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youraverageaemondsimp · 5 months

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Taste of depravity. // DARK!Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon (Cole)!Reader (Criston's daughter.)

MDNI, reader discretion is advised.

Summary: Aemond knows he shouldn't want you, especially after finding out you that were Criston's daughter, who was his father figure his entire life, yet he can't help himself but to crave the sweet taste of sinfulness.

A/N: y'all he's dark but not the usual dark, he's just psychotic(?) Idk. No noncon, but he's extremely obsessive towards her, and criston is stressed tf out. // divider credit: @cafekitsune

WARNINGS: dark!aemond, p in v sex, unprotected sex, biting, breeding kink, humiliation, dacryphilia, overstimulation, fingering, virginity loss, tiddy sucking, oral (f. receiving), face sitting, manhandling, profanity, reader is a bastard, aemond insults reader for being a bastard, he gets off of her suffering, he's insane, stressed dad criston, traumatic encounters by criston, dilemma, angst(?), fluff, reader is described to resemble criston so she has dark hair and eyes but no color is explicitly stated, + not proofread.

WC: 7k

Criston walked through the hallways of the red keep, armour clinking against each other as he walked towards a person's chamber who he swore to never involve himself with again.

Rhaenyra.

It wasn't the sudden love for her that made him do this, no, in fact he never even loved her, he had only realised after whatever happened on the ship with her.

It was guilt.

Guilt that he had stained his white cloak, guilt that he wasn't able to refuse, because the power imbalance between them was way too high, he couldn't risk it, burning all his efforts just because of refusing a princess.

He couldn't say no.

He was disgusted with himself afterwards.

He tried to pretend it was love to no avail, convincing himself that Rhaenyra didn't just use him for sexual pleasure, that he wasn't just an object or someone to discard, he believed that she loved him.

But none of that was true.

The events that followed along were obvious, she was married off to Laenor, and recently returned to the keep, pregnant with her fourth child.

It was only then Criston noticed the eldest child.

You.

He tried to think you were the same as Jacaerys and Lucerys, a rumoured bastard born to Ser Harwin Strong, Anyone can easily mistake you for his child itself, but not Criston.

The timing did not add up.

And neither did your features resemble Harwin Strong's.

Dark hair and dark eyes.

Features of him.

There was only one answer, and he wanted to be sure himself.

Which is what led him to visit Rhaenyra, something he would've never done in a thousand years to come.

He sighed heavily, knocking on the door, the guard allotted to her chamber looked at him suspiciously before announcing his presence, to say Rhaenyra was shocked is an understatement, she immediately opened the door, a hand resting on her stomach.

“Ser Criston.”

“Princess.” he greets her by bowing his head.

“Princess- I must speak with you, if you'll allow it.” his tone told her everything, and she looked around, before signalling Laenor, who was in the room, to take the boys to the training yard while she let him in.

He tried not to remember the last time, of what happened when he was with her.

“What is the issue?” she asks him, not wasting anymore time.

“Might I speak plainly, princess?” he asks, face stoic, he looks at him for a moment before nodding, and he takes a deep breath.

“Is she mine?”

Silence falls in between both of them, the way she clenches her jaw doesn't go unnoticed by him, and he clenches his teeth as he swallows thickly, bracing himself for the answer.

He already knew it.

He just needed confirmation.

“Yes.”

And that was enough to send all the waves crashing down on him, he stood there, breathing heavily, it felt as though there had been even more weight placed upon him, more than before.

He looks down, and bows.

“Thank you for your honesty, princess.” He says, “Ser Criston, please do not let this get out.” she pleads to him and he thinks for a moment. “Rest assured princess, I will not speak of this to anyone, for it will sully my reputation as it will do yours.” he says sternly and turns on his feet to leave.

His walk down to the training yard was swift, he was behind his allotted time to train the young princes due to this ordeal, yet he couldn't bring himself to care, all he could think about was you.

He stopped in his tracks down the stairs when he spotted you with your younger brothers, playing around with the wooden sword, they were clearly not training since he was their main instructor, just playing around.

He noticed how you smiled brightly, pretending to stab Jace and he fell, committing to his act of being stabbed by you, “Oh no more princess! I beg your mercy.” he played pretend, which made you giggle.

Then you heard a scoff.

You turned to see who it was, only to find your uncle, Aemond, looking at you with raised eyebrows as if he was judging you.

He was.

“Girls aren't allowed to train here.” he simply says, shifting his weight onto his right leg as he relaxes his grip on the sword before holding it placed down in front of him, leaning both his hands against it.

You furrow your brows, opening your mouth to speak up and reply to him but you are immediately cut off by Criston cole.

“Don't stand too upright my prince, you'll get knocked down.” he interferes with an advice for him, and you close your mouth before giving the wooden sword to Jacaerys.

“Ser Criston, May I stay and watch?” You ask him, eyes wide and pleading.

Normally he would refuse.

Normally.

But this situation was anything but normal.

“I already told you, girls are not allowed here–”

“Yes you may, princess.” He cuts Aemond off, and Aemond rolls his eyes while you smile widely at Criston, “But for your safety, please stand far away.” He tells you and you nod, immediately standing as far as possible.

Criston sighs before beginning the training for the boys.

It has almost become a routine for you, watching them train, Criston allowed you to stay and watch, much to everyone's surprise.

You had been hanging out with the boys, using the excuse of keeping a watch over your younger brothers as an excuse, Aemond did not like this however.

This obviously meant you were spending more time with Criston, it was fun being around him, when the boys would warm up for their training he would occasionally tell you about his achievements.

He has no idea why he's doing all of that, he could just ignore you, but he couldn't bring himself to.

It was a fine day, you were in the dragonpit with your brothers and uncles, Jace was learning new commands for his dragon, and you watched boredly, not understanding the obsession with dragons, you did not have one of your own, but you did not care.

Everything was going well, till you noticed Aemond, looking annoyed and wanting to be anywhere else but here, you obviously knew about his obsessions with wanting a dragon, it wasn't unknown.

The young prince's egg never hatched, leaving him without a dragon. You felt bad, knowing it must be tough to be the only one who has no dragon to ride, except you, but you had long given up the idea of wanting a dragon and accepted that you might not ever have one.

His public interest and the desire for always wanting a dragon so badly was what led to this moment, which altered him forever.

Aegon, Jace and Luke decided that it would be funny to mock him.

So they dressed up a pig and presented it to him, pretending it is a dragon while laughing loudly.

You did not find the situation funny at all, your brothers both laughed cruelly, along with Aegon who made the pig noises, you couldn't even bring yourself to let out an awkward chuckle, because you knew how this situation was incredibly mean.

Aemond obviously wasn't laughing, instead he stared at the pig before swallowing thickly, blinking rapidly, you remained silent, observing him. Prince Aegon left whilst mocking him, laughing along with your brothers and exiting the pit while you stayed back, and watched Aemond, who just seemed to be staring at the pig.

“Uncle? I-”

“Don't.” He cuts you off, his voice trembling, as if he was moments away from crying.

He was.

“Aemond.” You stand next to him, you watch as he shoots a glare at you, gritting his teeth.

“Are you here to rub salt on the wound?” His voice was laced with venom and hatred even though it was trembling.

“Why are you always speaking to me like that? I've never been anything but nice to you. Let me guess, you are going to assume that it was I who planned this as well?” You snap, words spilling out of your mouth before you could stop them, his eyes widened.

“I wouldn't be surprised if it was you, after all, it would be your way of getting back at me.” He shakes his head.

“I would never do that to you.” you mumble, which causes his eyebrows to raise slightly in surprise, “I know- well at least I think I do know- what it feels like to not have a dragon, mine didn't hatch either, Aemond.” you try to comfort him.

“It is just that, I simply do not care, I've accepted it.” You shrug, and he scoffs, “A true Targaryen is to have a dragon, I can understand why it wouldn't hatch for you- cause you're... plain.” He stops himself mid sentence, clearing his throat. You look down, fidgeting with your fingers as the air turns awkward, you expected Aemond to leave but he instead stays.

“I- I did not mean it that way, I simply meant that we are both different individuals, not having a dragon might not bother you, but it bothers me, it is a big deal for me, especially if even someone who is a wastrel like my brother has one.” He speaks up and you look at him, maintaining eye contact with him.

You don't know what came over you, but you suddenly grab his hands and hold them tight, “You will have a dragon one day.” you reassure him and he looks down, “You think so?” He asks and you nod, “I'm sure of it.” You smile but he doesn't return that smile.

He simply grabs your hand before turning around and leaving the dragonpit.

To say things changed between you and Aemond since that day would be an overstatement, his behaviour towards you remained the same, except this time it feels as though he is purposefully saying hurtful things, to get a reaction from you.

Is this what you get for being kind?

Yes.

But something did slightly change.

It was the way Aemond looked at you.

He might be mean, but he immediately comes to your defence when it is not him who is doing the mockery.

You learnt it when Aegon was mocking you and Aemond stepped in, defending you, same with your brothers, who would sometimes crack jokes that would be way too over the line, only to have Aemond shut them down.

You had mixed feelings about this.

It was a normal training day, you watched as Criston trained the boys, deciding to focus more on Aegon and Aemond instead of Jace and Luke, but it didn't matter since they were also learning along.

Until a certain presence had come in.

Harwin Strong.

You watched the interaction happen, the air became intense as Criston felt insulted, not wishing to take any criticism from someone from city watch.

Then they fought, Harwin threw punches at Cristons face until he was stopped by the guards, “You act as if you're any better, your attention towards the princess is also quite the unique thing.” Is what Harwin slowly said on top of him, but everyone was too scared and focused on the fight to stop to even care.

Things started to go downhill from then onwards.

Aemond and you have gotten slightly closer and things seemed to be less intense between you both, that was until your mother whisked you and your siblings away to dragonstone.

Criston was devastated, angry but he couldn't do anything about it, nor stop it.

Until driftmark.

He got to see you again, you stood there beside rhaenyra and your siblings watching as the funeral progressed, and clearly understanding the venomous words Vaemond aimed at your family.

Criston fought the urge to leave Alicents side and instead spend it with you, he wants to be closer to you, he wants you to remember him, maybe one day you'll even find out that he is your father, and when you do, he doesn't want you to be disappointed in him.

He made many plans, that if everything went well then your family would visit the keep often.

Of course until Lucerys took Aemond's eye.

He knew the drift between both sides of the family was clearer than ever, especially after Alicent lunged at Rhaenyra in anger with a knife.

Aemond did his best to interfere.

To everyone's surprise, when you came to realise what happened, you immediately sped to Aemond's side, and looked at his face before wincing at the raw sight, he was holding his mother before he turned and his gaze fell upon you.

Your lips trembled slightly as you looked at him softly and with pity, but he didn't return anything back, not even a scowl.

And that would be your last interaction with Aemond, or anyone on that side of that family at all.

Up until years later.

Many years have passed, and Criston tried to forget about everything, but he couldn't. Instead, as the years went by, he grew more worried but curious, he wondered if you'd grown into a woman, he wondered if you look even more like him now.

Luckily all his questions would be answered when he found out that your family would be returning to the keep, as Vaemond had made a petition against Lucerys.

Aemond was far too excited to see you too again, he remembers taking nothing but pleasure in the expressions you'd make when he'd be mean to you, they were forever etched into his memory.

Since the incident from the driftmark, Aemond grew into a much more calculated yet even more mean of a person, his words would be laced towards venom against the ones he despised, dripping ever so sweetly from his tongue.

Your arrival was anticipated by both the men patiently.

And day had arrived just like they hoped, you stepped into the walls of the red keep once again, yet everything seemed to lose its familiarity with the family sigils being replaced to that of the seven.

You did not come across both of them till the next day, until you went into the training yard with your brothers, you watched as they reminisced and smiled, you looked over the spot you always stood whenever you would watch them train, the spot looking smaller since you've grown in height.

However you felt the stares of the people prod at your back and you looked at them to see all of them whispering about your and your siblings obviously non valyrian features.

You try not to let it get to you, and distract Luke from the judgemental gazes, considering how he's already been feeling insecure due to the petition.

That was until you heard a noise in the background, and watched as the people gathered in a shape resembling a circle, you quickly patted Jace and Luke and gestured to them to come with you to watch what was going on.

You immediately spotted the familiar face of Ser Criston Cole, making a wide smile appear on your face as you watched him sway his weapon against who you weren't sure was Aegon or Aemond as the back was turned.

Ser Criston hasn't changed since the last time you saw him, you watch as he swung his weapon towards the Prince, and he countered that attack and blocked it with his sword, causing Criston to withdraw his weapon and take the Prince's previous spot, which lead to the Prince now facing you.

You immediately recognized him the moment you spotted that eyepatch, sitting snugly over his left eye.

Aemond.

Something about seeing him like that made heat travel down your body, is this what they call desire? You swallow thickly. He has indeed grown into a very handsome man, the loss of his did nothing but elevate his looks even further.

The trial match soon came to an end, with Aemond's blade pointing towards Criston's collarbones.

“Well done my Prince, you'll be winning tourneys in no time.” Criston praises, “I don't give a shit about tourneys.” Aemond answers while regulating his breathing, his grip loosens on the sword as his eye lands on you and your siblings, “Nephews,” the sword in his hand is spun slightly as he lowers it, “'Have you come to train?” he asks and that's when Criston's attention turns towards you and his eyes widens.

Jace's throat tightens as he tries to form a reply, not expecting Aemond to be this well trained over the years.

“Niece.” Aemond addresses you next and you look at him, “It has been a while.” He comments, his eye scanning your figure from toe to head, before his lips twitch, forming into a smirk.

“It has, Aem— Uncle.” you reply, cutting yourself off before you spoke his name.

“Princess.” Criston greets you and you smile, “Ser Criston, It is a pleasure to see you again.” you tell him and he nods, giving you a tight lipped smile. He's noticed how you resemble him even more now, which makes him happy but also fear.

“OPEN THE GATES!” you hear a distant voice yell and watch as the gates open.

Vaemond Velaryon enters the premises with guards around him, the chatter and everything falls to silence as the only noise now that can be heard are the footsteps of the guards as they accompany him.

The way he looks at Luke doesn't go unnoticed, causing already shaken up Luke to shiver further in fear, but you hold his hand, reassuring him.

You travel to your chambers patiently and prepare yourselves for the court hearing that would likely be held in a few hours, you sit down and pace around the chambers that were given to you when you had arrived here.

You hear the sound of a stone sliding in your chambers and you turn around to see none other than your uncle aemond emerging from behind a tapestry in the chamber.

“Aemond? What are you doing here? You shouldn't enter a lady's room like that.” You question him, calling him by his name instead of uncle like you did earlier.

He makes his way over to you, his presence was intimidating as he looked over to you. “Pardon my rudeness but how can I contain myself when my niece, who I haven't seen for the past few years appears in front of me?” He quirks up an eyebrow, his eye scans your figure once again, but this time, his gaze lingering more on your breasts before he meets your eyes once again.

“Especially when she's all grown?”

“When the object of both my desire and ire is right in front of me, how can I not?” His hands rest on your hips, and your mouth falls open.

“You are being inappropriate-” You protest.

“Look me in the eye and tell me you did not feel something when you first saw me.”

Fuck.

You thought you covered it well.

“What? Did I catch the cat in the act?” He mocks you and you glare at him, one of his hands travels to your cheek, tilting your head upwards before he descends his lips on your own.

You're shocked at what he's doing, but you don't protest, your mind becomes hazy as he continues kissing you, lips moving against yours in a rhythm, he swipes his tongue against your bottom lip, asking for entrance and to your own surprise, you allow him to by slightly parting your lips open.

The kiss elevates further from there, his tongue fighting against yours as you kiss him back, your hands grip his shoulders as leverage while his own grab your waist pulling you close, it gets rougher, hungrier but more passionate.

He pulls away for air looking at you while breathing heavily, you hold him by the face and pull him into a kiss again and he returns it immediately.

Your head spins as Aemond walks you backward until your back comes in contact with a wall, his grip tightens on you further, he pins your hands above your head as pulls away, and you look at him with pleading eyes, your lips swollen from the kiss.

“Fuck, you're so fucking beautiful for a bastard.” He comments and you frown, “Everyone knows, they just don't say it in front of you.” He says meanly, “I could have your tongue for that.” You threaten him but he smirks, “Hmm? Really?” He mockingly questions and you try to glare at him, but it doesn't seem much threatening.

His free hand hikes your skirts up, and travels upwards to your cunt, you gasp when you feel his cool fingers press up against your clit, then travel slightly downwards where your wetness was beginning to leak from.

“Don't fucking tell me you're getting wet all because I called you a bastard?” He questions, and you try to deny it but your body betrays you by making you clench your thighs together in arousal, he chuckles meanly and you bite your lip to try and fight the humiliation you are feeling.

“You seem to like it when I'm fucking mean to you, don't you? Seriously, you're getting wet from this.” You heave when you feel him pinch your clit, pulling on it meanly, causing you to squirm.

“Yes, yes you fucking do.” He growls.

“Aemond-” You choke out his name and he replies with a hum, “Hm?” He peppers kisses against your neck as you try to form sentences but you cannot seem to do so because of the way his fingers are rubbing small circles onto your clitoris.

“We s-shouldn't— it's unseemly of us oh–? ahh—! fuck.” You throw your head back against the wall when you feel him insert a finger into your awaiting entrance, He slowly moves it in and out, he lets go of your hands which were pinned to the wall, causing them to immediately fall on his shoulders in an attempt to balance yourself.

His free hand trails down to your bodice, he pulls the material down, freeing your breasts, he mutters a curse before peppering kisses to the flesh, and biting harshly which chokes out a whine from your throat. He pulls away and watches as the shape of his teeth get imprinted into the flesh of your breast, marking you.

