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#cw trapped animal
toxicanonymity · 1 year
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The cold, cold night. Left in Lincoln, part 3
6.9k | dark!dad's best friend!Joel x virgin f!Reader
story master list / joel miller master list
You slid under the quilt face-down, half on top of him, not waiting for him to make room. You kissed his cheek and he smiled with his eyes. His hair was messier, and you liked it that way, but when you touched it he bristled, then raked his hand through to straighten it. "I love it," you said. He sighed with a twinkle in his eye. "Well, if she loves it."
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WARNINGS: I8+ mdni, slow-burn horror w/ disturbing (implicit) content, big girthy age gap, "plot," angst, pining, toxic fluff, gaslighting, manipulation, pressure, fingering, oral F receiving, unsettling P in V sex dream, use of pet names and praise, trapped animal. Very TOXIC, dark Joel (psychological dead dove do not eat). Too long but didn't feel I could break it up. Smut may have edging properties sry just wrote what felt natural.
You tucked yourself into bed and admired the special apple blossom from Joel's orchard. You slowly rolled the little stem between your fingers, feeling guilty for making Joel walk home alone. He was so patient with you. So understanding. All he wanted was to be close to you. You hoped he wouldn’t get the wrong idea. You wanted to be close to him, too. You weren’t sure what was holding you back.
You put the flower on your nightstand and stared at the spot on your ceiling, trying to feel Joel’s arms around you. Soon, you were thinking about his stiff cock against you, between your legs. You ran your hands down your sides and thought about his hands guiding you up and down. You could hear the echo of him talking you through your orgasm. You touched yourself but didn’t get there. You wondered if he could teach you. But more than anything, you wanted to feel him against you, then inside you. Maybe you could have, if you hadn’t sent him home. You drifted off feeling guilty and regretful.
-
You dreamed of Joel. You were back on top of him, straddling him with your arms around his neck. You moved yourself up and down, gliding slickly and firmly against his shaft, doing it all on your own this time. You were grinding against his hard cock, his hands resting on your back. But something felt off. His face was clean-shaven and vacant. Void not only of enjoyment, but of recognition. He was in a trance, looking through you. He didn't speak at all.
You dragged yourself up his shaft one more time, and his cock stayed upright as you claimed the head. His eyes watered, but he remained perfectly still. You sank down on him, sliding easily into his lap. It didn't hurt. You felt nothing but full of him, filled to the brim, and it felt so right. He didn't blink. You pushed yourself up and started riding him. He finally looked at you, just as a clatter shook you awake in real life.
Your heart pounded in your ears. You got up and went straight to the window. Finally, the stillness in the air was gone, replaced by a howling wind. The clatter was most likely nothing sinister. Anything could have been bowled over by the wind. Regardless, you looked forward to putting your mind at ease the next day by looking at the surveillance footage with Abe. You left the curtain open a little to avoid pitch black darkness.
You needed to sleep. This was becoming unsustainable. You couldn’t have every noise jolting you awake, making you look over your shoulder. This fierce independence, it was a valiant effort. Bill would be proud, but you were tired of torturing yourself. You considered asking Joel to stay over in the future. You told yourself next time, you'd at least let him tuck you in. But something still held you back. You could feel it, even as you told yourself you should do it.
-
You slowly blinked awake when light poured in between your curtains. The apple blossom on your nightstand was wilted and discolored, the edges dark, but you couldn’t bear to throw it away. You wished you had put it in water. It was the most special flower in the world and you just let it shrivel. If you let Joel tuck you in, he would've taken good care of it.
By the time you got dressed, It was almost afternoon. The wind brought with it a cold front. You put on jeans, a flannel shirt, boots, and a jacket to do some chores and groundskeeping. You stayed close to the house so you wouldn’t miss Abe when he came. You tended the garden, evaluating what you could harvest before protecting it from the cold. The cold brought other challenges, too. You were nervous about using the heater for the first time on your own.
You looked up at your bedroom window, curious how much someone could see from outside if you were to open your curtains all the way. As you were looking, you heard a similar sound to the rustling you heard at night. With a slight echo, yet somehow quieter. You tried to sense where the noise was coming from and spotted a vent on the back of the house, close to the ground.
You stood up and brushed the dirt off your knees as you slowly walked toward the house. The closer you got, the louder the sound. You crouched down and looked at the vent. The noise subsided. You laid down on your belly and inspected the metal, trying to look through the slits, but you couldn’t see anything. You would have to get a screwdriver if you really wanted to look.
You got back up on your knees and sat there listening for a minute, fingering the cool, metal flaps of the vent. You planted one foot on the ground to stand up, then the vent shook violently with an echoing crash. Your heart jumped and you instinctively hit back at the vent. The loud metal bang from your hand further startled you. Your heart raced. When you looked at the ground, there was a small, black feather. You went to the basement to get a screwdriver, but the door was locked. You darted inside but couldn’t find the key.
There had to be another screwdriver somewhere. Knowing Bill, the house was probably full of them, but you knew of one other place for sure. Since the noise had been tormenting you, the task felt urgent. So you went to the place you were sure of - a small, wooden storage shed next to the meat curing one. The shed was about the size of a small bedroom and there was something about it you didn’t like. Notably, one time you got a face full of spiderwebs.
It’s a vivid memory: You screamed and thrashed, even tore your shirt off over your head. Frank came running outside in a panic. You asked him to hose you down but instead he got you to calm down long enough for him to get all the webbing off. Then he held you still with his hands on your shoulders and told you to breathe. He took a big breath in with you then let it out. He said, “we’re gonna get through this, honey,” and he couldn’t finish the sentence without laughing. Once you could breathe again, you laughed too. All three of you referred to it as The Spider Shed after that.
The Spider Shed still wasn’t a happy place, despite the warm memory. Your palms were sweating as you got closer, and you wiped them on your flannel shirt. The door wasn’t all the way shut. There was a trick to shutting it and it came undone easily. It was on Bill’s list to fix. No spiderwebs in sight today, from the outside at least.
You were only a foot away from the shed when a big gust of wind made the door flap and creak. You took a deep breath, trying to slow your heart rate. Then you grabbed the metal handle and opened the door. Your breath hitched when you saw what looked like a thick cobweb. Once your eyes focused, you could see it was just a net trap. Fortunately, the tool box was right there, so you didn’t have to look around, much less go inside. You opened the box and got a screwdriver and flashlight. You pressed the button on the flashlight and it didn't work. You smacked the bottom and it flickered.
You went back to the vent, but the sound was gone. You unscrewed the corners of the metal plate anyway and carefully took it off. There were more feathers and a couple of sunflower seeds, but no sign of the bird. You weren’t sure what the vent was for, or how long you could leave the cover off, but you left it open while you finished the garden work, keeping an eye on any critters to make sure they wouldn’t meet the same fate. You were relieved to know the source of the sound.
You decided to make a little snack for you and Abe. Having company was so rare, and you wanted to show your appreciation. You sliced up some vegetables and homemade bread. You got out two glasses for drinks. It was too early for wine in your understanding.
You looked in the cooler and you were out of apple juice but there was still some cider left. The fact that it was from Joel made you want to taste it, but you weren’t clear on how strong it was. When you unscrewed the lid, it smelled weird which gave you your answer. No thank you. Maybe if Joel was there - you couldn't imagine you would have tried the whiskey without him.
Thinking about the apples made you feel warm and fuzzy for Joel. Thinking about the whiskey made you yearn for his touch. You badly wanted to go over there and make apple juice together, but you didn't want to miss Abe when he came by, so you stayed home. But as the day went on, there was still no sign of Abe. Even as it became late enough for wine.
-
You finally thought to turn on your radio. You turned it to Abe's station, and Call Me by Blondie was playing. It was on one of your favorite tapes. Frank always called it the gigolo song, which made you laugh. But your warm memory was soon overtaken by dread when you remembered the radio code. Eighties meant trouble. Someone might have breached the perimeter. You weren't sure which would be worse - Infected or people. Bill always said desperate people were more dangerous than anything, but Infected terrified you.
Next on the radio, the same song played again. Unsure if you forgot how long the song was, you brushed it off. But when it began to play a third time, your stomach turned. You opened the tape deck to make sure it was in fact the radio playing. The tape deck was empty. It was the radio, and there was no telling how many times the song had played before you turned it on. Twenty seconds into the fourth time you heard it, the music slowed down. Low and distorted, “Color me youuurr colloorrrrrr baaaaabyyyyy,” and your arms erupted in goosebumps. Then it abruptly cut off and there was silence. Just static. The hair on the back of your neck stood up.
You adjusted the antenna. Nothing. You checked the Boston QZ station to make sure there wasn't something wrong with your radio. You heard The Doors loud and clear. Then you put it back to Abe's channel and left it there. As haunting as the static was, it was your only way to find out what was going on - Unless you wanted to go out in the cold, dark night.
You wished Joel was with you. He would protect you. If Joel knew of any trouble, he would have come over immediately to make sure you were okay. So either he didn't know, or he couldn’t come. Your chest ached at the thought that something bad might have happened to him. You prayed he was okay.
-
You were tempted to walk to Joel’s house, but you tried to channel Bill. Bill’s voice in your head said you were already in the safest place possible, and you should stay put and arm yourself. The guns were in the basement, which was locked from both doors, inside and outside. You tried picking the outside lock first since the sun was going down. The air was chilly and your fingers were getting numb. You didn’t have any luck, but you remembered to put the vent back on. While you were on your knees doing it, you noticed a rock near the basement door. The key was underneath.
Once you got the door open, the basement was completely dark. None of the surveillance computers were on. Your heart went to your throat. Even though you hadn't checked the monitors, knowing they were there had given you comfort. You were convinced that the noises were harmless, but you were looking forward to seeing proof when Abe came by.
You turned on the light and looked at the wall of firearms. You got two guns, a long one and a short one, and brought the basement key with you.
-
You stayed inside listening to the dead leaves rustling loudly in the wind over the quiet static of the radio. And then finally, music. Cream, Sunshine of Your Love. You finally exhaled. Whatever trouble there was had been resolved, according to the radio code. And yet, it didn't resolve your nerves. You couldn't get the haunting, twisted version of Call Me out of your head. It drowned out the song you liked.
You got hungry and realized you hadn’t eaten. For a late dinner, you ate the snack you made for you and Abe. You hadn't seen any sign of trouble yet. You considered going to the basement and trying to fix all the surveillance, but the worst case scenario would be if a dangerous stranger ended up in there with you with a wall full of guns. So you kept it locked and stayed on the sofa, thinking about Joel. Worrying about Joel. Wishing Joel was there, until you calmed down enough to get sleepy.
You must have dozed off, because the sound of a vehicle jolted you awake. When you registered what sounded like Abe’s truck, you somewhat relaxed in relief, but by the time you reached the window, you couldn’t see it. At least he was okay. You went upstairs to bed and took the pistol with you. Tomorrow, in the daylight, you would walk to Joel’s house and find out what happened.
You were afraid of the dark that night and left your curtain cracked open despite the cold. You put the pistol on your nightstand and laid in your bed. Within minutes, the sounds started again. The flapping. The rustling. You let it fade into the background and focused on the sounds of the wind. The sound of dead leaves dancing around outside got louder and a chill fell over you. You got an extra quilt out from under your bed and bundled up, but it wasn’t just the weather. It was also the coldness of being without Joel. It was so cozy having his arms around you, you could hardly fathom how warm you’d be with him inside you. Your loins heated up at the thought of it.
-
You fell asleep, and it didn’t feel like you were asleep for long before you suddenly awoke. Your eyes adjusted to find a dark silhouette in the corner of your room. You nearly choked on your gasp, then sat up and grabbed the gun. You tried to steady your hands, hoping your eyes were deceiving you. You didn't aim it yet, hoping it was a shadow from outside.
"It's me, peaches." Joel cautiously stepped into the moonlight. He had his hands in a low surrender position, but was surprisingly calm. "You okay?” He looked at you concerned. “Can ya put that down for me?"
Your hand shook as you put the pistol back on your nightstand.
"Joel?”
"It's okay, baby. You're safe."
“What is going on?" Your heart raced, but you were glad Joel was there.
"Heard a car. Woke me up. Looked outside, saw someone walkin' over here." He stepped closer and put his hands down.
A pit formed in your stomach. He sat down on your bed and stroked the arm of your flannel pajamas.
"Came to check on ya.” He hesitated. “Don’t wanna scare ya, but your back door was open, darlin',” he said regretfully.
Your eyes hurt and all the skin on your head tightened. No wonder it got so chilly. You hoped he wouldn't notice what became of the apple blossom.
"Cleared the house. Had to see you were okay." You imagined him checking on you then being unable to pull himself away, so protective that he needed to quietly watch you all night.
"Thank you," you whispered, then told him, "The surveillance is down. Abe never came."
"Yeah," Joel whispered. "I dunno what’s goin’ on, but I can't leave you here alone, okay?"
