#jenny green x reader
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oooh wait do you write for jenny? If so, maybe a jenny x reader where they meet post maxine incident and it’s like angst to fluff bc jenny doesn’t want to open back up to the idea of love after what happened with maxine but she really likes reader (maybe she’s a frequent at the butcher shop) sorry I’m bad at leaving reqs I’m just in love with jenny
a/n: i LOVE Jenny, and lets be honest, she was absolutely DONE with all the bullshit pairing: Jenny Green x gn! reader
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Jenny was so done with love and her love life.
she never truly liked love anyway, everyone always seemed to dissapoint her one way or another.
and then, she had that date with Maxine, and everything went so well!
they got along great, but ofcourse, there was a catch.
Maxine turned out to be a creepy stalker, even going as far as to attempt to murder Jenny the moment she told Maxine to leave. and then, right before her eyes, Maxine fell on some kind of spike on the table and died.
Jenny was convinced that love wasn't for her.
you, however, seemed to have different plans.
you've been a regular in the butcher shop for a pretty long time, always coming in atleast once a week for some meet.
you always seemed so happy to see her, which made her annoyed.
why were you always smiling the moment you spotted her? why did you always ask how she was doing? why were you making small talk?
after the whole ordeal with Maxine, you still came in, despite most of the customers that used to come there no longer came in, either scared or weirded out.
yet you still came in, even more often now.
again, you came in today.
"hi Jenny! how are you doing today?" you said in your usual, cheerful, caring tone.
it didnt sound like the usual 'i'm just being polite' tone most people used, you really sounded like you genuinely wanted to know.
"how the fuck are you always so happy?" Jenny finally asked in her usual, annoyed tone.
"i guess i'm just happy whenever i see you" you answered.
"why? i'm litterly never really polite to you, i don't even smile at you, why would you be happy to see me?" Jenny really did want to know, though she kept up the fake 'i don't give a shit' tone and expression.
you stay silent now, your smile falling ever so slightly, which in turn makes Jenny feel just a little guilty. "sorry, didn't mean to ruin your mood" she mumbles as she pretends to be busy cleaning the counter to avoid having to look at you.
truth be told, you always stood out to her, your grin stuck in her mind.
but, she's been out of love for so long, she didn't want to take the risk.
and since Maxine... she put the thought out of her head pretty fast.
"you know, you've always been pretty interesting to me" you start of. "you always seem so tough, so strong, so secure in yourself and what you do..." "at first i thought i just wanted to be like you, but then, the more i saw you, the more i realized i didn't want to be you, i wanted to be with you" you look down, towards the floor.
"you don't have to say you like me back, you don't even have to pretend to be interested, i just thought... i thought maybe you'd like to know, especially since what happened before, i thought maybe it'd be nice to know there are people out there who aren't as crazy as that..."
she sighs, finally looking at you for a moment before walking around the counter towards you.
"look, i do find you interesting" she starts, a little awkwardly as you look at her.
"and i do want to give you a chance, but you do have to understand, i'm not about to magically open up to you and tell you everything about my life, okay? it's gonna take more time than just one night"
you grin, "can i hug you now?" you ask, nearly bouncing with excitement.
she nods, a reluctant smile of her own shining through as you practically leap into her arms.
maybe love really isn't so bad after all...
#jenny green#jenny the butcher#dead boy detectives#jenny green x reader#jenny the butcher x reader#dead boy detectives x reader
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Dead Boy Detectives Masterlist
♥︎Edwin Payne
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♥︎Charles Rowland
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♥︎Crystal Palace
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♥︎Niko Sasaki
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♥︎Jenny Green
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♥︎Thomas The Cat King
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♥︎Monty The Crow
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♥︎Esther Finch
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♥︎Night Nurse
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♥︎David the Demon
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Feel free to ask about other characters!
#edwin payne x reader#charles rowland x reader#crystal palace x reader#niko sasaki x reader#jenny the butcher#jenny the butcher x reader#cat king x reader#thomas the cat king#monty the crow#monty x reader#monty the crow x reader#esther finch x reader#night nurse#night nurse x reader#david the demon#jenny green#jenny green x reader
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SPIDER-VERSE
lee minho x spider-woman!reader
✩ SYNOPSIS: han y/n is a college student and quiet girl, she also has a secret identity, spider-woman. her best friends don’t even know that she’s the one saving people and putting away villains.
✩ PAIRING: lee minho x female!reader
✩ WARNING: character death, suggestive themes, violence, profanity, alcohol use, mentions of parents death
✩ GENRE: spider-man au, friends to lovers, miscommunication, crack, fluff, angst, fake texts, written
✩ TAGLIST: open!!!
[friends][villains]
01: call to duty
#stray kids#fluff#lee minho x reader#lee minho#lee know#lee felix#lee know x reader#yang jeongin#shin ryujin#kang yeosang#bangchan#kim jennie#jake enhypen#han jisung#spider man au#venom#green goblin#sandman#dr octopus#smau#skz#angst
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Requests
I am currently taking dead boy detective requests. I take MONTY!!!! Charles, Edwin, crystal, Niko, Jenny, and any other characters you can’t think of. I super bummed about the show’s cancellation but I will be keeping this fandom alive!!!!!!!! I will also be continuing my Monty x reader fic and I’m planing a sleeping beauty au after I finish it.
#dead boy detectives#dead boy detectives x reader#monty the crow x reader#monty finch x reader#edwin payne x reader#charles rowland x reader#crystal palace x reader#niko sasaki x reader#Jenny green#ester finch
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‘THE BEST MAN’ — CHRISTOPHER STURNIOLO
pairing. christopher sturniolo x fem!reader genre. fluff, smut
word count. 7.1k
❝this is a wedding! i'm trying to be classy today!❞
content warnings. plot with smut, explicit content, sex with a stranger(?), oral (male receiving), unprotected sex, bathroom sex, riding, dirty talk,
authors note. not sure if i wrote chris well :/ but first chris fic on the blog yay, i hope you enjoy
You remember the first day you met Jennie: her soft hair curled in waves down her back, the rosy red tint on the apples of her cheeks from the cold weather, and how her smile and eyes gleamed when she introduced her twelve-year-old self to you at the playground. She was dressed in a sage green sweatshirt and jeans, and even though it was a simple outfit choice, you couldn’t deny how gorgeous she looked in it.
You remember the first day you witnessed Jennie suffer through her first heartbreak; her hair thrown up messily with strands framing her face, her eyes were puffy and wet, and her chapped lips were curled into a frown. She had a sage green blanket wrapped around her form as she sat in her room, surrounded by endless amounts of tissues that were scattered from the door to her bed.
It’s crazy, you thought. Even at that moment, she still looked gorgeous.
You remember the first day Jennie had met ‘the one’: her hair tied back into a sleek ponytail, her eyes adorned with glittery makeup, and her lips full and glossy. She wore sage green jewellery that dangled from her ears and around her neck. Her cheeks were flushed a soft pink as she locked eyes with a man at the grocery store, and a shy grin formed on her lips as she kept her gaze on his, completely mesmerised by his appearance. Despite her nervousness, she still looked gorgeous.
Today will be another unforgettable day—her wedding day.
You’re captivated by her beauty: her hair is curled in waves down her back, just like the day you first met her, with strands framing her face. Her makeup is light and gentle, her eyes shining with excitement as she patiently waits for the makeup artist to apply the finishing touches. Her body is covered in the most beautiful sage green wedding dress you have ever seen.
“Are you going to cry?” Jennie’s voice teases you as she meets your eyes in the reflection of the mirror, and her bottom lip forms into a playful pout. “Because if you start crying, I’ll start crying.”
The makeup artist tuts, pointing her brush at you warningly. “No crying.”
You laugh and gently pat under your eyes, hoping not to feel any moisture. “I’m not going to cry. You look gorgeous, that’s all.”
“Thank you,” Jennie smiles softly in response to the compliment, expressing her appreciation. She also gives a quiet thanks to the makeup artist who had just finished touching up her face. Jennie leans forward to take a good look at herself in the mirror, pleased with the results. “My mother wasn’t too happy about me going for a coloured theme instead of the traditional white wedding, though.”
“It’s your wedding. You do whatever you want,” You reassure her, briefly glancing down at your silk, cream bridesmaid dress and smoothing your hands over the material. “Sage green has always been your colour, anyways. I would’ve been surprised if it wasn’t included in your wedding.”
Jennie beams in response, “Right! But on top of that, my dad wasn’t happy either. He wanted a traditional wedding in a church… He’s not exactly thrilled to be invited to his only child greenhouse wedding.”
“This wedding is for you and Justin, not your parents,” You say with a straight face, clearly not impressed with her parents' thoughts towards the special day. “If anyone needs to be happy and satisfied, it’s you two.”
“Well, I would be even happier if you brought a date—”
You interject, deadpanning, “Are you seriously bringing this up again?”
“It’s my wedding!” Jennie whines, turning around in her chair to face you with a pout. “How could you not bring a date? What happened to the guy you were speaking to on Tinder? I thought things were going well with him!”
You immediately scoff at the mention of him, shaking your head. “He was completely obsessed with talking about himself that I could barely get a word in, and he was constantly glued to his phone, looking at his ex-girlfriend’s social media posts. Hard pass.”
Jennie purses her lips in deep thought, absentmindedly playing with the end of her curls as she contemplates. You observe her, knowing that look all too well—the look of an idea brewing in her head or a plan already forming.
You prepare yourself to immediately disagree with whatever she’s about to suggest. However, before anything spills out, the door to the room slides open, revealing Jennie’s mother, who gasps at the sight of her daughter.
Taking it as your cue to give them some privacy, you announce quietly that you’re going to step outside for some fresh air. You briefly greet Jennie’s mother, offering a gentle rub on her arm as you pass by, and allow the door to slide shut behind you.
You take this as your cue to leave, wanting the two to be alone and experience a moment together. You mumble to Jennie that you’re going to step outside for some fresh air before giving a quick greeting to her mother, rubbing her arm gently as you slip past, allowing the door to slide shut behind you.
The exhale you breathe out is deep, and your heels click against the marble flooring of the building as you make your way outside and into the sun, the warm rays shining down, and you shield your eyes with your hand to block the bright beams. You gaze over at the greenhouse conservatory where guests are mingling outside or taking their seats inside.
A smile forms on your face as you spot familiar faces, waving to a few old classmates Jennie had invited, and you begin to walk towards them, intending to give them a warm welcome. But as you take a step forward, your right foot twists beneath you, your heel becoming lodged in a crack in the concrete below.
You smile when you see a few people you recognise, waving at a few old classmates that Jennie had invited and you go to walk towards them to give them all a proper welcome, until your right foot twists beneath you, your heel getting caught in the crack of the concrete below you.
A panicked ‘Holy shit!’ escapes from the side, and a hand reaches out, grabbing hold of your bicep to steady you and prevent any further damage. You wince at the slight twinge of pain in your ankle, but you’re relieved to find that nothing seems to be broken when you look down. You mutter curses under your breath for wearing heels that you’re not used to walking in.
You turn your head to thank your rescuer, expecting to see them chuckling at your clumsiness, but you’re taken aback when you see a boy with messy, brunette hair staring at you with wide, startled light blue eyes and his mouth agape.
His attractive appearance catches your attention, and since he’s an unfamiliar face, you’re intrigued to know who he is and what connection he might have to the wedding. But before you can utter a word, he breaks the silence between you both.
“You literally almost died.”
Your brow raises in amusement, “That’s a little dramatic.”
“No, I’m dead serious. It was a Final Destination moment waiting to happen. Ankle snapped in half, face smashed to the ground, all mangled, blood everything… I swear, I had the visions, dude.”
You blink, taken aback by his vivid imagination. “You have an interesting way with words.”
The corner of his lips curls into a mischievous grin. “And you have an interesting way of walking.”
“Touché,” You respond, pursing your lips as you glance down at your heels with a soft hum. “I blame them. They’re difficult to walk in.”
He chuckles, his eyes lingering on your heels for a moment, “I mean, I’d be nice and offer to swap but, uh, I don’t think your shoes go with my outfit.”
