#And also it’s literally every other fucking word out of this characters mouth

[rooolt]

personal fandom pet peeve is when people read really hard into jokes, but specifically only to make bad faith arguments or paint a character as the worst person ever. Character people don’t like for arbitrary reasons, who is generally characterized as being a sarcastic, dry person, will make one joke/the show will include them in a single comedy beat and suddenly no one knows how to laugh anymore

[nocentis]

x

[pantherxrogers]

earned it - yunho x fem!reader (smut 18+)

pairing: soft dom!Yunho x sub!reader

warnings: porn w/o plot, smut 18+ only, spanking, dacryphilia, dom/sub dynamics, ass play, explicit language, fluffy aftercare, probably more that I missed :/

summary: yunho spanks you. that’s literally it lmao. 🤭

a/n: such beautiful, beautiful hands 🙂‍↕️

my masterlist

This is a work of fiction and is not meant to represent real events or the actual personalities of any K-pop idols mentioned. All characters and situations are purely imaginary. This story is created for entertainment purposes only, and no harm or disrespect is intended toward the idols or their fans. Enjoy!

tears stream down your cheeks, blurring your vision and turning your thoughts to mush. but, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

every time you squirm, your sensitive nipples sweep against yunho’s slacks. he’s fully clothed, while you’re naked and on your knees, bent over his lap. you feel his smooth hands run over your ass, toying with you.

“fuck, look at this ass,” he grunts, roughly groping the supple skin. he lands a few quick swats, watching the way your ass recoils from the contact.

“yuyu, it hurts,” you whine, yet you push your ass further against his hand. the chuckle he lets out makes you feel pathetic. but it also causes a fresh wave of arousal between your legs.

“i know, baby. it’s supposed to hurt,” he coos, using his other hand to squish your cheeks together. he nearly groans at your expression, the lust in your eyes is tangible.

he takes in the way mascara runs down your face, ruining the pretty makeup you applied just a few hours ago. he loves the glassy look in your eyes, peering up at him like he holds the moon and stars. he can see the pleading in your expression, and it only makes his pants tighter.

craning his neck down, he guides you into a sloppy kiss, wetting your full lips. he licks into your mouth, laying claim to it. your soft mewls egg him on, promoting him to spank you even harder than before. the way you whimper against his lips is everything, and he pulls back to see his handiwork.

“you are such a slut, aren’t you?”

all you can do is stare up at him, barely registering what he’s saying to you. you nod your head, agreeing to anything that comes from his lips. the need to please him is strong, lulling you into a state of complete submission.

“hmm, my baby is so obedient. maybe i should give you a reward.” the next thing you know, his finger prod at your entrance.

he’s gathering your wetness, taking his time rubbing between your folds. you can’t hold back your moans, wiggling as much as you can to guide him towards your clit. you can feel it throbbing, begging to be touched.

“p-please yuyu, i’ve been so go- shit!” you yelp, unable to focus on anything outside of the way his fingers stretch you out. he’s starting with two, using his thumb to massage your sensitive clit.

“a little spanking got you this wet? damn, you really are a whore,” he chuckles, speeding up the movement of his fingers. despite the harsh words, he uses his other hand to gently cup your chin. he’s looking into your eyes, almost like he’s hypnotized by your gaze.

“i’m always wet for you, yuyu,” you hum, biting your lip. you don’t miss the way his eyes drop down, hyper focused on your pout.

“such a good slut.” there’s pride in his voice, making your heart flutter. you love his praise, and it’s pushing you near the edge.

you involuntarily flutter around his fingers, making it harder for yunho to continue stretching you out. he continues rubbing your clit, maneuvering his other hand to pull back the hood even further.

“oooo, fuck. ‘m too sensitive, yuyu,” you whine, simultaneously bucking your hips into his assault on your clit.

“you’re okay, baby. you’re okay,” he soothes, drawing languid circles against your nub. he can feel the way you clench on his fingers, spasming at random moments. an idea strikes him, knowing exactly what to do to push you over the edge.

gathering spit in his mouth, he lets it drip down to your asshole. using his left hand to strum your clit, he uses his right to push a finger into your asshole. it’s tight and warm, and he doesn’t miss the way you wiggle back onto it.

your moans increase in volume, overwhelmed by the stimulation of your clit and tight hole. you see white, reaching your high and letting your moans echo throughout your bedroom. yunho’s actions continue throughout your orgasm, satisfying you until the very end.

he chuckles at the way you slump further into his thighs, completely spent. easing his fingers out of you, he repositions you to cradle in his arms.

his aftercare is top tier, whispering sweet nothings as you come back down to earth. his hands are gentle as they caress your body, making sure you feel safe and secure.

you sink further into his grasp, melting into the warmth of his embrace. you feel your eyelids growing heavy, unable to think about anything aside from laying here with your lover.

“hold on, honey. just need to get you to the bathroom,” he hums, standing up to carry you bridal style.

the rest of the night passes without much fanfare. yunho gently cleans you up, helping you get ready for bed. the two of you shower together, yunho doing most of the work. he loves moments like this, fully doting on you and making you feel grounded. it makes him feel grounded, too.

after the shower, he knows it’s time for you to get some rest. as he tucks you into bed, you immediately seek out his warmth, snuggling into his side. you let out a satisfied sigh, finally settled in for the night.

“thank you for taking care of me, yuyu,” you murmur, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. he gently cups your chin, planting a slow peck to your lips.

“anytime, my angel. thank you for trusting me,” he replies, wrapping his arms around your frame. before long he hears your breath slow and feels your body relax.

he glances down, smiling at your state of serenity. with a swell of pride in his chest, he relaxes against the mattress. shutting his eyes, he’s ready to dream of you. little does he know, you’re dreaming of him, too.

[laughing-with-god]

These Things Take Time (Yandere! Supernatural! Taehyung x Reader)

Synopsis: There's something wrong with your boyfriend Taehyung. At least, you think it's him.

16.5k

Trigger warnings: yandere behavior, psychological gaslighting, violence, gore, some heavy making out, strong language, AFAB reader (she/her) I'm sure I'm missing some but you know me and what I write lol

Authors note: just a real quick thank you to @bigbuffjoonie and @mustardpop for having beta read and brainstormed with me literally a year ago about this fic that I never published until now.

-----

He passionately thrusted her against the wall, mouthing at her neck while muttering disgusting things that he was going to do to her.

It was foul…

It was taboo…

It was…..

Your fingers paused and hovered over the keyboard, the constant clicking of your writing coming to a sudden halt.

Your eyes scanned the last few lines, lips instinctively mouthing the words and checking the overall flow of the plot.

Your two main characters were about to fuck each other’s brains out after a long ‘will they or won’t they’ that spanned well over a dozen chapters.

There should be a feeling of torture, a feeling of relief, a feeling of frenzied lust that just couldn’t contain itself anymore and combusted within the contents of these pages.

That is what you desperately wanted your loyal readers to experience when they get to this scene.

Yet when reading the long-awaited buildup, you felt nothing.

You cared for every character you created like a mother does their child, them getting their happy endings was just as important to you as it was to them. So why did you feel so numb and dissociated from everything you’ve been typing the past hour?

You released a disillusioned sigh and leaned back into your chair. Your eyes stung from staring at a screen for so long and your limbs ached to be stretched with hours of immobility.

Writer’s block was a bitch.

Unlike other skills, writing was one of the few expertise that working harder at it won’t guarantee a better outcome. You could type away until your fingers were bruised and bloody, but it doesn’t mean anything you wrote would be worth shit. Writing was a talent and it came and went as it pleased. And right now it was gone.

Which left you very depressed and your editor very pissed.

You gave up the fight and reluctantly closed your laptop. Then stood to your full height, to give your back a much-needed stretch.

‘I tried today. And that’s okay. I’ll try again tomorrow.’ You thought to yourself, half heartedly taking your therapist’s advice to acknowledge your efforts and not just the outcomes.

When in a creative slump, it has been said that reading other works can be a source of inspiration. Can’t be a good writer yourself, then go out and read a good writer. With this thought in mind, you slowly exited your office and descended down the stairs.

Last week your mom sent you a book she recommended, and you’ve been so busy trying to finish your own novel that you just tossed it somewhere and haven’t touched or looked for it since. Though, you were almost certain you caught sight of it on the coffee table yesterday.

When you stepped into the living room, you spotted a familiar figure standing by the large bay window.

The sight tugged a small fond smile onto your face.

Taehyung was your boyfriend of six months.

He was strikingly attractive, tall, kind and clearly didn’t know his own worth because not only was he dating you, but he also agreed to move into this secluded farmhouse while you tried to finish your book. He assured that he could use this time and space to focus on his paintings as well, but you knew deep down he just didn’t want to leave you alone out in the middle of nowhere.

Right now only his profile was facing you, his alluring feline eyes staring at the raining scene outside, dark brows furrowed in heavy thought. He looked to be biting on his lower lip, a habit you’ve never seen before, but you supposed you two have only been dating for a few months so there was probably a whole world of little quirks you didn’t know of yet.

The scene was a bit intense, as you weren’t used to your usually cheerful boyfriend looking so ponderous. Yet you shrugged it off and just assumed he was most likely brainstorming his next painting. Taehyung was your first artist boyfriend and your friends did warn you that they could be a bit dramatic.

You quickly surveyed the room and indeed located the book on the coffee table. While reaching for it you called out, “Hey love?”

Taehyung snapped his neck at a speed too fast for your liking, instantly facing you with eyes wide and blown out in what you could only assume was shock.

You giggled, thinking he was too absorbed in his own world that he probably just now noticed your presence.

“I know I said I wanted pasta for dinner but how about we order some chinese instead?” You asked. Taehyung didn’t say anything, eyes still wide in unknown revelation, entirely unmoving. You continued, “This weather makes me not want to do anything, and I know you complain about the delivery time but we could just reheat the food if it gets here cold.”

It seemed like forever but Taehyung eventually nodded.

He then turned to face the window again.

You inwardly sighed and guessed he wasn’t thrilled with the idea of chinese. He always complained that you didn’t take care of yourself and how you needed home cooked meals rather than greasy takeout. But when creatively burnt out like this, you tended to just reach for the doordash because the act of cooking seemed entirely too much for you.

Hoping to butter him up, you tipped toed from behind and wrapped your arms around him. You nuzzled your face into his back and took a deep breath, enjoying the familiar scent of his outrageously expensive cologne. His body seemed to melt into your hold, tense posture suddenly limp and calm.

You reached up and pecked his cheek, grinning when you caught sight of his lips twitching upwards. Harmless manipulation complete, you trudged out the room with a lukewarm “Thanks honey!”

You skipped up the stairs and made a left into a hallway, quickly getting into the bedroom and preparing to plop into the heavenly crumpled mess of sheets and blankets, when an unexpected sound caused you to still.

The front door was opening.

Afraid of a possible home invasion, you rushed out to see what was happening.

The door was wide open and emerging into the home…was Taehyung.

His hair and jacket was drenched from the rain, four or so heaping grocery bags in his hold as he looked up the stairs at you with a tired smile.

“Hey baby, can you give me a hand with some of this? I got some sauce for the pasta and picked up some other stuff we were running low on.”

Time stood still.

Your jaw dropped in bewilderment.

Your mind struggling to process this odd collapse of reality.

The nearest grocery store was, at its quickest, still a twenty-minute drive into town.

There was just no way Taehyung was able to leave and get back in the same time it took for you to get up the stairs and into your room.

No one can be in two places at once.

What the fuck was going on?

You just saw him. You just talked to him. You just smelled him. You just touched him.

Taehyung’s gaze worriedly ran up and down your face, correctly detecting that something was dreadfully wrong. He kicked the door closed behind him and rather ungracefully dropped the bags, hastily stepping over some of the falling items to race up the steps and take you in his hold.

“Y/n? Baby what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost! Did something happen while I was gone?” He fretted.

“I-w-what-you-j-just-living room…” You stammered, not even being able to bring yourself to voice what was happening.

“What? What about the living room? You’re not making any sense.”

You gulped, looking up at him with fear. “T-Tae, I could’ve sworn I just saw you in the living room. I talked to you.”

Your boyfriend’s face dropped.

“Y/n, get in the bedroom and lock the door behind you.”

You irritably huffed while blinking away oncoming tears, realizing Taehyung didn’t quite understand what you were saying. “No! Not like an intruder! It was you.”

“I’m right here Y/n. I just got back from the market. I haven’t been home in the past hour. There’s no way you just saw me in this house.” He slowly explained, as if you were having some mental breakdown and needed to be talked off the ledge.

Your temper rose. “No shit Kim Taehyung! That’s why I’m scared! Do you have a twin brother or something? Or did you come into the living room before going back to the car to get the groceries?”

Taehyung backed away from you, clearly put off by your outburst. “No? First off, you know I’m an only child. Secondly, why would I come in and let you talk to me before going back out in the pouring rain, bring in groceries and then pretend I have no idea what you’re talking about when you said you saw me in the house just now?”

You glared up at him, now feeling foolish for even being scared in the first place of something that most definitely had a logical explanation.

Your boyfriend always had a more playful side than you and this was most likely the first trick he was trying to play in your very young relationship.

“I told you I don’t like pranks, Taehyung. You can pull them on your friends all you want but you promised to never pull one on me.”

He threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. “I’m not pranking you! It probably was an intruder who looked kinda like me and instead of letting me go and investigate, you're arguing with me?”

“It wasn’t an intruder! He didn’t take anything!”

Taehyung laughed incredulously, “Great, you're defending some robber over your own boyfriend now? I almost feel jealous.”

“There’s nothing to be jealous over because the guy was you!” You exploded.

“Which isn’t possible!”

“Go look then!” You relented.

Taehyung didn’t need to be told twice. He swiftly ran down the stairs and went through the entire house, searching for an unseen man who managed to trick his girlfriend into thinking he was him.

He found no such person.

It was only while you both wordlessly unpacked the groceries while licking the wounds of your little spat did Taehyung make a point that chilled you to the bone.

“Y/n, when you saw me…how did I look?”

You raised a brow at him. “I don’t know? You looked just fine.”

“Okay…and your working theory is I parked outside and came in, talked to you, then went back out, just to enter through the front again like nothing happened?”

You meekly shrugged, “Yeah I guess that would be a good trick.”

Your clever boyfriend pointed at the window, where it was still raining heavily. “I would've been soaked then, Y/n.”

That was the first incident.

— Dinner that night was a tense affair.

At least until Taehyung solemnly apologized for being so bad at hiding his true identity.

He then fessed up to being the Korean version of The Flash.

Against yourself, you bursted out laughing.

Maybe it was all the anxiety of the day that made you loopy, or your desperate need to just return to normal but you apologized for snapping and blamed your overactive writer's imagination for everything.

Taehyung said it was okay and that you actually looked hot when angry, you knew for a fact you didn’t but took the compliment nonetheless and suggested an early night in.

And just like that your first couple fight was over.

Yet that night when you were in the arms of your slumbering boyfriend, with his peaceful snores rumbling in your ear, all you could think about was the other Taehyung.

You regretfully lied to your boyfriend.

You knew for a fact that it wasn’t your imagination.

You were never the type of writer who got so immersed in your work that you began imagining things and confusing them for reality. If anything, you were too grounded in reality. In addition to this, you highly doubted that multiple weeks of writer’s block would even allow for such a vivid mirage to occur.

And the most damning evidence of all, if it was your imagination…why would your mind conjure up the exact replica of your boyfriend? The very man you live with and see everyday for hours on end? Wouldn’t it be a character from your book? Or at least someone you haven’t seen in a while?

It all didn’t make sense, but you didn’t have enough information to say what it was, you just knew what it wasn’t.

You rolled over and buried your face into Taehyung’s chest, practically praying for the mystery to soon be over and solve itself quickly.

It was most likely the overthinking and looming dark corners of the bedroom, but you began to feel like someone was watching you through the small gap in your ajar bedroom door.

– A few days passed and you have almost forgotten about the incident.

I mean, maybe not entirely but you were at least willing to chalk it up to a freak incident.

Scrolling through some discussion boards online showed that your story was actually pretty tame to what other unexplainable experiences some people have had. At least the other Taehyung didn’t try to scare or hurt you. It just seemed like he was doing his own thing really, like he was lost in his own world staring out that window. Thus you concluded that you weren’t in danger, and it therefore wasn’t worth freaking out about.

Mainly because your editor was on your ass and there was nothing productive about thinking of him when you were already so late on a deadline.

Naturally, you attempted to throw yourself into your writing, which was proving to be as fruitless as ever. Yet you knew giving your editor anything was better than nothing, leading you to sending half-assed drafts to him and enduring long calls about how your writing was okay, but not great.

You and Taehyung have been off too.

There was no more fighting or even words exchanged about the fiasco. However there still was an uneasiness between you two. You doubted that Taehyung believed your imagination excuse, but you also knew that he didn’t trust your original recollection of events either. Your boyfriend sort of walked on eggshells around you, almost as if you’d somehow think he was the imposter whenever he’d step into the room. You would be lying if you said you weren’t a little offended by it.

Luckily, Taehyung was currently immersed with his art, rarely leaving his little workspace. You wished you could say the same but you felt like you were simply writing in circles without actually getting anywhere. It was hard to not be jealous, but at least you were given some space away from him after a rather unresolved fight.

Meanwhile, you were planning to take a day or two off of writing, to just let your mind wander and relax so that maybe the next time you sat behind a laptop you could actually produce something worthwhile.

Of course it would just so happen that it would fall on the very day you get sick.

Waking up that morning you felt feverish and lightheaded, telling yourself that you could just use fifteen more minutes of sleep and you’d probably feel better.

You woke up five hours later; feeling even more feverish, lightheaded, and now nauseous.

You trudged downstairs to the kitchen and popped back some painkillers with a glass of water, already fantasizing about getting back into your warm and comfy bed once again.

Except what could make your bed even warmer and comfier? Taehyung.

Your boyfriend was always the more affectionate one between you two, you often practically had to push him away when you were trying to get work done. But now that you were willingly going to ask for his affection, there was no way he’d let you go uncuddled.

Any awkwardness in the relationship was long forgotten as you stomped towards his workspace, a demand to be held heavy on your tongue. You were too sick and exhausted to try to navigate relationship politics, but the whole point of a boyfriend was that he was supposed to provide attention on demand, right?

You reached his door and feebly knocked, trying to be polite to his artistic process and not just barge in.

You heard some shuffling on the other side and soon enough your boyfriend was in front of you. Taehyung hadn’t shaved his face in days, a faint goatee gracing his already intimidatingly handsome face. His black hair was messy and fluffy, a gold chain gracing his neck and drawing attention to his lack of shirt and gray sweatpants.

He grinned at you, “What’s up baby?”

You pouted up at him, momentarily not even ashamed to resort to such cheap tricks, “I feel sick and want to be cuddled back to sleep.”

“Aww poor thing.” He crooned while leaning against the doorframe. “Why don’t you head back up to bed and I’ll be up as soon as I can? I just finished a sketch and really need to focus on the next few steps before I can quit for the day.”

You huffed, kind of annoyed that he wouldn’t even take a break to hold you.

He rolled his eyes at your reaction, “Don’t look at me like that, honey. When the muse strikes, I gotta paint. Otherwise I don’t know when I’ll get the next chance for inspiration. You understand, right?”

“Yeah, I’m just really crabby and being held sounded really good.”

Taehyung chucked, muttering to himself a “cute” before leaning forward and pecking your lips. “I promise I’ll try to be quick. Go drink some water and wait for me. I’ll bring you some soup when I’m done.”

You just nodded and left him to his work. Instead of the bedroom, your feet somehow led you to the living room.

Maybe you should watch some tv while Taehyung worked? You already slept a lot today and if Taehyung was gonna be in bed with you later, perhaps it was a good idea to stay up for a little bit. Besides, you’ve been avoiding this part of the house ever since the incident and you needed to get comfortable in your own living room eventually.

Such a reminder of that rainy day caused you to cast a wary glance at the bay window, oddly feeling both relief and annoyance that nothing was there.

You plunked down onto the couch and wrapped a throw blanket around you, searching your usual streaming services for some comfort show to watch.

It was halfway through an episode of some show you’ve already watched countless times, when you heard footsteps approaching.

You looked up and saw your boyfriend, looking as cute and messy as before. Except now he held a sheepish smile on his face as he held up a steaming mug of something.

“What’s that?”

He took a seat next to you and gently handed the drink over. “Hot chocolate. I know protocol is tea whenever someone is sick, but I know how much you hate the taste.”

You fondly smiled and took the mug, flustered that he remembered such a minor detail about you. “Thank you love but you didn’t have to. You should be focusing on your work. Don’t let me distract you!”

Taehyung shook his head and threw an arm around you, holding you tight against him. He craned his neck and looked down to you, almost meeting you nose-to nose to connect his gaze with yours. Suddenly a serious expression replaced his formerly sheepish one.

“Actually, I wanted to talk.” He said, taking a deep breath before continuing, “I-I wanted to say sorry.”

“For what?”

He licked his lips, “I know we’ve been kinda out-of-sync ever since you said you saw someone and I didn’t believe you. But, it just didn’t make sense. Like, how is that possible? Whatever the case though, I shouldn’t have made you feel like you were going crazy or something.”

You raised an eyebrow, “So you believe me then?”

“Yes. I know you wouldn’t lie. I don’t know what happened but…I know you know what you saw.”

A warm feeling spread across your chest, temporarily putting your sickness on the back burner. In truth, you weren't sure if the situation even called for an apology but you felt so pampered that your boyfriend cared enough to. “I-I’m sorry too, Tae. I shouldn’t have assumed you were being mean and pranking me. Snapping at you wasn’t cool.”

