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upsidedownwithsteve · 9 months

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Simmer #2

CH.2 Ice Box | The Menu [4.1K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.

The first week at Jim’s went somewhat smoothly.

You figured out a bus that would take you out of town and to the diner when it was raining or too dark, a rusty old thing that rattled the entire journey but it meant you got there a few minutes before your shift started. The summer was still present, a growing thing that became hotter and bigger as June turned to July, the sidewalks baking, the skies an endless blue between storms that you didn’t really mind.

You got to meet the rest of the team that first morning, bumping into a girl as you made your way through the side door meant for staff. Robin was another waitress, a little blunt, really pretty and more than helpful. She took over immediately, waving away your explanation of having to report to Eddie, leading you into a back office that was crammed with a desk and a line of lockers. It took a while for her to find a key to one in a security box but eventually you had a locker, a name badge and a uniform that Robin promised was the cleanest one she could find.

It was a powder blue thing with red trim, a little on the short side for a dress and it had you pulling at the hem until it covered your thighs more. The collar was white, starchy, the apron that tied around your waist matching. Robin grinned when you reappeared with it on, straightening your name badge for you before handing you a new pad and pen.

“C’mon,” she tilted her head towards the kitchen, the smell of coffee and maple already pouring out of it. “I’ll introduce you to everyone else.”

There was Nancy, another waitress who helped Jim manage the diner’s taxes when she wasn’t back at college in Indianapolis. She seemed sweet, a little quieter than Robin, more eager to keep her head down and garner the best tips.

Argyle was the boy you’d seen in the kitchen the day before, a smiling boy with the sleekest hair you’d ever seen. He offered a fist bump and a warm greeting, telling you to let him know of any medicinal preferences that he could help you out with. He was on prep duty in the kitchen and Robin claimed he could chop a full onion in ten seconds when he wasn’t busy eating the product.

Then there was Jonathan. A quiet guy who mostly worked the coffee bar and helped on dish duty when the kitchen was busy. He made a mean latte, you were told, and if he liked you, he’d use his special coffee beans that he kept hidden in the back.

Steve was front of house, mostly waiting tables, sometimes sitting at the rarely used host desk. Handsome and polite, he waved at you from atop a kitchen counter, already chewing on a slice of toast that he ended up sharing with Robin.

Going by the staff schedule that was pinned to a board in the office, there seemed to be more employees you’d yet to meet. A Chrissy Cunningham, Jason Carver and someone called William although it was scored out and had Billy written next to it. There was Dustin too, pencilled in at the bottom as a weekend busboy.

All in all, the staff at Jim’s diner were pretty cool. There was a man you hadn’t met yet, someone called Murray that was supposed to be the kitchen manager but apparently, he preferred a more work from home type of schedule. Then there was Eddie Munson.

Line cook, although in a diner this size, he was pretty much the only cook. Territorial over his kitchen, you’d been warned that the boy tended to keep to himself, liked to communicate in grunts and grumbles, and was usually perpetually moody. He had a lot of opinions over music, over food, over the right spice to use in apple pies. And he didn’t tend to take to new people, much to your dismay. The morning you arrived ready to work, Eddie greeted you with a grunt from behind a coffee cup, dumping your uniform into your arms with a name badge that had “Chicago” written in permanent marker, a sure sign that Jim had forgotten your name.

So the first week went without much talking to Eddie, you keeping to your space between the tables and him keeping to the kitchen. Music blasted through most of the shift, with the boy working with his head down, curls escaping his bun, his apron tied right around his waist. Every now and then, when you came to the hatch to collect plates and orders, you’d hear him hum along to the radio, an upbeat tune that never matched the frown on his face. And if he happened to catch you staring, well, the lines between his brows only deepened.

And despite the sour faced regulars who only grunted and held their cups out when you offered more coffee, working at the diner wasn’t the worst job you’d had. Tips were okay, Jonathan made you a latte every morning you shared a shift and the sizzle of the stoves became a comforting background noise as you pottered around the tables, smiling shyly and taking orders with the utmost concentration.

It was fine, good even. Up until your first run in with Mr Creel.

The older man frequented the diner regularly, coming in early mornings and late nights, leaving whatever job he did to spend hours at a time at the end of the diner bar. He sat under the television screen, a dead eye stare on whatever it was showing, only holding his mug out for coffee refills.

He was particular about being left alone and even more particular about his coffee being black. So when you accidentally topped the caffeine up with creamer, you finally heard the old man’s voice. He yelled something awful, his voice croaky from hardly being used, a raspy, horrible thing as he uttered ugly words.

“Stupid girl,” he hissed, knocking over the cup of coffee until the insides ran along the bar and dripped onto your white sneakers. “Are you dumb? Huh?” The man glared at you as you tried to form words, mouth tripping over an apology you weren’t sure he deserved anymore. “How difficult can this job be?”

Steve came to your aid, brow furrowed and tongue bitten as he held back the things he wanted to say to the customer. But he saw the tears in your eyes, your gaze a little unfocused and glassy, his hand on your elbow as he coaxed you into leaving the situation.

“I got this,” he muttered, a rag in hand, ready to mop up Mr. Creel’s mess as he pointedly ignored the old man’s whispered insults. “Take a breather, it’s fine. Don’t worry.”

You didn’t hesitate, scampering away with coffee sodden sneakers squeaking on the linoleum. You’d have to thank Steve later, the tears were close to falling and you were adamant they wouldn’t escape while you were still on the diner floor. So you barrelled into the kitchen without much thought, not bothering to yell ‘doors’ or ‘corner,’ just desperate to get out of sight. It was a slow morning, a few pancakes on the griddle, some leftover waffle batter in a bowl by the stove, another one full of eggs beside it. Apart from the sounds of food cooking, sizzles, pops, the sound of the radio, it was quiet.

Pushing your back to the tiled wall, you weren’t able to do much to escape the heat that always filled the kitchen. The back of your uniform scratched at your neck, an itchy warmth that stuck to your skin and made the tears come a little easier as Mr. Creel’s words echoed in your head. You knew it wasn’t worth overthinking - everyone had warned you that the man was a perpetual thunder cloud, always gloomy, always looking for an excuse to yell. But still, you blinked one too many times and your glassy eyes spilled over, lashes sticking together with tears as you stuttered over a heaving breath. Your face scrunched, falling with too much emotion and you made a noise akin to a whimper, a wet sounding thing that you could keep in.

You didn’t hear someone come back in from the fire exit, the brief smell of cigarette smoke mingling with the heat and the fiery barbecue scent of lunch hours brisket cooking. Eddie scowled at the sight of you by his station, back to the wall, hip pressed to the stainless steel table. Your head was bowed, the heels of your palms pressed to your eyes and when he turned down the radio - just slightly - he could hear you sniff.

The boy frowned, somewhat uncomfortable, that crinkle that was always between his brows deepening. He used his wrist to sweep the hair out of his eyes and he gestured to the walk-in behind you, even though you couldn’t see. "Uh, normally we cry in the freezer."

You looked up, mortified. Your cheeks were red hot, a burn from the embarrassment of being caught and the frustration from the customer who was surely still at the bar, uncaring of the state he’d put you in.

You sniffed, swiping hastily at your cheeks. "What?"

The boy sighed, an impatient noise that Robin had already told you not to take offence to. He nodded at the freezer again, lowering the heat on whatever it was he was cooking in a comically large pot. "In there. That's where we have our breakdowns."

You stood, aimless, wondering what you were supposed to do with that information. The freezer? Wouldn't Hopper be looking for you?

The boy scrunched his face in annoyance and you thought he was going to return to his recipe, but he turned off the burner and rounded the station. He tilted his chin at you, signalling you to follow. "C'mon, come wi' me," he murmured.

It was the most he’d said to you since the day you’d turned up with your resumes and some hope in your chest. You blinked, watching Eddie stomp down the aisle between the stations, big combat boots a strange congrats to his chef whites. You ran a little to catch up, hip catching the corner of a cart filled with fresh fruit and a bowl of proofed dough, trying not to stumble into the back of the boy. You almost did when he stopped dead and pulled at the door of the giant walk-in, a wall of cold air hitting your both square in the face.

Stacks of frozen food sat on metal shelves, lines of cut meats, boxes of iced over vegetables, already cut and prepped. Eddie waved a hand inside, gesturing for you to enter. Your breath turned visible as the temperature dropped by twenty degrees, ice cold and raising goosebumps on your arms. You half expected Eddie to shut the door and leave you alone, but you were surprised when he walked in after you, the soft thump of the door closing after him.

Silence enveloped you both, the noise of the kitchen, the broken AC, the diner all disappearing. You breathed out a sigh of relief, breath crystallising between you and the boy who was eyeing you warily, wondering if you were going to keep crying. He didn’t say anything, he just leaned against a shelf and tugged a rag from his back pocket, wiping off his hands.

It was easier to breathe without the heat of the diner, the constant steam from the kitchen, the way the sun hit the windows and made the whole place too hot. The boy watched you, still cautious, waiting for your chest to stop heaving and you to stop sniffling. When you did, he peered at you through his bangs.

“Better?”

Still embarrassed, you swiped hastily at your cheeks and tried to pretend you weren’t crying, wiping the evidence of the apron that held your pad and pen- and now splashes from Mr. Creel’s coffee tantrum. “Yeah, m’fine. Thanks.”

The boy nodded, lips pressed together as if he didn’t know what else to say. Neither did you, still hot cheeked and mortified, staring wide eyed at the freezer door and for a brief second, you wondered if the rest of the diner would hear you from behind the thick freezer door if you just so happened to let out a yell. Maybe that’s why Eddie said this was the breakdown space. You guessed you’d find out sooner than you thought.

And just as you were getting ready to push the door back open, Eddie peered up at you from where he was busy inspecting a silver scar on his wrist. “Creel’s a real asshole, don’t let him get to you.”

Surprised, you stopped in your tracks and turned. The leftover tears on your cheeks weren’t quite ice, but they left cold trails across your face that felt too obvious. You pushed against the apple of your cheek once more, fingers digging in a little too meanly as you tried to get rid of the evidence that Eddie already saw. “I know,” you nodded. You sniffed again. “Just— took me by surprise, that’s all.”