You playfully raise an eyebrow at him, taking the opportunity to thoroughly check him out. His white dress shirt is neatly tucked into his black trousers, accentuating his slim waist. His black blazer is left unbuttoned, and the matching coloured tie lays clean and ironed against his chest.
You can’t help but grin, “I don’t know… I think you’d look pretty good in a pair of heels.”
He bursts into genuine laughter, a faint blush colouring his cheeks as he runs his fingers through his hair. He then extends his hand towards you, introducing himself as Chris. You smile and take his hand in yours, introducing yourself in return, and the sound of him softly repeating your name sends a pleasant shiver down your spine.
Chris goes on to explain that he’s one of Justin’s brothers and also one of the best men chosen, mentioning that he’s the youngest triplet. You share with him how you know Jennie and that you’re her only bridesmaid, filling him in on the little details.
He listens intently as you explain your long-standing friendship with Jennie, smiling warmly at you and even adding his own comments about when he first met her, and how well she and Justin are matched, to which you instantly agree.
The conversation between you both flows so smoothly that you’re almost shocked, unable to fully understand how you can feel so comfortable and compatible with someone you’ve just met—you more or less wish you had met someone like Chris on Tinder instead.
“I think the ceremony is about to start,” Chris announces, glancing at his phone to check the time and the messages flooding his screen. He pockets his phone and wets his lips, a grin spreading across his face. He extends his arm towards you, offering it to you. “Can I walk you inside? You know, just in case you trip over your heels again or something.”
Feeling a bit shy but unable to contain your own grin, you nod in agreement. You slide your arm through his, your hand resting against his bicep. “Just in case, of course.”
The ceremony unfolded before your eyes, and it became the most beautiful moment you’ve ever witnessed.
Tears well up in your eyes as you watch Jennie make her way down the white carpeted aisle, arm in arm with her father, and a radiant smile gracing her lips. She looks absolutely stunning.
The second wave of emotion hits you as you witness the love and happiness between Jennie and Justin. Their whispered vows, the tender embrace, and the loving kiss they share leave you and many others in tears. The guests join in with boisterous claps and heartfelt cheers, celebrating their union.
And then the third, and thankfully final, wave of tears washes over you as the triplets take the stage for their best men’s speech. Chris, in his touching words, comments on the beauty of Jennie and the ceremony. Matt chimes in, expressing that in all the years of being Justin’s brother, he has never seen him this happy, thanking Jennie for the permanent smile on his face. Nick follows suit, expressing his eternal gratitude to her for bringing happiness to his brother’s life.
Third, and thankfully final, wave of waterworks happened when the triplets began their best-men speech, how Chris commented on how beautiful Jennie and the ceremony was, and how Matt was the one to claim that in the many years of being Justin’s brother, he has never seen him this happy and that the permanent smile on his face was all thanks to Jennie, to which Nick followed through and admitted how eternally grateful he would be for her giving his brother his happiness.
You weren’t going to cry again, although the food served at dinner tasted delicious, and you resist the urge to kneel down and praise the chefs for their outstanding work. Instead, you keep your emotions at bay and thank them as they come to clear the plates from your table.
Tess, a shared friend of yours and Jennie’s, strikes up a conversation with you during dinner, reminiscing on past memories and current. Then her eyes get fixed on the happy couple mingling with Justin’s family, and she comments;
“You know, I always knew Jennie would be the first one from our class to get married. I just didn’t expect it to be with someone slightly older,” Tess smacks her red, painted lips together and takes a sip of her wine, nursing the glass in her hand. “She’s always had this aura about her, you know? Meeting the perfect guy young, falling in love, getting married in her twenties, living in a fancy home with a white picket fence, husband, kids—maybe even a dog or two. God, I wish I had my life planned out like that.”
You raise an eyebrow and offer a gentle reminder, “Well, nothing is stopping you. How are things going with you and Ryan?”
Tess gives you a look, “Do you see a ring on my hand?”
“Not yet,” A chuckle leaves your lips, pushing Tess’s hand out of your face as she waves it in front of you.
She laughs, retracting her hand back to tuck her hair behind her ears. “What about you? Have you been seeing anyone recently?”
“No,” You can’t help but sound a bit bitter as you respond, not in the mood to recount the string of disappointing Tinder dates and unsatisfying hookups that have left you feeling frustrated. “I’m going to live a miserable single life. Maybe I’ll get a dog to make me feel less lonely.”
“The last time we spoke, you were seeing Jennie’s cousin, right? Was his name Liam?” His name makes you grimace and Tess snorts, covering her mouth to conceal the rest of her amusement. “Was it that bad?”
“To be fair, he did warn me that us fucking in his apartment would be risky because of his roommate being there.”
Tess’s brows furrowed in confusion, “What do you mean? Does his roommate never leave the apartment?”
You let out a frustrated wail, frowning at the memory. “No! They share a fucking room. Their beds are literally pressed together, toe to toe!” Tess is unable to control her laughter now, almost spitting her wine across the table as she splutters, but you take no notice as you shiver at the memory. “They turned their perfectly capable extra bedroom into a makeshift gym… it was scary.”
“Please, your dates can’t be all that bad,” Tess says, and you almost break into the story of your much recent date that you had explained to Jennie prior, but your attention is drawn to a soft call of your name. You turn in your seat to see Chris standing behind you, wearing a boyish yet kind grin on his lips.
It takes you an embarrassing amount of time to realise that he’s asking if the chairs beside you are free, and you nod dumbly, offering him a smile as you expect him to grab the vacant chair and take it wherever he needs to go. But to your surprise, Chris slides the chair out from beneath the table and sits beside you.
He begins to explain, “Justin and Jennie are talking with her family. Nick is taking pictures, and Matt’s with our parents. It was getting a little boring over there, so I hope you don’t mind me bothering you instead.”
“Not at all,” You smile warmly at him, “The speech was amazing, by the way.”
Tess chimes in without missing a beat, her tone teasing. “She cried,” She nods towards you, and you playfully nudge her with your shoulder. “But she’s right, though. You and your brothers did a great job with the speeches.”
Chris grins in response, running his fingers through his hair to push the curls away from his face. You can’t help but admire the sight, a desire to reach out and run your own fingers through his locks briefly crossing your mind. But you keep your hands occupied with holding your wine glass, maintaining a respectful distance.
Tess’s boyfriend, Ryan, soon joins the table, and he immediately strikes up a conversation with Chris. The two of them engage in a series of discussions and topics that leave Chris laughing loudly, unable to keep himself upright, his shoulder brushing against yours every so often, and you can’t help but feel flustered as his warmth radiates towards you.
You are so embarrassingly touch starved.
As the conversation continues, Ryan suddenly excuses himself, mentioning that he’ll treat the entire table to drinks. Chris offers to accompany him, and he dips his head low in your direction to quietly ask about your drink preference, but Ryan’s hand clamps down on Chris’s shoulder, assuring him that he knows everyone’s favourite drinks. With a firm tug, Ryan pulls Chris towards the bar, leaving you momentarily disappointed and longing for more interactions with him.
Tess observes the duo walking towards the bar, wearing a mischievous smirk on her face. She then shifts her gaze to you and comments, “He’s cute. Like, really cute.”
You nod, a light laugh escaping your lips. “I know,” You admit, your voice filled with amusement. “I actually met him earlier. He saved me from tripping over these heels like an idiot.”
“Wow… so, you literally fell for him.”
“Funny,” You snort, finding her words amusing. Finishing the last sip of your wine, you place the empty glass on the table and wipe the corner of your lips with a napkin. Your attention shifts towards the bar, where Chris and Ryan are engrossed in conversation, both laughing. “Fuck,” You mutter softly. “He really is cute.”
“Ask for his number,” Tess suggests, “Or bring him home with you later. Keep your bed warm.”
You playfully gasp in response, “This is a wedding! I’m trying to be classy today.”
“Oh, I’m far from classy,” Tess scoffs, sending a sultry look towards Ryan, who meets her eyes from across the room and winks at her. “I almost jumped Ryan outside when I saw him dressed in the suit.”
You burst into laughter at Tess’s comment, but before you can fully respond, Chris and Ryan return back to the table, carrying a tray of drinks. They distribute the beverages, and you patiently wait your turn, smiling at Chris as he takes his seat beside you, holding two glasses of red wine in his hand.
He hands one over to you, “You cool with red wine?”
You hum, taking the glass between your fingers with a smile. “I’m cool.”
Chris returns your smile, his grin widening as his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip. “Cool.”
The drinks start to flow through your system, and soon you find yourself becoming increasingly tipsy and talkative. Engaging in lively conversations with the table, the topics range from various subjects to the details of the wedding itself. Jennie and Justin finally join in, accompanied by Nick and Matt.
Chris, too, seems to be in a similar state of tipsiness, becoming more talkative and touchy.
You don’t mind when you feel Chris unintentionally lean against you, his body pressing lightly to yours as he listens intently to Jennie she speaks. He hangs onto her every word, his laughter filling the air whenever Justin interjects with a joke or flirty comment, or when Matt and Nick chime in with their own commentary.
During this interaction, you can’t help but notice how animated Chris becomes when he speaks. His hands are in constant motion, emphasising his points, clapping them together, or even slamming them down on surfaces when something particularly funny is said.
You’re taken aback when Chris dramatically sighs in response to one of his brothers’ teasing and drops his hands, unintentionally resting them on your thigh. The warmth of his palm against your skin and the gentle tapping of his fingers send a rush of sensations through you. It’s a moment that catches your full attention, leaving you unsure of how to react.
Chris seems oblivious to what he’s done, perhaps too caught up in the conversation or the effects of the drinks. You contemplate whether to subtly let him know or allow the touch to continue, as you find yourself enjoying the comforting and slightly arousing sensation. It feels nice, and a part of you doesn’t want it to end.
You bite back any type of response or comment, and you hide your grin behind the rim of your wine glass, taking a sip while ignoring Tess’s lingering gaze and her teasing nudge against your side. Jennie also catches on quickly, wiggling her eyebrows in your direction before leaning into Justin’s ear to whisper something.
You resist the urge to roll your eyes when Justin gazes at you, likely picking up on the situation as well.
The attention shifts away from the two of you and back to the ongoing conversation, allowing you to exhale deeply, relieved that the focus has been diverted.
However, Chris notices your sigh and leans in close, his warm breath brushing against your ear as he whispers in concern. “You good? Did you have too much to drink or something?”
You turn to face him with a smile, assuring him, “I’m okay.” His worry immediately fades as he returns your smile.
Just as he’s about to say something else, a small movement causes his hand to shift on your lap. Chris’s head drops down, his eyes widening comically as he realises where his hand has been this entire time.
“Oh shit,” He slowly withdraws his hand, “Oh. Wow. Damn. I’m so sorry, I didn’t—”
“It’s okay,” You interrupt, wanting to ease any embarrassment or discomfort he may be feeling. You gather your courage and place your hand on top of his, causing his hand to settle back onto your thigh. You notice his throat bob as he swallows, his eyebrow twitching as his gaze shifts between your hands and your eyes. Wanting to reassure him, you repeat, “It’s okay.”
“Yeah? You sure?” Chris asks, and despite wanting to make sure you were fully okay with the situation, he turns his hand beneath yours, palm to palm, his fingers twitching with the urge to intertwine.
But you take the initiative and lace your fingers together, holding his hand firmly in your grasp. Chris bites down on his cheek and glances away, unable to hide the goofy smile that spreads across his lips, and his grip tightens on your hand, his thumb gently grazing across your knuckles. he turns his hand around beneath yours, palm to palm, his fingers twitching against your own as he was desperate to lace them together, but it was you who took that initiative.
“Oh. I love this song!” Jennie exclaims loudly at the sound of a familiar song playing in the venue, drawing everyone's attention to the dance floor. She pulls Justin up with her and looks over at you. “You coming?”
You find yourself torn between wanting to dance and not wanting to let go of Chris’s hand just yet, and a sense of selfishness washes over you.“You go dance together. I’m going to finish up my drink.”
Jennie smirks and sends a sly wink your way before she and Justin make their way to the dance floor. Meanwhile, Ryan stands up with Tess on his arm and asks Chris if he’s coming too. Chris hesitates for a moment before declining, his hand subtly squeezing yours beneath the table, a small gesture that doesn’t go unnoticed.
