tawneybel

[tawneybel]

Sorry for being missing in action. My grandmother passed away this week. She’d been in and out of the hospital and rehab since February. This is the second time this has happened around the time my favorite band released new music. 

[tawneybel]

YANDERE CARLOS WIP

Request: “yandere carlos oliveira resident evil 2 [sic] remake x neutral reader?” I hurt my hand/wrist, so here’s a WIP. Suggestive, haven’t gotten to the really NSFW yet. This part might get rewritten for the final draft if the rest diverges too much. 

Imagine trying to pinpoint when Carlos became obsessed with you. 

Carlos trailed you like Nemesis after Jill. You got the feeling he’d knock down walls if he could. It wasn’t stalking. Because you needed to be with him. For your own safety. That was something you both wordlessly agreed on. So you were always going to be together. Neither of you knew that yet, but Carlos was starting to warm up to the idea. 

“Hey! Fuckface!”

Later that night, after your tryst, after Carlos retroactively decided it’d been love at first sight, you decided against joking that’d been directed at you. “Fuckface” could be an apt nickname. But you didn’t want him to start thinking your face was his personal fleshlight. Or pillow. Being used that way sent a jolt of pleasure down past your waist. 

Only later would you come to regret being seen by Carlos. After hitting Nemesis with the rocket launcher, the mercenary’s eyes met yours. You were clearly not the target. You were just trying to help your… What was Jill to you? A roommate? Friend? God, he hoped she was just a friend. You pointed your chin at her, forced yourself to smile gratefully, and got to your feet. 

How were you not even singed? Well, he could check your skin for burns later. Right now you wanted him to help her. 

“Name’s Carlos and I’m saving you!” 

He had an easygoing way about him, even in an emergency. Even when it became clear there was some siphoning darkness in his heart, Carlos was charm personified. 

The two of you supported Jill until all three of you were underground. In the subway. It was hard to carry on a convo when everyone was trying not to stumble on the endless steps, Carlos carrying a rifle while you both helped Jill descend.  

“We’ve been bringing survivors here.” 

Jill finally caught her breath and stood unsupported. “‘Here’ where?” 

“My guys have converted some subway cars into a shelter,” he answered, checking to make sure nothing came down the stairs. He nodded at you and Jill, but made to put his arm around her shoulder again.  

“I’m fine.”

“Personal space. OK. I get it. Let’s go.” It came out jovial enough. Carlos didn’t want Jill to think he was hitting on her. Somehow he hadn’t been able to “accidentally” brush his hand against yours when assisting her, though. If she was a rival, maybe it would’ve been better to let that behemoth take her. Sure, Carlos’s cute new crush would be traumatized. But with Raccoon City burning and infested with the hungry dead, well, he’d love to be the shoulder you cried on.

“I don’t have an issue with personal space,” you joked. It just slipped out. The mood drastically needed lightening. A rocket launcher might not be enough to take down that thing hunting Jill. You wanted to make a joke about Nemesis’s feet being too big to take the steps; he’d have to roll down. 

That phrase was all Carlos needed to hear. He tapped your forearm and you smiled for the second to last time that night.

“Let’s go.”

Before obeying, you spotted the vending machine. Carlos shouted at you to be careful while you gingerly moved your hand past the broken glass. 

Out of reflex, you took his hand. Your vice-like grip. It didn’t bother him. 

“Sorry, Carlos. I’m just… It’s just really scary out there. And I thought you might need to replenish your energy.”

You loosen your grip and he squeezes your hand reassuringly, thanking you. 

Jill questioned Carlos on that monster. That’s what she called it. “That monster.” Personally, it made you think of a troll or some other humanoid from folklore. It probably didn’t calcify in the sunlight, though. Then you remembered the tentacles. How could you forget? They were scary as fuck. Why were they even there?

“...it’s no zombie, it knows what it wants and won’t stop till it gets it. Don’t you like that in a man?”

“Normally,” you responded to Carlos. You shared a smile behind his back. “That’s not Jill’s type, though.”

