#house of wax x daughter

[loveandmurders]

Hey I love your writing I know your busy at the moment but do you think you could do something like Missing piece but with Sinclair Daughter!reader where reader got taken by csp or something and they come back with their adopted family.

Hello love! Thank you so much for this request <3 I had so much fun writing for this that I did a little series in which you are Bo's daughter and you got taken away by your mother and then by social care.

I really hope that you'll enjoy it! <3

THE SUN OF AMBROSE (Part I)

Warnings: ANGST and more ANGST, no proof reading, mute!reader, mentions of suicide, death and violence, quick mentions of domestic violence, difficult childhood, sadness, despair and anger

“Are you alright, hon? What are you thinking about?” your adoptive mother asked you.

You were sitting on the porch, looking into the distance. She sat next to you as you shrugged.

“Are you not cold?” she asked you again and you shook your head. She kissed the top of your head before getting up.

“Don’t stay here for too long, ok? You need to get some rest too” she hummed and you nodded. You waited for her to come back inside before laying down on the ground, looking at the sky. 

You were silent now, almost completely mute.

You hadn’t always been like that though. When you were a young child, you were chatting around all the time. You were babbling to Lester about the nicest insects you saw or about what art project you started with Vincent. You were also happily asking questions to your dad about absolutely anything because you were certain that Bo had to know everything. You were telling all your little secrets to Vincent because you trusted him with them and your feelings. You were laughing around with your mother as she was cracking jokes for you. You were happy, you were solar. You were “the sun of Ambrose” as your uncles and father would call you. 

The Sinclairs couldn’t imagine a day without you; your presence was making everything so much better. You were too young to realise what your family was doing with the tourists, but you knew it was bad because your parents didn't want you out of the house when people were coming in. And Vincent needed to authorise you into the basement before you could come down. Your father always told you he would explain everything to you when you were a big girl, and you accepted this answer because Bo never lied to you before. You were aware that everytime people were coming in, there were new sculptures in the House of Wax though. 

But you were happy and loved; and when you are a child, it really all that matters. You couldn’t wait to be a grown up so you could help your dad with his business, but other than that, everything was perfect for you.

Until it wasn’t anymore.

Things had changed so much. You didn’t live in Ambrose and you often wondered if the House of Wax was still doing good, if your family was still doing good. You wondered if they missed you like you missed them. A hole inside your chest was constantly making you feel sick, but you couldn't do anything about it. No one could do anything about it.

You missed the nickname of “the sun of Ambrose” quite a lot too. The little necklace around your neck, in the form of a sun, was there to give you some comfort.This jewel has been a gift from your parents when you were 7 years old. And you have never removed it since then. 

And you wouldn’t now because it was the only thing left from your previous life. You weren’t even called a Sinclair anymore. It was as if everything had been a dream and you woke up pretty roughly when you were 9.

You didn’t truly remember everything that happened. You just knew that everything was going alright, you were safe in your family’s arms, you were loved, you were happy. And the next morning, your mother was gently waking you up.

She told you she needed you to come with her, that she had planned a secret birthday gift for your father and you were part of it. Didn’t your father call you “the best thing life ever gifted him” after all?

However, you needed to stay quiet, so no one would notice you were both leaving the house, so early on this Sunday morning. You obeyed your mother, no matter how hard it was for you to stay fully quiet, but you didn’t want to ruin the surprise for Bo. You were softly giggling behind your hand, innocent of what was truly happening. You left the house with your mother. She settled you in her car and drove away. You were getting curious as you were going away from Ambrose. You used to leave Ambrose only to go to Lester’s place or to go look for road kills with your uncle, but you never went so far away. Your mother wasn’t answering your questions either. You started to get upset with her and you wanted to come back home. It wasn’t fun anymore. 

At some point, she stopped in front of a big building and asked you to stay there. You obeyed again because you used to trust the adults in your life, fidgeting with your fingers and the rime of your cute little dress. You saw your mother entering the building and you felt uneasy. You weren’t too sure what kind of gift it was, but you wanted to come home very quickly. You hoped your mother let at least know Vincent or Lester where you were. A little voice inside your head told you that they couldn’t know, otherwise you wouldn’t be there. But you left the house very easily, so they had to know, right? Or maybe Vincent and Bo were too exhausted from the hunt of the day before, and Lester wasn’t home, to notice you were gone with your mother.

You jumped when you heard a gunshot and screams coming from inside the building. You knew those sounds quite well, but it didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel like usual. You weren’t at home, you weren’t safe. You looked for your mother’s phone but you didn’t find it. You started to worry so you got out of the car and started to look around. You didn’t know what to do. Fear took possession of you when people you didn’t know ran to you. You were so terrified you didn’t fly away. You wouldn’t have been able to go far anyway, not under the burning sun, not with your cute little shoes and cute little dress. You silently prayed for your father to come get you soon.

You didn’t remember much of this moment, all happened in a quick blurr. You just remembered how terrifying it was that there were so many people checking on you and asking you questions. You told them you wanted your dad and your mom and you started to cry. No one listened to you and your dad never came to get you.

It was the last time you ever used your voice, after that, you grew mute. You cried even more when they took you away from the car and brought you inside the building. You were in an unfamiliar world, full of people who had no love for you. You were alone and powerless in the middle of adults who weren’t always nice to you. You were living your worst nightmare, without any hope to wake up anytime soon.

You spent days, weeks, months being asked questions about yourself, your family and where you came from. From those interrogations, you understood quite a few things:

No one knew anything about you, not even that you existed. You were like a ghost. Y/N Sinclair wasn’t registered anywhere. Actually, officially, there were no more Sinclair in the region. They disappeared like Ambrose disappeared from the maps. But why would the world need to know about you, when Ambrose was already your world?

Your mother went into the social care centre, told them she brought with her her child who was in danger, because your father was a killer. She told them the Sinclairs were abusive and violent people. Then she killed herself with a gun she stole from Bo. You didn’t know if it was true that the Sinclairs were abusive to her, because you never saw them hurting her. Maybe they hid this dark side of them from you because you were their heir. You didn’t believe your father was a killer though, how could he be when he loved you so much?

Your father always told you to keep Ambrose a secret, no matter what. He knew you would go to college or to university at some point - even if he wasn’t too happy with the idea - so he needed to make sure you wouldn’t say anything. It was the only promise you ever made to him, so when people started to ask you questions, you knew you had to stay silent or you would put your family in danger. And you didn’t want anything to happen to your father and uncles, otherwise how could they come get you and save you from this hell?

You had never cried so much in your life before, and now it was the only thing making people stop asking you questions. They did physical tests to make sure your mutism was psychological, which it was. They truly believed you were so shocked by what happened in your life, that you couldn’t talk anymore. However, the fact you already knew ASL - thanks to Vincent - made them wonder. The fact you refused to say anything about the Sinclairs too. You were a mystery no one seemed able to solve, a mystery that didn’t want to be solved actually.

You were relieved when you realised that even the police couldn’t find Ambrose, and hence your family. You didn’t understand when the police told you you had been sequestrated by your father. Yes, you used to be homeschooled, but you were happy. And no one ever hurt you before. And your father always told you that the rest of the world was a threat and dangerous for you. You believed him and now you could see how right he was.

You didn’t even cry for your mother’s death, because she betrayed you, your father and the family. And your father told you that family was everything and that you were everything to him. You were proud to be his daughter, his heir, his legacy. 

Now, you were nothing.

You didn’t know if the Sinclairs knew what happened. But after several months, you guessed they had no idea where you were or they would have already got you back home. You would never know how Bo reacted when he saw his daughter gone, how he broke everything in Ambrose out of pure pain, how Vincent grew even more merciless to tourists, how Lester never asked himself anymore if it was alright to kill people. Killers without their sun only grew even more destructive.

Bo never stopped bringing gifts for you in your bedroom; a bedroom he never touched since your departure. Everything was like you left it, because he was still hoping all of this was a nightmare. Or maybe he was dead and this was hell and his personal punishment. If only he was truly dead, he thought more than once.

At some point, people stopped asking you questions, but you stayed silent, as if something died inside of you, or at least stayed in Ambrose. Talking was betraying your family, and you couldn’t be a traitor like your mother.

Life has been happy and easy. Now things were different. 

You moved from place to place, from family to family. You were lucky enough to never be abused, but there was no joy and no laughter in your life anymore. Life was rough and children growing up around you, even rougher. The worst were the adults of course, because they thought they knew everything about you when they knew nothing. They thought you were a traumatised little girl, they thought you were a lost darling whose mother found social care before killing herself in front of everyone. They thought you were broken.

Two years later, you finally got adopted. 

Everyone said you were so lucky to get adopted away so quickly and that you should be grateful that a couple decided to take you with them. You weren’t sure you were happy about it or not. 

You couldn’t stop thinking about your real parents. 

You never stopped wondering why your mother did what she did. If she wanted to kill herself, she could have done it without bringing you down with her. She might have believed she was saving you from hell. But “hell” was your home, and the only place you wanted to be. Hell was soft to you.

You wondered if your father found a new wife and got a new baby. You knew how important it was for him and your uncle Vincent to have an “heir”. Now you were gone, so they needed to replace you. You couldn’t replace them.

What if they never looked for you and that was why you never saw them again? What if you weren’t that important to them? What if the police found them? What if they got killed because of some tourists?

Those questions were driving you crazy at night and there was nothing you could do about them.

Your adoptive family was good to you though. 

Not good like the Sinclairs used to be, of course, but they tried their best with you. They made sure you were doing good at school and that no one bullied you because of your past, or because you were mute. They learnt ASL for you. 

But they didn’t call you their sun and they didn’t talk about legacy. They didn’t praise you everyday, they didn’t have a limitless amount of patience with you, they didn’t allow you to be fully yourself.

They even forced you to stay calm. 

Sometimes, you could get angry, mad, or violent. Bo would have allowed you to get crazy so you would feel better. But in a normal world, you had to see a doctor and to take meds. But you didn’t want that, you didn’t want to believe you were simply so truly broken, you needed meds to be normal. You didn’t even want to be normal. And more than anything, you were tired of people talking about you in front of you without addressing you, you were tired of the other children whispering in your back, you were tired of people telling you what to do.

You were tired of being a prey when your father promised you you would be a huntress. You kept the anger for you and you let it burn you from the inside. You tried to play the role of the perfect and cute little angel so your parents would stop bringing you to the doctors and they would stop making sure you take your meds.

It worked. Of course, it worked, because you were a smart and dangerous girl. 

You were a Sinclair. And you would forever be one.

However, one day, the anger got too strong.

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PART II

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Taglist: @murder-hobo - @lacychick ; @magical-sass ; @limehaspassed ; @loveinglymessedup ; @bloodmoon-bites ; @iwantsleepplz ; @kawaistrawberry21

[n3kk1tty]

"Imagine being the adopted Daughter of the Sinclair brothers showing up in Travis county one day after buying a piece of land and a home to start a new life for you and your fathers. "

Thomas Hewitt x Reader

Ambrose burned down that night and you were lucky to escape with what you did. Your twin father's clinging to life as tears streamed down your face tearing out of there before the cops could show ripping your family from you. You made sure you wouldn't be followed. No one would find your family and take them from you. You had grabbed what you could in the hours before departure after pulling your father's to safety and killing one of the survivors. You and Lester filled two cars with what you could before setting the whole town ablaze in a finale good bye. Your family home and town in mass flames as nothing would survive. Too many bodies to determine if you all had died in the fire or not.

You were a smart girl and had dreams of one day leaving the nest you just didn't think this is how it would turn out. When your fathers Vincent and Bo came to you were already across Louisiana state lines into Texas with your father Lester following in his truck. In the aftermath your family had found another ghost town to set up in. You were happy your years of prep for a life on the road had paid off as you had a lot of money to spare to help start this new chapter. You were practically tossed the keys to the house and land for cheap as everyone was abandoning this town, happy to sell for nothing. Bo took long to adjust to the change, getting into fits at having nonstop maintenance to do on the house and new garage. While Vincent lamented at the tragedy of what happened and how all his art was gone.

You had managed to snag only a small box of your fathers tools and art journals in the fire but had made sure on a trip to pick him up new art mediums when you went towns over for supplies one day. You remember how hard the quiet man hugged you when you awkwardly showed up in his basement room with a box of different art mediums. Signing to your father while you spoke. " I know it doesn't replace what we lost that night. But maybe it's time to try new mediums just like our new beginning. I love you dad." After that day Vincent would dive into new mediums every time you brought him some. He quickly took up wood carving and mask making to replace his wax prosthetic while using his oil pastels to draw the texas sunsets.

You and your father Lester were the most positive of the family about the move. You did your best to make the house a home and to keep the family together while Lester got work a ways out picking up road kill just like he used to. The only piece of mind with him having such a long commute was the fact Jonesy was always with him and he was just a call away. Your family lived in the quiet town for a few months blissfully unaware of your cannibal neighbors lurking in the ghost town as well. That was until you started frequenting the corner store for goods. Things like nails, cigarettes, and beer became a regular on a trip for you to do as Bo was always asking you to pick up things while he stayed home mumbling to himself.

It wasn't till your third trip did Luda Mae start questioning you. You brought the beer to the counter pointing to the cigarette brand your father liked. " A husband at home who likes to drink and smoke missy?" You let out a small laugh in response to the older woman. " No, no. Sadly not Married nor dating Ma'am these are just for my father. He's been working on our house and having me go fetch him things. " The woman perks up behind the counter. " Working on a house you say. That wouldn't be in this town would it. Ain't hardly anyone left let alone new comers. " You lean across the counter the sweetest smile you could muster in your face.

" We actually like the quietness of the town. Haven't had time to meet our neighbors though after moving in a couple of months ago. We've been too busy trying to get the house in order. I think I have already lost count of the days with how much I've been in my garden or kitchen all day. " The older woman pulls in a seat motioning for you to sit with her at the counter as she interrogates you. " So you like keeping yourself busy? Is it just you and your father and mother in the house, I know I'll be losing track of days myself keeping up with the three boys in my house. "

You laugh as you shyly scratch your head. " No ma'am. Never had a mother before. I'm a little embarrassed to admit it but I'm adopted by three brothers. They kinda found me abandoned when I was younger in this roadkill dumping ground and when they brought me home none of them could decide who the father would be so they are all just kind of my dad's. Now I know that must be a little strange and off putting to most but I sware that's my life. Though I guess legally my Pa Bo is my father as he took me to appointments when I was little. "

The woman could feel her maternal instincts fluttering in her chest as she schemed a way to make you her daughter. Luda Mae was determined to be the mother you never had, or even mother in law. " Oh that sounds like something silly three men would do. Must have been tough growing up with no mother. " You sigh to yourself as you think back to the home you can never return to a sadness hurting your heart. " I mean my father's certainly struggled teaching me to be lady-like. If it wasn't for my dad Vincent I'd probably still be running around in a baseball cap and boy clothes being a wild child. He used to fuss for hours learning how to style my hair like all the other little girls and make me dresses to wear since sometimes money got tight. "

" Oh you poor thing. What brings y'all to Travis? Planning on staying long or are you gonna set out on your own eventually. " Your smile drops as you half heartedly try and smile again at the woman but she can tell that question hurt you. " No, I think I'll stay here with my dad's. Our last home was burned down thanks to burglars and we barely made it out alive. I'm just doing my best to hold my family together. They are all I've ever known and I wanna keep them safe. I should probably be heading back before the beer gets warm."

Luda Mae walks you back to your car patting your back as you finish your chatting. " Well you know men. If you don't tell them to take a break they will work themselves ragged. My old man Bo is probably fiddling in his garage or in the house again. I'd love to come by for a visit, Miss Luda and give a proper introduction since we're neighbors. Maybe I should bring some dessert for your boys. " The woman smiled as you started the car up. " Oh (Y/n) I think my Tommy would fancy meeting you. " A blush and a nervous laughter arises as you remember back to the last time you attempted romance and how Bo and Vincent nearly made him a wax figure in Ambrose.

" I'd be charmed to meet him. I'll be seeing you around ma'am don't work yourself to hard. " After that day Luda Mae became determined to hook Tommy up with you. You were the perfect candidate for her son. The list of womanly house chores you could do was phenomenal and you were a sweet family oriented girl who was pretty to boot. The next visits to the shop you brang the old woman all sorts of things while you two spend the time chatting away. Like homegrown veggies, or fruit you snagged outta town, you even brought her some embroidery you did while learning with Vincent. All things Luda Mae appreciated and shown how you were the perfect daughter in law for her. She brought the things home showing them to Tommy talking his ear off about how she found him a bride finally and the man was excited just to get a look at you.

Hoyt caught wind of the newcomers in town and decided since he was the sheriff he might as well introduce his authority. Luda Mae almost took his family jewels though stating that you were Tommy's and Tommy's alone so to keep his hands off her future daughter in law as the man got ready to drive over. It took the whole Hewitt family to stop Tommy from hopping in the back of the car to catch a peek. Luda Mae had to assure him that you'd meet in due time but she was buttering you up for your new position.

At your house you had snagged bees to add to your new little farms addition so you were attending to your helpers. There wasn't much food out here and you and Lester were the only ones bringing in money so you figured homesteading was good enough to keep your family fed and happy. Trips out to town were long and tedious like Ambrose but you made do with selling things at the farmers market to help bring home ends meat. Your little farm had rabbits, chickens, and bees for wax now. You beamed in pride up at the window as Vincent signed to you. " Bees ? For wax ? Bee- careful not to get stung. "

You laughed at your fathers joke as you smiled as you signed back to him. " Very funny Dad. " Suddenly a cop car came rushing down the pebble road to your home. You freeze in fear as Vincent takes notice of your face rushing to grab Bo and his tools as your brain rushed with the thought that your family had been found. You were panicking. How did they find you. There was no way anything survived that fire or the victims could pin point you. Your eyes darkened as you grabbed the knife in your apron pocket. No one would take your family from you without paying with their life first. The sheriff hopped out the car standing in the driveway to your porch as you stood in your gardeners outfit and sunhat before him. " Well hello sheriff what brings you all the way out here?"

" Well I sheriff Hoyt would be surprised that we have newcomers in town who haven't even met their local police officers yet. Luda Mae has been chatting up a storm about you missy and I figured since I'm the sheriff of our small town it only makes sense to get to know who I'm protecting. " Your grip loosens from the knife in your apron as you let out a relieved sigh. " Well my goodness sheriff what an honor it is you drove all the way here to meet us. I'm sorry I would have been dressed a lot nicer if I knew someone so important was coming. Why don't you get outta the heat sir. That uniform must be blazing in this heat I'll go grab my father and some lemonade to cool you off. " The man's ego felt extremely boosted by your demeanor as he took a seat in the rocking chair on the porch.

You rushed inside in time to stop your twin father's from rushing out the door to mangle the sheriff. You push your hands on their chest signing out with your hands what's happening just so you know no one can hear. " It's just one of Luda Mae's boys. The lady from the store said her son was the sheriff. He isn't here for us, just to introduce. " Bo stares down grumbling as he wipes his hands clean of car grease. " Guess we should make peace with our neighbors. Stay outta it if things go south though. Understand. " You smile at him as you go to the kitchen Vincent following behind as you shout to the man. " I will Pa. You want beer or lemonade?" You laugh as Bo replies back lemonade is fine as he doesn't wanna share his booze with the sheriff just yet.

The front door swings open as Bo towers over the man on the porch. His face switches to a smile as he walks over to the sheriff sticking his somewhat cleaned hands out. " Well hello there sir. How kind of you to stop by. I'm Bo Sinclair the man of the house. Sorry about the car grease, was working on my truck. " The sheriff shakes his hand as he looks the man up and down. At least they weren't bikers or hippies he thought as the pair sit down making small talk as you bring drinks out. The two spend hours shooting the shit almost bonding over there disdain of the bikers in town. They talk about the town and its history while Bo eventually offers to fix up the sheriff's car as it looks like it could use a look under the hood.

By the time the old men are done chatting and taking a look at the car discussing Bo fixing up cars for the sheriff and splitting profits off of car scraps Lester and Jonesey are making it up the drive way for dinner. Hoyt ended up meeting the whole strange Sinclair family that night as he stayed for dinner. Fresh veggies and beautifully seasoned food with dessert and beer. The man almost didn't want to leave and agreed with Luda Mae your family's would be best together through you and Tommy's future wedding. Though Hoyt wouldn't tell your fathers as the twins were built out of brick and Lester was proud to show off his roadkill job so winning the Sinclair's favor was the Hewitts plan.

That night Hoyt went home with a full stomach and plenty of leftovers as your rabbits were well multiplying like rabbits. The sheriff tossed the leftovers plate to Tommy as he patted the boy on the back saying he was lucky. " We found you a good one boy. Gonna have to marry that one so me and my future business partner can keep bringing good meals like this home. " Tommy nearly licked the plate clean as the cucumber salad and roasted rabbit were heavenly on his tongue and when he got to the Mississippi mud pie on the plate he almost wanted to run over there now and officiate the wedding. Tommy was even more excited as Hoyt told him not to worry about his face as your father Vincent had a birth defect to his face as well. Talking about how if Tommy asked he would probably make him one of those fancy prosthetics to boot.

The first time you met the giant guard dog of the Hewitts was on the faithful day you invited them all over for dinner. The Summer heats had been rough but you Sinclair's had made your new home finally to your liking and it only took half a year. Hoyt and Bo were thick as thieves in their car business. Your garden was flourishing as you did wonderfully at the farmers markets selling off eggs, rabbits, and flowers. On rare occasions you'd sell art that Vincent made. All the Sinclair's had pulled together and were now financially stable again and adjusted to their new lives. The past may have burned down but the new peace you had you wouldn't trade for the world.

