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after-witch · 2 years ago

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Song of a Broken Heart [NeedleAndDead OC Lucas x Reader]

Title: Song of a Broken Heart [NeedleAndDead OC Lucas x Reader]

Synopsis: You crossed a line with Lucas, and it could never be taken back. OC belongs to @needleanddead

Word count: 1700ish

Notes: yandere; kidnapped reader; violence; gore; reader death; you fuck around and find out!

There was blood on your hands. Not a lot. Just a smear of blood that still clung to your skin, despite the fact that you were running through the woods at a speed you never knew you could accomplish.

It wasn’t your blood, though. It was from Lucas. Only a smidge, what had seeped from his shoulder when you pulled the knife out.

The knife had clattered to the cabin floor as he stood there in absolute shock. And then you ran through the front door, bolting as fast as you could.

You didn’t even have shoes on. The forest floor whipped at your bare feet. Rocks and branches and bramble. But the pain had to be ignored. It had to.

Lucas was behind you. He was coming. You knew he was, without turning back, without thinking. You swore you heard him breathing hard; gruff, growling noises that made your bowels turn icy and spurred you on to run even faster.

It could have been an animal. It was night. It was the woods. But animals did not sound so purposeful. Animals did not let out sounds of rage directed, you were sure, squarely at you.

The woods were dark. The full moon above helped a little, but not enough. You weren’t familiar with them, in the way Lucas was. That was how he’d gotten you in the first place. Stupid, lost little you, apparently ripe for the picking while the rest of your camping party was hacked to death.

And here you were, back in those woods, this time running for your life all over again.

Don’t stop. Don’t fall. Don’t stop. Don’t fall. If you do, he’ll get you. If he gets you…

You didn’t see the hole you stepped in. You only felt your ankle crack, only felt the wind rush at your face. You hit the ground with a dumb oof sound. Your hands scraped against the ground, rocks and branches, squishy mildew.

But then there was the sensation of someone standing behind you. Gradually, reality came into focus, and you heard him. His breathing. The ground crunching underneath his boots. You pulled yourself along, scrambling backwards like a crab so you could at least see him from your position on the ground.

You almost wished you hadn’t.

He looked wild, manic, his chest heaving and blood still seeping from his shoulder.

Adrenaline propelled you on your feet, even though your foot dragged pitifully as you took limping steps backward. Back and back until you hit a tree. A big, beautiful tree that had been there for hundreds of years before you were ever born and would be there after your corpse was eaten away.

There was nowhere to go. He had you. And it was then that you noticed the axe dragging in his hand for the first time.

“Oh, God,” you said, eyes darting around wildly. Cornered animal and all. Where could you go? There had to be an escape. There had to be.

But.

There was none.

You were trapped in the woods, and he was going to kill you.

He took another step closer and your stomach clenched. Urine ran down your leg, warm against the inside of your pants.

“Please, p-please--” The begging came out all stuttered, incoherent. Stupid. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t really listening to your words, anyway.

He stalked forward. The scar on his neck seemed to stick out more in the moonlight, making it look shiny, damp with his sweat.

“You…” He said, and oh, there was so much contempt in it. It had nothing of the soft, cooing tone that Lucas reserved for you before. Patient and entirely delusional.

Now? Now he fucking hated you, and you saw it raw and clear in him as he came towards you.

The leaves underfoot crunched, branches snapped, and your nerves jolted with each sound.

He stopped in front of you, and it made it worse. Because up close, you couldn’t hide from the anger in his eyes. Anger and hatred and something worse--betrayal. He looked hurt. But the hurt wasn’t soft. It wasn’t something you could smooth over with some sweet words and a kiss on the cheek.

This was a deep hurt, blood red, pulsing with anger. A hurt there was no coming back from.

“Lucas,” you breathed out. Your throat was so dry. You had no spit left to swallow. Your chest twinged in pain every time you breathed. “Please, I’m sorry, I’m--”

“Shut your fucking mouth.” His spit fell on your cheek, and--

The axe connected with your shoulder before you realized he even swung his arm. There was a startling sound that seemed to come from within your body; a crunching, thudding noise, as the blade broke through your flesh and into the bones of your shoulder.

It hurt in a way you couldn’t comprehend. You had never hurt this much before. And now there was so much pain, concentrated, heavy.

Your body fell forward as you let out a guttural cry, but the blade was stuck into the tree behind you, keeping you pinned by your ruined flesh. You didn’t get far.

You whined in your throat. “Lucas,” you said, barely making sense, half-shrieking the words. “Lucas, wait, wait, I’ll do, I have, I won’t, just--just--” useless, meaningless words came and went as tears streamed down your cheeks.

You cried out again when he pulled against the axe, yanking it out of your shoulder.

“Oh,” you said, mouth gaping in incomprehensible pain. “Oh--” Blood ran down your skin. You looked at the axe, its silver blade was coated with a thin stream of your blood. A piece of your flesh stuck to it.

“My… my shoulder…” You said, whimpering. Your hand went up to graze the injury and it only hurt more. A chunk of your flesh had come out with the blade, and it went deep enough to cut through some of the bone.

You didn’t quite understand what you were seeing; you’d never been hurt like this. This couldn’t be real. This was something that happened in movies...

The blood that met your fingers mingled with Lucas’ dried blood. You were bleeding. You were bleeding because he hit you with an axe.

When you looked back at him, your eyes were wide with shock and horror and a little hurt of your own.

He didn’t look at you with pity or sympathy. He was breathing wildly, eyes wide. There was blood on his own shoulder from where you stuck the knife in.

Christ, it hadn’t been a carefully thought out plan. It had been stupid and impulsive. He left the knife out for once--and now, you thought, had he done that on purpose?--and you took your chance.

Only you missed his neck.

Only you realized, far too late, that there was no way you could get away from him, even if he was injured.

“Can’t believe I let you trick me.” Lucas was muttering now, his voice hot, low, bitter. His breath hit your cheek, spittle flying. “Just another fake. Liar. Bitch.”

The word stung in the air like a slap.

Not because it hurt your feelings. But because the words confirmed the warm, creeping knowledge that teased and tickled at your chest: you were going to die out here.

You should have known that from the moment your fingers curled around the hilt of the knife, really. But you’d been hoping, stupidly, that you could kill him then. Then you’d hoped, stupidly, that you could run away.

Look where that hope got you.

Your body trembled as pain radiated down your shoulder and your arm. You tried to move it and it made a grinding noise, which did nothing to cover up the pained moan from your lips.

“Wasted my time,” he spat again, and the axe connected with your shoulder again. “Wasted my love.”

The pain was not shocking now, and none of it was masked by adrenaline or surprise. It was sharp and explosive, invasive, sticking inside you like tar.

You screamed and screamed as he hacked away, covering the sounds of his enraged noises, but it didn’t matter. You couldn’t move away. You couldn’t run. You could only feel every last bit of agony as the the blade pinned you each time he swung, precise, strong--until your arm was hanging on by ropes of bleeding tissue. Sharp edges of bone stuck out from the hole.

He swung one more time, and your arm fell to the forest floor. More blood spurted from the wound, seeping, half-gushing out as you stared at the empty, mangled space where your arm used to be.

“My arm,” you said, blank, voice hoarse and barely audible.

Lucas, breathing through his teeth, promptly grabbed you by the collar of your shirt and threw you to the ground without a word.

You tried to scramble away, and there was the dim thought--why isn’t my right arm moving?--before a boot stomped down on your chest.

Sparks exploded behind your eyes, and your chest cracked and split. More pain, this time radiating from inside you, feeling sharp and awful. Something foamy and metallic bubbled up from your lips, and you stopped trying to scramble away. Your arm wasn’t working very well, anyway.

Lucas stood above you, eyes burning with disdain and rage. You could see him so well, despite the pain, despite the blood loss and agony that was starting to make everything so fuzzy.

Your blood was splattered across his face like freckles.

Lucas’s body went all blurry as he moved above you. Turning, pivoting a little and… What was he doing? What was he--

Somewhere, in the distance, you thought you heard chickens.

