Grace ✨

I hope you’re having a nice day!

[itt0-main]

It's my 3 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

[arziiill]

When the author of a fanfic recommends a song for the chapter and its buns

[starg0ld]

[if-loves]

a moment of freedom (let's open your eyes)

// Yandere Flins

sum: finally, you've gathered the courage to ask your captor to let you go. the only thing is, he's all too happy to see you go.

wc: 1529

warnings: yandere content, gn reader, reader mentioned to be shorter than flins

a/n: tbh i kinda wanted to do smth like chasing but that did not happen... meh maybe i'll try again later

masterlist

"I want to leave, Flins."

You can hardly meet Flins's eyes when you say this, afraid of the gaze you would face. These five measly words have already taken all the courage you've finally been able to muster after however long you've been trapped in his grasp, and you're still afraid to look at him, to see his disappointment, maybe even anger.

An almost unnoticeable hum permeates the still air, sending a gust of cold air in your direction. The lights on the wall flicker ever so slightly, a momentary dim before they continue as if nothing ever happened.

In all your time spent with Flins, you've started to notice things about him, like how he hardly eats any food, or takes any sleep, and how he always walks with a dignified air about him. It's easy for his presence to go unnoticed, always one to linger quietly, observing instead of participating. And that's the thing you've grown to hate the most about him.

He watches and watches and watches, like a scientist observing a newly discovered species, saying nothing with both his tongue and his gaze. You've never been able to speak to him without honeyed words leaving his lips, truth and lie and everything in between melted together until one is inseperable from the other. He tells you it's only been a few weeks since he's brought you here, but it always feels longer, like it's been years.

Even when he leaves at night for his patrols do you hardly feel safe enough to leave. You did try, in the beginning. He left the door unlocked one day, probably knowing you were going to use this as an attempt to escape, and you walked right into his hands when you did leave.

The only thing that stopped you were the ghosts that littered the area, all of them turned to you with their faceles gazes, inching closer and closer until you bolted right back inside, door locked and mind chained. Flins arrived home hours later, humming to himself while he unlocked the door, taking a glance at your curled position on the bed and smiling.

There's not much different now from that time, you think. Flins says nothing to the words you've placed all your hopes in, sat comfortably by his table, observing in his hands the white fang of an unknown monster. He twists the bone in his fingers, before he finally sets it down with a quiet yet all too loud clack. Now, you have his undivided attention.

"You want to leave?" Flins stands, walking to where you stand by the door. Instinctively, your hands start to sweat, heart beginning to race, as a sense of dread creeps up your spine. When he finally stands in front of you, one of his gloved hands gently grips your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his unreadable golden ones.

You try so hard to sound confident, to convince him that you want this, but all that comes out is a tentative 'yes'.

As if mocking you, he leans down until his lips hover by your ear, his long hair brushing against your chin. "Say it again."

"Yes." It comes out stronger this round, steeled by your desperation, and Flins seems to accept this, standing back to his full height. A small smile graces his mouth, hands now holding your face gently, and if these circumstances were one made from love, you would've called it romantic.

"I see." He presses a firm kiss to your head, breathing in your scent, before his smile grows wider and his hands fall limp to his sides. "Go, then. I won't stop you."

Flins returns to his desk and the fang, back to studying the tooth like you didn't just ask him to leave. He's awfully unreactive to this, and that's what sends your instincts into a frenzy of fear. They tell you that he's planning something, that he knows something you don't. That there's no way he would let you go so easily.

But he did. Or did he?

Should you pick apart Flins's disposition to make sense of his answer, further confining yourself to his chains, or should you take the chance you've been given and leave before he changes his mind? Would he look for you, find you, and drag you back all for the thrill of the chase, or would he let you live in tranquility before quietly taking you back, all to rip freshly planted hope from your hands?

There's little time for you to ponder his decision if you want to escape. You make it a point not to look back at him when you leave, haphazardly taking a bottle of water and sprinting out of the door and straight into the dense fog that surrounds the lighthouse.

The white fog grows thicker and thicker the more you walk through, until you've forgotten the direction you originally came from. Still, you're determined to continue, embers of hope enough to ignite your desire to run far, far away from this accursed place and the monster that lives in its plains.

But the fog is starting to feel less like a hindrance and more like a trap, wrapping around you like a floating prison. Along with it comes whispers, desperate cries of mercy and bygone memories. The sensations are overwhelming in their existence, allowing you not even a second of thought, invading your space and tearing at your already fragile mind.

From the corner of your eyes, a brief flash of purple enters your vision, disappearing just as quickly as it appeared. The first thing you register is the unfamiliar weight in your feet, rending you still. The second thing you register is a shiver running down your spine. The third and final thing you register, are two words. Wild Hunt.

