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lewmagoo · 2 months

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six summers | bob floyd

description: it's been six years. six years since you walked away from the man you loved. six years since the night that your own foolish actions led to the disappearance of sixteen-year-old melissa seresin. you’ve spent these last few years living with crippling guilt. and after everything that happened, the last thing you are expecting is an invite to return to the camp and reassume your role as counselor. but here you are, staring in disbelief at a letter asking you to do just that. providing you with the opportunity to make things right. will you be able to come to terms with the past and allow yourself to accept this second chance? or will you let your guilt consume you?

characters: bob floyd x reader, the dagger squad as their respective characters, pete mitchell, penny benjamin, a number of my own ocs

warnings: 18+ only, mentions of death, guilt, references to sex, mentions of anxiety

series status: ongoing

listen to the playlist here!

this story is inspired by @ryebecca and this fantastic moodboard she made ; i also drew some inspiration from riley sager's the last time i lied

*this is my own original work - i do not consent to having it reposted or redistributed in any way

July 30th, 1980

1:15 am

All you felt was terror. Icy cold, like someone had shoved their frigid fingers beneath your shirt, digits pressing harsh, angry bruises into the skin while they were at it. Your arms were wrapped around yourself as you stood in the damp morning air, your eyes flitting about nervously, your gut churning with nausea.

“You do realize that your negligence in this situation is going to come with consequences, right? How could you be so stupid?!” Penny Mitchell’s voice had a sharp edge to it, despite her lowered tone. Her eyes were piercing. You couldn’t look at her.

“Don’t try to pin this all on her. I’m just as much to blame.” That was Bobby’s voice, coming from beside you, an air of protectiveness emanating from him as he stepped closer, standing in solidarity with you.

“Oh, trust me, I’m holding you responsible, too. But she’s the one who was supposed to be in charge of that cabin. If she would have been at her post, this wouldn’t have happened. But no! The two of you were off doing God knows what, while one of our campers wandered off into the night!”

Penny got into your face, pointing her finger, her anger palpable, radiating off her in waves. “You had better pray that girl is still alive, because if she winds up dead, her blood is on your hands, counselor.”

May 18th, 1986

10:30 am

“Mail’s in!” The voice of your roommate carried through your apartment, pulling your attention from the rhythmic tapping of the antique typewriter you’d picked up from a yard sale. Without a second thought, you sprang from your chair, flinging open your bedroom door, bare feet quick against carpet as you hurried toward the kitchen, where Margie was just walking through the door with a stack of mail.

“Any of it addressed to me?” You asked, a hopeful inflection in your voice.

Margie nodded, tossing the envelopes onto the countertop. “Yeah, you’re popular, got two letters addressed to you.”

Eagerly, you shuffled through the stack before you located the letters she was talking about. One had no definitive markings, so you had no idea where it was from. But the other had a promising logo on the front– The Capital Gazette.

“The Gazette sent something back!” You exclaimed, flipping the envelope over, fingers trembling as you tore into the seal.

Margie gasped, her attention immediately zeroing in on the letter you held. “What did they say?!” She exclaimed, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“Gimme a minute!” You shot back as you rushed to unfold the paper. Your eyes hurriedly scanned the contents, but within moments, your shoulders fell, the thrill of hope fading away to heavy disappointment. The words we regret to inform you were all you needed to read to know what the letter was about.

“I didn’t get the job,” came your glum statement.

“What?” Margie snatched the paper off the counter when you let it drop, reading it for herself. “Oh, come on! You’re the best damn writer I know, how could they turn you down?!”

You shook your head, fighting the tears of disappointment that had gathered on your lash line. “They don’t need me. They’ve got better writers.”

“That’s bullshit!” She huffed, shaking her head, knocking some of her unkempt curls loose from her haphazard ponytail.

“Whatever,” you said, bitterly. “There are other newspapers I can apply to. Other magazines. People are hiring all over the place,” you said, hoping to instill hope in your own heart. But it did little to lift your spirits.

Your roommate sighed softly, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder. “I’m sorry. Really.”

“Thanks, Mar. So am I.”

Her attention shifted to the other, unopened letter on the counter. “What’s that one say?”

With a clueless shrug, you reached for it. All it bore was your address in handwriting that was oddly familiar. Tentatively, you tore into the envelope, brows furrowed as you unfolded the paper and began to read.

And then, “holy shit.”

“What is it?” Margie demanded, curious. When you looked at her, she noticed the expression of worry etched into your brow.

“Camp Mitchell,” you whispered.

At that, the woman’s eyes went wide. “Oh my God.” And then, she waved her hand, motioning you on. “What does it say?”

“They…they want me to come back as a counselor.”

I hope this letter finds you well. I am reaching out to you because I wanted to extend a formal invitation to return to camp as a counselor this summer. I know that things ended on a sour note for all of us involved, but Pete and I desire to breathe new life into this camp. We want to give other campers the chance to experience the wonder and magic of summertime at Camp Mitchell. I understand if you would prefer not to return, but it would be an honor to have you back with us again. Think we can agree to let bygones be bygones? I sure do hope so. Please give me a call at the number below and let me know if you would like to return and reassume your role as a camp counselor. Arrival deadline for counselors is May 24th. Hope to see you soon!

Best wishes,

Penny Mitchell

You stared at the words in absolute shock. They wanted you to come back? After everything that had happened? After your own foolishness had resulted in a girl going missing? You had to admit, it was a bold move on Penny’s part.

The police had heavily investigated you when young Melissa Seresin went missing six years prior. Penny had even blamed you for the girl’s disappearance. It was hard to imagine her wanting you to come anywhere near her camp ever again.

“I need to sit down,” you muttered, tossing the letter back onto the counter and stepping toward the kitchen table, where you hurriedly pulled out one of the chairs and lowered yourself into the seat. Two life-altering events had just taken place in the span of five minutes. You needed to process all of it.

As you tried to regain your wits, Margie scanned over the letter. Then, she sauntered over to you, letting out a sigh as she pulled out the chair across from you and flopped down into it, her legs parted, arms falling down to dangle over the sides. She blew a pesky curl away from her face.

Sympathetic brown eyes landed upon you, and the girl before you smiled softly. Understandingly. “What are you gonna do?”

“I really don’t know,” you said. “Since the job with The Gazette fell through…I might have no choice but to take up the offer to go back to camp. At least I’d be making some kind of income during the summer while I try to figure things out.”

Margie raised a dark brow. “Listen, you do what you think is best for you. But…after everything that happened there, are you sure you’re ready to go back? It’s only been six years.” She was not coming from a place of judgment. She was coming from a place of genuine concern for her friend.

You groaned softly, placing your head in your hands. “I dunno know what to do. Honestly, I’m not ready. But then again it might give me closure. And maybe that’s what Penny is thinking. If she wants to make things right with me after the way things ended…maybe I should go.”

The girl sighed. “Yeah, I guess closure might be something that comes outta this. I just don’t want you to have to go through all that shit again, though.”

Your mouth quirked into a grateful smile. “I know, Mar. I’ve gotta think about it, first. I’m not making any decisions yet.”

“Well, let me know what you decide. Whatever choice you make, I’ll support you.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

As Margie left you at the table to be alone with your thoughts, you considered the weight of the situation. It had all happened so fast, and you felt as if you were caught up in a whirlwind. You only had a week to make a decision, because you had to be at camp on the 24th if you decided to go.

Were you ready to go back, after only six short years? The thought made your stomach turn. Camp Mitchell was a place that held a lot of trauma for you. Your life had fallen apart there.

You had been a first-year counselor in the summer of 1980. A job meant to get you through the summer, before you returned to college in the fall. You remembered being so hopeful and excited about what the summer held.

Camp Mitchell was a camp situated in Michigan’s wilderness. Secluded, surrounded by forests as far as the eye could see. Quaint little wooden cabins. A mess hall. A volleyball pit. A lake. All the other amenities that a typical summer camp would have.

You were put in charge of the junior/senior girls' cabin. Eleventh and twelfth graders. You were slightly intimidated because you were only a few years older than they were. You worried that they would not respect you. But much to your relief, the girls accepted you with open arms.

Throughout the many weeks of camp, you bonded with several different girls who passed through your cabin. But none of them connected as well with you as Melissa Seresin.

July 1980

She was the younger sister of one of the other counselors, Jake Seresin, and she was sweet as could be. She attended camp most of the summer, because her brother worked there, and she didn’t want to remain stuck at home alone while her parents traveled for the summer.

So, she tagged along with Jake. Unlike her brother, she was not cocky. She had a very kindhearted demeanor. A little spoiled, once in a while, due to being the youngest and only girl of rich parents and a doting older brother, but nothing you couldn’t tolerate.

Melissa remained a semi-permanent fixture in your cabin, even as groups of girls from different places — schools, church youth groups, family groups, so on and so forth — passed through all summer.

She knew the camp like the back of her hand, and had spent a few summers there already. You didn’t have to worry about her like you might other campers, because she was well aware of the camp’s procedures.

That was why it was so jarring when, one night in the middle of the summer, she disappeared without a trace.

Late one night, after lights out, the girls in your cabin noticed her absence. Melissa was always in bed come lights out. Not always asleep, but certainly always present. Her neatly made, unoccupied bed raised suspicions, but it was her missing backpack that made the girls think that she had left altogether.

You were not at your post like you were supposed to be. Earlier that night, you had enforced lights out, but soon after had slipped out into the night to meet someone. The girls ranged from fifteen to eighteen years old, so you were not particularly concerned about them getting up to mischief. But in your haste to leave, you neglected to double-check that Melissa was present.

To your utter shame, you had left to meet up with another counselor. The head counselor of the seventh and eighth-grade boys' cabin, Robert Floyd. Bob to his friends. Mr. Bob to the campers. Bobby to you, and only you.

It wasn’t in your nature to sneak around. Neither was it in Bob’s. But you had gotten tangled up in an impassioned summer fling, and you took advantage of every free moment you had to be together.

It was in that time span of you and Bob sneaking off to the lake, that Melissa had gone missing. And when you returned to the cabin an hour later, the girls were all awake, in a slight state of upheaval.

“Where have you been?!” Asked Claudia, one of the senior girls. “I was about to leave and go find Mrs. Mitchell!”

“I needed some air. Why, what’s up?” You cautiously asked.

Claudia motioned to Melissa’s empty bed. “Melissa never made it in for lights out.”

You stared at the bed, its covers untouched and meticulously tucked in, as a hotel bed would be. That was the way she made it every morning. She hadn’t been in that bed since last night. “No, she was here when I left!” You insisted.

“Um, no she wasn’t,” Marissa, another senior, piped up. “Plus, her backpack is gone.”

“Oh, God. Well, that’s my bad for sure. Okay, um, I’m sure she can’t have gotten far. She knows this camp well. Don’t worry, I’ll go take a look around. The rest of you, stay put. Lemme just do a count to make sure nobody else went off with her.”

After a headcount, you came up with fourteen girls. Melissa would make fifteen, so she was the only one missing. Huffing out a sigh, and attempting to keep yourself calm and neutral so the girls wouldn’t panic, you squared your shoulders.

“I’ll go grab another counselor and we’ll take a look. Claudia, you’re the oldest, so you’re in charge. Make sure no one leaves. The rest of you, try to get some sleep. I know you’re a little freaked right now but it’s gonna be okay.” The biggest lie you could have told them. It was, in fact, not going to be okay.

“What should we do if she comes back?” Claudia asked, running a nervous hand through her thick brunette locks. Her dark eyes were fearful, although she was trying to appear brave, just as you were trying to do.

“Just make sure she stays put. I’ll come back and check in a bit, if I don’t find her, and we can touch base then.”

Once you were certain the girls understood the plan, you excused yourself again, stepping out into the humid July night. Crickets sang as you ambled down the path that led to the boys’ cabins, but the pounding of your heart in your ears drowned out the sound.

Your hands shook, unsteady as you held your flashlight before you. Tears blurred your vision, and the heat of embarrassment washed over you. How could you be so stupid? Here you were, off getting laid while one of your girls was nowhere to be found.

You had to look for her, but you weren’t going to do it alone. Hurriedly, you ascended the steps of cabin 13, the first of the boys’ cabins. Light on your feet, so as not to step on any squeaky boards, you crept closer to the door.

Three soft raps, five seconds apart. That was your code. And sure enough, within moments, the door inched open, and there was your Bobby. You had just seen him twenty minutes prior, but he’d already changed into his sleep clothes. An old camp shirt and basketball shorts.

Brow furrowed, he quietly closed the door behind him, stepping out onto the porch. You reached for his hand and guided him off the porch, onto the soft, sandy ground. “What’s goin’ on, Kit?” He asked. The nickname he’d dubbed you for reasons so much more lighthearted than the situation you were facing.

“Melissa’s gone,” you whispered. “The girls said she was never there for lights out.”

“Huh? But you checked on them before you left.”

“I did, but I…I guess I just missed Melissa. I thought she was there, but tonight was so chaotic…God, I can’t believe I could be so stupid” You despaired.

“Shh,” Bob soothed, reaching out to run comforting hands down your arms. “Hey, she probably just went for a walk. I’m not close to her, but I know she likes to go and write in that journal of hers a lot. She’s probably doing that.”

“But that’s not like her. Yeah, she writes in her diary but she’s never done this before. Just…up and left like that. I’m scared, Bobby. I think something might’ve happened to her. And it’s all my fault.”

But he was already shaking his head. “No, don’t even let your mind go there. You’ll drive yourself crazy.” His hands had moved to cup your cheeks. “Tell you what, I’ll help you look for her. If we don’t find her in the next hour, we can tell Penny and get a search party goin’.”

You prayed it wouldn’t come to that, but the sick feeling in your gut told you otherwise. It was your fault, no matter how much Bobby tried to assure you it wasn’t. If Melissa was truly missing, then you were the one to blame. But you didn’t dare speak it into the air. You couldn’t.

“O-okay. We can look together, then.”

And so, the two of you set off on the search for Melissa Seresin. Missy, as her brother liked to call her. You thought of Jake, who was in charge of the senior boys’ cabin. You knew he’d be pissed that you didn’t wake him up immediately and tell him what was going on. He was very protective of his baby sister. But you didn’t want to involve him just yet. You had to try to find her yourself, first.