The axe came down on your face in one swift motion.

There was sudden blackness and untold pain. Hot. Awful. Your nose and mouth split in half, your forehead cracking. There was again the awful inward sound of your bones crunching, like some sort of vibrating speaker that radiated pain. This time that sound blotted out everything else, including the stuttered cry that came from your broken mouth.

He pulled the axe out and raised it again, though you couldn’t see it anymore, couldn’t really think about what was happening other than pain.

Your body jerked reflectively, your arms and legs twitching like a poorly made puppet. You felt only pain and wetness. Blood and urine and tears and something bitter foaming from your mouth.

You heard a sound and there was undoubtedly a final thought somewhere in you, but it was only something half-formed and primal that guttered out as Lucas’ axe came down and severed your skull in half.

Then there was nothing at all.

You were gone.

#yandere #yandere oc #other's ocs #murder oc #I guess former yandere considering lol #oh reader honey #afterwitch writes #sometimes you just gotta die #happy valentine's day!

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lincolndjarin · 1 year ago

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Oh Honey. ✩ Chapter 4

chapter four : painting the roses red

series masterlist ao3 kofi main masterlist

a/n : omfg im so sorry for how long this took to get out, with finishing another a fic and the holidays ive been swamped and this chapter was a bit of a monster (haha) so it took a lot of writing and rewriting but i'm relatively pleased with how it turned out. i hope y'all enjoy the penultimate chapter of oh honey!!

pairing : monster!joel miller x mortician!reader

rating : 18+ mdni - explicit content, read all warnings

word count : 11.7k

summary : feeling are hard, especially when your boyfriend is a blood thirsty monster and you’re supernaturally attracted to him.

warnings, etc. : dead dove do not eat, angst, graphic violence, language, smut, joel and reader are both not in good headspaces, dubcon (reader & joel are compelled to be together, all sexual acts are consensual but there is a uncontrolled attraction between the two characters), fingering in every sense of the word, joel is real beastly in this, spit kink (so much spit guys), oral m&f receiving, monster sex, vaginal&anal penetration, double penetration, body horror, rough sex, tit fucking, thigh fucking, cock warming, cum eating, size kink, period sex, blood drinking, gore, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, you know how joel has a big dick in every fic? what if he was literally 8 feet tall and an actual monster? that's how big his dick is in this, somnophilia, spit as lube, i'm making a lot of stuff up regarding vaginal&anal elasticity, biting, marking, death, readers hair is long enough to pull, i'm probably missing tags cause this chapter is a lot but tldr - joel is a monster with a monster cock and he's putting it in all sorts of places. this is a monster fucker fic - proceed accordingly

“Joel…” You give him a wary look as he bares his teeth at you, a low rumble starting in his throat as your instincts kick in. “Joel!” You yell like you would if you were scolding a dog and he freezes in place.

Your head is fuzzy and you can only hope that his is as well. That supernatural attraction you have for him suddenly feels as if it’s increased tenfold.

He doesn’t just smell good anymore. He has an aura now, the air around him is heavy, like you’re breathing in water. The scent of it is thick with lavender and peppermint, it’s a fresh and earthy smell that makes you want to inhale deeper.

You want to touch him, taste him. His skin looks so smooth like this, pulled taut and tight, you have to fight the urge to run your fingers across it just to see if it’s as silky as it looks. You want to grab him by the antlers and hold him in place so you can just breathe in the floral smell of his breath.

He hovers above you, unmoving as if waiting for a command. His large glassy eyes give you a curious look and you take the opportunity to sit up a bit straighter.

He’s scratching the hardwood.

It’s the silliest detail to focus on but Joel clearly loves his home, he takes such good care of it and the last thing you want is for him to accidentally destroy it in this state. So you do the only thing you can think to do on such short notice.

“Let’s go to bed Joel. I’m tired.” You get to your feet extremely slowly, he backs up enough to let you stand. Practically purring when you hold your hand out, he reaches his out to meet yours. Your entire hand fits in his palm so you just take one of his fingers, wrapping your hand around it as you lead him down the hall. When you open his bedroom door he rushes in excitedly, curling up on the mattress in the middle of the room.

You reach up, turning the overhead light on but he immediately flinches, snarling as you quickly turn it off.

“I’ll- umm, go get a lamp.” You turn to leave but a large hand grips your waist. You put your hands over it, carefully peeling his fingers off of you. “I’m just going to the living room… I’ll be right back.” He huffs. You feel his exhale on your back as you hurry out into the hall. Your stomach churns instantly.

It’s hard to be away from him under normal circumstances but just being in a different room now makes you want to hurl.

You move swiftly. Unplugging the first lamp you find.

You should run.

The smart thing to do right now would be to grab his keys off the counter, get in the truck, and call Tommy.

But is that what you really want?

You’re trying to think of any reasons you have to not be with Joel but your mind is so cloudy, you can’t recall a single thing.

So you take the lamp back to his room. Plugging it in, dimly illuminating the room before shutting the door.

Your body isn’t sure what to do.

You’re afraid. More afraid than you’ve ever been. But also disturbingly aroused. He sits on the bed. If he had a tail you’re certain it'd be wagging. He looks so excited. How much of him is still Joel? Certainly not all of it, it seems like him but… beastly? He doesn’t seem to understand boundaries or human etiquette in general.

But his eyes are Joel’s.

It’s all of Joel’s personality traits with absolutely zero inhibitions.

Once the lamp is plugged in and on he makes his way to the edge of the bed before reaching forward, one talon hooks onto your shirt collar. He tears through it, dragging you forward as you stumble into his lap.

“You’re sleepy?” He grumbles. You nod frantically and he tosses you down onto the mattress. You land with a soft thud. You can add ‘not aware of his own strength’ onto the list of things you know about Joel in this form.

He’s got a single pillow and a thin sheet. You lay your head on the pillow but have no time to grab the blanket as he lays down beside you, his entire body curled around you.

Your face is pressed into his chest and you get a chance to inhale his sweet scent.

It goes straight to your core.

It feels like you must be gushing at this point.

You decide to turn around. It doesn’t cross your mind to not turn your back on him until it’s too late. He grabs you, pulling you flush against him. His talons scrape across your clothes. Every slice has you wincing, you’re waiting to see blood but he’s careful.

He never so much as nicks you.

You remain unmoving through the process only watching until he begins to peel your clothes off of you until you’re in your underwear which he immediately makes quick work of.

Okay.

You're naked in bed with your monster boyfriend, what could go wrong?

“Pretty.” He speaks in a low bellowing tone.

“Thank you, Joel.” You whisper back. “You’re pretty too.” He only exhales sharply in response. You go ridgid immediately when he slowly traces a claw up and down your stomach. When his hand begins dipping lower you instinctively recoil, thin scratch lines follow his movements, but he’s careful to not ever break the skin. “Not there-” He holds a hand in front of your face, letting you watch as he retracts it back into the skin, his maw nuzzling into the back of your neck as he does. You take his hand in both of yours, inspecting his fingers, seemingly no longer sharp but you’re still apprehensive. You hold him close to your face in an attempt to keep him away from your most sensitive bits, not wanting to take the risk of having your insides torn to shreds. He bumps an uncoordinated finger against your chin instead, poking at you until you apprehensively open your mouth a bit. Immediately he takes the opportunity to push a thick, gangly finger past your lips.

You inhale sharply but you can’t help yourself as you run your tongue along the digit, his skin tastes like sugar cookies and before you’re even aware of what’s happening you’re completely lost in the taste.

His fingers have practically tripled in size and as he tries to push another finger into your mouth your jaw aches at the stretch.

“Ole-” Is all you can mumble out as he scrunches up tighter around you, your throat constricting around him as he probes deeper. Could he break your jaw like this? He definitely could, you’ve seen first hand what kind of violence he’s capable of yet for some reason you don’t push him away, he’s being careful eith you.

Slow and methodical as he rests his head atop of yours he moves his fingers in and out of your mouth. It’s sort of like a blowjob. If you were blowing two boney dicks. It’s only a matter of seconds before you’re salivating wildly at the taste, your chin slick with drool as he watches each motion intently, slowing when your eyes begin to water.