Eddie nodded slowly, like he was thinking over your words. “You gotta toughen up, kid.” He swept by you, lemongrass and some cologne that was hidden behind the smell of basil and spice. His shoulder knocked yours. “Told you you wouldn’t last in the kitchen.”

—————

Some would call it stubbornness, others would call it spiteful, but you were more determined than ever to fit in and work hard at the diner. Eddie’s comment made a lasting effect on you and you tried every day to smile through the shit and be a little bolder, leaving the shyness behind with Chicago and every other failed opportunity. Plus, the tips came a little easier if you flashed a smile and some flirt.

You cleaned up the smashed burgers and soggy fries that were smeared into the floor after a family of tourists swept through the restaurant, you wiped down tables, refilled the salt shakers and when you collected orders from Eddie at the kitchen hatch, you made sure to use the towel to pick up the hot plates. The last time you’d suffered a burn, Eddie had rolled his eyes and scoffed. But when you came back for the next order a few minutes later, an ice pack was sitting waiting.

“You okay?” Robin’s side nudged up against yours in greeting at the cutlery station, familiar and friendly.

You smiled, nodding, wrapping napkins around knives and forks. Robin picked up a bundle to help and you could tell by her unsettled fidgeting, she wanted to ask something. “Are you okay?”

The girl made a face and squinted at you, all nervous charm and nervousness. “Yeah, yeah— I’m good. So good. It’s just, uh—”

You blinked, waiting, both of you moving out of the way when Jonathan appeared with a set of headphones over his ears, grinning at you both as he dumped more clean cutlery into the drawers.

“—you know how it was both of us on the late tonight?” Robin continued once Jonathan disappeared. You nodded, still sorting out the utensils, frowning when the freshly cleaned sets burned your fingertips. “Well, I kinda got asked on a date tonight and oh my god, okay, like, I know you’re new but I’ve been waiting on this girl literally forever and—”

It was easy to smile at Robin’s enthusiastic rambling, your shoulders losing the tension they usually held as you listened to her talk. “Who is it?” You asked curiously.

“It’s like, holy shit? She’s interested in me? I mean— oh.” Robin cut herself off after she realised you’d spoken. Her cheeks burned, pink covering her freckles and she covered her face with her hands, embarrassed at her own excitement. “Nancy.”

You beamed and nodded, already knowing about the flirting that went on during their shared shifts, the way Robin looked at the other girl, the way Steve rolled his eyes fondly behind his friend's back.

“That’s sweet,” you told the girl, happy for her. “You guys goin’ somewhere nice?”

“Uh, yeah,” Robin smiled, bashful, before she flicked her gaze to you again, nerves kicking back in. “That’s actually what I wanted to ask. Would you mind if I left early?” The girl gestured to the quiet diner, a little more peaceful now the dinner rush was over. “I know I was supposed to stay until close with you, but this show starts at like, nine? So I was just wondering if it’d be okay with you if I—”

You cut the girl off with a hand to her forearm, stopping her nervous gesturing. You smiled again. “Hey, it’s totally okay. I can handle it.”

She grinned, face lighting up with genuine happiness as she squealed and grabbed your arms, pulling you into a crushing hug despite the bundles of cutlery you held to your chest. But her excitement was contagious and you grinned too, happy to have made Robin happy, happier to feel like you had a real friend.

“I owe you!” She gasped, “thank you so much! You’re on with Eddie ‘til close, and maybe Jonathan? It’ll be fine! Thankyouthankyouthankyou!” She gushed as she pulled off her apron and rushed to the office.

The rest of the time went quietly, as did most of the graveyard shifts. Families and couples left after eight and as the evening headed towards night, the clock approaching twelve, the diner was empty apart from one lone trucker in the corner nursing an extra black coffee and a cinnamon roll. So you headed into the kitchen with the last of the plates, proud of the way you balanced all five of them over your forearms, only wobbling a little. You even remembered to call out as you pushed the door open, even though there wasn’t much happening.

The hustle and bustle had slowed to a lazy stroll, the radio still on but much quieter, another sixties song crooning from the speakers. Eddie was washing down his station, knives sharpened and put away, the stovetop grills seeping in the sink full of bubbles.

“Floors have just been mopped,” he told you without looking up. “Careful.”

You nodded, always startled when he spoke, his voice much softer than he looked. It was honeyed whisky, syrupy smooth. You managed to slide the dishes into an empty sink without much fanfare - nothing spilled, nothing smashed - and you were planning on refilling the ketchup dispenser when your stomach growled, unreasonably loud.

You clamped a hand over it, an awful flush crawling up the back of your neck that you knew too well. Embarrassed, you tried to laugh it off, avoiding Eddie’s gaze when his head shot up. Wide eyed, he appraised you, watching as you gave him a wide berth as you shot for the door. Before you could make a break for it, the cook dropped his cleaning rag and sighed.

“Have you ate?”

You stopped, almost tipping over your own feet as you spun back round to face him. You wondered if you misheard him, if he was maybe talking to someone else in the kitchen you hadn’t noticed but Jonathan was whistling outside of the kitchen hatch, cleaning down the coffee machine and no one else was on shift.

Still, you asked, “what?”

Eddie frowned, like he was upset about repeating himself. But he was already pulling a chopping board out from the racks underneath the workbench. “I said, have you ate? You sound like a dying whale.”

If you weren’t so mortified, you think you would’ve been offended. You hadn’t eaten though, not since you’d managed to shovel a bag of chips into your mouth between a bus load of tourists stopping off for a milkshake and Jim’s famous wings. But you weren’t sure why Eddie wanted to know so you shrugged, hoping your embarrassment wasn’t showing on your face.

The boy just sighed, like he always did, and gestured to a stool that sat across from his station. “Sit,” he ordered gruffly before pulling out half of a baked loaf from earlier. “You like mustard?”

“What’re you doing?” You hadn’t moved, standing shell shocked by the door, your stomach still yelling at you.

Eddie turned to you with that same frown, forever looking annoyed at your presence. Now he was brandishing a butter knife, more curls than ever escaping his bun. He really should wear a hairnet.

“What’s it look like?” He grunted. He pointed at the stool once more. “C’mon. Mustard?”

You walked over slowly, like you were approaching something wild and unpredictable. Maybe you were. The stool squeaked as it scraped across the tiles, and you eyed the boy warily as you pushed yourself onto the chair across from him. “Sure,” you mumbled, watching as he slathered slices of sourdough with mustard and a little mayonnaise.

“You should eat properly.” Eddie scowled. “You don’t eat nothin’, gonna make yourself pass out in this heat.”

You seemed to forget your shyness as you frowned right back. “How would you know?” You demanded.

Eddie scoffed and suddenly you forgot altogether that you and this boy didn’t really talk. He was rolling his eyes at you as he layered on some cheddar cheese and salami, not asking you before he added some prosciutto and lettuce. “Because you scramble in and out of here all day chasin’ your own tail. I watched you inhale that bag of chips earlier like a goddamn raccoon.”

You squirmed not loving the comparison but knowing that he probably wasn’t far off in terms of likeness. But still, your frown matched his. “I don’t scramble,” you murmured.

Eddie scoffed, a breathy, disbelieving thing that made him raise his eyebrows. He was moving around his station with a grace you couldn’t fathom, speedy and gentle with each movement. He drizzled a little honey over the second slice of bread before stacking it on top, an impressive display of flavour in each layer before he sliced it down the middle.

“Oh, yes you do,” Eddie shot back. “Like a squirrel.” He placed the sandwich on a plate Jonathan had already cleaned and pushed it towards you before deciding to add another little pot of honey beside it.

“I thought I was a raccoon?” You asked him before you could help yourself. “Thank you,” you added quickly, looking down at the plate. Your stomach grumbled again, your mouth watered.

Eddie shrugged, wiping his hands on the front of his apron. “Either rodent will do,” he told you. “And you’re welcome. Now eat.”

You didn’t argue anymore, tucking into your snack with a shy sort of wariness. You’d hardly spoken to the boy before now and yet here he was, preparing you food. Just a sandwich, but it took more effort than any snack you’d ever made yourself. You took a bite, eyes closing at the flavour and you hummed in appreciation. When you opened them again, Eddie was at the sink, his back to you but you could see from the tilt of his head that showed off how he watched you from the side of his eyes.

“Oh my god—” you cut yourself off, humming again, a delighted little noise that you couldn’t help let out. “This is amazing.”

You ate until Eddie was done cleaning, using your crusts to dip into the honey, mopping up everything off your plate until it was empty, your legs swinging happily from the stool. If you were alone, you would’ve danced. You were sure you saw him fight a smile as he returned to the bench, brows raised at your full cheeks, your happy eyes, the crumbs on his once clean station.

“Squirrel to chipmunk,” he noted, gaze trailing over your face. You swallowed quickly, cheeks heating up once again and you dropped your eye line to the table as you wiped your hands on your apron. “Good?” He asked.

“Delicious,” you told him with a nod. “Thank you. Again. You didn’t have to do that.”

Eddie swung a dish towel over his shoulder and ducked his head, curls falling loose around his face and you watched as he slid his clean equipment back into their rightful place. “Was just a sandwich, no big deal.”

It was just a sandwich. But you’d soon come to realise it was something so much bigger than you’d ever have thought.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb

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dcxdpdabbles · 9 months

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Hello ❤️

Can you please write something about Jason x Danny? Maybe something about Jason having a crush on this new guy (maybe Danny works in a library or helping people as a nurse) and just falling cause Danny is sincerely nice and isn't afraid of his Lazarus's rage

Jason first notices the new face volunteering at the soup kitchen when the guy hand-makes flour tortillas for the beans. Just like his mom used to make, alongside Mrs. Huerea before she got into drugs.

It's been years since he last had some, not because Alfred refuses to make it but because the butler never has the time.

It's usually a treat for Thanksgiving, Christmas, Hanukkah, or his birthday. Sometimes if Jason is lucky, there is another important holiday for the many members of Wayne Manor, and there is time for Alfred to get them done. He can have them more.

But mostly, Alfred had them store-bought.

