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apollodeath · 6 months

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Playing Prey Again?

A/N: I FINALLY GOT IT DONE. Please forgive me if it’s not as good as the first one 🧎‍♀️ I never intended to write another predator/pray kink related fic BUT I’m happy to do it again and again cause they’re so fun and soooo hoottt. Also thank you to everyone who supported my last one I was so worried it wasn’t good. Also sorry for any typos or grammatical errors.

Reader referred to as you, she/her and pet names

König x AFAB!reader

Contains: predator/pray kink, 18+ things 👀crying kink, oral, it gives off dubcon/noncon but everything is consensual.

Summary: official part 2 of Playing Prey so if you haven’t read the first one long story short, reader and König have made up a game called ‘Prey’ they both consent to playing and have set rules for themselves, everything is consensual. Believe it or not reader and König have a safe word in place just in case but it’s never been said.

—

König left for his morning run and left you home to do well, whatever. You started by cleaning up the house then sat down watching a show, but really it lead to you scrolling on your phone.

Time had past and you felt you had seen all social media had to offer which lead you to looking through your photos, deleting unusual ones. You swiped through a few until landing on a photo you took just a week ago: König smirking, laying on his back, nude with you on top, you two had just cum and you wanted to take the photo for when he was away, so you had your own special porn. You sighed with a smile feeling yourself heat with the memory of the feeling of him propped up inside you. König always felt so fucking good.

As you reminisced on the photo, right on time, you heard the front door and König’s foot steps in. You smiled and brushed your dirty thoughts aside getting up, walking around the couch.

“König~” you call out walking to the front door and there he stood in his running clothes; a zip up hoodie, now hung open, unzipped even in the cold weather outside.

His under shirt slightly wet with sweat, you couldn’t help but love seeing him sweaty.

“Good run?” You ask innocently but your mind sparked at his mannerisms. Heavy panting, sweat forming and the way his shirt clung to his chest. His smell.

“No. Not nearly what I needed to get my stress out.” He answered while pulling his headphones out of his ears and into the tray next to the door. You knew König had a stressful week with work and training new recruits, so you shook your head in understanding, knowing he exercised to think. Clear his mind of worries or stress.

“Is there anything I could do to help? Maybe run a bath? A massage?” You ask tilting your head to look into his eyes and show your genuine sympathy. König locks eyes with you and steps closer towering over you, so easily for he is taller then anyone else you know.

“Ja. You can help me.” König grabs your jacket off the coat rack, never breaking eye contact, you suddenly feel small and in danger as he pushes the jacket into your chest.

“Run.” He says sternly yet almost a whisper, like if what he’s said is a sin meant for only you to hear.

“S-sorry, what?” Your heart skips a beat registering the word right after your response.

“I said, Run. I won’t be repeating myself.” He said sternly, his voice growl-like. A true monster.

You feel like you couldn’t move fast enough, taking the jacket from his grasp, turning around and running to the back sliding doors. Your heart races faster than time it feels, pounding already from the sudden game play. Prey so suddenly and so early in the day makes it so exciting, so devilishly hot.

You swear you hear König start running at the same time as you, god can’t help you if he has. His strides are massive compared to yours, not to mention his stamina. König was built to be a predator for sure and he knew that.

The fear of him being right behind you causes you to panic more and jump off the-two step-porch that lead into the backyard, you rush across the lawn to the forest. You already feeling your lungs burn from the cold air, it’s so crisp out with a slight fog. It’s freezing, but you could careless. Your temp runs hot from being turned on about the chase, cheek rose tinted and nose slightly too.

König actually did chase you to the back door, only he paused watching you jump from the porch and off into the woods, he smirked and felt the burn in his chest run down his spine to his cock just watching you sprint. Like a fresh doe who’s finally found her legs while running from a beast. He slipped on his sniper hood, breathing in the predator he is, his eyes heavy with desire. The desire to chase and devour, the feeling of taking you and ruining you, the thought made him radiate heat. His teeth clenched together. He wants you to spill your insides all over his cock, while you whimper and plead for his mercy. Which will not come easily.

You rush yourself not stoping you have to push yourself, your breath is heavy but you mustn’t give him you so easily.

‘He didn’t say a time’ you thought.

‘Is he behind me?’ You thought more ‘I can’t hear him’ you took a quick second to look over your shoulder and nothing only trees and a distant house. This kind of calms you, but still keeping up your run. You break from the straight path going right leading to a heavily wooded area and down a small hill. The paths were sometimes big enough for a car to drive on and others were just enough for one person to walk, those are the ones you chose most of the time or you’d make your own path. The paths were out of view or so you hoped. There was a couple big rocks; you knew were there, but so did he.