What were you thinking, leaving? Flins offered you a home, a quiet and calm life, and most of all, he offered you safety. Safety from the cruelty of life, safety from the Wild Hunt, safety from an existence plagued with endless hardships. Flins protected you, and asked for nothing in return. Nothing, except your love, and neither did he ever truly force you to love him, nor force himself onto you. Flins… Flins loves you.

The fog wraps around you tighter as more glimpses of deep purple flash in increasingly regular intervals, your heart pounding in your chest but your legs refusing to move. You're stuck in the same place, at the epicentre of the fog, surrounded by the whispers of aggrieved souls, with your own sure death approaching.

Was death worth this momentary freedom?

Your eyes screw shut as you attempt to accept your impending death, tears gathering at your lids. What was the point of your pathetic existence? On your own, you amounted to nothing. No one searched for you, no one cared about you, and the only person that did, you left him behind because of something as foolish as freedom, offering yourself up as a sacrificial lamb under the guise of living for yourself.

You want Flins. You want him to save you, bring you home, back into his safe arms. His unreadable expressions and sweet words are infinitely better than the bitterness of life. But you left him, when he offered you nothing but love and protection. Why would he want you back? Maybe you do deserve this death. Maybe this is your punishment, maybe you should die -

You feel him before you see him, his presence cold as ice but accompanied by a warm, candle-like flame. It surrounds you gently, hugging you and bringing you back from the edge, and you know without any doubt that it is Flins.

Your eyes open, scared of the potential of a disappointing reality, but his pale skin and unmistakable blue hair tell you that it is anything but an illusion. His hands, firm yet still with an underlying gentleness, hold you protectively, and for the first time, you feel safe.

"Flins…" You breath out, something between a gasp and a sigh of relief. He looks down at you at the call of his name, golden eyes shrouded with a layer of mystery like always.

Then, he smiles, and quietly guides you back to the lighthouse.

For the first time, it feels like home.

"I'm sorry!" You cry, clinging to him as your tears wet his clothes. It's all you can say as sobs and hiccups take control of your mouth, but Flins doesn't criticise you, nor does he lecture you. He only soothes you with practiced actions, a hand caressing your head gently, the other holding onto your waist to remind you that you're safe.

"It's okay," he cooes with a soft voice, pressing a loving kiss to the top of your head. "You're safe now."

And in that moment that's all that matters to you. Not the sudden fog, not the unusual crowding of ghosts, and not the sudden disappearance of the apparent Wild Hunt upon his arrival. It doesn't matter, not anymore, because you're safe again, in the loving arms of the one person that holds you most dear to his heart.

[the-toastr-rat]

I know it's a little early, but it's good to let people prepare!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Farmer's Daughter 19

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Between the dancing and the cake and all the well-wishes, you’re dizzy. Weddings aren’t so wonderful when you’re the one getting married. When you’re expected to perform. Not just for the guests but for your husband.

Walter keeps his hand firmly on your lower back as he smiles proudly as your great aunt. Or maybe a third or fourth cousin twice removed? You’re too tired to keep track.

Your cheeks puff out as you repress a yawn. Walter slides his hand around your hip and pulls you closer.

“Pardon us, I think my wife is getting close to her limit,” he purrs.

“No, no, don’t let us keep you.” Ruth clasps your hand. “Congratulations, dear. We’re all so happy for you.” Her smile wilts. “And sorry to hear about your father.”

Despite many proclaiming this day to be the happiest of your life, you can’t agree. For every smile, there’s a looming frown. Your father was once the life of these things. He loved to drink and sing along to the outdated music. Now, he just sits there.

“Long day,” Walter intones as he leads you away. “Let’s say good night.”

“Okay,” you agree softly.

You hide another yawn in your hand. He brings you over to your mother as she wearily pets your father’s hand. He’s asleep in his chair.

“Oh, ma, you should take him to bed.” You say.

“I didn’t want to… miss anything,” she stands from the bench. “Oh, I am so happy for you. I remember our day. I slept like a log that night.”

You nod and force a smile. She hugs you.

“We’re just going to call it a night,” Walter says. “Think everyone’s ready to turn in.”

“I think you’re…. Right,” she fans herself as another yawn threatens to rise. “You two go. I’ll see everyone off.”

“Ma, you sure? It’s our wedding.” You grab onto her hand. Suddenly, you don’t want to go. Not with Walter.

“It’s your special day. Let me give you this gift.” She squeezes your hand. “Enjoy your night. Remember it. One day, you’ll want it back.”