“So, so pretty.” He withdrawals his fingers, sucking them into his own mouth before languidly letting his tongue drop out of his maw, licking up the spit from your chin. You’re gasping faintly, his tongue is hot silk on your lips as he slides the appendage into you. The sound is obscene as he runs his tongue along the inside of your cheeks and across your teeth, tasting every single inch of you that he can reach, and he reaches pretty far. You gag when he pushes in deeper, his jaw practically wrapped around yours as delves deeper. Finally you retch when his tongue slides into your throat and he withdrawals, licking any remnants of your saliva from your lips before staring at you with a satisfied look.

“Sleep?” Even when he whispers it feels like he’s shaking the very foundation of the house.

“Yes Joel, we should sleep.” Your voice is already raspy from the brief interaction. He picks the blanket up between two talons, pulling it up over you before wrapping himself around you entirely, caging you against his chest and between his arms.

You should be afraid, you should be absolutely appalled by everything that’s just happened but you’re tired. You’re so, so, tired and Joel is warm. And he’s safe, no one and nothing can hurt you here with him.

You haven’t slept well in ages.

And he smells so nice.

When his breathing slows and the large expanse of his chest heaves you shut your eyes, unable to find the energy to do anything else.

You wake with a start when Joel bumps his face against yours, when you open your eyes he’s staring at you rather nervously, a slight anxiety behind the darkness of his eyes.

“Are you hungry?” He mumbles, knocking a few items towards you on the bed. You stare at the bottle of water and poorly constructed sandwich, the bread squished and torn. You can’t help but smile at the gesture.

“Thank you.” You sip at the water before eating the messy sandwich, it isn’t terrible, and he clearly made an effort. You stifle a laugh at the thought of him in this state maneuvering around the kitchen. He sits patiently beside you, occasionally scratching at his antlers until you’re finished. Once you’re taken care of in that regard he makes a hushed whining noise that has your head turning in an instant. “Are you okay?” It almost sounds like he’s in pain as you scoot towards him, keeping the blanket held up against your chest to maintain some sense of your modesty. He nods, almost looking bashful as the parts of his face that are still intact blush red.

“Can you sit with me?” He motions towards his lap as you nod, moving to sit between his legs with your back to his chest. His hands go to touch you but he stops himself hovering above you until you nod.

“It’s okay, you can touch.” You’re less nervous now that you’ve had him in your mouth, certain he isn’t going to tear into you. And with that his hands pull down the blanket. He tosses it aside as he pushes your legs up onto his, spreading you wide open as he rests his head on your shoulder, inhaling deeply. He makes sure you can watch him retract his claws before he tilts his head forward before letting a thick line of saliva fall down his tongue onto your breasts, watching with heavy breaths as it falls down your body until it crests above your mound. With a sharp inhale you can feel him drip along your seam. Once it’s where he wants it he happily glides his fingers across your core, rubbing his spit in, before you’re even a little ready for it he your entrance, pushing a finger into you as the air is punched out of your stomach by the suddenness. He leans forward to get a better view as your pussy sucks him in.

You’re dizzy. Drunk purely off of his touch as you lean back to rest against him as he pushes further till you’ve taken his entire finger. Delicately, like you might break, he fucks you with the digit, it isn’t until he begins moving in and out that you see the mixture of slick that pouts out of you like a fountain. Some of it’s his spit but the rest is an intricate design of reds, pinks, and whites. You hadn’t even remembered you were on your period, everything has been such a whirlwind.

He doesn’t seem to mind getting his hands dirty. If anything the sight of blood seems to egg him on as he speeds up, opting to curl his finger every so often to press the spongy nerves there that make your ankles dig into the mattress and your back arch off of him. Your stomach tightens with every press of the tip of his finger against your insides.

“Joel- oh my god, Joel please.” You ramble a messy chant of his name as his other hand glides down your torso. He barely even has to ghost his fingers over your clit to make you lurch forward, seeing stars as he holds you tight. Your walls tighten around him as you come with a choked up cry.

The second you come you don’t even have a second to breathe before he’s lifting you up by your hips, squeezing to maneuver you so you’re flat on your back and held up by your ankles

“Joel!” You yelp in surprise but you're silent the second he reaches up to put his finger into your mouth, your tongue melting against his skin, reveling in the taste of the mixture. The sharp tang of your own fluids is present but they’re overpowered by the traces of his saliva. Your eyes shut as your hands grab his wrist, sucking him clean in the process. It’s warm, like how scotch would go down but it tastes like maple syrup and you just can’t stop.

You want more. More Joel, as much as he’ll give you. You grip his finger with your lips as he removes it with a faint pop, settling down by your legs. His crooked spine curls up even when he lays on his stomach like this. In any other instance you’d feel self conscious of the way he examines your most intimate areas in the lamp light but you’re too blissed out to care. You start to prop yourself up to look down at him but just as you do he starts touching you again. You collapse down onto the mattress with a filthy moan as he pushes his finger back into you, with much more ease this time around. As his pointer finger twitches and wiggles around within you you feel his middle finger drifting lower. You’re so slick between your legs because of everything that he doesn’t need any sort of lubricant to press into your other hole. You’re thankful for how slow he goes. Alternating between soft nudges against your g-spot to deeper presses into your ass as he tries to fill you as much as possible.

The sound of flesh slapping together fills the room as he begins moving rapidly, in and out, and in and out, and in and out. Until you can’t think straight. You don’t make a sound, only able to open your mouth in a silent scream accompanied by gasps.

You aren’t entirely sure what his intentions were with how long he fucks you on his hand until he finally pulls it away, his breath hot as he salivates at the sight of your twitching, puffy holes.

He was warming you up to take his tongue.

Once his mouth latches onto you he can’t control himself. Immediately he delves into the soaking wet heat between your thighs, poking and prodding every nerve and sensitive spot within you. You watch with morbid fascination as he unhinges his jaw enough to fully envelop your pussy. His teeth graze the plush skin of your mound as he pushes further into you, the tip of his tongue pokes at your cervix but he just keeps pushing.

“Ah-” You gasp, hands darting downwards to grab at his curls, holding tight as he flattens the base of his tongue against your clit. In one fluid moment he pulls himself out of you, sliding down, prodding at your asshole. It’s a foreign sensation as he licks up and down, from your puckered hole back up to your clit. It leaves you buzzing and craving more. He teases between your clit and hole, slurping and humming, as if he were eating a delicious meal.

You don’t do anything but stare at the ceiling trying to stay conscious as he pulls orgasm after orgasm from your weeping cunt. When your legs begin to shake and go limp on either side of his head he grunts in discontent, simply picking up each of your ankles and setting them on his antlers as if they were stirrups. He seems to prefer you in that position and you do too, you don’t have to worry about anything other than remembering how to inhale and exhale, and he has all the access he could possibly want to the home he finds between your legs.

Funnily enough he’s more human than ever when his face is pressed into your folds. He certainly talks more, constantly mumbling into your tender flesh.

“S’ so sweet.” It isn’t the first time he’s said that, you can’t help but wonder what you taste like to him. His mouth is a bloody mess as his lips wrap around your hole as best they can, trying to pull more blood from you. When he briefly pulls away he exhales, satisfied, before returning to his work. “So- so fuckin’ sweet.” He growls, the vibrations pulling an almost painful orgasm out of you. “Fuckin’ made for me.”

He’s relentless and endless.

When he knows you can’t take anymore he gives you small breaks. Nipping at your thighs and chest to satisfy himself instead. He doesn’t break the skin, just scraping his teeth against you while trailing the faint sting with his tongue. You come to your senses briefly as he’s dragging his teeth over your pebbled nipple. There’s no more shame or hesitation, you can’t control yourself as you grab him by the antlers, bringing up to your face as you hungrily open your mouth. He obliges immediately, spitting onto your waiting tongue before going back to his work.

It doesn’t take much after that for you to be completely gone. Melting into his eager maw, letting him have you entirely.