You set out to search all the places she frequented. Melissa wasn’t as outgoing as her brother. She had a vibrant personality, but also had introverted tendencies. She cherished her alone time, so it wasn’t odd for her to be at the lake, or the horse stables, writing. But she was always visible, and she had never sneaked off before. And certainly not after dark, either.

These woods were terrifying at night. It was easy to get lost in their vastness. Even a girl who knew her way around could get lost. But you prayed that wasn’t the case.

You took to searching her usual hangout spots. The lake, even though you and Bob had been there a half hour ago, and hadn’t seen her. Sure enough, she wasn’t there. Then, you took a peek in the horse stables. The camp had not yet obtained horses to occupy the stables, so it was just an empty building.

Hopeful, you followed Bob inside, holding your breath as he called out, “Melissa? You in here, honey? It’s Bob Floyd.”

But you were met with dead silence, so deafening it brought a shiver down your spine. “Oh, my God. She’s gone. She’s gone forever. This is all my fault!” You panicked, burying your face in your hands.

Bobby, ever the calm and steady one, gently soothed you. “Hey. Hey! Look at me.”

You lifted your tearful eyes to his face, illuminated by the yellow glow of your flashlight.

“It’s gon’ be okay, alright? We’ll find her. We just need to go get Penny and Pete and tell ‘em what happened. We can get a search party organized. We’ll cover more ground that way.”

Lovingly, he took your hand, and together, you made the trek back toward the main part of camp, where the office, mess hall, and staff quarters were. The entire walk, your mind was spiraling with all the possibilities of what could have happened to Melissa.

Something was wrong. You knew it.

And, as it would turn out, you were, unfortunately, right. Melissa Seresin never was found. Not when you and the other counselors organized a search party. Not when the police got involved. Not when Jake and Melissa’s dad, an agent in the FBI, got his team involved. It was as if she’d vanished into thin air. Gone without a trace.

Jake blamed you. But that was okay, because you blamed yourself, too.

Your own negligence was the reason Melissa was gone. And the police grilled you for it. Much to your utter relief, the Seresins chose not to press charges. But you were left to live with the guilt, and that was punishment enough.

And now, here you were. Six years later. Wounds from the past only partially healed. Presented with an opportunity to go back to the place where it all started, and ended. If you did return, would those wounds reopen, and drain the blood from your veins? Or would those wounds finally heal?

And most importantly, did you have the guts to find out?

One Week Later

A ticket reading Harper, Michigan was clutched tightly in your hand, the paper rumpling from your grip. Your suitcase and duffel bag were beside you, as you stood at the bus depot, waiting for the Greyhound to pull up and take you to your destination.

“I still think you’re crazy for this,” Margie spoke from beside you. She’d come to see you off.

You turned to her, taking in her soft smile, despite her disapproval of your choice. “I know,” you replied.

“But I also understand why you want to do this. I really hope it gives you the closure you’re looking for.”

You threw your arms around your friend’s shoulders, hugging her tight. “Thanks, Mar. I’ll try to give you a call at some point in the next few weeks, but the only phone on the property is the one in the main office and I doubt I’ll have time.”

“Don’t worry about it. You can tell me all about it when you get back,” she assured you.

You took one last good look at her, as you knew you wouldn’t see her for a few months, if you fulfilled your commitment to work the entire camp season. The late morning sun shone down from the sky, illuminating her dark curls. Always so unkempt, but the style suited her.

“I’ll be seeing ya,” you finally said.

She nodded, squeezing your hand. “Take care of yourself. And good luck.”

The bus pulled into the stop as you bid your final goodbyes, and then, you handed off your luggage to the attendant to pack away beneath the bus before you climbed the steps into the large vehicle, flashing your ticket to the driver. You took a seat toward the back, settling in and placing your purse beside you, hoping that you would get two of the tackily upholstered seats all to yourself.

As soon as you were settled, you fished your Walkman out of your bag, unraveling the headphones and placing them on your head. As soon as you hit play, the opening sound of the 1975 Eagles album, One of These Nights, filled your ears.

You had purposely chosen this tape to accompany you on your trip, because it held a lot of nostalgic memories for you. Namely, it had been a gift from your Bobby. He’d given it to you in the beginning stages of your romance, after you’d expressed to him that the album was one of your favorites.

“I want you to have it,” he insisted. “A memento that you can have all the time, to remind you of what a great time we had together here.”

And you did have a great time. But the trauma of Melissa’s disappearance had soured the whole thing. All you had left of Bobby was this tape, and a few braided jute bracelets he had made you, from plant fibers. You still wore them on your wrist to this day.

He had tried to keep in contact with you after the camp shut down. He’d sent letters. Called your home phone. But you never answered. As much as you loved him, the reminder of what had happened was too painful, and you let your connection to him fizzle out.

But as you listened to the familiar cords, a rush of memories flooded you, the wave so intense that it took your breath away. Flashes of Bob’s beautiful face. Twinkling eyes, blushing cheeks, a crinkled button nose. The prettiest laughter you’d ever heard.

Large, warm hands exploring. Lips trailing searing kisses down your sternum. Whispers of your name. Groans of pl–

With a gasp, you snatched the headphones off your head, eyes flickering about, as if someone around you could have heard your thoughts. But everyone else was in their own little world, completely oblivious to the salacious flashbacks you had just experienced.

But they made you warm with shame nonetheless.

You’d be foolish not to admit that you’d thought of Bobby over the years. Looked back on your encounters with fondness. With desire. You’d been sexually involved with a few other people since then, but the entire time, you could only think of him. It was why you’d stopped seeing other people. They weren’t your Bobby.

You wondered if he thought about you, too.

More importantly, you wondered if he’d be returning to Camp Mitchell like you were. Were you ready to face him again? The thought made your stomach flutter with butterflies.

You imagined he’d moved on. He had to. Hell, he probably had a wife and kids already. Imagining such a thing sent a queasy rush through you. You still weren’t over him, and you supposed you never would be. He was your first great love.

But he wasn’t the only person you would potentially face from your past.

Your mind went to the other counselors you’d worked with that fateful summer. Specifically, you thought of Jake Seresin. Surely he wouldn’t return to camp, right? Not after his baby sister had disappeared from that very place. It had to be too painful for him.

Little did you know, everyone you had worked with was also traveling from their own respective homes and cities, headed right for Camp Mitchell, just like you were.

The camp was founded by Pete and Penny Mitchell, a husband and wife duo. They had started it with the best of intentions. It was in its fifth successful year when you came on staff. And that just so happened to be the last year it was in operation.

Until now.

What had made the couple decide it was a good idea to reopen the camp, you had no idea. But you were going to give it a chance. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

But several hours later, as the Greyhound pulled into the station in Harper, a tiny town boasting of a general store, a bus depot, and a long, winding road that led up to the camp itself.

As you stepped off the bus, you realized one very important detail: you had no idea how you were even getting up to the camp. Would they send a driver down to retrieve everyone?

Your question was soon answered when you caught sight of a large white poster board propped against a nearby lamppost. CAMP MITCHELL STAFF WAIT HERE. A DRIVER WILL ESCORT YOU TO CAMP.

With a sigh, you rolled your suitcase over to the post, hoping you wouldn’t have to wait long. And you didn’t. About five minutes later, an old teal-colored truck came down the road, its engine obnoxiously loud. On the side, Camp Mitchell was printed in bold letters.

You straightened, smoothing out your travel-rumpled clothes as you grabbed your belongings, prepared to help load everything into the truck. It didn’t even occur to you that you might know the driver. You expected to meet someone entirely new.

As soon as the vehicle pulled to a stop at the curb, you were already moving to the truck bed, hoisting your duffel bag over the side, letting it land with a satisfying thump.

“Here, let me,” a familiar voice spoke up, and in moments, a pair of hands were stealing your suitcase away, heaving it into the bed.

You looked up at the man assisting you, and your blood ran cold. As he turned from putting your luggage in place, he froze, too. Wide blue eyes, no longer hidden beneath a pair of wireframes, locked with your own.

You didn’t speak. You couldn’t.

But he did. In a voice as smooth and soft as butter, yet breathless with surprise. “Kit?”

You squeezed your eyes shut.

Kit. The nickname he’d dubbed you six years ago. It was something so simple. So silly. You’d had an affinity for KitKat bars that summer. They were the only candy bars you liked from the camp store. As a joke, Bobby had said “I should call you KitKat, since you like those things so much.”

And thus, it was shortened to Kit. The name stuck.

Hearing it again made your head spin. You felt woozy on your feet. You swayed a little. A memory flashed in your mind. You and him. Sitting under the old weeping willow. His fingertips wiping chocolate from the corner of your mouth.

It sent a burning ache through your chest.

“Oh my God,” you whispered. “B-Bobby.” The first words you’d spoken to him in six years.

He let out a breath, shaking his head in disbelief. “I didn’t think you’d show.”

You gathered yourself, trying to regain your composure. “I didn’t either,” you whispered.

He offered a tentative smile. “That doesn’t mean I’m not happy to see you, though.”

You lifted your head, brow furrowed in confusion. “You are?”

“Gosh, I am. It’s been too long. I didn’t…didn’t know what happened to you. You never responded to my calls or letters. I thought maybe…” He wouldn’t speak it out loud. He couldn’t.

But you inferred what he meant from his tone. He’d feared that the trauma of what had happened had been too much for you to handle. That you’d succumbed to it all.

“I was working on myself. Trying to heal.”

He nodded. “Understandable.” The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled again. “I really am glad to see you, though. You look well.”

You shrugged. “I’m workin’ on it. And I’m glad to see you too.”

You looked at him, really looked at him, and you realized how much he’d changed, but also stayed the same. He’d filled out. His shoulders were more broad. Muscular. His glasses were gone, presumably replaced with contacts. His hair, once close-cropped, was longer now, curling at the nape of his neck, peeking out from beneath the baseball cap he wore. His jaw was shadowed with stubble.

He looked like a man.

But there was still that boyish glint in his eyes, and hiding behind his smile. Still that same gentleness reserved particularly for you. It was overwhelming, and you could feel your chest beginning to tighten.

“Are you, uh, are you ready to head up there? Or do ya need a minute?” Bobby asked, his voice low. Laced with concern.

You stepped back. “I thought I could do this. Maybe I can’t.”

He let you have your space. “Take all the time you need.”

The rush of memories flooding you was overwhelming. The last time you saw him. The last thing you said to him.

Six Years Ago

The day you left camp, it was raining. Pouring from the sky in sheets, washing everything in a gray hue that made the world look like a watercolor painting.

The sandy ground squashed beneath your feet as you walked toward that old truck, with the camp’s logo on the side. Your luggage was stuffed into the truck bed, wrapped in plastic garbage bags so it wouldn’t get wet in the downpour.

As you climbed into the cab, Bobby came running out of the main office, making a beeline for the truck. He scrambled to wrench open the door and join you inside, breathing labored as he settled into the seat.

For a few moments, it was silent, save for the sound of him moving to start the engine. He fiddled with the heat dial, hoping to reduce the fog on the windows, as the rain had made the air unseasonably chilly that morning.

You both sat there, staring out the windshield, watching the water trickle down the glass. He made no move to put the truck in gear.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“Bobby—”

“No, listen to me. I’m sorry it came to this. It shouldn’t have.”

“What’s done is done. Please, let’s just get out of here. I can’t stay in this place another minute.”

Bobby lingered for a moment, his eyes on you, even as you refused to look at him. You were afraid that if you did, you’d melt into a fit of tears. So, with a soft sigh, he put the truck in drive, and began the journey down the winding dirt road that led out of camp.

The trip was silent. You had nothing left to say, because you’d exhausted all your words these last few weeks. Countless hours of interrogation. Recounting that night over and over again. The conclusion was that a girl was missing, and it likely would not have happened if you’d been doing your job. That was a sense of guilt that you would have to live with for the rest of your life.

Bob pulled into the bus station fifteen minutes later, and you didn’t hesitate as you hurried to slide out of your seat, shoes colliding with wet asphalt. Your chest was tight, eyes blurring with tears as you rushed to grab your luggage.

“Would ya stop for a minute?!” Bobby exclaimed, reaching out to gently grab at your arm.

But you jerked away from him. “Please, don’t…don’t make this harder than it is,” you whispered.

He stared at you, brilliant blue eyes wide, filled with emotion. “So, what, you won’t even say goodbye?”

You feared that saying goodbye would break the dam, and you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself together. You’d fall into his arms, sobbing your heart out, and you would never get on that bus. The man before you sighed, shaking his head before he moved to haul your suitcase out of the truck, placing the plastic-covered bag on the sidewalk.

“That’s it then?” He spoke, his tone grim.

Squaring your shoulders, you nodded, forcing yourself to hold it together. “Goodbye, Robert.”

You turned to leave, and he watched you go, his heart falling to pieces within him. He was losing you, perhaps forever, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He wanted to go after you. Wanted to shake you and tell you to just listen. But you were so entrenched in the trauma of what had happened that he wasn’t sure you could listen to reason at all.

So he let you leave. He watched you climb onto that Greyhound, bound for home, all while he was left there with a wound in his heart, wishing that things could have ended differently. Wishing that your love for each other had been enough to keep you with him.

But it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough. And that was something he had to live with.

May 1986

Seeing you again was a lot for him. You were just as beautiful as he remembered. Even more so, now, if that was possible. He was also hit with a rush of emotions. He never thought he’d see you again. When he’d received the letter from Penny, inviting him back to camp, he had thought about you, and was sure you wouldn’t come back.

But here you were, standing before him, uncertain and anxious, and he found himself wanting nothing more than to pull you into his arms and comfort you. But he kept his distance, not wanting to invade your personal space. You weren’t his any longer. He could not touch you the way he used to.

You took a moment to pull yourself together, taking a deep breath, counting to ten, trying to ground yourself. Then, you fixed your posture, and nodded in Bob’s direction. “Alright. I think…I think I’m okay. We can, um, we can leave if you’re ready.”

“Okay. Let’s go then.” He opened the passenger door for you, and you climbed into that old truck once again, just as you had six years ago.

Everything had come full circle.

Bobby rounded the truck and settled into the driver’s seat, and soon, he’d started the engine, pulling away from the curb, turning onto the road that led up to camp. Your gut churned with anxiety. You were really doing this. There was no turning back now.