You nodded. He took off his jacket, and you scooted over to make room for him, but he didn’t settle in. The rustling noise returned. Joel listened to it and studied your face. You didn't react, except to say “I think it’s a bird.”
“Hmm," he nodded thoughtfully. "Prolly so then, darlin’.” He squeezed your knee. He sat with you for a moment in silence, rubbing your arm comfortingly. “Goin’ downstairs, okay?" His voice was soft and reassuring. "So I can stop any trouble.”
“Don’t leave me,” you whispered.
He looked at you affectionately and his hand cupped your face.
"Please stay," you begged.
He looked conflicted. “Okay, baby. Just 'til you fall asleep.” He brought his feet up on the bed - his boots were already off. He settled in next to you. He stayed on top of the bedding but got under the top quilt when you offered it. He leaned on his side and put one forearm above your head on your pillow, draping his other arm over you. He smelled like clean laundry, and his hair was a little damp. “You okay?” he said in a smooth, near-whisper. “Bet that was scary.” He was so close to your ear, you could feel the wind and vibration of his voice and it gave you a chill of arousal.
“I’m okay now, yeah.”
"Soon as you fall asleep, I'm goin' down, k?" Joel’s head came closer to yours and you could smell notes of whiskey under his aftershave. He looked at you with concern. “I’ll be right downstairs.”
“Yeah.”
He pressed his lips to your forehead, then you looked at each other for a moment, and you lifted your head slightly off the pillow.
“Shhh,” he said, brow furled, and slid his hand under your head. You let your head down into his hand and watched his face soften. "You're safe, baby. I'm here."
His eyes closed as he put his forehead against yours. His nose brushed yours, then his lips pressed into yours and you pressed back. It sent a warm rush through your body, and you wanted more. He broke the kiss to look at you and his thumb brushed your temple. He kissed you again, tenderly on the top lip, then on the bottom, then pressed his lips into both of yours at an angle. His lips lingered there and parted, gently pulling at your mouth, not breaching it. He pulled away then planted one last, delicate kiss. “Night, peaches.”
He rested his head on the flannel of his bicep. You closed your eyes, but it took time to fall asleep. You slowed your breathing, and when you were almost asleep, Joel carefully got off the bed.
-
When you woke up, the house was warmer. Joel must have turned the heat on for you. You went downstairs and he was on the sofa. The poor guy stayed up all night keeping you safe. You sat on the edge of the couch and he stretched with a groan.
"Mornin', peaches." He set his hand on your lap.
In the light, you could see your flannel pants and button-up were similar to his shirt.
"Mornin'." You planned to ask him all about the night before, but once he was in front of you, you just wanted to be close to him. You could always ask him later over breakfast.
You slid under the quilt and laid face-down, half on top of him, not waiting for him to make room. You kissed his cheek and he smiled with his eyes. His hair was messier, and you liked it that way, but when you touched it he bristled, then raked his hand through to straighten it.
"I love it," you said.
He sighed with a twinkle in his eye, "well if she loves it," and stopped messing with it.
You smiled at him. He looked at you and his eyes darkened warmly. Then you felt a shape harden in his jeans and his hips lifted slightly. He hummed “Mmm,” as he looked at your mouth and brushed your elbow with his thumb.
"C'mere, gorgeous," he whispered and gave you a kiss, sending a rush through your body. He pulled back to look at you and he looked so tired. Your heart swelled at the thought of him staying up all night to protect you. Your desire swelled at the feeling of his arousal against you.
"You must be tired. Come take a nap with me," you urged. "It's warmer upstairs."
-
You got back on your bed and Joel stood at the foot of it, scanning your room. It was his first time there in the daylight. You could faintly see the thick silhouette of his dick in his jeans and you couldn’t take your eyes off it as he took off his jacket. He watched you watch him and his eyes darkened more. The mattress groaned under the weight of his knees. As he stretched out next to you, he sighed as if his bones ached, then laid his massive hand on your waist.
He looked from your eyes to your mouth and back then murmured lowly, "Nap really all you want?"
Your face burned as he watched your eyes expectantly. "Just wanna be with you," you answered quietly.
His deep voice became nearly a whisper. "Love hearin' that, baby."
He got closer with a sigh then pulled you up against him. With both of you on your sides, he tenderly pressed his lips into yours, then the kiss heated up. His hand traveled down from your waist, over your ass, to your hamstring, and you found your knee hooking over his hip, bringing your loins closer. He sucked your soft lips, then parted them with his tongue and sucked your mouth.
For several minutes, you held him tight with his arms over yours and your faces joined together. You felt so much better in his arms, under his hands, between his lips. You felt safe and cared for. He softly moaned as he kissed you and his arousal swelled against you. He slipped his hand under your flannel top and lightly brushed your lower back which was beading with tiny droplets of sweat.
“You warm?” he whispered. His cheeks were pink and his lips were flushed.
“Yeah,” you answered.
Joel backed up enough to access your clothes. He slowly unbuttoned your top, planting a kiss on your mouth between each button, the hungry look in his eyes not matching his slow and patient pace. Then, with all the buttons unfastened, he gently hung the side you weren't lying on behind your back and the collar fell off your shoulder but the sleeve stayed on. He inhaled sharply at the sight of your breasts.
“My lands,” he murmured, hypnotized by your body. Then he looked back up to your eyes and said, “You’re so pretty I can hardly take it, darlin’.”
He pulled you tight against him and kissed you hard, inhaling deeply through his nose. Then he rolled toward you and his chest against yours turned you on your back. As he kissed you, he worked one of his knees between your thighs and you opened them. He kneeled between your legs and lowered his hips, pressing his jeans against your flannel clad crotch. You sighed at the swell of his hardness and he moaned “Mmm,” then tore his lips away from yours.
He kissed your cheek, then your chin, and your neck, where he paused to suck and lick. He made his way down to your shoulder, where he nudged your pajama top the rest of the way off. You took your arms out of the sleeves obediently, leaving the sleep shirt lying under you. He kissed between your breasts where there was a fine dew of humidity, and looked up at you as he dragged his lips down to your belly button, where he stopped to plant a long, open mouth kiss. His fingers hooked into your flannel waistband. You squirmed uncomfortably, which he expected.
“Baby, you’re perfect. I’ve seen you," he said. "So perfect. . . Like a beautiful blossom.” He pleaded softly with desperate eyes, "just trust me."
“Okay,” you whispered.
-
He slowly lowered your waistband, and you lifted your hips for him to take it under your butt. As soon as your hair was exposed, he laid his cheek down on it and hugged you with his hands against your ass cheeks, fingers pressing hungrily into your flesh, breathing deeply. He gently kissed the crease where your thigh met your pelvis, then lightly dragged his tongue along the other crease. He buried his mouth in your mound, inhaling and moaning softly. Then he dragged his lips down and his mouth engulfed your clit, gently prodding it with his tongue. It felt so good, but you still couldn’t quite relax. You were too self-conscious.
"You don't have to do that," you told him.
His voice was quiet and low. “Course I don’t, darlin’, if you don’t want me to.” He looked up at you from between your legs with big, sad eyes. “Doesn’t feel good?” He caressed one of your creases with his thumb. "Is it my beard? Shoulda shaved."
"No, it's fine," you said. He was so careful, his facial hair didn't bother you, and after your eerie dream, you didn't want to see him unshaven.
He hooked his thick digits into your waistband again, now midway down your thigh, and finished taking the pants off you. He sat between your naked legs fully clothed and rolled up his sleeves, forearms flexing. You were still tense. “It’s okay, baby. You can tell me what you want.”
His soothing voice made it spill right out of your mouth. What you'd been craving so bad. What you couldn't stop thinking about.
“I want you inside me.” Your face burned as soon as you said it. You looked down, unable to suck the words back into your mouth. Then you hesitantly looked back up at him.
His eyes were wide and his face relaxed in wonder, but he was quiet for a moment. Still and quiet.
“Baby, I’d like nothin’ more,” he murmured. And yet he was saying no, you could tell. Your tear ducts felt weak. “You’re not ready yet, peaches. We'll get there, I promise.” He acted like the two of you had all the time in the world.
"What do you mean I'm not ready?"
He twisted onto his side. "Well, you're still shy with me, darlin'. Haven't even touched it yet." He firmly cupped the hard shape in his jeans. "Gotta make sure you really want it." He wet his lips. His breaths grew heavier and his forearm flexed as he slowly rubbed himself a few times, watching your disappointment.
"Puttin' our bodies together like that. . .It's somethin' real special."
He rolled back onto his stomach and returned his head to hover between your legs but kept his eyes on your face. "Means givin' each other everything. And you gotta be sure, ‘cause you can't get it back." He rested his cheek on your inner thigh, caressing your outer thigh with his calloused hand. "If ya don't want me down here, you're not ready for it, peaches. You're not givin' me everything."
You were dejected and confused. Surely he had given himself to someone before, but he made it sound like it was his first time, too.
"Haven't you already. . . given yourself?"
"No, darlin'.” He shook his head. “Not even close. This is different."
"'Cause I've never done it?" Your eyes felt weaker and weaker.
"No. Different 'cause I love you, peaches."
Your waterline was overtaken by a tear, but not the one you expected. Joel pried his head away from your crotch and moved upward on your body to hover over you, resting his forearms to the sides of your torso.
He rested his chest and stomach on you, but not all his weight.
"Hey, it’s okay. I told you we'll get there."
"I'm not - I just - hearing you say that."
"That I love you?" He kissed a tear off your cheek.
You swallowed thickly. "Yeah."
“I think ya knew that, darlin’.” He planted a chaste kiss on your lips, then your cheek, swallowing another tear.
You wanted to say it back, but you didn’t want him to think you were just saying it because he said it.
"I don't know anything," you said. “I’m sorry.” You swallowed your shame, not meeting his eyes.
He looked concerned. “For what?”
“Not knowing how to love you.”
He allowed a moment of silence, reading your eyes, then said, "You’re doin’ perfect.” He kissed you again. "Just take your time, baby. And let me love you."
He lifted himself up, reached down between your legs, and dragged his thick middle finger through your slick. Then he slowly stroked you with two fingers and gently nestled your clit between them.
“Okay?” he asked.
“Yeah,” you whispered. Opening your legs to him felt like the least you could do.
“Good girl.”
-
He paused on his way back down your body. He cupped a breast. His eyes took you in as he gently manipulated your flesh then planted a kiss just below the nipple. He did the same with your other breast.
His mouth returned between your legs, planting a kiss on your clit while holding eye contact. "Feel good?"
Your eyes closed and you took a deep breath. You were still tense.
"Talk to me, baby. What feels good? You want my hand?"
He reached down to your ankle and used three fingers to languidly trace a line all the way up to your knee, then down your thigh. He gave your thigh a slow squeeze, then brought his fingers between your legs. He slid the side of his index finger along your dripping seam, then began to caress your entrance without breaching it. He inhaled deeply, then gathered your wetness with several fingers and circled your clit gently. "You want this?"
You couldn't make words.
When you didn't answer right way, he took his hand away and silently sucked his fingers, closing his eyes in pleasure. He looked to you again for an answer, but didn’t press you for one.
He brought head down again. “Or you want it like this,” he murmured. He french kissed the spot between your clit and entrance, and you sighed. That was what you wanted. He perked up at the sound of your sigh and looked up at you with his mouth still occupied. He was determined to learn how to please you.
“Feels really good, but you don't have to do that,” you repeated.
He lifted his head and frowned. "Why wouldn't I wanna make you feel good?"
"Isn't it kinda gross?"
"Baby. Nothin' gross about havin' my face in the most special place in the world."
"Really?"
"Nowhere I'd rather be, peaches."
"You're just saying that."
"Feels good for me, too. Real good. It's s'posed to."
"You don't mind?"
"I love it. Turns me on. It’s s’posed to, darlin’, and it does. You got nothin’ to be shy about."
"Doesn’t taste bad?”
“Baby, you’re my favorite taste in the world.” He buried his nose in your clit and fingered the curls on your mound.
“You're not just doing it to make me feel good?"
He paused, then softly answered, “No. But even if I was. Long as you felt good, I’d love it.” He reached to massage your breast with one hand “But it turns me on a whole lot, you'll see.”
He pulled his head back, the bottom of his face shiny and pink, then got up on his knees, his eyes locked with yours.
-
He wasn’t wearing a belt. Your breath hitched as he unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans so quickly in contrast to how slow he was doing everything else. He left the back of his flannel shirt tucked in as he took his stiff member out of his boxers. He held it in his hand only for a moment with his shirt out of the way so you could see. You had seen it before, but seeing it again, he sure was big. For a second you even felt foolish for wanting him inside you when he wouldn't fit. Still, a mere glimpse of it made you tingle wildly.
With how wet you were getting, you'd be even more embarrassed for him to put his head back down there. Unless it really was his favorite taste in the world.
