#hes scared he looks wrong or looks like a monster
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ok I caved and got some blokees, they're super cute too and just. Oguh.
😂 Submit to the impulsive urges. Accrue a horde
My Way Pt 2
Brainstorm x Reader
• Curling his servos around you, he slides off his berth and heads to the adjoining habsuite off the labs. Because babysitting a human wasn’t part of any of his plans. It’s not like he actually knows all that much about the little organics, either. Really, leaving one in his care could be considered neglect. Unsettled at how limp you are in his hand, he slips into Perceptor’s quarters and sneaks toward the recharging scientist’s berth.
• “Try it and I’ll start breaking your servos one at a time,” Perceptor growls, optics still shuttered and Brainstorm stumbles to a halt. How had he known? And the little human in his grip starts moving with a low, miserable sound. Denta gritted, he darts into the lab commons and opens the door, setting you down as you start to lift your head and gently sliding you out into the hall with a ped. There. Problem solved. Someone else will find and adopt you that’s not him. Turning, he comes face to face with Perceptor scowling at him. “What?” He asks.
• Everything hurts, it feels like even your bones are aching. Disoriented, you roll onto your belly and push yourself up, staggering to your feet. Are you drunk? Something is definitely wrong as you stumble into a wall and look around. Where are you? And why is everything so huge? Running a palm over your face, you hear a soft shush of metal sliding behind you. “Alright, alright. Let go,” rumbles an annoyed sounding voice.
• You’re on your feet, staring around you and at his voice, you turn. And look up. Bracing for the screaming, because he’s heard you little things screeching before, his servos flex. Watches you stagger back a step. Still not screaming? Well, of course his human would be a little more civilized than the rest. Crouching, he lifts a hand. “I’m guessing you have some-” And you turn and sprint away. Still not screaming. Looking up at Perceptor, his shoulders sag as the other scientist just folds his arms and stares. “You know that wasn’t my fault.”
• Running like your life depends on it, you hear the giant monster chasing after you. Yelling at you to stop. Like you’re a badly behaving puppy. And he’s a lot faster than you are, heart racing as heavy peds thud after you. Too scared to scream, to say a word as he makes a clumsy swipe for you and you dodge. Realizing there’s nowhere to go, the hall seeming to go on forever. That you’re going to get caught eventually. Gasping as his big servos manage to catch you, your feet kicking as you go airborne and his optics are narrowing as he holds you up to his face.
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Ok I am going to talk about something that's been on my mind recently.
Major warning ⚠️ might get deep.
Also ADHD RAMBLING SORRY IN ADVANCE 😔
Regarding Alastor and the Seven year absence. Ok so I see how In some recent posts people say Alastor must feel forgotten by the Hasbin crew, cause When Sir Pentious and Dazzle died they got a portrait and a statue. While Alastor got nothing. And Charlie thought he had died too.
But while that is true I'm surprised no one talks about how Alastor already felt Forgotten long before the fight. I'm talking about when he finally got home after 7 years disappearance.
My boy didn't get a Welcome home,( although he did get one from Carmilla later on)or a " Hey are you ok". Nothing. What does he get. Pushed around, Judged ( though it's quite understandable it's still wrong) and even told that he basically didn't matter. Remember the scene between Carmilla and Alastor. Alastor was basically asking her " Hey while I was gone, Did you at least think about me"?. And Carmilla response was definitely " Eh Not Really, But welcome back in any case".
Sure he looked pissed but if I was in his place I'd feel very hurt. I kinda noticed how everyone treats Alastor as if he is the worst thing in hell. When there so much worse * cough Valentino cough*
From what I understand he only targeted those that hurt others. Maybe Hell was pissed because in a way he was saving other souls. Taking them from their abusive owners. Which is fucked up but it's hell. What do you expect?
I firmly believe Alastor grew up in a abusive household and definitely witnessed his mother getting abused which definitely affected his psyche. Maybe his father killed his mother and after killing his father he vowed no one will ever go through what he went through.
So he targeted awful people and offed them. When he got to hell. I think he felt his work wasn't done yet and now he is in the land of abusers and monsters. Maybe deep down. He was the one SCARED 😨.
Maybe he killed so he could feel safe in a twisted way. He ended up selling his soul cause he was scared. His owner who i headcanon is like Mother Gothel definitely didn't help. She manipulated him into thinking she is keeping him safe. When In reality she was using him for his powers.
I also headcanon that ( now this is going to sound crazy) His owner forces him to dress and act the way he does. She wants to be the only one who can play with her toy. His owner definitely doesn't share. So she will try to make him look in her eyes unappealing. We all know this doesn't work though. As Vox had fallen in love with him.
Now I don't believe Vox ever hurt Alastor and as much as I love stories where he gets 😳 obsessed. I actually would be happy if they become best friends again and hope it was just a giant misunderstanding just like Fizz and Blitz.
Still something happened That hurt Alastor deeply that he now hates anything to do with television. My Headcanon is cause Vox started to spend more time with Valentino and accidentally leaving Alastor in the dark. Alastor enjoyed spending time with Vox. Going dancing at a club, listening to radio shows. Even cuddling in a blanket watching a movie. But I think the main reason he enjoyed Vox's company is cause, His owner couldn't touch him. She couldn't hurt him in any way.
Kinda like how a person wants there friend over so there abuser doesn't hurt them. The abuser won't cause they rather do their evil deed in secret.
In other words Alastor felt safe around Vox and when he started spending time with Valentino and less with him. His owner would hurt him.
But no one knew this cause Alastor always had a smile on his face. Always seemed sure and confident of himself. This is a perfect representation of " You don't know what happens behind closed doors". I think this was a learned habit from childhood too. Maybe after his father abused him or/and his mother he would threaten to kill them if they told or even showed any signs of abuse.
His owner definitely has that power. If she has the power to give him power then she has the power to erase Alastor from existence. I think she threatened his afterlife multiple times.
Anyway eventually Vox and Alastor have a big fight which pissed the owner off. And she took him away for seven years. Personally I am among those that think she TORTURED him during that time.
I think she let him out and told him to watch the princess and make sure no one gets redeemed. She sews a smile on his face so everyone thinks he is happy and fine. Again reference to what I said earlier.
Alastor goes back home and everything has changed. Probably a culture shock to him. He goes to the hotel and had to pretend everything is ok. Maybe he was all touchy feely with everyone cause he wants to feel safe and secure. Like he is finally home and not hallucinating. When he is pushed away he acts like it doesn't matter but I think it does. I think it hurts him deeply but because of the abuse he endured in childhood and his afterlife he puts up a front as a defense mechanism.
As Alastor told Charlie
" Just because you see a Smile, don't think you know what's going on underneath. A smile is a valuable tool my dear. It inspires your friends, Keeps your enemies Guessing and says no matter what comes your way, Your the one in control".
In a roundabout way he was basically calling for help without saying he needs help. Remember he can't tell her or anyone about what he went through. Of course In a way it means he is still a prisoner. His owner can take him away at any time and this definitely scares him. So he will do anything he can to prevent this from happening. Even making a deal with the princess of hell.
Anyway So while after the battle I think he felt Forgotten, I think he already felt that way. Like he doesn't matter and he wants to matter. His owner and father probably told him that he is worth nothing and no one will miss him while he is gone.
Well he was gone twice and NO ONE missed him.
That's very sad when you think about it and I'm surprised no one had brought it up yet.
Once again I apologize for my rambling thank you for reading
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JANUARY 5: I got turned around and went all the way back to the cemetery. You know, the second place you go ever in Silent Hill 2.
JANUARY 6, TWO WEEKS AGO: I actually downloaded and learned to use Audacity to clean this audio up at least a little, because a beloved family member opened and closed the garage door at the beginning and end of my very first attempt at fighting anything in a video game ever. (A "lying figure" that vomits acid at you; I don't describe it and you don’t hear it, but consider that a content note.) I would have scrapped the recording, but you never get a first time twice, I guess.
By this point, I am still bumping James into things and my camera movements are a bit wild, but I can mostly get him through doors.
(Comments directed at my player character are in parentheses.) {Comments directed at the enemy/monster are in brackets and bold.}
[Muttering at first:] All right, so I gotta get to this door to get our radio, our monster detector/wife communicator. (All right, point you through the door—we're gonna die. We're about to die.)
Okay. [Determined sigh.] I've got the mouse, the external mouse. We're gonna move the phone back a little bit to record. [Sigh.]
(Go ahead and look at your nails. Go ahead and grunt at me.)
I have to... I’m gonna take off my sweater, it's getting hot. Here we go. [Pep talk:] No, I got a mouse. I got a mouse. Everything is left click. Everything is left click, except space is dodge. And then we hope we're not gonna die… okay. Listen, if this is humiliating, the point of it is that y'all can laugh at me. That is the point of this recording.
All right, can't turn back. What—get the—get the camera! Okay. When I hit this letter E... [sigh] I can't turn back. Shit starts up. Here we go: E.
[Unfortunate sound of garage door.] Ohhhhhh, here's the cutscene, ohhh nooo. Okay, here's the monster, I'm so scared. I'm not scared of the monster, I'm scared of getting humiliated. (I know, I'm not happy about it either, James.) It breaks... it breaks through the... wooden... barrier somebody has. It's... fucked-up looking. He turns around... he grabs Nails on Stick from the window. “Stay back,” he says—oh, my God. [Vehement mouse-clicking.] Oh my God. Hit it. Hit it, hit it. Oh, we're not doing terrible. We're not doing terrible.
[Indignant:] {Oh no, don't you hit him!!}
Ohhh, I got vomited on. Okay. [Tone you would use to beckon to a small animal:] {No, no, c’mere... c’mere...} I got vomited on a lot. Here we go. {No��don't you dare, don't you dare—}
Oh, oh God, okay. Heal? Heal? Heal. Just—fucking heal. [Garage door.] Okay—oh, that was a good one. Got a good hit. {Oh, don't you fucking do that.} Oh God, he's gonna die. He's gonna die—I've never done this before. He is gonna die so hard. [Vehement mouse-clicking.] Hit it. Hit it. Stomp it. There we go, get it. {Are you dead? [Click.] You're not dead. [Click.] You're still not dead. [Click.] } (Stomp it. Stomp it. Okay.) {Are—are you dead?} Ohhh it’s dead—he said, “What was that thing?” [which indicates that the tutorial is over], he’s dead, she’s dead, somebody's dead.
Okay, so I'm dying. I'm like, super plus… dead. Okay... I've got the plus sign [that indicates you are near death] come up.
(I know, buddy, I know, I deserve everything. I deserve all bad things.)
Do we go through the door? [I hit the wrong key:] He's dodging. Yeah, that's fair. Okay, we go through the door? We don't go through the door. The game is like, “Fuck that door. You can't go back.” [Long pause.] He's trying to go through the door.
(Sweetie—sweetie, can we—thank you. Why… why are you… swinging at things?)
Oh, he's limping so bad. He's... he's... he's hurtin’. He's hurtin’ real bad.
At a key point, I accidentally held the V key down, which means I… would have used a syringe [a healing item stronger than a health drink], except I don't have one yet. That was bad. Please give me a syringe. This man is... not doing well, he's not. He's struggling. A lot of my problem—
(I know—sweetie, don't make those noises. I'm so sorry. I'm doing my best. Come on. My best is—)
[Long gasp] It’s a syringe box!! (Go get it! Go get it! Get it! You can make it, you can make it.) You have to tap V for health drink and you hold it down for syringe and I didn't have a syringe yet. And that cost me precious time. Yes... he’s struggling, he's struggling so bad.
[After using a syringe to pretty much fully heal:]
Okay. All right, so now we're gonna go through a window, right? We're gonna go through a window, we're gonna learn to do that. Oh, he's doing a lot better now, okay. Press—yeah, okay. Breaking glass is like the primary mechanic early on [laughing], that’s mostly what you do. Okay, so he's gonna stop and listen to the radio.
Okay, that was rough. But... I did better than some people. Some people get killed. Some people get killed in that first part, I did okay! [Tiny voice:] I didn't feel okay. I did okay! I got him out! (That's your wife, that's your wife on the radio. Just—let's get through this.)
I may go back to that save and try it again at some point. But see? It wasn't terrible? It wasn't terrible, we did okay! We did okay...
That was… bad. That was ugly. That was real—
(No, I'm taking you—I'm going to—I'm sorry. I bumped you. I'm sorry.)
------
After that, I practiced fighting in the first area of the game on a couple of mini-runs through South Vale, and then went through the next two major areas. I'm very good at fighting basic monsters now, plus I’ve learned enough OBS to record gameplay with voice commentary! I’ve already inflicted further audio clips on everyone on Patreon, and I’ll probably bring a few more over here. As of today (1/22), I'm about to fight Pyramid Head for the first time, possibly with a video clip, and that'll also hit Patreon first.
If nothing else, it’s been fun to document my progress. I really did not think I was the kind of person who would stalk a dark apartment shouting “I HEAR YOU! COME OUT! COME GET ME!” but here we are.
#sh2r playthrough#I did not expect to be so chill about horror combat#like I start off screaming in the parking lot on day one and then I’m just like#are you dead. are you dead. yeah hit it again#gaming#audio#voice only#long post
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gogurt
#ethan winters#leon kennedy#lethan#rosemary winters#rose winters#resident evil#resident evil fanart#rebhfun#roomate au#ethan living in a constant state of paranoia#hes scared he looks wrong or looks like a monster#he wears a hat to try and hide more
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I kinda maybe put a lot of my OC plot tag lines on a Wheel and gave it a spin so outta 79 options, it landed on "Cellphone Justice" which is... these two.
Matthew "Skittles" Mouse and Daisy Eddington
Partners in justice (of sorts). They're basically vigilantes and their orders are simply text messages. They don't really know who their bosses are but they do as they are told.
Skittles is a very mediocre guy. Doesn't stand out. The most color he has in his wardrobe is blue jeans. He's amazingly asexual and has zero interest in romance regardless of intimacy and yet he gets partnered with Daisy. The gayest lady he has ever met. Great start. She enjoys calling him fun little nicknames but seeing as they're monitored closely (via cell phones/technology) she is scolded and told to pick a single one. So she does. She dubs him Skittles. The candy as gay as her.
The one thing they have in common is their number one weakness: cute girls.
Daisy turns into a stuttering MESS of a human being. A disaster. At the mere sight of a cute girl. Skittles on the other hand is TERRIFIED of them. When asked, he simply blames his life growing up. Daisy doesn't really push the matter just thinks it's a little weird to be scared of every single cute girl (no offense to the not being afraid of her taken).
#my characters#like the entire thing with skittles is just he is SO boring looking and hes so scared of cute girls#and daisy thinks its REALLY FUNNY dude why are you scared of them haha girls are GREAT#and then she meets his younger sister and is like oh dang dude she is ADORABLE and she sees him practically shaking and sweating#surely its not THAT bad but ah no wait#two days pass and daisy is like oh my god shes horrifying ????? what the hell?#and growing up with her and trying to be a good big brother is all fine and dandy until the cute lil sister gets him hurt a lot#like hospital injuries from either protecting her or just .... somehow wrong place with her at the wrong times all the time#so he gets a fear of cute girls bc his lil sister is a cute monster who is the reason most of his limbs have been broken in the past#like broken leg ? that was from amelia and a stair case#the broken arm ? trying to help amelia get something out of a tree#the broken wrist ? catching amelia falling out of a tree#the other broken leg ? amelia -#the list goes on and on and he also got into multiple fights trying to keep her safe from guys#bc she really is just a cute lil innocent looking girl but shes a schemer and it does come back to bite her#except for she has a good big bro who took the repercussions when he could#daisy just watching her partner pale and shake and sweat when hes in the same room as his sister and daisy feels so bad for him#like hes really going through it even after all these years#but meeting amelia puts a lot into perspective for when daisy and skittles are out and about#cause hes very efficient and chill talking to dudes and to mature looking women#then he turns into a bundle of nerves at wide eyed innocence and daisy is like yeah ok i gotta#i gotta be a lil less gay for his sake only if hes around cause i cant make him talk to his biggest fear thats mean#shes still really gay but yeah it works out and she looks out for him and in turn he looks out for her and its great!#they become friends! yeehaw!#lil trivia is she was a drama kid in hs and he was on the baseball team but never really played or put effort into it#she was a straight a student and he very consciously maintained a c average through calculating grades and missing stuff on tests on purpos#anyway thank u if you read all the tags or even ty if you read just hte post itself#im sorry for ocing on main when its my own ocs#ill be back tomorrow with .... idk what
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I’m pretty sure this is a hot take/unpopular opinion in the Toffee fandom, but I’ve never been the fan of the theory/assumption that Toffee was framed for Comet’s death
I fully admit that the plot point was most likely thrown in there to completely demonize him in the eyes of the audience and make us sympathize with Moon (making his death more “deserved” (HEAVY airquotes) for general audiences), and it does feel random and out of character, but when you think about it, it does make sense why he’d be the culprit. You have to dig but he has at least two canon supported reasons for why he’d kill Comet Butterfly.