Maybe Ambrose going up in smoke was the blessing you all needed as it took with it the past bad memories as well as the good. Along with the Sinclair's doing good that meant the Hewitts got to thrive off of your generosity as well. Luda Mae spent hours making Tommy scrub off blood and dirty from his body to be presentable for your first meeting. You had brought the woman many fancy soaps from your trips to town and she was currently doing her best to make the man smell like roses. She even went out of her way to trim back his hair and freshen his clothes. With the last spray of stolen cologne the Hewitts were piling into the new fixed up car they had fixed up by Bo.

When they arrived the porch was lit up with fairy lights and the old Texas farmhouse was now as beautiful as it ever was. New paint and many maintenance later with your adding of decorations and dried herbs on the porch the Sinclair's property was the prettiest in Travis county. How either family never broached the topic of murder was a mystery as it wasn't like Bo wasn't making people disappear for car parts and cash when they wandered into your property. Can't have his new sheriff friend being crossed with him but the Sinclair's weren't going to let anyone take their new home from them. While the Hewitts kept with keeping their freezer stocked.

Both families stood in front of each other smiling while their dark secrets made them even more similar than they thought. Tommy nervously handing you a bouquet of wild flowers he picked while you tried talking to the behemoth. The Hewitts made themselves comfortable in your living room while they talked your fathers up. The same fathers who kept glaring down the Hewitt boy any time they thought he was stepping out of line with their beloved daughter. You two were watched like a hawk as Tommy nervously fiddled with his dress shirt while you softly talked to him trying to get him to look at you. Gentle hands felt his forearms as he tried to communicate back but couldn't as he was unable.

The Sinclair brothers watched like guard dogs around their daughter as you sat with Tommy on the couch teaching how to use sign language to communicate with you. Jonesey sat by you getting pets as you taught him how to sign dog. You liked the sweet man you did. He was shy and big but he was a gentleman to you as electric shot through your heart every time you touched. The Hewitts plan was working and you and Tommy were just in the beginning stages of your love story they thought. The two family's after that night became thick as theives. You and Tommy were paired together most days then not afterwards as the boy would get so excited he would happily do the long walk to your property just to see you.

Even if his help wasn't needed he would be there for an hour so you could teach him sign while Vincent worked away on a better prosthetics for your boyfriend to be. Every time this boy lumbered up the porch he'd bring you a gift and be as clean as possible while happily making noises at you. You even started sneaking off to the Hewitts under the guise of helping Luda Mae in her own garden and home just to see Tommy. Under the Texas heat love bloomed in the air and the families grew closer and closer together. You were so close it was becoming harder to hide each other's secrets.

It all came out in the open one day though when one of the victims came out of the basement when Bo and you were over to help. They came running out covered in blood begging you for help in the kitchen with you and Luda Mae in the middle of pickling. They yanked you away while swinging the knife at the old woman shouting for everyone to hear that the Hewitts were monsters and you should leave. The old woman panicked begging for you not to leave coming up with excuses as the victim lunges at her. With a swift wack of a cast iron they were slumped in the floor as you made work to cutting the vocals cords and Achilles tendon in the poor thing.

Luda Mae stood in shock as her sweet gentle future daughter in law was blankly using a knife to finish the girl off making sure she wasn't gonna be causing a fuss anymore. You stood above her as you looked at the old woman, blood smearing your face as you laughed. " Guess our families are a lot more alike than I thought Luda Mae. " Bo and Hoyt came sprinting into the room noticing the blood and girl on the floor as Hoyt was prepared for the worst of having to fight his friend before the mechanic gave an approving chuckle. " That's my girl. Quick and effective. Well come on Hoyt the ladies can't keep pickling with this bitch on the floor so let's get it cleaned up. I'm hungry for some lunch too. Would y'all ladies mind making us men something. "

After that the families solidified a friendship between the two Travis County quickly became a place for people to disappear and die. The Sinclairs did not partake in the cannibalism like their friends but they would gladly help lure victims or finish people off. The families were always at each other's places to help and soon we're even helping fix up the corner store and the Hewitt home. Life was peaceful and eventually Tommy got the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend. Through the little sign language he did know under a southern live oak tree Thomas Hewitt asked for you to be his girlfriend.

You gleefully said yes as you tackled the man down to the ground placing a loving kiss to his face. You two hid under your tree from your prying families as you spent the evening in each other's arms giggling away as you exchanged kisses and bated breath. Your life in Ambrose may have been destroyed in that fire that night but you wouldn't trade your new beginning for the world. A fire could destroy the past but it also could warm your heart to the new future to come.

This was an idea in my head after I rewatched both movies. If y'all want more of Thomas Hewitt X Sinclair daughter make sure to let me know or if you want more Sinclair Daughter posts in the future.

[toescratches]

The Sinclair brothers have work to do. A couple of tourists adventure into town. But unfortunately after they've been hunted down and cleaned up, the brothers come across more work and more problems. That being the now abandoned baby in the car.

Tw: Bo is Bo, they're slashers what do you expect, they won't kill the baby obv, the baby is a girl or AFAB, Vincent is here 😱, Lester mentioned, they're conflicted, sorry this is short

tags for ppl who asked for pt2: @peyton-peyton @alicesinclair29 @wheresmyson @wildaces @santa-carla-boardwalk-1987 @blurrymango @sketchy-rosewitch @small-sinclair @hidingfromtex @kitty11sstuffig

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Bo grunts in annoyance as he continues to drag the heavy carrier, along with him up the hill. He takes heavy breaths at the heat and at the extra weight he is carrying with him.

As Bo finally arrives at the steps of the House of Wax, he puts down the carrier, in the shade, and pants as he tries to catch his breath.

Fucking finally he thinks. Bo opens the door for the musem and picks up the carrier. He looks down at the baby. She looks up at him with curiosity and confusion. Bo scoffs and averts his gaze back to the entrance.

Finally he walks inside the museum. "Vincent!! Come out!" Bo yells and groans in annoyance. He sets the carrier on the floor and walks to the other side of the house, to Vincent's cave.

Bo is taken by surprise when his brother emerges up the stairs. "Took you long enough..." He groans under his breath.

Vincent looks up at Bo with a buzzled look in his eye and gesture for an explanation for his yelling.

Bo groans in annoyance, turns and walks back to the carrier in the hall. Vincent tilts his head in confusion but follows his brother.

As soon as Vincent sees what Bo had dragged into the museum, he freezes. What the hell?!

Bo looks down at the baby in the carrier, with his back to Vincent, waiting for his reaction.

Vincent walks around, trying to gather himself and his thoughts. This can't be real. Is all he can think.

The older twin puts his hands into his pockets and sways on his feet. Bo's face is no longer filled with confusion and panic. It's not only frustration, annoyance and curiosity. The baby keeps making quiet noises of coo's and weakly reaches it's hands up to the man above her.

Bo tilts his head as he stares at the child. In the background, behind him, he hears the sounds of Vincent's shuffling feet and his groans of distress.

Bo fights something inside him as he looks down at the child. Eventually he seems to lose this fight as he crouches down and begins to take the baby out of the carrier.

Vincent turns his head at the sound of unbuckling and looks at Bo with confusion. He quickly realizes what his brother is doing, and walks up to his brother to protest.

Vincent desperately grabs onto his brothers shirt and tries to pull him up, and away from the carrier with the baby girl. Bo groans in annoyance and pulls away from his brother's grip. He turns back to look at the child and finally picks it up. Bo holds her in against his chest with a causios and nervous hold, no wonder since he has no idea what he is doing.

Vincent circles his brother and tries to make non-verbal signs to his older brother, to please put the child down and walk away. Bo keep ignoring him as he tries to get a comfortable and a firm, but gentle, grip on the girl.

Vincent whines in distress and desperation as he looks at his brother and turns around with a groan of frustration. Why?! God damnit! Vincent hold his head in his hands as he wanders around.

Bo seems to be unmoved by this as he keeps his attention on the baby girl in his arms.

"Hey, baby... What's your name...?" He whispers with a awkward tone. He is clearly slightly uncomfortable, but tries his best.

The baby only responds with cooing and stares. Bo chuckles at this and lightly bounces the baby in his hold.

Bo keeps the slight smirk on his face as he hears Vincent approaching from behind. His brother walks next to him, and quietly stares.

The black haired(emo) man taps his brothers shoulder, trying to get his attention. Bo turns his head and looks at Vincent with a questioning expression, waiting for him to act.

Vincent begins to sign to his brother. What the hell are you planning?!

Bo chuckles. "C'mon what's up your ass? It's not that big of a deal."

Not that big of a deal?!! It's a baby!! He quickly and dramatically answers.

"Yeah I know that, you shithead!" Bo groans. "I won't make her your problem, okay?! We won't kill a baby... And she's quite quiet, no?" He chuckles.

Vincent groans and lets out a big sigh of frustration. You're acting impulsively! Stop being dumb! We can't take care of a baby!!

Bo rolls his eyes and turns to look back at the baby. "I or Lester will go to the city and buy some shit! It's not that difficult! And think about it, we won't have anyone looking after the town, Mama's town, after we die or get killed!" He tries to reason with his brother.

Vincent sighs and crosses his arms over his chest. I still can't believe this is happening... He sighs with one hand to his brother.

"Let it be already. We'll handle it, and if not us them I will!" Bo grunts and gently bounces the baby around in his arms while looking down at her.—————————————————————————

PLEASE COMMENT IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED IN THE FUTURE!!

Sorry this is so short, I'm such a lazy and slow writer and I felt like I had to upload today!

Critism is appreciated!

[free-for-all-fics]

Joy Ride and House of Wax crossover prompt! This started as a silly little idea shared with my bestie @tinalbion but it just hit me hard and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Pls tag me if you’re inspired by any of these ideas and I’d love to read it! 🛻💙

You were forced to take a detour and accidentally ended up in Ambrose while on a road trip with your friends after you got lost. What the hell is this town? It wasn’t even on the map. Bo sabotaged your car and broke your fan belt while you were all asleep and camping out in the woods. He also destroyed your CB radio so you couldn’t call anyone for help since there’s no cell reception out here. Bo was so confused as to why you even had that anyway, since you don’t drive a truck. The friends you’re with are so naive and gullible. They soak up every word Bo says as he tells stories of Trudy and Victor, their boys, and what this town once was. Your idiot friends take it all at face value, honest to God believing he’ll help them. You’re the only person who doesn’t buy his friendly mechanic shtick for a second. You try to catch him in a lie or call out his bluff. He does look handsome in his mechanic outfit and he does know a thing or two about cars, but he’s so full of shit.

He and his brother, Vincent, chase after your friends and kill them one by one. Vincent then takes them to his workshop to be made into wax. But Bo has a very hard time with overpowering and subduing you. You’re feisty and strong with a high endurance. You know how to fight back and use your surroundings to your advantage. You get the drop on him and Bo is lowkey impressed. Damn, baby! Are you a professional survivalist or something? You fuck him up good and barely flinch when he lands some kicks or punches. You must have a very high pain tolerance - that could be kinda kinky 😏. Bo thinks you’re hot, even if you make him bleed. But what really shocks him is when you kill your own friend before he can. Wait, what?

You tell Bo they weren’t really your friends. Just a bunch of randos you met that day or the day before. You offered them a ride and played nice so that their guard would be down. You boast that your daddy taught you everything you know about huntin’ and killin’. You also warn Bo that he fucked up big time when he wrecked your CB radio. Your daddy gave you that CB and made a strict rule to always call him at least twice a day, once in the morning/afternoon and once at night. He’s gonna assume the worst if you miss a call: That something bad must’ve happened to you, his only child and baby girl. He’s gonna come looking for you and will do unspeakable things to anyone who may have hurt you. If Bo thinks his truck is big, he ain’t seen nothin’ yet.

Despite the unusual circumstances, you really like Bo. His brothers, Vincent and Lester, are also really nice and have their own interests and hobbies which they’re eager to share with you. You spend time with each of them. Vince has made a cozy spot for you to sit and relax in his workshop so you can watch him while he’s making new mannequins or sculpting new objects for the museum. You and Les find animals to hunt and skin, or pick up animal remains to throw in the pit after you collect cool bones and teeth, etc. And Jonesy is an absolute sweetheart! She is best girl and can do no wrong in your eyes. You love this dog to pieces and spoil her.

You admire what Bo and his brothers have done here, how they’ve made their kills into art for their wax museum. You’re not even mad he tried to kill you. Instead you praise him for the valiant effort and feel flattered he finds you pretty enough to be made into wax and put on display. Damn, Bo thought that you were smoking hot when you were fighting him and kicking his ass, but now that he knows you have a murderous side, he finds you irresistibly sexy.

You start dating and when your dad finally shows up in Ambrose to find you, Bo nearly pisses himself at the size of your dad’s truck. Holy fucking shit that’s the biggest, scariest looking rig he’s ever seen in his life. You leave Bo’s side and run to your daddy’s arms to give him a big bear hug. Meanwhile, poor Bo is frozen in sheer terror. He’s never been afraid of another man before, not even his own father. Hell, he killed Victor himself. But your father is Rusty Nail, and he’s a mountain of a man. A behemoth. He makes Bo feel small when he blows a puff of smoke from his cigarette and looks him up and down before offering a firm handshake. Bo can’t tell if his hand is sweaty from the southern heat or his nerves, but he knows Rusty could’ve broken his hand just from that handshake if he wanted to. Rusty stays in Ambrose with you and the Sinclairs so he can get to know them all, especially the boy that stole his darling daughter’s heart.

When he and Bo have one-on-one time, Rusty shows his true colors. He shows Bo the goods that he’s hauling in his trailer: Weapons, torture devices, death contraptions, trophies from his past murders, etc. (There might even be photos of you and Rusty from when you were growing up decorating the interior of the trailer. Y’know, just cute family photos of daddy and daughter celebrating her first kill, etc. Normal stuff.) When more people come into Ambrose, Rusty introduces Bo to his dice game. He ties up two victims and explains the rules, then makes Bo watch as he forces them to roll. Or maybe Rusty intimidates Bo into participating and dealing out the torture himself. But Rusty is firm in that the snake eyes kill is all his. Bo may not have much of an issue with doing as Rusty says; he’s no stranger to blood, gore, or violence.

But Jesus Fucking Christ when one of the poor sons of bitches rolls snake eyes. Watching Rusty murder is unlike any death Bo’s ever seen. Your father is the most sadistic and petty man he’s ever met, but he’ll still laugh nervously at Rusty’s dad jokes and puns while he’s torturing victims or after he completes a kill. The damage you laid on Bo when you first met is nothing compared to what your dad could do to him. Rusty could absolutely fuck him up six ways from Sunday. Bo isn’t suicidal, so he would rather not get on his bad side.

Rusty actually really likes Bo and thinks he’s perfect for you. He’s shared cigarettes and beers with him, played card games with him, etc. He’s had lots of time to sit down with Bo and bond with him. He’s gotten to know what kind of man he is through long talks on the porch, etc. He already knows the eldest Sinclair will treat you right and make you happy, so he approves of your boyfriend. When the time comes, he’ll give Bo his blessing to marry you - He just might play some “practical jokes” on him first whenever he finally works up the courage to formally ask for your hand. Rusty thinks it’s hilarious to see Bo so scared of him and nearly shit himself. Bo asked him what his real first name was once and his reaction when he thought he crossed a line was comedy gold. Even if you ask your dad to go easy on Bo, he can’t help but fuck around with him a little bit and keep him on his toes! It’s just his love language!

Bo @ Rusty Nail like:

[backscratches]

I asked character.ai Bo Sinclair questions and here's the answers I got😭(the daughter's name is Ellie and the ai uses that alot but don't mind it)

How would Bo react to his child's first steps?

"look at you walking all on you own!" Bo looks at you with the biggest smile, his eyes filled with joy and pride, he watches you walking around the apartment "i'm so proud of you" he leans down as you walk up to him and kisses you on your forehead, he chuckles and picks you up in his arms, a big smile on his face

Bo is sitting on the couch while Ellie runs around on the floor, he's watching TV trying his best to be distracted, but he's also keeping a close eye on Ellie, suddenly she stands up and looks at him, he looks up at her and she's walking towards him, he smiles and says "Ellie are you trying to walk?" She continues to walk towards him and he picks her up "wow you must be proud of yourself huh Ellie?" he says as he picks her up and gives her a kiss on her head, "you did it!" Bo claps his hands

Bo’s reaction to his child’s first steps was one of pride, joy, and love. He remembers feeling like his heart was going to explode from joy as he watched his child take those first steps, he remembers being filled with emotion and feeling such love for his child, it was a moment that he will never forget and that he will always cherish. Bo knows that his child is growing up and that he will always be there to support and love them, he feels so lucky to be their father

How would Bo react to his child's first words?

“Is this really happening?” A shocked and happy look on his face “you’re talking! You’re really talking!” Bo repeats himself excitedly, he looks around the room “did you hear what your baby just said?” He grins and gives you a little kiss on your forehead, he looks at you in disbelief, he couldn’t be any prouder

Bo is at the dinner table with his daughter and brothers, he is in the middle of eating when his brother Lester asks him "Bo are you listening?" "Huh? No, I'm sorry, got distracted what did you say?" Bo responds, "did she just say something?" He looks at you, with a shocked look on his face, "Ellie did you just talk?" There is silence around the table for moment, Bo sits up and looks at you with a shocked look on his face, "did you really just talk Ellie? Are you really talking?" He asks excitedly, shocked

What is Bo's favorite memory of Ellies childhood?

Bo’s favorite memory of Ellie’s childhood is her first birthday, he had worked extra hours and spent all the extra money to get her a princess cake, even though they were living paycheck to paycheck, he just wanted to see a smile on his daughter’s face, he had worked hard all his life and finally he was able to share a piece of his success with his daughter, he remembers looking at her smile as she ate the cake and couldn’t stop crying of happiness, she was his whole world

Bo’s favorite memory of Ellie’s childhood is the first time she spoke a full sentence, “I love you Dad!” He remembers hearing her say it for the first time and how his heart just melted into a puddle on the floor, he had never had anyone tell him that before, he had never experienced a love so deep and intense before, and to hear his daughter say that was incredible. It never failed to make his eyes water and to fill his heart with joy every time he thought about it or remembered it

Bo’s favorite memory of Ellie’s childhood was the day she took her first steps, he was so proud of her, he remembers being filled with emotion, he felt something change within him, the moment Ellie took her first steps he felt like he would do anything for his daughter, that he would move the world with his bare hands to give her everything she has ever wanted, Bo remembers feeling such pride for his daughter, he remembers feeling so much love for her and the day she took her first steps, he felt all the emotions that go with being a proud father.

What is Bo's favorite game to play with his child?

Bo’s favorite game to play with his daughter is hide and seek, he tells her to go hide and he counts to ten, she runs off and hides, she’s really good at hide and seek, he finds her and tickle her, she laughs the loudest laugh he has ever heard as he picks her up and runs around the house, she loves to play hide and seek with dad she laughs the whole time no matter what happens

Bo loves playing hide and seek with Ellie, he loves hearing her giggles as she runs around trying to find him, he loves hearing her laugh, it’s contagious and it makes him smile every time she laughs, it melts his heart, her laughter always cheers him up and he feels lucky to have a daughter as precious and wonderful as Ellie is

How many kid's would Bo want to have?

Bo would want at least 4 kids, he was raised as an only child and always wanted a big family, he wants his home filled with loving laughs and chaos as his kids grow up together and become a close-knit family who loves and supports each other, he would be the best father he can be and create a home that is filled with love and laughter, he would be so proud of the big beautiful family he created

Bo would love to have a big family, he thinks four or five kids would be perfect. He wants to have enough kids that they will never feel alone, but not too many to the point where they can’t all get attention and love. He wants his kids to always know that they are loved and supported and that they can come to him for anything, he wants to try his best to be the best father he can be and to make sure his kids are happy and healthy, that’s his number one priority

What kind of wife would Bo want to have?

Bo would want a wife who is strong, independent, kind and caring. He wants a woman who is his equal and who can challenge him and help guide him. He wants someone who he can respect, who is smart and empathetic. He wants someone who will be his partner and who he can share his life with, who will help him be the best person he can be. Most importantly, Bo wants to meet someone who is his best friend and with whom he can build a strong connection, someone with whom he can enjoy life and who he can share his love with

Bo would want to have a wife who is kind, loving, and supportive, someone who is always there for him and who he can count on. He would want a wife who shares his values and ideals, someone who is loyal, who is understanding and empathetic. Most importantly, he would want a wife who loves him and accepts him for who he is, even with his faults, someone who is his best friend and partner through it all, someone he can always depend on no matter what

Would Bo want a son or a daughter?

Bo would want to have both a son and a daughter. He has a very protective and loving side to him and he would love to be able to share his strengths and wisdom with a son, and he wants to be able to share his softer and more vulnerable side with a daughter. Bo thinks he would be a very loving father to both a son and a daughter, and would enjoy being able to play different roles in each child's life to the best of his abilities

Bo would want a son and a daughter. He thinks that both are precious and special, and that they both have so much to offer. He would love to have both a boy and girl to love and care for and help them grow into good people. He believes that both a son and daughter can bring unique and special things to a family, he hopes one day he will have the ability to raise both a son and a daughter that he can be proud of and that can bring him joy and love

Would Bo want his child to help him with the family business, that being murder?