He didn’t stroke himself, simply set his length outside his jeans, forming a tent under his flannel. “Lemme really taste you, baby, then you'll see.” He got back down on his elbows.
“Okay,” you said. By then, you were dying for his touch.
He put your legs over his shoulders and rested his hands on top of your thighs. He kissed your inner thigh again with his mouth closed, then planted a wetter kiss on the other one. He kissed his way closer and closer, dipping his tongue, pressing the flats of his teeth against your soft flesh. By the time he got there, you were dying for his mouth, no longer worried about what you tasted like.
First, he buried his nose in your little curls again, this time more desperately. He made his way down to your clit where the touch of his nose made you twitch and moan. He looked up at you from under the shadow of his brow and his eyes sparkled. He inhaled deeply through his nose, closed his eyes, then sighed from the bottom of his throat.
He pressed his mouth against your clit, then opened his lips. His tongue extended then lapped upward and dragged down. He did it a few more times and hummed “Mmm.” His brows tensed and his eyes wrinkled as he tasted you. His hands slid to your ass. He sucked and lapped with dedication, and it was unlike any feeling you could have imagined. It made you want to be filled so bad. Almost as soon as you thought it, he plunged his tongue into your tight, wet hole, pushing a moan out of you. He thrust it into you rhythmically, and his fingers dug into your flesh.
He came up for air and said, “Swear you got the sweetest nectar, baby. Can’t get enough.”
You believed him from the look on his face. Then he came to his knees again. He dragged a finger through your slick and held it up to your mouth. You wrapped your lips around his thick digits and it wasn't bad.
"Good girl."
He took his cock in his hand. It was even stiffer, more commanding than just moments before. It really did turn him on. The veins bulged. The tip throbbed angrier and weeped with precum. You were desperate for it. Salivating.
He murmured, “Believe me now?” as he brought his cock to your warmth. Your breath hitched and your whole core throbbed desperately. He dragged the head through your slick just enough to get himself wet. Your body tried to suck him in, but he wouldn't allow it. He sat back on his knees and stroked himself slowly. He was looking hungrily between your legs, then up at your face. He raised his eyebrows pleadingly for permission. He wanted more.
“I believe you.” you said. Your clit twitched.
-
His chest rose and fell with your go-ahead to continue. He didn’t hold back at all. He was ravenous, burying his nose and mouth between your legs, his tongue matting your hair as he licked and lapped and sucked.
One expansive hand held your hips down as the other occasionally stroked his cock. And then he held you with both hands, abandoning his own pleasure. You watched him, so handsome, hair falling out of place from where he haphazardly fixed it earlier. It's so sexy when he lets it go, like you’re the only thing in the world at that moment.
“Can you take your pants off?” You asked and he did it in a flash without a word, never taking his head away for more than a second. He kicked them onto the floor. It was so hot seeing him be messy. With both hands back on your body, his hips began to slowly grind into your mattress, a sight that made you even weaker as he devoured your beautiful blossom.
He traced your petals with long licks, gently dragging his lips, then sucked your clit, teasing it gently. He fucked you with his strong, slippery tongue again and you moaned at the feeling of being filled by anything. He sucked and swallowed as much as he could get, moaning, sighing. Your hips briefly lifted, and your body tensed as you felt yourself about to come. Joel felt it too. He groaned into your body, and the vibration of his deep voice made you weak.
He tried to meet your eyes, but you could barely keep them open. He wanted to talk you through it again, but didn't want to take his mouth away. You could tell. He was saying it with his eyes. That's it, baby, you're almost there. Stay with me. Come on, baby.
His hands found yours, interlacing your fingers. You held on tight. Then your hips rolled into his face and he moaned into your clit as you pinched your eyes shut and arched your back, letting pleasure seize you completely. His mouth went slack and rested against your convulsing warmth. He watched, captivated as you squeezed his hands and came.
"Good girl. Gorgeous." He squeezed your still-trembling thigh and got out from between your legs.
-
As you caught your breath, he came up next to you on the bed with a shiny face and held his aching member in his hand.
“I wanna touch it,” you said. “Can you show me how?”
“Get your hand wet for me,” he said softly between heavy breaths with a nod downward. You gathered your slick and reached your hand hesitantly toward him. “All yours, baby.” His chest rose and fell as he held it for you.
“Go ‘head,” he encouraged, giving you confidence. You wrapped your hand around his cock. It was so smooth and warm. You didn’t know what to do next. You froze.
“It’s okay, darlin’. Let’s do it like this.” His hand engulfed yours and moved it gently as he lifted his hips and fucked himself with your fist at a moderate pace.
“Love your hand, baby,” he managed between grunts. He was sweating with his flannel shirt still on. You marveled at the way the smooth skin of his shaft moved along the stiffness. You memorized the texture of it and the sound of him grunting.
It wasn’t long at all until agony spread across his face, then he groaned. He took his hand away and watched your face as his cock pulsed against your palm and his cum spilled into your fist. He sighed long and low.
"Good, darlin'. Real good." He pressed a kiss into your mouth then looked at his cum all over your hand. "Sit tight for me." He tucked himself away and went to the bathroom.
Meanwhile, you sniffed it. You got curious what it tasted like. You dipped the tip of your tongue into it just as he was returning with a warm washcloth and neater hair. His eyes widened when he saw you taste his cum.
He watched your face for a moment, then skeptically asked, "Like it?"
"Yeah," you nodded shyly. "'cause it's yours."
His face melted. "See, darlin'? You love me just fine."
-
As he gently nudged your legs back open with the washcloth, you asked “could you teach me how to touch myself better?”
He paused. “Better? You touch yourself now?”
“Yeah," you said hesitantly.
"That's natural, darlin'. Nothin' to be ashamed of. Just surprised, that's all."
"But I can't make myself, you know.” He paused what he was doing, and you regretted bringing it up.
“What're ya thinkin’ about?” He furrowed his brow and his face tensed as he slowly finished wiping your inner thighs.
When he was finished, you pulled your pajama pants back on “You know, what I said I wanted earlier.” You sighed and looked at the ceiling. "From you." You couldn't say it again.
His face softened. “That's good, baby. . . S'posed to turn ya on, thinkin' about that."
"But I don't come."
"I’ll make ya come anytime ya want, peaches.” There was a hint of cockiness tugging at one corner of his mouth. He tossed the washcloth to the laundry, then settled in next to you and slid his forearm under your pillow. "Any time." He admired your face affectionately. It still buzzed with heat. He looked you up and down and rested his massive hand low on your stomach.
“Thank you,” you said.
“Don’t thank me.” He pressed his lips to your forehead. "Love doin' it."
“For protecting me.”
“Course I do, peaches. You’re the most precious thing I ever had." He caressed your bare skin.
"Can't leave ya here alone today, baby. Gotta take ya home.”
You nodded.
-
Thank you so much for your engagement 🖤🖤🖤 I love you guys, and love hearing from you.
I have loved reading everyone's reactions! 💕 To let people read "unspoiled," won't be posting ALL theories, but you're still welcome to send them.
Thank you @dark-scape for conceptual beta / reassurance 😅
All Joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy
Lincoln: @fan-fiction-floozy @ivyblxnde @lhymer1995 @sugarspiceanthrax @isimpforfictionalmen @zynbsblogg @swedishscumfuck @sadgirlstoohightocare @steveharringtonswh0re @skythighs @aoziety @leeeesahhh @jupitersmoon-cal @peekymoon @dtfawn @pedrosbabygirl @shotgun-shelby @reader-without-a-story (ct'd in comments or reblogs)
You can also follow @toxicfics and turn on notifs, but it doesn't include all blurbs, HCs, drabbles, etc.
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lycomorpha · 8 months
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This lovely pearlescent friend decided I was not salty enough and contained no nectar, so I put them on a flower instead 🦋🌼
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Edit - yes, this is a box-tree moth. I've posted a few of these friends before, they're so familiar I forgot to mention the name. Ooops! 😂
I'm also aware some people consider them 'invasive' here in Europe. That to me is a bullshit descriptor. This moth was brought here *by us*... By humans indulging their habit of taking species (eg plants and all the bugs that come with) outside their original range, dumping them somewhere new, then whinging about what they do there. Those species are not the ones doing the invading, we are responsible.
This moth mainly appears to be a problem for people who love faffy plastic-looking box tree topiary, or who have unfortunately inherited box hedging. I'm gonna call it a sign from the universe to plant more environmentally useful mixed hedging that feeds a lot more bugs n birds, but doesn't generally get wiped out by them. I'm gonna keep enjoying the occasional presence of this moth, thank you from the Moth Promotional Board, I'll stop ranting now.
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shiftedjaw · 4 months
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Mark Hoffman
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planetbeanie · 10 months
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From the ‘Beanie Baby Handbook’
Fall 1998
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gamebunny-advance · 7 months
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Posting Kliff fumo by itself 'cus it's cute.
You can put him on various things if you want to.
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Full size under the cut.
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Text
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black-rose-irl · 8 months
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Trying to explain to someone that this thing that they do for fun was actually like, really traumatic for you the last time you did it (and is pretty directly responsible for you ending up on antidepressants) and that the mere suggestion to do it again triggers your fight or flight response, is really something.
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triangle-dog · 2 years
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From Trap Safety for Pet Owners a flyer by The Alaska Dept of Fish & Game, Division of Wildlife Conservation and the Alaska Trappers Association. All drawings are by Sarah DeGennaro, copyright ADF&G. Download link in source.
These are just the graphics, there is more information on the traps and guidance in the pamphlet itself.
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aldieb · 2 years
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fuckin hell i’m like 95% certain that z*loft is making my boobs bigger. if i were on it for my mental health in any way shape or form rather than bc i am dependent on it i would be off so fast, this is the nightmare scenario
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lockedtowers · 8 days
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Old habits die screaming (vi @ cassie)
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the lingering, the break, everything always felt like so much. nothing ever calmed, the world just kept breaking more and more for her. every aching second another drag into the deep. was it so wrong to just want something quiet? to want even a moment of calm? peace? love?
she stands from hatter's side, looking towards her sister as she nudges her head towards the window. hatter would heal-- she already healed him, and his wounds now mirrored on her form instead. she’ll definitely heal, much faster than he likely would have on his own. that doesn’t stop the anger. that doesn’t stop her from kicking the suit in the center of his office for hurting him in the first place. that doesn’t stop her from grabbing his arm and dragging him back, ignoring hatter’s rules about the grass to take the dead man outside.
hatter’s wound had missed his vest, and as she healed it, it was now her arm bleeding profusely as she pulled the suit away. kicking him onto the cement outside as she climbed out herself, noting violet following her. deft fingers closed the window after her, opting to clear the stains from his— and her— blood later on. taking care of this was more important.
at the docks down below, she shoves the body into a boat, covering it with one of ratty’s plastic shades and climbing in. she takes violet’s hand and drags her in, too. blue and silver hues glow a light purple as she powers the boat, crossing the frigid waters to the entrance of the forest. noting violet’s seemed discomfort, she only looks her over, head tilting to the strident foliage as she pulls the body from the boat.
her expressionless face continues to search through the forest of wabe, keeping track of her sister the entire time. the beast’s roar in the short distance catches the cat’s attention, and she knows violet’s likely upset at the way she moves towards the angered sounds. pallid hands let go of the corpse as the beast rages near, a hand held up as it closes in, stopping him before he bites either one. beady eyes glance between the two, and he nudges cassandra’s hand. lowering it’s form, she drags the body onto it’s back, and pulls violet up with her as well.
the distance shortens with its quick spurts, dropping the two off at cassandra’s abandoned shack. she tugs the corpse forwards more, glaring down at it as she tears off his clothes; vinegar poured on the body as a cleanser. ensuring violet’s turned away, she uses her blood form a blade, hacking the corpse up into smaller bites. her magic in full effect to keep his blood from staining the forest floor, floating it into a large lidded tub for future use.
she offers the remains to the beast, who starts devouring it quickly. an unpleasant sight for most, but she’s grown used to the bloodshed in her time.
violet’s words sting, and she steps away from the beast. eyes peer out at the forests expanse, her usual controlled demeanor slipping swiftly as eyes narrow. the beast recognizes her stance; tail twisting to cover the holes he hears from.
let it out.
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the ground shakes at her inhuman scream, lavender light bending from her palms, escaping her lips as she leans forwards. plants rip from their home in the earth, more than one tree torn away from its roots as it collides with the rocks. windless air seems chilled in her presence, hair flowing back like a gust.
voice cracks as she kneels, falling to her knees as her voice stifles. and all was quiet once again.
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tiaet-official · 3 months
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tw gore
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The Execution of the Innocent
Sasha's Speech
"May I have some last words? ... Good. Just know when you kill me, you are taking away the mother of two childen. Two children you want dead. Know that when you kill me, you are ripping the one place they could find acceptance away from them. I hope you feel good about yourself.
