Pls do something with Andrew and a fem reader I feel like there's too little content of him, of course you don't have to and I totally get if you don't want to just do it when you have time and if you want to
don’t you wanna make me proud?
Pairings: andrew graves x fem!reader
CW: nsfw, female reader, afab reader, dark themes, unprotected sex, marking, smoking, blood, murder, mild gore, decapitation, manipulation, argument, guilt tripping, established relationship, toxic relationship, but he does love reader don’t worry, reader’s also a bad person, there’s no incest shut up, ashley’s actually fucking dead, mild 3A spoilers, guy and woman kissing during pride month my bad guys, slightly ooc but for a reason I swear, crybabies that’ll unfollow me again lmaoo, I mean this shouldn’t be romanticized but this game’s fucked up anyway- INCEST FANS DNI AND SEEK HELP, not proofread.
A/N: I have to clarify this on EVERY tcoaal post, but no I don’t support incest don’t cry in my comments and yes, this game is actually good. it’s not as bad as you say it is, and if you somehow think this is gooner material, you have problems if you goon to this game. also again if yall unfollow thats ur choice on being uneducated so go interact with my other content tf….now playing — I like the way you kiss me by artemas. 🕯️
Warm, metallic flicks of the lighter dragging the flint wheel against chrome swiftly elicited a scratchy hiss that echoed throughout the cramped motel. Followed by a gentle orange glow crackling along the lit end of the cigarette, caving the off white rolling paper to crumple and darken into a blackening grime folding in a brownish gradient upward. Your jaw tightened at the nauseating hit of nicotine clouding the air as a wreck to your train of thought, with even the slightest sound equivalent to a pin drop serving to easily irritate you.
Your gaze narrowed over to the scrunched cushions of the torn up couch, rips and scratches littered over the grey cotton tugged down alongside a few stains of god knows what rubbed on various edges. Though, your boyfriend didn’t seem to mind much while he lounged carelessly on the couch, head tipped back over the edge and legs crossed over the opposing armrest with his knees barely bent to accommodate his taller frame within the confines of the annoyingly small sofa.
Andrew’s fingers kept on the thin cylinder of his cigarette pressed to his chapped lips, while his ring finger idly traced along his chin whenever he drew in a breath to ease his nerves, green eyes mindlessly dozing off into the distance as if he contemplated on an elaborate scenario that awaited you two. He hadn’t exactly been subtle regarding his clear distaste for the wretched situation the two of you had landed yourselves in, despite his eyes scripting a drastically different story from what his mouth said.
That sickening memory was all too clear, the outlines of her once intact skull flat against the carpet, left to drown in her own blood as seeping pools of crimson swallowed up the dampening fabric. Eyes devoid of any light, lacking unshed tears with her sliced head detached from her neck that carried the dead weight of the rest of her body in her usual clothing. Such a horrific sight to behold as you trembled, hand clasped over your mouth to choke in the feeling of your own hot breaths trapped in your humid palm while you couldn’t tear your eyes away from her corpse.
Yet Andrew on the other hand kept his sights fixed on the floor, face decorated with reddening splatters that ranged all over the left side of his face, along with his palm painted in his own sister’s blood as he gripped the polished wood of the cleaver—now tainted with the vermillion that he shared with the one who lay dead before his feet. Dread snaked its way within your senses at Andrew’s gruesome display of rage blinding the usually calm man, even more so whenever you were met with Ashley laying limp on the floor. Unable to respond, nor protest.
You hated her. Never was there a time you hadn’t wished death upon the disgustingly attached piece of shit that refused to grow up from clinging to her brother. Seeking to preserve a fantasy of having her caretaker at her beck and call in such deluded hatred and cuts of anyone else that seemed to come close to him. Hell, you wanted to find your own chance to cut her neck off with that cleaver, and delight in the sight of her gone to be plunged into the burning pits of the underworld.
Despite all that, you couldn’t even swallow back the pure trepidation lumped in your throat at the sight of your longing wish finally come true. Fuck, didn’t feel as good as you hoped…if anything it made you feel awful, retracting every mental thought that piled up to cover the initial elation to see those once hatred filled pink eyes finally darken. Hatred morphing into pity & remorse plagued by fear. Fear that crashed onto you with Andrew’s lapse in judgement when he struck his sister, his glare cold and unfeeling when set on her laying without any sort of burial.