“He’s all yours,” she added, also directed at Carlos. 

______ liked the persistent type. Great. And if he’d looked over his shoulder, he would have caught you shamelessly checking out his backside. 

“Look, I promise you’re in good hands. I’m with the Umbrella Biohazard Countermeasure Service. U.B.C.S. for short.”

Uh oh, you thought, a split second before fantasizing that Umbrella Corps gave butt plugs with their logo to their top employees. Any chance of Jill being taken in by this smooth talker was nil.  

“Are you kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me?! You guys are the ones who caused all this!”

Carlos woah’d four times. “What are you talking about? You don’t have to trust me, but we’re going to the shelter.” He opened the door to the subway’s station. “You comin’?”

Replaying that exchange in your mind later, you realized that if Jill had been outwardly angrier, she would have been a dead woman. Despite her tone, Jill’s body language hadn’t changed as she descended that penultimate flight of stairs. S.T.A.R.S. agent or not, Carlos only saw her as useful in the sense you liked her. Platonically. How would he have excused his actions to his fellow U.B.C.S. soldiers?

Following him to the train car, you let Jill hang back a moment. Something felt off. Maybe it was the creepy posters. Normally you’d be all over a Skull Stalker double feature. Trying to keep your friend safe from a real stalker quelled that desire. 

“Hey, Captain. ______ and this fine young lady could use our help.”

The peculiar introduction didn’t escape your notice. Mikhail, as he was about to introduce himself, nodded at you before admonishing his underling for not asking Jill her name. Turns out he knew of Officer Valentine. Carlos’s proximity also didn’t escape your notice. Despite the fact you were a civilian, neither he nor Mikhail expected you to join the others. You listened to the rest of the conversation on your feet. The other three were sitting down, or in Carlos’s case kneeling. 

Probably practicing proposing, you mused, unaware how not far off the mark you were.  

“...hey, it’s cool, we all want the same thing,” he said, dragging you out of your thoughts with a glance. 

“Alright, supercop,” he addressed Jill. “Here you go. We can use this to stay in contact.”

“I know what a radio is.”

And so Jill returned to the surface. Concluding the prologue of your romance with Carlos Oliveira. 

[tawneybel]

Now on AO3.

Note: “Adrian Griffin (The Invisible Man)... his girlfriend/wife would never be allowed to leave that amazing house… Pregnant but not by choice.” To what should be no one’s surprise, this contains birth control tampering and worse.

Imagine Adrian making sure you’re pregnant, but not by your choice. 

If only you hadn’t been so trusting. But there was no way you could have known what lengths your husband would go to. The scariest part was how prepared he’d been. And by himself. No security guards, no spying housekeeper ready to tattle at any second. 

At least, you thought, trying not to wince as Adrian’s hands guided your hips. At least he’s letting me outside now. 

“Is this going to shock-?”

“No,” he had said, smiling at your worry. “It’ll just vibrate a little if you try to take it off.”

At the time, you didn’t know you were pregnant. Adrian knew, of course. Had later bragged about knowing. Whether he’d secretly drawn your blood or was just so confident in his own virility, who knew? 

“Is it too tight?” he’d asked, feigning concern for your comfort. Then he paused. Palms firmly planted on your waist. Grass tickled your sandal-clad feet. Ankle monitor remained unspoken. 

“No.”  

Adrian didn’t need to deceive you as much as he thought he’d have to. Six months’ worth of placebo blister packs? Unnecessary. His wife finished getting ready for bed, climbed in beside him, and graciously took the pill and sip of water without question. Obliviously trained. Fertility pills quickly replaced sugar pills.   

You had trusted him each time he handed you a pill from his nightstand. Thought it was romantic that he wanted to be responsible for your birth control. His newfound hatred of condoms after the wedding, despite being able to orgasm perfectly before, hadn’t registered as a red flag. 