His mouth then descends onto your nipple, you let out a loud and a lewd moan when you feel his finger curl up and hit the sweet spot inside of you while simultaneously his tongue flicks and plays with your bud.

He inserts another finger inside slowly, stretching you on them and your grip on his shoulder tightens, nails digging into the material of his clothes.

“Are you a maiden?” He asks you suddenly, pulling away from your nipple and you look at him for a second, processing what he said before nodding shyly, which causes him to smirk. “No wonder why you are clenching around my fingers so tightly, Relax.”

He speeds up his pace, hitting the sweet spot over and over again, you clench your eyes shut when you feel a type of tightening begin to form into your lower abdomen.

“Open your eyes.” He commands, you obey and look him directly in the eye, “Good, I want you to look at me when you peak.” He kisses your cheek, and as if right on cue, your orgasm hits you like a sudden storm.

Everything around you feels hot as the pleasure ripples through your entire being, making you moan his name out loud.

He slowly pumps his fingers in and out, letting you ride your orgasm out before placing a kiss to your lips and pulling his fingers out, letting your skirts fall back to place again, and puts the same fingers in his mouth, licking up the evidence of your essence, a satisfactory hum leaves his mouth.

Before he could advance any further, there is a knock on your chamber door, before he watches it slightly open, quick on his feet, he swiftly leaves your chambers through the secret passageway, and you try to fix your clothing, pulling up the material back up to your breasts and patting down your hair.

You watch as the knight enters your chamber and bows to you, “Princess, the court session is about to take place, your presence has been requested.” he tells you and nods, clearing your throat, “I shall be there.” He bows his head before leaving the room and you quickly fix up your appearances before leaving your chambers.

Heart racing at the thought that you both would've been caught if you hadn't reacted quickly.

Aemond, in an attempt to move to his chambers quickly, accidentally took the wrong route and ended up on the path to the small council room, which he figured out when he heard the voices of his mother and Ser criston.

“What do you mean by this criston?” He was about to turn back but halts when he hears his mother talk. “I have noticed your attention on the eldest daughter of rhaenyra, are you infatuated with her?” Alicent asks plainly, voice laced with concern. “No- my queen, she-” Aemond hears Criston sigh, “I suppose I cannot hide it any longer.” This makes Aemond grit his teeth, did Criston actually like you? He couldn't let Criston have you.

“She is my daughter.”

“What?”

What?

Aemond's eye widens as he hears those words leave his mouth, and Alicent is shocked as well. “How long have you known this for?” Alicent questions, “For many years, few months before driftmark.” He tells her, “I apologise my queen, I should've told you it immediately but- I was concerned for her safety.” He confesses and bows his head in shame.

“All is forgiven Ser Criston, Was this from the time you had laid with rhaenyra?” She continues to ask and he nods, “I am glad it is just that, because I plan to betroth Aemond to her, and with what you've just revealed to me, I think I can confidently go through with this.” She tells Criston of her plans, and this satisfies Aemond very much, but there is the fact that he cannot look at you the same anymore, for you were the daughter of someone who was his father figure his entire life.

Besides, he wondered what would Cristons reaction be if he found out what Aemond actually did to you mere moments ago.

“Prince Aemond? Your grace, I do not question your decision, but they don't seem very close, from what I remember, he had always seemed quite rude towards her.” Criston speaks up, he tries not to show the distaste for the choice as he has no say in this, because he cannot rightfully claim you as his daughter. “They will make up eventually, they're both grown ups now, I'm sure they'd put their childish quarrels aside.” Alicent answers him, Criston bites his lip, preventing himself from saying anything. “Besides, she is next in line to the throne, I know there will be complications if we crowned aegon, so we'll retreat and let Rhaenyra rule, after that, Y/N will ascend, at first I was reluctant to have a bastard on the throne, but I changed my mind after your confession.” Alicent reveals her true motives to him which makes Criston internally punch himself for revealing that, he still thinks Aemond isn't the right man for you.

“It is not uncommon knowing that after their marriage- she will eventually give birth to Aemond's children, his heirs, our blood, and they will definitely inherit the throne right after her, putting our blood on the throne.” Criston nods as he listens to Alicent speak.

They fall silent for a bit thinking through it.

“My Queen, the court session is starting.” A guard comes inside the council to inform her, Aemond immediately goes back to his room before cleaning and composing himself and then making his way to the throne room.

The court session was progressing, with Vaemond backing up his reasons to sign a petition against Lucerys, and everyone in court listened intently.

But Aemond's attention is somewhere else, on you, who is currently squirming under his gaze, trying to avoid it, this makes Aemond smirk a little, with all he had overheard from his mother, he could only think of one thing.

You bearing his heirs.

How amazing you'd look with your stomach swollen, carrying his seed deep inside you, this thought alone makes his cock ache.

It was one boring session, until Viserys arrived, and knowing Vaemond had nothing to lose anymore, considering he already lost, he chose to direct vile insults towards you, your brothers and your mother, which led to Vaemond's head partially being cut off by Daemon.

This shocked everyone and Viserys fell weakly onto the chair.

“And one more final— hh. thing.” He wheezes out, “The queen- has proposed a. be- be-brothal between Aemond and Y/N, w-w-which. i. hh accept, it is a perfect way to reunite our drifted houses.” He manages to get the words out. Your gaze turns towards Aemond whose smile just got bigger and you look away immediately blush creeping up your cheeks, frankly, all you could think about was his fingers inside you.

Viserys ends up having a coughing fit, which causes Alicent to panic and scream for the maesters.

Viserys doesn't seem to have left more than a few moons to survive, so they plan a wedding in one moons time, to have the king witness it before he dies, and also so that Rhaenyra can't go back and change her decision.

Dinner that night went peacefully, with Aemond right beside you, Aemond was too focused on you to the point he didn't notice how Lucerys chuckled when the pig had come in, you did, so you shot him a stern but warning gaze, which made him shut up.

You were back in your chambers again, the maids undid your hair, letting it fall freely and got you ready into your bed clothes, you decided to sit by the fire and read a book when you heard the familiar sound of a stone sliding again.

You lifted your head and found Aemond, also in his bed clothes who was coming towards where you sat, “What are you reading?” He asks and before you can close the book, he snatches it from you and views it.

“A caution for young girls?” The name alone is enough to make blush creep up your cheeks, “If I remember correctly, isn't this book forbidden?” He teases and you get up from your seat and grab the book from his hand, turning away from him before placing it on the table.

“What do you want?” You ask, not bothering to turn back.

His arms snake around your waist and wrapping them around it, he nuzzles his nose into the back of your neck and places kisses on it, “I think you know what I want very well.” He mutters, still kissing your neck.

“I'm afraid I don't.” You try to play clueless, not wanting to react to what he's saying but all of that comes crumbling down when he gropes your breast before squeezing it tightly. “Don't you?” He questions and turns you to make you face him.

His hand moves to your cheek, “You want me to remind you? Where we left off?” He asks and you stare into his eye, not speaking anything, trying to deny him. That doesn't last long when he presses his lips against yours, and once again you're kissing him back, he is just so addictive.

He suddenly pulls away, and throws you over his shoulder, catching you off guard and makes his way towards your bed before throwing you on it, causing you to bounce slightly.

“I cannot hold back anymore.” He hovers over your form, trying to contain himself, “Don't.” that one singular word leaving his mouth was enough to break his restraint, and before you know it, he's on top of you kissing your face, neck, breasts as he paws at your nightgown, trying to remove it off you.

Frustrated, he tears it off your body, ripping it into shreds before throwing the fallen pieces away.

Your body is in full view to him now, you feel so vulnerable yet aroused, you rub your thighs together to soothe the ache forming in between them. “Spread them.” He speaks and you're confused until you realise he means your legs, you feel ashamed to do so. “Did you not hear me? Spread those fucking legs.” His voice becomes impatient now, causing you to spread your legs.

You lay there, humiliation poking every inch of your body as he remains silent, staring at your cunt, you shiver when you feel the cold breeze hit your core, and then suddenly Aemond moves swiftly, giving you not enough time to realise what he was doing.

“Wha—” your question is cut off short when you feel his warm mouth on your sex, making you shriek in surprise when his tongue laps at your clit, flicking the bundle of nerves up and down, “Seven fucking hells, you taste divine.” he mutters against your cunt before devouring it once more, his tongue prods at your entrance, before entering inside you, whenever he moved, his nose would bump against your clit causing stimulation.

He suddenly pulls away and lays down next to you before pulling you on top of him, you end up straddling his waist and lay your arms on his chest as support. “Sit on my face.” He demands, “But-”

“Did I fucking stutter? Sit. On. My. Face.” He growls and cuts you off, making you shiver and you obey him changing positions to where your cunt is hovering right above his mouth, his warm breath hitting it.

He grabs your thighs harshly, annoyed at your reluctance and pushes your cunt into his mouth before lapping at it like a man starved, you throw your head back at the pleasure.

You move your hips unknowingly to aid your building pleasure, and it is when he nips at your clit that you feel your peak coursing through your lower body, you choke out a moan of his name.

He once again changes position by laying you on your back and moving up a little, his lips meet yours again, and you wince at the tangy taste of your own juices.

Aemond pulls away, “Gosh, I can't believe a bastard like you has me fucking cunt struck.” He whispers in your ear, “D-don't call me that.” you tell him, “But you seemed to to fucking like it earlier.” You stay quiet to that, not wanting to admit it.

“I know of your tastes my lovely niece, do you even know who your father is?” He asks and you shake your head no, “It's Ser Criston Cole.” He tells you and you look at him shocked, “I overheard him talking to my mother earlier, how does it feel? Lady Cole?” and you remain quiet.

Ser Criston Cole was your father?

It all made sense now.

“But enough of that, your attention should be on me.” He grabs you by your cheeks, squeezing them, “My dirty little whore of a bastard, with a cunt so divine that it puts gods to shame.”

“You should be ashamed of yourself, letting me do all of this to you, do you have no dignity? you're crumbling the moment I try to do something.” He says meanly and tears prick at the corner of your eyes, it wasn't anything new, he had always been this way, ever since he was young, you knew this was humiliating, you knew this was insulting, seven hells, you're even almost crying at his words, yet you can't help but get wet at everything he's saying.

“You're mine, you have always been mine, got it? mine to mock, push you around, fuck, breed and do whatever as I please.” He growls, you lay there and nod, “Gods, it feels so good to be so mean to you, I hate to admit it, but I love seeing you cry.” He wipes the tear that has escaped your eye with his thumb before putting the very same thumb into his mouth and tasting it.

He pushes you further up the bed, before he sits back, he undoes his breeches, and pulls it off along with his tunic, leaving him bare just like you, and you swore that the gods favoured him much more than others, his body seemed as if it was sculpted and moulded personally by the smith himself.

He spreads your legs wide before placing himself between them, his cock rubbing against your folds, “Do you want my cock so bad? Your cunt is fucking weeping for it.” He questions and you nod, “Use your words.” He orders you, and you swallow, “I want your cock.” You speak slowly.

“Beg for it.” He smirks when he sees your eyes widen, and you take a deep breath, trying to form words, he taps your clit with his cock causing you to squirm, “Please-” You managed to choke out. “Please what?”

“Please—! Please I want your cock inside me so fucking badly.” You say, and that is enough for Aemond before he positions his tip at your entrance. “This is going to hurt okay?” He tells you, and you nod.

And gods did it hurt.

His cock was too big, the stretch was unbearably painful, yet Aemond was patient, pushing in slowly and slowly until he was fully sheathed, it took him every grain of control to not start ramming into you like a wild beast, especially the way your cunt was clenching around him, he breathed heavily, letting you relax and adjust to him.

“I'm going to move, stop me if it's too painful.” He tells you and you stare at him, “I thought you found joy in my pain.” you mutter which makes him chuckle, “I do, but even i have my limits, and this is where I draw the line.” He tells you, which makes you smile, “You can move now, Uncle.” you tease and he grits his teeth before drawing his hips back and thrusting into you harshly, you wince as the first few thrusts cause you slight pain, until you relax and eventually get used to it, and slowly get pleasure from it.

But this pace wasn't enough.

“Faster- Aemond–” You heave out as your body jerks up and down beneath, and just like you pleaded, he swiftly increases the speed. “You're a filthy fucking bastard, you know that?” Aemond sneers at you, grabbing you by the cheeks as he brutally thrusts into you. “Answer me.” he groans into your ear and you nod, earning a light slap from him on your cheeks, “With words.” he growls.

“Yes, I- know!” you moan when you feel the tip of his cock hit the sweet spot, hands gripping the linen sheets tightly as he bullies your hole. “And who does this filthy bastard belong to?” He asks, sickeningly sweet, hands leaving your cheek to grip at your breast, twirling your nipple in between his thumb and index finger.

“Y-You.” You gasp when you feel his hand trail down to your cunt and press up against your bundle of nerves before rubbing small and gentle circles on it, elevating your pleasure. “Good girl, you're so good for me, aren't you? Good for your uncle, you'll let me breed you right?”

“Hmm–! Yes! I'll let you breed me– oh fuck right there– yes–” You throw your head back against the bed as you feel him hitting and ramming into your sweet spot again and again and before you know it, your peak is ripped through you brutally, causing you to clench around his cock, making him moan loudly.

“Fuck-” and with a gasp, Aemond finishes inside you, his hot spend coating your inner walls, creating a warm feeling, he slowly rides his orgasm out, staying in until his cock begins to soften.

“You'll look so beautiful with my children, your breasts will swell with milk, and I'll indulge myself in them, because you're mine, you belong to me and I shall do as I please with you, and you'll let me right?” He asks and you nod, “Such a fucking pretty bastard, and my soon to be wife.” He presses a kiss to your forehead.

He pulls you into his arms and you both fall asleep, too tired to even clean up because of the eventful day.

A month later.

To say Criston was disappointed would be an understatement, he didn't hate Aemond, but he didn't like him to the point where he would watch his only child, that too who he cannot claim openly, be wedded off to him.

But at least you look happy and content with him.

After the vows were said and you were officially declared as Aemond's wife, Criston left the scene not being able to control his emotions, he stood at the very same place where he almost took his life, gazing up into the sky, “Ser Criston?” He heard your voice and immediately turned to you, “Princess.” He bows, “You can drop the formalities.” You tell him with a smile and he looks at you questioningly, “Fathers shouldn't be formal with their daughters after all.” You explain and his eye widens before he looks around to see if anyone heard that.

“You- know it?” He chokes, not being able to hold back his tears anymore. You nod “Aemond told me.” You tell him, and he immediately hugs you and you return the hug, “I am sorry, I failed you, but I had my own reasons, even then, I still apologise, I wish I had been there for you more.” He cries and you pull away from the hug, “It is fine, I can understand.” you reassure him and he smiles at you.

Everything seemed to have ended happily.

Though there was that one thought which Criston had that was immediately forgotten when you pulled him back to the wedding.

How did Aemond even come to know of it?

— ! ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡

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faesdreaming · 7 months

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Yandere Deity - Altar

tw: yandere behaviour, possessive/obsessive behaviour, kidnapping, diety uses he/him pronouns, gaslighting, yandere using his abilities to mess with reader’s perception of reality

“Haven’t you come to worship at my altar?”

•A lone Deity part of a forgotten pantheon, lost to the sands of time. What once was a bountiful temple; filled with offerings and gifts of fruits, meats, candles, with sounds of prayers and hymns of worship ringing through the halls, people streaming in to sing his praise, is now nothing but an empty ruin.

•He’s so very lonely. Nary a person has come to visit him in centuries. Years pass by and he has nothing, no one. Until you. A fateful eve when you happen upon the temple. Hidden away in the heart of a lush jungle, you, an archaeologist, find your El Dorado, your city of gold. You’d long since heard tales of a lost civilization, an Atlantis on land. Yet, here the remnants lay in front of your eyes.

•At the heart of the ruins lays a temple, grand and golden. Although time has chipped away at its’ grandeur, it’s still glorious, in your opinion. It’s a testament to humanity’s evolution. You don’t notice him though, no one does. But he’s noticed you. Nosy little thing, aren’t you? Impudent, little mortal wretch. He ought to kill you for your audacity. Daring to defile his sacred temple, you deserve nothing but the most painful end,

•But, you’re not actually defiling it, are you? You’re so respectful, treating every artifact as though it were the Holy Grail. You revere his temple, it’s a wonder, a marvel to you. It, you treatment, you reverence— you make him feel something new, something foreign. The attention you give him is intoxicating. He’s been forgotten, left behind. Yet, you’re here now. And he isn’t going to let you go.

•So, when a series of natural disasters occurs and suddenly your team is halved, some leaving after the first incident, others meeting fates you don’t want to recall. The others are slowly losing hope, they’ve lost friends, money, time to your passion project. This is your life’s work, you can’t just give up, can you? You don’t want to. You really don’t. But you’re smart enough to know when to cut your losses.

•Then, another freak accident hits. This time is more devastating. Nobody escaped unscathed, nobody escapes at all. Nobody is except for you. You slip in and out of consciousness. One moment, you’re in the rubble amongst your dead coworkers and friends, and suddenly you’re in a bed, soft and warm. You’re delirious, unable to actually make out anything. But you’re certain there’s someone taking care of you. A man. A beautiful man, something, someone, divine. His touch is soft and gentle. Caring even. He placates you with sweet platitudes you can’t quite comprehend in this state, but the smooth baritone of his voice makes your heart soar.

•When you fully regain consciousness, you’re able to see your surroundings. You’re in a room filled with luxury. Ornate decor, golden furniture, the whole nine yards. It’s impressive, if not a little, a lot, off-putting. How did you get here? Who was the man taking care of you? Thousands of questions and thoughts flood your mind. It’s interrupted by him, the man.

“You’re finally awake. How are you feeling?”