But you knew, behind that oddly cool expression, lie a scream of misery and regret, rotting him from the inside out with the lingering whispers of him wiping out the only person he ever had before. The girl he raised perished by the claw of his own hands, that were drowned in her blood.
No matter. You were still here, right? He was fine with that. His darling girlfriend just needed to support him through the loss of his sister. It’s better this way, no matter how much he missed her.
Strangely enough, he was able to play it off unaffected. Although the consequence remained with his feelings for you simply stinging tenfold. Playing the role of the overprotective boyfriend, dictating the two of you as a single aspect rather than seperately as he refused to let go. Decisions he made had to accomodate to you both, and the thought alone of you no longer at his side only widened the existing pit aching in his stomach.
You wouldn’t think to leave the man you loved, he’s going through a hard time. He lost his sister after all, so you should stick by his side. No matter how much he frustrates you, or how much of a dick he’s been recently, stay by his side.
You can do that, can’t you, (Name)?
He’s scared he’ll let you down.
Distressful silence swallowed the tense air continuously as you expelled a hushed sigh, growing increasingly perturbed by the lack of noise from Andrew still letting clouds of smoke roll off his tongue in a thick, fluffed fog. His knee poked further out of the torn denim holes from his jeans, loose threads peeking out of the rips the further his leg retracted back to sit upward.
“Andrew.”
You finally spoke his name firmly, pivoting over from the flimsy wood of your chair to face him. Well, that certainly caught his attention as he whipped his head over to you, messy locks hung down his head as his fluffed hair stuck out. The quizzical expression plastered along his face almost made you reconsider retaliating his recently shut out behavior, blurs of exhaustion lined along the bottom of his eyes in darkened circles bagging down his face. It made you feel sorry for the tireless efforts he exerted for the sake of you.
“Hm?”
“So..about the next course of action after we get out of here? We need to have a plan somehow.”
Andrew only clicked his tongue pensively to the roof of his mouth, pondering possible scenarios of what he could possibly do upon vacating this crappy motel. Pursing his lips, his sharp eyebrows furrowed deep in thought to evaluate any possible outcome that hurled his way. Both to keep you safe, and to eventually end up out of the run in the shadow of his awful self—hopefully safe with you in the disgruntled effects of this awful person he was. He blinked, curling up off the couch as his socked feet planted into the ground with his elbow resting atop his thigh.
“I don’t have anything. Give me a bit, (Name).”
Since when was your boyfriend suck a lazy prick? At least get a hook of sorts on what you could ease into gradually! You wondered with the drops of sanity left in you on what consumed the once calculating and farsighted man who planned ahead on the smallest of conundrums, shielding you from any ills possible. Perhaps the previous encounter with Lord Unkown—or that’s who Andrew said he was—could’ve played a part, or maybe your lack of cooperation with his initial plan. Either he was drained and unable to formulate his thoughts properly, or he was just straight up upset with you. Well, the latter made more sense in this case.
“Look, if this is about us being caught by the police, I’m sorry. But we disposed of them and even destroyed the camera! I just wasn’t thinking with that giant demon and accidentally caught the attention of an officer. It’s been handled, we can move on.”
Andrew only exhaled a scoff through his teeth squinting over at you to contain the deep wave of disdain. He couldn’t possibly be upset with his love, yet why wouldn’t you listen to him? Why didn’t you trust him?
“I told you to trust me. And we don’t know if the footage was deleted altogether, by the way. We just got rid of any other potential footage of us butchering the cops.”
“I always listen to you, Andrew. You can’t flip out because I thought you were going crazy with a single idea. I just thought my judgement would be the better one. And how was I supposed to trust that your idea would be more ‘beneficial’ as you put it?”
“Stick around and you’ll find out.”
You grumbled at his vague, yet cryptic reply huffed past those beautiful lips, deep in their desaturated hue. Likely from the lack of being tended to and cared for. Standing from your chair, you stepped over to his spot on the couch, plopping yourself down at his side against his shoulder, baggy drags of black fabric draped loosely past his exposed collarbone to brush against your arm. Expression knit tight, you delivered a disapproving shove to his arm, earning that darkened expression as he cocked an eyebrow.