In his mind, you were essentially a virgin until he had sheathed himself inside you unsheathed. Adrian Griffin wasn’t ignorant about female anatomy. He just felt that his penis overrode everyone else’s. No misunderstandings about microchimerism or the hymen. His wife didn’t even think about other guys during sex and hers was probably ruptured nonsexually. The clitoris needed stimulation. His wife had never cum on another dick because her previous lovers were inept- Yes, all of them. Orgasms weren’t needed to conceive. His wife- 

“Maybe after all this we can get you a proper vibrator.”

“After what?” you’d naively asked, wishing you could buck away his roaming hands. The way they’d migrated to your belly felt off. The whole situation was beyond off. 

He just smiled that same arrogant smile.  

At first he’d been an attentive and protective, if kinky, spouse. Much later you’d realize that, for all his hubris, Adrian sure was clingy. 

Adrian couldn’t stand the thought of you using a sex toy that resembled anything other than his cock. If your genders were reversed, you were sure you would be gifted a fleshlight, or -lights, resembling female Adrian’s orifices. And instead of a breast pump, the milking machine would have been for male _____’s cock. 

Like Amy Dunne on steroids, you thought, his hands on your hips again, this time guiding you onto his shaft, harder than you’d ever seen it. A lightbulb turned on. Maybe that’s how he knew I was pregnant. He collected my urin-

“You know better than to resist. Your body knows better than to resist.”

Referring to your sopping pussy. And clitoris, twinning with his massive dick in how almost painfully swollen it was. 

“Sorry,” you said, forcing yourself to make eye contact. “I was just daydreaming-”

“Momnesia.”

“Huh?”

“Momnesia, mom plus amnesia. You have momnesia” he thoughtfully explained. “All those pregnancy hormones,” Adrian continued, relishing pregnancy, “are making you spacy. It’s why you’ve been so forgetful lately. More than usual.”

What an obnoxious portmanteau.  

You made yourself smile gratefully. Cockhead kissing your lower lips. If you stalled a little, he might come prematurely again. Premature ejaculation was new. Had never happened while you were dating. But your expecting body had him completely hooked. He’d really never been that hard before breeding you. Outside of you, anyway. Even wrapped, Adrian never suffered any performance anxiety. 

It looks almost ready to burst. The veins look almost ready to burst. 

It was scary. And you were wetter than you could ever remember being. 

No oral for nine months. Maybe until you’d weaned the baby. You could understand why no blowjobs, but you wished he’d go back to licking your clit. Now creampies seemed like an obligation. Adrian had to cum inside your needy little pussy, replaying his fertilization of your womb over and over and over again.

You could imagine his response: “Why would I ever need another hole to fill?”  

He at least didn’t care if you masturbated, provided you left your shlick dildo where he could find it. It was actually casted from his dick. Not just modeled after. Casted. At least he hadn’t gotten any molds of your cunt. Unless he’d drugged you. Which he hadn’t yet. Probably. 

Aside from the fertility pills, you huffed. 

The optic scientist probably had hidden cameras. Other than the ones you were told about. He’d been honest, as far as you knew, initially. Maybe it was just to keep you on edge. Or obedient. There was never any evidence he jerked off alone. Except a couple times you’d “caught” him in the shower. In which case he’d happily substituted you for his hand.  

If he’d been truthful about wanting to knock you up, if he and you’d planned it, he wouldn’t have fucked you this much. Bent over the kitchen counter or table while clearing the dishes. Picked up and fucked against the wall. Any wall. Didn’t matter if it was the shower wall or one next to an all-exposing, ceiling-to-floor window. The latter felt more spontaneous, though. 

No landscapers for a few weeks, so the grounds were “overgrown.” Even after the announcement, guests in general were few and far between. You’d discussed a baby shower. For now, though, he was so enthralled by your expanding belly (and tits), your husband had to keep you for himself and only himself. With how this situation was unfolding, the baby shower would probably be last minute. It would suck if you gave birth then and there. Not just go into labor, because Adrian was adamant on a home birth.

So far everything has gone well. Better than well. Perfect. All those supplements he insisted you swallow. If anything did go wrong, he assured, there was flatter land for a helicopter nearby. Hmph. 