Ryan shrugs and accepts Chris’s decision, along with Matt and Nick, as they all head towards the dance floor. Nick, in particular, cranes his head back towards you and Chris, giving his brother a cheesy thumbs up to which you almost snort at.
As you watch the guests on the dance floor, a feeling of warmth fills your heart. The happiness radiates from the people around you, especially Jennie and Justin, who are wrapped up in each other’s arms, sharing whispered words and sweet kisses.
Lost in your observation, you fail to notice Chris trying to get your attention amidst the music. It’s only when he leans in close, his voice hushed, that you become aware of his attempt to talk to you. Struggling to hear him, you lean in ever closer, feeling a shiver run down your neck as his warm breath brushes against your skin. He asks if he can have your number.
For a quick moment, you’re stunned by his request, caught off guard by the sudden turn of events. However, you quickly regain your composure and nod your head in agreement, a smile forming on your lips. Chris wastes no time, swiftly retrieving his phone from his pocket with his free hand as the other remains intertwined with yours.
He hands you his phone, already unlocked and ready for you to put in your number. You can’t help but smile even wider as you type in your name and number, playfully adding a heart emoji to your contact information. Chris grins upon seeing it, and you notice in surprise that he doesn’t even attempt to remove the heart or replace it with a different emoji. He simply shuts off his phone and pockets it, leaving the heart intact.
A comfortable silence settles between the two of you as you bask in each other’s company, listening to the music, watching others dance and mingle around you. You’re typically the first one on the dance floor, letting the rhythm and the music move you. But right now, you’re content sitting beside the cute boy with your hands locked together.
Curiosity gets the best of you, and you decide to break the silence as you ask, “So, how come you didn’t want to dance?” You glance at him, taking a sip of your wine..
“I’m fine right here,” He replies, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “Why didn’t you want to dance?”
You muster up the courage to be bold with your answer, “Because I didn’t want to let go of your hand.”
“Wow,” Chris’s laughter fills the air, and he unconsciously swipes his tongue across his bottom lip as he tries to conceal his obvious grin. “You’re bold,” He says. “You kind of make me feel nervous sometimes.”
Raising an eyebrow, you press,, “A good nervous or a bad nervous?”
Chris exhales deeply, a genuine smile finally breaking through as he meets your gaze, “A really good nervous,”
Feeling more confident in yourself, you lean in closer to Chris, pressing your side against his. He laughs and allows you to do as you please, his fingers squeezing around your own in response. The close proximity between you both makes him feel a little hot beneath the collar.
Lost in the moment and distracted by you, Chris forgets that he’s still holding his glass in his other hand. As your face draws closer, his teeth biting down on his bottom lip, he accidentally loosens his grip on the stem of the glass when your nose brushes against his.
The drink spills over his lap, causing him to let out a surprised noise and jerk back in shock. He quickly releases your hand to grab the now half-empty glass, staring at the mess he’s created, a slight pink hue colouring his cheeks.
Chris is clearly embarrassed, sitting in stunned silence, not uttering a single word as he assesses the damage. Meanwhile, you gasp loudly, your hand flying to cover your mouth in shock.
Apologies spill out of you in rapid speed as you realise the consequences of your actions, blaming yourself for diverting Chris’s attention and causing the spill. You hastily grab a napkin from the table, tapping his lap in an attempt to dry his pants, all while continuing to whisper your sorrys. Despite the fact that his pants are black and won’t show a stain, you still feel responsible and guilty.
Chris’s eyes widen as he watches you, body frozen and his mouth dry as he feels your touch pressing against him. He’s unable to move or speak, caught off guard when he feels you press against his cock. It’s only when you start to wipe that he finally reacts, snatching your wrist in his grasp and emitting a choked groan.
“I’m good,” He strains, his voice tight as he tries to regain his composure. You immediately pull back once you realise how you were touching him. Embarrassed, you remain silent, unable to meet his eyes as you look away, avoiding any further interaction despite the thought of making him hard just from some mere touching leaves an ache between your legs, and you press your thighs together as you clear your throat.
Desperate to change the topic or find an escape route from the embarrassment, you suggest getting Chris another drink, glancing at his half-empty glass and then at the bar. However, Chris interrupts you before you can finish your offer, coughing and shaking his head.
“No, it’s good, you’re fine,” He insists, clearing his throat and shifting in his seat, pulling at his blazer to hide the bulge forming in his pants. “I’m, like, sorry… by the way.”
Quickly, you reassure him that he doesn’t need to apologise, taking the blame upon yourself for distracting him and causing the drink to spill.
“I wasn’t talking about that,” Chris cuts you off once again, making it clear that he’s referring to something else entirely. You swallow thickly, realising what he’s alluding to, and you shake your head, wanting to assure him that it’s okay. However, he continues, stumbling over his words. “I’m talking about me—okay, shit, look. It just happens, you know, and when you were touching me—”
You interrupt him this time, “It’s flattering, really,” you admit with a small chuckle to escape. “It’s fine, I promise. I’m sorry for touching you, though. I was only trying to help… and I understand that it's a totally normal reaction, so don’t worry. It’s cute.”
Chris stares at your face in silence for a moment before responding in a lighthearted tone. “Did you just call me getting hard cute?”
You grimace at your choice of words, “Pretend you didn’t hear that. I don’t know what I’m talking about.”
Before you can start rambling and making excuses for your mistake, your voice trails off as you feel Chris’s hand slide back into yours. His fingers intertwined with yours, and you bite back a gasp as he gently guides your intertwined hands back to his lap, causally resting the back of your hand against the bulge in his pants. It makes your head spin.
You need him—no, you want him.
The thoughts that run through your mind and the needy ache between your legs has you desperate to be touched, to be fucked, all by him.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” You announce, noticing the rejected look on Chris’s face as he loosens his hold on your hand. However, you quickly tighten your grip, not wanting to let go. “Do you want to come with me?”
Chris looks confused. “What? To the bathroom?”
“Yes.”
“Do you, like, need help peeing or something?” Chris asks, unsure of your intentions.
“No, I don’t need to pee,” You can’t help but laugh, causing Chris to give you a puzzled look. Your attention is fully on him now, your eyes dark and tone sultry. “I just really want to go to the bathroom.”
“Oh…” Chris blinks, his eyebrows knitting together as he’s even more confused. But then, it all seems to dawn on him what you’re hinting towards, and his eyebrows raise slightly. “Oh.”
“So,” Your voice is laced with anticipation. “Do you want to come to the bathroom with me?”
Chris nods eagerly, his grip on your hand tightening. “Yeah, yeah, let’s go.”
You pull Chris up from his seat as soon as he gives you the confirmation you’ve been waiting for and you navigate through the crowded dance floor, heading towards the bathroom area.
Chris is hot on your heels, his hand still tightly clasped in yours, and almost tripping over his own shoes due to the speed you’re walking in, and him trying to keep up with you, ensuring not to stray too far from each other.
Unbeknownst to you, Justin and Jennie watch with amused smirks on their faces, exchanging celebratory fist bumps before sharing a sweet kiss of their own.
Finally reaching the bathroom area, Chris chuckles deeply as you yank him inside a vacant stall, closing and locking the door behind you. He takes in his surroundings first—the clean white marbled floor and walls painted with green vines.
“Wow,” Chris murmurs, seemingly impressed. “This bathroom is actually pretty neat—what are you doing?”
Your fingers are pulling at the buttons on his pants as you simply state, “I’m going to suck you off.”
“Yeah?” Chris hums, licking at his lips as he watches you drop to your knees, and his eyebrows pull together in concern when he notices your bridesmaid dress is wrinkling and losing its pristine condition. “What about your dress?”
“You’re worried about my dress? That’s cute,” You smile up at him. You free his cock from his trousers and boxers, and you wrap your fingers around the base which causes him to hiss through his teeth at the contact. “I don’t really care about my dress right now. All I care about is making you feel good.”
“Alright,” Chris slumps down on the closed lid of the toilet seat, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth as he looks down at you with hazy vision. “Go on. Do what you want.”
The moment he gives you the permission, you take him into your mouth, and a string of curse words leaves his lips, running his fingers through his hair as he stares down at you.
His cock feels hot and heavy on your tongue, and you take him down your throat, sucking him in and squeezing your fingers around the base that you struggle to fit all the way into your mouth. He’s big, bigger than you expected, and it drives you wild—the ache in between your legs becoming almost unbearable, but you want to play with him a little longer, to taste him more.
With Chris watching you through lidded eyes, it fuels you to put on a show for him, and that’s exactly what you do. You pull back, close your lips around his tip, sucking and using your tongue around his sensitive head. He’s panting above you, a throaty moan leaving him when you take him deeper into your mouth, jerking him off with each twist of your fist.
“You can touch me,” You remind him, a string of spit connecting from your lips to the tip of his cock when you move back to catch your breath. “Touch me, Chris.”
“Man, you’re insane,” Chris laughs deeply, and his hand comes down to rest on the back of your head. His fingers thread your through hair, gripping at the roots as he pushes you further down on his cock, and you gag a little when he hits the back of your throat so suddenly. But you breathe steadily through your nose, hollowing your cheeks around him, drool seeping past your lips. “Fucking filthy girl.”
You hum around his cock at his words, and you shuffle closer to kneel better between his open legs. The slight sting on your scalp from his tight grip on your hair urges you to do better, to give him everything you've got. The burn in the back of your throat is pleasurable and you moan, causing his hips to jerk forward at the vibration, and you take him in deeper.
“Oh, fuck me,” Chris grunts, pushing your head down. “Fuck. Just like that—god.”
You pull off of him with a lewd pop, and you use your hand to jerk him off as your glossy lips form into a sweet smile. “You’re noisy, you know.”
“What do you expect?” Chris hums with a lighthearted laugh, and his hand comes down from the top of your head to caress your cheek, his thumb pulling at your bottom lip. “I got a pretty girl on her knees in front of me sucking my cock, the fuck am I supposed to do?”
Your heart swells in your chest as you repeat, “Pretty girl?”
“Yeah,” Chris nods, grinning down at you. “The prettiest, ma.”
The choked groan that leaves him when you let go of his cock almost makes you take him into your hands again, but you’re too needy for him now—desperate to be filled by him.
Usually, you would scold yourself for allowing such a bare minimum compliment to get you so hot and bothered, but you didn’t care, not when it sounded so fucking good coming from him.
Chris watches with wild eyes as you yank your underwear down your legs, discarding them to the side and bunching the hem of your dress up to your waist as you ease yourself down on his lap. One of his hands comes to rest at your hip, and the other grips your jaw, finally bringing you in for a first kiss.
The kiss is sweet at first—soft and delicate, and Chris even takes a moment to lean back to gaze at your face with a small grin on his face. The grip he has on your jaw tightens a little, causing your lips to pucker up and he hums, nose brushing against yours before he claims your lips again.
This time, it’s more frantic. You’re biting at his bottom lip, his tongue dips into your mouth, teeth clashing, and his hands move to fist the material of your dress, bunching it higher over your hips as your own hand dips between your body to line his cock at your entrance, and you sink down onto him.
Chris grunts into your mouth while you moan, the feeling of him filling you so deep making your toes curl. Your arms wind around his shoulders to keep yourself steady as you leisurely bounce on his lap, and Chris’s grip is tight on your hips as he thrusts up into you.
He’s kissing you breathless, and you’re too drunk on his lips and cock to pull away for air. You lace your fingers through his curls as you fuck youtself down on him, putting all of your energy in riding him and it’s Chris that breaks the kiss to curse loudly with a moan, panting as he stares at you with wide eyes and red, swollen lips.
“You feel good,” Chris grunts. You clamp around him, whining softly at his compliment. “Fuck, ma… you’re so fucking tight f’me.”
“You’re being noisy again.” You repeat from before in a teasing tone, even though you’re not particularly quiet yourself. You’re unable to keep your noises at a minimum as you moan loudly when he matches the rhythm of your hips.
Chris laughs, “Shut up.”