Your heart plucks as her eyes glimmer glumly. You look at your dad as he snores. It’s nice to see him at peace.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Walter takes your hand and draws you away.

You’re stopped several times before you can escape. Your cousin Sandra says she’ll invite you to her wedding, whenever that comes. And your Aunt Ellie makes a bawdy comment about your wedding night. You try to hide behind Walter as he leads you past the stragglers.

His truck is parked behind the barn. You slow as you don’t recognise it at first. There are flowers and foliage framing the open bed and another cluster on top of the roof. It’s all dressed up like you and him.

“Wow… pretty,” you say.

“Wanted to make it special.” He shrugs as he brings you closer. “You just get in and rest your eyes, honey.”

He opens the door and helps you up into the truck. He snatches up the hem of your dress and tucks it between your ankles before he shuts you in. You shrink in the seat and stare out at the moonlight fanning over the dark fields.

His weight shifts the axle as he climbs in. He turns the engine and grips the steering wheel with one hand; his other finds yours. He clasps on as he drives around the bard and toward the long country road.

His hand is hot and heavy around yours. Sweat rises on your skin as heat simmers in your veins. This is it. The first night of the rest of your life.

Your head lolls and you watch out the window. He might let you sleep. You’re exhausted. Or maybe he’ll make it quick. You shiver and he squeezes your hand.

“You alright, sweetheart?” He asks.

“Mhmm,” you hum. “It’s late.”

“Yeah…” He drawls.

You squint through the dark as he takes a turn you don’t expect. He doesn’t head for his homestead, instead, he rolls up the large hill overlooking the forest. The outlook gives a view of half the village.

He lets you go and cranks the shifter as he stops. He gets out and you sit up. You can’t see through the dark. You hear him as he opens the back of the truck bed. You can feel him climb in and moving around.

You turn to watch floating lights appear around the vines and petals that trim the back of the truck. The axle bounces again and his footsteps crunch toward your door. He swings it open and offers his hand.

You let him help you out. You stumble in your heels and catch yourself against him. He quickly wraps you up in his thick arm and guides you around the back of the truck.

Small electric string lights glow against the foliage and light the soft cushions set within the truck bed. A mattress lines the bottom and petals litter the edges. You stare in disbelief.

“Like it?” He asks.

It’s beautiful. More than that, it shows care. It shows very deliberate planning. How much more did he plan than just this?

He moves around you and frames your hips with his large hands. He lifts you and you gasp in surprise. You catch yourself on the open door of the truck bed and crawl up onto the cushy mattress. He lets you go and hauls himself up after you.

You turn to sit and he falls down next to you. He stretches his arm behind your shoulders and sighs. You rub your elbow nervously as you look up at the sky.

“It’s nice up here…” he says.

“Yeah…” you agree weakly and squirm.

He leans in and his nose brushes your temple. He kisses your cheek. You tense.

“You’re so beautiful,” he purrs. “Especially right now.”

He dips his head down and kisses your shoulder. You shiver. He nuzzles your neck and pulls you to him. He turns you slightly in his embrace as he reclines.

He finds your mouth and you squeak. He rolls onto his side and cradles your head as he presses his lips firmly to yours. His tongue barges into your mouth as you brace his chest. Your own is thumping.

You knew this moment was coming all day. You dreaded it. Waited for it. Yet you are not ready for it. You aren’t ready for him.

[itt0-main]

If this series has no fans I’m dead

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Farmer's Daughter 18

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

“It was your grandmother’s dress.” Your mom brings in the hanger with the antique white garment.

The gown has cap sleeves and a simple bodice, with tiered layers on the skirt. There’s no train but you prefer it that way. That’s just how it is living in the backwoods. It’s all simple and practical.

Well, things aren’t so simple anymore.

“It’s pretty,” you say.

“I think so. Your pa’s mom. Not mine. He saved it for you. I remember…” she smiles dreamily. “When he got it, he was so excited. He said you’d be the prettiest bride.”

You nod and touch the fabric. You swallow and blink hotly. Those waves of tears keep threatening. It isn’t Walter. Not just him. It’s everything piling up on you. The farm, your pa, and Timothy’s not so subtle digs.

“I’m going to go sit with him,” you say. “That okay?”

“Sure. I think he’d like that,” she says. She turns the dress to her and admires it. “Shouldn’t have to alter it much neither.”

You leave her to her planning. She’s more into it than you. She’s already plotting how to set the chairs outside and what flowers to put on the little wicker arch. All those details just make you want to run away.