•You blink in confusion. It’s—he’s— everything is too much. Too overwhelming. He chuckles, it’s a rich sound that sends shivers down your spine. He reassures you, slowly and gently placing a strong hand of on your shoulder. There’s something commanding in his soft tone, something compelling you to swallow the lump in your throat and obey. He laughs again and you blush.

•He introduces himself as the one who’s been taking care of you. Doesn’t offer you any explanation as to why, but you ought to be grateful. After all, you could have been left out to die. He offers you food and water. You eat like a man starved and drink the water as though it were the sweetest ambrosia. He offers to let you stay here— where is here?— with him.

“You may leave whenever you decide to leave.”

•He promises, even escorts you out of the room, down halls that moves and shift, and spin around. You’re dizzy, delirious, unable to care for yourself. He carries you back to the room. How embarrassing. Your apologies when you regain your composure are shrugged off. It’s fine, he insists. You’re sick, vulnerable. He reiterates his offer, stay until you get better— you could’ve sworn he said stay forever— and are able to fend for yourself. You nod your head in agreement. It’s the logical choice, really. You’d probably die on your own.

•He smiles a brilliant smile at you, swears he’ll care for you diligently. And he has been, hasn’t he? You’re beginning to trust him, have faith— why?— in him. He stays true to his word. Working tirelessly to care for not only your body but your mind as well. Sleepless nights are spent with him by your side, telling you folktales and myths, singing soft lullabies to lull you to sleep, or even merely conversing with you. Days are spent improving your health. He feeds you by hand sometimes when you are too weak to do it yourself. When your health shows signs of improvement, you both go on walks, exploring the extensive gardens and many palace— temple, building, you’re not sure where you are— halls.

•He gifts you with many things too. Soft silk robes, shining jewels, ancient tomes and books, everything you desire you’re given. It’s not your fault, really, that you start to love him— do you?— especially not when’s he’s so kind. So handsome, beautiful really. He looks inhuman, like something divine. He’s attentive and nurturing. Your own prince charming. Your feelings grow as time progresses— how long has it been, you need to leave— until you can’t contain it.

•One day, as he presses a warm cloth to your forehead, you notice just how close he is. How he’s just out of touch. You greedily drink it in, unconsciously inching closer until your lips are pressed against his. The kiss is soft, chaste and you immediately pull away. Your stammering and feeble apologies are interrupted by his hand cupping your cheek. He leans in, your heart thumping in your chest, and kisses you again. This time, you don’t pull away.

•He, your lover, your heart loves you too. It’s surreal— too surreal— and your days spent together become all the more special. You’re utterly content with him, he’s become the air you breathe, the light of your life, you’re everything. It’s only natural for you to become consumed by him. By your life with your beloved— to forget you ever had a life before— spending eternity forever in his arms.

“We only have until forever, love.”

#yandere romance #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere drabble #yandere oneshot #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #tw yandere #yandere oneshots #yandere x you #reader x yandere #you x yandere #yandere diety #yandere god #yandere x darling

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softlyspector · 8 months

Text

Moss & Mushrooms

Written for Haunted Hoedown !

Prompt(s): animal shapeshifter au + "he's a monster" + "he's perfect". With the additional prompts of "I accidentally called you into this world" + gothic au

Summary: You are alone, always. Then, one day, a beast emerges from the forest you've never dared to go into.

Pairing: shapeshifter!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: ~4.2k

Warnings: toxically co-dependent, unhealthy, literal nightmare relationship, body horror (also shapeshifter transformation type of things), graphic descriptions of violence, lots of blood, smut, marking, pain kink, light choking, intense biting, possessiveness, devotion and loyalty that threaten to go too far, mentions of death, suicidal ideation, intense loneliness, the reader wears a dress, the reader is described with having scars, bruises, only very lightly edited

A/N: I wanna say thank you to @psychedelic-ink and @inklore for hosting the Haunted Hoedown writing challenge because this really got the creative juices flowing and it was also just a lot of fun to write. Anyway! I'm throwing this into the void and running away. Thanks for reading!

Something monstrous looms.

It has claws and teeth, bristling fur.

It emerges from the shadows with a growl, from the depths of the ever whispering forest, the ever murmuring leaves.

Wind whips the trees back as darkness encroaches on the garden. You stand on the edge of the balcony, the widow’s walk, and watch it emerge from the forest, the writhing mass of dark trees, battered by the brewing storm, the thorny, irritated air.

The wind sears your skin, so cold it burns, so violent it tears.

The sky churns violet, navy, midnight. White moonlight cuts through the clouds, fingers of forked lightning spear through the roiling mass.

The creature writhes.

A wolf the size of a moose, you realize. Larger than any beast should be.

It’s nails dig into the earth, a howl like a thousand years of pain wrapped in velvet echo across the yard, across the churning ocean that crashes against the seawall on the other side of the house.

Your belly knots up, a thrill tingles at the base of your spine. You are alone on the coast. Your nearest neighbor is miles away. At least, they used to be, anyway.

A storm is rolling in, the power flickering already in the ruinous house you call home, gothic and stately and in utter disrepair.

It’s falling apart. Any moment it may fall to the ground, it may sink into the sea.

The wolf’s howl breaks off, cracks, snaps.

What if it prowled closer to the house? What if it came onto the porch below? What if it threw itself against the door, shattered its way inside? What if it attacked you? Consumed you?

All the blood in your face rushes down, gathers hotly in your chest. It thrills you, the thought of being trapped by the beast, the thing crawling closer to the house, lithe body sleek in the moonlight, in the gathering storm. It thrills you to think of it snapping you open, prying you apart, ending your misery.

You have the urge to go downstairs, open the door and invite it in. It could carve your heart out with its teeth, you could eat it together. Blood dripping from your chin, it’s maw.

You would no longer be alone on this stretch of coast beneath you, threatening to consume you and leave your bones behind, like all the others that had come before you. You could live inside the wolf.

The cracking, snapping continues. A howl begins again, then chokes off. The smooth coat of fur jostles. The creature stumbles, falls halfway across the garden. The noise continues, like twigs snapped and rocks thrown.

You watch the grotesque movement, fascinated, blood pumping, heart racing. The howl transforms into a moan, and then, the cracking, writhing stops. Your eyes are wide open but in the space of a blink the monster is replaced with a man.

Before you can really consider what you’re doing, you fetch up the lantern by your elbow and fly back through the double doors to the staircase that winds down through the many floors of the ancient house.

Something laughs, but you don’t pause to find out what. The fluttering wings of cobwebs and dust chase you down, down, down. Moss and mushrooms sprout from the damp of the walls, watching with hungry eyes.

You know as your bare feet hit the main floor and the white of your dress swirls around your ankles, that even if you had paused to think it over, you’d still be here, pulling open the back door as the electricity flickers out and the rain finally comes crashing down from the sky.

The lantern falls from your hand and you bolt out into the rain.

The beast, the man, is beautiful.

You can tell even through the sleeting, hammering rain blurring your vision.

The whole world is dark and wet. The whole of the earth is soaked in chilled blood. And you and the creature are the last of the warm bodies to stand atop it.

You curl one hand under his naked bicep and pull.

The man is nude. He’s hard to make out in the dark and the rain and the howling, snarling wind.

He follows you though, follows the touch of your hand, the press of your fingertips, like you are a glow of light in a dark tunnel and he the moth.

The earth squelches beneath your feet, mud squeezes between your toes and tugs at the hem of your dress.

He follows you up the decaying back stairs, straight through the still open doors, gauzy curtains fluttering in the storm winds, ripping at their fastenings.

As soon as you’re inside, the din of the rain is muted. The air is heavy with salt, like blood is in the air, like a sea of red has spilled across the dilapidated floorboards.

All you want is to look at him, but violence breaks loose from the monster turned man.

His hands are large, veiny and thick and crushing when he backs you into a wall.

He is naked in his entirety, and you can’t stop your eyes from spilling down his body. He cages you against the wall, thick forearms and biceps pressing you in tight. His chest is broad, littered with a smattering of wiry, dark hair. Scars criss cross his arms, his shoulders. Broad shoulders lead to a tapered waist and strong thighs.

Your mouth goes dry at the sight of his cock, half hard and nestled in a thatch of dark hair. He’s big, thick.

You should not want this monster, this man without a name that has been gifted to you by a storm that seemed to be conjured right out of hell.

But he has been. He is yours.

He has been gifted to you.

Not the storm, you think. The forest. The dark green, solid black interior, has given him to you.

You can feel him, feel his soul, like fishing line connects you, is tied to the ventricles of your heart and his. If you pull away, it will tear, it will rip.

Your thighs ache. Tingling wanting sweeps from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes. There’s a hollow space inside your belly, growling, hungry. Your pussy clenches and you almost reach for him.

The force of the wind blows a window open, slams it into a wall where it shatters with the impact. You glance into the stranger’s face, your eyes jerking up to his. He’s dripping with rainwater, hair slicked back from his forehead, black and gray in the moonlight, in the darkness of the storm and the house and your heart.

He looks, for all the world, like someone you once knew.

You can’t place who, water dripping into your eyes.

One hand curls around your throat, and your eyes flutter closed at the sensation. You shudder when your heels leave the floor. He lifts you until you’re left on your tiptoes, gasping.

You’ve never been lifted before, not in any kind of way, and certainly not like this. He’s strong, much too strong.

His eyes are dark, swallowed by black pupils. His teeth pull back from his lips in a snarl, white teeth flashing.

Maybe you don’t recognize him after all.

The darkness in his gaze makes you want to sink into the blank spots flashing in your vision. You force yourself to suck in a breath, force yourself not to get lost like a little lamb.

“Why did you call me here?”

His voice is deep and gritty. It’s a voice you would like to plunge your hands into, tweak into a melody, or something far more sinister.

“I didn’t,” you say. “How could I?”

He has crinkles by his eyes, the tops of his cheeks. His forehead is wrinkled with tension. His beard is mostly gray, his lips pink, like the only spot of color.

He’s beautiful.

And you want him so bad, you would let him pluck the veins from your body one by one if it meant he would keep looking at you, if it meant his attention was on you alone.

His gaze slides from your face to your body. Your dress is plastered to your frame with rainwater, wet and sticking. The white has been made transparent and there’s nothing left to his imagination. You may as well be nude. Goosebumps race across your skin.

The monster releases your throat and instead leans into you, his body so hot it burns. He inhales against you, his nose just below your ear. All you can do is hang on, dig blunt nails into the flesh of his shoulders. You feel the twist of muscle beneath your fingers, the sinewy pull of tendon along his spine.

The scent of rain and earth surrounds you, blood and pine. Like the forest just bore him into the world, like he is new.

Your taut nipples brush against his chest, lightning careening through your body. The ache between your thighs grows steadily, makes you twitch forward into him.

His stiff cock presses against your center, and you feel him inhale against your throat, bitten off in a growl that rocks the floorboards of the old house.

The earth shakes, like it’s thinking of cracking open to swallow you both down.

When he sinks his teeth into the juncture of your shoulder and throat, you groan. His bites so hard, your vision blurs with the pain. Your pussy clenches hard nothing and your hips rock forward into him, seeking pleasure to go along with the pain.

“This what you wanted?” He asks when he pulls his mouth away, hips rutting against yours. He licks over the wound, breathes you in again.

The wet fabric of your dress does little to dull the sensation, does nothing to protect you from the fire that looms inside.

You had it wrong, you are not a flame to his moth. You are a raindrop against a forest fire.

“I can fuckin’ smell what you want.” Blood sweeps down your neck in a heady rush, it soaks the front of your dress. His lips are red when he pulls back.

You tilt your chin back and nod, drunk on him, on the storm lashing at the house. “I missed you,” you say, and somehow it’s true. The twine that connects you to him pulls tighter and harder until you cry out, and you have to wonder if you did call him from some dark otherworld, if you made him from clay and darkness and saltwater and now he’s yours.

His eyes are familiar, the amber ring so small his eyes seem black.

Iron hot hands grip your hips, jerk you against him.

You’re nothing in his hands, incorporeal, like a ghost, like the world ended a long time ago and you’ve just been waiting to be found again.

Moss blooms on your soul, overtakes your lungs and your heart and your ribs, it consumes you and the house and the whole world.

There’s a tenderness in the way he lowers you to the floor, rotting planks of wood pressed into your spine. Your dress is rucked up around your waist.

The bulk of him settles heavily over you, his tongue sweeps against the mark he left on your shoulder. Something agonizingly loud chases the gods across the sky when he growls at the taste.

“We’re going to drown,” you breathe, air caught up in your chest. You clutch him closer, feel the bare press of his cock against your cunt for the first time, strong hands cradling your thighs, your hips. A shudder rakes up your spine, slices you open at the throat.

The monster answers, “Missed you, too.” He tugs down your bloodied collar, gaze sinking into your skin, sticking like a knife in your ribs. One huge hand passes over your breasts, pinches your nipples between rough fingertips until you cry out.

He’s inside you in one thrust. It hurts but that’s okay, because it means you aren’t alone. It means someone is finally at home with you.

He sets a brutal pace, grips you by your hips and then your ribs. Clawed fingers sink into your ribs, carve out pieces of your flesh, until more blood blooms. It's beautiful, like flowers opening in rain.

He covers your mouth with his when you scream and the whole world breaks apart.

He doesn’t know your name. He doesn’t want to know it. Doesn’t want to know what to call such a lonely little thing. Doesn’t want to know what to call something so powerfully alone, something so lost in loneliness it called him from one world into the next.

The rain hasn’t stopped. It pounds against the side of the house, against the weathered, creaking wood.

You carry a candle, body and hair and clothes dry now. The flame whispers gently, gutters between your fingers. Hot melted wax trails over your knuckles.

“Is there something I can call you?” You crouch and tilt your head, kneeling next to him where he lies on the floor.

He thinks he’s on the third floor, the hallway. He doesn’t remember how he got there.

He’d give you his name if he remembered it.

The side of your neck is bruised with his teeth, the outline of his mouth indented in your flesh. The sight makes his cock jump.

He feels like he knows you, but maybe you just feel familiar because he’s broken you from the inside out.

He doesn’t answer and you don’t seem to expect one. Your warm hand touches his shoulder.

He wants to have you again. He’s hungry for the nectar of your flesh. You taste like the sea, like the gales that blow against the creaking, ancient house. Like salt and rainwater and lightning. He wants to dig his hands into you, into the meat of your lungs so he can feel you breathing, into the chambers of your heart so he can feel which direction your blood flows.

He wants to be the one to stop your heart mid-beat, so it could always be his.

Breaking open your ribs, sucking the marrow from the interior, taking a bite from your soul—he thinks you’d thank him for something like that.

Your scent has mellowed out a little. You smell just like you taste, and now it's undercut with him, with the muskiness of him and the lingering want between your legs.

Thunder cracks overhead, splits the world in two. You don’t so much as flinch and he covers your warm hand. The storm seems to perpetually hover right above the house. It’s been days, and it’s still there.

He’s still coated in mud and you, his bones still hurt from the transition from beast to beast.

You’re tempting, lit in lamplight and the reflected glow of the moon.

He wonders if the sun ever rises here.

“You can stay,” you say. “I don’t know how you’ll get home.”

You voice is like a song that reminds him—

Joel. The name comes to him with a flash of lightning.

“Joel,” he tells you. He wants you to know.

“Joel,” you repeat.

His name sets off something dangerous in his mind, kicks something possessive and protective alive.

His.

His, his, his.

You belong to him.

He twists, and pushes you back. The candle in your hand tumbles to the floor and goes out. “Joel,” you coo again. “Joel.”

He pushes your skirt up, sees the shine of want on your pussy, your pretty cunt, still puffy from the last time he fucked you. Your thighs are rubbed raw from his beard.

He licks you there, sucks your clit between his lips. You moan, your hips buck, and he doesn’t stop. He wants all of it, that musky taste of you in his mouth forever.

You taste like crystal seas, like blackened skies and fire and darkness.

“Joel,” you say his name, you pant his name. Fingers tangle in his hair, yank so hard he snarls against you. “I want it to hurt.”

So, he makes it hurt.

The water in the bathtub is warm. He can see the steam rising around you in drafts.

He likes looking at you, softly bruised on your thighs and hips, perpetual bite mark on your shoulder.

Joel likes watching the way you move. He likes the soft curves of your body, the peaks of your tight nipples, the elegant curve of your waist and neck. Your body is like a music note, or a question mark.

The house feels swollen, waterlogged and dense. Laughter and voices twist behind doors that lead to nothing and nowhere. Fungi and moss and creeping vines claw at the walls of the house, rotting wood threatening to give out with agonized moans. There are moldering photos and paintings in the halls and bedrooms that he can’t quite look at. Rainwater seeps through the cracks in the ceiling.

“It used to be beautiful,” you say to him about the house, running a pristinely white washcloth reverently over the bite on your shoulder, then the scratches over your ribs. His scratches, his marks. “The sky was always blue. Everything inside was clean and light and everything outside was green and fresh.” You look at him, sitting in the dark beside the bathtub. “But that’s all over, now.”

The thread coiled around his head gives a twinge. “You were married,” he says. He knows things about you that he shouldn’t and he wonders if he really came from otherworld, or if you created him with grief and love and loneliness.

“He died,” you confirm. “The world ended. And then the rot crept in.”

Joel stands and your chest hitches as you stare up at him. He pushes down the trousers you gave him, that fit him just right, and climbs into the water with you.

You gasp and then tears are sliding down your cheeks. You must be wondering the same thing—if you called him here or created him.

It doesn’t matter.

What matters is that you open your legs and let him fuck you again, water spilling over the side of the bathtub, soaking the floor.

What matters is that you are his and he yours.

Your eyes flutter closed, your lips part, when his hand closes around your throat.

The house is like a prison, but you make it into something livable.

The moon and sun do rise, here in this foreign, familiar place. Candles weigh down every surface, and the lights stay off. Neither of you seem to want them on.