Now this isn’t commentary about if Toffee is taking orders from Seth, that’s a whole other conversation, but this is simply about the theory that Toffee didn’t have any part in her death (someone else did it) and he’s innocent of all charges.
I completely empathize with the theory, especially because the show demonizes him so much already and it’s just another scoop to add to the pile of “evil” he’s been boiled down to by the show, but Toffee was no doubt in my mind the one who made that blow on Comet.
And he’s SO fucking proud of himself too
“Hello Princess” HE LITERALLY GIVES MOON SUCH A SASSY LOW BLOW.
#svtfoe#star vs the forces of evil#toffee of septarsis#comet butterfly#toffee svtfoe#comet svtfoe#comet the chef#opinion#kinda hot take#I will say this theory is very cool in aus#I always love looking at aus#I’m mainly talking canonically here#I feel like someone might ask me about the the reasons he killed comet#and I’m lowkey scared because I’ve never publicly shared my comet opinions#I don’t like comet 😭#also just because I say he did it#doesn’t mean I say it’s good he did it#it was still the wrong move no matter how valid he was#killing the monarch won’t solve monster racism#it kinda makes it worse💀#though she would’ve made it worse too#I digress
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@anestofocs asked- 😱 for the text meme with Yuki? social media and texting prompts (accepting!) send 😱 for a scared text from my muse
[text]- hey.
[text]- what the fuck are you doing?
#//if this seems a little weird sorry! he's usually not going to send a scared text to someone he doesn't really know#//and even then it comes across like this#//he probably sent this to the wrong number and that's how yuki got it lol#//lambda's currently looking at some weird monster peeking into the window like 'why do you think this is a good way to spend your time?😐'#//GBHDFBGHDNJBHN#he's a killer queen... {ic}#why are you botherin' me? {answered memes}#anestofocs
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sleepover
pairing: perverted bsf! wooyoung x fem! reader feat. a comatose mingi (he’s asleep on the bed lmao…or is he…)
summary: wooyoung is more than willing to hold you when you’re afraid during your horror movie marathon, and even more willing to help distract you like a good friend does.
wc: 1.4k
warnings: perverted dom! wooyoung, subby innocent! reader, bro is convincing and manipulative okay, cnc/dubcon-ish vibes (if that’s not your thing feel free to skip!!), coercion/corruption, exhibitionism (all of the following is done right next to mingi), brief kissing, groping, fingering, initial orgasm denial,, tit play + spit, rough unprotected sex, creampie, this is a wild one idkidkkkkk
a/n: wooyo has been haunting my brain lately so i had no choice but to write this >~< i hope you enjoy <33 alsoo i’ll be posting one more corruption themed fic very soon that feats frat boy san and minyunhwa~
song rec: if you think i’m pretty - artemas
“I told you not to put this movie on, Woo. It’s way too scary,” you complained whinily into your best friend’s shoulder, shielding your eyes from the suspenseful scene playing out on the laptop sitting on the edge of your bed.
“Mingi was the one who wanted to watch it, you know,” Wooyoung chided, causally wrapping his arm around your shoulders, rubbing your bare arm up and down in a comforting manner.
“Well, Mingi’s passed out.” Pouting, you pointed to your other friend that was curled up underneath the comforter beside you, his eyes shut. “He’s not even watching, so what’s the point?”
Wooyoung rolled his eyes. “Come on, Y/N. Don’t be a pussy.” His cold fingers made their way down to your waist to squeeze at it, making you jump from the sudden contact. “Oh, I see….Do you think the monster’s gonna get ya?”
“Shut up, Wooyoung!” you whisper-shouted, as to not wake up Mingi. You pushed on his chest, feeling his heart beat quickly against your hand. Was it racing like yours was? And, when did he get so close to you? His hand was already running up and down the bare skin of your thigh, causing your thin shorts to ride up more and more, but you didn’t have the nerve to confront him about it. Your pout grew. “I’m really scared, okay?”
“Oh, you poor baby,” Wooyoung cooed softly into your ear, his words laced with faux pity, his sharpened gaze focused solely on your blushing face. “Do you want me to help you, Y/N? Distract you from the scary movie?”
“Y-yes, please…”
You didn’t know what you were getting into, but you trusted that Wooyoung had your best interest in mind. It was then that he gently coaxed you further into his arms, lying comfortably against him as you faced the laptop screen once again. Goosebumps began to spread across your limbs from underneath the warm comforter, but it wasn’t from the frightening movie — it was from Wooyoung’s hand slipping underneath your shorts, his slender fingers rubbing at your pulsing cunt through your panties.
“W-Wooyoung…” you croaked weakly, your face and body growing so hot, you could pass out. Friends didn’t do this sort of thing, did they?
“Shhhh, baby, just look at the screen…yeah, just like that…” he sighed softly, his warm breath fanning over your neck, now concentrating on the way your tank top clung to your softness of your tits, how your nipples grew hard enough to poke through the thin material, groaning when he found your clit through your panties, rubbing at it in slow, small circles.
“B-but we’re friends, Woo…” You made a sad attempt at pushing his hand away, the moral debate you were having internally slowly fizzling away the longer Wooyoung touched you.
“Isn’t this what friends are for?” Wooyoung persisted, pulling your panties to the side just in time for his fingers to dip in between your soaked folds. “And, fuck, you’re so wet right now, Y/N. It feels good, doesn’t it? What’s so wrong with that, baby?”
“But, nnngh…Mingi’s right next to us…” You began to melt into Wooyoung’s arms and the soft mattress below you, unable to resist spreading your legs out for him, your thigh even resting against Mingi’s, not noticing when it shifted just as two of Wooyoung’s digits slipped inside you.
Licking at his lips, Wooyoung then pressed them onto your cheek, egging you on in a low voice, “Then, tell me to stop, baby.” He began to fuck his fingers into you at a fast pace, your walls clenching around them. “Right now. Say it.” Now, he was relentlessly rubbing his thumb into your clit with his free hand, still working your cunt, hooking his digits against the spot that made you spasm, your body growing warmer and heavier. When you pouted up at him and whined, he simply mirrored your helpless expression. “What’s the matter, baby? Hm?”
“Oh– fuck, right there…” you moaned out, not even attempting to look at the laptop screen in front of you, instead solely focused on your best friend beside you, so desperate to cum, you began to roll your hips down every time his fingers plunged into you.
“Yeah? You’re feeling really good now, aren’t you, Y/N? Now that you’re nice and full? Just look at you, baby…You can’t help but fuck yourself dumb on my fingers, huh?” Wooyoung looked like the monster from the movie now, eyes full of hunger, like he was ready to eat you up.
“Uh-huh, uh-huhhh…” Just as your sounds of pleasure began to crescendo, your mind growing cloudier by the second, pulling at the sheets below you because you were right there, Wooyoung ceased his movement completely, leaving you high and dry. “No, please, don’t stop, please…!”
Wooyoung gave you a look of indifference, much like a cat that suddenly wasn’t interested in playtime anymore. “Show me your tits. Maybe then I’ll make you cum.”
Desperate for your best friend’s attention and touch, you slowly rolled your tank top up until your tits spilled out, tears pricking at your eyes. How did you get here? Why did Wooyoung’s deliciously dark gaze successfully distract you from the paralyzing shame you felt? Or is that what made you wet? The way you were slutting yourself out for your best friend while the other was sleeping right next to you? “Please make me cum, Y-Youngie…”
“Fuck, you’re so cute, come here.” Now, Wooyoung was on top of you, leaving as much of his saliva on your tits as possible, squeezing one when he was noisily sucking on the other, his dilated eyes never leaving your teary ones. “Can I fuck you, Y/N? I’ll make you cum, I promise…I need to be inside you, baby, please, you’re so fucking hot…” Desperate for release, Wooyoung lowered his sweatpants until his heavy cock dropped onto your bare cunt, rubbing himself along it, making your mind grow that much more empty. “Just the tip, okay? That’s okay, yeah?”
Before you knew it, you were nodding, and just like that, he was inside you, your best friend, using you like a cocksleeve. Wooyoung was ramming his cock into your cunt like he was trying to knock you up. “That’s a good slut, fuckkk, taking me so well…” You tried to moan, to speak, to say anything, but you couldn’t, not with the way his tongue suddenly went down your throat.
All you could do was cling onto Wooyoung, your nails digging into his skin when it felt like the tip of his cock was pounding into your cervix, almost growing dizzy. When you heard your best friend groaning about how he was getting ready to fuck you full of his cum, you gasped, unable to talk, short, broken moans being punched out of you each time Wooyoung slammed himself into you, your thighs hooking around his waist once his hot load began to pour into you. It was then that you turned your head just in time to realize Mingi was watching you intently, his plush lips parted just enough to let drool slip past, catching onto the way that something was moving rapidly underneath the comforter somewhere near his abdomen.
“Told you she would put out, didn’t I, Min?” Wooyoung mused smugly, fucking you through the orgasm that tore through your used body, using your bruised hips like handlebars as he did so.
“You were so right, Woo, so, so right,” Mingi sighed out, tossing his head back into the pillow behind him, leaving a few watery cumshots on the inside of your comforter and his hand.
You didn’t know if you wanted to cry or to cum again, instead just trying to catch your breath, hiding your face underneath one of your wrists, at least until Wooyoung pulled it down and made you look at the both of them.
“You’ll let Mingi have a turn, won’t you, Y/N? It’s only fair, right?”
Mingi nodded in agreement, before leaning in, licking across his teeth. “Having my cock inside your little used cunt next will make another good ‘distraction’, don’t you think?”
Even though the credits were rolling on the laptop behind them, the monsters hadn’t left. They were right there in front of you, waiting for your permission to ravage you. You couldn’t help but nod. They were your best friends, after all.
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i love how as you read more into tlt, the ninth house seems more and more normal. Like if i'm at an immoral evil government competition, and i use human fat as soap and animate skeletons to do menial labor, i'm gonna LOSE if my competition is the third house, represented by ianthe "who HASN'T eaten human flesh and fucked a corpse" tridentarius. My weird skeleton thing seems normal, suddenly. Well-adjusted, even. It's recycling. They're using resources in a sustainable way. Normal and regular and productive for a post-climate change apocalypse universe.
People go on and on about how Muir drops you into gtn hearing from the person who knows the least about whats happening, and does not hand hold the reader through the crazy shit that occurs, and that's all true. It truly is a crazy writing decision to make your first pov character come from the universe's equivalent of amish fundamentalists. But the reader is actually done a huge favor being dropped into the ninth house first, because we already understand that space is cold and what catholic nuns are, and what goths look like, and what lesbians are. Very little time is wasted in the first chunk of gtn ripping hair out of your head wondering what the fuck is going on, because for all of its strangeness, the ninth house is already the most familiar thing we're gonna get.
Because THEN we learn that this whole universe's medieval chivalry system is designed to groom people from CHILDREN to not only be exploited and used as human batteries for necromancers, but to LIKE it. to wax poetic about it. to confuse it for love, to write fucking academic papers about it! Then we learn about planet flipping, an act so horrific and violent it turns the planet's soul into a massive vengeful monster capable of killing GOD. Like what do you MEAN the animals "change"? Is this why noodle has six legs? I would MUCH prefer to wear skeleton makeup and repent forever if the alternative was to witness my family dog grow TWO EXTRA LIMBS because the planet he lived on fucking died. Suddenly, living in the asscrack of a planet where no light gets in seems like a sweet deal when the whole solar system is lit by a sun that MAKES YOU GO CRAZY. The ninth house's WORST sin, killing 200 babies to make Harrow, a waste of resources and an act so terrible it haunts Harrow for the entire span of her life, is like a BLIP compared to the death count Jod's empire. God even hears about it and he's like, no big deal! The cohort probably kills that amount of people in a DAY.
And its ALSO tragic because you realize that all of this trauma and abuse that Gideon goes through is not really because of the ninth house at all. It's really just an individual skill issue that she wasn't treated with compassion. Nobody hated her because she's jesus or a bomb, nobody even KNOWS she's a bomb. It's just Priamhark and Pelleamena being deeply guilty and scared people that motivates her treatment, and absolutely nothing else.
They did something bad, and they know it, and Gideon survived it, and they can't kill her to cover it up, and that's IT. They killed themselves for pride, because they were afraid of the consequences of their actions (both the baby killing and Harrow opening the tomb) coming back to bite them. You can argue this is the catholicism of it all, and I wouldn't say you're wrong, but compared to the cavalier system, where exploitation is in the very lining of the house's institutions, the ninth house is really removed from the space empire's blood factory. This is compared to the fourth house where they have tons of children to be CANNON FODDER to join the cohort at fucking 14, compared to the eight house uncle nephew fuckery, even the fifth house which actually does seems nice to live on but also seems to have the fourth house in some sort of fucked up political bear hug??? (maybe the fourth house has so many kids in order to fight the fifth's battles? which is EXACTLY what jod's whole empire is about; politely stirring your tea and acting nice while you destroy everything) compared to ALL OF THAT, the cruelty that Gideon faces is really more a bug of the ninth's system than a feature.
There's nothing baked into the culture and everyday life of the ninth house that necessitated that cruelty; in fact, for such a pragmatic and resource-scarce place, it's WEIRD that a strong able-bodied young person was treated like a waste of space and resources. It could just have easily not happened, if Harrow's parents had been different people. Maybe they were products of their environment, but so was Harrow, and she values Gideon's life SO MUCH that she'd literally rather carve out parts of her own brain than exploit her. Gideon grows up knowing really NOTHING about cavaliers, so remote from the horrors of the empire that she develops an idea of what the cohort is from porn magazines. And in a lot of ways, that upbringing was desolate and terrible, and in a lot of other ways it literally DID NOT HAVE TO BE.
Gideon's MAIN THING is that she wants to be useful, to be needed, to be loved and it SUCKS that she couldn't even get it in the one place where she was actually an invaluable resource, where the death empire had the weakest reach. Gideon can't even blame her lack of love on the fucked up chivalry system like everyone else can because it JUST WASNT REALLY RELEVENT!?!?! This is like if i rolled up to the trauma competition and everyone else was raised in a nuclear warzone by wolves or something and i grew up in like, the suburbs and was raised by teachers and i somehow STILL WON. truly what the fuck guys.
#tlt#the locked tomb#gideon the ninth#harrow the ninth#nona the ninth#tlt gender studies#none gender with left grief#the locked tomb trilogy
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Beauty and the Beast
An event where you are a woman in the 50s trying to turn the head of your neighbor, Francis Mosses when you are stalked and pursued by his evil counterpart.
Art by ilameys
Zettai Zetsumei • Co shu Nie
Word Count: 5.7k
⚠️: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT ♥ Manhandling, Slight body horror descriptions, descriptions of blood, himbo!doppelgänger!Francis Mosses, Yandere Behavior, Mentions of Stalking, sexualization of the female MC by Fake Francis, SMUT(CNC, mentions of a "rape kit"), and monster cock.
I write for free, but if you wanna further support me > Ko-Fi 🎀
Life was somewhat boring for you as a woman in the 50s. Despite being sought after by a lot of the men in your apartment complex, you had your heart set on one man. You only got to see him once a day. Francis Mosses. When he would deliver milk to your door in the morning. No matter how cute or cherry you were, it seemed like his mind was set on other things. The man always looked tired but you thought he was handsome no matter what. Maybe even more handsome…it was just something about hot men being tired that made them so much hotter.