Are you still conscious? If your eyes are open they aren’t seeing anything. You’re pretty sure you’re asleep. If you are, it isn't slowing him down in the slightest but you can’t complain, you couldn’t form a sentence if you tried.

You just let yourself sleep.

And you don’t dream.

His head is using your stomach as a pillow as he snores softly. There’s a bottle of water thrown down beside you that you gratefully take, drinking the entirety down in one go.

The sound of your drinking makes him stir.

When he wakes he crawls upwards, he presses something sort of like a kiss to your lips before adjusting you both.

He lifts you into his lap, cradling you between his thighs as he rubs you down against the tent in his pants. As far as you can tell he hasn’t sought any relief of his own these last couple days but it certainly feels like that’s what’s about to happen. You can feel his monstrous cock against your legs, you hadn’t even considered until just now that it would have gotten bigger along with the rest of him, too distracted by everything else, but you’re suddenly aware of how just massive the thing pressed against you is, a small tree trunk nestled between your thighs as his fingers pull your ankles apart to further rub himself into you.

One large hand holds you in place as the other tears at the pants you still can’t believe survived his transformation, they don’t survive the small razors of his talons though as he slices through the flimsy fabric and your mouth falls open in disbelief.

He slaps his length down onto your stomach, pulling you down so you’re essentially sitting with it between your legs. His breath is hot and heavy against your face.

It’s as if he’s sizing himself up, trying to figure out just how far into your stomach he’d go. Your fear is apparent as you stare down at the sheer size of him.

A tree trunk was definitely an exaggeration.

It’s closer to a baseball bat.

To accomplish his size his foreskin has pulled back a bit, now giving you a perfect view of his leaking tip, angry and red.

You gulp, almost comically.

How the fuck are you supposed to fit something the size of your forearm into your vagina? The simple answer is you aren’t, at least not now. He lays you back down on the bed, your heart rate picks up at the thought of him trying to squeeze himself into you but thankfully he moves upwards instead.

He sets his dick down onto your sternum. His massive hands come down to push your chest up, trying to wrap your tits around his length roughly as you gasp.

“Joel- Joel let me do it, hon.” You gently lift your own hands to remove his, carefully avoiding his extended claws as you do so. He grunts but relents, placing his hands on either side of your head as he lets a thick line of spit fall off of his tongue onto your tits. Without missing a beat he begins to rock himself between them.

Slow and steady at first but quickly he picks up his pace, grunting and clawing at the mattress around you as he tilts his head back. You can’t help yourself as you open your mouth, letting his cock head slide in and out of your mouth. It’s the closest you’re gonna get to blowing him when he’s this size.

If you thought he’d tasted good before you’d been sorely mistaken. He tastes comfortable and familiar now, like hot chocolate and marshmallows.

Sweet and sticky as he leaks onto your tongue.

He doesn’t last very long at the speed he’s going, needy and desperate to paint your face.

With a few more quick thrusts he falls forward, his body arching over yours as he comes with a snarl, tearing into the mattress, as your face is coated in his cum, more than you’ve ever seen before. Enough to completely cover the bottom half of your face as your mouth falls open. You’re ravenous in your efforts to lick it up. When he calms down a bit he leans back to help you, scooping up his spend with his fingers and pressing it onto your tongue. With greedy little sounds you swallow every last bit.

“You’re okay?” He mumbles as you sit up.

“I’m good.” You smile, when was the last time you thought clearly? Your head is spinning, everything about him is too good to be true. It’s as if you never feared him at all.

He gives you a few minutes to recover before he’s raring to go again. You watch as his cock slaps up against his stomach as he stares at you.

“Already?” You give him a skeptical look as he nods. He picks you up once more, spreading your legs apart as he settles himself between them.

Grabbing you by your hips he begins to move you up and down. The only effort you have to make is squeezing your thighs around him, he does the rest for you, stroking you up and down his length as if you were his own personal fleshlight. Your tits bounce with each slam downward, you cunt aching from the friction. Eventually he spits again, watching as the string falls down to his cock, effectively coating him and making it easy to move you quicker. When he leans down, licking the pulse points on your neck you wrap your fingers around his antlers in an attempt to steady yourself.

He’s not touching you enough.

He ghosts over your clit with every thrust but it just isn’t enough contact as you whine. After a few more agonizing seconds you feel a sharp pinch as he finishes across your chest. When he pulls away his front teeth are slick with blood. Your hand flies to your neck and you quickly find the source of your brief pain. He looks ashamed as you shake your head.

“It’s okay, you just got excited.” You whisper, he doesn’t shy away as you pull yourself up to wrap your arms around his neck. “It’s okay.” He hums softly and you feel him continuing to lap at the wound.

He doesn’t give you a break this time around.

Holding his hand in his lap as you ride his fingers, keeping your arms around his neck as you use him as leverage to help you lift up and off of him only to slam back down. You struggle to catch your breath as you chase that satisfaction you aren’t sure you’re ever going to reach. Will it ever be enough? Or will you always feel this painful hunger for him?

You don’t get a chance to linger on your worries as he grinds his palm upwards into your clit, pulling an orgasm from your exhausted body. You’re so full, almost too full as you lay limply against him. Two monstrous fingers pressed into your weary cunt and one in your ass as you let out a sob of pleasure.

“Joel- Joel I can’t do it anymore, I-I’m too tired.” You sniffle in his lap as he runs a hand through your hair.

“Can I- can I put it in while you sleep?” He mumbles. In any other circumstance you’d be furious at that kind of question but the idea’s too appealing. He’s too appealing. You nod and that’s all he needs. He lays back on the shredded mattress as you straddle his lap. His cock stands stiff in front of you as you trace a finger through the coarse hair at the base, lightly scraping your fingernails across the prominent vein running along the underside of his shaft before finally sitting up, trying to line him up at your entrance before taking a deep breath.

“Jesus- fuck Joel.” You’re unable to form any sort of coherent sentence as you lower yourself down onto him. You’re thankful for whatever mysterious force makes you crave him so dearly because you’re certain that without it you’d be in immense pain, the ruddy head of his cock feels like a fucking grapefruit being squeezed into your vagina. It’s a slow, arduous process. He makes no effort to rush you, remaining quiet outside of his whimpers as you struggle to push him in deeper. It becomes clear at one point that he isn’t going to fit any deeper unless he wants to poke your lungs. You’re slick with sweat, panting as you look at him for approval. His eyes stare in awe at you, a finger tracing the vague bulge in your stomach where he rests inside of you.

You’re so weary you just fall forward onto him. Laying your head on his chest, his cock pulsing within your walls, straining to adjust to him as both moan in unison. You want to stay awake, you want to ride him and watch his face as you take more and more of him but you’re so fucking tired you can’t even keep your eyes open. Trying to get just a bit of rest.

He doesn’t seem to care what part of you he’s fucking as long as he gets to stick himself somewhere. At one point he tries to put it in your belly button and you have to swat him away.

You don’t get much sleep, he doesn’t seem to need much of it so you don’t get any either.

“Wake up.” You feel his maw rifling through your hair, his teeth softly scrape against the back of your neck. “Please.”

You hum, half asleep, and reaching around in the darkness to gently push his face away as he huffs with indignation.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” You massage the tense flesh of his jaw as he tilts himself down, nudging his nose against your face.

“Missed you.”

“Oh, honey, I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.” You murmur, a pang of sympathy fills your chest. “I’m just tired.”

You’re always tired.

You weren’t sleeping well before your monster boyfriend was spending every waking moment fucking you senseless and you definitely aren’t now.

He whines, high pitched from the back of his throat.

“You feel a lot of big emotions when you’re like this, don’t you hon.” Your voice is soft and raspy as you reach for him.

“Got bored without ya.” He grumbles, leaning into your touch as you struggle to find his eyes in the darkness.

You want to enjoy his praises more but you still aren’t l sure if it’s him at this, how conscious is the Joel you know in there?

“Joel?”

“Hmm?” His tongue pokes at your jaw as he hums.

“How much of this is really you? Do you remember our dates? Our fights?”

“S’all me. M’just bigger.”