‘only a short pause here.’ You thought.

You crouch down finally putting your jacket on, you honestly forgot you were holding it. You chose the wrong day to wear a tank top, inside the house you had the heat on but out in the forest seemed to be freezing even mid day like this, the sun still wasn’t hot enough to warm it.

You got up slowly looking around and moved out of the rocks, deeper into the forest, a path you had taken before but, deciding to switch up and go farther left, you slowed on running and just kept a steady pace, your breathing was catching up even though your heart still pounding.

König always seemed to know where you were even when you had lost yourself in the forest he knew. He knows.

You hear leafs rustling making you squat behind a tree quickly and looking in the direction of the sounds.

‘There’s no way already?’ You think, but it’s simply the wind moving fallen leafs then a bigger gust shaking the leafs that have yet to fall. You swallow hard being a bit scared, embarrassed that the wind made you think you’d been caught but König was good like that and quiet, you’d never know unless he wanted you to.

You get up and start walking but it turns to a jog then run as your mind races. He could be close, he could’ve already spotted you, now playing with your own mind, you feel the fear of the game prey, but also the excitement, your pussy heats and starts softly coating itself.

You find a couple trees and bushes you haven’t seen before squatting behind them, you put one knee on the ground, ready to sprint if needed.

You began slowing your breathing once more, closing your eyes to ease your mind, resting your legs as they have began to slightly sting from your running up and down hills and carving your own paths in this forest.

You had gotten good with covering your tracks, not stepping on twigs and if you noticed mud or soft ground you tried avoiding it or covering your foot prints.

You open your eyes looking around and where you sat wasn’t very open and actually great coverage from all angles.

You wait a while; thinking of how scared and unprepared yet, of how hot and bothered you felt. The feeling filled your gut with mixed emotions but your heart fluttered with desire and your mind buzzed with survival instinct.

You stayed in place listening, hoping you wouldn’t be found.

You slowly moved out of your spot after some time had past in silence.

You took light steps away watching the leafs under you crush quietly you hope they don’t tell König where you are. You keep up a nice stride through the forest keeping your head on a swivel. You see a place up ahead that seems out of sight and a good area to just sit for awhile. The closer you get to the area with two overgrown bushes and a couple trees you realize it’s kind of a small place to sit behind the bush against the tree and when you do your head pokes out right above the bush.

Sigh.

You start getting up using the tree to steady yourself as you step out of the spot. Sounds of moving make you turn around quickly.

‘Please no I’m doing so good’ you think.

looking in the open, you spot the thing making noise.

‘König?!’ You think but you realize.

A real Deer, eating something off the ground and you slowly start to back up as it lifts his head up to look at you. It’s antlers taller the König perhaps, you couldn’t really tell while slowly walking back from it, its fur was dark brown and seeing it was kind of magical.

‘I hope it’s friendly enough to just leave’ you think not really knowing if they were violent seeing you in their home.

Your back bumps against something hard making you gasp loudly which makes the Deer turn and run away. You turn quickly, heart pounding and its rock… a start of a cave that seemed rather deep.

‘I think that might be too far… tooo scary.” You thought to yourself.

You hear the sound of something approaching and your heart still quick with all the jump scares so you decide to start running, heavy breath and your mind wonders if it was dumb to not hide in the cave. You try and clear your mind and keep your eyes on lookout and your pace conserved.

You hear something… maybe the leafs under your feet? The sound of foot steps? Another deer? You look back keeping your jog up, just over your shoulder, you see him.

König is maybe 10 feet away running towards you, seeing this you start spiriting harder then before you push yourself to your full speed even though it feels like he’s running only at half his full speed and he’s closing the gap.

You feel your chest heat in excitement and a slight fear but just seeing him desire took over. You see a clearing up ahead and decide to pass it but you think:

‘Maybe I can trick him’ you look back and he’s so close. His foot steps are so loud behind you, you feel like it’s a whole heard following you, you’re panting heavy now and your horny thoughts make you wanna lay down and get your pussy mauled already. You know with how long he’s been running and searching for you he was hungry for you; after the week he’s had he’s ready to tear you apart, become the animal he is out there but inside you.

You reach the clearing and turn as if you were taking it left speeding up and then cutting down a path on the right you knew there was a heavily wooded path you could get lost in; you hear a slide followed by a crash and his hand nearly grabbed your back missing you. Looking over your shoulder once more, König had tried keeping up with you and turned on the lose dirt at full speed and slipped slightly his knee and hands catching his fall it didn’t stop him much from getting up and running again. You took the couple seconds to get lost in the trees and you finally found another path switching up and you turn around no sight of him.