Taehyung just shrugged. “Nah, I probably would’ve done the same thing.”

You secretly agreed that you were in the right but still, if he was being a big enough person to say sorry so should you. You turned your attention back to the drink in your hands, taking a sip.

You nearly moaned in pleasure when the flavor graced your taste buds.

“What did you put in this?”

“Oh just some cinnamon and-”

“Ginger.” You interrupted, knowing without a doubt that it was the other spice.

“Yup. Why? Is something wrong?” He asked, probably worried you didn’t like it.

“No! It’s perfect.” You said before gulping down more of the nostalgic hot chocolate. “When I was a kid, I had a babysitter who would make her hot chocolate with cinnamon and ginger. Mrs Fritz was her name, a really kind old lady from down the street. I was her favorite so she made hot chocolate for me all the time and watched me for free whenever my parents went out.”

Taehyung hummed, a small smile on his face as you fondly recalled one of the biggest figures of your childhood. “She must’ve had great taste.”

“Mrs. Fritz had impeccable taste.” You good-naturedly corrected with a giggle. “I miss her. When other kids wouldn’t play with me she would stay inside with me and color or read me these cool stories.”

“I would’ve played with you.” Taehyung grumbled, in all likelihood noting how you grimaced at the memory of not being all too popular as a kid.

“Haha, you definitely wouldn’t have! I was such a dork and actually hated playing outside. Kid me much rather be at home watching some old movies or something. Not to mention I was quite an ugly little girl.” You laughed.

Tae gasped dramatically, “That’s not true! You were adorable!”

“You saw like one picture of me at eight! And my mom did me all up for that picture! Trust me, I didn’t look that good at all.”

Taehyung looked like he wanted to argue further, but realizing you were right he just dropped it with an unconvincing, “Whatever you say.”

“But anyway babe, you really can go back to painting. I don’t want to keep you. If I had any inspiration right now, you wouldn’t be able to tear me away from my laptop.”

His arm tugged you even closer. “Nope, I’m alright where I’m at right now. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I left my sick girlfriend all alone?”

You blushed, logically aware that you could handle yourself but emotionally over the moon that this beautiful man didn’t want you to. Selfishly, you wanted to take advantage of his presence even if it came at the expense of his art progress. So you placed the mostly empty mug on the coffee table, fishing out your phone from your sweatpant pocket and setting it there too.

You then curled up into his side, suddenly feeling so drowsy.

Taehyung held you closer, even playing with your hair as you lost the battle with your increasingly heavy eyelids.

You felt him press his lips against your forehead in a drawn out peck, as his nose ticked the crown of your head. He inhaled deeply, his everlasting love for your shampoo revealing itself once more.

“You okay?” His baritone voice whispered.

“Yeah. I just took some medicine that’s probably making me all sleepy.” You mumbled back.

You didn’t hear anything else, just felt as he rested his head on top of yours, presumably also closing his eyes to rest.

Slowly but surely feeling the mechanisms of your brain shut down, the darkness steadily taking over as the sound of the tv became more and more distant.

A notification from your phone caused you to open a single eye, quickly scanning the screen on the coffee table.

Taebear: Hey almost done over here! Do you mind turning down the TV a bit tho? Kinda distracting :(

Before you can even gasp, the medicine-induced darkness consumed you completely, effectively and brutally knocking you out.

That was the second incident.

–

“So like I was saying, I dumped his ass because what the fuck do you mean you ‘don’t know what we are’? I met his damn parents, Y/n!”

The voice blarred over the phone speaker, as you hummed rather noncommittally. “What a jerk. You can do a whole lot better, Lisa.”

You were in the laundry room, slowly taking clothes out of the dryer and folding them as you spoke on the phone with one of your closest friends. About once a week you two would have a call and catch each other up with your lives. Although, Lisa led a much more interesting life than you and usually had a crazy story to share every week, while you just reacted to it. It was kinda like a one listener podcast, but you didn’t mind as you were always very entertained with her.

“Thank you! I don’t know where I keep finding these guys. You really got lucky with Taehyung, all the other men our age are such assholes.” She groaned.

You wanted to laugh, but at the mention of your boyfriend’s name you froze.

Not catching your silence, Lisa continued, “Anyway, how are you and Taehyung doing? What’s it like to live together only six months into a relationship?”

“Actually…we had our first fight.” You told her. “Maybe. I don’t know. It may not even be considered a fight so much as a disagreement but I’ve been feeling a little awkward.”

“Oooh, what happened?” She didn’t even try to mask her excitement.

“It…I…Something happened and he didnt…I don’t know, Lisa. I’m going to sound crazy but I feel like I’m experiencing a glitch in the matrix or some shit.”

She pushed, “Try me. Remember when I used to be a flat earther? I’ll believe anything.”

Lisa made a good point, she was always down for conspiracies and even proclaimed herself a supernatural expert. So you relented, “Okay. Look, I don’t want you to laugh at me or anything because I’m being completely honest. I’m telling you this because I desperately need theories.”

“I promise I’ll give you a theory! Just get to it!” She barked over the phone, anxiously awaiting your story.

“Um, so earlier this week I went downstairs and saw Taehyung. I talked to him about ordering out instead of cooking, hugged him then went up the stairs. Then not even a second later Taehyung came home with groceries, telling me he wasn’t in the house at all when I said I saw him.” You paused, waiting for her to interject.

“Huh…” She trailed off, stumped herself with what that could mean.

“And yesterday, I went to Tae’s workspace to try to cuddle but he said he needed a bit more time with his painting and then he’d meet me upstairs. I went to the couch to wait and he suddenly came in and apologized for not believing me earlier. We cuddled and talked then…I got a text from Taehyung asking me to turn the tv down because it was distracting him.”

You took a deep breath to calm your rising nerves, not liking how you were managing to scare yourself all over again. “Lisa, how was I in Taehyung's arms when Taehyung wasn’t even in the room with me?”

“How did this other Taehyung act? Was he any different than your actual boyfriend?”

“I mean, the first time he didn’t say a word and I left the room quickly. The second time he was so sweet and…I don’t know. Maybe even nicer than my actual boyfriend but not like suspiciously so.”

“And there’s no difference between him and Taehyung? Same height, voice, birthmarks, everything?”

“Yes.”

A brief silence as she no doubt was working with a theory. “And you’ve never had experiences like this before you moved into that farmhouse?”

“None.”

“Ah-ha! It’s probably a ghost then!” She assured triumphantly.

You, however, weren’t so sure she solved the case. “A ghost that looks exactly like my boyfriend?”

“Well, crazier things have happened. You know, scientists say that each person has around six doppelgangers out there somewhere. What if this ghost was your boyfriend's doppelganger?”

“Still, why would he act like he was my boyfriend? Like, this ghost must have a different name and background than my Taehyung so why does he go along with it whenever I call him Taehyung and treat him like a boyfriend?” You questioned.

“The afterlife can get pretty dull. The ghost is probably just bored and noticed that Taehyung looks alot like him, so he’s using that to his advantage to mess around.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.” You grumbled, pissed at the prospect of you being a little plaything to a bored spirit.

“I know babe but ghosts are mostly harmless. If it really starts to bother you, maybe get a medium to move him along or whatever.” Lisa advised.

“Yeah, maybe.” – Mom: Look what I found!

The text came with a video attached, and you clicked it without thinking much.

A chubby little girl of about three to five years of age was badly hiding in a school cubby. Her mini feet sticking out and wiggling as the rest of her body was covered by a hung up winter coat. The cameraman sighed dramatically from behind the scenes, asking loudly, “Oh where could Y/n possibly be?!”

The girl giggled and a new figure slowly snuck into frame, approaching the cubby with a large grin.

The preschool teacher suddenly reached into the cubby and snatched the girl up, holding her up in the air as if the toddler was a prize of some sort. “Gotcha!”

The mini version of you laughed in her hold, kicking the air in glee. “Miss Addison you found me! You’ll find me anywhere, right?”

The young teacher nodded as she placed you on your feet. “Of course! I have a really good Y/n sense! I’ll find you anywhere.”

“Even the moon?” Innocent you asked, most likely just having learned about the star.

“Yes, I’ll find you on the moon if I have to!” Miss Addison chuckled.

The video ended and you went to type your mom a half-hearted reply, mostly inquiring how she still even had that clip after all these years.

While doing so, you caught yourself wishing that you could show this to Taehyung and prove that you were indeed not the best company as a child, your teacher had to play hide-and-seek with you because no one else would.

Yet, it wasn’t Taehyung you had that particular conversation with. Rather other Taehyung.

Or as you and Lisa had nicknamed; ghost Taehyung.

You failed to tell your boyfriend about the second incident. He woke you up an hour or so later with his promised bowl of soup, softly scolding you for never turning down the tv.

Deep inside you were sure that he was already convinced you were crazy from the first time his replica showed up. You didn’t seek to push that theory even further. Mostly because you didn’t want him to admit you to a psych ward, but also because of another glaring reason. The first time you were sure that Taehyung himself was messing with you somehow, which prompted you to accuse him, but this time around you knew for a fact he was innocent.

Instinctively, you didn’t feel threatened by the doppelganger spirit. If anything you sorta wished he’d pop up again with a ginger-cinnamon hot chocolate. It was kinda weird that he was acting like your boyfriend when he wasn’t, but he didn’t try to be too intimate with you or anything. The lease on the farmhouse was only twelve months so you could put up with a friendly ghost for a while if need be.

The only creepy thing was that you weren’t sure how you were going to tell if you were talking to the real Taehyung or not. Thankfully, the sick day incident seemed to be the last one, the last few days being almost eerily mundane.

The door to your bedroom suddenly slammed open, revealing your beaming boyfriend.

He held up a champagne bottle with one hand and two glasses in the other. “Guess what just happened!”

You sat up in bed and placed your phone on the nightstand as he giddily approached you. “What? Are we celebrating something?”

“Only the Bauhaus Gallery agreeing to schedule a showing for my latest collection!”

You jumped up in surprise, instantly wrapping your arms around him and plastering his face with kisses. “Oh my god! Tae! That’s amazing! I’m so proud of you! When is it?!”

“Next Friday at eight.” He chuckled through your kisses, fully basking in your attention.

The Bauhaus gallery was an uppity German gallery in town that apparently served as a who's who in the world of painting. Personally, you didn’t get what the big deal was, but Taehyung made it one of his career goals to have a show there. He always said that his career would really take off if he could showcase his work at such a place.

You pulled back and began thinking out loud as Taehyung worked on the bottle, “Wow, okay! I need to get a dress. And we should invite some friends to support you. Oh! Namjoon and his wife would probably try to buy a painting so we should see if they’re free-”

Taehyung cut you off with the resounding pop of the bottle, “Yeah yeah, we can plan that all out later. Right now I just wanna celebrate with my pretty girlfriend please.”

You quieted down and held the glasses as he poured. He then placed the bottle aside, took a glass and held it up for you to clink. You did so while your boyfriend declared, “To my collection and girlfriend; both beautiful and priceless!”

“You better announce that again at the afterparty!” You laughed, covering your blush.

You both finished the drinks rather quickly, him with a refreshing “ahh” and you with a cringe. Champagne really was overrated in your opinion, having no idea why it was the token celebratory drink. The glasses were then shoved somewhere aside, courtesy of Tae.

You laid back down in the bed, Taehyung unhurriedly following suit and even climbing on top of you at a leisurely pace.

Taehyung’s face was now inches away from yours, his every breath tickling your skin. His previous mood of joy shifted into something more…sultry. Cat eyes darkened, fully taking you in with a steadily growing smirk. The artist licked this bottom lip in a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it speed, before quirking one brow up in faux inquiry. His voice was low and husky, purring into your ears, “You know, it’s been a while since we’ve fucked.”

You snorted, “Gee, that’s hard to believe when you put me in the mood like that.”

“You like a man who's upfront.” He shrugged, not wasting a second more as he leaned down to slowly melt his lips against yours.

The intimate sensation felt almost foreign, the last few days having only been filled with obligatory pecks due to you two being so caught up in your work. You almost forgot how talented he was at making you feel special.

You kissed back just as slowly, feeling the intensity of his lips and taking the time to reacquaint yourself with them. It was gentle, deep, and meaningful. He kissed you gingerly, carefully, but that’s not what you wanted. Not after all this time. Pent-up sexual frustration caused you to knot your fists in his shirt, pulling him harder against you.

Taehyung groaned softly, low in his throat while encircling you in his arms to gather you against him. You two rolled over in the bed, tangled in the sheets, still locked at the lips.

His tongue slips into your mouth, tender but demanding. You swirl your tongue against his, moaning into his mouth as his hands snuck up to twist in your hair and grip you impossibly closer. Taehyung’s slight stubble prickles you, but somehow the extra sensation just excites you even more. Your boyfriend's lips pull back and meet their ultimate home at your neck, him now mouthing fervently at the sensitive nerves there as you gasped for air.

As you felt hotter and hotter, Taehyung answered your unsaid prayer and positioned his thigh between your legs, obscenely brushing against the place you needed him most. Knowing you like the back of his hand, he purposefully tensed his thigh as you not-so-subtly grinded against it, all the while he sucked and nibbled at the spot just below your ear.

A tug at your clothes.

Softly biting your earlobe, he whispered, “Be a good girl for me and take this shit off.”

Just when you were about to oblige, an unexpected sound cut through all the haze and caused you both to freeze.

It sounded like a…bang?

From somewhere deep within the house.

It was so loud and shrill, it effortlessly echoed off the walls of your humble bedroom. If you had to describe it, it was as if someone had just thrown a bowling ball with all their might.

Undoubtedly snapping into protector mode, Taehyung immediately jumped off of you and reached under the bed to retrieve a metal baseball bat.

“Stay here.” He ordered, already marching out the door before you could even protest.

You fearfully obeyed, reaching for your phone in case 911 had to be called.

Your once warm and flushed body was now icy with panic. Sitting upright in the bed, you strained your ears for any idea of what was occurring downstairs.

But alas, the house remained freakily silent. Almost as if that brutal sound was in your head and nothing more.

This did nothing to help your anxiety, a cold sweat quickly forming.

Minutes passed, you waited with bated breath for something. Anything.

But nothing ever came.

Your worry grew tenfold.

The longer Taehyung was away, the more you felt weighed down with dread, heart nearly in your throat.

‘What was happening downstairs? Was Taehyung okay? Did he find something? If there was a struggle, surely you would’ve heard it by now, right?’

Then ultimately, as the seconds ticked on, ‘Was your boyfriend going to come back?’

At the ten-minute mark, you made your decision.

Now concerned for your boyfriend’s safety, you sprung out of bed and ran out of the room. Your body purposefully moving too fast for your mind to catch up and halt your movements in the name of self-preservation.

“Taehyung?!” You desperately called out as you practically plummeted down the stairs.

“In here!” A croaky voice answered, sounding like your boyfriend but oddly…defeated?

You correctly traced the voice to his workroom, stepping into the space and seeing a scene that swiftly broke your heart, effectively replacing all your fright with woe.

Taehyung was on his knees in front of an easel, head bowed down.

The easel held a half-done canvas.

It was a sketch of two people, a man and a woman that closely resembled you and Taehyung.

It was partly painted, the scene depicting a warm sunny day at the park that looked alot like where Taehyung had taken you for a picnic and officially asked you to be his girlfriend. You were in Taehyung’s arms, kissing his cheek as he smiled his signature box-smile. You could recall that precise moment easily, you had just said yes to being his and sheepishly pecked his cheek, embarrassed by the old man on the bench a few feet away that eyed you two like a hawk.

It was a wonderful piece of unfinished art, not only due to the sentimental value but also the artistry and time that clearly went into it.

If only there weren't angry red sloshes of paint that cut through it, ruining the picture and turning it into something that looked like a horrible bloody mess of goo and not the romantic day it was.

“I-I was going to gift this to you….on our seventh month.” Taehyung’s voice was watery.

You didn’t even know what to say.

All of his hard work and thought was simply…gone. Erased. Ruined.

It would’ve been the equivalent of someone breaking into your laptop and deleting your entire novel’s draft. What would you even do? If roles were reversed, would there even be a way for Taehyung to console you? To make matters worse, it was his gift of love to you. He didn’t make that painting for himself, a buyer, or a collection…he made it for you.

Your empathy made you almost cry for him, but you knew that would be the last thing he’d want to see right now. His guilt would only grow.

You walked further into the room and got on your knees beside him.

Wrapping your arms around him, you cradled his head in the nook between your head and shoulder while rocking the two of you. “Tae baby, I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t say anything for a while, although you felt wet teardrops on your skin.

“Who would do this? It doesn’t make sense why someone would break in, take nothing and just destroy my gift?”

You didn’t know either, but you wanted to make him feel better. “Listen, I think it was the perfect gift. It’s really the thought that counts and I’m just happy that you even thought to make me something like that. Especially in the middle of working on your own collection, it must’ve been hard.”

Taehyung pulled back, regarding you with a tearful but hopeful gaze. “Really?”

“Of course! I was literally going to just get you a watch or something. That gift kinda would have made me look bad.” You attempted to joke.

He shakily smiled, even chuckling a bit before pulling back entirely and standing to his full height. Tae then held a hand out for you, pulling you up as well.

Not wanting to be in the room anymore with that awful mess, you gradually pushed him towards the door, eventually up the stairs and into your bedroom.

You both sat on the bed, him with his head in his hands and you awkwardly suggesting yet another early night in.

But instead of agreeing and attempting to join you under the covers, Taehyung continued to sit almost painfully still at the edge of your bed.

Then, he spoke.

“Y/n, you were lying when you said that guy was probably just a figment of your imagination.”

It wasn’t a question.

He knew.

He believed you now.

–

It was now the official opinion of the house that a ghost was indeed roaming around somewhere.

You wanted to pat yourself on the back because truly, your taste in men was superior.

Taehyung wasn’t one of those horror movie boyfriends that was convinced every unexplainable occurrence must’ve had a logical explanation. It only took that one experience for the artist to admit that something weird was going on, and although he never saw the ghost himself, Taehyung believed you when you said it looked exactly like him.

You were happy that you two were on the same page…well, mostly.

Taehyung reasoned that the lookalike ghost must’ve been the one to ruin his painting.

You don’t know why, but somewhere deep within, that accusation just didn’t feel right. Without thinking much, you had told your boyfriend that destroying his gift didn’t seem like something ghost Tae would do.

Obviously Taehyung was bewildered at your sudden defense of the spirit’s character and demanded to know how you could be so sure that it wasn’t him.

Feeling that your hand was forced, you fessed up to the second incident in which you ran into the other Taehyung. You explained that he was sweet, brought you hot chocolate and even held you as you fell asleep. It was only after the real Taehyung texted you that you realized it wasn’t your boyfriend, but by then it was too late.

Your boyfriend was understandably furious.

For one, you never told him that you were cuddled and taken care of by another man, dead or otherwise. And secondly, this spirit seemed to be taking too much of a liking to you. The artist was a weird mixture of jealous and protective, following you around the house and barely leaving you alone in fear that his replica would show up and snatch you away.

You thought he was overreacting, but Taehyung's determination to get rid of the ghost only grew as the days passed.

One day you took a break from writing and went downstairs to refresh your coffee, when you paused at the sight of your boyfriend waving an odd burning stick around the living room in a fashion that somehow made sense to him.

“Sage cleanses the home of negative energy and basically tells unwanted spirits to fuck off.” He told you as if you were the idiot and not him- wildly thrashing his arm around in a puff of smoke and demanding that his evil ghost twin left the premises immediately.

You shrugged, “Just don’t set off the smoke detector, please.”

The next day, Taehyung informed you over dinner that he called a security camera company and had ordered a set to be installed in your home.

“Don’t you think that’s kinda a big fucking thing to not run by me?”

“I’m sorry baby, but I knew you wouldn’t have agreed.” He apologized without seeming even the tiniest bit apologetic.

“If you knew I wouldn’t have wanted it then why do it anyway?!”

“Because as the man of the house it’s my job to protect us and I would like to witness everything that’s going on. Next time he comes out and tries to touch you, I will be able to see it from my phone and confront him.” He then reached for his water and took a self righteous sip before muttering under his breath, “That is if the sage didn’t kick him out already.”

“Man of the house?!” You echoed incredulously. “You call twirling around with some burning twigs and yelling at a harmless ghost being the man of the house?”

“He’s not harmless! Why are you so convinced that it’s just a casper that we’re dealing with?!”

You opened your mouth to retort, but snapped it shut when you realized you didn’t really have any reason to believe he wasn’t dangerous. So you just focused on the main glaring issue, “Nevermind that. I just don’t like how you made a big decision without telling me. Are we not equal in this relationship? It wasn’t even worth consulting me about?”

Taehyung didn’t say anything.

It would seem that he understood your point, but was stubbornly holding onto his just a tad more.

Appetite ruined, you stormed away in a display of vexation.

Not wanting to go to sleep beside him either, you stayed all night in your office and tried to just focus on editing the latest version of your draft.

Somewhere along the way, you managed to fall asleep on the keyboard.

You blearily awoke hours later to the sound of the door firmly shutting.

Groggily you sat up and twisted to see if anyone else was in the room with you, all the while rubbing off the key imprints on your cheek and leftover drool.

No one was there.

When you turned your attention back to the desk, you softly gasped in surprise.

A plate of grilled cheese sat there, still hot.

Alongside it was a steaming mug of hot chocolate.

