#maynard x reader

Please and thank you ☺️

You are such a good writer and I would appreciate it so much, but also no pressure if you decide not to. Xox

No worries anon. And I apologize for the wait.

Mistaken Identity

Zed Conagher x wife reader

Warning: smut, mistaken identity. Emesis Blue creepy shenanigans.

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The sun was beginning to sink behind the hills as you pulled up to the rusted gates of the Conagher Slaughterhouse. The old building loomed above like the shriveled arm of a too shallowly dug corpse. It's been ten days. Ten long, grueling days without word of Dell. Anxiety and fear were constant companions each night as the sun gave way to the night sky. The darkness of the quint town house you both built together felt wrong. It was made for two in mind, not one. Not one half of a whole. Tears prick the corners of your eyes as you blink them away rapidly-almost as if they were never there. Your hands tremble as you clutch the steering wheel. Your wedding band pressing into your delicate skin. It had been ten days. Ten days of unanswered calls of blank-eyed neighbors muttering “probably just left” But Dell wouldn't do that. Not without telling you.

The crunching of gravel assaulted your ears as the car rolled slowly forward, the sounds like bones cracking and popping under the weight like a morbid chorus, tightened like a boa constrictor in the pit of your stomach. The Conagher Slaughterhouse stood like an old war wound—cracked, abandoned, and somehow still breathing. Ugly against the sky as if an afront to god himself. Its windows, now shattered and hollow, stared out like sunken eyes.

This was the last place Dell would have wanted you to be. And you knew it.

"Remember Darlin, If anything happens. Just stay in place." His honeyed drawl would whisper lovingly into your ear as you both enjoyed the warmth of the summer night.

"Dell, I'd help you no matter what. I'm your wife."

His warm chuckle and the weight of his thick chest against you back quieted you as he nuzzled his nose into the top of your head.

"Don't go lookin for me sugar. Dont be callin the cops, just..continue bein your sweet lil self."

The memory stung like a hot knife from a forge being thrust and twisted into your gut. You knew your husband wasn't a good man. You knew he got his hands dirty, but with what was better left unsaid. So, going to the police for help was easily ruled out. And ten days alone..Dell always left little post-it notes around the house. The little messages either conveyed his love in messy chicken scratch or left and estimated day of his return...But it's been ten days since he was supposed to be home. Something just didn't feel right.

You pulled the car into a small dirt patch just outside the entrance to the derelict looking slaughterhouse. Killing the engine, the abrupt silence trills loudly in your ears. The hum of the wind in the distance sounds like screaming. With a soft snarl, you pushed the heavy car door open. The smell of the damp air and petrichor of the soil welcomed you as you all but flung yourself from the vehicle's confines.

Treading forwards tentatively, the sound of gravel underfoot soon gives way to the sound of heels on the concrete.

Dell had loved this town. Loved the quiet mornings with the sun rising over the hills, the smell of fresh-cut grass, and the way the river would glisten like liquid silver in the afternoon. It had been a simple life, but it had been yours—together. It hadn’t always been easy, of course, but the small joys, the shared silences, the simple fact of knowing that he was there beside you—these were the things that kept you going.

He loved you more than anything. Love you so much that he left some of his family just to be with you. Never once did he mention his life, where he grew up of what schools he went to. But just by looking at him from the moment you both first met you could tell the man was more than just smart.

The air stank of rot, not the sweet, earthy smell of decay, but something sharper, more metallic. Scrunching up your nose in disgust, you are forced to squint your eyes to try and peer through the darkness.

There, lying in the middle of the hallway was a pool of dark, viscous liquid. It glinted in the low light—too dark to be water, too rich to be anything else. 'Blood' your mind whispered. Your stomach twisted.

Then, the creak of the floorboards behind you made your heart skip a beat.

You spun around, every muscle in your body tensed, ready for a confrontation, the autonomic nervous system of your body going into overdrive as you search the darkness with your eyes desperately. But there was nothing. No one. Just the quiet darkness, and the sense that something—no... Someone—was watching you.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end.

swallowing the heavy lump in your throat you croak out a soft bleat. Forcing your voice to break the cumbersome silence. “Dell? Is that you?” The words felt weak, whispered to the point of a squeak. As fragile as they might shatter the moment, they left your lips.

No answer.

The silence that followed was thick and heavy, pressing down on you, smothering you. You wanted to scream, to demand an answer, but your throat was tight with the weight of your own fear.

"Dell?!"

The shadows of the slaughterhouse stretched long and distorted, as if the very building was bending to watch you. The silence was oppressive, pressing in on all sides. Every creak of the floorboards, every gust of wind, seemed amplified, as though it were part of some cruel orchestration designed to keep you on edge.

"Dell?! Please?! Where are you?"