‘I have to keep going. König must be pissed at falling’ you think.

You run some more and turn around once again looking around, he’s not there.

‘He’s slowed down?” You think and once more you look over your shoulder and with a thud you knock into him. König’s so strong he barely budged. His hands wrap around your upper arms squeezing you tightly to lock you in place.

You thrash around screaming out of fear and shock. You try ripping away but he’s got you tight.

“Let me go!” You holler.

Your eyes wide and staring at the masked man.

‘how did he get in front, how didn’t I hear him.’

he truly struck fear in you at this moment your heart felt like it could’ve exploded from its rate. You tried once again pushing off him or trying to; he just pulled you closer, so close his eyes felt like knifes and his hands are so tight he’ll make your arms bruise. His chest heaving up and down you can hear his breath deep in his chest. You feel your legs shake and your pussy begs for him.

“You almost had me” his voice raspy his accent thickly dripped. “Too bad Meine Maus, Meine Doe is so slow…” he teased slowly with a hidden smirk. You thrash and squirm hoping to get lose but he chuckles at your attempt. König starts to push you to walk backward.

“You’re so small out in these big woods I almost lost track of you…” he pricks you up bringing you eye level, your feet dangle and he makes holding you look so easy. “but when you stood at the cave entrance I knew there was a percentage you’d run away.” König chuckles to himself “I still waited in the corner. In the shadows of the cave hoping you’d step in… so innocently” you could practically hear him lick his lips and you knew under that hood he had a devilish grin.

“Please~” you beg not to be let go but for him to take you, for him to ravish your body.

“Please? You beg for mercy but I will not show you any.” He then takes you closer to his body making you wrap your legs around his waist as he drops to the floor which makes you lay on the ground.

König unzipping your jacket, ripping your tank off exposing your bare chest and his mouth immediately takes mouthfuls of your soft skin in his mouth making your back arch off the ground, rolling his tongue over your sensitive nipples, your mouth goes slack and you gasp in pleasure. His mouth works little red and purple bruises on your chest.

König’s hands are working on pulling off your pants and once they’re thrown to the side he can’t help himself from sitting back on his knees and watch himself peel your wet panties off, the way that there is a tiny wet spot on them really makes his cock twitch he thinks to himself ‘she smells of heat.’ You look down at him your breathing labored you catch König in a desired daze as he throws your panties to the side.

You take this opportunity to roll to all fours and make a run for it, you feel your adrenaline rush getting two feet on the ground, nude with only shoes on and everything slows when you feel a heavy hand on your ankle yanking you back tripping you to fall and König climbs on you pinning you down.

“Stop!” You scream out but you really mean don’t stop keep going, all the way. Please.

He pulls his hard cock out his breath is heavy and he pushes in you all the way; making himself whimper/grunt.

“Shut up!” He says raspy through tightened teeth.

“Fuck~” he whispers, thrusting hard; his thrusts make slap sounds between you two, your gasp and soft whimpers drive him to keep going hard and fast, his cock kinda stings from stretching you so fast which makes you whimper and stifle a moan. König reaches up from your hip grabbing a handful of your tit squeezing tight. After a couple blissful minutes or so the sting inside you slowly replaces with one of the best feelings, you tilt your head back, your eyes rolling back, he’s done it. He’s fucked your orgasm out of you in minutes, your walls start pulsing and milking his huge cock.

König’s never been so rough, his hands are holding you so tightly his cock is relentless in your soft warm cunt. He bites his lip and can’t help but moan out whimpering at every pulse, your pussy clenches in rhythm as he chases his own orgasm, you come down and slowly feel yourself becoming so over sensitive you whimper and whine “please!” Tears softly leak but your cunt leaks more as chills spread over your body and König continues just fucking his heart out he curls his back in towards you and he feels that familiar feeling crawling in his core; his balls slapping your ass at a steady pace.

König leans his chest on thrusting as much as he can fit in you, over and over. His mask slightly covers your face as he leans in and he licks your jaw then biting your neck a bit hard still panting hot air on you. He holds your skin in his mouth like it’s his last meal.

Hello feels his core burning and his knees slightly sting while digging into the ground. He pushes up to get a full picture in sight of your body jolting with every thrust.

“You’re crying so pretty for me… my sweet doe” he grunts out in between thrusts. You feel your body building another orgasm and your heart pounds and your chest burns and sweat sticks to both you and König. He suddenly loses rhythm in his thrust making you realize he’s almost done. His body is flexing tight his legs locking in place, his ass tight.