The radio played softly as Bob drove. Some old country song. Hank Williams, you thought. Its grainy, peaceful tune did well to calm your anxiety. Your hands had stopped trembling.

“It’s been a while,” the man beside you murmured. His accent seemed to have gotten thicker, a slight twang to it.

“I know,” you replied, staring down at your lap. Then, “God, I’m so sorry, Bobby. I shouldn’t have gone no contact like I did. I got the letters you sent. And I got every message you left on my answering machine. But I just…I couldn’t bring myself to respond.”

He shook his head. “No, I get it. I should’ve given you more space. I know everything that happened was a lot for you.”

“But that’s no excuse for me to just ignore you. It wasn’t right of me. I’m really sorry.”

“Apology accepted. It’s in the past, Kit. We can leave it there.”

It was that easy. A soothing sense of relief washed over you, warming you from head to toe. That exchange made you feel a little more at ease, and the conversation soon shifted.

“Did everyone come back this year?”

He nodded, humming lowly. “Most of ‘em, surprisingly. Bradley, Natasha, Mickey, Reuben, Javy. Half got here last night. The rest came earlier this mornin’.”

You hesitated, picking at a jagged nail on your right hand. “And…Jake?”

Bob was silent for a moment, his jaw tightening. “Yeah, him too.”

You recoiled in confusion. “But…why would he come back?”

“Penny didn’t say it in her letter, but they’re doing a dedication ceremony for Melissa. There’s a new garden area they installed in the main part of camp. It’s gonna be called Melissa Jo’s Garden. They had a plaque made and everything. Jake agreed to come for the ceremony. I dunno if he’s staying all summer though.”

“Oh.” It felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from your lungs. You had not left things on a good note with Jake. He harbored deep resentment toward you for neglecting to watch over your cabin. He blamed you for his sister’s disappearance.

“He seems to be handling everything alright. He might actually be okay with seeing you again.”

But you weren’t so sure. There was that nervousness again, roiling in your gut. Did you have the nerve to face him? And how would he react? You doubted he’d welcome you back with open arms.

You’d soon find out, because just up ahead, the Camp Mitchell sign could be seen. Large, deep green in color, with white lettering. So familiar, yet so foreign all at once.

You couldn’t believe you were back. What if this turned out to be the most foolish decision you’d ever made?

You didn’t have time to consider that, because Bobby was pulling into the common area in no time, and killing the engine. It was time to face the past you’d been running like hell to get away from.

As Bob got out to gather your luggage, you pushed the old, squeaky passenger door open and let your feet land in the soft sand.

The scent of pine and honeysuckle filled your nose. It sent an intense wave of nostalgia through you. So much had changed, and yet nothing had, all at the same time.

The layout was still the same. Clinic. Main office. Mess hall. Common area. But in the middle of the main entrance was a small garden. Stone paths weaved throughout. Spindly bushes, multicolored flowers, and other plants decorated the soil. Right in the middle of the garden was what appeared to be a large stone, covered with a tarp. You assumed the plaque for Melissa was hidden beneath the tarp.

And then, a voice caught your attention. You looked up to find Penny Mitchell approaching you. Blue cotton shorts, accessorized with a belt. A blue and white striped t-shirt tucked into them. A pair of hiking boots were on her feet. Practical, that one was. Always ready for an outdoor excursion at a moment’s notice.

You braced yourself, unsure of how she would behave toward you. She had rightfully held you responsible for Melissa’s disappearance, and you weren’t sure if she’d moved on from that. But, if she’d invited you back, she had to have at least found it in her heart to forgive you. You hoped so, anyway.

“Welcome!” She said, sweeping her arms out in greeting. “I’m glad you could make it!”

“Oh, um, thanks. Me…me too,” you said, unsure of the proper response.

Bobby sidled up beside you. You didn’t feel so alone with him there.

“Did Bob fill you in on everything on the drive up?”

“Kinda, yeah,” came your answer.

Penny nodded. “Once everyone is settled, Pete and I will take you on a tour. We’ve made a lot of changes these last few months.” Then she looked at Bob. “Would you show her to her cabin? We’ll put her in cabin five.”

“Sure thing,” he replied.

“We’ll have a little orientation meeting after dinner. There’s a whole itinerary we have to go over. I put a schedule in your cabin. Any questions?”

Yeah, lots. You stared at her for a moment. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you invite me back? After everything that happened?”

She regarded you silently, her expression neutral. Then, she said, “Because I believe in second chances. Or, rather, my husband does. He wanted to bring all of you back and start with a clean slate. Whether or not you’ve earned that second chance remains to be seen. But I hope you have.” Her words sent a painful ache through your chest. You didn’t blame her for being wary of you, but it still hurt.

As she excused herself, you were once again left alone with Bobby. “Y’alright?” He gently asked, cadence low and comforting.

You processed his words for a moment. “Yeah…yeah. I’m okay.”

“You need a minute?”

“No. Let’s just get my stuff to my cabin.”

With a single nod, he grabbed your suitcase and duffel bag, moving to walk up the hill. You followed closely behind, letting the rush of memories ebb through you. The cabins were small, build from dark wood, with green paint detailing the shutters and doors. They looked like they’d received fresh coats of paint, but otherwise, everything was still the same.

It didn’t take long to reach cabin five. Bob carried your things inside, and you slowly followed, your heart quickening as you stepped through the door. The scent of cedar and pine was familiar and painful all at once.

This wasn’t the cabin you’d been in when you were here last. You were in cabin two then, just one over from this one. Even so, it looked so eerily similar that for a moment, you were transported back to the summer of 1980.

Funnily enough, Bob had been the one to show you to your cabin for the first time that year, too.

“You’ve still got ‘em.”

Your eyes flickered to him, and your brow furrowed. “Huh?”

“The bracelets I made you.”

Oh. You looked down, eyeing your wrist, where the two braided jute bracelets remained, from when he’d made them for you that year. Dyed faintly with berry juice. Fraying at the edges, but still intact. “Um, yeah…I do. Guess I just could never bring myself to take them off.”

He stepped forward, reaching his hand out. You let him gingerly take your wrist into his palm. His fingers brushed against the braided rope, and his touch sent goosebumps across your skin. “After all these years,” he whispered, afraid that if he spoke any louder, his voice would fail him.

All at once, you were floored with an intense wave of emotion, so powerful it nearly drove you to your knees. It hit you out of nowhere, like a gut punch. “Bobby,” you whimpered.

Shocking blue flickered to meet your wide-eyed gaze, and his face crumpled, bottom lip quivering. “Kit.”

You weren’t sure who moved first, but you were in each other’s arms then, holding on tightly, as if the other would float away if you loosened your grip. The sound of soft sobs reached your ears, and you realized that they were coming from you.

“I never should have walked away from you. Never, ever!” You cried against his chest. “I’m sorry!”

“No, shhh,” he soothed, cradling your head against him. “Don’t do this to yourself. It’s okay, you’re forgiven.”

You pulled back to look at him, shaking your head. “It’s not okay!”

Two large hands came up to hold your face. “It hurt me, alright? I’ll admit that. Broke my heart in two. But I never held it against you, because…because I knew everything you’d been through. I know that summer was the worst time of your life. It made sense to me if you didn’t want to speak to me ever again. I would’ve just been a reminder of everything that happened.”

“But I did want to talk to you, Bobby. I did. I just couldn’t get past the goddamn trauma.”

He shook his head, his face kind. “I know. But we’re here now, together. That’s gotta count for something.” Maybe we’ve been given a second chance, he wanted to say, but he didn’t want to move too fast. He was well aware that your romance might never be rekindled. However, he was content to just remain friends with you if it meant that you would be in his life again.

You went quiet, letting your head fall against his chest again. You couldn’t believe you were here, standing in the middle of a cabin at the place where you had lost everything. It felt so surreal. It was as if a million years had passed since you saw him here last, and yet, it also felt like no time had passed at all.

There was so much that needed to be discussed. But there was no hurry. For now, you were just relieved to know that you had not burned a bridge with your first great love. If nothing else went right for you this summer, he was the one good thing that would come out of it.

“I’m glad…I’m glad it was you who picked me up at the station,” you admitted.

Bobby smiled softly. “So am I.” He searched your face, as if memorizing it. “I really thought I wouldn’t ever see you again.”

You hummed in agreement. “Me too. But I guess fate wanted us to meet again.”

“She’s a tricky one, that Fate.”

“Don’t I know it.”

Finally, he parted from you, though the absence of his body made yours feel cold. He didn’t want to overstep. “Well…I guess I’ll let you get settled.” He moved toward the door, but your voice gave him pause.

“Actually, wait for me. I don’t want to face everyone alone. I’d prefer it if we walked together.” Bobby might be the only person in this damn place to accept you again. You wanted to cling to that, and the security it provided.

He gave a single nod. “Alright. You want any help getting settled, then?”

Together, you set about getting everything situated. Bob went around and checked the cabin for spiders, because he knew you weren’t a fan of the little (and sometimes big) guys. He found one, which he very gently coaxed into his hand (murmuring “c’mon, little buddy” as he did) and released it outside.

Once you had your stuff organized, and did a quick clean sweep of the cabin, you were ready to join everyone else. There was a paper posted on the wall just beside the door, detailing the itinerary for counselors and other camp staff. In about fifteen minutes, dinner would be served in the mess hall.

Directly following that, there would be an orientation meeting in the meeting hall, a place where staff meetings usually took place. Assemblies with the campers were also held there. It ws in that hall that you would be forced to face people from your past. Namely, you’d have to face Jake again.

The thought made your stomach churn, and your hands tremble. But then, Bob’s gentle presence brought you back to the presence, and your racing heart calmed down a little.

He offered you a kind smile. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” you said with a nod.

Together, you walked out of that cabin and into the camp grounds, falling into silence as your steps synced up. There were so many things Bobby wanted to say, but he didn’t want to inundate you with questions and confessions, so he left it. He knew you had to be terribly overwhelmed as it was. He didn’t want to be the cause of more stress.

So, silence it was, all the way until you got to the mess hall. He stopped to open the door for you, and you hesitated.

“It’s okay,” he assured you. “I’ll be right here with you the whole time.”

You liked the sound of that.

So, with a deep breath and squared shoulders, you stepped through that door, entering the room. Dark wood stretched out before you. The mess hall was a similar design to the cabins, just much bigger. High ceilings with unfinished wooden beams. Wooden floors and walls. Dark green paint detailing. Windows on each wall to let in natural light. A large stone fireplace in the middle of the room.

It was very cozy, but as your gaze shifted to the table of faces to your left, you felt a chill run over you. Here goes nothing.

You appraoched the table, taking in each person seated there. At the head of the table was Pete Mitchell, Penny’s husband. He lifted his head and offered a smile, but you couldn’t quite place the look in his eyes. Beside him, Penny glanced up at you.

Then, to her right, you saw Natasha Trace. Another person you had once had a connection with. She was good friends with Bobby before you met him. The two of them had gone to school, and eventually college, together. Beside her was a woman you’d never seen before, but judging by the way Natasha held her hand, you inferred that they were in a relationship. It was no surprise to you. Nat had always made it clear that she only had eyes for women.

Then, on the other side of the woman was Mickey Garcia, another one of Bob’s good friends. His best friend, in fact. Mickey offered you a smile, and you took that as acceptance of you. He always had been rooting for you, all those summers ago.

Beside Mickey was Javy Machado. You couldn’t get a read on him. His face bore a neutral expression as he regarded you. Back then, he’d been best friends with Jake, and had therefore been completely on his side. You assumed the sentiment was still the same.

Then, of course, there was Bradley Bradshaw. He was Pete and Penny’s surrogate son, in a way. After Bradley’s mother died when he was a teenager, Pete had brought him on to learn how to run the camp. One day, he would take charge of the place, after the husband and wife duo retired.

All of them were seated around that table, but you noticed that one was missing. You had no idea where Jake was. Maybe he wasn’t joining everyone for dinner. Maybe he’d left. A part of you hoped so.

“Wanna sit here?” Bobby asked, motioning to two seats next to Bradley.

You nodded, and he pulled out your chair for you. Once you were seated, he took his own seat beside you, between Bradley and you. The other man leaned over the table, and you got a look at his face for the first time in six years. He’d lost his baby face, and was now sporting a defined jaw. A neatly kept mustache shadowed his upper lip. You thought it suited him. “Good to see you again,” he said.

Bradley’s statement seemed to break the ice, and a few murmurs of greeting echoed around the table. Even still, an air of awkwardness hovered over the group. You wanted to crawl out of your own skin. But you were here now, and there was no turning back.

The food was set up around the table like a regular family dinner. Simple foods. Sandwiches. Veggies and dip. Chips. You grabbed a sandwich, but you found your stomach in knots, and the thought of eating anything nauseated you.

“Well, Penny, you did it. Got us all to come back. Good on you,” Natasha spoke up.

Penny shrugged. “Pete and I have been talking about it for a while. I know the way things ended back in ‘80 was…bad, to say the least. But we really feel that this place has potential, and we could breathe new life into it.”

“What do the Seresins think about that?” Javy asked, his brow raised.

“We think it’s an okay idea,” a voice spoke up from across the room.

The group looked up all at once to see the man stepping through the door. You tensed, taking in a breath. Your heart rate picked up, thudding against your chest as the chill of anxiety crawled along your spine.

“Really?” Natasha piped up.

Jake nodded as he approached the group. “Yeah. Seeing as how Penny wants to dedicate this place to Missy. We all remember how much she loved it here. I firmly believe she’d want it to keep going.”

Penny smiled. “I’m glad we’re on the same page, Jake.”

He stopped at the empty end of the table, hands coming up to rest upon the back of the chair there. “But I do have one question.”

“What’s that?” The woman asked.

Jake smiled, but you could tell is wasn’t a real smile. In fact, when you looked at his eyes, the pale green was filled with snake’s venom. “What the fuck is she doing here?” He jabbed his finger in your direction, and you froze, your eyes growing wide.

That was more like the reaction you’d been expecting.

Penny faltered, her smile fading. Beside you, you felt Bob stiffen. But you didn’t dare pull your eyes away from Jake’s accusatory glare.