“Mhmm. Is it a little fuzzy for you? Being near me?”

“S’warm.” It is. He’s like a goddamn furnace but you don’t care if you get burnt as long as you stay warm.

“Yeah?”

“And fuzzy, I s’pose.” He inhales deeply, snout buried in your hair. “I like bein’ near you.”

“I like being near you too Joel.” You’re almost certain you don’t. A nagging feeling in the back of your mind tells you that something is horribly wrong here. Any of those thoughts vanish though as you realize he’s still nestled deep within you, something that you’ve been waking up to more and more often. Your cunt flutters around him as you cautiously slide him out of you. A flood of relief washing over your sore muscles as you do so but the reprieve is short.

He twists you around so you’re on your hands and knees, briefly thrusting haphazardly between your thighs before grunting in frustration, slapping himself down on your back. After a brief pause you feel the familiar sensation of his saliva on your lower back, his cock sliding through the mess as he plays with the meat of your ass. Eventually he moves, you’re a little worried he might try and fuck your ass like this but thankfully he seems more than content just rocking his hips against the swell of your cheeks, watching your holes twitch eagerly until he can’t help himself, sliding back into your still puffy cunt.

“Christ Joel!” You squeal as he presses up into your cervix in one hasty motion.

You can practically feel him in your throat as he snarls, once again taking complete control over your body as he holds your hips, pulling you back onto his length. He’s so thick, splitting you open, pressing into every soft spot within you until you’re seeing spots in your vision. He’s hell bent on trying to squeeze himself into you entirely despite the fact that it simply isn’t going to happen.

How long have you been here?

As your mind wanders he seemingly senses your mood shift as a large hand begins rubbing soft circles into your clit until you forget any of your concerns.

It’s easy to lose your train of thought when you’re coming your brains out.

“Joel, Joel, Joel.” You gasp out as his grip on your hips tenses.

“Fuck- I fuckin’- bunny-” He unravels, face buried in your hair as he rambles.

He isn’t far behind you, when you come he pulls out quickly. His cum coats your spine, a few flecks settling in your hair as you collapse, already tired again, now with a satisfied Joel laying on top of you.

“Love you so fuckin’ much.” He mumbles, barely audible.

You pretend not to hear it.

It’s a never ending cycle.

Wake up, fuck, drink water if it’s there, sleep, repeat.

You don’t say anything but Joel as he wrenches the word from your throat over, and over, and over again.

Until you wake up with his head between your legs, the moment you smiled down at him he pulled off of you with a grunt.

He stumbles back and away from you, groaning in pain, your instinct is to immediately go to him but he holds his hands up in front of himself to stop you.

“Joel?”

Your hands fly to your ears, your palms trying to block out the sound of his wailing. It’s somehow worse, watching it in reverse. The way his bones break so suddenly, his skin ripples and does its best to adjust but it looks like agony as it tries to push itself back into its proper shape despite the fact that there’s simply too much blood in his body. He’s leaking out the excess. Eyes, ears, nose and mouth, the blood just has nowhere else to go. You want to help him, to hold him but you can’t seem to move, you’re a captivated audience to the macabre display.

His mouth is the worst of it. His jaw retreats back into its proper place before the skin has time to mend and the teeth have time to retract, making a gruesome mess of the bottom half of his face as his mouth does it’s best to hold too many teeth that are too big and too sharp as the push his tongue back into his throat while butchering his lips, reducing them to bloody shreds.

Finally your brain manages to move your limbs as you rush forward, taking his face in your hands, trying to calm him down as he roars, pained and frightened. You press your forehead to his, whispering to him.

“Hey- hey you’re okay. You’re okay.” His antlers begin to retreat back into his skull with a wet crunching. Each inch further has him wincing and crying out as you rub the tender skin of his cheeks as the holes in the flesh splice back together.

Until it’s finally over and everything is quiet.

Then it happens.

It’s like waking up.

Like you’ve been trapped in a dense, dense, fog. A salt and peppered, vanilla flavored, pine scented fog, and when the mist clears you see the truth that was hiding from you these past few days.

And you see the monster.

It doesn’t matter that he stayed here with you and didn’t hurt anyone during this cycle. It doesn’t matter that you’re ‘destined’ to be with him. And it doesn’t matter that he loves you.

You’re looking at a monster.

And that fact has nothing to do with the creature he turned into. He killed people, good people, innocent people. How the hell are you supposed to love him like this?

You don’t love him.

You can’t. He’s sick, he’s a murderer.

And you haven’t even addressed Darlene in the slightest.

He’s a monster, and a killer.

And currently he’s sat across from you with a rather stunned look on his face, holding the blanket up over his waist, blood still slick on his skin.

You do the only logical thing that comes to mind and you stand, walking out of the room, grateful that he doesn’t try to stop you. You search his laundry room for clothes, eventually finding a stretched out Fleetwood Mac shirt in the dryer and some basketball shorts that fit you well enough.

You’re trying to recall the events of the last few days but it’s all so blurry it makes your head hurt as you walk back into the kitchen, desperate to just get out of here.

Your phone is on the counter, dead, you don’t have a way out of here so with a sigh you unravel your charger, plugging it in on the counter. You listen for any signs of Joel but you hear nothing, a part of you wants to go check on him but you can’t bring yourself to face him.

He’s a murderer.

Why can’t you seem to remember that?

Your stomach growls as your phone buzzes to life, your hunger taking priority as you start looking through his cupboards until you find a cereal box, not bothering to find a bowl you simply reach in. The generic sugary flavor coats your tongue as you try to remember the last time you ate anything. You certainly ate at some point, you’re pretty sure Joel didn’t eat, he’s probably hungry. You shove one last handful of cereal into your mouth before setting the box aside for him. As your phone slowly powers on you’re met with an ambush of notifications, you quickly grab the device, silencing it as you watch your screen fill with messages. The majority are from Maria but you have a few from an unknown number, you scroll through those ones first.

[ hey are you good? Marias worried sick about you ]

[ this is tommy btw ]

[ i’m sorry ]

He certainly knows what happened. Does he think you’re dead? His last message is from two days ago, Maria sent you about a dozen messages a day, some are still coming in.

[ Are you okay? ]

[ Please text me back. ]

[ I’m gonna send Tommy over. ]

[ I wanted to tell you. I’m sorry. ]

Lot’s of apologies, you aren’t sure you forgive them. You text Maria back regardless.

[ can you send tommy to pick me up? ]

You don’t bother telling her where you are, you know she knows. She’s typing for quite some time based on the little bubble you stare at until you finally get a one word response.

[ Okay. ]

You don’t bother collecting your things, a mess of restraints and tools still scattered around the room, when the truck pulls up outside you grab your phone, for the first time since you left him in his room you hear noise from the end of the hall. As the door creaks open you rush to the door, not even bothering with your boots as you run out barefoot across the grass to the truck.

“Christ, you look like shit.” He jogs across the front of the hood to open your door, taking your hand as he helps you up and into the truck.

“Thanks, Tommy.” You grumble to yourself, you haven’t actually looked in a mirror in about a week and considering everything you probably do look a little unpleasant. He makes his way back around the truck, immediately defending himself as he gets back into the driver's seat.

“I’m just sayin’, could be worse. Maria and I were worried he might have-” Both your heads tilt up as you see Joel on the porch, holding up the stretched elastic of his barely held together pajama bottoms with one hand, a profound sadness in his eyes as he meets your gaze.

“I’d like to go home now.” You murmur, thankfully Tommy makes no effort to talk to his brother, simply putting the truck in reverse and pulling out of the driveway.

It’s painfully quiet.

He doesn’t turn on the radio as the two of you drive in the silence. A silence that remains until you’re pulling into the driveway that leads up to your camper. You’re tired, confused and not in the mood for conversation as you mumble a ‘thank you’ and open the door, before you can even get the door halfway open he reaches across you, pulling it shut.

“Wait.”

“Tommy-”

“I’m not gonna make excuses.” He gives you a look that can only be described as pure desperation so you take your hand off the handle.

“Fine.”

“I just wanna make sure you’re okay.”

You aren’t sure.