That's why he wanders to the other man's line, mouth already watering as the volunteer piles smashed beans with cheese and tortillas onto plates. A name tag has a simple "Danny" on top of a white NASA shirt coupled with slightly baggy pants is the whole outfit of the stranger - odd in Gotham's winter time.

He offers Jason a smile, then, with a wink, places two more fresh tortillas on his plate.

Before he can say anything, Danny pushes the plate toward him. "I can tell you're a man who appreciates fine food. Take them. I can always make more. "

He jerks a thumb to the back, where a press awaits use. It looks just like Mrs. Huerea's iron-clad tool that, for a second, he's six again, early happy the women preparing for Christmas.

When his mother was sober, the Huereas had always opened their home to them. The elderly couple had always felt like grandparents to him.

"Thanks," He says around a forming grin. It matches Danny's.

Jason accepts the food with an excited thrill; for once, the memories of his mother are not so bitter and ruined. He moves out of the way for the next person, making a mental note to tell his men to ensure Danny gets home safely after his shift. It would be in his employee's way.

He does this often, assigning some Red Hood boys to make sure no one bothers any of the volunteers. Jason knows he can't get rid of all crime, not like Bruce believes, but he can at least protect those trying to make this place less of a shit hole.

He sits, savoring the flavor with great appreciation. He's got time to relax a little.

One of his Lieutenant is in the back, speaking to the director of the Soup Kitchen. This is one of Jason's protected areas, but to make sure people know it's not to be taken lightly, the Red Hood gang does require protection money.

He doesn't ask a lot but Jason knows that any place that doesn't have protection money is a bigger target. Of course he also here pretending to be hungry just to make sure the place is actually doing what they promised to do and feed people.

When Jason first took over, this particular place had been known to only give out half of the money they donated in food. The rest was going into the old director's pocket. When he caught wind of the senior director often refusing kids just to save money to steal, Jason quickly fed him to the fish.

His Lieutenant, Rogers, would not be able to recognize him. Jason was eating without a mask. What better disguise than his own dead face? Much less the other people in the soup kitchen.

Although he was meant to observe his surroundings for any funny business, Jason glued his eyes on Danny the entire time. It seemed the man had an easy smile for everyone and a calming personality that seemed to put even the most hostile at ease.

Snow. Jason thinks while watching Danny make more tortillas while chatting with a street kid until the young girl feels she could make one. He lets her round the table easily, showing her how to press down on the metal lever with the same soft ease. He's like pure white snow.

He would not last long in Crime Alley. Nothing pure ever does.

Jason fishes his food, unable to look away from what he knows would be a broken man in only a few weeks.

He leaves just as Rogers returns to the front clutching a brown bag. It looks like he didn't need to worry about the upkeeping of this place. He needs to check on the other kitchens in his territory before the day is out.

After three other Kitchens, Jason is satisfied that he's secured two. He must send Rogers to the last one because a few girls seemed uncomfortable with the leering crew. He'll have the creeps removed by this Friday.

He's swinging around as Red Hood on his normal patrol when he catches sight of Danny again. It's close to two in the morning, so he's surprised to see the other man cheerfully strolling about without any signs of exhaust.

He's also not wearing warm clothing despite the snow slowly falling around them. The only difference between what he was wearing earlier is the large black backpack. Jason half wonders if Danny only has nothing else to wear until the man pauses at an alley entry.

He crouches down, unzipping his bag, before pulling out a plastic-wrapped package. Jason watches him cautiously walk into the alley, following on the roofs out of curiosity.

His eyes widen when he spots a young boy hiding behind a trash bin, squishing himself against the wall as Danny carefully approaches him.

Jason hadn't seen the kid when he had passed by earlier, likely due to the boy knowing how to hide himself in the shadows. How had Danny seen him?

"Go away!" The boy yells when Danny gets too close for comfort. Jason's hackles rise, pulling out his gun in case he needs to intervene. He remembers the days when the sound of approaching footsteps to his hiding places in the streets meant.

Danny stops just on the other side of the trash bin. He places the package on top of it and backs away quickly. "I don't mean to bother you. But I thought you could use these. Stay warm, and if you need to escape the snowstorm, go to the address in the right pocket."

The boy doesn't answer, and Danny doesn't seem to wait for one. He leaves with quick strides. Jason watches him from the roof, noticing he returns to a slow stroll once he's back on the main street.

Below, the street kid carefully pulls the plastic bag towards him once he knows Danny is gone. He unwraps the bag only to gasp in delight at the jacket, gloves, hat, scarf, and socks inside. He quickly slips them on, burying himself in the small amounts of warmth they offer him.

Jason watches the boy for a few minutes before jumping down. The kid scrambles away until he realizes it's Rood Hood. Everyone knows that he won't harm street kids.

"Hey," He says, noting that the boy's new clothes seem to be made from expensive material, all in black and neon green. "Do you have somewhere warm to sleep tonight? Snowstorm is coming."

"I can handle it." The boy scoffs despite the shivers that wrack his body.

"I know you can. But it's not safe out here" He kneels at the boy's eye level. He seems about twelve, likely new to the streets since he has yet to find proper shelter. Dirty blond hair and dark, weary brown eyes stare back at him as Jason offers. "Let me get you somewhere safe."

"I won't go back to the stupid system."

"Nah, that shit's broken. I got a safe house for you to crash in."

The boy thinks it over. "Just us?"

Jason isn't a mind reader to know what the kid fears. "No. It's full of other people."

It takes a few more minutes, but eventually, he convinces Max to follow him. They travel across Crime Alley to one of the empty warehouses he had turned into an illegal shelter. Inside are various Red Hood gangsters passing out blankets and setting up cots for people from the streets to sleep.

The heaters are on, but a few still refuse to remove their warm clothing- likely in fear of theft or that it proves an extra layer of comfort- as they settle down.

Max thanks him as the boy rushes to a corner that seems to be taken over by children. He doesn't approach the others to speak to, but he looks more comfortable picking a cot close to them. Jason's eyes widen slightly when he realizes that all seven children are wearing some form of the Black and Neon Green outfits Danny had given Max.

Rogers strolls up next to him, nodding his chin at the children. "Some street kids have been saying a man is offering them free supplies. He doesn't ask for anything in return and leaves them alone with they tell him to. His calling card is the little neon green ghost he places on each item. Want me to take a few of our boys and check him out?"

Jason grunts. "No need. I already know who it is. He seems like a non-threat."

Rogers appears flabbergasted for only a few seconds before pulling himself together. "If you say so, boss."

Jason turns to stare at the man, and Rogers raises his hands. "All I'm saying is that it's a little odd how good the guy is at spotting street kids."

"How good is he?"

"It's like he can see in the dark. He might be a meta."

Jason thinks back to Danny walking around in his light clothes like it's the middle of summer instead of winter and finds some weight in the meta-theory. "I'll pay him a visit soon."

Rogers lets the matter drop, even if he is confused by Jason's involvement. Usually, he has some of the newest members of the youngest ones who reckon a personable target- or new recruits.

But something about Danny called out to Jason. He couldn't say it, but the man's snow-like personality eased the Pit Rage in him. Strangely it felt like Danny was the calm winter promising rest to the wounded parts of Jason's soul.

He didn't want to see Danny's pure heart ruined by this city.

Jason wonders if he could keep it safe and if Danny will even give him the chance to try.

He hopes so. Danny has such a lovely smile.

#dcxdpdabbles #Dead on main #Red Hood's snow #Jason falls for the man trying to make Crime Alley less terrible.#Danny is just vibing being a help to anyone that he comes across #Jason was raised along side a sweet Mexican family cause I say so #Jason falls for a man with a pure heart.#Rogers is freaking out #His boss??? with a crush???#Hope you like!

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bia-wayne-west · 3 months

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Mom has a tattoo [Tim Drake x Batmom]

Synopsis: Tim Drake discovers that his mother, Batmom, got a tattoo without anyone knowing.

Characters: Tim Drake, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne and Reader[You]

A/N: I wrote this in a few minutes, I hope it’s good. I made this imagine inspired by the fantastic imagine of @ellana-ravenwood. I hope that you who are reading have fun and enjoy what I wrote. Apologies for bad grammar

Requests are open

MASTERLIST

It was a surprise for your baby Tim. When he saw the birds drawn on his skin, Tim was by tour side when he noticed.

It all happened when you decided to watch a new TV show on Netflix. First, you made sure all your children, your husband, and Alfred were busy somewhere. Whenever you sit on the big sofa in the living room, one of your babies runs to sit next to you, demanding all your love and attention.

But this time you got confused and forgot to check if Timothy had his eyes on the video game. You were wearing a sleeveless t’shirt and old leggings. Your feet were covered in socks you stole from Bruce's closet.

You were watching the TV show's protagonist lie to her boyfriend. You felt like you were being watched and noticed your third child standing at the entrance to the room with a box of chocolates in his hand. You smiled at Timothy and patted the couch next to him. The boy ran with the candy in his hands, throwing himself next to you with a huge smile on his face.

“I was going down to the Batcave when I noticed you were watching Netflix alone. I came to keep you company, mom.”

“Oh my baby. Thank you for staying here with me.”

When you leaned over to pick up a bag of jelly beans, your hair fell to the side and tour shoulder was exposed. Timothy let out an exclamation of surprise when he saw that you had four birds tattooed on your shoulder. When you returned to your normal position, you noticed your baby looking at you with surprised eyes.

“DO YOU HAVE A TATTOO?” He shouted, pursing his lips.

You laughed and rolled down your shirt sleeve so the boy could see your tattoo in full.

“I did this a month ago. It has a meaning. I have four chicks and I made four birds to have my beautiful chicks with me until the end.”

“ Ah, it’s a beautiful meaning. But I would never have imagined that my mother would get a tattoo. Tattooing is something for young people.”

“Oh my god, Timothy, this really offended me.” You said, placing your hand on your chest while laughing. “ I want to have you with me even when I'm in a coffin and now I have you marked on my skin.”

“We will always be with you, mom. I love you and my brothers too.”

He hugged you tightly, smiling. You smiled back, thinking about the fact that Timothy rarely called Dick, Jason, and Damian brothers. It was unique to see that he really cared about his family.

“I love you, my little bird.”