“I-I just thought that–”

“I don’t care. Look, Penny; I really appreciate you putting this all together, but in what world did you think it was okay to invite the person who had a hand in my sister’s disappearance?”

“She isn’t the one who wanted to invite her. I am.” Pete stood from his seat, his eyes narrow. “I thought that she deserved a second chance. And I wanted you to find it in yourself to allow her that chance.”

“Oh, really? What, is she gonna bring my sister back? Hm?” Jake’s gaze was so cold. You wished the ground would swallow you up. How on earth could you have thought this was a good idea?

“No, but–”

“If she stays, I’m refusing the dedication. She’s the reason I lost Missy. She doesn’t get to just stand there and pretend she’s sorry, while my parents and I are still grieving.”

Your eyes had blurred with tears, and your chest was tight. You should never have come.

But then, “leave ‘er alone, Jake.” Bobby stood up, facing the other man.

“Oh, you coming to her rescue is rich, Baby on Board. Wasn’t it your dick she was sucking when my kid sister went missing?”

The room went dead silent.

Bob took a breath. Then two. “Don’t you dare talk about her like that. She’s here, whether you like it or not. And she deserves another chance, just as much as anybody.”

“No, you know what? You’re right. This was a mistake. I should never have come,” you spoke up, rising from your chair.

But Bobby grabbed your arm. “No. Don’t let him drive you away.” His eyes were pleading.

You pulled away from his grasp, sadly shaking your head.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. Then you turned to Jake. “I wish I could bring your sister back. But I can’t. You need to know that I cared about her. And I should have been more thorough when I did bed check that night. I regret it every day, and I’ve lived with that guilt for the last six years. But my guilt is nothing compared to the loss you and your parents have had to endure. And for that, I’m so fucking sorry. I’ll leave, if that’s what you’d prefer. I never should have come in the first place.”

With that, you ducked your head, pushing your chair out of the way as you scrambled toward the exit. You could hear Bob calling your name, but you ignored him, your legs carrying you quickly toward the door. Your vision had tunneled, and your chest was heavy. You had to get out of that building. You felt like you were suffocating. Like someone had pulled a plastic bag over your face.

You threw your arms out in front of you and shoved the door open, letting out a great heaving sob as you stumbled down the front steps. You made it a few feet from the stairs before you leaned forward, hands braced on your knees as you fell apart.

“Oh, God!” You cried. You heard footsteps quickly approaching. It made you whirl around. “Just leave me the fuck alone!” Came your wail.

“No! I don’t care what he says, you deserve to be here!”

It was Bob, you realized.

“What do you want me to do, then?! He doesn’t want me here, Bob! And I never should’ve come. So just…just pull the truck around and I’ll get my luggage and get the fuck out of here.”

“No.”

“Either you take me back to the station, or I’ll get someone else to do it!”

“No other buses are running until tomorrow morning, so you can’t leave anyway! You’re stuck here for the night.”

“Goddammit!” You yelled. “I just want to leave!”

He grabbed you by the shoulders. “You’re not listening to me! I can’t handle watching you walk away from me again. I lost you once, and I’ll be damned if I let Jake Seresin be the reason I lose you again!”

And then, silence.

“Oh.”

He released your shoulders suddenly, his face stricken. “I-I’m sorry. I’m coming on way too strong. This is probably super overwhelming for you and I’m just making it worse.”

“No. No, you…you aren’t.” A pause. And then, “I don’t want to walk away from you again, either.”

“If you want to leave, then I’ll take you to the station tomorrow morning. But I just want you to try and stay. I know Jake doesn’t want you here, but I’m sure Pete can convince him to at least give you a chance.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

However, back inside the mess hall, a discussion was happening. “I’m sorry, Jake. I know we should have told you we invited her back. I take full responsibility for that oversight. But your parents…they knew she was coming. We checked with them beforehand. Your mom is of the belief that we should give her another chance.”

“What?” Jake asked, incredulous.

“Yeah. So, I know it’s hard for you, but if your mom is willing to forgive, then I’m going to respect that, and give this girl a chance. You know she’s lived with this guilt for so long. I think that’s punishment enough.”

The blonde sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t like it. If it was up to me, she’d be on the next Greyhound outta here. But if my mom wants her here…” He looked out the window, eyeing you and Bob as you spoke to each other. “It boggles my damn mind, but I’ll respect my mom’s wishes. That doesn’t mean I forgive her, though. I don’t think I ever will. But you go ahead and keep her on staff. Something tells me it ain’t gonna end well, but what do I know?”

And with that, Jake stalked off in a huff.

He swung the screen door open, and your head shot up, your eyes widening as you saw him coming down the steps. Bobby took a protective step toward you.

“You can stay,” Jake said as he walked past. “But only because my mom is the one who wanted you here.” Then he leaned in close. Well, as close as Bob would allow him to get. “But just know this. If you fuck up in any way, shape, or form, I’ll ship you back home myself. We clear?”

“Y-yes,” you responded with a curt nod.

“Good.”

And with that, Jake Seresin walked away.

You let out an unsteady breath, your shoulders slumping. Bobby looked at you, his gaze questioning. “What are you gonna do?”

You shook your head. “I…I don’t…”

“You don’t need to decide now. Just sleep on it. Make your decision with a fresh mind, alright?”

“Yeah,” came your whispered reply. “Yeah, that’s–that’s what I’ll do.”

He took his baseball cap off, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry. I know this is a lot for you. Do ya wanna just turn in early? I’m sure they’d understand if you skipped orientation.”

You considered his words, and finally, you shook your head. “No. I’ll, uh, I’ll try to go, and see how I do. But I think I’m going to just go and lay down for a while until then.”

“Want me to walk you back?”

“I’d like that.”

With a soft smile and a nod, Bobby began to guide you back toward the cabins. Your hands were shaking, and your head was spinning. It felt like someone had shoved their hands into your chest and taken hold of your lungs, squeezing them with all their might.

It was a painfully uncomfortable feeling, and you hoped that it would pass soon. But as long as you were here, in this place that held so many memories, it would probably remain a permanent fixture in your body. The only thing that soothed it was Bobby’s presence.

Even after all these years, and after the sour note you’d left him on, being near him still felt so comforting and peaceful. It was an odd, but welcome, sensation. You hadn’t expected it to be this way. When you thought of seeing him again, you imagined it would be painfully awkward, or that maybe he would refuse to speak to you.

But this was Robert Floyd you were talking about. He didn’t hold grudges. And if he did, then he’d been deeply hurt beyond repair. It was a relief to know that things were not beyond mending between you. At the moment, you were too overwhelmed and emotional to even consider what it might mean for you in the future. You were just grateful that he was near you again.

So much had changed. When you’d left him, he’d been more gangly. Twenty-two years old. Large wireframes perched atop his nose. All round cheeks and softer features. Now, he seemed a little taller. Or maybe, his slight bulk made him appear so. Gone were those gangly limbs, replaced with muscle that had been defined by physical labor.

His hands, though. His hands had stayed the same. They’d always been big, but he’d grown into them. They suited him now. Strong and steady. Farmer’s hands.

“You want me to come get you when it’s time for orientation?” The low cadence of his voice jarred you from your daydream.

“If you would? I forgot to pack my battery alarm clock, so have no way of keeping time.”

He nodded. “Sure. I can get ya one of those clocks. I actually have two, you can have one of mine.”

“You sure?”

“Yep, I don’t need two anyway. I’ll bring it to you later tonight.”

You shot him a grateful smile. “Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

Together, you stopped just outside your cabin, lingering at the foot of the stairs. Bob’s face was gentle, his eyes kind. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here. I know it’s a for you lot to be back here. And Jake didn’t help anythin’ by reacting the way he did. But if no one else is happy to see you, I want you to know that I am. I’ll respect whatever decision you make, but I really do hope you’ll stay.”

You considered his words, mulling them over in your mind. He didn’t expect you to decide at that very moment, and you knew your brain was too overworked to make that decision then as it was. So, the best you could do was nod your head. “I’ll see you in a bit, Bobby.”

He hummed, mouth quirking into a smile. “See you in a bit, Kit.”

You watched him walk away, his footsteps sure, his stance confident. He had a swagger to him that he didn’t have six years ago. It suited him well.

With a soft sigh, you finally turned and made your way into the cabin. As soon as the screen slammed behind you, you surged forward, collapsing into your bed, which was right near the door. Immediately, you buried your face in the pillow, and everything you’d been keeping inside came spilling out of you in bitter waves.

What had you gotten yourself into?

to be continued...

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#bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd smut #bob floyd angst #story: six summers

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imyourbratzdoll · 4 months

Text

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒋𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊’𝒔 𝒊𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒍𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒑𝒐𝒑 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒔

🍑peaches world (and the men that just exist in it) masterlist🍑

summary - we continue to see what happens, lloyd and his brother tangerine set off to rescue the princess (you), while ari treats you to something special.

warning - swearing, smut, oral sex, dubcon, word slut and whore used, cheating.

18+ only please, the gif isn't mine, header created by me.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

Word got around that the Princess had been kidnapped, Lloyd and Tangerine weren’t happy, immediately setting off to rescue you. They had journeyed through the islands, desperately trying to get to you as quickly as possible.

“Ugh! This is fucking impossible! That stupid fucking turtle!” Lloyd kicks a Goomba, sending it flying.

“Calm down, we will get her!” Tangerine punches his way through until they make the grave mistake of being touched, sending them back to the beginning again.

Back in the castle, you stare in disbelief as Bowser tears your clothes from your body. “My clothes! Why did you do that?!” Your hands fly in front of you as you try to hide yourself away.

Ari laughs, staring down at your naked form with lust-filled eyes. “Don’t be so innocent, Princess. I didn’t kidnap you just because you are the Princess of the Mushroom Kingdom.” He leans closer, causing you to pulse between your legs. “I know from a good source how slutty you are.” Ari runs his fingers up your body, between your breasts and cupping your neck softly. “You have fucked half of the Kingdom, including your partner’s brother and I’m not going to miss out.” Your eyes fall to his lips, watching as his tongue flicks out, licking them.

‘Damn it… How did he learn about that? Not even Lloyd knows!’ You think, feeling ashamed as you imagine how Ari would feel inside you.

He grips your chin, “So don’t play me a fool, little Princess. You should know the drill by now.” Your eyes widen when he whips out his cock, it’s so monstrous, large, and ridged, his mushroom tip red and angry. You could practically see it throbbing. “And we have plenty of time, Princess.” He forces your eyes up, leaning in closer as he whispers. “And if you refuse, I will bomb your kingdom and turn it into ashes!” He smirks. Ari pulls you closer, pressing his throbbing member against you. “So, you don’t have a choice! Seeing that your beloved Lloyd and his brother are useless because at this rate they won’t be here until next year.” He leans closer to your ear and whispers. “I recommend you don’t resist. Save your kingdom, little Princess.”

You whimper, hands covering your privates as he’s so close. ‘Damn it when I find out who told him I fucked half of the kingdom. I’ll cut their balls off.’ You sigh, looking up at him through your lashes, feeling slick gathering between your thighs as you feel his cock twitch against you. “Fine…”

Ari’s hands move to your shoulder’s, pushing you down onto your knees. “Fantastic, let’s not waste anytime, little Princess. C’mon, on your knees like the good little slut you are.”

“You don’t have to be so rude! I already said I’d do it!” You whine, eyes widening as it looks bigger up close.

“Mmhm, start sucking on my shaft, little Princess. You don’t want word to get around that you refused cock, do you?”

You put your hands on his thighs, looking up at him with furrowed brows as you speak. “Before I do anything, you must promise me you will not harm the Mushroom Kingdom and that whatever we do or whatever happens in this room will stay in this room! Deal?!”

Ari chuckles, shaking his head. “Deal. Now suck.” Your mouth opens, drool already seeping from the sides as his large member begins to push inside. “That’s it, little Princess… Open… Say ahhh…” His head falls back, eyes rolling as you begin to suck on his cock.

‘I can’t believe I am over here selling myself to save my kingdom while that fat arse and his brother are taking it easy. You better run Lloyd!’ You think, sucking harder, your eyes cross. ‘I can’t lie though, he tastes amazing… My pussy is throbbing so much, I just want him to use me.’

Your eyes slip closed, whines slipping out. ‘It’s too big! I can’t fit it in my mouth! Slow down you big brute!’ You continue to suck on his tip, swirling your tongue around.

“Come on, little Princess! Show me how good you suck cock!” His hands tangle in your hair, thrusting into your mouth, inching his cock deeper. “That’s it! Ahhh… Fuck, yes!” Ari moans, thrusting harder, holding your head. “Come on, c’mon!! More! More! Deeper!” He growls, your slurps filling the room as his cock continues to fill your mouth, causing your drool to rapidly seep out. “Take it all in! Go on, you little slut!”

‘Brute! So rude! It’s huge! I can’t! You are gonna choke me!’ You whine in your head, feeling your cunt drip as he forces his member deeper down your throat, stretching your mouth so wide. No other man or creature was ever this big.

“I’m gonna cum, little Princess! I’m going to cum so deep into your throat, you better swallow it like the good little slut you are! Fuck yes!” Ari’s balls tighten, your eyes cross as he thrusts deeper. “All the way in! Ahh fuck! Yesss, take my cum, little Princess!” Thick ropes spurt out of his mushroom tip, shooting into your mouth, coating everywhere. You begin to see stars, moans slipping from your lips as his cum continues to leak from his cock, a puddle beneath you forms from how slick your cunt is.

You pull back, accidentally swallowing it while the rest leaks out, covering your plump breasts. “You animal! You fucking brute! I almost choked!” You cough, glaring up at him, flustered. “You don’t do that to a lady!”

Ari laughs, his softened cock hangs still monstrous, leaking with cum. “Lloyd and the rest you have fucked must feel ridiculous compared to my cock!” He leans down, gripping your chin between his fingers as he stares deep into your eyes. “Don’t tell me you can’t take a cock like mine, little Princess. Maybe I should stretch your holes so when your little boyfriend finally arrives, he’ll know how much of a whore his girl really is.

You whimper, squeezing your thighs together. On the screen behind you, the brothers continue to fail, growing frustrated. Both thinking of sinking into your cunt once they finally rescue you.

would you like to follow the game? if yes, please click round 2 when the link is avaliable or if you want to start over, click start over.