The sea crashes violently against the seawall, the sharp teeth of jagged rocks jut up from the bottom, like the mouth of Charybdis. You loom in the window some days, watching the swirling water with lust in your eyes, like you’d like to dive into it.

He can’t help but notice the widow’s walk is on the wrong side of the house. It faces the forest, not the sea, like the house has turned its back on the world, too. The forest whispers, trembles.

He always pulls you back from the edge, fucks you until you can’t take him anymore, until you’re crying and limp and the wire tied up inside him goes loose.

You ask him to leave once. You tell him he could figure it out, how to go home, but his devotion to you is total now, his loyalty is to you alone. Home is here, in the house swelling with moisture, with you picking herbs and sliding your fingers along the crowns of fungi like they’re beloved pets.

You are his altar, his god; the vision, the future.

Even thinking about leaving causes something in his chest to pang so hard he doubles over, that thing tied to you.

“Are you still lonely?” he asks, when his cock is inside you and his mouth leaves a new bite on your bicep. “I enough for you?”

“You’re everything,” your eyes roll back, slip closed. He cups your breast in his hand, sucks your nipple into his mouth and thinks of the straits of his heart. Your chest heaves against his lips. He still wants to break you, to tear open your chest, just to live inside it.

Devoted.

It’s a good word. He’d keep you safe, even from himself.

Your pussy twitches around him, clenching weakly. “Am I enough for you?” You make him lift his head, hands cupped under his chin. “Could I ever be?”

You don’t know. You don’t know, you don’t know, you don’t know.

You don’t know how devoted he is. That he would kill for you, die, that he wants to live amongst your bones now.

The ancient house gives a groan, the rain comes down harder. He thrusts into you and you whine. “Will you leave?” Your voice is pathetically small.

The house trembles, like it’s afraid too and is threatening to crumble into the sea with both of you inside.

“Never.”

One day, the rain goes light and foamy, the sky turns slate gray. It's almost a sunny day.

Someone else emerges from the woods.

Joel turns to you. You’re still on the bed, snaked through with vines and green, naked, covered in him. His spend shimmers between your thighs, on your cunt. Sweat shines between your breasts and at the base of your throat and he wants you again.

“What did you do?” He snarls.

“Nothing.”

He watches the man, not beast, stumble closer.

Jealous heat rises in his chest. You’ve called forth another man. Consciously or unconsciously, he’s there.

“What d’ya want me to do?” Joel sounds desperate and he doesn’t care.

You don’t answer, you rise from the clean white of the sheets and go down the steps in all your naked glory. He follows, watches the jiggle of your ass, the movement of your back and waist, the weight of your breasts. The scars his nails left on your ribs reassure him.

You belong to him, he is yours. He would kill you both, to keep you safe from others.

No stranger would change that. Whatever your heart needed, that had conjured something else, another man, from the deep of the shimmering, knowing, rustling woods, he would become it, give it to you.

The man is kind and soft.

He needs help.

You talk to him, and Joel watches him lean in, eyes never straying from yours even though you are bare to the cold wind. “Is he hurting you?” The newcomer asks.

Joel doesn’t hear your answer. He feels the wire around his heart tug, the sharp echoing sting makes you gasp and clutch at the railing. The new man has no reaction and all the jealous possessive feelings immediately settle. If his heart wasn’t tied to yours, he wasn’t meant to stay.

He was a lesson for Joel.

The man’s eyes go to Joel then to you. “He’s a monster, miss.”

You shake your head. “He’s perfect.”

You turn and walk back to him. You touch Joel’s shoulder, curl your fist into his t-shirt. “Joel,” you say softly. You touch his cheek. “I know why he came.”

“I do too.” He stands there a moment longer, kisses your fingers when you press them against his mouth. “What d’ya want me to do?” He asks again.

You glance over your shoulder, then back into his eyes. “I want you to kill him, Joel.”

You watch the beast kill the man.

Then, you watch the beast break its bones, reform its skin, to come back to you.

And when he does, he tells you that was his lesson.

His hands are stained red, blood seeps into your skin. Joel pushes into you, soft and slow. He doesn’t hurt you, even when you tell him to. “You need a kind hand, girl,” he tells you. “You’ve lived by the sea for too long.”

Tears come first, pleasure without pain for the first time in years comes second.

He touches you with red printed fingers. The sheets are covered in the blood of a stranger that taught you a lesson. “Are you hurt?” You ask.

“No.”

“You’re lying.”

He looks at you with those eyes, dark and knowing and loyal. He would never admit to that. Instead, he says, “I would do it a thousand times.”

You stroke his cheek. “Do you think it was real? Do you think he was real?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Because I’m real, too.”

The forest gave him to you, to each other, so it must be real.

Joel must be real. You settle against him, and decide that’s true.

But don’t you ever wonder, you want to ask as you kiss his bare chest, what is in the forest? What is in the sea?

Don’t you wonder, you want to ask him, why you look so much like my husband?

💕 Thank you for reading! Comments, replies, and reblogs are so appreciated. 💕

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #haunted hoedown

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brnesblogposts · 1 month

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I just wanted to say I LOVE YOUR FLUFF STORIES. ITS SO FLUFFY IM GONNA DIE! 🥰🤣💙 and... I was wondering if you could you do a story were reader (girl) is on a walk in the rain with an umbrella, and spots a guy (Bucky) sitting on a bench in the soft rain with no umbrella. She sits near him and ever so sneakily shares her umbrella? Bucky could appreciate the strangers kindness despite not knowing him. The story can be as long or short as you like! 💙 Have a great day/afternoon/night! ♡ Thank you!

thank you so much! means the world, and this is my first request so i’m really excited 🙈!

i hope you like what i came up with :)

It was the worst kind of rain, it was a fine but heavy rain that soaked everything rather quickly. Luckily you had your umbrella on you and quickly popped it open before you got too wet, despite the rain the walk through the park was beautiful, just what you needed to clear your mind.

A couple minutes later you noticed a man sitting on a bench, his clothes looked wet and his hair was starting to get soaked by the fine droplets, he didn’t look like he was going to move nor did it look like he had an umbrella. In fact it looked like he was lost in head a thousand yard stare on his face.

Approaching slowly you acted as if you were just taking a break and sitting down, he tensed up a bit as you did so but you tried to keep as much distance as possible as not to make him uncomfortable. Slowly but surely you managed to inch your umbrella further and further until it was covering the both of you, the rain was getting heavier now and he should not be sitting in it because he could get sick, but you weren’t one to judge, the man could be going through something.

Bucky noticed you straight away, he was weary as he is with most people. He was surprised when you sat on the bench, the same bench he sat on. People usually kept their distance from him, they were scared of him, of who they thought he was.

He started to relax again once he knew you weren’t a threat and he continued to stare into the distance, before long he noticed it had stopped raining, he looked up- an umbrella?

You were just sat there holding the umbrella for as long as he needed it, then he glanced at you and your heart jumped. His eyebrows were furrowed as if he were trying to figure out why you were sharing your umbrella.

“Sorry, didn’t want you to get sick” Your smile melted his heart and he continued to stare at you bewildered for a few seconds.

“I can’t get sick” He stated before seeing your confused face “The super soldier serum- it prevents me from getting sick” He explains but still your face doesn’t change actually you look more confused.

“You don’t know who I am?” He asks curiously because it’s so refreshing not to recognised and automatically feared.

“You’re a man on the bench sitting in the rain getting wet.” You smile gently “Should I know who you are?” He shakes his head and takes a few seconds to think something over.

“Bucky” He nods his head at you in a sort of greeting and you do the same introducing yourself.

“Do you share your umbrella with soaking strangers often?” There’s the tiniest hint of a smirk on his face, you feel proud you broke through his tough exterior.

“Only the really handsome ones” To your surprise he blushes and you can’t help but smile at how shy he gets, he looks so tough but he’s not, really.

“Now you know I can’t get sick, keep the umbrella for yourself” He smiles softly.

“Do you have the ability to feel cold?” You inquire.

“Yes”

“Then the umbrella is staying” He finds you amusing, how you’re not intimidated by him.

He notices you’re shivering though.

“You wanna- um- wanna get a cup of coffee? Hot chocolate? Something to warm you- Us up?” He’s blushing again clearly nervous.

“Sounds like a plan, do I also get to know the handsome man whom I shared my umbrella with?” You stand as he does and he takes the umbrella holding it over both of you as he’s taller.

“Sure” He smiles and you both walk to a near by cafe. Bucky can’t wait to tell Sam about his afternoon, Sam will never believe him.

please let me know if you’d like to be added to my bucky tag list!

#bucky barnes #writerblr #bucky barnes x reader #avengers x reader #avengers #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x female reader #marvel #ask request

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lenafromthenordiccoven · 3 months

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Call Out Our Names - Bob x f!reader x Phoenix

(moodboard made by me, Top Gun Maverick screencaps by hd-screencaps, rest free-pik.com)

Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x afab!reader x Natasha “Phoenix” Trace

Requested? yes

Rating: M – MDNI 18+

Word count: 3244

Warnings: why choose, threesome (FFM), oral (f!receiving), bi!reader, soft dom!Bob, definitely pleasure dom!Phoenix, Bob Floyd fucks, and so does Phoenix, fingering, unprotected PinV (be smart and wrap it, folks)

Summary: When your best friend, Mickey, invites you to come stay with him in San Diego for a bit, you didn’t expect that to lead you to meet two new people who would catch your eye immediately. Only problem is: you don’t think, they’re the sharing type. But maybe – just maybe – you’re wrong?

Read on ao3

Taglist: @high-speed-r

A/N: Thank you for sending in that lovely request, anon! Hope, you’ll enjoy what my brain cooked up. (Cause those two definitely have me in a constant state of bi panic) And I’m so sorry for the long wait 😭 Please accept my first humble offering to @attapullman’s International Bob Floyd Fucks month.

You didn’t quite know what to expect when Mickey had told you, you’d both be going to a BBQ at his former instructor’s home. In fact, you had no idea what to expect of your time in San Diego at all. Mickey, your best friend since kindergarten and WSO for the Navy, was now stationed permanently in San Diego for the foreseeable future and, thus, had invited you out to stay with him for a bit. “You can meet the squad and you can relax. Most importantly, relax. I know, you’ve probably been working yourself to the bone again,” he’d said.

And, though you would never admit it, he wasn’t wrong. Running an animal accessory boutique in Northern Cali, as well as volunteering at your local animal shelter and running the shelter’s social media accounts were more than enough to have you falling into your bed face first at the end of the day. But you’d also recently started remote classes for a degree in psychology and social services, trying to establish a program in your town that would bring together veterans and pets that needed foster homes or new, permanent homes. To say you were exhausted would be an understatement. You didn’t think, you’d ever get rid of the tiredness in your bones. So, while you felt guilty for going away at all, your boss at the shelter had urged you to take some time off. And then Mickey had offered his guest room.

And now you were standing in Captain Mitchell’s backyard, who’d introduced himself as Pete. “Although Maverick or Mav are both fine, too,” he’d joked given that most of the squad called him Mav now. Mickey had introduced you to everybody and while Hangman and Coyote had both flirted with you (after Mickey had made it clear that you were just friends), you couldn’t keep your eyes from wandering to Bob and Phoenix, both standing next to Rooster and Mav and helping with the BBQ.

You know, you’d caught their eyes wandering back to you multiple times by now. Especially since Bob was now sporting a blush that surely had little to do with the heat from the grill. But you had yet to exchange more than polite hellos with either of them – and you wanted to, badly.

“You can talk to them, you know,” Mickey said, nudging you with his elbow in your side when he caught your thousand-yard-stare.

You jumped slightly, brought back to reality by your best friend’s teasing hint. “I-I…? What?” you sputtered before opting to just keep your mouth shut entirely. He was right. You could go over there and introduce yourself. You wanted to, after all. But you were taken aback by the ferocity of your own desire.

“They don’t bite. Well, Nat might. But Bob usually doesn’t.”

You tear your gaze away from their backs – you were 99,9% sure, they should’ve felt your stare burning into their flesh anyway – and turn to look at your best friend. “You think? But—”

“No buts. Just go over there, talk to them and, most importantly, relax and have fun.” He gave you a little shove with his hand on the small of your back in the direction of the grill.

Phoenix saw you first, nodding at you before lightly tapping on Bob’s shoulder, so you’d have his attention as well. He turned around, the light blue eyes behind his gold-wire-rimmed glasses immediately locked onto yours and you could feel the heat creep up your own neck and into your cheeks.

“Y/N, right?” Phoenix asked and you nodded. “What’s up? Need us to save you from Bagman?”

You chuckled at the variation of Hangman’s callsign. Mickey hadn’t been able to tell you much from his last deployment, but he had told you why people called Hangman Hangman, or sometimes Bagman in Phoenix’s case. “Uh, no. Came over here to talk to the two of you, actually.” You nervously put a strand of hair back behind your right ear.

“You-you did?” Bob asked, his eyes now wide with surprise before he exchanged a quick look with Phoenix, who was now smiling at you like she knew how to read your thoughts and knew exactly what you had on your mind.

“Yeah, I did. I do.”

***

You still had no idea how you’d gone from talking and laughing with Phoenix and Bob in Mav’s backyard to now having Phoenix steal the breath from your lungs with a searing kiss as Bob tried to open his front door. You couldn’t help the whimper rising in your throat when you felt Phoenix’s thigh wedge itself between your legs and bump against your core.

You heard Bob groan next to you as the door finally gave way and the three of you tumbled inside. It didn’t take long for him to retake his spot behind you, the heat radiating off his body making you shiver. His hands drifted down your sides and to your hips as Phoenix’s came up to massage your breasts over your bra and shirt. You openly moaned against her mouth, eliciting a chuckle from her.

“Somebody’s sensitive,” Bob murmured against your ear. “You know,” he continued, gently taking your earlobe between his teeth and quickly tugging, “I’m not usually one for sharing. But I’ll make an exception this time. If you let me take the lead, Nat.”

Phoenix pulled back from the kiss, chuckling as you chased after her lips, having grown addicted to her taste after just a few minutes. “Can’t promise that, but I’ll try.”

“Fine by me. Now, let’s get ourselves to the bedroom, shall we?” Bob grumbled against your neck and you nodded furiously. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your core throbbed in time with your heartbeat. All you could think was desire, all you could feel was how their touches and kisses set your body ablaze even through your clothes. Fuck, this was definitely not what you’d envisioned when you’d accepted Mickey’s invitation. But it was so much better than what your brain could have ever come up with.

Somehow, the three of you had made it into Bob’s bedroom without falling, your bodies fused together and limbs tangled. It was a miracle, you thought, that you’d managed to take off your clothes at all. Leaving the three of you in just your underwear.

You licked your lips as your eyes raked over their forms, drawing a chuckle from Bob. “You like what you see, darlin’?” His eyes had darkened as his pupils had blown out with lust; Phoenix looked equally as hungry as you felt.

You nodded, your hands moving to cup him through his boxers. He groaned, snaked an arm around your waist and pulled you to him to press his lips against yours. You sighed against his lips, easily allowing him to slip his tongue inside your mouth. Then you felt Phoenix press her front against your back and nibble on your shoulder, her hands gripping your hips and guiding your movement as you rubbed against Bob’s thigh and crotch.

“Are you going to be a good girl for us, Y/N?” Phoenix whispered and you broke the kiss with Bob as you nodded.

“Yes, anything. I’ll do anything you want.” You’re pretty sure, your brain has actually stopped working as the only thing you cared about was the feeling of their bodies against yours, their touches, their kisses—the noises they made. So, you’re surprised, you can get any words out at all, let alone a full sentence.

“Eager, are we?” Bob mumbles, you blink up at him and barely catch the slightly smug smirk on his lips. The brief glimpse you got sent you reeling regardless, never having thought it possible for this softspoken, shy-looking man to be so dominant in the bedroom. Oh, you’d been wrong. So wrong. And you loved it. You’d forgotten what it was like to have somebody else make the decisions for you, to be able to just let yourself fall, relax and enjoy pleasure.

“Maybe just a little bit?” you replied in equally hushed tones. Your voice drifted off into a sigh when Phoenix’s fingers brushed your core over your soaked panties. Your head falls back against her shoulder.

She clicked her tongue at you. “You’ve ruined your panties, pretty girl. Soaked through them cause you want us so badly, hm?” You whimpered in response, her touch growing firmer, rubbing circles over your pubic mound, but the pressure wasn’t enough against your clit.

“What, can’t even answer us anymore? We’ve barely touched you, darlin’.” You squeezed your eyes shut and your thighs together, essentially trapping Phoenix’s hand between them at Bob’s words. Condescension and lust were dripping off his voice like honey—or drops of oil, only adding fuel to the flames of desire raging through your veins. You reached out your hands for the hem of his boxers, you managed to begin dragging them down over his hips. You slipped out of Phoenix’s grasp on your own hips and were about halfway to your knees in front of them before Bob stopped you by grabbing your wrists.

He shook his head at you, you blinked at him in response, wide-eyed. Had you done something wrong? The question must have been clearly written on your face because he shook his head again, gently cupped your jaw with one of his hands. His thumb stroked over the skin of your cheek and you leaned into the touch, your eyes fluttering closed at the touch. Bob cleared his throat and brought your gaze back to his face.

“Not that I’m not dyin’ to find out what your mouth feels like around my cock, we can do that another time.” Another time. You almost lost your mind at the implication of doing this again. And your mind was already tirelessly spinning out of control in the haze of lust and promised touches. Bob continued, “Why don’t you get on your knees on that bed, ass in the air and show Nat just how badly you wanna please us?”