“Wait Im gonna cum again” you beg for just a few more thrusts but with the sound of your cries it has König spilling his loads inside you, hot streams of cum puddle in you and out of you as he still tries to thrust, his mouth hung open slack from the feeling of his orgasm his eyes rolled back and his body shook with tingles.

He tries to continue, but ends up pausing, catching his breath; he slides his cock out slowly. He’s panting so hard. You bite your lip looking at him feeling your orgasm at the edge slowly fade back slightly and all you want is to get that last orgasm and König wants nothing more than to give it to you.

König pushes your legs up to lay on your lower tummy then picks up his hood to expose his mouth and latches his mouth on your cunt rolling his tongue and sucking at your clit making you moan out so loud you’re sure you heard birds fly from their nests.

He laps at your clit as his fingers find their way into your pussy fucking you just as fast as his cock. König moans/whimpers at your sweet taste it makes him slightly suck harder. You feel your body shake and flex causing you to shut your eyes tight. Your cunt starts squirting and contracting pushing König’s fingers out and your orgasm hits so hard you see stars; it’s brain numbing.

König rides out your orgasm by licking a few stripes up and down then a few just to clean you up. And to taste you more. He sit back on his knees and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand then pulling his hood down over his mouth once more. You stay there catching your breath and also coming back down to earth. König’s never felt so much stress leave him at once: seeing you withered away on the forest flood.

“Is my Doe spent?” He smirks feeling himself slightly tired.

You softly nod your head slightly and laugh softly. He chuckles and gets up dusting himself off then tucking his cock back in his bottoms. König grabs your clothes in one hand then picking you up carrying you home like a toddler who’s fallen asleep in the car.

Thank you so very much for reading! I hope this is a good part 2! Please leave a comment I love reading them and if you reblog I love the captions! 🙏

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ataraxiaspainting · 4 months

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Careless Whisper.

Yan Gojo x F Reader.

Synopsis: After a long game of playing hard to get, Satoru finally gets you to go on a date with him. But you didn’t expect him to choose a farmer’s market of all places for it to happen.

Warnings: Yandere themes, threats of kidnapping, manipulation, and stalking.

Continuation of There is an Uproar.

Word Count: 1.6k.

Ten Songs Like This Piece:

This Could Be Us by Rae Sremmurd

Get Up by NewJeans

Supermassive Black Hole by Muse

Bathroom by Montell Fish

Hotel by Montell Fish

Money Trees by Kendrick Lamar (feat. Jay Rock)

After Hours by The Weeknd

Government Hooker by Lady Gaga

Do I Wanna Know? by Arctic Monkeys

The Walls by Chase Atlantic

“You’re killing me; don’t you see that you’re the winner of the game?” – Ben��t, Killing Eve

*~*~*~*

You hold onto the basket like a lifeline.

You grasp the handle so tightly it leaves a mark on your palm and the inner parts of your fingers, and you can practically feel splinters impaling them.

They say the devil takes on many forms, and if it were said that the devil could take the form of a white-haired man with sunglasses in whatever religious texts you were given in your childhood, you would believe that without question.

The identity of whoever or whatever forced you on this little outing is not human. You know this. He can’t be. If he is, your view of humanity will decrease tenfold from where it once was.

Should you pray to all the higher powers and heavens above that he is or is not?

“Come on, let’s get moving!” They say monsters speak in either honeyed, calm, and sweet voices or grimy and croaky ones; but this one is neither. “I kinda want to pet a chicken.”

*~*~*~*

“There’s my girlie!”

You were not surprised in the slightest when Satoru pulled up to your door with a Rolls-Royce. At the sight and the called-out nickname, you even roll your eyes and cross your arms, much to the driver’s amusement. The car is adorned with lamb's wool carpets, embellished with stunning wood and milled aluminum accents, and encased in box grain leather. Only the highest quality materials for the all-high and mighty Satoru Gojo. It is the topmost privilege for a mere mortal like you to even see it.

“You ready?” As you ever will be.

“Yeah.” Your response is quick and to the point. “You still haven’t even told me where we are going for this… date.”

The smirk that appears on his face instantly gives you the impulse to slap it off. But he is stronger, and will most likely not let you, because he is the one in control and not you. So, as he beckons you closer, you close the car door behind you and sit down on the leather seat. The drive to hit him still stands for as long as you anticipated. You just look out the window and hope it goes away.

It is nice outside. Though if Satoru’s foot was not on the peddle, you would have liked it more.

It’s spring now. The grass is bright green and tall, and you could swear that you can smell it. Tiny circles of flowers are there now and then. Dandelions and daffodils mostly. You could count them if Satoru was not driving so damn fast you think he is speeding.

