#thtjb

ᴴᴼᵂ ᵂᴼᵁᴸᴰ ᵀᴴᴱᵞ ˢᴸᴱᴱᴾ?

𝐀/𝐧: 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞? 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐚 𝐭𝐫𝐲. 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐬!!

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 (𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝): there’s no warnings in this!

𝐉𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 🪨: jason sleeps how you would expect a prisoner too; stiff and shallow breathing. his sleeping was not light when y’all first started dating. but as the relationship grew he began to become a light sleeper; in fear of you getting hurt when he wouldn’t be able to help you.

The house that jack built

(NOT FINISHED! Still working on it but just seeing if anyone would want more.)

I just got bored so I decided to write a POV of Jack, A dark romance (Because he’s so hot in this movie but the characters ABSOLUTELY INSANE)

But i’m just a girl who’s in love with fictional unstable men so..Here’s what I got so far!

18+ MDNI

(and yes my character is OVER 18)

The lamb & the tiger

God created both the lamb and the tiger. The lamb represents innocence and the tiger represents savagery. Both parts and perfect and necessary..The tiger lives on blood and murder, kills the lamb and that is also the artist's nature.

I live for the build up. The wait. The thrill that comes from watching something before you take it.

She’s been part of my routine for days now, Closer than I’ve ever been. I know her schedule by heart. She wakes at five sharp, never late. Walks straight to the bathroom.

There’s a window beside her shower, Almost like it was made for me. It doesn’t just show her, but the world she’s built around herself.

On the counter, she leaves traces…objects that say more than words. A pink tube of lip gloss, the one she wears at work like a signature. Hair ties, always the same kind, used to pull her hair into those tight pigtails.

They’re small things. But they’re important. Rituals. Pieces of who she is.

And when the time is right, I’ll take all of it. Everything about her is placed just right. There’s a symmetry in the way she moves, the way she arranges her world. The same way a tiger plans every step.

I don’t usually grow attached to my victims.

But her eyes..those wide, glistening doe eyes hit something I didn’t plan for. They struck right through the center of me, softening the structure I built, blurring what was once clear.

In the beginning, my thoughts were clean, simple Where would I hide her body? Would I take a piece with me something small, something meaningful?

But now… now I find myself thinking of things I shouldn’t. Things that are pleasing.

And I hate that.

Because pleasure wasn’t part of the plan.

Lately, my mind drifts to softer things.

I imagine brushing her hair, slow and careful, like tending to silk. Dressing her in lace white, maybe, though pink feels more… fitting.

I wonder how her body would shape itself to my hand. How her curves would respond to the edge of my fingertip.

And when she cries..because they always do..I’d be there.

Not to stop it.

Just to wipe the tears from her cheeks with my thumb, like a gesture of care.

A moment of calm before the inevitable.

Sometimes, my thoughts drift further..into darker corners.

I wonder how she’d sound beneath me. What kind of breath would escape her lips when I pushed myself inside her not out of love, but something heavier.

I imagine my hand around her throat. Not to end her. Not yet.

Just to feel the resistance.

To see if I have the strength to stop myself before I crush the windpipe.

It’s not the act itself that tempts me.

It’s the line I draw..and how long I can resist crossing it.

(Lmk if you want me to post the rest of the story on here)

Behind the scenes photos from The House That Jack Built (2018)