You heard her groan above you at the implication and you nodded. At this point, you couldn’t give a single fuck anymore about how needy you’d come off to them. You needed them, wanted them, practically burned with the need to please them and have them take care of you in return. Your body should have turned to ashes by now with how hot you felt. However, despite the desire making your every motion feel hazy and inefficient, you managed to climb onto the bed. You hadn’t noticed Phoenix getting comfortable with her back propped up against the headboard. She reached out one of her hands for you and you took it, scooting up until you were almost kneeling in her lap.

“Come here,” she whispered and drew you in by your hand. The other landed on your neck and jaw. She pulled you ever closer, until your breasts brushed hers just as her lips captured yours in a honey-sweet kiss that did nothing to hide the hunger burning underneath her skin, too. You kissed her back, desperate now that you’d gotten a taste, and tried to deepen the kiss. But then you felt Bob’s hands come to rest on your hips, his thumbs drawing soothing circles onto your skin when you’d jumped at the unexpected contact.

Just as Bob pulled your hips and ass backwards and up towards him, Phoenix pushed you down with a hand on your shoulder until your upper body rested on the mattress between her legs. Your face was now eye-level with her bare pussy. When had she taken the time to take off her own panties? You barely had time to wonder, let alone voice the question, when Bob’s lips on your lower back drew a sigh and a shudder from you.

His lips briefly brushed the shell of your ear as he let almost the whole, delicious weight of his body rest on top of yours, and whispered: “Go on, don’t be shy. Show us what that pretty mouth of yours can do, darlin’.” You almost whined when he withdrew from your back again and the cool air of the bedroom hit your heated skin. He hooked his

“What are you going to do, Bob?” Phoenix asked, the gaze from her half-closed eyes was glued to yours. You could see no hesitation in them and decided to just try and see what her reaction would be. You leaned forward and gave her pussy a tentative kiss, your eyes never leaving her face. When you saw her eyelids flutter, you grew bolder, licked a stripe from her entrance to her clit and then closed your lips around the bud.

“Fuck, Y/N. Knew your mouth would feel good,” Phoenix breathed and slipped one of her hands into your hair on the back of your head. “Keep going, pretty girl. Treating me so well. Use your fingers.” You did as asked, kitten-licking her again. You were about to suck on her clit and slip your index finger into her entrance, when Bob gripped your ass with both his hands and pulled you back against his face. Your mouth fell open and you couldn’t hold back the moan bubbling up your throat as he mirrored your actions. With the difference that the two fingers he was slipping inside of you felt deliciously thicker than your own, now pumping in and out Phoenix at a slow, cautious rhythm while you were figuring out what she liked.

Phoenix’s hand tightened in your hair, her fingertips digging into your skin as you kept going, moaning against her own slick core. You could feel her walls clench down on your fingers as you hooked them and brushed against the sweet spot. She let her head sink back against the headboard and a moan tumbled from her lips; the sound made your heart soar and your chest swell with pride.

“Fuck. You’re seriously missing out, Bobby,” Phoenix said, her voice breathless. And you saw her chest heave with every breath. You could hear Bob chuckle behind you.

“I believe you, Nat. But I’ve got a gorgeous little pussy over here, beggin’ for my attention.” He pressed another kiss to one of your ass cheeks, then he brushed his thumb over your clit, practically strumming the bundle of nerves as if he was trying out the feel and sound of a new guitar. You moaned against Phoenix again, letting your head fall away from her core.

You whimpered, felt your own release approach quickly while Phoenix’s walls pulsed around your fingers. “Please, Bob. I need you. Need to feel you.”

Bob didn’t stop his ministrations; instead, he put his free hand on your back, right in the middle of your shoulder blades and pushed you back down towards Phoenix. “I know, baby. We’ve got you, I promise. Just need you to come on my fingers first, can you do that for us, hm?” His weight was back against your back and you felt him press a kiss against the spot where your neck joined your shoulder.

You nodded, his weight on top of you and Phoenix’s hand that had now slipped from the back of your head to cup your cheek felt like the only things still anchoring you to this world. Otherwise, you were sure, you would fully lost yourself to the stream of pleasure. Phoenix whispering your praises and Bob encouraging you to keep eating her out and pumping your fingers in and out of her, had you clenching around his in your core. The tingling started in your toes and you hadn’t realized, you were curling them up until pleasure shot up your legs and spine to flare out through the rest of your body. Just as Phoenix sighed your name with a satisfied smile on her lips and her thighs clamped down over your ears, muffling any other sounds.

You came up, gasping for air, just as you could feel Bob nudge the head of his thick cock against your entrance. Phoenix drew you up and towards her to press her lips against yours in a kiss of gratitude. You gasped against her as Bob slowly pushed inside of you. One of his big hands was gently rubbing circles on your back, Phoenix reached down to your breasts. She grinned against your lips, you’d almost call it a smirk if you weren’t so lost in the way Bob’s cock was stretching you. Then, Phoenix took one of your lips between her fingers, only rolling it gently at first, before she gave it a quick, sharp twist. Something between a gasp and a moan escaped your mouth and you felt her chuckle more than you heard her. Your own heartbeat was too loud in your ears.

Bob quickly set a delicious pace of quick thrusts, never fully pulling out of your pussy or lifting his chest off your back. You faintly heard him groan against your ear, felt his breath leave his mouth in short pants against your skin. “Fuck, Y/N. You feel fucking heavenly. Takin’ me so well.”

“Faster, please. N-need you to go faster.” You had no idea how you’d managed to get the words out, let alone string together two whole sentences in the same instance. Your heart was pounding in your chest, hammering so hard against your ribcage, you thought, it was either going to burst or break through your ribs. Bob complied, moaning loudly as he felt your walls clench in response.

“I know, you’re close, darlin’. Come on. Be a good girl and come on my cock.” You maned at his words. But when you felt Phoenix shift slightly underneath you, then her fingers rubbing tight circles against your clit, you couldn’t hold back the scream any longer. Pleasure erupted inside you, the coil that had tightened in your belly finally snapping. You faintly heard Bob ask, if he could come inside you and you don’t know how you’d responded with a “Yes” loud enough for him to hear. He groaned, before mouthing at your neck and shoulder as his perfect rhythm faltered and his lips ultimately stilled inside you.

The two of you practically collapsed on top of Phoenix, your legs and arms no longer able to support both your weight as you desperately sucked air into your lungs. You heard her giggle underneath you and felt your lips stretch into a tired, fucked-out smile.

“That was…incredible.”

“Agreed. Now, let’s get ourselves cleaned up and cozy, shall we?” Phoenix asked. Bob only mumbled something you couldn’t quite understand beyond the ringing in your ears finally, slowly, subsiding.

You felt him pull out and whined at the sudden feeling of emptiness, your own limbs too heavy with exhaustion and the afterglow of pleasure to keep him on top of you. You had no idea how you formed the words leaving your lips next. “Can we…do this again, sometime?”

And you barely caught their affirmative responses as you tried your hardest not to drift off to sleep already. Damn it, Mickey had been right. This had been fun. And you never would have guessed, his invitation to stay with him for a couple days ever leading to anything like this. But you also weren’t about to complain. No, never that. Meeting Bob and Phoenix had been a godsent and you hoped, you could hold onto them in the future.

#sophie writes #fanfic: call out our names #bob floyd x f!reader x natasha phoenix trace #bob x reader x phoenix #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x f!reader #natasha trace x reader #natasha trace x f!reader #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun fanfiction #bob floyd smut #natasha trace smut #international bob floyd fucks month

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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 7 months

Text

To Be a Man (Part 2) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Wife!OC (Sophie)

Word Count: 3.0k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only

Warnings: Non-Traditional Family Dynamics; Marriage of Convenience/Necessity; Implied Sexual Content; Jealous!Jake; Cocky!Rooster; Third Person POV, Named OC kids and Wife, No Physical Descriptions of Any OCs

Summary: Hangman and Sophie move to Miramar. The Daggers meddle.

Prologue Part 1 Part 3

Master List

“Alright, ready?” Jake asked Leila and Tyler, who were both practically bouncing where they stood.

“Ready!”

Jake placed the key into the lock on the front door of the new Seresin family residence in Miramar before swinging the door open. Leila and Tyler let out a squeal each before racing inside, eager to see the house that would be their new home. Sophie smiled and thanked Jake for holding the door for her before heading inside herself.

She had seen the house very briefly over FaceTime, since she had been busy holding down the fort back in Lemoore while Jake got everything prepared for their move to Miramar. And, after all, it was mostly his money going towards paying for it, so she didn’t offer her opinion on too many things. She told him to just find a house with three bedrooms and not too much work and that was it.

But when she spotted the little breakfast nook like she had talked about; and the big window in front of the kitchen sink like she wanted; and the backyard with the swings that Leila asked for; and the basketball hoop that Tyler wanted at the end of the driveway, she didn’t doubt that Jake put an excessive amount of time into finding the perfect house for them.

Jake watched Leila and Tyler explore, opening the back door for them so that they could run down and explore the yard. Turning back to Sophie, he paused when he caught her blissful smile as she spun around the living room, taking it all in.

“I didn’t do too bad, did I?” Jake asked, leaning on the wall.

“It’s perfect,” Sophie assured Jake, walking over to him.

Watching Leila and Tyler out in the backyard with a soft smile, she turned back to Jake with an expression that he had seen about a thousand times for her. She gave him that look when he offered to marry her, when he actually did, and for just about everything insignificantly small and beyond. She always spoke like he didn’t need to get her anything, when he was willing to give her the world if that was what she wanted.

“Thank you. I feel like I’ll never repay you for all of this.”

“You don’t have to repay me,” Jake reminded her, causing Sophie to nod slowly.

“I know, but—”

“—The truck is here!” Leila shouted, causing Jake and Sophie to turn to her.

Jake stepped outside to see the moving truck pulling around the corner. Jake’s truck and Sophie’s car were both already jam packed, but they still needed a moving truck for the bigger items and a lot of their other crap. Jake walked out to greet the movers while Sophie moved to entertain Leila and Tyler in the backyard, out of their way.

But when Sophie spotted a set of three cars rolling down the road and park in front of their new home, she couldn’t help but look around the house curiously. She quickly recognized the Bronco and Coyote’s truck and walked over to greet them. She wasn’t expecting anyone to come and help them move in, but any help was welcome.

“Javy!” Tyler shouted, darting around Sophie to greet him.

Leila was right behind Tyler, though she moved to quickly greet Phoenix, who she was starting to look up to with greater reverence. Jake was thrilled about that. Really thrilled. But Phoenix seemed content to act as a guide to Leila. Sophie wondered if in ten years, that would involve helping Leila sneak out under Jake’s nose, though she didn’t think too hard about that yet.

“You guys didn’t have to come and help us move,” Sophie stated as the entire Dagger Squad stepped out of their cars. “We didn’t help any of you move.”

“We all moved into apartments,” Coyote pointed out, standing up with Tyler on his back. “And we all knew that Hangman would never ask for help.”

“No, he wouldn’t,” Sophie mused as the aviator in question made his way over to them.

“I don’t remember sending out invites,” Hangman drawled, moving to stand next to Sophie, earning an elbow to the side.

“They’re here to help,” Sophie insisted, causing Jake to turn to her.

“We don’t need help.”

“Sure, we don’t,” Sophie replied with a bright smile before turning back to the Dagger Squad. “Come on, let me show you guys everything.”

“But,” Jake started to protest.

“Looks like you were overruled,” Phoenix mused, causing Hangman to sigh.

“Yeah, Jake, you were overruled,” Leila laughed, adding about four extra r’s to the last word.

“Alright, that’s it.”

Sophie looked back over her shoulder to see Leila squealing as Jake picked her up and spun her around. She giggled and lightly punched at Jake’s back, asking to be put down, but Jake pretended to not hear her and went about his business as if she wasn’t there. Smiling softly to herself, Sophie turned back to the truck to give out directions for where to put everything.

With the two movers and the Dagger Squad, the move was progressing very quickly. Sophie stood in the kitchen, gently unwrapping and putting away all of the kitchen supplies. Just as she was struggling to open another box, a hand reached out to help her.

Except it wasn’t her husband’s.

“Need some help with that?” Rooster asked, wearing a flirtatious smile.

“If you don’t mind,” Sophie replied, passing the box over to him. “Thank you.”

“Anything for a woman as beautiful as you,” Rooster returned, slicing open the box.

Sophie instantly raised an eyebrow, confused at Rooster’s phrasing. Unbeknownst to Sophie or Hangman, the rest of the Daggers had a silent mission of their own. They all saw just how Hangman pined after his wife. They saw the looks that they shared. They saw the subtle way that Sophie could calm him down with a hand on his arm or get him to shut up with a quick look.

And all that they needed was for Hangman to admit it. Because they couldn’t sit through a fifty-slide presentation as Hangman asked for their opinion on a perfect house and then just went with his gut in the first place. They could not do that again.

Hangman walked into the living room with a couch in between him and Coyote. Setting it against the side wall, Jake straightened up to see Sophie in the kitchen, still unpacking the utensils and everything. But she wasn’t alone this time. Rooster as there, smirking like an idiot, as he helped Sophie put away the glassware into one of the cupboards.

“You need help?” Jake immediately asked, walking over to where Sophie and Rooster were standing.

Coyote shared a look with Phoenix, who stood a few paces away. Phoenix shook her head, thinking that the whole jealousy card was overdone and a bad idea. But, hey, she wasn’t going to pay Rooster’s dental bill if he really pissed Hangman off.

“I think that we’re good,” Rooster replied, shooting Hangman a smirk that drew some kind of primitive growl out of Hangman’s chest.

“We’re fine,” Sophie stated, brushing some of her hair back. Smiling at Jake, she gestured towards the door. “Go grab the mattresses before Fanboy convinces Tyler to ride down the stairs on one.”

“You sure?” Jake insisted, glancing over at Rooster with a sharp glare. “I don’t mind.”

“I’m sure,” Sophie replied, having her own particular system in the kitchen.

Jake, a bit defeated, shot Rooster a look of death before walking off to start the process of moving the mattresses upstairs. Coyote and Phoenix shared another look before Phoenix rolled her eyes. Squatting down to Leila’s height, she offered Leila a small smile.

“Want to go work on that sign for your room?”

“Yeah!” Leila agreed excitedly, leading Phoenix out of the house.

Jake, Payback, Coyote, and Fanboy worked together to drag all of the heavier furniture upstairs with some help from the movers. Sweating, Jake wiped his forehead with his forearm after he and Coyote finally got the dresser upstairs and into the master bedroom. But he paused and spun around when he heard Sophie’s laughter echo up the stairs.

“Hey, did you want all of the boxes marked—” Bob started to ask before Jake moved right past him, heading downstairs quickly. “Okay then.”

Jake turned the corner and spotted Sophie kneeling on the countertop as she put away some plates and bowls and other stuff that they didn’t use too often up high in the cabinets. And Rooster the fucking bane of Jake’s current existence, stood right behind her, handing her items. And when Sophie sat up to put the items away, Rooster had a complete, uninterrupted view of her ass.

“Oh, hey, Hangman,” Rooster greeted him, waving condescendingly as Jake nearly combusted.

“You want to do some actual lifting, Rooster?” Jake snapped back, gesturing to the other dresser.

“Oh, but the view’s so nice here. Out your lovely window, I mean,” Rooster replied, causing Payback to choke on air.

“Rest in peace, Rooster,” Fanboy joked, making the sign of the cross.

“I should probably run out and grab lunch for anyone anyways,” Sophie stated, slowly getting down from the countertop. Rooster offered her a hand, which she took, before hopping down completely. “I was thinking pizza and some beer.”

“You need any help with it?” Rooster offered, causing Sophie to turn.

“Oh, I’ll be fine. Thanks.”

“Any time.”

Sophie grabbed her purse off the table and moved to grab her keys. Passing by Jake, she gently grabbed his hand, immediately breaking his death stare into Rooster’s skull.

“You want anything special?” she asked, smiling up at him.

“No, I’m fine.”

“Alright. Just text me if you need anything. Oh, and make sure that Tyler has his snack,” Sophie stated, checking her watch.

“Already did,” Jake reported, causing Sophie’s smile to brighten.

Pressing a lingering kiss to his cheek, she walked off, promising to be back with lunch. Jake watched her go before turning back to Rooster with the same death stare. Rooster waved to Jake and Fanboy swore that he saw steam pouring out of Jake’s ears.

But then Leila ran into the room with her sign, eager to show Jake her little project.

“Jake! Jake! Look at what I made!”

“What’d you make, Princess?” Jake asked, kneeling down to her height.

“It’s for my room,” Leila announced proudly.

Jake looked down at her sign and laughed a classic dad laugh when he saw the writing. On a thin piece of wood, Phoenix had painted a simple ‘No Boys Allowed’ in big black letters. But underneath, written by Leila in magic marker, was a little addendum of ‘But Not Jake.’

“It’s amazing, Leila,” Jake praised, studying the sign. “You think you can make one for your aunt too?”

“But what about Tyler?”

“You can add him to your aunt’s sign. But emphasize the other part, okay?”

“Okay.”

Standing up slowly, Jake turned to shoot Rooster one last glare before calling for the other Daggers to put their asses into gear. Sophie eventually returned with a stack of pizzas and some beer for the adults and some lemonade for the kids. They set up shop outside on the deck, which was mostly shaded from the sun, and took a well-deserved break.

“I made a sign for your room!” Leila shouted, causing Sophie to turn to her.

“Did you?”

“Yeah! Phoenix helped with mine! And Jake asked me to make one for you!”

“Did he now?” Sophie mused, taking the sign from Leila’s hand.

She smiled and let out a laugh when she spotted what Leila had written. Just as she was about to comment about it, however, Rooster slid into the seat beside her.

“What do you have there?” Rooster asked, resting his arms behind Sophie.

“Just a sign that Leila made for Jake and my room,” Sophie replied, showing it to Rooster.

“Is that negotiable at all?” Rooster questioned, causing Leila to frown dramatically.