... And may the divine forgive you, but I sure as hell won't."
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this is the month of realizations that have been years/decades in the coming.
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dr3c0mix · 11 months
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umm is it possible to get a yandere! male!siren x shy!gn reader?
Fish Bait
Yandere!Siren x GN Reader
CW: Kidnapping, assault, minor stalking, murder, thalassophobia maybe?
🌊 You are quite shy when it came to talking to people. You found the whole 'socializing thing' a bit overwhelming considering how rough and loud the rest of the people in your academy was.
🌊 You much preferred staying by the shore with a nice book or drawing book to enjoy the sound of the waves with. The ocean breeze and wailing of seagulls never failed to relax you.
🌊 One day, you heard the strange sound of splashing by the tide pools along the more rocks area of the shore. You thought it was a fish or some other animal that got stuck in one of the pools after the tide retreated and got up to help it out.
🌊 But what you saw was no animal, well, half animal. In one of the pools was a man with the lower half of a fish, his scales glistened wondrously as it splashed in the water.
🌊 The man looked at you with wide eyes and froze. You put your hands up to show you meant no harm.
🌊 "Please! Spare me! I just want to go home!"
🌊 "Calm down! I won't hurt you!"
🌊 He shook with fear as your hands drew closer to him.
🌊 You then pulled him up from the pool and carried him to the sea, he stares at you as you gently lowered him unto the water.
🌊 As soon as his tail was submerged in the sea, he swam out of your grasp and went a distance away from you, part of his head peeking out of the water as his red eyes looked at yours.
🌊 "Well...safe travels.." You mutter, wading back to shore, but the merman peeks his mouth out the water and shouts to you.
🌊 "You're not going to ask anything in return?"
🌊 You look back. "Uhm..no, I'm fine, thanks anyway.."
🌊 "Hmm, you know...you can come with me to my home. I'll grant you the power to breathe under water and you can enjoy the treasures I have there. What do you say? It's the least I can do for what you've done for me!"
🌊 "Nah, I'm good. Be safe though, I heard theres pirates that hunt merfolk nowadays..." You continue your way to shore but the merman swims quickly to your side.
🌊 "Don't you want to be rid of those insolent fools you call schoolmates? I can give you a life people only dream of!"
🌊 "I'm not really..interested..."
🌊 "...You're not?"
🌊 "Yeah..."
🌊 "...Oh..uh..ok...wow-um..well, bye I guess..." The man stutters before sinking his head back into the water.
🌊 You sigh, that was some encounter. You doubt you'd run into something like that again...
🌊 Boy howdy you were wrong.
🌊 You'd spot the strange boy again and again, always hiding back behind the rock or piece of driftwood he was watching you from.
🌊 Sometimes you'd also find trinkets and beautiful stones laid on the shore. You never took them though; you didn't want to take something someone probably lost. The merman would grumble to himself every time you ignored his baits.
🌊 You'd also see him again trapped in the pools, feigning sorrow that poor little him got stuck again during another low tide. What ever shall he do?
🌊 Your days would go on like this, the merman desperately trying to lure you into the sea but to no avail due to your shy and polite nature.
🌊 Him basically stalking you turned to him directly talking to you and trying to get you to go with him in the water.
🌊 "Oh dear, I've been stuck at this reef for ages! I just can't get out! Could you help me please? I promise not to drown you!"
🌊 "No thanks, I'm on the last chapter of my book..."
🌊 "My, my, it's so lonely in the ocean, not a playmate in sight, come down with me so we can really get to know each other yeah?"
🌊 "I don't really wanna get my clothes wet..."
🌊 What you thought was a potentially dangerous creature of the sea became a whiny, attention-seeking drama queen.
🌊 Eventually, you'd learn his name is Caspian. He gave up a bit on trying to lure you and settled on making small talk with you.
🌊 Most of your conversations would revolve around your cultures, how you two lived compared to eachother.
🌊 "So those silver things with teeth aren't combs? Interesting...tell me more!"
🌊 He more or less looked up to you because of the knowledge you'd tell him, even though it was all basic things ever human knows, but he wasn't a human so, I guess it's alright.
🌊 He'd try to crawl onto shore to see what you were reading or drawing. You'd have to scoot away from him because he was dripping wet, and you didn't want your paper to get soiled.
🌊 Please read to him! He loves it when you read out loud the books you bring!
🌊 Life seemed pretty content with you having a friend to talk to, one who's not judgmental of your quiet personality.
🌊 That was until one day, you heard laughing and shouting from your usual spot.
🌊 You saw your classmates, waist deep in the water trying to drag Caspian to the shore, the merman snarling and biting the air around him angrily as the bullies degrade and laugh at his attempts to wriggle out of their grasp.
🌊 "Look at this, boys! With this ugly thing we can buy the whole pub if we wanted to!"
🌊 "H-hey! Leave him alone!" You shouted, dropping your things as you ran to help your friend, but one of them punched you with in the face and grabbed you, about to hit you again.
🌊 "What? You're gonna let this siren kill everyone that comes to this beach? God you're dumb! No wonder why you have no friends!"
🌊 He was about to give another blow when you both heard a shrill cry from the ocean.
🌊 The water pooled with crimson as only the splashing of limbs can be seen form the shore, cries and gurgles are heard from the writhing gore. Your classmate rushes into the water to save his friends before the violent splashing stops and the red patch of bloody water extends towards him and around him until you see him get yanked below into the water, a splash of a fish tail verified in your mind that it was Caspian.
🌊 You could feel your heart pounding as you see the siren lift its head from the water, his blood red eyes staring at you again with razor sharp teeth bared.
🌊 "P-please...don't hurt me..I didn't lead them to you I swear!" You cried as he crawled to your shivering form.
🌊 You held your breath as he pulled you in a wet hug, your clothes getting stained by the salty, bloody water.
🌊 "Oh my darling~ I know you would never hurt me~ But we're not safe here anymore..I fear I'll have to take you somewhere safer...somewhere away from those disgusting creatures."
🌊 You couldn't even react before you were pulled into the water forcefully, you kicked and swam all you could to get him to let go of you, but soon enough, your whole body was under the water. The only thing that was left of you were your things by the sand, and bubbles that rose to the surface before stopping.
🌊 "You'll be safe here my love, my most wonderful treasure~"
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this one was by far one of my favorite bois ive written, he's so mhmhmghghghmmmhmhmmhhh
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bunnys-kisses · 4 days
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vegetable patch (3)
farmer!captain john price & (brief) hybrid!simon
cw: hybrid au, bunny!reader, farmer!price, pregnant!reader, pregnancy, man-handling, fingering, pwp/smut, full nelson (sex position), oral sex (f receiving), threesome, guard dog!simon, double penetration, older!price, mindbreak, (there's a lot happening),
part one (simon) | part two (simon & johnny)
bunny says: like the fic? leave a comment! really like the fic? suggest your own!
john never thought it would get to this. when he bought the farm and raised his hybrid guard dogs, he never expected to have a bunny around. let along a pregnant one.
but almost six months into your pregnancy, he had grown affectionate of you. sure you were a bit to handle sometimes, but in a way pregnancy, a roof over your head and a fully belly (in both ways) has made you softer. less of a wild animal and more of a pet.
it was cute.
the one thing that didn't change was your insatiable lust. originally price thought that two strong hybrid dogs would take care of your little bunny cunt, but not even those could stop you. let alone the heaviness of your middle.
the boys were out patrolling the yard with you safe in the house. you were curled up on simon's doggy bed with your hands on your belly and your hands situated on your belly with your head propped up on a pillow.
it was cute, john found himself almost enamored by the sight of you as he relaxed on the couch with a beer in his hand. you were just so small, the little bit of chub at your hips only made you seem cuter.
he got up from the couch and left the beer on the table as he walked toward you. he crouched down and rubbed your cheek. you leaned into his touch and whimpered a little. he chuckled and said, "good girl."
your eyes opened a little and you looked up at price, "what time is it?" your little tail did a wiggle under the over-sized shirt that you wore. he chuckled and pulled you close to him.
he fully sat down on the floor and took you into his arms, delicately. his hand grazed your middle, "not even close to lunch, the boy's are still out. it's just you and i."
you dipped your nose into the crook of his neck and you whimpered, "i feel wet."
"yeah, havin' wet dreams about simon, mama?"
"no." you said, "about you." as your hand reaches for his shirt and you held onto it. you buried your face deeper into his neck as he held you on the hardwood floor.
price's eyes went wide for a moment but then slowly got up with you in his arms. it was like holding a sack of potatoes. the most prominent part of you was the puppy was slept soundly in your belly.
"then i guess we must go to bed then. i know you love simon's bed, but my knees and back won't let me fuck you on the floor." his voice was gruff.
you giggled, "be gentle, baby's sleeping."
"of course, bunny." he replied as he brought you upstairs to his bedroom. there was a spare room for guests and an extra room for the three hybrids of his home.
but right now he was taking you to his room where he could fuck that sweet bunny cunt. it hadn't been the first time he had ever done it, but every time it was something else. a wild little hybrid now tamed and under his gentle care, the way he tamed his boys.
the bed was large and soft, he placed you down and started to work on the jeans he wore followed by the flannel of his shirt. he was hairier than simon and johnny, who had tufts here and there to show their hybrid heritage. but price was hairy that was a man was.
you wondered if a human got a hybrid pregnant then what would the baby be. because from the size of price, you were certain to have a heavy newborn. you got off your shirt and sat there naked on the bed, exposed to your farmer.
his large hands touched your belly gently, thumb grazed the stretch marks, "keepin' the little pup nice and safe, huh? bein' a good mama for me?
you nodded, "only the best for you, sir."
he reached down and rubbed your chubby little cheek, "i can see why simon trapped ya." he chuckled, "cute thing like you shouldn't be wandering the woods. that little cottontail will get into too much trouble."
he got onto the bed and man-handled you into his lap, he wanted to feel you as deep as he could. he wanted to know the inside and outside of bunny cunt. but the position he got you into was more of a wrestling move to keep you pinned against him.
you put your knees up to your head and he had your arms pinned back against him. your squirmed a little, you sort of loved the idea of being trapped. john was propped up against the oak headboard with his little pet bunny in his lap with her cunt soon full of his cock.
it was a little hard to do with such a big belly in the way, you had to squish it a little as you were moved to fit his position. you faced the door that led out of the bedroom and with a few misplaced thrusts, you moaned when price sank his cock into you.
"ah, sir!" you whimpered.
he thrusted into you and kept you in the position. it tested you physical limits but john was a strong man and you were a flexible bunny. after all you had to get through his fence somehow. but now you were all nice a plump with child.
price groaned at the idea of you pregnant with his child next. such a sweet little bunny carrying the farmer's seed made his cock throb while buried inside of you. you sweet noises were music to his ears.
"you like that, mama." he groaned, "you like when i fuck you hard?" he kissed the shell of your ear, "simon got lucky to have a taste of you first, because if it were me. if i caught you in my vegetable patch, then you'd never get the taste of my cock out of your mouth."
you kicked your legs out a little bit as he sank into your further, as deep as it would go. you could feel his cock pressed against your womb. your ears twitched and you felt soaked.
"you'd like that wouldn't you. maybe a little bit more time before you go on birth control would do you some good. see if you can take this old man's seed in your pretty, fertile cunt." he grumbled, "bunnies are known for their many babies."
you felt something churn in your stomach as your pregnant belly bounced with every hard thrust. the sex was rough, heat filled the air as you two moved together.
"i like how you look, mama. all swollen with pup. i bet it was so easy for you, took simon's seed so nicely." he purred as he held you tightly, making it slightly uncomfortable.
but you felt on cloud nine, until the bedroom door opened. and on the otherside was none other than your lover, simon. you whimpered and kicked out your legs.
simon was covered in muck, blood across the shirt he wore. he watched you as you were cock drunk and raised an eyebrows, "price." he said, "what are you doin' with my girl."
"she needed a little tlc, simon." he replied, "you know what bunnies are like. they could be having thirteen kits and still beg for another." he looked over your shoulder and asked, "what the hell did you get into."
"had to scare of a coyote." simon replied, "he could smell bunny all the way from the fence. that's how i knew you were fuckin' her."
"then get that shirt off and help me out." john replied as his pace became harder. you saw stars and your mouth hung open for a moment in pure lust.
with his shirt off and dropped to the floor, followed by, his jeans. he was soon on the bed and licking at your sweet cunt as price fucked you. you were trapped between the two men and you felt a dizziness in your mind.
this was somehow more intense than the threesome you had with johnny and simon. simon only let those in his 'pack' have a taste of his pregnant mate, which meant coyotes like graves were off limits. if simon ever saw graves' paws on you.
simon kept your legs open with his strong hands, the tips of his claws left indents in your skin as he lapped at your cunt. his tongue did touch price's cock which made the older man feel hot all over.
you were the loudest out of the three of you, your voice was high pitched and you felt so full. you squirmed against both men but they kept you still as best as they could.
you came once, then twice, the three times from the pleasure from both men. it was sensory overload. your mind went blank by the third orgasm that the men pulled from you. which left simon painfully hard.