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 - 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 2

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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taesankisser · 9 months

Text

HEY DARLIN’ (repost)

bf!seungmin x gf!reader (wc: 1k-ish)

summary: after a day full of stress and exhaustion, y/n goes home to her loving sweet boyfriend, who is always ready to comfort her <3

song rec: hey darlin by fantastics from exile tribe

warnings: disgustingly sweet fluff, lots of physical touch, mention of food, reader lies on top of minnie (?), tickling, they’re so in love it’s kinda yucky (being in love?? in this economy??)

today had been a hard day for so many reasons, and it seemed like it was just one thing after the other. you felt so frustrated with your circumstances and exhausted from the trouble that the day had brought you. all you wanted was to go home and melt into the arms of your loving boyfriend. you made your way up to your shared apartment thinking about how good it’s going to feel to finally be in his presence.

when you opened the door, there he was. sitting on the couch, waiting for you like he always did. your worries and stress from the day completely dissolved into nothing the second you laid eyes on him. he wasn’t even doing anything, just on the couch lounging around, but he already helped you feel better just by being there looking so content.

“welcome home!” he said calmly as he started getting up, probably to hug you. that was something you really cherished about him. he was always so relaxed and laid back. he was excited to see you, of course, but he never felt the need to make a big huge deal over it. he would always greet you gently and make an effort to make sure you got a welcome home hug. he was like the personification of comfort in your eyes, and you loved him so very much.

“no, no, stay, let me just-“ you said as you quickly set your things down, took your shoes off, and made your way to him. he gave you a confused look while halfway off the couch to which you just gave him a tired smile.

“puppy pile?” he questioned.

“puppy pile.” you affirmed his suspicion. he immediately relaxed his body into a comfortable position on the couch with his arms open, waiting for you again. you then straddled his waist, wrapped your arms around his body, and leaned your upper body against his. you fully hugged him with your head completely smushed into his neck.

“i’m in love with you.” you admitted to the boy beneath you as you tried to hold him tighter as if he was going to disappear suddenly. you felt his chest rumble as he began to laugh sweetly at you. you felt your heart pound at the sound, at the feeling. it was one of your favorite things while cuddling to be able to feel him laugh. it was a moment that was so intimate, so precious to you.

“i won’t be able to breathe if you hold me any tighter, baby”

“close isn’t close enough.” you pouted into his neck, while he smiled at you.

“i agree, but i also need to breathe!” he continued to laugh at you.

“if you hate me just say it, kim seungmin.”

“i love you, y/n” he said as he looked down at you with such sincerity in his eyes and a lovestruck grin plastered on his face. you looked up at him and saw the look of pure adoration in his eyes. you felt so loved that it made you shy, so you started giggling, then squeaked out an “i know” back to him. you snuggled into him again, while he gently rubbed your back. you wish you could bottle this moment and keep forever. this is exactly what you needed after the kind of day you had. you were so grateful you could always count on seungmin to be there to bring you peace.

the two of you lied like that for a while, basking in each other’s touch without feeling the need to say much. you were home. physically, yes you were definitely at home, but mentally your home wasn’t just a place. your home was kim seungmin. he was your safe person, and the reason for your happiness. every stressor lost its meaning when you were with him. when you were with your home, you had nothing to worry about. he was someone that made you stay in the moment, he kept you so grounded. you felt like nothing could hurt you, no matter emotionally or physically, when you had him by your side. you were deep in thought, thinking about how much the man beneath you meant to you, when he tore you from it all.

“y/n, should we eat something? it’s dinner time!” he said as he checked his phone, you two had been lying there for much longer than you thought.

“oh yeah, we probably should!”

“what would you like, my love?”

“doesn’t matter to me!”

“how about your favorite?”

“ugh, kim seungmin, you’re the man of my dreams”

“i know right?” he responded with a smirk and you gasped in shock at him. he always had so much audacity it caught you off guard sometimes. you gently tapped him on the head as a way to reprimand him.

“watch it, i might fall out of love with you.”

“that’s literally impossible.”

“i mean-”

“i’m right, admit it!”

“no!”

“i am so right!”

“nuh-uh”

“yuh-huh” he made an exaggerated facial expression at your refusal. the whole thing just made you two break out in giggles.

“you love me. you’re sooo in love with me!” he said as he stuck his tongue out.

“yeah right!” you lied through your teeth. he was absolutely correct, and knew it too.

“i know what will get the truth out of you.” he said as he sat up, which made you sit up on his lap, and you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“what?”

“i have a way-”

“NO PLEASE!”

“WITH TORTURE!” he said as he switched your positions so you were underneath him. he straddled your own body, so you had no way of moving, then began ruthlessly tickling you. you couldn’t stop laughing, it was almost painful, but you enjoyed every second of this moment with the person you loved the most.

“SAY IT! admit you love me!”

“NO!”

“say it or else!” he said as he persisted his tickle attack. he got a specifically sensitive spot that made you cave.

“OKAY! ENOUGH! I’M DYING! i love you or whatever.”

“or whatever? you’re so lame.” he said as he made a displeased face and continued his torture. the whole time, though, you were laughing.

“i love you, kim seungmin.”

“as you should.” he nodded as he stopped his attack and leaned down to kiss you. you didn’t have time to react to his matter-of-fact statement as he kissed you. his lips felt heavenly on yours. you melted into the kiss, into him, and were reminded of the fact that everything will be okay. everything will be okay because you have him by your side, and that’s more than enough.

END!

author’s note: u guys liked this sm on my old acc that i just had to repost it so it wasn’t gone forever! hehe i hope you enjoy and have a great day/night!

-lots of love, solar

#seungmin x reader #seungmin fluff #seungmin oneshot #seungmin x y/n #skz fanfic #stray kids #stray kids fanfic #kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin fluff #seungmin #kim seungmin #seungmin fanfic #kim seungmin fanfic

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ladymirdan · 4 months

Text

Warning, fandom rant.

I was gonna piggyback ride off Tagedezorns post about falling out of love with the fandom.

Dont get me wrong, I still fucking LOVE 40k.

Im having a great time painting my minis, reading the lore, reading and talking with the BL authors on twitter or talking the ears off the staff in my local GW (don't worry, they love it, and they have some fantastic HC’s too!)

But the rest of it is sadly losing its appeal for me as well, and it saddens me to see other fan artists or writers feeling the same, I thought it was just me.

When I first started to become active in the shipping fandom about a couple of years ago it was fantastic. I felt so welcome and wanted, I had never gotten a reception like that in any fandom before. I even faced my fear and started writing fanfiction, and people seemed to love it.

But the last months/year it feels like it's all gone. As if Tumblr has died, it feels like I'm shouting into the void. (I have a few people who still interact on my posts and I see you and I love you). But I have eightdoubled my followers last year, but that hasn't resulted in any more interaction, other than a few more likes. But to be fair, likes does nothing.

Im not an influencer or a content creator, and I have zero aspirations to become one. That is why I stopped doing tiktoks. I do not want to chase trends or algorithms, I want to be unhinged about my blorbos and see people being unhinged about their blorbos in turn.

I love the intense passion fandom can have, even when it's not a character I'm personally into.

I really don't want Tumblr to die. I have tried Discord and it was the most alienating and disheartening experience I've had since like high school.

When I first tried it out it was soo much fun, but as time went on, more and more people who seemed to like me stopped posting on there, and more and more whenever I posted I just got straight up ignored.

I could post in a channel that had been dead for weeks, and suddenly people started posting about other things, everyone ignoring what I wrote. If it happened once or twice I wouldn't have bothered, but a dozen or more times? It just fucking sucks. I noticed how it started affecting my mental health, trying to reach out and talk to people, but just being talked around and over. So I just stopped posting.

If someone doesn't like me on Tumblr I won't notice or get sad, but seeing it happen in real-time just fucking sucks.

And also, on Tumblr there is always the off chance that your post gets necromanced. That just doesn't happen on Discord.

And another thing that has happened a lot is I write a fic or a Tumblr post. It gets zero interaction, and I'm like “oh I guess no one is interested about that,” and then I see that someone has just reposted my fic/post in a discord and people are geeking out over it over there.

I'm not a paid artist/writer. I do what I do because I want to geek out over something, preferably with someone else. But I effectively become removed from my art. People are discussing it, just not with me.

Dealing with being unliked as a person fucking sucks. Especially when it's supposed to be your hobby-fun-time. And it is making me not want to post stuff anymore.

#fandom rant #40k #warhammer 40k

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justalonelyslytherin · 1 year

Text

Happy Father's Day - Lloyd Hansen

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x female Reader

Warnings: cursing, violence, gun handling and shooting, death, blood, insinuation/mention of hurting and/or killing a child

Wordcount: 3.9k

If you enjoyed reading this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging. I don’t allow for my content to be copied, translated, or reposted on other websites/apps. Please don’t steal my work.

A/N: Another one of the longer ones in this series. Writing Lloyd was so much fun. And I really enjoyed this scenario and the open end, if Reader and Lloyd will get along or not. Part of the ‘Happy Father’s Day’ series. Dividers by the fantastic @/firefly-graphics

Footsteps echoed through the empty hall, drawing nearer until the door swung open. A figure walked into the office.

“You are late.”

Carmichael, who had been sitting in his chair and watching the arriving car through the dimmed window, turned around.

“Yeah well, I didn’t want to be here.”

“It’ll be worth your expenditure.”

“You better be paying me good for this. Summoning me here, you are becoming flamboyant. I could be otherwise entertained.”

“As always. You should know better of me.” Carmichael pursed his lips, glancing at the other man over his glasses. “This one is a special mission.”

“Are you finally getting rid of Susan, that frigid bitch?”

“No. But similar. I wanted to see your reaction myself.”

“And once you're finished we’ll have a drink together. Like the good old times.”

Lloyd raised an eyebrow as Carmichael opened a drawer. Withdrawing the file in an exaggerated motion, he held it in the air. It was inconspicuous. Like any other file the CIA used on their targets.

With a heavy thud it landed on the dark wooden desk, the noise reverberated through the dim office. Licking his lips and cocking his hip out, Lloyd took a lazy step forward. He swiped the file up in one smooth motion. Opening it, he was greeted with a picture.

Lloyd’s grip tightened around the file, the etches crinkling. His jaw ticked, square, and ready to snap as he eyed the contents.

“Her?” He asked after a tense, long silence.

“Her,” Carmichael confirmed. He leaned forward in his seat, elbows placed on the edge of the desk, “I want her disposed of.”

“Any particular reason?” Lloyd lilted lazily, eyes dragging over the file towards the other man. He didn’t need to read the print, he had committed it to memory a long time ago.

“None that should matter to you. I thought you might like to do it yourself. Since you two have…history.”

Huffing he let the file drop onto the desk, the smack reverberated through the office. A devilish, hungry grin spread over Lloyd’s lips.

“It’ll be my pleasure.”

Today had felt like an ordinary day to her, but if she knew one thing it was that there were no ordinary days.

There were quiet days and then there were hectic days. There were days when everything went according to plan and days when everything went wrong. There were days in which she’d been safe and days in which she’d nearly died.

The latter ones were now few and far between. Once it was her day-to-day, her nine-to-five. It was behind her now for most of it.

But as a seasoned agent, she should have known nothing ever truly stayed gone and that especially as someone in the intelligence industry there was no such simple thing as retirement.

Dying was your retirement.

The house was quiet when she arrived home. Something wasn’t right. It felt deadly quiet, not even the usual noise from the neighbors or cars passing over the street was there. It was too quiet.

Her days in the field might have laid behind her but her instincts were still as sharp. And so was her habit of still carrying a weapon with her at all times. As silently as she could, she put her purse beside the front door, moving slowly and carefully. Squatting, she drew her gun from inside the bag.

The entryway was clear and so was the office she never used. When she walked through the living room, clearing it as well, gaze moving into the adjacent, open kitchen she froze. Halfway hidden behind the kitchen counter lay a body on the floor. Rosa. Her household help. Face down, in a puddle of her own blood, unmoving.

Rushing over, there was nothing she still could have done for the nice lady she’d become friends with. She wasn’t long dead, body and blood felt warm.

Then she heard it. A creek. Snapping her head towards the ceiling she listened. When another creek sounded, she bounded to the stairs. Taking two steps at a time she rushed up.

On the second level, she ignored most of the doors, bypassing clearing each room in favor of getting to the most important of it all. At the far end of the hallway was a cream-colored door, opened just a slit. A soft melody played, faintly echoing through the hallway. She’d closed that door just before she left the house.

The door swung open, barely stopping before it hit the wall as she barged in, gun drawn high. She pointed the barrel at the figure standing on the other side of the room, looming above a baby bed.

“Hands up where I can see them and step the fuck away from the cradle!” Her voice was firm but there was the hint of a shake looming close.

The figure stayed relaxed, slowly raising his hands. There was a big gun in his right hand, making her grit her teeth as her heart dropped. Hopefully, she wasn’t too late already. Please, don’t let her be too late. Her grip around her gun tightened as the person turned around.

Shock coursed through her, almost making her forget what was going on. Almost.

“Lloyd.”

He grinned at her, “Hello Sunshine.”

The pet name rolled off his tongue so smoothly as if not a single day had gone by. It didn’t trick her, it was a farce and so she kept her guard up and the gun centered on his chest. Not that Lloyd could have cared for any of it. That grin, that split his lips and pulled at his mustache mocked her together with the glint in his eyes. The amusement was highly evident on his face.

“You sneaky little thing, aren’t you?” He made a show of trailing his gaze through the room before he continued, “A safe house – that’s not so safe anymore – and a baby?”

His laugh made her skin crawl.

“I didn’t peg you for the chick that would let herself get stuck with a brat,” he taunted and she rolled her eyes. “Although I would have enjoyed being the one to fuck one into you.”

“Step away from her,” she demanded, unreactive to his jabs. He wanted to provoke her but she wouldn’t grant him that pleasure.

Lloyd looked behind him toward the crib in which her baby was peacefully sleeping. “And what if I don’t? You shoot me? Shoot in the direction of your darling?” Her eyes flickered to the crib behind him, just for a moment. Enough to confirm he was right. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t.

“As I thought,” he hummed, slowly putting his hands down.