Before Sophie could even attempt to respond, Tyler’s laugh made her turn quickly. Jake was out in the backyard, doing pushups with Tyler on his back, giggling and holding on tight. Jake didn’t even look like it was a struggle, though Sophie had to assume he was sore from all the moving.

“See, you weigh nothing,” Jake joked, causing Tyler to pout.

“I do weigh something!”

“I can’t seem to feel it,” Jake returned, causing Leila to run down there.

Climbing up onto Jake’s back too, Leila laughed along with her brother as Jake continued to do pushups with them on his back. And despite their efforts and their giggles, Jake kept going. Rooster glanced over at Sophie to see her sitting a bit perched on her seat, lips slightly parted with her tongue licking her bottom lip before taking it in between her teeth. Hell, someone could have waved a hand in front of her face and she wouldn’t have blinked.

“Well, I think that confirms it,” Phoenix stated dryly, sharing a look with Coyote.

“Alright, I think that’s enough,” Jake called, putting his knees down.

“Ha! We won!” Leila shouted victoriously, pointing up at Jake.

“Nuh uh!”

“Yeah huh!”

“Nuh uh!” Jake replied dramatically, causing Sophie to smile to herself.

Leila and Tyler continued to squabble with Jake, but he returned it just the same. Stepping up onto the deck again, Jake deposited Tyler onto Coyote and Leila quickly ran to Sophie’s side. And sat right in between Sophie and Rooster.

“Jesus, it’s hot out,” Jake complained, moving to sit beside his wife.

“You’re the one who had to go and do extra pushups,” Sophie pointed out, earning a smirk in return from her husband.

“Just had to prove a point. That’s all.”

Pulling off his now sweat soaked shirt, Jake sat down beside Sophie, who couldn’t help put trail her eyes down his chest. Cracking open a beer, Jake rested his arm firmly behind Sophie, leaving no room for Rooster’s own, and took a long sip.

“You call that chest hair, Rooster?” Jake joked, gesturing at the small patch on Rooster’s chest.

“Jake,” Sophie admonished, though there was barely any force behind it.