Your fingers tightened around the strap of your bag, knuckles white against the fabric, as you slowly made your way through the hall. Gingerly stepping over the puddle of what you want to think is water, you can't help but clutch the shawl around your shoulders tighter for warmth. With each step the hairs on your arms stand up straight, goosebumps form without a second's notice. 'Just cold' you think to yourself even though you feel as though they could feel an unholy presence you had started to sense in every corner of the pitch black.

A low, rasping sound echoed from behind you—a dragging noise, like something heavy being pulled across the ground. You spun around again, your breath quick and shallow, but again there was nothing.

Without warning, a pair of large warm hands grab you and hold you steady. A startled screech of bloody murder never leaves your lips as one palm is placed firmly over your mouth, and the other around your middle. Blanking out of terror, your body freezes in place. Your mind going numb as you can barely register being dragged and manhandled to another location.

The person dragging you stops, and for a moment, there's nothing but the sound of your own harsh breathing, mingling with the distant wind. The overwhelming silence presses in, and you're acutely aware of how alone you are, trapped in this nightmare. Slowly, painfully, the pressure on your mouth loosens, though the grip around your waist remains. You feel like you could break into a thousand pieces, but a voice—familiar, low, comforting—whispers from behind you.

"Shhh... Don't fight it. You’re safe now."

That voice.

It’s his. Your heart stutters. Dell?

You whip around, nearly losing your balance as the sudden motion threatens to tip you over. Your eyes meet the shadowed face of the man behind you, the face of the man you thought you'd lost.

But it's not quite the face you remember. His features are darker, his expression harder. The eyes that once held love, tenderness, are now cold, calculating. A glint of something—fear, or maybe something worse—flickers behind them.

"Dell?" The word escapes you like a prayer. It's more of a whisper, thick with disbelief.

"Dell?" The word trembled in the air between you, a fragile thread that could snap at any moment.

He didn't answer immediately. His grip on you tightened, his fingers pressing into your ribs in a way that felt wrong, like he was trying to keep you in place, to stop you from moving. The weight of his touch was heavy, like it carried more than just his strength. There was something unfamiliar about him now, something that made your skin crawl, even though the voice was undeniably his.

He didn’t speak right away. His gaze drifted over you, his eyes flickering with something unreadable as he took you in—examining you like you were a thing to be inspected, not a person to be cherished. The man who had held you close in the dark, whispered sweet words of love in your ear, was gone. In his place stood a stranger.

"I—I thought you were dead," you stammered, the words tumbling out in a rush, desperate, like you were trying to hold onto the fragile thread of sanity that was slipping away from you.

Dell didn’t respond. His lips pressed into a thin line, as if the words he wanted to say were being kept behind a locked door. He studied you for a long moment before letting go of you entirely, his hands retreating from your skin with an unnatural slowness, like he didn’t want to let you go.

"Why... why didn’t you come back?" Your voice cracked, barely a whisper now. The air was thick with tension, the silence between you suffocating, and the weight of his unreadable stare was unbearable.

He turned his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as if he were searching for the right words. "You shouldn't have come here," he muttered. The words felt heavy, thick with something you couldn’t quite place. Blinding white hot anger surged within your very soul, without thinking. Your arms find their way to Dell's lapels, and before you know it familiar feeling lips crash against your own. Whining into the kiss, you hike your right leg up to hook behind one of his own, the modest dress you have on rises up to rest on the meat of your upper thigh as you try to meld with the man you've spent so long missing.

Your kiss is hungry, needy, and longing. As if you're conveying all the emotions, you've tucked away for your own sake. But his lips against your feel ravenous. Sparks of pleasure ignite on your lips as stubble scratches the delicate skin around your mouth. The smell of grease, oil and his sweat fills your nostrils. The way he snakes his hands round to play with the flesh of your ass through your clothes has you whimpering.

"mnah- Dell, fu- you know I-inngh don't like you grabbin so har-d."

His grip loosened just enough for your breath to return, but not enough to forget how tightly he’d held you—how easily he could do it again. He pulled back from the kiss, breath hot against your lips, his eyes flickering with that same strange hunger you couldn’t place. For a heartbeat, there was your Dell. Your husband. But it vanished behind something feral. Something darker.

"I missed you,” he murmured, almost tender. “Missed you so bad I damn near lost my mind.”

Leading you by the hand like a knight in shinning armor. Dell walks you to a larger room. The walls bare safe for a large viewing window, and a map covering the farthest wall. furrowing your brows as your eyes adjust to the light, you could have sworn Dell didn't have a jacket like the one he's wearing. But all thought leaves your mind as he sets you up on the desk like a meal ready to be devoured.

Dell’s breath catches as your body presses against his, and for a heartbeat, everything falls silent. It’s just the two of you—his warmth surrounding you, his scent grounding you in this moment that feels like a dream. His lips brush softly over yours, hesitant at first, as if he’s afraid to rush this. But it’s impossible to hold back the flood of emotions that surge between you. The kiss deepens, slow and gentle, a quiet exploration of the love you’ve both held in your hearts for all this time.