Admittedly, you like the way he sounds edging closer and closer to release, and you would like to relish in the sound a little more, but when you hear the bathroom door suddenly open, your eyes widen as your hand flies down from his hair to slap over his mouth to silence him. Chris stares up at you in alarm as someone walks into the stall beside yours.
You’re still lifting and dropping yourself back down on him, and he’s still fucking up into you to keep the pace despite not wanting to get caught. But you’re thankful that whoever is beside you has flushed the toilet the second you let out a wail when his cock hits a spot within you, and Chris is quick to silence you too, pressing his hand over your own mouth and staring into your eyes.
You’re both panting heavily behind each other’s hands, and you can make out the sound of water running from the sink tap before it shuts off, then the bathroom door opens and creaks shut behind them, leaving you both alone once again.
Still, neither of you move your hand, still keeping each other silent despite the muffled noises you’re both making.
You feel yourself getting closer and closer to your orgasm, and you wonder if Chris feels the same. You get the answer when his eyes roll to the back of his head as he groans, his hand falling from your mouth to hold your waist and pull you down onto him.
As your hand moves from his mouth to touch his face, Chris finally speaks, “I’m gonna cum.”
“Me too,” You agree, exhaling deeply. “Cum. Cum inside me.”
The corner of Chris’s lips twitch upwards, “Yeah? You want that?”
You nod eagerly, “Yes. Please. Fill me up.”
“Fuck, alright.” Chris grunts, lurching forwards to slot his lips over yours, and his tongue dips into your mouth, gliding with yours as he cums deep within. He keeps moving you against him to reach your own high, and you wail as your orgasm hits you, convulsing around his cock as you hump his lap.
You’re heavily heavily, desperate to catch your breath as you break away from his lips, and he leaves messy, wet kisses down the column of your neck. His hands loosen on your hips to wrap his arms around your waist, holding you close to his chest and yours slide around his shoulders, fingers threading through his hair as your body trembles.
It’s silent between you both as you embrace each other, and Chris is still kissing your neck with his hands rubbing your back comfortingly, and you melt into his arms. You feel relaxed and content, even though you should be both cleaning yourself up and leaving before anyone else could walk in.
“Just so you know, I don’t do this,” Chris mumbles in the crevice of your neck. Your eyebrows knit together, and you arch back to look at his face, and he smiles at your confused expression. “I mean, like, meeting some stranger and hooking up with them. I don’t do that.”
“I don’t either,” You admit, chewing your bottom lip. “I usually go on at least one date before I do that.”
“Noted,” Chris grins sluggishly. “I’ll take you next time.”
His nonchalant tone makes your heart flutter, and you wonder if he knows what he has just said to you, and if he’s serious on potentially seeing you again. You want to question it, or at least have him repeat it, but you keep your lips pressed together when you notice Chris’s attention is brought to the décor of the stall like it was the first time he came in.
“This bathroom is really nice, though. I wonder if Matt and Nick know about this.”
© sturnioz
#©sturnioz#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo fluff#chris x reader#sturniolo smut#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo triplets x reader#sturniolo triplets smut
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I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship
Couple, Bar Chapter 1
Summary: After you help Joel with a work project, he takes you out for drinks. When the bartender mistakes you for a couple, his brain short circuits.
Pairing: Single Dad Neighbor!Joel Miller X Reader
Warnings: Joel thinking being mean is flirting, alcohol, grinding on strangers, getting groped in public, no-no words. In my mind there's an age gap (10 years max) and I envision a mid-40s Joel, but I don't think it'll ever become apparent.
Word Count: 2.3k
Notes: Formatting on mobile is not for the weak, y'all, so if this looks like ass I'm sorry. I don't know what a contractor does. Song mentioned is Jenny (I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship) by Studio Killers. Full playlist is linked on the master post for this series (which I'll learn to link all together soon I promise I'M OLD, OK?!) Also I promise I have an English degree but if I read this one more time I'll lose the nerve to post it so ignore any mistakes I missed. Anyway love you bye.
While you weren't on your neighbor Joel's payroll, every now and then he'd knock on your door and sheepishly ask to borrow your "eye for design," which was Joel talk for "I need help knowing what handles look good on these cabinets I'm building and every other person in my life is busy."
You and Joel had been neighbors for the better part of 5 years and had become relatively close in that time. If you were being honest with yourself, the first day you met you might have fallen in love, but since immediately jumping into a relationship with a newly-divorced single father wasn't on your five-year plan, those feelings were buried, albeit not always successfully.
Joel was charming, kind, and... Southern. And while these were all things that made you head over heels for him, they were exactly what made it difficult to interpret his feelings for you. Were he and Sarah baking you Christmas cookies and hand delivering them to your door because he too had a crush, or was he just being neighborly? Was he grinning every time he said hello to you because he was a nice guy? What were you supposed to make of that one time, on his couch for movie night, when his hand lingered a little longer than normal on your thigh? You had no idea, and for the sake of your friendship, you were content not knowing.
On this particular day, Joel needed help matching paint colors to flooring samples and might as well have been color blind. He was building a house for a newlywed couple and their wishes for, as Joel put it, "some 1960s Brady Bunch bullshit" aesthetic meant nothing to him. You had spent the better part of an hour helping Joel match swatches of green and orange in ways that he had previously thought impossible, and as a thank you, he offered to buy you a drink at the first bar you spotted on the way home.
The first bar you spotted happened to be an almost-literal hole in the wall, but the packed parking lot indicated it was a place worth visiting. Joel opened the door, beckoning you through the threshold ahead of him, and you're hit with a wall of smoke and the bump of a local dj working through his set.
Luckily most of the people at the bar had already started drinking and were congregated in the middle of the tiny dance floor, making it easy to find two seats. Joel flagged the bartender over and ordered for the both of you, handing his card over to start a tab.
"Got you a beer, this place doesn't look like they'd make a good margarita," Joel shouts over the music.
You smile, leaning in close to thank Joel. "I appreciate the forethought! Send me a Venmo request for what I end up owing you," you gesture to the frosty bottles that get put in front of you.
Joel tuts and waves his hand between you two in a noncommittal gesture. He leans in close to your ear instead of shouting this time, "consider it payment for your help today. When that couple told me they wanted their house to be 'midcentury Palm Springs chic' I knew you'd know what they meant. The wife kept sending me links to her Pinterest board, whatever the fuck that is. I was too scared to click them because..."
"Because you're fucking old," you finish, barking out a laugh at the frown that Joel gives you.
After one beer turned into three, Joel starts to open up. Despite his gruff exterior, you know he cares and is interested in your life, even if it takes some alcohol to get him asking about it.
"Have you started dating yet?" The question catches you off guard, your eyes growing wide. "What? You've been in town for five years now, it's high time you start putting yourself out there. A pretty girl like you should have no trouble finding a man."
There it is again. Is Joel just being nice calling you pretty? Or is he fishing for something more?
"Have you started dating?" you counter, raising an eyebrow, nodding when Joel shakes his head. "I'm too busy, Joel. I'm���"
"'Focusing on my career,'" Joel finishes for you, having heard it all before.
You roll your eyes. "Why are we talking about this?"
Joel smirks and cocks his head to your beer, the label in the process of being peeled completely off. "You've peeled the label off every drink you've had tonight."
"Oh…kay?"
Joel shrugs, "if Tommy were here he'd say you're pulling the labels off because you're sexually frustrated." He makes a face as if to say 'but what do I know?'
You raised an eyebrow at Joel. "You of all people should know not to take what Tommy says as fact. And you're one to talk; you live across the street, I'd notice if women were coming over. And they're not. You're going through a dry spell, Miller, same as me." You empty your bottle, stuffing the label down the neck and waving the bartender over for you and Joel to order one more round. Joel tries to think of a witty comeback, but he knows you're right.
You watch the bartender open your tab on the till behind the bar and chuckle when you notice what she's titled it: at the top of the screen, in bold letters, "COUPLE BAR."
You tap Joel's bicep, pointing to the screen, "look at that, Miller," you shout over the music, "she thinks you and I are a couple."
Joel looks at the screen himself, eyes suddenly going wide. You raise an eyebrow at him, confused as to why he isn't just chuckling at the bartender's misunderstanding, but your expression turns to one of anger once Joel regains use of his brain and the only thing he can think to say is, "... ew?"
You hope you just misheard him over the loud music, but as Joel started to sputter out an apology, looking horrified at what he had said, you realize - a stranger thought you two were dating, and Joel thinks that's gross. You weren't interested in hearing him trip over his words while he tried to backtrack, and you desperately needed a distraction so you didn't start to cry. You wave your hand in front of Joel's face, telling him to save it as you grab your beer and push past him to the dance floor.
This is definitely not your scene, the middle of a smoke-filled bar on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, but you make the most of it, taking a swig from your bottle as you push through the crowd. Once you've made your way to the center of the crowd, you assume the position - eyes closed, bottle raised above your head, swinging your hips to whatever top 40 hit the dj decides to bleed into the last one he played. You don't have to wait long before you feel a body push up behind you and you welcome the distraction. You don't open your eyes or lower your hand except to drink from your near empty bottle, but you do back your ass up against the stranger behind you. It's definitely not Joel. This person behind you is way too lanky; when his arms encircle your waist they lack definition, his thighs aren't nearly as beefy as Joel's, and… you get frustrated with yourself. Joel just insinuated dating you would be gross and all you can do is think about how hot he is?
You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts and enjoy the moment. The guy behind you is getting handsy, and normally that would bother you, but Joel was right about that dry spell. One song bleeds into another as you gyrate against this stranger who now has his hand splayed across your stomach under your shirt.
You're ripped unceremoniously from your mindless grinding by a large hand on your shoulder. You wink one eye open though you knew it was Joel. You're not interested in hearing him out, especially not with this stranger's hand gliding slowly up your torso, boldly inching closer to your chest.
"Darlin'" you hear Joel shout over the music, "'m sorry. I didn't mean…"
You put your palm in front of Joel's face before moving your hand on top of the stranger's, whose fingers are teasing the hem of your bra. Joel can be sorry, but he's also going to see how decidedly not-ew the thought of being with you is.
"Whatever, Joel. You can think being my boyfriend is gross. This is fine!" You open your eyes and the look on Joel's face is one you've never seen before. At this point he isn't looking at you, he's staring daggers at the man behind you. Whoever he is seems blissfully unaware.
"Honey, I'm out of touch. I'm fucking old, you said it yourself! I don't know how to - hey, buddy, do you fucking mind?" The hand under your shirt loses its grip on you as Joel shoves the shoulder of the guy behind you. Suddenly his body unglues itself from your back.
"My bad, man. Didn't know she had a boyfriend," he shouts over the music as he disappears back into the crowd. You groan and roll your eyes.
"So sorry, Joel! Turns out when you look and act like my boyfriend, people think you really are! How embarrassing for you," you ramble into Joel's ear. You turn to walk off the dance floor, embarrassed, but before you're out of his reach Joel grabs your forearm, pulling gently until you're flush with his body. He towers over you, his eyes bore into yours.
"Please listen," he bends to speak quietly into your ear, "I'm sorry, and I mean it. We're friends, and I value that. I thought I was bantering, bein' funny. I know you don't want to be a couple at this bar. I know you want to be friends, nothing more, with me. But…" he trails off, pulling away to look at your face.
The atmosphere changes in a way that you swear is straight out of a movie. The lights pulsing and flashing are hitting Joel's face in a way that makes him even more handsome, which you'd thought previously impossible. While your beer bottle is empty, clutched into your hand that hangs limply at your side, Joel's drink is nearly full, still frosty, and dripping condensation through your shirt, soaking your lower back. Joel's eyebrows are raised, waiting for you to do or say anything.
And then the dj changes the song. You are… intimately familiar with what begins to play and you shake your head, chuckling. What divine intervention drove the dj to start playing a song about ruining a friendship at this very moment? You have no idea, but you make a mental note to thank the universe as you smile at Joel. You push away from him for just a second, long enough to rip the label off your empty beer bottle. Joel looks confused watching you ball up the damp paper.
You chuckle as you toss the label at Joel, it pinging off his temple before you spin your body so your back is plastered against Joel's front.
You'll show him sexually frustrated.