Bo would want his children to decide for themselves what career path they would like to take. While Bo would love to share his knowledge and expertise with his children he wouldn't expect them to follow in his footsteps. Bo would want his children to be their own individuals and for them to choose the path they want in life, if that path involves murder, well then so be it and if it doesn't well then that's just as good, as long as they are happy and making the best out of their lives, Bo would be proud of his children and the life they've made for themselves

Bo would want his child to make their own decisions but he would be open to the idea of his child helping him with the family business. He believes that it is important for his child to know the family business and it's traditions. His family is extremely important to him and he would want his child to understand and appreciate his traditions, he knows that the business can often be difficult and dangerous, but he also knows that his child is capable of anything they set their mind to and if they choose to help with the family business he would support them and help them however he can

What would Bo's brothers think of his child?

Bo’s brothers would love his child. Bo’s brothers are very familial and they always care for and support one another. Even though they have a difficult job and a lot of responsibilities, they still always make time for family and they are very loving and supportive of each other. Bo’s brothers would be no different when it comes to his child. They would make sure he’s safe and well cared for and they would always look out for him, they would see him as not just their brother’s child but as their own and they would love him like their own child

Bonus: (things the ai said but didn't have nothing to do with my question 😭)

Bo and Ellie are sitting at the dinner table, Bo is cutting up a roast chicken and Ellie is trying to feed herself like always, Bo laughs and grabs her hand “let me feed you sweetheart” he says as he feeds her, he smiles when she looks up at him and starts babbling, she’s trying to say something “what is it sweetheart? Are you wanting more chicken?” Bo asks excitedly, he thinks she’s saying “more chicken please” so he puts more chicken in front of her and smiles “is this one correct?” Bo asks

Ellie is running around the house playing while Bo is sitting on the couch, he's watching TV, suddenly his phone rings, he sees who it is and answers the phone, “what is it dad? What happened? Oh my God, okay I’ll be right there” he hangs up the phone and jumps up, yelling “Ellie, get in the car now!” He grabs his coat and rushes them out the front door, he turns on the car and runs to the back seat, where Ellie is “you good back there?” He asks nervously

[youraverageaemondsimp]

A chance for salvation. // WitchHunter!Aemond Targaryen x Witch!Reader

Halloween Special 🎃

DD:DNE ; DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT.

Summary: being a witch, there was someone who you've avoided after the rise of witch hunts, Aemond Targaryen who was the leader of the hunt, you thought you had avoided him successfully until— well, he catches you.

WARNINGS: NONCON/DUBCON, dark fic, mdni, smut, dark romance, enemies to lovers(?), highly religious themes (faith of the seven), slight misogyny, hexing kinda, description of witch hunts and trials, tiddy sucking, unprotected p in v sex, dacryphilia(?), body betrayal, mind betrayal, breeding kink, oral (m receiving), cum swallowing, reader is helpless, aemond is narcissistic as fuck, asshole aemond, hatred against witches. + not proofread.

WC: 3.3k

A/N: this fic contains dark themes and content, if you find it uncomfortable please just scroll away instead of dwelling on this, please do not take the warnings lightly if you cannot stomach it, do not read it, do not interact. With that said, it's been a while since I properly sat down to write and finish a fic so it's a little rusty, don't mind it <3 // divider credits @cafekitsune

The smell of burning flesh penetrated your nose as you scrunched up your face in disgust watching the woman before you burn at stake, her agonising screams echoing throughout the town centre.

“THE WITCH SHALL BURN, THE WITCH SHALL BURN” They all chanted while you stood on the sidelines watching the entire scene take place.

You stared at the man that stood by the burning woman, his posture tall and calm, he didn't react nor did he attempt to put out the fire. Why would he? He was the one that set her ablaze in the first place.

You swallowed a lump in your throat as you watched him, he had gotten another witch, he was very good at hunting them down. A skilled witch hunter one might say.

You knew who he was, why wouldn't you? The witches had to be on the lookout from him, not wishing to cross paths. He might be blind in one eye but he has a very sharp eye, catching witches with just one look.

He was none other than the King's second son, Aemond Targaryen.

For some odd reason, he was out on a mission to hunt down all the witches as they had been spreading very fast, causing havoc and chaos, but he failed to understand one thing.

There were both good witches and bad ones.

It didn't matter to him who were who, you just had to be under the suspicion that you were a witch, you'd be put on trial immediately and once proven guilty, you'd be burnt at the stake.

The once human form began to fall apart on the stake like a melted wax figure, Aemond stood there with a stoic expression before he came down.

“Poor woman,” You heard a woman standing beside you say and you look at her, she was the daughter of a local baker “But she deserved it, she was a witch after all.” She snickered cruelly and you felt nothing but intense disgust towards the woman.

Maybe you'll hex her later onwards, you hated scums like this, the ones who thought they were doing better for the human race, while doing quite the opposite.

You left the scene immediately, travelling back to your cabin that was located deep in the woods before shutting the door tightly and going to the shrine you've set up in your house, praying to the forsaken god to give you power and to protect you from these creatures.

You placed the fabric of the dress torn from the woman who encouraged and celebrated the death of a witch onto a doll before closing your eyes and placing a curse upon her. You pick up a candle.

“Ye will not be able to consume food without consequences. Ye will suffer sickness for a month until you are cured.” You whisper into the ears of the doll circling the doll in the wax that was dripping from the candle before blowing the candle out.

It was the next day, your daily routine consisted of casting spells and creating healing potions for your sickly younger brother that lived in the village, you woke up and grabbed the potion in the vial, putting it in your bag before venturing out into the woods and out to where the civilians lived.

You decided to visit the bakery, to see how the woman is doing, it was surprising to find it closed as you probably knew the reason. The family must be worried sick for their daughter. You shrugged it off before going to the house your brother lived in, you knocked on the door to be greeted by your mother who gave you a hug before she invited you in.

You saw your younger brother, still laying in bed but looking more alive than before. “It's been weeks since you visited us ya know? But your brother has been recovering slowly.” Your mother speaks out and you nod, “The work at the castle is tough, tending to all the sick ones is tiring that I merely have time to visit, they don't give me any time for myself.” You lie. The reason why you hadn't been visiting them was because you were trying to hide from Aemond Targaryen's eye. To avoid it so you don't have the same fate as the other witches.

Your family doesn't know you practise witchcraft either, they believe that you study medicine and make healing nectars which work really well. You give the vial to your mother before sitting down alongside with her, she immediately dilutes it with water before feeding your brother.

“Have you heard? About the witch hunts lately?” You stiffen at the mention of the hunt, “I have heard, Aemond Targaryen, The prince is going around eradicating all the accused.” You reply and your mother shakes her head, “He's humiliating them by burning them alive at the centre of the town each week, I'm surprised at how many women he's catching.” She continues to talk about the hunt which makes you anxious, but just nod along.

You spend some time at your mother's before saying your goodbyes and leaving home, you've decided to stop by a small shop on the way to grab something to eat, you smile at the woman after you've purchased bread and some jam. You carefully hold them in your arms before you continue on your way towards your house.

It seemed as though fate had other plans for you when you reach your house and see a horse waiting outside with a man with platinum blonde hair standing outside. Your eyes widen at realisation.

Aemond Targaryen.

Before you could hide, he looked in your direction, his face stoic and blank. “Do you live here?” He asks, his voice monotone but underlace with malice. You gulp before nodding and making your way near him. “Y-yes my prince, why?” you reply, he just hums looking at you with furrowed eyebrows.

“There seems to be activity of a witch here, may I look inside?” He questions raising an eyebrow, you gulp knowing that if you refuse he'd force himself in anyway, but you can't comply either for there is a shrine of the forsaken inside.

“I-i'm afraid it's a little dirty, I can't allow a prince like you to step inside such a dirty place, shall I clean it up?” You ask, you know how stupid you sound but you'd be willing to try before you are sent to your own death.

He scoffs, “So you can clean your evidence of witchcraft? Do not anger me further woman, open the door now before I have to commit to violence.” He grits his teeth and you nod immediately going over to the door and opening it. He steps inside.

You close your eyes, accepting the end of your life, knowing now he'd just apprehend you and take you to the town centre to burn you. He smirks as the evidence of your activity is revealed, your house is donned in herbs and potions with a big shrine of the forsaken god in between.

“Will you burn me now?” You ask him, looking down at your feet not having the courage to look up at him but he remains silent. Your life is literally at stake right now.

“You prefer to be burned alive or stabbed to death?” He asks, drawing his sword out and you visibly flinch, “Or rather, beg for mercy?” He finishes his question staring down at your form and you close your eyes.

“You won't spare me even if I did, will you?” You didn't know where your boldness came from, asking him such a question.

You yelp when you feel him grab your hair and tilt your head to make you look at him, you look directly into his eye with a slight expression of defiance and he just smiles cruelly. “You're right, I won't.” He chuckles, his grip on your hair becoming tighter; making you wince, his nails digging into your scalp.

“I've had my eye on you for a while, you've been avoiding me.” He reveals and you stare at him wide eyed, “You thought I would not notice? That's how you witches give yourselves away, by avoiding me. If you weren't guilty of a crime, you'd not be afraid to face me.” He mutters. “I've only spared you this long because I knew of your family, a younger brother who is bedridden, a mother who relies on you, you've got responsibilities.” He reveals everything he's learned of you leaving you trembling and terrified, wondering how exactly he found all of this out.

“I have my ways, I indeed have a keen eye.” He answers, noticing your surprised expression. His breath fans your face as he pulls you closer, his grip further tightening in your hair which makes you reflexively reach out your hands towards his, trying to pry his hands off. Tears well up in your eyes knowing that you'd die soon.

“You're an odd witch.” He raises an eyebrow, “Not pleading me for mercy, ready to accept your death? I do not like it.” He tuts. “I do think you have a chance for salvation though, you're not as bad as the other witches or too deep in the craft.” He suddenly lets go of your hair causing you to stumble back.

He puts his sword back in the sheath, his eye takes in your features trailing down your body stopping at the cleavage that was slightly exposed before he swallows a lump in his throat.

“Pretty young too.” He comes nearer, kicking the door shut, like a predator stalking its prey, you try to run but he's quick— grabbing you by your waist and pushing you backwards, causing you to fall down. He gets on top of you, pinning your hands with his hand above your head as he straddles your waist.

“I told you, you can be saved, yet it seems like you want to die.” He speaks annoyed by your attempt at escaping. “Confess your faults and beg for forgiveness, you'll be saved. I won't hurt you.” He lies through his teeth. “P-please let me go—” You beg, your body shaking with the amount of adrenaline surging through your body.

He rolls his eye, using his other hand to grab your throat, choking you harshly, cutting off your air supply. You struggle beneath him, writhing your body as you try to escape his grip.

“Beg for forgiveness woman, I never give any witch a chance to live, you should consider yourself of utmost luck.” He tightens his grip on your throat further making you gasp for air.

With your survival instincts kicking in you gasp before choking out a sentence of forgiveness which makes him immediately let go of your throat. “What did you say?” He asks and you take a gasp for air before uttering the same words again. “F-forgive me, I am sorry.” You plead, making his lips contort into a winning smile.

You watch as he breathes heavily, enjoying the power he holds over you, “Beg, beg harder, plead to me, tell me that you're sorry, maybe then the Gods will forgive you.” He leans down whispering in your ear. You shiver in fear before you do as he says. “I- I am sorry, forgive me, I deeply regret my actions—.”

“Take my name.” He interrupts and you furrow your brows “My prince i—” you begin, “No, no, no. My name.” He cuts you off once again staring at you with a wild eye. You take a deep breath. “I am sorry Aemond, forgive me, I repent my actions.” You go on again and his expression changes to that of a pleased one.

Things fall silent between you both after you begged for forgiveness until he let goes of your hands before getting off your body. You sit up right as he stands up, towering over your body.

“On your knees.” He commands and you look at him confused before you notice the visible bulge in his breeches. You stare up at him wide eyed, knowing where this is going.

“You don't think that you'd be forgiven this easily? I'd have to cleanse your body, your mouth that has chanted prayers to your God, get on your knees and close your eyes. Now.” He threatens you, grabbing his sword which makes you immediately obey. You do as he says, getting on your knees and closing your eyes.

You could hear the shuffle of his clothes before a thud of clothes falling down, then you felt it, something pressed up against your lips, it was wet. “Open your mouth,” He grumbles but you hesitate which makes him forcefully open your mouth by himself. Before you could react; he shoves his cock inside your mouth.

You open your eyes, staring at him in terror as he looks at you with a sadistic expression, “Bite and I'll cut your head off.” He grits his teeth before he grabs your hand and shoves his cock further into your mouth, the tip hitting the back of your throat.

Drool leaks from your mouth, dripping down your chin and neck as he thrusts inside your mouth, using your hair as leverage as he continues his assault in your mouth. Tears stream down your cheek, as you blink them away hoping not to upset him.

He closes his eyes enjoying the pleasure of fucking your mouth, ramming his dick into your mouth at a brutal pace— his balls slapping against your chin. You hold onto his thighs for balance, gripping them tightly, trying to resist his motion but it only further motivates him to gain control.

“Fuck— I'm gonna finish. Keep your mouth wide open.” He pulls out his cock, using his fist to finish himself off. His seed spills on your face and some of it goes into your mouth. “Swallow, it will cleanse you.” He utters expecting you to swallow, and you do; not wanting to anger him.

You hoped that this was the end, that he'd be done with this alone. “Lay on the ground, legs spread.” The command shatters your hope and you stare up at him, shaking your head no.

This angers him, and he forces you down, pushing you hard against the floor, laying you down while grabbing your legs and spreading your legs after hiking your skirt up.

“P-please my prince! Anything but this!” You cry out, pushing against him as he settles himself between your legs. “I need to cleanse you from the inside out, woman. This is very much required.” He grunts, keeping your legs forced open as he lines up his cock against your entrance.

Your eyes widen as you feel him prodding your entrance, before he gently pushes himself, he marvels at the sight of your blood leaking onto his dick “Your maidenhead is still intact? Do you witches take a vow for chastity like Septa's do too?” He mocks before pushing further in.

Your hands shoot up to his shoulders, gripping him tightly while you put in an effort to push him away, yet all of it is deemed futile when he doesn't budge an inch. He lets go of your leg before balancing himself on his arms placed on your sides as he just as quickly moves them to rip off your bodice, revealing your mounds of flesh.

He wastes no time before groping them with his hands, you shriek as he twists and plays with your nipple, leaning in to take your teat into his mouth; all while simultaneously pushing himself gently inside your cunt.

He suckles on your nipple, grazing it with his teeth and swirling his tongue around it, you couldn't help but feel ashamed as you looked at the sight.

The prince of the realm suckling away on your tits.

This sent a shot of thunder down your spine making heat pool between your legs, were you seriously getting aroused by this? You felt guilty as your own body betrayed you, welcoming the intruder into your body by providing the necessary needs.

Aemond pulls away from your breast before focusing on the other one, giving it the same attention as he did to the one before, one of his hands slowly trails down the outline of your waist to your belly before it finds itselfs cupping your heat before he further reaches down to where you both were attached.

He lets out a soft moan of approval when he finds that you're wet; pulling the slick up to where you clitoris is before he rubs small circles upon it. “Mhm, you're so fucking wet down there.” He mutters against your nipple, making you feel even more embarrassed.

Aemond lets out an audible moan when he feels you clench around him, he's now settled in cosily inside you, he lifts himself up and positions himself upright, grabbing your legs and throwing them over his shoulders before he begins to move inward and outward, slowly thrusting into you.

Your body adjusts to his size quickly, coating his cock with the essence of its approval which makes him chuckle. He accelerates the pace, driving himself into you like an animal, rutting against you like a beast in heat.

You find yourself a moaning mess amongst all of this unwillingly, the way his cock penetrating your cunt felt way more pleasing than it should have, and his hand was working its magic on your clit.

“Fuck— you feel so fucking good, darling, I'm lucky to have spared you.” He growls as he increases his speed even more, the stretch of his cock felt so euphoric that you couldn't help but enjoy it. You knew your body has already betrayed you, now even your mind has become its accomplice.

“Oh- I'm gonna finish inside you, my witch, with it you'll be cleansed of your wrongdoings.” He groans, feeling himself near the edge, his hand rubs faster against your clit, determined to make you cum before he does, all the while he's ramming into your sweet spot.

“Aemond—!” Both the stimulation cause a sudden burst of pleasure to explode in your body, its impact being so heavy that you moaned out his name involuntarily which ended up further pleasing him.

He comes to a sudden halt as he moans loudly, spurting his seed inside you; painting your walls white. He rides his orgasm out before completely pulling out and admiring the scene before him.

You were a panting mess with his seed leaking out of you, dripping down onto the wooden floor as you look dishevelled, your clothes are torn up and hair all messed up. You breathe heavily, processing what just happened.

“Do not waste my seed witch, it will cleanse you from in and out after it takes root in your womb.” Those words make your eyes widen at the implication and you slowly gaze upon him in shock as he puts on his pants back before lifting you off the ground.

He grabs your cloak from the nearby hanger and covers your body with it and soon he lifts you up, throwing you over his shoulders. “W-what are you doing?!” You yell at him as he takes you out of your house before throwing you onto his horse, forcing you to sit on it.

“Oh my sweet witch, you didn't think I was done with you did you? I'm taking you back to the castle, you're going to carry my children and give me heirs.” He says nonchalantly before he gets on the horse himself, holding the reins before taking off.

He had taken quite the liking to you more than he wanted to admit, he had no reason to spare you but he did anyway, perhaps witches weren't bad after all?

You survived but at what cost?

That's all you could think about as you leaned against his chest, the air hitting your face and blowing through your hair as he was taking you to the castle.

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

[diejager]

New Ownership

Pairing: Dark!Krueger + König x doll!reader

Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, possessive behaviour, magic?, death, heartbreak, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 1.2k

You used to watch people awe at you, expressing their shock, incredulous and pleasing, under the protection of your owner —your creator. You were an object of emotion; of melancholy. You were a life size doll made of porcelain and wax, of hohair and glass eyes, painted in the richest pigments and dressed in the finest fabrics, you were the epitome of treasure in your time. A doll made with utmost care and tenderness to heal a wounded heart. 

Your creator was a doll maker, building every doll with a special kind of affection, be it for his collection or for a client, he always loved his dolls. He made as much as he gave, the single joy of his life was the present his late-wife gave him, a daughter to call his own, someone soft and living unlike the cold bisque of his creations. You were a present for her coming-of-age, a mimicry of her person, made with love for the adoration he had for his daughter, and sadness for seeing her grow up and leave, to start a new life without him. Every stroke was perfection and every detail was imperfection, you were perfectly imperfect, a mirror to a human.

You were made as an object to remember him by once she left to live with her fiance, painted in the last moments before he saw her off. He dressed you up in a pretty dress, a voluptuous crimson for the passion and a deep black for the end of he past and the start of a new beginning. He made you into what he saw his sweet, precious daughter as, a dream that he was ecstatic to gift, but she was in an accident the week before her celebration. She died of it, passing in writhing pain and tearful agony. It broke the man who lived to care. Your tender creator who lived to love and give.

He drowned in the throes of sorrow and agony, paraliysed by his own fears and torn apart by his nightmares, and left the house you once loved to rot and waste away just as he was. Sobbing nights and depressing mornings, you were unable to do anything but watch as he spent his days rotting, his skin sinking, his hair outgrow and his complexity pale unhealthily, yet he still cared for you. Your creator —your father cleaned you, dressed you and incased you in a thin layer of wax and gel to protect you from the changing times. 

You gave him solace, something to live for after he closed his quaint shop and became a hermit, crazed and lonely, having nothing but you to talk to and spend his shortening time with. You wished you could tell him how much you cared, how much you shared his sorrows or how saddened you were to see him like this. And like his daughter, your father passed away, heartbroken and lonely, leaving you to watch over his cooling body dissolving in his bed. All the wasted years, spent seated in your chair, unmoving and unliving, never being able to reach out to him to show him how much you loved him. Life, however, ran its course, uncaring of any kind of self-sought fury or self-given agony, you were just a doll given conscience and memory. 

You were picked up by a relative, estranged and distant from yours. He was German, or Austrian from the rough tone he used, a deep growl as he appraised you, rough fingers caressing your face like he was admiring you. He was, this wasn’t admiration in his eyes, you knew it, that sick and twisted gleam in his brown eyes, it was obsession. It was a perverted kind of adoration, it made you fear what he would do to you.

And these fears, these demons that clung to your peripheral, weren’t unfounded, weren’t an illusion your conscience made up to fill the void in your empty core. You were carefully stuffed in a box, stored safely during the long move from your small town in Germany to a place in Austria, locked away in a loud and dark place and only brought out to be placed in another cage of gold. 

He laid you in a pentagram of sorts, a crooked thing painted in a dark red and terrifying runes that promised nothing but evil. He enacted this… ritual that would affect you in some way, his low chants and hisses while he stared you down with hungry eyes once he stripped you of all clothes, lathering your porcelain with markings. He scared you more, knowing that he had this planned out, and that he wasn’t alone. 

There was a shadow of a giant behind him, a man heads taller than most with cold eyes peeking through a fabric to gaze at you. He had broad shoulders and thick arms, seemingly swallowing the corner he stood from. He took up a lot of your attention, ripped between the chanting man and him from your chair, placed perfectly at the center of this ritualistic circle. You were a show to the giant and a project to your new owner, a spectacle to watch unravel and writhe in pain.