One sip and you instantly recognized the ginger-cinnamon.

It wasn’t your boyfriend who left this.

The sage didn’t work.

–

Ralph was a man of about fifty years of age.

Tall, lumbering, calloused and not necessarily easy on the eyes, he shifted awkwardly at the entrance of your delicate farmhouse as Taehyung listed off the places in the home that he’d like covered.

Ralph was to set up the cameras while you and your boyfriend went out for a quick errand.

The gallery showing was tomorrow, and so was the little afterparty that you had arranged to take place. You did so without really realizing all that you would need for hosting. The guest list was an intimate circle of seven, but given you and Taehyung were running out of groceries for even just the two of you, you figured a trip to the market was needed to properly prepare.

You rolled your eyes and waited for your boyfriend to finish his little pep talk, sighing in relief when Ralph was finally free to disappear into the living room with his bag of tools.

“Ready?” You asked Taehyung, not really waiting for an answer as you stomped past him and out the door.

He followed you wordlessly to the car.

The ride into town was stiff and awkward, neither one of you saying anything and music not even playing in the background as Taehyung drove.

You both were still angry at each other.

Well, more like you were angry at him and he was correctly trying to not poke the bear by instigating useless chatter.

The cameras were overkill in your opinion and a giant waste of money. You both were artists, which means a severe lack of steady income. You needed to be smart with what you threw cash at because no one knew if your next book or his next painting would even sell. Nothing was ever guaranteed.

You felt for him that his gift was wrecked, but you weren’t lying when you said that the thought was all that really mattered to you. You genuinely didn’t care either way, it would’ve been nice to have the painting, but it was just as nice to know that he was painting one for you.

If you were a betting woman, you would bet that this was more about Taehyung’s unfounded jealousy than anything else. Usually you would find harmless jealousy kind of attractive, but not when it went into installing cameras into your home at the “low” price of a couple hundred dollars.

You thought of this in a quiet rage as Taehyung pulled into the grocery store.

He parked, you both got out and walked inside before grabbing a cart.

“Let’s split up.” You said, your tone leaving no room for argument.

“Fine. What do you want me to get?”

“Get the drinks. They’re mainly your friends so you’d know what they’d like more than me. I’ll get some stuff for a charcuterie board.” You ordered, just wanting to get back home as soon as possible

He nodded and swiftly went over to the alcohol section as you made way into the food aisles.

You were looking at the different types of crackers and wondering what the fuck the difference was when a sudden call of your name took your attention.

“Y/n?”

The voice was light and airy, tone warm and nostalgic to the ears.

No way.

It can’t be…

You swirled around to face the owner, nearly choking on your spit when you realized your suspicions were correct.

Park Jimin was as gorgeous as ever. The cherub face was just as you recalled, somehow both ruggedly handsome and softly docile. His eyes crinkled behind a pearly smile, a small hand coming up to swiftly brush through his dyed blonde hair as he approached you.

“I thought that was you.” He chuckled. “How have you been? It’s been so long.”

You managed a wry smile.

Jimin was once your college boyfriend of one year, five months, and eight days.

But hey, who was counting?

“I’m doing okay.” You choked out, not liking how he quickly frowned at your strained tone. If there was one man you could never lie to, it was Jimin. “How about yourself? Did you open up that studio you always wanted?”

The truth was you knew he did. Before meeting and dating Taehyung, you were guilty of occasionally checking his social media. It simply couldn’t be helped. Jimin was the longest relationship you ever had. The first man you ever really loved. And your first ever heartbreak.

“Um, yeah I did! I heard you published your first book last year. I bought a few copies myself…” he trailed off sheepishly, suddenly avoiding eye contact. “It uh, was really well written. Are you um, working on anything now?”

You bit your lip, not sure how you felt about the man you were once wildly in love with reading your novel after years of not talking. Much less buying more than one copy to support you. “Y-Yes I’m writing my second book.”

He nodded, a proud expression on his face as he pursed his lips in thought.

“I’m sorry this is…weird.” He finally huffed. “I really didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

You sighed with some relief, thankful he felt the same way. “Same. After you said you wanted to date other people I really didn’t expect to say another word to you like, ever.”

Jimin laughed, “Haha, what? Your memory continues to suck, Y/n. If anything it was you who ghosted-”

“Y/n.”

A much deeper voice cut through the air, bringing all the attention to a new figure descending upon the scene.

Taehyung strode up from behind you, placing an arm around you and regarding the other man with a brooding look of regard.

“Whose this?” Your boyfriend asked, purposefully deepening his already deep voice.

You inwardly rolled your eyes, noting how the artist was practically puffing his chest and glowering at the much shorter man.

“Taehyung, this is my old friend Jimin. Jimin, this is my boyfriend Taehyung.”

The two stiffly nodded at each other, you dodging the questioning look Jimin secretly shot at you for being described as ‘an old friend’.

A pregnant pause hung in the air.

“So…how long have you two been together?”

Before either you or your boyfriend could answer, a pretty lady suddenly skipped into the aisle and grasped onto Jimin’s arm.

“Babe, I can’t find the oat milk! I thought you said- Oh hello!” She just now noticed you and Taehyung, smiling politely and not-so-subtly nudging at Jimin to introduce her.

“Oh, um, this is Molly.”

“His girlfriend! And you two are?”

“I’m Y/n and this is my boyfriend Taehyung.” You introduced. “Jimin and I went to school together.”

“Really? I never get to meet any of Jimin’s old friends! We should have a double date or something!” Molly was an over the top girl, your ears almost ringing at the volume she exuded. But she seemed nice, so you smiled warmly at her and vaguely agreed.

Another brief, awkward and only slightly painful silence.

“Actually…” You trailed off in thought, an idea forming in your head but you didn’t know if it was a good one. Yet it was too late. Before you could even backtrack, all three sets of eyes were on you, eagerly waiting for you to finish the thought. “…what are you two doing tomorrow night?”

“Was just gonna drag Jiminnie to see this new movie! We can totally blow it off though!”

“Well, my boyfriend is a really talented artist and he has a showing tomorrow night. We’d love it if you two could make it.”

You felt Taehyung stiffen beside you, but you paid it no mind.

From what you understood about showings the more people, the more eyes, the better. It was harmless, wasn’t it? Jimin bought multiple copies of your book, and you’d invite him to a gallery showing to please his over hyper girlfriend.

Even, right?

Molly beamed, asking for your number to exchange the details.

You did so, pretending not to notice how both Jimin and Taehyung bore their stares into you.

When finished, you waved goodbye to the couple as they made their way to the dairy section. You and Taehyung then continued your own shopping in a rushed manner- your boyfriend grumbling about having to get back in time for the cameras.

The ride home was a bit more talkative, with Taehyung asking how you knew of Jimin and what made you two friends. You answered the questions rather honestly, just leaving out the parts about how your friendship blossomed into something more.

You weren’t exactly trying to be deceitful. It was just that he was under a lot of stress and paranoia the last few days, you didn’t want to push his poor nerves any further. If he was willing to set up a bunch of cameras to keep some ghost away from you, you didn’t want to push your luck by mentioning that Jimin was your ex boyfriend and longest relationship.

Besides, it wasn’t like Jimin was any kind of threat. You would never entertain the idea of going back to the guy who dumped you. He also now had Molly, so clearly you both moved on.

Taehyung pulled the car into the driveway, asking if you could handle the few bags as he went in to talk to Ralph and sort out the last few steps of installation. You agreed, watching him jog into the home as you gathered all the groceries and took your time to get inside.

You beelined straight to the kitchen with the newly bought food, raising your brows when you saw Taehyung staring at something intently on the counter.

“What is it?”

Taehyung didn’t answer.

You walked up behind him and stood on your tippy toes to spot over his shoulder what he was looking at.

It was a note, in messy and hurried handwriting.

“Sorry but the cameras could not have been installed. It won’t work here. -Ralph.”

–

If there was any man on top of the world tonight- his name was Kim Taehyung.

The Bauhaus gallery was swarmed with countless people, all clamoring to gaze upon the latest Kim collection and ponder the intricate meanings behind each piece. They wore luxury clothes and drank fancy wine that you couldn’t even pronounce, their tax bracket clearly a couple pegs above yours. There was of course some idle chatter, almost every corner of the building being filled with some pretentious snob rambling about the brush strokes, artistic style and commentary your boyfriend was allegedly trying to make with his art.

Such a crowd was not something you were accustomed to.

Thus you clung to Lisa, both idly sipping at wine and watching your boyfriend from afar as he charmingly answered questions.

“You know, he’s going to make thousands of dollars tonight.” Lisa thought out loud. “These rich types will outbid each other like crazy.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. You were happy for him, and knew he deserved it but you would be lying if you said he wasn’t in the doghouse.

“Still mad huh?” Lisa correctly assumed, reading your expression. “What happened after the camera dude disappeared?”

“Taehyung was really upset and called the company to demand his money back. They refunded him entirely, apologized and even sent someone to get the company van. I guess the Ralph dude was an alcoholic and everyone just kinda accepts that he skipped town.” You explained. “I tried to calm him down but he sorta snapped at me about how I never even wanted the cameras so I was probably just loving it all.”

Lisa lowly whistled, “Damn. Well, he probably snapped about the cameras but I promise you it wasn’t just about that.”

“What do you mean?”

“You invited your ex to his showing.” Lisa lectured, as if you were a child who didn’t even understand what you did wrong.

You stuttered, “B-But he doesn’t know Jimin is an ex! I told him he was just an old friend.”

She rolled her eyes, “Y/n of course he would see right through that. There's always going to be chemistry between Jimin and you, he probably picked up on it and is aware you’re not telling the complete truth about what you two were.”

“He’s just overly jealous. He wants to fight our ghost too. At this point, every man is a threat to him.”

At the mention of your ghost, Lisa’s eyes practically sparkled. “Oh I can’t wait to go back to your place! I want to feel the haunted energy for myself.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, “It’s just like any other home, Lisa.”

“That’s because you don’t have a psychic sense to save your life, Y/n.”

You didn’t know whether or not to be offended by that, so you decided to distract yourself by scanning the room for your boyfriend’s invited friends.

Kim Namjoon was an old boss of Taehyung that remained good friends with the artist even after he dumped his job to take up painting full time. Currently, he and his wife Jennifer were talking rather seriously to a thin-lipped curator, most likely about purchasing one of the artworks displayed.

Right across from where you and Lisa stood, Taehyung was conversing with his former coworkers; Jin and Hoseok. They appeared to be laughing about something, their lightheartedness standing out in the overly serious room of people.

If you craned your neck a little to the left, you could spot Yoongi and Jungkook hiding in a corner away from everyone else, almost perfectly mimicking you and your close friend. They both nursed their drinks quietly, occasionally sharing words but mainly just waiting out this event.

You always kind of thought that Lisa and Jungkook would make a good pairing if properly introduced and pushed. So you turned to your friend and was just about to suggest you guys walk over, when she made a face at something behind you.

“Uh oh, here comes the ex.” She mumbled.

You turned around to indeed see Jimin and Molly approaching.

Jimin wore a suit, dress shirt unbuttoned at the top to reveal some of his sun kissed chest. His blonde hair was properly done this time, brushed to the side and back to fully expose his forehead. He raised a hand and waved, rings catching the light and nearly blinding you in the process.

Beside him, Molly looked as pretty as ever in a blue sweetheart dress that complimented her figure. Yet, she looked rather irritated. She attempted to give you a smile in greeting, but it looked more like a grimace.

Jimin spoke first, “Hey, I’m so sorry we’re late. I’m hoping we didn’t miss too much?”

You wanted to be annoyed but without meaning to, a giggle escaped you.

“Things really don’t change.” You told Jimin, a knowing look simmering in your eyes. While dating, you guys were often the couple that showed up late to any event. Most people assumed that it was your doing because you were the girl, when in all actuality it was Jimin.

Jimin shamelessly grinned, “I’ve gotten better, I swear.”

You didn’t believe it for a second and he knew it.

You both shared a laugh, staring at each other fondly like old friends reliving the old times.

It was hard to believe that you were joking with the man you once thought you’d never get over or forgive. Countless nights were spent eating your feelings, hysterically crying and obsessing over all the videos or pictures you couldn’t bring yourself to delete.

But there are some people in life that as soon as they come back, it’s like they never left.

And it was almost as if Jimin never left.

You two continued to gaze into each other, lost in your own comfortable bubble when a sudden throat clearing broke the haze.

“Um, actually the showing is almost over.” Lisa informed, her and Molly visibly looking left out of the nostalgia.

Your ex had the decency to look guilty. “Oh no! I’m so sorry! Maybe we can all just get drinks? There’s a nice bar two blocks down. I can buy a round for everyone?”

“That’s sweet but we have a little after party planned back at my place. I live kind of out of town though, so it’s okay if you can’t make it.”

“No! We can make it! What's the address?” Jimin seemed eager.

You told him, him pulling out his phone to save it into his gps system.

Molly was silent all this time, which was kind of worrying as your first meeting with her led you to believe she was the bubbly type. Now that you mentioned it, it looked like she was avoiding looking at either you or her boyfriend, focusing on a spot on the wall somewhere behind you.

You opened your mouth to maybe ask if she was alright, but quickly shut it when you realized that could be overstepping some boundary.

Fortunately, Lisa seemed to have enough of this entire interaction and grabbed your arm while saying, “Me and Y/n were just going to go to the restroom! Please take a good look around and enjoy her boyfriend’s work! See you guys at the after party!”

Your friend then swiftly dragged you away, barely leaving you enough time to smile apologetically at the couple.

When you both entered the restroom, Lisa simply marched up to the sink and began fixing invisible smudges in her makeup as you shifted awkwardly beside her.

“So…” She started, looking you up and down in the mirror. “Please tell me you know Jimin is still in love with you.”

“W-What?! No way!” You spluttered.

“Y/n it’s so obvious. I actually felt bad for his girlfriend. He couldn’t take his eyes off you.” She rolled her eyes, almost disappointed in your lack of awareness.

“It’s just been forever. It’s hard to not hyperfocus on eachother, we’ve both changed so much. Also, why would the guy who dumped me out of nowhere still be in love with me?”

She released a deep sigh, “He knows he made the shittiest mistake of his life and is now regretting it when seeing you and your talented boyfriend doing so well.”

You chuckled at the thought of someone looking at your relationship and being jealous.

“Listen, just remember tonight is Taehyung’s night and fighting or not, he’s still a wonderful boyfriend overall. And Jimin is your ex who broke your heart. Inviting him to your place after this might’ve been too much. I suggest you keep your distance.”

“Lisa, thanks for the advice but I honestly was just being friendly. He seemed sorry that he missed most of the showing. Besides, I’m going to be too busy hosting to have a deep heart to heart with him or anything.” You explained, a little offended that she thought you were going to play part in some dramatic reconciliation.

A sudden announcement echoed outside the restroom doors, your ears straining to hear a gallery worker asking everyone to gather on the main floor for the artist’s speech and thus the final part of the night.

Saying nothing more, Lisa and you made your exit to join the audience.

– The clock was nearing midnight.

Your usually quiet farmhouse of a home was not at all quiet.

Your boyfriend's friends were merrily talking and drinking, once in a while their masculine laughs would sync up and reverberate through the halls. They all conversed and lounged in the living room, the largest part of the house that could fit all of them comfortably. Yet, you and Lisa stayed in the kitchen, making the drinks and finger foods, as you indulged in harmless girl talk.

“The one with tattoos is so hot, Y/n. Please tell me he’s single!”

“Jungkook? I’m pretty sure he is. Taehyung told me that Namjoon is the only other one in the friend group that’s in a relationship.”

“Okay, so far so good.” She paused to pop a stuffed mushroom in her mouth, humming in thought. “What’s his type though? Like, would I have to make the first move? Does he like a straightforward girl? Because he hasn’t so much as looked at me tonight.”

“I’ve only met Taehyung’s friends once before so I don’t know their types or anything. I do think Jungkook looks a lot manlier than he actually is. He’s very kind but shy so you’ll have to talk to him first.” You explained while opening another bottle of wine for the two of you.

Lisa frowned at the thought, not used to being the one that had to chase.

You poured two glasses, handing her one with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, I can introduce you two. It’s kind of a good thing he’s avoiding you like the plague, Tae once said he only acts like that with pretty girls.”

Your friend lit up like the fourth of july.

“Hey babe!” A familiar deep voice called out.

You looked around to see your boyfriend stepping into the kitchen, a buzzed smile on his face and a slightly glazed film over his eyes.

Moments like these made you realize how much of a lightweight your boyfriend was. It only took one or two drinks for him to get tipsy. But it was still his night and he was already home amongst loved ones, so all you could do is smile endearingly at his slightly intoxicated self.

“Yes, handsome?”

His boxy grin grew, “The boys want more beer.”

“Already?! I put out a twelve pack! People need to be able to drive home, ya know!”

He laughed, “Baby, my friends can drink a gallon each and still be able to drive home with their eyes closed if need be.”

“Well I don’t have any more beer up here. Just wine. There might be some more in the basement, though.”

He nodded in thanks, turning his back to presumably go to the basement and retrieve the drinks.

Lisa waited for him to get fully out of earshot before leaning over and dramatically whispering, “How is Jimin and that Molly girl doing?”

You shrugged, “Last time I was in there, Hoseok was making conversation with Jimin and Molly was all over Yoongi.”

“Damn, trouble in paradise?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t seem too bothered and she seemed a little drunk. She might just get overly friendly when she drinks.”

“And you’re still convinced that he’s over you?”

You rolled your eyes but ultimately stayed silent, aware that the couple was acting sorta strange but also not so sure that you were the cause. You took your wine in one hand and a plate of appetizers in the other, motioning for Lisa to grab the rest and follow you.

When you both entered the living room, you were thrilled to spot Jungkook sitting alone on one of the loveseats. You quickly set the food down and pulled Lisa along with you, approaching him with a friendly smile meant to put him at ease. Considering the way his eyes widened at the sight of your friend, you didn’t know how successful you were.

“Hey Jungkook, it’s been a while!” You greeted.

“Y-Yeah it has been. How’s your erm, book going?”

“It’s doing okay, thanks for asking. Have you met my friend, Lisa?”

He briefly scanned your friend, nervously gulping before saying quietly, “…No I haven't.”

“Oh well, Lisa was just saying how much she liked your tattoos.” You nudged her, prompting her to say something.

She just nodded in agreement, suddenly meek.

He blushed, “Thank you.”

“Actually, Lisa, weren't you saying that you were thinking of getting a tattoo?” You pretended to think out loud, as if you weren’t outright playing them. You didn’t wait for her to answer the rhetorical question, “Jungkook, don’t you do tattoos now?”

Now on a topic of interest he was for sure confident in, Jungkook practically jumped in his seat, “Yeah! I do! I’ve only tatted myself and some friends but I hope to work on more people.”

You watched with a smirk as Lisa moved to sit next to Jungkook, her now explaining what she’d like done and Jungkook asking questions about placement, size and color.

You felt sure enough in them to leave them alone, now inhabiting your little corner as you finished your wine while taking in the scene.

Yoongi and Molly stood by the window, and were obviously the most inebriated. He was the type to ramble pointlessly when tipsy, and she giggled at every little thing he said, playfully shoving his shoulder once in a while. You knew for a fact that Yoongi was too deep in his own self-epiphanes to notice her bad flirting, either that or he was just trying to talk to anyone who was willing to listen.

Namjoon and Jennifer were sitting on the couch and talking to Jin, laughing at whatever odd impression he was attempting. Beside them on the loveseat, Hoseok was politely nodding along to small talk from Jimin. Being one of the friendliest and most calming of the group, it made sense that Hoseok was the one trying to make your ex boyfriend feel included.

Content to just watch your guests for a while, you stood by your lonesome and slowly sipped at the remnants of your wine.

Playing host wasn’t exactly your forte, so you were enjoying the little lull while it lasted. Unlike your boyfriend, your social battery tended to max out at the two-hour mark when in group settings.

And as much as you loved the people in your home (with maybe the exception of your ex and his girlfriend), you couldn’t wait for them to get out so you could take a long, hot shower and head to bed.

The stress of the last few days was really tiring you, and you just knew that as soon as the excitement of the showing and sold paintings wore off, Taehyung was going to continue his spat with you about the cameras.

When you and Jimin dated, you two were always on the same page. Fights very rarely happened. And Jimin was such a people pleaser that if literally anything slightly upset you, he would practically fall over himself to make you smile again.

Taehyung was the first boyfriend to genuinely pick a fight with you, being more stubborn than you about matters you didn’t necessarily want to back down from either. Your relationship conflict resolution skills were being tested, and you just didn’t have the patience or experience to keep fighting much longer. You would call a truce or some type of compromise, if it weren’t for the fact that there was no way to really keep both of you happy.

A few minutes passed as you pondered this to yourself.

Seemingly materializing out of nowhere, a mysterious arm wrapped around your waist.

The suddenness of it all caused you to jump and release a very unflattering squeak.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

A deep chuckle rumbled beside you, Taehyung smirking lazily before diving face first into your neck and nuzzling it in some sort of drunken stupor.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” You groaned, trying to forcefully shove his face away from you. “Where’s the beer you went to fetch?”

Your boyfriend expertly dodged your shove and dove back into your neck, mumbling against the skin something about not being able to find more drinks.

The vibration of his lips on such a sensitive spot made you want to squirm, but his halfhearted mumbles took your attention a bit more.

“No beer? I could’ve sworn-”

“Hey Y/n!” Someone interrupted with a call across the room. You looked up to see Lisa trudging over with a determined look on her face and a fogged up look in her eyes, perhaps a bit more tipsy than you remember leaving her. “Aren’t you going to show me where exactly you saw the ghost?”