Joel seems to take a second to read the situation because his body doesn't move. In fact, it goes rigid. Your hips sway against him anyway. Joel only breaks out of his spell when your arm snakes around his neck and you bury your fingers in his hair. Tugging gently on his curls seems to awaken something in him and his hands are on you in seconds. The hand clutching his beer comes to rest on your hip as the other picks up where your previous dance partner left off, creeping under your shirt and splaying across your stomach.
"What are we doin' here, baby?" Joel rasps into your ear, his voice deeper and more strained than you're used to. "I guess I deserve you teasin' me, but two can play this game." Joel's nose prods at a spot behind your ear as he peels one cup of your bra away from your body, replacing it with his hand. Your eyes fly open to ensure no one notices, but everyone on the dance floor is busy paying attention to their own partners. Joel rolls your nipple between two fingers before giving it a flick; you try and suppress a moan.
Not to be outdone, you reach for the beer bottle in Joel's hand. You make sure Joel's eyes are locked on you as you lick a stripe up the neck of the bottle, taking a generous sip before handing it back. Joel's eyes widen and he smirks, bringing his mouth back to your ear.
"Think it goes without sayin' now, but I really don't hate the idea of people thinking you're mine," Joel accentuates his last word with a gentle nip at your earlobe that makes your head loll back onto his shoulder.
"Are you listening to the song, Joel?" You reach up to place your hand on Joel's cheek, turning his face gently so your eyes meet. He looks confused, but you can tell he's training his ear onto the chorus of what's playing.
I wanna ruin our friendship
We should be lovers instead
I don't know how to say this
'Cause you're really my dearest friend
Joel lowers his eyes back down to meet yours and smirks. "You an' me both, darlin'." His hand around your waist pulls you impossibly closer and you feel him grow hard against your ass.
"Know where I last heard this song?" The final notes start to dissipate, melding seamlessly with the next song. Joel shakes his head and asks where. You smirk, nuzzling into Joel's neck before you lick a stripe up to his ear. "It's on my sex playlist."
Joel stills. You grin, giggling as he pushes you away gently. "I've gotta close out the tab," he says once he remembers how to form thoughts into words. "Meet me at the truck. And think about what song you're gonna put on once I get you home."
#joel miller smut#fanfic#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x reader#tlou smut#couple bar#neighbor!joel
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One of The Girls
Pairing : Dean Winchester X Reader
Word count : 1.5k
Warnings : sexual content, age gap, implied smut. MDNI
I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.
Hunting is fun, sometimes it gets overwhelming but Y/n liked hunting with the Winchesters. Mostly because she a has the hots for the older Winchester. He, however, never made a move, even though his eyes seem to follow her body everywhere she went, hinting he felt the same. She knew he feels he's too old for her. For her, being twenty seven and him being thirty six was not a big deal. He was only nine years older than her yet he made it seem like he was old enough to be her father.
It was a gruesome ghoul hunt but they weren't as tired. After getting cleaned up, the trio decided to hit the bar. Dean had his classic rock music blasting from the speakers of the Impala and she rolled her eyes at his old man antics. She plugged in her earphones to listen to her pop music. She had only been on her second song when the car came to a halt and the bar came into view. The three of them made their way into the bar and ordered three beers to ease into the night.
"Man I hate ghouls." Dean rasped gripping his bottle. Her gaze lingered on his fingers that wrapped around the bottle, oh what could those fingers do to me. Her eyes flickered to his lips as he took a swig from it. I wonder how they would feel wrapped around my nipples.
"Me too, They’re gross." Sam commented pulling her out her lewd thoughts.
Y/n chose not to add a comment letting her eyes wander around the bar. She noticed a small set up for karaoke where a guy was slurring the words of a song she didn't recognise. She watched the lot of women present around the place knowing one of them would be lucky enough to end up in Dean's bed tonight. A soft sigh left her lips at the thought.
"You okay there, sweetheart?" Dean asked and she felt as if his green eyes were piercing her soul.
"Peachy." She replied. She motioned the bartender over and ordered three shots of whiskey for herself. She downed them as soon as they were poured.
"Woah slow down." Sam said watching her gulp down the amber liquid.
"Loosen up Sammy." She felt buzzed, the alcohol in her allowed her to let loose. The taller man just shook his head and watched in amusement as she made her way towards the karaoke set up.
"You think she'll regret this in the morning?" Sam asked his older brother. Dean smirked at his little brother before answering.
"Depends on how bad of a singer she is." His eyes never leaving her figure. He watched as she selected a song the she was going to sing and an unfamiliar tune began to play through the speakers. He watched as she sang and swayed to the beat of the song. She was good. If he didn't know better he'd think she's a pop-star.
"She's good." Sam commented and his brother nodded in acknowledgment. One song rolled into four and the patrons were thankful that she replaced the tone deaf drunk.
She was having the time of her life dancing and singing, she could feel Dean's eyes on her and she got an idea. She knew she might come to regret it but she couldn't care less at the moment and made her way towards the boys.
"Aren't you on a roll today." Sam teased looking at her with a grin.
"It's called having fun." She pouted at her tall friend which made him laugh.
"So..." Dean drawled, poking his lips with his tongue that she wanted at places she couldn't say out loud. "Are you done having fun?" He asked to which she shook her head.
"Nope, I'm just getting started." She took Dean's glass from his hold and made her way back to the makeshift stage. He watched as she downed whatever it was that he was drinking, looking him straight in the eyes. He sucked in a sharp breath at the action. The music began and started singing,
Lock me up and throw away the key
He knows how to get the best out of me
I'm no force for the world to see
Trade my whole life just to be
She sways her hips sensually to the beat and misses the next few lyrics as she's too engrossed in the music but then she continued,
Give me tough love
Leave me with nothin' when I come down
My kinda love
Push me and choke me 'til I pass out
She looks directly at Dean, as if she's telling him to do it to her. At that moment she thanked herself that decided to forego her usual T-shirts and settling on a crop top.
We don't gotta be in love, no
I don't gotta be the one, no
I just wanna be one of your girls
Tonight (tonight)
She closed her eyes and let her hands wander all over her body. Dean looked around the bar and noticed he's not the only one enjoying the show. His fists clenched on the table and his glare darkened at her on the stage.
We don't gotta be in love, no
I don't gotta be the one, no
I just wanna be one of your girls
Tonight (tonight), oh
She watched his green eyes turn dark. She knew he had him exactly where she wanted him. She smirked playfully before continuing her ministrations.
Push me down, hold me down
Spit in my mouth while you turn me on
I wanna take your light inside
Dim me down, snuff me out
Hands on my neck while you push it out
And I'm screamin' out
Just the thought of manhandling her, pushing her around, choking her while thrusting into her sweet little cunt. Imagining her moans and screams when he brings closer to edge and deny her release. Stuffing her tight pussy with his seed. Dean felt himself shudder the mere thought. She's playing with fire here. He always kept telling himself she's too young for him, that he'd corrupt her if he ever got his hands on her. But by the looks of it, it seems she wants to be corrupted.
Top of the world but I'm still not free
It's such a secret that I keep
Until it's gone, I can never find peace
Brace my whole life just to be
We don't gotta be in love, no
I don't gotta be the one, no
I just wanna be one of your girls
Tonight (tonight)
As the song came to an end Y/n felt like her skin was on fire, her body felt too hot after watching Dean's reaction to her. This one of her best and worst ideas. She got down from the stage and it clicked that she basically seduced Dean in a bar full of strangers with his brother sitting beside him. But can she go back? No. She's going to be a big girl and deal with the consequences of her actions.
Her thoughts were broken by a blond man blocking her way. She looked at his face, he had blue eyes and wasn't bad looking but he wasn't Dean.
"That was quite a performance, sweetheart." He said, the nickname didn't have the same effect on her the way it did when Dean called her 'sweetheart'.
"Thanks I guess?..." it came out more like a question.
"So, would you like to be one of my girls tonight?" He asked his hand trailing down her arm.
"I'll give you ten seconds to get your hand off MY girl and get lost." A deep voice said from behind the stranger. The stranger turned around and Y/n saw Dean standing there with a killer look on his face.
"Surely you can have a turn, man. But after I'm done." The stranger replied smugly. Dean rolled his eyes and scoffed before throwing a punch to his jaw. The man fell to the ground and was knocked out cold.
Dean eyes trained on her with a glare, his jaw tensed. He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her out of the bar. He slammed her against the wall, she let out a gasp at the impact. The sound made Dean's blood rush to all the right places.
"Dean." She whimpered as he gripped her hips tightly.
"Shh, not a word sweetheart. You've been a bad girl." Dean slammed his hips against hers making her choke out a moan. "Aren't you a desperate one, baby." He cooed tauntingly, lips hovering above hers but not touching. She nodded her head in agreement.
"Look at you, trying to be a good girl now huh?" She nodded again. "Speak, baby. Tell me what you want."
"I want you to do all those things to me."
"Oh I'll do much worse." He chuckled darkly. He turned her around, her chest against the wall, his chest pressed against her back. He leaned over her to whisper in her ear. "I'll make you my only girl tonight."
Y/n shuddered at his words knowing it was going to be a long night.
#Spotify#dean winchester#dean winchester x female!reader#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#dean x reader#dean x you#dean x y/n#dean winchester smut#dean winchester x reader smut#spn fanfic#spn smut#sam winchester#supernatural x reader#supernatural fanfiction#jensen ackles#jensen ackles characters#nini writes
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love of my life
alexia putellas x reader
The moment Alexia smiled at you, nothing else seemed to matter.
part of the loml series
; angst
You met her on a Saturday.
Your agent told you that you were meeting the captain before you were set to join training the following week.
When you were offered a contract by Barcelona, it was a no-brainer. You packed your bags, said your goodbyes, and you were off to start your new adventure.
Alexia introduced herself, as if you had no idea who she was, which was ridiculous considering her face was plastered everywhere in this city.
You weren’t expecting the instant connection you had with Alexia. That feeling you get when things fall into place and life just… makes sense.
Alexia smiled at you and you swore you’d never felt more at ease than you did at that moment.
You fell for her on a Wednesday.
A few months into life in Barcelona, you spent more nights at Alexia’s than you did at yours. It wasn’t like you were paying the rent, so you couldn’t really care less.
You two were friends. Best friends, Mapi would argue that Alexia now preferred you over her.
That was what you two were. Two people with so many things in common, it felt like you were made for each other. As best friends.
But the more Alexia pulled you by the waist, having to have you pressed against her as she drifted off to sleep, the more you realized that you were in fact, very much in love with her.
When morning came and the first thing you saw was Alexia staring at you, a glimmer of happiness in her eyes as soon as she saw your eyes open, you didn’t think twice about kissing her inviting, soft lips.
You had your first fight on a Friday.
It was something silly that set it off. Something about Alexia going out for drinks with her group of friends, and you knew the list included her ex.
Alexia did ask you to come with, but you were already in a terrible mood because everything seemed to go wrong that day.
So you said “no” and you started going off about how Alexia was only going out because she wanted to see her ex, your green-eyed monster getting the worst out of you.
You slammed the door to Alexia’s apartment and walked back to yours.
You didn’t talk to her until Monday rolled around and you were met with a bouquet of your favourite flowers on your cubby.
Alexia stood apprehensively, gauging your reaction. Those who were in the locker room looked at each other cautiously. They knew you two never fought.
You sighed and beckoned for her to come closer. Once she did, you jumped into her arms, Alexia having to steady herself at the force of your jump.
You mumbled a million of apologies into her neck and Alexia just hugged you tighter. She told you to never worry because she would never do anything to hurt you.
She promised. You believed her.
In the future when Alexia eventually broke her promise, you would think back to this moment and consider yourself the biggest fool for ever believing her lies.
She proposed to you on a Tuesday.
It never crossed your mind that Alexia would propose that soon into your relationship.
You had been together for two years, which may seem like an enough time to propose for some people, but you knew Alexia.
You knew how she had been with Jenni for almost a decade and not once did she ever think of going ring shopping.
You knew that Alexia never spoke about marriages, so you just thought it was never in the cards for her.
It was definitely a surprise when she bent down on one knee in your shared living room, with nothing but your oversized national team sweater.