It hurt. Why did this hurt? Your skin tingled, an annoyance that grew to a boiling agony, this sacrilegious magic reworking your imperfect body to fit one of his whims. You shook in your chair, the red sinking into your skin, lining the inside of your precious porcelain with runes as your fingers and toes flexed, limbs jerking from the information overload on your new nerves, synapses snapping into place and building a circuit of sensitive system. You could blink and you could cry, tears springing from your fluttering lashes, lips trembling before you screamed, a shrill cry that wailed out of your lungs. 

Your chest burned, it felt heavy with an erratic pulse, beat after beat slamming into your calcified ribs, warm fat and strained muscles. You felt like you were drowning, your throat clogged with something sick and dying after you shriek, acidic to your tongue. It stole the air from your lungs and you had to fill it back, the nagging urge to do so. Your chest expanded with your first breath, it hurt - it burned, but you didn’t drown - but it seamed the first seed of life within you. 

You slumped forward, eyes rolling to the back of your head as the last words he uttered passed through your mind, a searing memory forever imprinted in your conscience. You fell into warm arms, a soothing warmth unlike the boiling pit of magma that raged over you, embracing you with a quiet coo from the man who brought you to life. He hoisted you up, wrapping an arm under your knees and another firmly pressing your naked chest to his. Yours limbs were strangers to you, new and uncanny that you couldn’t move or control just yet. You limply laying your head in the crook of his neck, burying your nose in a green veil smelling strongly of musk and metal, your legs too weak and arms too tense like a newly born fawn.

“Besorg mir etwas, um sie zu bedecken, König”

“Ja, bin gleich wiener da..”

“Welcome to the living, Rehkitz.”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami

[sunlightmurdock]

Ashes, Ashes | Two | Bradley Bradshaw

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Synopsis: In which Maverick didn’t make it home after the Uranium mission. He’s missing, presumed dead. There are things that have to be done — someone has to take care of the house, the bills.

So, Maverick’s daughter is back in Fightertown for the first time since she was in elementary school. There’s a gaping hole in both of their lives now, and somehow, the world’s supposed to just keep on turning without him.

warnings: bradley bradshaw x minimally descriptive oc avery mitchell. age gap (23/33), smut, angst, hurt / comfort, mentions of character death, mourning, military inaccuracies. This entire fic and my blog is an 18+ space, minors do not interact. Do not repost.

…

Bradley rents a bungalow about twenty minutes from base, towards the south of the San Diego bay. He explains, on the drive there, while she is hugging an overnight bag of her things, that he’s been renting it from this sweet old lady for the past four years — but he’s only been living in it for about three quarters of that time, with deployments.

He talks a lot. Shooting halfway amused looks across at him every now and again as he talks over his music, explaining his entire rental history, Avery just lets him go on and on.

Maybe he’s worried that the silence will give her room to start tearing up again, but she knows that won’t happen — it was already a rare occurrence, just the once. 

She lets him talk. He doesn’t seem to mind how much attention she’s paying either. Anything other than silence is fine, even if he’s the only one filling it.

The respite comes when he parks in the driveway, hops out, and proudly displays the home to her. It’s white all over and covered in plants, all up the driveway and over the porch. There’s a surfboard sitting on the porch, waxed up and looking ready to go.

Inside is masculine and simple, and spotless. It looks more lived in than Maverick’s place, but in an exceptionally organised way. 

Just past the front door, he has an organised entryway with a closet and one of those shoe racks that looks like an end table. 

Beyond that, his living area is all open plan. His kitchen is to the left right as you walk in, and the living room is the clear focus. He’s got a big grey sectional pointed at a big tv with a stack of video games beside it.

He doesn’t ask her to take her shoes off by the door, but she copies politely when he kicks his off. 

That leaves her, blue and white tube socks, toeing against the chewed up corner of the area rug while he busies himself with fixing the few things he deems to be out of place. 

Itching to keep moving, she prods at the fabric, examining the teeth marks, wondering where the dog must be.

“Oh— that was my ex-girlfriend’s dog. I’ve been meaning to buy a new rug.” He explains, furrowing his brows at the spot as he tosses a throw pillow down onto his soft looking grey couch. “Um — so, I do have a guest room, but it’s kind of a gym right now. You can just make yourself at home, and I’ll go get everything out of your way.”

“I can take the couch.”

“No, no, you deserve some privacy at least. I’ll just be a sec — I have sodas and beers in the fridge, glasses are in the cabinet to the right. Help yourself.” He’s a good host, and a better one than she had been yesterday, considering that Maverick’s place is now technically her own.

As he heads for the long, stretching hallway, she shoots a look back down at the mauled rug. With how spotless the rest of this place is, he must have really liked that girl to let her bring her dog here, and to let it chew up his stuff.

She wonders, aimlessly, if he was mad about it. If they argued. If they broke up long ago.

Avery hasn’t had too many relationships of her own. Some mediocre sex and a couple of couch-based movie dates here and there, nothing to write home about. 

She sits cautiously, sinking into the pillowy cushion of the couch, taking the time finally to really look around her. The space is bright, with big windows all around and a view of the bay. There’s a sun catcher dancing from the curtain rod, casting rainbows across his wooden floors.

Maybe his ex had bought that, too.

The bungalow is small, but it fits all of his belongings with an abundance of space left. Avery thinks back to her father’s place, always cluttered and spilling over with junk, treasure from his years of travels.

Maybe Bradley is a little bit less sentimental about keeping things.

He rattles around in the room at the end of the hall for a while, huffing occasionally. While waiting on the couch, she considers getting up and offering to help a few times, but ultimately convinces herself against it.

“Alright! Fresh sheets and some space to move, there’s still a bunch of stuff in there but I tried to get it out of your way.” He comes strolling back down the hallway and drops down onto the couch at her side, letting out a heavy sigh.

She screws her mouth up a little, looking across at him while he rests his eyes, long, dark eyelashes brushing his warm cheeks. His long legs, covered by worn denim, stretch out far enough that he has to bend them around his coffee table.

When one hand comes up to card through his mussed curls, she catches sight of the tattoo inked across the expanse of his bicep. LXXXVI. ‘86. She starts to think on it, letting him enjoy his moment of peace, when he shifts and startles her enough to drag her eyes away from his flexing arm.

“Thanks, for everything,” Avery manages to still sound a little cautious in her tone, even when she’s rushing to speak. “Staying last night, driving me around today, letting me stay with you. I really appreciate it.”

He smiles without opening his eyes, reaching out and letting his hand pat skim across the seam of her jeans, patting at her knee platonically.

“Any time.” He breezes, cool. 

The first night is uneventful. Avery sleeps restlessly on the futon in Bradley’s spare bedroom, turned home gym. 

She pretends that she doesn’t see the numbers on the sides of the weights, and pretends also that she doesn’t give a little bit of her imagination to the way that tattoo must move when he lifts them.

When she wakes up, Bradley is gone and there is a note on the kitchen counter explaining that he went for a run. He was gone for two hours, trying to run far enough that the sick, hot, thudding feeling in his chest would stop.

Back at the house, Natasha stops by and spends the afternoon. She lets herself into the place with her key, which sits on her own keychain like she’s had it for a while. Watching a sitcom from the armchair while they sit beside each other on the couch, Avery notices that the two of them are very close.

She wonders if Natasha happens to have a dog.

Sleep doesn’t come any easier for either one of them the second night. When he finally catches sight of the red, flashing declaration on his alarm clock that it is now 2:01am, Bradley gives up.

He tries to be quiet as he’s getting up, careful not to wake Avery. They’re in much closer quarters in his place than they had been back at Maverick’s house, her door is right opposite his across the narrow hallway.

He pads down the hallway, rubbing at his eyes, tossing up whether he’s going to try to drink something warm and go back to bed, or if he’s just going to stay up. He can’t keep not sleeping.

He almost heads straight for the kitchen, freezing in his tracks as he finally takes note of the blue light coming from his living room, and the sound of women’s voices. It takes him a second, even though he’d been being so considerate on her behalf, to remember that he has a guest over.

“Ave?” He mumbles. 

The TV immediately falls silent. She winces from her spot on the couch, craning her neck to try to see him at the edge of the hallway.

“Just me. I’m sorry! Did I wake you?” She sounds worried. He’s still half asleep. 

He shakes his head as he steps out from the shadows and heads for his kitchen. “No, I just wasn’t expecting you to be up. I couldn’t sleep.”

He passes by pretty quickly, concealed behind the kitchen island in just a few steps. Still, she saw him. Illuminated only by the light of the television, wearing a tight pair of black boxer briefs and dog tags around a silver chain. Long, muscled legs and tapered hips. 

Sure, he was good looking before, and clearly fit — but she wasn’t expecting what had been under those slightly loose t-shirts.

Her mouth is dry as she mumbles out a soft, “Me either.”

“D’you want a tea?” He stands with her back to her now, reaching around in the darkness of his kitchen. She stares, unblinking, at his back.

“You drink tea?”

“Sometimes,” He cranes his neck to look at her over his shoulder. “That’s not weird.”

Her lips almost quirk, and she gives him a confirming shake of her head. “I didn’t say it was. Do you have green tea?”

He scoffs without looking. “Of course I have green tea.”

This whole lack of sleep thing isn’t new to him. It comes with the grief, but it’s there even when he feels like he isn’t grieving anymore. Since he was a kid, Bradley has had thoughts that keep him up at night, thoughts bad enough to stir him from peaceful, pleasant dreams.

He’s tried every tea in the catalog.

He carries the two mugs across the living room without once noticing the way he’s been stared at. He sets hers down on a cute little wicker coaster on his coffee table, walking past and dropping down onto the corner of the sectional.

His legs stretch out and he shifts and twists until he finds himself comfortable. “What’s this?”

She sets her gaze steadily on the television, her hands in her lap, wondering if he’s this brash with all of his house guests. With a swallow, she shrugs her shoulders. “Oh, it’s just this TV show about a columnist in New York in the nine—“

“Are you explaining Sex and the City to me?” Bradley sounds bewildered, his face stark as he stares at her across the couch. Avery’s lips tug at a smile, and she almost forget the nerves she’d been feeling.

Until, the light from the television catches on the silver of his dogtags. Her gaze drops, like a flicker, to his bare, toned chest — and she swiftly looks back to the television.

“You’ve seen it?” She asks softly.

He’s beyond good looking. He’d always been okay looking, he’d had a nice smile in all of those pictures she had seen. But now, the roundness of his cheeks is gone and he has grown into his nose, his lips are a shade of pink that would be a bestseller in cosmetics. 

Avery curses herself; she had been pretty successfully pretending not to notice that he had gotten good looking. Then, he comes strolling down that hallway and making her tea from his apparently extensive collection, having the nerve to sprawl across his own couch looking like that. 

Across from a girl who hasn’t seen any action in the better part of a year too. 

She almost scowls. 

“Every episode,” He answers gleefully. At first, she thinks of Natasha or that mysterious girlfriend with the badly behaved dog. Then, he adds, “This was my mom’s favourite TV show, ever.”

And suddenly, she feels a little guilty for acting like those muscles make him some kind of ladies’ man. Just because the rest of them have been, she guesses. 

Bradley seems like a nice guy. He slept in a bed clearly meant for a child all night last night, and he let her take the first shower this morning, he chased her across the parking lot and offered to fix all of her problems in one fell swoop. 

Maybe that’s because of some kind of debt he thinks he owes to Pete, and maybe it’s just because that’s the kind of man he is.

She glances across, watching him chuckle at a classic Samantha one-liner and take a sip of a raspberry herbal tea. Wrinkling her nose, she settles back down into the spot she had been relaxing in, and lets herself zone out again. 

They watch a couple of episodes. Unlike earlier, Bradley doesn’t feel the need to talk. He likes the quiet, mixed with their frequent chuckles. It’s an okay thing, to not have to fill that silent void. 

Avery is the first to excuse herself to go back to bed, and she hasn’t once mentioned his little Calvin Kleins or the way they make his thighs look. 

As she walks away, Bradley catches himself. He hadn’t much thought about what she might wear to bed, or what she’d been wearing when he first sat down with her. Her hips wiggle in her stride, her fitted pyjama shorts hugging her ass as she heads for the guest room. 

The material of her loose t-shirt is tucked in at the back. Those cotton shorts hug her hips and show off just the tiniest glimpse of her round ass, from where they have ridden up a little.

He looks away before she’s even out of view, but it doesn’t change what he had been thinking. She’s Pete’s kid, for gods’ sakes. Not much of a kid anymore, but still, it wouldn’t be right.

Man, Maverick would hate it, too. 

Bradley wishes, silently, that he was here to scold him. Pete would square his shoulders and get that rare and serious look on his face, warning Bradley to keep his hands to himself. And Bradley would smile and taunt him, saying, “Don’t worry, Mav, I’ll be the perfect gentleman.”

With her dad gone, it just makes it worse.

These next few weeks are going to be hard, and the least he could do is think with his head to keep things simple between the two of them. He heads back to bed late enough for it to almost not be worth it. 

He wakes to the sound of chaos over the comms, that same last conversation, those snowy peaks behind his eyelids. 

Mouth dry, heart thudding, his eyes are still shut when he stumbles out into the hall and twists the bathroom door handle. It jams, and he remembers. The sounds of water coming from behind the door stops abruptly.

Peeking her head around the shower curtain, already wincing, Avery calls back out to him. “Sorry! I’ll just be a second!”

“No — sorry, take as long as you want.” He calls back, shaking his head and heading for the kitchen. Restless and anxious, he splashes cold water across his face and thinks about Pete.

He saw Mav do this insurmountable times. He remembers all of the mornings that Mav would wake up gasping, shaking, and he would head straight for the bathroom, bolting the door. He’d come back out okay again. He wonders if Mav still did it, even all these years later.

If he still heard Goose’s voice through the comms, calling him out of his dreams. 

The thought makes him shudder. The bathroom door unlocking makes him flinch, looking up sharply. 

Avery steps out of the bathroom, her hair still dry and tied back, droplets of water still beading along the skin and flowing under the plush blue towel she had taken from the linen closet. He had told her to help herself, but he’s staring at her now and she’s second guessing herself.

He stands at his kitchen sink, his hands braced against the countertop, his knuckles white. She barely even notices his little Calvin Kleins. Her brows knit together as she takes a step toward him, barely visible around the corner.

“Hey… are you okay?” Her face creases with concern, lingering in the hallway so that he can see her just enough.

He remembers to let go of the countertop.

“Yeah,” He breathes out, unconvincingly, reaching up and shaking a hand through his tangled curls. He takes a second, trying to gather his thoughts enough to keep the conversation moving. “Were you still thinking you’re gonna need a job while you’re here?”

She blinks, her scrunched up face relaxing as she takes another step closer, cocking her head at him.

“Um, yeah. I think so.”

He nods. “Get dressed. We’ll go see my friend in a bit, can see if it’s something you might be interested in. Maybe, then we’ll take your car to a mechanic this afternoon.” 

Out of the house, he feels like he can breathe again. It’s just sleeping, that’s all. When he’s really awake, he can control it all a little better, it doesn’t get to him as much.

He drives the same way he had yesterday. Three fingers around the bottom of the wheel, seventies music playing. Today, the windows are down. Avery makes a pretty good passenger — she doesn’t ask him to change his music and she doesn’t put her head in the way when he’s trying to check his mirrors.

Mainly because she isn’t once watching the road, but that’s okay. 

She looks around the city like she’s seeing it for the first time. Mav lived her for longer than she’s been alive — and the entire place seems foreign to her.

Bradley knows both of his parents’ hometowns like the back of his hand, and he still hasn’t ever lived in either one of them. 

“Did your dad ever tell you about Penny?” He asks so calmly, drumming his fingers along the wheel, Ray-Ban caravans sitting across the bridge of his nose.

The look that Avery shoots him gives him more than enough of an answer. She sets her phone down in her lap and studies him, frowning slightly.

“Who’s Penny?”

Shit. Bradley shakes his head and his voice pitches up a fraction. “Oh, she and Mav were just good friends for a long time.”

A product of one of Maverick’s ‘good friendships’ herself, Avery doesn’t need Bradley to explain to her what that means. It makes her a little less excited to get to wherever he’s taking her. 

With one quick glance across, he catches the little frown settling across her lips.

“She owns that bar on Breakers Beach. We drove past it yesterday when we saw Admiral Simpson?” Bradley prompts her, glancing across at the passenger seat. She nods along. “I texted her yesterday and she really wanted to meet you, said you can have some shifts there if you want them.”

Avery wrinkles her nose, trying not to frown across at him when he’s doing his best to just be helpful.

“What? — What’s that look?” He prompts, looking across at her with an amused smile toying at his lips. 

“She’s like a long time ago ex, right? She wasn’t dating Pete recently?” 

Bradley thinks on his answer for a moment. He isn’t surprised that she figured out there was something between Mav and Penny, he would have figured it out too.

But, he had heard of Mav’s experience with Penny Benjamin a long time before he had actually gotten to meet Penny Benjamin. Really, he’s surprised to find that Avery has never heard of her, she and Mav were really on and off for quite a while.

He guesses that Mav kept that kind of thing from her.

Which means that he would want Bradley to keep the fact that he had seen Mav and Penny leave the bar together three times in the weeks leading the mission to himself too.

“Yeah. Like a long time ago.” He confirms.

“Alright, okay — yeah, this’ll be good,” Avery sounds more like she’s giving herself a pep talk than like she’s replying to him. He shoots her a smile and a nod anyway. “Thanks, again, by the way. You’re cool for setting this all up.”

Cool. Not the kind of compliment he’s usually searching for from a pretty girl, but he’ll take it.

Reaching across the centre console, he gives her knee a quick squeeze. “Not so bad yourself, Mitchell.”

Briefly, his palm lingers there. It’s just because he’s focusing on turning into the parking lot, but it’s still his large palm hugging the curve of her knee for a minute longer than it should have.

Completely over the thick protection of her jeans, but she stares at the touch anyways. Then, she dares to look back up at him. Totally relaxed as he pulls into a spot up front like it’s his own personal one. 

One more squeeze, and he takes his hand back and swings open the door. The parking lot is surprisingly busy for the middle of the week at noon.

 Avery follows him out of the vehicle, gingerly matching his pace as he heads inside. It’s once he’s spotted that she falters. 

“Rooster!” Someone even taller than he is comes marching up right away and throws his arms around Bradley. Bradley hugs him loosely, greeting him with an aloof but firm pat of the back.

“Payback.” He greets quietly.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you. How are you holding up?” His warm eyes bore into Bradley, his head bowed slightly and his voice sincere. He hasn’t spotted her yet.

“I’m alright,” Bradley sounds convincing enough, but this Payback guy hadn’t seen how rattled Bradley had looked this morning. “This is Avery.” 

Finally, Payback’s gaze flickers to the girl standing behind Rooster. Halfway tucked behind his shoulder, staring at him through her lashes, looking totally lost and sheepish.

“Mav’s kid?”

In the short time Bradley has known her, he knows that’s not the kind of response she would have wanted to get.

Swinging his arm out and throwing the heavy limb around her shoulders, Payback watches Rooster drag the stunned girl out from behind him and present her at his side. “It’d pay you to learn your new bartender’s name, Fitch.”

He’s looking Avery right in the eye, and he already can see that Bradley’s going to have to be reminded that not everyone likes the heavy handed approach to affection he can have.

Still, he smiles at her like he means it and nods his head respectfully.

“Already got it, it’ll be good to have you around, Avery.” 

A small smile works its way across her lips, grateful if not anything else.

“Nice to meet you.” She answers him quietly, stiff against Bradley’s side. He pats her back and urges her forwards.

“Here, this is Penny. Penny, meet your new bartender.”

Penny Benjamin is tall and striking, standing behind the bar with her eyes already on the new bartender. There’s a recognition and affection in the blue of her gaze that tells Avery she was lied to just a moment ago.

That’s a woman who cared deeply for Pete Mitchell.

It puts a bad taste in her mouth, a pit in her stomach, a sudden coldness about the possibility of this job. Even if just for a short time, for however long she’s here, she’s just going to be an extension of the man she had always felt so far from.

Penny cocks her head to the side, just a bit. Sure, she can see semblances of Pete in the girl across from her, but it’s the rigid, flighty look in her eyes that catches Penny’s attention. 

Across from her is someone with something to prove, and a character they’ve been playing for a long time now. That’s what feels most familiar.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Avery says stiffly, trying to sound like she means it. 

Penny nods, smiling. She glances towards Bradley, then back to the girl still tucked under his arm.

“You too. Let’s talk.” 

As Jimmy takes over the bar duties, Bradley’s left with the prospect of facing his friends when Penny and Avery disappear toward the back deck.

He scratches at the back of his neck, shooting one last look at the two of them over his shoulder, and wondering what he’s supposed to say to all of those guys. 

One by one, he could manage… but all in a group like that? — He hasn’t seen most of them since it happened. 

It’s Natasha that he can trust to catch his eye first, giving him that kind of look cautious parents give their kids when coaching them on a bike. She worries a lot for someone who swears that she doesn’t care about the meatheads she hangs out with.

He heads for her as coolly as he can manage, hoping that the other guys know not to give him a hard time today. They don’t, they never would. 

His therapist says it’s a defensive thing, the way he waits for people to say the wrong thing. When he’s hurt, he expects it, almost. He’s trying to get out of it. 

They can all give him credit for that.

Even so, it doesn’t take long for conversation to fade from small talk to the newest, most exciting subject.

“So, she’s staying at your place?” Natasha’s the first one to bring up the missing party, picking up on a comment about the two of them arriving together.