You had hoped that eventually, he’d notice you and finally take you on a date!
But that hope soon faded when you read the newspapers. They talked about how doppelgängers are becoming a lot more frequent and the D.D.D. would be installing new units everywhere to ensure that no evil counterparts are making their way into the homes of others and killing people. You were able to tell if this made you feel safer or a lot more scared. What if someone made a mistake…?
Well, you didn’t have a chance to feel anything really, as the D.D.D. was extremely secretive about this kind of threat. After some time, it became normalized and it soon left your mind. The Doorman job seemed to be pretty effective as you had never seen any monsters before and were very much alive. It was rumored that the creatures would murder and eat any person they encountered if they succeeded in passing as humans. This is another reason you had your heart set on Francis. You felt as though he could protect you at a time like this. Maybe it was naive of you but after all, you were just a girl.
“Good Morning.”
Upon hearing the small knock at your door, you went to greet him. Francis stood tall, rather confused about you coming to get your bottled milk so quickly.
“Oh, good morning…” He replied flatly, gripping the strap of his milk bag. You thought that maybe he had a mutual crush on you and was too shy to act on it. So, you could take that step for him.
“How are you this morning? I hope that life is agreeing with you today.” You stepped outside of your apartment door with your glass of milk in hand. Francis shrugged. “I suppose it is.” He then yawned before saying “What’s wrong? Are you looking for another?”
You blinked. “Huh?” Your eyes then darted down to your hands. “O-Oh…sure.” You smiled attractively, causing him to break eye contact with you. He reached into his milk carrier and revealed and took out another. “You’re only allowed to get one every day but you can have mine.” He walked up to you and placed the bottle into your free hand.
“Th-Thanks!”
“Don’t mention it.”
After he disappeared around the corner, you were filled with joy! That interaction was such a good sign. He gave you his milk bottle. You had to make him something for dinner tonight as a gift!
Thunk!
You almost jumped at the sound of glass falling on the carpet at the far end of the hallway behind you. It looked like an empty milk bottle if you squinted hard enough. There was a shadow as well. It made you feel uneasy and quickly made you retreat into your home.
You wanted to try seeing if you could have more time with Francis. There was a job opening for the D.D.D. Doorman of your building and you instantly took it. Being able to meet with Francis when he wasn’t busy might have your conversations with him take a turn for the better. You really appreciated his selfless gesture. So, seeing him at least twice a day would make your life so much brighter. Francis was the complete package. Tall, handsome, quiet, and most of all, soft-spoken. You’d be a good wife to him.
On the first day of the job, you didn’t receive any proper training. You were given an informational video and a set of instructions that you scrambled to memorize as a long line of your neighbors awaited their inspection outside. The job was easy at first and you did it well. It was a chore but those are easy. You let in the right people and you called the D.D.D. when you found a doppelganger like you were instructed to. Unfortunately, at the end of the day, Francis didn’t pay you any mind. You gave him a soft smile through the glass before asking him about his day.
“I hope work is treating you well.” You pitched your voice up to sound cuter. Your graceful hands moved swiftly as you sifted through the many layers of documents, trying to organize them before your next neighbor. “Yeah, I suppose.” He answered, blinking rather slowly. Your smile widened. “Any days off soon? I’d like to see you outside of your uniform.” You winked at him and he just shrugged. “Dunno.”
“Well, maybe, sometime after your hard work, you tell me a day you’d think you would be free?”
You waited with anticipation for his response. He seemed rather confused and it was rather adorable. Then he said “I don’t really know. I think I’m busy but I’ll let you know if that changes.”
Your smile faltered just a little but you were good at faking emotions. “Oh, no worries.” You waved him off in a playful manner before pressing the button to allow him inside. Your shift ended and you thought that you should probably get to making that dinner for him as a ‘thank you’ for the free milk. As you began to clean up, the pressure of your job began to set in. This wasn’t something that you could just quit if Francis were to reject you. Ignoring all the unexplainable noises, the dark figures, and the constant feeling of being watched, it would be very awkward seeing him every day after that.
It was a new day. Francis came to check into the building and you let him go without chatting with him because you didn’t want to seem like a bother. But…then you saw him again.
“Francis?” You cutely tilted your head. The way he looked at you was much different than usual. The Francis you knew could barely make meaningful eye contact with you but right now he had no problem burning holes into your skull with his eyes. Not only that but he was visibly bigger as well. Taller and more masculine. His arms were big and veiny. This was NOT Francis Mosses.
“I-ID…?” You gave a nervous half-smile as you tried to hide your stutter. The humanoid creature gawked, a subtle sense of happiness washing over its face the longer it stayed there. “Don’t have it on me.” It replied plainly. You picked up the clipboard before exing out the box that was labeled “ID.”
“W-Well, you seem to look a lot like someone who’s already checked in. Please, give me a moment to confirm.” You flashed it a close-eyed smile. Upon seeing it, the fake Francis moved closer to the window, fogging it up with its mouth breathing.
You pressed the big red button to close the shutter before dialing the number to the D.D.D.
The representative told you someone would be over right away to dispose of the doppelgänger. It only took about a minute before they’d arrive. Normally, the shutter would open on its own after being reset by the D.D.D. member but for some reason, it didn’t You figured that now would be a good time to open it to help the last neighbors but when you did, you were not met with the hazmat suit you were so familiar with.
In front of you was the same fake Francis from before, now covered in some blood. His expression was one of annoyance and the veins in his arms were pulsating as if he were trying to contain some kind of anger.
“E-Excuse me, but you need to—!”
“Let me in.”
Your heart dropped. It talked! And it sounded just like Francis too.
You shook your head. “N-No! I’m not letting a monster in.” You reached for the number to re-dial the number again.
“But I think you look so pretty today. You wore that just for me, huh? I’d love to t-tear it off of you.” The creature’s neck involuntarily cracked its neck, twisting it in a demonic way. You screamed at the sight, pressing the button once more to close the shutters so that you wouldn’t have to see it. As they went down, the doppelgänger tried to stop it by putting his hand under it. It got caught in the track, causing it to get stuck on the track and it was open halfway.
“Come on, Darling, I know you’re not about to call those bastards again. I don’t want to have to hurt anyone else.” The large man-creature crouched down. You could see his fanged canine teeth poking out of his mouth. You backed away from the window with the telephone in hand.
3312…
You listened to the dial tone for a few seconds before the receptionist answered.
“Hello?”
“P-Please send help!” You cried over the phone. Tears began to spill out of your eyes upon hearing the squeal of metal as the predator stretched and bent it to his will. The glass was the only thing left that could stop him from entering.
You saw how abnormally long his tongue was when it glided over his lips. “I just want to taste you…”
The receptionist dispatched another group of workers to help dispose of the doppelgänger. They arrived almost instantly. It was only then that the fake Francis moved away from the window. You sighed in relief, trying to calm yourself down from the events that transpired. You ran over to the tempered glass. The mental door looked like sheet paper.
You saw no trace of the Hazmat people but you also didn’t see the fake Francis anymore. You quickly gathered your things and rushed to leave. You opened the door to let yourself out. You planned to run to your room and lock the door but as soon as you had left the room, you bumped into a stiff, toned chest. The figure grabbed you by your neck and forced you to look at them. The gloved hand was covered in blood and it stained your skin and the collar of your dress.
“Where do you think you’re going, Princess?”
His grip around your throat was so tight that you weren’t able to form words. It was completely covered in blood and in its other hand was a knife dripping with blood as well. It kept the violence to one side of the room so that you weren’t able to see anything unless you completely left the screening room.
The light clank of the knife hitting the ground could be heard and its newly free hand grabbed your waist. The doppelgänger hugged you to its masculine chest. Its head rested itself on top of yours before it planted its nose in the crown of your head before inhaling your scent deeply. The blaring sound of the alarm continued to go off and it was deafening.
Your nose was overloaded with the scent of fresh blood. The pure shock didn’t let you resist his touch. His grip loosened and you dropped everything you had in your hands on the floor, staining it in with the red substance
“P-Please.”
You felt its large hand around the back of your neck and you feared that it would snap it and kill you any second. You held your breath as you felt it set the other hand on your waist as well, rubbing it gingerly.
It felt like the doppelgänger was sizing you up to see if you’d be a good enough meal for it.
“He-ey, beautiful. It's… okay…”
The doppelgänger’s speech was somewhat disconnected but it was fluid for the most part. At first, it was clear he was a fake but the more he kept talking, the more it sounded like the real thing…like it was learning in real time.
Your heart rate accelerated when you felt its hand travel ever so slowly from your waist to the collar of your dress. The inhuman smile on its face widened and it suddenly ripped the cloth that covered your torso. You gasped, instinctively covering your now exposed bra.
You wiggled out of its grip and used the opportunity to run. You kicked off your pumps and ran barefoot to your apartment. All you could do was hope that more of the D.D.D. would come and solve the issue before anyone else could get hurt. The emergency alarm was still going off so the authorities should be there soon.
When you arrived at your door, you tried to scramble to look for your keys so that you could get inside but…
…you remembered that you dropped them along with the rest of your possessions.
The sound of heavy footsteps approaching behind you. The large shadow engulfed your smaller form.
“Allow me.” The stranger said, calmly. Their large fist went through the door handle, shattering the lock and making it completely useless. You were too shocked to try running again. It found you.
The doppelganger shoved you against the door, swinging it open and causing you to fall forward inside of your home. You hit the floor with a soft but swift thud. “I see the way you look at him.” Its voice was laced with venom—anger but left more to be desired. It was playing with you awfully long for a creature that was trying to kill you.
“But you’d never look at me that way…”
The Fake Francis entered the apartment making sure to secure the door behind it so that you couldn’t run anymore. You cried and whimpered as it took its sweet time pushing your bookcase in front of the door so no one would intervene with what was supposed to happen next.
“I-I don’t know what you’re—” You couldn’t even finish your sentence as it smashed its lips into yours. Its tongue was like that of a serpent, slipping its way into your mouth. You tried to push it away but any attempts just resulted in your lips connecting once more. It was too strong.
You were terrified but it passed so much for the real Francis.
“Tell me you don’t like it ‘n I’ll stop.” It whispered into your mouth before it French kissed you once more. You kissed it back, unable to resist his appearance any longer. When it pulled away, a string of saliva connected between both of your mouths. It’s warm breath hits the surface of your face, eyes full of lust and horror.
It’s soft lips attached themselves to your neck, biting and sucking until your skin slowly began turning red. “Mmm.” It hummed deeply, traveling lower and lower until it reached the cavern between your breasts. “You’re sensitive here, aren’t you?” It placed kisses in the valley of your chest, waiting for a reply. You were unable to form words at this point. It wanted to ravage you and steal your innocence. It took your idleness as consent, continuing on with satisfying itself and by extension, satisfying you.
It took the delicate hand you had been using to drive a wedge between the both of you. You thought that at this point it was going to break your arm! You squeezed your eyes shut, ready to endure the pain but…it didn’t. You felt the heated bulge beneath it’s bloodied white trousers. It throbbed.
That’s when it finally clicked for you. It wasn’t playing with you like you were food. It wasn’t trying to taste you and pick it’s teeth with your bones. It wanted to be with you. To breed you.
“I—ah~♡!” You bit down on your lip to contain the pretty moans that left your mouth. Your bra was removed, fully exposing your breasts. Its tongue touched the tip of your nipple and its mouth enveloped over your entire areola. It licked and sucked on the bud until it was nice and hard. The other hand was subtly slipped under your dress.
It took barely any strength at all to rip the fabric, showing how inappropriately wet you’d become from this activity. It craved the essence that was oozing from your tiny cunt.
At the feeling of the cold wind, you brought your legs together just to have them forced apart again. The creature made you feel so small and vulnerable. It used force when it felt necessary but overall, it was….soft. Licking, kissing, biting but no drawing blood, taste, loving.
It salivated at your legs, raising one and nuzzling the side of its face into the smooth skin. “So…gorgeous.” It pulled you forward. “When I saw you, I knew I wanted you.”
“Y-You did…?” You squeaked. It’s touch sent goosebumps from your limp to the rest of your body. “Two years I’ve been watching you. It was so damn annoying seeing you talk to that piece of meat.”
Piece of meat?
“I don’t know who you mean.” You shied away from the perfect creature. Could it mean…
“F-Francis?” You knitted your eyes together in confusion.
“Yes—HIM!” The doppelgänger dropped your leg and pulled you by your thighs to its crotch. “…I could never decide what skin would be the best to pursue you in. But then I’d see the way you look at him.” Pre-cum was beginning to show from its member inside. You could feel the wet fabric on the lips of your hot cunt. “So, I became him…but better.”
You heard the subtle unzipping sound of the pants and it took out its thick cock. It was larger than normal and didn't look like the standard male genitalia. You’d need to use both hands to hold it.
There was no denying this thing could perfectly replicate a human man. Before you could even react, the big “man” picked you up by your hair.
“Get on your knees.” He commanded and you felt obligated to obey him. You’ve never been in a situation where you were being held up by a man like this.
“I’m gonna split you in half with this cock.” He pushed its large tip against your cheek, straining it with warm cum. “Open your mouth.”
Your lips parted for a moment but you hesitated. There was no way that whole thing could fit into your mouth. Your eyes traveled up to his for guidance. He only stared down at you with hard, tired eyes. The corner of his mouth tugged upward into a smirk.
“I said…open your mouth.”
He spoke through his teeth as if it were a threat. You were reluctant but tried to ease it in. You kissed his tip, causing him to grunt and tighten his fist around your hair. “Open.” He growled, yanking your head back. His cock was so close to your face that you could truly take in its side. It was nearly the length of your skull.
You opened your mouth out of fear and he shoved it inside. He was kind enough to let you get used to it in your throat by going soft and slow…or maybe he was just distracted by the imprint showing on your throat.
You grabbed his hips to keep yourself from falling backward. Even a bit of force made you lose your balance. “Good girl.” He sighed, relaxing into you, pushing the limits by pushing it deeper. Your choking and gagging only made him feel pleasure.
“You struggling with my dick in your mouth is so hot.” You heard him mutter under his breath. Your eyes began to water from the choking, causing tears to carry mascara down your cheeks.
“Keep sucking.” He fucked into your throat and gentle too. “I’m close.”
Both of his hands found themselves on the back of your head. He sped up his pace until a loud groan emitted from his chest and a mysterious liquid found its way down your throat.
The doppelgänger let go of your hair. You fell back on your bottom and he crouched down. “Hey.” He called, grabbed both sides of your face with one hand. He squeezed your cheeks together. “Swallow.”
You swallowed what was left and once he knew it was in your belly, his lips crashed into yours. His tongue wormed its way into your mouth and explored every cavern.
You felt yourself get lifted again but this time to your feet. He walked you over to your dining table and shoved you into it. “Bend over.”
You didn’t really get a choice. When you tried to stand, he forced you down to the table with his hand on the back of your head.
You expected him to say something, but he stayed silent. You felt him explore your backside from your hips to your exposed ass. The wind was so cold but his hands were so warm.
He chuckled darkly, spreading your ass cheeks and sticking his shaft in between. His dick was so much bigger than you that you would definitely have a belly bulge because of it. He wanted to experience it for himself.
You waited with silent anticipation for him what he would do next. You weren’t too sexually active anymore because you wanted to reserve that for the real Francis, if you ever got the chance with him, so you were really nervous about having something so big inside.
“Uah!” You squeaked, feeling a wet, warm muscle enter the deepest part of your cunt. It was his tongue!
You whipped your head around to see that his face was buried in you from behind. “Mmm.” You heard him hum vibrations into you. He consumed all of your juices as they came out. It must’ve tasted so good coming from a pretty human like you.
With every moan and whimper that left your mouth, it made his dick grow harder and harder. He didn’t stop until you had creamed all over his tongue. So much came out that it got all over his face too.
“I-Is that it? Is that what you want…?” You asked, but you were only ignored.
“Pick a hole.”
“Wh-wha—“
“Pick a hole, or I will.”