You go to the living room. The nurse left about twenty minutes ago. Your dad’s in his chair, like he always is. You pull up the little stool your ma sits on and put your hand on his. He doesn’t react.

“Hey pa,” you caress his knuckles. He stares at the wall behind you. “How’s it going?”

Nothing. You don’t expect anything different. You know not to. But it doesn’t make it any easier.

“DId you hear?”

The question hangs.

Silence.

“I’m getting married… to Walter. Mr. Marshall.” You curl your fingers around his thick hand. “And ma showed me the dress. It’s so beautiful and we’re going to do it here so you can… you can…”

You fold over and rest your head on his hand. You clutch him tightly as your eyes sting. You sniffle. You stay like that, letting the grief roll over you.

His finger twitches. You recoil. You mop your face as you cling to his hand with one of yours. You look at him. He’s looking at you.

“I’m going to be happy. I don’t want you to worry about that.” You squeeze again. “And we’re going to keep the farm. Get all the tilling done. It’s going to be okay.”

You don’t know if you’re telling him so much as you’re telling yourself. You make yourself smile. You stand and kiss your pa’s forehead.

“I love you.” You lean your head on his. “Thank you. For everything.”

🌲

There are two weeks between the proposal and the wedding. You tell Walter you want it quick. Before the summer ends.

You’re both busy. You, listening to your mother plan your nuptials; him owning up to his end of the bargain. In the field, with Timothy. Until that day. That day.

You’re tired. Your mother woke up at dawn but you were already awake. You didn’t sleep.

You have tea and toast with butter. It’s the only thing that won’t turn your stormy stomach. The day is very much the opposite. The sun rises in a lazy yellow tint.

Your mother wrestles with your hair as you watch out the window. Your Aunt Charlene is below. She arrived two days ago to help with the decorations. You’re numb to the inevitability before you. Almost relieved to have it so close. Just get it done with.

There’s a knock at the door as your mother tells you to look in the mirror. She answers as you go to see you check your reflection but you don’t see. You just look past yourself.

“Hey,” Timothy says. “Sis.”

You stand up and face him. “Timmy.”

He wrings his hands as he wears a pair of grey slacks and a button up. The latter is borrowed from your pa. He looks better than most days.

“I… I came to say uh, good luck, or something,” he slouches awkwardly. “I don’t know what you’re supposed to say but… but I should say something. ‘Cause I’m your brother and I love you.”

“Love you too, Tim,” you say.

“And… and I was a jerk and Walter still did all that work so. I’m an idiot.” He looks down at his shoes.

You sweep across the room and hug him. You don’t think you’ve done that since you were kids. He flinches but hugs you back.

“Thank you,” you whisper into his shirt.

“Timothy,” your mother nears. “Your hair is sticking up in the back. Go fix it.”

You pull away and chuckle as you look at him. “She’s right.”

“Hey,” he scowls and stomps out.

You exhale as your mom closes the door. “Should start with the makeup. Then the dress. Oh, and can’t forget the veil.”

As your mother attends you like lady-in-waiting, you can hear Aunt Charlene herding the guests. It’s coming soon. You feel your heart ticking like the clock.

You step into the dress and your mother ties the laces. Then she pins in the veil. The shoes are flats. You refused anything with a heel.

Your mom leads you out the door and down the hall. The hubbub of the waiting crowd grows as you get downstairs. She hands you a bouquet of sunflowers wrapped in a thick ribbon.

The nurse pushes in your father in his wheel chair. He’s in his best suit. His only suit. They go out first.

Through the window, you see the nurse sit at the end of a row as your mother waits with your dad in the aisle. You go out, clasping tight the flowers, and come up beside them.

You blink and the sun disappears behind a cloud. You can see clearly. The chairs set in the dirt, the guests craned around to see you, the pastor beneath the archway, and another man.

Walter. He wears a tailored suit. The jacket is forest green and his slacks are white. His bow tie matches the jacket and his shirt is black. It’s perfectly quaint but handsome. The cut of it makes him look even taller and thicker.

His curls are tamed and combed back and his beard is trimmed. A violin begins to play and you start down the aisle with your hand on your father’s wheelchair. You take each step cautiously.

Walter doesn’t look away. He stares at you, fixated by you. You lose sight of him as the sun comes out. You turn your back to it as you come up to the archway and stand across from your soon-to-be husband.

He offers his large hands as your mother rolls your father along the front row. You take them and peer up into his blue eyes. He grins and mouths to you, “you’re beautiful.”

He’s perfectly handsome and perfectly sweet. So why does this all feel so imperfect?

[darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King Masterlist

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Status: In Progress

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

Part 16

Part 17

Part 18

Part 19

Part 20

Part 21

Part 22

Part 23

Part 24

Part 25

Part 26

Part 27

Part 28

[the-weeperrrrrrr]

Mutual hangout idea we all take an autism test and tell each other the % in the tags

[charl0ttan]

what did u get

0-10

11-20

21-30

31-40

41-50

51-60

61-70

71-80

81-90

91-100

Voting ended onFeb 26

[vinylv1]

I got 84-100 (of course)

@blairefrances @bamthebatmobile @sentient-car-hell @haileycakesworld @gerydabirb @hopperdoodles

[gerydabirb]

51 out of 100, huh, I never thought that

@sentient-car-hell @fuckingmonsterjammed @strawberry-hii @stoohpidkudio @temmie-temmie @skillfullymoltenbehemoth @komod0 @sp3ctralrattl3r @shr7bth3d33r @mangomi16 and anyone who wants to join

[strawberryhiii]

59 - 100 🍍

@professional-meower-vinny @mxshrimp @lunathetunaaa

[professional-meower-vinny]

55 dang

@compulsivegatherer @thatonebrackletdog

[thatonebrackletdog]

71... anyways @deadlydevout @erbrechen44 @clockwisest

[deadlydevout]

91... hehe..

@agepoyolo @lovelycutiemoekochan @gnabnahcgi @vmpregutz @lacedsuicide @aifonv @internetchan39 @potatomaster39 @reallyapuppy @cutieblossom @kawaiicon-0 @chok3onlollip0pz404 @browserloser101 @eddielovepink @wuthering-on-ashes @darkangel404 @thatonebrackletdog @themorbiddarling @gomiware @noaseuphoria @cry-all-the-timee @obssessivepuppie @razorbladed-sugarcoated @boytoyfailure @2neet4u @soft-strawberry-cloud @immuu4life @censoredbeloved @hauntingkotoko @themorbiddarling @laxelullaby @starfizzydolly @ny4n-s0d4 @jirai-nene-is-back @angelwingzzs @needyentity + anyone else that wantz to!!!

[heustons]

DAVID HARBOUR as JIM HOPPER stranger things 1.01・the vanishing of will byers

[shimisstuff]

The new cover inspired all of this, it’s not my fault 😭

18+ on Patreon

[itt0-main]

Me next 🙋‍♀️

[miss-hunt3r]

My hubby...why he's so cute 😭😭

[calebs-slavicgirl]

here's what the mc's childhood friends look like btw!!!

[itt0-main]

BLEHHHHHHH BLEHEHEHEHEHEHEEHHE both both are good

[tinybrooms]

Our Last Day, or maybe the first?.. - Thomas Hewitt x fem. Reader

Summary: Is Thomas last day on the slaughterhouse and a pretty girl is going to help him today...or forever

Warning: Murders, Workplace Harassmen, hard vocabulary

NOTE: This is my second one shot and it's pretty long, maybe i am thinking about a second part so let me know if you want that, hope you like it, comments and feed back is always welcome.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

A few months had passed since your work at the slaughterhouse had started, you were one of the few people who had been able to access education and that had given you the opportunity to work as the supervisor's secretary.

Your days were longer than normal dealing with the male staff who looked at your body with desire and said rude comments every time you passed beside them, as did your boss who took the opportunity a couple of times to touch your ass "by accident'' and called you to his office for useless tasks that ended with indecent comments.

They were all idiots, all except Thomas, he just dedicated himself to his work and every time you said "good morning" he responded with a slight grunt while bowing his head a little, always a gentleman like his mama taught him.

-I see you're already packing - your supervisor looked at you from the door frame while you put your things in a cardboard box.

-Yes, I'm almost done - you looked at him smiling kindly trying to ignore the uncomfortable look he had on your butt that was visible in your pencil skirt.

-Leave that there for a moment, I need you to go down and tell Thomas that he has to go, the animal is still cutting meat and doesn't want to go home - the old man took off his glasses, wiping them on his shirt regardless of the worried expression on your face.

-Do I… should I go? sir, I think the best thing would be…

-It's an order, you still work here, that's why I didn't want to hire women, they're always so useless- the disgusting man laughed mockingly as he walked to his office - get off your ass and get down right now

Your gaze quickly fixed on the large window of what was your place from where you could clearly see Thomas hitting the pieces of meat with his sharp knife making a sound against the wooden table, it took you a few seconds to take a breath and pass saliva to get down, the aroma of raw meat disgusted you too much, just like the blood spread all over the place, that was what bothered you more than anything else.