It wasn’t anything fancy, you two had just finished eating takeout from your favourite Thai place, you were watching reruns of Friends—it was perfect.
Alexia didn’t get to finish her question, you immediately tackling her to the ground, a chorus of “Yes, yes, yes!” falling from your mouth.
With Alexia’s laughter echoing throughout the apartment as you shower her with kisses, you’d never felt aglow like this before.
“I love you, mi amor,” Alexia would whisper to you in the early mornings, when no one else was awake but the two of you. “You’re the love of my life.”
#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas#woso community#woso#woso fanfics#alexia putellas imagine#woso x reader
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mirrors II Jenni Hermoso x Reader
masterlist I word count: 938
a/n: hi, the inspiration came from the request here. We'd love to hear your thoughts on this one. <3
It was October. And everyone, football players and fans alike, knew what that meant.
The best of the best were about to be honoured at the Ballon d’Or Award ceremony.
Even as a sports journalist, this was a very special night and you felt honoured to be invited amongst all those big names in the audience.
There was just one face that you could have done without seeing. And of course you were seated right next to each other.
You let your gaze wander across the room, trying not be intimidated by the amount of men in suits surrounding you. Majorly to ignore her.
Someone on stage was about to hold an acceptance speech and you hoped that it would shut her up but no, of course not.
“Come on, you know we’d look cute together.“
You didn’t even have to look at her, the smirk basically vibrated in her voice. You sighed. Apparently she couldn’t behave anywhere. Every time you met, she tried to flirt with you.
Slowly you turned towards her and whispered: “Jennifer. We’re at an award ceremony.“
“Yes, and you look gorgeous in that suit. It goes well with my dress.“, she replied quietly and casually slipped her hand onto your thigh.
For a second you cursed yourself for choosing your dark green suit. The colour was too similar to Jennis floor-length gown and made it look like you intentionally matched.
You slapped her hand away and glared at the football player: “Shh, I’m trying to listen here.“
Turning back towards the stage, you tried to follow what the laureate had to say while jotting down notes for yore next article into a small notebook on your lap.
You shivered as you felt Jennis warm breath against your ear.
“As if they had anything important to say anyway.“, she complained, rolling her eyes.
You gave up on listening and instead considered Jenni. “Men love to talk. But so do you.“
She shrugged: “At least I have something useful to say.“
“You’re flirting.“, you stated, unimpressed by her attempts at maintaining a conversation.
“And?“
“And I really need to write that article.“, you replied, your voice rising with slight anger.
When she leaned over to snatch the notebook from your lap, you had to stop yourself from yelling at her. Instead you hissed at her: “Excuse me?!“
Jenni waved the book around nonchalantly and pouted: “Now you’re just making excuses to ignore me.“
“I’m not.”, you disagreed heavily while simultaneously trying to get your working utensils back.
Maybe it was time for you to abandon your scribbling on paper in exchange for only writing things down on your smartphone or laptop you thought to yourself as the forward wasn’t showing any sign to hand the notebook back to you.
“What do you want?”, you sighed tired of her childish behaviour.
“For you to finally acknowledge that we look hot together.”, she revealed with a devilish grin on her lips.
“You don’t give up easily, huh?”, you replied, your voice couldn’t hide the growing frustration you felt towards her.
“I never give up actually.”, Jenni admitted in a serious tone.
Abruptly you stood up from the chair. The intensity of her green eyes looking at you was getting too much to handle.
“I’m going to the bathroom.”, you announced.
Much to your own surprise the Spaniard decided to follow you. “Coming.”, she responded giddily.
“Fine.”, you muttered.
“Go.”, Jenni said, while brushing your back with her hand. Normally you would say this was purely an accident, but the Spanish footballer certainly did that purposeful.
Once you reached the bathroom you let out an impressed whistle.
“This is really fancy here.”
Your gaze wandered around the interior: the mirrors were large, and everything looked like marble with golden highlights. It screamed expensive. Something you were still not used to as you grew up under rather poor circumstances.
“It’s a bathroom.”, Jenni chuckled amused.
“Still. Besides I don’t remember inviting you inside with me.”, you remarked.
“It’s a public bathroom. I’m allowed to be here.”, she reminded you smiling smugly.
“You’re lucky you’re hot. Although your big mouth.”, you begun.
“This mouth can do even more.”, the forward claimed, closing the gap between the two of you confidently while swaying her hips in a suggestive manner.
“Yes, I’ve heard about it, you’ve got quite a reputation.”, you answered cooly.
“I do?”, Jenni raised an eyebrow, pretending to be scandalized.
“Yes.”, you affirmed.
“Want to find out if it’s true what they say?”, she gave you a challenging look impatiently waiting for your response.
“I always want to know the true story behind a rumour.”, you confessed playfully, her glances almost left you breathless.
“Then don’t move.”, the forward demanded.
“I won’t.”, you assured her.
“Good.”, Jenni nodded satisfied while brushing her lips first against your cheek before wandering down to your lips until she finally kissed you.
There was an intensity and hunger to the kiss which almost knocked off your feet if you haven’t been sitting next to the luxurious water taps.
The older woman knew what she was doing, the rumours turned out to be an understatement in your opinion.
For a second you caught the reflection of the two of you kissing in the big mirror. You both were breathtaking as a couple.
“Maybe you’re right.”, you mumbled against her mouth.
“I told you we looked good together.”, Jenni smirked triumphantly.
In this case the mirrors didn’t lie it reflected the desire you both had for each other. While the men held their speeches and felt very important you had found something much more meaningful.
#jenni hermoso#jenni hermoso x reader#woso x reader#woso#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso oneshot#espwnt#espwnt x reader#woso one shot#woso community#jenni hermoso imagine#woso blurbs#woso request#tigres femenil#barca femeni
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🌙 Moon Phases 🌙
Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader
Word Count: 1652
Chapter 38:
"Time to finish The Road. We are one trial closer to the big score!" She exclaimed and started to lead, making you all follow her down the path.
"Earth magic with no Green Witch." Jen reminded Agatha, since Rio had gone to do her duty and left them behind.
"We're back to square one." Billy agreed.
Agatha rolled her eyes. "Oh, there's plenty of overlap between Earth and Potions, right, Jenny Kale?"
Jen bit back a sarcastic remark. "Some."
"Please. Your last name is a vegetable. Worst kind," Agatha said, reverting back to mean unnecessary comments. "Plus, we have Sugar over here. One extra set of hands. Oh, and don't look at her like that; she is more capable than you think, " she continued, focusing on you.
She even went as far as to slow down so you could catch up with her; only to pinch your cheeks in a playful manner.
At that moment, though, you clearly did not share her humour or her fake optimistic side. You grabbed her wrist and gently lowered her hand away from your cheeks.
"Ags," you called out her name, in a tone she knew too well.
You were catching up to her facade, and her fake smile disappeared. She did not like it when you were using that tone, expecting she would confess what was on her mind.
Sometimes Agatha did that, but right now, those things were the last thing she wanted to think of. And so, she continued on; not truly caring what kind of image she was giving to the others.
She knew in the end, you would never hate her or walk away; and Billy needed her to find his brother. So she had the two of you secured.
Now, if Jen chose to be upset and offended, she didn't care. She was just... Jen.
"I have to be honest," Agatha continued agter giving the small group a dramatic pause. "I'm surprised you survived this long, Kale. My money was on Lilia."
You chose to put your foot down at that moment. No matter how annoying Jen could and had proven to be, that did not mean she deserved to be attacked that way.
"Agatha, enough. This is not the time for comparisons or disrespecting the dead," you commented, making her stop in her tracks. "Show some respect cause we are only here because of Lilia's sacrifice."
Especially when she was still mourning, perhaps being the only member to truly care for Lilia's loss. Cause let's ve honest, Billy never truly came close or cared that much.
And you... well, you hadn't truly bonded with anyone cause you didn't want to. You knew they might die. They might turn on you on the road, and you were strictly there for Agatha.
One last chance to stand by her side for good this time and not let her slip through your fingers, unknown when and if she would return back to you.
But you had failed in that initial plan. All because you had started to warm up to a lost boy with hidden potential under the name of Billy Maximoff.
Agatha fought to keep that fake bitchy smirk and not react to your words. She expected you to comment once in a while, since you akwys did, but to go against her so strongly? So often?
She was not sure she liked that. Perhaps she had been away from you too much, and you had forgotten... forgotten the rules she had laid for you. Rules you had obediently followed.
She would have to change that when this would be all over. You had been astray from the path for too long, but she was not going to let you continue that way, especially with Rio so keen on entering your life and being part of it.
Agatha cleared her throat, controlling her thoughts. "Come on, Sugar. Cheer up!" She said, putting on a mask once again. "What fresh horrors await us! It's's the big finish, so close to us!"
She started to walk again, trying to keep her moon by being dramatic; talking of fireworks and spectacles and.... she tripped..
However, it was what she tripped on that surprised all of you.
"Our shoes." You exclaimed and moved to investigate, ensure your eyes were nor deceiving you.
Much to your surprise and even slight horror, those were your shoes. They were nicely tucked and placed where you all had removed and left them. When you had first started the Road.
It felt as if it had been too long since that took place, while it may as well been a few hours; perhaps a day.
Only then did you truly realize how time disoriented you all had been. How you had almost forgotten where you were and when you started, feeling so much longer than it truly was.
"We're back where we started." Jen realized but did not dare to approach the shoes any closer, as she was reminded of the witches that died before; whose shoes were the only reminders of them left.
"The Witches' Road is a circle. And this is the finish line?" Billy questioned, looking at you and Agatha; since you were the last and only ones to survive the road.
Or so you claimed.
Agatha had the strongest reaction to everything, clearly upset by the sight. She had been through so much in the past few trials, especially that damn spirit trial.
She had been humiliated, trickef, trialled, tired, and by the gods had her patience be tested.
"That's it?" She exclaimed, anger bubbling within her, mimicking a volacon about to erupt or a tsunami ready to sink a whole country with one hit. "That's it?!" She yelled, glaring at the sky at whatever entity our there might be watching and most likely mocking them.
"Well, maybe we passed the trial." Billy suggested, trying to be the optimist in the group and calm down Agatha from pulling her own hair or finding a way to set the whole place in flames.
Agatha turned her head to look at him, her face hard. "Then how exactly do we get off?" She asked rhetorically.
Of course, Billy didn't realize it and tried to anseer it. "Well, maybe we..." she didn't let him finish.
"If you don't know, then keep quiet."
Billy bit his tongue, feeling his own anger flaring up as once again he was treated with so much disrespect; it was ending up to become both annoying and tiring.
"We keep going." Agatha suddenly suggested.
"What?" Jen and Billy exclaimed while you stared at your lover, trying to make sure you heard her correctly.
"We go again. It'll work the second time." She explained, trying to sound certain, but everyone could see that she was not convincing enough.
"Ags, this won't work, and you know it," you said, trying to be the one and get her both to listen and calm down.
Your lover simply pushed her hair off her shoulder. "Of course it will. We have nothing to lose"
Before you could argue or reason with her, Jen interfered; though this time she had a very valid point.
"There is absolutely zero chance, I'm m going to endure that experience again." She said snd you silently agreed with her.
The trials have have exhausting and if by some twisted turn of fate you had to endure them again... you were not ready.
No matter the answers that might be the same, you could also not pass through that again; let alone so soon.
As the three witches argued, with Jen and Agatha being the loudest and you caught in the middle; Billy chose to act.
He was also tired from everything, and he wanted to just be done. He wanted to find Tommy, have his answers, and return to his civilian life. It might not be truly his, but it was a stable thing in his life that didn't consist of backstabbing, people dying, and lies being told so often they mixed with the truth.
"We took them off out of respect for The Road." He started as he stood in front of his shoes and grabbed one . "Screw The Road." And with those words, he put his shoe on.
Yet in that exact moment... he disappeared from sight.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sudden disappearance made the three of you gasp in surprise, none expecting it to happen. Worse was the fact that you didn't know where he went and if what he did was the right choice or the one leading him to his doom.
"So, what do we do know?" Jen dared to ask and look at you and Agatha.