Pick…a hole…?
His large thumb massaged your asshole while his knuckles, now sleek with your cream, was stimulating your pussy.
“Um…I—“
“Both it is!”
Your eyes widened. “Wait, what?!”
You felt his thumb sink deep into your ass while he struggled to get his large tip into your pussy. “Damn you’re fucking tight.” He growled through his teeth. His free hand grabbed your ass, fingers sinking in so deep they’d leave marks.
“W-Wait, you have to go slow!” You cried, face heating up from being touched in such filthy ways. “I am.” He grumbled, pushing the limits of your vagina by forcing himself inside. Despite going at the pace of a snail, the pain of trying to fit himself inside didn’t decrease at all. You helplessly clawed at the table beneath you. It didn’t matter how wet you were. He was too big.
It took a moment but he was able to get it. It slipped in with much ease on his end but the difference inside made you gasp so hard you needed to cover your mouth.
The doppelgänger began thrusting without warning, quickly overstimulating you. You could feel him in your stomach too. You reach back to push him off of you but he just grabbed your arm and kept it. There wasn’t much you could do to get someone this big off of you. You would only take it.
“P-Please…I can’t take it!” You gapped out, drool escaped your mouth as you tried to form words. He was fucking you so hard you couldn’t even think. All that could be heard around the room was the lewd slapping of his filled balls against the bottom of your pussy.
“Beg for it then. Say you love me.” His breath hitched. “Say you want me and I’ll let you go.”
“I—“ Slap!
You tried to speak. “I wa—“ Slap!
It seemed that when you tried to comply with him, he’d remove the hand playing with your asshole to leave a rough, skin-reddening slap on your ass. Your struggling amused him. He couldn’t help but smile.
The doppelgänger has been stalking you for so long. It was hard getting into your apartment normally because of the last doorman but he couldn’t resist you once you were sitting at that desk.
“What’s wrong?” He teased, his deep voice going soft. “My dick isn’t in your mouth anymore…so what’s the issue?” He chuckled. “Beg.”
“I want you!” You blurted out.
“You…want me? Say there’s no one else. Say you love me!” It was like music to his ears, really. It was helping him reach his climax.
“I…I love you—“
“FUCK!”
Your belly bulge quickly became bigger as his cum painted your walls and womb. Even with his dick growing more flaccid, he continued to fuck his cum into you so that you both knew who you belonged to now. Tears spilled out of your eyes as you squirted onto his cock, mixing your juices together.
“I love you too, Princess. More than you could ever imagine—“ Before he could finish, his ears perked up almost like an animal. His attention turned towards your door that he had destroyed before. “Here they come.” He muttered, putting his member back into his pants.
You weakly lifted yourself from the table. Your hand placed itself tight below your navel. It was so sore now. “Who’s coming…? What are you talking about…?”
The doppelgänger ignored you, its horns flesh and bones began contorting and changing color. Its physique turned from that of a huge masculine man to the familiar form of that of a D.D.D. member. Yellow suit and all.
It ran to the door, opening it, and sticking its head out. “I found her, she's in here!” Its voice changed to a generic man as well. Not at all like the deep gruff from before.
Your legs felt like jelly, you fell to the ground as soon as you were able to stand. They were numb from the pleasure, leaving you unable to walk.
What happened next went by as a blur. The D.D.D. Reinforcement Team took you to a hospital where you were taken care of and given rape kit. You were unable to refuse it once the forensics team found semen at the scene. In order to maintain faith in the D.D.D., your assault was largely covered up but only those who were in the apartment that day knew about it.
After the commotion of filing our paperwork and giving information, you were sent home. You didn’t sustain any life threatening injuries but you were asked to come in periodically to see how your body would react to having the semen of a doppelgänger inside of you…so now you were a bit of a test subject to them. You quit the job after that but you were quickly replaced by a new guy.
You hadn’t seen the doppelgänger the entire time. Or at least, you thought you didn’t. You wanted to process the situation but you were more confused as to why it craved so much validation from you. It wanted you to say you loved it. It wanted you to say that you wanted it. It said that it’s been waiting two years to be this close to you. It looked like Francis.
You had just arrived back home. Carpenters quickly replaced your door before you got home and you decided to continue life as usual by making dinner for yourself. Your heart still aches from the fear you felt when you thought you were going to die. And so did your vagina. It didn’t bleed, thank god, but it was sore to the touch from how big that monster was.
“Man, I thought you’d never come back.”
You were alone in your kitchen when a voice emitted from behind you. The familiarity in the voice made your heart drop. You quickly turned around to see the doppelgänger from before, masquerading as Francis again.
“What are you doing here? What do you—“
“Shh, princess.” He strided through your small kitchen, stepping so close to you that you were against the counter with nowhere else to go. You placed your hands on his chest, giving you the illusion that you could push him away. He grabbed your arm by the wrist before kissing the inside of your palm. He kissed your fingers and then the back of your hand before making you cup his cheek, which he nuzzled into lovingly.
You wanted to rip your hand away but his grip was so strong. You blushed. Was it wrong to admit that he…it, was attractive?
“Why didn’t you kill me and eat me? Why did you do that to me?” You questioned meekly. His eyes were closed, enjoying your warm touch with a smile before they opened. His eyes were like hunter's eyes. “Because I love you.” He replied flatly.
“I don’t know what that means…”
You opened your mouth to speak again but you were cut off by a knock at your door.
“I’ll get it.” The doppelgänger quickly said and in a mere second, it shapeshifted to turn into…you. It was able to mimic you in all your glory, including the hickeys, bites and bruises from your attack.
“No!” You blurted out. “Don’t do that.”
The doppelgänger allowed you to move away from it and your arm fell to your side. You went to get the door but you made sure to check who it was before opening.
It was Francis!
“It’s him!” You hurried to your bedroom to find your cardigan to cover your tattered clothes before answering the door.
“Francis? What brings you here?” You forced a smile but your eyes looked just as tired as his. You couldn’t hide anything from him.
“I heard what happened. ‘m so glad you’re okay.” Francis sighed, quickly invading your personal space. He hugged you to his chest. You blinked “F-Francis…?”
“I felt all torn up when I thought you died but when I heard that you were just fine, I just had to come see you myself.” Your stomach burned with delight. Francis was worried about you?
Francis let go of you and you pulled away. His face was red like he was blushing and you couldn’t help but blush too. Your lips curled into a smile. “W-Well, I’m a lot tougher than I look.”
He wanted to smile back but he couldn’t. He saw the marks on your skin. You were hurt. “I know you are.” He masked his sadness with a weak smile. He rested his hand on your head and ruffled it a bit.
It would probably be inappropriate for him to admit that he’s actually had feelings for you all this time, so he’d save it for another day. Hearing the news about the doppelgänger through gossip during his job of going door to door made him realize he could lose you at any moment. But today, he settled with placing a kiss at the crown of your head. “Stay safe. I’ll check on you again later.”
For a moment, everything in your life went still. Even after he had walked away and left you standing there, it didn’t feel real. This more or less confirmed he had a crush on you as well. No man just does that and doesn’t see you as more than just a neighbor.
Your heart fluttered as you came back to reality. You slipped back inside of your home. You need to get cleaned up! You had to bathe and find something suitable just in case Francis wanted to come inside upon your next meeting.
But then….
“You look awfully happy.”
The doppelgänger was still here. You gulped, seeing his much bigger form. He grabbed the sides of your face with his hand again. He didn’t bother crouching because of your size difference, leaving you standing on the tips of your toes.
You were too shocked to try defending yourself, so he continued. “I saw everything so don’t even try to lie. That bastard is so lucky that I have to lay low until the D.D.D. gets their claws out of you or else I would’ve…”
“Don’t hurt him!” You tried to beat and punch his arm to get him off but he didn’t budge. “Why not?!”
“Because…I’ll be sad. And you don’t want me to be sad, do you?” Your voice was unlabeled and lacked confidence. It was a Hail Mary but you’d do anything to prevent Francis from getting hurt.
“Shit.” The doppelgänger let go of you, setting you back on your feet. It seemed…conflicted. He paced around your living room briefly. It had a soft spot for you but you could tell it has trouble processing emotions like a person. It was just imitating a person to get what it wanted.
“You don’t want him. You just wanna marry a guy. I’ll marry you.”
You shook your head. “No. Y-You can’t. You’re not him.”
“Of course I am.” His expression became mischievous. A smirk settled on his handsome face. “You can even call me Francis in bed if it fancies you.”
You felt your stomach do a flip!
“No! I’m not calling you that. Even though you look just like him…wh-what do I call you anyway…?” You retreated inward, hugging yourself and looking quite nervous as if the situation was beginning to dawn on you. You were currently desired by one of the most dangerous beings in the world.
“Francis.”
“Stop! I’m never using that name for you.” You got angry enough to shove him but he didn’t move an inch. You quickly realized that you shouldn’t push too hard or else it might change its mind and kill you.
“Mmm….” You pursed your lips, avoiding eye contact with the monster. “Wh-What about Franz? Is that good enough for you…?”
Franz, huh?
“Perfect.”
Tagged Folks: @z3r0art @chilifrylizard2
#that's not my neighbor#thats not my neighbor#francis mosses#Francis Mosses x reader#Milk Man#Milk man x reader#Yandere Milk Man x Reader#Yandere francis mosses#tnmn#doppleganger#dark romance
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"What's wrong, sweetie?" Sylus, the leader of Onychinus, once most loathed creature of Tarus City, looks and sounds almost unrecognisable as he stares down at his sniffling beloved, with crimson eyes that twinkle with specks of admiration, yearning and concern. His strong arms, so used to battles and defending himself from acts of violence, now cradling his treasured lover ever so kindly and tenderly. His voice, often rough and speaking out of pain and anger, hardly louder than a decibel and soft enough to lull an infant to sleep when he speaks to her.
His calloused fingers comb through her hair, and he reminds himself to ask her another time if he could braid her hair, just like when they were in the Grasslands. But not right now, not when his other hand is occupied with rubbing the small of her back in soothing circles. His actions has practically turned her body into putty, melting it deeper against the mould of his body as she lays atop him, face buried into cotton of his shirt. She looks so vulnerable at this very moment, a little different from the fearless hunter everyone is accustomed to seeing and knowing. He feels the atoms of anger (on her behalf) and natural protectiveness form in his chest as he tries to think of what possibly could have upset his lover tonight. This damned world is undeserving of her, he thinks, so he tries his best to fill in the cracks the world has left her with.
"Everything has been so tough," her tiny voice answers. In the midst of the ever-changing, Sylus seems to be the only constant she has. It feels like as everything is against her, and he is the only one for her. "I'm so scared," her voice barely audible, yet Sylus doesn't miss the crack at the end of her sentence. Instinctively, his palm stops its ministrations of the gentle circles on her back. His knuckles now bending ever so slightly to clutch onto her back more protectively.
"What can I do to make you feel better, sweetie?" His voice is low, the vibrations grumbling from his chest against her own. Almost desperate to make her feel better, he starts peppering kisses into her hair. It's a win-win, Sylus thinks. While she finds some comfort in his affection, he gets to indulge in the faint smell of her strawberry shampoo and the way she melts further into his body. It causes his hold to tighten around her. "What can I do to make you feel... less afraid? Safer, if you will," he asks, noting her admission of fear.
She pauses, as if to think, then moves to rest her chin on his chest as she stares at him for moment. They simply gaze into each other's eyes, a silent language both of them are fluent in. Sylus doesn't want to get ahead of himself, but could it be that her eyes are mirroring his; the way it screams of pure and true love. Sylus knows that without a doubt that he'd love her even if it was never reciprocated, so when the familiar gaze is reflected in her eyes, a breath gets stuck in his throat. He clears his throat, fingers brushing away a lock of her hair, "What is it, beloved?"
She stays silent for a moment more, and Sylus bears in mind the way he grows a little nervous under her loving yet intense gaze, though he tries to mask it with a raised brow. "Well?" Her hand finds his own that had tucked her hair away, bringing it to her cheek. Like clockwork, Sylus moulds his palm against her soft cheek, his thumb grazing the smooth skin.
"I think I only feel safe with you."
It knocks the wind out of him. Sylus is self-aware of his reputation- once, he was the creature so feared by humans that it ignighted much self loathing. And even now, people fear him as the infamous figure that breathed danger in the N109 Zone. Sure, it is for different reasons now, but Sylus has always felt to be synonymous with Monster.
"With me?" he repeats, a crease forming between his brows as his heart begins to pound against his chest. She simply nods and confirms, "Yes." One word to cause a visceral reaction in his heart.
She doesn't say anything more and doesn't elaborate, and Sylus is far too taken aback to push it further either. Thinks he needs a moment to himself to take in this revelation. A monster like me... that is what makes her feel safe? He sighs, shakes his head as if to deem herself almost foolish for feeling as such. there could be trillions of creatures in the entire universe, and she would be the sole one who'd find safety with him.
And if Sylus hadn't already made it his mission to keep her in safety, he makes a silent oath with himself at the moment; he'll protect her until his dying breath. This woman shall never have to worry for as long as she decides that he lives.
He pulls her in impossibly tighter, "That's the first time someone said those words to me." He echoes words he has said before (albeit she doesn't and won't remember a thing) and he reminisces the memory for a bit. The same way she sees the beauty in him, the similar softness she so graciously graces him with - such a stark contrast from what others are to him. It reaffirms to him though, that she is his one true soulmate, across all universes and through time. He'd burn the world for her take a claymore to his chest, if ever need be. In the previous and present lives, she would always be kind to him and he would always be hers.
She hums, then nuzzles her nose against the crook of his neck where she presses the petals of her lips against his warm skin. "Well, everyone else doesn't know you like I do." she mumbles, and sylus chuckles.
The whole world can cower in fear and misjudge him, for all he cares. He is simply Sylus in her eyes, "I don't want anyone else to know me like you do."