He put your purse and phone in the back seat because, of course, he would want no distractions to stop you from paying attention to him.

He starts talking about how nice your dress looks and how happy he is to have you as his girlfriend.

You want to puke.

It would take at least two weeks for the smell to go away. He would have to clean it up because you would refuse to. Any damage done to his ego no matter how small is a win in your book.

You could picture it now. Satoru, long plastic gloves on his hands and wearing an apron, scrubbing the expensive carpet stained with bile and looking disgusted with you. Maybe he would give up on you then.

You almost laugh at the thought but decide against it when he starts talking with a smile that does not exactly reach his eyes.

*~*~*~*

He is tailing behind you like a grim reaper.

The black turtleneck he is wearing you suppose could count as a cloak. His face is white enough to be a skull, his hair helping you see it in your mind. All the expectations he has for you could be considered a guillotine’s blade that is ready to be let loose at any moment. Maybe a scythe. Don’t lose your head. That is what you keep telling yourself as you go down the aisles of sewn aprons and freshly baked bread and chickens wandering not too far off from the butcher’s cutting board. Don’t lose your head.

So, you keep walking to not be the victim of Satoru’s wrath.

“They’re so cute!” He exclaims, bending down to get a better look at the rabbits that are trapped within the confines of the barbed fence. “I just want to take one home! It would be like having another you around!”

His cooing makes you want to stab your eardrums out with the plastic fork you were given along with a free sample of chicken pot pie.

But you can’t ignore him either, he yearns for your responses like an addict.

“I’m not a rabbit.” You roll your eyes. Satoru responds by turning his head at you and then turning it again to make a visibly confused expression. “I’m a human. Not a pet. Not something to… lock up.” As his countenance turns somber and a hint of amusement lingers, the playful aura dissipates. Your breathing hastens, and your heart races. Perhaps voicing your thoughts was an ill-advised choice. Maybe an alternate utterance would have been wiser. Any alternative, for that expression, is one you wish to never witness again.

As you struggle to catch your breath, Satoru's steady grip on your shoulder brings a faint awareness to your hyperventilation. He calls out your name repeatedly, trying to reach through the haze of tears in your eyes. However, his words offer no solace or relief.

“Come on! Of course, you are.”

Maybe you will puke after all. But not on purpose like you originally intended.

His smile feels like a stab to the chest. Everything he does feels that way.

“...What do you mean?” What exactly does he have planned for you?

How far back do they go? Days, months, years, decades?

“You’ll see. You’ll like them, I know you will.” His hand clasps over your free one like a noose. “Either when you first know them or further down the line. I’ll be with you every step of the way no matter what you think. But just know I only have your best intentions at heart, okay? I can promise you that at least.”

“...Mmhmm. Let’s just… get moving.” Once again, you are off within a labyrinth of stalls.

You liked farmer’s markets during the warmer months, with your family and friends during school breaks and vacation times. Is that why he chose this place? Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe he also likes them. However, you cannot process the words Satoru and farmer’s market in the same sentence.

You pictured him bringing you to some nightclub and forcing you to dance under disco lights and loud music until you nearly faint from exhaustion. As much as you don’t want to admit it, maybe this is the better option.

You can’t imagine any other option. It could be worse. Those threats of his can easily become true, he could just lock you up in his penthouse and refuse to let you leave.

So, you don’t complain. You don’t want Satoru to get upset, even if you haven’t seen him that way.

“We’ll eventually move in together. Get married further down the line. Maybe have a kid or two, if we are really up to it, though I don’t mind if it is just the two of us.”

For once, you hope Satoru chooses his initial thought. You don’t want to bring any child into this hell.

“Romantic, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

His finger traces the bridge of your nose downward and the tip of it presses on its end.

“Boop!”

“Sigh…”

He does it again.

“So cute…”

“Let’s just continue.” You try so hard not to seethe. “I heard at this specific market they have good lentil soup. Focaccia too. Let’s go.”

He nods.

“Okay! We’re off!”

There is no escape, is there?

“It should be by the coffee stalls if I remember correctly.” You don’t get to finish because of course Satoru found a brand new interest to fixate on.

Aprons. Specifically, the pink lacy one that he is holding gently like a baby. “[First]! Look! You should wear it. It suits you!”

You shake your head immediately. To this, Satoru frowns. You’re hungry after being hauled around from stall to stall for the past hour or so. Can’t he understand that?

He holds the apron up closer to your face.

You turn away from it. Satoru only puts it closer. He really can be stubborn. That is what got you in this situation in the first place. As stubborn as you sometimes are, you can hardly compare to him. But that is with most things.