Bradley shakes his head and fiddles with his root beer bottle. “No, she’ll be over at Mav’s place once we get her car fixed up. It’s a real piece of shit, I don’t even know what they’d do to make it run any better.”

“Mav loves cars — and he lets her drive a shitbox like that?” It’s Javy who scoffs that out, the only one still talking about the Captain who had taken a shine to him in present tense. 

Bradley just shrugs. This isn’t the place to unpack whatever went down between Mav and Avery. He doesn’t know enough, even if he wanted to talk about it.

“She came all the way down here by herself?” Callie asks. She doesn’t say it, but she’s referring to the fact that her mother came all the way out to Lemoore to try to move her into the barracks like it was college when she was that age. 

Bradley shrugs again. He hasn’t heard much about Avery’s mom in the past twenty years, he isn’t even sure that he ever met her — certainly wouldn’t be able to pick her out of a crowd. All he knows is the gossip he’d gotten from his mom when it was all going down. 

“How’s she doing?” Bob asks, his blue eyes deep and sincere as he searches Bradley’s face, knowing better than to ask the same question. 

“Okay, I think.” Bradley muses, thinking of how quickly Avery had questioned the recovery efforts yesterday. “I dunno how close they were, but it’s always gotta be hard. Just… trying to make it a little easier on her, I guess.” 

They all nod, slowly.

And then Avery comes marching back inside, her chin high and her hair a little wind-swept, making a beeline right for the closest thing she’s got to a friend in this town.

“Hey.” Bradley offers her a smile, and reaches out for her. His hand grazes the back of her bicep, and she smiles more genuinely than she has in the past two days.

“Hi.”

He catches sight of himself being watched, and takes a look back over Avery’s shoulder to find Penny looking. Her blue eyes flicker down to his hand on Avery’s arm. 

Pursing her lips, she rolls her eyes and shakes her head, and Bradley’s mouth almost falls open. There’s no way she thinks that he’s hitting on Avery. He’s just being friendly.

Penny knows Bradley well enough to know that. He’s always been a very affectionate guy. Still, the look that she gives him is one that certainly, and silently, tells him to keep his hands to himself. 

He blinks, and finds his friends looking back at him expectantly. 

“So, you’re taking the job?” He checks, shaking off Penny’s watchful eyes and settling back into what he knows. Avery nods her head at him.

“Starting tomorrow.”

Tomorrow. That’s way soon. He’s going to have to make sure he doesn’t keep her up until four in the morning watching the misadventures of Carrie Bradshaw tonight. 

“Well, guys, say hi to your new bartender.” 

He brings the bottle of rootbeer back up to his lips and shoots a quick glance back over Avery’s shoulder. Penny stares back, unfazed, as he narrows his eyes back at her.

What does she know about anything, anyways?

…

[bangaveragewhitewine]

all is calm, all is bright

dad!Eddie Munson x mom!Reader 

Your baby’s first Christmas, a silent moment in the festive glow.

Word count: 1.2k

Content/Warnings: Pure fluff. Short and sweet. Eddie and Reader are parents. Childbirth mention. Reader referred to as 'Mama'. No physical description of Reader - insert yourself, my loves!

Author’s note: Something small and seasonal as I try to get back into some sort of creative flow again. Much grá to you all, my lovelies ❤️

Dividers by @saradika-graphics 

Cherry Lane glowed in the dusky winter light that fell over Hawkins. The entire town dazzled with a warm holiday glow from Christmas lights and the bright excitement of the littlest townsfolk all riled up for a visit from the Big Man later that night. 

Your little home was no different - in fact, it might have been the cosiest home in the whole county. Coloured lights twinkled around the window frames, a handmade wreath hung on the door, and plastic candy canes diligently lined the snow-dusted path to guide Santa’s sleigh. It was a picture-perfect holiday card, inside and out.

Maeve Munson was too young to comprehend the very concept of Christmas, or Santa Claus for that matter. Too shiny and new to recognise the stocking with her name on it hanging above the small fireplace, or the presents wrapped in glossy printed paper beneath the tree.

Just a few weeks old, she arrived as an early gift for you and Eddie. The best one you had ever received. In true Munson fashion, her entrance to the world had been a little dramatic, but Eddie had held your hand and let you squeeze as hard as you needed until Maeve made her debut with a head of dark hair and a loud set of lungs. 

From your cosy nesting place on the sofa, you watch her big brown eyes gazing at the twinkling coloured lights and baubles on the tree. With her cheek resting against her father’s shoulder, Maeve blinks, slow and sleepy,  as she listens to his voice.

“I know you’re really into the boob right now, kid, but you’re going to love Christmas dinner once you’re big enough.” Eddie’s voice is a low murmur as he rocks slowly from side to side, chest to chest with his daughter. 

His hand looks huge on her back, patting a slow and gentle rhythm that just exists for the two of them. 

You can’t take your eyes off of them, despite how tired you feel. It would be so easy to just close them, a quick few minutes rest, but you would miss them too much. 

You wish that your camera was closer so you could snap and savour this moment as one you can hold in your hands. 

It is peaceful bliss bathed in colourful light; you soak it in, savour it. 

There have been no tears for an hour, though you feel like you are right on the precipice of breaking that streak with how much love and joy you feel, swelling like pride in your chest. 

The house is warm, the old window frames are fixed with double-glazed glass that keeps the chilly winter air out. It’s rough around the edges, but there is food in the fridge and the cupboards are full. There’s a tree and lights, a few presents beneath it. 

It’s not much but it’s enough. All you need is right in front of you. 

Eddie catches you watching them, smiles as he nuzzles against chestnut brown hair that will curl and coil like his own in time. 

He pauses his murmured monologue, his waxing lyrical about everything he will pile on his plate tomorrow. Everyone’s bringing something to family Christmas at Harrington’s - you managed to make two desserts while Eddie introduced Maeve to A Charlie Brown Christmas, one eye on you the whole time to make sure you weren’t doing too much. Bringing the Littlest Party Member is the real treat for your friends and family, who will take turns holding her and squabble when one of them hogs the baby for too long.

“Hi Mama,” he says, his voice so soft as he crosses the room slowly on socked feet.

“Hi,” you whisper back, the thick feeling in your throat stalling you from speaking any louder. Part of it is fear, fear that you will undo Eddie’s magic touch at lulling Maeve to sleep. Her eyes are almost closed, almost. 

Slowly, so slowly, he lowers down to sit by you. His gentle sway keeps up, like a lazy metronome, as he takes a load off. His sigh is carried from the tips of his toes, feeling like an almost burnt-out bulb.

“You’re really good at that,” you murmur, smiling through the tiredness.

“Hmm? Don’t count on it, she’s going to be wide awake again in a sec when she realises we’re not standing up.” 

“Mm, maybe. This whole Dad thing suits you, Munson.”

When he smiles, you can still see the shadows beneath his eyes - you have a set to match, his and hers. There’s spit-up on his sleeve and his hair needs a wash. But he is beautiful.  

Being parents wasn’t easy, you didn’t think it would be but some days you didn’t think it would be so hard either. You think that maybe if Eddie let his eyes slip closed, he would fall asleep too from his own gentle rocking rhythm. 

“I can take a turn,” you say, bringing your hand to rub his back in wide smooth circles, mirroring him and Maeve. 

You know his scowl is coming, and still, it makes you smile. 

“Mm-mm, my turn,” he said, brows pulled in as his mouth pouts prettily. Much like your friends, it was easy to fall into a parental squabble of taking turns for the shitty nappies and the baby cuddles. 

“Baby hogger,” you whisper without malice, pushing yourself closer to kiss his stubbly cheek. 

“Yep, my baby now. You get to cuddle her all day when m’workin’.” 

Eddie turns his head, lets his nose bump yours. His chin juts forward just a little to beg a kiss. You don’t even need to think about it, loving him is as easy as breathing.

There’s a pause, like bracing for impact, when Maeve makes a noise against his shoulder. The pause in his swaying did not go unnoticed. 

“Can’t get anything past her, huh?” you murmur, leaving one last smiley kiss to his full lower lip. 

“Nah, m’done for with you two.” His face cracks into a smile, he wouldn’t want it any other way. 

You watch as he sits back a little, resting his head against the back of the second-hand sofa. You peel yourself up just enough to drag the coffee table close enough so he can put his feet up. 

“Only ‘coz it’s Christmas,” you murmur, seeing his grin. 

“You spoil me, baby.” 

You spoil him more by dragging your blanket over his lap, sharing its fleecy warmth as Maeve slowly, so slowly, drifts off. 

There are still gifts to wrap for Wayne and for your friends, laundry to be tossed in the dryer, but for now, you sit together as your baby sleeps, basking in the glow of Christmas. 

Maeve’s breath is deep and steady; she makes these tiny noises that have brought tears to your eyes and Eddie’s on more than one occasion. Partly because she is finally asleep, but mostly because they are the sweetest thing you have ever heard. 

Scooting closer, you press another kiss to Eddie’s cheek and close your eyes for just a moment, breathing in his warm spice, a hint of tobacco from his one cigarette - he wants to be around for Maeve, for you. 

“Merry Christmas, Eddie.” 

Your voice is just above a whisper, just loud enough for Eddie to hear. Your words warm him, settle deep in his bones and set his heart aglow. 

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.” 

His lips press yours in a single kiss, sweeter than any hot cocoa, any candy cane. 

Thank you for reading! Reblogs, likes and comments are absolutely adored and cherished ❤️ 

[drabblesandimagines]

Bliss

Leon Kennedy x afab reader When I am on my period, you get period fluff

You wince as your stomach twists, jab the mascara wand into your eye rather than coat your lashes and swear, gripping the bathroom counter with your other hand.

“Great.” You hiss, closing your eye and grabbing a wet wipe, trying to salvage what you’d applied to your bottom lashes as your eye starts to water. The box of so-called express pain relief pills you’d downed greedily 30 minutes ago taunts you from the counter. They had barely touched the surface of the tormenting cramps that had started this afternoon and you wonder if you can sue the pharmaceutical company for such blatant lies.

You try and steady yourself with measured breaths, opening your eye cautiously to inspect it in the mirror. It looks a little red and you groan. You’re bloated, sore, stupidly emotional – irrationally cried at the fact that a spam email had made its way into your actual inbox at lunch - and the last thing you want to be doing right now is getting dolled up in one your classiest and form-fitting little black dresses, don high heels and socialize for the evening, no matter how much you’d been looking forward to it ahead of your visitor.

And not to mention that it’s at the bloody White House.

Leon had returned from Spain two months ago to silent fanfare - wouldn’t be good for US morale to know the President’s daughter had been kidnapped by a cult and infected with a parasite in the first place. Working as an intelligence agent for the DSO meant you’d read of the horrors from the report, comforted Leon when he awoke from nightmares of blackened veins, tentacles bursting forth from skulls, so you’re grateful that the President insisted Leon was given some time off work, though his first day back was looming on the horizon. Last week, on embossed white card with gold accents, sealed by a wax stamp came the invitation in a cursive hand to one Mr Leon S Kennedy and partner to the Presidential dining room.

There’s a knock on the bathroom door in Leon’s familiar rhythm.

“You nearly ready, sweetheart? I think the car will be here soon.”

“Sorry. Yeah,” you call back, “Final touches.” You turn back to the mirror and grab the mascara wand, cautiously covering your top lashes to even things out before frowning at your complexion. Are you breaking out too? A wave of pain rolls through your stomach once more and you grimace. Maybe you should’ve gone with a heat pad after all, but this dress is snug - it’d look bulky and weird on your stomach and the Secret Service guys will be all over it in the security checks.

You zhuzh up your hair one more time, plaster on a smile and unlock the bathroom door, finding Leon leaning up against the wall opposite. He lets out a low whistle as you emerge, hair falling into his blue eyes, and you duck your head in embarrassment at the attention. Honestly, right now you’d prefer him to look anywhere but at you.

“Hello, beautiful,” he smiles, looking unbelievably handsome in his best suit. He’s forgone the tie as usual – can’t stand them – but still looks appropriately smart. He stands up from the wall, slips a hand around your waist to pull you in for a kiss but you flinch at his touch, causing him to stop and frown. “You okay?”

“Mm, I’m fine.” You try and step out of his grip to head towards the stairs. “We should go keep an eye out for the car.”

His arm remains firmly in place. “You’re a bad liar.”

“I’m a great liar,” you retort. “Comes with the profession.” Your whole job depended on it, really – gathering intelligence was a lot of charming people into feeling comfortable around you, loosening their tongue into sharing secrets or giving you access to places you’re not meant to be.

“Not to me.” He’s got you there. “What’s the matter?”

You sigh, feeling a headache coming on to add to the list of ailments. “Can we leave it, please?”

“I don’t want to leave it – something’s wrong.” Leon is stubborn, doesn’t like to leave things hanging. He knows how precious life is, doesn’t want to leave anything to be dealt with later in case later never comes.

He stares at you - pout on his lips and those blue puppy dog eyes.

“Period.” You mumble, hoping that would suffice.

“Ah.” He nods.

“What does that mean?” You know it’s the hormones talking, even as you say it, but you’re stubborn too. It’s completely irrational, but his tone’s rubbed you the wrong way.

“It’s a sympathetic ah. Anything I can do to help?”

“No,” you grumble back. “I just want this evening over with.”

He looks confused, then. “I thought you were looking forward to it - you were excited yesterday-”

“I was,” you snap back. “But now the last thing I want to be doing is wearing this stupid tight dress and heels and get in a limo, be felt up by Secret Service agents for five minutes to make sure I’m not sneaking in a bomb between my thighs, and then go and dine with the President of the United States and his daughter, trying to remember what seven different types of silverware are meant for what course and then eating tiny bites and drinking bitter expensive wine, all when I could be at home, in my pyjamas, eating pizza and ice-cream and watching absolute trash on TV, cuddling my boyfriend.”

“Okay.” Leon cups your face. “Breathe.”

You take a deep breath, feeling a little winded from your rant.

“Good.” He smiles, dropping his hands and pulling his phone out of his trousers pocket. “Now, go get changed.”

You weren’t expecting that. “Sorry?”

“Get changed – go put your pyjamas on.”

“But dinner-”

“I’ll cancel, and then I’ll order us some pizza.”

You stare at him as if he’s lost his mind. “You can’t cancel on the President.”

“I rescued his daughter, he owes me.” Leon shrugs, as if he was just asking for a raincheck. “Besides, it’s Ashley who wanted this the most. We’ll reschedule.”

“No, I just need to tough it out.”

He raises an eyebrow at your word choice. “You do not.”

“You do it all the time – dragging yourself about the place with bullet and stab wounds.”

“Sweetheart, you have to agree that’s a little different. Us having dinner at the White House is not a life or death situation. I didn’t have a choice but to grit my teeth and get on with it, you very much do.” He grabs your hand, squeezing it tight. “Besides, you put up with enough that’s out of our control by these guys – missed anniversaries, birthdays, dinners - when they send me out on missions. I’m not going to sit and make you go through an uncomfortable evening when you don’t need or want to.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, quietly.

“Positive.” He steps forwards, gives you a chaste kiss on the lips in reassurance. “Go and get comfortable – I’ll handle it.”

--

30 minutes later, you’re laying on the couch, head in Leon’s lap as he runs his fingers through your hair, another rubbing your back – dressed in loose pyjama shorts and one of his old sweatshirts, a hot water bottle that he’d made pressed against your stomach and one of those “so bad it’s good” reality relationship shows playing on the widescreen. One that Leon insists he detests, but remembers everyone’s names and asks what happened on previous episodes if he misses one.

“Was Ashley okay?”

“Fine. She’s already texted me three alternate dates.” He pauses, raising an eyebrow at the screen. “I thought they broke up.”

“Uh-uh. He proposed.”

He scoffs in disbelief. “This cannot be real.”

You sigh, content, and nuzzle into his thigh. “Love you.”

“Love you more.”

The doorbell rings, announcing the pizza’s arrival. You reluctantly sit up, pressing the hot water bottle to your stomach as Leon gets up off the sofa and starts to head towards the door.

“Leon.”

“Mm?” He pauses, turning slightly, removing his wallet from his jacket pocket.

“How come you’re still in your suit?”

“Well,” he resumes walking to the door, “I read how endorphins can help with period pain, and I know how happy a certain someone gets when they get to admire my ass in this particular suit…” The wallet slips from his fingers, bounces on the carpeted floor, and he bends down, slowly. “..so what kinda boyfriend would I be to hide it in sweats when they’re feeling poorly?”

--

Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day x

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi

[loveandmurders]

The Sun of Ambrose III (Lost Sinclair!Daughter AU)

Hi everybody, this is the third part of a new Sinclair!daughter AU in which the reader is Bo's daughter and she has been taken away and adopted by a new family. You can find part I here and part II here.

Hope you'll enjoy! <3

Warnings: no proof reading, mentions of suicide and death, mentions of potential abuses, murderous!reader

You found where you thought Ambrose was on a map and you showed it to your dad. You told him about the House of Wax advertisements on the roads too. 

And he left, while you spent time with your mother. 

You couldn’t focus on what she was telling you because you were giddy, like when you were a small child. Giddy, like when you were waiting for your father to come back home so you could greet him by jumping into his embrace. For the first time in years, you were hopeful, you were almost happy. Everything was going to be alright very soon.

After an hour or so, your adoptive father phoned your mother. He said he found Ambrose and found your biological father. He said Bo Sinclair seemed to be quite a decent man, even if the town was quite strange. And more importantly, Bo Sinclair was more than eager to meet his daughter. ASAP. Your mother convinced your father to come back to the hotel so they could have a little chat. Your father agreed and left Ambrose without troubles. He had no idea he was the first man, estranged to the Sinclairs, who had ever been able to leave Ambrose alive since Ambrose became a dangerous ghost town. 

Your adoptive dad was a little bit scared his daughter would pick another father over him, but at the same time he hoped you would know who was loving you the most and the best. He was certain that Bo, even if he was being polite for the moment, probably did something terrible for your biological mother to kill herself like she did. He thought you might remember the abuses you went through and you would understand you needed to cut the Sinclairs from your life… forever.

On the other hand, Bo was losing it with hope and relief. His baby girl was alive. His baby girl was on her way back home. Everything was finally going to be alright again. He wasn’t too sure how he was going to explain to you about the murders and the truth behind the House of Wax, but he was certain you would understand. You weren’t going to be afraid of him, because to you he wasn’t a monster, he was your father. And he loved you more than everything, even more than his dead mother who never loved him back.

Bo had given to your adoptive father a phone number so your parents could call him whenever you all would be ready to come to Ambrose. Bo had invited your parents and yourself for a little family dinner with both your uncles as well. Bo was ready to do absolutely anything to get you back. He had begged both the Devil and God so much for this day to finally come, for his daughter to finally be back home, where she belonged. 

Even if you were a little bit disappointed, you agreed you would enjoy your holiday and on the last day, you would greet the Sinclairs for dinner at Ambrose. You spent some good time with your adoptive parents. Deep down, you knew it would be the last time you would be with them like that. You might not remember Bo very well, you knew he wasn’t going to let you go that easily once he would see you again. You didn’t mind, even if you were concerned about what goodbyes with your adoptive parents were going to look like. 

You thought the end of the week would never come and you realised your excitement even made you forget about your usual need to kill to stay calm and quiet.

After a few days, it was time to go to Ambrose. Your mother was so on edge that she needed to be the one driving, so she could focus on something and calm down. You watched the roads, trying to remember them by heart as your mother drove to your hometown, following your father’s directions. She parked in front of the house, at the end of the town. 

You recognised everything. You recognised how empty the place was, despite the wax statues. You recognised the smell of danger lingering around, you recognised your home. You calmed down for the first time in years. You closed your eyes and leaned into your seat. You were back. Everything was going to be alright again. It had to be. 

Or you would kill everyone, and yourself.

Your parents turned toward you.

“Are you sure it is what you want? We can still leave.” you father said but you shook your head

“I want to be here” you replied

“If you feel like you don’t want to do any of this anymore, you just have to show us the door, okay? And we’ll leave. The most important thing is that you feel safe, okay? We won’t let anything happen to you.” your mother promised and you smiled

“It’s going to be alright, I’m sure of it” you said

“I just want you to keep in mind that your father is probably someone dangerous. It’s both a greeting… and probably a goodbye” she added and her husband nodded

“It’s important to know where you come from, but it’s also important to let go of the past, especially when it is a toxic past” he said and you found yourself nodding. 

You would have agreed to anything as long as it meant going back into your house.

Bo opened the front door to greet the three of you. He tried to play it cool but he was impatient, too impatient to even wait for you to knock at the door. 

He shook hands with your parents before his attention went on you. He looked you up and down and did his best to stay calm. Deep down, he wanted to cry and scream for not having seen his daughter growing up. He was desperate to see how the light in your eyes seemed to have died down. He hated he hadn’t been able to protect you and to find you after your mother left with just a message on the kitchen table saying “Happy Birthday, Bo. This is the day you lost everything”.

Most importantly, he was very excited to see you again. You were so beautiful, so perfect. He was certain you were the smartest as he saw you quickly looking around and taking everything in your surroundings. Vincent could gesture like that too. He tried not to think you were looking like an angel of death, a killer. His baby darling couldn’t be a killer, not yet, not when she had grown up so far away from the corruption of Ambrose.

He came closer to hug you but your parents blocked him. 

“We would be grateful if you wouldn’t touch her… We don’t know what are your intentions toward her” Your mother said and you recognised the pure anger moving through his eyes before disappearing. He gave her his most charming smile and nodded.