He flicked your lovebud. Impatient frown turned into a smile at the sight of your pretty eyes welling up. Adrian flicked it again and you almost jolted until he forced himself inside proper. Lifting you up, he readjusted himself to reenter at another angle, stuffing himself inside all at once. With your husband balls deep, tears streamed down your cheeks. Of joy or fear you weren’t entirely sure. 

Instead of making you slam on his cock over and over, he made you stay still. Skewered. If only you could rip your gaze from his. Then you would’ve seen the very visible outline of his bulge. How can he still be so in control this aroused?    

The inevitable orgasm was horrifying. You shut your eyes, his mocking laugh making you just want this session to be over. You tried to obediently ride his agonizing cock until Adrian slid out.

“Just going to hook my thumbs into this greedy pussy, then…”

Glans rubbed against glans.

“Please,” you begged, “I want you insi-!”

A hand covered your mouth, smearing your own juice on your face. Thankfully none of it got in your mouth. 

“We are never using condoms again. You are going to let me finish inside you whenever and wherever I want. The only time,” he grunted, rubbing his erection against your clit, “I won’t ejaculate in you if I want to jizz on those soft, fat tits or on your grateful face.” The way he held you open was starting to hurt. Making you gape. “And you will be grateful. For every orgasm, for however many children I can make you make, and-”

“Children?”

Those blister packets. The ones you’d found after picking the lock to his nightstand. They looked like your BC pills. But the prescription only allowed three packs.   

You didn’t mean to say anything. Adrian smirked. 

“What? If you have a problem with it, I can shackle your other ankle to the bed.”

“No, I- I want to have your babies.”

“I know a world renowned fertility clinic.” Continuing, like you hadn’t spoken at all. “Not only can they safely postpone a woman’s menopause-” Your heart would have dropped if it hadn’t been thumping so hard. “-we can even make sure you have multiples. Not just twins or triplets. How’d you like to have a handful of ‘litters’?”

The scenario was ridiculous. He was basically planning on turning you into a real life Old Woman in a Shoe. You tried to concoct an excuse about the space. But money was no object. Dozens of scenarios, each more kinky and terrifying than the last blasted through your thoughts. And worse of all was he could just move you into a location even more remote. Isolate you. If you disobeyed. 

Weakly, you tried to tilt your crotch away from his cock, which only earned you mocking laughter.

“No,” Adrian admonished, finally leaving your clit alone. “You don’t get to waste my semen anymore.” The fact he was technically “wasting” his own seed was pointed out. “Well, you can be modified. Why do computers get to be the only ones with extra storage?” 

And with that inquiry Adrian effortlessly pushed himself inside. Both of you climaxed harder and messier than you’d ever before in your lives. The thought of storing your husband’s sperm, like a hive queen to be “self”-impregnated again over and over again so pussy-drippingly horrific, you would revisit it countless times when Adrian finally trusted you enough to leave you alone while he worked. 

Note: It’s up to the reader to decide if he’s serious or just tormenting her. :P 

[tawneybel]

SOMEONE TOOK MY VOICE BUT I’M STILL SCREAMING

Song of the day: “Lamb Who Screams” by Banshee. A new fave artist! Thanks, Spotify! 

I hurt my wrist/hand, and that happened like a week after a checkup. :/ But I’m halfway done with the yandere Carlos Oliveira fic!

I’m wondering if I should start posting WIPs, even though I usually do a lot of trimming before posting final drafts. Right now I shouldn’t be doing too much typing even though I have a padded mousepad.

I have some other medical stuff going on, but so does the rest of my family. My mom’s getting gallstone surgery soon, so I’ll look after her as she recovers. 

Better news:

Might start a new job soon, with regular hours. 

My current boss was happy for me and said I could still stay on and take dropped evening/weekend shifts if I wanted. 

Got made a board member for a small nonprofit. 