#ok some might think this is a bit ooc for sylus#but after his myth drop i truly think sylus is more vulnerable and soft than we think he is#like he is SO soft and in love that i think he'd even cry during s*x#anyways i love sylus even more after this myth drop#i want to keep this 190cm man in my pocket and kiss him 10 every 5 mins#sylus x reader#sylus#lnds#lads#sylus love and deepspace#sylus fluff
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I wanna see how the monster trip would react to their partner begging for round two..
maybe I'm just dirty or smth but I really wanna see Sanji's nose bleed /j
ahaha making sanji nosebleed is kinda my passion /hj
🌙thinkin' about: the monster trio! vs round two!
cw: pussydrunk boys. nsfw thoughts include: cunnilingus, creampie, overstimulation, cocky men, doin' it raw. oh, and pussydrunk men. okay, thats it. MDNI OR ILL HUNT YOUR PETTY ASSES. m.list
monkey d. luffy:
❤️monkey d. luffy knew — from the bottom of his heart — that you were the girl of his dreams. there was no doubt about that. the way you smiled at him, the way you pouted when he would annoy you, the way you happened to lecture him when he would act reckless. you were his, no doubt. ❤️but holy fucking shit. looking at you all bleary-eyed and tongue-tied, he almost felt his heart rip him apart whole. looking up at him with such a desperate look that it almost knocked the wind right of his lungs and replaced the air he breathed with something much more sinister. what did you want of him? he was all yours from the very start. ❤️covered in sheen, strands of jet-black clung to his forehead and his heavy breath fanned over you spent face. his cock had stayed buried within you despite painting your walls white a few minutes prior. despite making you cum twice already. shifting his weight on his elbows, he bent down to press open-mouthed kisses all over your pretty face. and as he felt weak nails breaking the skin of his biceps, his eyes met yours, "what's wrong, peach?" "l-luff," your voice stuttered, and he almost grinned at the the sweet falsetto, "hm?" "'nother round, please?" ❤️and how could monkey d. luffy say no to the girl of his dreams? grinning ear to ear, his larger palm intertwined against your weak ones. bringing you dainty palm up to his lips, he pressed down a messy kiss just as his hips pistoned into your cushiony heat, "ah ah, luffy. fuck—" "shh." a delirious smile on his face, lust-induced haze in his eyes, and your name on his lips, "don't need'ta say twice, baby."
roronoa zoro:
💚as a swordsman, roronoa zoro revered himself to be a man that could mask all emotions, all calculations behind a stoic look-of-stone. but were you so well-versed in him that you could read his mind? seemed like that since you were begging for the very thing he was ready to give. "zo." you looked over your shoulder, a stern twinge in your words despite your trembling lips and teary eyes, "again, please." "ha-hah, again?" his thumb circled your twitching clit, enjoying the way you squirmed under him with every wicked swipe over your overstimulated cunt. faux concern on his tongue, he teased you, "think you can handle it?" "yes. another round, please." bobbing your head up and down so fast, looking back at him with such raw emotion that he felt a lump in his heart where you were. fuck, why did you have to be so pretty? 💚snuggling his face deeper into the crook of your neck, his heady words accompanied the frenzied touches across your swollen clit, "might regret it later when you can't walk." "i don' care, zo— want you." you whined, your sweet voice so close to his ears. and who does he think he is that he can say no to you? nothing. he's a fool at your hands, always. 💚 and you should really be careful what you wished for. because as the swordsman dragged his tip all the way out just to push it right back in all of a sudden jolted you forward. your moans muffled as you bit down the pillow, "s-slow down, zo— ngh fu—" "c'mon," he purred, words strained as he tried to maintain whatever sanity he had, "you asked for this."
vinsmoke sanji:
he has a nosebleed as soon as you call out his name in that weak voice of yours but let's pretend he's got game. 💙vinsmoke sanji treated you like you were glass in battles. scared of out his wits that one wayward shove, one reckless pull and you would shatter. but what a fucking hypocrite he was! becausr right now, he was the one wrecking you. experienced fingers curling within your plushy heat, his tongue toying with your swollen clit as his eyes watched the woman over him fall apart. "hah, fuck." you panted, walls clenching around his fingers dangerously as nectar pooled from your divine body down his greedy throat. he almost felt himself come undone as your feeble voice called out his name. 💙he knew the routine by now. vinsmoke sanji would lap away at you like a man starve as you will try to pry him off by squirming and pulling his hair. in retaliation, he would grab your thighs harder and continue eating you out till you cried out his name loud enough for everyone to hear. simple enough, right? 💙but right now as he looked up at you, he didn't find you clenching your eyes and trying to pry him off. instead, you met his eyes with a hungry glint. reddened, kiss-bitten lips commanding him, "sanji, again." "hm?" his eyes widened, and as he pulled back, your slick shined on his lips and jaw. he looked up, grinning like the devil, "what did you say, my love?" at his sudden inspection, your throat closed up. voice growing weak, feeble, "a-again?" he answered by sinking his face back against your heat. and the last thing you heard before you lost all semblance of sanity was a rough rumble of, "again."
a/n: NOT PROOFREAD, IM LEGIT GOING OUT WITH FRIENDS IN LIKE 2 MINS AND I NEEDED TO POST THIS BEFORE I LEAVE AAAAAH anyways. ahem, ahem. am i ever gonna get tired of these men? no. so, just enjoy. okay, a genuine question: should i add ace, law to my usual roster [i.e. the monster trio]? i love writing ace so i'm just finding excuses lmaoo and with law, i think it'll give me good practice before i transition into long fics for him. let me know what you think lol. credits: @rookthornesartistry for the dividers! tagging: @mist-ixx [let me know if you'd like to be in the taglist!] m.list
#vix writes <3#one piece#op#opla#zoro smut#sanji smut#luffy smut#roronoa zoro#vinsmoke sanji#zoro x reader#one piece zoro#monkey d luffy#luffy x reader#sanji x reader#the monster trio smut#monster trio smut#one piece smut#opla smut#one piece live action smut#zoro x reader smut#sanji x reader smut#luffy x reader smut#roronoa zoro x reader#vinsmoke sanji x reader#monkey d luffy x reader
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HIS FAVORITE PERSON ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
pairing: bsf!rafe x fem!reader
warnings: angst, rafe having a breakdown, mentions of a dead body, trauma, ward, comfort, slight fluff, kissing, cuddling, inspired by season 2 ep 2 of obx
Rafe’s room was a storm of chaos, just like his mind. His chest heaved as he sat on the floor, back pressed against his bed frame, fingers tugging at his hair like he could somehow yank the thoughts out of his head. His palms were clammy, his heart slamming against his ribs. The body, the ocean, his dad’s cold commands—the images were crushing him. He could still hear the splash, still feel the sick churn in his stomach as they drove away from the scene like nothing had happened. Like it was normal.
But it wasn’t.
“Fuck,” he hissed, slamming a fist into the floor. The pain grounded him for half a second before the panic resurfaced again, boiling over. He couldn’t stay here. He couldn’t be alone in this house with its suffocating walls and memories of what he’d just done. He couldn’t stay under one roof with Ward right now.
Without thinking, Rafe grabbed his car keys and stumbled out the door, the night swallowing him whole. The only place he could go was yours. You were the only one who could calm the chaos, the only one who made him feel like he wasn’t falling apart.
You were deep in your slumber when you were jolted awake by a loud knock at the door. Tired, you checked the time—2:37 a.m. You frowned, your sleep deprived brain struggling to process who would show up at this hour. Dragging yourself out of bed, you shuffled to the door, your favorite oversized t-shirt, one that you stole from Rafe, hanging loosely around your figure. And when you opened the front door, your confusion turned to worry. “Rafe?”
He stood there, his shoulders hunched, his hair a complete mess, and his blue eyes wild with something dark and unhinged. He was pacing on your porch, his breathing uneven, and his hands were shaking. “y/n,” he said, his voice strained, barely above a whisper. “Sorry for bugging you this late, I just—I didn’t know where else to go.”
“Rafe, what’s wrong?” You asked, stepping forward. He looked up at you, his expression haunted. “I did something. Something bad. Really bad.” Your heart sank, eyebrows furrowing, “You’re scaring me.” Rafe was always intense—impulsive, reckless—but this was different. He looked broken, like he was barely holding himself together. You reached out, grabbing his arm to steady him.
“Come inside,” you urged, but he shook his head violently. “No. I can’t—I can’t breathe in there. I can’t breathe anywhere.” His voice cracked, and he backed away, running a hand through his hair as he began muttering. “He’s insane, y/n. My dad is insane, and now I’m—I’m just like him. I helped him. I didn’t want to, but I did, and now—”
“Rafe, slow down,” you said firmly, not understanding a single thing before stepping in front of him. “You’re not making any sense. Just talk to me. What happened?” He stopped pacing, his eyes locking onto yours. “A body,” he said, his voice barely audible. “We got rid of a body.” Your blood ran cold. “What?”
He let out a hollow laugh, his hands trembling as he pressed them to his temples. “It doesn’t matter. It’s done. I did it. I helped him dump it into the ocean like it was nothing. Like it was trash.” His voice grew louder, more frantic. “And now I can’t stop hearing it. I can’t stop seeing it. It’s everywhere.” You stood there, stunned, mind racing to catch up. Rafe was unraveling in front of you, and you had no idea how to help him. “Rafe—”
“I’m a monster,” he interrupted, his voice rising. “I’m just like him. I didn’t even hesitate, y/n. What kind of person does that? What kind of person—”
“Rafe, stop!” You snapped, grabbing his face and forcing him to look at you. His breathing hitched, his wild eyes meeting your comforting ones. “You are not a monster. You’re—” you faltered, unsure what to say. “You’re you. And whatever this is, whatever happened, we’ll deal with it.“ You nodded, saying it more to yourself than him.
Rafe shook his head, his voice breaking. “You don’t get it. You don’t know what I’ve done.” His whole body was trembling. “Then tell me,” you said, your voice softer now. “Tell me everything.” He stared at you, torn between fear and desperation. “I can’t,” he whispered. “I can’t lose you too.”
Your heart twisted painfully. You’d never seen Rafe like this, so vulnerable and raw. And yet, there was something else—a connection that had always been there, just right beneath the surface of your friendship. You’ve been best friends since forever, sure, but you weren’t just friends. Not with the way you looked at each other, the way you touched and held each other like it was normal.
Without thinking, you closed the gap between you two and kissed him. You’d kissed before—dozens of times, maybe more. It had always been casual, something you would do to calm each other down or just because it felt natural. It was soft and deliberate, a reminder that you were here, that you weren’t going anywhere.
When you pulled back, Rafe’s breathing slowed, his hands coming up to rest on your waist like he was grounding himself in you. He leaned forward, stealing another kiss, then another, his lips brushing yours with a quiet desperation while tears fled the corner of his eyes. Trying to shut up the voices in his head, and you didn’t mind. You never did. That’s just how things between you were and neither of you had questioned it before.
“Thank you,” he murmured, his forehead resting against yours.“You don’t need to thank me, Rafe.” you whispered back. “Now come inside.”
In your room, you pulled Rafe onto your bed, wrapping the blankets around the both of you as you settled in. He curled into you, his head resting against your chest, as you tried to give him as much comfort as possible, your fingers tracing soothing circles on his back.
You held him close, your arms wrapped tightly around his body as his breathing finally began to even out. The storm of his panic had calmed, but his weight against you felt heavier than ever, like he was carrying something too big for either of you to handle. You didn’t know what to say—what could you say? His words kept ringing in your ears. A body. Dumped it in the ocean. You shivered, though the room wasn’t cold.
Rafe’s head was tucked under your chin, his breath warm against your collarbone. He was silent now, but his body still trembled faintly. You tightened your hold on him, resting your cheek against the top of his head. You’d always thought of yourself as his anchor, the person who could pull him back when he started spinning out. But tonight felt different. Tonight, it felt like you were trying to piece together an already broken vase.
Your fingers absentmindedly combed through his messy blonde hair. You’d been best friends since kindergarden, your lives so deeply intertwined it was hard to tell where one of you ended and the other began. But your friendship wasn’t normal, and you began to acknowledge that as time passed. Friends didn’t kiss to calm each other down. Friends didn’t fall asleep in each other’s arms, your touches lingering in a way that always felt like it meant more.
You weren’t just friends, you thought, the truth settling heavily in your chest. But whatever you were, figuring it out had to wait. Rafe needed you now, more than ever, and you couldn’t let him down.
You closed your eyes, breathing him in, the faint scent of saltwater and his cologne clinging to him. “You’re going to be okay,” you whispered, trying to convince both of you. You wanted to believe it, but the fear in his eyes earlier had shaken you to your core.
He didn't say anything, but his arms tightened around you, his head pressing harder against your chest. You didn't push him to speak. You just stayed there, holding him, trying to give him the comfort he so clearly needed. But the storm in his head wouldn't stop. He needed more—needed to feel you, to ground himself in you, to find something real in his world that suddenly felt like it was falling apart.
Without thinking, Rafe shifted, pulling you down to him. Before you could process what was happening, his lips were on yours again, and for a moment, he could escape reality. At first, you thought it would be like the kisses you’d shared earlier—soft and grounding, something to pull him out of his head and bring him back to you.
So you started to respond instinctively, heart beating a little faster. But it wasn't enough for Rafe. The panic clawed at his chest, and his kiss grew desperate, frantic, as if he could pour everything he couldn't say into you. Rafe thought maybe this was what he needed. Maybe you were what he needed. Because it had always been you. The only person who saw him, who really knew him.
Your breath hitched, heart pounding in your chest. You couldn't deny what it did to you—the way your stomach flipped, the way your hands instinctively gripped his arms as his lips moved against yours. You couldn't ignore how your feelings for Rafe had grown into something far more complicated than friendship. But this wasn't right. Not now. Not when he was like this.
"Rafe," you murmured against his lips, hands coming up to his shoulders to gently push him back. He resisted for a moment, his desperation endless, but then he pulled away, his eyes wide and glassy as they searched yours.
"y/n," he whispered, his voice cracking. For a moment, Rafe just stared at you, your hesitation hitting him like a punch to the gut. You weren’t rejecting him, not really. He could see the worry in your eyes, the care. You were right, but it still shattered something inside him. This wasn't what he needed right now. And it wasn't what you deserved, either.
"You need to rest," you said softly, stroking his cheek with your thumb. "You're not doing fine right now, and that's okay. But this—it's not right like that."
He stared at you, his expression crumbling as the reality of your words sank in. He'd come here hoping to escape the weight of what he'd done, hoping that you could fix him the way you always had. But nothing could fix this. His chest heaved, and then, all at once, he broke.
A raw, heart-wrenching sob tore from his throat, and he dropped his head into his hands, his entire body shaking. Your heart ached at the sound of his sobs, and you reached for him immediately, pulling him into your arms again. He clung to you, burying his face in your shoulder as his cries wracked his body.
“I'm sorry," he muttered, his voice muffled and strained as his chest felt heavy. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have come here. I shouldn't have-"
"Stop," you interrupted gently, your hand threading through his dirty blond hair. "Don't apologize. You're allowed to feel, Rafe. I'm here." Rafe tried to believe you, tried to hold onto your words, but the guilt was suffocating. “I shouldn't drag you into this," he said, his voice breaking. "I shouldn't have put this on you.”
"Shh," you whispered, holding him tighter. "You just need to breathe, okay?” Rafe let out a shaky breath, his tears soaking into your shirt as his sobs began to calm.
You kept holding him, your heart breaking for the boy who had always seemed so untouchable, so invincible. You could feel all his shame, his guilt, his fear, and you wished you could take it away, even just for a little while.
Rafe shifted slightly, his arm wrapping around your waist like he was afraid you might disappear. “Don’t leave me,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “I’m not going anywhere,” you promised, stroking his back in slow, soothing motions. “I’m scared, y/n,” he admitted finally, sobbing into your chest, “Of what I’ve done. Of what I’ll become. That I’ll be like him.” You shook your head, “You’re not your dad,” you said firmly, your arms tightening around him.
He’s not like Ward. He can’t be. You didn’t care what Rafe had done or how messy his world had become. He wasn’t a monster. He couldn’t be—not the boy who used to sneak you ice cream when you were sad, who called you every time he was having a bad day because he trusted you more than anyone else in the world.
But as much as you wanted to save him, a small, nagging voice in the back of your mind whispered that this might be bigger than both of you, but pushed the thought away, pulling him closer. “We’ll figure this out,” you whispered. “Together.” Rafe didn’t respond, but his grip on you tightened slightly, his breathing slowing as he finally started to relax. He didn't deserve you—your loyalty, your care, your softness. But for now he let himself trust you.
You stared at the ceiling, your mind racing even as your body stayed still. You didn’t know what you were to each other, didn’t know what might happen after this night or what was up with Ward, and maybe you never would. But right now, Rafe was yours to protect, and that was the most important thing.
tags: @gibson-g1rl @beausling @rafesheaven @rafescokewhore @rafespreciosa @rafeysbunny @rafey-baby @rafesangelita @drewspinkbunny @whinyangel @nativegirltapes @cherrygirlfriend @moremaybank @littlelamy @rafesweetie @deansbeer
#works ₊˚⊹♡#writers on tumblr#bsf!rafe x reader#bsf!rafe#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x fem!reader#rafe cameron angst#rafe cameron fluff
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𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 ╰┈➤ cooper koch.
playing: every breath you take by the police
synopsis: you work as a costume designer and have grown close to actor cooper koch. what started as a friendly connection quickly turns unsettling when you realize he's been following you outside of work.
paring: cooper koch x fem reader!
warnings: stalking, unprotected sex, fingering, +18, dubious consent, manipulation
word count: 4.117
▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| 0:10
You've been working as a costume designer for the second season of Netflix’s Monsters for a while now. You were already close with the cast and crew, but no one stood out more than Cooper Koch, who played "Erik Menendez." You were in charge of his costumes, and he was always polite, friendly, and eager to help behind the scenes. At first, it just felt like part of the routine—he was charming and easy to talk to, and you two ended up building a connection.
But over time, his presence became a little too constant. He started showing up everywhere you went, even outside of work. Sometimes, you'd catch him standing at a distance, just watching you, his eyes always locked on you. He was at the café you visited after work, on the street you walked down on your way home, and even in the studio parking lot. It was like he knew exactly where you'd be.