She’d just lost her advantage, her threat. The gun in her hands was useless if she couldn’t – wouldn’t – use it to actually shoot him. It was just a show and he could do and please how he wanted without her being able to prevent it.

“I have to give you that: She is cute as a bug.” Her heart nearly gave out as Lloyd turned around again and leaned over the crib. He was reaching down, his fingers running over the baby's smooth dark hair and soft cheek. As his pinky ring graced her cheek, the cold sensation of the metal on her skin made her frown. It caused his lip to quip upward.

With his other hand – the one holding the large gun – he leaned down too. The nose of the gun softly traced along her little tummy.

It made her breath hitch, instinctively she took a step forward. A mistake as Lloyd’s head cocked back at her. There was enjoyment glinting in his eyes. He loved games like this, toying with people’s emotions, but most of all with their fear.

“Oh look at you, all momma-bear. Am I driving you crazy with concern huh?” He was having the time of his life.

“What will you do?” he wanted to know, taunting once more, “I could shoot her right now and you wouldn’t be able to stop me.”

He was right. She wouldn’t be able to cross the room fast enough to prevent him from pulling the trigger or ripping the gun up and away from her child.

“Step away from her,” she demanded, voice shaking with equal amounts of rage and concern. It was an empty demand. What threat did she have against him? What options to stop him? Her words made him laugh.

“Give me one good reason why I should do that instead of pulling my trigger right now?”

“Because she is yours.”

Lloyd raised an eyebrow, beneath his long lashes his eyes dilated in surprise but also in glee. Once more he started laughing. A full belly laugh this time. So much he had to wipe away tears pooling at the corners of his eyes.

“That’s a good one, sunshine.” But she stayed unwaveringly serious. Lloyd eyed that as well. Straightening up he took in the sleeping baby closely.

“Oh, are you serious?” The amusement was still there but now there was a hint of seriousness in his tone as well.

“Her?” He pointed towards the cradle. “Mine?”

Reluctantly she nodded. There was a brief moment in which Lloyd turned solemnly serious, a moment in which he seemed to contemplate it all. Then his face twisted in rage. In a split second, he lunged at her.

She was slammed to the floor, him above her as her gun skidded over the ground, out of her reach. His hands wrapped around her throat, strong hands unrelenting. The air was pushed out of her lungs as he choked her. Wrapping her hands around his forearms, she tried to stop him but there was no point. He was too strong.

“You little bitch.” Lloyd was seething. Spitting as he looked at her like an animal gone wild. “You are enjoying this aren’t you?”

“Greedy little slut, took everything you could get your hands on, didn’t you? Even a baby!” Her mind was reeling, both from the lack of oxygen and his words. They didn’t make sense. She hadn’t taken anything from him. It wasn’t like she had tried to get him to knock her up and then vanish.

Even with the blood rushing in her ears and the black rims growing at the edges of her vision she couldn’t get his hands off her. But maybe getting his hands off her neck wasn’t what she should focus on. With what quickly draining strength she had still left in her, she started squirming under him.

She couldn’t die right now. Not like this. There was no way in hell she would leave her daughter to Lloyd’s mercy.

“You are a twisted, backstabbing–” Mustering enough strength she managed to kick him in the balls, hard enough to sway him for a moment. It was only a short moment but it was enough to kick him off her and send him to the side.

She coughed and wheezed, greedily sucking in as much air as she could. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed him sit up, brushing a hand over his mouth. It came away with a streak of blood.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” She wheezed, turning to her side, all the while her eyes roamed through the room, looking for her gun.

“You were the reason the CIA kicked me out! Not that I would have enjoyed being in that constringent shithole with their stupid rules. I’m much freer where I am now but that doesn’t change the fact you betrayed me!”

What?

“I didn’t!” She watched him try to stand up and so she swiped her leg out, ripping his feet out from underneath him. He smacked against the floor as she continued, “I didn’t even know you were kicked out! No one would tell me anything about what happened. You were simply gone!”

“Liar,” he roared, looking at her with rage. Seeing his rage was nothing new, but this was the first time it was focused on her.

“I thought you were dead!”, she roared back, “It took me weeks with no success until I found out– … until I found out I was pregnant. Only when I went to Fitzroy did he tell me you got kicked out.”

“Bullshit! Someone ratted me out! Who was it then?”

“Who? I'll tell you who! Your buddy, fucking, Carmichael!”

There was a fire burning in Lloyds eyes and with newfound vigor, he pushed to his feet. Scrambling, she looked around the room, frantically trying to find her gun. She needed to reach her gun before Lloyd could reach his.

“He never liked me, Lloyd. He always hated that I was by your side. That ass was always jealous of what we – you – had since college! He couldn’t stand that I was taking you away from him, don’t you understand?!”

Lloyd had never seen the clear disdain with which Carmichael had regarded her. The poorly hidden hatred and animosity.

She’d stalled him long enough to locate her gun in the room, just as Lloyd had risen to his feet and centered his attention on his gun – much closer than hers. Their eyes crossed as a mutual realization set in. They had the same plan and they both needed to stop the other. There was a second in which neither one of them moved. Then, jumping around she scrambled for her gun. Nearly there, only millimeters from grasping it in her hand, her fingers brushing the cool plastic, a hand wrapped around her ankle. With a violent jerk, she was yanked back. Not without a fight. Her kicking was fruitless, Lloyd’s hand stayed around her foot like a vice. It was to no avail.

He was pulling her back until she lay under him and Lloyd pinned her to the ground with his knees and hands. His gun was pointed at her. The click of the bullet slipping into the barrel had her deflate.

All the fight rapidly left as she realized: she’d lost.

“Don’t kill her,” she whispered, eyes dimmed in grief. She pleaded with him, “Don’t punish her for what you believe me to have done.” In a violent lurch her face whipped to the side, the sound of his backhanded slap echoing in her ears. The metallic taste of blood spread in her mouth.

It didn’t stop her from continuing, “Look after her.

At least find her a safe place with a new family if you don’t want her.”

This raging fire kept burning in his eyes as Lloyd centered the barrel of his gun to her forehead. Cold metal touched her skin, creating a burning halo. She wouldn’t close her eyes. No, she chose to keep looking into his, waiting for her inevitable end.

When the trigger got pulled, the shot rang out loudly above her but the bullet never hit.

No longer was the gun pointed at her but at the door, she’d burst through not long ago. Ripping her eyes away from the gun, she focused back on Lloyd. He was already looking down at her, his jaw clenched and lips pursed.

Behind them – in the cradle – their baby started to wail.

In his hands, Carmichael held a couple of pictures. A drone shot from a burned-down house. Multiple from the burned-down interior of said house. And one of a corpse burned so badly she was unrecognizable.

The door to his office opened up without premonition.

“Well done.” Putting the pictures down the man with the glasses looked up.

“How did it feel?” “Satisfying,” Lloyd mused, hands loosely clasped behind his back as he whipped on his feet.

“So the bitch got what she deserved.” Carmichael looked pleased, a sly grin formed on his usually composed and unhappy-looking face. “You know I never trusted her. Always knew there was something off with her.”

“She was a rotten apple from the beginning.” “Was she?” Lloyd asked with ease. “Why’d you never say something then?”

“I wanted you to have your fun with her. I thought that’s all she was to you anyway.”

Nodding Lloyd hummed, “She was a pretty good fuck.”

In the end, Carmichael stood up, walking towards a sideboard with glasses and a bottle of expensive alcohol. “Let’s drink to that.” He poured some into the two glasses, the trickle of the liquid sloshing the only sound.

“A toast,” he said, turning around with the two glasses in his hand. One held out towards Lloyd, the other comfortably nestled in his own. “To the two of us. That no woman will ever be worthy to come between us.”

Lloyd was now directly in front of him. Before he could register the thing shoved against his chest, the muffled sound of a shot rang out. The glasses toppled from his hands, their golden liquid soaked the carpet beneath his feet. He could only glance at the gun between them in shock. The gun Lloyd had aimed and fired at his chest.

“The bitch is indeed getting what he deserves.”

Lloyd’s mustache quirked up, revealing the grin on his lips as Carmichael stumbled and slid down the sideboard. Sitting before him, the man's blood mixed with the carpet.

“You should have never come between me and her.” It was the last thing Lloyd whispered, watching as the light left the man's eyes.

Picking up one of the two glasses, Lloyd eyed the remains of the liquid in the crystal clear cup. He downed it in one swift gulp.

“Happy Father’s Day to me.”

Outside the office, Carmichael’s men lay slumped over. Dead too. Lloyd stepped over them, wasting no glance back as he walked on.

Behind the corner at the end of the hallway, a figure awaited. Fitzroy. The older man had his hands shoved into his pockets as he watched him approach. Both men looked at one another, unable to stand their opposite but still working together. An Exception.

“You better treat her right,” Fitzroy was serious, looking down on him with disdain. “Or I’ll come to get her and my granddaughter and you’ll be dead.”

The words didn’t impress Lloyd. It was a real threat. Fitzroy still had his trumps and his ways to win over Lloyd.

Yet he calmly and dryly answered, “She isn’t your granddaughter.”

“No, but she is as good as.

I was the only one there for them, during the pregnancy and when she gave birth to that sweet little angel.”

It was a carefully calculated attack, the words meant to cut deep. Lloyd didn’t say anything to that. He walked past the man without another word. Outside a car waited for him already, driving away the moment he sat inside.

High-pitched coos and unintelligible babbling littered the air as she held her daughter in her arms softly swaying her from side to side. Her heart fluttered as she took in the chubby cheeks and long lashes.

“We still have to get used to our new home, don’t we?” She mumbled against the soft tuft of hair dusted along her daughter’s head. Her little head couldn’t stop turning around, not nearly fast enough to follow her curious eyes.

“It’s so big.” Her little one cooed in agreement, even though she likely couldn’t understand her yet. Taking in the huge room they were in, big still felt like an understatement. The improvised baby room looked anything but suited for a baby. The luxurious theme felt overpowering, just like the rest of the castle did. Adjusting from a comfortable little two-story house to a castle with rooms in the hundreds would take time.

“Who would have thought your dad would show up to join your life.”

There was still a part of her that didn’t want to believe it and a part of her that mistrusted Lloyd. Her lip and back still ached from the fight, the memories of him pointing his gun not only at her but at the baby and threatening to shoot fresh in her mind. Too fresh perhaps.

Lloyd had changed from wanting to kill her to wanting to protect her and their daughter in less than a minute. A split-second decision that otherwise would have found her with a bullet in the head and her daughter orphaned.

A noise from the outside alerted her. It drew her to the big window so they could watch what was happening outside. Together they eyed the black SUV drive over the gravel of the huge driveway, fast approaching the house. When the car stopped just before the entrance and Lloyd stepped out of the car, she sighed.

“Speaking of the devil,” muttering to her daughter, she pressed a kiss against her head. The baby coed once more and babbled happily in her arms. Clumsy little fingers gripped her sleeve.

“Sunshine! I’m back!”

Not a moment later Lloyd’s loud voice boomed through the house. One might think that with its size his voice would get drowned out. It didn’t take him long to reach the room and push the door open. Once his eyes settled on the two of them, still close to the window a grin appeared on his face.

“There they are!” Striding over he stopped shortly in front of them as his eyes settled on the toddler.

“Bug.” She rolled her eyes at his newly proclaimed nickname for his daughter. Her eyes followed his hands, reaching out and demanding to hold the baby. For a moment she hesitated to pass her over. Lloyd’s eyes jumped to her, narrowing slightly but ultimately he dropped his hands to his side.

Not for long. Just as quickly as he had folded his hands found her waist. Rather forcefully she was turned around, gazing back out of the window.

“You’ll start to trust me again.” His voice murmured into her ear as Lloyd settled behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist. Her back was pressed against his front. Resting his chin against her shoulder, he nosed along her neck, whispering more words into her ear.

“And maybe by the next Father’s Day, I’ve fucked another one into you already.”

She scoffed, lips twitching upward in a smile as she glanced back at him, “In your dreams. How about you learn to handle your existing daughter first. She’s already got your temper when she is tired and cranky, by that time next year she’ll likely have reached the terrible twos.”

BONUS:

“If I find out you lied to me,” Lloyd threatened as he stood up, still looking down at her. He nodded towards his gun.

“Why would I?” Scoffing, she too slowly sat up and wiped away the blood from her mouth. “I would have never betrayed you, I loved you.”

Something in the way he laughed so dryly deeply hurt her. Her eyes were turned downwards as she got up. When she stood in front of him, face to face, her expression remained unchanged and just as solemn.

“You are serious?”

“Is it so hard to believe? My future was yours.”

She was about to breeze past him and towards the cradle, towards her crying daughter when he stopped her. His hand wrapped around her biceps.

“Looks like you are getting what you wanted in the end,” he rumbled into her ear. Then he dropped his hand. “Calm her down, take whatever you need for her, and be done with it in five minutes.”

He didn’t leave the room while she did so, hovering beside the door with his arms crossed, holding onto the gun as he watched.

#lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x female reader #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen x fic #lloyd hansen imagine #lloyd hansen fanfiction #sly writes

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songfell-ut · 1 month

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Songfell anniversary post, pt 1

Eyyy so four years ago today, I posted the first three chapters of my story on AO3, having seen an unfinished comic and gotten permission from the artist to write a fic using her premise. This here is the first piece of Songfell art ever, commission from the OG comic creator, @lostmypotatoes 👌

So! I am not posting any new content for the moment. My mom has been having health problems, including me having to help take her to the ER (she's fine, just needs to stay in bed for a while), which delays actual writings a bit. What I am doing is reposting art from four years of Tumblr! C'mon down memory lane, wheeeeee

(Part 2, Part 3)

This is going to be in VERY VERY approximate chronological order as it depicts stuff in the story. Stuff with no set place in the story will be guesstimated because I have that power ah ha ha ha ha

Disclaimer: I've pulled all of these from posts or reblogs made by this specific blog. If I didn't see or repost any Songfell art you've done, especially for the videos, I did not leave it out on purpose. I threw in exactly one image from Discord for the sake of completing a set, but that was it.

In cases of multiple...okay it's just the fork scene that has multiple iterations because everyone liked it, but besides the opening one here (which is still my AO3 pfp!), the one that was the first piece of non-commissioned art I ever got will be first. Enjoy!