Might house sit for a neighbor for a week, which includes looking after doggies. :D 

Watching/going to watch next:

Dark. One of my mutuals recommended it to me. First two episodes were pretty good. 

Wolf Man: Hey, did you guys know I love werewolves? Going to try to watch this and the following this week or next.

MaXXXine: Mia Goth is a treasure, though the first two installments were kind of meh to me. This seems more my speed. 

Cats 2019: NOT actually classified as a horror movie. Somehow. Not so familiar with the original, but I actually studied Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats in school. 

[tawneybel]

yandere carlos oliveira resident evil 2 remake x neutral reader?

Got the smut outlined. Hopefully will get to the first draft soon. Just need to ramp the yandereness up a bit more before I properly begin. ✍🏻

[tawneybel]

Carlos won! His request will get posted first, followed by Father Karras’s. Then I’ll do another poll for the next two requests.

Not a gamer, so I watched Markipler’s let’s play. (Other Resident Evil stuff I wrote is based off the films.)

Because I’m indecisive…

Full requests:  

“yandere carlos oliveira resident evil 2 [sic] remake x neutral reader?”

“Will you ever write more about Demon Father Karras? Maybe a follow-up to your other 2? 🤞🙏😇”

[tawneybel]

Because I’m indecisive…

Full requests:  

“yandere carlos oliveira resident evil 2 [sic] remake x neutral reader?”

“Will you ever write more about Demon Father Karras? Maybe a follow-up to your other 2? 🤞🙏😇”

[tawneybel]

Because I’m indecisive…

Full requests:  

“yandere carlos oliveira resident evil 2 [sic] remake x neutral reader?”

“Will you ever write more about Demon Father Karras? Maybe a follow-up to your other 2? 🤞🙏😇”

[tawneybel]

Hii, I was wondering if you also write for characters from slasher movies who AREN'T antagonists?? Because I'd love to request from you once your requests are open again!!!! 👉🏻👈🏻

I’ve written for slasher victims and side characters before! As long as a request is for a horror* character (or characters) and doesn’t break any blog rules, you can request whoever!

You can also ask about headcanons or whatever I have for certain characters in the meantime. 

I’ve looking through my inbox and trying to decide what request to do next. I’m wondering if a poll would help. 🤔

*Or villain/monster.

[tawneybel]

Pairing: Henry Creel x Reader

Prompt: "Why are you running? I did this for you!"

Requested By: Anon

Warnings: Light stalking, yandere themes, death, blood, kidnapping.

Henry was finally free. Free of the lab, of the restraint placed on his powers. Free to mold his surroundings to his desires - to make the world as it should be.

And then he found you.

He saw you out walking and his first instinct was to follow you. Instantly intrigued, he had to watch you; to know what you were doing, to see where you were going. The feeling washed over him so suddenly that he couldn't ignore it. You were special.

Henry watched you every day for a week. He knew that he had to have you. You had to be a part of his new world. To stand beside him. When he finally approached you, he was perfectly polite. A gentleman in every way. He was charming and direct, and he knew once you agreed to spending time with him that he had you.

He invaded your mind. He saw your memories and used them as a guide to form a bond. To make you want him. To make you need him. If you fell for him, he knew you'd see his vision.

Then things changed. He knew that eventually Dr. Brenner would come looking for him. He just hadn't expected to be so easy to find. He'd have to leave - and you were going to come with him. He hadn't yet gotten to show you how perfect things would be.

You were witness all at once to what he could do. Henry, who had been so gentle with you, wreaking carnage upon those that had been sent to take him back to the lab. A mess of mangled bodies strewn about, blood splattered here and there. Some of it had landed on you. The warmth of it surprised you when it splashed against your skin. The smell of rust and death. It felt like a nightmare.

You ran before you could process anything. Your instincts took over and you fled. You could hear Henry calling for you. "Why are you running? I did this for you!" Henry's voice was just loud enough to reach your ears; his tone almost pleading.

He let you flee for a moment - processing his confusion and pain. But he stopped you in the end. And as he held your wriggling form against him, he reminded you over and over that it was for you. Everything he did was for you. To keep you safe.