The feeling of being watched went from uncomfortable to suffocating. Every step you took, it felt like he was right there, lingering. You never said anything, maybe out of fear of what might happen if you confronted him. That friendly, charismatic Cooper now seemed like someone else entirely. There was something unsettling about how he appeared out of nowhere, his eyes never leaving you. You tried to avoid being alone with him, but escaping this quiet pursuit felt impossible.
It was late at night when the day’s filming finally wrapped up. After packing up your things, you decided to walk home — it wasn’t far, and you needed some air to clear your mind. The night was cold, but nothing unbearable. The streets were quiet, with only a few people here and there, but the familiar feeling of being watched wouldn’t leave you alone. You just wanted to get home as quickly as possible.
As you turned the corner, your pace slowed. Your heart started to pound, and suddenly the cold felt more biting, making your whole body tremble.
He was there again — Cooper. Standing at the corner by your house, as if he were waiting for you.
His back was turned, and he hadn’t noticed you yet. Should you slip inside unnoticed, or confront him? The question gnawed at you, because any other woman in a stalker situation would feel pure fear and dread. But not you.
Well, part of you wanted to feel scared. You should feel scared. It made sense. But you didn’t. Somehow, in a twisted way, knowing he was always around gave you a strange sense of security. Like he was there just for you, as if you were his only focus. But why, instead of fear, were you feeling attraction? The situation was far from normal, and something was deeply wrong.
Taking a deep breath, you decided to walk towards him. He seemed to sense your presence, turning to face you, and when your eyes locked, the air between you grew thick. There was no going back now; you had to face whatever this was head-on. With each step closer, the tension between you intensified, and when you finally stopped in front of him, the silence was suffocating, as if the world around you had frozen.
"Cooper, you're freaking me the fuck out," you said bluntly, struggling to find words that didn’t seem to exist. You both knew it was a lie, that your attraction to him was only growing. Cooper stood there calmly, just watching you with that unreadable, hardened look in his eyes. You hated when he did that — analyzing you like he was in control. He cleared his throat before speaking.
"No," he said, and you blinked, confused. "I’m not scaring you," he added firmly, no hesitation, as if your attempt to push him away didn’t bother him at all.
Closing the distance with a few steps, he leaned down, his mouth hovering near your ear, making your skin prickle with tension. "Don’t lie to yourself. You know I don’t scare you," he murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your ear. "If I did, you would’ve run. Called someone... but you didn’t. You’re here, trying to handle this alone." He chuckled darkly, pulling back slightly as his words hung in the cold night air.
Now, you don’t know what to say. Your breathing is heavy, and your heart feels like it’s about to burst out of your chest. What could you possibly say in a moment like this? He’s completely cornered you, and now you’re part of his twisted little game. You try to take a step back, but your body doesn’t respond. It’s like your feet are glued to the ground, and the truth behind his words catches up to you. He was right—you didn’t want to run. Even though logic told you that you should, you’ve never been one for logic.
“Why are you doing this?” After a long pause, you finally manage to ask, your voice hesitant as you release the question that’s been stuck for so long. “You keep showing up wherever I am. That’s not normal, Cooper. I don’t know what you want, but...” You swallow hard, pretending to be scared even though the fear doesn’t come, hoping it will work. “It’s making me nervous.”
He laughs—loud and unapologetic—and it makes you feel genuinely uncomfortable now. Who the hell does he think he is? "I know you noticed. I wanted you to notice." He steps closer, and your heart races—not from fear, but from desire. You liked hearing those words from him. "I’m not following you for no reason. I need to be near you. I need you. No matter where you go, I’ll be there. Not because I want to scare you, but because I can’t stay away from you."
The way he speaks is hypnotizing, and the mix of obsession and desire in his words captivates you. You know you should run away from him; you know that. But there's a part of you gaining strength—a powerful urge to give in to his desires, to let him have you right here, right now.
"Oh God, this doesn’t make any sense," you mutter, denying it to yourself. "Why am I not scared of you?" You find yourself stepping closer without even realizing it, the gravity of the situation pulling you nearer to him. "Why does this feel... right?"
Cooper feels your fingers brush against his cheek, and he smiles.
"You know I’m not a monster. You know I’d never hurt you; I just want to protect you. Watching over you, making sure you’re okay... because you’re mine." His words are possessive, and they should terrify you, but instead, a wave of heat washes over your body. Fear melts away, replaced by an attraction that’s impossible to deny, and Cooper notices it.
He steps closer, the air between you thickening, charged with unspoken tension. The world around you fades, and in that moment, all that matters is the connection between you two. You feel alive, exhilarated by the danger and the desire, and you realize that maybe, just maybe, you’ve been drawn to him all along.
"Why don't you invite me in, and we can settle this like two adults who desire each other?" he says, pulling back slightly but still keeping his hands on your face. His voice is provocative, and he knows he can ask for anything, and you'd obey like a lost puppy. He has power over you, and he relishes it.
You don’t say anything, instead gripping his hand and guiding him into your apartment. You both hurry up the stairs, barely acknowledging the guard on duty. In that moment, nothing else matters; it’s just you two. This night is yours, and you can do whatever you want without interruption.
The sound behind you is muffled as the door slams shut, thanks to the tall man who made it. The silence is thick, and neither of you is sure what to do next. Cooper has been waiting for this moment for so long; he can hardly believe you’re finally his. For him, nothing else matters.
Every breath is an invitation, every glance a promise. You gasp as he steps closer, his eyes studying you with an intensity that feels like they’re devouring you. Your body is already on fire. Finally, Cooper touches you, as if he’s been given permission to unleash everything he’s been holding back. You can feel the heat radiating from him, his fingers lightly grazing your arm, but the intention behind that touch is undeniable: he needs you.
The air is thick with desire. Neither of you speaks because there’s no need. Words are irrelevant at this moment. The longing is palpable, igniting when you throw yourself against him. Your lips crash together fiercely, without hesitation, as if you both need this like a sick person needs medicine. Cooper is elated; he never imagined it would be you to take the lead, but he doesn’t hesitate.
The kiss is urgent, as if time is running out and every second is too precious to waste.
He presses you against the living room wall, the force of his body pinning you in place, leaving you unable to move. But there’s no fear, only a growing desire that intensifies with every movement of his lips against yours. Cooper’s hands explore your body with an intensity that makes you shiver. There’s no delicacy here; everything is necessary. You feel his nails digging into your skin, as if he wants to mark you, making it clear that you belong to him—at least for this night. This overwhelming blend of pain and pleasure only fuels your craving for more.
You reciprocate with equal intensity, your hands roaming over his body, pulling him closer, as if mere proximity will never be enough. Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging gently as he trails kisses down your neck, each touch igniting a fire within you.
“Where’s your bedroom?” he asks breathlessly, pulling back from the kiss. “I don’t want to fuck you in the living room, not for the first time.”
You shiver and point to the door of your bedroom.
He flashes a teasing smile, scooping you up in his arms and carrying you to the bedroom as your breath quickens. As soon as Cooper opens the door, he sets you down on the bed with a firm motion, standing tall as he admires your body. His gaze lingers on every curve and detail, a satisfied smile spreading across his lips. You can’t help but notice the bulge in his shorts, a thrill coursing through you, mixing anticipation and desire.
“Just look at you,” he murmurs, a hungry glint in his eyes. “I can't wait to have you.”
He moves closer to you, hovering above, the heat of his body pressing down on yours, and you find yourself completely surrendered. “You have no idea the things I’ve done imagining this moment,” he touches your skin. “Knowing you’re here completely for me is more than enough to drive me crazy with desire to enter you,” he whispers as he brings his lips to your ear and bites your earlobe.
Every movement he makes is calculated, precise, as if he knows exactly where to touch, where to provoke, to leave you on the edge of losing control. A simple nibble on your ear has you ready for what’s to come. He glides his mouth down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, sending a shiver through you that makes you involuntarily arch your back. His breath is heavy against your skin, each exhale a reminder of who’s in control here, and it’s not you.
“You like being followed, don’t you?” he says, looking you in the eyes, his hands squeezing your thighs as you become completely inert under his gestures. “You like knowing it’s me watching you… that it’s me who wants you completely.” Cooper lifts your shirt, quickly removing it and leaving you bare from the waist up. He bites his lip at the sight of you, seeming to guess that you already knew he would come today.
His voice makes you tremble, but it’s the touch—his firm fingers exploring every part of your body, every curve—that takes your breath away. His hands are everywhere, demanding, marking territory, as if he wants to engrave on your skin that you belong to him. Now, your breasts are his property too, and Koch makes sure you know it as he starts to suck on them with brutality.
This is going to leave so many marks tomorrow. It’s the only thing you can manage to think about.
“Cooper…” you say, breathless and with a voice barely above a whisper.
He chuckles softly, a low, husky laugh, before pressing his lips hard against yours, the kiss filled with possession, with repressed desire. When his lips pull away, he cradles your face with one hand, forcing you to look directly into his eyes, which burn with intensity. “You can tell me to stop… but I know you won’t” he says provocatively, looking at you so deeply that you forget to breathe.
You know you don’t want to stop either.
He leans in, his teeth now nibbling at your shoulder, while his hands explore every part of you, quick and decisive. His fingers find your bare skin, gripping possessively, and the pressure of his bite intensifies the pleasure. His dominance is absolute, and you feel lost with every touch.
When he finally moves down, trailing slowly along your belly with a teasing slowness, his gaze never leaves yours, each second thick with tension. He watches you, savoring every reaction, as if he has total control over your body and mind. His hands pin your wrists against the mattress, his eyes sparkling with pure need.
“Now, you’re mine; don’t try to deny it or do anything you’ll regret,” Cooper says softly, but you know it’s not a lie.
“I won’t, Cooper,” your voice dripping with desire. “Do whatever you want with me,” it sounds more like a plea than a request, and he doesn’t hesitate to agree.
As if confirming your words, he carefully removes your pants while keeping you pinned beneath him, his eyes burning with uncontrollable desire. You’re now just in your panties, and he’s trembling more and more with growing lust for you. Without taking his eyes off you, he pulls down his own pants, tossing them somewhere in your room. He places light kisses along your intimate area, and you almost beg him to claim you already.
As if reading your thoughts, Cooper finally positions his tongue at the entrance to your pussy, his tongue is hot, making you arch your back a little. He explores every inch, as if he is reaffirming the possession he has just declared. The touch of his tongue is both teasing and possessive, and each movement makes you lose control a little more.
Now, he also plays with his fingers inside you, starting with one and increasing to 3 as he hears your moans get louder and louder, you couldn't control yourself seeing that man possessing you like that. To the same extent that he is ecstatic to taste you, and to know that you were fragile like that just for him.
"Cooper… I think I'm going to…" his voice becomes low, almost inaudible and he immediately stops what he was doing.
"No, darling. You only cum when I think the time is right" he has a more dominant tone, apparently he's decided that he's in charge of you tonight and you're not capable of disagreeing.
Cooper gets off of you, standing up and removing all the clothes from his body. You can't help but notice the size of his dick when he takes off his underwear. He knows you're looking, so he starts touching his own member, in an attempt to make you even more crazy with pleasure - which works. He covers the entire length of his dick with his hands, making back and forth movements as he looks at you nibbling on your mouth and completely naked to him.
As if in fright, Cooper comes to you on the bed and turns you on your side, maintaining full control of the situation, a firm hand on your hip as he whispers hoarsely into your ear:
"I know you like this. My control." he whispers. "Don't think you're in charge of anything, I'm the only one who touches you today."
He guides you, positioning your body as he wants, you get on all fours for him, you could feel his cock brushing close to your entrance. His heavy breathing on your neck, his lips drawing a trail of heat across your skin. You feel the weight of his body pressing against yours, and there's no denying the growing tension, which only increases with each touch.
Without hesitation, he bites your neck, hard enough to make you let out an involuntary moan. His hands tighten around your waist, and he pulls you closer, placing himself inside you without any prior warning. You were already completely wet, it didn't take much effort for him to fit inside you without difficulty. Their bodies fit together perfectly, as if they already knew the path by heart.
"You like being mine, don't you? Being taken like this, without any choice." he says as he thrusts his member into you and you moan in agreement. His body moves against yours, in a slow rhythm, but full of tension, as if he was enjoying every second, teasing, stretching the pleasure to the limit. His touch is at the same time soft and hard, his fingers firm as they explore more, intensifying the contact, drawing breathy sighs from you.
Each movement is a new peak of intensity, and the control he exerts over you drives you insane. Cooper continues to guide you, holding your body as if molding it to his, his fingers pressing your skin harder, sometimes leaving bites and slaps on your body that would remain as marks for a long time. "You'll remember me when you see these marks, that's why I make them" he whispers in your ear, letting out a low chuckle.
His words are like a trigger, and the heat that builds between you is uncontrollable. The pace increases, the control intensifies, and you find yourself completely surrendered to desire. Your bodies move together, and there is no more hesitation.
“Ride me” his voice is breathy when he orders you. It's like a hypnosis process, you don't say anything and just obey. He removes his erect dick from inside you, catching you very easily and placing himself underneath you.
You adjust yourself on top of him. Maybe now, you would be the one in charge of the situation and that makes you wetter and thirstier with desire. You start with slow movements, but Cooper's hands are faster and hold your hips, making him in control again. The moans they both let out are uncontrollable, it's not clear which moan is louder. Both of you are in a dispute over who feels more pleasure in this situation, you scratch Cooper's chest while he grabs your hips very tightly.
"Fuck" he lets out amidst moans. “Feeling you feels so good…” he said as you rode faster and faster. He wouldn't last much longer there and you knew that even you weren't capable, it had been long enough since you had both had sex with someone else. Cooper was waiting for you. Another person wouldn't supply what he wanted to do with you, what he was already doing with you.
Amidst all the waves of heat that were being emanated from both of you, Cooper came inside you. It wasn't his plan. He was frustrated for a moment, but he couldn't resist the face you made when you realized he had filled you. "Did you like that?" he teased.
You nodded as you bit your lip. "But you didn't make me come…" you gave a naughty smile, you knew that would make him furious and that was what you wanted. Cooper narrowed his eyes, the teasing smile you gave him igniting something even more intense in him. The frustration he felt at losing control quickly turned into a domineering energy, as if your every word encouraged him to further prove the dominance he had over you.
Without saying anything else, he pulled you back towards him with controlled force, his fingers squeezing your waist as he turned you onto your stomach. His face got closer to your ear, his breathing hot and heavy and he pressed his body against yours, his hands quickly went down your back, exploring every inch with more intensity. His touch was no longer gentle, and you knew he wouldn't stop until he heard what he wanted from you.
Firmly, he leaned into you, each movement calculated to prolong your anticipation. His fingers played with your pussy, making you moan louder and louder and demonstrating how completely you were in that man's hands.
He didn't need any more words. His touch, firm and determined, moved with precision, each second taking you deeper into pleasure. He alternated his fingers and you felt more and more fragile, closer and closer to reaching your limit. The way he moved you, it was as if he was in complete command of your body, bringing you even closer to the edge.
Your breathing hitches as your body responds to each touch. He intensified the pace, each movement becoming faster and deeper. His body began to arch, the sounds that escaped his lips mixed with his heavy breathing. Cooper, realizing you were on the brink, held your hips even tighter, the controller in his hands. The climax came like an explosion, your body shook, and you lost yourself in the moment, you were already completely surrendered to him. He smiled victoriously and removed his fingers, leaving you lying on the bed with your breath hitching.
While the heat of the moment was still dissipating, Cooper began to stand up, quickly adjusting his clothes, as if returning to that calm face. You watched him in silence, your body still throbbing from what had just happened, not knowing exactly how to react or what to say. If anything needed to be said.
"Take me to the door, beautiful. I have to go," he told you with a charming smile and a light voice, almost unrecognizable from the Cooper of moments ago, and you just nodded.
He grabbed the jacket tossed in the corner of the room and followed you to the front door. He was already stepping out when the words slipped from your lips, an attempt to make sense of what it all meant.
"I guess now you stop following me," you said hesitantly.
Cooper paused at the door, his hand on the doorknob, but he didn’t turn to face you right away. He let out a low, almost mocking laugh, and then finally turned slightly, his gaze fixed on you over his shoulder.
