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schoute · 2 months ago

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Nobody look at me I'm posting self-indulgent oc x canon art and fic (under the cut) 🙈

Warnings: NSFW THERE'S COCK TALK and canon typical violence so unless you're an adult don't click.

A swirl of fragrant smoke whirled around Crocodile's head as he exhaled with a hard sigh.

What had started out like any other day had quickly devolved into irritating chaos.

It wasn't the first time the Revolutionary Army had sought him out, keen on trying to get their hands on his imported weapons. In fact, it was the second time, most recently, that they'd tried.

The second time she had tried.

Peachy hair danced across his mind, with her frilly shorts and lilting chuckle, and Crocodile bit down hard on his cigar. It was the second time Kerry Corduroy had tried to steal from him.

He wasn't a forgiving man, and the first time she'd tried to raid his weapons supplies with a plucky little crew of Revolutionaries he'd sent her hobbling back to her ship with a gouge from his hook in her thigh.

A blast in the distance rattled the crystal ashtray on his desk, and Crocodile's hooked arm twitched reflexively, Kerry's toned, bloody thigh floating through his memory.

He'd have to ensure that the punishment he gave her this time made his intentions abundantly clear; no one stole from Crocodile.

Another, closer blast sent his matching crystal decanter careening to the ground with a crash sending crystal and his favorite scotch in every direction of his office floor. Crocodile clenched his fist; he'd make Kerry lick every drop of that expensive scotch off the floor, glass shards be damned. He'd twist a hand into the peachy waves at the nape of her neck, kick her feet from under her until she was on her knees in front of him--

His cock suddenly gave an interested throb and Crocodile grunted, annoyed that the pretty little revolutionary thorn in his side was making him hard while she ran rampant around his warehouse destroying his things and attempting, once again, to rob him.

What annoyed him the most, however, was that he'd allowed himself to indulge in these fantasies of her even before this moment. After he'd left her marred and hobbling out of his office he'd thought about Kerry; the way she'd swaggered all hips into his office, confidently placing a boot on his chest while he'd been lounging on the chaise.

She was stupid for even trying to use intimidation tactics on him, and he'd laughed in her face for it; but Kerry had simply smiled in return--an annoyingly charming smile--all while digging the heel of her boot harder into his chest, daring to say, ‘I’m taking your shit, handsome’.

He'd wanted to wipe that grin off her face right then, it would have been easy to kill her, and for a moment Crocodile considered it. But he wasn't interested in picking a fight with the Revolutionary Army, nor was he interested in them having his weapons; so he arrived at a compromise.

That's when he'd sunk his hook into her thigh, pulling her closer with whispered promises that if she came here again, it'd be the last thing she did. A conveniently timed intervention from some other Revolutionary Army members had prevented their conversation from continuing, but hadn't stopped Kerry's pale eyes from meeting his. Even with his hook buried into her thigh she hadn't lifted her boot from his chest or screamed for him to stop, and it was the intensity of her gaze that had first gotten his mind into this mess over the next few weeks.

He replayed that moment in his mind, absently rubbing the spot on his chest where her heel had been; except when he replayed that moment in his mind alone in bed at night he imagined what could have happened if they hadn't been interrupted. He imagined the shit-eating grin on Kerry's face pressed into the fine silk pillow of his chaise as he bent her over, smoothing a hand over her ridiculous frilled shorts before slapping her ass. He imagined how she'd sound, gasping and whimpering under his touch, how she'd beg for more and how he'd willingly give it to her; if she could behave.

It was those thoughts of Ms. Kerry Corduroy that frustrated him to no end, and that were making him hard even now as she stupidly returned to try and steal from him again.

BANG

The door to his office flew open, and Crocodile turned with a glare to see who was interrupting him when there were Revolutionaries to deal with outside.

Those pale eyes he'd been imaging moments ago locked into his.

Standing in the doorway to his office was his brazen little Revolutionary; peachy waves wild under her brimmed hat, and that same irritatingly attractive smirk he'd been fantasizing about. His eyes fell to her thigh, just below the teasing ruffles of her shorts, and he couldn't help but grin.

“That’s healing nicely,” he nodded nonchalantly to the starburst shaped scar decorating her inner thigh. “I should give you one on the other side to match.”

Kerry huffed and popped her hip. “I'd like to see you try, handsome.”

He wouldn't even have to try. Within the blink of an eye Crocodile could have his hook latched into any damn part of her he pleased, wrenching her closer while using his devil fruit powers to suck the very life out of her then and there…

As fate would have it, death wouldn't be in the cards for Ms. Corduroy today, he decided. It would be so much more satisfying watching her atone in any way he saw fit for all the trouble and destruction she'd caused him.

Sand drifted from his body and twisted around Kerry's legs, manipulating her into facing away from him. With an easy glide of the same sand he was on her, using his hand to pin and twist her wrist to her back, the combination of his height and strength along with his devil fruit powers easily pressed her into the wall of his office. An enticing gasp left her lips as the pressure of his body collided with hers, and Crocodile's cock gave another untimely throb.

“Whatcha got there,” Kerry drawled, with a wriggle of her hips. “Is that a black market gun in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?”

Crocodile grunted; Kerry’s wiggling hips were effectively grinding her perfect ass into his hard length and the sensation was enough to send exciting thrills through his body.

It pissed him off.

“Quiet,” he growled in her ear, and gave her twisted arm a cruel tug, enjoying the way she gasped and arched back against him. “Where’s your little rescue committee?”

Kerry struggled against his hold, but her expression remained the same; that smirk that haunted his fantasies and caused a frustrating mixture of anger and desire in his gut.

“Oh they'll be here,” she said, her words tight from the weight of his body crushing into her. “I just thought we could have some alone time first.”

Her tone was teasing and silky even when slightly strained, and that frustrated him too. He wanted to show her right now a better use for that smart mouth; once again imagining how she'd look on her knees in front of him, eagerly taking his cock in that impudent mouth…

“Stupid of you.” He said, and drew his hooked hand slowly along the length of her unscarred thigh, leaving a thin line of red in its wake. He paused at the crux of her thigh, directly across from where he'd marked the other side and pressed the tip harder into her flesh.

He could feel her shiver against him at his touch, and Crocodile bit down hard on his cigar to ground himself. Trying to force the scenes he'd been imagining between them out of his mind.

“I should kill you for showing up here again,” he snarled, and applied more pressure with his hook point against her thigh. “But that wouldn't teach you how to behave, would it?”

Kerry sucked in a sharp breath below him, and even with the shadow of her hat he could see the flush painted across her freckled cheeks.

“I'd like to see you try and make me, handsome.”

She repeated her teasing words from only moments ago and Crocodile grinned.

He would gladly take that challenge.

Another boom suddenly shook the walls of his office, blasting out a nearby window and causing himself and Kerry to stumble, trying to keep their balance.

The distraction was enough that Kerry had somehow managed to twist out of his hold, and Crocodile watched as she sprinted from his office.

He could easily stop her, he should stop her.

Then she paused, and Crocodile watched as she spun on a booted heel to face him.

With that infuriating smirk gracing her pretty pink lips she blew him a kiss before whirling around, sprinting again towards the exit.

Crocodile huffed, and smoke twisted around his head, dancing across his vision just like his little Revolutionary soldier had and he promised himself next time he saw her, he'd make good on his own promise to teach her exactly how to behave.

#one piece #one piece oc #oc x canon #one piece smut #kinda it's not really smut but it sure isn't wholesome #crocodile one piece #oc: Kerry Corduroy #scouty scribbles #scouty scrawls #I've never written croc so I gave him the good ol college try #cringe but I'm free etc etc #ship: cordudile 🤠🐊

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ninii-winchester · 5 months ago

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Unveiled Sorrows (Part 5)

Pairings : Dean Winchester X Reader, Sam Winchester X Reader (platonic), Dean Winchester x Lisa Braden (mentioned)

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: heavy angst, spoilers s1-s6, mentions of violence, foul language, brief mentions of pregnancy and childbirth.(no details).

A/n : This series follows canon plot line but some scenes might happen differently or be completely changed. Check the warnings for each part before continuing

A/n: For the purpose of this series, Sam came back with his soul. Gemma and Will Campbell are OCs.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

Bobby watched Dean drive away. He never imagined he'd do something like that. He turned to see y/n on the ground.

"No...no Sammy. Come back." She dug her fingers into the ground. "Please." She sobbed as she continued digging as if the cage would still be under the ground. She hoped by some miracle it would open up and give her best friend back.

"Y/n let go." Bobby tried prying her hands off the ground. "Let go God dammit your fingers are bleeding." He jerked her body upwards and dragged her off to his truck. He made her sit inside and grabbed her stuff from her car. He got into the driver's seat, and took off. After an hour of driving she calmed down.

"Hey! How come you're walking again? I mean not that it's bad but I'm curious." Y/n asked Bobby.

"I sold my soul to Crowley to find Death. He said he could give me anything so he gave me my legs back too."

"Crowley the demon? Gave you your legs back?"

"Strange world we live in." Bobby shrugged. Y/n give him a look. "What?"

"Are you stupid?"

"Excuse me?"

"You sold your soul to a demon? You're gonna have your ass dragged to hell you know that?"

"He said he's borrowing it."

"Wow Bobby, he said and you believed. Thats a demon. You can't trust demons." Bobby didn't say anything after that. Halfway through the drive Y/n called out Bobby's name. He glanced at her urging her to go on.

"I'm pregnant." She said making Bobby hit the brakes abruptly.

"Come again?"

"I'm pregnant."

"What?" He was shocked to the core at the revelation. She only stared ahead not looking him in the eye. "What the hell were you thinking confronting Lucifer? Are you mad? Did you have no regard for your life or that child's?" Bobby yelled as he started to drive again.

"I'm sorry I just couldn't sit back and watch." She whispered.

"Did you three plan this scheme 'kill Bobby of a heart attack'." He sighed and then he paused. "Who's the father?" He asked.

"Dean." She looked out of the window as the scenery passed.

"Figures. Did you tell him?" She shook her head 'no'. "Will you tell him?"

"Do you really think he wants anything to do with me after the way he left?" She snapped. Bobby stayed silent.

"I'm taking you to a hospital, we need to get you checked." Y/n nodded.

The two of them made their way back home after a long drive and a pit stop at the doctors. She was fine and the baby was healthy too. They gave her some prescription and told her to rest. Bobby had told her she'd be staying with him from now on and he won't take no for an answer. He cared for the three of them like their own. Now with Sam being dead and Dean being God knows where he'd like to keep her here safe. Ever more now that she's pregnant.

"I'm telling you, you should tell Dean. He deserves to know."

"Dean didn't give two shits before walking away from us Bobby, we've known him for years. Do you think he'd care for a bastard child like that?" Y/n retorted.

"Watch your language, young lady. That's my grandchild you're talking about." Bobby scolded her. Ofcourse he thinks of Y/n as the daughter her never had.

"Well news flash Bobby this ain't no love child." Bobby rolled his eyes at her comment.

"I'm sure he'd-"

"You know what actually? I'm sure he would want to know but I don't want to tell him. Walking out was his decision and not telling him about this is my decision." Y/n said walking away.

It had been two months since Sam died and Dean left. Y/n still mourned Sam's death and she missed him dearly. She wondered how he'd react to the news of her being pregnant. She's at five months now. She was in the main room cleaning and refilling her guns. Just because she's not allowed to hunt for the time being doesn't mean she won't be cautious.

She heard a knock on the door and she knew Bobby wasn't supposed to be back until later. She grabbed her gun and stuffed it in the back of her jeans. She grabbed her shotgun and went to the door. When she opened the door, her jaw hit floor. She couldn't believe her eyes. There stood Sam Winchester in the flesh.

"Y/n." He breathed out and she pointed the shot gun at his chest. "It's me, Sam."

"Not you're not. Sam's dead."

"I know I died Y/n but I'm back."

"That's not possible. Who brought you back? Was it Dean?" It pained her to say his name but now's not the time to think about that.

"I don't know what or who brought me back but I'm willing to go to every test." He raised his hands in surrender.

"Alright." And with that she shot him.

"Ow son of a bitch. That hurt Y/n." He complained.

"It was just rock salt, don't be a bitch."

"Jerk." Sam replied and for second her guard dropped. Still pointing the gun at him she grabbed a silver knife from her back pocket and threw it at him. He caught it and sliced his arm, he showed her as the blood trickled down his arm. She then grabbed the holy water and threw it at his face.

"A little warning would've been appreciated." Sam sassed as he wiped the water from his eyes. "Can I hug you now?"

She kept staring at his face. She grabbed his arm and dragged him to main room and made him stand under the devils trap. Sam looked up and then moved away from the trap. Before either of them could say anything Y/n jumped up and wrapped her arms around him. He hugged her back and he felt something different about Y/n as he hugged her.

"How did this happen, Sammy?" She asked as they pulled away.

"Uh i don't know." He replied looking at her oddly. Y/n was thankful that she was wearing one of Sam's shirts, it was huge on her so her body was completely covered. Not that she had huge bump but still whatever she had, it was covered.

"How long have you been back?"

"Two months?"

"TWO MONTHS? SAM WINCHESTER YOUVE BEEN BACK FOR TWO MONTHS???" She exclaimed loudly. "Where have you been for the past two months?"

"Yeah I've been researching, I needed to know how I came back and uh I went to see Dean." He explained.

"You met Dean? Why's he not here?" She shouldn't care but she did.

"I didn't meet him. I just saw him." Sam replied.

"What do you mean? Why didn't you meet him? Where is he?"

"He is living with Lisa and Ben. He uh... he looked normal, he's living the apple pie life he always wanted and I couldn't go up there and take it all away from him." Sam told her with a sad smile. They both knew Dean would drop anything for his brother.

Y/n knew Lisa, she's met her once when they helped her get her son, Ben, back. Lisa was in Dean's life way before Y/n was. That was his only serious long term relationship she's ever known of. Lisa is a wonderful woman and it made sense why he left Y/n for someone like her.

"Was he...did he seem happy?" She had to ask.

"The happiest I've ever seen him. I didn't have it in me to go ahead and ruin everything. He looked so happy but I knew if I went in there he'd leave all of it to be back in hunting. I couldn't do that to him." Sam told her honestly.

"I agree."

"Where's Bobby?" Sam asked and the man in question entered the house and gasped at the sight in front of him. He grabbed the shot gun by the stairs and aimed at Sam. "Aw dammit not again."

"It's alright Bobby i checked. I did all the tests." Y/n intervened. The older man lowered his gun.

"Tell me something only Sam Winchester would know!" He demanded.

"A month before I fell, you lost your years to a witch in poker and then Dean lost to get your years back which made him old. But then I won back Dean's years and he turned back to normal." Sam narrated.

"What? When did that happen?" Y/n giggled as Bobby pulled Sam in a hug.

"When Bobby came to help us with the witch. You stayed back when we last hit the road." Sam replied.

"Oh I remember that, but you didn't tell me Dean got old." She laughed.

"Dean told me not to." Sam replied.

"Did you tell him?" Bobby asked Y/n and her eyes widened.

"Tell me what?" Sam asked warily.

"Uh look at that would ya? It's time for lunch. Why don't you wash up Bobby I'll set the table. You must be hungry too Sam." She said walking into the kitchen as Bobby went to freshen up. Sam followed her into the kitchen and she brush past him.

"Tell me what Y/n?"

"Would you like a beer, Sammy?" She pulled out a bottle and passed it to him. He banged his hand against the table gaining her attention.

"Tell me what?"

"I'm pregnant. It's Dean's." Y/n said calmly. The beer bottle slipped from his hands onto floor and shattering into a million pieces.

"What?" He asked completely in shock. Y/n pulled her shirt up a bit and it showed her bump. Sam stared at in utter disbelief. "I had no idea you and him? You and Dean you...?" He stuttered.

"It happened one night. It was a mistake." She lied. Ofcourse it wasn't one night and it wasn't a mistake either. But what can she even tell him.

"Does he know? Did you tell him?"

"No." She replied as she continued to set the food on the table.

"Why? Why wouldn't you tell him? he wanted a family for as long as i can remember."

"And he has a family. With Lisa. And Ben. I'm a hunter Sam, he can't have that white picket fence life with me which has with them. Don't you think he should live with the woman he loves and not with some good lay and a bastard child?" She snapped.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to say that word?" Bobby glared at Y/n as he entered the kitchen.

"What? That's your summoning? I say bastard child and you appear out of thin air?" Y/n replied sarcastically.

"You watch how you speak to me." Bobby's glare deepened.

"You can't kick me out. I'm carrying your grandchild." She stuck her tongue out the man she's come to love, as her father, over the years.

"I can when it's born."

"You wouldn't." She rolled her eyes.

"Are you two done? Because i would like to rewind to the part where you called yourself 'some good lay'." Sam sighed.

"What? You want me to say I was bad?" She joked.

"How are you not affected by all this? Stop acting like it doesn't bother you." Sam bellowed. He knew it must've been killing her inside.

"It doesn't bother me Sam."

"You have to tell Dean." He pressed on.

"I will not and if you did, I will shoot you. Not with a shot gun filled with rock salt but I'll put an actual bullet through you. And this is not an empty threat."

"I know things weren't good the last time we were here, he said things, he was stressed -"

"No Sam. It has nothing to do with what happened the last time."

"What is it then?"

"He left." Bobby said. "After you fell, he drove off leaving me and her behind. He didn't look back and we haven't heard from him since." He said solemnly looking at Y/n.

"I won't tell him. I promise." Sam said to y/n and She nodded. Sam felt a pang of guilt hit him. He remembered the talk he had with hin on their drive to Detroit. If only he hadn't made Dean promise to not find Y/n and go back to Lisa, things would've been different. Dean would've been here with his child and Y/n wouldn't have to go through this all alone. If only he had known. But how could've he known.

"Sam? You zoned out.!" Y/n called out.

"Yeah uhm I'm fine just too much to take in." Y/n nodded in agreement and Sam filled the two of them about the past two months. How his grandfather Samuel is also back from the dead. And he's been staying with him distant maternal cousins for the past two months.

Sam introduced Y/n to Samuel and his family. They've been getting along fine and Sam's back to hunting with the Campbells.

Three months later Y/n gave birth to Adeline Mary Winchester. No-one other than Bobby and Sam knew who the was the father of Adeline. Adeline was the cutest baby Sam had ever seen and much to Y/n's dismay, she looked exactly like her father. She had bright green eyes and dirty blonde hair. She had freckles all over her cheeks and nose just like Dean's. She reminded her too much of Dean.

"She looks exactly like Dean, no offence y/n." Sam said as he cradled his niece.

"None taken, Sammy. I know she looks like him." He placed her in her arms gently. "Hi there sweetheart." Y/n cooed at her daughter. "Isn't she adorable?"

"She's lovely." Sam commented. "I wish Dean was here." She wished too.

"But he's not."

"Because he doesn't know." Sam replied.

"I'd like to keep it that way. And we're not having this conversation again."

Y/n missed hunting. She'd been staying put and helping with research at Bobby's but she missed hunting. Neither of the men allowed her to go on hunts even if it was a basic salt and burn. Adeline had turned four months old three days ago. She was currently in Bobby's arms as she slept and Sam's on a hunt with Samuel.

The phone rang and Y/n answered it before it rang too much and woke up Addy.

"It's Gemma." She's one of Sam's distant cousins. Barely eighteen but a good hunter. "Me and Will are on a hunt and seems like we might need backup." Y/n relayed the information to Bobby hoping he'd let her go since there's no one else. The old man rolled his eyes and nodded. Y/n squealed with happiness and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you. Addy darling mommy's gonna be back before you know it." She kissed her daughter's cheek. "Don't bother the old man okay? I love you."

Y/n packed her stuff and drove her car to the town Gemma told her they would be in. It was dark when she left Sioux Falls and she arrived at the town at 4:20am. She met up with Gemma and Will. They decided they'd get those ambush the nest first thing in the morning. The three stayed in a motel room where Gemma took one bed and Y/n slept on the other. William was kind enough to give up on a bed and opt for the pullout couch instead. It had been a while since Y/n had been in a motel room.

It reminded her of Dean, how he would pull her in for a kiss every time Sam went out. Or how he would make her feel good when they shared a room. How he would make sweet passionate love to her and how the two of them created Adeline in a motel room. Then she felt bitter. He didn't make love to her, he had sex with her. If only he loved her like her told her, he would've never hurt her this bad. Or leave her alone by herself.

The morning came earlier than she expected and the three of them drove to the warehouse which was the supposed Vampire nest. There were nine vampires in total. Y/n hadn't felt this thrill in the past few months and she was thriving on it. Pumped up with adrenaline, she went in for the kill and ended up killing five on her own. All her frustration washing away with vampires' blood . Gemma and Will finished off the other four. The two rookies were impressed by her skills. The sun had set when they were with cleaning and disposing off the bodies. The three skipped town as soon as they cleaned up because a few of Gemma and Will's guns were at the motel, out in the open, the cleaning maid saw them and called the police.

They stopped two towns over to grab a few drinks. It was around nine pm. It had been a long time since y/n had alcohol. They went inside the bar and grabbed a table. Gemma and Will ordered beers but Y/n went for whiskey. She downed it one go and asked for another.

"Hey don't look at me like that, it's been a while i hunted or even drank." The two smirked and cheers to her. She decided to give Bobby a call and let him know that she'd be home in a few hours and asked if Addy was doing okay. To which he told that Sam's back and Addy has been with him since. She sighed in relief when she heard that.

"How's Addy?" Gemma asked.

"She's good. Sammy is back and she's with him right now." Y/n smiled thinking about her little girl. Her Dean jr.

The bar door opened and two men walked inside, one of the them was chattering too loudly which made Y/n look up and she wished she hadn't. She saw Dean walking in with a man she didn't recognise. She watched as Dean heard his friend's chatter with a smile on his face. He looked...normal. Just some guy you'd find at a bar on the weekend. He didn't look like Dean Winchester. The one she knew. She hoped he doesn't see her but has luck ever been on her side? He looked at her and their eyes met.

Dean stopped dead in his tracks as soon as his eyes landed on her. His heart felt like it would burst out of his chest. It's almost been an year since he last saw her but the mere sight of her was enough to make him fold. She looked just a beautiful as the day he left her. The day he broke her heart but ripped his own into pieces. She looked like he had gained some weight, but it suited her. And then his gaze dropped to her lips, those same lips that he used to kiss sore, the same lips let out those sinful noises when he made her feel good. Those lips, he'd give anything to feel against his own.

"Dean, are you okay?" Sid asked as he noticed Dean stop.

"Yeah man, I'm good." He said still looking at her. He knows he shouldn't, but he couldn't help himself before he spoke, "i think I saw someone from my high school, let's go say hi." He said walking towards her table.

"Sure." Sid followed behind him.

Y/n's heart rate picked up as he got closer, why is he walking towards us. Is going to act like he knows me? The sheer audacity of this man. Hasn't he broken me enough why..

"Hey.! Gracie Henderson, right?" Dean spoke as he reached their table. Gemma and Will turned to look up at him.

Damn you Dean. Fuck you. He had to strike a nerve there. That was their alias when they had to go undercover as a couple. It was always Y/n and Dean since Sam couldn't like a couple with Y/n. He just had to make everything awkward, so it was always Dean and Y/n. Gracie Henderson and her husband Troy Henderson.

Ofcourse he couldn't miss the chance to hurt me again. Y/n thought to herself.

"Huh?" Y/n feigned ignorance.

"You're Gracie right? We went to high school together." Dean said looking right at her.

"Sorry? I think you have the wrong person." Y/n spoke the alcohol in her system giving her the courage to speak to him. "I never went to high school and its Adeline."

"Alright my bad." Dean said, his friend mumbling a sorry before they went to sit at the table beside theirs. His friend went to order for them and he sat there eavesdropping the conversation happening at the table beside him.

"He definitely knows you. That was one of your aliases." Gemma said as soon as Dean left. Y/n shrugged in response ordering another drink. "Cmon y/n tell us why did you act like you didn't know him?"

"Because he's Dean Winchester." She practically sneered his name. Dean flinched at the way she said name.

"What really ? He's Dean?" Will spoke for the first time in awhile. Y/n nodded.

"Why didn't you tell him to join us?" Gemma asked and Will added a "yeah why not?"

"Are you two dumb? What part of his appearance says he's a hunter? He's not in the business anymore. And the guy that came with him? He screams 9 to 5. So what did you two expect me to invite him to our table and reminisce the time we went to a fucking high school to burn the body of his brother's friend and his friend's bully?" Y/n spoke agitatedly and the two nodded in understanding. She downed her drink.