Your lips kissed Tim's warm forehead. His head touched your shoulder and the two of you continued watching the TV show.

“Mom, when I'm sixteen, can you convince Dick and Jason to get a family tattoo? Like birds or a bat?”

“Of course, my dear. We can also include Bruce and Alfred and of course Damian when he's older."

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vanwritesfan-fiction · 9 months

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Special Guest

Pairings: Husband!Dad!Travis Kelce x Wife!Mom!Reader

Words: 1,816

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of pregnancy

“You nervous, boo?” Travis gives you a smack on your ass as you both walk into his home office. You sit down behind the podcast setup he uses to record New Heights every week, adjusting in your seat. “You haven’t told me what we’re doing, so I’m not sure what I should be nervous about.” You adjusted to sit criss cross in the armchair, running your hands through your hair to put it up in a ponytail. The setup was pretty sophisticated, two mics set up in front of the chairs, a large monitor across the room so you could see yourself as you recorded, picture-in-picture, so you could see Jason when he called in remotely.

Jason and Travis had been recording this podcast for just under a year, and you had admired from afar, proud that Trav had something productive to do when he wasn’t playing football. Your husband had boundless amounts of energy, and if he wasn’t doing the podcast, he’d probably be trying to start and not complete projects around the house, driving you up the wall. You eyed a half-built bookshelf across the room that Travis swore up and down he was going to complete, but if you put a book on it, it would crumble into a pile of wood. Travis conferenced Jason in, the background of his stone fireplace and leather chair coming into view. “Hello, love!”, you greeted Jason, who gave you a big smile.

“Hey, sweetheart, how ya doing?” Jason stroked his long, dark brown beard. “I’d be better if you told me what I was doing here today.” You gave Jason a coercing look, and he folded immediately. “Travis had the idea to interview you on the podcast, get the NFL wife perspective.” You looked at Travis as he walked back into the room, Travis frozen in place at the sight of your angry face. “Jason spilled the beans, huh?” Travis handed you headphones and you carefully placed them over your ears. You rolled your eyes at Travis, not sure how this was going to go. You’d already been the target of ridicule when Travis lost a game before, fans blaming you for his lackluster performance. Travis moved to stand over you in the chair, towering over you, his hands gripping the chair on either side of you. Jason was 6’5”, his frame intimidating to many people, but everyone knew you were running the show here. Travis tried to lean in for a kiss, but you turned your head away, earning a chuckle from Jason on the screen.

You crossed your arms to let Travis know you weren’t happy with him. “Listen baby, this is just supposed to be fun. We’ll ask a few questions, tell a few cute stories and it will be over.” Travis looked at you with pleading eyes, your resolve weakening. “T, just last week someone posted on Instagram that me not letting you hit before game day was hurting your receiving yards. I don’t need any other rumors spreading about me.” “If I hear or see anything like that again, I will personally kick their ass.” You thought about it for a second before agreeing. Travis gave you two quick kisses, trying to tickle you to get you to smile. “Stop Travis,” you swatted him away, giggling. “Can you get me a bottle of water before we start” you asked. “Of course, boo.” Travis walked out of the room. “You have got that boy whipped,” Jason laughed after seeing his brother begging for your approval. “I know”, you shrugged, a smirk on your face.

Travis: Welcome back to New Heights baby, presented by Wave Sports and Entertainment and brought to you by our friends at Fireball. The pound-for-pound undisputed best shot of the world. I’m your host, Travis Kelsey and this is my big brother Jason Kelsey out of Cleveland Heights Ohio. New Heights comes to you every single Wednesday or whenever we can get an episode to you. And um, yeah, subscribe on YouTube and wherever you get your podcasts and follow the show on all social media platforms at new heights show with one s.

Jason: Today we have a very special episode, and a very special guest. Travis why don’t you introduce her?

T: Yes, to my left, we have the love of my life, the mother of my two beautiful children, and a 5-year NFL wife veteran, Y/N? How is it going, baby boo?

Y/N: Thank you both for having me, glad to be here. Jason, have you subjected Kylie to this torture yet?

J: (chuckles) not yet, but if this goes well, she’ll definitely be next.

T: This is going to go great! Alright now. First up, we had some fans submit in some questions for you babe, so let’s get into that.

Y/N: Okay, let’s do it.

T: Ok, this is from KCFan1993. “What is your favorite and least favorite part of being an NFL wife?”

J: Least favorite has to be being married to Travis right? You can admit it on the podcast, this is a safe space.

Y/N: (laughs) Fortunately that’s not it, although that would be satisfying to admit here. Uh… least favorite is probably the amount of time we spend away from each other. I’m like a single mother half of the year, taking care of the kids while Travis is on the road.

T: The best mother in the world.

Y/N: Thank you baby. Yeah, that’s probably the worst part. Now the best part is that you get to love and be with someone who is fulfilling their lifelong dream, and it’s such an amazing thing to be part of. T is always so supportive of me and what I want to do, and we are a great team.

T: Aww, thank you baby. Can I tell you the best part of being married to you?

Y/N: If you say what I think you’re about to say, we can end this interview now.

T: (wiggles eyebrows, laughs) Yeah, that is what I was thinking, but I will say you have such a good soul and spirit. Not many people could handle the demands of the NFL, and you do it with such grace and poise.

J: Totally agree. Not sure what I would do without Kylie in my life.

Y/N: Ok, next question, you guys are making me tear up.

T: Alright, next is from Cheeselover55.

Y/N: Great username!

T: “What is your favorite NFL game memory?”

Y/N: Ooh, there have been so many, not sure I can pinpoint one.

T: It’s not me winning the Superbowl?

Y/N: That was definitely amazing, but it’s almost other-worldly. My favorite memory was when we took Bubba to his first football game where he could actually understand a little bit of what was going on, he was maybe three at the time. You unfortunately lost the game, and we met you in the tunnel. You picked him up.

T: Fuck, (laughs) I remember this.

Y/N: Yeah, and he could tell you were sad, and he just grabbed your face with both of his little hands, and was like “Daddy, did you lose?” and you were like “yeah Bubba we lost” and he just looks at you and is like “that’s sad, can we go get ice cream now?”

J: (laughs) Are you kidding me?!? Bubba is officially my favorite after that story.

T: Well, he hurt my feelings, but yeah he is the goat. He does not give a shit about anything that doesn’t have to do food, Paw Patrol, or mama. He knows his priorities.

J:It might change when the new baby gets here-

T: Well fuck Jason, we hadn’t told anyone yet!

J: Whoops, so sorry Y/N! I am the worst uncle, announcing your 3rd child on the podcast.

Y/N: You know what, I’m glad I didn’t have to be the one to announce it.

T: Well, since Jason can’t keep his mouth shut.

J: Again, really sorry!

T: We’ve got New News! Yes, we are officially announcing that we are pregnant with our third child, a girl expected in about 5 months.

J: (claps) Congratulations you two. Couldn’t be more excited to welcome another Kelce to the family.

Y/N: Thank you Jason. We’re really excited.

J: So how is this pregnancy the third time around? Kylie was so glad when Bennie was born because she was like “I’m done. Wrap it up, snip it up, whatever you have to do because I will not birth another child.”

Y/N: (laughs) I definitely was like that when I was having Bubba. I literally kicked Travis out of the room and told him don’t come back until you had a vasectomy.

T: I left the room and didn’t come back until the doctor told me to.

Y/N: I still feel bad about that, because as soon as Bubba was 9 months, I wanted more kids. We waited luckily but I was trying to jump his bones way earlier.

T: Alright now, that’s enough of that!

Y/N: Don’t get shy now baby! I’m enjoying myself now.

T: Sorry babe they only give us so many minutes to record.

J: Travis is like cut the cameras, cut the cameras!

T: Thanks for tuning in, and thanks to our special guest. (claps)

J: All right, now once again, new heights is presented by Wave Sports and Entertainment and brought to you by our friends at Fireball. Follow the show on all social media platforms, new Height Show with ONE S for fun clips throughout the week and thanks to our production for making us look good, we’re really gonna need you for this win. Please love you guys and appreciate the 92% for always tuning in.

T: Until the next time, baby, peace!

Once the cameras stopped recording and Jason had said goodbyes, Travis looked at you, waiting for your response. The baby monitor went off before you could respond, your second child letting you know she was ready to get out of her crib. You scooted yourself out of the chair, your back hurting from sitting for an hour. You walked out of the room, Travis walking close behind you. He saw you holding your back and wanted to give you some relief. “Baby, let’s take a nap, I can give you a back rub.” “I’ve got to grab Sav, she’s gonna want to have lunch.” “I’ll grab her.” Travis disappeared into Savannah’s nursery, emerging from the room with Savannah in his arms. They followed you into the bedroom, Travis making sure you were tucked in and comfortable. “Are you mad at me?” You reached for Savannah, plopping her down on the bed beside you. You looked up at Travis with kind eyes. “Of course, not baby. I had a lot of fun actually. “Can’t wait to do it again!”

#travis kelce fluff #travis kelce fic #travis kelce imagine #travis kelce x reader #travis kelce #traviskelce

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makethatelevenrings · 1 year

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Day 21 - Size Difference

Pairing: Jason Todd x f!reader

Warnings: if you’re under 18, go! away! don’t talk to me about respecting boundaries when I, a simple lesbian, am asserting boundaries rn and you’re ignoring them!!

Summary: Jason is big. You love that about him.

Note: cockwarming is an easy way to get a UTI...even tho it’s kinda hot

Kinktober Masterlist

You kneeled in the middle of his bed and watched as Jason approached. He was drying his hands on a towel and the slow, calculated movement had you licking your lips in anticipation.

“Hi,” he greeted you. Jason cupped your cheeks and pulled you in for a sweet kiss. You hummed in appreciation as he pulled back, his thumb stroking along your jaw.

“Good patrol?”

He nodded and you gazed up at him. God, Jason was a tank. He was tall, but he was no string bean. Jason was pure muscle. You traced the lines of his biceps in appreciation and tilted your face to lean into his touch. He chuckled and ran his nose along your temple.

“What do you want, sweetheart?”

You leaned up and ghosted your lips over his before whispering your desire into his mouth, hands tugging at the waistband of his sweats. “Want you to fuck me.”