-Hello..Hello Thomas - you smiled behind his back while your hands played nervously in front of you - well, I think they had already informed you that the slaughterhouse is going to close today and..- you sighed, adjusting your cat-eye glasses on your nose sighing holding on not to get dizzy with the intense aroma of meat - and well you must go home

Thomas paused a little but after a few seconds he hit the flesh again with such force that he made you jump on your heels.

-Thomas…please don't make this more difficult, I don't want them to come down and scold you like they always do- Your voice lowered a little, almost in a whisper, trying not to let your supervisor hear you and get you both in trouble, but Thomas just continued ignoring your advice

-Don't you listen to what she said you damn animal? You won't work here anymore, go home with your stupid family - your supervisor came down the stairs, standing halfway screaming in the distance, making the huge man turn around with his knife in his hand, squeezing it so hard that his knuckles seemed like they would break the skin from his hand

Your eyes looked with at the man with glasses and then at Thomas with fear that something would happen, after all you were in the middle and the tension of both collided with your small and fragile body, that was when your poor gaze weakened between you in the dark and humid environment, you could notice how Thomas's hand was shaking and his breathing was agitated making his chest rise and fall.

-Thomas..please - with fear your hand extended making the giant barely look at you through his long locks of hair - no…it's not worth it - with fear you took his hand, it was the first time Thomas felt the skin of a woman against his and despite the anger he felt, his breathing was not still agitated because of it, but because of the delicate way your skin felt against his - give me that, I'll put it here okay? -You looked at him slowly taking the knife, placing it on the table and you smiled shyly walking away a few steps slowly so that he wouldn't feel threatened.

-That's it damn idiot, I bet you've never felt that before, huh?, You'll get so hard with this bitch that you'll forget why you came here- The disgusting old man laughed as he returned to his office, leaving the two of you alone, tense and nervous.

Thomas just looked at the floor shyly, he knew he was right, no one had ever touched him even by accident and that made him feel vulnerable.

-It's okay Thomas, don't worry about what he says go home, I hope you and your family are okay - you smiled at him again, turning around in a hurry, almost running to the bathroom, you could feel a knot in your stomach because of all the vices and meat that were scattered on the tables, crossing the long corridor in a hurry until you reached the bathroom where as soon as you opened the door you vomited.

Your knees on the cold floor and your hands holding your own hair made it impossible for you to hear what was happening outside, retching made your eyes water and after a few minutes with shaky legs you stood up wiping your lips with the front of your hand.

You took a little longer looking at yourself in the mirror, fixing the lipstick that had been ruined with your fingers and carefully washing your hands, always taking care of your image as mom had taught you since you were a girl.

After that you went to your desk putting away the few things that were left, a couple of photographs and your notebooks with notes that maybe would no longer work at all but you still wanted to keep them, after all they were from your first job so with the box of cardboard full of your belongings under your arm you prepared to go say goodbye to your boss.

-I'm done sir, is there anything I can do… -your feet stopped dead looking at the completely destroyed office, the desk was broken in half and there we re objects thrown all over the place- sir? - You walked in fear towards what looked like a pair of destroyed legs under the wood of the table and as soon as you got closer you could notice the old man lying in a pool of blood with his head shattered.

The box under your arm slid hard, making it sound on the floor as it fell while your hands covered your face and a loud scream came from your throat and you took steps backwards trying to get out of the traumatic scene until your back collided with a firm figure making you spin fast.

There was Thomas, looking at you with his strong breathing and his dark eyes like you had never seen before while he held a chainsaw in his hand.

-Thom..Thomas-you looked at him scared, walking back again in fear looking at his hand-leave…leave that, leave it on the floor

Only a growl came out of his throat, answering you firmly and confusedly, but it was definitely a refusal to your request.

-Please…don't hurt me, I won't say anything, I promise -your wet eyes and your heavy breathing made him doubt, of course you were going to say something, but in the same way he didn't want to hurt you, you were always kind to him, you were the only person who noticed him when he arrived and who received him every morning wishing him a good day.

Your eyes and his were staring at each other, as if either of you were waiting for a movement from the other to attack or to scream, whoever acted first was going to react to the other, but the sound of a car interrupted making both of you look towards the front door which after a few seconds opened and they both could notice Officer Hoyt entering with the gun in his hand.

-It's the police…- you looked at him again, curious as to how they could find out about the crime - Thomas, they are going to arrest you, if they find you they will take you with them.

The big man looked at the floor confused, realizing what he had done and a fear began to grow in him, not knowing what to do to remedy the mistake he had made.