Money, power, influence, he will always have more than you will, won’t he? Damn it. No escape. Not from him.

Not from him.

But you can try, can’t you? You can at least try. “Come on! It would look so cute on you.” You shake your head. His frown only deepens and he sighs.

Then he shoots you a look again. The look demanding of you to be good or else. The look that gets you to obey him every time he uses it. Every time he puts his foot down.

Don’t lose your head.

Evade the blade.

“Good,” He says, handing you the apron with the smile you unsurprisingly prefer over the hellish expression he just showed you. “Go.”

You do.

Damn it. As long as Satoru keeps toying with you, you won’t ever be able to find peace. No escape. Damn it.

You slip the apron on as he watches, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

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mediumgayitalian · 2 months

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As soon as they come off the track, things get messy. Both boys are covered in dirt and grime, striped with grease from the broken wheels, bleeding sluggishly from various scraps. Sherman has his non-flailing hand clamped to an oozing wound on the side of his neck, and Will is limping.

“—and I cannot fucking believe you, Solace! All I asked for was effort!”

“Oh, forgive me,” Will says sarcastically, finally close enough to hear. “In the hustle and bustle of being shot at, I made a couple errors.”

“That gonna be your attitude in battle? ‘Oh, sorry, there was a monster chasing me so I lost all focus —’”

“Battles are not usually fought on a chariot going a hundred fucking miles per hour!”

“That’s no excuse! You need to be —”

“What, Sherman, fucking what? What indisputable flaw do I have, oh great one, that needs to be so desperately remedied?”

It’s startling when Will’s composure cracks. When he goes from bitey and sarcastic, eye-rolling from his usual distance, to right in Sherman’s face. It’s eerie to see him at his full height, no slouching, reminding anyone watching that yeah, actually, their laidback medic is six-two, strong, capable, in more ways than what they’re used to.

Sherman, in usual Ares kid fashion, doesn’t even flinch.

“Your reflexes, for starters,” he says coolly. “No matter what you do, Solace, you’re always one second too fucking late.”

A collective gasp ricochets through the gathered campers. The tension rackets up so rapidly that Nico coughs, lungs suddenly constricted. Will rears back so violently Nico is half-convinced Sherman actual punched him.

Sherman, for his part, seems to realise he’s crossed some kind of line. The cold look on his face twists into a scowl, uncomfortable and apologetic at once. “Look, Will, I just mean —”

“You don’t get to say that to me.”

Will’s quiet voice seems to echo through the entirety of the valley, cutting through laboured breathing of charioteers, pegasus neighing, even the crashing of the waves in the distant shore — everything goes silent.

Nico likes to think he knows Will pretty well. He knows what he sounds like when he’s giggly, watching his siblings argue about nothing; when he’s excitable, rambling about his newest obsession; when he can’t choose between amused and stern at whatever dumb thing Nico has gotten himself into. He knows what he sounds like when he’s exhausted, too, overworked and done with everything; when he’s annoyed, when he’s hurt and sad.

But he’s never heard Will sound so dangerous.

“Of all people.” His words are articulated, deliberate. The usual warmth of his eyes is gone. He’s completely still in a way me never is outside of surgery — no shaking in his perpetually trembling hands, no bounce to his curls, none of the constant energy that seems to constantly exude off him. Still, cold. Icy. “You do not get to talk to me about being one second to late.”

Sherman looks stricken. Guilt is written across each of his features, and for a second he steps back — as if afraid.

“Will, I —”

The son of Apollo turns without another word, striding over to the distant tree line and disappearing into the woods. No one chases after him.

No one even moves.

#THIS IS JUST A WIP ITS NOT EVEN CLOSE TO DONE #but i’m proud of it so #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #nico di angelo #will solace #nico di angelo & will solace #nico di angelo/will solace #will solace angst #solangelo #nico/will #will/nico #longpost #my writing #fic

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crushedbyhyperbole · 1 month

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Cherry Pie Kiss

Slice Three

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: You're cornered and chased by Bartholomew's minions. Separated from Sam and Cas, you and Dean make a run for it. Lust finds you both when you're finally safe. Dean rocks your world.

Words: 3.4k

A/N: This is smutty part 3 of what's now looking like a longer series since I've settled on a cute, fluffy and smutty part 4. At this point I don't think I'll ever be sated in my need for this man but Im so not sorry about it 😂

I do hope you enjoy part 3. If you haven't read parts 1 and 2 check out the Cherry Pie Kiss Masterlist. As always, I value your comments and feedback. Drop a dime and let me know what you think.