He grabbed your thighs and yanked you forward, causing your back to hit the mattress. Jason stared down at you, spread out and wanting, from where he stood. He watched as you inched your shirt up, exposing the fact that you had foregone with underwear tonight. His eyes darkened and he reached down to palm himself through the thin fabric of his pants.

Your eyes darted down to take in the large bulge that tented the front of his sweats. Jason noticed your gaze and he tugged his pants down, revealing the thick and long cock that you were eager to get inside of you.

“Need any prep, baby? Or did you start without me?”

“Started with you. You took too long.”

He leaned over you, looming and large and oh so delicious. “Sorry about that. Let me make it up to you.”

You spread your legs in anticipation, your knees coming up to bracket his hips as he guided his dick to your pussy. Jason ran the head along your slit and shot you a devilish grin.

“Yeah, you definitely got started without me.”

“Don’t take so long next time, Todd.”

You gasped as he first entered. Only the head split your folds and already it was so much. Jason always filled you to the brim and had you crying on his cock. The first time he had fucked you, he didn’t expect you to take him fully but you were determined. It had taken a while, but you had finally worked up to being able to fit him fully inside of you.

Fuck, you loved the feeling of him filling you up and carving you out. He consumed you, devoured you, and left you with a remnant of pleasure running through your veins. Jason’s hands skated over your skin and pressed your hips down as he rolled his hips and slid further in. You opened yourself for him fully, willing him to bottom out and shoot his cum into your cunt.

And when he was done fucking you, you would beg him to stay in you. Sated and warm, you would fall asleep with his softened cock resting between your folds, filling you even when he wasn’t rock hard. When you woke up in the morning, aching and sore in the best ways, your big bear of a man would curl around you and pull you close…and fuck you until you couldn’t think straight.

#kinktober #kinktober 2022 #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #red hood smut #red hood x reader #red hood imagine

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thegaysinmyhead · 4 months

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DC X DP IDEA(?)

Guys why is literally no one jumping on a VERY OBVIOUS trope for ghosts??

FUSION?? LIKE STEVEN UNIVERSE STYLE??

Just–hear me out hear me out!

Ghost forms are just extensions of their core, so it makes sense they can be changed right?? Gems physical bodies are just extensions and projections of their gem!!

SO, if going by a lot of phanon core logic, it would make sense if ghosts can have conversations to like fuse or something. Probably to use in battle mostly (ghosts are obviously territorial) but can also be used for love or to protect a weaker/damaged core! JUST IMAGINE THE POSSIBILITIES!!

Danny being able to fuse literally Steven universe style w his friends because he's a halfa, Danny being able to fuse with Jason because he has a connection because of the pits (Halfa or Revenant Jason Todd), Danny fusing with LITERAL BATMAN as he's the ghost king!!

CAN YOU IMAGINE HOW TERRIFYING THAT WOULD BE???

Jason in the middle of getting sacrificed: :|

Danny, the one being summoned and seeing a poor baby ghost/potential boyfriend material and snatching him to protect him: :)

Bruce:

Tim:

Dick:

Barbara:

Steph:

Cass:

Jason: ¯\(°_o)/¯

Danny: Mine now :)

*he says as their body erupts into flames and they become the most bad ass looking ghost that kicks the cultists asses; Before they started lounging around and reading Jane Austen* (floating laying down is apparently more comfortable than just laying down on something solid, so its nice to float and read)

ORRRR

Justice League facing off an impossibly strong enemy that they have no choice but to look into outside sources to help defeat him (Trigon, Darkseid, something else that probably show up like 4 times a week lmao). Eventually, JLD get wind of a new ghost king who's supposedly kind and benevolent, which is races better than his old counterpart.

With the entire League's permission, begrudgingly Batman's, they summon the Ghost King as a last option and are ready to sacrifice anything for his help (within reason). Imagine their surprise when Danny Fenton, aged somewhere between 16 to 21, pops up in the portal looking frazzled and like he was woken up from a nap. Not even in his ghost form, just blinking owlishly at the League members while gaping like a fish.

"Holy shit—the Justice League?! I'm being summoned by the Justice League?! Ohmygod Tucker is gonna freak"

Constantine butts in looking nervous as hell and sweating buckets, "Your Majesty—"

"Just Danny's fine, I can't believe I'm being summoned by THE Justice League!"

"...Danny. We could really use some of your help, mate. See, we got ourselves an issue we can't really fix ourselves–"

"I'll do it. I'm not even joking, you guys don't even have to ask me twice,"

Everyone in the League (besides Batman) was watching with bated breath at the exchange. The confusion as a random teenager showed up was quickly washed away with how formally he was addressed, but it spiked back up when 'Danny' seemed to...hero worship them?

"—But!"

Ah, there it was. Can never do trades in the occult for free.

"I would really do it for free if I could man, honest! Just...I need to make a teensy weensy deal to be let out of the circle? You guys don't even have to let me do it on my own if you're worried I'll go rogue! You can tie me into a deal about one of you 'using my power' in exchange for like, a cup of coffee or something,"

Now everyone (except Batman, though he seemed to have a clenched jaw) was opening gaping as the omnipotent described being. Being offered something to great...in exchange for a mug of bean water? There had to be a catch, some sort of trickery, but Diana and many others could sense no ill intent on the young king. Constantine had even let up on the nerves as the being continued to speak, relief seeming to crash through his entire body when he realized none of them would have to give up their soul or something. Batman was the first to speak up.

"And if you were...to offer your power to one of us, what would that entail for the mortal or semi-mortal user?"

The king hummed and tapped his chin in thought, "Well, they'd probably be fine. Most of my power would be filtered through myself, so whoever is wielding it wouldn't go mad or suddenly overwhelmed with it. It'd be like turning on the tap while the well is underground, or something close,"

Batman nodded before Danny continued to speak.

"—But, obviously, I reserve the right to take away my power at any point if I see it needed. I would not be mind controlled, nor would I be drained, I would be an observer in the back of whoever decides to be at the other end of the contract until it's fulfilled,"

Constantine stepped forward once again, cigarette all but ash between his lips now, "Contract, right, mate. So uh, one of our sorry blokes gets access to your unfathomable power for the time it takes to beat whatever the hell it is out there. And in exchange, you get a cuppa? Maybe some biscuits and other treats with it to sweeten the deal?"

Danny smiled brightly at the ruffled looking blond and nodded, "Sounds good to me!"

All at once, the room dropped in temperature as the summoning circle around Danny became encased in ice. The ice shimmered an otherworldly dark blue, almost black, and stretched until it reached the feet of the young king. A spark lighted ontop of Danny's head before exploding into a flame, a crown taking shape through the smoke of the fire to sit upon the teenagers head. There was a flash of blue as a ring materialized on the teen's finger, as well as a cape seeming to sew itself from nothing to sit upon his shoulders. Danny looked sheepish as much as he looked serious, his eyes now emanating a neon green with hints of red in his pupil.

"This is kind of the awkward part, whoever what's to use my power will have to form the contract. I don't really feel comfortable with a super or meta using it, with how powerful I am it might cause more damage than repair it, so preferably a human or mostly human host?"

Danny looked so incredibly shy all of a sudden as he rubbed the back of his neck in an incredibly human gesture. The word's were out of Batman's mouth before he even realized he was speaking then.

"I'll do it," The Bat walked forward to stand beside Cobstantine. Constantine pinched his eyebrows together before letting out a nervous chuckle. Danny just seemed to light up.

"Ohmygosh I'm going to be core merging with Batman," the young king seemed to be doing another small fan-boy freakout before coughing and collecting himself.

"Right, right. Contract to do now, tell my Fraid about this later," Danny lifted up a flaming hand towards the edge of the summoning circle, motioning gently to the Bat.

"Heads up, this is going to feel really weird. Just keep holding onto me after the contract sets, and then make sure to get everyone away as fast as possible. You will grow, it's not gonna be very nice if other people are around because you'll squish them,"

The other League members around nodded mutely, eyes staring at Batman as they prayed and wished for his safety. Batman just gruffed and slowly placed his own hand into the awaiting palm. It didn't burn as he thought it would. In fact, it felt quite cold. Like the feeling of putting your bare hand into a pike of snow just to know how it felt. Batman forced himself not to shiver as he felt the contract form through the handshake. The young king sent him a reassuring smile before he seemingly vanished.

No, not vanished. There was a bright light in Bruce's gloves hand that shook with power. The light—sphere, orb?—sunk into his palm, and this time Bruce did shiver. It felt like the biting winds of a blizzard as it crept up his arm to settle in between his ribs. There was a ringing in his ears blocking out the noise around him, but he could faintly make out images of the League rushing away from him and giving a very large berth.

There was a building in his chest, and he felt it pulse like a second heartbeat. Bruce pulled his hands to his sternum and clawed uselessly as the hevlar, the freezing cold threatening to consume him whole inside and out. His chest pulsed, and he fell to the ground in a heap. Bruce heard some of the members try to rush to him, but the JLD held them baback. There was a cracking like ice pulling away from itself, like glaciers splitting, and all of a sudden Bruce felt power rush through his veins.

It should have been overwhelming, it should have terrified him into immeditely creating contingencies, it should have drove him mad with power, but it didn't. Bruce didn't realize his form had grew until he opened his eyes (when did he close them) and blinked down at the members of the League. They were so...small compared to him now. Bruce felt more than he saw the flames dance from his collarbone, and they flickered up high around his thankfully still cowled face. Though, it seemed his face was the cowl right now.

Bruce turned to the being they were fighting (and losing to) moments ago, and smirked. He felt the spike of fear, and he suddenly knew that this thing didn't stand a chance.

GUYS I KNOW BRUCE WOULD NEVER AGREE TO POWERS LMAO LET ME DREAM THO I THINK HE WOULD LOOK COOL ASF AS A GHOST!!

#dc x dp crossover #dcxdp #danny phantom crossover #danny phantom #ghost king au #ghost king danny #jason todd #red hood #batfam #batman #sam manson #tucker foley #danny fenton #ghost core

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cas-backwards-tie · 6 months

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Chapter Six: The Summer of a Lifetime

Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Heiress of Gotham | Previous Chapter

Summary: With things out of the way and perhaps a little more trust, maybe the reader will finally start to make some progress, and a few friends along the way.