“I believe that’s checkmate,” Coyote told the other Daggers, who were snickering among themselves.

~~~~~

After they ate lunch, the Daggers put together most of the other major pieces of furniture and at least got it semi-set up before the Daggers left for the day. Leila and Tyler were tuckered out very quickly and were in bed by eight, sound asleep. Tyler was even snoring. And that left Jake and Sophie alone for a few quiet moments.

“I think this is the last thing today,” Sophie decided as she tucked the sheets under their mattress. “We’ll get the rest of the important stuff situated tomorrow. Maybe Leila and Tyler’s rooms. And then I’ll just unpack when I have a moment.”

“Yeah, I don’t think we need to call in the calvary again,” Jake stated, carrying over the comforter.

Sophie looked up at Jake through her eyelashes as she slowly reached over to help Jake unfold the blanket. She paused in thought for a moment as she tucked the edge of the blanket into the space between the mattress and the frame before turning to Jake.

“Are you feeling okay, Jake?”

“A little tired. But otherwise, fine. Why?” he asked, folding the comforter at the top of the bed.

“You were showing off at lunch.”

“I was just trying to prove a point to Tyler, that’s all,” he replied, avoiding the real question there.

“So, it had nothing to do with Rooster then?” Sophie smiled to herself when she felt Jake’s gaze on her as she turned to pull out the pillow from the box. “You know, you only pull out that pushups routine when you’re feeling insecure.” Sophie fluffed a pillow before turning to Jake. “And Rooster wasn’t even slightly subtle.”

“I’ll beat his ass the next time I see him.”

“I’m assuming that it was some kind of dare,” Sophie returned, brushing off the entire interaction. “I’m not worried about it.” She tossed the pillows to Jake, who set them on the bed in order. Folding up the cardboard box, Sophie shot Jake a small smile as she slipped out the door of the bedroom. “And you shouldn’t be either.”

Jake looked up from the pillows, watching Sophie walk off for a silent moment before letting out a breath to center himself. Maybe he did lose his shit a little bit out there. But, in all honesty, he could have been far worse given the game that dumbass Rooster was playing. Running a hand down his face, Jake let out another breath and turned for the bathroom.

Sophie returned to the bedroom after tossing the cardboard box into the pile and turning off all of the lights. She paused when she heard the shower running and Jake’s suitcase open on the floor. Reaching behind her, Sophie closed the door to their bedroom and walked over to the bathroom door.

Jake let the hot water roll down his back and soak his hair. Running a hand through his hair, Jake spun around when the shower door opened, letting in a rush of cold air. Sophie stepped inside the shower as she locked eyes with Jake. Shutting the shower door behind her, Sophie took a step closer to Jake, letting the warm water spray hit her.

There was a beat longer of silent, burning staring between them, before Jake leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Sophie’s lips. She quickly returned it, reaching up to cup his cheeks. Jake pulled her flush against him, brushing his hands down her spine. Pulling away for a moment, Jake rested his forehead against her own and stared into her eyes once more.

“The kids are asleep, right?” Jake asked softly.

“Completely knocked out,” Sophie assured him.

“Good,” Jake replied, brushing his thumb over her cheek. Reaching down, he grabbed the back of her thigh and hoisted her right leg around his waist, causing Sophie to grab his shoulder for stability. “Wouldn’t want them to walk in on this.”

Prologue Part 1 Part 3

Tags (Just People Who Asked for More/Part 2):

@ahopelessromanticwritersworld @whoeverineedtobe @dingochef @mayhemmanaged @xkylo--renx

#top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #top gun #tgm #tgm fanfiction #jake seresin fic #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x oc #hangman fic #hangman x oc #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x oc #top gun hangman

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potchi-fics · 6 months

Text

Sundo | part two of 8 ball

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

sundô. imagine being so tired from studying, from using your brain so much that you just feel like collapsing. but you remember that at the end of the day, someone's waiting-- waiting for you. a simple gesture yet it makes you feel so many things all at once: happiness, excitement, comfort... and wonder.

NOTE: sundo means to fetch someone from somewhere.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Y/n leans back on the chair she has been sitting on for hours now. she checks her phone and she sees that it's 5:59 pm. she got too busy with academic work, she always wants to finish her projects as soon as possible because she doesn't like procrastinating.

she sighs through her nose, holding the bridge of her nose, she's so tired. even her ears hurt from the hours of wearing her headphones.

and of course, her friends are studying alongside with her... but they all fell asleep. thankfully, though, they got their work done.

"wake up," she gently shakes Aiki, who whined and shooed her away. she moved on to Monika who woke up with just a nudge. "Noze, it's almost time to go home."

"god," Noze cracks her back, "my whole body hurts. good thing we don't have any classes for two days."

"you're goddamn right about that. somebody wake Aiki up." Monika groans out in defeat.

Y/n tries again, "Aiks, c'mon, it's time to go home."

the three struggled to contain their laughter once they see Aiki's state: drool all over her cheek and table, and the thousand-yard stare.

"aw gross, wipe your face, Aiks." Noze hands her wet wipes.

Y/n struggled even more when Monika showed her the picture she took of Aiki when she woke her up. she looks like a toddler who just woke up.

"is it time to go home? what time is it?" Aiki groggily asks.

she was about to tell her when something caught her eye; a text message from Bada. it read:

"what time's ur dismissal?"

it was sent four minutes ago. she texts back:

"6:30, whyy?"

she didn't get to put down her phone because it buzzed. it's a reply from her:

"i'll come and fetch u. where r u?"

Y/n's weirdly excited about this? and also a tiny bit nervous? nevertheless, she replied:

"library with my friendsss."

and she waits. she can't even stay still, and the other notice it.

"jesus, can you stop with the pen clicking?" Monika complains.

Y/n mutters out a soft sorry.

Noze looks at her with a funny expression, "who were you texting?"

a beat passes before she says Bada's name.

the trio have their what-the-hell faces on. before she could defend herself, they already started teasing her relentlessly; saying things like she's excited to see Bada, or that they were gonna go on a date.

"guys," she starts, "it's not a date and why would i be nervous? it's Bada." she rolls her eyes. "i could squeeze that punk easily."

but she is nervous. she doesn't know why. is it because of what happened at that billiards place? why did she even do that in the first place.

time seems to really pass by because six-thirty comes and they start tidying their place. making silent conversation. they come out of the library and see someone squatted down.

it's her.

Y/n thinks-- god, she's so handsome and pretty, she's not even doing anything. she malfunctions because she did not just think that? that is so not Y/n coded of her, she adds.

her friend's loud voice caught their attention, "hey, Bada!"

"yo," Bada stands up, looking at Y/n. "are you guys done? can i steal her away from you now?"

Y/n could only roll her eyes, "what do you mean by steal me away? as if i would let myself be taken."

"so grumpy," Bada tease, "careful now, you look like that one angry bird."

"well, in that case, i'm a pretty angry bird." she retaliates.

her enemy pats her head, "sure, sure.. let's go. bye guys!"

the trio shakes their head, even walking, the two seems to fight. they witness how Bada tries to carry Y/n's things but she wouldn't let her. however, eventually, Y/n gives in and gives Bada her things.

bada opens her car door for Y/n, receiving a soft thank you from the girl. she puts the things in the backseat and finally enters the drivers seat.

"you hungry?" she asks.

Y/n nods, too tired to talk. she closes her eyes and feel the car start up, she assumes that Bada knows a place.

during the car ride, comfortable silence envelops the pair. it continues that way not until she feels a hand on her thigh. Y/n opens her eyes and her gaze fell on the hand that is on her thigh.

Bada couldn't resist-- she caresses her thigh, rubbing circles on it, even slightly moving it up. she notices that the girl's breath is uneven. she thinks about removing it when a hand stops her.

the tension, even before what happened at the pool table, got so much thicker. it's so thick that they feel like suffocating.

sadly, they arrive at the place they're gonna eat at.

"c'mon, we're here." Bada parks the car.

they both thought the same thing: pussy blocker.

they go in the restaurant and order, wherein Bada insists that she treats her. of course, Y/n tries to pay for her own food but Bada is stubborn gal.

they take a sit once they get their order and start eating. surprisingly, their conversation is easy-going.

"so, what made you fetch me today? missed me that much?" Y/n asks with her mouth full of food.

Bada chuckles at the cute sight, "you're delusional. i just wanted to annoy you."

"oh, trust me," she answers in a grumble, "you're annoying me so much."

"is that why we're enemies?" Bada cackles out. "'cus i'm annoying? you didn't find me annoying back in middle school, though."

yes. they're childhood friends- err, childhood enemies. they're one of those typical rivals where they grew up together. they just haven't told anyone, but not because they don't want to, but because it wasn't just brought up until now.

she pouts out, "i wouldn't say enemies.. but yeah."

a loud laughs emits from the person in front of her again, can't believe the reason.

"stop laughing," Y/n gigges, "it's not funny. i'm just glad i don't have any classes, i'm so tired. and hungry."

Bada watches her with a smile, even though the girl in front of her is stuffing her face with food-- Bada still thinks that she's beautiful.

"stop ogling at me, i know i'm pretty and all," she flutters her eyelashes at her, "are you falling in love with me?"

"you sound so stupid." this time, it was Bada's turn to roll her eyes. "say, you wanna come over to my house after this?"

Y/n makes a playful shock face, "oh my? and you say you're not falling in love with me? but yes."

Bada feels like she's on cloud nine. what is wrong with her?

they finish their meal and she checks the time. it's seven-forty. they exit the place and Y/n complains about being so bloated now. to which Bada teased her by saying that she's always bloated.

banter ensues, even all the way to Bada's house, they're still bickering like children.

time check: eight-twenty-three.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚

should i make the next part smut? or continue with fluff

૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა

#imagines #oneshots #writing #bada lee #bada x reader #fanfic #female reader #fiction #swf 2 #swf2 x reader #street woman fighter 2 #bada lee x reader #lee bada #team bebe #street woman fighter x reader

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fortheloveofwonderland · 14 days

Text

Midnight | Chapter 19 | SR

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N - a slight jump forward in time here. For the sake of this, Spencer’s mom lives back in Vegas.

Chapter Summary - after finding a new place to settle down, things finally seem like they might be looking up for you and Spencer. Meanwhile Luke refuses to rest while he continues searching for you.

Pairing - unsub! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | very eventual happy ending

Warnings - cleaning up a crime scene, burying bodies, fingering, handjob, swearing, vomit, brief mention of depression, penetrative, unprotected sex, lying.

WC - 5.7k

Chapter 19 - Stitch Me Up

Two Months Later

The desert city of Twentynine Palms, California was located in the Mojave Desert and sat on the northern side of the Joshua Tree National Park and promoted the motto “a beautiful desert oasis”.

It wasn’t small but it was huge either, with a population of around twenty five thousand, making it a great place for two people to hide in plain sight. And given its desert location, the temperature this time of year was over one hundred and five, a stark contrast from tiny little Colorado mountain towns.

Samuel and Violet Truman of Arizona had moved out west and rented themselves a little fully furnished three bed, single storey home on Chia Avenue in a quiet suburb of Twentynine Palms. They arrived two weeks ago after spending some six weeks travelling the states with their travel companions Jack and Lily Waters.

From the outside their home left a lot to be desired, with its rickety metal fence and lone palm tree in the sandy front yard. But the inside was so modern and sheek that the couple had signed a lease on the spot.

From the outside looking in, you and Spencer were the idyllic all American couple. And admittedly, from the inside you were also pretty damn happy.

Since fleeing Crested Butte in the middle of the night two months ago, things had changed dramatically. That night you’d waited until Luke had stopped patrolling your cabin before getting Mary’s body into the trunk of the Nissan. You’d scrubbed every single inch of the house until it was cleaner than when you’d arrived, tweezed the bullet out of the wall and filled in the hole left behind, before gathering all of your belongings and getting the hell out of dodge.

On the way out of town you had begged Spencer to make one last stop. He wanted to refuse, you could tell, but he was trying so hard to make you happy, to make up for the way he’d been treating you that he agreed and pulled the Nissan to a stop on the street outside of McGills.

It had been late and all the lights were off so you’d ducked down the side alley towards the door that led up to his apartment. You’d had no idea if he’d be there but you’d prayed with every fibre of your being that he would. And by some stroke of luck, he answered the door after you’d knocked twice.

“Rose,” he folded his arms across his chest and leant against the door jamb. “Or should I say, Y/N.”

“I heard Luke spoke to you.” You gnawed on your lip as Jesse regarded you like the stranger you were.

“He did. I have to say, I did not expect you to be FBI.”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “It’s a long story. I just wanted to come by and apologise for everything. I probably really shouldn’t have let myself follow you out of the Nickel that night.”

“I’m glad you did.” He nodded, dropping his arms to his sides. “Even though it didn’t work out between us, it at the very least got me out of my slump. Maybe now I can actually put myself out there again, you know? Now I’ve gotten over that first hurdle.”

“You’re going to make some woman very happy someday.” You smiled, subconsciously taking a step closer.

“It’s a shame it couldn’t have been you.” He shrugged wistfully.

You swallowed thickly, glancing down the alley and noting that you couldn’t see the Nissan from this position, or more importantly, its occupant couldn’t see you. You stepped even closer to Jesse and cupped his cheek.

“In another life maybe.” You whispered. “I’m leaving town.”

“I figured as much.” He nodded as your hand wandered down from his face to bicep. “You could stay, you know? With me. You don’t have to go just because he wants you to.”

“You have no idea how tempting that is. But I can’t.”

“I know.” He sighed, suddenly gripping the back of your neck. “I’m going to miss you.”

Suddenly he’d slammed his lips against yours in a kiss so passionate your legs had buckled. If Spencer knew how you’d said goodbye to Jesse, he most likely would have gone back and killed him. If he’d known you’d let Jesse finger you in his doorway while you jerked him off in return, Spencer would have certainly murdered him and probably enjoyed it.

But clearly you had a better poker face than you realised as Spencer simply drove off as soon as you were back in the car. And on the drive the only thing you’d thought of were Jess’s last words to you.

“I wish I’d gotten a chance to love you, Y/N.”

But at some point you had to let that go.

Mary’s final resting place had been a hole in the ground in the Beaverhead-Deerlodge National Forest in Montana, almost eight hundred miles north of her hometown of Crested Butte. The Nissan met the same fate as Spencer’s Volvo a further five hundred and fifty miles east just outside of Medora, North Dakota.

Spencer purchased three pairs of bus tickets: one down to Texas, one out to Minnesota and one to Iowa, the latter being the ones you actually used. It took the better part of an entire day on a sweaty, smelly bus before you arrived in Cedar Rapids.

You checked into a cheap and dirty motel under the names of Jack and Lily Waters and spent almost the entire night having sex. Thoroughly exhausted in the morning, Spencer found a used car lot and using his Arizona licence in the name Samuel Truman, paid cash for a black Chevy Impala.

For the six weeks that followed you travelled up and down the country in much of a zigzag, alternating between your two pseudonyms, back and forth so the BAU would never find you. You spent six weeks in multiple different cheap motels, fucking like rabbits every step of the way.

You’d never felt so intrinsically linked to someone the way you did to Spencer in those six weeks. And it seemed he’d finally found his bliss as he didn’t kill once.

Eventually when enough time passed you’d choose to settle down in California. But unfortunately the mundane realities of life would ultimately be your downfall.

You stood up from the bathroom floor with a groan, wiping the back of your hand over your mouth and padding over to the sink. You stuck your mouth directly under the faucet and drank from it to wash away the taste of bile on your tongue.

You’d been throwing up on and off for some weeks now but you simply put it down to the residual stress of being on the run. You exhaled heavily before shuffling back out into the bedroom where Spencer still lay naked on top of the sheets.

“I’m mildly offended.” He offered you a wistful smile.

“I’m sorry.” You grumbled, flopping back to the bed next to him.

“It’s ok. Just never had anyone need to throw up whilst sucking my dick before.” He chuckled, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

“It’ll teach me not to eat hotdogs from a gas-and-go.” You sighed. “I can try again if you’re still in the mood?”

“After I just listened to you puke your guts up? I’m suddenly not very horny.” He pulled you closer so your head was resting on his chest. “But seriously, are you ok? You’ve been getting sick a lot lately.”

“Yeah I guess it’s stress or something. I’ll be fine.” You nuzzled against him, placing your hand flush against his chest over his heart.

You smiled as the ring caught the light and found yourself moving impossibly closer to Spencer. His grandmother's old ring had been upgraded, as had the one he wore, for newer silver matching bands inscribed on the inside with partners in crime.

One of your stops on your travels before you’d made your way to Twentynine Palms had been in Atlantic City at a seedy motel just off the main strip. After a few drinks one night as you walked by a little drive-in chapel, Spencer had a proposition for.

“What would you say I said we should get married?” He pulled you to a stop on the sidewalk.

“Married?” You glared at him.

“Right now. Partners in crime forever.” He grinned at you.

“You’re joking, right?” Your brows furrowed.

“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life. Before we get swallowed up entirely in the lives of Samuel and Violet, I think Spencer and Y/N need to do this one last thing.”

And really there had only been one answer to that. You and Spencer had been bound for life the moment you’d left DC with him, you were as good as married, so why not make it official?

If your old team were to ever find one last trace of Spencer Reid and Y/N Y/L/N it would be the signing of marriage licences in a little Atlantic City chapel.

Spencer purchased you the new rings as a surprise and that along with your rose gold heart necklace, were your most treasured possessions.

“You don’t need to be stressed, sweetheart. It’s over, we’re safe now. I’ll never let anything bad happen to you.” He cooed, kissing your head.

It really was amazing the difference a few months could make. Of course things weren’t ideal, you’d always be on the run, never able to return home but things with Spencer were as close to perfect as they could possibly be.

Since fleeing Butte he’d been wonderful, the Spencer you’d known was still in there somewhere. You may be on the run but as long as this was the Spencer you woke up to every morning, you didn’t mind at all.

But Spencer was wrong, things were far from over. At least you’d always have these moments to look back when everything came crumbling down. But for now, despite the stress within you, you knew Spencer was all you needed to feel whole. You and Spencer were two broken halves but maybe together you could patch each other up and finally feel complete.

***

Two days after Luke Alvez arrived back from Crested Butte he received a phone call from the diner owner's son.

Jesse McGill had informed him of the mysterious disappearance of the girl Mary, whom Luke had met at the diner, which was followed in quick succession by you and Spencer’s sudden departure from the town.

It really didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. But unfortunately for Luke it did take a genius to pull it off and Spencer was sure to leave behind no trail, no scrap of evidence. And two months later and Mary still hadn’t been found and the BAU had no leads on you and Spencer’s whereabouts. You’d well and truly outsmarted them.

In his spare time, which was very few and far between these days, he poured over the Duncan Green case file as well as images of the sparkling clean cabin you’d left behind in Butte in the hopes that maybe he’d missed something. He stayed late in the office every single night and looked for any reports of sightings of you and Spencer as Emily had officially registered you as missing persons. He scrolled through police databases for any other occurrences that might point to where the hell you were.

He’d discovered two bodies buried in woodlands across the country which were similar in MO to Green but with no pertinent links between them, the BAU couldn’t investigate.

Lyle Smith was found in a shallow grave with his throat cut in the Hoosier National Forest just north of Jasper, Indiana. The body of Brett Carlisle from Wichita, Kansas was found in the Rita Blanca National Grasslands in Texas. Both bodies had been subject to the elements but deemed to have been dead since before that little Nissan was picked up on Elk Avenue for the first time. So maybe Spencer had been on some kind spree since he’d left DC.

And that brought him onto the discovery of the burnt out Nissan, near identical to how they’d found Spencer’s Volvo. They’d spent three days searching the area surrounding where the vehicle was found for Mary’s body only to come up short. Of course, Spencer wasn’t stupid, he wouldn’t dispose of a body anywhere near the car.

The only lead Luke had really had in the last two months was the filing of a marriage licence in the state of New Jersey. It was like a big middle finger in his face, clearly you’d both wanted him to find it. He’d driven to Atlantic City on one of his rare days off and canvassed the area near the wedding chapels, showing your photographs to anyone who would look. But he knew you’d be long gone.

If he could just find a way to connect any of these crimes to Spencer, or to find Mary’s body then maybe he could convince you to come home. He was sure you had nothing to do with any of this and if had solid proof that Spencer had murdered one of these people maybe it could be his way to form a wedge between the two of you. No matter what happened, Luke would never stop trying to protect you.

But god if it wasn’t taking its toll on him.

Luke Alvez was, in no uncertain terms, coming apart at the seams. The stitching holding him together had been removed thread by thread and at this point there was barely anything holding him together. Emily had expressed her concerns for his mental health, suggesting he seek medical help for what she had dubbed a depressive spiral.

His response had been simply, “you’d be depressed too if your best friend had married a murderer” which had pretty much shut down the conversation.

He knew he was devolving, he’d seen it hundred of times before. His apartment was a mess of case files, innocuous accounts of possible sightings and potential victims of Spencer. He barely slept, running mostly on coffee and energy bars. He was almost certain he was getting an ulcer.

But he wouldn’t let this go. He couldn’t shake the feeling that you weren’t safe and he couldn’t rest until he knew you were. Maybe this obsession would eventually kill him, but it would be worth it to be able to free you from the clutches of Spencer Reid.

***

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” You scurried back to the car with your best apologetic smile as you slid into the passenger’s seat and Spencer pulled a face.

“Did you puke again?” He frowned at you.

“No.” You shook your head.

“You were peeing again? You went when we got here.” He started the engine.

You weren’t exactly sure where you were headed, Spencer had simply told you that you were going out for the day and with nothing better to do you’d followed along. You were somewhere along the I-15 heading north about two hours away from Twentynine Palms, at a gas station. You’d only stopped long enough for Spencer to fill up the Chevy and have a coffee and you’d used the bathroom twice, which was very unlike you.

“I know, I think I drank too much coffee this morning.” You mused, putting on your seatbelt.

“You always drink too much coffee, but that’s an entirely different conversation.” He chuckled, putting the car in reverse and pulling out of the space.

As he merged back onto the interstate you twirled your wedding band around your finger, watching the way his caught the sunlight through the windscreen and you smiled to yourself.

“Where are we going, Spence? Not that I don’t like a spontaneous road trip but I thought we’d settled now? Driving long distances usually only equals bad things where we’re concerned.” You rolled your bottom lip between your teeth.

Spencer removed one hand from the wheel and brought it to rest on your knee while he smiled at you softly.

“We’re going to see my mom.” He spoke happily.

“Oh.” You nodded with a soft laugh. “Ok, good. You had me worried for a second.”

“I told you sweetheart, you don’t need to worry about anything. Not anymore.” He gave your leg a squeeze, the adrenaline pulsing through his veins.

His bloodlust had been sated for the past two months but now it had come back with avengence. He needed to kill and he had a particular target in mind who he was sure would satisfy his urges more so than any that had come before.

But it was better to keep you in the dark. You were so happy lately and Spencer loved it when you were happy. He’d use visiting his mom as a distraction and he’d sneak off and extract his plan solo. You’d never need to know and your blissful little bubble didn’t need to be popped.

It was a win-win.

He ran over his plan in his head as he drove, making sure he had all the little details secure in his mind. There was no margin for error here, this had to be the perfect kill.

The two of you mostly stayed silent until he’d made it about another half hour up the interstate and you huffed out a loud breath.

“Goddamnit,” you grumbled. “I need to pee again.”

***

Visiting Spencer’s mom had been pretty safe for the two of you given that if anyone ever asked her if you’d been here, she most likely wouldn’t remember. You spent a few hours with her upon your arrival in Vegas before Spencer took you for a three course meal at the very expensive Capital Grille on Las Vegas strip.

After he walked you down to Caesars Palace in which you expected to be having drinks and were extremely surprised when Spencer strolled up to the reception desk stating he had a room reserved under his other alias Jack Waters.

A bellboy led you up to one of the top floors and showed you to the Palace Premium Suite. You stood in the middle of the grand living room while Spencer tipped the young man and once the door was closed and the two of you were alone, he sidled up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“You like it?” He spoke as he kissed the side of your face.

“Wh-what is happening?” You laughed, still in awe. “What did I do to deserve this?”

“Consider it a belated, one night honeymoon.” His lips trailed down your neck. “And I guess just a small token of my gratitude for everything you’ve done for me. I know I have a hard time saying how I feel but I love you so fucking much and I am the luckiest man in the world to call you my wife.”

“Spencer,” you sighed happily in your arms. “I love you too. And I’m the lucky one.”

“Ok, now we’ve got that out of the way, tell me Mrs Reid, where would you like me to fuck you first?”

You moaned at his words, turning yourself around in his arms and attaching your lips together.

“What are my options?” You spoke against his lips, feeling his dick growing hard as he pressed into you.

“Well there are multiple couches, a four poster king sized bed, a pretty decadent bathtub, or there’s my personal favourite option…” his hands wandered under the hem of your shirt and over your back.

“Which is?” You took hold of his lapels, tearing your lips away from his so you could look at him.

His pupils were already blown out with his lust, his lip quirked up into a sinful smirk.

“We’re way up high, with some of the best views of Vegas.” He tugged your shirt up, quickly getting it over your head and tossing it aside. He took hold of your biceps and turned you back around to face the huge floor to ceiling windows overlooking the strip, his lips moving back to your ear. “My choice would be to fuck you up against the window. But that’s just me.”

He was already leading you towards the windows, lips sucking the flesh of your neck, his free reaching between your bodies and unhooking your bra. He quickly got it off your arms and dropped it on the floor, and you made no protest when he pushed your front up against the window. You hissed slightly at the cool glass as it touched your nipples and Spencer smiled to himself.