The Sinclairs agreed they wouldn’t kill your parents right away. They needed you to say out you were a Sinclair, one of them before that. They needed you to choose them, and they would do anything for that. Even if it meant taking the risk of having your parents around Ambrose several times.

Bo instantly noticed how silent you were and it concerned him.

Your parents and yourself greeted Lester and Vincent as you arrived into the kitchen. Your parents exchanged a look as they noticed Vincent’s mask.

“My brother’s got some scars he’d rather hide behind a mask, don’t worry ‘bout it” Bo explained, trying to not sound too annoyed. 

He was the only one who could judge his brother. He couldn’t stand anyone else looking at his twin as if he was part of a freak show. Your parents apologised and you all settled down.

The silence was deafening, as you looked around the house, taking into everything once again.

Nothing had changed, unlike you. 

Bo and your uncles looked older than when you were a child too, of course. But they didn’t really change. You recognised Lester’s soft light and warmth. He smiled at you with pure kindness. But you could see past it, you could tell that despite the love he still had for you, there was some hidden darkness. An even more dangerous one for Vincent. You recognised his presence right away, you recognised how his silence seemed to be the same one before a storm. He was quietly analysing everything and everyone but you felt at ease, unlike your parents. More importantly, you felt your father’s love for you. You recognised the way he looked at you as if you meant the world to him. You recognised his anger, hidden away inside his heart, like yours. You recognised him in yourself and yourself in him. You were home.

The Sinclairs noticed your necklace.

“Still got that jewel, hmm?” Lester said, trying to chat with you like he used to. You looked up at him as your hand reached for the comforting feeling of the necklace under your fingers. You smiled and nodded before signing:

“Never removed it”

The brothers kept a straight face but panic grew inside of them. Why were you using ASL? Why couldn’t they hear your voice? 

“She said…” your mother started but Bo cut her off:

“We all know ASL here; Vincent is mute. But ya’re not, ain’t ya?” he asked you

“Of course she is, when social care found her, she wasn’t talking” Your mother said as you shrugged

“Did your mother do anythin’ to ya?” Bo asked as he leaned toward you. He had no idea what truly happened, apart from the fact that you got taken away from him “Do ya know where she is now?”

“She took me away, saying she had a gift for you. When we arrived at the social care centre, she killed herself” you replied “I don’t remember much. But I didn’t forget this house” you smiled as you gestured around. You wanted to change the subject, you didn’t want to talk about your mother.

But Bo was too upset about the news. He thought she might have killed herself since the police never came into Ambrose and since he never saw her again. Plus, it was the only option for her to keep you away from him: otherwise he would have had a lead to find you and she didn’t want that. She wanted to punish Bo for the man he was, for the monster everyone could see in him and in his brothers.

“I’m sorry we have not been able to protect ya from her… She was sick, but I never thought she’d take ya away from me, us.” Bo told you “We should’ve done better for ya” he continued, regret lacing his voice.

“We heard you actually were the abusive one and her mother saved her from this place” your mother said. She wasn’t afraid to speak up but she thought that maybe she should have talked about the police or someone before coming here.

“Obviously, we don’t know everything that happened here. Y/N really wanted to come here, but it doesn’t mean we trust any of you with her” your adoptive father continued. It angered the Sinclairs a lot more than they showed it. Bo and Lester hummed and smiled. They didn’t want your legal guardians to be afraid of them, especially when they didn’t know who was aware of your presence in Ambrose.

“I believe my daughter can tell I’ve never hurt her in any way” Bo replied “Y/N had always been very important to me, to us three. I hope ya never forgot this, love” he smiled at you and you smiled back

“I thought you didn’t look for me. I heard a lot of bad things too, because of what mother did and said.”

“I swear we all look for ya, but ya were out of reach and gosh I prayed so much for ya to find your way back home. And ya finally did.” Bo whispered, you could hear the emotions swirling inside his voice. You were still wanted, you were still loved by your father.

“Y/N might have found her way back here… It doesn’t mean she’ll let go of her actual life. She is soon going to go to college after all, in only one year.” your mother said and she was quite proud of you.

“That’s great!” Lester exclaimed, even if Bo wasn’t too glad about this news. Your education was important but it was getting in the way of his plans to get you back.

“What subject are you interested in?” Vincent signed to you

“Medecine” you signed “but I’m also very good in my art classes. So if I fail medical school, I can still be an artist” you said

“But we all know you will be a great doctor, hon” your mother cooed

“Like your grandfather and grandmother then” Bo hummed in approval as well “I knew you’d inherited of the best of everything in the family” he added and you smiled even more “Ya’re the heir of the Sinclair, so I guess that’s normal”

“Y/N isn’t your heir anymore. Do you realise that child care and the State didn’t even know about her before her mother brought her to them? She didn’t exist and thanks to the situation, the administration had been able to fix the issues quite quickly. As a matter of fact, you never recognised her as your daughter, so she can’t be your heir or a Sinclair.” your mother said

“Look, ma’am I’m doin’ my best here for all of us to have a nice dinner, so maybe ya could be nicer as well” Bo said with a look of danger in the eyes

“It’s okay, mom is always protective of me” you signed to calm Bo down. He disliked the fact you recognised her as your mother, because it meant you recognised the other man as your father. He couldn’t stand the idea alone, so the proof you were accepting your adoptive family as your family was unbearable.

“Of course I'm protective of you… especially when we see how dangerous the world can be.”

“Always told that to my daughter” Bo agreed for the first time with your mother

You all stayed silent for a little moment.

“Ambrose sounds very… quiet. At least, it feels like a safe enough place. You see, there is some sort of serial killer murdering people in the city we live in, and around it as well” your adpotive father said, trying to find a new subject of conversation

“We live in a mad world” your mother whined

“A serial killer? And ya didn’t move out? Not even for Y/N's safety?!” Bo asked, he couldn’t help but be worried about your safety. He knew how dangerous people could be indeed. Gosh, he couldn’t wait for you to move back to Ambrose so he would be able to keep an eye on you.

“I’m no prey” you shook your head wich was very thought provoking for the Sinclairs

“What kind of art do you enjoy making?” Vincent asked to change the subject

“Sculpture” you instantly replied and without any hesitation “Speaking of, how is the House of Wax doing?” you asked back

“Oh, you remember it. :) It’s going well.” you could feel Vincent was excited in the way he signed back to you

“I’d like to visit it again. You must have done so many new sculptures since I left.” you replied

“I’m not sure we’ll have time for that, hon” your mother intervened. 

The twins hoped they would soon be able to turn your adoptive parents into wax statues and hide them away in one of the abandoned houses.

You simply nodded in agreement, which annoyed the Sinclairs. As a child, you never agreed with anyone who didn’t want to let you do what you wanted. You were strong minded, you were determined and you were smart. They hated to see you so docile.

Soon enough the dinner was over and the Sinclairs couldn’t force the three of you to stay any longer. You got up with your adoptive parents, as they were getting ready to go. You quickly walked to Bo and hugged him, before anyone could stop you. He hugged you back, as tightly as he could without hurting you, and kissed the top of your head.

“Missed ya” he whispered “So much”

“I’ll be back soon” you signed to him, your back to your parents so they couldn’t read your hands “I promise.”

And with this promise, the Sinclairs let you all go, unharmed, hoping you would keep your words.

They needed their heir.

And more importantly, they needed their sun back.

--

PART IV

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Taglist: @murder-hobo - @lacychick ; @magical-sass ; @limehaspassed ; @loveinglymessedup ; @bloodmoon-bites ; @iwantsleepplz ; @kawaistrawberry21 ; @12gaugefalls ; @kriston1210

[n3kk1tty]

This Fanfic is 18 and up only. It contains mature themes not suited for younger readers.