“I know how Joel is when he’s like that, he’s got no self control.”

“I’m okay, Tommy.” Are you?

“You can always call me, or Maria, if ya ever need anything.” He says it in earnest as you nod. “And don’t worry about… everything, Maria always recovers within a few hours.” He gestures with his hands and you nod once more. There’s a brief moment of silence until you open the door again, this time without any resistance. “If we don’t hear from you Maria’s gonna come knockin’ on your door.” He tries to lift the mood as he laughs halfheartedly, you muster up a smile as you turn towards him.

“Thanks, Tommy.” You whisper before closing the truck door, not looking back as you twist the door knob.

You take a long shower.

Standing under the scalding water until it runs cold. Tommy was right, you do look like shit. Your skin is bruised in several places, especially your waist, despite the lack of pain. There are dark bags under your eyes as you run your fingers across the skin, and your hair is an entirely separate problem, tangled with dried spit and other fluids in certain parts. It takes ages to comb through it all with your fingers, you’re hopelessly trying to wash yourself clean of his scent. No matter how hard you try you can’t seem to be rid of the scent of pine that lingers on your skin.

Eventually your fingers dip lower. You’re not sure what you’ll find but you’re genuinely surprised to find everything to be normal, you’re a little sore and tender in some spots but other than that you’re completely fine, once again Tommy was right. You step out of the shower, wrapping a towel around yourself before darting out into the kitchen, not bothering to change as you dial the name of the takeout place. You order a pizza, feeling absolutely famished as you search around for some clothes. You put a pair of thin pajama pants on, careful to not put too much pressure on your sore bits before grabbing Joel's shirt, pushing down the twinge of shame as you stare at the Fleetwood Mac logo in your mirror.

You can’t help it.

It isn’t your fault he’s so easy to want.

What had you been doing before you got distracted by Joel for…

You check your phone,

Six days.

Jesus.

You shake the feeling of horror off. You were trying to find justice for your aunt. You’ve got a bit until the pizza’s delivered so you sit at your table, plugging her laptop in and opening a random folder, desperate to think about something other than those five days.

Focus on Darlene.

Do right by her.

Sleeping with the guy that killed her probably wasn’t the best way to do that but you shake the thought off.

There’s more video files than you even know what to do with, as you flip through them you realize she was basically doing video diaries on a daily basis.

“Fuck.” You grumble to yourself. It’ll take literal months to get through everything. After a few more minutes of trying to sort things out you find a video that is specifically named, standing out in a crowd of default files. When you scroll further you find a few more, you sort them into a separate folder until you have five files in total.

Benni.mp4

Benita&Darlene.mp4

Eulogy.mp4

TrailCam18.mp4

JMiller.mp4

You stare at the list blankly before turning your gaze to the treeline outside. The sun is setting, Joel never came for you. You set the laptop on your bed, with trembling fingers you close the curtains around the camper before pouring yourself a glass of water. You take small sips, hoping the nerves that have plagued you all day might subside but you know they won’t.

The pizza gets delivered. You eat slowly, putting off your task until you can’t any longer.

Finally, when you can’t put it off anymore you go to your bed, sitting with your back to the wall as you open the first file. You’re mentally trying to recall how old Darlene was when she passed, the video is from nearly twelve years ago and you had thought she was significantly older, but the face you’re met with is startlingly similar to your own. There are a few glaring differences but she is no doubt related to you. Chewing your lip you press play.

Benni.mp4

The camera shakes as your aunt takes a few steps back, an unseen spectator holds the camera, Darlene pushes up her boxy thick rimmed glasses as she laughs.

“This, ladies and gentleman, is the new headquarters of the Mothman Maidens!” She takes a step to the side revealing the camper, brand new, with the for sale sign still on the window.

“When did we agree on that name?” The voice behind the camera speaks.

“You don’t like it?”

“Eh.” The camera shifts as the voice shrugs.

“Always so negative, bunny.”

“That’s even worse, I hate that.”

“But you’re my bunny!”

“Your Benni. You know I hate that bunny shit.”

“Same difference.”

“Oh stop, hold this, let me do it.” She passes the camera to Darlene and now you’re watching a woman with bright red dyed hair and warm brown skin take her place. “Why are we doing this again?” The camera shakes as Darlene continues to laugh.

“Because someday when we’re famous it’ll be good for us to have videos of our humble beginnings.”

“Clearly extremely humble.” She nods sarcastically before gesturing behind her. “I’m Benita Rivera and I’m joined by the incomparable Darlene Wilson in our newly purchased first home.”

“Monster hunting headquarters.” Benita ignores her entirely, grinning from ear to ear as she begins walking backwards towards the camper.

“My lovely lady here has insisted we move to the middle of nowhere so she can finally prove once and for all that she’s absolutely fucking bonkers.”

“Ha ha.” Darlene mumbles, lighthearted and sarcastic.

“Let me show you the rest, it’s way bigger on the inside.” With an exaggerated raise of her eyebrows she swings the door open, reaching for Darlene’s hand as she pulls her up into the camper, the familiar steps that you’re used to aren’t yet built. The camper looks extremely different. The interior is painted bright colors, the furniture is mostly metal and vinyl as they walk through the space, boxes scattered about the home until Darlene sets the camera on the counter to show off the two of them. Laughing as they dance around the kitchen.

And then the video cuts.

Benita&Darlene.mp4

The camera is being held by neither one of them now, an outside force films your aunt and Benita standing at what appears to be an informal wedding ceremony. Darlene dressed in navy blue dress pants with a clean white shirt standing across from Benita in a knee length eggshell sundress. Both of them grinning from ear to ear. You don’t recognize the man behind them who’s speaking, telling a story about the first time he met Darlene.

“I now pronounce you wife and wife.” With a small chuckle he takes a step back, Darlene and Benita holding each other close as they kiss each other, people off camera cheering as they walk back down the aisle with each other.

There’s a cut to the first dance.

The two of them spinning around the small room, arm in arm. Adoration in each of their eyes as they laugh, Darlene pulling her close for another kiss.

The rest of the video is spliced together clips of the wedding.

The rest of the guests dancing, a toast where Benita calls her “my darling Darlene.” The cutting of the cake, and many, many kisses between the happy couple.

And the video ends.

Eulogy.mp4

The vibes have changed significantly, the camera now appears to be set up on a tripod, Darlene sits alone at the table in the camper. Her eyes are rimmed with red and her hair is falling out of a chaotic mess of an updo. Some time has to have passed based on the grays that now decorate her scalp.

You have to check several times to make sure the video is playing, the screen seemingly frozen until she finally blinks.

“They wouldn’t let me attend the service.” She whispers, a hint of malice lingers on every word. “Said I’d just cause a scene.” Her jaw twitches as her expression of sorrow turns to rage. “I’m her wife. How could they not let me see her? They said it’d only upset me further, I know what that actually means, it means that that thing really did a number on her. They don’t want me connecting the dots.” She sniffles.

She takes a deep breath.

“Benita Isabella Wilson.” Her voice is already trembling. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I moved us here, and that you were involved in any of this. I don’t want to do this without you, yet here I am. Lost in the woods without my compass. I just don’t understand how this is fair. You were kind, you were good.” You watch as she gets more and more upset. “You didn’t even believe in any of this bullshit, you just wanted to be a part of my life. It should’ve been me, not you.”

She takes a deep breath, looking directly into the camera lens.

“I’ll find the thing that took you.”

The video ends.

TrailCam18.mp4

The footage is grainy and extremely dark. Poor quality night vision of the woods, you don’t recognize the area but how could you, it all looks the same when you’re out there. Nothing happens for quite some time, just motionless green until in the corner you see a flash of movement followed by a disheveled man running into view, taking center stage as he trips over a tree root. He lands face first in the dirt, he can’t be much older than you as he rolls over to sit up and stare at something that hasn’t yet come into view, shaking and screaming.

The trail camera doesn’t have audio and you’re forced to watch the slaughter in harrowing silence.

You know what’s coming but it makes your stomach churn regardless.

Joel.

In all his glory.