You pull him closer, your legs wrapping around his waist as he swiftly pushes aside the fabric of your dampened panties.

“mmm, so sweet for me.” he murmurs between kisses, his voice thick with emotion, rough with the weight of everything he’s been holding back.

You meet his gaze, your own heart racing with the intensity of the moment. Without a word, you close the distance between you again, your lips pressing to his with more urgency this time. It’s slow at first—tentative—but the yearning between you both is undeniable, and soon the kiss deepens, growing more heated, more desperate, as though this moment, this connection, can never be enough. His lips trail along your jawline, down your neck, leaving blossoms of reds and purples.

Dell’s hand moves to the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your silky hair as he deepens the kiss. His touch is possessive but gentle, as if he’s trying to reassure himself that you’re real, that you’re really here. That you're here for HIM.

His lips leave yours reluctantly, trailing down your neck, across your collarbone, each kiss more urgent than the last. You can feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, the way his mouth moves with a purpose, a hunger. The thought makes your core tighten and clench with need.

When his lips reach the sensitive spot just below your ear you shiver, and Dell smirks, his teeth grazing the spot just enough to send a His hand moves down, resting gently on the small of your back, pulling you even closer, until you can feel the impressively hard outline of him against your slick folds.

You’re overwhelmed by the sensation of him—his body against yours, the fabric of his overalls getting stained with your juices with each small jut of his hips. The pressure of his touch, the need in his every movement. Your hands slide up to his shoulders, tugging at the hem of his shirt, urging him to get closer, to feel more of him. He hesitates for just a moment, then pulls his shirt over his head with a single, fluid motion. You let out a shaky breath as you take in the sight of him, the strong, familiar lines of his body that you’ve missed more than you can say.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his voice rough, filled with awe and desire. His eyes trace over you, his gaze heated, intense, as if he can’t quite believe you’re really here.

You smile softly, reaching for his hands, guiding them to your own body, showing him where you need him, where you want him. He follows your lead eagerly, his touch reverent, as if he’s afraid of breaking you. But you need him to touch you, to hold you, to pull you into him with the same hunger that you feel in your chest.

His lips find yours again, and this time the kiss is raw, all of the pent-up longing between you finally coming to a head. You’re both desperate, your bodies pressed so tightly together that it feels like you’re two halves of the same whole. His hands move with purpose, and you respond in kind, every touch, every caress a hidden language all its own.

You feel the pulse of desire in every inch of your body as his fingers trail up your spine, brushing against your skin, igniting a fire that only he can fuel. You pull him closer, if that’s even possible, your hands slipping beneath the waistband of his pants, feeling the heavy heat of him, and the undeniable evidence of his own throbbing need.

The kiss breaks, and Dell’s breath is hot against your ear as he murmurs, “You don’t know how much I’ve wanted this, how much I’ve needed you.” His voice cracks slightly, raw with the emotion he’s trying to hide. You tilt your head back, offering him your neck, your body—everything.

“I’m here,” you breathe, your voice shaky, “I’m right here, Dell.”

The air is thick, heavy with the scent of anticipation. It clings to everything—the warmth of your bodies, the heat of your breaths, the intoxicating pulse of your connection. Without missing a beat Dell grunts as he frees himself from the confines of his overalls and gently teases your already moist opening. Hand too large to be Dell's grabs your knees to force them just a tad wider as he gently splits you apart. Inch by inch, he makes you take him. The stunted gasp that tears its way from your throat makes you grasp his forearms tightly. Looking down, you can see how you're stretching to take him, more so than usual.

"wha-?" Your half formed question gets promptly ignored and instead answered by an experimental thrust of his hips that has you seeing stars. The chuckle the erupts from his lungs sounds mixed with a low, crooning moan as he slides out with a wet squelch, only to slide back in. The heavy slap of his balls against your rear and the feeling of being way too full knocks you back into bliss and alarm.

"Wah-when did youuugh~ get so big?"

You can feel him smirking against your neck as he speeds up. The feeling of your insides being churned like butter has you spiraling into a fast and heavy freefall. The coil within your stomach aches as your gummy walls spasm. Dell's name leaves your lips like a heavenly prayer as the sounds of flesh on flesh fill the room. In the throes of ecstasy, you don't register the sound of 'Dell' speaking as the sound of heavy bootsteps saunter closer.

"D-Dell!~ ohh fu-huuck~"

Convulsing as you ride out your high and soak your 'husband' in your fluids. You feel a handkerchief being pressed to your temples. Taking it without a second thought. You dap away at your sweat soaked skin as Dell remains seated inside you. Panting softly, you open your teary eyes. Blinking in shock, you say nothing as your blurry vision gradually grows clearer. Gasping in shock you squeak as 'Dell' makes a small, slow grind against you. A southern drawl so similar to Dell's fills your ears as he smiles sickeningly sweet down at you.

"Howdy sugar, seems you're 'well acquainted' with Zed."

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