Your dear friend most likely thought she was being discreet and having a normal conversation at a perfectly appropriate tone. But no, she was actually speaking way above a conversational volume, causing everyone else in the room to halt their conversations and turn to look at you.

“Ghost?” Jin laughed.

“You saw something in this room?” Hoseok inquired with a trembling voice, most likely regretting having come over. Beside him, Jimin quietly shook his head to himself.

“No way, Y/n doesn’t believe in stuff like that.” Your ex confidently informed the group.

At the sound of your past lover’s voice, you felt Taehyung stiffen beside you. The artist untangled himself from you, standing to his full height and facing the guest with an unknown expression.

“We had a little bit of a ghost problem, but it’s taken care of now.” He paused, and you could nearly hear his smirk when he went on to declare, “I got rid of it.”

Yoongi laughed boisterously, having to hold himself up with the wall to prevent falling over. “I’m sorry, but the image of little Tae boxing a little sheet with two holes for eyes is really sending me.”

Half your guests laughed at the thought. The other more believing half still stared at you inquisitively.

An awkward silence.

“Ghosts are real.” Jennifer started, effortlessly drawing all eyes to her. “I used to live in a haunted house when I was a kid.”

She put her drink down and folded her hands across her lap, suddenly immersed in thought and careful about what she was about to share.

“In my childhood home, there was a garden in the backyard. Almost everyday, at sunset, I’d look out the window and see this lady circling the flowers and humming to herself. After ten minutes or so, she would disappear into thin air. I told my parents but they never believed me.”

She paused, either for dramatic effect or to recollect.

“Until one day, my mom saw her too. And when she went out to confront what she thought was an intruder, the lady disappeared before her eyes. My mom then did some digging about the history of the house and it turns out, the previous owner was outside gardening when she had a heart attack and died.”

A pregnant pause hung in the air as everyone silently digested the anecdote.

“That’s fucking terrifying, please tell me your parents moved houses after that.” Hoseok broke the silence first, pleading with watery eyes.

Namjoon’s wife laughed, reaching for her drink once more. “How is it scary? The lady was just checking on her garden in the afterlife. However, I then grew up really interested in supernatural stuff.” She turned to you. “There’s some tell-tale signs that a home has a spirit attached to it. Cold spots, shadow figures, whispers, scary dreams and the biggest of all: always feeling like you're being watched, even if there’s no one else in the room.”

You quietly thought to yourself. Were there any cold spots in the home? No. Any shadow figures? Nope. Whispers and nightmares? Nada.

But…the last one, being watched when no one is there.

If you really focused on your intuition, you faintly felt that even now amongst all these people, you were being watched by something unknown.

Goosebumps raised on the surface of your arms.

Chills ran down your spine and you shivered, the reaction causing Taehyung to grasp you tighter against him in what was supposed to be comfort.

You felt even more cold.

“We haven’t had any of that. Really guys, it’s taken care of.” Your boyfriend told the room, effectively shutting down the paranormal subject.

You assumed Taehyung felt a bit defensive of his ghost expelling skills, either that or he genuinely wanted another topic of discussion.

You then felt a little bad, it was still his night after all and here you were unintentionally ruining it with your little ghost stories. The focus of the room should be on him and his achievements, not everyone's supernatural beliefs and stories.

“Taehyung is right, it’s all resolved. But I’d like to ask all of you to fill up your glasses one last time, and raise them with me, ” While they did that you quickly scanned the room, “Um, except maybe you, Yoongi. Feel free to sit this one out, bud.” You laughed as the drunk man just grumbled at you, defiantly snatching another beer and holding it high while swaying on his feet.

Hopefully he wasn’t the one driving home.

You cleared your throat, “I'd like to propose a toast to our own Taehyung. Everyone in this room knows it was only a matter of time before your artistic genius was recognized by the world, but that doesn’t make us any less proud than we are of you tonight. To the first of many showings! To Taehyung!”

“To Taehyung!” the room loudly parroted back, everyone thrusting their drinks of choice in the air before knocking them back.

The artist beside you laughed and shook his head, “Really, guys it’s no big deal. Just a few paintings that I’m lucky even got sold. But thanks so much for making it. Most of you-” he snapped a side eye where Jimin sat, “have supported me so much, I’m just happy to have such a great group of friends.”

Said friends all smiled and nodded, although a few caught on to Taehyung’s subliminal dig and warily looked over at your ex.

Jimin pursed a tight smile, clearly trying to be nice and not make it obvious that he was the outsider at the party. You caught his eye and shot him a sorry look, but he shook his head in what was clearly meant to say “don’t worry about it.”

Your boyfriend continued, “However! ‘Friends’ don’t really beat ‘love of my life’. So without getting into all the lewd details of how I plan to spend my night celebrating, I’m going to need you all to start clearing out,” Taehyung smirked. “Y/n is a screamer.”

“Ew!” Lisa shouted, beside her Jungkook was suddenly unable to make eye contact with you.

The older men in the room just cackled. You slapped the artist's chest while trying to hide your blood red face.

Taehyung ducked and mouthed at your ear to whisper, “Sorry baby, but you know it’s true. And don’t act like you don’t want them out sooner rather than later.”

You wanted to be mad, but understood he was tipsy and riding on the high of his showing. So instead you played along and harshly whispered to him, “I doubt you can make me scream tonight. It’s not right to be misleading to your friends.”

He tiled your head to make you face him.

Taehyungs’ left brow twitched in vexation, his lips pulling back in a little growl. He looked around to make sure the guests were distracted with finishing their drinks or saying their goodbyes to each other. When he confirmed no eyes were on you two, he secretly placed his hand at the back of your head, running his long fingers through your hair and stopping right at the ends, to quickly form a fist and pull.

It was just one short tug, but the power of it made you gasp.

You would be lying if you said it didn’t make you a little wet too.

You had no idea where this came from. He never pulled your hair. Your boyfriend wasn’t rough and was one of those really progressive artists types that viewed any kind of manhandling in the bedroom as sort of sexist. But when you peered up at him, with the doe eyes he said he loved so much, and saw the clouded nature of his gaze, you just knew that inebriated Tae was very different from sober Tae.

Black and white, really.

‘I’m in for quite the night’ you thought to yourself while biting your lip, inwardly smug at how Taehyung transparently honed in on the action.

“Um, hey I think I’ll take my leave first.” You looked up to see Jimin awkwardly shifting in front of you two, a blacked out Molly in his hold.

“Oh god! Is she okay?” You exclaimed, noting the poor girl looked dead.

The dancer chuckled, “Yeah, she just gets really hyper when she's drunk then passes out after a bit. Ironically, sleep is all she needs I guess since she always wakes up good as new. No hangover.”

“Here let me show you out. I can help put her in the car.” You offered, already detangling yourself from Taehyung. He made a small sound of protest and made move to hold you tighter.

You placed a hand on his shoulder and consoled him with a smile, “You wanted people to leave, so we should help everyone get home safe. Can you check on Yoongi and maybe see if Namjoon and Jennifer can take him home?”

He looked conflicted, carefully sizing Jimin up through his peripheral. You wanted to roll your eyes. Although tipsy Taehyung was apparently a sexy beast, he was also an immature toddler who needed to be tricked.

You got on your tippy toes to whisper in his ear, “The quicker we get people out, the quicker you get me all to yourself.”

That seemed to convince him as he reluctantly stomped away in the direction of the couple, shooting one more guarded look at the dancer.

With that you led Jimin to the front door, even helping him put Molly’s heels back on before stepping out into the driveway and walking him to his car.

Silently, he opened the car and laid her in the backseat, tucking her in with his jacket. Then he shut the door, but instead of walking around to the driver spot, he turned to you and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

“So….”

“Look, I’m sorry about Taehyung. I didn’t even tell him you were an ex but he’s just been really possessive and weird lately. It’s not just you.” You informed him, hoping to make him feel better.

Jimin just waved it off with a chuckle, “No, I get it. You’re really gorgeous, kind and talented. I also struggled with jealousy when we were together. Can’t really blame him.”

You hoped your blush wasn’t too prominent as you said, “Yeah, but you were always nice to people regardless of feeling possessive. He was just rude. Again, I’m sorry.”

“Well, you can’t really date someone breathtaking if you’re going to be an insecure prick about it.”

You gaped like a fish at the implication you were still breathtaking in Jimin’s eyes. Words were suddenly hard to come by.

It was silent for a moment, the tension between you two as thick as it can possibly get for two past lovers.

“Y/n…why didn’t you tell him we dated?”

“L-Like I said, he’s already been acting jealous and I didn’t want him to focus on that when it was his night. Besides, It’s not like-”

“I broke up with Molly.”

“…What?”

“It happened on the way to your after party, she was upset that I still held a candle for you. And yeah, I couldn’t drag her along when I never felt half of what I felt for you, for her. I just said it without thinking, terrible timing of course. But that’s pretty on brand for me, I suppose.” He attempted a joke.

You smiled politely, although you had no idea how you should feel.

He continued, “I just thought I should say sorry because the reason she was such a drunk and sloppy mess in your home was because I carelessly dumped her on the way there.”

“It’s um, okay Jimin. She wasn’t the only drunken mess tonight. I hope you two manage to stay friends.” You said, then after a beat added, “And that you find what you’re looking for.”

“Listen, I know you're with Taehyung and happy but, I think there was some kind of misunderstanding about our breakup. I’m not trying to be a homewrecker or anything, but can we get a coffee sometime and just…talk?”

You smiled, finding no harm in the offer. “Sure-”

“No.”

You gasped and whipped around to see Taehyung standing behind you, arms crossed and hell in his eyes as he glowered down at Jimin.

How did he get there without being spotted or heard?

It's like he fabricated out of nowhere.

“I suggest you get in your car, leave and never speak to her again.”

Your ex held his hands up in surrender, “Look man, I wasn’t trying anything-”

“What kind of guy goes to their ex when she’s clearly in a happy and healthy relationship, and tries to drudge up the past in the name of closure? Fuck your closure. You lost her, and now I have her. And trust me, she has better things to do than getting coffee with the guy who broke her heart.”

“Please, Taehyung-”

You were cut off.

His voice was the lowest you’ve ever heard it, eyes pitch black and face blank as he calmly finished, “It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. And if I see you again I’m going to break your kneecaps and skin you alive, you little spineless boy. Run along now. While you still can.”

The threats were so visceral and promising, coupled with a man who looked downright murderous yet somehow calm. As if he had done it before and doing it again would be more so an inconvenience than a whole life-ending ordeal.

In this moment, you didn’t know your own boyfriend and you were terrified with this new persona.

No one moved or spoke, in fear one step or word would make Taehyung good on his promise.

You and Jimin were paralyzed, like two helpless deer in the presence of a blood thirsty wolf, the only hope was to stay still and go unnoticed. You met your ex’s eyes and while he did look afraid, he was focused only on you and your proximity to Taehyung.

Jimin was fearful. Not for himself, but for you.

And while you wanted your ex to run away, you were also scared to be left alone with someone so different from your usual Taehyung.

How could a few drinks and some jealousy cause such a behavior?

“Hey what’s going on here?”

Namjoon and Jennifer were babysitting a toddling Yoongi, the couple was also making way to their vehicle when they spotted the scene. The so-called ‘leader’ of the gang was quick to pick up on Taehyung’s aggressive stance, probably prompting him to get involved.

You felt your body lighten in relief.

Namjoon was always good at calming people down and taking control of situations.

Like a switch was turned on, your boyfriend grinned at the oncomers and nodded over at the dancer. Seemingly happy as a clam he chirped, “Nothing, hyung! Jimin here was just leaving. His poor girlfriend had too much, I think.”

Namjoon didn’t quite believe that, you and Jimin still looked rigid with alarm after all. Nonetheless, he played along for everyone’s sake. “Really? Maybe you should leave now then Jimin, get her in bed as soon as possible. It was nice meeting you.”

Jimin took the hint with grace and wordlessly ducked into his car, not acknowledging anyone else as he mouthed to you “call me”.

He started up the car, then slowly backed out of the driveway, and eventually down the road.

“Dude, are you sure you’re okay? It looked like you wanted to kill him.” Namjoon asked the artist.

Before hearing whatever bullshit was going to spew out of his mouth next, you promptly whipped around and stormed back into the house, making sure to purposefully shoulder-check your boyfriend as hard as you could in the process.

What the fuck was wrong with the bastard?!

Talking as though he was some offender or even a murder, just because your ex wanted to catch up?

You were so dreadfully embarrassed! Jimin must’ve thought you lost your mind after him and went off to date some real weirdos.

If you weren’t already on a lease with the man, this probably would’ve been the part where you blocked him and made it your personal mission to never see him again.

Instead, you busied yourself in the kitchen and washed most of the dirty dishes your guests left behind. You hoped Taehyung was wise enough to leave you alone, if the jerk knew what was good for him.

About 15 minutes had passed, and the kitchen was nearly as spotless as it was before the party had started, thanks to your furious cleaning and scrubbing. The house was now silent, and you were just debating putting all your spices in alphabetical order when you heard a shuffle behind you.

You snapped around and instantly scoffed at the sight.

Taehyung was leaning against the doorframe, hands in his pockets and fixing a sheepish look at you.

“So…that got a little out of hand.”

You barked a disbelieving laugh. “More like you got out of hand, Taehyung. Threatening people like you’re some felon! Wouldn't be a surprise if there’s a rumor spreading about me dating a serial killer now."

“Y/n, I’m sorry. But please let me make it up to you.”

“Make it up to me? Your actions cannot be undone Taehyung! I cooked and cleaned after your friends and tried to make this night special for you. I just wanted you to have a nice night and be nice, and you flip out over a platonic coffee date? Who do you think I am? A slut who will open her legs to any ex who talks to me?!”

“W-what? No- Of course not! Please don’t think-”

“What the hell am I supposed to think, asshole?! Even if Jimin still had feelings for me, it would take me reciprocating them for anything to happen! You clearly don’t trust me, and if that’s the case, then what are we doing here? Should we just become roommates or something?”

A painful struck his face, watery eyes met yours when he choked out, “Do you even hear yourself? Why would I try to fight your ex if I truly didn’t love you? You’re mine, and I love you so much it’s just…I can act a little crazy sometimes.”

You sighed, turning your back on him to lean on the sink in exhaustion.

“I thought you were different from other guys, Tae. That caveman shit is extremely degrading to not only you, but especially me.”

“I’m sorry…it’s just a primal part of me that I can’t turn off. Give me a chance to make it up to you.”

You shot a look over your shoulder at him, still pissed.

He shot his hands up in the air, as if in defense. “You can still be mad at me all you want.”

“You’re sleeping on the couch for a week.”

“Done.”

“And….And you’re forgetting all about those stupid cameras.”

He quirked a grin, unknown mirth dancing in his eyes. “Sure.”

“At the end of the week, you will personally apologize to Jimin via a phone call or letter.”

His smile dropped, your glare sharpened, “Umm..fine okay. It won’t be sincere though.”

You rolled your eyes, “Doesn’t have to be, it’s the right thing to do so you’ll do it.”

“…anything else?”

“Not for now. I’m going to bed soon so if there’s anything you need from the room, get it now.”

He wordlessly turned around, and you then faintly heard him going up the stairs.

Biting your lip in deep thought, you proceed to wipe off the last of the counters.

Could you forgive him? When he was willing to do all that to appease you?

If you were being honest with yourself, you could feel the irritation already start to melt away a bit. You hadn’t expected such a 180 in his stance, he went from threatening Jimin with murder to begrudgingly agreeing to apologize within only a matter of half an hour or so. You thought you would have to at least give him the silent treatment for a bit before you could even bargain a “sorry” for your ex. Taehyung was usually much more stubborn…

Nonetheless though, you were still upset and embarrassed about the scene.

You hated when men got violent around you, it made you feel so unsafe and small. You thought Taehyung was different, him even poking fun at the meatheads who would pull stuff like that at the local bars you would frequent while dating. So what changed?

Footsteps slowly descended back down the stairs, telling you that Taehyung had returned from your bedroom and it was safe to go up.

You left the kitchen, turned off the lights and passed through the hallway. Briefly you stopped, just short of the stairs, to see your boyfriend grumbling to himself while arranging some blankets on the couch.

A sudden and chilling thought ripped from your lips before you could even quietly ponder it.

“Taehyung…how did you know Jimin was my ex?”

He stopped in his tracks, slowly turning to face you with a blank look.

“Uh, Lisa might have slipped up and told me.”

You relaxed, unknowingly releasing a breath you had been holding. “Hmm, okay. We’ll talk tomorrow then. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight baby.”

“Oh! Let me get some water first, can you check that the doors were locked?” You asked while skipping back towards the kitchen. You hated waking up with a dry mouth and always kept a glass of water on your nightstand, restless bathroom trips be damned.

You didn’t hear any response to your request, but you paid it no mind, assuming Tae probably already double, if not triple, checked the locks being the worrywart that he was.

Right next to the kitchen entrance was the basement door, and it was shut.

Yet, something stopped you in your tracks.

The light under the basement door…it was on?

“Well I don’t have any more beer up here. Just wine. There might be some more in the basement, though.”

It couldn’t be….could it?

Your intuition was hollering at you from within.

A force greater than you pulled you to the door handle.

Against yourself, you opened the door to the basement…

And choked back a horrified scream.

At the bottom of the stairs lay Taehyung.

Unconscious, pale and bleeding horrifically from some head wound that was forming an inky pool under his crumpled form.

It wasn’t your Taehyung that returned upstairs.

So...this has been sitting in my drafts for over a year lol. I do have a dramatic ending in mind and some final scenes but yea, I don't think I could finish this unless people actually wanted it so let me know if this is a plot you kinda liked? I never tried flat-out supernatural horror like this. Anyway, happy October guys! Love you all. Luna :)

[gnomewithalaptop]

I'm still too distracted to write so here have a list of YJ-cast centric fics that make me froth at the mouth

Kon-centric recs:

I Want It That Way (1990s Tim/Kon) by WynterSky / @wynterstars -- A revamped, 90s-style Superboy origin story with added Lex Luthor AND a lil bit of 90s Robin for spice and flavor. Honestly, this whole series is so elite -- goes hard with the Superboy mythos + angst PLUS the third fic leans hard into the secret identity shenanigans in a way that'd make Miraculous Ladybug jealous. The first fic splits its attention between Tim and Kon, but the latter two are solidly Kon-centric

one plus one (easy math) by connerdrakewayne / @comphetkoncass -- Cassandra Cain and Kon go to a gala together. I'm always a sucker for a good Cass + Kon friendship. This one's very short and sweet, and it gets the job done -- 10/10 would read again

a timeline can be a haunted house by connerdrakewayne -- post-universal reset Kon angst + terrible coping mechanisms! This one goes so hard I read it three times. Tbh this author has an excellent handle on Kon as a character in general, so I honestly recommend just checking out their whole fic stash

Tim-centric recs:

Top 10 Secret Identity Fails by @havendance -- Tim's new English teacher is his on-again-off-again superhero teamup Helena Bertinelli (aka the Huntress). This one's just fun, okay -- the whole thing reads like it could be straight out of Tim's 1993 solo run, plus I love the dynamic between him and Helena. Overall just a very cool vibe

only the dead stay 17 forever by Sky_Dust (couldn't find their tumblr sorry) -- Listen, I've really been restraining myself here, because I realize my love for time-travel bullshit is not universal, but I genuinely couldn't not include this one. This bad boy is a Tim-centric time-loop featuring a seriously unhinged Tim -- definitely a darker tone, but I can't stop rereading it

Bart-centric recs:

reflections on respawning: a gamer's uncertainty by merils / @mamawasatesttube -- Bart has a hard conversation about his death and subsequent resurrection (feat. Kon) man, I just vibe with this one so hard. It's such a thoughtful take on Bart's more contemplative side, while still managing to keep his personality intact

the backlash to the backlash to the thing that's just begun by @kermit-coded -- trans/gnc impulse my beloved <3 also we get some funky Max & Bart bonding, made much rawer and more real by the fact that it's the 90s and nobody knows what they're doing. Again, feels like it's straight out of Bart's solo series

Cassie-centric recs:

you and I, we are more than just this armor by @suzukiblu -- KonCassie bonding + gender feels. They're both so trans in this, and the author does a great job of really digging deep into their complicated feelings (both about gender and about each other)

(also PLEASE somebody give me more Cassie-centric fic recs I'm literally begging you)

Team recs

I'm all yours but you're all mine by suzukiblu -- Poly Core 4 Soulmates AU! Essentially, everybody gets their 'soulmark'/soulmate-identifier (not really, but the best word) right when Kon wakes up in his pod, and because Superboy hasn't really made his big splash yet, they misidentify their soulmate as Superman; this is an issue mainly because 1) they're all 14-15 and Superman is roughly 30-ish, and 2) by the time this fic takes place, Superman is pretty verifiably dead. Currently in-progress, but this is such an interesting and fun take on the usual soulmates trope. I pinky promise you won't regret reading it

Love, Not Loved series by @popsunner -- hoooomygod this series makes me cry literally every time I read it, it's genuinely one of the most realistic representations of grief I've seen on AO3. Basically explores the general fucked-up-edness of pretty much the whole YJ Core 4 Squad dying one by one, with each fic focusing on a different funeral (complete with survivor's guilt, regular guilt, and just plain old complicated feelings). We get Cassie feels, we get Tim feels, we get Bart + Kon feels -- it's the whole shebang. Don't worry -- there's a happy ending eventually, but you def gotta work for it. This series beat me up and stole my lunch money and I'd happily do it all over again

Lost the Last Piece of Me by InsaneTrollLogic / @last01standing -- YJ Core 4 Animorphs AU! I'm sad to say I've never read the original Animorphs series, but every single Animorphs AU I've ever read has been such high quality. Unsurprisingly (I love this author, okay), this fic is no exception to that rule. Solid alien-invasion plot, character driven, and the world-building is explained well enough that even a newbie like me can understand (feat. some TimKon, but it's not the main focus)

Ikonoclast by anantipodean (couldn't find a tumblr) -- Tim and Kon get sent to an alternate reality that's almost (but not quite) like their own. This one's just fun for me -- I love the TimBart buildup and the worldbuilding on the other Earth is a funky time. Also, the other universe's Tim is goth and absolutely cannot stand mainstream-reality Tim, and I find that extremely funny for some reason

[pr3ttyb0ym2g]

POSSESSIVE ꒰ADAM 𝘅 male! 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳꒱

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ;; Romantic. You're Adam's third lover, but you're not his wife, you're his husband. And you are definitely annoyed at Adam's snide remarks about you leaving him. Epilogue: COMFORT 𝘼/𝙉 ;; Sorry not so sorry, Adam is too fine and I'm going crazy for him, RABID actually. Def a lil cringe, but possessiveness + Adam was too good to pass up.