“I don’t know what’s been up with you lately, but—“
“But what? Don’t tell me you’re taking it out on me for your screw-ups.”
By the second, you could feel your seething vexations slipping through the cracks of your composure at Andrew’s indignant attitude and presumed grudge harbored toward you. You drew in a deep breath, scrambling for any sense of control over wanting to smack him upside the head before rising to your feet, folding your arms as you stared down at Andrew not even bothering to look over at you.
“What the fuck..? Look at me when I talk to you.”
You hadn’t done anything, to be frank. In fact, Andrew preferred your company far more than Ashley’s. Even enjoying yours by miles ahead due to your civilized nature, and endearment of reciprocated affection toward him. He’d hate to hurt you, but of course your refutation towards his already shattered mental state could do nothing but drive him crazy, even as Ashley’s ghost continued to haunt him. Leading to him abruptly kicking the bottom of the dented coffee table as the ashtray clanked against the wood, and standing upright before you furiously.
“You don’t get to order me around, (Name)!”
“Then quit being pathetic and act like my partner for once instead of a child who didn’t get his way!”
“Why can’t you see it?! I’m clearly hurting! Can’t you atleast stick by me instead of being a bitch! Hell, I should’ve killed you instead of her!”
Shit. That one stung.
Your breaths only came out ragged and uneven at his words that cut you apart from the inside, prodding at your heart gently before spearing through. You didn’t know what you expected from him, he did raise her his whole life after all. By now, Andrew had picked up on the mindless words he had spewed out in no time, his initial heated irritation boiling down back to the plane of rationality.
“(Name). You know I didn’t—“
“Is that how you really feel, Andrew?” You heaved out, your own heavy lidded eyes meeting his. He was quick to shake his head vigorously, stepping back from you as he raised a hand to his nape, the tag of his sweater flicking along his skin in his increased sense of everything around him.
“I’m sorry. I’m just…” he couldn’t even finish his sentence before he fell back into the couch, head craned down to bury in his knees as he set the shrunken cigarette into the ashtray weakly. “I love you. But I can’t help but wonder if I regret it.”
Unfortunately, you shouldn’t understand. You shouldn’t feel sympathy for this man who missed someone who clung to him like a leech. And yet, here you were. Weak in his wallowing call of pity that bit at his judgement and possessed its collar of need on him.
“You know I love you.” He reiterated, almost pleading for you to stay with him, knowing the foul monster he was in a corrupted cage of dread. You could simply sit beside him once more, cheek smushed to his shoulder from sheer exhaustion building up within you. Both of you.
“Sorry. I forgot it’s tough for you.”
“Don’t be, my love. It’s just, I lost my sister. The girl I raised. Dead by my own hand. Can’t you spare some patience for me? I know I haven’t been able to think straight recently.”
You hesitantly stared down at your lap, chest twisted in rue. He’s going through such a hard time, and so are you. He was the only pillar you could lean on in this storm of grief you could navigate through, and you were his. Your lover and clear equal, the one you’d give up the world for and vice versa.
“I’m going through a bit. Love me the way I love you, (Name).”
“I do love you. I’d never let you go over something so petty.”
“My beloved.”
He leaned further into your touch to seek a brief sliver of warmth radiated by you, jet black locks tickling your face as he breathed out a hum of contentment.
“Mm. Wonder what I get from following your orders then?”
“…don’t you wanna make me proud?”
“…I do.”
Andrew tentatively clasped his hand in yours, lacing his fingers as he thumbed at the soft flesh contrasting his leather like touch, sighing out in utter need to adhere to the warmth he sought from you.
“Can I make it up to you?”
“As in sex?”
“You’re way too on the nose about it…but yeah.”
Your gaze pierced those hollows of devilish green at his gradually reddening face, eyes hooded low as you carefully examined him up and down, wanting to take in his thin figure concealed by the baggy clothing he wore.
“Of course.”
That small whisper was the final switch that flipped over, darkening the empty cavern that was Andrew himself to fill up with your existence as his ground. The tip of his nose nudged up to yours as his eyes never left you, flickering down to your lips for a split second through his hazed vision blurring together lust and love into one. Before lunging in to collide his lips to lock against your own. In which you gratefully accepted, leaning into the kiss you yearned for as your hand squeezed his at the painfully close proximity.