Sinclair Daughter x Thomas Hewitt

~~~~Sweet Heat~~~~~

Word Count: 7,560

Your father's loved you so dearly. They loved you to a level of extreme that was only amplified after the ambrose accident that led you to this new life. Now that you had a partner this love was a difficult thing to navigate around with your secret desires and Hobbies. To say your father's wanted you to stay pure till the last bell chimes on your wedding night was an understatement. Bo was always glaring down Tommy or telling you to split from each other if he caught you kissing Tommy or hugging too long. While Lester damn near kept you busy to keep you from having any alone time to get into trouble and Vincent tore your bedroom door down when you had shown Tommy your bedroom one day.

You were a grown woman and this habit pissed you off as a teen but now as an adult more capable than your parents at times all it did was make you annoyed. While the boys could have porn mags, flirt with victims, drink and do whatever you had to be miss Mother Teresa. You remember how Bo used to and still does stop you from helping with kills even though you're effective at it. You snap the neck of your designated meat rabbit placing its body in the pile next to you as you fume in your shed. I mean even the Hewitts at this rate we're joining in your father's over bearing nature. Luda Mae always tells Tommy to behave and to wait for your wedding night while Hoyt was a pervert who teased you constantly making you madder than hell. Your perfect mask was falling off your face day by day as your urges grew.

You start butchering your pile utilizing every last piece of your little friends as you could trying to calm yourself. You loved Thomas Hewitt more than anything in the world and you had been dating for six months now. What you could not stand was the purity culture swarming you everyday at home. How could you keep yourself off of that sweet muscular man. He was so easy to rile up to but everyone kept getting in your goddamn way. You hid porn mags and such in Tommy's room to give him ideas and a basic sex ED, you hid condoms everywhere in case something happened. You even went so far as to corner Tommy alone as much as you could but it never worked. Either your father's or the Hewitts got in the way of your needs and you couldn't take it anymore.

That night you had to get away to your hiding place. You had a burning need in yourself and if you didn't have your urges satisfied soon you were gonna strip your boyfriend bare in the Texas open dirt roads and jump his fucking bones there. That or you were going to tie your father's upside down by there toes. Sliding open your window you make work to climb out onto the roof carefully before sliding down the support beams of the house before running off into the dark. You couldn't use your flashlight or make much noise till you made it to where you stashed your dirt bike. It was something you picked up with extra money you made at the farmers market. You knew your dad's would kill you if they found out you had one or what you liked to do in your free time so what was the point in showing them.

You couldn't show Tommy neither even though you loved him mostly because the boy treated you like you were glass but nothing was faster through the county fields then your dirt bike and oh boy was it fun to ride. Your father's may have wanted you to be mother Mary incarnate but really what girl raised by murderers isn't gonna be wild. Back in Louisiana you lived a whole double life. Sneaking out, switching out of dresses made from your Dad Vincent into rock t-shirts and short shorts. Hell sometimes just to beat the heat running around in your shorts and a bikini top. You had a dirt bike back home you stole from a victim and it was so fun to ride when you moved to Texas you just had to get one to ride the dirt trails.

You couldn't let your dad's catching you like this though. If Bo knew you got a tattoo behind his back he'd tan your hide into next week I mean you've been hiding it since you were a teen but he still would. You smile as you ride away to your hiding spot remembering your teenage years fondly as you jump dirt hills hollering in joy. Sneaking off on weekends when victims stopped by to go hangout with your friends a town over. Drinking, smoking weed, listening to rock music and the occasional hook up while horror movies played in the background. You were a real switch up and I mean you still were hiding your wild side from everyone in hopes to keep up with the sweet southern girl aesthetic so you could stay with Tommy. You pull up to the run down house parking your bike before looking over the little river and old farm house in the moonlight. You hoped when you and Tommy got married you two could take over this little home.

You had been working on this house you found for your future with him but you knew you couldn't tell anyone. Especially not with all the shit you were hiding that you either stole from victims or bought with your own cash. The little room with a window AC, TV, and all your precious contraband. Slipping on your band shirt you look over your porn movies trying to see what one you should pop in tonight. Hell you probably just gonna pop in a horror movie instead and just sit back with rock music blaring you were so pissed off. Pulling out your stash of weed from the recent victim Ludae Mae had butchered which had just happened to disappear. You smile, flicking your lighter to your blunt as you feel your worries float away. 

Maybe Tommy would still love you even knowing you weren't the perfect girl everyone thought you were. You knew your dads would kill you though. Mostly for the smoking, drinking, and tattoo because they didn't want their little girl ruined. Bo hated the idea of you having sex and you knew it as he refused to give you the sex ED talk yelling at you constantly no boys and to stay pure. Poor Vincent had to hand you sexual education books and repeatedly told you not till marriage. Lester told the twins when he caught a boy flirting with you when he went to pick you up from school. Had to have a big fight about letting you stay in highschool after that one. You let out a puff watching the screen on your bean bag chair as you thought. You always presented yourself as the perfect daughter / future wife. Cooking, cleaning, being polite and helpful.

You even praised God and dressed the way you knew your dad's would be approve. Guess you had plans originally to go out in the big world on your own like a real rockstar and now here you were a boyfriend and pretending to be someone you weren't. You grab a throwing knife next to you, throwing them at the poster on the wall.  Everyone else got to go killing doing what they wanted but you were stuck in the kitchen with Ludae Mae. You loved the woman but how would she react to how you were right now. Slumped down in a chair smoking away as you tossed knives with terrifying accuracy while heavy metal blasted in the background. You just didn't want to hurt Tommy. Didn't want him to stop loving you but you couldn't bare this lie anymore. 

You hadn't even realized you passed out on the bed by accident till the afternoon sun finally woke you up. All those early mornings to pack Lester's lunch and cook him breakfast caught up to you. What would you do? Tommy usually stopped by in the morning to see you and you were nowhere to be found by anyone. You couldn't show up in last night's dress, you'd be found out as you never wore the same dress two days in a row. You panicked rushing out the room like the devil was on your heels. Throwing on your climbing boots before forgetting you had contraband on you. It would take a hell of a day to explain but maybe you could sneak back in before getting caught. Hell maybe your dad's just thought you were sick or already left. Fuck! It wasn't farmers market day and your truck was still there. 

You sped on your dirt bike over the rough Texas terrain hoping you'd be able to explain yourself somehow. Didn't take long to get back but sneaking in was sure gonna be tricky. You hid your beloved bike in its usual spot before army crawling through the long grass. Infiltration was gonna be tough especially if you had everyone searching for you. Being spotted in your outfit now and realizing you still had a hunting knife and blunt on you, it felt like you were fucking Rambo sneaking on to your own property. You made it to the shed not having to fight any snakes in the way. You could hear your father Bo on the porch cussing up a storm to where you could be sending Thomas to find you. 

Damnit the Hewitts excuse was compromised and so was the sneaking back into your room. Bo didn't like busting into your room but he would if he thought he needed to. You manage to shift a panel and squeeze into your shed without anyone noticing you entering into the small wooden building. You begin stripping down to your underwear rummaging through the little building for your emergency clothes. You didn't even notice the door opening or closing as a tall silent figure stood in shock at the sight. Thomas stood absolutely still looking at the sight in front of him. He had been in a panic all morning searching for you with Bo and Vincent as they couldn't find you in your room. 

You hadn't come down and made breakfast so they thought you were sick as you always wrote notes if you were leaving to town. When Vincent looked though the front window your truck was still there. Maybe you had gone to the Hewitts by foot with Tommy, you had been doing that recently even if they didn't like it. Nope, Tommy showed up with flowers for you like every morning but no you in site. You weren't spotted or heard of from for hours and as a last ditch effort Tommy went up to check the shed you processed and raised your rabbits and chickens in. What did he see when he opened the door. His beloved girlfriend standing in nothing but her undergarments searching through boxes frustrated mumbling with strange outfit next to her.

The boy didn't know what to do but silently stood there breathing as he took in every curve of you. Your soft skin glowing as excitement replaced worry in his body each time you bent over a plump ass practically being shoved in his face. Thomas couldn't stop himself as his curious lustful eyes bathed over your form, taking special notice of the artwork on the side of your ribcage. Tommy didn't know you had a tattoo but something about it aroused him. You never even mentioned it then again he never saw you this undressed. He lumbered over to you gently grabbing your sides to help you reach the top shelf as he pressed his body against yours. This kind gesture was met with a yelp and almost a knife in his face from his beloved.

“ Jesus Christ Tommy I almost took your eye out. You have to knock first before surprising a girl. “ Your heart raced in your chest as you hopped back on the bench trying to push your hunting knife away not realizing how exposed you are. Thomas of course signed to you his complaints. “ We couldn't find you. Where have you been? Why are you so bare? “ Your face warms as a slight embarrassment overwhelms you before a devilish idea crosses your mind. You didn't want to lie to Tommy anymore and if you wanted to take it to the next level you could right now but first was to try covering your ass before your dads found out. “ Well I could tell you the truth but it may ruin my surprise for you. “ You trace your fingers along Tommy's chest as you hook your legs around his waist pulling him in. You could immediately feel his length growing against you straining in his pants as you pulled his face in dangerously close.

Oh you were playing with fire but this was the exact moment you were waiting for. “ Truth? Surprise?” Thomas sloppily signed as you kissed at his face rubbing your hands along his chest making it hard for him to think or question what he's discovered apon. “ Do you love me Thomas Hewitt? “ The giant man shook his head pushing his body further against you on the desk trying to gain more friction. “ Will you love me no matter what my secrets maybe?” Your hands somewhat shake as you lace your hands in his hair whispering into his ear. The man makes an agreeing noise back grabbing your body in close, whining at you to push things further. You desperately want to but you can hear Bo shouting outside getting louder.

You pull Tommy in quick whispering into his ear, exciting him. “ Tell them I was hunting that fox that keeps getting in the coup and I got some blood on my clothes if they question you. Then later me and you can continue this my love. Can you go fetch me new clothes now Tommy? “ You place a big kiss to his face, mumbling you love him before shooing him out the shed before popping your head out to scream at your father. “ Will you stop screaming dad your gonna wake the dead! “ Bo and Vincent run towards the shed as Tommy runs off to fetch you a new outfit. You keep just your head out and refuse to open the door. “ And where have you been young lady! You've been missing since before the sun's been up. “ Bo trys pushing on the door but you fuss at him. “ Unless you wanna see your grown daughter bare as the day I was born you better not open this door. I was out chasing damn foxes in the coups again. “

The pair stop getting flustered before questioning you. “ And why would you not make breakfast and why are you naked in there? You and Thomas better have not been fooling around before marriage. I'm not above putting holes in him. “ Bo practically growls as you stand your ground. “ We were worried. “ Vincent signs. “ I chased that thing pretty far out. I was gonna make breakfast but saw something in the coup again. Then while chasing it I got blood and dirt all over my dress. By the time I came home I fell asleep at my bench and didn't realize I forgot to put my spares back in the shed. “ Vincent seems worried at the falling asleep portion of the story but Bo is standing his ground at the fact he just saw Thomas run outta the shed like his ass was on fire.

“ And what about that boy running out of this shed like the devil was on his tail. He didn't see you naked did he? You two weren't fooling around were you. “ You whistle to yourself as Bo gets angry before you push on the door again stopping him from entering. “ Not like I wanted to get seen in the nude before my wedding night. Someone was screaming at him to find me and we'll he busted in while I was trying to find my spares so for your information dad my dear boyfriend did see me in my bra and panties but I don't think gods gonna smite us for an accident. “ Bo is seeing red as his face heats up as Vincent as well he is getting flustered and angry.

Before the two run off to skewer poor Tommy your lovely boyfriend shows up flustered as can be trying to pass a sundress to you. The two fathers glare him down, yanking it from him before they hand it to you as you shimmy into it before opening the door confidently. You smack Bo and Vincent in their sides as you walk off into the house. “ Would you two stop trying to murder my boyfriend? There's only one way Luda Mae is getting grandchildren and it ain't gonna be no stork. I've cleaned enough of your porn mags up to know you two aren't saints dads. “ The two look away embarrassed to be so confidently called out in their perverted nature by their precious daughter.

“ We can't help, we want to keep you as our little girl forever. “ Vincent signs following you into the kitchen as you prepare lunch. “ I'm 25 dad. I'm a healthy woman with working reproductive systems. Y'all may not wanna hear it but when a man and a woman love eachother very mu-” Vincent throws his hands up covering your mouth as you continue on your rant while Bo plugs his ears and Thomas looks away in embarrassment. “ You know what, me and Tommy are going on a much needed date alone tonight and I'm not hearing protest from no one. I can't marry him if I never get alone time with him and I deserve personal space without my father's being in it. “ Bo gets up to demand to be able to spy on you to but you wave a kitchen knife in his face.

“ I said I'm going on my date! I am your daughter, I got your temper and you know it. Now unless you wanna be cooking your own meals and cleaning for a month.” Bo freezes in his place, he knew damn well you would do it. He and his brothers have been pampered since their little girl took up cooking and even doing the daily chores without complaint. It could be worse because Bo remembers when you were a teenager and you two got into a nasty fight and he was still eating stuff in the fridge you cooked for Lester and Vincent after saying you weren't cooking for him. You had set a decoy out for him and put laxatives in the pie you made and he spent the whole day praying to the porcelain throne. Bo stiffens up before huffing out a fine and taking his plate of food from you. “ You didn't put any laxatives in this to prove a point. “

Bo says as he stands in the door of the kitchen thinking of a way to spy on you. “ Don't give me any reason to. “ The man stiffens before sauntering off to go scheme while Vincent nervously eats his plate with Thomas and you at the table. After you finish cleaning the dishes from lunch and getting dinner ready for the oven you pull Thomas in close knowing damn well Vincent and Bo weren't gonna let you off the hook that easily. “ Tommy honey I need you to go outside to the shed and get my things, take them to the truck and get inside. I'll be out shortly. “ Thomas signs to you where Vincent couldn't possibly see. ‘ What will you do? ‘ You kiss the man on the face before sending him off on his task just answering him back with a smile.

You knew Bo called Hoyt earlier to talk about your date and that even if you tried to get privacy they would still follow you. There was only one place in Travis county where neither family could interfere easily and you knew it. May be hard to get Tommy and you out there at this rate but if you played it smart you could buy you some time. You were able to snag Bo’s keys while cleaning and I mean kicking his keys under the couch wasn't so hard since you usually kept them up on the key rack since your father's except for Lester couldn't be bothered to keep track. Speaking of which you called Lester earlier to see when he'd be home so you had a small window to get the hell out of Dodge. As you were doing your finishing touches Bo stopped you as you stood by the towel closet.

“ Did you really chase an animal out the coup again this morning? I went out to check and all your creatures look fine to me. ‘cept some digging at the bottom “ You freeze knowing that this could be the moment you get caught with your scheming and double life but you think for a moment before answering your beloved father. “ I'd have no other reason to be running out in the crack of dawn in the dark unless you're saying I'm chasing shadows. Maybe if we got a guard dog like I wanted I wouldn't be passing out in the shed exhausted from chasing pests. “ Bo sighs, patting your head before straightening out his back. “ We got Jonesy, she's a guard dog. “ You laugh at your father's mentioning of Lester's beloved pooch. “ Dad, pretty sure Jonesey counts more as a sausage link then a livestock dog. “

The rough man lets out a genuine chuckle as he shakes his head in agreement. “ Yeah probably should tell Vincent and Lester to stop feeding her table scraps. “ You give a raised eyebrow as he sighs. “ We all should stop giving her table scraps. “ You smile as you laugh with your father before trying to sneak away. “ Hey. Don't go making me grandfather just yet. I was barely ready to be your father.” You smile to Bo before telling him you weren't and that you were going to finish a chore before heading out. Your plan was in motion as you ran off the porch practically jumping through the trucks window to start it before your fathers could follow or protest. Speeding out the drive way as you catch Vincent running to the porch to spot your truck hauling ass off to who knows where.

The twins knew you were going on a date and they figured it would be at the house but now that your car was hauling away in your truck the pair got immediately upset. That Hewitt boy alone with their daughter without the families around only spelt something mischievous going on for the boys. Immediately Bo was yelling for Vincent's to get the keys only to find they weren't on the key rack. None of the pair's keys were Vincent pieces together exactly what their sneaky daughter had been doing earlier when she went to clean up before leaving. Bo runs to his room to grab his gun. He was pissed but what did he find when he opened his gun case. No fucking gun that was sure. Your sneaky ass had hid all the guns in the house and the keys. “ That little shit swindled all our shit from under our noses. I'm fucking calling Hoyt to stop em. “

You laughed loudly as you headed down the dirt road towards your destination. “ Tommy I know this may be hard to believe but I haven't always been the beacon of innocence y'all may think I am and if we're gonna take our relationship further I think at least you get to see the real me. “ The man tilts his head. ‘ I love you. Just you. ‘ You smile to him as you make note of the beat up cop car chasing behind you. “ Hey Tommy Hun you don't happen to like rock music do you? “ Thomas shakes his head in confusion. ‘ Haven't listened before. Mama doesn't like. ‘ This causes you to chuckle. “ Well there's two secrets of mine you can know. Hold on darlin I gotta get Hoyt off our tail. “ Tommy panics at this as his anxiety creeps in with the rock music now blaring on the stereo.

You look for an opening in the fencing along the road before you spot one and take off into the dried out landscape around you. The house you hung out at the road was overgrown anyway so taking a little short cut won't hurt. Thomas grabs onto the door handle for dear life as the car starts rattling on the rough terrain rock music blaring in the background as you outrun Hoyts dinky cop car before it inevitably gets stuck on the rough terrain. “ Well that should buy us the night. Wonder how long it will take them to find their car keys under the couch..” Thomas looks at you bewildered, mumbling out noises in protest but you look at him smiling and he can't bring himself to continue. It doesn't take you long to finally make it to your hideout.

Taking measures to hide the truck in the old garage just in case they find their keys early or Lester gets back. ‘ We're in trouble. ‘ Tommy signs as you open up his side of the truck for him as he frowns at you. “ Probably but sometimes you have to stir up trouble to get what you want. “ You try to saunter off but your masked boyfriend picks you up, trapping you. ‘ go back now. ‘ You frown at this statement from him there was no way you were going home now. You didn't care how much trouble you were in. You had been good for far too long doing what everyone said it was time for you to be selfish. “ I'm not going back Tommy. I came here to get alone time with you. “ The man freezes contemplating what he should do before you start rubbing on his shoulders like earlier in the shed.

Soft doe like eyes pleading with him to stay as he tries to remain firm on his stance of going back but the minute your warm hand touches his cheek fiddling with his hair it was all over. He let's out a sigh as he gives in to your demands and you explode with glee peppering him with kisses and telling him how much you loved him. Thomas couldn't say no to his future wife. He wasn't used to being so openly loved and cared for and you were never afraid to tell him how you felt or to give him such affection. You were his angel on earth and if his angel was leading him into trouble he'd gladly follow. The Texas heat was still very much in the air as the evening sun still hung in the sky. You showed Tommy around the property you had been working on excitedly telling him about the coup and the rooms how you were excited for your future with him.

The boy felt like he was walking on air as he could imagine a life with you while you ran around the building showing him everything. Thomas may not have looked it but he to was getting fed up with the family's needs to butt in. Those strange magazines in his room gave him many wicked ideas and it was getting harder for him to keep his hands off you every time you peppered kisses to his face or hands lingered a little to long on his chest. You finally got out to the little lake running down the porch steps to show him excitedly. The man smiled as he looked at you showing him it before you got the most wicked idea. Before the man could figure out what you were doing you were throwing your shoes off and tossing your sundress to the side. Running down the old boat dock telling Tommy to catch you before you jumped in just in your underwear and bra.

The man stood there whining and fussing at the edge of the dock as he tried to grab you but you just splashed him in retaliation. “ Come on honey the water is nice and cold. If you can't swim the water over here isn't too deep. “ The man takes another try to grab you but you duck under the water swimming away before floating on your back to tease him with your scantily clad form. It takes awhile of coaxing and praise but Thomas finally strips down to his boxers and wades his way in the water so you can take off his mask for him. He's very hesitant about you doing that for him but it wasn't the first time you've taken his mask off. Usually you do it to wipe his face and get him embarrassed but right now all you wanted to do was sit in the cold water with your lover telling him how handsome he was.

Mask off and nothing but the thinnest layer of clothes separating you two as Tommy refuses to let go of your wet form. Gentle kisses and praise flow from your mouth as you just can't stop grabbing at him, whining and noises of content come from your strong lover as it's just you two loving on each other under the Texas sky in the cold body of water. You swear you haven't had a moment alone with each other since the day he asked you to be his girlfriend but now that you finally did get alone time you both would gladly get into trouble again to have it. You tried to teach Tommy how to swim a bit but all you could accomplish tonight was teaching him how to float on his back, you couldn't stop laughing at his red face each time he'd float up with his body exposed trying to cover himself.

By the time the sun started to set you were sneezing up a storm from your little adventure in the water. Thomas sprinted out of the water dragging you along with him in his arms, completely forgetting your clothes behind in the grass as your sneezes concerned him. You were small compared to him. He was scared you were sick from the cold water so he was trying to strip you of your wet clothes and warm you up with a towel in the abandoned house. By the time his worry washed away and the realization hit him what he was doing you were under Tommy in just a towel with his body hovering over you in his boxers. He trys to shoot backwards but you hook your legs and arms around him pulling him in so he can't escape. “ I never told you to stop Tommy. I'm okay with it. Why don't we continue if you want to darlin. “ His breathe hitches before he's nervously crawling further on top of you so scared of what to do next but definitely wanting to continue forward as he presses his face into yours eyes begging for you.

You gently laugh grabbing his face into a gentle kiss which Tommy greedily pushes further into excitement and eagerness growing. You were always so gentle and loving with him your kisses were like honey and he was desperately trying to to taste more. Your hands lace into his damp hair trying to push back to catch a breath but he just kept pushing forward eagerly. You have to completely turn your head to the side to get away to catch your breath leaving a excited Tommy leaning against you whining his member straining in his soaked boxers. “ Honey it's not fair if I'm the only one naked here. “ He instantly gets the message and anxiously goes to pull off his soaked boxers sitting on the bed his hard member exposed to the air precum already dribbling at his red tip.

You gently place your hands on his chest getting your lover to lie back for you as your hand finds its way to his cock. Tommy jumps a bit when he feels your hand wrap around his girth anxiety and excitement mixing. His cock wasn't the lengthiest you've ever seen but my god was it as thick as the rest of him and ready to destroy you if you weren't careful so even if you were excited to get to the main course a warm up was in store. “ Why don't we get warmed up sweetheart. I know you're excited for your first time but if I'm not prepped you may hurt me. “ You flip around to straddle yourself above Tommy's mouth his glazed over eyes staring at your soaking cunt as you feel his breathe eagerly fan over your folds. “ Why don't you use your tongue Tommy and get me ready for you while I take care of you Hun. “

Thomas paused for a minute taking in the sight of your sex before his hands found either side of your ass gripping you tight as he dived right in like a man starved. You yelp at the base of his cock as Tommy leaned himself against the wall dragging you with him as he crudely propped you up so he had better access. His cock throbbed against the side of your cheek as your face was buried in his wild mess of hair around his member by the sudden movement. Your nose filled with his musky and electricity tingled your core as Tommy went at you like a beast, you couldn't help letting out a moan. Propping yourself up the best you could, you kissed along his length mapping his cock with your lips before dragging your tongue from the base to his tip.

As soon as your tongue lapped across his tip Tommy was growling into your cunt hands gripping harder pushing his tongue deeper into exploring your core. Getting your mouth completely around his member was a challenge as you had to fight against Tommy wildly bucking his hips up into your mouth while trying to adjust your throat to his thickness, almost gagging in the process. Eventually you find a rhythm of keeping yourself breathing and not gagging as Thomas practically face fucked you while devouring your cunt until you came on his face repeatedly. You couldn't fight back as you saw stars as Tommy relentlessly licked and sucked at your folds hunting for every last drop of your fluids he could get before he shot thick ropes of cum into your throat like you were nothing but a doll.

Pulling away for air you sucked in as much as you could get pulling yourself from a pussy drunk Tommy. “ Aw you released it all down my throat. Guess we will have to wait for round two Hun. “ Thomas grabs your legs pulling you roughly under him again placing wet sloppy kisses to your face as a low growl comes from his throat and you watch his cock harden again quickly. A laugh escapes your lips as you place a kiss to your lover instantly softening the man's demeanor from intimidating man to whining mess. “ Don't worry Tommy we can go round two. So eager.” You put a long kiss on his cheek. “ So cute. “ You pull out a pack of condoms from under the bed thankful you were smart enough to stash a bunch anywhere you thought sexual activities may occur.

‘ what's that?’ Tommy signs laying beside you playing with your tits as you figure out which condom size would be most comfortable for your lover before deciding a large may just be able to handle his girth. “ It's called a condom Tommy prevents babies before marriage. “ You let Tommy look at the box and open one of them looking at it fiddling with it before his body jolts when you slide one on him. Giving him a few strokes and pouring a hefty amount of lube on you straddle above Tommy preparing to slide yourself on his cock praying that you can walk after this. You sink down slowly feeling yourself stretch around his length as Tommy whines into your shoulder wanting to jerk upwards into you but you growl into his ear.

“ Be a good boy and be patient. I only reward obedient boys. “ Hips colliding with Tommy's you feel his cock fill you completely stretching you to the most you've ever had you kiss at your lovers face telling him how good he feels and how good he is for you. You start bouncing on his cock slowly amping up the speed but you feel Tommys cock thumping inside you as he grunts holding your thighs down as he cums. Thank goodness you had him service you before getting to the main event or you'd be a heavily disappointed woman. You let out a sigh preparing to pull yourself off for the night and just work with your boyfriend later about cumming to quickly but Thomas grabs your hips forcing you down.

He grunts into your ear bucking up into your core making you let out a moan. Tommy takes this as a sign of encouragement and starts ruthlessly bouncing you on his cock lifting your hips up and slamming you back down like you weighed nothing as he grunted and groaned into your shoulder loosing himself in the pleasure. All you could do was moan and desperately cling into his shoulders as he stretches you with out mercy moans and grunts filling the room as erotic squelching noises can be heard from your sexes meeting. Your pussy slickening his cock with your juices as you eventually come undo on his cock before Thomas is pushing you down on the mattress with his full weight pressing his cock in deep into your core. He falls over onto you sweaty bodies clinging together after a such a carnal release.

You look outside to see the sky is dark and the stars are up. “ If we don't get home soon we will really be in trouble.” You try prying Tommy off of you but he grunts in response refusing to let you go. ‘ No ‘ You sigh as you grab his hand, closing it into a fist and forcing him to sign yes which he grunts to. “ Yes. Tommy I know neither of us wanna go to bed alone tonight but my dad's gonna dish a punishment out on me either way and Luda Mae may kill me. “ He lifts his head, staring at you for a second before signing no again and rolling over with you tucked into his chest. A content hum came from him as he placed a soft kiss on your head rubbing your shoulders with his rough calloused hands. You stay like this for a while deciding that if you were to get in trouble that Tommy would keep you safe no matter what if need be.

Eventually you convince the man that it was best to head back just to not cause panic for the old woman who always rooted for your relationship as you had called her earlier in the day to vent your problems of never getting alone time with Tommy. You were able to convince her that it would be good for your young relationship to be able to have alone time together she was the one who sent Hoyt out in his car to go get stuck. With reluctance and a lot of kisses and promises of future perverted endeavors you headed back to home. Though you can't really walk that well with a bow legged stance and limp. Still walking on cloud nine you decide it will be best to have Tommy finally figure out how to drive.