"I can't believe i came here out for this. You two needed backup for nine vampires? You know Bobby doesn't let me go on hunts. I came out to hunt after almost a year and its some stupid fucking vampires." She sighed dramatically.

Dean perked up when he heard her say she hadn't hunted in almost an year. Is she out of the business too? What does she mean Bobby doesn't let her hunt.

"You haven't hunted in almost a year and still you took down five vampires on your own." Will sat there in total awe. "You're my new role model."

Sid had already came back but Dean's attention was still on y/n. He smiled when he heard she took down five vampires on her own, that's my girl. He thought to himself.

"You two kiddos did good too. I'm sorry I snapped, I'm a bit stressed." Y/n said.

"It's alright." Gemma smiled.

"I'll head out." Y/n said grabbing her jacket and threw a few bills to for her bills.

"You're driving back to Sioux Falls?" Will asked and she nodded. "Aren't you drunk?"

"I've only had three drinks."

"Yeah of whiskey." Gemma added.

"Trust me kiddo. It takes a lot more than that to get me drunk." She replied and Dean noticed a lingering sadness in her voice.

The love of his life has been through hell and back and she's still kicking it. He wishes he could just grab her and disappear from the surface of the earth. To keep her from harms way and keep her protected from all the sadness and hurt. He wish he could love her the way she deserves to be loved. He watched as she left the bar before yelling a "get home safe kiddos."

The first thing y/n did as she reached home was to see Adeline. It was around five in the morning when she reached home. She saw Sam in the kitchen eating cereal and looking at his computer while he held Adeline on his lap.

"Good morning." She said as she entered the kitchen.

"Look Addy, mommy's back." Sam said holding her up. The baby giggled as she saw her mother approaching her.

"There's my baby." She picked up Adeline in her arms. "Did you miss mommy?" She asked in baby voice and the little girl flailed her arms, excitedly tapping her mother's cheeks.

"How was your 'first' hunt?" Sam joked earning an eye roll.

"It was good, vamps nest." She said sitting beside him, pulling her hair away from Adeline who was gripping it too tightly.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked noticing the stress lines on his best friend's face.

"I'm fine, why'd you ask?"

"You have that look on your face." Sam replied gesturing to her face.

"What look?"

"That look when something is bothering you but you're too prideful to say."

"I don't have such look on my face." Y/n said bouncing Addy on her lap.

"Y/n." Sam stared at her. He knows it's only a matter of seconds before she's spilling the truth.

"I met Dean okay? No big deal." She sighed.

"What? You met Dean? How?" Y/n filled in him with everything that happened after the hunt.

"He looked like a common man, it was weird seeing him. And the audacity to walk up to me and say hi? He was lucky he was with someone or I would've bashed his face in the table." Y/n growled her hold tightening on Adeline.

"Maybe he missed you and he thought after seeing you again he could talk to you." Sam said hoping he could get her hate him a little less.

"Well he thought wrong." She said angrily making her way out of the kitchen.

"Do you want me to watch Addy while you rest?" Sam called out from behind her.

"I am very much capable of taking care of my daughter on my own." She snapped, she didn't mean she didn't need Sam's help, she always appreciated his existence. But at the moment her words had a different meaning. She wanted Sam to know that just because she met Dean doesn't mean she will let him be in Adeline's life.

Sam sighed as he watched her walk away. He most definitely understood the meaning behind her words. Y/n went to her room and laid Adeline on the bed. She kneeled beside the bed and looked at her daughter. Adeline wiggled amd giggled staring at her mother. Y/n couldn't help but let a few tears run down her cheek. She never wanted this to be her daughter's life, she didn't need her innocent baby to grow up around monsters, without her father being there to protect her.

"How I wish I could hate your father, Addy. I resent him for what he did to us but I still love him. How could I not when he has given me you." She whispered, her daughter stared up the her with her bright green eyes that reminded her so much of her lost love. She placed soft kisses on her chubby cheeks before putting her in her crib. Y/n sighed as she got into bed. Little did she know this was the last time she had a good night's sleep in a long time.

Tags:

@spnfamily-j2 @queensilber @deangirl96 @galway-girlatwork @hobby27

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bl00dlight · 7 months ago

Text

A Song of Shadow & Flame

CANON Dark! Aemond Targaryen x OC niece Targaryen. | SERIES

Warning; This chapter includes:

Mentions of underage SA, inappropriate treatment of underage characters, violence

Word Count ~ 5k+

Author's note • Expanding upon that warning; prepare for Aegon being Aegon. Also I have not edited this shit, I wrote it in like a 10k block of writing. I ain't got no fucken time for that atm.

Index

i ● ii ● iii ● iv ● v ● vi● vii● viii ●ix ● x ● xi ● xii ● xiii ● xiv ● xv

v ~ 'Nameday'

123 AC

Prince Aemond heard the muffled sighs of his elder brother Prince Aegon, who did little to hide his disinterest during the Lady Laena’s funeral rites. He��d grimaced at the way he found out his cousin had perished, though he supposed at least she went out as a dragon rider and not some writhing woman at the mercy of the Maesters. As he gazed over the detailed carving of her coffin, his mind drifted to just how she might look in there, probably burnt to a fine, gruesome crisp – and the babe probably resembled a lump of roasted meat more than a child. Aemond shook his head at the thought, wishing to gag at the mere notion of it. His mind drifted in and out as the funeral rites rattled on, yet he couldn’t help but notice the rumbling of Lady Laenor’s mount in the skies above. His attention was once again quickly captured by the Queen, his mother, Alicent Hightower pinching the sides of Prince Aegon as he sighed again. His elder brother let out a soft wince, and Aemond smirked to himself before feeling the soft eyes of his elder sister Princess Helaena upon him. Her face was aloof, her eyes neither narrow nor wide as she gazed at him for a moment – her silver curls seemingly white in the light of the overcast sky.

Helaena looked away, uninterested and Aemond could not help but to feel rising sparks of envy every time he gazed at his sister. Not only for how unaware she seemed, but also of her recent betrothal to their elder brother Prince Aegon. He was far more worthy for a betrothal than Aegon, no it was a match which his elder brother surely would not fail to let go to absolute waste. How could drunkard, lecherous Aegon be wedded in their tradition, and Aemond merely used as whatever political pawn his parents pleased? Was he truly that unimportant? Why should Aegon be worthy of Helaena’s hand and not he? Aemond did not wish for some gossiping Lady of the court, he deserved a wife worthy of him, worthy of a dragon’s blood. The fact remained that even if Prince Aegon was one day to be King, he was still unworthy in Aemond’s mind, in fact he had been secretly hoping their mother would suggest he and Helaena be betrothed in order to solidify Aemond making for a greater claim when the time came. For why would his mother wish for Aegon to be on the throne and not he, why would Alicent not see Aegon was insufficient and make it, so his claim was far less preferred of Aemond’s? The young Prince knew who sat on the Iron Throne was merely a matter of who men see the most beneficial, surely his mother could not be so stupid as to not see how everyone regarded his elder brother as a useless lech.

His blood boiled at the thought of all of it, at Aegon, his mother, his brother’s betrothal – yet as his eyes wandered upon the funeral guests he came across another infuriating sight he had done well to ignore thus far. Princess Visenya. Aemond looked over to her, Visenya stood beside her mother Rhaneyra, the young princess kept her eyes glued to Lady Laena’s coffin. He scanned her for a moment, yet she did not seem to notice his gaze as small tears ran down her pale face. Aemond felt himself struck for a moment, gazing at his niece and perhaps for the first time, noticing her properly. He felt himself cringe at the thought, though when the Princess was not speaking, or vexing – she seemed to be rather, fair. His mind turned to what he considered a dark place as he gazed upon his niece, taking in the fact she was indeed the picture of a Valyrian princess. If she weren’t so unbearable perhaps he would not refuse a betrothal to her. Visenya was indeed a rather pretty girl, even for her age, though a tad taller than he. Regardless, she was a Targaryen as he, and all the great Targaryen men seemingly had Valyrian blooded wives. Why should he go without? It was not like he had to have affections for her, all they had to do was perform their duty and Aemond had grown most comfortable with doing so in the pursuit of his own gain.

Yet… that is what troubled the young prince all the same as he narrowed his gaze upon the young Princess, Visenya, was probably a bastard, and an irritating one at that, but still worthy she may be. And though it bothered him terribly, she was of pure Targaryen blood, and her poorly held tongue proved as such. Mayhap she could probably be kept like a doll, if he was to wed her, he thought in jest. But the thought lingered more than he wished it to, and as he continued to wonder he thought for as long as did what she was told, upheld their duty, and remained comely, she might be far more ideal wife for him than a woman he hardly knew.

He shook his head at the thought, reminding himself that Princess Visenya was nothing more than a stupid, vapid girl and that she had oft taken pleasure in her brother’s tormenting him. They were nothing alike anyway, the princess liked frivolous and superficial things, she enjoyed jewels and pretty gowns. Cakes too… he was positive she enjoyed sweets. At every family supper at King’s Landing, he had watched with disgust as she masticated any meat or vegetable that befell her, often spitting it out crudely. Yet, when desert came she would gorge herself on puddings and fruits – much to his disgust too. The prince was surprised her teeth hadn’t rotted from her mouth, though he supposed she must have some sort of tonic or salve from the Maesters to keep her teeth like pearls. No, of course, no consequence would dare befall her for her own gluttony, she would never allow it. If there was one thing to be noted about Princess Visenya, it was how little she resembled their great ancestor Queen Visenya. No, the young princess was no warrior, no woman of hard will or brute force. The princess was weak, easily tempted, and most of all terribly vain, he thought. Aemond had once caught her admiring her reflection upon the small pond in the garden’s once, he had the mind to push her in. His mind dwelled and battled with itself as he thought of her, and he supposed she would not make a terrible wife if she did not speak. Though that was another problem, the princess lacked the tact to keep her thoughts to herself. Mayhap he could get her mouth sewn shut; Prince Aemond stifled a smirk as the image entered his mind.

As the moments passed, Aemond shuddered at the realization of how much he actually knew of her, how much he thought of her… why was he thinking of her? Disgust then rage filled him, no… no…twas her fault, not his. Her fault for being so utterly dreadful that he loathed her to the point of dwelling on her! Her stupid sad face, her lips pouting as though she truly felt sorry for her Lady Laena. It was all just artifice, all just an act to appear as though she had any morals in that blackened soul of hers.

●

Lady Laena’s funeral came and went in a horrid flash, Visenya had all but ran to her half-sister’s Baela and Rhaena upon seeing them again, taking them both in her arms tightly as the two younger girls both wept softly. She had spent most of the repast with her sisters, and of course, shadowing her half-brothers. Visenya watched the gloom on Jacaerys face glaze his eyes, every time she swore a tear would form it would be quickly concealed by the wiping of his hand or shaking of his head.

The Princess had soon taken refuge by the shores of Driftmark, her gaze drifting upon the yellowed sand, the gray sea which brushed gently up upon the rocks. Her mind dwelling on her father, how his eyes softened as quickly as they hardened. Her heart aching with that familiar pang of longing for a life she simply did not have. Something Visenya oft tried to suppress with the joys of material goods, though futile it proved as time and time again she was left with that familiar empty sensation she couldn't quite name.

As she continued upon the edge of the rock pools, she came across a familiar sight looking up to the skies above at the mourning Vhagar. Silver hair contrasting a green cloak; Aemond.

Cautiously she approached him as he continued to look upwards at Vhagar, he heard the sound of soft footsteps approaching him, he slowly turned his gaze towards the young princess. A small scoff was heard to escape from him as Aemond crossed his arms, looking back at the sky. "What do you want? Are you here to shove me once more?"

She paused and looked up to the mournful cries above, the dark silhouette of Vhagar lining the gray clouds, “Not if you are not so rude as to grab at me again.” Visenya retorted back, her gaze finding the back of his head.

Aemond merely rolled his eyes at her words, he continued to stare up at the sky, not daring to look at her. She did not deserve his attention, not after their previous encounter all those weeks ago. The prince had a small frown upon his face as he kept his arms crossed. "What is it that you want? You must want something from me, if you've come to seek me out."

She scoffed and raised her brow, "I did not come for you. I came to seek solace away from the funeral. How was I to know you would be here... lurking?" Her voice crooning, he was always creeping in the shadows she thought.

The small smirk that had been upon Aemond’s face vanished, he turned swiftly, his tone sharp as that familiar annoyance within him bloomed. He shot Visenyal a cold look and took a step towards her, grumbling out his words, "I was not lurking! I was here just to think, I had already been here well before you graced me with your presence."

Visenya let out a vexing chuckle, her look incredulous as she smirked, “I doubt that. You probably came down here to scour for some helpless sea creatures to torment.”

He looked at her with a huff, it was like she had read his mind for he had indeed been looking for creatures to torment. The prince’s eyes glanced down to her with an unyielding stare. "And so what if I did? The creatures are weak, they are nothing to me or to you. They might as well be servants for me to command." He had taken a step towards her and Aemond's cold stormy eyes were met with Visenya's smirk, as if she was not the least intimidated by him.

Visenya opened her mouth as her expression coiled with disgust, she didn’t expect him to admit to such cruelty, "Ugh. I do wonder what exactly went wrong with you and your siblings. If it is not Helaena whispering to spiders, or Aegon accosting serving girls - it is you sulking around and toiling with the lives of helpless creatures. Truly... the lot of you are so strange."

The princess shook her head, stepping back from him as though he were riddled with disease, and in some ways she supposed he was. Not of the flesh of course, but of the mind. Certainly, it was the spawn of Alicent’s Hightower blood, crafty and cunning intertwining with the blood of the dragon that left the Green children terribly abnormal.

The cold look on Aemond's face morphed into one of anger as his eyes darkened at her words. How dare she insult him? How dare she? Anger took hold within him like no other as Aemond took another step towards his niece before him, standing in front of her now. "What did you just say to me? I will not listen to the likes of you spewing harsh words of my family!" His voice darkened, Aemond's hands balled into a fist, his knuckles turning white in the process.

Small waves crashed upon the rock pool as Visenya stepped back, raising her brow in judgment, "Calm yourself. Twas only a jest."

Aemond's eyes darkened, even more, his jaw clenched tightly. "That was not a mere jest. Do not tell me to calm myself! Do not presume to speak of my family, what do you even know of us regardless? Nothing but your own mindless little judgements it seems." He felt himself grow overwhelmed once again, she was so utterly irritating, how could he ever have thought to maybe wed her? Even despite the use of Dragon riding heirs, Visenya was not worth it.

"Now you defend them? You have spent half our youth complaining about Aegon for one?" Visenya smiled smugly and chuckled, her gaze upon her uncle sharp.

"I complain about him because it is the truth, but he is still my brother, my blood. Something you would know little about, niece." His words came out through clenched teeth, Aemond could feel his anger growing, his blood boiling under his skin with every sly smirk and sharp jest. Yet the prince fought to keep his composure in front of her, for would not succumb to Visenya’s vexing.

The anger finally won over Aemond, and a smirk was now plastered on his face. "Do you want me to say it then? The truth we have all been barred from speaking?" His voice filled with a callousness beyond the likes she had seen, a spite that surprised him.

Suddenly, a bitter air fell between them. Visenya wanted to lunge, wanted to grab his vile little tongue and pull it from his stupid little mouth before she looked down, tempering herself. As she did, another familiar voice filled the space.

“Brother?! Brother where-”, The lanky gait of Aegon approached the two Targaryen children, his hair longer, shaggy. A flailing rag of silver locks whipping as stumbled upon the rocks. Aemond’s gaze hardened further as he watched his elder brother approach, muttering under his breath. Now was not the time.

Aemond's smug expression turned to annoyance as he watched his brother drunkenly stumble his way through the rocks. "What are you doing here Aegon?!” He snapped slightly.

Aegon merely ignored his brother's anger as he walked up to the two young Targaryen’s, he let out a snicker before flailing his arms, swiftly approaching and gripping his Aemond's shoulder. Visenya noticed how he had flinched at the touch.

"I was looking for you, fool!” he said drunkenly, turning his attention back to who stood before him. His lilac gaze widened as a smirk appeared upon his face, “Oh, hello, Visenya.”

The Princess stared indifferently at her elder Uncle before her brow raised in amusement, the princess tilted her head as she noticed how Aegon leered upon her. "Hello Aegon."

Aemond's gaze deepened as he watched his brother lean against him. His brother was drunk, again. The boy's arms remained crossed, as he stifled down that sickly feeling of embarrassment he had always felt in front of others while Aegon was present.

"Well, now that you have found me, you can go stumbling somewhere else," The younger prince spoke distantly, still glaring up at his older brother.

"Ah! Do not be such a bitter old man, brother. I merely came to see you, and here you are…with our pretty niece." Aegon's voice slurred, a drunken smile upon his face. Aemond felt a flash of frustration and disgust, though he kept his composure, merely rolling his eyes at the comment.

The Princess found herself in slight disbelief of the situation, it was terribly awkward, though she admittedly enjoyed seeing how terribly uncomfortable Aemond had gotten, his gait stiff and eyes downcast.

She tilted her head, smiling softly as she could not help but beam at Aegon’s compliment of her. “Hm, thank you, Uncle.” Visenya said coyly.

The younger prince felt his eyes narrow as he watched that small, self-satisfied smile curl upon her face. He felt bothered by her indulgence of his brother’s depravity. A strange silence bloomed between the three before another wave crashed upon the rock, leading Aegon to stumble, his hand gripped his younger brother’s shoulder as the elder prince slurred, “Mm fuck.”

Aemond's fists were still clenched, as he attempted to keep his composure. His temper still flared from his previous conflict with Visenya, and now his brother had come to make it worse. He kept his gaze down, his heart coiling in rage and humiliation. Finally, the sweaty grip of his brother upon him set the young Prince reeling, "Get off me, you stink!’ Aemond muttered, shoving his brother away from him.

Suddenly, Aegon stumbled backwards, his vision unfocused as he nearly fell. Aemond however, could hardly give a shit, silently hoping his brother to fall and crack his head upon the rock, mayhap then he might find some bloody peace. The princess at scoffed Aemond’s inaction, she stepped out, her fingers wrapping around Aegon’s arm to keep him upright.

A drunken smile returned to his face, “My sweet niece, I see you care for me.” He crooned, chuckling lowly as he noticed the way a small blush crept upon her cheek, he leaned in and mumbled, “It is a shame our mothers cannot make amends.. you would have suited me better.”

Visenya’s brow furrowed in confusion, before she registered his drunken muttering, he must have been referring to his betrothal with Heleana. She smiled coyly and shook her head but as she went to speak Aemond interrupted harshly, disgusted by both of his kin before him, “Do not say such things.”

The elder prince scoffed and rolled his eyes, muttering softly, “Yes… yes..”, he turned and then leaned upon Visenya steadying himself. Without warning, Aegon brought his hand up to her face, his thumb grazed her lips, making her flinch as he spoke again whispering, “I do doubt she would please me as you might-“

Before Aegon could mutter anything more, the Princess withdrew her hand that held his arm, almost tittering backwards in a slight fear of his ogling. The feeling of his cool, sweaty palm upon her cheek made her want to wretch as the dark revelation of his intentions hammered through her. She had never liked such sentiments from men, always found them frightening – as she had grown over the years she had noticed the once innocent gazes and touches of men around her turning to something darker. Something she couldn’t explain but knew was wrong. Despite it all, despite being told she was soon a woman grown, she still felt like a girl – and by all means; she was.

“Aegon...” The younger Targaryen prince stepped forward; his tone low yet oddly submissive – as though he could not quite find it in him to stand up to his brother.

Aegon ignored Aemond’s warning. His free hand grabbed her chin, lifting it so to better view her face. “Come on, Visenya, you’ve grown quite becoming.” The silver haired boy’s breath was hot, a slight scent of alcohol wafting from him.

The tension grew rapidly, the princess shook under his grasp her hands pushing at his chest though it were no use. He was taunting her, laughing softly as he examined her face. Visenya wince in frustration, “Mm, you’ve our half-sister’s cheeks…” Aegon muttered, his eyes narrowing. “Actually, you know who you remind me of? Brother, come… tis remarkable how much our little niece looks like the Prince Daemon?” A harsh chuckle left the elder prince’s lips as he taunted her, his breath hot and distinctly yeasty.

The Princess felt her heart soar with rage, she flickered her gaze over to Aemond as his eyes were to the ground. She brought her knee soaring to Aegon’s groin but missed and slammed into his upper thigh. Aegon scoffed and squeezed at her fleshy cheeks. “STOP!” Visenya exclaimed, she felt weak, humiliated.

As Aemond watched the grotesque display of his brother’s depravity he felt himself fly into action, he charged furious at the sight of his brother's drunken hand on her. "Did you not hear what I just said, you fool!" He yelled, as he pulled his brother's hand away from their niece. Aemond gripped the bony flesh of his brother’s wrist, forcing him away.

The elder prince was taken aback by his younger brother’s sudden aggression, he feigned ignorance and raised his brow, looking at Aemond with widened drunken eyes. "What? I was only looking at her."

"You were squeezing her face, as if it was a toy." Aemond's voice was filled with fury, his hand ached before he thrusted it away from Aegon. "You say you wish to seek me out, yet all you've done is act as a drunkard."

Aegon let his head cock backwards, laughing mischievously – so what if he was in a sorry state? Was it not his right, after all his mother is convinced he shall be King. Aegon had thought many a time on how he shall spend his day as King constructing a large personal brewery and brothel in the Red Keep. Finally make the bloody place good for something. No, it was not he who was the issue, perhaps Aemond was just too dull to see that he was only fooling around. His voice softened, "Relax, little brother. I was merely teasing her; you needn't accost me. Regardless, drink was the only worthwhile element of such a boring affair."

The two Targaryen boys bickered and Visenya felt herself grow sickened. She looked away, her mind filling with rage and humiliation, and betrayal. How could Aemond just stand there for so fucking long, useless as though he were one of the rocks beneath their feet. She felt tears clawing at her and she turned her head away, concealing the hot droplets with her hand.

Aemond's turned and noticed the princess in distress, he grimaced and a small pang in his chest appeared as he caught the glimmer of her tears. Yet he pushed it away, reminding himself that it was indeed Visenya and not some innocent girl, she was wicked and just as cruel as Aegon. He would not concede to caring for her now, even with that pain within his chest. He muttered lowly again to his brother, “Go away.”

The elder prince leaned in, giving his brother a light tap on the cheek before smiling "Shut it, little brother," Aegon muttered as he turned and pushed his silver hair from his face, straightening himself. "And you," he said, turning to Visenya, "Don’t go crying, I meant nothing by my words." He looked at her with half-lidded eyes, smiling. "I simply meant to say that you have grown very beautiful, Visenya." His voice gentle.

Rage boiled in the princess again as she snapped, “Do not dare touch me again!”

As her shrill voice clashed against the swelling sound of the waves, Aegon raised his hands as a sign of surrender, though his ever present smirk remained. "Relax niece." The elder silver haired boy then turned his eyes upon Aemond, smirking at his cold eyed brother. "Why don’t we all temper ourselves, yes? We are kin after all." His smile was sickly.

Neither spoke, Aemond’s gaze remained on the rocks below, gazing between the dark inky curling tide as Visenya kept her gaze like daggers upon Aegon. He shook his head, growing with frustration as the younger Targaryen’s refused to embrace what he thought was light hearted play.

Aegon stepped forward to the princess and spoke, “Oh, come on! I didn’t mea- “Aegon flailed his arms, and then stopped as he noticed just how his niece coiled backwards in fear. He hummed at the slight tinge, examining her for a moment before a flicker of guilt in his gut rose.

Aemond's icy gaze only darkened as he listened to Aegon speak. He did not understand why his brother behave so perversely, for this was awful, even for Aegon’s standards. He looked between the two as they spoke, his fists clenching tighter and tighter. Yet his eyes softened slightly as he saw the flicker of fear upon their niece when his brother moved closer. Suddenly a wave of guilt hit him, why did he do nothing?

He felt useless, he was just as bad as Aegon. In his guilt, Aemond spoke lowly, “Just leave, brother.”

The elder prince turned swiftly and scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief “No… no, I’m not going up there, tis bloody miserable.”

“It’s a funeral?” Visenya quipped back bitterly. Of course it was bloody miserable, she thought. A mother and her babe had just died.

Aegon turned his head to his niece before trailing off, his gaze lowered as he looked at the rocks below, slowly pacing, “Indeed, it’s utterly awful...”