Maybe it was the way Adam suddenly gave you attitude, but you were pissed. Your infamous lover, was going on a tangent about Lucifer after his daughter had just met with Heaven. He went on and on about Lucifer and how anyone associated with him, his daughter along with Eve and Lilith, were "shit-fucks". But with his complaining about Lucifer, came the topics of his two stolen wives. Now, you weren't jealous per say, you understood Adam's attitude towards his past wives. But what you were mad about, was when Adam decided to run his mouth about you. "Can you believe it!? Eve, Lilith! I wouldn't be surprised if it was you, at this point. I swear when I catch that son of a— " You snapped. You grabbed the collar of his robe and pulled him close to you, face to helmet. Adam choked up on his words as he stared at you through his helmet, breathing heavily as his tangent was cut short. He saw how pissed you were, even when your face remained neutral, your eyes were glaring at him. He felt as though you were staring right through him. "Haha, sorry babe, did the truth hurt?" Adam forced out a snide remark while very apparently nervous. Your grip only tightened, and you uttered his name in a whisper. Your voice was low and you clearly weren't fucking around. First man or not, you don't take shit.

And Adam heard you loud and clear, he knew you were patient and he rarely ever saw you mad, but you were furious at him. Him of all things. "Sir, the Seraph—" Lute, one of Adam's closest exorcists, walked into the room. She was used to the man and often just stepped in, knocking only on occasions when she felt like it. Lute, knowing Adam, always expected him to be doing something vile or crude in his living quarters, but this was a different situation. Adam looked to be in a fight with you. She paused in her steps, taking in the unexpected sight. Your back was to her and she could clearly see Adam being in your grasp (literally). "Lute, get out." You didn't turn around, still staring intently at Adam, who took an unsteady breath. Adam prayed Lute had an emergency that would get him out of this situation. "There's a issue that needs to be—" "Lute, I said get out." You left her no room to argue. "I.. Yes sir. I'll notify the Head Seraphim." Lute never heard you ever ask her for something. You were humble and you never intercepted her relationship with Adam. So when you, for the first time ever, ordered her to get the fuck out, she did. It was out of character for Lute to just back down, but here was something she couldn't shake.

Lute is loyal to Adam, but she has a big sinking feeling he initiated whatever mood you're in now. "Shut the door on your way, please." The door was quickly shut. "Fuck [name], what if that was important?" He grabbed your wrist, trying to pull you off, but you didn't budge.

"We both know you wouldn't give a fuck if it was." Whilst Adam was somewhat cooperative with his boss, Sera, he was also very out of line. So much so that Sera has to often just appear and discipline him and Lute. And the man didn't care about anything that wasn't the extermination, one of his limited entertainments. "Adam, I want you to listen to me." He didn't respond. "Don't you ever spout anything like that again. Do you understand me? I am not a temporary lover, let alone a trophy to be displayed for your past mistakes. I agreed to marry you with every intent to stay with you, so I expect the same from you." Adam didn't say anything for a short moment and you both just stared at each other. "Okay."

[lustkillers]

okok hear me out: rough sex in a loud party where any character you want is pounding into reader, forcing them to be quiet until he cums all over her and forces her back into the party, putting her on display for everyone. just a thought, love you're writing !!

LOOSEN UP THEIR FROWN, MAKE 'EM FEEL ALIVE!

⊹₊ ⋆ summary. - you're only his.

┃ tags/warnings. ࿐ ❪ nsfw freak shit here! hard dom!euro, sub!reader unprotected sex, rough sex, impact play, public sex/exhibitionism?? , voyeurism?, slight asphyxiation, degradation, spit, jealous!euro, toxic (?) couple tbh, FACIALLLL!!! ❫

⊹₊ ⋆ pairing - euronymous x fem!reader ❪ not the actual euronymous, only rory’s portrayal. ❫

⊹₊ ⋆ note - IM BACKKK from my dreadful writers block!! i'm also bombarded with school work, i'm so sorry for being inactive on terms of writing!! thank u for the request & hopefully i did this request justice... i'm literally sick as shit and seeing stars!! as always, not proofread! requests are open!!

HOW did you end up here? Standing in the middle of a house party, your face covered in his cum. Others knew, some didn't. But you knew... You knew it all too well.

Øystein had been pissing you off recently, so you decided to take a night out on the town with your friends to blow off some steam. Plus, you knew Øystein would be busy and wouldn't bother you tonight, as he had other plans.

He'd always be deep into his music, making him insufferable sometimes. You wanted a night without his judgment, so you went to the house party, not telling him that you were leaving. 'It's not like he cares...' You thought.

The party was raging with people inside, strobe lights scattered along the house and the intense thumping of bass. You felt your body come alive with every beat, and soon you were dancing among everyone else.

Your friends had left you to talk to other guys, get drinks, and possibly fuck. That alone made you want to leave, but something about this party didn't allow you to. Everything around you was a blur, and other men had hands on your waist... But they weren't him.

Suddenly, you felt a new pair of hands around your waist. You looked back and saw Øystein standing there, his eyes smoldering with desire… But also anger and passion. He looked at you with an intensity that made your body tremble.

Your stomach bubbled with many emotions, and your head was like a wheel; spinning with what you should say to him at this moment.

“What are you doing here? I thought I told you to stay away from parties like this, but now here you are!” Øystein said incredulously.

You wanted to say something along the lines of how it wasn't his decision to make, but you couldn't take your eyes off him; he was still holding you close. Something in your head felt unscrewed, not responding well to his response. You should've been defending yourself... Not standing there with your eyes searching his.

“I-I…” You stuttered, unable to put together any sort of coherent response.

He only grabbed you, leading you away from the suffocating crowd you didn't even know was bothering you until this point. He kept a tight grip on you as he dragged you upstairs.

As soon as you reached the top, there was a hallway with 3 doors; 2 adjacent to each other, and one parallel to the 2 doors. He opened the door parallel to the 2, loud moans ringing through both of your ears, the sight of your friend riding some random guy she just met.

A yelp emits from your mouth, your hand instantly closing the door. A deep sigh leaves Øystein's mouth, a chuckle soon to follow.

"This is why I told you to stay away from parties like this," he said shaking his head as he released you from his ironclad grip. You were about to speak up again, but the words caught in your throat when he grabbed your face and inched closer, a smirk slowly making its way across his face.

The couple hastily moved away from each other, a stern look suddenly present in Øystein's face. He motioned you to come inside the room while they quickly ran out of it, leaving you two alone.

The atmosphere was tense as Øystein pointed his finger at you, the silence filling the room. He finally opened his mouth to speak. "You were about to do something stupid," He said accusingly, his intense gaze never leaving your face.

You gulped, suddenly intimidated by him. "I-I was just curious," you stuttered. You instantly regretted your words.

He clenched his jaw, looking at you with disdain before letting out a deep breath and relaxing his stance a bit.

"Curiosity is not always your friend," he tilted his head, his gaze still boring into yours as he grabbed your hands in his own. "I think… You’re just acting like a slut to get my attention."

You felt your heart racing as you stared back at him, unable to find words. Øystein smiled devilishly before swooping in for a kiss without warning, spinning you around and pushing you against the wall. He then kissed every inch of your body until his lips were back on yours. You could feel electricity coursing through both of your bodies and it felt amazing. You knew then that you were in way too deep.

His grip on you was tight, almost bruising your waist. As you both kissed, his body collided with yours, and soon you found yourself laid on the bed with him on top of you.

Your pussy pooled with wetness, his veiny, pale hands traveling to your core. He started to move his fingers inside you, pushing and pulling in a deep rhythm. His subtle and gentle movements were filling your body up with pleasure like nothing else before. With each thrust of his hand, you felt yourself coming closer and closer to the brink of orgasm.

Before you even came, his hands retracted from your core and his lips trailed down your neck. He worked his way to your nipples, pulling up your top, and teasing them with his tongue as he moved further down past the small of your back, kissing each inch of skin as if it were precious.

However the passion ended there. Øystein suddenly flipped you over on all fours, his hand colliding with your ass; a stinging sensation traveling through you.

A moan escaped your lips, as you felt empty without him inside. In order to fill that void, your fingers found its way to your clit, rubbing it as strained whimpers escaped your mouth.

He smacked your hand away, placing his hand in front of your mouth. "Spit." He demanded.

A pool of your saliva bubbled on his hand, as he retracted it and rubbed it on his aching cock.

And before you knew it, he was spearing into you. His thrusts hurried and intense, as if it were his last time, each increasing in pressure until he was shaking with the feeling of pure pleasure.

"S-Slow down, Øystein... Fuck!" You cried out, sobs bubbling out of your mouth, and as soon as you know it, tears spilled out from pleasure.

Your moans rung in his ears as he noticed the music downstairs died down a bit, but he didn't care. He was too focused on the blissful pleasure that your body gave him, as your muscles clenched onto his cock with each thrust, sending spasms of ecstasy through his body.

His hand grabbed a handful of your hair, roughly stuffing your face into the pillows, suppressing your moans.

"Be fucking quiet, whore." He seethed, as his thrusts quickened and the air filled with your muffled moans.

It was hard to breathe with your face in the pillows, and the fact that he kept smacking your ass didn't help much. You felt your insides warming up as he hit just the right spot, and it wasn't long before a wave of heat spread over your body.

Just before you knew it, you came on his hard cock, moaning into the pillow as your wet pussy clenched tightly onto his cock. Your fluids seeped down your thighs, as your body shook in recovering pleasure.

Øystein was about to fall apart, his thrusts going erratic. His hands grabbed your shoulders and he started pounding into you wildly. It wasn't long before he let out a deep guttural grunt, "Let me paint that pretty face of yours." He pulled your head out the pillows, whispering in your ear.

The searing pain of the grip on his hair flowed through you, but you were still at a high.

He made you drop to your knees, pumping his cock right in front of your face. You opened your mouth, closing your eyes and letting Øystein shoot his cum over your tongue and face.

It was then that you felt the last contractions of his orgasm, and Øystein finally released his grip from your hair. You stayed on your knees for a moment, taking in everything that just happened.

As you looked up to him with glazed eyes, his smile devilishly looking down upon you. "Let's go," His voice raspy.

You stood up, nodding, and your knees slightly went weak. "Let me just wipe my face–"

"No." Øystein's voice was stern. "Leave it." He said with a smirk.

As you both descended down the stairs, the party still going on as a few eyes stared at you. Silence was shared between them, while others raised an eyebrow.

Shit, some of them even had a hard-on.

Øystein didn't care though,

he wanted everyone to know you were his.

[impishjesters]

Agents of Cat-astrophe

warning(s): none unless you count Jax note(s): This gave me a good chuckle as someone who's consistently dropping more curse words than regular words, I'd imagine the system to just censor anything and everything that comes out of my mouth at that point. A/N: (In response to the requester) I wish I was taking breaks (I mean I am sorta), I'm fully aware I'm running myself ragged right now. But it's hard for me to stop myself... I'm caffeinated and chaotic and I don't wanna stew in my brain for too long. At least I get up and stretch every now and then. Request: Anyways, I’m requesting a Jax x reader (crushing stage) where the reader is sorta at the same level of meanness as Jax and likes to do pranks with him on the other characters. Also the reader’s digital form is a short cat that at first glance makes them look nice/friendly (obviously not an actual cat but yk what I mean), and they have a sailor’s mouth that is unfortunately censored but that doesn’t stop them (can also purr and does so when they’re content which is usually when there chilling in Jax’s room or with Jax in general). I think it would be fun if the reader surprisingly was sorta nicer to Kinger and has a small soft spot for him and does more playful pranks on him than mean/harmful ones.

When you first showed up, you looked so small and frail, like a literal little kitten completely out of place in this big colourful nightmare world

Ragatha thought you’d be like Pomni, and boy howdy was she wrong

You just ended up being another Jax—who you later met and found out was also an agent of chaos

Similarly to Pomni you cursed up a storm when you first arrived and the endless censorship that came with it

You have a knack for testing Caine’s patience when it comes to your sailor’s mouth, much to Jax’s entertainment. It’s not every day Caine loses his cool like that and you’re just a newbie, needless to say, you caught his interest

That sailor’s mouth also gets used towards the other’s and Jax won’t lie and say it’s not funny because shit’s hilarious.

Sure they all curse from time to time, but you just laid out an entire sentence that was completely and utterly censored. Like the system said “fuck this I’m gonna censor the whole damn sentence”

Unlike Jax who doesn’t show any remorse for who he pranks or how cruel they are, you draw the line at messing with Kinger.

Okay, that’s a lie you still mess with him but it’s not like how you mess with the others. Kinger has this sweet unstable dad/grandpa vibe and it kind of makes the place more homey in a weird way. (plus that man has been through enough trauma, give him a break, and talk about his bug collections or some shit)

The upside is that his mind is so scattered sometimes that using the same pranks on him always results in something hilarious. So you really don’t need to try for any new material. (he also really needs to consider actually using the lock on his door, he makes it too easy)

Jax considered you his little partner in crime the more time passed—not exactly a friend nah, but like a good ol pal that also likes to partake in joining him and his bullshittery

The first time he hears you purring is when the two of you are lazing about in his room, he’d gotten distracted collecting things for a prank on someone and heard the loudest rumbling coming from behind him

“Are you fucking purring?”

It’s a little embarrassing at first, you’ve uh, never done that before..

Jax has the biggest shit-eating grin, if he wasn’t using dumb cat-themed nicknames before he sure as hell is now

“Oh, like you don’t stomp your feet like a petulant child you overgrown rabbit.”

He does not stomp his fuckin feet like a temperamental rabbit, thank you very much (that’s a fuckin lie if I ever heard one)

Jax already had mixed feelings about you before, nothing particularly bad, just feelings he couldn’t place…that was until the prank…

He doesn’t know how you did it, or how he got so wrapped up in it. But you pranked him, and you pranked him good.

Oh, oh okay that feeling is new… butterflies don’t typically belong inside your gut, now whether Jax has ever experienced a crush before or not is probably beyond him. But these little butterflies are a bitch and it takes awhile of placing two and two together to realize he’s… caught feelings to some degree

You, however, probably had a crush on him for a while, perhaps really noticing it after the whole purring fiasco when you learned that it only happened around Jax

[thebiggerbear]

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

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+

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

Tom Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

Soldier Boy version ✨ Beau version ✨ Dean version ✨ Jenny version ✨ Jason version ✨ Anael version ✨ SDV Alex version

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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[floofeh-purpi]

Through the Screen. (Pt. 2)

Self-aware! Obey Me x Gn! Insomniac! Reader

MAG EY KA MUNA EYYYY!!!! Also, off topic but I think it's now going to sound like a fanfic... 😭🙏

『Beloved fluffball/s mentioned below! 💜』

@rotin0 @cherry-blossom-sword80 @leniisreallycool @mc-cos-charm @imtotallynotthere @cosmo112 @cheeseburgercasserole @kanashi-aivy @dead-d0ves

Warnings: Cursing, spelling/grammar errors, it feels like I'm awake at 3am even though I started this shit at 8:13pm, you might be based by me in terms of some stuff going on w you (sorry), one mention of you being su*cidal, what the fuck im now half-asleep.

【Part 1】

• Ok, you sometimes voice call your friends in messenger (or whatever app you use to call them) for whatever reason.

• Lets say you might call them so that yall can play an online game that doesnt have voice chat.

• Fuckers they can hear you.

• As in the characters, they can hear you.

• Every foul word that comes out through your mouth? Yes.

• Those noises of you aggresively clicking your keyboard? Yes.

• The air conditioning doing its own thing? Yes.

• Hell, THE WAY THAT YOU BREATHE? YES.

• You dont know about that part yet

• So now that you know that they know how to make some changes to the game's code...

• Let's just say your initial reaction was legit: :0

• But realization risen upon you. Oh shit...

• If they'll break outta the game and into your phone, does that mean that they can see what you have on your phone, gallery, and the edits you saved on your phone thats crying for you to free some space in its storage. 😨

• Luckily, this new yet somewhat not-so new phone has the ability to hide away your apps, files, pictures, and videos into a hidden folder! :D

• You kept your more not child-friendly stuff into that folder in case your parents will check your phone.

• And I kid you not, what if they will somehow find a way to connect/join with your other devices too?! D:

• You decided to play Obey Me, since that's how you cope with the fact that quarterly tests are approaching your grades dangerously close.

• ...Tests be damned?

• Tests, be damned it is.

★ (this means timeskip)

• ...Maybe it was a bad idea.

• Because you're literally sweating bullets as you're looking at the first question written on the test paper.

Welp, I'm fucked.

• No shit, the very few questions that you know that you'll get right is your name and date.

• And not to mention that time pressure is a thorn to your mind right now.

Class, you have 30 minutes left!

• Sternly exclaimed the teacher, with students making stressed-out noises and sounding like they we're binge-watching anime last night. This was totally not targeted towards a certain someone in my school. Nope.

• You groaned along with the other students before you buried your face in the sweating palms of your hands and then moving them to your forehead to answer the next question. 29 out of 30 questions... you'd be finished right now if it was your favorite subject. But this test was easy. Way too easy...

• Hm...

• God damn it. You took your words back as soon as you saw the arch nemesis of your life.

• And... Is that x3+y3+z3=k?

...EAHHHGGHH—

• Why... You were so certain that not a single math teacher could've taught this yet.

• You we're so damn thankful that this was multiple choice. Omfg.

• Anygays-

Eeny meeny miny Moe...

(This divider means a longer timeskip.)

• Ok so, after all that suffering, you can finally get the hell out of this dumpster of a fucking school!

• You skip your way out of that shitty classroom, with the first thing– or rather person– to greet you was your non-fictional and only best friend! Yipee! :D

N/n!!! :D (N/n means Nickname)

• Exclaimed they, the person who has been with you through thick and thin.

We'll go to your house just like you promised, right?

• So bright, like the stars blanketing the night skies.

• Sometimes you wish you were like them.

• Cheerful, positive, an absolute sunshine up your face, not-so suicida—

Uhm... N/n?

• Oops. You spaced out again.

Yah, lesgo.

• After y'all went inside your... miserable excuse of a house (you know you havent cleaned this shit up for god knows how long.)

• Luckily, your parents (mainly your dad) was in an EXTRA good mood today, (they weren't present after they screamed profanities at you last night <3) so you had the house all to your yourself.

Don't worry, my parents aren't here today..

• You said, which eased the concern building up inside your best friend's mind after they remembered what you told them about your... 'normal' relationship with your parents.

C'monnn, let's study in the living room.

• You best friend whined before dragging your sleep deprived ass to your couch.

★

Wahhh! Are you sure this ain't corn syrup?

I think so. Yah. Wait I don't even buy that shit to shove it up the drawer's ass...-

• Ok uhmm.... What was supposed to be a study session turned into a cooking session.

• Bless Solomon for not being present in the kitchen. Yet.

• You were about add some extra spices to- what the fuck were you making again??? when your loud ass 6pm alarm rang.

Augh...

• You groaned. Your hands were oily as fuck and you needed to take your maintenance. Great timing up my fucking ass.

Yo B/f/n, pass me my pills. Please?

Yah su-

• You and your friend suddenly got a loud ass obey me notification on your phones. They at least still had the decency to pass you your pills even while they're still shocked at the kind of notification they got.

• I mean, no shit dipshit.

• Bitch how tyhe fuck did they know that you eat dinner at 9 in the fucking eveni-

• Oh..

• OH...

• You forgot they can practically stalk you through your phone and you haven't told your good ol' bestie about that now, did you...

• ...Oops. 🥰

If you think this is short, and its your first time stubling upon the dumpster collection of a blog thats also 95% full of reblogs, wait until you see that sagau series that i havent finished yet 😭🙏

Published: October 14 2024. 8:13pm.

[weebsinstash]

hey, can I have more husband and wife family dynamics with thragg? maybe more about her pregnancy or the kids' childhood/baby time?