"It’s not that easy to get rid of me."
He stepped closer, his eyes darkening with a hint of something that made you shiver. Then, he recited, in a low and deep voice, the lyrics of the song that had echoed in his mind from the start:
"Every breath you take, every move you make... I'll be watching you."
Before you could respond, he slowly opened the door. The sound of his footsteps descending the stairs echoed through the hallway, each step taking him further away, yet leaving a lingering sense that this was far from over.
You stood there, frozen at the door, breathless as you processed his words, the melody of the song almost reverberating in your head. Even with him out of sight, the impact of Cooper’s presence still hung in the air, as if he had never truly left.
▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| 0:10
hey, angels! i hope you all enjoyed it. i don’t have much practice writing this kind of stuff, but i noticed not a lot of people were doing fanfics about Cooper, so I decided to give it a shot. About the English: it’s not my first language, so I used a translator for a lot of things!
#cooper koch#monstersnetflix#erik menendez#fanfic#fanfiction#cooper koch smut#smut#cooper koch fanfiction#cooper koch fanfic#cooper koch x reader#monsters netflix#cooper koch imagine#cooper koch x y/n
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a wedding in june
cult leader!joel miller x virgin fem!reader
[18+] | wc: ~3.2k summary: You run from Joel on your wedding day. masterlist | AO3
warnings: HBO Joel, TLOU AU, dubious consent (i'm so serious don't read if it makes you uncomfortable), some proofreading, post-outbreak, commune/cult vibes, arranged marriage, mentions of infected/gore/violence, no use of y/n or too many details on reader's appearance, some face slapping, loss of virginity (and some pain associated to that but only a few sentences), outdoors sex, oral (f! receiving), squirting, unprotected sex, creampie
a/n: i promise i have other ideas rattling in my brain besides dubious consent 😭 i have a whole wip chart with tons of ideas that i hope i can write
You run faster at the sound of shouts behind you. Sweat drips down your temples and fear makes your heart beat erratically, but you don’t dare stop.
The outer gates are only a few more hundred feet away. All you need to do is get past the trees and you’ll be able to escape. You don’t have time to think about how this will be your first time venturing outside of the commune.
Everything you were taught about the outside, about the orphaned souls and monsters that lurk, none of that matters. Not when you’re more terrified at what your future will bring.
Joel Miller. The man who in just a few months, cleared away the hundreds of infected in the nearby valley. Joel, who in the commune’s monthly hunting trips, manages to find everything from venison to medication.
The times you’ve been close enough to Joel, to feel the heat emanating off his body, you can almost taste the violence that simmers beneath his skin. Instead of it scaring you, like it would any sane person, it excites you.
The longing in his gaze whenever he looks at you makes you dizzy. There’s a pulse of heat between your thighs each and every time, one that will only go away after you ride your pillow until exhaustion. Whenever you face him again, after you’ve dreamed of him taking you, you wonder if he knows what you do in the privacy of your room.
There’s no denying that he’s saved this commune from the brink of starvation. Of course everyone, including you, is grateful for the kindness of a stranger. But in the months he’s been here, their gratitude has turned into pure devotion.
Your parents practically pushed you into his arms the moment Joel asked about you. Normally quite level headed, your parents have begun to treat Joel like a God. You thought Joel would find their insistence of marriage off putting, that he would be an honorable man and let you choose your own path in this place.
You were wrong.
Your parents saw it as an honor that out of all the women in the commune, Joel chose you. The books and pretty dresses he finds on his trips are only a sign of how devoted a husband he will be, at least that’s what your mother tried to tell you.
And the times you tried to speak to Joel and get him to rethink this marriage? Don’t worry about it, pretty girl, was all he would say before he’d send you off.
You can imagine him in your bed and fantasize about him in your dreams, but to be his wife? Especially now that he’s been chosen to lead the commune—you want nothing to do with that.
A denser path to your right has you changing directions, wishing to throw them off your trail. You can still make it if you run through here.
Except it’s too late. Strong arms grab and push you into the lush grass.
“No,” you scream, “let me go!”
“What’s wrong with you,” Joel snaps, “don’t you know what’s out there?”
“I don’t care,” you scream out childishly, “I’d rather be out there than be with you!”
He climbs on top of you, grabbing your wrists in one hand and pressing them above your head into the grass. He leans on your thighs to keep you still and grabs your chin with the other hand.
“Listen to me,” he insists, “you don’t know what you’re sayin’. You know nothin’ of what life is like outside these walls.”
He digs his fingers into your cheeks and shakes your head slightly since you refuse to look at him.
“Joel, did you find her?” your father calls out from a distance.
“Yeah, I got ‘er.”
“Great, let’s go back and finish the celebration–”
“No,” Joel calls out.
“Joel–”
“Leave,” Joel interrupts.
He continues sitting on you, putting most of his weight on your trembling body. The white dress you're wearing, a satin piece that he found on their last hunting trip into the town, rides up dangerously close to your panties.
“I need to teach you a lesson in respect, wife,” Joel growls.
He stands and just when you think you can escape again, he yanks you up with him. Joel holds your arm tight with one hand while taking off his belt with the other. He spins you around and brings your wrists behind your back, using the belt to bind them together.
“You wanna see what’s out there? Since you think you’re so tough?” Joel asks, not waiting for an answer and instead dragging you to the gate. “I do everything to make this place safe for you, darlin’. But this is how you repay me? Runnin’ off at the first chance you get?”
You’re surprised at his words and the sincerity of his voice. He sounds almost… sad.
“Practically beggin’ to be out there with those fuckers instead of me?” he continues, “The only man who can truly protect you?”
You reach the gate and your heartbeat picks up again. You’ve never been out this far. In fact, you’re acres away from the actual commune. While the gates are secure and regularly enforced, you can’t help but feel truly terrified that something will grab you just outside these barriers.
“I’m sorry, Joel–”
He stops, spinning you around and landing a hard slap, slap, slap on your ass.
“You address me as sir.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” you cry out, “I learned my lesson. Let’s–let’s go back.”
Joel ignores you, choosing instead to march you right to the gate. He keeps one hand on your arm and uses the other to maneuver the many locks and wires on the barrier door until it finally opens.
“No, please! I said I was sorry! I wasn’t thinking!”
He drags you out and for the first time in your life, you’ve left the commune. Despite only a metal gate separating both sides, this area seems devoid of life.
He walks and walks until you wonder if you’ll pass out from the panic. You fall to your knees and Joel crouches right in front of you.
“Your daddy ever tell you about the infected?” Joel whispers, tilting your chin up with his index finger. “How they’ll bite and rip into any part of your flesh.”
“No, please,” you whimper.
He drags a finger down your neck and over your exposed collarbones, leaving goosebumps in his wake. Your nipples tighten as he glides his finger over one breast and then the other.
“Once they’re done with you, if there’s anything left, then you become just as mindless and violent as them. Forever lost–”
“Sir–”
His hand tightens around your neck, cutting off your words.
“It’s not just one, babydoll. They like to travel in hordes. Makes it easier to find their victims.”
Your air supply thins and blood rushes to your ears. You squeeze your thighs unconsciously as the pulsing between them only grows. Joel ghosts his lips over yours and your eyes flutter closed without thinking.
“But it’s not just them,” he whispers over your lips, “there’s non-infected out there. People who won’t think twice about hurtin’ a pretty girl like you. Killin’ ya’ just for fun.”
You’re not sure who kisses who first. It’s not the chaste kiss the two of you shared at the altar. It’s rough and has you pressing your body close to his so you can take every swipe of his tongue or bite from his teeth. He continues holding your neck, lightly squeezing so you have no other choice than to gasp for air.
You fall back at the push of his hand on your chest. He flips you on your side to untie his belt from your wrists. You attack the moment your hands are free, sliding your hands through his salt and pepper hair and tugging him down.
Joel hisses but returns each of your kisses and bites with his own. You hear the squawk of a crow from above and you're immediately reminded of where you are.
“Wait, sir,” you gasp, “not here. Take me back to your–our house–”
He drags his teeth down your neck, rubbing his beard into your soft skin and biting down.
“Thought you’d rather be out here than with me?” he says, repeating your words from earlier.
“No,” you whimper, trying to push him off, “not here. I–”
He reaches your chest and sucks your nipple into his mouth right over your dress. Your words are cut off and you're arching your back, trying to push more into his mouth.
Joel makes room between your thighs and grinds down as you twist his wavy strands of hair between your fingers. His hard bulge rubs over your pussy and your whimper at the roughness.
He pinches your other nipple between two fingers then leans back to tug down the straps of your dress. Warm, summer wind glides over your now naked breasts and you shiver.
“Look at these pretty tits,” he groans, “all mine.”
Joel yanks the skirt of the dress over your tummy and runs a finger up and down your panty-covered pussy. You shamelessly grind down on his hand and cry out the moment he lands a harsh slap.
“Please,” you beg with what's left of your sanity, “take me home.”
With the same technique as before, Joel holds both wrists in one hand and uses the other to rip your panties off. You try to close your thighs from the sting of the elastic, but he’s quick to stop you.
“Christ,” he whispers, “now ain’t that a beauty.”
With two fingers, Joel swipes through your slick folds and brings them up to his mouth.
“Mmm, sweet girl. Needa taste of this pussy.”
“What do you mean—“
You try to remind Joel of just where the two of you are, but he fits his broad shoulders between your thighs and fuses his mouth to your pussy.
You’re surprised, stunned silent by the heat of his mouth on your most intimate parts. You’re by no means ignorant of what a husband does to his wife—you’ve read enough of the romance books your mother keeps hidden in her bedside table and heard enough stories from your friends to have an idea of what happens on a wedding night.
But never did you imagine it would feel like this. His beard and mustache only heighten the sensitivity between your thighs. The setting sun and the dense forest that surrounds the two of you should add to your terror, but Joel manages to put your attention elsewhere.
His tongue lashes repeatedly over your clit and down to tease your entrance. You throw your head back onto the grass and stare through blurred vision at the purple sky, uncaring of where you are and of what creeps in the dark.
He’s greedy, eating away at you like you're the last meal he’ll ever have. You’re slick and sticky, painting his face with your juices, making it easy for him to push a thick finger into your entrance.
The stretch burns, but he calms you with a swipe of his tongue on your clit and the vibrations of his moans on your skin.
“Your parents were right, you are a virgin,” he groans, pushing on the little piece of thin flesh that separates the rest of you. “Gonna be a tight fit, baby.”
You have no time to think about when your parents had that conversation with him. Instead, you're dumbfounded at the size of his fingers. You whine, unsure of what exactly you're asking, but nonetheless chanting more, more, more into the air.
Joel manages to slide a second finger, curving them and pressing on something bumpy that makes you twitch and see black dots in your vision.
He stretches and scissors his fingers in your tightness, opening you up more and sucking your swollen button between his lips. Just when the heat is about to consume every inch of your body, he stops.
“No,” you whine, trying to yank his head back to your thighs.
Joel dodges your hands and laughs at the desperation written all over your face. He leans down, pressing his wet face to yours in a sloppy kiss, forcing you to suck on his tongue. Riding your pillow doesn’t compare to this.
Just as before, Joel rips away and catches your wrist right when you reach for him.
“If you woulda been a good girl, I woulda eaten this virgin pussy till mornin’,” he says while unbuttoning his jeans. “Made you ride my face and cum as many times as you wanted.”
You barely understand how someone could ride a face, and yet you clench and gush around nothing, wanting his mouth or fingers back. You see the dark, curly hair at his base before he pulls out his length.
“But for bein’ a brat, I’m gonna make you come on my cock instead.”
The tip is swollen and leaking a white-ish liquid that makes your mouth water at the sight. He lets go of your wrist and gently slaps your face.
“Are you listenin’ to me, girl? I won’t fuck you if you ain’t payin’ attention.”
“Y-yes, sir. I’m listening.”
Joel laughs once again, noticing the dazed look in your eyes.
“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll make it fit.”
There’s a craving inside of you, one that has you suddenly feeling so empty, that if he doesn’t fill you with his cock you think you’ll die. You repeat the word over and over in your head.
You’ve read it more than enough times and heard it through hushed giggles from your friends, yet the way Joel says the word, the way he squeezes and twists his hand over his cock, you finally understand what the word truly means.
Your fingers and the handle of your hairbrush were never able to give you what you so desperately seeked. You always stopped before you went in too deep, never able to take that final push inside.
He spreads open your thighs and you lean up on your elbows to try to catch a glance at what he’s doing. You see your sticky fluids stuck on your inner thighs and over the tip of his cock. He pushes in just an inch, and you gasp at the thickness.
“Fuck, tight little thing,” Joel moans. “Need you to beg f’me, baby.”
“Please, please, sir,” you answer quickly, “please, I–I want it!”
He sinks in another inch, his face pinching in barely controlled restraint.
“Say–fuck, say ‘I need your cock, sir’.”
The words are caught in your throat as you try to adjust to his size. Joel doesn’t like that you take too long to answer and slaps your cheek.
“Answer me.”
“I need your–your cock, sir,” you whine.
“Again, fu–again,” he demands.
You try your best to repeat his words, except he’s too far gone now. There’s a pinch, a rip of thin flesh and suddenly he’s sliding all the way in. You claw at his arms and at the grass to get away but he’s gripping your thighs, pressing deeper and whispering take it, pretty girl and you ain’t getting away from me.
You feel full, so incredibly full. You’re split open, ripped apart just for him.
“I know, baby. I know,” Joel coos, “it’ll hurt only for a minute.”
His thumb rubs tiny circles on your clit and he leans over to press kisses on your eyelids and cheeks, licking away the tears that fall.
The stretch burns, but his groans of pleasure and his gentle kisses have a warm glow spreading through your body. Joel notices the change in you and glances down to watch your hips move in small circles.
“There we go, baby,” he moans, “knew you’d like it.”
He pulls out slowly, keeping eye contact with you and watching each pinch of your brow and flutter of your eyelids.
“Saved this pretty cunt just f’me, yeah?”
“Yes, sir,” you whisper, pushing away the sweaty curls from Joel’s forehead.
He picks up the pace, curling his hand behind your knee and pushing it into your chest, arranging you like a doll. The pain now completely gone, you lay there, running hands over his arms and watching the sweat drip down his temples.
Every slide of his cock kisses the very end of you. Your hips move and twist on their own accord and you have no choice but to cry out into the night sky.
“Takin’ this–this big cock like a good girl, yeah?” Joel groans, watching his cock plunge in and out of your little hole. “Need you–fuck, need you to say you’re mine, baby.”
“I–I’m yours, sir,” you whine, feeling a twinge in your core, “yours, yours, yours.”
You dig your fingers in his neck and drag him down for a kiss. He grunts as you bite deep enough to draw blood.
The thoughts from earlier, about running away from him, leave your mind. Even if it hurts a little, even if you aren’t prepared to be a wife, this is exactly what you need. And you won’t let anyone else have him.
“You gonna cum, girl? Gonna cum on your husband’s big cock?”
This time he doesn’t stop you. His hand squeezes your neck and he traps you into the ground, pistoning his hips into your slick cunt. Your oxygen lessens and your cumming, numbness and white heat spreading throughout your body.
“Just like that, baby,” Joel growls, “soak my cock.”
You're gushing on him, painting the hair at his base with sticky juices. You tremble in his arms and claw at the hand that squeezes your neck. Joel doesn’t let up, fucking into your limp body, loving the way you mewl underneath him.
He moves in short thrusts, stiffening and letting out an animalistic grunt into the night sky. He presses his head into your neck, sucking and biting into your soft skin while he spills his seed inside of you.
"Take my cum, baby. Take it, take it," Joel moans.
You clench around him, massage his cock with your inner muscles. Every drop of his cum belongs deep inside of you.
With the little strength left in your body, you run your fingers through his hair. Joel's hands move to grip your thighs and he grinds down, spilling the last of his cum into your cunt.
"You belong to me," Joel whispers. "Don’t ever run again."
You lay there in the grass, breasts bare and pussy full of your husband's cock.
"I won’t," you promise.