Silence fell between the three, Visenya still felt bitter wrath in her, though her eyes were upon Aemond now. With a swift whoosh, Aegon turned again and pointed to Visenya, “Was it not your name day this week?”

Her eyes did a double take before settling on Aegon, slightly taken aback by the abrupt change in tone, Visenya muttered, “Yes.”

A small, amused grin appeared upon his sharp face as he tilted his head and tutted “I feel sorry for you Visenya… however are you going to celebrate it again? It shall depress everyone knowing Lady Laenor died only a day prior. No more festivities it seems…” Aegon sighed, feigning pity before he began to pace again, continuing to ramble.

“…At least… not at Dragonstone, mayhap you ought to come to Kings Landing – I pride myself on the most unforgettable name day celebrations.” Aegon threw his head back slightly as he bragged, his eyes coming to his younger brother, noticing how Aemond shifted in discomfort, “Isn’t that right, brother? Tell our niece about our trip to Cock Inn, last year. You were turning ten and three, just like her.”

He knew it was coming, the young prince… he knew Aegon would find a way to humiliate him further. Slowly Aemond felt his cheeks burn, turning read from further humiliation, he looked up to see the disgusted expression upon Visenya’s face. “Be quiet.” Aemond grumbled.

Visenya watched as the dragonless prince shifted in discomfort, his fists and jaw clenched tightly as Aegon began to bring up a past that clearly had not been forgotten. She could only watch quietly as Aegon spoke on the name-day celebration, his drunken laughter filling the evening air. The young princess's eyes widened with shock as she heard Aegon mention the name of the Inn. She shook her head in confusion.

"No, no… I insist you tell her! Visenya is nearly a woman grown, I am sure she shall be betrothed soon. You ought to educate her as I did you!” With a wave of his hand, Aegon continued pacing, awaiting what was to come.

Aemond's cheeks flushed bright red, his fists clenching even tighter as Aegon began to reminisce that fateful night. He could still remember how Aegon’s vile words were still etched into his mind, “Time to get it wet.” The flash of what he had done that night, to whom he had done it to filled him with shame. He could still smell the saccharine perfume upon the weathered skin of the madame. Aemond furrowed his brow, wishing his mother were here. Aemond’s gazed laced with disgust before he turned his head away. A he avoided his brother's teasing sneer as a mixture of mortification and irritation filled his heart. How could he have been so foolish to follow his brother into such a wretched night? He muttered lowly to himself, the wind almost carrying his words away, “No.”

A high pitched, snivelling snicker left Aegon, and another lashing of that heavy feeling settled in the younger prince’s chest. He cursed his brother and his big, vile mouth, why did he have to mention such sin in front of Visenya? His fists tensed as Aegon's laughter bounced upon the jiggered cliff wall, he could feel his jaw clench as the mention of a past made his cheeks burn. He tried to ignore the pain and dishonour that came when Visenya's gaze shifted towards him.

The princess felt an overwhelming dread rippled through her, pulsing into her very bones. It was dreadful, the whole conversation seemed to derail into absolute horror before her eyes and though she knew not what Cock Inn was, she was ignorant to what its name suggest. “What are you blabbing on about?” Her tone sharp as she sneered at Aegon.

“See, our niece wishes to know? You would be a grand teacher for our sweet niece, after all he learned from one of the more… aged and experienced Lady’s.” Aegon snivelled lowly at his lewd implication.

As the words left Aegon’s lips, Aemond could not contain himself. The sheer shame of it all, the sheer disgust he felt within himself – which sparked tears in his eyes. Tears? No… no he could not cry, not in front of Aegon, not in front of Visenya. He would not be faint-hearted, he couldn't let his brother continue to humiliate him in front of others, even if it was his own blood. With a low growl, Aemond lunged at Aegon, tackling him to the ground and began punching him, his fists hitting his brother's face relentlessly.

The princess gasped, her eyes widened as she watched the young princes' wrestle on the ground, their fists flying wildly. As Aemond managed to tackle Aegon, he began to punch him repeatedly, his fists landing on his brother's face with a flurry of anger. But, the elder dragon's smile never left his face, he just giggled as if he were merely being tickled by a little boy. With that, a scoff left Aegon’s lip as he brought his hand to Aemond’s smaller chest shoving him to rocks.

Aemond stumbled back as Aegon shoved him away, his body crashing hard on the ground with a thud. He felt the pain as the sharp rocks dug into his back, it hurt, but he knew he had to continue fighting. He rose back up to his feet, his fists still clenched tight. He let out a loud yell, filled with anger and frustration, before charging back towards his brother. The younger prince swung freely at Aegon, and his fist connected with his brother's face once more.

The heavy sounds of grunts and giggling filled the air, and Visenya folded her arms, tilting her head at the rather pathetic sight before her. Aemond desperately trying to get one up upon his brother, and Aegon rolling about the floor dodging his advances, snivelling like a child.

She sighed after a few moments, waiting for them to tire themselves out and slowly approached them. With one final push, Aemond crashed upon the rocks again, and he himself let out a sharp, air hungry breath before he gave up his attack. Aegon stood up unsteadily and then looked down to his younger brother, a small moment transpired, a wry smile upon the elder prince’s face as his hand whipped Aemond hard across the back of his head, “Twat.” He spat.

As Aemond winced, he felt himself cower, more rage and shame curdling within him, but he had little energy to keep fighting. His gaze returned to his brother above before a small tap upon Aegon’s shoulder drove his attention to their niece behind him, “Keen for a slap too niece?” He laughed.

Suddenly, the dense thud of Visenya’s boot came in contact with Aegon’s groin. Aemond’s eyes widened in a strange enjoyment as the whimpering of Aegon filled the space. His elder brother practically crumbled to his knees and gagged. The elder prince coughed and groaned more, clutching at his breeches before he choked out, “You little… cunt…”

Visenya’s gaze was indignant and sharp before she looked to Aemond, extending her hand. The young prince refused her but as he went to speak, her harsh grip clawed into his wrist and forced him up. Without another word, Visenya tore Aemond away from his brother. Aegon shuffling to lean again the rocky cliff wall, inebriated and moaning in pain.

○vi○

#hotd #aemond targaryen #got #house of the dragon #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fanfiction #rhaneyra targaryen #daemon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x niece

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a-killer-obsession · 11 days ago

Text

Safe [Killer x OC Nina]

Commissioned by @dissvicious

CW: third person pov, canon x oc, mentions of drug use, mentions of sex work, drug withdrawal, attempt of noncon, oral sex, handjob, fingering, p in v sex

WC: 8.2k

Masterlist || Comissions Info

When Heat and Wire heard noises coming from the pantry, they expected to find some sort of wild animal, a racoon or rats or maybe even a stray dog. Well, there was an animal, a black cat missing limbs and most of its tail, but the cat wasn't really the cause of the issue. The real problem was the pink haired woman scavenging through the Kid Pirate's food stores, though she looked so feral she may as well classify as a wild animal anyway. Dirty, her clothes torn, her hair messy and overgrown where her style clearly dictated shaving, and pupils blown out from drugs. It was a look they both recognized well from their home island, making the two men exchange a saddened, sympathetic look as the woman looked at them with wide, frightened eyes - yet she continued to tear at her stolen turkey leg, like she was scared she wouldn't get to eat again. It made them wonder how long she'd gone without food, that the presence of two relatively massive pirates didn't deter her.

Her cat stumbling noisily behind her as it tried to shake a jar from its head broke the stand off between the three of them, and Wire was quick to snatch her up. She fought him, of course, trying to beat him off with her weak arms and her turkey leg, to which Wire merely sighed and adjusted his hold on her, tearing the turkey away from her and tossing it aside, much to her dismay. He held her out by the scruff of her shirt as she wildly swung all her limbs at him and growled like a caged cat, unable to reach him with her much shorter arms and legs. She was so small compared to Wire, he'd thought she was a child at first glance, if not for all the tattoos. Heat gingerly scooped up her cat, who was far more friendly than the woman and merely gave a chirp at the sudden abduction, following Wire out of the room to take the two invaders to the boss.

Kid sat in his throne like chair at the head of the dining table, gorging on meat as his first mate stood to his side. He looked up in confusion as he heard the shrill angry screams and familiar calls of “BOSS!” approaching from the hall. Wire dragged the woman in, putting her in a chokehold as she turned her anger on Kid the second she was close enough. ‘Is this love at first sight?’ Kid thought to himself as he watched the feral woman try to fight a man at least three times her size, unarmed but fearless at her captor. He liked a woman with a bit of fire to her, it was more of a challenge. This one was small too, he couldn't help but picture how easy it would be to manhandle her however he liked. He shook his head at the intrusive thought as his pants threatened to get tight. The woman clawed at Wire's arm, leaving deep gashes in his tan skin, but he paid it no mind.

“Found some rats in the pantry,” Wire told Kid in his deep monotone voice.

“I'LL SHOW YOU A FUCKING RAT,” the woman screamed, “GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OF ME YOU SORRY EXCUSE FOR A BDSM SCARECROW.”

“How the fuck did she get in the pantry?” Killer scowled under his mask, unphased by the slew of insults she continued to throw at them. “Heat, find out who was on watch, have them punished.”

“What do I do with the cat?” Heat asked, shifting awkwardly.

“Drown it or some shit, who cares,” Kid waved his hand dismissively, ignoring the woman screaming in his face. The wave of his hand brought it close enough to her mouth, and she took her opportunity to bite him as hard as she could, sinking her dirty teeth into his flesh. He recoiled his hand quickly, inspecting the deep, bleeding bite. “FUCKING BITCH!” he growled, “you better not have fucking rabies.”

“LEAVE MY CAT ALONE YOU FUCKING PIG FACED CUNT,” she spat at him, “HURT HIM AND I'LL BITE YOUR FUCKING DICK OFF NEXT, AND BURN YOUR STUPID SHITTY CASTLE AND YOUR STUPID UGLY ASS BOAT TO THE GROUND.”

Kid held his hand against the cool metal of his prosthetic to soothe the bite as the woman huffed from excursion in his face, her teeth bared at him like a wild animal. His dick twitched involuntarily at the threats, damn this woman. He leaned back in his chair, looking her up and down, inspecting her. Yeah, she was fuckable, even if she was filthy right now. Best not kill her cat if he wants her down to clown though.

There was something else about her too though, a desperation and a sadness in her eyes that reminded him of a woman he used to know. It made him feel sorry for her, perhaps even a little protective, or maybe just nostalgic. He sighed to himself, he couldn't just have his fun and be done with her, the guilt afterwards would eat away at him if he let a second woman die.

“Lock the cat in one of the spare rooms,” he decided flippantly, “give it a bowl of water or whatever. Food I guess, I don't know, what ever the fuck cats need. Then bring the lookout to me, find out how she got here. There's gotta be a boat or some shit.”

“On it boss,” Heat replied, leaving the room with the cat still in hand. The woman watched him leave, confused. Why the change of heart? She stopped fighting against the man holding her, eyes flicking back to the redhead who was clearly in charge here. He looked… sad? He looked her in the eye, holding her gaze for a moment, like he was trying to see what her true character was, whether she was worth keeping. There wasn't much the woman could do to convey her worth, she didn't feel she had any.

“Calmed down?” Kid asked gruffly. She looked away and stared at the floor, feeling exposed, the fight completely gone from her. Something about his amber eyes had torn the fight away. Maybe it was because she knew she had no chance of surviving these four men, but maybe if she behaved they would at least be gentle. She could only make assumptions about what four grown pirate men would want with her, let alone the rest of the crew she had yet to see. “Good,” Kid continued, taking her silence as an answer. Wire took it as his signal to let her go, but stayed close, in case she angered again. “What's your name pipsqueak?”

The woman stayed silent, staring at the floor. Why did they care what her name was? What did it matter when she was probably just a toy for them anyway, something to be used and discarded without care. “Speak,” Wire insisted behind her, giving her a short shove and causing her to stumble closer to the captain. She turned and hissed at him, before turning back to Kid with a little more fire in her.

“Nina,” she spat.

“Nina,” Kid repeated, like he was testing how it felt on his tongue, “you wanna join my crew?”

“Huh?” Nina huffed, completely thrown off. She hadn't at all expected that. Killer and Wire exchanged a look, it wasn't like Kid to just offer people a place on his crew, let alone so quickly. Then again, they'd both have to be blind to not see the similarities between this stubborn woman and Victoria. Neither was willing to risk Kid's wrath by pointing it out though, so they both held their tongues.

“What, you got a better plan?” Kid laughed, “seems to me that you're all alone and half dead, but you've got some fire in ya, and lucky for you I have a soft spot for basket cases. So you wanna join or what? Or we can just handle you the way we normally handle rats.”

“I… I guess?” Nina replied hesitantly after giving it some thought. It wasn't like she had a lot of choice here. Worst case, at least she'd be alive, she could always run off at the next island. These men were clearly pirates, she'd seen their ship and their jollyroger, they wouldn't stay settled on this island for long. In the meantime maybe she'd at least have a secure source of food and shelter.

“Good choice,” Kid barked, “Kil, get ‘er cleaned up and set. Welcome to the Kid Pirates, pipsqueak.”

Nina stayed in the shower longer than she probably should have, but the hot water felt good against her irritated skin after so long at sea without access to proper bathing. She let the water wash over her as she stood deep in thought, trying to understand what the fuck had happened. The first mate had brought her to this bathroom, a communal space but he'd promised her privacy as he stood guard outside - whether for her protection or the protection of the crew she wasn't quite sure. It wasn't like she had any weapons on her, Killer had made sure of that before leaving her on her own to shower. She'd told him where to find her boat, and he promised her things would be brought ashore for her. She didn't understand why they were bothering, this all felt like some elaborate trick to get her comfortable before they kill her, maybe to make her death more cruel, or to make her more pliable to their demands.

Killer knocking on the door startled her from her reverie, making her jolt. “Hurry it up, I've got shit to do, new girl,” Killer called from the other side of the door. She quickly shut off the water and dried herself, redressing in the clean clothes Killer had grabbed for her. The last thing she wanted to do was anger anyone and make them change their mind about keeping her alive. The clothes weren't a lot, just a blue men's shirt that was far too large for her, some briefs - also too large but she made do by tying a knot on at the waistband - and a set of fluffy socks. It was certainly better than the torn, dirty clothes she'd been wearing though, which she tossed in a waste bin, there was no point trying to save them.

“You decent?” Killer called again. Nina checked her appearance in the mirror quickly, making sure everything was covered. She scowled at her sunken eyes with their heavy bags, her overgrown hair that was stuck to her scalp from the water, the numerous cuts and scrapes and bruises that littered her body, more visible now that the grime that hid most of them away was gone. Some of them seemed infected, and she winced as she prodded at one particularly inflamed looking cut. With a sigh she called out to Killer that he could come in, and he did so immediately. Moving to a nearby cabinet he pulled out a first aid box, gesturing for her to sit on one of the dressing benches that ran down the center of the bathroom.

He knelt in front of her, the height difference between them meaning they would have been eye to eye if not for the mask, as he sat the first aid kit on the bench and opened it, pulling out several things. “Can I touch you?” He asked, “just to tend to your injuries.”

Nina blinked in confusion, she couldn't even remember the last time someone asked her for consent, let alone cared for her physical wellbeing. “Y-yeah,” she replied in a small voice.

Killer was quiet as he tended to her wounds, carefully cleaning and disinfecting each one before laying a sterlile dressing over them. He applied a soothing ointment over her bruises, and added paper stitches to a few particularly nasty cuts. She sat frozen the whole time, but couldn't help but feel that his light touches against her skin felt nice. It'd been a long time since anyone had been gentle with her. Slowly she let herself relax, closing her eyes and just focusing on the soft touch of his warm fingertips against her skin. She stifled a sigh as his fingers smoothed out the dressing on her nose, momentarily running over the tops of her cheeks before his hands moved on to the next injury. By the time he was done she was covered in small dressings, a few larger palm sized ones here and there.

After discarding the small pile of trash he'd accumulated in the process, he gestured for her to follow him. They met Wire again, who carried a bag with him. Nina recognized it as hers, as the tall man handed it to Killer. “This her stuff?” the first mate asked.

“Yeah, boat was right where she said it would be,” Wire replied, eyes shifting to Nina for a moment as he inspected how many dressings Killer had needed to give her. She was in a worse shape than Wire had initially thought. “Heat put the cat in the room next to Quince. Kid's dealing with the henchie that was on watch.”

“Okay,” Killer replied. Wire nodded and turned to leave, and Killer turned back to Nina. He held the bag out for her to take, and she looked at him befuddled. The chainsaw sticking out of the bag was obvious, and the way the bag was packed looked like nobody had even looked inside. Were they stupid, or were they really giving her a weapon? “You want your shit or not?” Killer asked, jostling the bag a little, and Nina quickly grabbed it back. She slung the bag over her shoulder, and quickly scurried to follow him again, as he'd already begun walking once more.

He opened the door to a spacious room, where her cat, Zap, quickly hobbled over to greet her, rubbing against her leg. She picked him up and gave him a small affectionate squeeze, before looking properly at the room. It was… nice. Really nice, actually. She'd sort of expected an old crusty mattress on the floor and a lock on the outside of her door, but this seemed like an ordinary, nice, bedroom. There was a large bed made up with clean bedding, a big round mirror, dressers and shelves for her things, a big round light hanging from the ceiling that someone had turned on already for Zap - Heat, assumedly. There were even a few bowls on the floor near the dresser - one filled with fresh water, the other dirty with the remnants of whatever meat Zap had been given while Nina was showering.

Looking at the room, Nina suddenly realised that maybe this wasn't a trick. These pirates were being nothing but kind to her and Zap. She'd never even stayed in a room this nice before, not a single piece of furniture looked dirty or broken or worn. It was a safe, welcoming space, and it was all for her. She could fight back, she had her weapon now, but they didn't expect her to, because there was no need. She was safe here, with this crew. Maybe it was fate that her small rickety boat had brought her to this island.

She turned to Killer with a wide smile, the first smile she'd had in months, maybe even years. “Thank you,” she said softly. His heart fluttered a little and he blushed under his mask at her pretty grin, the corners of her eyes creased from it, making the little heart tattoo under her eye dance with the shift of skin.

“Yeah, no problem,” he replied, trying to hide the fluster in his voice. “Uh, get settled in, I'll come grab you close to dinner to show you the dining hall in a few hours.”

He turned and left quickly, leaving the door open, showing her she was not a prisoner here. The second he was gone she put Zap down on the floor, leaned her bag against the dresser, and flopped onto the bed with a giggle. It was soft, and she buried her face in the blankets, which smelled freshly laundered and pleasant. She inhaled the scent, letting out a relieved exhale as she rolled onto her back and relaxed against the blankets. Zap made his best attempt at a jump but fell short, so Nina had to pick him up to put him on the bed, at which point he trilled happily and curled up next to her to sleep. Petting his head gently, she idly stared at the ceiling, noticeably mold and rot free, and let out a contented sigh. For the first time in a long while, Nina felt safe, and like things were finally looking up for her.

Weeks passed, and Nina seemed like she was settling in well. As well as she could anyway, given everything she'd been through. It was clear to the commanders that she'd been lost, feeling like her life had no use, just wandering endlessly trying to find a reason to keep going. Kid and Killer sympathized, they'd felt the same way after Victoria died. They did what they could to give Nina purpose, assigning her as the new ship doctor after learning about her previous work with Dr. Hogback. She wasn't used to working with the living, but she was doing her best to adapt. It gave her a reason to get up every day, knowing these pirates had use for her, especially when they took back to the sea and the rate of injuries increased with the uptick in battles.

Several months passed, seemingly calmly, but Heat was growing suspicious of the new addition. When Nina had turned up on the island it was clear she was under the influence of something strong. Heat had expected more resistance from her as she sobered, but the telltale symptoms of clearing drugs from the veins had never come. Heat was well educated when it came to the hard stuff, he'd been there, he knew the damage it could do. Kid had a strict policy about drugs on the ship because of what they'd all seen from their home island, weed was the hardest thing the crew was allowed. Heat had made it clear to Nina that he grew plenty of cannabis to go around, all she had to do was ask, but she never did. And yet, she still showed the signs of being high - the blown pupils, the jitteriness, the short fuse. Though that last one may have just been her, it was hard to tell.

He had sympathy for her as well though, he didn't want Kid just straight kicking her off the ship when he knew she had nowhere to go, so instead he took his concerns to Killer. The first mate understood the fragility of the situation, and Heat's reservations about bringing it to Kid, so he decided to take care of it himself. Back on the island there were plenty of places one might go to do drugs in secret, especially when she had her own room, but here on the ship, sharing a room with three other crewmates, there were limited places one could hide.

He started covertly watching her, using his haki to follow her movements through the ship. The drugs and her trauma made her paranoid, making the surveillance harder, but Killer was silent on his feet and knew this ship far better than she did. He knew where every creaky floorboard was, every blind spot where he could avoid her gaze, and used them to his advantage. It didn't take long to catch her out, following her to the deck above the stern castle, where crew rarely went. It was after dark, but the full moon gave enough light to navigate by.

He emerged from the ladder leading to the deck as she was tightening a tourniquet around her arm, a syringe held in her mouth ready to inject. She stared at him like a deer in headlights, too slow to react as he rushed at her, grabbing everything he could and throwing it as far away as his muscles would allow. There was a fight for the syringe, her nails clawing at him as she shrieked, but inevitably that was thrown too. She ran to the railing and let out a deafening scream as she watched her drugs disappear under the surface of the water, lost to the ocean, the moonlight glittering against the metal of the syringe needle before it was gone for good. In her anger and drug-craving haze she tried to jump after it, but tight arms around her waist pulled her away from the edge of the deck.

“LET GO OF ME!” she screamed, flailing her legs and scratching his arms as he stepped backwards away from the long fall at the back of the ship that plunged straight to freezing open seas. “YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU'VE DONE!”

“I know exactly what I've done,” Killer growled back, “you know the rules, Kid would have kicked you off for that shit. You want to go back to scavenging for your next meal?”

“You don't understand!” She cried. Her fighting stopped, but she still gripped his arms hard. “I need them, I need them!”

“You don't,” he replied firmly, shifting his hold on her to be more of a hug, letting her feet rest back against the deck. She slumped in his arms, only kept up by him as tears streamed down her face. She didn't know how to be sober anymore, that reality was too hard to even think about. “You don't need that shit, it's poison, I've seen people destroyed by it. It would have killed you.”

“So?” Nina spat indignantly, “who the fuck cares.”

“Don't say that,” Killer sighed, squeezing her a little tighter and pressing his mask against her shoulder. She shivered a little at the brisk night air, but his warm front against her back was a comfort against the cold. “I know you've not been here long, but you have friends. We care about you, we're here for you. You found us for a reason, you belong here with us.”

“I don't- I can't-” she started, feeling helpless.

“I'll help you,” Killer replied, “I'll help you get clean, okay?”

“Okay,” Nina replied in a small voice, not having much choice. Killer held her for a while longer, letting her get out her tears, before walking her back to her room.

“She can't stay with us like this,” Quincy huffed, “she's up all night, tossing and turning, screaming in her sleep! We want her to get clean, we do, but she needs to do it somewhere else! We need sleep!”

Killer slumped down in his chair and let his head loll back, his mask making a ‘clunk’ against the back of the chair as he let out a heavy sigh. He had a feeling this would happen with making Nina go cold turkey, but there was no good solution. He'd considered converting a storage room for her while she sobered, but recent raids had all the rooms full with treasure and weapons, there was no space to even hang a hammock. Quincy was right though, it wasn't fair for the three girls who shared a room with Nina to have to deal with the effects of her sobering up, especially when the worst was still to come.

“I'll sort it,” Killer grunted. There was really only one solution he could see here, and he hated it, but it wouldn't be forever. He stood and marched past Quincy, making his way to where he knew Nina would be. He found her exactly as expected, and he knelt next to her bed, pulling back the blankets that she'd pulled over her head.

“Fuck off,” Nina growled, not even turning to look at him. She was shivering like she was freezing, her skin clammy with sweat.

“Pack your shit,” Killer tried his best to reply in a gentle manner, “you're moving room.”

Nina took some convincing to get out of bed, while in the meantime Killer gathered her things. Zap squeaked as Killer picked him up, Nina's duffle in his other hand; the cat hardly left her side, especially while she'd been essentially bedridden. Nina unwillingly followed him bare foot in her pajamas across the deck and up the stairs, pausing as she realised she was being led into the stern castle where the commanders all resided. “I'm… staying here?” She asked hesitantly, raising her hand to block the sunlight that was hurting her eyes.