You exchanged a look with your lover, first time sering this. You were unsure of what you should truly do, let alone what you might experience next.
Yet the more you remained in that annoying creepy lurking forest. The more you were reminded of your limited choices and the fact that you had come back to the beginning... the more certain you were of what to do.
Worse case scenario, you were kicked off the Road or killed. Both of those theories felt so much better within your hearts, than spending a minute longer on this hellish road.
"Time to wear our shoes," Agatha said and went first, disappearing as soon as she put her shoes on.
This left you and Jen to exchange a look, your fellow witch clearly not thrilled with the idea and not fully confident that this was the right choice.
She did not want to take any more risks. It was too stressful.
"Not much of a choice," you said, doing a not so good effort in sounding reassuring.
She watched you head for your shoes and put them on, the sight of her watching you the last thing you saw before your vision turned black.
Chapter 39
#agatha all along#agatha x reader#agatha harkness x reader#moon phases fanfic#agatha fanfic#marvel#kathryn hahn#aubrey plaza#agatha harkness#agatha spoilers#lesbian
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i’ve been thinking about this for days but omg jenny green x fem reader with jealous jenny
i think she’d deffo be the type to get jealous but not want to admit it but u can always tell bc she becomes the most passive aggressive woman on earth idk im just lowk insane about jenny it’s bad 😭😭 (I don’t have like any scenario ideas so u can feel free to go nuts on that)
a/n: she'd be so offhand, i can just see it happen! this is kinda short, but i hope you like it nontheless <3
pairing: jealous! Jenny Green x fem!reader
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jenny was just cleaning a few tables in the front of the butcher shop, and you were talking her ear off about this and that.
she enjoyed moments like these, where she could still do her job or whatever else she wanted, while you got to talk about everything and anything.
its just this cute thing between you two, the typical yapper x listener trope, which you both enjoyed a lot.
atleast, usually.
however, ofcourse, to Jenny, something has to ruin the moment.
and that something, is Esther Finch.
she waltzes in, puffing smoke everywhere.
"well, hello there darling, its been a while since ive seen you here" she laughs, and it makes Jenny clench her hand tighter around the wet rag in her hand.
"yes, well, ive been sick for a week or two, but luckily im better now, so i get to keep Jenny company again!" you say excitedly, seeing no harm in conversing with the woman.
"the store is closed" Jenny grumbles at Esther, giving her a subtle glare. Jenny doesn't want to ruin your mood, but she also doesn't want Esther to get your attention.
"right, but i just thought i'd-" "no, get out" Jenny cuts her off, with a sarcastic smile, she gestures at the door.
you pretend to be oblivious, smiling kindly at Esther and waving her off as she leaves, but ofcourse, you know your girlfriend better than that.
the moment Esther is gone, Jenny lets out a sigh, and you get off the table you were sitting on, and hug her from behind, making her breath hitch.
"you know you don't have to be so jealous of Esther, she's not exactly my type..." you murmur softly.
"yeah, i know, i'll try not to next time" Jenny responds with a sigh.
#dead boy detectives#dead boy detectives x reader#jenny green#jenny green x reader#jenny green x fem reader#jenny the butcher#jenny the butcher x reader#esther finch#dbda#dbda x reader
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Planet Earth — Alexia Putellas x Reader with heterochromia
Warnings: none
Word count: 455
Summary: Alexia has the green in her eyes and you have the blue in yours. You both share the brown colour in your eyes. Making them a perfect match.
A/N: This is not proofread at all, sorry if there's any mistakes. I've noticed that Jenni has this eye condition too (a different type from Alexia's, though), so maybe in the future I'll write about her and her beautiful eyes.
You were born with an eye anomaly called complete heterochromia. That implied having one eye of a different colour from the other one. Your left eye was light blue and your right one was dark brown. This was never a problem for you as you grew confidently on your eye condition. As a child, you received some teasings from people from your school, but always snapped back quickly at them.
When you met Alexia, her eyes connected immediately with yours. Her hazel eyes; light brownish, green iris were captivated by your blue and brown ones. She carefully asked about your eye condition. Alexia felt a hunger out of the curiosity to know more about you, even if you had just met some minutes ago.
“It's called heterochromia. There are different types, though. Mine's called complete heterochromia. That means the iris of my left eye is of a different colour from my right's.” You leaned a bit closer to Alexia. Her eyes slightly opening as you came closer to them. She licked her lips unconsciously, but you didn't notice it, as you were too invested in her eyes. “You, for example, have central heterochromia. Your eyes are green, light green to be more specific, but the centre of both of your iris, have a beautiful light brown colour surrounding your pupil.” Alexia smiled, and you couldn't help but notice those beautiful lips for the first time. You were so invested in admiring her eyes, that you didn't focus on her other attributes.
“I had notice that before, but I didn't know it had a name”, she explained. “There's one more type of this condition categorized as sectoral heterochromia, having the iris from two different colours. But don't get confused with this type and your type. Yours occurs in the centre of your eye, around the pupil. This one is like a pizza, as if six slices were blue and two of them were brown.” Alexia giggled, and you found yourself losing in her laugh.
As you remember the first time you met your now girlfriend, you see her entering your room. “It's time to get up, baby girl. We have things to do.” You raised your eyebrows. “Do we? What do you have in mind.” She laughed as she rolled her eyes. “Clean, naughty girl. I was talking about cleaning. It's Sunday.” You groaned as you rolled over the bed and hid yourself under the blankets. “No, Ale, I'm too tired. I'll do it in the afternoon.” Alexia got rid of the blankets and started to wrestle with you playfully. She ended up on top of you, almost out of breath, as your eyes captivated hers one more time, like the very first time you met.
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SPIDER-VERSE
lee minho x spider-woman!reader
[01: call to duty📝]
[10 screenshots/words: 526]
[MASTERLIST][NEXT]
you’re sitting in the passenger seat of minho’s car as you both get closer to your aunts home. you couldn’t wait to see your aunt and brother, you missed them as you been away because of college.
you glance at minho as he drive and smile at him, “don’t you miss them too?”
he glances at you, “not really.” you frown a bit, “how come?” you ask.
he sighs, “i would rather spend my weekend with my cats.”
you roll your eyes at him, “then why did you come with?” you ask.
he sighs, “you think i was going to leave you coming home, alone? you’re wrong.”
“that’s why you’re my best friend.” you smile at him. minho returns the smile but it was a bit sad from your words. he likes you and didn’t have the intention of telling you at all and you had no idea.
➸ time skip
arms wrap around you and spin you around, “you’re finally back!” you giggle as ryujin lets you go. “i missed you so much.”
“i missed you too.” you say as you see jisung runs over to you and hugs you.
“and i’m just chopped liver.” minho mumbles as no one has greeted or hugged him.
jisung rolls his eyes as he lets you go from the hug and went towards him. “well, sorry, that i wanted to hug my sister first.” minho chuckles as they hug, putting their arms on each others shoulders, “can’t wait til you’re my brother in law.”
you and ryujin roll their eyes while minho pushes jisung, blushing. “shut up.”
the four walk into the house, it’s only the four of them as your aunt is working still. all four of you went into the kitchen to get snacks.
“but anyways, when are you going to be my brother in law min?” jisung asks again.
you push your brothers shoulder a bit, “ji, you know we don’t like each other like that.” he just rolls his eyes, “it’s nice to dream.”
your phone dings, you see it’s from the detective you’re working with. “i’ll be back.” you walk into the bathroom to answer his message.
you sneak out the bathroom, texting jisung while doing so. you run between a few building and switch into your spider costume, a nice tight black with white spider web design around it. your wrists move forwards, spitting out webs so you can swing to where detective choi is at.
you land in front of san and jennie, “you made it.” detective kim says with a smile. you return the smile with a nod.
after about an hour, you did eventually catch the guy. you had him wrapped in the your webs, waiting for the authorities to get here. your phone dings and you see it’s minho.
about ten minutes later, san and jennie both arrived with other cops with them. “you’re amazing spider-woman.” jennie smiles, patting your back.
you nod in return, “i have to head out now.” you tell the two and use your webs to bring yourself out of there, rushing back home while changing back into your normal clothing you had on.
✩ TAGLIST: @itsvxlentine @skzswife @jyu-037
#stray kids#fluff#angst#lee know#bang chan#han jisung#lee felix#lee know x reader#lee minho x reader#lee minho#shin ryujin#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#kang yeosang#yang jeongin#choi san#kim jennie#jake enhypen#smau#spider man au#skz fake texts#skz fluff#skz imagines#skz#stray kids imagines#venom#green goblin#sandman#dr octopus
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"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
You can also read on AO3
"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.
dividers by @firefly-graphics
#tom hanniger x reader#tom hanniger x female reader#tom hanniger fanfiction#tom hanniger x y/n#thebiggerbear writes#sleep i'll keep you safe
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October Sun
summary: Wally hadn't been able to make sense of what you'd said. How had it been possible that he and the others had been trapped for so long without knowing it? With that truth out for him to examine, Wally hadn't been sure he'd wanted to look any closer. He'd felt violated. Betrayed. Lost. What other lies had he been unwittingly a part of?
pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader
warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.
bon reading
___________________________💀
OCTOBER SUN pt.14
The world fell away as your words penetrated. Wally stilled, didn't breathe, didn't blink, didn't make a sound. As if he could delay the impact of that truth if he shut down critical functions.
Weakly, "What do you...mean?" Wally croaked, but something deep within himself had always known.
Known it like common sense; the feeling like looking at a green sky and knowing it was supposed to be blue. Like being sick since birth yet knowing that that wasn't what healthy felt like. He'd known and yet never questioned it because he and the others had had no way to be sure their situation was terribly, tragically wrong.
In the earliest days succeeding his untimely demise, Wally had tried to leave the school.
Not to follow his mother home after she'd donated his trophies, helmet, and jacket to display in the stadium entrance. Not to join his friends in Rodney's basement to get stoned after his memorial service. Not to break his own heart by stalking Jenny to the motel where she and her second choice prom date, Gary fucking Reid, lost their virginities together.
Rather, to go for a walk for the sake of getting some air. Despite having been flung back to the field multiple times by then—a lesson that had drilled into him the habit of remaining perpetually vigilant of his surroundings—Wally had had this intrinsic understanding that he could roam beyond what the barrier permitted.
So much so that, one evening, he hadn't kept track of where he'd been going (partly because he'd trusted himself to veer away from the perimeter, but mostly because he'd been relaxed. Not actively chasing down a loved one). It'd been an unconscious series of actions; one foot in front of the other, listening to Eddie Money's Can't Hold Back on a Lost & Found walkman, strolling into the thin smattering of trees on the edge of the grounds, and then wham—
Back to Start.
It had happened a few times after that, too. Rhonda would cackle around her lollipop du jour, roll her eyes, and tell him to, "Get smart, Jockstrap."
When Charley had come along, he'd experienced the same thing. And then Ajay and Katelynn. Learning the lesson after the lesson had been learned. Mr. Martin had calmly and wisely informed them that it was merely the result of not having internalized being dead yet.
But that hadn't sat right with Wally, similar to having been given the excuse of roughhousing when he'd caught his parents in a compromising position one innocuous summer-break afternoon before he'd aged into double digits.
"Babe..." Wally croaked, just above a whisper, the weight of what you'd unveiled slamming into his chest and leaving him winded, "What are you saying?"
Your eyes, marbled and bright—though not outright glowing like they had in the theater—stared right into him for a moment. You were obviously calculating what it meant that Wally couldn't leave the high school, all the hows and whys flittering like dust motes between you and him.
"Unless you're a residual haunter, like Mina or Yuri, you should be able to go wherever you want. How long have you been stuck?"
Wally's throat clicked when he swallowed, "Since I died."
You pressed your forehead to his, hands slotting under his jaw, and, voice laced with grief, said, "That's not possible."
"I mean, maybe it is?" Wally tried to reason, slumping back in his seat and staring at the 5-yard line as he stitched together his own theories based on what he'd learned as an actual dead person. "It's not like ghosts wrote those books you read. Maybe whoever wrote them got it wrong."
Shaking your head, "Actually, they did. Not the physical copies, obviously, but those authors collaborated with ghosts to write those books."