This was the first non-potatoes art in the videos, I believe, done by the superlative @venelona (probably the most prolific of the arts on here), when somebody realizes he's gonna lose 😘

The collection skips ahead to Sans contemplating killing the nice lady and then totally randomly thinking of Kris instead, by @mambourin D: But whaddya know--

See? That's the sound of losing, son

That's the sight of losing, by @sharkowskii, whose work speaks for itself. Here's the whole thing, colored fantastically by Vene.

Know what else they did together, and happens once he's been knocked out?

(Look at this so good holy shit) Frisk's had a bit of a tired, scared cry in the hall, and it's time to face her new guest head-on.

I lost my mind at least a little bit when I first saw these, ngl. I can't find the next page that she did for the compiled "movie" video 😢 But now we're coming up on a fun bit of Songfell lore!

I was scrolling through Tumblr and glanced over what looked like a picture of my Frisk ha ha that was kind of VENELONA DID A THING WAIT WHAT

First ever fanart, that's what. We have a High Priestess who is completely done with his goddamn nonsense, and

Pictured: goddamned nonsense. N-Not like he LIKES you, baka

Aaand here's my Discord pfp, by @xxkoichiixx (who seems not to be on here anymore D:).

And here's a very plausible alternate outcome by @vafro1.

Though this was a bit more like it, thanks to @naomyart.

Oh look a distraction after he was stupid what are the odds (Catler1!)

Last and never least (none of you are >:( so there), puns are dumb and it turns out they're into it. The End...for now

...

Bonus outtake recording illustration from @dale-the-human

#songfell #songfell anniversary post #dale's dogs fearlessly protect her against useable audio

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vs120shound · 3 months

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SF is really just like the rest of life: There's the good; and there's the bad. We are sharing sad news . . . BUT the glass is half full! We lost a sensational YouTube page overnight but a replacement is planned!

SAYING 'GOODBYE' TO AN OLD FRIEND, 'HELLO' TO A REPLACEMENT SOON!

★ ★ ★ ★ | Four "Stars" | 🙁

From IG@bobby_a_smoking | ★★★★☆ (L)

Dual-Media 7-Pack Megapost!

NICE TIME FOR A DEBUT . . . SOME 15 YEARS LATER!

We lead our significant and depressing announcement with the debut ⏤ of course long overdue; is there any other kind? ⏤ of Jenni Watkins from Smoking-Models (U.K.). This video was posted on Social Media by an SF force, "Bobby A," under its IG handle Instagram@bobby_a_smoking. Hours ago, its wonderful and longterm YouTube page, "Bobby A Smoking Videos" met its demise; it was terminated, de-activated . . . swimming with the fishes alongside Luca Brazi (if you are familiar with the original Godfather movie)!

. . . well, it was arranged for Jenni to participate in six videos for James, the web-master/web producer for Smoking-Models (U.K.) and Elegant Smoking. This video was dated on September 14, 2009. But it was posted to IG@bobby_a_smoking on January 14, 2024. Jenni made three other videos for S-M and did two for ES, each of which was produced and released in 2009.

Here is what Bobby A. received via e-mail from YT administrators:

. . . and so on and so forth. Here is his note accompanying the post of his notification from YouTube on his IG account:

"Unfortunately, YouTube has made the decision to remove my channel from YouTube and I will be working on creating a new YouTube channel in the coming days and reposting video clips that I previously posted and I will post the link in my profile on here and then spread the the word to everyone. Many thanks."

Here is our post, a comment (followup) on Smoking Fetish Kingdom ⏤ where we read an announcement of the "Bobby A" termination late at night on January 13, 2024 ⏤ at 10:19 a.m. EST (011424):

"Thanks for posting, fetishaddict. Discovered myself last night after 2 a.m. EST. Talk about a terrible way to end a day of SF! Tamig's point is well taken but I must argue. This is arbitrary. Almost all of SF on the World Wide Webs ⏤ mainly on SFK, YouTube and my personal haven, tumblr ⏤ is copyright infringement. 95 percent of it, no? And what about everything off Instagram and other Social Media/Social Network platforms. Pirating makes "P" the middle initial in Smoking Fetish, invisible, I know but we are SPF . . . Smoking Pirating Fetish. The truth. Loved Bobby A's YouTube page. Great. Wonderful for Specialized Videos (that's defunct, that's copyright infringement? . . . don't have a legal background/training) and Random Snaps. Hope he resurfaces on YouTube. As of now, this is a horrifying, dreadful loss within the Greater SF World Community scene, or is it the Greater SPF World Community scene. We will all soldier on . . . what else can we do? Give up on our fix of SF (SPF!)?"

And now, the "cart" after "the horse" ⏤ the announcement on SFK from "fetishaddict" at 8:19 a.m. EST on January 14, 2024:

"Wow! This really sucks. Fantastic poster and excellent resource. Terrible day for the SF community!"

The "fetishaddict" post on SFK provided a link to an admiring rival on YouTube, "Fdtccnnbrow" from January 14, 2024 . . .

youtube

And for those who cannot open up and play the "Fdtccnnbrow" tribute video, this is what Fdtccnnbrow wrote about "Bobby A:"

"Bobby A, the greatest smoking Youtuber of all time, was banned today. If you go to his old channel link there's a reason listed. I dunno. "I was given a content strike when I uploaded Leah and Shalini [of Specialized Videos]. You can see like half of a side-boob in a scene with a bubble bath. I didn't think it was that bad, but Youtube came back like if you do that again you'll be banned. "I saw last night Bobby had some videos lined up for the regular Saturday drop. Nothing looked scandalous to me, but if you fuck up just a little bit and just two times you can get wiped out. "He had the best channel. He has way more unique Specialized videos than me [Fdtccnnbrow has plenty of SV content] and he shared them with all of us. He gave me Compilations 35 and 38 for nothing. I had never seen them uploaded anywhere since the site collapsed like 10 years ago and Bobby was like here you go. "He even had Leah from Specialized comment on a few of his videos. Those comments have been deleted into nothing, which means there is an actual legend you can tell about Bobby's channel. His channel is literally legendary."

Bobby A's Taste in SF Photographs! (Posted on to its Instagram Page)!

From Instagram@bobby_a_smoking . . .

IG@bobby_a_smoking's SF models, listed clockwise: Tammy of R.S.; Laura, our favorite SF model of all-time, of R.S.; Amber of USA Smokers (Arizona, U.S.A.) in the picture in which she is prettier than how she appears in all other photos of her; Maddie of the Frida & Maddie Show of R.S. fame; Kristi of USA Smokers; Skye of R.S. (Australia; self-de-activated)!

#SF #Hot women who love smoking cigarettes #Smoking cigarettes #Smoking #YouTube's “Bobby A Smoking Videos” (defunct)!#Instagram@bobby_a_smoking!

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the-creative-lounge-blog · 2 months

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The video features custom community emojis by @azuzeldraws

We're ready for you to join The Creative Lounge Discord Community!

Community rules & guidelines are below the cut for anyone who'd like to preview them before joining.

Members must be at least 18 years old.

The Creative Lounge Community Invite

The Creative Lounge is a Discord community of creators and lovers of different genres, crafts, and talents that, together, foster a positive creative environment.

A good portion of this community is dedicated to content creators who work with different mediums. That's by design. We inspire one another and often collaborate. I hope The Lounge makes it easier to do both!

There's also room in here to play. I'm arranging the ability to stream art and video games in here, as well as host virtual tabletop games (these adventures are fantastic fodder for art, animation, stories, and audio works)!

Art and storytelling have been part of the human experience since our beginnings. They withstand disease, war, natural and unnatural catastrophes, and most impressively, time. Be proud of what you contribute.

Community Rules & Guidelines:

Rule #1: Be Aware. This is a shared space. You must be at least 18 years old to join this server. Individuals from all places and all walks of life congregate here. The sharing of personal information (name, location, etc.) is discouraged. Don't share personal images of anyone under the age of 18.

Rule #2: Be Respectful. Any disputes between members ought to be resolved privately. Disruptive behavior is not tolerated! No racism, sexism, hate speech, trolling, abuse, spam, picking fights, harassment, etc. Direct and indirect threats towards any other person are strictly prohibited and will incur an instant ban. Avoid discussing sensitive topics (examples: religion, politics). Try to keep the conversation relevant to the channel you are in. This is a multi-fandom, multi-shipping community. Hate directed at fandoms, characters, or ships is not allowed. While age gap ships are welcome, teacher/student ships are not (if characters are portrayed as teacher and student in canon material, do not share fanworks of those ships here). Don't steal content or ideas. Do not repost or share anything found here without the permission of that content's creator. When sharing content by others, they must be credited in your post. When sharing links to your content, ensure that it is thoroughly tagged in your post. Any NSFW content should be shared in the gated channels. No underage (less than 18 years old) or incestuous NSFW content (in ANY form, regardless of how brief it may be) is allowed in this server. Use tags and spoilers (if applicable) for “trigger warning” kind of content. Examples of warning tags: -Graphic depictions of violence -Character death -Rape/non-con/dub-con (A/B/O works are considered dub-con) Other things such as phobias, body horror, blood, etc, should also be tagged. If you would tag it on AO3 or a social media post, tag it here. If unsure, ask a mod for help!

Rule #3: Be Creative. This space was made so that content creators may meet and interact with each other and with fans of transformative works. It is encouraged (but not mandatory) to participate in Lounge events and challenges. Use this space to discuss your content and ideas, share tips, ask questions, etc.

Rule #4: Be Kind. This is meant to be a community. Remember to encourage and support one another. Visible support such as reblogging/retweeting, commenting, giving kudos, etc., ought to be considered part of being a Lounger. Do not simply use this server (or myself) as your marketing platform. Self-promotion is not only encouraged, but expected. However, when you promote your work, stick around to throw some support and encouragement at others.

#the creative lounge #discord server #artists #writers #animators #podficcers #podcasters #gamers #ttrpg #multifandom

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myloveforyunho · 2 months

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let me just clarify, these are in my request rules area but people don’t tend to read that far!

I DO NOT USE AI FOR MY AUDIOS BY THE WAY, all audios i have created are from the credited voice actor, a lot of the other sounds i create myself or get from various other sites. such as bed sounds, suction sounds, etc.

please do not redistribute any of my content or my posts! reblogging is absolutely fantastic it helps alotttttfmekdkfkekdkf but going out of your way to save, & re-post one of my audios to your account that i genuinely edit & add sounds to personally, with my own at home tools… and toys… is prohibited by me. it’s just weird to me, i already have it posted so there shouldn’t be a reason to repost, unless in case of sharing. but that’s what re-blogging & copy link is for! as well as my writing of course; please respect it :)

new audio today! cumming soon.

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chad-something · 1 year

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BEHOLD Fic Recs!!!! 18+

Notes: I’m reposting this because it seems to have disappeared completely from my account!! After the week we’ve all had I thought I’d accumulate some of my favs 🥹🥹 I’ll make a list for fluffy fics as well! Big love.

Side note, there is no theme, the theme is chaos fuck you Filoni

Warnings: These all contain 18+ content, minors do not interact - all posts contain individual warnings.

Expensive Tastes: by @eloquentmoon - cad bane x AFAB!reader

• Good lord. Need I say more? I want this shit tattooed on my fucking eyelids.

Rough Day: by @no-droids - mando x F!reader

• Because obviously. Is it too much to call this the Bible for fanfic readers?

Tech Savvy: by @bb-8 - Tech x F!reader

• Pure, unadulterated perfection.

Can I help with that?: by @nahoney22 - Tech x F!reader

• She needs no introduction. All of Honey’s work is PERFECTION!! I’m kicking my feet and blushing thinking about it all.

Handling: by @moodymisty - Tech x F!reader

• Again, she needs no introduction. Incredible writing AND incredible sex, what more could you ask for? I just adore all of her stuff!!

Catch and Release: by @sporadicthingcollection - Cad Bane x F!reader

• This was the first fic I ever read on ao3 after somebody sent it to me and I remember with such clarity being like … wait… this shit can be GOOD good?! I feel like I’m reading a Jane Austen novel rn except it’s pure smut and about a blue space cowboy. I seriously hang off Emberly’s every word - this fic and the whole series is AMAZING

Poise Counterpoise: by @sporadicthingcollection - Tech x F!reader

• Mmm same as above but for tech. I want to inject this into my brain?!

Quick and Dirty: by @eyecandyeoz - Tech x Reader

• Everything. All of Candy’s stuff. But in light of recent events this one has been on my mind!

Multitasking: by @neon-junkie - Tech x GN!reader

• I dare you to find a fic by neonjunkie that I won’t obsess over, this is one of my personal favs

Coriolis Effect: by @uponrightful - Crosshair x reader

• FANTASTIC Crosshair series with excellent writing, pacing, and smut by uponrightful

What Boba thinks about on the throne: by @saradika - Boba x F!reader

• I’m blushing. Every. Single. Fic. Is. Perfection. (And read kinktober 2021 NEEEOOOOOOWW)

These are just some off the top of my head to help ease the pain from the finale!! I’ll be back with more soon I’m sure - and there are so many other fluffy fics I adore that I can’t wait to shout out asap

(Boarders by @saradika)

Em x

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flowerandblood · 1 year

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A Winter Beauty (18)

[Aemond Targaryen x fem!Stark reader]

[warnings: sex content, smut, domination kink, swearing, angst]

[description: Aemond and his family arrive at Winterfell for Rickon Stark's Name Day. There, Aemond meets his daughter, who arouses his desire. I changed some names and facts for the sake of the plot. Viserys is also slightly younger in this version.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next parts: Masterlist

_____

After what had happened between them last night, Aemond had been staring at her with a slightly malicious grin all morning, at which she had only pursed her lips in satisfaction. They both knew that what had happened between them was very much enjoyed and that they had to do it again.

Lady Stark was a little apprehensive about what it would be like and if she could handle it. If she would be uncomfortable with his manhood in her mouth. After she came on her own fingers, unable to resist the lust, her doubts vanished.

Aemond was so delighted and aroused, that immediately after he cum in her mouth, he knelt between her thighs himself, reverently licking everything that was leaking from her.

He brought her to fulfillment once more, caressing her with his tongue with reverence, and he was sure that Alys Rivers could hear his wife moans even from the other side of the castle.