“You're taking my room, while you get sober,” Killer explained, giving her a small push on her lower back to get her moving again, “I'll stay with Kid in the meantime.”

“You don't have to do that,” she said in a small voice as he opened the door to his room and dumped her stuff on the floor, placing Zap on the bed. He didn't like knowing there was going to be cat chair all over his usually spotless room, but there wasn't much that could be done without upsetting Nina by seperating her from the only thing that seemed to give her comfort right now.

“I do, actually,” Killer sighed, “the girls can't sleep with your current condition and it's only going to get worse. It's not forever, just until you're clean. Just… don't fuck my room up, okay? I'll be across the hall if you need anything, I cleared the top drawers for your stuff, bathroom is through that door.”

Nina was already climbing under his blankets as he explained everything, more than exhausted from the short walk and wanting to go back to sleep, where her head didn't feel like it was going to split open. Killer took the time to fill a bowl with water for Zap, Quincy had been essentially caring for the cat while Nina was sick anyway, so he guessed that was his job now. He made a mental note to go grab the litter box and food bowl, before sighing to himself and leaving Nina to brood.

Killer quickly understood why the girls had needed their space from Nina. The crew quarters were far from the stern castle, so he couldn't hear her before, but now that she was across the hall her screaming was loud and clear. “Shut her up,” Kid growled as he rolled over, covering his head with a pillow. Against his will, Killer climbed out of bed and slipped on his mask, sleepily making his way across the hall, barefooted in his blue gingham pajama pants. Wire opened his door down the hall and gave Killer a look as though to ask if he needed help, but Killer waved him off before reaching for the handle to what was usually his bedroom door.

Inside the room, chaos had ensued. He noted Zap hiding under the dresser as Nina threw things around, narrowly missing Killer with a lamp. She let out a blood curdling scream at him, and he wondered if she was even seeing him, or something monstrous in his place. It was a likely scenario that she was fighting some invisible demon, hallucinations brought on by her withdrawal. He grabbed her before he could hurt him or herself, pinning her arms to her front as he held her from behind. “Shh, I got you,” Killer soothed, “it's Kil, there's only the two of us here, you're safe on the Victoria Punk, nobody is going to hurt you.”

Nina was panting hard, drenched with sweat and shaking, but she at least stopped screaming, and stopped fighting him. “There you go, you're okay,” he said softly, loosening his hold a little, “I've got you. Just breathe.”

“Killer,” she whimpered, like she was remembering herself, “I'm so scared. And it hurts, so much.”

“I know, I know,” Killer shushed, pulling her to the bed and into his lap as he sat. He rocked her gently as she continued to make small sad whimpers. “We're gonna get through this.”

“Will you stay with me?” She mumbled against his chest. She was struggling to discern what was real and what wasn't, and she felt like she couldn't defend herself against that. She needed someone with her, who could help her see that the awful things she were seeing were all in her head. Killer considered it for a moment. He would be uncomfortable, unable to take his mask off to sleep, but right now it was clear Nina needed a friend, or she might not make it through this.

“I'll stay,” Killer replied. Nina breathed a shaky sigh of relief and nestled into him, letting him hold her like a scared child as she tried to ground herself. Eventually he convinced her to lay back down to sleep, but he never let go of her, letting her use him like an anchor as the hallucinations threatened to steal her sanity away and her body ached from exhaustion.

Killer woke with a startle, feeling his pants being tugged at, putting him into fight or flight. He threw the covers off to find Nina weakly and desperately trying to get his pants further down, her small hand wrapped around Killer's semi-erect cock. He quickly grabbed her hand and tried to pull her away, but she rushed back towards him. He jumped off the bed as he pulled his pants back up, and she scrambled after him like a woman possessed, kneeling at his feet and tugging at his pants again while he gripped them hard to keep them up.

“NINA, WHAT THE FUCK?” he growled, trying to get away from her as she crawled after him, a crazed look in her eyes.

“Please, I need one more hit, just one more,” Nina pleaded, “let me trade for it, please, please. I'll suck your dick, I'll make you feel so good, please I just want one more hit then I'll get sober, I promise. Please I can make it worth it for you, I'm really good, please!”

“Not fucking happening,” Killer snapped, “Nina stop, I'm not giving you more drugs.”

“Please, please,” she pleaded. She collapsed at his feet, tears falling to the floor as she clawed at his pants. “I can't do this, what's the point? Why am I even trying?”

Killer fell to his feet in front of her, taking her face in his hands. “Nina, look at me,” he growled, “look at me.”

“How can I fucking look at you?!” She cried, “I can't even see your face! I don't even know what fucking colour your eyes are!”

Killer sighed and gathered all his mental fortitude. He should have seen that coming, it was only fair. “You want a trade? I'll make you a trade,” he replied in a low voice. Nina perked up, hopeful that he was caving. She was desperate for another rush, she felt miserable and alone and everything hurt, just one more hit and everything would feel okay, she just knew it. He saw the hope in her eyes and hated to snuff it out, but it was a necessary evil. “I'm not getting you more meth,” Killer sighed, “I can get you weed, but nothing more. But I'll make you a deal. You get sober, and I'll show you my face.”

Nina blinked at him, disappointed and confused. “The thing is, only Kid, Heat and Wire ever see my face,” Killer sighed, “I get that you don't feel like you can trust me, when I'm not even letting you see all of me. But I don't like my face, I don't like my smile. I don't let anyone see it, except the people I trust the most. Showing my face is the hardest thing I can do, but I know right now you're going through something really fucking hard too. So I'll make you a deal. You be brave, and I'll be brave too. I know right now it hurts, and everything is terrifying and you feel like the whole world is against you, but it's not. I'm right here, you don't have to do this alone.”

“Kil..” Nina sobbed, falling forward and letting him wrap his arms around her.

Things had to get worse before they got better, and get worse they did. Nina was reduced to a screaming, writhing mess, consumed by hallucinations and crying out for someone to either kill her, or let her have one more hit. She started refusing meals, until she became too weak to refuse and gave in, letting Killer hold her while he carefully spoon fed her. He became her full time carer, helping her to the bathroom and bathing her when it couldn't be avoided any longer. She practically lived in his shirts now, oversized on her but his familiar scent gave her comfort whenever he had to leave her to attend to his first mate duties. She never left the room, never left the bed without his assistance, she just tossed and turned and screamed all day, except when he was holding her. With him there, things were easier. He grounded her, made it easier to tell what was real and what wasn't. After several nights of running to her room at well past midnight, he'd given in to her pleas to stay with her, despite how uncomfortable he was sleeping with his mask on. She curled around his body every night like a koala clinging to a tree, whimpering in her sleep, but at least having him there was a balm for the screaming.

Killer got used to waking up with her limbs tangled with his, so when he woke up to find her not there, panic set in immediately. “Nina?” He called in fear, worried that she'd done something stupid, “Nina, you in the bathroom?”

When no reply came he jumped out of bed, flinging open the bathroom door to find the room empty. Scared for her safety, he ran out of the bedroom, opening his haki to search for her. He felt her on the opposite side of the ship, in the deck held between the jaws of the skull that decorated the front of the ship. He ran full speed to her, jumping to skip the sets of stairs that led to the stern castle, his heart racing faster than he thought it could. Only once before had his heart beat so hard, when Kid had laid lifeless on the battlefield after losing his arm, Killer not knowing if he was alive or dead.

He came to a sudden stop as he finally reached her, calling for her between heavy breaths. She turned, startled, brows raised in surprise. “Kil?” She asked, “everything okay?”

“You, you weren't in bed,” he huffed between breaths, “I thought- I thought something was wrong.”

Nina lowered the mug she was holding in both hands, using the heat from the drink inside to warm her hands against the cold morning breeze. It was early, the sun barely risen over the horizon, the sky tinted with greens and deep blues. A blanket was wrapped loosely around her shoulders, hanging over her stolen shirt that hung loosely from her frame, property of Killer, and old sweatpants from when he was thinner, though she still had to tie them as tight as they could go. “I was watching the sunrise,” Nina explained, confused as to why he was so flustered, his chest heaving still, “sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.”

“You're… feeling okay?” Killer asked, eyeing the drink in her hands, wondering if there was some trick to this. She noticed the subtle tilt of his mask and followed his line of sight.

“It's just tea,” Nina explained, “I don't think I made it right though, there's so many bits in it. My head was feeling clear, so I thought I'd get some fresh air before everyone woke up. Still have a headache a little, but I think I'm okay.”

“Bits?” Killer mumbled. He didn't think they had loose leaf tea on the ship. Unless…”Nina, did you open the tea bag?”

“Yes?” She replied, furrowing her brows. Killer snorted, grabbing the railing for support as he accidentally let out a genuine, unsupressed laugh. “What? Are you laughing at me? I didn't even know you laughed.”

“I don't,” Killer wheezed, “but that's, fuck, you said you were bad at cooking but who the fuck can't manage tea?”

Nina lightened up at Killer's laughter and let herself giggle, pouring the tea out over the railing next to where Killer was trying to rein himself in. With one last deep inhale he contained himself, standing straight and looking at her next to him. She was smiling back up at him, and he realised suddenly that there was no mockery in her expression. She'd heard his real laugh, and hadn't given any inclination that she disliked it. He turned to her, standing tall, before reaching back to the latch on his mask and releasing it. She made a soft gasp as he pulled it off his head, his bangs falling into place over his icy blue eyes, his lips stained with the remnants of purple lipstick, his cheekbones sharp and defined. She barely had time to take him in before he pulled her by her nape and cover her lips with his.

She made a confused whine, before closing her eyes and pressing back against him, letting the blanket on her shoulders fall to the deck as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and wove her hand through his long hair. He only kissed her for a moment before realising how crazy this was and pulling away. “Fuck, sorry,” he said bashfully as he stepped back. Nina's arms followed him, falling to rest against his chest. He looked out at the ocean, feeling self conscious and embarrassed for letting himself be so undisciplined.

“Don't be,” she replied softly, running a hand up his neck to cup his face. He hesitated to look at her, until her thumb ran over his lips. “So pretty,” she whispered, mostly to herself. He looked at her then, saw how her eyes glittered with genuine awe and affection, and he felt his heart swell. A breeze ran through the ship and she shivered, distracted for a moment from absorbing every facet of his face.

“You're cold,” he stated, rubbing her bare arm with his free hand to try and give her some warmth. She murmured in agreement but never looked away from him. “Come on,” he said as he put his mask back on, “let's go back to bed and get you warmed up.”

She let him take her hand and lead her, the two of them moving silently save for their footsteps, an unexpected electricity running through them where their fingers threaded together. Both of their hearts were racing at the unspoken promise of what waited for them back in the bedroom. Nina was nervous though, she'd never slept with a man in a intimate way, she'd only ever done it for money when things were desperate. None of those experiences had been pleasant for her, and she didn't know if she even wanted this. She wanted him though, that much she knew for certain, so maybe it would be different this time.

The door shut behind her and latched, and she felt herself starting to panic. Killer approached her from behind, letting his mask fall to the floor, but paused as he heard her quickening breath. “You okay?” He asked softly, “we don't have to do anything, you know. We can just lay under the blankets, get warm, talk if you want to.”

“Sorry, I'm fine,” Nina lied.

“You're not,” Killer sighed, seeing right through her facade, “It's okay, I know my laugh, my smile, they're not pleasant. You don't have to force yourself.”

Nina's breath hitched and she spun to face him, taking his face in her hands, her own discomfort forgotten for his. “It's not you, Kil, I promise, okay?” She soothed, running her thumbs over his cheeks. She took a deep breath and tried to be brave, not wanting Killer to be hurt by her own insecurities, “It's just. I've only ever slept with men for money.”

“Oh,” Killer replied quietly. He covered her hands with her own, closing his eyes for a moment as he pressed harder against her soft palms, “We don't have to do anything. We can take our time. It'd be different though, I'd be gentle with you. I want to be gentle with you.”

“I want that too,” Nina replied timidly, “I want you, Kil.”

“You have me,” he replied before pressing his lips to hers again, “all of me, if that's what you want.”

Nina kissed him hard, giving him her answer, and he replied in equal fervour. He walked her backwards to the bed as their hands tangled in each other's hair. He groaned as she gave his hair a tug, and she took the opportunity to plunge her tongue into his mouth. Kissing him felt good, and she found herself pressing hard against his body, whining as his erection pressed against her stomach. She let herself fall backwards, pulling him with her, their mouths still connected.

Nina tugged on his shirt, and they broke the kiss so she could pull it over his head, quickly followed by him removing her shirt. She giggled in anticipation before his lips captured hers again, the giggle turning to a moan as he kissed along her jaw and down her neck, taking handfuls of her small breasts and rolling her nipples between his thumbs and pointer fingers as his mouth made a trail down her front to them. Her whole body felt sensitive as he took a tit in his mouth, laving it with his tongue and flicking the pert bud with the tip. Her back arched off the bed as he kissed further down, his knees falling to rest on the floor as his lips worshipped her belly.

He looked up at her with puppy dog eyes, seeking wordless permission as his fingers tugged at the waistband to her borrowed pants. Nina bit her lip and nodded. She'd never even had a man go down on her and was eager to feel his mouth on her cunt. She raised her ass for him and he removed her pants and underwear, returning his mouth to her tummy and continuing his journey downwards. He nosed at her pink pubes as she spread her legs for him, and he pulled her thighs to rest on his shoulders, kissing each inner thigh before pressing his nose to her core and inhaling her scent. He groaned before finally bringing his tongue out to meet her, making her let out a long deep moan as he ran the wet muscle between her folds.

It wasn't often Killer got to eat pussy, in fact he couldn't remember the last time he'd done it with a woman watching him. Her eyes were squarely focused on him as he began to eat her out, his eyes locked with hers as he rolled his tongue over her clit with practiced precision. She gave in and let herself fall back against the bed, weaving a hand through his hair and letting herself relax as he worked, melting into the mattress at the feeling of his mouth on her pussy. She'd never let herself feel her pleasure with a man, it'd always been so strictly transactional, no man had ever even considered her pleasure, but Killer was drunk on it. He made satisfied groans as he ate her out, squeezing her thighs to hold her in place as she bucked and moaned, the vibrations of his pleased sounds adding to her pleasure. He released one thigh to bring one hand up under his chin, running the tip of his index finger around her entrance before sinking it into her pussy.

“Oh fuck~” Nina groaned, legs shaking as she came suddenly at the intrusion, “Kil~”

Killer grinned and kissed her pussy tenderly before climbing up her body. She shuffled backwards to make space and he straddled over her, watching her face intently as he sunk two fingers inside her. She whined and gripped the arm that was keeping him supported hovering above her. Her other hand ran over his chest, enjoying the tight muscles and curves, before it ran further down and under the waistband of his pants. He grunted as she wrapped her hand around his cock and began to pump him, matching the pace he was using on her. He added a third finger to her and the two of them made sloppy, desperate kisses as they jerked each other off.

“Kil,” Nina panted, “want you, please.”

Killer groaned and was quick to comply. As much as he hated to admit it, his dreams had been haunted by Nina ever since she'd woken him up that morning. With the added unexpected emotions on top, he was desperate to sink inside her, but he didn't want to pressure her. Hearing her beg for him had him ready to cum right there and then. “You sure?” He queried.

“I'm sure,” she confirmed huskily. He stripped his pants quickly and settled himself between her legs, taking himself in his hand. “Wait,” she pressed a hand to his chest, “can I… can I do it?”

Killer understood that she was nervous for a good reason, this position no doubt reminded her of some unsavory memories. He grabbed her hips and rolled both of them so she was on top, straddling him. She made a surprised gasp as they rolled, sitting up to sit over his cock as they stilled. She gave an experimental roll, grinding her cunt against his shaft, making them both whine at the friction. She reached between her legs and stroked him a few times before lining him up with her entrance. He was big, and she worried he wouldn't even fit, so she sank down slowly. Her body was more than willing though, more aroused than she'd ever been with a man and well prepared by him, so she was able to take all of him, whimpering as her thighs met his pelvis. She stayed still there for a moment, eyes closed in concentration as she took in how full she was and how good it felt.

Killer was meanwhile using all his willpower to not immediately thrust up into her, overwhelmed by how hot and wet she was sitting atop him, his cock entirely disappeared inside her. He gripped her thighs and groaned impatiently, desperate for her to move before his resolve could snap. Finally she opened her eyes again, suddenly feeling powerful as she looked down at the strong man underneath her. She rolled her hips with purpose, mouth falling open and moans spilling from her lips as she rode him, experimenting with a few different motions and hip angles before she found the one that felt the best for her.

“There you go,” Killer praised as his fingertips sunk into her thighs, “just like that, princess.”

Her moans synchronized with his grunts as she rolled her hips, Killer immensely turned on as he watched the way Nina took back her power and used him for her pleasure. Her hands ran over his chest, playing with his nipples and groping his pecks, before she leaned down and kissed him hard. “Kil,” she groaned, her energy fading, “fuck me, please.”

Killer planted his feet and thrust up into her, making her scream and bury her face against his shoulder. He gripped her ass and held her steady above him as he fucked up into her, her pussy making wet squelches as she whined against his neck, hot breath making his skin damp. She tangled her hands through his hair and pulled hard for support as her body was jostled, moaning directly in his ear, making it hard for Killer to not immediately cum. “Kil,” she huffed, “feels good, so close~”

“Cum for me, princess,” Killer groaned, “fuck, cum on my cock, please, I need it.”

“Ah, ah, cumming~” Nina cried, her cunt clamping down around Killer. He whined as he kept pumping her, trying to work her entirely through it, before pulling out and jerking himself off over his own stomach.

“Fuck,” he grunted as Nina collapsed against him, the two of them a panting mess as cum and sweat transferred between their bodies, Nina still twitching occasionally in her afterglow. She kissed his cheek tenderly as she came back to earth before he turned his face to meet her, the two of them sharing a intimate, gentle kiss, his hand running through her overgrown hair that was usually shaved short.

“Thank you,” she said softly as she nuzzled in to the crook of his neck, “for taking care of me, for being there. For trusting me with with your face.”

“Thank you for trusting me as well,” Killer kissed the side of her head, holding her tight to him, “the hard part is over, you're gonna be okay now.”

“Yeah, I think I am,” she agreed sleepily.

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whatevermakesyoubreak · 4 months ago

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🔪❤️‍🔥 a few (lot) of my personal illumi sfw/nsfw headcanons:

> these are strictly regarding my illumi x oc [ft. hisoka and chrollo] fic, sic infit, (which is essentially succession ft. the zoldyck’s & a bit of a romcom starring illumi), so yes— some of these will be ooc & a few of them include lira so if u don’t like her, keep scrolling idk.

- actually has the most unhinged sense of humor. sassy as FUCK but it’s hard to tell because he speaks as if he’s being completely serious. he finds a lot of things funny— especially things he shouldn’t— but just doesn’t express it unless he absolutely cannot keep a straight face anymore. (we all remember his goddamn sea lion laughing face, right?)

- is actually quite dense when it comes to anything besides assassination. not at all stupid, just… dense.

- however, illumi is a man with a plan if nothing else. he rarely if ever will go into a situation with no preparation, research, etc.

- he likes movies! all genres too— anything from thrillers, comedy, art house, classics, horror, romantic comedies, dramas, foreign films, etc— he likes them all, but only if they meet his standards. (i.e, he hates slasher films because he finds them unrealistic, some films are too artsy for him, and he has trouble understanding some romantic dramas). his favorite series is the Hellraiser series— he took lots of inspiration from Pinhead. (the movie him and Lira were watching in chapter 2 was Requiem For A Dream!)

- this motherfucker has a DIRTY mouth. i firmly believe that he cannot form a single thought without there being some form of profanity involved. however, he doesn’t express this unless he feels comfortable around someone, i.e, Lira, Hisoka, his family. he’s a master of code switching when around upper-class people, but goddamn— Kikyo should’ve been washing his mouth out with soap instead of stringing him up tbh.

- that dirty mouth of his carries over to… other areas as well. says the FOULEST, FILTHIEST and NASTIEST things during sex & you wouldn’t expect it at ALL.

- hair pulling and boobs. that is all.

- switch. enough said.

- speaking of sex, he’s hung like a fucking horse & knows it.

- also, that stoic, inexpressive & unemotional exterior of his? yeah, that shatters like glass the second this man gets horny. like he fully gets stuuupid cock/pussydrunk. he can’t even think properly anymore. he’s feral— slurring his words, drooling, begging— you name it, all while saying the filthiest shit. once he’s there, he’s there. y’all don’t wanna hear me you just wanna dance, but he’s a mess. he’s so repressed otherwise there’s no alternative than but to be the epitome of actual depravity.

- when he subs, he is a big baby, whiny, brat boy who wants to be used, bullied, and to also be told how pretty he is. he wants it messy too— as filthy and depraved as possible. he’s a fucking perv lowkey.

- when he doms, he doms— but not in your average ways— he definitely likes manhandling his partner as well as when there’s a considerable size difference (like Lira’s short ass lmao), because he likes the literal primal feeling of control it gives him.

- contrary to popular belief, i think he’d enjoy a bit of attitude as well from his partner— just so he could condescend the fuck out of them— of course. “what happened to, ‘more Illu,’ and, ‘please, Illu?’ I thought you wanted me like this...” could be considered a brat tamer?? maybe??

- as i said, he’s a huge dirty talker, but he’s more patronizing and condescending than outright derogatory. he’s also surprisingly good with giving praise, but if HE’S getting praised? gg’s goodnight & goodbye— that man is now officially whipped.

- he has an oral fixation & is an absolute MUNCH/THROAT GOAT. and he’s sloppppyyyyy with it too omg. (this is literally canon, cuz why tf was he licking those needles???)

- simultaneously has a breeding kink and is TERRIFIED to knock someone up before marriage. oh, illumi.

- a true bisexual, and has no preference. it truly depends on the person for him.

- mommy issues & daddy issues. like… bad. like… the enmeshment and parentification are real with this one.

- genuinely hates his father but can’t admit it to himself. he won’t even allow himself to think that way. it would literally make his brain explode from the cognitive dissonance.

- fairly indifferent towards his mother, but subconsciously latches on to any sort of nurturing/female care he can get due to never receiving it as a child. this shows heavily in the speed of development with his relationship with Lira.

- even though he does not like his father, he appreciates how his father and mother’s relationship functions. he ultimately respects women— perhaps to the point of putting them on a pedestal.

- i think he’s actually a bit of a romantic in the way he wants to do everything regarding his partner(s), especially with how badly he wants children and a family of his own— it’s just very very verrrryyyyy repressed & tainted with darkness and possession. but, once he loves, he loves for life. in his own illumi way, of course.

- he’s a heavy drinker. he’s not an alcoholic, but he definitely drinks more than he should, especially after jobs. prefers scotch on the rocks to anything else, but absolutely will not turn down a fruity/sweet drink either. someone please give this man a pina colada.

- drunk illumi is a menace to society, and he has to consume quite a bit of liquor in order to get there— hence why it rarely happens— but once he’s inebriated, that man is the most unfiltered and clingy bastard there is. there is nothing keeping him from speaking his mind at this point and it’s either offensive or hilarious depending on who u are.

- eats like an amusement park raccoon when he’s away from home. literally no idea how he’s so strong when his diet is 80% sugar, 10% booze, and 10% grease.

- doesn’t actually spend that much time on his hair. uses very high-quality products, but otherwise, he’s just genetically blessed. he can let that shit air dry.

- he DOES care about his hair though— when Lira singed the ends, he was PISSED. he also cares a lot about the rest of his appearance. he likes being called pretty— why wouldn’t he keep up with his looks?

- he likes when she braids his hair. sometimes they wear matching twin french or dutch braids while training. Kalluto is lowkey jealous because his hair is too short to join in.

- he has a skill for applying makeup & wigs on himself and others. before he mastered his abilities, he used to disguise himself the old fashioned way.

- he secretly really wants to dress Lira up like his own personal doll, i.e, do her makeup, hair, pick her outfit, etc. not for any weird control reasons, but genuinely because he thinks she’d be cute. he values his life too much to ever tell her this.

- illumi is actually not the best at hand-to-hand combat. he’s an assassin, not a fighter. his job is to kill, not win. by no means is he unskilled, but when compared to others who ARE masterful close quarters combatants, i.e, Lira, he is only above average. (only ‘above average’ like that’s supposed to be bad lmao)

- has an eidetic memory & pretends to forget things in order to catch people in lies.