Warnings: Smut. Canon-typical action/adventure. Running for your lives. Bit of angst.

*** 18+ Minors Do Not Read or Interact ***

Dean Winchester. You hate him. His stubbornness and stoic grace. His tenacity and faith that, no matter what, you guys will get it done if you stick together. The way his eyes pierce you down to your soul when he stares. At least that’s what you try to tell yourself, hoping that others will believe it too. Truth is, you’re just as stubborn as he is, holding onto this façade when hatred is so far from what you feel.

Dean sits behind Baby’s wheel, having stormed away from the Gas’n’Sip in frustration. His eyes follow your every move and your body language as you and Sam try to convince Cas, for the umpteenth time, to come with you. Dean had taken it personally when Cas had refused, and after several attempts at reasoning, bargaining, and begging, Dean had given up, choosing to sit out any further attempts at persuasion.

You look over at the black Impala with its radiant chrome and glossy darkness. The man inside looks away out to road not wanting the hurt, so plain on his face, to be seen.

“I’ll be back in a sec,” you say to Sam, touching his forearm gently as he continues to reason with the fallen Angel.

You feel compelled to at least try to comfort Dean. Since you two had talked that night in the dingy room-only motel out in Crocker, you had maintained a stable yet strained connection. You had still been pissed at him for using you and Sam as bait so you had sent him back to his room with another kiss and the promise of “when I’m ready”. Since then, you two had never been alone for more than a few minutes; there was always Sam, or witnesses, or monsters.

Dean’s head snaps your way when you pull the door open, his face schooled into that smooth mask he wears when he’s hurt but unwilling to be vulnerable. Cas’s decision has really hit him hard.

Sliding in the passenger side, you angle yourself towards him and reach to take one of his hands which is picking at the fingernails of his other. Ordinarily, you wouldn’t risk such a gesture but with Sam a couple of hundred meters away and the height of the dash to obscure it, you’re not worried.

Dean allows the contact, his head hanging. “Cas made his choice.” His voice is low and gravelly with emotion.

“Doesn’t mean he can’t change his mind.” You reason, trying not to throw fuel on the fire.

“He knows where I am if he does.” He states, matter of fact. “I’m not wasting another breath on him.”

“He’s your best friend.”

“You’re my best friend.” Dean looks at you and squeezes your hand which is entwined with his, resting on his thigh. “You and Sam.”

“I’m just some girl you want to fuck.” You chuckle, and Deans lips quirk a subtle smirk briefly before he replies.

The words don’t come out, however. Dean catches movement at the side of the Gas’N’Sip, and he drops your hand to turn over the engine, thrusting the heel of his other hand on Baby’s horn as he does so.

Sam and Cas look in your direction and then see the four figures walking quickly and with purpose, coming between them and the Impala. Shit! Angels. Bartholomew’s minions, no doubt. How have they found you again?

“Son of a bitch!” Dean hisses, cranking the car into drive, kicking up stones in the gravel lot as the wheels spin, gaining traction to take you to Sam and Cas.

You fumble your seatbelt, sliding on the seat and right into Dean with a grunt as he swerves to avoid a blacked-out Escalade that grinds to a halt between you and your friends.

Sam and Cas are already on the move, running fast towards the gold Lincoln pimpmobile Cas had somehow acquired, Sam waving Dean off as they scramble into the car and peel out of the lot before the Angels could reach them. You, however, are stuck. With the Escalade and four fallen angels between you and the lot exit, Dean turns the wheel, locking it out and put his foot on the gas, spinning the car around with an horrific noise from the tyres. At the back of the lot is a chainlink fence with a gate that leads to a dirt road which split in two, one branch heading to the highway, the other into scrubland that precedes a dense-looking woodland. You can lose them in the trees.

Dean winces as he ploughs baby through the chainlink gate, lamenting the damage that is sure to be done, and turns the car towards the highway.

“We can lose them in the trees,” you cry, point to the woods.

“Baby doesn’t have the ground clearance for it,” Dean says roughly, manoeuvring the car through a side-on skid with the heel of his hand on the wheel and his other hand gripping the side of the seat to stop himself from sliding as the car spins. Once straight, he slams his food on the gas and burns rubber onto the tarmac, heading in the opposite direction to Sam and Cas.

You know he’s right about the car. The Escalade is 4x4 and sits high which gives it the advantage off road in the woods when the trail inevitably turns to a glorified hiking path. You’re not even sure the highway is a much better option given that Baby is an older, classic car, but you know Dean keeps her in tip-top shape and she’s got a lot of power under her hood. That being said, the Escalade could be seen in the rearview, weaving through traffic to catch up to you.