-Come with me - you approached with fear, careful not to make any movement that would make him believe that you were going to attack him or that you were going to run away and again your hand held his so delicately that once again Thomas felt special - I will get you out of here

You hurriedly pulled his hand, his huge body almost following you, looking behind you in fear of being discovered, but at the same time in his mind he kept having that curiosity about how you had decided to help him after what he did, he was a murderer and what he had done was wrong

-Come, here there is a door through which we entered, it is far from the main door, no one will notice - you looked at him to make sure that he remained calm and after a few minutes walking you let go of his hand to push the door with both hands and help him escape - no one will find you if you get home quickly

Thomas shook his head, approaching you again but this time extending his hand, offering it to you while his head remained down and his eyes avoided looking at yours.

-Do you…do you want me to go with you? -You looked at him curiously with a little fear and he just slowly shook his hand indicating that he wanted you to take it so you carefully approached taking his hand, following his step when he began to walk without bothering his chainsaw in the other hand

The road was silent at first, just the two of you both walking along the side of the road under the strong Texas sun, at no time letting go of the other's hand, which in the same way if you wanted to you couldn't do it, his hand was huge and strong making Yours will be hidden between his thick fingers.

-And…is anyone from your family at home right now? -You looked at him curiously, feeling stupid knowing that he wouldn't answer you but he just nodded with his head without taking his eyes off the front-Oh really?…is…your mother?

He denied and you continued asking trying to guess who was home, feeling stupid and insistent.

-Well, your uncle? -You looked at him, sighing in relief when he nodded, looking at you with a touch of innocence that was difficult for you to believe after knowing that he had ended your boss's life - oh really? That's good…I'm alone you know, my mom moved to Austin a week ago and I told her I would go with her as soon as I finished my work.

Thomas looked at you stopping his pace, his gaze was the same as always but his eyebrows furrowed with some sadness making you also look at him without knowing what was happening.

-Something happens? I said something wrong? Thomas, sorry, I didn't want to…- your free hand barely moved on your chest, trying to make him understand that you were sorry from the bottom of your heart, but he barely grunted denied and leaving your hand, his finger carefully touched the center of your chest and then touched himself pointing at him - you?…I don't understand

He again pointed at you and then at him almost desperately as if he wanted to let you know what he wanted to say but his words did not come out and your little understanding of him was almost impossible.

-You…do you want…me?…Do you want me to stay…with you? - Thomas nodded, taking your hand again walking without waiting for you to take a step, making you stumble - but, I can't…

His hand gave a strong squeeze to yours making you moan a little in surprise, an action that made him feel something strange, that was also something new that he had heard from a girl,

-I really would like to stay but I have to go with my mother- your eyes kept looking at the road trying not to trip again but then you fixed them on him when you didn't hear any grunt from him, at this point you had already understood that this was his way of communicating.

But the road became even quieter, only your footsteps could be heard on the asphalt and from time to time a sigh came out of your mouth due to the suffocating heat you felt on your forehead.

It was a couple of meters ahead when again the sound of a car behind you made you turn your head, feeling relief but worried when you noticed the police car stopping in the middle of the road.

-Hands up son, stay away from that poor girl - Officer Hoyt pointed at Thomas, cutting the cartridge from his gun.

Thomas knew what that sound meant, he had heard it many times when he saw Charlie and Monty hunting, so with his hand he pushed you a little away from him worried that something bad could happen to you.

It was your time to run away, you could run and get away until you lost sight of them but something made you stay there, watching as the policeman pointed his gun at Thomas and honestly inside you just felt scared that something could happen to him.

-Sir, he didn't do anything wrong to me, we were just walking…- you looked at him trying to fix the situation, believing that that would be enough for him to leave.

-I saw what he did in the slaughterhouse sweetheart, you should not protect this damn animal- Hoyt looked at you for a second to return his attention to the big man in front of him. -You murdered a man ya’know, you will go to prison for what ya’did

You could feel your breathing really hard, nervous and afraid that a bullet could come out and hurt Thomas, after all yes, he murdered a man but he did it to defend himself after all the bad things that they had been done to him and in the same way , it was not such an exemplary man who died, so it had not been a great loss

-We have a problem, sheriff - your attention quickly focused on an elderly man who was holding a shotgun and shot without thinking killing the officer, again your hands covered your face while you screamed in fear.

-Calm down your little girlfriend, Thomas - the man laughed, approaching the body and a pair of hands held your shoulders delicately, making your hands lower in fear, looking at the giant in front of you.

-I want this to stop, I don't want to see any more people die - you looked at him crying with fear - I don't want to be next, I've only been good to you, please don't hurt me.

-No one will hurt you darling- the old man laughed as he placed the sheriff's hat over his cap - This is the girl who's been making you hard for months uh Tommy? She is very pretty, of course we won't do anything bad to her right?