- is actually not as socially inept or awkward as he comes off. he’s had to do his fair share of seduction and deception in his line of work, so he knows how to charm people to an extent if he really wants to.

- however… his version of flirting with someone he actually likes is staring at them very hard from across a room. he thinks this is him being obvious btw.

- he likes to watch the clouds in his spare time. literally for no reason. he just finds it relaxing. he also likes the sun, contrary to his appearance.

- he does a lot of things for no reason, tbh. he feels rather lost without having someone to assassinate, due to any drastic sort of individuality being discouraged during his upbringing and never really having developed a hobby, so besides stalking Killua, occasionally entertaining Hisoka, and before he met Lira, he tended to do random things in his spare time on a whim.

- he doesn’t like the ocean, snow, or rain, particularly because he hates being cold and wet at the same time. kind of like a cat. has heated bathroom floors for this reason.

- he doesn’t kill for pleasure. he lacks the sadistic tendencies that people like Hisoka, Lira, & Kalluto have. he simply kills because it’s his job, he likes money, & he sees it as his duty as a Zoldyck.

- he is actually a lot more rational and compassionate than he lets on. compassionate may be the wrong word— he just tries to give his targets quick deaths and doesn’t prefer to see anyone suffer unless they’ve angered him. he also won’t kill anyone if he deems it pointless or isn’t getting paid.

- however— he will do anything, and i mean ANYTHING to get what he wants. very machiavellian in nature when he’s focused.

- he doesn’t consider Lira or Hisoka to be distractions even though they quite literally are. he’s a hypocrite, but we all love him for it.

- his love language is gift giving. he will buy someone he cares about anything they look at for more than two seconds.

- he also values quality time. he will follow Lira around like a cat just saying and doing nothing, only wanting to be around her.

- he wants to get married. like, actually married, not just killing-contract married.

- he also wants children. plural.

- scorpio sun, capricorn rising, cancer moon. (ooooh that moon/rising opposition SHOWS)

- can be somewhat traditional when it comes to gender roles, which is rather ironic given his choice in partner(s). he believes it’s the man’s job to protect and provide, and has no issue doing so, even if it’s done in the most deranged ways.

- he cannot remember the majority of his childhood, only bits here and there.

- ptsd? more like P! T! S! D!

- he likes people that can get under his skin. he enjoys banter.

- notices everything, and i mean EVERYTHING. he is extremely observant, but quietly and carefully holds on to the information/patterns he sees— just in case he needs to use that information against someone.

- he has EXPENSIVE taste— forget designer, i’m talking custom made couture and shit like that. designer to him is like loungewear.

- he actually prefers dogs to cats. he wouldn’t be opposed to having a smaller dog of his own one day, but can’t currently because Mike would eat it. he doesn’t hate cats, however, he just doesn’t like how they all seem to want to play with his hair.

- actually, i think he rather likes all animals. not in a Lira-esque “i love animals because it’s fun to imagine what they’d look like with no skin,” type of way, but actually likes them.

- while he likes most animals, he has an irrational hatred of birds. literally zero reason for this. maybe jealousy?

- he values usefulness and patience in his partners and also finds their homicidal tendencies exasperating, especially Lira’s. he does not want a weak partner, nor a victim.

- when it comes to his relationships, he is very very possessive, to the point where it should be scary. however, Lira is also insane and just finds it sweet.

- while obsessive and possessive, he has absolutely no interest in abusing his partner in any way. the thought itself disgusts him. he didn’t see his father do that to his mother outside of training, so why would he ever do that to his own partner?

- when it comes to his partner, he wants to see them happy and safe, not insecure and miserable. like, he saw Lira get insecure ONE time and almost self-destructed and proceeded to basically glitch in order to change her mood.

- he would rather be alone than with someone who didn’t meet his standards.

- he’s either really good at communication or really fucking bad. no in-between.

- he’s not a big cuddler— he’s the type to just lay his entire body weight on top of someone— but just because it feels nice to him. he doesn’t really care if he’s smothering the other person— if he chose them, they should be strong enough for him, right? he does make an exception occasionally and allows Lira to hold him, but that’s typically for access to her boobs… so. he prefers having her sit in his lap, or alternatively, sitting in Hisoka’s lap himself.

- his hair moves on its own a lot— not only when he’s angry, but also whenever he’s feeling anything intense, i.e. lust, euphoria, etc. it can range from the way it whips around when he’s bloodlusted to just stirring as if he’s standing in a gentle breeze.

- hates wearing shirts at home. he’s in expensive lounge pants and nothing else— maybe a tank top and crewneck sweatshirt if he absolutely has to— but other than that? shirtless lumi always.

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strawwritesfic · 4 months ago

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Joel x Female!Amputee!Reader: (Don't) Hold Your Breath [Ch. 7]

Summary: You’ve made a lot of monumental mistakes in your life. Cutting your arm off isn’t even at the top of the list. Now you’re about to learn a lot of life lessons at the hands of your savior and her brute of a guardian–and they’re not about to let you learn them the easy way either.

Challenge: "#32 in His Rulebook" by Edible Heart Monster on Lunaescence Archives

Rating/Warnings/Tags: M (post-The Last of Us; excessive swearing; sexual references; violence against children; infected children; references to abortion; references to cannibalism; references to starvation; references to riots; implied domestic abuse; implied grooming; implied sexual relationship between an adult and a minor; death of a parent; violence; gore; blood; gun use; ableism; amputee!Reader; enemies to lovers; not canon compliant)

Pairings/Relationships: Joel/Female!Reader; Tommy/Maria; Reader/Male!OC; Ellie & Reader; Ellie & Joel; Ellie & Maria & Tommy

Tag List: @imaginesfire

Master List (with important note!)

Rule #7: First impressions are important, so don't be yourself.

It didn’t take long to get used to Ellie waking you up by forcing herself into your room. That didn’t mean you had to like it. Two weeks into your stay at Jackson, and it was pretty clear she didn’t have any shits to give in regard to personal space, and it didn’t help that all the adults in her family typically let her have the run of things. You tried your hardest to get her in line, but you might as well have been swearing at the corn crops for all the good it did.

“Oh, just save it,” Ellie said one morning. “In case you’ve forgotten, you actually have to start working today, and unless you want kicked out, you can’t miss your clock-in time.”

“Who said I didn’t want kicked out?” you groaned as you threw your good arm over your eyes. Even without looking, though, you knew Ellie would be scowling at that. She tugged at your shoulders a second or tow later.

“I already let you skip breakfast.”

“Who are you, my fucking mother?”

“No, I’m your personal fucking alarm clock ‘cause you can’t be half-assed to get up in the morning. Come on.” She tugged harder. Luckily, you were a bit too heavy for her to properly move, else you might have fallen on top of her. At last, you moved your arm.

“Fine. Get out so I can get dressed.”

Ellie huffed, stood, and crossed her arms for only a moment before she turned as quickly as she could in the close quarters of your “room.” “Fine, but if you’re not out in five minutes, I’m coming back in, tits or no tits.”

You didn’t bother to sit up until the door snicked shut behind her. No doubt Ellie was still standing out there and would make good on her promise to barge in as soon as she decided you’d gone back to sleep. That didn’t make your movements any less syrupy as you gathered up your spare set of clothing and began to tug off the one you already had on.

Your missing arm didn’t make getting dressed any easier. You still kept trying to do things with it. Unfortunately, this made you look stupid on top of incompetent. There weren’t a lot of helpful jobs you could do in your current state. Cooking, cleaning, farming, scavenging, keeping watch—they all required two hands, or at least more grace than you could manage in your current state. Your attitude—most likely—didn’t help matters, which was probably why Tommy had looked so tired the night before.

“I really can’t think of anything other than helping out with the kids. I know you don’t like them,” he’d added, “but you haven’t really taken to anything else.

“What the fuck am I supposed to teach them if I can’t do anything?”

“You survived on your own for a few years, right?”

“I still don’t have a fucking arm.”

“Ellie can help you.”

Fantastic. So not only did he expect you to interact with human beings decades younger than those you found acceptable, but one such human being was going to do everything while you stood there and presumably directed. Unfortunately, Ellie took this job very seriously.

By the time those memories finished parading through your head, your borrowed jeans and long-sleeved shirt were where you meant them to be. The sleeve around your stump dangled several inches below where your arm ended, a hazard if you’d ever seen one—but you were too proud to ask Ellie to tie it up higher for you, even when you opened the door five seconds later to find her leaning against the opposite wall. She straightened and quickly caught up as you strode down the still-dim hallway.

Outside, the sun had barely risen. The sky was still the calming lavender-blue of not-quite dawn. Well, anywhere else, it would have been calming. If you got up early enough, everything was quiet. It was easier to hear the runners, the clickers, even the stalkers when the rest of the world was silent. You could slip in and out, find items, lose items, find people, lose people. In Jackson, everyone was already up, already watching.

One such woman, a blonde from your disastrous attempt at kitchen duty the day before, brushed past you with a glare that might have melted marble. Ellie’s eyebrows rose at that.

“Yikes,” she said.

You didn’t respond.

“So, are you nervous?”

“No,” you said flatly, because you were.

What was there to be nervous about, talking to a bunch of grade-schoolers, or their parents that thought you had something to do with that little runner mishap a few weeks back? You felt nervous, and you felt irritated, at your stupid arm, at Ellie’s stupid enthusiasm, and your stupid fucking situation. You almost missed numb—almost.

“You’re nervous,” she said. “Why are you nervous? Didn’t you go to school?”

“I went to high school. I didn’t even get to graduate, and that has jack shit to do with teaching a bunch of eight-year-olds how to get themselves slaughtered in the woods.”

“They’re not going to get slaughtered. Quit being so melodramatic,” said Ellie. “Besides, high school was at least something. I wish I could have gone to a real school.”

“Trust me, kid. It didn’t help at all.”

“Trust me, bitch. It would’ve meant something.”

“Listen, you little—”

“Do you really wanna finish that sentence?” came a gruff, familiar voice from behind you.

Slowly, you turned to gaze sullenly up at Joel. Ellie, of course, had the opposite reaction.

“Hey!” she said with a slight bounce. “I thought you had watch duty today.”

“I do,” he answered. “I’m watching her.”

“Me?” you repeated when Joel didn’t so much as look at you.

It’d been like that since the meeting a couple weeks back. You hadn’t seen him outside of meals, and even then, he ignored you. At that very moment, however, Joel’s eyes flashed in your direction.

“Yes, you.”

“What did I do?”

“From what I hear, you tried to stab a woman in the kitchen yesterday.”

“Because she said I was fucking useless!”

“You are useless,” Joel said. “You going to try and take my head off, too?”

God, if only. But you knew enough to not pick fights you couldn’t win, and Joel was more armed than you were in every sense of the word. You scowled as you looked down at your boots. “No…”

“I didn’t think so.”

Your troop fell into silence as you neared the gate. Someone must have warned the people manning in that day that class was being held outside, and that Joel would be accompanying the group, because no one asked you anything before the doors ground open.

“Now, I don’t know if I need to say this,” he continued in a sarcastically light tone, “but if you try to stab the kids, you’re out. The only reason you’re not out after yesterday is—”

“Because I’m fucking useless and she managed to beat the crap out of me herself. I know. Tommy already said. Give it a rest.”

Joel paused long enough to look at you, then snorted and continued on his way. Ellie soon fell into step beside you.

“Did you really try to stab somebody?” she asked.

You didn’t answer.

“Jeez. You’ve really got a death wish, don’t you?”

“And you just keep prolonging it coming true,” you said.

Ellie no longer seemed in the mood to trade banter. She scowled. “Don’t be like that around the rest of the kids, okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” you said. “I’ll give that a shot.”

“I’m serious,” Ellie said fiercely, and suddenly she was in front of you, arms thrown out.

You frowned at her, and then heaved a sigh. “What does it matter?”

She took a deep breath to compose herself, which only caused your frown to deepen. On the other hand, stopping to talk to Ellie prevented you from getting to class, so you were more willing than usual to give her thinking time. After a prolonged moment, her eyes found yours. “First impressions are important.”

“So?”

“So don’t be yourself.”

With that cryptic comment, Ellie bounded after Joel. Despite her long strides, she made barely any noises as her feet covered the hardened earth. You rolled your eyes and followed after. As you drew nearer to the electric fence (which was, thankfully, not on that day), you spotted a knot of people standing by the gate. Next to them stood another man of Joel’s proportions, who nodded upon spotting Joel, and walked back up the plant.

“Hey, guys!” Ellie said to a group of eight other children, ranging from what you assumed was ten years younger than Ellie to a couple years older. They murmured a collective hello, their wide, round eyes staring up at Joel. You couldn’t imagine why except that he was large enough to eat them and carrying several guns. When he remained silent in their midst, one of the younger ones piped up:

“Where’s Miss Daisy?”

“She has the day off,” Ellie answered. She threw Joel a look, but he acted as though he hadn’t noticed.

“Miss Rachel?”

“She…also has the day off.” Ellie bit her lip and rocked backward and forward on the balls of her feet. Then, quite suddenly, she took a wide step to the left and gestured in your direction. “Miss [Name] is going to teach us today!”

“Teach us what?” asked the girl that looked the oldest in the group.

Ellie frowned, but smiled again soon after, brushing some hair out of her face. “Trapping.”

“Trapping?” “

Yep,” said Ellie. Joel, you noticed, hadn’t said a word. He was leaning against the fence, looking up at the brightening shape of the compound beyond the children. “Trapping. Take it away, Miss [Name].”

But you couldn’t. You couldn’t even fucking yell at Ellie for calling you “Miss [Name].” Every single eye in that group of tiny, impressionable children trained on you, and you were frozen. Their eyes—whole, trusting. Their fingers—tiny, unscarred. Eyeless. Voiceless. Your fault. Dead. More your fault.

You were off and through the gate before you even fully made the decision to leave. Your boots smashed into the foliage beneath your feet as you rushed into the forest nearby. The only thing your mind could focus on was your breath billowing wildly into your ears. Breath. Children. Death. Breath. Children. Death. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

It didn’t take long for your lopsided running and your easy exhaustion to keep you from going much further. Pretty soon, your legs were shaking with the effort to continue. Jackson remained in sight as you huddled onto the ground. Maybe no one would come find you. You hoped so—or maybe didn’t. Either way, about twenty minutes later, you heard footsteps. When you did not stand, the noise stopped. Whoever the feet belong to hadn’t left, though. A second later, you heard the distinct sound of someone sitting down next to you.

“What the hell was that?”

You groaned audibly into your arms. The last person you wanted to talk to at the moment was Ellie. Well, no, probably Joel. After that little scene, he was going to have something to say, and you didn’t want to hear it. Ellie was definitely up there, though.

“Seriously. What the hell?”

“Fuck off,” you said without lifting your head.

“No,” she answered. “You just took off without a word. Remember what I said about first impressions?”

“Shut up.”

“Yours sucked. What the fuck is your deal, [Name]?”

“None of your goddamn business!” you snapped as you at last looked up her.

Ellie scowled and rose to her feet.

“Where’s Joel?”

“Watching the class,” said Ellie. “They can’t be out here unguarded. And only Mitchell and Alice know how to use a knife. Well, come on.”

“What?”

“Well, come on,” she repeated. “You can’t stay out here. You’re going to get eaten.”

“No, I won’t! I can fucking take care of myself, okay? I did it before. I��ll learn to do it again! Just because I can’t—I can’t handle children doesn’t mean I’m a moron!”

“I never said it did. I just said you couldn’t stay out here. Anyway, what’s so damn wrong with teaching? It’s not like it’s a hard job. You don’t even have to do the physical work.”

“It has nothing to do with that!”

“Then what does it have to do with?”

You simply glowered at the ground. It really wasn’t any of Ellie’s business, and you didn’t plan to tell her. The fact of the matter was that you didn’t interact with kids, not even the last time you’d tried your hand at settling down—and that time had been willingly. Of course, to add salt to the wound, at your last settlement, you’d also had two arms. Even if you refused to interact with the kids, you were the best damn hunter of the bunch. No one was going to kick you out so long as you brought back meat and didn’t try to kill anyone in your party. Jackson had no such qualms.

“Whatever,” Ellie said, breaking quite rudely into your reminiscing. “You’re really fucking difficult, you know that, right?”

“I told you,” you said, quietly for once. “I told you all that I didn’t want to teach. There’s no point.”

“There’s always a point,” said Ellie. When your eyes found her in the shadows of the trees, she was looking away from you. Without bothering to see if you were following, she headed back in the direction of the settlement.

“I don’t want to go back there. Not with those—”

“You don’t have to teach,” she stopped to tell you.

“But what about my job? I really—” Suddenly, the tears you never cried were stuck in your throat. Your eyes felt too clogged with years of dust and dirt and gunpowder to get them out. You wrapped your good arm around your chest in the hopes that that would somehow stop the sobs from getting out. If you cried in front of fucking Ellie, you’d never live it down. You took a great, shuddering breath before continuing, “I really can’t be a teacher.”

She regarded you with no expression, for how long you couldn’t say. Slowly, your fear subsided, leaving you as dry as ever. That was when Ellie cocked her head to one side, straightened her neck, and then came up and latched her hand around yours.

“You’re such a baby,” Ellie announced as she led you through the woods. “Look, I’ll handle it.”

“But—”

“I said I’ll fucking handle it. We’ll figure out something else you can do. Something without a whole lot of people to upset, okay?”

You didn’t answer.

“You don’t have to teach. You just need to be present, okay?”

“Fine.”

Just then, the trees came to an end, and you and Ellie met the slope down to Jackson. You tore your hand free before anyone could see her holding it, but Ellie ignored this, intent only on returning to the rest of the group.

“What was that about?” the oldest girl demanded as you and Ellie entered.

Joel frowned at you, but you allowed your gaze to slip past him as you took a stationary position a few feet away.

In answer to the girl’s question, Ellie only shook her head. “Nothing. Something stupid. Change of plans, all right?”

No one argued. Within a matter of minutes, Ellie had dumped a torn book and her knife out of her backpack and started to teach them how to best maintain blades. The children crowded around, but Joel maintained his distance, without looking at you, without speaking to you. It was funny, because in that moment, you almost wished he had tried.

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hisonlyreid-er · 4 months ago

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School Girl Crush Pt 2

Part 1| Part 2| Part 3| Part 4| Part 5| A new BAU member appears and Spencer sees her as a little threat to his status of boy genius. Being unable to get comfortable with each other causes some issues within the team. Will they be able to move past it and work together?

Spencer Reid x FemBau!OC Warnings: canonical violence, guns, knife, angst if you squint, 1 singular swear word

Since joining the BAU, we've been working case to case. As we worked, I grew closer to the team, getting more accustom to their individual personalities and dynamics. I had now been living here for two and a half months.

I sat on my couch, phone to my ear as I listened to the voice on the other end. "Are you sure you're doing ok Lyn?" Rolling my eyes, I stood from the couch. "Mum. I'm fine. Everything is going really well." Keeping my phone between my ear and shoulder, I begun to clean up the dishes I left in the kitchen from last night. "I'm just worried." My eye checked the clock, noting my need to get ready for work. "I know you are but you don't need to be. I can protect myself and I trust my team members." I hear her sigh through the phone. "Ok. I have to go and I'm guessing you do too." A little smile formed at her reluctant tone. "Yeah I do. I have to be at work in like an hour." I took hold of the phone again having finished cleaning. "You need to call me sooner next time. And make sure to talk to your brother, he misses you." "Yes mum. I have to go. Bye, love you." I had to start getting ready for work. "Bye hon, love you too." The call cut off and I was glad. Of course I love my mum but sometimes she was so overbearing. For the last hour she had talked my ear off about some random drama about Sharon's affair and a wheelie bin mix-up. Then she told me about how dangerous the US was and proceeded to lecture me about my choices. Not even being on a different continent could stop my mums annoying habits.

5:21. Shit. It was a 15 minute drive to headquarters. I needed to get a move on.

5:58. Perfect. I liked to be punctual. However, because of my need for punctuality, I had run around my apartment like a crazy woman, tripping over my discarded possessions. I mentally swore to myself about the mess I left everything in. In my rush, I hadn't had time to deal with my hair. The ginger frizz was extremely unprofessional and I noticed when I caught sight of myself in a window. I stood in the lift, wrestling the waves into a messy ponytail. It would do. Just to make sure I was prepared, I flicked through my bag to ensure I had everything I needed.

As I walked towards my desk I spotted Morgan. A little detour wouldn't hurt. I pivoted and headed towards the kitchen. "Mornin'." He looked a little shocked at my sudden appearance. "Oh, hey Colesta." He was pouring himself a mug of coffee. "Want some?" I turned my nose up and I shook my head. "Oh right, I forgot. You only like a cuppa tea." The stereotypical British accent was so bad. I shot him a dirty look but reached for the kettle because I in fact did want a cup of tea. Stupid stereotypes. "You're here early." I didn't look up as I spoke, checking I had my keys. Forever paranoid. "Unlike some of you, I'm normal and like sleep but, I have some paperwork left from the last case that I want to finish before the next one." His explanation made sense. "We have a case?" I hadn't gotten the usual call so it must be fairly recent. "Yeah, I ran into Hotch on my way in. Sacramento." I had never been there. It felt strange being excited to visit new places when the reason we are there in the first place is so horrible.

"Better got on that paperwork mate. You're running out of time." A little laugh and he was gone. I took my mug and finished making my tea. A few more people had trickled in. On the way to my desk I passed by Prentiss and greeted her but she was never a morning person. Dr Reid wasn't here yet but he usually arrived at 6:15 considering the train times. Rossi was probably in his office, mulling over something or other. Settling into my seat, I retrieved everything from my bag, folders, files, pens. I had just started to go over my report for the last case a final time, being meticulous. My phone vibrated in my pocket with a message. I prayed to everything holy that it wasn't my mum sending me another article about a shooting in a state a 6 hour drive away. Luckily, the name on the screen wasn't my mum, it was Garcia. Come here right now and tell me everything about your date!!!!! Then there was an obnoxious amount of emojis. Deciding it was best not to defy her wishes, I grab my mug and start to journey to her little cave. On my way out I ran into Dr Reid who was just arriving. "Morning Dr Reid." I didn't stop. The chances were that he wouldn't acknowledge me so I tried not to dwell on it when I recieved no response.

Garcia sat me down and made me spill every detail of last night. "He was nice..." The look she gave me could have killed. "That can't be it. Where did you go? What did you wear? What did he look like? How did he act? You have to tell me everything Colesta." She pointed a threatening finger in my direction. "He took me to that Italian restaurant, the one with the massive pizzas. I wore that red top with a pair of black trousers, you picked my outfit." That reminded her. "Oops, yeah, sorry." Her hands prompted me to continue. "He was blonde. He's what I think a surfer dude looks like. Yeah. He was nice but that was it. His name was Tom and he was just kind of shallow. Maybe my standards are too high but he just wasn't anything I was looking for." I leant back in the chair, sipping my tea. "Why not? What're you looking for?" I thought for a moment. I had only known her for 2 months but Penelope was my closest friend here. "A gentleman, someone who opens a door for me, offers me his jacket. And he knows that I can open my own door but he wants to do it for me, y'know? He needs to be kind, considerate and has to understand that looks aren't everything." I sighed a little as I stared at the wall behind her head. "Understandable. Some men are trash. I can look through some data bases if you want, find you a boyfriend that way." I laughed, properly, for the first time in a while. "While I appreciate to offer, that's not entirely necessary Garcia. I'm not that bothered by dating right now." My phone pinged as I finished talking. Roundtable, 30 minutes. I hoped Garcia would let me leave. I went to stand up but she grabbed me and stopped me from getting up. "You've got 30 minutes. I'm not done with you yet Colesta." Dread settled in my stomach.

As I walked into the room, Penelope was bounding behind me, elated with everything I'd told her. "What's got you so happy baby girl?" I slumped into my chair, opening the folder on the table in front of me. "I've just got all the details about Colestas date last night." That drew some surprised looks. Agent Hotchner wasn't in the room yet so there was no one to save me from this. "You forgot to mention that, mate." I glare at Morgan as he mocks me. If this was one of my friends back home I would've flipped them off but I wasn't back home and this was a colleague. I just turned my attention to the case file. A nudge hit me in the side. I looked at Prentiss. "A date, huh? How was it?" Yeah, I wasn't getting out of this. "He wasn't great, kinda shallow." I prayed that was it. It wasn't. A barrage of questions ensued. I should never have told Garcia about my date. As I look around the table I see Dr Reid looking frustrated by the conversation and the lack of concentration on the case at hand. Like an angel descending from heaven, Agent Hotchner walked into the room. I was utterly mortified as he rose an eyebrow, hearing the discussion at hand. He caught my eye and I practically pleaded with him. "We have a case. You can talk about Agent Colestas love life in your own time." Now that wasn't quite what I was hoping for but it worked well enough.