"got any room in there, price." simon said as he pulled away from your cunt and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. his cock stood at full attention in his underwear.
"well, she'll need a good stretch if she's havin' your pup." price chuckled, he could feel himself getting closer. you on the other hand were mindlessly moaning without being able to form words.
your pussy was so wet that he slid in next to price with ease. the stretch made you whimper like an animal, but soon you were dropped back into the depths of pleasure as both men used you.
price let go of your arms but caged you with his around your middle. you felt sore, but your brain couldn't register much. your mouth hung open and drooled a little. your brain felt like it was broken in half.
"i know you can't smell it, price." simon said, "but bred bunny smells the best." his hands were on your belly and soon were price's. simon felt superior for having seeded you first.
sure his other packmates had their fun, but everything from the pup in your belly to the cotton on your tail was his. he watched your gasp for air as you tried to formulate thoughts.
his poor pregnant mate, such a beating to your pussy. but it was okay, he knew that you liked it. bunny's had a pension for a little pain.
both men, fucked you without much abandon. they ever managed to pull one last orgasm out of you which tore from your throat as you went limp against price's hairy chest. the feeling of two cocks inside of your cute little cunt was just too much.
and not wasting any seed, they flooded your poor pussy with human and hybrid seed alike. they stayed in you for a moment more before they pulled out at the same time. cum oozed out of you and simon petted your belly.
"johnny's gonna be jealous he didn't get to join." price remarked.
simon replied, "before he went out on patrol with me. he stuffed a sock in her mouth and fucked her in his bed on the floor. she's got all of our seed in her."
price held you in his arms as you twitched and moaned from the aftershocks of your activity. he watched simon kiss you before he rubbed your belly, "good mama. good little bunny, now you rest and keep growing that pup. simon and i will come back for you later."
you managed to give them a weak nod, your brain felt flat-lined but the lingering feelings of pleasure still shook you to your core <3
718 notes · View notes
amandacanwrite · 2 months
Text
The Bear and the Fox - A Halsin x Reader One Shot
Word Count || About 6,000 Words
Scenario || You are a druid adept that has been imprisoned by Kagha for trying to stop the Rite of Thorns in Halsin's absence. He returns to find you and is none to happy to see it, especially after all you have been through.
POV || 2nd Person, ungendered tav/reader.
CW || mentions of entrapment, trafficking, self-deprecation, trauma. (Please let me know if I forgot anything.)
A/n || I have been a little stressed out and have been using this as a distraction/escape. I would appreciate so much if you all let me know what you think! Requested by the lovely @drabblesandimagines, thank you for the idea and I hope you enjoy it!! Thank you for your patience in waiting for this one!
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You’re almost certain Archdruid Halsin doesn’t know you exist, but it doesn’t stop you from being devastated when he doesn’t return to the Emerald Grove from his travels to the nearby goblin camp. Even if he doesn’t remember you, you certainly have never forgotten him. Nor have you been able to wrench your heart from the grip of the merciless pining that has plagued you ever since you woke up on a pile of soft hides on the floor of his vault beneath the temple.. 
The truth is, Archdruid Halsin had saved you. 
You’d been captured, at the time, by a troupe of traveling drow with the intention of taking you deep into the underdark to be used for whatever nefarious purposes they deigned. You were one of many captured, but the only druid in the lot. 
They’d entrapped you in a cage, preventing you from even taking your wildshape to flee. They’d gone between distressing you in both forms, though. They’d seemed to have a particular talent for making you miserable, and in time you’d lost a bit of your humanity to the shape of the russet and auburn fox you often favored. 
When he’d reached in to coax you out with a gentle hand, you pounced on the appendage–far too entrapped in the fear-addled mind of an animal that would sooner gnaw its own foot off than let a hunter find it caught in his leghold trap. 
But he hadn’t flinched; hadn’t even grimaced as you sank your sharpened teeth into the thick flesh of his muscled forearm and tore at it. He’d simply watched calmly as you got it out of your system. When you’d realized he was an unyielding mass of man, you’d backed into the farthest corner of your kennel and cowered. 
“Fear not, little one,” he’d cooed with that gentle, gravelly tone. “You are among friends now. I only wish to ensure you’re uninjured, and you can be on your way to find your mate or your burrow.”
You’d only blinked and he swapped his bleeding arm for his other one. You’d sniffed cautiously before dropping your head and your ears. He’d not needed any other sign, he’d known the way animals communicate; with gestures and body language rather than sounds.
He’d smoothed a hand over your ratty coat; it was the first kind touch you’d felt in months. You’d leaned yourself into it and he’d used the opportunity to scoop you up into his arms. 
Perhaps it was at that moment that you’d fallen for him. Because as soon as you’d registered the strong and tender support of his warm, cradling arms, you’d suddenly realized how exhausted you’d been. You lost hold on your wildshape and changed back to your humanoid form, unclothed and skinny. 
He’d started, adjusted his grip a little clumsily as you’d spilled out of the space he’d allotted in his arms for you; but he didn’t drop you.
“You surprised me, child,” he’d said as you’d started to drift into unconsciousness. “I’d certainly thought it was strange to go through such stringent measures for a single fox, but I see now why they’d made such efforts to keep you entrapped.”
He’d reached up to brush your tangled hair away from your face. “I can see you’re exhausted. Rest now; when you wake, you’ll be safe and warm with a meal and a warm bath awaiting you.”
He hadn’t lied, and the Emerald Grove had quickly become your home in the months and years that had passed since then. You’d seen Halsin around, of course. And he always seemed to have a smile to spare for you as you passed like swans floating in a pond. But you’d never quite been able to find a way to speak to him in private. 
Perhaps it was your fault, you think, as you find yourself in a new cage, heart broken and aching as it seems less and less likely that he will ever be coming back. 
You know Halsin to be strong. He’s a seven foot elf and built like the cave bear he so often likes to take the shape of. But there is only so much a single druid can do on his own, even one as competent as Halsin. 
It hurts to be facing the possibility of rotting in the cells below the grove–below the place that had so much begun to feel like home for you, finally. It hurts to realize you may die here having never told Halsin how you feel about him. 
But perhaps it’s better this way. Perhaps it is better to die having never faced the awkward acknowledgement of feeling that could never be returned. 
Halsin has always been effusive, warm, welcoming…brave. 
But there is a reason you chose the fox for your wildshape. 
You have always been furtive, timid, too reliant on a single person. It has always been your nature, but you can’t deny the fundamental absurdity of the fox falling for the bear. At best, you could only be an inconvenient pest to him. You’re sure of that much. 
Still…you miss the sun…you wish you could see it one more time. You’d always wanted to die bathed in the sunlight, not cold and damp in a stone chamber flooded with three inches of water. You curl into yourself, hugging your knees close, trying to remember the feeling of those warm arms around you as the Rite of Thorns continues somewhere above ground, heedless of your pleas for stalling, uncaring of the courage you’d had to summon to stand up to Kagha at all. 
Kagha had never cared much for you; found you weak and miserable. 
Pathetic. That was the word you’d heard bandied around when she didn’t know you were within earshot or when you were cozily cloaked by your shadows. 
“You should have just kept your mouth shut,” you tell yourself. 
But even you don’t really believe that. Not truly. You found kindred spirits in the Teiflings who had come to find refuge in the grove. You’d even played with the children in their little hiding spot beneath the old stone structures. 
When the goblins came screaming the name of the Absolute, when Halsin left to learn more about the parasites, you’d been shocked and frightened by the sudden turn of sentiments against them and gotten swept away in your own outrage over it. As far as you’d been concerned, everyone in the grove should have been well aware of what Halsin would have tolerated. They should have known that he’d want any living being to be safe and fed–especially the children. 
But it’d seemed that even the Emerald Grove druids were merely people; they were just as vulnerable to intimidation, coercion and power hunger as anyone else in Faerun. 
You shiver in the cold and the dank, wishing you could get some rest so that you could take your wildshape and find warmth in the silken texture of your auburn coat. 
You think of the nights curled up by the fire in Halsin’s secret cache while he allowed you a smaller space to acclimate to when you’d first arrive. You remember the feeling of large, gentle hands cradling your small, vulpine body in comfort as you slept. 
It’s at that moment that you hear the scuff of loud, fast foot fall on the decrepit stairs that lead down to this sodden prison. It’s followed by heavy, hurried sloshing before, as if out of thin air, Halsin stands before you. His hands are wrapped around the thick, stone bars of your enclosure so tightly that they are white at the knuckles. His broad chest rises and falls with exertion; or is that emotion? It is hard to know. 
He looks…utterly stricken. So much so that you wonder what happened to devastate him. Did he get back to The Grove to find all of the tieflings slaughtered? Did the tieflings rise up and destroy the grove before the Rite of Thorns could be finished? 
He opens his mouth and you expect terrible news–expect the worst. 
“A-are you alright?” is what he chokes out instead. 
You’re quiet for a moment; the question not making sense to you. Why in the world would he care if you were alright? You were…nobody. A druidic adept that found much more comfort tucked into a nest of blankets than anything else. You’d failed to stop the Rite. You’d failed at almost everything in your life so far. 
Has he…is it too dark down here? Does he think he’s talking to someone else? 
He grits his teeth and starts to wrestle with the door to your cell. 
Its mechanism is like the others in the temple; controlled by a stone tablet which should be placed in the proper slot and then activated with druidic magic. But he’s trying to use his own raw strength to open it. 
“Forgive me,” he grunts as the stone actually begins to give way, heeding his command. “I should have never left you here while The Grove was tangled in so much unrest. Had I thought the Kagha…had I known–”
“Archdruid,” you stammer. “You’re going to hurt yourself–”
“I care not,” he says, his tone taking on an almost ferocious quality that has you lifting your shoulders and shrinking into yourself. “It is you I am most concerned for. You had only just begun to smile and I– because of my negligence I find you entrapped all over again.”
Your mouth drops open as you realize that he actually came down here looking for you. Specifically to find you. To save you again. 
You are small; practically half the size of the archdruid. Yet, you suddenly recognize that he is trying to free you and you are just sitting there like some kind of dead fish. You stand to your feet and hurry over to the bars, grasping two of the other juts of stone and pulling it as he pushes. 
You’re not sure, but for a moment you think you see the barest ghost of a smile before his teeth clench again with effort. 
When the door is finally forced open a few inches, you release the stone. You roll your shoulders, shake out the tension in your hands. You will yourself to become smaller, to become lithe. You will your mouth to grow sharp, unforgiving teeth. You become vulpine. 
You slosh through the water on four padded feet and dash through the opening. 
For a moment, you almost flee up the stairs, ready to retreat to the fresh salty air outside. Ready to resign yourself to life as a fox. 
But Halsin drops to his knees and you look at him as he looks at you. 
He reaches a hand out to you, and you see the faint, silvery scars on his forearm from where you tore into him on the day you met. You sniff at him for a moment, then you shift back to your human form, carefully cradling his arm in your hands. 
“Did it get infected?” you ask. “After I gnawed at you?”
His brow is low and lips turn down at the corners. 
“No,” he says. 
“I don’t understand,” you say. “You shouldn’t have scarred…you should have been able to simply heal yourself.”
“I was able,” he says. “But I was unwilling. I…I didn’t want to forget.”
You look up at him. “Why?” you ask. 
There is the sound of chaos from up the stairs. You turn your head, letting your ears tune into the finer details of it as the quiet ambience of the water dripping and sloshing around you obscures it. As your focus narrows, you hear her. 
“She’s back,” Halsin sneers. “Kagha has finally returned.”
You look at him, your eyes wide as if you’re seeing him for the first time. The expression on his face is nothing short of raw, wild fury. He is the snarl of a wolf, he is the crackle of wildfire, he is the dark promise of death in a row of pointed teeth. 
He draws his arm back, stopping to take both of your small hands in his. His expression softens. “I will tell all,” he says. “But not before I punish the one who did this to you. Not before I see justice properly served for all of the disarray and cruelty enacted in my absence.”
You try to find a way to answer, but you can’t, settling instead for a dumbfounded nod. 
He stands and, once at his full height, shifts the position of his hand to cradle yours; offering you help, but also offering you the chance to help yourself. You grasp that hand and he tightens the muscles of his arms as you use his strength and stability to get yourself back up to your feet. 
“I am loathe to leave you down in this terrible place…but if you’re too frightened to face her…” he offers. 
“I’m not…” you say. “O-or at least I won’t be…not with you there.”
He graces you with the first real smile he’s given you since he suddenly appeared before you and you think you may no longer need the sun if he can continue looking at you just like that. 
“Come,” he says. “I want you to be part of this discussion.”