They ate breakfast in fantastic moods, casting amused and ambiguous glances at each other. Aemond watched intently as she licked her fingers lingeringly after each bite, glancing at him once in a while out of the corner of her eye.

He considered making her kneel before him again before they left. Reluctantly, he gave up the idea, knowing that he was about to meet Lord Strong, for which he could not be late.

While Aemond left for the prearranged council, Y/N returned to her chamber to change. Alys was waiting for her there and bowed as soon as she entered.

"My Lady." She said in a calm, pleasant voice. Y/N nodded her head but didn't say anything. She wanted to smile, but held back, walking to her dresses, which were already waiting for her to choose what to wear. She decided that this time she would choose a more ornate cut, also off-shoulder, decorated by herself with hand-tangled grape leaves.

Alys was lacing the corset of her dress when she spoke suddenly.

"I see you are in a wonderful mood today, my Lady." She said gently. Lady Stark's lips twitched into a smile. As much as she loved talking and chatting up her maids at Red Keep, it was frustrating for her that Alys speak to her first. She knew it was disrespectful.

She decided not to answer, looking calmly at her reflection in the mirror. She was surprised to hear Alys continue.

“But I heard that the prince, returning from the feast, came with a woman to her chamber. One of the maids said she heard disturbing noises from there."

Lady Stark pursed her lips, feeling her whole body tense. She thought she had never met a more brazen human being before. She smiled, her gaze changed, she saw in her reflection that indeed, she looked as if a demon had possessed her. She wondered if this was what she looked like when Aemond fucked her in the chapel.

"You can rest assured that these are just rumors. I would know the taste of another woman in my mouth."

***

What Alys had said unnerved her, but the look on her face after what she had answered she would remember forever. She had never felt so satisfied in her life.

She left her chamber only for the afternoon feast, she had read a book beforehand. She didn't want to accidentally run into this woman again. She couldn't stop thinking about what she had told her, and even though she knew it was a lie, the thought of her husband with another woman drove her crazy.

When it was time for her to come down to the feast, Lord Strong and her husband were already sitting at the table, talking about something.

His face was stone, but as soon as he caught sight of her, his eye lit up, his mouth curved into a lazy, menacing smile. Unable to keep her mouth from doing the same, she felt her heart pound, the muscles between her thighs clenching around nothing.

She sat next to him and he immediately took her hand and kissed it.

"Skorkydoso iksin aōha tubis, ñuha ābrazȳrys? (How was your day, my wife?)” He asked lightly, an ironic smile never leaving his face. Lady Stark looked at him.

"Se ābra kessa daor henujagon nyke mērī. (The woman will not leave me alone.)” She said resentfully, as if what the witch was doing to her was his fault. Aemond frowned. Lord Strong watched them curiously.

"Skoros gaomagon ao nūmāzma? (What do you mean?)" He asked, there was a note of threat in his voice, but not directed at her. Y/N pursed her lips, gripping his hand tighter.

“Ziry ivestretan nyke, bona ēdas kirimves lēda ao. (She told me that she had had fun with you.)" She said, looking at her empty plate. Aemond stared at her intently and turned his head away, snorting impatiently.

"Encore doru-borto rene. Ziry iksos daor drēje. (This stupid slut. It's not true.)” He said enraged, his jaw clenching dangerously. He was holding her hand, but now he was looking at the woman in red as if he wanted to kill her.

"Nyke gimigon. Nyke ivestretan zirȳla kesan gīmigon se sylutegon hen tolie ābra isse ñuha relgos. (I know. I told her I would know the taste of another woman in my mouth.).” She said, unable to suppress a satisfied smile.

Aemond laughed loudly, to the surprise of several at the table, and shook his head in disbelief. Lady Stark had never seen him laugh so much. He looked at her with a mixture of amusement, lust and admiration.

„Se Targārien perzys zālagon iemnȳ ao, ñuha dōna ābrazȳrys. (The Targaryen fire burn within you, my sweet wife.)” He said and kissed her hand again, looking straight into her eyes.

Her jealousy caressed his ego wonderfully. He would never think of cheating, mostly because he didn't need or want the closeness of another woman. He believed that they were made for each other, their flames merging into one great heat that melted everything that stood in their way.

Looking at her now, he realized that was why she had caught his attention in Winterfell in the first place. Of course, she immediately aroused his desires, but what kept him in thinking about her was her behavior. She didn't sit like any decent lady with her eyes downcast in shame, glancing at him surreptitiously, looking for any opportunity to talk to the prince.

From the beginning he noticed that she was happy, that she was not afraid of anything and anyone, that the presence of him and his royal family did not impress her, because there was nothing in them that she needed. She was happy in Winterfell, she loved every moment of her life there. She was confident but not rude or dry, she radiated a warmth and a heat that attracted him.

Her touch and her words burned his body and soul, scarring him, making him unable to forget her. He had to have her all to himself. He wanted to burn her and burn in her fire at the same time, to feel only the heat of their bodies and their hearts. Nothing gave him greater satisfaction than the thought that she felt the same way about him, that she had wanted him too from the beginning.

They were both surprised when a young man approached them. Lady Stark recognized her cousin immediately. His mother, Jeyne Arryn, and her mother, Lyanna Arryn, were sisters.

"Rodrick!" She said surprised, smiling broadly. "What a surprise! I didn't see you at the feast yesterday." Rodrick nodded.

He was a handsome, tall man, two years Cregan's senior. His hair was curled in beautiful black curls, his blue eyes shone with joy. He was wearing a blue robe of House Arryn's color, similar in shades to those she wore herself.

"My prince, my sweet cousin. It's an honor." He said, then referred to her second sentence. “I only arrived today, important matters have kept me in Vale. But I couldn't pass up the opportunity to see you. Will you agree to dance with me?" He asked, avoiding her husband's opinion on the matter. Lady Stark thought it would do him good to see her dance with another man.

“Of course, cousin. With delight.” She said smiling sweetly, her eyes shining with joy. She shook his hand and they set off together to join the other couples.

They stood in front of each other and bowed. They made one turn, put their hands up, and spun around each other, holding each other's waists, staring into each other's eyes. There was something sensual about it, but Y/N knew where the boundaries were. After all, she had known Rodrick since she was a child.

“You have grown up to be a beautiful woman, cousin. I'm not surprised that the prince has lost his head for you." He said with appreciation, looking at her with narrowed eyes. They broke apart a few steps, made a movement, and clasped their hands on each other's shoulders again. Lady Stark felt his hand grip her skin more than it should.

"Thank you, cousin. You too have become a handsome and, as I feel, strong man." She said, teasing him with an amused smile. Her cousin laughed loudly.

“Your answers have always been on point, cousin. You have a fiery tongue." He said low, something in his gaze that if she didn't know him, she might have thought it was lust. She thought, however, that he would not dare to do anything in front of her husband.

"I am Targaryen's wife, cousin. I burn in his fire every day as he burns in mine." She smiled as she thought about what it meant to her. The memory of their night together flashed before her eyes.

“I heard he proposed to you after five days. You must have been very persuasive." He said with amusement, looking at her from under narrowed eyelids. His hand on another rotation caught her lower than it should have, almost touching her buttocks, and she flinched and pulled away immediately, stopping.

"What are you doing?" She asked him, frowning.

“You don't have to pretend in front of your family. The whole North knows you must have fucked him to propose to you so quickly. Could I talk to your husband, maybe he'd let me take you from behind while you sucked his cock?" He asked as if he were talking about the weather.

Lady Stark stared at him in horror, mouth gaping in disbelief, and almost screamed as she saw her husband approach her cousin from behind and put his dagger to his neck. Couples danced around them, apparently not yet seeing what was going on.

"I'd sooner cut off your dick and sew it in your mouth than let you touch my wife again." He hissed, his eye dark, his jaw clenched. Y/N saw that he was barely holding back from killing him. Aemond looked at her, and she shook her head quickly.

"Forgive me, my prince, I must have misunderstood your wife." Rodrick said, raising his hands in a gesture of vulnerability. Aemond closed his eye and squeezed it shut, boiling inside. He suddenly grabbed him by the hair and shoved him, so that the man fell to his knees.

"Beg my wife for forgiveness. On the knees." He said through clenched teeth, his voice low, dark, furious. Lord of Vale swallowed hard and pursed his lips in humiliation, but he knew he couldn't afford any further comments.

"Forgive me, my cousin. I beg you for forgiveness."

Lady Stark nodded quickly and motioned for him to get up, seeing that they had attracted attention. Aemond turned tense and headed for the exit, with Y/N following him. He stepped out into the hallway, the door banging open, Y/N could barely keep up with him.

"Umbagon! (Wait!)” She pleaded. “Nyke gōntan daor gīmigon skoros īles kȳvanon! ("I didn't know what he was planning!)"

Aemond stopped and turned to her, furious.

"Aōha laesi linon bē, hae ao lilagon lēda zirȳla. (Your eyes lit up, as you danced with him.)” He hissed through clenched lips.

"Gaomagon jaela zirsla? (Do you want him?)” He asked, walking over to her, his body pushing her back against the wall behind her, fury in his eye. “Jaelagon aōha gevie valītsos naejot qogralbar ao? (Want your beautiful boy to fuck you?)”

"Iksan daor iā Targārien naejot qogralbar ñuha lentor. (I'm not a Targaryen to fuck my family.)" She said just as furious as Aemond slammed his fist into the wall above her head. She jumped, startled, and they both looked at each other enraged, breathing heavily.

“Eminna aōha ēngos hen mēre tubis, jorrāelagon ābrazȳrys. ("I will have your tongue out one day, dear wife.") He said menacingly and low, looking down at her.

“Gaomagon skor jaelā lēda zira. Ziry iksos aōhon sepār hae tolvie run tolie. (Do what you want with it. It's yours, just like everything else.)” She said defiantly, never taking her eyes off him.

They were both breathing heavily, his fist slid down to her cheek, his fingers grabbing her face. He wanted to kill her and fuck her at the same time.

They kissed greedily, brutally, gasping into each other's mouths, their tongues pressing against each other in anger, fire flowing through their bodies. They broke apart, staring at themselves with lust, breathing heavily.

"Tepagon nyke iā qilōnarion, ñuha zaldrīzes dārys ("Give me a punishment, my dragon king.")

***

Aemond made sure her hands were bound with her own handkerchief as he unbuttoned his pants. She was breathing fast as she lay in front of him on his bed, naked, excited, her hands behind her head. She felt her heart pounding, her juices running down her thighs.

Aemond's eye were black and furious, and she knew she had exaggerated. She wanted him to show her how mad he was. She knew that it wasn't about hurting her.

"Ivestragon arlī qilōni ao sytilībagon naejot. (Say again who you belong to.)" He said low as he pulled down his pants, he was hard just looking at her. Y/N swallowed loudly, her body quivering with emotion.

"To you, my husband." She whispered, looking pleadingly at him.

"Mmm. My sinful wife. Is it so hard?" He asked, his hand gently touching her wet entrance. He massaged her clit in slow, circular motions. Lady Stark opened her mouth and moaned softly, feeling the warmth spreading in her lower abdomen, turning her head to the side.

"No, my husband." She said meekly. A grimace appeared on his face that could be called a smile. He massaged her painfully slowly, her thighs moving in to meet with his fingers, but his hand gripped her skin tightly.

"No. I doubt you'll come today, my wife." He said sharply, looking at her with furrowed brows. Y/N swallowed silently, looking at him pleadingly. “Do you think you deserved your fulfillment? For your husband to fuck you the way you like?"

Y/N pursed her lips, sucking in a quiet breath.

"No, I don't deserve it."

Aemond hummed loudly in satisfaction.

"Exactly. So lie still as I'll take what's mine." He said ominously, leaning over her, one of his hands holding her bound hands up, the other holding his weight of his body on the elbow. Lady Stark spread her thighs in front of him, and he made a sound of satisfaction.

"That's right, sweet wife. Just like that." He said and entered her slowly, filling her to the brim. He slid out of her and slid in again, deeper than before, and she moaned softly in pleasure, staring at him with her mouth slightly parted.

"Feeling good? Feeling good with your husband's cock inside you?" He asked, a note of tenderness in his voice. Y/N looked at him pleadingly, they both began to breathe heavily.

"Yes, gods, it feels so good" She whispered, her thighs involuntarily wanting to meet him, but he wouldn't let her.

"Take what I give you." He hissed to her ear through clenched teeth and ran his tongue along her neck. She moaned loudly, arching back, feeling like she was going to go crazy if he didn't speed up soon.

"Please, husband, harder, fuck me the way you like it" She sputtered, breathing fast, her body literally burning with desire beneath him. Aemond licked his lips at the words, clearly pleased with the state he had put her in.

His thighs sped up slightly, his cock rubbed once in a while against the place that gave her the greatest pleasure, and she moaned helplessly, coming out to meet him.

"Are you sure? You don't want to be fucked by your sweet cousin?" He asked with a menacing grin, his cock moving back and forth inside her in a calm, steady rhythm. Y/N moaned helplessly, on the verge of despair.

"I don't give a shit about him, for God's sake, fuck me!" She moaned loudly. He grinned in amusement and thrust inside her hard, fucking her, thrusting with all his strenght until she felt like he was going to pierce her through.

They were both moaning loudly and panting, seeking their fulfillment. Her hot, went core pressed against him, wanting to hold him in, pulling him inside.

"Do you want to come? Do you want me to let you come, my sinful wife?" He asked through gritted teeth, she could see that he was already close.

"Yes, yes, I beg you, please" She whispered and moaned loudly as his hand released her wrists and went down low to her clit, massaging it where she needed it, her thighs pressing greedily against him. His cock was fucking her hard, rough and fast, his hips hitting her thighs with a wet slap every time.

"Gods, Aemond, yes, yes, yes" She moaned like a mantra, her body arching as she came. She moaned lingeringly and flinched as she felt him cum inside her, his low, guttural moan answering her in despair.

Both of them were still moving involuntarily, looking at each other with tenderness. Aemond leaned over her and kissed her, untying her hands. Y/N hugged him tight and they sucked each other lips, panting into each other's mouths. Aemond pulled away from her mouth with a wet sound.

"Ñuhon (Mine)."

_____

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