Sure can! It's been pretty fun writing about potential scenarios where this monstrous piece of shit can actually feel love. First and foremost I was watching a video on YouTube going over this scene again and uh Comic Readers KNOW How Fucked This Man Is. um, out of context vague spoilers but, I'm assuming people asking about Thragg have read the comics or are curious about the comics but like yall Need To Know how he treats the kids of his enemies

I feel like I need to share/remind people of this scene because like, this man can be kind of hard to pin down. He's from this loveless society that sees kindness as weakness and he's like King Dickhead but there are still times when he can be quite courteous, even apologetic, sarcastic, whatever. I think at the end of the day he's just a very selfish, explosive, emotionally impulsive man but revisiting this scene was a little surprising for me since I forgot he was even like, capable of "small kindnesses" like saying sorry or whatever. Like. Is him wiping her tears while smearing blood all over her face a well intentioned accident or is he like waging psychological warfare on this like, i think she's literally 5 years old. What is the purpose of him apologizing to a child for splashing blood of her family member on her when he intends to kill her or leave her for dead in front of her dying parents anyways. I'm still trying to get a feel on this man

THAT BEING SAID, moving on, we're talking about a yandere Thragg today and thankfully that comes with perks

- it's pretty obvious but like, you are his favorite mate and your children are his favorite children. I like to think of concepts with Reader being Ursaal and Onaan's mother or even the previously mentioned triplet idea with Mark being their sibling (otherwise I'd have to invent new characters and that doesn't, resonate the same, and I also really like Ursaal actually and I feel like there's some real story potential in Ursaal discovering more of her humanity through her mother's kindness and wanting to protect her mother from her father)

-can you imagine like. I still think about the idea where you're actually Nolan's mate but one day you mouth off to Thragg and he "puts you in your place" in front of Nolan as a punishment to you both and like a month later you find out you're pregnant and, I imagine abortions are only done on Viltrum if the fetus is too weak or defective, so you're forced to carry it and you and Nolan are lying that it's his and then one day Thragg just, passes by, sees your swelling tummy, takes one sniff of you, "it's mine" and demands a paternity test. And you'd think, "oh surely he'd just take the baby" which is what you'd prefer but, no it becomes a pretext for him to steal you from Nolan altogether

-you're fed incredibly nutrient dense, protein packed, ultimate pregnancy food because Thragg wants those babies as healthy as possible. Thragg has probably had other alien kids before but these are his first hybrid or nearly fully Viltrumite children and that makes them special. New dad Thragg holding up these little absolute mammoths of newborns with all their chunk and pudge and rolls and he's just so proud, "look at how robust these children are! Surely they have inherited my strength! Fine additions to the Viltrum Empire were born on this day" and you're like half awake in bed and he just, pets your hair

-ok just. Ok just picture it like. You're pregnant and upset and so stressed out because you didn't want to be Nolan's mate after he helped conquer Earth but at least you had known him and liked him initially. You're just constantly stressed out and angry and watching every single word you say around Thragg because you don't know him or what he's capable of, but I imagine a sort of scenario where he's taking you to the doctor and running tests and procedures and just, you know prenatal checkup stuff, but the doctors are all speaking to Thragg instead of you, you aren't even being told your own test results, and the two of you finally arrive back home and you just break down crying and kind of tear into him, "I'm sure YOU have had lots of kids before but I'VE never had a baby before and I don't know what to expect or what's going to happen or- or -" and you're just bawling because, it's not a lie you're scared. You're having a baby and you're gonna be a new mom and it's entirely against your will, out of your control, and that's incredibly stressful. And this becomes a moment where Thragg actually shows some humanity by sitting you down and discussing the doctors visit with you, and that's one of the first times the two of you actually have a civil, extended conversation

Thragg thinking he's so fucking big and tough and then he sees you this little fragile fleshy untrained civillian with the big teary boo hoo eyes with your shaking hands on your little belly as you cry about being scared about giving birth to his baby and he's just, "shit I DO have feelings" and immediately feels the overwhelming need to comfort you. He'll comfort you under the guise of "stress isn't good for the children" which is true but, it's him blanketing his own concern and masking it under an excuse

-I kind of feel like that hypothetical event would be like, a footnote in your relationship. He starts treating you differently, attentive in new ways, more... emotional ways. He'll stop by while he's working on a break or something to check on with you and the assigned caretakers he has guarding you (because the very second you're confirmed pregnant you have 24/7 security) and he'll awkwardly grunt out questions about, have you eaten yet, are you experiencing any pain today, any discomfort, any new symptoms. He'll check in with your guards/nannies privately about if there's anything you're doing that he needs to know about, give tou a nice husbandly shoulder touch and then (reluctantly) getting back to work

-to be blunt part of me questions if he even has sex to create children or if he uses something akin to IVF and I only say this because of the absolute ASSEMBLY LINE he sets up on Thraxia. Trust me though he beats the kitty up with you CONSTANTLY

-I actually think after giving birth is like the ONE time you're allowed any birth control because apparently if you have too many pregnancies in too close time frames it actually sucks the calcium out of your bones and can give you osteoarthritis and Thragg wants you healthy, "for more future children obviously" which is such a lie because let's say you have your miracle birth of giving him twins or triplets or whatever but you hemmorage and become infertile or whatever. Mf is STILL keeping you around. When you think about it he technically doesn't even need you to help raise his children, he has people for that, but he forces you to be part of the process anyways

- tbh I kind of like the idea of Thragg developing some weird fucking like complex where he discovers he feels comforted cuddling you, like man gets hit by oxytocin like a fucking freight train, and it becomes him literally being unable to sleep without you in his arms. You could be in a yelling screaming argument with this man and he suddenly like, just completely shuts you down, "ENOUGH!! I require rest and I won't tolerate anymore of your childish whining!" And you could be spitting mad at him and he's just, picking you up just physically picks you up and drags you to bed anyways. Hooks his arms around your waist as the big spoon and buries his face in your hair even as you spit insults about how you hope he kills himself

Like I think I've mentioned this idea with other characters before but imagine Thragg waking up on the middle of the night IMMEDIATELY PISSED because the bed beside him is cold and he finds you on the couch, on the couch, maybe even without blankets and visibly uncomfortable, because yeah he WILL wake you up to drag you back to bed with him.

- Thragg being this warrior who literally watched people be disembowled and tortured and conquered races but suddenly you're in labor and he's in the delivery room (he refuses to wait outside) watching you literally scream in pain and he just, takes your hand and tells you to squeeze, and that it'll be alright, and he sees you so vulnerable and scared and emotional and you're looking to him for some kind of help but he can't, even with all his strengths and feats he can't help you right now, however this pregnancy goes is up to fate and the doctors and he feels like an actual visceral HUMBLING sense of helplessness that just makes him, even more obsessively protective over you

- deadass if it becomes a "he can only save one: you or the children" life-threatening pregnancy scenario, he chooses you. Says you can always try again but even if you wind up infertile and "useless" to him, he's too attached to you at this point, it doesn't matter if you "don't serve a function" or whatever bullshit Viltrumite mindset he may have had with previous mates before. You're different to him, and you're making HIM different as a person

- You're just half alive on the couch because Giving Birth is Hard and here's Thragg doing shit like personally bringing you water, feeling your forehead for any fever, monitoring your condition, aggressively interrogating your guards for extra info, sitting beside you with your babies in his arms. He lets you rest after giving birth and nearly bends over backwards

- I feel like at some point you're forced to accept a lot of real fucked up stuff and especially if you are a hybrid Vultrimite yourself and thus will be with Thragg for, basically forever, like some real "mate, do you have any cravings today. What do the children require" "ummm... at the ceremony last month, there was that... blue, little.... crab thing?" "A Florkian. They are incredibly rare" "oh... I'm sorry, I didn't know-" " -and since I observed that you were fond of the taste when you were consuming them, I went ahead and conquered their homeworld and farms have been established. I can have the slaves prepare a dish for you right away" "oh, thank you, ive been craving it ever since i ate it but i didnt want to bother by asking 🥰" "as your mate it is my duty to provide for you. Do not keep any of your desires from me"

- your children are getting trained as soldiers the second they develop powers and that's something you'll have to get used to. If your little babies get their powers at 5, they're still learning combat, getting knocked around, near beaten, "toughened up". Thragg will conceal the full extent of how they're treated from you because the way he sees it, you weren't raised on Viltrum and you're simply ignorant of their culture. He doesn't need you to accept how things are. Your kids will come home with black eyes and bruises and bloodied noses and he'll growl at you not to make them too soft as you weep over Ursaal missing a chunk of her hair because an opponent grabbed her by it and she had to break away and some was ripped out at her scalp, like. The psychological damage of asking your small child how their day with their father went, "it was excellent mother, I made my first kill!!" And then gleefully describing to you in detail how while their father was fighting an enemy soldier, the soldiers child attacked yours, and, your baby killed another kid. Like. That's the sort of thing you have to be raised with to block out of your heart. Going to hug your child who may not even be 10 years old and they have literal blood on their hands

-personal headcanon but also semi canon but I imagine Ursaal is the most competent of your twins and is Thragg's favorite. She just has a better tactical mind on her shoulders and isn't, uh. As horribly sadistically violent as Onaan. Like say your kids become platonic yandere or whatever, or, you have your own kids with thragg and the twins are separate but still attached to you. Onaan is the kid you find killing cats because he's jealous they get more attention than him while Ursaal is like, giving her father incredibly detailed reports and her own insight into what you've been up to, how you're feelings, things you say and do when Thragg isn't around

-so I know y'all see that image I posted with Thragg and his twins. I tried to censor, The Cape last time but I realized like, even with censoring the head it's still super obvious who that is, there's only one white furred creature in this entire show. I imagine after Thragg gets his Beast Drip that, once Throkk's daughter comes for revenge, she is also slaughtered, and her pelt becomes YOUR cape. Or maybe Thragg offhandedly mentions to you that BB Jr has vowed vengeance and you're casually flipping through a book, "is she as strong as her father, like if you had to rate it 1 to 10 with her father being 10 and 1 being a human. If the daughter is at about a 7 or below, Ursaal should be able to handle her, get herself a nice coat to match her father" and Thragg feels this warmth in his chest to hear you're actually observant of his/your children and their prowess, especially to hear you praise Ursaal in such a uh violent context, just casually suggesting his daughter could turn another sentient humanoid creature into a pelt to wear. This is another example of "living the viltrum life will eventually dehumanize you and rob you of certain empathies"

- I don't think you would actually have a title but could you imagine if Thragg decides you're like, officially his true mate, like the mate above all others, like you're the Empress in his little harem of concubines and ladies in waiting. I hc that your official title is something like Grand Duchess or perhaps if this is the twin/triplet scenario something more vaguely historical sounding like The High Mother or Regent Mother or, you get the point

-I still think "Reader turns out to be an incredibly late blooming hybrid" is a neat concept but I also don't know how they would miss that since during your pregnancy and all you're receiving medical care out the ass but like. Thragg personally training both you and the children as a family. Would be kind of humiliating honestly because it's kind of vaguely implied you should learn things before the kids do and if you struggle, here's Thragg, telling his kids in private they have to protect you and keep an eye on you and report any problems back to him

- thragg would definitely be training you in hand to hand but suddenly finds he can't bear hitting you in the face or hitting you at a certain strength. Like. Absolutely 100% you're gonna have a lot of scenarios where you're brawling or wrestling and he pins you and it swiftly transitions to you getting rawdogged from your high on adrenaline husband. Tbh that sex would probably be his favorite, where he has to defeat you in combat and then rewards himself. Can probably border from hatesex to consensual to noncon, not that he has a problem doing THAT to you either

- probably has portraits done of you and him. Idk do you think Viltrum has like enough art culture for portraits to be a thing? Most fascist tyrants have portraits. He would have several done: you and him, just you, you while pregnant, him and you while pregnant, you holding your babies, you and him holding your babies, and family shots as they grow up. Say you conquer a planet together as a family and one day you're revisiting and there's some sort of museum set up amd you find like a wall length portrait of, you and your children soaked in blood tearing carnage through the fire and flames and Thragg is beside you just nodding in approval, "they captured your image rather well"

- goooooddddd imagine you're just a normal human and you progressively start showing signs of aging. You start getting more wrinkles. Your body starts working in different ways, popping, cracking, aching. Onaan, Ursaal, and Thragg all notice and they're like FREAKING OUT HONESTLY. The children don't want to accept that their mother is actually going to be a speck on the timeline of their entire lifespans. Thragg doesn't want to accept that he has to let you go and you're never coming back. They all become obsessed with finding ways to keep you young, keep you alive, fuck it they'll clone you and transfer your consciousness into a new body if they have to! This is comic book world and these are obsessed aliens and they have OPTIONS

- something something "what if Reader isn't a viltrumite hybrid but is still like super-powered or a mutant or whatever and this isn't revealed until you like are fatally injured or even DIE die and suddenly you, pop back up". Cause I feel like this "close call" would drive any yandere literally insane because, what if there's no second chance, what just happened, can you still die, they can never never never never never allow you to get hurt ever ever ever again

Thragg just walks into the kitchen and you have the stove top red hot and you've just got your palm resting on it and you look to him kind of just shocked, all, "look... nothing happens... I just feel some of the warmth" and Thragg just puts his fist through your oven anyways, "you could've gotten hurt" and immediately picking you up and carrying you to some sort of perceived "safer place"

- this is like a specific scenario but like, can you imagine as a mom you like to brush and comb Ursaal's hair and you idly suggest she could always grow it out more and you could help braid it and things, but once it starts getting longer Thragg objects and says it could get grabbed during a fight and orders her to cut it but you step in and say she shouldnt have to, it's HER hair, and you two get into it, and one day Ursaal is brought home by her father and he's all but shaved her head after she had actually grown it out to a decent length. You and Thragg are at odds over how to treat rhe children and Ursaal begins to realize that many of the restrictions her father instills on her are because of a way of life she may not fully agree with, a life filled with violence and bloodshed with no room for love or kindness or creativity. She probably helps you from going over the edge too, honestly. If anything else through this life with Thragg, in your darkest places you may still find yourself thinking you have to keep going to try and help your children

- with others, Thragg is the kind of yandere where he's standing in the same room as you and you're both doing completely different things and he suddenly says, "so I noticed during the meeting that your eyes kept lingering on my mate" and without further warning he's beating up someone on the accusation they were lusting for his wife, no discussion, just fists , and he'll do shit like this a lot to the point people don't feel comfortable being around you and you're just further socially isolated

- I feel like Thragg would have some weird like fondness slash fetish for watching you breastfeed. Like, awww here's his cute little wife with his chubby little babies and you're giving them their nice milk, what a good mom, providing for the babies he put in your belly ❤️ part of me is convinced if you're a viltrumite or hybrid or whatever that you uh. Eventually wind up with a lot of babies. A LOT of babies. Do you think he would want a specific amount or its just vibes. Like you're over 300 years old and you've already got 50 kids with him but he sees you teaching one of your youngest sons how to throw a punch and suddenly he wants another

- all I'm saying is if he ever catches you self harming or attempting to hurt yourself he's gonna have a real extreme reaction. Like he finds you cutting yourself with a broken glass and you're immediately restrained and taken to a hospital, completely stripped, inspected for other wounds, and if there are any and especially a lengthy history of them, you're in such trouble. But I also think it would be extremely difficult to hide this from him since as time goes on you two are constantly having sex or he's inviting himself into your shower to bathe with you. You accidentally bang your arm on a counter or something and get a tiny bruise, this man will know about it and wants a detailed report on where it came from

- even when you guys aren't super familiar with each other and you've "just met" he's already protective and all that. Like you've just been brought into his home and you barely even know him still and he may even act mean and angry to you and then one day he sees you have a large bruise on your arm, "what is this?" ".... it's nothing, Grand Regent" "I asked you a question and you'll answer me: where did this come from" "... I spoke out of turn with one of your advisors and turned to leave without permission, Grand Regent" "And so they grabbed you?" "Yes Grand Regent" "who" "it was my fault, I-" "WHO" and the second you give a name or description he's wordlessly leaving the room and shows up again HOURS later with visible blood on him, "it has been handled. You are not to be harmed or punished without my permission or instruction"

- in some scenario where you leave the kids behind and try to run away, like... he isn't just gonna throw up his hands, "well I already got children out of her, she has served her purpose" and leave you the fuck alone. If anything this man would track you down just to tell you off for having the fucking nerve to disobey and defy him! I can picture an actively captured wife where you are constantly kept on some kind of restraint or have a bracelet or collar or even a LEAD THAT HE HOLDS and you're IMPRISONED rather than "I'm being monitored but otherwise I have my own agency". Thragg will make himself a throne that you can be chained to if he has to. He'll have restraints made that are decorative and complimentary of your features. Imagine he's making some sort of public appearance and while he's speaking he's got an arm around your waist and you're pulled up against him and meanwhile you've got. A bar gag and cannot speak

- really, truly, in a way, you become a symbol, but one of all different kinds. There are Viltrumites who see how their mighty Grand Regent treats his mate and they are viscerally disgusted (Kregg and Lucan comes to mind), like people who really start to question the society they are living in, questioning if it really must be so selfish and devoid of empathy, questioning if they really want to keep living this way and for their children and their children's children to live like this. Then there are others who see the way the Grand Regent controls his mate and see its as a sign of strength and permission to treat their own mates the same.

Mostly, though... the only thing that will take you away from Thragg is death. Until the day one of you dies, you're stuck with him, and there's basically no one around who's stronger than he is, period. You might as well cozy up and get friendly with your new husband, since you're going to be together for a long time and spend lots, and lots, and LOTS of time together ❤️

[firemenenthusiast]

kinda random what if reader was a domme and had not only Jann as a sub but FARLEIGH also and reader makes them get freaky deaky with each other while reader watches 🌚🌚🌚🌚

or Farleigh gets to fuck reader and lowkey cuck Jann watches and can’t touch them or even touch himself and has to clean up the juices afterwards.....OOOOOORRRRR vice versa, oh I just knowwwww Farleigh would be having a fit but high-key like it maybe RRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH I NEED TO SPREAD MY POLY READER/JANN/FARLEIGH AGENDAAAAAA

hell, to spice it up even more throw Kai in there, he's the ultra king of freaky fucks out of all of archie's characters to me so I have a feeling the whole thing would have him in freak paradise me thinks 😼😼😼

im officially combusting juniperhasfallen i fear you are a freaking genius cuz all your ideas in my inbox are nothing short of absolute deliciousness WAAARRRBBRRHRHRH. oh how i love making all of them my sub cuz they be suubbbyyyy

warnings: 18+, porn w/o plot, no protection (which is very unethical in this situation), three foursome, p in v, sub!/dom! farleigh, sub!jann, sub!/dom! kai, blowjobs, cum eating, reverse cowgirl, m! masturbation, creampie, teabagging, men whimpering, whining, crying, edging, overstimulating, ruined orgasms, cuckolding, cumshots, cuffing

a/n: well isn’t this interesting

GET THIS. we all know how farleigh is willing to fuck basically anyone. and jann, is by default the sweetest sub known to mankind. but when you brought up the idea to farleigh he secretly got excited but pretended to hate it cuz he thinks jann’s a loser. also because he’s lowkey jealous with how sweet you are with jann. farleigh ofcourse had to get his turn first with you, making jann sit in the cuck sofa in the corner, forcing jann to watch you play with his cock at the edge of the bed, his arms propped against the mattress with his thighs spread far apart. farleigh wants to be all whimpery and whining while you tease the sensitive tip of his cock but when he remembers that jann’s watching, he contains his moans cuz it would be embarrassing. while jann sits pretty in the chair naked with his hard cock out, tip red and leaking with the vein on the side bulging prominently, farleigh makes sure that he watches with his hands obediently on the armrests, no touching allowed. eventho farleigh’s literally getting fucked over by you, his cock twitching and precum trickling down his length into your hands, he still manages to be an asshole towards jann who’s watching, saying things like “dont you dare look away racer boy, keep your fucking hands to yourself” farleigh’s just spewing mean orders to jann, who suprisingly, obeys whatever farleigh says.

jann aches to fist his length with his hands at the view of you bouncing on another huge cock but he has to behave, because you’re praising them both while farleigh is in you, telling jann how good of a boy he’s being just sitting there obediently, and how pretty he looks, and reminding him how good boys get rewarded. jann refuses to jeopardise his chance at an orgasm even though he’s close to cumming undone from cucking you and farleigh. he doesn’t want to end up being overstimulated like him, being edged over and over again by you, being stripped off from his orgasm repeatedly that his balls are starting to turn purple. farleigh’s whining, begging you to let him cum, his hips desperately bucking but still, he’s running his mouth at jann. “fuck—, you okay over there, mngh ? you’re so hard man, it’s pathetic” which gets him another ruined orgasm from you, for being mean to jann. guess he just couldn’t help it. jann is quiet, maybe too fucked with how hard he’s bucking his hips into thin air, desperate for some sort of relieve for his rock hard cock, bending towards his navel. every time farleigh would humiliate him with his words, jann would whine, tears threatening to spill from his pretty eyes. his balls are tight, full of cum, rubbing against the fabric of the sofa. “please—oh, please farleigh let me have her” being one of jann’s pleads amongst others that came out incoherent, sounding more like blabbers from how lightheaded he is, only for farleigh to respond with “shut your mouth”. at times farleigh would receive a slap across his face, as you put him back in his place. you would think that’ll shut him up but no, he’d let out a loud moan, enjoying being slapped that you can feel his cock twitch. jann almost cums when you’re cumming for the second time on farleigh’s cock, all while ruining his orgasm for the ninth time.