To keep you.

Buy Me A Coffee?

[tawneybel]

Note: “Adrian Griffin (The Invisible Man)... his girlfriend/wife would never be allowed to leave that amazing house… Pregnant but not by choice.” To what should be no one’s surprise, this contains birth control tampering and worse.

Imagine Adrian making sure you’re pregnant, but not by your choice. 

If only you hadn’t been so trusting. But there was no way you could have known what lengths your husband would go to. The scariest part was how prepared he’d been. And by himself. No security guards, no spying housekeeper ready to tattle at any second. 

At least, you thought, trying not to wince as Adrian’s hands guided your hips. At least he’s letting me outside now. 

“Is this going to shock-?”

“No,” he had said, smiling at your worry. “It’ll just vibrate a little if you try to take it off.”

At the time, you didn’t know you were pregnant. Adrian knew, of course. Had later bragged about knowing. Whether he’d secretly drawn your blood or was just so confident in his own virility, who knew? 

“Is it too tight?” he’d asked, feigning concern for your comfort. Then he paused. Palms firmly planted on your waist. Grass tickled your sandal-clad feet. Ankle monitor remained unspoken. 

“No.”  

Adrian didn’t need to deceive you as much as he thought he’d have to. Six months’ worth of placebo blister packs? Unnecessary. His wife finished getting ready for bed, climbed in beside him, and graciously took the pill and sip of water without question. Obliviously trained. Fertility pills quickly replaced sugar pills.   

You had trusted him each time he handed you a pill from his nightstand. Thought it was romantic that he wanted to be responsible for your birth control. His newfound hatred of condoms after the wedding, despite being able to orgasm perfectly before, hadn’t registered as a red flag. 

In his mind, you were essentially a virgin until he had sheathed himself inside you unsheathed. Adrian Griffin wasn’t ignorant about female anatomy. He just felt that his penis overrode everyone else’s. No misunderstandings about microchimerism or the hymen. His wife didn’t even think about other guys during sex and hers was probably ruptured nonsexually. The clitoris needed stimulation. His wife had never cum on another dick because her previous lovers were inept- Yes, all of them. Orgasms weren’t needed to conceive. His wife- 

“Maybe after all this we can get you a proper vibrator.”

“After what?” you’d naively asked, wishing you could buck away his roaming hands. The way they’d migrated to your belly felt off. The whole situation was beyond off. 

He just smiled that same arrogant smile.  

At first he’d been an attentive and protective, if kinky, spouse. Much later you’d realize that, for all his hubris, Adrian sure was clingy. 

Adrian couldn’t stand the thought of you using a sex toy that resembled anything other than his cock. If your genders were reversed, you were sure you would be gifted a fleshlight, or -lights, resembling female Adrian’s orifices. And instead of a breast pump, the milking machine would have been for male _____’s cock. 

Like Amy Dunne on steroids, you thought, his hands on your hips again, this time guiding you onto his shaft, harder than you’d ever seen it. A lightbulb turned on. Maybe that’s how he knew I was pregnant. He collected my urin-

“You know better than to resist. Your body knows better than to resist.”

Referring to your sopping pussy. And clitoris, twinning with his massive dick in how almost painfully swollen it was. 

“Sorry,” you said, forcing yourself to make eye contact. “I was just daydreaming-”

“Momnesia.”

“Huh?”

“Momnesia, mom plus amnesia. You have momnesia,” he thoughtfully explained. “All those pregnancy hormones,” Adrian continued, relishing pregnancy, “are making you spacy. It’s why you’ve been so forgetful lately. More than usual.”

What an obnoxious portmanteau.  

You made yourself smile gratefully. Cockhead kissing your lower lips. If you stalled a little, he might come prematurely again. Premature ejaculation was new. Had never happened while you were dating. But your expecting body had him completely hooked. He’d really never been that hard before breeding you. Outside of you, anyway. Even wrapped, Adrian never suffered any performance anxiety. 