This case was one of the tougher ones, having us stay in Sacramento for 4 days already. We were all exhausted, struggling to accurately profile this guy. The clock was ticking as a new body could show up at any time.

It was 1 in the morning and I hadn't left the precinct yet, my brain firing at 100 mph as I try to piece together anything I could. My back ached from the plastic chairs and my horrendous posture. Dr Reid was stood by the whiteboard in the room. We never really spoke much, more like tolerated each others presence. I tried to get to know him when I first joined the team but I was met with a brick wall. It was a little saddening at first but I got over it, Garcia told me he didn't warm up to people easily and we'd get there eventually. I wanted to believe her but sometimes it just felt pointless.

"What if we profiled this wrong? Maybe he's not a sadist. He shows no empathy for his victims, humiliating them right up until he kills them. And every after they're dead, he humiliates them by staging them publicly. It's more likely that we are dealing with a narcissist." I was mainly thinking out loud but my ramblings brought Dr Reids attention to me. I couldn't stop the hint of pride I felt as he seemed to consider my idea. "That would explain the methods of disposal. But I think we need to focus on victimology." This was the longest time we'd spoken in the last 2 months I'd been a member of the team.

I stood from my chair, walking over to the board with the photos of the victims. There was nothing obviously similar about them. Each woman had a different hair colour, was a different race, had different eye colours and had no noticeable overlaps in any other aspect of their lives. Pattern recognition was one of my strong points so this was so frustrating. I just stared at the pictures, hoping that I would have an epiphany. Dr Reid had moved to examine some of the folders again, even though he knew them off by heart. Stupid eidetic memory. It was always a little surprising how high IQs can effect people differently. Dr Reid had an IQ of 187 and he could read 20,000 words per minute and could remember everything due to his eidetic memory. I, on the other hand, had an IQ of 174 and while I couldn't do anything near what Dr Reid could, I excelled in the more emotional, mental side of things. During my time with the NCA, I was the lead interrogator in the unit because of my ability to get into their head and use it to get the answers we seeked. Some people in the past had just called me straight up manipulative but it was part of the job and I was pretty good at it. It cause some issues when it came to dating, I was constantly worried about profiling my date and scaring them off.

Dating. My eyes grew wide as a spark flickered in my mind. "Were all the victims single?" I asked the human computer. He thought for a moment before shaking his head. "Victim 3 was married." I looked at the pictures from Victim 3's autopsy. No ring. That's pretty common among married victims, the unsub removes it, keeps it as a trophy but that wasn't the case here. "There's no line." Dr Reid looked up, confused. "What?" Everything was being pieced together in my head. "It's sunny here, right. She had tan lines from the straps of her clothing but not one on her hand. She hasn't been wearing her wedding ring." I hadn't even finished my sentence before I grabbed my phone, calling Garcia. "My amazing brain is at your service." Her sunny attitude lifted my mood a little. "Hey Garcia. Can you check Maria Gardener? Check bills, withdrawals, spending. Anything that might show issues in her marriage." I hear the clacking of keys as I spoke. "Any examples to guide me?" I tapped my fingers against my thigh, a habit I needed to break. "Lots of hotel stays, excessive spending. Maybe she even hired a lawyer recently." Dr Reid was flicking through the files as I spoke, clearly understanding my train of thought. "Bingo! Mrs. Gardener has had 5 lengthy hotel stays in the past 3 months. And a nice cherry on top, there's a receipt from a local pawn shop for an engagement ring. Safe to say that marriage was pretty much gone." That was it. "Garcia, I am so in love with you it's not even funny." I hung up the phone and started my hunt. There had to be the connection. I looked at the victims clothes. They were all from different social classes but each one of them seemed to be dressed nicely. "They were going on a date with the unsub." The final piece fell into place. "But we found nothing online to show the victims going out to meet someone, no mentions as a date." Silly Dr Reid. "The unsub is playing on what most women want. A meet-cute. He's bumping into them in a coffee shop or another place they frequent. They exchange numbers, he uses a burner phone and a fake name, but he tells them he'll pick them up at 7. No online exchanges as he plays it old school."

The rest of the team were out trying to find a coffee shop open at the time. None of us were planning to sleep tonight. My first call was the Agent Hotchner. He picked up on the 2nd ring. "Hotchner." He was about to have his socks blown off. "It's Colesta. We've figured out how he's finding his victims." I couldn't help the little smile I had. "Let me patch Morgan in." I pulled the phone form my ear and dialed Morgan. "Morgan." Why does everyone answer the phone like that? "We know how the unsub is finding his victims." I was itching to explain. "Ok, you're on speaker. I've got Prentiss and JJ here." Any bit of exhaustion had been wiped from my body. I explained everything I'd pieced together. The rest of the team added other ideas, everyone agreeing that it made sense. The call ended and I dropped into the chair next to me. "How did you figure that out?" Dr Reid questioned, as he continued to flick through the various sheets of paper adorning the table. "I was just thinking about that date I had, got the cogs turning." I was a little shameful as his gaze turned to me. "That's a bit unprofessional." My cheeks burnt red. His whispered comment. There goes any progress I hoped we had made.

We had found him. Michel Ines. 32 years old. The vest was tight against my chest, creating a sense of security. My gun was raised as we circled the building. There was a missing woman that we suspected to be inside. Our main goal was getting her out safely. I was paired up with Morgan. His fist banged on the door. "Michel Ines. This is the FBI, come out with your hands up." Morgans voice boomed but there was no response. We didn't expect him to give up easily. We exchanged a look before he kicked the door in. I moved into the dark house first. The rest of the team was spread out around the building. Morgan and I moved together, clearing the house as we went. A muffled thud could be heard beneath us. We knew what to do. Locating the stairs was easy. I took in a deep breath as we began our descent into the basement. I went first, taking each step slowly. Why did is always end up in a basement?

The damp, dark of the basement was suffocating as I took the finally few steps. Morgan was still near the top of the stairs. She was alive. I could hear muffled cries echoing through the empty space. "Michel Ines. FBI, come out with your hands up." It was worth a shot but nothing. The cries erupt again at the sound of my voice. I take a step into the darkness, towards the noise. My mouth opens to call out to the woman. The words died in my mouth as someone tackles me, my gun flying out of my hand. A grunt erupts from me as my side hits the hard concrete. Morgans footsteps as close. The cool metal of a knife hits my face. With all my strength, I push back, trying to keep as much distance between me and the blade meant for my head. A quick pain blooms on my cheek but I don't let it distract me. The surprise of the attack and the size of this man meant I couldn't do much but fend him off. Luckily, Morgan appeared just in time, dragging the unsub off me and works on getting his weapon off him. The desperate cries are back and I'm on my feet instantly. I knew Morgan could deal with him, my focus was on Lucy Williams, the missing woman being kept in the basement.

As I round the corner, I see her. She's tied to a chair in the middle of the room. A blindfold covers her eyes and a gag is in place to keep her quiet. Kneeling down in front of her, I took hold of the blindfold. She thrashed in the chair, clearly terrified. The second the fabric is off, I hold my hands up. "Lucy. I'm with the FBI and we're here to get you out." She frantically nodded at me, telling me she understood. I pulled the gag from her mouth, watching as she took deep breaths through her sobs. I block out her thank you's as I moved to untie her. Bruises scattered her skin. With my pocket knife, I sawed through the rope. It dropped away from her. I had to stop her from jumping up from the seat. All signs of struggling had stopped. "Colesta. I'm taking him up. You got her?" I started my check over of Lucy, making sure she could walk. "Yeah, I got her. Is my gun out there?" I realised I had lost sight of it when the unsub tackled me. "Its out here." He sounded further away as he left the basement. I'd grab it on the way out. The woman seemed a little bruised but mostly ok. I let her stand up from the chair. She seemed a little shaky on her feet so I slid my arm behind her back, keeping her tucked into my side as I guided us towards the stairs. The light from upstairs came into view. I spotted my gun on the floor and stopped to pick it up, returning it to my holster.

With a steady pace, I led Lucy out of the basement. I got her out of that house. As we emerged on the porch, the paramedics had just pulled up. She's taken from me and led towards the ambulance. "Thank you." I heard her whisper as she accepts the help. I see Morgan closing the door on the unsub, preparing him to be locked up for a long time. Relief engulfs me as I realise the case is finally over, we've locked away another murderer. Agent Hotchner approached me, his ever stoic look on his face. "Agent Colesta." I start to loosen the straps on my vest. "Agent Hotchner." I give a small smile to my boss. Morgan appeared next to me. I didn't even notice him walking over. "You took quite the hit there Colesta. You good?" Agent Hotchner looked over at me. "Go see EMS." The order rattled me a little. I was absolutely fine. Annoyance bubbled as he didn't waver, his stare commanding. "I'm fine." I pulled at my vest, a twinge of pain appearing in my side. My face must have shown it. "Go see EMS. That's an order Colesta." I huff but follow commands, walking over to the nearest ambulance.

I was vaguely aware of a stinging on my left cheek. Oh yeah. The knife. Clearly I didn't have an eidetic memory. The paramedic got me to sit on the edge of the open door as he cleaned my face. He was just about to give me the all clear when Morgan walked past. "Gotta check her side man, don't let her fool you." I shot him a dirty look as the paramedic turned back to me. With his help, I got my vest off and I realised that I might be a little hurt. Stretching up caused pain to flare up my side. I lift the hem of my blouse, revealing my side. A bruise was already forming and took up most of the skin. The next few minutes were quite painful as he checked for any breaks. Thankfully, nothing was broken but I would be bruised for a while.

We gathered all our belongings, preparing to go home. I received a clap on the bac from Prentiss, kind words from JJ and a very, very brief side hug from Rossi. I was actually proud of myself. I was. Until I happened to glance over to Dr Reid. There was an almost disgusted look on his face as he looked at me. My heart sank. "That's a bit unprofessional." That rung in my mind on the jet, on the drive home, sat in my empty apartment, working at my desk. His words didn't leave my head for weeks, leaving me in a constant state of uncertainty. Goddamn Dr Reid.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #penelope garcia #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #dr spencer reid #david rossi #emily prentiss #jenifer jareau #spencer reid x oc #criminal minds x oc #original female character

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mrprettywhenhecries · 1 year ago

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don’t waste your time (on me) [g.t]

03. | I Hope that I Don't Fall in Love with You

Gator Tillman ✘ Win Lewis (OC)

⇾ w.c. 4.2k words ⇾ warning(s). canon x oc pairing, f!oc, misogynistic themes, gator being endearing and sweet, inexperienced!Gator, unprotected sex, p in v, rough car sex, creampie, spitting, panty stealing, public sex ⇾ a/n: I've kind of been agonizing over this series lately, afraid that my characterization and the story line are kinda all over the place, so hopefully that's just all in my head;;

Despite both receiving warnings to stay away from the other by outside parties, neither can keep their mind off the other, and Gator can't stay away, while Win comes to the decision that she doesn't want him to.

[ masterlist • win bio ]

Win stirred, something waking her from a deep slumber and a dream she couldn’t quite remember. Her eyelids were too heavy to open just yet, her vision blurry when she tried. A pleasant ache radiated from between her thighs and the memory of several tiring rounds of sex the night before floated to the surface of her mind, Gator insisting he needed to practice.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she rolled over instead, nuzzling into the pillow beneath her face as she reached out for something, a vague feeling that there should be someone warm there to hold onto. However, when she felt only cold sheets, the covers thrown back, she jerked awake, the fog clouding her mind and body disappearing suddenly.

“Gator?” she asked, her voice cracking and she grimaced at how pathetic she sounded. A quick glance around the room told her his clothes were gone, the clock reading seven thirty.

He’d gone before she woke, leaving without saying a word and a feeling she didn’t want to identify spread through her stomach, choking her, until the smell of something burning hit her nostrils.

Frowning, Win pulled back the covers and shivered, quickly pulling her robe around her to go investigate when suddenly the shrill shriek of her smoke alarm began to blare. Outside, Win heard Gator swear loudly from the kitchen and a grin tugged at her lips, relief washing through her before she could think too much about the origin of the emotion.

“Piece of shit, dumb fuckin’ thing—“ Gator muttered as Win emerged from her room to find him trying to turn the alarm off, a ruined pan of eggs smoking on the stovetop.

“What’s going on out here?” she asked, crossing her arms as she leaned against the counter, amusement lacing her voice.

Gator managed to reach the off button on the smoke detector and grimaced, pushing his hair out of his eyes as he finally looked at her, a sheepish expression on his face.

“Were you seriously trying to make us breakfast?” she asked, unable to keep from giggling softly at the sour look that crossed his face.

“Trying is the key word,” he muttered, dropping the skillet in the sink. “Wanted to make something a little nicer than cold pop tarts.”

“Jesus, you’re hopeless, Gator,” Win sighed, a grin playing at the corners of her mouth. “But sweet,” she added and he brightened, glancing hesitantly at her.

“Well, y’know it’s the thought that counts, right?” he murmured, pulling her closer by the hips. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“You certainly did. I thought you left…” Win admitted, her gaze dropping, that unwelcome emotion once more burning her chest.

Gator’s amused chuckle brought her head snapping up.

“You thought I snuck out without sayin’ goodbye and thanks for the tumble?” he teased, a shit eating grin on his stupid handsome face. “Didn’t think you’d be so upset over something like that,” he drawled, pleased as punch and Win spluttered defensively.

“That’s not—!”

“Ain’t that cute,” Gator mused, wending his arms around her tighter, pressing her chest to his. “Looks like someone’s gettin’ attached,” he taunted lightly, his eyes searching hers. “What was it you said, don’t go fallin’ in love just cause we slept together? Something to that effect?” he taunted further and Win scowled.

“Very funny,” she snapped, turning her face away, or trying, Gator catching her jaw with his hand and directing her face back toward him, leaning in til his lips barely brushed hers.

“You’re beautiful in the morning, you know that?” he murmured before his lips pressed to hers, parting to kiss her deeper and Win melted against him, past caring about morning breath, her tongue meeting his in a gentle caress.

“Wish I could stay longer, but I gotta get ready for my shift soon,” he groaned, pulling back to gaze at her from under long lashes that had no right to be that beautiful, his next words spoiling the effect somewhat. “Since you’re awake, you wanna whip us up something, babe?” he asked, hopefully.

Win rolled her eyes, pushing him back with an unamused snort. “One thing you should know about me, babe,” she said, emphasizing the word, “is that I’m probably about as good a cook as you are. So how about those pop tarts?” she offered instead.

Gator laughed, shaking his head ruefully. “And here I thought all women were naturals in the kitchen.”

Win flashed him a flat stare before pinching his side, ignoring his indignant yelp.

“Watch it, Tillman, I could still kick you out without breakfast.”

“Alright, alright! I’ll get the pop tarts!” he exclaimed, holding his hands up in surrender and Win reluctantly smiled.

Gator busied himself with unwrapping the pastries and dropping them in the slots of the toaster, pressing down the lever as he glanced at Win out of the corner of his eye.

“So… when can I see you again?”

Win chewed her lip at his question, shrugging a shoulder, not trusting herself to voice the answer that initially sprang to her lips.

“Surprise me,” she said instead, wrapping her arms around herself.

Gator watched her for a moment before nodding, a grin spreading across his face. “Yes, ma’am,” he drawled, snatching one of the poptarts as it popped up, only to drop it with a hiss of pain.

“Oh fuck, that’s hot!” he yelped, shaking his hand and Win had to fight not to laugh, managing to hold back the brunt of her amusement and only letting out a soft snort.

“Yeah, no shit,” she exclaimed, turning on the faucet and guiding his hand to the cold water. “Hold that there for a few minutes til the pain goes away,” she instructed, turning away to carefully pick up the pastry with a napkin and hand it to him so he could eat while he waited.

“Why is it every time you try to look cool, you end up looking like a dork?” Win teased, pouring two cups of coffee and adding creamer – Gator struck her as the type to like his coffee sickeningly sweet.

“I don’t look like a dork,” Gator huffed sullenly, his mouth full of the rest of his breakfast.

Win shook her head ruefully, brushing the crumbs from his face before handing him the cup of coffee.

“Careful, it’s hot,” she warned with an amused twist of her lips, and Gator answered with a flat stare, clearly not amused.

Win shook her head, leaning against the counter as he took a sip. “That’s not necessarily a bad thing though, y’know? It’s endearing,” she murmured.

Gator scoffed, his brows pinching. I don’t wanna be endearing,” he muttered. “I want you to think I’m hot shit,” he admitted and Win’s expression softened.

“Don’t try so hard,” she said, shrugging as if it were easy.

Gator nodded slowly, his gaze faraway, as if deep in thought, until he winced. “I can’t feel my hand,” he whined and Win couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out, quickly stifling it as she turned off the tap and grabbed a towel, taking Gator’s hand to dry it and work a little warmth back in.

“How’s that? Better?” Win asked, pressing a kiss to his palm for good measure, her eyes flicking up to his in time to see his lips part and pink rise to his cheeks.

Hastily clearing his throat, Gator flexed his hand. “Much better,” he said, grabbing his hat from the counter and tugging it on.

“Ah, shit,” he swore under his breath when he caught sight of the time. “I gotta go. I’ll, uh, I’ll text you,” he said, hurrying to the front door to stuff his feet in his boots and run.

Win watched him go, a bemused smile on her face til she realized what she was doing and shook herself out of it, trying to ignore the confusing mix of emotions that plagued her.

When she stepped into the bathroom to start the water for her shower, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror and gasped, gaping at the series of dark hickies Gator had left along her neck.

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” she growled, knowing she’d never be able to cover them completely.

Moments later her phone lit up on the counter, Gator’s name flashing across the screen.

🐊: had fun last night ;)

If Win weren’t so annoyed with him at the moment, she’d find the fact that he barely waited ten minutes after leaving to text her – no doubt doing so while driving – amusing and rather endearing, but she was too worked up for that.

Snapping a photo of her neck, she furiously typed out a message to go with it before hitting send.

Winnie: WTF Gator? Just had to go and mark me up, huh??

Grabbing a towel from the closet, she slipped her robe off, waiting for him to reply.

🐊: sorry, couldn’t help it. think of em as something to remember me by ;p

Unable to hold onto her anger any longer, Win rolled her eyes, sending one last reply before climbing in the shower.

Winnie: you’re an ass

“You’re late, Deputy.”

Roy sat behind his desk, his face half hidden by the newspaper in his hands. He barely glanced up to look at Gator as he sauntered into the station.

“Sorry, lost track of time,” Gator mumbled, heading to the coffee pot to pour himself a cup, still needing to wake up some more, wishing he was still in bed with Win.

Roy grunted, finally folding the paper and tossing it down on the desk. “Where were you last night? Didn’t see your cruiser parked at the ranch,” he said, turning his full focus on his son.

Gator opened his mouth, searching for an answer, but another Deputy cut him off.

“Big hero insisted he had to escort Miss Lewis home after thwarting her assault in Frankie’s parking lot,” the man drawled, a shit eating grin on his face. “You stay the night too, hero? Get a nice reward?” he taunted, laughing at the disgruntled look on Gator’s face.

“Lewis?” Roy asked, flipping through the paperwork from last night's collar. “Win Lewis, works as a bartender at Frankie’s,” he mused, reading from the arrest report before glancing up at Gator. “Which one’s she?”

Again, the other officer answered before Gator could get a word in, his mouth hanging open in a wordless splutter.

“Short dyed blonde hair, all inked up. Got a mouth on her too, I hear, little spitfire,” he said, smirking pointedly at Gator. “Cute though. I wouldn’t kick her outta bed,” he added.

Gator narrowed his eyes, the muscles in his jaw flexing in annoyance before he smoothed his expression and turned to his dad.

“She was pretty shaken up after the attack, didn’t wanna be alone. You know how women are,” he said with a shrug. “I slept on the couch, damn uncomfortable though,” he grumbled, knuckling the small of his back to sell the story.

Roy stared at him for a long moment, frowning. “I seem to remember pulling her over once,” he mused, sitting up in his chair and reaching for his hat. “I hate to judge on first impressions and appearances,” he murmured, shaking his head, “but that girl’s trouble, mark my words. Too headstrong for her own good. Needs a man to put her in her place,” he said, fixing Gator with a stern glance from under the wide brim. “Best you keep a wide berth of that one,” he warned and Gator let out a scoff, quickly nodding in agreement.

“Right. Right, yeah,” he mumbled, watching his dad rise from his chair and leave the room, but he was already thinking of how much he wanted to see her again.

Remembering her car was still at the bar, Win had to text her friend and coworker to give her a ride for her shift.

As soon as she climbed into the car, her coworker, Lydia’s gaze went straight to her neck where the high collared jacket Win had on failed to completely obscure the dark marks Gator’d left behind and her eyes rounded.

“What are those?” she cried, a devious grin spreading across her face as she pulled away from the curb.

Win scowled and tugged at her collar. “You know damn well what they are,” she snapped, pulling down the visor to check her reflection in the small mirror on the back.

“So, who are they from?” Lydia asked, still wearing a shit eating grin, but Win kept her mouth shut, throwing her friend a pointed look to mind her damn business and Lydia took the hint, sighing dramatically.

“I’m sure I’ll find out sooner or later.”

Thankfully, for Win, it was a relatively quiet night at the bar and she had to admit after the night before she was wary of anyone who wasn’t a regular. Luckily, Lydia handled most of the unfamiliar faces for her while she hung back and cleaned the glasses.

Win’s phone buzzed again and she wiped her hands before pulling it from her pocket and rolling her eyes at the message, a tiny smile playing at her lips.

“Girl, who have you been texting all night?” Beau, the fry cook, asked, leaning out the order window in an attempt to read over her shoulder.

“No one!” Win answered quickly, pressing her screen to her chest so he couldn’t see.

“Probably whoever gave her those hickies,” Lydia teased, sidling up to the bar next to her and hooking a finger in her collar, tugging it down.

“What?” Beau gasped, craning to see. “How the hell did I miss those?” he exclaimed.

“Come on, spill,” Lydia insisted, waiting.

“It’s none of your business,” Win said lightly, slipping past her to check inventory.

“Oh, you know what,” Beau exclaimed, snapping his fingers and leaning in conspiratorially. “You’ll never guess who I spied our girl flirting with last night.”

“I was not flirting,” Win called, overhearing them from across the bar.

“Okay, you keep telling yourself that, honey,” Beau retorted before turning his attention back to Lydia.

“Who?” Lydia exclaimed and Beau’s grin turned impish.

“Gator Tillman.”

“No!” Lydia gasped, turning back to gape at Win. “Did you sleep with him?”

Win winced, knowing her friends would react this way. “Fine. Yes, I did,” she snapped defensively, tossing the bar towel slung over her shoulder down to the counter. “After last night, I didn’t wanna be alone, so I invited him in… and one thing led to another,” she muttered reluctantly.

“Was he… good?” Lydia asked, making a face.

“He wasn’t… bad,” Win admitted, hating the way her body betrayed her, her face flushing hotly.

“Please tell me this was just a one time thing,” Beau said, sobering. “He may have some looks goin’ on, but baby, you know his family’s reputation, plus boy's a cop and a loser.”

Win sighed. There was that phrase again, the one that made her itch to defend him. “I know…” she muttered reluctantly, staring at the bar top.

“Beau’s right, that’s not a family you wanna get tangled up with. Women tend to go missing around his daddy," Lydia said quietly, and Win couldn't exactly argue with her.

Once they’d finished closing up, Win’s friends walked her to her car, making sure she was alright before heading home themselves.

Inside her car, Win felt safer, checking that her pistol was still in the glove box before pulling out of the parking lot. In the seat beside her, her phone vibrated, but she didn’t pick it up, already knowing who it was. After the conversation with her friends, that torn feeling was back. She knew she and Gator didn’t belong together, so why did she still want to see him so bad?

When the Sheriff’s car pulled out behind her and flashed its lights, Win wasn’t surprised. For half a second she thought about gunning it and leaving Gator behind in the dust, just to see what he would do, but it wouldn’t make a difference, he already knew where she lived.