Warnings: Spying, Being Spied On, Insects, Wet T-Shirts, Flirting,

Words: 3.6k

A/N: While this chapter may seem like it takes a lot of twists in turns in the vignettes, it's sort of meant to reflect the ups and downs and small moments we have during summer. Honestly, though, this is perfect for the introduction of certain characters and plotlines I wanted! القرف = ‘shit’

It'd been an interesting end to the school year, really, and that's aside from the fact that you'd had to deal with and go through the grief of your Mother passing. Within the few months you'd been at Wayne Manor, the family had quickly learned many things about you. Bruce had found out how frugal and tenacious you are, insistent on selling some of your old articles of clothing for money on some app he could never remember the name of, meanwhile refuting the many attempts he'd offered to take you out shopping. Who wants to go shopping with their Dad anyway? He'd been consumed with work, and therefore more time had been turned over to your brothers.

While school was out for both you and Damian, Tim had decided to take summer classes at the nearby community college since it'd make his college applications only look better. Dick, of course, was still working, and Jason, really, you had no idea what was going on with him since it seemed he had most days free and nights taken. While you'd considered the possibility that someone associated with the Wayne family had a night-time job, you also didn't want to think of someone who very quickly became a big brother to you in that manner. That was just... ew. With the three eldest gone or rarely home, you'd been left with Damian and Alfred mostly.

--------

“So… you’re spying on your own child because…?” Tim draws out, leaning against the motherboard as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Because it’s Bruce? You’re not the first. Thought you would’ve been the wiser, Green Bean,” Dick chides as he manually stitches another loop into his uniform. Seated on the edge of the metal table propped against the railing on the other side of the platform.

“She’s been watching television for over two hours straight. Is this unhealthy?” The man of the hour speaks, eyes unmoving from the image of you through the lens of one of his pesky drones.

“Hey, you’re the one who’s supposed to be parenting, yeah? You chose to bring her on, you choose what’s healthy and unhealthy,” the elder boy retorts, a clear sass in his tone that reminds Bruce where Damian’s gotten it from.

“Hn,” the old man groans, “That doesn’t mean I know what’s standard in teenagedom as of currently,” he grumbles more to himself than anyone.

“Have you tried, I don’t know, just talking to her?” Tim asks, an eyebrow quirking as he doesn’t try and hide the amused smile breaking across his lips.

“You’re one to talk,” Bruce teases the boy. He’s still somewhat resentful of the way he’d handled things with Stephanie a few years ago now.

A huff of annoyance leaves Tim and he rolls his eyes. Pushing off the computer, he turns to head for the stairs when he spots movement on the monitor. Dick doesn’t seem to care, rather, he’s focused on fixing and upgrading his equipment. However, Tim watches from just a few feet behind the old man’s chair. His drone follows you as you get up, bringing an empty dish and glass to the kitchen. You don’t notice, of course, as Tim knows this has to be one of the nano drones, most likely, disguised as a fly following your movements through the Manor just a few hundred feet above them.

It’s uninteresting, really, the way he watches you put your empty dish in the sink along with your glass. Your visage shifts, heading back to the living room, but doesn’t fail to notice the nano drone. “Spotted,” Tim announces, curious to see where this goes.

“That doesn’t mean anything. Most people aren’t fazed by an insect,” Bruce defends, finally taking his gaze off the screen for a mere moment as he turns to Tim. The boy watches as you step closer to the drone; the still fly on the fridge’s handle was easy to spot, and while your eyes quickly move on in an attempt to seem as if you hadn’t noticed the bug, not wanting to disrupt it or scare it away, you step closer to the fridge.

On top of the box lies an item you’ve been grateful for ever since you’d gotten your Mom to buy it offline. Easily stepping on your tiptoes you grab the object’s handle and have your finger ready atop the trigger. Now all that’s left is to catch it off-guard.

The amused look on Tim’s face makes Bruce paranoid; blue eyes racing back to the monitor, he watches as a tennis-racket swatter comes his way. Lifting the nanodrone up and off the surface he barely escapes the touch of the electric swatter. Bzzt! He’s hit. Flying across the kitchen and landing on the counter, he turns the drone around to get you in frame again. “And you thought she wouldn’t do anything,” Tim laughs. An error message pops up, screen turning red along with the artificial voice alert. Clearly you’ve damaged the drone.

“It only took twenty-five percent capacity,” Bruce announced, clicking different keys to get everything back to neutral.

This elicits Dick’s eyes as his focus shifts up to the situation before him. An amused smile graces his lips and he can’t help but sometimes pity the man. Bruce… tries. He means well, but he doesn’t always have the best approach. “Gotta say, this is better than reality tv.” His Father shakes his head and, attention returning to the monitor again after being distracted by Tim.

“You risked a drone for this? Come on, man. This is your own daughter we’re talking about,” Tim chastises, even if he’s still laughing and more than amused by this. If he wants to waste his tech, by all means, let them watch. It’s not like he can’t get more.

The men watch as you look around the kitchen, eyes taking everything in. With an occasional turn, and a flip of your hair, he’s spotted again! This time Bruce sees you coming before he can be squashed. Out of sight, out of mind, he thinks. “Honestly, I’m just lucky she didn’t spot me earlier. Ace and Titus weren’t the most helpful considering they kept tracking my movements, clueing her in. But she didn’t get me until now.”

“I’m impressed she even got you at all, honestly,” Dick comments, drawing their attention again.

“Not a fan?” Tim asks, curious to hear his thoughts. After all, he hasn’t been around as much considering things have been busy with school, and hectic with Stephanie… therefore, he doesn’t know as much about you. He hasn’t spent as much time around you as the others.

Met with a noncommittal noise, Tim watches Dick shrug. “I’ve got nothing against her aside from what she said at her dinner and obviously her hate for the BPD,” he trails off, a shudder running through him, “then again, she was kind of insane when we were moving her stuff. Threatened to kill us and all. Not really the type of vibe you wanna have running around the house, you know? At least, not mine, I’ll tell you that.” With a chuckle, Dick lifts the needle to his mouth, teeth going for the fabric since he hadn’t bothered to grab scissors.

Tim almost laughs along with his brother, that is until he processes what he’d said. “Wait, what-?!” Eyes quickly darting between him and Bruce, he’s suddenly alert. “What do you mean she tried to kill you?! What’re you talking about? Hey- why didn’t you tell me this?” He zeroes in on Bruce, determined to get an answer. “Does Damian know? Why am I the last one to find out about anything around here?” He complains.

“I mean she tried to-“ Dick begins.

“She did not! Dick, stop exa-“ Bruce interrupts.

“Bruce-“ Tim interjects, eyes suddenly on your approaching visage in the drone’s visual. “Bruce!” You’ve got the fly cornered, with one swift sweeping wack, and a press of the button, it’ll die.

“What?!” He yells. As soon as he turns from Tim to the monitor he’s too late. Zzztt!!! They all grimace and wince. An alert pops up on screen:

‘V I S U A L L O S T’

The options to ‘connect to different device’ or ‘relay input’ lie underneath the big text, but ultimately you’d destroyed the thing. With the click of a button Bruce closes the tab and the background of the Manor’s security camera feeds linger. Alfred dances in the office as he dusts along, presumably, to music—Bruce knows his routine. On another, you’re carrying the nanodrone on the electric swatter to the trash, disposing of the ‘fly’ you’d killed. Lastly, Damian is reading, doing his homework as he sits in an armchair by the fireplace in the Library, Titus curled up by his feet.

“Dammit! This is why you can’t just be in here. You’re either here for a purpose or you’re out,” Bruce dictates. “Dick is actually doing something, Tim. You’re just gossiping.” With a defeated drop of his hands to the desk, he raises himself from his computer chair and rounds Tim.

“You still didn’t tell me what happened,” Tim argues, the anger in his voice no longer hiding. “I’m tired of being out of the loop! What happened?” he demands. A sigh weighs Bruce’s shoulders down, and as Dick finally takes in the men before him, he doesn’t dare to add any more flame to the already burning fire.

“She was involved with Marin. Alright? She thought he was coming for her, momentarily figured we were in on it. Satisfied?” Bruce responds, turning to face the boy.

They all know he’s been hurt. That he has trauma… it’s no secret. Yet, it’s only in few and far between moments that the boys are able to see things for what they are in a crystal-clear view. This is one of those times. Their warped views on good and evil, right and wrong, revenge and punishment… they blur the lines of reality in ways he’s sure that you, a civilian, would never understand, and yet… Tim realizes the weight of this.

“Who-?”

“Angel Marin. Bludhaven’s biggest mob boss,” Dick informs. A ‘Hn’ leaves Bruce’s lips as he makes his way toward the stairs, and a sigh leaves Tim. With a grateful nod in Grayson’s direction, Tim follows after Bruce.

------

“You know, someone mentioned your birthday is coming up,” Bruce teases, a hint of a smile hiding behind his wine glass.

The quick flash of a smile overtakes your face before you try to hide it. None of them miss it. “Um… yeah. W-who said?”

It’s invisible, perhaps, to all besides those who know him best, however, Bruce pales at the question, faltering. While you’re good at reading people, you don’t notice. Whether it’s the subject matter or the way everyone’s staring, you simply wait for a response.

“Uh, the-“ he clears his throat, eyes suddenly downcast as he reaches for his knife and fork to cut his steak, “the social worker! Yes, she mentioned it while you were in your meeting.” Obviously a lie. If anyone truly knows Bruce the way most at the table do, they'd know he found it in your files and footprint.

“Oh,” you respond, putting on a fake smile as you too attempt to hide behind the meal. Birthdays can be a big deal for some, and others, not. It all depends, and you aren't sure where things lie in this family. You still feel like an outsider, despite their attempts, and you don't want to burden them further.

“We could have a party!” Damian suggests, to everyone’s surprise.

“You just want a party,” Jason comments with a chortle.

“Is there anything you want?” Dick asks, looking down at you from your side, putting you on the spot. His kind blue eyes stir something within you, and you turn your gaze back to your plate. Busying yourself by cracking your knuckles, your lips purse into a line. With a shake of your head, it’s clear no one is sated.