—
It would be pathetic hadn’t you loved him, really.
The way you caved in so quickly to his pleas, happy to sob out those sharp, needy gasps that occasionally dissolved into a choked out moan when you felt him inside you. Yet it was of no concern to be ashamed of, especially when it was something you craved no matter how swollen your cunt ended up being, or how bruised your body was from the various marks he ingrained onto you. His apology was quite enough for you to bask in when he took care of you this well.
You were utterly drunk on the dizzying bliss of Andrew prying you open on his thick cock, legs coiled tightly around the bony end of his waist as his thin figure stuck to yours in a thin layer of sweat. His nose dug deeper into your feverish skin to scramble for some sense of semblance in the blanking ardor that intensified with each thrust into you, each contraction of your spongy walls squeezing around him as if you were begging him to stay inside you.
Surely his hunger for your pussy was difficult—if not impossible to satiate, while the fire that raged within him to drive himself into you couldn’t be put down even by an army. His need for you only rose everytime he rolled his hips in and out of your cunt, starved gaze flickering to the glistening slick moist along every inch of his length. Showing you with every breath expelled from his body, every movement and every ounce of his being to let that display of affection shine through.
His physical need for your body wasn’t even enough. Thrusts burying himself deep inside you, pressing his tip roughly to dig into your womb a scorching testament to how badly he desired you, what you truly were to him. A show of how intense the need for his everything was. Fingers sinking into your thighs, his bruising hold on you tightened, squeezing the cloud-like softness that brought about his refuge, fervent thrusts speeding up to seek more of your whimpers gradually heightening in pitch and volume as his veins dragged along the gummy velvet of your walls.
Lingering kisses sloppily traced down your throat to your chest as his tongue ran long every purple tinged bloom of his teeth dragging your skin to suck in, accompanied by outlines of his teeth dotted in your flesh. Alleviated by his warm tongue pressed to those marks as an apology of sorts. An apology for the pain you endured for his desire, and a remedy for you to be enveloped in the same desire of his which you both yearn for.
Andrew’s quickening thrusts speared into you over and over as your shaky thighs remained pushed apart in his iron grasp, your free hand off his back tangling in his dark hair, threading through before squeezing a fistful of his locks to ground yourself from his harsh movements. Rather than gently rolling his hips at a leisurely pace, he merely rammed them forward to slam into you, lodging his cock deep within you as he relished in the vice like grip you maintained around him.
Your nails dragged down his back swiftly at the height of your intense orgasm drowning you in pleasure, heart slamming against your chest as you could only manage a small whimper once he withdrew his cock from you, ropes of hot white painting your lower stomach. Without hesitation, Andrew hemmed you in his protective grasp, thin arms wrapped around you as your hand rubbed his shoulder, seeking his affection after practically being hit with the wave of your climax.
You weren’t supposed to cling to him like this.
You were supposed to let him know this was pathetic.
But you weren’t any less pathetic, were you?
Andrew finally rasped out in his strained voice, clearly faded from the low groans he let out earlier.
“I’m so proud of you.”
A/N: OMFG help this was highk fun to write because I’m really in my dark themes mood and I feel guilty if I write it with my comfort characters—but honestly tcoaal is perfect for writing these kinda themes so. But tbh again, if yall cry im writing for this game just leave atp and don’t be dicks my bday is tomorrow yippee because again, if you refuse to be educated on this game and want to point fingers with TikTok and Twitter knowledge be my guest.
Also, to the requester, please don’t be so cautious with your request. It makes me upset how the tcoaal fandom is a mix of weirdos and normal people, and the normal ones get treated like utter ass by rude fucks, so requests are overly cautious. Ofc I’d be happy to write your request especially cause you asked nicely, but honestly take care of yourself and bring up the confidence when requesting ❤️
And again, don’t cry in my fucking comments…yall wanna cry about video games but where are yall working towards stopping ACTUAL issues like…I dunno fucking human trafficking, child marriage, HELL EVEN IRL INCEST WHERE PEOPLE ARE MADE TO MARRY THEIR COUSINS. So if you really wanna talk about how incest is bad, stop acting like something that isn’t glorifying incest is, and go help the world you sorry excuse of a human. I love all of u guys sm and this fic was high key fun to write because me and my friend were on call and I asked him whether I should add the nsfw or not lmao