Pulling off the side of the road, she rolled down her window and waited. It wasn’t long before Gator sauntered over and leaned heavily against her car, ducking his head to look in her window.

“Know why I pulled you over?” he asked, a smug grin gracing his features as he tapped his fingers against her door.

“Honestly, I’m not sure, Deputy. I’m not aware I broke any laws,” Win replied, batting her eyes at him innocently.

Gator’s gaze roamed the inside of her car til it landed on her phone, laying face down on the passenger seat.

“Well, y’see, I sent you a message and you didn’t reply,” he murmured, a frown tugging at his chapped lips.

Win snorted softly. “I thought it was against the law to text and drive,” she countered, arching an eyebrow at him.

Gator shook his head, fighting back a grin. “That’s only when you’re texting anyone but me.”

“Oh. Oh, I see,” Win exclaimed, rolling her eyes. “I’m sorry Deputy, I wasn’t aware of that law.”

Gator narrowed his eyes at her, pulling her door open. “I’m gunna need you to step out of the vehicle, miss,” he exclaimed and Win’s brows rose.

“And what for?”

“Well, you’re sassin’ an officer of the law, miss, and I just can’t allow that,” he drawled, his smirk fixed firmly back in place and a thrill ran through Win at the sight.

Unbuckling her seat belt, Win stepped out of the car, shutting the door behind her.

“Hands on the top of the car,” Gator instructed.

“You’re getting off on this, aren’t you?” Win asked, stepping up to him, her chin rising defiantly. “You like bossing me around, Deputy?” she purred, her gaze holding his. It was certainly a change from his demeanor the night before.

Gator clicked his tongue and spun her, forcing her against the side of the car before nudging her legs apart with his foot and Win gasped as he began to roughly pat her down, just an excuse to feel her up, his wandering hands sending heat rushing through her.

It was as if Gator became more confident when he had a part to play, and Win couldn’t deny how much it seemed to turn her on.

“Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you all day,” he grunted, stilling, his breath hot against her neck as he pressed his hips into her ass and Win bit back the moan that threatened to slip out, not wanting him to know how much she was enjoying it.

“Sounds like someone’s pussy-whipped, Deputy,” she teased and Gator let out a laugh, his hand slipping between her legs.

“With a pussy this sweet, can you blame me?” he drawled, suddenly turning her back around to face him, pinning her back to the car, his lust blown eyes roaming her face before dipping lower to admire the marks he’d left.

“You didn’t even try to cover them up?” he breathed, his grin stretching wider.

Win’s mouth fell open. “That’s not–!” she exclaimed, but Gator wouldn’t hear it, leaning in to silence her with a kiss, swallowing the rest of her excuse, his tongue invading her mouth.

“Seems to me you wanted people to see,” he drawled in amusement, nipping at her bottom lip and noting the way her breath caught. “Did anyone ask about ‘em?” he wondered.

“Yeah, thanks a lot for that,” Win huffed sullenly, not wanting to repeat what her friends had said about him.

Gator snorted, kissing her again, his arms boxing her in, pressing her tighter to the car as his mouth moved against hers bruisingly.

“Did you touch yourself?” Win asked between rough kisses, sucking on his tongue before pulling back to raise an eyebrow at him.

“What?”

“You said you couldn’t stop thinking about me. Did you touch yourself in your cruiser, fisting your cock to the thought of this sweet pussy?” she taunted and even in the dark she could see the flush that rose to Gator’s cheeks.

“No,” he huffed, pressing his thigh between her legs, against her aching core. “I was waiting for the real thing,” he admitted, kissing her neck as her head lolled back against the car.

“Good boy,” she breathed teasingly, grinding desperately against his leg, throwing what was left of her dignity aside.

At Win’s praise, Gator moaned out loud, frantically reaching for the back door handle and yanking it open.

“Need you now,” he practically growled, tugging her skirt up and nearly tearing her panties down before forcing her into the back seat and tucking the discarded garment into his pocket.

“I’m not getting those back, am I?” Win asked, slipping to the edge of the seat and letting her legs fall open, giving Gator a good view of glistening sex as he fumbled with his belt.

“Nope,” he murmured, hissing as he finally freed his throbbing length.

“You like smelling panties too? Jeeze, you really are a pervert, Tillman,” she taunted, gasping as he bullied his cock between her slick folds. “Shit—!”

“You like to talk a lot until I’m buried balls deep in you,” he countered, barely waiting for her to adjust before snapping his hips to hers.

“G-Gator—“ Win whined, biting her lip against the sting of his stretch.

“Huh? What’s that? Can’t hear you Princess,” he grunted, smirking smugly as he sped up, his thrusts growing aggressive in his excitement, his cock nearly slipping out of her.

“Slow down,” she hissed, wincing as he bottomed out, hitting her cervix with a little too much force.

“Shit, did I hurt you?” Gator asked, stilling abruptly.

“Just… remember what I said about the g-spot, okay? It’s less about how deep you go and more about the angle,” Win reminded him breathlessly, adjusting her position and Gator frowned, his expression darkening at his mistake.

Pulling his hat from his head, he tossed it into her back seat. Pursing his lips, he spat, letting the saliva land where their bodies were connected before he rocked into her slower, drawing a moan from her when his cock dragged against her spongy g-spot.

“Just like that—“ Win gasped, wishing he was pressed against her, instead of standing outside the car, his hands grasping her thighs, keeping her from sliding across the back seat.

This time when he sped up, he seemed to keep her advice in mind, not just thrusting blindly into her and focusing only on his own pleasure.

“M’close, you close?” he asked through gritted teeth, fighting not to blow his load too soon, and Win let out a whine, reaching between her legs to rub at her clit to catch up to him, but Gator caught her wrist, pulling her hand away.

“Uh uh Princess,” he grunted, spitting once more on her cunt before desperately rubbing at her sensitive bud, wanting to show her he could make her cum all on his own.

At his touch, Win let out a cry, her mouth falling open, electricity coursing through her with each sloppy swipe of his fingers.

“Fuck— Gator, I’m—!” her words cut off in a high pitched whine and as soon as she clenched around him, he was a goner, exploding inside her, each jerky rut of his hips filling her further.

When he stilled, pulling out of her, his eyes greedily drank in the sight of her ruined hole and the mess he’d made of her. Pulling her panties from his pocket, he cleaned her up, smirking at the way she twitched, her walls still fluttering and clenching around nothing before he stuffed the soiled panties back in his pocket.

“Shit Gator, you’re a fast learner,” Win groaned, half pushing herself up against the seat and pulling her skirt back down as she watched Gator tuck himself back into his cargo pants.

“Had a good teacher,” he murmured, buckling his belt back up, and a small grin tugged at Win’s lips.

“So, uhm,” he paused to clear his throat. “You’re not… seeing anyone else are you?” he asked, avoiding her gaze to run a hand over his hair, making sure it was still in place.

“I’m not… at the moment,” she admitted, frowning at the flicker of emotion that stirred in her chest.

“Good,” Gator replied gruffly, glancing back at his cruiser, checking the road to make sure they were still alone. “Otherwise I’d have to arrest ‘em, make sure I'm the only one in the picture.”

“You’re starting to sound a little possessive, Gator,” Win pointed out, sitting up.

“Yeah well, I’ve never been much good at sharing,” he mumbled, turning his head to rub his nose and spit.

“You’d really arrest someone for me?” Win asked, laughing at the thought.

Gator shrugged. “I kinda already did,” he snorted before sobering, his words barely audible. “I’d do anything for you.”

“Gator—“ Win breathed, frowning, but he cleared his throat, pressing on.

“I better get back to it, I’m still on the clock, after all,” he huffed, realizing he’d gotten a little too sappy and trying to quickly reel it back in.

“Gator, wait—“ Win exclaimed, but his lips were on hers before she could stand and he straightened, grabbing his hat and slipping it back on his head.

“I’ll text you,” he said, nodding to her before turning away and striding back to his cruiser without another word, leaving her wanting more and starting to realize that she’d already decided that she was going to keep seeing him.

⇾ taglist. @heartbreak-sandwich @b1tchy3lf @super-unpredictable98 @sugarcookiesteve

#gator tillman #gator tillman x oc #gator tillman smut #gator tillman fanfiction #fargo #fargo fx #fargo s5 #oc: win lewis #joz.fic #fic: don't waste your time on me #otp: wingator

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harringtonstilinski · 7 months ago

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Always The Babysitter - Chapter Thirty-Three: Papa

Author: @harringtonstilinski Characters: Steve Harrington x Olivia Henderson(OC) Word Count: 5,826 Warnings: squint for fluff, angst, canon violence, liv being indecisive but go with it, buggy = shopping cart in southern terms, Smut: no | yes; 18+ MINORS DNI: A/N: Hi, friends! I can't believe we're one chapter away from the end until Season 5 comes out! If you like this chapter, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

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Everyone jumped into gear, trying to find music for Nancy so that we could bring her out of her Vecna trance. Steve and I locked eyes as he freaked out while trying to wake up Nancy. “Whatever you guys are doing up there, hurry up!”

Erica and I looked at each other then booked it to the backroom, which I guess was Eddie’s room. “Steve says you need to hurry the hell up!”

“Yeah, no shiiiiiiit!” Dustin yelled.

“We’re trying,” Max said. “We can’t find anything.”

“Seriously, what is all this shit?” Robin asked.

“I mean, wh-wh-what are you even looking for?” Eddie asked, running back in the room, a bunch of cassettes in his arms as I stood next to him.

“Madonna, Blondie, Bowie, Beatles! Music, we need music!”

Eddie held up an Iron Maiden cassette as he and I yelled, “THIS IS MUSIC!”

I grabbed the cassette from his hand before grabbing the cassette player, running back to the mattress… only, when I got there and looked up to tell Steve we got the music, what I saw brought me back to our Junior year when he started dating Nancy; Steve holding Nancy in his arms on the ground, her telling her that everything was okay and that he was there for her.

I looked down as I heard footsteps rushing towards the mattress, tears lining my waterline. I sniffled a little then looked up, seeing Dustin looking at me, puzzled. “Uhm,” I said, wiping my lower lash line. “She broke out herself. She’s fine.”

Sighing, I said, “I’ll be outside. I just need some fresh air. Ya’know, being stuck in the Upside Down all night.” I lightly chuckled with no humor behind it at all. Before I could step around him, Dustin gave me a hug, one that I returned, tightly. He pulled away before looking up, asking Steve and Nancy if they were ready to come down.

I stepped outside, sitting on the porch that was off the right of the door… or left, depending on which way you were looking. Part of me wanted to go into Eddie’s stash to look for something to calm my racing thoughts, another part wanted a cigarette, and the last part wanted to go off into town and steal something, but I resisted all urges when I heard the door open, a voice following after, “There you are.”

Looking to my left, I watched as Steve carefully made his way across the small patch of grass that sat in between the porch and the steps to the front door, careful not to step on any sticker bushes.

“Hi,” I said, quietly, turning to face him, my legs dangling over the side.

Steve stood in between them, his neck at my eyeline. Bringing my hand up, I lightly traced over them, smiling a little, more to myself than anything.

“You’re smiling at my wounds?” he asked.

Lightly shaking my head, I snickered before looking at his eyes. “You make wounds look good. I mean–” I sighed, dropping my head again. Looking back up at him, I said, “This whole look you’re sporting right now has got you looking–” I brought up the okay hand gesture while winking and clicking my tongue once before continuing, “Fucking amazing, and I would love nothing more than to sneak off somewhere, kiss you stupid and do things to you, clothing optional.”

Steve laughed, resting his hands on my outer thighs. “I love you. And I would love to do all that, too, but we can’t, unfortunately.” He was quiet for a minute before he spoke up again. “You gonna tell me why you’re really out here? Dustin said something about you needing fresh air.”

“You don’t buy it?” I asked.

He sighed. “I do, but I know there’s more to it.”

It was my turn to sigh, my hands barely skimming over the makeshift bandage we made out of Nancy’s shirt. “Just… the way you were holding her brought me back to when you two were dating. I know I shouldn’t let it affect me, but… I guess it still kind of does. I mean, she’s been gawking at you the whole time we've been in this little group together. I just–” Another sigh. “I don’t know. I’m not jealous, but I guess I’m a little annoyed that she’s gawking at you when she clearly has Jonathan, she’s put herself in charge of this group, she’s being aggressive with her words towards Eddie, and–”

My words stopped as Steve’s lips pressed to mine, and I instantly shut the hell up, wrapped my arms around his neck gently to not hurt his wounds, and closed my eyes, relishing in the way his lips felt on mine.

I always had this feeling with Steve. I always enjoyed being with him, sexually and non-sexually. Steve was my soulmate, I could feel it. Since we were kids, I’ve always enjoyed being around him. He made me laugh, cry, feel better about myself, and I’m sure I’ve done the same with him.

He knows my boundaries, he knows what I do and don’t like, he knows my favorite song from all the artists I listen to. He just… knows. And I him. I know every single thing there is to know about Steve Harrington.

When I felt his hands under my shirt, resting on my waist, I was fucking done for. “We–” I said, pulling away from him a little. “We better stop or else I’ll be screaming your name on this porch.”

He laughed lightly at that, taking a small step back. “Well, let’s go then. The sun’s about to rise.”

~~~

We’d all decided to go across the road to Max’s trailer, it being big enough to house all of us. Steve, Eddie and myself were all sitting on the couch, Erica on one of the arms, Nancy sitting on the chair across from us, Dustin standing next to the couch, Robin sitting on the floor, leaning against the entertainment center, Max on the other side of the couch near the kitchen, and Lucas standing on the other side of Nancy by the door.

She looked traumatized as she explained what Vecna showed her. “He showed me things that haven’t happened yet. The most awful things. I saw a dark cloud spreading over Hawkins. Downtown on fire. Dead soldiers. And this… this giant creature with… a gaping mouth. And this creature wasn’t alone. There were so many monsters. An army, and they were coming into Hawkins, into our neighborhoods, our homes. And then he showed me my mom.”

I looked over at Dustin after she said that about her mom, fear in both of our eyes at our mom being hurt or worse… dead. I didn’t want to find my mom’s body because of Vecna because if I did, I wouldn’t stop looking for him to kill him right on site.

“And Holly… Mike,” Nancy continued. “And they… they were all…”

It was quiet for a moment while she quietly cried before Steve sighed next to me, saying, “Okay, but… he’s just trying to scare you, Nance. Right? I mean… I mean, it’s not real.”

“Not yet,” she whispered. “But there… there was something else.”

“Care to share with the rest of the class?” I asked.

“Liv, I’m getting there.” She looked down and around at nothing as she said, “He showed me gates. Four gates. Spreading across Hawkins. And these gates, they looked like the one outside of Eddie’s trailer, but they didn’t stop growing. And this wasn’t the Upside Down Hawkins. This was our Hawkins. Our home.”

I looked over at Steve, seeing him moving from the corner of my eye. His hands were at his mouth, one covering the other, his eyes closed. Wrapping my hand around his upper arm, I leaned my head against his shoulder, feeling the weight of what Nancy had explained.

“Four chimes,” Max said. Every single pair of eyes looked over at her, her words continuing, “Vecna’s clock. It always chimes four times. Four exactly.”

“I heard them, too,” Nancy whispered.

I sighed and closed my eyes, not really wanting to deal with any of this right now, but as I opened my eyes, I saw that we were all looking back at Nancy.

Taking a deep breath, I released it while picking my head up, saying, “He’s been telling us his plan this whole time.”

“Four kills,” Lucas said.

Turning my head to look at Lucas, all I could do was press my lips together, annoyed.

“Four gates,” he added, looking at Max.

Standing, I released an annoyed breath, walking to stand between Nancy and Lucas by the door. “I’ve been saying that for a couple days now. But no one listens to Olivia! It’s basically the end of the world.”

“Liv, if that’s true…” Dustin said. “He’s only one kill away.”

“Yeah, and who the hell do you think he’s gonna come back after.” I gestured towards Max. “Our lovely little redhead.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie said, burying his face in his hands. “Jesus Christ.”

“Try ‘em again,” Steve said.

Oh, did I mention that once we got to Max’s we tried calling the Byers’? No? Oh, well… we did, and no answer.

“Try ‘em again.”

Max went into the kitchen to try making that phone call again to the Byers as I heard my name being whispered. I looked over at Steve, knowing he was the one to call my name. Walking back towards the couch, he reached out his hand for me to take, which I gladly did.

I sat down between him and Eddie again just as Steve sat back on the cushions. He pulled me into him, getting into our normal sleeping position, just… sitting up on a couch.

A few seconds later, Dustin asked, “Anything?” to which Max replied, “No. Rang a few times, then went to busy signal.”

“Maybe you punched it in wrong,” Steve said. “Try it again.”

“I didn’t punch it in wrong,” Max replied.

“Well, I don’t know.”

“Dude, I think she knows how to use a phone,” Dustin said.

“I’m just saying, she could’ve typed it in wrong.”

Max had called again, so when I heard her hang up the phone again, I sighed. “Same shit,” she said.

“How is that possible?” Lucas asked.

“Maybe they’re actually busy, or they’re not home,” I said.

“No,” Dustin said. “I told you guys, Joyce has this telemarketer job. She’s always on the phone. Mike won’t stop whining about it.”

“Okay, yeah, but this phone’s been busy for, what, three days now?” Max said. “That’s not Joyce. No way. Something’s wrong.”

Taking a deep breath, I shifted on Steve, trying to get more comfortable. “Maybe they’re off on their own little adventure.”

“Max is right,” Nancy said. “It can’t be just coincidence. It can’t be.” She got up and walked to the front window, looking out of it as she continued, “Whatever’s happening in Lenora is connected to all of this. I’m sure of it. But Vecna can’t hurt them.”

“Doubt they know about Vecna,” I deadpan.

“Not if he’s dead.” Quickly turning back around to face the group, she said, “We have to go back in there. Back to the Upside Down.”

“Whoa, no, no, no, no, no,” Steve said as Eddie also said, “Nope.” Sighing, I stood and looked at her, all the seriousness I could muster in my eyes. “NO one is going back to the Upside Down. Not a fucking soul.”

Steve stood up and walked over to Nancy, standing in front of her. “Now, let’s think this through.”

“What is there to think through?” Nancy asked.

Moving to stand in between them, I looked at Nancy, rage in my eyes. “My boyfriend almost got murdered, Nancy! What if it was Jonathan! You wouldn’t go back in there!”

“She’s right,” Steve said. “We barely made it out of there in one piece.”

“Yeah, because we weren’t prepared,” Nancy said. “But this time, we will be. We’ll get weapons and protection. We’ll go through the gate, we’ll find his lair, and we’ll kill him.”

I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes at Nancy as Steve said, “Yeah, or he’ll kill us.”

“Are you fucking serious right now?” I asked. “The only fucking reason you survived was because he wanted you to. He’s not fucking scared of us.”

“Language,” Nancy said.

“And for good reason,” Robin said, standing. “We were wrong about Venca. Henry. One. Sorry, wh-what are we calling him now?”

About four people gave their opinion, confusing Robin, to which I said, “Robs, focus, babe.”

“Right.” Not sure who she directed that at, but I’ll take it. “We’ve learned something new about Vecna/Henry/One. He’s a number like Eleven, only a sick, evil, male, child-murdering version of her with really bad skin, but my-my-my-my point is, he’s super powerful. He could turn us inside out with the snap of his fingers. It’s not a fair fight.”

“So then why fight fair?” Dustin said. “You’re right, he’s like Eleven.”

“That gives us the upperhand,” I added. “We know her strengths, and weaknesses.”

“Weaknesses?” Erica asked.

“Yeah!” I said, a small smile appearing on my face. “When El remote travels–”

“She goes into this sort of trance-like state,” Dustin said.

“Bet it’s the same for Vecna.”

“That would explain what he was doing in that attic,” Lucas said.

“Exactly!” Dustin and I said. He continued with “When he attacks his next victim, I’ll bet’cha he’s back in that attic, physical body defenseless.”

“Defenseless?” Steve said. “Yeah, what about the army of bats?” He gestured to his neck, making me a little sad.

“Right?” Dustin said. “True, we’ll have to find a way past them. Distract them somehow.”

I sighed, now seriously aggravated. “No one is going back to the Upside Down!”

“And, uh, how do we do that, exactly?” Eddie asked.

“No idea.”

“By not going,” I added.

“Dearest sister, once they’re gone, he doesn’t stand a chance!” Dustin said. “It’ll be like slaying sleeping Dracula in his coffin!”

“That all sounds good in theory,” Robin said. “But there is no pattern to Vecna’s killings. I mean, at least not one that I can decipher.”

“She’s right,” I said. “You don’t know when he’s going to attack next. Or who, for that matter.”

Without missing a beat, Max said, “Yeah, we do.”

“No.”

“I can still feel him.”

“No.”

“I’m still… marked, Liv. Cursed.”

“Don’t even think about it,” I said, pointing in her direction.

Max continued, “I ditch Kate Bush, I draw his focus back to me.”

Tears sprung to my eyes as she said this. I could see why she wanted to, but I didn’t want her to basically sacrifice herself just for Vecna to be distracted for a moment. With a couple of tears streaming down my cheeks, I whispered, “Max.”

She looked at me before Lucas added, “You can’t.”

“He’ll kill you,” Lucas and I said.

“I survived before,” she said. After a few seconds, she added, “I can survive again.”

Wanting to rip my hair out, I made a frustrated grunt, while also wanting to throw or punch something.

“Liv–”

“No!”

“I just–I need to keep him busy long enough so that you guys can get into that attic. Then you can chop his head off, stab him in the heart, blow him up with some explosives Dustin and/or Liv cooks up. I honestly–I really don’t care how you put this asshole in his grave. Just… whatever it is… whatever you do…” She looked directly at me, eyes intensely locking on mine. “Try not to miss.”

Dropping my head back, as well as dropping my arms from their crossed position, I groaned before closing my eyes. Feeling hands on my shoulders, I picked my head up and opened my eyes, meeting Steve’s somewhat worried one. “You guys stress me out.”

~~~

Eddie had grabbed a phonebook, telling us all to gather over at the dining table. I was standing between him and Steve with everyone else crowding around us as Eddie slammed the book down onto the table, pointing to a spot on the page he had opened it up to, an advertisement for The War Zone. “Check this out. The War Zone. I’ve been there once. It’s huge. They got… everything you need for, uhh… well, uh, killing things, basically.”

“Fake Rambo got enough guns there, Eddie?” I asked. “Bro, is that a grenade?”

“I mean, how is any of this legal?” Robin asked on Eddie’s left side.

“Well, lucky for us it is, so…” Eddie said, sarcastically. “This-this place is just far enough outside of Hawkins.”

“Just as long as we steer clear of the main roads, we should be able to avoid the cops and angry hicks,” I said. At the looks everyone gave, I breathed in annoyance. “For Eddie, dumbasses.”

“If we’re trying to avoid angry hicks,” Erica said. “Maybe we shouldn’t go to some store called The War Zone.”

“Normally I’d agree, but we need the weapons,” Nancy said. “So, I think it’s worth the risk.”

“Me, too,” Lucas sighed.

Leaning onto the table with the palm of my hands, I chuckled while hanging my head forward, my chin meeting my collarbone. “You guys are still fucking nuts.”

“Language,” Nancy muttered.

“Coming from the girl who said bullshit about five times in a freaking row,” I said, picking up my head to look at Nancy. “You guys are nuts for wanting to venture back to the Upside Down, and for wanting to put Eddie’s life in danger.” Turning my eyes to my brother, I said, “Dustin, what’s your stance on this? I mean, Eddie’s your other older male best friend.”

“Is it worth the time? It’ll take all day to bike there and back,” he replied.

“Who said anything about bikes?” Eddie said.

“You got some sort of car we don’t know about?” Steve asked.

Standing up straight, Eddie looked over my head at Steve, smiling as he said, “It’s not exactly a car, Steve. And it’s not exactly mine, but, uh… it’ll do.” Turning around to face Max, Eddie said, “Hey, Red, uh, you got a ski mask or a bandana, something like that?”

Audibly taking a deep breath, I turned my head to look at her, a sly smile on my face. “You got that Halloween mask from ‘84?”

She smiled a little at me before going into her bedroom to retrieve the mask, giving it to Eddie, who went outside with all of us following him. We made it to the side of one of the trailers before he put the mask on, poking his head around the side, causing me to laugh quietly.

We ran past the trailer that was across the way from us before going around the side of an RV, Eddie jumping in first. As I jumped in with Steve’s help, I heard Eddie say, “That was suffocating,” after he discarded the Michael Myers mask.