It was all a part of his plan. He would render you dumb with sex then run you an indulgent bubble bath with a large glass of wine to soothe your post-coital muscles. Then he’d tell you he’d left something at his mother's facility which was purposefully on the other side of town to buy him some time.

He’d tell you he hopefully wouldn’t be gone long, but traffic on the strip at night could be a nightmare and he’d be back as soon as possible. He’d inform you of the bar and the spa downstairs if you wanted to use either while he was gone.

And while you were preoccupied having a drink or getting a massage or whatever, he would seek out his target, slice his throat and be back before you knew it, with any luck rejuvenated enough for round two.

He continued kissing your neck while he started unbuttoning your pants and you helped him wiggle them down your legs and kick them off. You could see Spencer in the reflection in the window start to work on the buttons of his shirt. You caught his eye and he smiled at you.

He shucked his shirt off and pressed his bare chest against your back, caging you against the window with his hips, his hard cock pressing into your back. His lips moved back to your neck and worked on sucking deep bruises into your flesh whilst one hand wandered over your stomach and quickly dipped inside your panties.

You closed your eyes as two fingers were soon pressing inside of you, his thumb massaging your clit. You rolled your ass backwards, grinding against his erection but you wobbled a little on your legs at the feeling of his fingers inside you.

With your eyes closed your mind wandered of its own accord. There were times when you and Spencer were together that you found yourself thinking of Jesse, most specifically the last time you’d seen him when he’d fingered you in his doorway.

It was entirely involuntary, you certainly didn’t mean to think about him and his strong tattooed arms and the large vein in his forearm that pulsed when his fingers were inside of you. You didn’t mean to imagine his wiry beard scratching your face as he kissed you. And you most definitely didn’t mean to picture him fucking you whilst Spencer was. Sometimes it just happened.

Spencer was by no means an idiot and he knew you still thought about GI Mountain Man. He knew exactly what you looked like post orgasm and he’d known what the two of you had been doing when you’d said goodbye to him, even if you’d tried hard to hide it. There had been three, maybe four times when you’d said his name under your breath when he was fucking you but you’d never seemed to notice.

Of course it bothered him, a part of him wanted to drive back to Butte and kill Jesse just to make himself feel better. But he was trying to be better for you and so he ignored the occasional slip of the tongue.

Your hand snaked around his wrist, holding him firmly in place in your panties. He knew you were thinking about Jesse now, call it intuition, or gut instinct, but whatever it was Spencer knew.

He used his free hand to relieve himself from his pants and move them down his thighs enough so they were out of his way. He was almost positive that Jesse wasn’t as big as him, couldn’t fill you up the way he could.

In one swift move, he removed his fingers from inside of you and hurriedly plunged his cock between your legs, causing you to gasp and fall flat against the window. Your eyes sprung open at the sudden intrusion and you made eye contact with him in the reflection.

“Jesus Christ, Spence.” You panted as he bottomed out. “A little warning next to him.”

He chose to ignore you, placing his hands flush on the glass either side of your head as he started thrusting into you. He kept eye contact through the glass, not letting you close your eyes for fear you would start thinking of Jesse again.

It’s not fair. I’ve done everything for her, I fucking married her and it’s still not enough. What makes him better than me? Why is he still on her mind?

He tried not to let his anger cloud his judgement and had to rein himself back from fucking you too hard. He forced himself to slow down, thrusting you languidly against the window. You moaned in sync with one another while the Strip below illuminated you both in its chaotic glow.

You kept your eyes on his in the reflection while he fucked you and all thoughts of Jesse left your head. When you were clenching around him, legs shaking from your impending orgasm, he took hold of your left hand and ran his fingers over your wedding band.

“You’re mine.” He mumbled, his face contorting as his own orgasm snuck up on him. “Mine. My partner in crime, my wife, my…fuck.”

He groaned the last word, head falling to your shoulder as he suddenly came inside of you. You whimpered as he filled you up, pushing you over the edge and your legs almost gave up with the force of your orgasm.

You fell back against Spencer’s chest, his arms holding you up right even though his own legs were shaking. As you fought to catch your breath he peeled you away from the window as he slid out of you and helped you over to the couch.

You collapsed onto it, panting heavily and pulling Spencer down with you. He laid his head on your chest and listened to the sound of your erratic heartbeat.

You laid like this for a while until you were both breathing at a normal rhythm and Spencer untangled himself from your arms and got to his feet. He tucked himself away and tugged his pants back up before buttoning them.

“I’m gonna run you a bubble bath.” He smiled softly down at you.

“You gonna join me in it?” You smiled back sleepily.

“Sadly not, I realised I left my wallet at Bennington.” He went to head towards the bathroom but he didn’t get far.

“You had your wallet at dinner.” You sat up, frowning at the back of his head.

Spencer froze in his tracks. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

“Uh,” he turned back to face you, quickly trying to think on his feet, which would be a lot easier if his head wasn’t still hazy from his orgasm. “Not my wallet, I meant the burner phone. I should go and get it.”

You scrutinised him for a moment but thankfully for him your own head was also bleary and wouldn’t allow you to think too much into it.

“Ok.” You shrugged, flopping back to the couch.

Spencer exhaled heavily, continuing on his way to the bathroom. He started the water, pouring in an ample amount of bubble bath and leaving the tub to fill.

“There’s a bar downstairs and a spa, even a casino. If you get bored with the bath and I’m not back, go nuts.” He spoke as headed back into the room, locating the bottle of red wine he’d had sent to the room before you arrived.

He made quick work of the cork and poured you a large glass before coming back over to the couch and dropping down next to you. He handed you the glass and you sat yourself up against the cushions again.

“Hmm I like honeymoons.” You smiled, bringing your glass to your lips and taking a small sip.

Moments later your face fell and you gagged, thrusting the glass back at Spencer before leaping from the couch and running as fast as your legs could carry you to the bathroom.

Spencer heard the toilet seat slam back against the cistern and then the distinctive sound of vomiting echoed around the room.

Realistically he was smart enough to figure out what was going on, as were you, but both of your heads were clouded by other thoughts and so you both missed the obvious.

Spencer padded back to the bathroom and found you on your knees, wiping your hand over your mouth. You looked up at him with large, sad eyes.

“The wine turned against me.” You whined. “Goddamn gas-and-go hotdogs.”

Spencer smiled sadly at you and slid to the floor next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as the bath continued to fill behind him.

“Are you going to be ok if I pop out?” Please god say yes, I need this, it has to be tonight.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. It’s passed again now, I guess I just won’t be drinking any wine tonight.” You sighed. “You go, do your thing.”

“As long as you’re sure.” Spencer pushed himself back to his feet and then held his hands out to help you up.

“Of course. Do you think you’ll be gone for long?”

“No idea, traffic at this time of night will probably be a pain, but I promise I’ll hurry.” He stroked your hair back from your face.

“Ok.” You nodded, lowering yourself to sit on the edge of the tub. “Go, I’m fine. I can run a bath.”

“I won’t be long.” He went to kiss you but then thought better of it as your breath smelt like vomit. Instead he kissed his first and middle finger and then placed them on your lips making you chuckle.

Soon he was heading out of the room in search of his bag so he could change into jeans and t-shirt. The weapons were in the Chevvy’s glovebox, ready for their next assignment.

He dressed quickly and got his shoes on, throwing on a hoodie before grabbing the car keys and heading to the door.

“Be safe, sweetheart.” He called as he reached for the handle.

“Love you.” You replied and it made his heart swell every time he heard you say that.

As he opened the door, his wedding ring caught his eye and he rolled his lip between his teeth. He forced open the door, ignoring the way his heart practically exploded when he looked at his ring. He had a job to focus on.

But the truth was, you were the only thing keeping him together. He was lost and you’d found him, taken him in and patched him up. His scars both mental and physical didn’t phase you, if anything you’d loved him harder because of them. You’d fixed him up in ways you’d never understand and he hoped he wasn’t making a huge mistake in what he was about to do.

He was fairly certain you’d never walk away from him, that nothing he could do could be worse than the things he’d already put you through. Because he was sure one day all that thread keeping him together would come unravelled and if he had no one there to stitch him back up again he would be torn so deeply there would be no repairing him. And god only knows how quickly a broken man would devolve.

No, it's no wonder I feel broken,

Are you the one to fix me up, patching up the work they done?

Try and sew me,

So thread the needle, tie it off, teach me how to trust someone.

Really hoping that you stay,

That you never walk away,

Every word I shouldn't say, I shouldn't say, I shouldn't say it.

Do you feel the stress in me,

Steady bursting at the seams?

You're the only one I need to make me complete, yeah.

Stitch me up, stitch me up, don't tear me apart,

I've been stuck in the rut, patched up in the dark.

Stitch me up, stitch me up, there's pins in my heart, oh,

Pardon all my precious scars.

No, it's no wonder you've been feeling,

Like a doll in lost and found, so mistreated, thrown around.

Who you kidding? (You kidding),

Every flaw and every fray, that's what makes you sexy to me.

Really hoping that I stay,

I could never walk away,

Every word we shouldn't say, we shouldn't say, we shouldn't say it.

Do you feel the stress in me,

Steady bursting at the seams?

You're the only one I need to make me complete, yeah.

Stitch me up, stitch me up, don't tear me apart,

I've been stuck in the rut, patched up in the dark.

Stitch me up, stitch me up, there's pins in my heart, oh,

Pardon all my precious scars.

Elegant and broken, tasteful, tattered clothing,

I guess we've been caught in the middle of love.

Motive through emotion, damaged but we're golden,

I guess we've been caught in the middle of love.

Elegant and broken, tasteful, tattered clothing,

I guess we've been caught in the middle of love.

Motive through emotion, damaged but we're golden,

I guess we've been caught in the middle of love.

Stitch me up, stitch me up, don't tear me apart,

I've been stuck in the rut, patched up in the dark.

Stitch me up, stitch me up, there's pins in my heart, oh,

Pardon all my precious scars.

Really hoping that you stay,

Pray you never walk away,

Pardon all my precious scars.

Stitch me up, stitch me up, there's pins in my heart,

Oh, pardon all my precious scars.

@bubblebuttwade @jay-2s-world @daddy-dotcom @nomajdetective

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem! reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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sailor-aviator · 7 months

Text

Don't Hang'em Til Noon: Chapter Two

Pairing: Jake "Hangman Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake "Hangman" Seresin is a notorious leader within the Dagger posse of the old western territories of the United States. You, a recently orphaned socialite from the eastern seaboard, find yourself swept off to live with your older brother who has set down roots in said western territory. Determined to to make the best of your situation, what will you do when said outlaw sets his sights on you?

Warnings: Language, Jake flirting, nothing else really.

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: So, I lied. Here's another update for you all. Feel like the quality might have dropped off a little halfway since I wrote the last half on my phone at work lol I'm not sure yet if I'll have anything to post tomorrow as I work weird hours, but here's hoping! As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated. My inbox is always open to chat. 18+ ONLY!! Find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator! Enjoy!

Series Masterlist || DPU Masterlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List

“Well, this is it,” Benjamin proclaimed proudly. You looked at the house before you. It was a large, two story home with freshly painted white walls and matching white picket fence surrounding the yard. A chimney was built on both sides of the house, and a giant porch hugged the front as well as the second floor. A barn sat further down the path that led to your new home, and a simple wooden fence stretched even further.

“It’s beautiful, Benji,” you started, “but how much land did you purchase?”

Benjamin rubbed his neck sheepishly. “About one thousand acres.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “One thousand acres? Benji!”

“Hear me out, Scout,” he pleaded. “The cattle we raise will bring in even more money. We can establish a legacy here!”

“We already had a legacy,” you muttered, and Benjamin fixed you with soft, pleading eyes. You sighed. “You don’t even know the first thing about raising cattle.”

He perked up. “Oh, Maverick said he’d teach me all I need to know. Even made suggestions on who to hire as ranch hands when the time comes. He’s the one that convinced me to seek out my fortunes.”

“Was he now?” you murmured, already plotting what you were going to say to the town’s founder when you met him.

“I know what you’re thinking,” said Benjamin, and you glanced up at him. “But this will be good for us, Scout. We’ll be a part of history and expanding our country. Making it better.”

You hummed, and he continued with a sigh. “The truth is, Scout, my firm isn’t making as much money as I had hoped out here. Ranching will help bolster our income until I can become more established in these parts.”

You sighed, knowing there wasn’t much you could say in argument. Instead, you turned back to look at the house, shadows growing darker as the sun finally disappeared below the horizon. “Let’s go then. I’m eager to see the new house.”

Benjamin practically skipped up to the house, holding the door open for you as you stepped inside. It was much grander than you were expecting. Wooden floors gave way to a grand staircase that turned into the next floor. You made your way through one of the archways and found yourself in the parlor. Your familiy’s furniture already decorate the room, and you brushed your fingers gently over the top of the grand piano in the corner. Continuing, you found yourself standing in a large kitchen, one of the fireplaces taking up a large portion of the far wall.

“If you’re hungry, I think Natasha left some stew for us,” Benjamin, striding over to where a pot hung above the small fire. You raised an eyebrow, barely containing your smirk.

“Does Natasha cook for you often?”

You saw a blush creep its way onto your brother’s face as he straightened up to look at you with a small pout. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

You chuckled and waved a hand dismissively. “I’m only teasing, Benji. But, no. I’m not hungry at the moment. I’d much rather get some rest after my long day of travel.”

Benjamin nodded and led you up the stairs. He stopped in front of the second door on the right, opening it and gesturing for you to step inside. Doing so, you saw your familiar pieces of furniture that you had shipped off weeks ago. Your hand mirror sat on your vanity, and your wardrobe door was opened to reveal your more practical, every day use dresses. You walked further into the room and up to the window. Peering out, you could faintly make out the barn and rolling desert in the sprawling darkness. If you looked harder, you could faintly see the outline of the distant mountains. Turning back to face your brother, you offered a smile.

“It’s lovely, Benji. Thank you.”

Benjamin returned your smile and gestured down the hall. “My room is two down if you need me for anything.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine for the evening. Go on,” you waved him off. “You need your sleep just as much as I do.

“Before I forget, Maverick has invited us to dinner with him and his wife, Penny, the night after next,” he said. You nodded, letting him know that you had heard.With one last smile, Benjamin closed the door behind him.

“Benji, have you gone shopping for supplies at all, or do you send poor Natasha out to do your tasks?” you cluckled impatiently, finding nothing but a stale loaf of bread in the pantry. You had managed to collect the eggs from the chicken coop earlier that morning, and that was all that made up you and your brother’s meager breakfast.

“I haven’t the time, Scout,” he mumbled, already gathering his things for the day. “Besides, you know I’m not much of a cook.”

“How you’ve survived this long, I’ll never understand,” you said with a roll of your eyes. Benjamin looked at you with a twinkle in his eye.

“Eye rolling is not becoming of a proper young lady,” he snickered. Scowling you made to whip him with the towel you held in your hand.

“Go, before you’re late,” you hollered as he rushed out the door. Sighing, you made a mental note to teach him at least some of the basics in the upcoming days. Turning, you marchd back into the pantry and looked at the empty shelves disdainfully with hand on your hips.

“Honestly,” you muttered, exasperated at how incompetent your brother seemed at doing the most basic of things. You made a list of things you would need in the upcoming days, and walked out to take another look at the house. As much as your brother could fumble on the small things, he did have an eye for home decor. There were very few pieces of furniture you wanted to move around across the whole house, and you made another mental note to let Benjamin know that evening when he returned.

Walking out the front door with a basket in hand for your supplies, your eyes were drawn to a small patch of the front yard that had been fenced off. How you hadn’t noticed it the night before was beyond you, and you chose to chalk it up to fatigue from your journey. You walked over and saw several gardening tools scattered along the ground. You realized this must have been the garden Benjamin had mentioned yesterday to you in his excitement.You added seeds to your list of supplies for the day.

You turned away from the garden and made sure to latch the gate to your front yard securely before strolling down the path into town.

Today was much like yesterday had been. People walking up and down the streets, shouting at one another in greeting, and children still running about. You wondered why they weren’t in school at this time of day. You resolved yourself to asking Maverick about it the next evening at dinner. Turning down on to the main street, you stepped onto the porch of the general store. Across the street at the saloon, you saw a group of men gathered by the enterance. One of them turned and saw you, and you supressed an eye roll when he lout out a long whistle.

“Hey there, darlin’!” he called out to you. He was handsome, you’d give him that. His dark skin glowed in the sunlight and you could make out his white smile from across the road. Strong muscles were hidden by his simple, white cotton shirt and beige wool pants. A hat covered his short, dark hair. Choosing to ignore the stranger, and by extension his four companions who had turned to look your way, you walked into the general store. the owner greeted you as you stepped into the spacious room that housed a multitude of goods from different places.

“Howdy, miss!” He chirped, leaning against the counter with a smile. He was older, dark skin weathered. “Haven’t seen you ‘round these parts before. The name’s Hondo.”

You returned his smile warmly. “A pleasure, Hondo. My name is y/n. My brother is Benjamin, perhaps you know him? He runs the firm just down the road.”

“Ah, yes!” He chuckled. “The lawyer from Baltimore. Well, miss, you’re in luck! I’ve just gotten back from Independence with new goods and wears! If you’re looking more in the ways of sugar and molasses, i’m afraid you’ll have to wait until my partner, Joel, arrives back in town. Should be any day now, in fact.”

“I see, and what is that you have today?” You inquired, taking in the multitudes of crates still scattered around the counter.

“Let’s see,” Hondo thought. “I got some salt and some fine new tools from St.Louis. I also managed to trade for some fresh produce down by Independence.”

“That sounds lovely,” you smiled as Hondo began showing you his wears.

You spent about a half hour picking out the best produce Hondo had to offer, making plans to return when his partner made it back into town.

“Hondo, I don’t suppose you have anything in the way of cooking wine?” You asked, placing your new wears into your basket. Hondo grimaced with a shake of his head.

“'Fraid not, miss.” He sighed, looking out past his door towards the tavern. “But Miss Penny should have somethin’ for you to use.”

“Maverick’s wife?” You asked, unable to keep the surprise out of your voice. Hondo nodded, a look if worry on his face.

“Penny runs the saloon here in town. Normally, I wouldn’t even suggest you go ‘round that place without someone accompanyin’ you, but everyone here knows not to mess with Miss Penny. You should be safe while she’s there.”

You handed Hondo the money you owed him, and gave him a grateful smile. “I’m sure I’ll be perfectly fine.”

“Just be careful who you talk to when you’re over there, ya hear?” He called after you as you moved to leave. “A lot of real unsavory types like to prey on pretty, littke things like you!”

“I will!” You called over your shoulder. You looked across the street to see the group of men from earlier had migrated down the porch over to, you assumed, their horses. Making sure they were safely distracted, you hurried your way across the road. Trotting up the steps, you made it to the door just as the group turned around to see you. Before they could say anything, however, you marched confidently into the saloon.

You weren’t sure what you had been expecting, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as you had thought, considering Hondo’s warning. The enterior looked a tad run down, but you supposed it had been in business for a while. It was clear that it was a beauty back in its debut. A piano was shoved against the far wall and several tables were scattered across the room with a few patrons nursing different liquids. A woman came out of a back room and spotted you. She was one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen. Dark hair framed a slender face, and bright eyes looked at you with a maternal warmth you hadn’t seen in quite a while.

“Hey there, sweetheart!” She called to you. “What is it that I can getcha?”

“Hi,” you smiled, walking closer to the counter where she leaned. You could feel the stares from the other patrons on your back, and you couldn’t help but stiffen.

“Don’t you worry, darlin’,” she started, casting a stern look across the room. “No one here’ll mess with you while I’m here. Name’s Penny.”

You held out your hand when you were close enough to the bar to reach her. “I’m y/n. It’s a pleasure.”

“You must be Benjamin’s sister. You two look so much alike, I don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner,” she laughed, the lines on her face crinkling. You couldn’t help but wonder if you would look as beautiful as she did when you were her age. She took your hand and gave it a tight squeeze.

“We get that quite a bit, actually,” you chuckled, dropping your hand back down to your side.

Penny’s smile grew wider. “So, how can I help you today?”

“I’m looking for some cooking wine. Hondo mentioned you might be able to help me find some.”

“Cooking wine, huh?” She chewed her lip thoughtfully. After a moment, she nodded, turning to head back into the back room. “Yeah, I think I just got some new bottles in, actually.”

You waited while she disappeared through the door. You heard the group of men outside on the porch, and it sounded like they had moved back towards the entrance. You let out a heavy sigh, realizing that you wouldn’t be able to avoid them forever. You took a closer look at the saloon. A set of stairs led up to a second floor that must double as an inn of sorts. Your brother had told you that's where he stayed while your home was being built.

“The townsfolk here are all kind as saints here, Scout,” he had written to you in one of his many letters. He hadn’t been wrong, well, save for one person. You frowned at the memory of the tall blond and his debonair smile. The outlaw probably wooed many girls with those good looks and charming words. You would not be fooled.

At that moment, Penny appeared back around the corner with two bottles of wine and another warm smile. You took the bottles from her gratefully, and slipped them into your basket.

“How much do I owe you?” you ask, but Penny shakes her head.

“No charge,” she says. “Call it a ‘welcome to town’ gift.”

“Thank you,” you respond. You hear the group outside laugh, and you can’t stop the slight frown from etching itself onto your face. Penny notices, and offered a sympathetic smile.

“Those boys may be loud and rowdy,” she begins, “but they’re harmless. I promise. Just walk out of here with your head held high, and if they start to give you trouble, you call for me. I’ll knock their heads together.”

You nodded your head. You made your way back to the swinging doors, but stopped just shy. You willed your nerves to settle, and straightening your shoulders, you marched as confidently as you could out of the saloon.

The men were all gathered around the steps, and their conversation stopped when you stepped out. You could see them all more clearly now, and to your dismay, they were all unfairly handsome.

“Hey there again, darlin’,” grinned the man from before. He leaned in closer to you with grin. “Name’s Javy. What’s yours?”

“Coyote, you asshole,” snapped the man to his left. “Tell her our names, too!”

Javy—Coyote—rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath that you didn’t catch.

“These here are my compadres, Bradley, Bob, Mickey, and Reuben,” he said, gesturing to each man as he said their name. He turned back to you with a smirk. “Now what about yours?”

At that moment, the saloon doors swung open, and a familiar blond strolled out with a hard set look on his face. His eyes darted from the group of men before you down to yours, and his grumpy expression melted into a lascivious smirk.

“Did you get it?” Asked the man off to your right, Bradley. Jake spared him a glance before returning his eyes to you.

“‘Course I did, Rooster,” he replied, walking closer to you. You gripped your basket harder and fixed him with a glare. “Fancy seeing you here, Scout.”

Rooster? You realized now that the Dagger Posse is who stood before you, and you suddenly found yourself feeling weary.

“Mr. Seresin,” you replied curtly, turning his smirk into a full blown grin.

“C’mon now, Scout. I thought we decided you’d call me Jake?”

“I don’t recall that being how the conversation went,” you sniffed. Navy cleared his throat from where he stood from behind you. You both looked over to find him and the rest of the squad grinning. Well, Bradley was smirking. The others were grinning.

“Is this the little spitfire you were goin’ on and and on about last night, Hangman?” Bradley-Rooster-asked, humor evident in his voice. You glanced over at Jake who had a dusting of pink spreading across his cheeks. Ignoring his friends, he looked back at you, some of his bravado returning.

“Ignore my friends,” he said, smile returning. “They don't know when to shut up.”

You hummed, “I could say the same thing about you.”

You heard a couple of snickers from behind you, and Jake cast a glare over your shoulder. Looking back at you, he continued, “Now, sugar. That wasn’t very nice. I’ve been plenty nice to you.”

You let out a noise of derision. “You and I must have very different definitions of the word ‘nice,’ Mr. Seresin.”

“If you let me,” he smirked, leaning closer so that his breath fanned over your face. Your eyes widened and your heart stopped for a brief moment at his proximity. “I could show you all the ways I can be nice.”

You didn’t respond for a moment, lost in the emeralds of his eyes. Blinking, you murmured, “Not a chance.”

You turned to the group behind you, offering them a tight lipped smile. “It was a pleasure to meet you all.”

“I have a feeling we’ll be seeing a lot more of you in the near future, sweetheart,” grinned Javy.

“Yes, well,” you smiled politely, “let’s hope not.”

You pushed past them and began making your way down the road. A hand gripped your elbow, spinning you back around so that you crashed into a solid chest of muscle. Looking up, stunned, you were once again in close proximity of Jake Seresin.

“Let me give you a ride home,” he offered, gesturing back at Whiskey. You shook your head, placing a hand on his chest to try and put some kind of barrier between the two of you. Jake took your hand in his, squeezing it tight.

“That's not necessary,” you breathed. “I live just down the road.”

“Then let me walk you,” he pushed.

“Down the street?” You snorted. Jake grinned, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb.

“A lot could happen between now and when you get home.”

“Goodbye, Jake,” you said with a pointed look, pulling away from him. You tried not to frown at how cold you felt without his presence next to you. You turned to walk away.

“I’ll wear you down one day, sugar! You’ll be in love with me before you know it,” He calls after you. You stop in your tracks, whirling around to fix him with your iciest glare.

“I am not something to be conquered,” you hissed. Jake stared at you for a long minute, a different kind of smile creeped onto his face. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have said this one was almost…affectionate.

“I don’t expect you to be,” he said finally, giving you a two finger salute. “I’ll be seeing you soon, Scout.”

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