It looks almost ready to burst. The veins look almost ready to burst. 

It was scary. And you were wetter than you could ever remember being. 

No oral for nine months. Maybe until you’d weaned the baby. You could understand why no blowjobs, but you wished he’d go back to licking your clit. Now creampies seemed like an obligation. Adrian had to cum inside your needy little pussy, replaying his fertilization of your womb over and over and over again.

You could imagine his response: “Why would I ever need another hole to fill?”  

He at least didn’t care if you masturbated, provided you left your shlick dildo where he could find it. It was actually casted from his dick. Not just modeled after. Casted. At least he hadn’t gotten any molds of your cunt. Unless he’d drugged you. Which he hadn’t yet. Probably. 

Aside from the fertility pills, you huffed. 

The optic scientist probably had hidden cameras. Other than the ones you were told about. He’d been honest, as far as you knew, initially. Maybe it was just to keep you on edge. Or obedient. There was never any evidence he jerked off alone. Except a couple times you’d “caught” him in the shower. In which case he’d happily substituted you for his hand.  

If he’d been truthful about wanting to knock you up, if he and you’d planned it, he wouldn’t have fucked you this much. Bent over the kitchen counter or table while clearing the dishes. Picked up and fucked against the wall. Any wall. Didn’t matter if it was the shower wall or one next to an all-exposing, ceiling-to-floor window. The latter felt more spontaneous, though. 

No landscapers for a few weeks, so the grounds were “overgrown.” Even after the announcement, guests in general were few and far between. You’d discussed a baby shower. For now, though, he was so enthralled by your expanding belly (and tits), your husband had to keep you for himself and only himself. With how this situation was unfolding, the baby shower would probably be last minute. It would suck if you gave birth then and there. Not just go into labor, because Adrian was adamant on a home birth.

So far everything has gone well. Better than well. Perfect. All those supplements he insisted you swallow. If anything did go wrong, he assured, there was flatter land for a helicopter nearby. Hmph. 

He flicked your lovebud. Impatient frown turned into a smile at the sight of your pretty eyes welling up. Adrian flicked it again and you almost jolted until he forced himself inside proper. Lifting you up, he readjusted himself to reenter at another angle, stuffing himself inside all at once. With your husband balls deep, tears streamed down your cheeks. Of joy or fear you weren’t entirely sure. 

Instead of making you slam on his cock over and over, he made you stay still. Skewered. If only you could rip your gaze from his. Then you would’ve seen the very visible outline of his bulge. How can he still be so in control this aroused?    

The inevitable orgasm was horrifying. You shut your eyes, his mocking laugh making you just want this session to be over. You tried to obediently ride his agonizing cock until Adrian slid out.

“Just going to hook my thumbs into this greedy pussy, then…”

Glans rubbed against glans.

“Please,” you begged, “I want you insi-!”

A hand covered your mouth, smearing your own juice on your face. Thankfully none of it got in your mouth. 

“We are never using condoms again. You are going to let me finish inside you whenever and wherever I want. The only time,” he grunted, rubbing his erection against your clit, “I won’t ejaculate in you if I want to jizz on those soft, fat tits or on your grateful face.” The way he held you open was starting to hurt. Making you gape. “And you will be grateful. For every orgasm, for however many children I can make you make, and-”

“Children?”

Those blister packets. The ones you’d found after picking the lock to his nightstand. They looked like your BC pills. But the prescription only allowed three packs.   

You didn’t mean to say anything. Adrian smirked. 

“What? If you have a problem with it, I can shackle your other ankle to the bed.”

“No, I- I want to have your babies.”

“I know a world renowned fertility clinic.” Continuing, like you hadn’t spoken at all. “Not only can they safely postpone a woman’s menopause-” Your heart would have dropped if it hadn’t been thumping so hard. “-we can even make sure you have multiples. Not just twins or triplets. How’d you like to have a handful of ‘litters’?”