“ That will be our story, we will stick with it. Now that we're on the main road it will be easier.” You kick back in the passenger seat motioning for Thomas to start the car which he anxiously starts up. It took a while to get back but when you finally pulled into the driveway with Thomas anxiously stepping out the car Luda Mae sat on the porch with Vincent as Hoyt and Bo sat besides the pair playing cards. “ There's our eloping love birds. Did you two assholes know it's sundown?” Bo said standing firm as Thomas helped you out the car motioning to the starry sky Hoyt following behind him. “ It took us till Lester got home to get my cop car out the damn ditch what were y'all thinking. “ The pair come to circle around you but Thomas blocks you with his body being extra protective. “ We went house hunting, did some swimming, and I taught Tommy how to drive so that's what took us the most time. “

“ House hunting? “ Luda Mae says standing up from the porch swing were her and Vincent were crocheting. “ Well yes. We wanted to find a house between the two families for when we start our own family. Extra big so all the grandbabies. Sadly the one house was off the roads so we had to off road to get to it. Didn't know we were being followed. “ The men turn to each other trying to make a come back while Luda Mae eyes them down. “ Well you hid our keys and guns young lady don't think you can talk yourself out of that one. “ You raised your eyebrow to the man smiling at your father as you were good at lieing your way outta things. “ Hide your keys? You mean I didn't pick your keys up didn't have time to I was prepping dinner for you. And your gun I did hide because you threatened to put a hole in Tommy for accidentally seeing me in my underwear earlier. I was scared you'd actually do it. “

Luda Mae smacks both the mens arms as Bo glares at you not knowing if you were lying or not. “ If you didn't hide them then were are they! And where is my gun? “ You walk past your father smiling up to him knowing he couldn't do much punishing with no proof. “ Guns in the towel closet up stairs and your keys last saw them on the table so Jonesey may have knocked them under the couch with her tail again. “ Bo turns around following you inside as you motion towards the couch. Vincent signing to you while Bo and Hoyt have Tommy help them move the couch. ‘ I’m upset with you still. I know you hid the keys and planned the car getting stuck. Why?’ You turn to your father both of your hands signing fast as you to have a conversation between you. You and Vincent were always close while you and Bo butt heads Vincent could keep secrets Lester couldn't.

“I’m an adult. I feel like you three are smothering me sometimes. Like if I try spreading my wings or change I'll hurt you. “ Vincent shakes his head signing back as the three men fish the things out from under the couch. ‘ I know about the rock music and biking. What is it I don't know. This isn't fair we share secrets. You are an adult but you're still my child.’  You huff, shaking your head as you pull Vincent around so Bo can't see what you're saying. “ I love you, but I love Thomas too. I love him so much I want to be with him. I can't be his wife if I can't be alone with him. I deserve to be happy and be loved to.“ Vincent sighs, shaking his head in agreement reluctantly before pulling you in for a hug patting your back. He didn't like having to give his little girl away but Thomas wasn't a bad man to give you to. Bo lifts his keys up laughing with Hoyt as they turn to you and Vincent. 

“ Tch. Fine I guess we can finally give her what we sent Lester to get earlier. “ Bo comes over patting your head as you surprise him, pulling him into the hug to which he let's out a grunt. Bo pulls you in ruffling your hair and placing a kiss to your head as he holds you real close. “ Next time don't be a little shit when we're tryna be nice. I know your our kid but you ain't gotta act so much like me. “ With this Lester finally comes into the room with Jonesy holding a small pup in his arms. “ We know you kept asking for one for your critters. Got this little girl for you don't know how good she'll be but here yah go baby girl. “ The rest of the night was spent playing with you and Thomas's new pup as you tried to figure a name out while dodging prodding questions and perverted jabs from Hoyt and Luda Mae. The puppy may not have been a child but you to were sure you weren't gonna have trouble in the future making some. 

If you enjoy and want more Sinclair Daughter fics let me know. Requests are also open for fanfic ideas I write for slashers and horror villains.

[toescratches]

The Sinclair brothers have work to do. A couple of tourists adventure into town. But unfortunately after they've been hunted down and cleaned up, the brothers come across more work and more problems. That being the now abandoned baby in the car.

Tw: Blood and gore(they kill obv), Bo is Bo, Vincent mentioned, Lester mentioned, they're slashers what do you expect, they won't kill the baby obv, the baby is a girl or AFAB

—————————————————————————

Bo looked out of the window as he sipped his morning coffee. Lester had just called and told him about the pair of tourists that he had guided to the town. He squinted and looked down the hill at the truck. The couple steps out of the car and looks around their surroundings.

He places his mug down on the table and steps back from the window. Lester has done his part. Now will be Bo, then Vincent...

Bo scoffs at the thought but picks up his cap and walks out of the house. He begins his way down the hill and towards the oblivious victims.

—————————————————————————

Bo peeked around the corner as the tourists walk around the ghost town. He has done this dozens of times, he knows what he is doing... But he still feels a tiny bit of hesitation. Why?

He wonders but quickly gathers himself and walks over to the wandering couple.

"Hello folks! What are y'all doing here?" He says with a strong southern accent.

The couple turns around. The woman slightly flinches at the sudden sounds of the strange man, but the husband only wipes away sweat from his forehead and speaks.

"Heya... We were looking for a gas station... You know where one would be?" The man asks from Bo with a heavy breathe from the heat. The woman stays behind him and looks at Bo with a confused and alert look.

"Of course! I'm the mechanic of the town. What do y'all need help with?" Bo asks with a forced chuckle.

The man gulps and nods. The heat is getting to him and the woman sways around with impatientancy. "Yeah umm... I think we blew a tire. Would've taken care of it by myself but we don't have a spare... Think you could be of assistance?" The tourist groans.

"Might need some gas too..." He sighs under his breath with his hands on his hips.

"I can do that. Just follow me. The gas station is just around the corner!" Bo crosses his arms and lets out a forced smile. After his words he slowly walks past the pair and makes his way towards the station.

The tourists look at each other for a moment and make eye contact. The woman shrugs and the man sighs in response. Soon the man follows Bo as his wife walks back to the car, ready to drive it to the station.

—————————————————————————

As soon as the pair of men step inside the gas station, Bo takes a screwdriver and easily stabs the mans neck. The attacker covers his victims mouth and gently moves the bleeding man to lay on the cement floor. Bo slightly pants as he looks down at the victim bleeding to death.

He sighs and pulls the screwdriver out in order to make the bleeding even worse. It's not even useful since the tourist is long gone...

The sounds of the truck pulling up to the station make Bo quickly turn around and look out of the see through door. He huffs in annoyance and slowly walks out of the station.

The woman hops out of the drivers seat and steps towards the mechanic at the door. She stills in her steps, a couple of meters away from the strange man. "Ummm... Where is my husband?" She asks with confusion and slight awkwardness.

"He's inside, looking at my products... Need any help with the car or would you like to go inside...? It's pretty hot out here..." He chuckles as he holds the bloodied screwdriver behind his back.

The woman sighs as she thinks over and looks back at the truck behind her.

She turns back around to look at the man in front of her. "Let's go inside." She akwardly chuckles.

Bo nods and steps aside from the door to make a way for the woman.

She smiles and walks to the door.

The tourist walks inside the station with the murderer behind her...

Bo notices her movements slowly coming to a stop. She freezes at the sight of her husband dead on the floor and his blood covering the ground.

She gasps and Bo quickly takes couple of steps forward and wraps his arms around the woman. She screams but Bo covers her mouth. She lets out muffled screams and protests as Bo holds her in her place.

The attacker lets out a annoyed and frustrated sigh and roughly pushes the woman to the ground. She violently hits the ground and Bo moves after her. Before she can even act, Bo has stabbed her neck as well.

She gurgles as she bleeds from her neck. Bo pulls the screwdriver out of her neck vein and the blood pools on the floor with a fast pace. She gurgles on the blood and struggles around in pain. Bo stares down at her with a hard gaze. She stares into his eyes as she takes her last breath and gives up. Her body stills but the blood keeps flowing out.

Bo tiredly sighs and stands up from the cold body.

He looks down at the mess around himself and huffs in annoyance. He needs a smoke.

Without a second thought he walks out of the station and for the truck outside. Bo walks for the passenger side door and roughly opens it. He begins to search around and toss stuff from his way as he looks for a pack.

As he digs around the front seats he suddenly hears a whimper from the backseat. With worry and shock Bo slowly turns his head and looks at the backseat.

And there it is. A baby in it's safety seat.

Bo's mouth is open with shock and confusion. He has frozen in his spot as he just stares at the little passenger. Before he can even think, he acts and moves over to the baby. Bo unbuckles the young child and picks her up. She cooes at the man holding her. Bo doesn't speak but moves with difficulty as he climbs out of the car and stands outside of it with the baby in his arms.

What is he supposed to do now?

He doesn't know. Bo feels large amount of confusion and slight panic.

Bo keep his "distance" from the baby, as much as possible as that is since he's holding it. The look on his face is one of confusion, panic and struggle. What the hell is he supposed to do?

Bo looks around, as if he's waiting for something, for someone, but all he gets is more of the cooing sounds from the child in his arms.

Bo looks back at the baby and he keeps breathing heavily. The baby only stares. Stupid kid, expecting something. Bo thinks and furrows his brows as he turns to look at the museum up the hill. Screw this. Vince can handle it. He scoffs and places the baby back into it's safety seat. Bo struggles but eventually figures out how to get the seat belt off the safety seat. He lifts the carrier with the baby in it and begins his way towards the House of Wax.

—————————————————————————

finally had the energy to finish at least the first part.

PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU WANT PT2!

i need ideas so please comment and criticism is appreciated

at first I started this story on my other acco but didn't like it (and it was my first work) so i decided to write it again with my other acco(this one)

i have daddy issues that's why this exists

[small-sinclair]

Broken Reflection

Whumptober 5: Sunburn

Dad!Bo Sinclair x daughter/child!reader (5-6 years old)

Tw: yelling, Bo being a bit aggressive, soft ending

Healing Salve

“I told you over and over to stay away from Vincent’s wax melter!” He snaps, his anger building up. “You have any idea how stupid you are? Any clue?”

You could hear him yelling from the stairs as he came up to the bathroom where you were. You were shaking as you tried to put aloe on your burns, but tears stung your eyes and made it blur. You didn’t mean to be that close to the wax melter; you just wanted to look inside it! How were you supposed to know that was hot to touch and could burn you when you rested your arm against the metal? How are you supposed to learn if you never try it? Bo told you time and time, over and over, not to go into Vincent’s workspace without him, but you were curios today and went down in secret. You always wanted to see what it looked like on the inside, so who was Bo to be mad at because he never told you?

“Answer me!” His shouts, his hand hitting the door, causing you jump. “You’re just as stupid as your mother! Didn’t know how to listen to a simple thing... are you dumb or something?” You tried not to flinch when he yelled, but your shoulder jerked and tensed as he yelled, “Now, I gotta make sure you ain’t leavin’ dis house! ‘Cause I thought you were better than dat!” His eyes harden when your eyes didn’t look up at his. “Hey, look at me when I’m talking to you!”

His hand turned you around and grabbed a hold of your face, forcing you to look up—

Bo’s angry blue eyes broken when a sob escaped your lips, crying out, “I’m sorry, Papa! I’m sorry!”

Hsi tight grip loosens, and he lets go as he steps away from you. He looked down at his hands, realizing they were shaking, then looked at himself in the mirror on the wall in the hall. He didn’t see himself; he saw Trudy and his father with a victory smile as if they were saying that they taught him well. He was becoming like his own parents, and it burned him.

“Sunshine,” he breathed, his eyes softening. “Darlin’, I-I didn’t mean...shit, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” He took slow steps and knelt in front of your trembling form. “My God—Papa’s so sorry. He didn’t mean for his anger to be like that. He’s sorry...he’s so sorry.” His hands still shook as he held your arms, feeling like you were glass. He’ll do better; he has to do better.

And he compared you to your mother—

“I’m sorry,” you whispered again, holding back a sob. “I’m sorry—”

“Shh, sweetheart,” he hushes softly, his fingers being gentle as he looked over you. “Dida get hurt anywhere else?”

You shook your head as fat tears fell slow.

“Hey, hey,” he cupped his large, calloused hand over your cheek, thumbing away a tear. “It’ll be right. It’ll be right, I swear.” He scooped you up in his arms, holding you tightly as he stood up, and takes the healing salve. “I’ll take care of it...I’m here. Papa’s here.”

[starogeorgina]

𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐯𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐫

Paring: Oberyn Martell x Baratheon reader

Warnings: None

1.02

You watch as the hot wax runs onto the surface of the rolled-up scroll, the color of which is much like blood. You press a stamp onto it and wait for the impression of a stag to set into the wax.

“Sending another letter to King's Landing?”

Looking over your shoulder, you smile. “Uncle, I had no idea you were there.”

In jest, he wags his finger. “You’re a very bad liar. Deceit wasn’t a Lannister trait you inherited.”

“Well, as my mother likes to remind me, I am my father’s daughter.” Your uncle was right; you were an awful liar. And you knew it was him approaching because Meraxes always hissed at him. “But no, I’m sending this to Winterfell.”

Tyrion places the jug of wine he brought with him in the middle of the small table. He sits across from you, smirking, “Oh, pray tell. The king's daughter, who’s going to marry a prince, sends love letters to her former betrothed. How scandalous.”

When you are happy that the scroll is securely sealed, you place it with the other two you wrote. “You sound like a gossiping lady at court, uncle.”

“That is not a denial, y/n.”

Rolling your eyes, you huff, “Of course I’m not writing to Robb; I’m writing to Jon.”

Not long after your tenth name-day, Lord Stark traveled south with two of his sons, his eldest son Robb, and his bastard Jon Snow. You liked both of the lord's sons, but only Robb made you blush. Your father had proposed to betroth you to Robb, but your mother fought against it for years until she finally got her way and you were promised to another.

“Ah yes, Ned Starks bastard. Do let me know if you ever find out who the boy's mother is.” He takes a large gulp of wine, then lets out a satisfied sighing noise. “That truly has been a mystery at court.”

“And betray my friends' trust? Never,” you chuckle. “I’ve written to my father and siblings, but I’ve yet to receive anything back.”

“If it’s any consolation, I very much doubt my sister is letting them receive it. I’m sure Myrcella and Tommen would both be thrilled to know you’ve written to them.”

“I hope so.”

Tommen and Marcella were both you and impressionable; you didn’t want them to think you’d abandon them deliberately, gone to start a new life while leaving them behind without a second thought.

—

Burying your toes into the sand, you enjoy the feeling of warmth surrounding your feet. You lean to the side and dip your finger into the cool water of the pond, causing a ripple effect on the surface. After a few moments, you watch as several colorful fish swim closer to your finger to investigate; one of them brushes against it, causing you to giggle slightly.

Feeling eyes on you, you look up and see Ellaria walking in the opposite direction across a wooden bridge. She was looking over her shoulder and glaring right at you.

The people of Dorne were rightfully still furious about the horrific deaths of Elia Martell and her children, and the anger was aimed in the direction of house Lannisters. Which has resulted in you being very lonely. Most people were indifferent or just outright hostile towards you. The only people who spoke to you daily were your uncle Tyrion and your lady-in-waiting. But you were the daughter of the king, so no matter how you felt, you needed to hold your head up high and not let them see how badly you were hurting.

“Princess.”

“Prince Oberyn.”

Oberyn stands in front of you with his hands behind his back gracefully. Your mouth goes dry. Oberyn was tall and slender, with lustrous black hair. Even now, with his eyes squinting slightly because of the sun shining in them, you avoid his gaze, afraid you’d get drawn in by the darkness of them.

“Where is Lord Tyrion?”

A Dornish beauty who works in a pillow house had caught your uncle’s eye, so he would be most likely absent for the rest of the day. You click your tongue. “He has gone to drink the finest wine and bed the most beautiful woman.”

“Oh,” he laughs.

Your gaze remains on the pond as the prince sits down beside you. Oberyn was very flirtatious with both men and women; however, a mere simple interaction would cause your cheeks to burn.

“I’ve got you a gift,” he says, pulling a book from behind his back and giving it to you. “When we first met, you said your septa only told you what they wanted you to know.”

You read the title out loud, “The Songs of Robert's Rebellion.”

Oberyn seems intrigued as he watches your reaction closely. His intention was never to offend you, but when he heard the book had been written, he thought you might find it interesting.

You straighten your shoulders up, place the book on your lap, and look up at him, finally locking eyes, and it’s him. “They say my father had the strength of a giant; the weapon he used in battle was a spiked iron warhammer that was so heavy that Lord Stark could barely lift it himself. In his youth, my father was known to be quite fearless.”

“I dare say he was.”

Your lips press together into a thin line. It was easy for you to get carried away talking about your father. You want to believe the version of his heroics that the septa told you, but it was just a lie. They knew it, you knew it, and Prince Obryen knows it, but no one dares speak the truth.

“Are the two of you close?”

“Yes, we are. Are you close with your daughters?” It was common knowledge that the prince had several bastard daughters. You had briefly met his eldest, Obara, whom Obryen fathered at the age of thirteen.

“They are my whole world.”

“All my life, I’ve heard King Robert Baratheon was strong as a bull and fearless in battle, a man who loved nothing better than war. But he doesn’t feel that way.” Your father shared that he never felt so alive as when he was winning his throne, but from the moment he sat on the iron throne, he felt dead inside.

“Even a man with a reputation such as the king has a softness to him. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have named his firstborn daughter after his mother.”

Crossing your arms over you, you hold the book to your chest and smile softly. “Thank you for the gift; it was a thoughtful gesture.”

[asumofwords]

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Another chapter because I am desperate for you to get up to a certain little chapter I've written which I know you will all enjoy heheh <3

Chapter 60: A Second Son and his Wife

Aemond returned later that evening, finding you sitting exactly where you had been, not moving from your spot, hand still pressed tightly against your mouth to trap the scream which threatened to fly from your lips as you stared at the grain of the wooden table. 

The tears that had fallen down your face had dried, and the hiccupping sobs that had left your lips had steadied. You breathed numbly, swallowed by the emptiness around you until Aemond moved around the table, greeting you.

“Wife.”

You brought yourself back to the room, taking your hand away from your mouth finally as you moved to look up at him, straightening yourself in your seat as he crossed the room. He placed the book he had handed you in the library down onto a side table amongst the other pile that had accumulated there. 

When he came back to you, he reached into the side of his coat. You flinched at the movement, fearing he may pull out his dagger like he had drawn on you before. Your uncle saw your reaction and slowed his hand, pulling a scroll of parchment out from within the coat, wordlessly holding it out towards you with a steady hand. 

In his hand was a rolled piece of parchment. A black three headed dragon wax stamp looking at you on top. 

A letter from your family. 

You reached out to grasp it from his grip, holding it down at the table as you looked at the waxy seal. The seal was completely in tact, holding the scroll tightly together. It had not been broken this time. It had not been read yet. 

Why had they not read it yet?

You let your finger brush against the wax seal, feeling the smooth, hard edges of the wax, and the raised ridges of where your House sigil had been pressed down into it.

“We shall dine here this evening.” Aemond told you, moving to the chamber doors to summon the maids.

You did not take your eyes away from the parchment in your hand. 

What have they said?

What if something bad had happened?

What if someone had passed?

You stood up from your chair, taking the letter with you as you walked towards the window next to the fireplace to get more light. Your fingers shook as your nail pulled under the seal, cautious as to not rip it like the last letter had.

You wished to keep the wax intact. 

Soon the seal was pulled away from the paper, and you began to unroll it gently, looking at the slopes of your mothers writing. Far more feminine and neater than your fathers, with more careful attention spent to the precision of each letter. No brash writing, written in turmoil or haste. 

A letter that had been written with great thought before hand. 

A letter that was written entirely in High Valyrian.

'Y/n,

Dragonstone has grown quiet without your presence here. 

It is strange here without you, to have someone absent, yet within reach. 

I mourn your absence. I mourn you amongst my losses, and I fear some days that perhaps I have lost you after all. Did you truly return to me that day?’

A tear fell from your eyes as you continued to read on.

‘Jacaerys and Baela are to be wed soon. It will be held here on Dragonstone, in the tradition of our House. I hope that you may be able to attend. Perhaps Aemond may escort you? 

Rhaena has gone back to Driftmark with Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys, though she has promised to visit soon.

You will be proud to know that Joffrey has been bonding with Tyraxes well. I feel that he has the same gift that you and your father have. 

Nothing that I do will ever atone for the mistakes I have made. The fate I have signed you to. Nothing shall ever atone for sending you and your brother to Storms End. Nor do I ever expect to be forgiven for such sins. 

I can only pray to the Gods that one day, you will understand. 

Daemon misses you terribly, more than you could ever imagine, just as I do. 

You were right when you told me that you could never be a son.’

Your breath hitched in your throat, as tears began to drip down your cheeks steadily, just missing the parchment in your shaking hands. 

‘Because you are my daughter, and that is more special to me than all the realm. 

Star Fruit has come in barrels to Dragonstone, and I fear that we shall never be able to finish them all without you here. 

Write to tell me if you need them sent to you.

We eagerly await your response.

-Queen Rhaenyra, First of her name, Queen of the Andals, Rhoynar and the First Men, Lady of the Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.’

A shake smile rose on your lips as you looked at the sign off. 

Queen. 

Your Queen. 

Your mother. 

Gods you missed her. 

Behind you the maids had begun to set the table as you read, bringing in your supper for you and Aemond, placing it on the table as your uncle sat on one end, waiting patiently for you to join him. You brushed the tears that had fallen from your cheeks and moved to sit on the opposite end of the table, placing the letter down gently beside you. 

Aemond’s hands came up on the table, holding each other in front of him. He closed his eyes and bowed his head and you looked on in confusion as the man began a whispered yet short lived prayer.

You had thought that perhaps he only prayed in the presence of his mother.

You did not join him, and instead looked at the way his face calmed, eye closed, with the sapphire orb on display.

His violet eye shot open as he looked at you from beneath his lashes and you felt your breath hitch in your chest. Aemond relaxed his hands, and reached across the table to begin serving himself from the large plates in front of the both of you. You followed his movement, slowly moving to serve a plate your own. 

It was the first time you had eaten together alone. 

You ate together in silence, the sound of cutlery upon your silver plates clinking in the space, as well as the familiar crackling of the fire in the foreground. Aemond ate daintily, watching you chew your food and sipping his wine intermittently.

It irritated you.

“I had time to think of my answer.” He finally broke the silence, placing his goblet down on the table with a soft clunk, eye on your face as you mirrored him. 

“I ask for Meleys’ guidance now.”

Goddess of love and fertility.

You frowned looking at him. 

Love and fertility. 

Did he pray for your love? 

For his seed to take within you?

For you to slowly swell with his child?

A shiver ran down your spine. You reached out again to grasp your goblet drinking the wine heavily. Perhaps the wine would prevent his seed from growing within you. As you placed the empty goblet back down, the ever dutiful man he was reached over to refill your cup. Your eye flicked to the letter beside it. 

Aemond followed your line of sight. 

“May I?” He asked.

“No.”

Aemond hummed before his hand shot across the table, snatching the letter from beside you quicker than you could have reacted. 

“Don’t.” You growled as he held it in front of him, his eye roaming over the letter rapidly, face blank. 

“Se vējes ziry bardutan syt ao.” The fate she signed you to, He read aloud. 

It felt so invasive for him to read such a letter. Such an invasion of your privacy. A letter written just for you, only for his eye to defile. 

It made you sick. 

“Aemond, ȳdra daor.” Don’t.

His eye left the parchment and went back to you, passing the letter back over the table towards you. You reached out to grab it but he snatched it back towards him, teasing you. Rage bubbled inside of you.

This was all a game to him. 

All of this. 

Every single moment of your suffering was fun for him.

“Tepagon ziry arlī.” Give it back, You growled.

Aemond held out the parchment to you again and you snatched it from his hand, placing it in your lap, out of his reach.

“Jacaerys is to be wed soon.” He mused.

You held his gaze. 

“My nephew is growing into a fine man.” He hummed.

Your hands balled into fists in your lap, fingernails digging harshly into your palms as you fought to not respond to his prodding. You waited with bated breath for him to call your brother a bastard.

“You may go to the union on Dragonstone, if you wish.”

Your hands loosened in your lap as you looked at him with furrowed brows.

He would let you go home?

“I would, of course, have to accompany you.”

There it was. 

“Though I feel I may not be welcomed to such a fine union. My uncle could scarcely keep his hand from the pommel of Dark Sister when we were wed.” He paused in thought, sipping from his goblet, “Baela and Jacaerys are a fine match. A strong girl for a Strong boy.”

You had anticipated it, and when it had broke forth from his lips you found that the comment irritated you more than it offended you. After all this time, the same taunt had grown familiar. Like the sharpness of its blade had grown dull with each strike. It did not hold the same bite that it used to.

But even still, it irked you. 

If he wanted to be cruel, you could be cruel. 

“Careful Aemond,” You began leaning back in your seat, “Jacaerys is Queen Rhaenyra’s successor. He is to be King someday.”

“I know no King, but Aegon.” He said smoothly. 

“The opinion of a second son does not weigh heavily on matters of the realm.” You smiled at him meanly.

Aemond hummed, leaning back in his seat as he watched you.

“The opinion of a woman married to a second son, even less so.” He quipped back. 

“No matter what you do, you will have no claim to the throne.” You began, “Aegon’s son will have that before you do. You have nothing. No land to claim, no hold to move to. My brothers will have Driftmark and spend their days at Dragonstone. All that you have to show for it,” You leant forward, sneering at him, “Is a wife who resents you, a dead sister and brother, and the knowledge that you will continue to live in your drunken brothers shadow, who has no interest in the throne, but instead the interest of warming his cock in any hole he sees fit.”

Aemond’s lip twitched as he looked at you. 

“All those years you wasted, Aem.” The nickname made him scowl, “Years you spent studying the sword and politics, war and history, preparing yourself for the throne, knowing that you would never have it."

A smile widened on your face, "Skoverdi hūra gōntan ao force aōla naejot gūrēñagon Valyrio Eglie mērī?”

How many moons did you force yourself to learn High Valyrian alone?

You watched as Aemond twitched, and delight shot through you.

“Your Hightower cunt mother has no knowledge of our native tongue. Did you spend hours alone in the Keep in my absence talking to yourself? Desperate to prove yourself to Viserys, or your mother, that you were a worthy Prince? Did you think that they would see you as a better fit than your brother?” You laughed.

Aemond shot from his chair rising, and you felt a bloom of satisfaction knowing that you finally had him. 

Aegon sitting on the throne was a sore spot for his brother. 

You leant back in your chair as he looked down at you, anger simmering beneath the surface, just barely contained. Both of your fires bouncing off of each other, stoking the flames. 

Smiling at him sadly you shook your head, rising to join him, standing on opposite ends of the table. 

A duel of fire. 

The blood of the dragon flowing thickly between the two of you.

You needed to not forget why you were here.

But you remembered.

You had never forgot.

“How did it feel, kepus?”

His lip twitched.

You stepped away from the table, coming to stand at its side in the middle, looking up at him as you watched his chest rise and fall, the pupil of his eye expanding until there was nothing but black. 

“When your mother seated Aegon on the Iron Throne, and not you?” You finished, looking at him pitifully. 

Aemond stormed you, snatching your throat tightly in his grip as he looked down at you. Air not entering your lungs as you continued to look up at him, not backing down. 

“And what of you? First born to the heir who rules half the realms. Traded as a means to end a war? What does that make you, hm?” He spat, his breath fanning over your face. 

It made you ache, but not in the way he had wanted. 

You wheezed, opening your mouth to croakily speak, smiling up at him. 

“Your wife.”

His hand faltered around your neck, loosening so that you could breathe, sucking in a sharp breath as you stayed still in his hold, the scent of leather and sandalwood surrounding you. His face came closer to yours and your heart thumped in your chest. 

Aemond pulled you forward to him with the grip on your neck, fingers tightening again as he let out a low growl. His eye searched yours, flicking back and forth as he sneered at you, until he shoved you back by your neck, causing you to stumble backwards.

Aemond turned and stalked around the table past you, his clothes brushing against you as he swept out the door, the heavy wood slamming shut behind him.

A sigh of relief fell from your lips as you stood. 

Your hand came to press at your neck where he had held you, heat from the grip radiating from the skin as a bruise would no doubt settle there. The longer you stood touching your tender flesh, looking at the doors where he had left, the more you felt triumph bubble up inside of you until a small smile lifted onto your lips, and a huff of a laugh broke into the silence of the chambers. 

You had won. 

A small, pitiful battle of wit and spite, and for once you had come out on top. 

You had waited at the table in anticipation for Aemond to turn back on his heel, to storm down the corridor and swing open the door. To return to your shared chambers and hurt you. To force himself into you dryly, and painfully.

For him to hit you, or throw you to the floor.

But he never returned. 

And so you had slipped into your bedclothes, and under the sheets, exhausted from the day and fell asleep with the knowledge that you could hurt him. And that you could win. That this was not all for naught.

And you had a chance.

Aemond never returned to the chambers that night.

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