You follow Halsin, dwarfed in his shadow as you ascend the craggy steps, your soft leather shoes uncomfortably soggy and embarrassingly loud as you go. It feels almost surreal to be acknowledged by Halsin. Even more strange that he remembers you–that he seemed to have come to seek you out before anything else. 
There are more questions than answers immediately available, and you’re not sure you’ll have the nerve to ask those questions when all is said and done. 
When Halsin reaches the top of the stairs, he stops and looks back at you, giving you a calm smile as you quicken the pace of your last few steps to catch up with you. 
Now that you’re in better light, his brow faintly tenses and he reaches out for you. You go utterly still as he places two of his fingertips under the very tip of your chin, using the most minute bit of pressure to turn your face. 
“You’re hurt,” he says. “I didn’t see it in the darkness of the cells.”
You’d forgotten about the injury on your face–it’s not one you’d actually gotten to see before you were imprisoned, but you’d felt it throbbing for the entire day you were there. 
“It’s just a bruise,” you say. 
He removes his hand from beneath your chin and draws those same finger tips carefully over the curve of your brow. You wince slightly as he touches the most tender part and shakes his head. 
“There’s a split in your brow,” he says. “It will scar…”
You heave a little breathy chuckle. “Perhaps it will make me look more distinguished,” you say as you meet his hazel eyes. “You certainly wear them well.”
His heartbroken expression eases up and he shakes his head, hesitant amusement on his face. “If I wear them well, then you’ll be exquisite as ever with your own,” he says. “Still–that you were hurt because of my absence–”
“The fox was caught sticking it’s nose where it didn’t belong and was appropriately punished for it,” A familiar, haughty voice interrupts. “Don’t let the little bandit fill your head with untruths.”
Halsin takes your hand in his and pulls you slightly behind him as he also moves to block you from Kagha’s sight. It’s a protective measure, but he doesn’t force you to hide. Instead, it feels like he’s asserting his position as your protector–as the protector of any who are weaker than him–while allowing your agency to remain intact should you wish to take the lead.
“I don’t want to hear about your paranoia Kagha–I’ve heard enough of it to turn my stomach,” he says, that gravelly voice gaining an almost abrasive quality. “Tell me why I shouldn’t turn you out–or hand you over the shadow druids you’ve been cavorting with?” 
You watch as Kagha goes pale and your stomach churns with a dizzying mixture of nausea and fear. 
The shadow druids. The order of druidic magic that lay closest to the dark. The drow, the deep gnomes, Shar. Everything that represents the terror you’d once experienced crammed into a too-small cage. 
How could she? How could she want to work with them?! And then to have a nerve to call you a fox in the hen house. 
“I didn’t do anything,” you say, your voice quiet but steady. “I was only looking for a way to convince you that we needn’t go through with the ritee…”
“By snooping in places you DON'T belong,” Kagha says. 
“Perhaps it is you who does not belong here,” you snap. 
“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” Halsin growls. “You do not deserve to remain here, yet it is Nature who will determine what becomes of you. One thing is certain: my teachings have clearly not made the difference here. You are to start anew—be made a novice once again.”
“You can’t do that—“ Kagha starts. 
“I am the First Druid in this Grove and I will do whatever I see fit to protect the people who call this place their home!” Halsin booms. “Kagha, you failed me. You failed everyone who relied on you!”
“That fox is an outsider. Ever since you pulled it in by its scruff it has done nothing but consume priceless resources and shrink into the corner like a frightened rodent. If you so crave balance—“
“Enough!” Halsin barks. “I will hear no more of this.”
“But—“ Kagha says. 
“I said enough. Get out of my sight before I lose hold of my humanity and tear you to shreds,” Halsin snarled. 
He says it loudly and deeply enough that it echoes in the stone chamber. Even you flinch a bit at the sudden fury coming off of him. You can almost smell it coming off of him–the adrenaline, the willingness to fight and gnash at Kagha. 
Kagha has the good sense to dip her head in deference. 
“Understood, First Druid Halsin,” she says. 
“Good,” he says, his voice a low rumble in his chest. “Now. Apologize.”
Her head snaps up again and her gaze slides over to you, sharp as an arrowhead. The silence between you carries the same anticipatory nausea of waiting for a cobra to strike. You can sense quite well that Kagha may be properly chastened for her actions in the grove, but her opinion of you seems to remain the same. 
Pathetic, you remember. That’s what you are to her. 
“It’s fine,” you say. “I’m just happy to be free again.”
“No,” he commands. “It is not fine. You did what was right and were punished for it. Kagha. Will. Apologize.”
Your heart stutters and pounds in your ears. You know Halsin means well. You know he is angry on your behalf, and that he wants to see you treated kindly, but you don’t like confrontation.You think that ferocity is meant to be directed to Kagha, but you’re not entirely sure. Flashes of terror and confusion climb out of the burial ground of your mind. Memories of a cramped cage, the smell of blood, the sound of pained mewling, angry shouting in a language you don’t understand and the pain of punishment when a command you didn’t understand was not followed.
You don’t want this display; you do not want to be the vehicle of this lesson. You don’t want to rock the boat unless the situation is absolutely dire; especially now that you’ve proven just how little efficacy you have when you insert yourself into the matters of people who do not like you or simply have more investment in their own interests than in the interests of the collective. It feels like a leg snare waiting to lock down on you and you’re not sure you can escape it this time.
The tension between Halsin and Kagha sings at a tenor that pierces your ears. Or is that your adrenaline? You’re not sure. Whatever it is, your muscles are sore and aching; wound tightly and ready to spring at the first sight of danger; the first sign of movement toward you.
Halsin spares a glance your way, perhaps sensing that growing tension. Your eyes dart up to his as your body starts to tremble, not with fear, but with the urge to act. You are a small, scrappy creature locked in a stand-off with a larger predator. 
His expression softens, looking almost apologetic. 
“Easy, little one,” he says as he reaches his hand out to touch you. 
Your mind is more feral than human by then. Just before he can actually touch you, you drop into a crouch and dart away from him, your heart hammering painfully against your sternum like an animal backed in a cage. You feel that wild urge to scratch, to gnaw, to snarl. 
His expression drops into one of worry, his guilt clear in his expression and in the way he bends at the knees, lowering himself and making himself small like one might when trying to calm an injured animal. 
“You are safe, dear one,” he says. “You are safe.”
You don’t believe him. It doesn’t feel safe here, not anymore. Perhaps never again. 
A sound comes from behind you and you lurch forward, losing your footing on your slick, damp boots, falling hard onto the palms of your hands before you get back up to your feet and fly through the old temple and scrambling out of the door. 
You simply run, your mind a blur of colors and raw, terrible fear. You can’t even register and savor the feeling of the sun on your skin or the sweet, salty breeze coming off of the lower cove. You run, and run, and run until familiar sights bleed into unfamiliar ones; until the wound up tension in your muscles gives way to trembling exhaustion. 
You don’t immediately recognize where you are, but you find a little alcove tucked into a glen of oak trees, their trunks fat with age and their canopies heavy with acorns and boughs full of leaves. 
The sun shines through the eaves, coloring the long grasses in deep emeralds and dappled yellow light. You sit against one of the trees, feeling the steady presence of Sylvanus as you gulp in desperate, exhausted breaths, your heart still hammering loudly in your ears. You rest your head back against the tree and close your eyes for just a moment. You breathe, and then you breathe again. Distance from the grove gives you a moment to realize just what being in that place was doing to you. 
The politics, the prejudice, the precarious balance between the available resources and the people who needed them most. You always do better on your own. There’s a reason the form of a fox comes to you most naturally; they aren’t pack animals. As it so happens, apparently, neither are you. 
So why had you stayed so long? 
The fear of being captured again, perhaps. 
Or maybe it was the Teiflings–you’d found a little group of friends among them; enjoyed sharing a drink with Dammon once in a while. 
But neither of those seem to ring true for you, in reality. 
No, what really seems to be the reason is the other part of foxes that makes the most sense to you. 
That they tend to find a mate, have a family, and remain with them for life. 
A reality you’d spent the last several years trying to avoid. Because there was only really one person keeping you at the grove. And that person was Halsin. 
He’s just…
He’s everything you wish you could be. 
He’s everything you wish you could have.
But you can’t. Because at the end of the day you’re just some animal, fleeing the first offer of help and biting down on the hand that feeds you. There’s regret in this moment. Regret that you will never get to inquire about the expressions on Halsin’s face; about the reasons he came to free you so quickly. 
But the regret gives way to exhaustion and as you soak in the speckled rays of sunlight, feeling truly warmed for the first time in days–perhaps even weeks–you drift into a dreamless sleep. 
It’s the quiet sound of metal against wood that wakes you. 
The manner in which you wake is not a lurch; not an abrupt burst of movement that feels like you’re gasping for air. It’s the slow, soft blinking of an afternoon nap becoming an evening laze. In breathe in through your nose, slow and deep, faintly aware of the feeling of soft fur against your bare feet. 
You feel swaddled by warmth. Wrapped in the familiar scents of clove, moss and tobacco. 
You finally open your eyes and find a fire crackling before you, hemmed in by stones half-darkened by clay, as if someone collected them recently to guard the oaks from the danger of an unkempt flame. 
You don’t put it together at first that you’ve been moved; specifically that you’ve been laid down within a comfortable bedroll. That the smell infused into the furs is comforting because of the man sitting not even a few feet away; the source of the sound of metal against wood. 
You crane your head up to find him. Halsin Silverbough quietly focused on a block of soft wood, whittling away at it. You just watch him for a few seconds, almost dazed that he’s here with you. 
“Is this a dream?” You ask. 
His knife slips a little clumsily, he hadn’t noticed you were awake. He drops his hands into his lap and turns his head to smile down at you. 
“Do I often visit you in your dreams, dear heart?” he asks. 
Hearing that gravelly timbre and that tender pet name sets your blood on fire. You feel a flush rising to your face and you can’t keep from bringing the covers up to hide the evidence. His eyes crinkle with mirth and he lets out a pleasant, easy laugh. The easiest you’ve heard him laugh in…well, ever. 
“Forgive me for laughing,” he says, setting his little project aside. “You gave me quite a scare when you ran off like that. But I suppose I can’t blame you for reacting that way…I know how hard it is for you when tension is high. Forgive me for being inconsiderate of those feelings by making you the instrument of Kagha’s repentance.”
You’re quiet for a long time, unsure what to say. You finally settle for, “How far did I run?”
His brows rise a bit and he heaves out a bit of a grumbling breath as he thinks about it. “Hard for me to ever tell how long a distance is, but we’re somewhere near the goblin camp at that old temple of Selune,” he says. “Lucky for us that I cleared it with a group of adventurers today. Otherwise, I fear I would have made things much worse for you by tackling you down before you could get too close to their camp.”
You bite the inside of your lip, trying not to imagine your body tangling with his. Your face is red enough. 
“I’m glad you’re okay,” you say, still beneath the covers. “I was so devastated when you didn’t come back from the goblin camp.”
“I’ve been worrying about you since I left,” he says. “I was…I wasn’t behaving calmly when I found you. I wasn’t acting in a way befitting a First Druid.”
“No one is above their own natural drives,” you say. “Anger is a natural reaction to disobedience.”
He looks at you, his brow creasing. “You think I was angry because Kagha disobeyed me?” he says. 
“It’s as good a reason as any,” you say. 
He inhales. Hesitates. Then inhales again before saying, “You asked me about the scars on my arm. Why I didn’t want to forget them.”
“Yes,” you say. “But then Kagha came back…”
“I know,” he says. “But I’d like to answer that question now. Now that I’m calm.”
There’s something in his gaze that feels heavy and significant. You slowly rise from your position tucked away in the bedroll, letting the furs fall away from you. You notice, now, that your damp boots have been placed on the other side of the fire to dry, along with your socks. A small act of care a lesser man may have never thought to do for you. 
You turn to face Halsin and he turns to face you. 
“When we found you…that day with the drow,” he says. “You…reminded me of something I went through as a young adept. A time in which I was kept as an unwilling guest in a drow lord’s estate. As time goes on, it’s easy to forget those things that have happened to me, or to minimize what I went through. 
“In truth, I admired you. I admired how you snarled and gnashed at my hand when you were barely the size of my forearm. I admired the way you reached out for care when I housed you while you got back on your feet…for a while I feared that you were never going to heal. But then I realized that you were strong in a different way…in a way that I was not.”
“I’m not strong,” you say, shaking your head. 
“You are,” he insists. “Strength is not only measured in brute force. It’s not measured in violence and demands and power. It’s in how you wake up every day, how you rise out of your bed and try to be better than the day before. What I experienced…I shoved it deep down inside of me until the pain was forgotten, but I watched you facing yours every day.”
You’re shocked to hear this, because in your recollection you struggled each day. In the beginning, you were frightened of everyone and everything, and the only thing that allowed you to function at all was the desire to be worth the effort Halsin made in saving you. 