The fear inside you grew more and more, this man was even more disgusting than your boss was and it seemed that like Thomas, he had the idea that from today you would be part of the family and you would stay with them forever

Thomas looked at the man next to him, giving him a growl and standing in front of you looking at him threateningly.

-What? you're in love? - his laugh was louder this time - okay, I won't say anything to your little doll, now come here and put the sheriff in the trunk before he stink.

Thomas took a couple of steps and effortlessly took the officer's lifeless body and placed it in the trunk without difficulty, all in front of your disbelieving eyes.

-Come on honey get in the car, we have to go home with mama after all she has to meet her new girl

--------------------------------------------------------

Thanks for reading

Part 2 here!

[itt0-main]

I read this fic so so sooooo long ago and of late I’ve been thinking about it for DAYSSSSS!!!!! When i tell you it was an absolute MISSSIIONNN to find it again oh my lord but i FOUNDDDD ITTTT!!!

[urprettylildoe]

𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊

...where you're a patient darling to your violent yandere!

        ♡

It had taken only one glance.

One glance at you for him to go absolutely feral — to drop you off at home with a clenched jaw and a rough, territorial kiss that scraped the skin of your cheek, him grumbling in your ear about how you shouldn't wait for him at dinner because he's going to be late.

And he kept his promise. At midnight, there was a sound of keys jingling at the front door. A weary sigh escaped your lips as the spoon dropped with a clink! on the table. Pushing your chair back, you adjusted the robe on your shoulders and headed for the hallway.

The pitch-black, familiar silhouette of your husband stood in the doorway. It was one of those nights. At first, his habits scared you. Now, they no longer do; it's practically become routine. You rubbed a fist against your drooping eyes, a yawn slipping past your mouth before you could stop it, "darling?"

No reponse. You tilted your head and approached. Blood dripped onto the floor like a faucet. Your feet stayed rooted in place knowing that the blood wasn't his — he wouldn't allow it to be. Yet the most concerning thing, but not surprising, was the tears sparkling in his wobbly eyes. He shrunk back under your gaze, sniffling as his red hands gripped the fabric of his wet shirt.

You sighed, outstretching your arms as you braced yourself for the long night and saying: "come here"

And that's how you ended up draped underneath him on the couch, his face resting in the grove of your neck as his tears dampened your skin and the blood staining the fabric of your robe.

Sobbing, he whimpered pathetically, "m'so sorry, baby" he clung tighter and hid his pathetic expression away — lips bitten red and eyes puffy. "didn't mean to hic! upset you, promise."

You should probably push him away like any other normal person would do in this situation. You should. But how could you, when he looked like a kicked puppy? Your heart practically swelled, refusing to listen to your screaming instincts.

Then, an attempt at retaining your morals you once prided yourself on: "darling, you can't just hurt anyone who looks at me. It's- it's just not right!"

His breath hitched, before his cries grew louder and louder, "but you don't understand! he was looking at you. What if he tries to take you away from me?" the paranoid thoughts swarming his head like bees could be heard from the way he anxiously pressed his hands against your sides, or the little kisses of salvation he littered against your skin. "I love you. I love you so much that it hurts me, that i can't take it if you left me."

"Shh, shh, didn't I tell you before that i'm never leaving you?" Your hands smushed and lifted his cheeks up to meet your gaze. "that i'm yours and yours only, hm?"

You were so soft that he felt like a small speck of dust in your presence, that he was biting the skin under his nails at the thought of anyone so much looking at you, images of bashing their head so very present and insistent before in his head.

"So you're not leaving me??" He whimpered, trying a weak smile and leaning into your hand.

Another sigh. You tried so, so hard to be mad at him, but you just can't. Not when he keeps on pulling you back in, not when he looked like this, not when you don't know what'd he do if you try to leave. "No, i'm not leaving you." A pause, one that made him falter. "But you promised me last time that you would stop doing this."

his pout deepened and leaned in closer to your jaw, opting to place gentle kisses in the spot that made you weak in knees. He cooed, "then I promise this time, that i won't do it again. Okay?" His big glassy eyes, shy but determined, stared into your soul.

You let your body sink back into the cushions, nodding as you closed your eyes and let him worship your body for the rest of the night for you to eventually, and inevitably, forgive him. But the both of you knew that he would break his promise again, and you would be waiting with open arms at the door.

And each and every time, you'd tell yourself that you'll finally break the cycle, but you'd never find the heart to.

"Okay"

[science-hoes]

Anyways

[rainedravens]

"holy shit they finally confessed, what comes next--"