Wally didn't know what to say to that. Didn't know if he could answer a lot of things anymore. Did he even know what it meant to be dead?
You seemed willing wait him out as he turned everything over in his head, one hand on his shoulder, the other lifting the one he'd had on your calf so you could string his arm through your legs and cradle his hand on your belly, your thumb rubbing soothing patterns between the bones.
"What does it mean?" He asked, distant.
Wally could feel himself slipping away, the revelation frosting him from the inside and making him numb. He'd had a similar experience when he'd been fourteen and had broken his collarbone. The pain so intense that his brain had immediately severed its connection to the feeling.
Shock.
"It means that something doesn't want you to leave." You answered once he'd returned his eyes to yours. Your features creased, "Or someone."
Wally felt that statement like a nail through the chest. "How?"
You stared at him helplessly, caressing his cheek and then tilting forward to press your foreheads together again. The action worked to ground Wally, reeled him back from the edge of an existential crisis he wasn't ready to have.
Regretfully, "I don't know, Wally. But we'll figure it out, okay?"
He nodded against you. Closed his eyes and absorbed the warmth of your nearness, the solidity of your touch. Allowed those things to calm him.
"At least we can rule out Mr. A having anything to do with that, right?" Wally snorted in an attempt to lighten the mood.
You pulled back, smiled gently, and nodded, "Right. But he could've used it to his advantage. With her soul stuck here, Maddie wouldn't be able to get back into her body and then go to the police. It also means that he could've safely stashed her body anywhere, so long as he has access to life support."
"You think he dropped her at the hospital?"
"Not here." You said, "Split River isn't big enough to pull that off. He could've driven her to another state? Dropped her off at a big city hospital as a Jane Doe?"
Wally grimaced, shaking his head at the depravity, "That's messed up."
"God, her body could be in Detroit for all we know and it wouldn't get back here until someone in the hospital there made the connection. Unless Sheriff Baxter decides to widen the search."
"Couldn't you ask him? It's like you said, Xavier's your brother from another mother. Wouldn't the sheriff listen to you?"
You didn't seem convinced, reciting in a satire of an upbeat tone, "Hey Sheriff, I think my teacher knocked Maddie out of her body and took it to another state all so she wouldn't tell you about the money he's hiding in his classroom. We should totally look into that."
Wally responded in a responsible manner, "That sounds like an awful idea, let's not do that."
Curling against the back of your seat, voice slightly strangled, you uttered, "So, Maddie's stuck in an In Between 'til I can find her body and bring it back to her."
Wally sensed the granite mass of the pressure you were already putting on yourself. Choosing to steer you out from under it, he diverted the conversation, "Still haven't told me what an In Between is, by the way."
It did the trick, at least for the time being. Your lips quirked up at the corners and the wrinkle between your brows vanished as you informed him, "It's exactly what it sounds like. A plain between plains."
"Yeah, pretty thing, you're going to have to dumb it down more." Wally said, willing to sacrifice his dignity for the sake of making you smile.
Grinning, you set the stage, "Think of plains like different worlds. I'm in the living world, you're in the dead world, right?"
"Got it."
"Now, pretend there are doorways into those worlds. In Betweens are the spaces between the doors." You nibbled your bottom lip and Wally's attention immediately slipped, the urge to lick into your mouth making him twitch. Sweetly unaware, you back-tracked and tried a different avenue, "Not doors...maybe glass walls?"
"The door thing made sense. I mean, I think I get it. In Betweens are those places that anyone can access, whereas the living world is just for the living and the dead world is just for the dead. Am I close?"
"Yeah, you got it." You praised and Wally had to stifle the desire to puff out his chest and preen. "Well, not anyone can access In Betweens, but if your soul can Travel, that's where you go."
"So, when you project, you're in an In Between." Wally stated, though he was hedging for clarification.
"Exactly."
"And you said Maddie's stuck in an In Between, too, right?"
Wally saw the moment you clocked where he was going with that train of thought.
With a lamenting sigh, you said, "Unfortunately, In Betweens are complex. They're unique to all kinds of things like bloodlines and soul-ties—" Wally opened his mouth to ask, but you got there first, "—incredibly deep bonds you make in life with another person." He closed his mouth and listened as you elaborated. "So, me and my great-aunt enter the same In Between and can see each other. But Maddie..."
"Isn't blood?"
"And she and I weren't close enough to form the type of bond you'd need to Travel the same In Between. Either she'd have had to invite me into hers or I'd have had to invite her into mine. It's extremely intimate. Not something you do with someone you only hang out with in a group." You perked up and finally gave Wally a full, supernova smile. "I actually wrote you some notes."
The implication conjured an image of you scribbling notes for him under light cast from a laptop screen, kicking your feet as you lay on your bed like a schoolgirl. All so that he could understand the twisty, twiddly secrets of the universe...
He swooned, barely holding back a wistful exhale.
And then his brain ticked back a few frames to you on an unmade bed. The collar of the oversized t-shirt Wally hoped you owned bearing one shoulder, and the smooth skin of your legs on display.
He couldn't care less about the state of his deadness now, and what it meant that he couldn't leave the school grounds. Instead, he let a slow, devilish smirk slant across his mouth, emboldened by hormones and how receptive you were as he leaned into your space.
He slid his hand from yours and placed it on your thigh, "Gonna let me copy your homework, baby?"
"Gotta get those grades up before the big game." You played along, "Don't want you kicked off the team."
Without hesitation, Wally struck, halfway out of his seat, hand gripping the armrest behind you to hold himself up. He loomed over you, little thing that you were, squished into your seat and completely caged in by him. He hovered, heard your breath hitch, and watched your gaze go hazy.
"Lucky to have a girl like you on my side, then, huh?" Wally said, voice rough, tightly controlled, closing the distance between your lips in increments.
You reached up, wrapped your arms around his neck, "Damn right, big shot," and dipped in.
A throat cleared somewhere over Wally's shoulder, from behind and moderately above, and drove him back into his seat at Mach speed, his hold on you resituating to a socially acceptable place on your ankle. The interruption was accompanied by that arcing of gravity that emitted from a living body which meant Wally was once more on the outside looking in.
"Okay there, hot shot, time to get moving. Students aren't s'posed to be up here outside'a game time." The maintenance worker said, illicit cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth.
Wally noticed the man wasn't quite looking at you, and, for the first time, he had to wonder what the hell people saw when you and he were together while you were still in your body.
You pulled yourself up as fast as the angle allowed you to without injury, foot still tucked in Wally's lap. As soon as your head peeked above the back of your seat, the maintenance worker clutched a hand to his heart and plucked the cigarette from his lips.
"Jesus, girl, you can't do that to folks." He scolded you, southern accent thickening, "Lookin' like a zombie comin' out the grave or what."
"Sorry," You said and sounded as puzzled as Wally was by the man's overreaction.
"Just hurry up and get goin'." His eyes swept in a strange pattern, away from you then back then away, fixing on a point that would have been Wally's nose if he weren't invisible. "You kids these days thinking you can be wherever you wanna be, huh? Ignoring the rules, like they don't apply to you..."
God, this guy. "Can it, asshole. Give her a minute to get up." Wally snapped, bolstered by the fact that the man couldn't hear him. "Bet you're bent outta shape because all that nicotine makes your dick about as useful as a wet napkin."
He heard you choke on a laugh that you quickly masked under a cough.
The man squinted, lips pursed in aggravation. Surprisingly, he departed with no more than a gruff, "Get gone!" and stuck his half-burned cigarette back into his mouth.
Wally glared after him as the man marched up the stairs toward a ladder open beneath a curtain of cables and metal that spilled from the ceiling. Clearly, the man had been in the middle of fixing something when he'd seen you.
"Fucker." Wally grumbled. He patted your leg, pressed a kiss to your knee before he released you.
"I appreciated the support," You giggled, "Even if it doesn't do much on my side of things, it's nice to know you have my back."
"I've always got you, baby." Wally vowed as he unfolded himself and rose to his feet. He couldn't help tacking on, "Every bit of you," with a wink that made you pink up so prettily.
You wetted your lips, ducked your face into your shoulder; shy after you'd been caught in what might’ve been a very awkward position. "I'm starting to get that."
Wally let you take the lead, enjoyed how you brushed up against him as you shuffled out of the row and onto the stairs. He shot the man one last angry look as he grabbed his jacket and then turned to trail you across the field and out of the stadium.
At the top of the grandstand, feet from the ladder, the man examined his cigarette through a profoundly glum expression.
With a grunt, he dropped it to the ground and crushed it under the thick sole of his work boot, simultaneously pulling the crumpled, two-from-empty pack out of his breast pocket and whipping it into a nearby trashcan.
💀___________________________
PART THIRTEEN - PART FIFTEEN
also available on AO3!
MASTERLIST
#Milo Manheim#Wally Clark#Wally Clark x Reader#fem!reader#Wally Clark smut#Wally Clark fanfiction#Milo Manheim fanfiction#School Spirits#zed necrodopolis#Disney Zombies#October Sun
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dating scandal.
f1 au: in which, you’re a famous k-pop idol, 4th member of the girlgroup blackpink. you’ve never had one dating scandal in your career and fans have praised you for it, but things get complicated when pictures of you and a mysterious guy are posted online.
lando norris x kpop idol!reader
fc: kim jennie.
note: if you’re not familiar with kpop and blackpink, user lalalalisa_m, sooyaa_ and roses_are_rosies are the other members, and yg is their company!
liked by lalalalisa_m, sooyaa_, roses_are_rosies and 3 789 008 others.
y/n: been busy xx missing you blinks <3
_
fan1: WE MISS YOU TOO Y/N
fan2: pls rest and eat well :(
fan3: my queen is booked and busy
fan4: i love you so much!!
fan5: my queen
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y/n just posted a story!
liked by lalalalisa_m, landonorris, sooyaa_ and 6 792 929 others:
y/n: it’s true. i’m so sorry that you guys have to find out from someone else, i really wanted to announce it with my own words. i’ve been hiding this little guy for a year now, we met at a fashion event and i immediately fell for those gorgeous green eyes, the rest is history. i know that some of you are going to be disappointed in me, but i want you to know that i’ve never been happier than i am right now. i love this guy so much, thank you for being by my side lando norris <3
_
lalalalisa_m: AWWWWW SO CUTE
sooyaa_: FINALLY the secret is out
roses_are_rosies: my fav couple <3
landonorris: i am so lucky to be loved by you
fan1: i am so shocked but this is too cute
fan2: wtf…
fan3: well, i didn’t see this coming BUT congrats!
fan4: they look so in love, we must support them!
fan5: why him? you could do so much better…
fan6: @.fan5 fuck off bitch
liked by y/n.
view all 90 799 comments.
liked by y/n, carlossainz55, oscarpiastri and 1 900 091 others.
landonorris: i am the luckiest man on earth and i know it, why you said yes to be my girlfriend last year is still a mystery to me because you deserve so much better. but i’m not complaining because i don’t see my life without you, if you ever leave my world you’d take the colours of it with you. thank you for loving me y/n, i promise to be worthy of your love.
_
y/n: AWWWWW lando i just cried! i love you so much lover boy, and STOP saying that i deserve better, i’ve never been happier
lalalalisa_m: break her heart and i’ll break your legs.
y/n: @.lalalalisa_m LISA WTF
landonorris: @.lalalalisa_m yes maam! 🫡
danielricciardo: idk if this is the cutest thing i’ve ever read or the most disgusting
landonorris: @.danielricciardo fuck off
carlossainz55: who knew lando was a poet?
fan1: WHO SAID LANDO DIDN’T DESERVE Y/N??
fan2: if i see one more hate comment towards them i’ll commit a murder
fan3: i am still in shock but they’re actually so cute
fan4: god i see what you do for others
view all 55 899 comments.
#f1 au#f1 fandom#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 instagram au#f1 social media au#f1 x oc#f1 x reader#f1 x you#lando norris x you#lando norris x female reader#lando norris x reader#lando norris x y/n#lando norris#ln4 x reader#ln4#lando norris x oc#formula one x y/n#formula one x reader#formula one x oc#formula one x you#formula 1
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