He has the appearance of a beast but even with the terrible camera quality you can see clear as day that it’s him.

Emerging from the trees, shoulder hunched forward as you watch the muscles of his neck twitch, knowing the tell tale sign of his snarl. His victim unfortunately can’t seem to find his footing, of course it wouldn’t matter if he did, he’d never outrun Joel.

Turns out knowing he’s killed and actually seeing it are very different things. You feel sick as he grabs the struggling man by the back of the neck, slamming him into a nearby tree until the spastic movement of his legs and arms stops completely.

You feel sick.

Your lip trembles as you watch him feast. Tearing into the split open flesh as you look away from the sheer brutality of it.

Thankfully the video cuts to Darlene sitting in the dark of the camper, the only light source appears to be coming from the laptop screen in front of her.

“I fucking knew it.” She lets out a harrowing squeal of laughter. “Joel fucking Miller.”

There’s a manic look in her eyes as she swallows.

“Joel Miller.” She repeats, sadder, this time.

The video ends.

JMiller.mp4

The video opens with a somehow worse looking Darlene setting up the camera seemingly above the fridge. She doesn’t bother brushing the tangles that fall in front of her face away, her hair now streaked with gray. She looks up at the camera, opening her mouth to speak but a knock at the door has her turning, immediately swinging it open to welcome Joel into her home. They exchange pleasantries like old friends as she pours him a mug of coffee and he sets down his toolbox. They talk for a few minutes before Darlene goes quiet, it’s barely noticeable but you catch the brief silence before she speaks once more.

“Where were you this past week?” She sips her coffee. “It’s not like you to not answer the phone.” He shrugs, leaning back against the counter.

“Contractor job out of state.” He responds with his usual seamless excuse as she nods.

“Really? I drove past your place and your work truck was still there.” With another sip of her coffee the energy in the video changes drastically. A tension bubbling up between the two of them.

“Tommy drove.” His answer is short and clipped as he sets his mug down behind him.

“I went to visit Maria and Tommy was there. With your little one.” The conversation has a blatant hostility to it now as they stare at each other, a pause before Joel speaks again.

“I meant to say I took Tommy’s truck.”

“Tommy’s truck was parked outside of the house.”

Silence.

Joel’s foot taps nervously on the tile as she stares at him, waiting for an answer.

“Where were you Joel?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Why not just say that instead of lying?”

“Why am I suddenly bein’ interrogated?”

“What was so important that you had to be gone for a week and leave your young child behind?” If her goal was to make him snap it works.

“I will not have my ability to parent her questioned.” It almost sounds like a snarl, looks like it too with how he straightens up. He realizes his mistake quickly though, pinching the bridge of his nose as Darlene doesn’t so much as flinch. “What’s this about?” His voice has softened significantly.

Her expression is conflicted

“I know what you did.” Is all she whispers as she turns to stare at him, the vibes going from upsetting to downright unbearable as you watch with bated breath.

“Darlene…” For a fleeting moment you think he might actually confess. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.

“Get out.”

“Please, I’m worried about you. You clearly aren’t in a good state of mind-”

“I want you to get out.”

The footage cuts to black.

You shut the laptop the second the video ends. The date had been a two weeks before Darlene died.

Joel killed Benita.

He probably killed Darlene.

You don’t want to move. You don’t want to do anything but you stand regardless, crawling into bed, clutching your phone in your hands.

You’ve got a few missed calls from Joel but no texts. You’re too tired and too upset to deal with him right now, you’ll take care of it in the morning. You know what you want and you’re going to get it.

No more lying and dancing around things.

You want answers and you aren’t taking no for an answer.

Your head hurts. All the time. Time moves too slowly and too quickly and you can’t ever really seem to find your footing after seeing the videos.

[ are you working? ]

[ everything okay? i can be there in ten ]

You don’t want to be alone with him. You’re worried you won’t be able to control yourself.

[ can we meet somewhere? ]

[ of course ] [ whatever you want to do ] [ i can pick you up after work ]

[ i’ll meet you there. see you at six. ]

You send him to the place and turn your phone off, your nausea lets up a bit, as if your body knows you’ll see him soon. The smell of him that wafts off of his shirt helps a bit but you’re still aching for him despite how badly you wish you weren’t. You roll back over in bed, still exhausted as you set an alarm for later tonight.

That’s how you end up in an empty Applebees.

Just you and two waitresses who you watch play on their phones as you sit in the dimly lit booth. Your leg bounces up and down wildly as your eyes dart to the door.

Joel fucking Miller. You ignore the way your heart skips a beat at the sight of him in jeans and his green jacket. His eyes light up when he sees you but immediately shift to shame when he sees your expression. Brushing past the waitress he quickly rushes over to you, sitting across from you in the booth.

He starts to speak but you silence him with a glare.

“Here’s how this is gonna work. I’m going to ask you some questions and you’re going to tell me the truth. You aren’t going to make shit up, or tell me I’m crazy, you’re just going to answer.” You look up at him expectantly, his expression is riddled with guilt as he nods.

“Okay-” He begins to start but you stop him once more.

“If you lie to me even once I swear to god I will leave and I will call the police. Are we understood?”

“Police aren’t gonna do anything…” He starts mumbling but the look on your face shuts him up. “I understand.”

“I want the truth. The whole truth, with no tricks or left out information, you’re going to tell me everything.” Your leg continues to bounce as one of the waitresses sets two waters down on the table, when she asks if she can get you something else to drink you both say no in unison. Watching as she scurries away.

“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. No more lies.” He reaches across the table, trying to hold your hand but you quickly pull away. The smell of him is strong enough as is, you don’t need to feel his skin on yours, it’ll make you too vulnerable.

“What are you?” Might as well start off with your most pressing questions. He chews his lip, as if he’s trying to figure out how to phrase it.

“I’ve looked for answers, never found a proper name for it, Tommy seems to think we’re something adjacent to a wendigo.” You’re floored by the blatant honesty, a part of you assumed he was going to make things up again but it’s nice to know he isn’t hiding it anymore. Like a weight has been lifted off of you.

“How long have you, you know, been like that.”

“My whole life. Hard to predict when I’d lash out, it wasn't until you started your cycle that I would have found a strict schedule.”

“Did you know who I was?”

“No. I just knew you were out there, that’s how it is for the males, it’s easier for the women.” Women? You hadn’t considered there were others outside of the Miller brothers.

“Is it just you and Tommy?”

“It’s genetic. My grandfather passed it to my mother, who passed it to Tommy and I.” He’s never spoken about his mother before but the way he scowls when he mentions her makes you want to avoid the subject.

“So Sarah…?”

“It’s always been easier for her, she’s got the temper for it.”

“When does she… transform?”

“Whenever she wants, she’s not linked to anyone else the way we are, if she ever really lost her temper she might pop but she’s more mellow than the rest of us. Better than my mother ever was.”

“Do you have control over it? Could you transform right now if you wanted to?”

“Probably, I’ve never tried to do it on purpose, it doesn’t exactly feel great.” The sound of his bones popping in and out of place rings in your ears as you shudder.

“So Sarah doesn’t ever do it?”

“She did when she was younger. Usually when I did she would too, just so she could stay with me. Once she became a teenager she stopped, I can’t remember the last time she changed.” He takes a sip of his water, clearly gauging your reaction to the onslaught of information he’s giving you.

“Do you all eat the same thing?” He sits up a little straighter when you ask.

“No. Sarah never hurt anyone, ever. I made sure of it. Tommy doesn’t hurt anyone either.”

But Joel does.

“How am I supposed to forgive you, Joel?” The cold professional tone you’ve been managing to hold up is slipping as you lean closer to him and whisper.

“Please-” He reaches for you again and you continue to move away.

“You killed Darlene.” You’re losing your composure quickly.

“I didn’t.”

“You killed her wife.”

“It was an accident.” He sounds like he’s in pain. Like the mere reminder of his actions is hurting him but you can’t stop.

“How many accidents have you had?”

With that he goes silent and you can’t help but assume the worst.

“It was less before you moved here.” He mumbles, the statement makes bile rise in your throat.