farleigh’s now crying from blue balls, his tip leaking so much precum, his hand desperately grabbing at your waist to aid the intense aching on his crotch, another hand over his quivering lips, his eyes red with droplets of tear clinging onto his long lashes. eventho he’s in that state, his mouth is still spewing humiliation towards jann, only to whimper again from you overstimulating him. “stop, stop- stop, stop please” farleigh would beg, shutting his eyes as you edge him over another waves of pleasure, only to rip it away again. you’d kiss down his body from his jaws, making sure to spend extra time licking at his nipple, feeling yet another orgasm coming from farleigh from his twitching cock. you bite at his nipple slightly harder before quickly getting up from his cock for it to instantly slap against his lower belly before ropes of cum squirts out of his raging red tip, so much of it landing all over his body, some even getting on his lips. he’s crying, hips bucking from the overstimulation, as you hear jann mutters a low “fuck—“. catching your breath, you smile at farleigh in his fucked up state, he’s too hazy to say anything to jann now, only being able to blabber strings of thankyou’s to you for letting him cum this time. while you watch him come down from his cries, your fingers trace small hearts with his cum on his chest, giggling at his limp twitching cock in front of your pussy. when you turn your head over to jann, he looks like a madman, having just watched his girlfriend fucking another huge cock that’s not his, all while he’s forced to keep his hands to himself by a brat he doesn’t even know why he’s obeying.

when you get up from farleigh to walk over and kneel before jann, your fingers carefully grazing over the length, an immediate spurt of cum shooting onto your face. you look up to jann who’s breathing hard, he just can’t keep it anymore, cumming with just a slight touch from your hand. you help him ride out his orgasm, though not as satisfying as he would hope for, atleast he finally gets to be touched by you. you continue to milk his cock, popping his balls into your mouth before sucking on them, slobbering saliva all over the skin. now that he’s allowed to touch himself, he’s tugging on his shaft while you suck on his balls, swirling your tongue over the soft mounds. he’s occasionally bumping his knuckles over your forehead from how hard he’s jerking his cock off. flattening your tongue over his balls, you grab his hand away before dragging your tongue from the underside of his balls to the head of his cock, finishing off with a suckle on his tip, swallowing the drops of cum decorating his cock, before pushing your head down to throat his length. the way you reward him is the exact reason he’ll always behave, because good boys get rewarded. and jann loves delayed gratification. “having fun, racer boy ?” you hear farleigh chirp from his place, sprawled out on the mattress, too fucked out from his turn before. “come here farleigh” you order, earning an eyeroll from him. “i said— come here”. you get up to meet farleigh halfway at the edge of the bed, climbing over him before grabbing his jaw to kiss him, giving him a taste of jann’s cum. he’s moaning at the taste, fingers kneading at the soft flesh of your waist. jann is breathing hard, his chest heaving covered in sweat.

how would i add kai in this mix you may ask ? while you’re fucking yourself on jann’s cock, farleigh submits to kai who’s also been watching the whole time, except he’s fully clothed in that navy blue shirt with his hands cuffed to the railing in the wardrobe. farleigh’s sucking him off, kneeling over him having to take it all with his hands over his head, depraved from the satisfaction of pulling at farleigh’s tight curls. wet sounds bouncing off the walls of the room pornographically, the four of you moaning against each other’s touch. jann is fucking into you reverse cowgirl, so you’d be able to watch kai getting a blowjob from farleigh, who looks like he’s having the time of his life. just as you can tell that kai is close, you tell farleigh to swallow most of it, keeping some on his tongue to bring it over to you, before spitting it into your mouth. he’s hard again, so you let him stand beside the chair and fuck your mouth while jann’s chases his orgasm, rapidly thrusting into your cunt. as you’re taking both farleigh and jann’s cock, kai is left still hanging on the railing, his cock limp with stickiness dripping from the tip onto the floor. he’s groaning, his knees threatening to give up yet his eyes couldn’t get off the view of you getting fucked by two cocks at once. “kai, baby- you wanna join ?” you deliriously ask with half lidded eyes, not even knowing where to fit him in the position. maybe after jann finish fucking his load into you, you make him get up and uncuff kai, plopping him onto the bed to ride him into oblivion.

and when you decide you’re done with all of them, they’re all gonna have to lie on the bed, cuddling with each other <3 who knows ? maybe kofun or ivo can join next time

[lollytea]

Today's huntlow post is Darius centered, specifically on whatever the fuck he believed was going on.

I think that post-ASIAS his relationship with Hunter was steering in a tentatively positive direction and Darius was plenty capable of giving him some praise and brisk affection. But he still didn't entirely know how to get involved with Hunter's newfound teenage problems.

Hunter started texting Willow regularly during the time when he was getting along with Darius. And Darius, who thinks of most teenagers with disdain, does NOT like where this is going. He's developing a bit of a protective streak towards the Golden Guard and doesn't like how he is clearly getting rather obsessed with some girl that Darius can barely get a read on. All he knows about her personality from his brief interaction with her is that she's impressively gutsy. But that doesn't matter much in this situation.

Darius keeps asking, casually of course, if he can read Hunter's text threads with her, only for him to get all red and defensive and stress that his messages are private. It's endlessly frustrating. Like, how else is Darius supposed to get a temperature on this girl's intentions? Hunter? Hunter is not a reliable source in the slightest. Titan bless his stupid heart, he's not the best judge of character.

Though he's noticeably cagey about the messages, Hunter still ends up yapping about Willow frequently and Darius doesn't know if he believes a word coming out of that boy's mouth.

Darius was a high schooler once. Darius knows what high schoolers are like. Darius even knew a boy who was so uniquely eccentric and socially awkward that their peers found him entertaining. They strung him along for his unintentional comedic appeal rather than valuing him as a person.

There was a time when the idea of the Golden Guard marching into Hexside and subsequently getting humbled by his ruthless peers who do not give a Titandamn fuck about his title would have been hilarious to Darius. But not anymore.

Now Darius is beginning to see that the brat he's known all these years is a lot more vulnerable than he seems. Sensitive even. And though he's beginning to get attached to his peculiar disposition, Darius can still point out every mannerism that a conventionally socialized teenager could bully him for.

He does not like the thought that Hunter is exhausting all of his clumsy affection towards some girl who, as far as Darius is aware, does not care about him NEARLY as much as he cares about her.

Darius is self aware enough to know he might have a bias. The boy he knew ALSO got himself tangled up with a girl with a big frame and an even bigger personality and the consequences of THAT whole mess were literally apocalyptic. It's probably not the same, but it makes him uneasy nonetheless.

What if she's baiting him for interaction only to screenshot his messages and mock him to her friends? What if she's working him up to execute a prank? Or maybe she simply pities him. Somehow Darius finds that just as distressing as the other possibilities because it will probably shatter Hunter just the same.

If Darius is watching a catastrophe in slow motion there is nothing he can do about it. He has his hands tied with more pressing matters, such as preventing armaggedon. And every time he TRIES to subtly discourage Hunter from putting Willow on a pedestal (*scoffs* "She's just a teenage girl, little prince. There's hundreds just like her") he gets huffy and storms away for some reason.

ANYWAY

Timeskip. A few months later. The morning after their whole realm was Collector detoxed. Some people are still complaining that they feel phantom strings but the weird sensation is beginning to fade away.

There's no solid plans for where Hunter will take up permanent residence, so Darius has offered him a temporary place in his home until they can find a more suitable guardian. (Spoiler: not as temporary as they thought)

Hunter sleeps. Hunter sleeps a LOT. He has a lot of troubling experiences to recharge from, so Darius just leaves him to it.

That's when the girl appears at his doorstep, wringing her dishevelled braids. She doesn't look like she's slept soundly. "Can I see Hunter?" She asks.

(I imagine that the kids, specifically Hunter, Willow and Gus develop a bit of fire forged seperation anxiety after the events of season 3. They want to be in each others pockets for a few weeks to months afterwards.)

"Well," Says Darius. "If you hadn't arrived unannounced and actually given us some notice, I could have told you that he's dead to the world right now."

Her eyes widen.

"Asleep." He quickly corrects himself. "You'll have to come back later."

Willow is no longer the enigmatic high school girl who may or may not pose a threat to Hunter's confidence from Darius' perspective. He knows that she's the person who rescued him during the scout attack on Hexside. He knows she kept him company during that time and the Day of Unity. He knows he spent months with her in the Human Realm. He knows their bond had become far more serious than vapid high school friendships. He saw them in the hall of the Collector's Palace, standing close together for comfort, Hunter holding her as they searched for her parents.

Darius decided that even if he had no idea how their relationship began, it hardly mattered. The last few months had aged them considerably. There was no way Willow had the capacity to be a petty mean girl after all she had been through.

And now she wanted to visit Hunter, presumably because he mattered to her. Darius still didn't know the angle of this relationship. He simply knew that it was important to both of them.

And Willow does not give up. She frowns, dejected, before her brow scrunches up in determination. She asks to visit him anyway. She would just like to look at him, just to know that he's there. It doesn't matter if he's sleeping, she just wants to see him.

There is a lengthy pause.

"Not in a weird way," Willow clarifies.

"Right," Nods Darius. "You want to watch him sleep in a normal way."

Somehow, Darius allows it and lets Willow venture up to the room. Mostly because he knows he'll get an earful from Hunter if he finds out that he turned his special girl away.

Even if he still doesn't know how to feel about her, he knows she's harmless. To Hunter anyway. Maybe not to Darius. Once she realized that the man standing in the doorway was the barrier between her and Hunter, her eyes had flashed menacingly for a second. Titan only knows what she had considered doing before she caught herself.

It's about five minutes later when Darius wanders up to the doorway of Hunter's room himself. He leans in the threshold and observes.

The girl has perched herself on the side edge of Hunter's bed, her fingers dancing across his forehead as she delicately wipes back stray strands of ashy blond hair. She's watching his sleeping face with such unreserved tenderness that Darius wonders if they've been building teenagers different these days. They weren't this kind when he was young.

Darius clears his throat, sending Willow springing to her feet. She throws up her hands, as though to prove her innocence.

"I was just..." She mumbles, rose cheeked. "Leaving."

"Mmhmm."

Well. Darius knows one thing for certain now. This relationship is clearly not as pathetically one-sided as he initially feared. But....the reality of the situation is sure to prove very annoying. He's not looking forward to this.

[aerialflight]

fic rec list (in other words, i need a list for my neurotic brain and its obsessions, f me)

Yeah, everything said above. also, the deadpool and wolverine brainrot is real. i only watched it a week ago. nfeiwofpewafe.

-

[Deadpool and Wolverine] (i'm still desperately searching for more. i just need a list for the ones that won't leave me alone fyufivuohbjl)

How To Pay For Rent 💸 by fictionfeast

Ship: Logan | Worst Wolverine/Wade Wilson (i still can't believe this is the ship name, they actually put worst wolverine as a specification. it's such a unique dynamic and relationship that we NEED that differentiation. amazing.)

To pay for rent, Logan and Wade take odd jobs on Craigslist.

(listen, LISTEN. just from the fact craiglist is involved, you KNOW it's gonna be off the walls crack and hilarity. i swear, this fic went in directions i never in a million years would've predicted, it's amazing. the voices for these characters are impeccable and i, too, would like to shake deadpool like a snowglobe so some goddamn honestly will barf out. logan, you have my sympathies. please read, i'm literally going insane.)

shattered glass by anarkissed

Ship: Logan | Worst Wolverine/Wade Wilson

At first, Wade is pretty sure it all starts with the bullet- the one Logan had held in his teeth and spit out like it was a prize. Or maybe it starts in the Honda Odyssey. Or maybe it had started way back with Logan's smile. That first sardonic one when they'd met. Or maybe it's the way Logan is always staring at him. Or maybe- "I think you're enjoying this too much." "Maybe you're not enjoying it enough." It’s more bite than kiss, more claim than caress, but it’s their mouths connecting all the same, and Wade gasps, hoarsely, as blood wells up from his lips and Logan tongues it away like it’s his god-given right. Oh, oh oh, oh- he’s crazy. He’s so crazy. Wade has never wanted anyone so badly in his entire life. Wade tries to figure out where whatever he has with Logan started. (And he's kind of hoping he never has to see how it ends.)

Part 1 of dying engine (poolverine/deadclaws)

(i'm not fucking kidding when i say this is my favorite d&w fic. i want to gnaw this in my mouth and develop vampire canines as i sharpen them every fucking reread. there are passages here that i reread like a fucking lunatic and i use the find in page option for the word 'crazy' just so i can go to my favorite part. and the fact there's a freaking part 2? that has logan's pov in it??? and it makes me feel just as unhinged??? it makes me want to go apeshit. please read. for the love of god.)

how easy you are to need by Patricia_Sage

Ship: Logan | Worst Wolverine/Wade Wilson

Wade smiles when the doctor opens the door. "Hi, we have a vet appointment at 2:00. Please tell me he doesn't have rabies because I have been scratched and bitten plenty." *** Logan gets treatment for adamantium poisoning. Wade helps.

Part 2 of he has risen, babygirl

(i fucking CACKLED reading this, omfg. also, wade's version of helping is both sweet and freaking hilarious, i love this idiot so much. and this fic! addresses the fact logan probably has ptsd medical trauma and i love that. it's hardly ever addressed and i appreciate how it's shown here. also, it's a series! part 1 is great too, you don't need to read it to understand part 2 though, dw.)

Void by RovingOtter

Ship: Logan | Worst Wolverine/Wade Wilson

After a week without contact, Logan leaves Wade a weird voicemail.

(i'm religiously checking in on this for updates. i know the summary doesn't say anything, so i'll say it here. logan becomes aware of the fourth wall and it's so fascinating??? a genuine look on what happens if the wolverine becomes aware that he's a fictional character and the exploration of that premise here is *chefs kiss* delicious. and how wade reacts to it and how they both deal with the aftermath of this development is so interesting and god, i NEED to know how this fic will go. genuinely one of those fics that have a premise i've never thought about before and it's GLORIOUS!)

where soul meets body by Edgebug

Ship: Logan | Worst Wolverine/Wade Wilson

"I'll probably see you around?" "Probably not," Logan says, something in his spine still shaking even now, and Wade looks at him with those huge dark eyes that look--hurt, maybe, heartbroken, and Logan knows he has to get up and leave before he can't. Each step is agony increasing, the thing in his spine trembling ever-harder and then Wade calls his name and he stops, turns, sees those eyes again; pleading, desperate. A rush of emotion slams into his hindbrain, it feels half foreign and half his own; don't do this can't do this without you please stay please stay stay stay stay let me stay stay stay "Come home with me," Wade blurts out, and Logan finds that he's taken steps toward Wade without realizing it, closing the yawning gap between them, and the thing in his spine relaxes just a little. "Okay," he says. (In which something very interesting happens underneath the Time Ripper, and Wade and Logan deal with the aftermath.)

(they vulcan mind melded and now can't live without the other. i just love this author's writing and i read every one of their d&w fics. i'm in love with their characterization of not just d&w but the rest of the cast as well! and the banter and genuinely fun interactions between d&w has me kicking my feet and giggling like a school girl. please read, i totally recommend this fic and the rest of the author's other fics XD)

your fool in this game for two by abillionstars

Ship: Logan | Worst Wolverine/Wade Wilson

“Have you ever lived with anyone before?” At Wade’s question, Logan pauses to think. Scratches his balls for a second, and says, “I lived at Xavier’s school for a while, before I left. Lived in a clapboard boarding house about seventy years back. A couple of times, I slept in a park with other people nearby. Do those count?” “That was a rhetorical question,” says Wade. “Some might even call it an accusatory one. Mostly because—dude. I’m a fucking mess. But you’re even worse.” (two loser loners, falling in love.)

(this is crack. the peak of romance, the very height of big squishy feelings. it's perfect. god, i am utterly trash for this fic, it's so fucking good fnewiofpew)

Love You All Over by FinelyDressedSpacemen

Ship: Logan | Worst Wolverine/Wade Wilson

The bad guys have love spells now, apparently. Logan gets nailed. Wade tries not to. With great power over your sexiest friend comes great emotional responsibility.

(where wade tries his best to respect logan and logan makes this, so freaking hard for him lmao. lovesick logan is truly the most flirty version of wolverine and it's incredible. it's like if hugh jackman himself is trying to romance the shit out of you. wade really is the stronger person, incredible. anyway, this was a joy to read and if you like musicals, this is definitely for you <3)

I'm the worst at what I do by Thestarvedghost

Ship: Logan | Worst Wolverine/Wade Wilson

Logan finds out from Wade after everything is said and done, universes saved and friends met, that most hims across the multiverse have some sort of memory issue, one way or another. Logan wishes he was that fucking lucky. He remembers it all.

Part 1 of No end and no beginning

(i recommend this entire series, the progression on d&w's relationship has me singing! it's so sweet and fluffy! well, as fluffy as 2 murderous, self-hating bastards can be anyway lol.)

-

[Dimension 20] (Fantasy High, A Court of Fey and Flowers, A Crown of Candy)

interchange by fangirl_squee

Fandom: Fantasy High

Oh, the Bad Kids? Yeah, in that group they have [checks notes] a pirate cleric, a goblin bard, a Helioic fighter, an elven barbarian, a tiefling rogue, and a half-orc wizard.

(it's so interesting how different yet the same the bad kids are even with their class changes. man, the idea of fabian being a freaking cleric still makes me want to cackle. he'd be so much more Exasperated by the bad kids, especially freshman fabian X'D. also barbarian adaine has my whole fucking heart.)

yeah you held me the whole way through, when i couldn’t say the words like you by zedif_y

Fandom: Fantasy High

Ship: Riz Gukgak/Fabian Aramais Seacaster

When Fabian is ten, his Papa tells him the story of how he married his mother. It’s a gory tale, one that involves a cut eye and bodies hitting the deck. He tells Fabian of a love that sent him to his knees, that leads a man like him– fearsome and powerful, the greatest pirate to ever live– to start a family. A love that gave him Fabian. --- A study on Fabian, grief, and, ultimately— love.

(an exploration on fabian's idea of what love is. god, it's so well written. i love this fic and absolutely recommend it! <3)

white knuckles by thathastu

Fandom: Fantasy High

Ships: Fabian/everyone (but all unrequited)

His ex-fling’s little sister. Two people in committed relationships who also happen to be in the same mega famous rock band. A heartbroken lesbian who doesn’t want to be involved with men in any way. And Riz fucking Gukgak. Fabian Aramais Seacaster, son of Bill Seacaster, finds himself falling for all of his friends.

(seeing the bad kids through fabian's eyes made me realize why the bad kids would be considered attractive to people who know them! it's so sweet how much fabian cares and pays attention to them and the constant feeling of 'oh no oh no' both made me want to laugh and coo at him lmao)

life in a wallflower garden with my friends by sickoflosiingsoulmates for lesbiansweetflips

Fandom: Fantasy High

Ship: Ayda Aguefort/Figueroth Faeth

This is what Ayda has spent her entire life searching after. This is what she built the friendship section in the library in hopes of, what she spent long, lonely nights dreaming of. A night with a friend, a true friend, laughing and talking about nothing in particular. [or, ayda finds friends in the bad kids]

(ayda has friends! ayda has frieeenndss!! i'm so so in love with her and this fic is so fluffy and sweet! gah, instant shot of endorphins, guarantee!)

allies and fealty, or, on finding the first knight of the new Court of Craft by fangirl_squee

Fandom: A Court of Fey and Flowers

Ship: Binx Choppley/Captain K. P. Hob

The enemy of my enemy is kind of my friend. Or something.

(i'm always a sucker for rare pairs and man, this is something i didn't even know i wanted. i love how slowly and carefully they build trust in each other, especially binx who is so secretive and initiated this relationship in the first place. by the end, i completely bought this ship and the potential for it.)

I've walked a fragile line and I've fallen down by jadeandquartz

Fandom: A Crown of Candy

Anger is burning in Lapin’s chest. It is bitter, and it is bloody, and it shines brighter than any Bulb the church might care to invent. Normally, he leaves his emotions be. He cannot afford to let feelings drive him forwards. Remaining logical is the only safe way to play the game of politics - and if you do not play it safe, you die. And if you die, then what was the point? But nothing about their predicament is normal. So, fuck playing the game safely. Fuck that. The world will not play safe with the lives of those he loves. *** In which Belizabeth Brassica is looking for a heretic, and Lapin confesses to his apostasy to protect the House of Rocks.

(one of the first crown of candy fics i read and i never looked back. lapin survive stories makes me so feral and god i love this cantankerous bunny so so much fnewiofewp)

to leave this all behind (halo round his head) by grumpyhedgehogs

Fandom: A Crown of Candy

Lapin blinks slowly at Brassica as she steps up to the bars of his cell, the guards splitting around her like so much water over a stone. He inclines his head, trying for regal and probably failing. “Heretic.” Her voice grates against his eardrums. “You have awakened.” “Zealot. You haven’t killed me.” Lapin replies, dry.

(another, much longer fic where lapin survives and i'm so in love with how much detail and fantastic characterization this fic has, not just for lapin but for the whole cast! the day i stop loving the lapin survives trope is the day i die.)

-

[The Terror] (yeah, i know, extremely random, and yet here we are. it's due to this animatic here that i was introduced to this show in the first place. def recommend both the show and this artist *thumbs up*)

I'll be Homeward Bound in Time by clandestinegardenias

Ship: Francis Crozier/James Fitzjames

Back in the Arctic, stuffed two to a sleeping sack and trying to keep each other alert, he and James used to name every good type of thing they would eat when they got back, knowing–as they thought–the time would never come. 'Cream puffs', James had sighed one frigid night in a partial feverish delirium. Francis could hardly see him but for the lightest starlight, yet he had heard the smile evident in his voice all the same. That close, he had nearly felt it. --- Hailed as heroes on their miraculous return to England, Francis and James fail to cope, but nonetheless manage to fall together.