“There’s nothing you want? At all?” Bruce prods, eliciting your eye contact again. Lips pursing even more you shake your head again.

“Um,” eyes falling to your lap you collect yourself, not allowing your imagination to run wild. “You taking me in was enough. Thank you.” Voice quiet, everyone has their own reaction to your words, albeit unbeknownst to you.

“Oh, shut up! You know there’s at least one thing you want,” Jason teases from across the table.

“Oh? And what’s that since you know her so well?” Tim pries, knowing he’s setting his brother up. Jason hesitates, almost choking on his drink which elicits laughs from the boys, and an amused smile from Bruce. As bickering starts to ensue, you decide.

“I-“ all eyes turn to you, “I want a party!” You announce. With a confident smile, you figure, how bad could it be? After all, parties don't need to be big! Something sweet, the family there, and a boardgame is all you'd need for it to be considered a party to you.

“See? At least I know what she wants,” Damian chides proudly.

“Oh? Well what kind of party would you like?” Bruce asks.

“Who do you want to invite?” Dick inquires.

“What’s the theme?” Jason adds.

“Actually, isn’t your birthday coming up now that I think of it?” Tim voices his concern over to Jason.

“Uh…” Jason shakes his head a little, taken aback, “I mean, I don’t really celebrate anymore since-“

“-the same day as Alfred’s, that’s right,” Bruce saves them, an unfazed smile on his lips, “though I believe we can celebrate both, can’t we?” While you’re not exactly paying attention, to the rest of them there’s a silent, yet menacing request behind his eyes. It’s clear they’re not allowed to speak freely anymore, no matter your new seat at the table of their family.

“Okay, but mine comes first- or did you forget again?” Damian asks with a bite. Upon the silence, he rolls his eyes and goes back to his meal with the exasperated sound of his breath hitting his tongue against his teeth. An audible ‘Tt’ sound.

“I didn’t forget, Damian,” Bruce clenches his jaw and grips his glass a little tighter. Does every family dinner have to turn into a fight? “You know I was with the-“ he catches himself, “Hn- that I had to-“

“-business calls… we’re well aware, Father. Perhaps you’ll do yourself a favor and won’t miss your other child’s birthday,” Damian finishes the conversation. “Not that I count on it.”

--------

Walking through the pool room, you’re focused on texting Daisha, intent on telling her the good news!

‘Omg you’ll never guess what just happened! I’ll ha-‘

Splash!

A dissatisfied exclamation escapes your lips as you stare at the wet stain on your shirt. “Really?! Dam-“ looking up from your drenched navy tank top, your eyes widen and lips part.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I thought you were Damian.”

You quickly take in the super-soaker and the boy’s apologetic expression, and it’s easy enough to put two and two together. As footsteps quietly click against the tiled floors of the locker rooms leading toward the pool deck, you grab the boy’s hand and drag him back the way he’d come around the corner. There lies a linen closet between the pool, laundry room, and stairwell. With a swift hand, you open the door and shove him in, following after as you quietly shut the door.

A bemused smile appears on his lips as his eyebrows furrow. “You’re his sister,” he whispers with certainty, “I’m Billy.”

Whispering back your name, he repeats it. Visibly eager on saying something else, you place your fingers on his lips to shut him up. He follows your eyesight, both of you staring through the slats in the closet door. With a keen ear, he gets the gist and remains quiet. As moments pass, you can feel the boy staring; curious, you meet his gaze only to find him searching your eyes. You can’t help but notice how pretty his are. Though you almost get swept up in admiring his features, you hear a faint creak only meters away; with a motion of your other hand, you beckon him to hand you the gun.

Transferred into your open hand, you slowly remove your fingers from his lips, cupping the barrel of the super-soaker while the other wraps around the handle, fingers ready at the trigger. With a head nod toward the door, you mouth the words: ‘On three! Ready?’

Billy seems to understand, as he holds his hands up in a ready stance to push open the doors. Together, you both mouth the countdown (which is really a count up, but anyway): ‘One… Two…’

“THREE!” Busting out of the closet, Damian is just a few feet from your right. It’s easy to spin and shoot as you’d been prepared, having watched him walk past the door together. Your brother had jumped, yet shot a few instinctive rounds of water, splashing both you, Billy, and the wall.

“القرف! What the hell! What are you doing here? Who let you play?” Damian curses, holding his gun in a stationary position once you’ve all recovered from the attack. His suspicious green eyes narrow as they dart between the two of you.

“I figured it was only fair since you didn’t let me know about your little game and I got caught in the crossfire,” you reason, pointing to your shirt with the gun.

“I accidentally shot her thinking I had you cornered, so…” Billy’s words die on his tongue. Without sparing the kid a glance, you shove the super-soaker back in his hands before offering him a grateful smile. At least you’d hit Damian once, you figure. With that, you’re more than happy to abandon the boys to their games as you walk toward the laundry room to see if your clothes are finished drying.

“You didn’t tell me she was my age!” You head Billy yell before a series of exclamations and curses follow with the sound of splashing water and rapidly receding footsteps.

--------

As stupid as it was to find your thoughts continuing to drift back toward a certain brown hair, green-eyed boy, you couldn’t help it. Though you’ve grown more tolerable of one another over the past few months, you still can’t believe that one of Damian’s friends is who’s on your mind. Nevertheless, fate would seem to have an amusing time linking the two of you together, constantly running into the other.

You suppose it isn’t strange after all, especially when considering he is one of Damian’s friends… however, you find him over the at Manor more and more often after the initial first time he’d quite literally bumped into you.

--------

“Grab me a juice box? I forgot one too—“ Damian’s voice echoes throughout the theatre as Billy yells back an affirmative answer and heads back toward the kitchen.

“Oh, hey-" You greet, backing up as a familiar figure exits the home theatre.

“Hey- what’s up?” Billy asks, a friendly smile gracing his lips.

"Was just gonna get a snack before we start," you tell him, "Guess we're headed the same way then," you tease. Walking down the hallway and up the stairs to the kitchen, you're aware of your brother's friend just a few steps behind.

“Are you gonna watch with us?” Billy asks hopefully.

“I mean, if that’s okay, yeah, I was planning on it." You respond, not thinking about it too much. After all, you want this popcorn to be good, not a burned pile of charcoal.

“Oh, I didn’t mea-“ Billy goes to correct himself.

“It’s fine. I’ll be down in a minute, I’m just making my own popcorn because the boys would eat it all otherwise,” you joke. Surely since he's friends with Damian he knows what the guys are like.

“That’s smart- that way you don’t have to share and keep passing it back and forth the whole time.” Billy adds on.

“Yeah. Do you want some? I can make another little packet,” You offer.

“Sure! I can do it though, you don’t have t-“ He argues.

“-I don’t mind! I've gotta wait for it anyway and grab some bowls. So I'll see you down there!" With that reassurance, Billy offers you one last smile before taking the juice boxes downstairs.

The older boys and your Father had insisted you pick the movie considering it's your first movie night with the family, and while most of them had been dreading what genre you'd pick, everyone ended up excited to watch a classic comedy most of them hadn't seen in years. Snuggled up under the fluffy blankets with your popcorn and the laughs of your brothers all around, you couldn't help but enjoy the fun.

--------

Most of the summer felt like it was spent in your room. Whether it was trying to explore the things that truly make you happy, or being lonely in a place that still feels entirely all too unfamiliar despite the fact that it's been a couple months.

The material things did help at first, the new environment, the little gifts your Father and brothers would treat you to, like those little Squishmallows you'd always seen and wanted at the store, but never bought yourself. They were more expensive than you'd ever thought to casually pay. Nevertheless, you've started to make your room truly your own. With decorating, personalizing, and getting into your own sort of routine, it seems that everyone has been slowly becoming used to this new lifestyle.

Alfred insisted that as summer begins to come to a close, you all decide on either making time for a vacation, or perhaps you and Damian get involved in extra curriculars. In the sake of preparation for school, you'd taken up driving lessons as you'll soon be old enough to begin the process of obtaining your permit. Then there was also the announcements from the school you'll be attending in the fall; with sports and clubs gearing up for homecoming, tryouts were coming up. Your Father had insisted that Damian consider a sport this year, and Alfred equally has been trying to push you in any sort of direction that'll lead to getting you out of the house and your room.