Joel leans back and slowly slips out. There’s a twinge of red mixed with his cum that he wipes up with your ripped panties. He lays down next to you and brings you in close so that your head is placed on his chest. You listen to his heartbeat and the sounds of crickets around you.
You think about the long way back to Joel's–well now your house too–and then you remember exactly where the two of you are.
"Sir, we're outside of the gates what if something or someone comes–we don't have any weapons–"
“There’s another gate a few miles out," he interrupts, "I installed it for extra protection around this place.”
You drop your head on his chest from relief and exhaustion. Joel rubs a hand down your back and squeezes your arm.
“I’d never put you in harm's way, pretty girl.”
-
general taglist: iloved1lfs0
ps: i know that there has been other cult leader!joel fics but in no way shape or form have i copied those works for this. if there is something major in my work that sounds similar to someone else's, it's purely by coincidence. i respect each person who takes time out of their day to write FREE content and the last thing i'd do is steal their storylines 🤍🤍🤍
#joel miller x you#joel miller x female reader#joel miller smut#joel miller tlou#joel miller x reader#hbo joel miller x reader#dark joel miller#dark fic
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Still You Want Me
Main Masterlist
Read on A03!
Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, tooth-rotting fluff, pregnancy, a little angst if you squint, pre-established relationship.
Summary/Warnings: Dean's fought the worst evil in the world, but only one thing has really managed to scare him. His pregnant wife.
Author's Note: Request from an anon!! I got emotional with it, and I'm very sorry about that but I couldn't help myself. Enjoy!
Word Count: 2.9k
“We got three hours left.” Dean returned to the parked Impala, sorting through the bags in his hands. “But we can make it back in two if I-“
Sam shook his head, taking his bag of bird feed—trail mix, but the pointless kind without any M&Ms—from Dean with a frown. “Two’s a bit stretch, don’t you think? I mean even for you, Dean, and it’s not like we’re in a rush-“
“You’re not in a rush, Sammy.” Dean muttered, dumping the rest of the snacks in the backseat. “I got a pregnant wife who’s left me three voicemails about how she’s either gonna castrate me or give me head, and-“
“Gross, dude.” Sam walked around the car, making a scrunched bitch-face of disgusting. “All you needed to say was that’s she’s got mood swings-“
“Don’t call them mood swings.” Dean dropped behind Baby’s wheel, saying Her name with a sigh. “She hates that. And you can’t charm your way out of like I can.”
“I think I could.” Sam shrugged. “She likes me more.”
“She’s my freakin’ wife-“
“She loves you.” Sam grabbed his phone as they pulled out of the lot. “She likes me. I’ve never been threatened with castration-“
“Yet.” Dean muttered. “Cas thought he was safe until he got a shade of yellow that was too red for the nursery. I mean, yellow is yellow, Sammy, but she threatened to cut off his wings-“
Sam frowned. “I don’t think she could do that-“
“Trust me, man.” Dean sighed, running a hand over his face. “She’d find a way.”
Sam just nodded, because they both knew Dean was right. He was pretty goddamn sure that, if She wanted—or if Dean pissed Her off enough—She’d figure out how to send him somewhere worse than the Empty, bring him back, then start sobbing and apologizing on Her knees all within a ten-minute span. Then She’d probably give him a blowjob, he’d saying the exact wrong dirty talk, and she’d bite off Little Dean. Shit, he’d only been gone four days for the hunt, but half that time had been spent on the phone, reassuring Her he was being safe, the hunt wasn’t a part of any world-ending scheme from a new big bad, and he’d be home soon. The time that Dean wasn’t on the phone, Sam was, promising he wouldn’t let anything happen, that Dean was sleeping well and looking at the baby names list She’d sent, and that he’d called Eileen so she wouldn’t worry either.
Annoyingly, Sam had been keeping his promises to Her. Dean read the baby names list because Sam wouldn’t let him leave the table until he did, Eileen had gotten two calls, and Dean was being safer than he’d ever been in his freaking life. At this point, he was pretty sure the pregnancy was just one long scam to make him take care of himself. He was drinking and hunting less after Her breakdown that she’d lose him, driving a little slower—just a little, he wasn’t a blind old lady—after the ice incident got him the silent treatment for three days, and he’d even tried some of Sam’s rabbit food. He’d spat it out, but he’d tried it. For Her, for the baby, and because he was terrified for his life.
Dean loved Her more than every pie in the freaking universe, but She was freaking terrifying right now. She might be the only thing he’d ever really been afraid of. Planes he could avoid. Ghosts and monster he could kill. Hell, even Lucifer had been better. At least the son of a bitch hadn’t begged to give Dean a hand job, then started sobbing because Dean tried to move it to sex and they didn’t feel pretty enough for sex. And if Lucifer had done that, Dean wouldn’t have cared. He didn’t give a shit about Lucifer.
But he gave a shit about Her. Every time She cried it felt like someone was stabbing him, but he had less and less of a damn clue for how to help her the more pregnant She got. She’d said she felt ugly, he’d told Her she was beautiful, and that her tits looked better than ever, and She’d started accusing him of not loving her tits before. He’d missed one phone call and She’d sent Cas to teleport him home. He’d gotten the wrong candy bar and She’d had a breakdown about him not loving her enough to get the right one.
That last one was why the gas station had taken so long. Dean had triple checked every single snack he’d bought, and added a few extras just in case she changed Her mind. He’d even had Cas text him a second list after She’d told him all her requests over the phone, out of fear that he’d missed even a single one. Even now, on the road, he was running through everything one last time, because he’d gotten five different Gatorade colors, but maybe She’d want a sixth, or two of the same color, or only one color and he’d get yelled at because She didn’t even like orange-
“Hey!” Sam pulled Dean out of his thoughts with a shout. “Phone!”
“Wha-“
Sam said Her name, holding Dean’s phone in front of his face. “She’s calling you-“
“I got that.” Dean snatched the phone, shooting Sam a glare. “And that’s not safe, Sammy. Gonna get us fuckin’ killed-“
“Yeah, sure, Dean.” Sam just shrugged—even though Dean was right, that was dangerous—and nodded to the phone. “I’d pick up if I were you-“
“Shut up.” Dean muttered, ignoring Sam’s laugh as he answered the call. “Hey, baby, we’re-“
“Dean!” Her voice was a half-shriek through the phone, and Dean winced. “Holy shit, you’re alive, that’s good-“
“Course I’m alive, I promised I would be-“
“But it’s not up to you!” She was pacing. Her voice had grown frantic and high, so She was pacing. “Monsters don’t ask before they kill you, and they’d defiantly want to kill you, and Sam told me he’d take that bullet but I don’t want him to die either, and you’re both amazing hunters but if you die now, you can’t come back, and I’d miss you, I miss you now, why aren’t you home, you dick, I fucking hate you-“
Dean swallowed, saying Her name slowly as Sam snickered at his side. Asshole. “Take a breath-“
“Don’t tell me how to breathe, Winchester, I’ve been breathing my whole fucking life-“
“I know, sweetheart, I have too-“
“You’ve never had to breathe while pregnant-“
“And I’m not planning to, ever, but- just listen-“
“We should get you pregnant, it’s only fair-“
Sam started to cackle, Her voice loud enough he could obviously hear every word. It wasn’t really helpful.
“That’s not gonna happen,” Dean muttered, giving Sam a death glare that just made him laugh more. “Sweetheart, we’ll be there soon. I promise.“
“Okay, but don’t go too fast, if you’re far, because you promised me you’d drive carefully, and you need to be safer. I don’t want to lose you.” She started to sniffle. Shit. “I can’t lose you, De, I need you, the baby needs you, and Sam and Cas are cool but they’re not you and I want you and the baby wants you. It wants you more, it hates when your gone, it just keeps kicking me and if you die I’ll be a terrible mother with a baby who hates me-“
Dean snapped Her name, pressing the Impala’s pedal to the floor. He needed to be home soon. “Listen to me. I’m not gonna do anything stupid like die, and you’re never gonna lose me. Plus, our baby won’t hate you. It’s half me. It can’t.”
There was a slightly static hum from the other side, and Dean sighed.
“I know you miss me, baby, and we can get you whatever you’re craving, but-“
“I do miss you, De.” Her voice was soft and pleading through the phone.
But it wasn’t Her crying voice. That was her-
“I miss your cock, too. I miss touching you, and why is your bed so stupid and big-“
Dean chuckled, shaking off the whiplash. “Because I’m stupid and big-“
He could hear Her pout through the phone. “Don’t say that. You’re not stupid, and our baby’s gonna be a genius-“
“Because they’ll get their brains from you, pretty girl.”
“Shut up.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Dean leaned slightly forward, checking a highway sign. “Hour and a half, okay? Then I’ll be home.”
“Fine.” She mumbled. “I love you. Be careful.”
“I love you too, baby. And I’m always safe.” Dean waited for Her sigh, letting her hang up first. He’d learned to do that the hard way. “Not a word, Sammy, or I’ll shoot you.”
Sam raised his hands, palms up. “I didn’t even open my- got it.”
Dean turned his scowl back to the road, and he could be safe and get home in an hour. Both could be possible, and She’d never have to know that he’d been going 15 over the speed limit. And if She started to catch on, Dean could distract Her with his hands and dick and mouth, because—as hot as she was when she was pissed—Sam said stress wasn’t good for the baby.
They made it forty-five minutes of mostly safe driving—Dean’s hands gripping the wheel and listening to the music at a deafening volume, Sam texting Eileen and pretending he wasn’t bothered by the deafening music—before another incident.
Cas appeared in the back seat, said Her name instead of hello, Dean—already a bad sign—and looked almost genuinely scared. Dean had never seen his face do that before—red and sheepish like a child being scolded by a dinosaur—and it was a little off-putting.
He was used to Cas doing this enough to not swerve off the road, but he was still pissed. “Fucking hell, Cas, a warning would be nice-“
Cas frowned, then leaned forward, turning down the music. “Did you not hear what I said.”
“No, the music was on, I know you said-“
Cas said Her name again with Dean. “It was her message. I would, ah, prefer not to repeat it.”
Sam blinked, turning in his seat. “Why, is she-“
“She is well.” Cas’ eyes stayed on Dean in the rearview mirror. “She is feeling some very… confusing emotions. Towards Dean.”
Sam frowned. “Confusing? How-“
“She told me to relay to Dean that she hates him, and she hates hunting, and if he’s not home in forty-five minutes she’ll leave him, but she can’t leave him because she loves him more than life and she cannot live without him. Specifically his smile, voice, hands, stupid flirting that did this in the first place, and,” Cas swallowed, his voice dropping slightly as his face grew red. “Big cock.”
Dean smirked slightly—she was a menace, but damn it if he didn’t love his girl—as Sam paled next to him.
“By this,” Cas mumbled. “I assume she was referring to the baby. Which is in good health. I checked this morning.”
“Good. Thanks, Cas, but,” Dean sighed. “This could’ve been a phone call-“
“I was instructed to deliver it in person. To make sure you were safe, and driving carefully.” Cas leaned forward with a frown. “The speed limit on this highway is meant to be-“
“I know what the speed limit is.” Dean grumbled, refusing to ease his foot off the gas. “I’m tryin’ to get home, Cas.”
“I believe she would prefer you get home slower, rather than sacrificing your safety.” Cas let out a long sigh. “Although, I will admit I’d prefer you return quickly. I am not equipped to handle a pregnant woman alone, despite reading all of the books on the subject I could find. And, uh,” Cas said Her name with a red face. “Is frightening in this state.”
Dean sighed. “Thirty minutes, dude, can you hold down the fort-“
“He could take you now?” Sam cut in with a small frown. “Cas could zap you back to the bunker, and I could drive Baby home.”
“Sammy-“
Cas nodded. “I agree with Sam’s plan. If you could pull over, Dean-“
“I’m not gonna pull over!” Dean snapped. “I can get back just fine myself!”
“But I could-“
“You won’t always be there, Cas.” Dean grunted through his teeth. “I gotta be able to take care of my family by myself. Shit, I’m doing all the safety bullcrap for it, and I’m hunting less.” He said Her name, his grip on the wheel painful. “She’s gotta know I can take care of her, and the baby. I said I’d drive home, so-“
Sam cut Dean off a sigh. “Dude, she’s gonna care way more that you’re home with her.”
“Sam is correct.” Cas said, and Dean could feel his gaze through the mirror. “I attempted to make her breakfast this morning, and she started crying. When asked, she told me that you make it better.” Cas frowned. “It was cereal.”
“C’mon, man. Let Cas take you home.”
Dean glanced over to find Sam giving him puppy eyes—the bitch—and groaned. “Fine. But if I see one scratch on Baby-“
“You’ll kill me, yeah, I know.” Sam unbuckled as Dean pulled over, not sounding nearly threatened enough. “Let’s move.”
It took a minute for Dean to get all the snacks, but the moment the last bag was in his arms Cas grabbed him by the shoulder, the world because a spinning rush, and he was home.”
“Dean!”
He was barely on steady legs when She slammed into him, sending him stumbling slightly back as his arms wrapped around her, careful not to push too far into the baby bump.
“Hey, Sweetheart. I heard you missed me-“
“Of course I missed you, you asshole!” She pushed off of him, shoving his chest slightly. “Do you have any idea how many pies are just rotting in the fridge for you! You said the hunt would be fast, Dean, but I was stuck alone for four fucking days-“
Dean frowned. “Wasn’t Cas-“
“Cas doesn’t count!” She screamed, and over her shoulder, Cas didn’t look that offended. He’d probably gotten this outburst—and the following, tearful apology—at least twice already. “Cas isn’t you! He didn’t knock me up and then leave me-“
Dean thought about pointing out that he had not left Her, but thought better of it and let her keep shouting. She usually calmed herself down.
Usually.
“And Cas is an angel, and he’s been okay, and I feel so bad because I was such a bitch to him, but he deserved it! He wasn’t you! And I missed you and I hate you, Dean, I fucking hate you, why weren’t you home-“
Dean caught Her hands in his, pressing a gentle kiss to Her knuckles. “I’m home now, baby-“
“I know.” She whispered, crumbling in half a second into Dean, clinging to him like a koala. “And I missed you so much, De. I can’t do the laundry with this stupid bump, I can’t do anything, I’m useless and I’m a bitch and I think made Cas cry-“
“I’d pay to see you make Cas cry,” Dean muttered Her name, running a slow hand through her hair. “And you’re not useless. You’re growing a person, that freaking awesome and insane-“
She tilted her head back, pretty eyes glossy and wide on Dean’s. “But what if I mess it up? What if I fuck the baby up and you leave me-“
“I’m never gonna leave you.”
“But I’ve been mean-“
“You’re always mean, baby.” Dean grinned at her, letting his affection show in his voice. “And it’s always pretty freakin’ hot. And you aren’t gonna fuck up the baby, and I’m not gonna leave you, but,” he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “If you wanna make Sammy cry a little more, I think he’ll deserve it.”
She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling again. “I’m not making Sam cry-“
“He said you had mood swings.”
She gasped, hitting Dean’s chest. “You’re a snitch-“
“Gotta spread the love somehow.” Dean shrugged, squeezing his hands on Her as he dropped his voice down. “But I can think of a few other ways, just you and me, to spread some better love.”
She flushed—already putty in Dean’s arms—and almost dragged him back to their room.
And this made it worth it. All the screaming and flying objects and threats, all the living in cautious fear in his own damn home, was more than worth it for this. Not just the awesome sex—sex was always awesome, sex with Her was better than almost anything, and sex with pregnant Her was what Dean imagined crack was like—but the way that, in the end, She smiled at him no matter what. She smiled and giggled and moaned, proving to Dean in a million ways both between the sheets and after that she didn’t really hate him, and he got to rest his head on her stomach and feel a small kick near his brow. Her fingers combed through his hair peacefully, all her noises made of content, and everything was more than worth it.
Worth pushing through the worst of the screaming and moods—just like She’d pushed through all of his world-saving bullshit—to see Her peaceful face as she slept by his side. Worth letting Sam drive the Impala just once, so Dean could get home faster.
Worth the family he was finally getting to have, and being here with them.
End Note: Sam Winchester once again being a true trooper in my stories.
Title from Next to Me by Imagine Dragons
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