“So it’s my fault?” Your voice pitches up causing the waitress who’s headed in your direction to make a sharp turn in the other direction.

“That’s not what I’m saying.” He whispers, clearly trying to calm you down but it isn’t working in the slightest.

“It sure sounds like it is.”

“It used to be only one or two every cycle-”

“Only?” Your eyes are wide at the ruthlessness of the statement. “Is that supposed to make me feel better? That you only killed one or two people? Those people had families, they had lives.”

“You think that doesn’t bother me?” He’s starting to lose his nerve as well the silverware clinking as he slams his hand down on the table.

“Clearly it doesn’t since it was only one or two.” His anger doesn’t scare you anymore. You’ve seen him at his worst, nothing scares you anymore.

“Stop putting words in my mouth.” He begs, voice getting softer as you watch the waitresses staring at you from across the restaurant.

“I’m only repeating what you just said.” You hiss, trying to make your conversation look less confrontational. “What about Tommy? He only eats animals. Why can’t you just do that?.”

“I’m not Tommy.”

“Have you tried?”

“I can’t try anything, I’m not in control.”

“You listened to me, what if I told you to only eat animals?”

“You don’t want to see me eat.” Sure, it’s upsetting but you could learn to live with it. The image of the man he smashed against the tree flashes through your mind and you move on.

“What did you mean when you said you didn’t kill Darlene?”

“I- I couldn’t do it, couldn’t bring myself to hurt her. Tommy did it for me.” In a disturbing sort of way you almost find peace in that fact.

“I thought Tommy didn’t hurt people?” As your conversation quiets the two girls thankfully turn back to their phones.

“Only a few over the course of his life, mostly when he was younger or if a hiker was unfortunate enough to stumble across him when he was already feeding.”

You open your mouth to ask more questions only to realize you don’t have any more. At least not any you can think of in this state.

You thought this would take longer but he’s been open and honest and you don’t know where to go from here. You have your answers. Even if you don’t like them, now you’re in a weird state of limbo.

You stand up, unable to stand how stuffy it is in here, thick with his scent as you walk towards the door. He hurries after you, throwing a tip down on the table despite the two of you never ordering.

It’s cold but easier to breathe outside, he can’t fill the entire world with his smell and the breeze helps you think clearer as you stare at him hopelessly.

“So what do we do?” You finally ask, unable to avoid the inevitable.

“I’ll do whatever you decide, whatever you want.”

That’s the problem. You don’t know what you want, nothing makes sense and you hate him for what he’s done but as much as it bothers you you don’t want to lose him.

“I could leave, move back to the city.” You offer up, unsure of any other possible options.

“If your goal is to keep people from dying, that's the last thing you want to do.” There’s a beat as you glare at him, waiting for some sort of elaboration. “I’ll find you. Even if I don’t want to, the minute I lose control I will come after you and I seriously doubt that you want me running around a heavily populated area like that.”

Great.

“So I’ll stay and we’ll break up.”

“You really believe you’ll be able to stay away if I’m just down the street? You think I’ll be able to control myself when the time comes again? Now that I know your- your taste? I won’t stay away.”

“Fine, fine…” Your mind is desperately racing for some sort of conclusion to this nightmare. “Maybe we should invest in some sort of tranquilizer? We could keep you docile when you’re-”

“Tommy and I have already tried that, doesn’t matter. He shot me up with five doses of bear tranquilizer and I didn’t so much as yawn.”

“So I can’t move away, I can’t break up with you, and we can’t calm you down in the slightest. This is perfect Joel, what the fuck am I supposed to do? Let you keep killing people and pretend I don’t see the massacred state of every body that comes across my table?” A few stray tears start falling as you hastily wipe them away with your sleeve.

“You could kill me.” He mumbles as you scoff.

“Be serious.” You shoot him a glare but his expression doesn’t change.

“I am.”

“I’m not doing that.”

“Why not? No one else gets hurt, and you’re free to go.” He can’t seriously be suggesting this.

“What about Ellie?”

“I’ll talk to Tommy, he can take her.”

“Don’t.” You stand up straighter. trying to look stern as you scowl at him, unfortunately it ends up feeling more like a pout.

“What?” He looks tired too. Does being away from you cause him the same distress that you feel?

“Don’t talk about this like I’d ever seriously consider such a thing.”

“There aren’t any other options. You don’t want to be with me, what else are we supposed to do?”

“What about this last week? When I stayed with you you didn’t hurt anybody.” He fed on you, that much is clear now.

“You really want to do that every month for the rest of our lives? That lust filled state for five days straight with no end in sight? You barely survived one week of it.” He’s got a point but what are your other options?

“I was fine.”

“You barely ate, you were dehydrated.” He steps towards you but you don’t flinch this time.

“What if we just lock you up? With iron chains or something.” Your voice is dripping with despair now, there’s barely any fire left behind your words.

“If I don’t eat something I die.”

“There has to be another option.”

“You don’t want us to be together and we can’t be apart. I just don’t see any other ways for this to work.” He sighs, rubbing his temples as he stares at the pavement.

“I never said I didn’t want to be together.” You whisper and he immediately looks back up at you.

“Do you?”

You do.

“I don’t know.” You’re on the verge of tears again as you stare at him. Joel. Your Joel. Made for you and waiting for your decision Joel. Joel who was honest with you, so you should be honest with him. “Everything hurts without you and it hurts with you and I want to forgive you. I really believe that someday I could but not if you keep killing.”

He stares at you, never looking away, pity in his eyes.

“I love you.” He murmurs. It’s the last thing you need to hear right now.

“Don’t say that.”

“I do. And I know that that means less because I am genetically predisposed to unconditionally loving someone, and I’m sorry that it’s you.”

“Stop it. We barely even know each other. We’ve been dating for a few months.” You’re going to lose it completely if he doesn’t stop, your mind feels so fragile, if he isn’t careful you’ll shatter completely.

“I know that. And I love you.”

“Don’t do this.” You’re begging now but he refuses to let up.

“I’m sorry that you have to be loved by me.”

“Joel. Stop it.”

“And we both know why you won’t kill me.”

“I don’t need a reason to not want someone dead.” You wipe the endless stream of tears that now flow.

“Just say it, it’s easier to just say it.” He looks so soft right now. So harmless as he speaks with that low drawl.

“It’s not true.” You whisper, willing it not to be.

“You love me.” He says it like it’s some universal truth, it makes you want to slap him.

“I don’t, I’ve only known you a few months, and you’re a terrible boyfriend.”

“I could be a good boyfriend. If you let me. Let me try, let me earn your forgiveness, please.” He looks as upset as you feel now. His eyes, big and sad.

“You killed people. You’re going to keep killing people.” If you don’t remind yourself of that you’ll forget. Being near him will make you forget.

“Do you think that’s the life that I wanted for myself?” His voice cracks and when you don't respond he just keeps going. “I didn’t want someone to be forced to want me, I didn’t want to turn into a fucking monster once a month, and I never wanted anyone to get hurt!”

You both stare at each other for a beat of silence before you burst into sobs. It’s too much. Every single thing right now is just too much. What are you supposed to do now as you stare at him? A man who loves you, willing to do anything he can to make you happy, even if it means dying.

“Joel.” Your lip quivers as you stare at him, a suffocating despair clouding over both of you as he steps forward, his gaze softening as he pulls you into his arms.

“We’ll figure it out, bunny. I promise, we’ll be okay.”

It certainly doesn’t feel that way.

He takes your face in his hands, staring at you with an intensity you’ve grown accustomed to.

“Let me make this right. Please, bunny, just let me fix this for you.” He whispers, kissing your forehead.

You’re so tired.

You just don’t want anyone else to get hurt, Joel included.

You’re tired of being afraid. You’re tired of being confused. You’re tired of feeling like you’re crazy.

You've been tired since you moved here.

So you nod.

“Let me love you.” He mumbles as he wraps his arms around you again, both of you reflexively inhaling the scent of the other.

“Okay.”

want to know what monster joel looks like? you can find out here because there is now wonderful art of him -> monster!joel art

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