The scenario was ridiculous. He was basically planning on turning you into a real life Old Woman in a Shoe. You tried to concoct an excuse about the space. But money was no object. Dozens of scenarios, each more kinky and terrifying than the last blasted through your thoughts. And worse of all was he could just move you into a location even more remote. Isolate you. If you disobeyed. 

Weakly, you tried to tilt your crotch away from his cock, which only earned you mocking laughter.

“No,” Adrian admonished, finally leaving your clit alone. “You don’t get to waste my semen anymore.” The fact he was technically “wasting” his own seed was pointed out. “Well, you can be modified. Why do computers get to be the only ones with extra storage?” 

And with that inquiry Adrian effortlessly pushed himself inside. Both of you climaxed harder and messier than you’d ever before in your lives. The thought of storing your husband’s sperm, like a hive queen to be “self”-impregnated again over and over again so pussy-drippingly horrific, you would revisit it countless times when Adrian finally trusted you enough to leave you alone while he worked. 

Note: It’s up to the reader to decide if he’s serious or just tormenting her. :P 

[tawneybel]

I want to get one of my friends into Yellowjackets, but she became a vegetarian after watching Hannibal. Like, she already wanted to become a vegetarian and Hannibal gave her the push she needed lol. 

[tawneybel]

I used this gif and not one of Orlok’s hand’s shadow engulfing Wisborg because those poor townspeople are already suffering from the plague.

They do not need to deal with obscene gestures in addition to vector-borne disease. XD

Imagine Thomas walking in on you and Count Orlok doing obscene shadow puppetry. 

Note: It’s foreplay, Tom.

[tawneybel]

I love reading your content and have been meaning to ask if you could write an Adrian x reader smut. I have read the one so far and I like it. Adrian Griffin (The Invisible Man) is my soul mate and I love his character😍. I imagine his girlfriend/wife would never be allowed to leave that amazing house. Pregnant but not by choice. A smut imagine on what life would be like living with Adrian would be such a gift

Thank you. 🥰

I’m clearing out my inbox and this is from almost two years ago, whoops. 

But I started this request the other day and it’s 1,200+ words so far. Probably won’t be much longer than that. I’ll try to get it posted next week. 

The house is okay, but if that was my property I’d want to plant a huge garden. Or a moss lawn.

[tawneybel]

Imagine Thomas walking in on you and Count Orlok doing obscene shadow puppetry. 

Note: It’s foreplay, Tom.

[tawneybel]

A History of Ghosts, Spirits, and the Supernatural describes Eleanor Vere Boyle’s Beast as “a kind of beaver or walrus,” then claims that he wasn’t really originally given a physical description. But I read a translation of de Villeneuve’s story that mentions his “trunk, similar to that of an elephant.”

He might be the most redesigned fairy tale monster ever.

“Beauty and the Beast” was never really a favorite fairy tale of mine, so I can only think of three versions of it from my childhood off the top of my head. 

The Orchard Book of Fairy Tales: This illustration scared me so badly. Might have been the first time I ever saw a depiction of the Beast, but I’m not sure if I knew the fairy tale was specifically “Beauty and Beast.” 

Disney: I didn’t grow up with the the first movie. Someone taped The Enchanted Christmas off of ABC Family (?), so we watched that. This Beast just can't hold a Lumière to that scaryass Ian Beck Beast. Also, Forte’s design was way cooler than the Beast’s. Best Disney direct-to-video villain.

Jan Brett: One of our teachers read this to us in elementary school. Or at least had it in her room. Somehow I felt my classmates were disappointed this version was pretty much just a warthog with a human body lol.

[tawneybel]

Imagine Fulton Balcus trying, and failing, to hide the reason he brought you to Chronos.

At first you think he wants you for himself. Then, as you go further along the “growth corridor,” it becomes clearer Balcus wants you to be part of the Zoanoid breeding program. 

“Grotesque little creatures, aren’t they? You could easily become one with-” The chairman cleared his throat. “Er, one of them.” 

Where do I sign up? was what you wanted to ask.

Note: On a body horror kick lol.