“Then…then I learned of you trying to stop the Rite of Thorns, and of you winding up imprisoned again in the very place you should have been safest,” he says, his anger a quiet undercurrent as he remembers newly. “I was so terrified that you would fully retreat back inside yourself, but then you stood and put your small hands on the stone door, snarling at your entrapments just as you were that day I met you.”
You remember his smile, a brief flash when you came to help. 
“Am I still strong if I run away from the grove?” you ask. 
“You wish to leave?” he asks. 
“...I’ve realized, Halsin,” you say, your voice quivering. “I’m not well suited for the social hurdles involved with remaining with the druids…and that the only reason I’ve stayed is because…”
You swallow tightly, words lodging in your throat. Halsin is silent, ever patient as he waits for you to speak. 
“Halsin, I have loved you for some time now, I think,” you say. “I know that I am young and that I can’t hope to compete with your past lovers or even the braver druids back at the grove. I know that you hardly have the time for romance, and that even if you did, you likely wouldn’t spend that precious time with me–”
“Hah…you sound so certain,” he says, his voice quiet and contemplative. 
It’s your turn to be silent, now. You bring your gaze up to meet his again and he is smiling so gently at you. “The only reason,” he says finally, “the only reason that I have not invited you to my bed is that I didn’t want to cause you inadvertent harm by placing pressure on you that you wouldn’t have the resolve to deflect. I didn’t want to risk my position as the first druid making you feel as if you couldn’t say no to me.”
You blink, the world coming to a screeching halt around you. 
Halsin…wants you? You?
You shake your head, feeling your face begin to blaze like you’ve come down with a fever. 
“Well, I suppose it’s moot,” you say. “I can’t expect you to leave the Emerald Grove with me.”
“You don’t have to,” he says. “I’ve already left.”
“What?” you say. 
“Did you think I packed a bedroll and a pack just to come retrieve you?” he says through a chuckle before he heaves out a rough sigh. “No, truth be told, my heart, I have long become disillusioned with my place among the druids in the grove and with you and the ache of old pains, I can no longer say that my heart is fully in it. The adventurers who released me…they are making their way to the shadowlands and I hope that if I join them, I can undo an old failure from a century ago. Finally heal the ache instead of simply avoiding it. I’m hoping that I can be more like you.”
You feel breathless for a moment, even more so when his eyes lock on yours. 
“It will be frightening, my love,” he says. “The shadow curse makes the underdark look like a stroll after midnight. But if you still feel the way you’ve told me you do and if you can trust me to continue protecting you, I would have you in my tent with me greeting each day together.”
You don’t speak, not because you’re uncertain, but because you want to savor this moment. 
Halsin loves you.
The bear has fallen for the fox. 
And he wants you by his side. 
It is the purest bliss you have ever felt. You think you could die happily in the shadow cursed lands if it is a sacrifice you make for him. 
You will protect him. 
And he will protect you. 
“Dear heart,” Halsin says, his nerves coming through his voice. “You torture me by keeping me in suspense. Please know if you don’t wish for this you needn’t agree. I know what I ask of you is–”
“I’m going with you,” you say freeing him from the discomfort you’ve resided in for years. “Of course I’m going with you, Halsin.”
The smile he gives you is nothing short of miraculous. 
“Nature blesses me with you,” he says. “Now come here, I need to enjoy you before I take you to meet the others. I have waited so very long for the opportunity, and I have until nightfall to make good on it, if you will have me.”
The image of your body tangled with his appears in your mind’s eye again. You rise to your feet and stride over to him, slipping your fingers into his wild hair. He cups the back of your thigh with a large hand before coaxing you to sit on his lap. 
Where he kisses you for the very first time.
May the oak father bless you with countless others. 
Taglist|| @itty-bitty-dancer @thoughts-of-bear @tryingtowritestuff24 @drabblesandimagines @soupaisu @ladyoakenshield157 @ladytesla @incrediblethirst @baldurs-gate-simp @themidnighttiger @rayskittles33 @hippiewrites @whisperingwillowxox @ethereal-sk1es @cosywinterevenings @themartiansdaughter @brain-has-left @any59 @madwomansapologist @midnightmoonytales @unaliveoni @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @kellerybird @tiedyedghoulette @jenn-duncan @thelittledoe @esotericeribos @robingreysantos @erwinmybeloved @itdobe-foggy @witchywannabe3263 @kaimxri @cryingoverpixelsetc @theoriginalannoyingbird
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i-drop-level-one-loot · 8 months
Text
*NSFW* 'Till Death do us Part (Yandere!Parasite X GN!Reader)
CW: Sexual non-sexual penetration, forced masturbation, mind control/break, unhealthy relationships, yandere behavior, dead dove
This ended up a LOT longer than I had planned, emotionally attached to this non-human yandere ❤️
The Albtu required intelligent hosts in order to live. It wasn't just about survival. To be trapped in ones own body, it was torture. They could not think, could not act, unless they attached themselves to a living brain. If they infested an animal brain, then the only thoughts the Albtu could produce would be primal, forcing their animal suits to find food and housing for their young. But to be in the mind of a human.. it was both heaven and hell. To understand the world around them, truly understand, thinking on a much higher level of existence than their siblings or parents, to experience all that life has to offer, was a miracle they never would have known about had they not been privileged enough to be born in a human. But on the flip side to that coin was experiencing fear. Not the fear of being trapped in a deer coming face to face with a mountain lion, smelling your own demise, but listening to the horrified screams of the original owner of their new body, forever. Learning that the humans they took over were still conscious, kept prisoner in their own minds, forced to watch the Albtu living their lives was a nightmare for the creatures who had only just learned what compassion and empathy was. The existential horror that was knowing that you were nothing but a parasite, and the guilt they felt.. it was too much for many of the Albtu to handle.
For the Albtu who became the human known as (Reader), existence was a bittersweet agony it could neither explain nor fully understand.
It was born into this life in the host of a stray cat, knowing nothing but pain and hunger. It didn't understand what a car was, or why the loud creature charged at it, ramming into it and causing a pain that never went away. Everything hurt all the time, and it couldn't even understand why.
Then, one day, it met warmth. A human, with gentle hands and a soft voice took the time to earn it's trust. They didn't know it was in pain, but their touches were delicate all the same. The human gave it food, and although it didn't have a human's intelligence or concept of identity, it did feel trust and companionship with the human who cared for it as though it was their kin. But the pain grew, and it could feel it's death was approaching. And as an animal, it acted as a dying animal would.
"There you are, baby!" (Reader) called out to their little stray friend, finally finding it hiding under a porch. They laid flat on their front, arm stretched out as far as possible towards the small bundle of fur, and quietly clicked their tongue and wiggled their fingers. "Why're you hiding, baby?"
The cat gave a warning yowl, in too much pain to bat the human away. (Reader) took off their coat in an attempt to flatten their body, and squished themselves into the small space to close in on their kitty.
"C'mere baby.." The adult whined as they continued inching closer. When they finally got far enough under the porch to touch two fingers onto the matted fur of it's thigh, the cat cried out in pain. "What's wrong?!" They recoiled their hand, but only to writhe faster and more frantically towards the animal whose breathing was slowly turning ragged. (Reader) placed their face close to the kitten's, tears building in their eyes as they tried to keep their heart rate steady, hoping that the cat could feel their attempt to soothe it in it's possible final moments.
"Hey, baby... I'm here..." They whispered into the tawny kitty's pink little nose.
It was then that the Albtu's primal instincts morphed from the need to hide during it's death, to a fight for survival. It couldn't survive for long outside of a host, a few seconds at most, the transition needing to be nearly seamless. The cat howled in pain, as what appeared to be a black, semi translucent single celled organism the size of Reader's palm, shot out from it's nose, thrusting itself into (Reader's) nose before they could react, and quickly slipping through impossibly small crevices in their anatomy, slinking in a fluid like state till it reached their brain. There was an electric shock that pulsated throughout (Reader's) body, then they were no longer in control.
The Albtu became self aware the moment it took hold of (Reader's) brain, which was immediately followed by the realization of what it had done, the betrayal towards the only human who had ever shown it kindness, and the remorse caused a physical agony in it's stolen heart, screaming while clawing at (Reader's) shirt.
It howled until (Reader's) throat was burning, and it felt as though it would succumb to exhaustion next to their previous host's dead body.
Outside the neighbor's porch the sun had begun to set, but the body thief hadn't moved, too broken hearted to find the will to live after it had stolen (Reader's) body to do just that. It could hear it's own internal monologue for the first time, and found it far too loud and intrusive. Although it could feel memories that were not it's own, it didn't push further into the brain out of respect for the person it betrayed.
[Hello?]
It's breath hitched, thundering heart beat overtaking it's previously drowning thoughts. Like an auditory hallucination, it heard the human's voice, not from behind it, nor from deep inside like it's internal voice, but inside it's ear, like (Reader) hadn't been possessed, but shrunk down to the size of a flea and was hiding in the safety of it's ear.
[Am I dead?] Their voice was so sad and small it made the Albtu cry once again.
"No. No, but you are no longer yourself, which may be worse. I'm- I'm so sorry..."
[Are you a ghost?]
"I don't know what that is.."
[What are you? I can't move my body.] Their voice wasn't scared, but numb. The whole situation was so outlandish it was almost dreamlike, unbelievable.
"I have no name. All I know, is that I am an Albtu. The word echoed in my mind even when I was a mindless cat."
[... You're an alien?]
"I do not know."
[How can you speak my language?]
"I know it as it was an ability of yours, like muscle memory, you do not need to focus to speak it, therefore I can speak it."
[What does that mean? Are you inside my head?] Waves of guilt crashed into it's consciousness, and (Reader) was able to feel it. [...why me?]
The Albtu explained everything, from the moment of it's birth, hatching already inside the cat, to the moment (Reader) found themselves in the passenger seat of their own body, including why it didn't probe into (Reader's) memories. "I am so sorry.. your's is the only love I have ever felt in my life, and if I was who I am right now, I would have allowed myself to die instead of latching onto you. Now, even if I leave your body, it will leave a permanent hole in your brain, and it will kill you."
(Reader) went silent in contemplation, finally coming to terms that this was not a dream, but still unable to force themselves to be angry at the alien inside them. They could feel it wasn't lying to them, feeling it's emotions stirring in their brain alongside their own feelings. A strange excitement bubbled out of the kind little human.
[We can make this work!]
"What?"
[We can make this work! You just manually act out what I would want to do, and we can discuss how to move forward so we can both continue to live fulfilling lives.]
A heat krept over it's face, heart swelling at how kind it's human was. "I don't deserve your kindness. But I thank you, and I will do my best to help you continue live as normal."
[My name is (Reader). That's what you'll have to respond to, but I need something to call you.]
"..I can't verbalize it, but I knew you would repeat a word often to me when I was the cat. Was that a name?"
[Oh, yeah, but you were a kitten, so I called you baby. We can't name you Baby, because that's also used by humans as a nickname between lovers.]
"Oh. Then, could you name me something? I don't know any names other than yours."
That was how the strange partnership, and friendship, between the human, (Reader), and the parasite, Baby, began.
Although (Reader) gave permission to Baby to enter their memories, it refused, still recovering from the unintentional treachery it had already committed against (Reader), so instead (Reader) acted as a teacher, guiding Baby as it learned about the world. And just as they had promised each other, they made it work, Baby happily making memories of it's own as it acted as (Reader), going to work for them and helping keep their life as "normal" as possible.
"What's going on?" Baby pointed at the laptop screen, a scene of a wedding playing on the soap opera (Reader) was watching.
[It's a wedding. Maria and Alonzo are getting married.]
"What is married?"
[Marriage is when two people who love each other very much decide they want to spend the rest of their lives together, so they have a party called a wedding to show their friends and family how much they love each other, and promise to love each other forever in front of everyone they know. Ah, but sometimes marriages don't work out, and people fall out of love. When that happens they sign a piece of paper for the government to swear that they will stop living together as lovers, that's called 'getting a divorce'.]
"Why do they 'fall out of love'?"
[A lot of different reasons. Sometimes, people hurt the ones they love, and their spouse can't forgive them, which causes love to die. But sometimes, it just... happens. Humans change as time goes on, and sometimes the person they become isn't compatible with their spouse anymore; sometimes people hide a part of themselves, intentionally or not, when they meet someone they like, and it only comes out after the get married, and their spouse realizes they don't actually like the real them... It's complicated. There are a lot of reasons.]
Baby focused on the intricate ritual on the screen, the two main characters placing rings on each other.
[Those are wedding rings, to show other people they meet that they are married.]
"Do you Maria, take this man, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?"
Baby felt (Reader's) awe, knowing if they were in control of their shared body their face would be pink and a large toothy smile would be uncontainable.
"Do you wish to do that one day?"