(i love how warm they are here, how clearly these two depend on one another and find joy despite the fact london is trying it's best to stamp out this closeness. post-rescue is always such an interesting time where they get to reflect and be traumatized by what happened in the arctic and the lack of understanding that is found when they go home. it's done so well here and man, i just love these two together. the ship that sails their ships lmao)

death is a sailing ship by Maleann

Ship: Francis Crozier/James Fitzjames

"James had died knowing that his heart, the core of his very being that no biographer would ever know, would carry on in Francis Crozier. Would be protected, cherished even, because Francis deemed him worthy of such care. Oh, how he had loved Francis then. He had been at peace with this being his last living thought. It’s his only thought now. In this undead life, his love has nowhere to go."  ___ James Fitzjames wakes up in the Afterlife. It looks strangely similar to his cabin on Erebus. (Updated with amazing artwork by Marella!)

(the fic is so!! kind!!! to all its characters! and fitzjames is in full form here, i love how it's him that's trying so hard to take care of his men, despite sir john and his lack of empathy. to have fitzjames damn what is proper and trying to do his best as always even in the freaking afterlife, god. you can just see how much fitzjames changed from the beginning of the show to his end in this fic. how all the characters changed, really. every character here is given room to heal and face the consequences of their actions and there were moments that it seriously made me cry. this is my fave fic in this entire list, it just does an amazing job of showing compassion to all its characters and i love it.)

there but for the grace of- by TheGoodDoctor

Ship: Francis Crozier/James Fitzjames

“I wish you would stop being such a martyr,” a languid voice says quietly, drawling as well as a man can with two missing molars and a glassy, bloodshot eye, leaking all the while from open chest wounds. Francis is rather impressed with his dedication to the role, somewhere under the roil of fury and exhaustion. “You know as well as I do that you could have this bed sometimes, if it didn’t suit you to stomp about with blacked eyes and a put-upon expression.” “And what should we do with you all the while, Commander,” he says, all on a great sigh, “wrap you in sailcloth already? Come, man, you’re either well enough to cease bleeding on my sheets or too ill to get out of them, you can’t have it both ways.” “Francis,” Ross began, “I did not undertake to accept the position of second on Franklin’s expedition for you, as you asked.”

(this fic scratched a brain itch i didn't even know i had. it's so interesting to think about, the idea of crozier not being on the expedition and instead being the person who rescues them instead. fitzjames and crozier actually developing a relationship based on this premise, without the shared trauma, is so so intriguing to me and i wish i had more of this. also, the fact crozier is so much more mentally healthier than canon due to ross makes me want to laugh and cry. god, if only.)

out of the sea came he, still hid in mist by dazydaisy for shortcrust

Ship: Francis Crozier/James Fitzjames

You make bargains you cannot keep. You make promises you plan to break. You give things that are not yours to give.

(a haunting, magical realism fic that feels like a gothic fairy tale. exactly my kind of fic! and if it's yours? definitely a good read *thumbs up*)

At Civil Twilight by lieutenant_iceberg

“Well,” said Francis. “Jopson, will you see what you can do with this three-year-old peace offering? A cup for each of us, and one for you.” “Sir,” said Jopson, collecting one of the bags. “You’ll be up all night if you take coffee now.” “I’ll be up all night anyway. Go, Jopson, go.” When he was gone, Francis got up from the table, and they stared into the depths of the bag together. Finally, Francis cleared his throat and said, “All right, then, James. How have you fared since I hit you?” A few days after Carnivale, Crozier and Fitzjames make a faltering attempt to talk things over.

Part 1 of Civil Twilight

(oooh, the very start of their friendship! how to make peace when their entire relationship is based on animosity and contempt! the dialogue and characterization of these two in this series is so good and i absolutely recommend!)

rebuilding by wildcard_47 for 20thcenturyvole

Ship: Francis Crozier/James Fitzjames

Once they stepped ashore, a fey dark-haired man burst through the crowd a few heads down from Jane Franklin. When Fitzjames saw his brother, he startled, and when Will surged forward in the first press of the crowds around the returned—elfin face wet with tears as he swept James into a fierce embrace—only then did Fitzjames release his grip on Francis’s arm. Only then did Francis feel as if he could step away at last. Written for the 2023 Fall Fitzier Exchange, for the prompt: "Post-canon AU where, once they get home, Crozier and Fitzjames are riddled with guilt and trauma, and deal with their feelings by throwing themselves into caring for the surviving men..."

(i'm always so fascinated by post-rescue stories that actually deal with the aftermath, the logistics of it all. how the characters struggle to handle their own traumas, how they help one another through their experiences, all of it. and how both crozier and fitzjames step up for their men even now, even when they're no longer captains in the arctic and have to deal with london and all it's trappings. this fic handles all that so very well, i love it <3)

As Bullet Speaks to Gun by pointyshades

Ship: Francis Crozier/James Fitzjames, Thomas Jopson/Edward Little

Against all odds, they are rescued. Cornelius Hickey is court-martialed for his mutiny, and the whole mess of the expedition is unfurled in front of the public. With their names being dragged through the mud, Francis Crozier and James Fitzjames reach out to each other. Meanwhile, Thomas Jopson seeks revenge for what he believes is his captain's betrayal, and Edward Little tries to come to terms with the truth.

(yes!! edward little my beloved gets to shine here! and jopson is so bitter and angry and messy, it's great! again, i love fics that tackle what would happen post-rescue and how london would react to it. the trials, both actual and mental, they have to face in order to move on and be happy (oh please oh please) is handled expertly and i love it! crozier/fitzjames ship is a little more background in this fic compared to jopson/little, but honestly? i'm so sucked into the latter ship that it doesn't matter. both ships are written very well here and again, my beloved edward little is glorious in this fic and i love it! you go edward! woohoo!!!)

Principles of Magnetism (a Comedy of Manners) by acaramelmacchiato

Ship: Francis Crozier/James Fitzjames

The one where they're married but it's still Victorian times and also it's an accident.

(you don't understand, this fic is so fucking funny. it's so goddamn victorian and sir john is so jane-austen-silly-characters coded. i want to both shake his hand for making this premise happen in the first place, and punch him in his punchable face. and crozier is perfectly characterized here, i can visually picture his disgruntled expressions so clearly in my mind, it's incredible.)

Thaw by orphan_account

Ship: Francis Crozier/James Fitzjames, Past Captain Francis Crozier/Sophia Cracroft

Courteous, charming Fitzjames, whittled down to maturity by the North, and being there, very obviously, not as Francis's right-hand man or as his comrade, but as his mate; a soulmate. Sophia had no need to look at Francis’s face, at the discoloration that would have turned one of his blue eyes into the good-coffee brown of Fitzjames's, to know it, so blatant and luminous a thing it was.

Part 1 of A Victorian Soulmate AU

(very interesting fic where one can choose their soulmates, choose who they want to bond with for life. and the fact it's sophia's pov and how she deals with this fact is handled so carefully and full of goodwill. it makes me want to applaud. i love how clear it is that they're grown ass adults willing to discuss and make peace with one another because they're all genuinely good people who want happiness both for others and themselves. this fic feels like a flower that you hold in your hands to admire it's beauty and delicacy.)

And It Is Now, And It Is Here by 20thcenturyvole, pointyshades

Ship: Francis Crozier/James Fitzjames

Before the ships are trapped in the ice, James Fitzjames sees a terrible vision of the future, a harbinger of his own death. Before the ships are trapped in the ice, Francis Crozier is visited by a tender apparition, an angel wearing James Fitzjames' face. They are both seeing the same vision. Whether they can heed its warning is another matter entirely.

(when the ghost of your future haunts you, you better believe it changes to the plot. i love the dichotomy of how crozier and fitzjames reacts to ghost fitzjames! it's so interesting and i was on the edge of my seat the entire time i read this. if you want to know how it all ends, please read! i promise this fic is a ride you want to get on.)

Waistcoats! or, Life Before the Passage by sadsparties

Ship: Francis Crozier/James Fitzjames, Lady Ann Ross/Sir James Clark Ross, Lt Henry T. D. Le Vesconte/Original Character

Commander James Fitzjames of the Royal Navy is the Best Man that a best friend could ever ask for. A chance meeting forces him to share his arctic expedition duties with one Captain Francis R. M. Crozier, and perhaps other duties as well.

(listen, the terror is a horror show and i both want and need lighthearted fics in order to deal with all the horrors lol. but seriously, this fic was genuinely just fun to read and i love the banter and slowly developing friendship and relationship between crozier and fitzjames! truly the romantic comedy fic in this fandom. XD)

[riveroftales]

He might be a little OC and I’m really sorry. It’s my first time writing him (｡╥﹏╥｡)

Constructive criticism to help improve his character is greatly appreciated! (ˊ˘ˋ*)

ғᴇᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

𝘾𝙒! 𝖵𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝗎𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾

Bodyguard!Muzan who only accepted the job because he literally had nothing better to do.

Bodyguard!Muzan who, despite the suit being a little tight, didn’t complain because he looked good.

Bodyguard!Muzan who always did his job perfectly with a scowl on his face.

Bodyguard!Muzan who didn’t care about your status and refused to answer personal questions about himself.

Bodyguard!Muzan who regrettably learned that you were a singer because his curiosity killed the cat, resulting in him being dragged to one of your concerts as a VIP guest for free.

Bodyguard!Muzan who caged you in his arms as he helped you get past an enormous crowd of fans when you simply wanted to use the bathroom.

Bodyguard!Muzan who entered the ladies room with you to guard your stall because of the several incidents you previously had of fans trying to break in.

Bodyguard!Muzan who grunted when you dragged him to a small, local restaurant to treat him as a ‘thank you.’

Bodyguard!Muzan who nibbled on the grilled beef to stay focused at the surroundings despite the meal being one of the best he had.

Bodyguard!Muzan who was beyond pissed when you kept on leaning against him, slurred and mixed words leaving your soft and glossy lips as he carried your drunken state back to your house.

Bodyguard!Muzan who took off your shoes and accessories (even gently removing your makeup) while undressing you and helping you slip in your pyjamas before gently placing you on your bed, tucking you in like a child.

Bodyguard!Muzan who neatly folds your clothes and kept them in your closet, taking his payment by stealing one of your panties and shoving it in his pocket.

Bodyguard!Muzan who takes care of you through your horrible hangover.

Bodyguard!Muzan who slowly starts to enjoy being part of the audience of your concerts.

Bodyguard!Muzan who glares at every pathetic fans who look like they’d cream their pants just by gazing at you when they get their autographs.

Bodyguard!Muzan who instantly comes to your rescue when he sees you getting harassed by a man.

Bodyguard!Muzan who grabs your waist to pull you away from the assaulter and calls him your boyfriend, knowing the man wouldn’t take him seriously if he introduced himself as your bodyguard.

Bodyguard!Muzan who ‘proves’ his point by shoving his tongue in your mouth when he notices the man glaring at you two from a few meters away a few minutes later, tasting your cherry-cola lips.

Bodyguard!Muzan who knew he fucked up when he realised he couldn’t stop kissing you. Your lips were too sweet.

Bodyguard!Muzan who had to pinch himself so he could finally pull away, lying to you saying that other people were staring at you in a way he knew would make you uncomfortable.

Bodyguard!Muzan who started warming up more and more.

Bodyguard!Muzan who you realised had the prettiest smile.

Bodyguard!Muzan who you fell hard for when he saw the fan mail you received and commented on it.

“Tch. Does this bastard know you like bluebells? Also you don’t even like dark chocolate.” He scoffed as he went through your special fan mail with you. His comment made you freeze up slightly.

“Excuse me?” You managed to chuckle out. “Thought you said you weren’t interested in anything related to me when you started working?”

“When I started, you brat.” He flicked your forehead. “You’ve gotten a little more tolerable.”

“Then does this mean we’re on a first-name basis, Muzan?” Your eyes lit up as you leaned on him, your chin on his shoulder as you pouted up at him.

You successfully earn a soft chuckle from him.

“Don’t get your hopes too high up, asshole.” He ruffled your hair. “I’m gonna go get food. You want anything..” he stayed silent for a bit before ruffling your hair again. “..Y/n?”

He saw the fondness in your eyes. “You know my favourite, don’t you?”

He smiled. “Coming right up.”

Bodyguard!Muzan who got yelled at by Daki and Douma multiple times to simply suck it up, be a man, and confess to you before it was too late.

Bodyguard!Muzan who himself couldn’t believe he listened to them when he poured his heart out to you.

Bodyguard!Muzan who got your lips on his as your answer for his confession.

Bodyguard!Muzan who didn’t need to be paid anymore. He continued going to the gym, almost never missing a day to get stronger so he could protect his family. After all, he made to himself he would protect you and your daughter 6 years prior on your wedding night.

[konigenblobbity]

your angst is so UGHHHHH AMAZING. im literally reading every single thing on your masterlist. i need more hobie hurt/comfort or miguel or anyone actually idc who it is i just love your writingggg. maybe like they’ve had a bad day and reader tries to help but instead they get annoyed and say sum ab then being annoying n never shutting up and reader gets quiet after and stuff. although i’ll literally read anything you put out thank you!!!

Request: Out of Line [Hobie]

Hobie x GN!Reader

—> [Miguel’s Version]

Warnings: Angst, yelling, insults, sad reader, comforting, crying, cursing

A/n: Such kind praise anon literally tysm. I love writing angst, it’s just fun to make characters suffer :) but yes! This idea is so good. I also made one for Miguel. enjoy meine Lieben!

You were sat next to Hobie on the couch, an arm wrapped around his shoulder while the other sat on his thigh. Your gaze sympathetic and kind as you looked at your boyfriend, body slumped over from exhaustion and disappointment. His elbows were resting on his knees, head resting on his hands as he was lost in his thoughts, still frustrated from todays mission.

Once he entered and slammed the door, you know the mission went wrong. He had been unexpectedly pulled away that afternoon when Miguel said it was an emergency. Hobie left with a smile and kiss goodbye… only to return with a grimace and a set of gritted teeth.

The only thing he told you was that he was responsible for losing sight of the anomaly and Miguel gave him an earful for it.

So there you were, comforting and reassuring your boyfriend with your words, throwing praises onto him like a crazed fan girl. “You are absolutely phenomenal Hobie. Don’t ever question that. No matter how much Miguel scolds you or criticizes you, you are an amazing part of the team that Miguel is lucky to have” you wouldn’t stop.

In your mind you saw that as a good thing… that Hobie would appreciate how you showered him with affection, but truly it was getting on his nerves. Wishing he could’ve just come home and forgotten all about Miguel and the mission, but no… now he had to hear about it at home too.

“You’re an amazing spider-man, one of the best that spider society has! Remember when you took care of that prowler anomaly single handedly? Or that green goblin anomaly from last week? Miguel didn’t seem to thank you for that if I remember! Now he suddenly decides to get up in your business?!” With each word you were giving him a soft caress on his shoulder or gently shaking his thigh.

His shoulder tensed under your hand, you thought it was because of an injury but if you only knew what really had him so irritated. His eyes were clenching shut, trying to fight the part of him that calls your voice annoying and yells at him to tell you to shut up… because he knows you’re trying, and usually he loves it! Oftentimes the only thing that helps is when your voice rambles on and envelops him like a warm embrace.

“Im gonna say it! Miguel should just keep his mouth shut I think! He-“ you were ready to say another whole soliloquy before Hobie’s voice cut through your own “No you should! I swear all you do is ramble and it drives me up the fucking wall. So just shut it!” His tone was laced with venom, every word a jab to your heart.

His head was turned to look at you with unforgiving eyes, burning with an unbridled rage that you knew wasn’t aimed at you… but it still felt personal. He lets out a light chuckle and when he smiles maliciously it, had your skin crawling. “After todays mission I want some peace and quiet. The sound of your voice is doing my head in. So do me a favor and take your own advice.”

You slowly pull away your hands, noticing how his body relaxes slightly when you do, which only made you more upset. “O-oh… okay” your voice was soft, but clearly shaken. After that you sit in silence for a few minutes, the only audible sound being Hobie sighing every once in a while.

Every second of silence is another second of you pondering and recounting what Hobie said to you. Playing it over in your head until you felt your eyes begin to gloss over. You take that as your sign to leave, clearing your throat and mumbling out a soft “i-I’ll see you upstairs” before leaving without another word.

Hobie stayed downstairs for a bit longer, organizing his thoughts and using the silence to quell his irritation. He then had the opportunity to think back on what he said to you. Cursing into his palm when he realizes just how harsh he got with you.

This wasn’t the first time… he often got harsh and lost his filter when he was in a bad mood; you always understood that. Whenever he’d go off on you, you never took it personally, understanding that he was in a bad mood or a poor state.

He’d always come up to you later and apologize for what he said, and he was lucky because you always understood and forgave him. Afterwards he’d cuddle up with you, telling you all about the terrible day he had or how horrible his mission went. You were always there to comfort him, listening to every word.

This time was different though. He didn’t just make an offhanded comment about how he wanted silence or how you weren’t helping, he made it personal by insulting your voice, a part of yourself that he usually loved and was now suddenly deeming as headache inducing.

When Hobie eventually went upstairs, he found you sitting in bed, back against the headboard, looking at your phone, not even sparing him a glance. He walked over and sat on the edge of his side of the bed, placing a hand on your thigh. You didn’t react so he took the time to apologize.

“Hey love… look, I’m sorry for what I said earlier. Todays mission just left me absolutely gutted and I just felt right shit. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. It was just really rough and I fucked up bad” his hand absentmindedly caresses your thigh as he spoke. You didn’t move and just let out a hum in response.

He paused and hesitated before speaking “I-I’m really sorry…. I didn’t mean it love. You know that right?” he leans forward and goes to kiss your lips, you turn your head so kiss lands on your cheek instead. He was slightly surprised but more disappointed. He decided not to press the topic though. “alright… I’m gonna go get ready and I’ll be back” he says and walks off to the bathroom.

When he comes back out, you’d shifted to be lying on your side, back to him, as if you’re ready to go to sleep. As he gets into the bed behind you, he notices how your eyes are still open and you were just looking at your phone.

He leans over your figure “Love? A-are we not gonna cuddle?” his voice was soft, you could hear the slight pout in his voice. To his question you shake your head, he moved onto his side of the bed and positioned himself to sit against the headboard.

“Oh… can I tell you about my mission though?” you could hear the dejection in his tone but managed to brush it off. You shrug causing Hobie to hesitate, but after a pause he begins to tell you about the mission, going on and on, but never once do you react.

“And then, that prick just threw a sign at me! A goddamn sign, can you believe that?” He looked over at your figure waiting for a response, waiting for you to agree with him or encourage him to continue talking as you usually did, but you still don’t say a word.

He clears his throat at the silence “b-but it really hurt and my shoulders still sore because of it” he continued to complain hoping you’d break your vow of silence but he still got nothing. He can see you’re still awake which causes him to huff out in disappointment, a pout forming on his lips. He shifts on the bed and placed his chin to rest on your arm.

“Love? Why’d you go so quiet?” He watched your expression, it didn’t shift and you just continued to scroll through your phone. There was a pause and then he spoke again. “Was it because of what I said earlier?” You stop scrolling on your phone and he takes that as a sign that he guessed right.

“God… love I didn’t know it hurt you that bad. I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have said it and I didn’t mean it. Not even the slightest bit” he wraps his arm around your waist trying to pull you back against his chest. Much to his relief you didn’t struggle or try to move away, allowing him to pull you against his chest.

“I love the sound of your voice, I look forward to hearing it after every mission. I was just really irritated and I snapped at you for no reason” you put your phone down but still don’t look or speak to him. He let out a soft sigh and the hand on your waist began to trace soft circles on your skin.

“I’ll keep apologizing as long as it takes for you to speak again. I miss your voice love. Please… even if it’s quiet? I wanna hear it” he placed a kiss on your shoulder, and kept it nuzzled against your arm as he waited patiently.

“You said it drives you up the wall…” a smile graced his lips as you finally spoke, it was a soft murmur but it was something. He places another kiss on your shoulder “Thats not true, I was being stupid. You have every right to be upset with me, it was a daft thing to say and I was being a proper prick” you hum softly in agreement, which he took as a sign of encouragement.

He continued to place kisses on your arm and shoulder “You agree don’t you? Hm?” He says and you shrug, a small smile beginning to appear on your lips. His arm wraps further around your waist, beginning to roll you onto your back as his playful kisses moved to your neck. “Cmon you can say it, I was being stupid, I was being a prick… go on” he had a smirk on his face as he kissed at your jaw.

You chuckle softly and then look into his eyes, a smile now settled on your lips. “You really were. The biggest prick I’ve ever met” you say and he pulls away and gives you a fake pout. “Ouch… now that hurts” you roll your eyes and he chuckles softly. He leans back down and begins to pepper kisses all over you face.

“I’m really sorry love” he says and pulls away to look at you with a gentle smile. You sigh out but smile at him. “I believe you” You shift slightly so you’re sitting back against the headboard “but what I can’t believe…” you begin to say and Hobie looks at you curiously.

“Is that that goddamn anomaly threw a sign at you?!” You say exaggerating your shock but loving the smile that it puts on Hobie’s face. “I know!” He say and moves to rest his head against your lap. Letting go of your waist and intertwining his hand with yours to wrap them around his shoulders.

For the rest of that night he recounted his mission to you, every small detail and every tiny slip up, but this time you actually reacted. And every time you spoke his heart sang at the sound of your voice.