Needless to say, he wouldn't let go of the idea that your mental health could use less isolation and more friends, hobbies, and pursuance of your 'passions' even if you're not entirely sure what those are yet. It didn't take long for you to succumb to your butler (essentially) grandpa's badgering. Though you have a plan in mind for what sport you'll be trying out for, you haven't revealed them to the family. The way they seem to share everything is... still new, and somewhat unsettling to you.

~~~~~~~~

forever taglist: @ohdamnadam , @safarigirlsp , @jynzandtonic ,@moonlightsolo

hog taglist: @luvly-writer , @clairese1980 , @theroyalmanatee ,@azazel-nyx , @nightrose-18 , @vanessa-boo , @ih4temy5elfs0b4d , @agent-nobody-knows , @scarlett13 , @hoeinthehouse , @huhhuhh , @maxinehufflepuffprincess

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imaslutforcuddles · 10 months

Text

ESCAPISM

Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

summary | after being broken up with, you plan on being sad and lonely but others convince you sex just sounds too good not to drown in. You end up meeting someone at a bar, who you might just love forever.

words | 2k

warnings | smut (18+) oral (f receiving) fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), pinv, DRUGS (don’t mix drugs and alcohol), substances, high sex, subby reader, drunk sex, multiple orgasms, aftercare, little angst, self pity, breakup bullshit, swearing, sex jokes, bitches, arguments, mention of cheating, idiots in love, a little bit of a sad ending.

A/N | i have been living off of escapism and i couldn’t not write a fic about it, imagine meeting eddie in a hot and sweaty club... Reader is called bean as a nickname in this because it’s cute, don’t judge. Also, this has a platonic love circle with y/n, robin, and steve (although he’s not really brought up in this). Their like a lil family. I might do a part two if yall want. DON’T DO DRUGS KIDS. 18+ MINORS STAY BACK.

a little context if you care to listen find myself in a shit position the man that i love sat me down last night and he told me that it’s over

You shoved a box in his hands with tears streaming down your cheeks, “There. it’s all your shit, now fucking go.”

He grunts a little but stays put, “You know i still care about you right.”

Sighing you start to push him out the doorway and onto the cold, “Have a good life Jason.”

You aggressively moved your hand toward the door signaling that he needed to leave, when his heavy body wouldn’t move.

Huffing as your eyes start to burn,

“Just leave, never ever talk to me again.”

He stares at you longingly as if he hadn’t ended just fucked another girl.

“I’m sorry.”

You slam the door and smack your face in disgust,

how could he have done this to you?

- Three weeks of sulking later -

Robin groaned, “Oh come on y/n! We have to go out and get some, or at least you. God knows how long its been since you’ve been eaten out!”

Your eyes widened and you huffed, “Jesus Fucking Christ Robin! I’m fine!”

She stares into your soul arms crossed and eyes squinting.

Raising your hands in defeat you exhale the air you had held while having a staring contest with robin, “Fine, but i don’t need some random dude to make me feel better.”

Robin shrugged, “Ehhhh not sure about that, but you at least need some weed or something.”

You smile and snuggled deeper into your bestie, “Love you robin.”

She grins and looks over at you, rubbing your shoulders with her soft palms.

“Love you too bean.”

Nights with Robin had been frequent since the breakup. It would start the same very time too, you’d call sobbing about him or about your depression and she’d show up at your doorstep with open arms.

Things would be so different without Robin, you can’t believe you have a friend as amazing as her.

dumb decision

The next day you saw her, she came in with a wide mischievous smile and two occupied hands, holding with clothes fit for a prostitute.

“Robin what the fuck is that?”

She shrugged, looking from the outfits to you.

You grasp the thin fabric if your hands, it did feel really nice..

“A little something to cheer you up? We can look like hot chicks, maybe fuck, maybe get some free drinks.”

You hesitated, free drinks..

“Alright fine.”

and i’m out on the town with a simple mission, in my little black dress, and this shit is sittin

So here you are, sitting in the back of the club holding a glass of champagne waiting for someone to sweep you off your feet and fuck you into oblivion.

As much as you didn’t believe in fairytales, this might as well be one.

You scoff as a girl in your ‘friend group’ makes some lame joke about being horny and ready to party, and Robin hands you a joint and leans down to the shared table you were sitting at to snort another line.

You take a long hit from the shared joint, “This is so fucking depressing.”

“Maybe it wouldn’t be if you weren’t such a slut.”

Some other girl across from you shouts over the music blasting around you,

“What the fuck did you just call me?”

Your face starts getting hot, you did not leave the comfort of your house just to get hated on by some random friends that Robin met up with at a shitty club.

“I called you a slut. I mean come on, you got cheated on. It seems like you were too slutty for poor Jason.”

She grinned and you took another long hit.

Damn can this shit start working?

“Do you even hear yourself? Your a fucking dumbass. So stop running my energy your not even worth it.”

Her smirk disappeared as your face stayed unfazed and stoic Your getting fed up with these girls around you.

How did she even know his name? Bitch probably fucked him too.

Grabbing your glass, you got up and headed to the bar for some more liquid courage.

“If the drugs won’t fucking cooperate maybe the alcohol will.” You groan.

Walking up to the bar you had almost wished you stumbled a little. To at least show your a little high, but no.

“What do you want?” A bartender grunted to you, if you weren’t so done with people’s attitude you might have actually cared that he was grumpy.

“The strongest shit you have.”

He took a deep sigh and smiled, “I’m sorry i was a bit rude there,”

You shook your head, “It’s all good buddy.”

He grabbed a glass and a bottle of what looked like a mix of Spirytus and tonic, you tut and grin. “What makes you so sure i wouldn’t like something sweeter instead of tonic?”

Looking up at you he chuckled, “You don’t look like a sweet type.”

Putting a hand to your chest you fake a sniffle, “I’m offended. I’m totally the sweetest person you’ve ever met,” you pause waiting for a name. He smiles realizing why you’re not continuing, “Eddie, my name is eddie. What about you sweet stuff?”

“Aha funny, i see what you did there.”

When you finally tell him your name his face softens, “That’s a beautiful name, it suits you.”

Eddie reaches for your hand, “Would you like to hang out with me after my shift?”

You squint your eyes, “That depends.”

His face contorts, he’s confused.

“On what sweetheart?”

Smiling you put your other hand on top of his, moving in closer to him. “On how quickly you can finish serving everyone else and start serving me.”

You grin while he just stands there awkwardly, “You don’t understand what i’m saying do you?”

Eddie awkwardly chuckles and shakes his head.

“Not in the slightest.”

Smiling, you reach for his collar to pull him onto your lips. You feel him tense up but soon relax and kiss back, “You don’t have to kiss me just because I kissed you.”

He smiles at your concern, “Don’t worry,”

Leaning in as close as he can from across the bar counter, he pecks your lips again.

“I wanted to.”

Watching him grin as he writes his number down on a nearby napkin and slides it over to you just makes you even more horny.

“Text me, I get off at one.”

You tuck it in your bra and smile, “Oh, I definitely will.”

He nods and walks off to serve more people, “Can’t wait sweetheart.” and you watch him the whole time. You watch as his arms flex while tossing around drinks, you bite your lip as he smiles at other customers.

You would have watched him the whole night but robin eventually found you staring, all alone and took pity on you.

“You look fucking depressing,”

Scoffing you get ripped from your spot on the stool, “I’m good right where i am robin.”

You wish that you would start to slur your words a little. I mean, it would make sense after all the glasses of alcohol you’ve been inhaling.

“Alright, let’s get you home.”

Robin may have come to get wasted, but she doesn’t want you to regret your decisions more than you already do now.

She slid her hands under your slick armpits and held you up by your waist, thinking that without her you probably would have fallen straight on your face.

And yet, you were fine without her.

Scoffing to yourself and shaking your head, you push her away. “Just because i’m not with him anymore doesn’t mean i need you to take care of me!”

You could tell Robin didn’t expect you were somewhat sober, she thought you were just wasted like all her other friends. But she shakes off the hurt and surprise in an instant, she knows what you’re doing.

“I don’t think that you should be yelling at the only person who’s here for you.”

She walks away with a huff and leaves you alone. While, you frown and turn away to look at eddie. Who is still serving anyone with the flick of a wrist.

“Hey! Eddie.”

He turns to you and smiles mouthing a hello back.

When you wave at him to come over, he can’t help but feel a growing buz at the bottom of his stomach.

“What can I help you with sweetheart?”

“Your shift is over.”

You watch the confusion fall over his features, “I thought it ends in thirty-” Smiling, you grab him by the collar and pull your lips to his ear. “Your shift is over Eddie.”

He almost purrs at the way your voice whispers his name.

You push him against his bedroom door and moan into his mouth, “Mfmh Eddie.”

Eddie smiles at your whining and flips the two of you around, pushing his groin to yours. The making out only stops for a second as eddie pulls at your shirt, you grin and help him take it off.

Harsh puffs are pulled out of your mouth when Eddie latches his lips to your throat, sucking red spots all over it.

“Agh,” You pant and pull him closer to your neck, and push your center towards his own.

“I need you Eds.”

He grunts and pushes you onto his bed, grabbing his belt and ripping it off his pants.

You start to drool watching him undress, his body was lightly toned but oh so beautiful.

As you start to reach for his dick he stops you and sighs, “As much as i’d love for you to touch me, I need to be inside you.”

He grips your dress and pulls it off you in an instant groaning at the way your panties were drenched in your juices.

“Is that for me?”

You whine and shake your head. “It’s all f’ you Eds.” Pushing your head back you moan as he puts his fingers on your clothed core.

He chuckles and rips your panties off, pushing a finger in between your folds and huffing at how warm you were.

“A-ah Eddie!” Your body shakes at the sudden contact, and he pushes the finger inside you making your eyes widen and back arch.

“Mmh is my sweetheart sensitive?”

You whine as he sticks another finger inside, pumping in and out slowly.

“Eddie more please!” You beg and plead as he just stares down at you with a smile.

He nods and smirks, “Whatever you say sweetheart.”

Eddie moves closer to you and starts to lick your clit. You just about cum then, but continue pleading for more.

“Please, please, please!”

Soon enough the licks turn into sucking and slurping. As if he was a man starved, Eddie eats you out like a meal. Your back arches even more when you start to feel a coil in your stomach building up. As if he heard you, Eddie sucks on your clit harder and it snaps.

Your body shakes and your thighs close around Eddies head as he continues licking you through your orgasm.

Eddie then comes up for air, as he smiles and huffs. “Your pussy tastes fucking amazing.”

With a whimper you pull his body closer to yours and reach down to grasp his cock, “Need you.”

He almost growls as you pull out what you wanted most and stroke it, “Damn sweetheart, your hands are soft.”

You chuckle and help position him so he can push in comfortably.

When he does finally fuck you it’s slow and soft. At first, you thought it was just going to be sweet until he started speeding up and pushing in harder.

As you moan he just pistons faster and rougher.

“You like that sweetheart?” He grins when you moan loudly in response, not being about to give a worded answer.

You can feel his shaft getting harder as he gets close to release.

Eddie grunts and huffs, pushing as fast as he can into you.

“Ugh sweetheart i’m gonna cum!”

He reaches down to your clit and rubs, as you writhe and squeal gripping his shoulders. “Oh, Eddie!”

The both of you reach your peak together, hands pushing against each others bodies.

When Eddie comes down from his high, he gets up and grabs you a towel wiping his cum off you.

“Here you are sweetheart.”

He smiles and gets in bed next to you trying to hold you close, but when you feel something other than lust for him you push away.

“This was just a hookup, an escape. Okay? Nothing more.”

Eddie frowns, but nods moving away from you. After a couple minutes of silence, you decide it’s too hurtful to just stay when you’re trying to convince yourself you aren’t good enough for him.

“I think I should just go.”

#eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson #eddie fanfic #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things season 4 #escapism #070 shake #smut #smut fic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic

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thebiggerbear · 4 months

Text

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.

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