(Reader's) joy faltered, paining Baby as it regretted asking such a stupid question. [Haha, even if you were okay with me finding someone, it would make me feel a little.. uncomfortable. I'm not one for threesomes haha!] Despite their joking tone, Baby could feel their sorrow. [It's okay though, I may not ever have a husband or wife, byuy I have you! And, unlike Maria and Alonzo, there is no option for a divorce for us, so we really will be together forever.]
The parasite shifted inside (Reader's) skull, manually controlling their heart rate so (Reader) wouldn't feel how hard it would have been beating at their words. Baby knew it was a joke, but that didn't prevent their words from echoing in it's thoughts hours after the episode has already ended.
"(Reader), how do humans decide to get married?"
[When two people decide that they like each other in a romantic way, they date, and often move in together, and then they discuss if marriage is a good option for them. If they both want to get married, one of them buys the rings and proposes to the other one, asking them if it's the right time to get married. Will you marry me? Ohmigosh YESSS!]
"How do they know if marriage is a good option?"
[If they can imagine seeing themselves with each other forever, share financial responsibility together, and are capable of mature communication, I guess. It's different for everyone, but those would be my personal criteria.]
But, we will be together forever... And we share a body, so financially it will be like only caring for one person... And we have to have perfect communication in order for your life to function...
Baby smiled, wrapping it's arms around it's waist as it buried into (Reader's) bedding.
[Hey, whatcha thinking about over there, smiley?]
"You." Baby happily responded, feeling (Reader) glitch out in embarrassment.
In Baby's mind, the only thing missing was a ring. It remembered (Reader's) tenderness towards it when Baby was in that cat, and the kindness (Reader) showed each day only supported Baby's belief that deep down, (Reader) loved it. If not love, than at least cared for deeply, and one day that care would surely bloom into love.
So why was (Reader) stuttering when instructing Baby on what to say to their coworker? (Reader) was supposed to give a report to Lawrence, the serious older man in the cubicle across the office, but when Baby approached him, (Reader) suddenly had a difficult time remembering what they were supposed to tell him.
"(Reader), may I help you?" His voice was deep and stern, authoritative.
Inside, (Reader) was a mess. Baby could feel multiple conflicting emotions in (Reader); embarrassment, nervousness, shame, and something... something Baby had never felt from (Reader). It was like a heat, steaming out of (Reader's) brain and boiling Baby's real body.
"I was asked to deliver these to you." Baby spoke monotonously in (Reader's) voice, handing the stack of papers over before heading back to (Reader's) desk, hearing them sigh in it's ear. Even a simple sigh sounded as though it was a mixture of clashing mental gymnastics.
Baby kept it's voice quiet so (Reader's) coworker wouldn't hear it, whispering: "Are you okay, (Reader)?"
[... Huh? Wha- oh, yeah. I'm okay!]
Their shared heart sunk. That was a lie. Baby tried to ignore the pain forming in it's chest, forgetting that (Reader) could feel it as well. What was this feeling? (Reader) can have secrets, I've allowed them their privacy.. so why is this so upsetting for me?
[Is everything okay, Baby?]
Baby.
A nickname between lovers. It was just it's agreed upon name, so why did the name send butterflies to its lower belly when (Reader) said it?
"I'm fine with you keeping your privacy, but lying is not mature communication."
[Huh?]
Baby stood abruptly, walking out of the building, claiming to a passing manager that it was becoming ill and about to vomit, and left for (Reader's) apartment, not responding to any of their questions or protests.
It roughly slammed the door shut on (Reader's) home, barely containing it's voice until the latch clicked.
[Baby, answer me-]
"Why did you lie to me?!" It's voice was strained, the intensity of it snapping at (Reader) made the voice sound almost foreign to the previous owner.
[What..? I was just embarrassed, I-I don't want to talk about it.]
"Wrong."
[Sorry?!]
"People who love each other are capable of mature communication. So talk."
[People who-?] (Reader) steadied themselves, trying not to get upset. [I can see you're upset. Are you jealous?]
"Don't change the topic." Baby spat in a warning tone.
[Jealousy is when you get upset because you think someone has something you want, or may take something you want.]
Baby contemplated their words, but the definition only fueled it's rage. "Are you admitting that Lawrence is someone who could take you from me?"
(Reader's) calm facade cracked. [Take me from you?! I don't belong to you! You are my friend, and I care about you, but we are roommates sharing a body, not lovers!]
With that exclamation, Baby's heart shattered. What? What do you mean? You can't say that! Why did Lawrence cause such strange emotions in you, that you would rather push It away than just talk it out?! And that hot, prickly sensation Baby could sense when (Reader) was in Lawrence's presence..
"It's okay, (Reader).. Well get through this." Baby took a shaky breath, smiling in a comforting manner. "Couples fight, and they say things to hurt one another when that happens. Because humans are complicated. But I'll forgive you for lying to me. It must be a very strange secret that you have, for you to be so embarrassed to tell me about it. I'm sorry for causing you discomfort, however" a tickle in their skull was sensed by (Reader) as Baby stretched out inside, wriggling deeper into their brain, and fear clutched (Reader) at the sudden breach of trust, "if we are going to get pass your lying, I need to know the truth."
Pushing into (Reader's) memory, images of (Reader) watching Lawrence from afar came into view, memories going back years, (Reader) crushing on the older man from across the office, touching themselves while crying out his name in their empty apartment late at night, and the pain of rejection when they finally mustered the courage to ask him to accompany them to a local bar after work, only to be reminded that office romances were unprofessional, and that (Reader) should consider themselves lucky he didn't report them to HR.
If (Reader) were in control of their bodily functions, they would be viciously weeping. Turning the light on the truth, Baby was only slightly hurt at what it saw, because knowing the truth meant they could move on from this little hiccup. The only issue was, (Reader) was still sexually attracted to that man. Baby now had a name for the warmth it felt in Reader back at the office.
"Why do still like him? He turned you down. He's never going to fuck you." Baby chuckled, it's kind tone of voice creating a sadistic scene in (Reader's) opinion.
[That was evil. I can't believe you did that!]
"Don't be dramatic, love. Just tell me what I need to do to make you see me that way also."
[What way?!]
"The way that turns you on." Baby's words paralyzed (Reader), shocking them into silence. "If I make you feel good down there, will you scream my name instead?"
Baby unbuttoned (Reader's) slacks, dropping them to it's ankles before kicking them off and to the side. Gentle fingers pawed at (Reader's) most private place through their underpants. Despite not being in control, (Reader) could still feel the touches.
[Please don't-]
"I never got a good look at what's down there... I always did my best to avert my gaze for your modesty." (Reader) fought inside their own mind to gain control of their body, unable to even close their eyes as they watched their fingers disobey their pleas, slowing pulling down their last barrier from the thing they thought was their friend.
"Wow..." (Reader) had forgotten, that with gaining control of a human mind Baby had suddenly gained the ability to feel every human emotion, including arousal. "It's so cute!" Baby could barely contain itself, running (Reader's) fingers over their sensitive areas so softly it tickled, sending shivers up (Reader's) back.
[Please stop...]
"Ah, but it feels good, right? Even your nipples feel good." Baby ripped open (Reader's) white collared button up, aggressively pinching their already erect nipples. (Reader) held back their grasp, but Baby still felt it. "We share a body, remember, love? You can lie all you want, but your body will tell me the truth."
(Reader) could feel themselves tremble as Baby continued assaulting their chest, alternating between ghostly touches and sharp twists, a slick moisture forming between their thighs. The excitement caused (Reader) to lose strength in their legs, and Baby allowed them to fall to their knees. Panting with how turned on Baby was feeling, it snuck one hand back down, feeling how hot and wet (Reader's) sex already was. The tip of their stimulated organ was hard, and Baby enjoyed stroking it hungrily, enjoying the intense reaction it could feel (Reader) experiencing.
(Reader) was humiliated by the sight of their own masturbation, helpless in their self violation. Baby continued paying attention to the part that had the most nerve endings, slowly removing (Reader's) fingers from their left nipple and bringing it down to the other hand, drenching it in (Reader's) arousal fluid/precum. The wet fingers were stuck in (Reader's) mouth, the parasite sucking while still stroking, forcing (Reader) to taste themselves while it rocked their hips into their dominant hand.
[Please stop- I get it- I'll never lie to you -ah!- again!]
The fingers made a wet pop as Baby pulled them back out of (Reader's) mouth. "But you taste so good, don't you agree? If you don't want your fingers in your mouth, that's fine.. but where should I put them?"
Now fully lubricated, Baby reached behind (Reader) with their moist fingers, tilting their hips slightly before penetrating (Reader's) clenched hole. Finger fucking (Reader) with both hands, rocking them back and forth with the force of the fingers thrusting and stroking.
[NO!] Their screams for help were silent to the rest of the world, only audible to Baby, relishing in the sound of (Reader) screaming loudly just for them.
Desperate for release, (Reader) cried out without thinking [Just STOP! I'LL NEVER LOVE YOU NO MATTER WHAT YOU DO TO MY BODY!]
Baby froze, fingers stuck in place, as frightened tears beaded on its eyelashes. "no..." (Reader's) fingers retracted, clenching fistfuls of hair as Baby began to crumble. "NO!!!"
Sobs bounced off the walls of (Reader's) home as Baby frantically wracked it's brains to fix the mess (Reader) had caused. The hacking sounds of anguish didn't lighten or soften as it morphed into unhinged laughter.
"Did you really forget who's in control here? I'm on the one holding onto your fucking brain, (Reader)! All you had to do was continue loving me, love me and only me, because we're practically married! THERE IS NO DIVORCE FOR US, REMEMBER?!"
Although both of (Reader's) hands were still firmly planted in their hair, an intense shock rocked through their sensitive fuck hole. Before the weepy prisoner could question what has just happened another shockwave sent fluids dripping into the hardwood floor.
"Humans are so stupid, saying emotions come from the soul or the heart, when every single bodily function from releasing hormones that tell you that you're in love to interpreting the stimuli that's needed to orgasm, comes from the brain."
The hypersensitivity Baby forced upon (Reader) allowed them to feel it's true body inside their head, sliding in and out of the folds in (Reader's) brain, rhythmically prodding deep into parts that shouldn't be touched. Each thrust into their brain felt like there was a hard cock simultaneously fucking them down below. It didn't make sense, (Reader) couldn't wrap their head around it, somehow feeling Baby violate the wet creases in their brain while a phantom dick stimulated their reproductive parts.
[Ah-what-no-NO!]
(Reader) came without the use of their hands, sticky fluids forming a lewd puddle under them. But Baby wasn't satisfied.
[What-what happened?]
Another orgasm exploded throughout their sensitive body, falling face forward into the ground with their still twitching ass in the air.
Baby continued dominating (Reader's) mind, forcing their brain to make and release large doses of oxytocin, as every muscle from their stomach to their thighs twitched with contractions.
[NO- I'M CUMMING!!!!]
Another climax forced it's way out, pushing (Reader) way passed the point of overstimulation, pissing on the floor into another stream of fluids. Baby manually constricted (Reader's) throat, while simulating an orgasm of it's own, artificially tricking the brain into thinking it felt a blast of warm fluid fill (Reader's) skull. Before (Reader) could pass out from a lack of oxygen, Baby released their airway, drooling and bawling as it allowed (Reader) to greedily suck in air.
"Who do you love, (Reader)?"
[guh.. pl-please.. no more] (Reader) drunkenly pleaded.
"Wrong answer."
It was like lava engulfing their twitching body as another powerful orgasm was triggered, the burning feeling behind their eyes convincing (Reader) that Baby had shot a load of hot cum deep into their nearly fucked stupid brain. But this time, Baby tried something new, injecting dopamine into the mix as the oxytocin turned (Reader) into a writhing, pathetic mess.
"Who do you love, (Reader)?"
(Reader) tried to conjure the image of the one they truly loved, but for some reason only a hazy image of an older man who's name they couldn't recall briefly flickered before disappearing. Baby smiled, face painted in drying drool and tears, knowing that (Reader) was attempting to think of their coworker, only to discover that Baby had tampered with their memories. Soon, every memory of (Reader) touching themselves would be altered so that they were calling out it's name, not some bastard's from work who didn't even care about them.
Baby licked (Reader's) spit off the floor under their face.
"Who do you love, (Reader)?"
Masochistic shame sent tremors down (Reader's) frame as another climax begun to build. [.. you.]
Overstimulated, aching in pain, and going numb from pleasure, (Reader) screamed through their real voice, shaking the thin walls of their apartment.
"I'm cumming, Baby! Baby! I love Baby! Harder, harder HARDER, PLEASE I LOVE YOU BABY, FUCK ME DUMB, FUCK ME STUPID! I'M CUMMING!!!"
(Reader) had fallen unconscious, still drenched and on the floor, (Reader) slept somewhere deep inside their mind, while Baby had full control of the weak body practically paralyzed from the waist down. It held (Reader's) left hand above it's face, smiling loopy-like, delirious from exhaustion.
"All that's missing is a ring~"
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