I looked back, watching as Steve jumped in behind me, everyone else following after him as I followed Eddie to the front of the RV. Watching as Eddie reached under the steering wheel, I asked, “Whoa, hey, what’re you doing?” He cut a cord as his answer, my eyes going wide. “You’re hotwiring it?”

“Where’d you learn how to do this?” Steve asked.

“It’s simple,” I said. Silence filled the air for a moment as I looked back at Steve, who had his brows scrunched. “Oh, you weren’t asking me, okay.” Turning my head back to face Eddie, Steve said, “We’ll talk about that later.”

“Ed-Eddie? Wanna answer?” I said.

“Well, Henderson, when the other dads were teaching their kids how to fish or play ball, my old man was teaching me how to hotwire. Now, I swore to myself I wouldn’t wiiiind up like he did, but now I’m wanted for murder, and soon, grand theft auto. So, uhh, I’m really living up to that Munson name.” As he explained all this, he was cutting what he needed before brushing the wires against each other.

Robin came up behind us, saying, “Uh, Eddie, I’m not sure I love the idea of you driving.”

“Oh, I’m just starting this sucker,” Eddie said. “Harrington’s got her. Don’t ‘cha, big boy?”

I looked at Eddie, confused, as the engine started, the owners demanding us to open the door that Eddie had locked upon arrival inside the RV.

“Hey!”

“They locked the door!”

“Well, are we just gonna stand here and look pretty while they try to bust in and call the cops on Eddie, or are we actually gonna steal this fucking thing?” I asked.

“Shit, go,” Steve said, pushing Eddie out of the driver’s seat. I moved to sit in the passenger seat.

“Babe, it’s just a car,” I said, seeing the panic in his eyes.

“Everybody, hang on to something!” Steve yelled, turning to face the back for a moment.

I saw Nancy moving towards the front as I looked back to see where Dustin was sitting as Lucas said, “Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Let’s go! Let’s go!”

“Drive, Steve, driiiiiiiiiiiiiiive!” Dustin yelled.

I watched as Steve put the RV in drive before putting his foot on the gas pedal, sending the vehicle forward, Lucas’ repeating of the word “Go!”

“Shit, they look pissed,” Dustin said.

“I mean, it’s not everyday you lose your house and car in one fell swoop,” Robin said.

Even through my excited laughter, I still heard everything they said.

“Hold on, hold on, hold on!” Steve said. He swerved a little, running into the trash cans at the side of the road, before making the widest turn onto the main road, almost taking us off said road a couple times.

When my laughter eventually died down, I turned to look at Steve, chuckling, “Remind me to never let you drive an RV again.”

He chuckled while trying to get a feel for it. “Okay.”

~~~

The further we drove, the more stable the vehicle seemed to be, which told me that Steve was getting a handle on it. I couldn't help but smile at him as he got more comfortable with it. Almost reminded me of when he learned how to drive, how comfortable he got in his car after his parents gifted it to him.

I could feel Nancy’s eyes staring into me as I just looked at Steve, taking a deep breath to start a conversation. “How’s it handle, babe?”

“Not half bad,” he replied. “Considering that this is a… house.”

I chuckled. “Was that a sarcastic comment I just heard?” I watched the corner of his mouth lift up a little, a quick and quiet chuckle coming from him. The moment it was quiet, I listened to the radio, singing along to what was playing on the radio, “They let me know you were gone.”

Sighing happily, I turned my head over my shoulder to look at Steve, smiling. “Do you remember when we were in, like, 7th grade and we heard this song for the first time?”

I saw the look on his face like he was thinking about it. “What’s this song again?”

“Fire and Rain by James Taylor. I remember just sitting in your room one night and this song came on the radio, and I instantly fell in love with it.” I knew he remembered what the song was, but telling him the first time I ever heard this song will forever be my favorite. That was also the night I knew I liked him as more than a friend.

“I know you know a lot about me and my… dreams, or whatever, but I don’t think I’ve ever told you this,” he said.

“Told me what?” I asked, turning a little to face him.

“Ya’know, it’s… it’s silly, but I… I’ve actually, uhm… I always had this dream that I’d have this really… really big family,” he explained. “I’m talking like a full brood of Harringtons. Like, five, six kids.”

“Six?” I asked, incredulously with my brows raised.

“Yeah. Six little nuggets. Three girls, three boys.” He chuckled as he continued, “And-and every summer, I figured all of us Harringtons, we would pack into something like this and… just see the country.”

I looked at him, falling even more in love with him as he continued, “Ya’know, the Rockies, Grand Canyon, maybe Yellowstone.” He looked at me for a moment, that same look in his eyes that I was giving him. “End up in some beachside town in California. Spend a week parked in the sand. Learn how to surf or something.”

“I could see you surfing,” I said, quietly, after a moment before adding, “But, that sounds amazing.”

He looked at me, asking, “Yeah?”

I nodded my head, smiling. “Yeah.” I wanted to lean over and kiss him stupid, but couldn’t or else we’d crash. “Uhm, except for that six kid part. I love you, but that sounds like a total nightmare with a migraine.”

He looked in the back of the RV for a quick second, saying, “If only I had some practice.”

Looking back at everyone in the back, I smirked, chuckling to myself. “Yep, that’s fair.” I stretched my hand out for him to take, to which he quickly did, lacing our fingers together.

“I would kiss your hand, but I’d drag you out of your seat,” he said, chuckling, looking at me for a moment.

“I wouldn’t mind.”

He turned his head back to look out at the road as I started to sing along to the song once more, turning my own head to look out at the road.

~~~

I guess I had dozed off or something because I was being woken up by Steve whispering my name, saying that we were at War Zone. He gave me the option of staying with Dustin or coming inside. I chose the latter. Dustin could take care of himself, but that didn’t stop me from telling him to not draw attention to the RV.

Erica, myself, Steve, Max, Robin and Nancy went inside the store after having parked out back. We stood there as we all looked around, seeing a shit ton of people inside.

“So much for avoiding angry hicks,” Robin said.

“Let’s just get what we need and leave,” I said. “And, please, don’t draw attention to yourself.”

“Let’s be… fast,” Nancy said.

“Yup,” Robin added.

“Definitely,” Erica retorted.

Steve took my hand and led me to the men’s clothing section, where he picked out a leather jacket, a camo style shirt, a random pair of socks and some combat boots. After I had found a similar outfit for me that was more my style, we found Robin putting some gas cans into the buggy.

“How many of these do you think we need?” she asked.

“Five or six,” Steve answered, putting a couple more into the buggy.

I noticed Robin standing still, looking off, so I looked in the direction she was looking in before looking back and forth between her and the girl she was looking at as I remembered who that girl was. “What’cha gonna do, Robs?”

“Just stand here and gawk at her?” Steve added.

“Shut up,” she said. She took one step forward before stopping, some guy having come up to Vickie, scaring her.

The three of us watched their interaction, my excitement dwindling as I felt Robin’s confidence start to plummet. We watched them kiss, my heart breaking for Robin. I wanted to kill that boy for interrupting the moment Robin was having.

Vickie turned to look at us - well, Robin - before her boyfriend decided to do so as well, my best friend turning and running away from us as Steve and I called her name.

Erica found us a couple of minutes later, saying that Jason and his basketball buddies were in the store. Once we found Nancy, we all hauled ass out of the store, paying of course, all of our gear in all of our hands as we booked it back to the RV.

Steve opened the door, walking in first as Lucas asked what happened. “We gotta go.”

“Your old friends are here,” Erica said, sitting next to her brother.

I walked in the RV, going to sit in the passenger seat, Nancy having beat me to it. Thank God Robin had called her name, giving her a look that made her roll her eyes before getting up. I sat down as Max climbed in, closing the door.

~~~

Steve found a big ass piece of land to hide out at, everyone getting out to set up different stations, I guess. Nancy and Max were at one station with the shotgun we had purchased, Lucas and Erica making spears with knives and big ass sticks at another, Eddie and Dustin making shields out of metal trash can lids at a third station, while Steve, Robin and myself were sitting in front of the RV making homemade molotov cocktails with gasoline.

We were sitting on various flat items as we did our task; Steve to my right, Robin to my left. It was quiet for a moment between the three of us as Robin was pouring the gasoline into the bottle that was in my hand. I was looking at Steve as he was contemplating something before he spoke.

“It just doesn’t make sense,” he said.

“What doesn’t make sense,” Robin and I asked.

“That was Dan Shelter. He graduated, like, two years ago.”

“And you’re hung up on this why?” I asked.

“Because he’s in college, babe, which means he was visiting on Spring Break. I mean, wouldn’t you visit me if you were in college?”

I sighed. “Yes, but I’m not.”

“Anyway, Fast Times was returned, like, I don’t know, a week ago?” Steve said. “Right? Unless she’s got some horndog brother that we don’t know about. Which is possible. Or she’s just, like, really into Judge Reinhold?”

I watched Robin’s reaction as he went on about Vickie’s boyfriend. “Babe, I love you and this outfit is, like, top tier, but if you don’t stop talking, I’m gonna murder you in your sleep,” I said.

“Steve,” Robin said, eyes closed in what is clearly discomfort.

Steve looked over at her, asking, “What?”

“I don’t care,” she said. “And I don’t understand why you do either with everything that’s going on. Honestly, this feels like the perfect time for that little pull of the rug… because in the face of the world ending, the stakes of my love life feel spectacularly low.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, looking down. “I mean, I get you there, but… I still have hope.”

I gave Robin the bottle that I put a cloth in before Steve handed me another one. “Not everything has a happy ending,” I said.

“Yeah, yeah, believe me, I know,” Steve said, looking in front of him before back down at my hands.

I sighed in annoyance. “She’s not talking about failed romance, babe. Besides, you have me now.”

“She’s right,” Robin said, pouring the liquid into the clear bottle. “I have this terrible, gnawing feeling that…” She stopped pouring to look Steve in the eyes as she continued, “It might not work out for us this time.”

“Robin, stop,” I whispered, setting the bottle down on the ground to stand and pace in front of them.

“You think we shouldn’t be doing this?” Steve asked.

Without missing a beat, I turned my head in their direction to say a hard and quick, “No!”

“I think we’re mad fools, the lot of us, but…” Robin said, starting to pour the gas again, but stopped after her statement to sigh and look out at everyone to add, “if we don’t stop him, who will?” She looked back at Steve, saying, “We have to try, right?”

I stopped my pacing to look at my boyfriend, seeing him nodding his head ever so slightly before looking over at Robin to say, “Yeah.” He lifted the bottle in his hand before saying, “To killing Vecna.”

She grabbed one of the bottles next to her, holding it up, replying, “Slash Henry.”

They both turned their eyes to me, an expectant look in their eyes. I sighed exasperatedly and walked over to Robin, picking up another cocktail we had prepared, holding it up in the air as I walked to stand in between them, saying, “Slash One.” We clinked our bottles, Robin and I setting ours back on the ground.

I honestly didn’t know what else to do, so I walked into the RV, running my fingers through my hair once I was inside, my pacing starting up again. I didn’t even realize I had started crying or that someone had walked into the RV with me until my face was being buried into the person's chest.

I knew that person was Steve. I felt his hand on the back of my head and his lips on the top of my head. Wrapping my arms around his middle, I let out a quiet sob that made him hold me a little tighter.

“I know,” he whispered. “I’m scared, too.”

“I’m not scared for myself,” I whispered back to him. “I’m scared for Max.” Looking up at him, I felt a tear slide down my cheek as I sniffled. “She’s just a kid.”

“I know, baby, but she’s a strong kid.”

Sighing, I looked at a spot on his shirt for a moment before closing my eyes. “I’m also scared of losing you,” I whispered. It was so soft, I wondered if he heard me or not.

I got my answer as he replied, “Hey, look at me,” while putting his finger under my chin, lifting my head up so that our eyes could meet. Shaking his head while cupping my cheeks, he said, “You’re not going to lose me, you’re never going to lose me.”

I placed my hands on his wrists, more tears streaming down my face. “Do you promise?”

He nodded, quickly. “I promise. I have to kiss you stupid for the rest of our lives.”

I chuckled through my tears, sighing. “I like it when you kiss me stupid.”

~~~

I couldn’t tell you how long Steve and I held each other in the RV before the sun started to set. Everyone pretty much sat in the same seats we were all in before. Shit was getting real and our situation was starting to set in as we drove to the Creel house to drop off Max, Lucas and Erica so that they could execute their part of the plan.

Feeling Steve’s eyes on me, I looked over at him, giving a shy smile, the words “I love you” being whispered from his lips. I whispered them back before sighing.

This was going to be a long night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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A/N 2: hi, friends! pls be kind and reblog! it really helps us content creators out <3

Additional Note: i just wanted to say a quick thank you to my readers on this series for being incredibly patient with me these last few weeks. i've been under a lot of stress, and i think it all just came to a head when my kids were a couple days out from spending time with my dad. my anxiety and depression took a hit because of it. i'm sorry everything is coming out late. it was not my intention. thank you sticking around. it means more to me than you truly realize.

~~~

Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24 @stixnstripesworld @fandom-princess-forevermore @quanticobae @mischiefandi @kellyashcroft @lauren-novak

Steve Harrington Taglist: @madaboutjoe

If you’re tagged and didn’t want to be, please let me know.

~~~

*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @harringtonstilinski.

All characters, story lines, and plot aside from y/n and her storyline & plot, are all of the work of The Duffer Brothers.

*These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.

No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

Posted on June 10, 2024 *Happy Pride Month to those who celebrate!*

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crowtrobotx · 6 months ago

Text

Happy Father's Day only to Karl Heisenberg. I wrote a little oc x canon ficlet this morning to deal with some ~feelings~ and I thought maybe someone might also enjoy it. This can be considered a Check Engine-AU-AU, lol, otherwise known as "Mechanic!Karl no Village." Word Count: 2166 Warnings: Nothing significant but if the subject of pregnancy isn't your thing you probably won't have a good time. ~~~~~~~~ Come on. Where are you, jackass? Kris’s fingers fidgeted nervously with a loose thread at the hem of her dress, eyes laser focused on the empty driveway from her perch on the living room couch. Sweat beaded on the back of her neck beneath the wild tangle of curls in spite of the air conditioning, cranked a rebellious one degree lower than normal out of desperation. She winced. That singular digit might have been the only thing that was preventing her from hurling onto the freshly cleaned hardwood floor.

It was a deceptively lovely summer day outside, the only hint of how truly unpleasant the weather was buried somewhere in the incessant screaming of the cicadas crawling all over the trees that enveloped their property. The heat waves radiating from the asphalt made her feel lightheaded just looking at it - how Karl worked in that stuffy garage all day, in those frustratingly attractive coveralls, without passing out was a mystery to her even after all these years. Maybe he finally did die of heatstroke. Would explain why he’s late, today of all days. Her stomach churned miserably.

She knew she was taking this all far too seriously. It didn’t have to be perfect - she could just tell him outright, like a sane person, but unfortunately she’d gone on Pinterest one too many times over the last couple of days in an attempt to quell her bubbling anxiety and it had all gone to shit from there.

Maybe it was how unexpectedly long it had taken. Perhaps it was the fact that she’d finally convinced herself it wasn’t actually a dream, that it was really happening and she wasn’t going to wake up in a cold sweat. Regardless, she’d put a silly amount of effort into this already - and spent her coffee money at the dollar store - so dammit, it had to turn out cute at the very least. She smoothed out the black linen fabric over her belly, hand lingering a moment longer than normal.

The glint of a windshield from the road had her sitting up like an excited dog. Sturm, snoring away on his well-chewed pet bed to her side, didn’t react at all. She’d been faked out by a school bus once already, but the harsh rattle of the perpetually fucked muffler on Karl’s impossibly old pick-up was, for once, like music to her ears. The truck rolled into view, prompting Kris to shakily rise to her feet and make for the kitchen.

“Okay,” she exhaled slowly, trying to steady the flutter in her chest. “It’s fine. You’re fine. It’s going to be fine.”

The outfit: adorable. The setup: in place. The lines she’d rehearsed in the lukewarm bath this morning until she’d gone hoarse: memorized. She could not fuck this up - if she did, she might simply melt into a puddle with all that remained of her being a pair of cartoon blinking eyes.

Get your shit together. These things never go as planned. He’s going to know something is up because you’ve been home alone all day and you did your hair and makeup instead of embracing the slug girl aesthetic, anyway.

Kris grimaced at her own inner voice, ceding that perhaps it was correct. She awkwardly milled about the room: leaning on the counter, deciding it looked too suspicious, picking up a knife, deciding it looked too insane. Footfalls growing louder toward the side door had her panicked and she at last decided to busy herself washing out an already cleaned coffee mug over the sink.

You can do this. What did Linda call you last time you were in office? A boss bitch? Lull him into a false sense of security. Pretend like you’re a respectable housewife and not a foul-mouthed nasty bitch someone was stupid enough to marry.

The screen door banged open, its rusty hinges surviving yet another assault from her careless husband’s grip. The man himself finally appeared, his outgrown beard and wiry silver waves a total mess from the heat and his work. Still, he didn’t seem agitated - a good sign. Otherwise Kris would have put off her little plan until later, unwilling to take unnecessary risks with something so precious. This would be her Instagram-worthy moment, dammit.

“Honey,” Karl’s loud croon shattered the peaceful silence that had reigned all day, “I’m home!”

God, he was revolting. Kris couldn’t help but to set the cup down and nearly dash to his waiting arms. He caught her in a near crushing bear hug, looking quite pleased with her reaction. She saved the ooey-gooey greetings for special occasions - she couldn’t let the man get even cockier, after all, and she had a reputation to uphold.

“You’re sweaty,” she observed, head finding purchase on his chest all the same, finding comfort in the familiar. “And you stink.”

“Sure do,” he said with a little too much pride. He ran a hand - probably grease-covered, by the looks of it; thank God I’m wearing black - down her back and hummed thoughtfully. “But you, on the other hand, look cute as a button. What’s the occasion? Did I do something nice and not remember?”

Kris untangled herself from his grasp, trying her best to look disinterested and unaffected. With a wave of her hand she returned to the kitchen sink, this time feigning interest in putting away the dishes, and cast a lidded look at him over her shoulder. She hoped her concealer was hiding her heat in her cheeks and making her act more believable. “It’s hot and I got bored,” she lied. Why do I feel like dragging his smelly ass to the floor with me right now?

Karl’s toolbelt hit the linoleum with a loud clang. In a couple of confident strides he was at her back, hands shamelessly trying to find purchase at her hips again. “Aww, did my girl get lonely without me? I can fix that for you, y’know… I don’t mind.” His fuzzy jaw nuzzled into her neck, the edges of his lips curling into a smarmy grin.

Of course - if one thing was going to ruin this, it would be the thing that had caused the situation to begin with: Karl’s dick.

Kris thwacked him playfully on the thigh with the nearest tea towel and rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the traitorous warmth pooling deep in her abdomen. “You know the rules. Not until you’re not going to stain my poor clothes with all those oil splotches. Then we’ll talk.”

“Fine,” he sighed dramatically. She’d known him long enough to recognize false exasperation - he didn’t like messing up her pretty outfits, either. Karl turned to make his way to the bedroom when Kris caught his arm, putting on her best surprised face and tone.

“Oh! I almost forgot, can you help me out really quick? There’s something that needs to come out of the oven and I’ve got to finish this.”

“It’s ten steps away, doll- OUCH! You and that damn towel. Yeah, sure. One sec.”

Kris held her breath as he stomped across the room, rubbing his leg where she’d nailed him yet again. This was it. Her picture perfect moment. Even Sturm had managed to lift his greying head to peer curiously from the living room.

Karl opened the range. The singular honey bun sitting on the pain looked comically out of place, but that was the point - there was absolutely no way he could ignore it. Kris nearly shattered the dish in her hands, so tight did her fraying nerves make her grip.

“Oh, sweet,” Karl said, before picking the pastry up and taking a bite. “I was starvin’ after all those tire rotations today. Thanks!”

He resumed his trek upstairs, whistling contentedly. Sturm stared at her with a look that conveyed a sort of pity before resuming his daily 18 hours of beauty rest. Even the shriek of insects outside seemed to have dulled to a quiet hum out of respect for whatever remained of Kris’s dignity. She wordlessly placed the plate onto the counter, a mixture of resignation, rage, and outright bewilderment swirling in her chest.

He did not just do that. You hallucinated it in a hormonal fugue. There’s no way.

She had accounted for what she thought was every likely outcome. Unbridled excitement, tears, perhaps disbelief. Even that he would be angry - not truly angry, of course, but it was the emotion he defaulted to whenever he wasn’t sure how to handle whatever feelings were rushing through him, however positive.

She had not, however, considered the possibility that he was more stupid than the bag of hammers hanging above his workbench.

“Karl,” she croaked out just as he reached the landing at the bottom of the stairs.

He paused and peeked his head around to face her, crumbs somehow already decorating his beard. “What?”

Kris flexed her fingers and inhaled slowly to steady her voice. “Could you come here again please?”

When Karl returned to the kitchen, it took everything in her not to throat-punch him. He was simultaneously the smartest and dumbest man she had ever met - in spite of his horrific personality, everyone in town came to him for their mechanical needs because absolutely no one knew their way around an engine like he did. And yet here she was, trying to convey an extremely obvious plot twist to absolutely no avail while he stuffed his face.

“Can you tell me what you’re holding?” she asked, the strain in her tone causing her voice to sound unnaturally high.

Karl swallowed. He rotated the bread, eyeing it somewhat nervously as if he feared it might now explode. “It’s… a roll?”

“Well… some might say a bun.” Kris was getting desperate. Her new favorite hobby of vomiting was feeling like more and more of a possibility with every passing second. At least it would get her out of this situation.

“A bun,” Karl repeated.

She waited for him to do the math before giving in to his helpless, slightly annoyed look.

“Yes. A bun. From the oven.”

“That’s usually where they come from, babe. Did you hit that pretty little head of yours while I was at work today or what?”

Another silence. Kris swore to herself that she was going to throw this man through the second floor window.

“You found the bun…” Kris gestured, indicating that she intended him to finish her sentence.

“In the oven,” they both said at once. For a brief, tantalizing moment, Kris thought it had finally worked. She had been fully prepared to snatch the little wrapped test hidden in the utensils drawer and gift it to him in a sickeningly sweet gesture worthy of a Hallmark movie, until she noticed the completely clueless look on his face hadn’t yet retreated.

Are you fucking-

“Was it not for me?” Karl ventured at last. “Uh, s-sorry. Guess I shoulda asked. I can get you another one at the corner mart on my way home tomorrow if you want.”

“I do not want a gas station dessert, thankyouverymuch,” Kris hissed. The thought of what Karl-tier food might do to her already compromised digestive system sent a shiver down her spine. “I am trying to- you know what, never mind. I’m glad you liked it.”

“Ohhhhh,” Karl suddenly cooed, wrapping an arm around her waist and leaning in to peck the tip of her nose. “Wait. I get it now.”

Cautious relief relaxed Kris’s shoulders. She batted her lashes at him and made a soft questioning sound, feigning innocence.

“You want a new oven. Why didn’t you say so? I got enough parts in that shed out back to make you ten if you want. Anything for my gal!” Karl’s grin was begging to be slapped right off his stupid, handsome face.

Instead, and with all the strength she had in reserve, Kris simply shut her eyes and lightly patted her husband’s chest. We’re going to call this a practice run. That’s all. “A new oven would be lovely. You’re the best, Heisy-bear.”

Karl winked before happily popping the rest of the bun in his mouth and reclaiming his usual air of off-putting flirtatiousness.

“You know it is kinda weird that you just made one,” he spat around the mouthful as he patted her cheek. “But I know you don’t like summers, pumpkin. Fries your brain and makes you do weird shit. ‘S okay, I still love you”

“Thank goodness for that.”

Kris waited until he was out of sight before allowing herself a brief, silent scream into her palms. Sturm hobbled into the kitchen at last, his three paws tapping rhythmically as he presented her one of his well-loved chew toys as a kind of consolation prize. She sighed, and at last allowed herself a laugh at the absurdity of it all.

“Thanks, boy,” she whispered, bending to scratch the dog’s velvety ears. “Well, time for plan B, I suppose. Do you know where I can buy a mini toolkit?”

#okay to rb but i'm not going to put this in the main tags bc there have been too many weird cruel people in there recently #as always sorry if the formatting is weird. tumblr went nuts on me trying to post this.#i really need a consistent canon x oc tag. maybe...#murder mom & murder dad

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