The shrill ring of your phone makes you jump as you try to focus on the road and on what’s behind. You need to be a second set of eyes for Dean while he’s pushing Baby to create some distance from the Escalade.

“Hey, Sam!” You sigh with relief, reading his name on your display, putting him on speaker.

“This is Castiel,” the former Angel’s flat tone carries from the phone. “Sam is driving. He said I’m too slow.”

You grin big. That’s a classic Winchester brother thing to do. From the corner of your eye you see Dean smirk.

“Just tell them we’re headed west and haven’t been followed.” Sam sighed with mild frustration.

“Damn it’s good to hear your voice, Sammy!” Dean spoke loudly in that extra deep tone he uses when he is running on adrenalin. You know he left Cas out because he is still hurt, but you also know he’s glad Cas is safe too.

“We’re headed in the opposite direction,” you explain. “The vehicle followed us and we’re trying to shake them but they’re keeping up.”

“Pretty soon we’ll run out of traffic, and on the open road we’ll never lose them.” Dean frowns as he hunts in the rearview for your pursuers.

“Maybe you can head into the wilderness, hole up and set traps.” Sam offers. “We can turn around and try to catch up.”

“No!” Dean snaps. “You’re both safe. I want you to stay that way. Get someplace and lay low. We’ll get this done and I’ll call you, ok?”

“Dean…” Cas begins to speak but Dean is having none of it.

“I said No! Okay? For once, just do what I say. We’ve got this.”

You hang up the phone without waiting for a response. You can see how worked up Dean is, his brain running overtime as he tries to figure out a plan while he’s trying to evade Bartholomew’s lackies on a road full of other cars.

The satellite map on your phone shows a complex set of junctions several miles up ahead where this road meets and crosses with two interstates, branching off in multiple places to service a small city surrounded by a cluster of smaller towns. It looks promising and Dean agrees.

The junction of the roads has raised on and off ramps that weave in and around the support structures of the main interstate, with frontage roads servicing the branches at intervals. Traffic is heavy and Dean follows a newer model black Cady onto the interstate by one of the on-ramps, only to cut across the lanes harshly and slip onto a skewed off-ramp, hoping the Escalade will follow the newer Cady. Slowing down at the end of the off-ramp, he turns to take the frontage road in the opposite direction, heading slowly up the on-ramp for the interstate carriage way going back in the direction from which you had come, so as not to rejoin too soon and be spotted on the other side.

You check all around as soon as you crest the on-ramp back onto the road, praying you don’t see the black government-style vehicle. Dean doesn’t wait to find out, he puts his foot down and puts a few eighteen wheelers between you and whatever is behind you.

“I think we’re clear,” you say after about fifteen minutes of hypervigilance.

“Don’t jinx it, sweetheart.” Dean keeps his eyes on the road, the wheel clasped in two white-knuckled fists.

Switching from the interstate to a smaller road and then to another road but still taking you away from where Sam and Cas had headed, Dean starts to relax. He chances a look at you, to find you looking right back. The tension in his neck and jaw haven’t melted away yet but he doesn’t have that hard look of focused fury that he usually does when in fight or flight mode. He doesn’t say anything and neither do you, but the glances between you become more frequent as though you’re both checking on each other to make sure the other is okay, needing to visually check each time.

A sign by the side of the road identifies the beautiful landscape to your left as Black Water Natural Forest, and with the sun beginning to set behind the mountains in the distance, it seems a good place to wait out the sunset. You point to the sign and Deans nods. He doesn’t argue, knowing you need a place to park-up off road away from prying eyes to get your bearings and make a plan to meet up with your friends.

As the road gets narrower and the trees get more dense, Dean slows the car, casting furtive glances at you. It’s making your skin burn, the way he looks at you now, with that hunger in his eyes. You feel it too. Weeks of tension built between you, and todays threat to your lives now culminating in a deep need for some kind of release. You lick your lips, breathing shallow and quick as you try to regain your composure, but Dean isn’t doing much better. You look at him fully and he all but moans when he sees the look in your eye.

A turn off presents itself that leads to a small muddy lot where hikers can park their cars when they venture out into the forest. Dean brings Baby to a stop so hard your seatbelt catches you, then he yanks it into park and fumbles for the seal lever. You unclip your belt as the front seat slides back fully and he reaches for you, helping you straddle his lap.

You waste no time, kissing him fervently as you unbutton your shirt while he tries to push it from your shoulders before it’s open. Breaths are gasps released between kisses, tongues touching, tasting and tempting more passion, and you succumb to the frenzy of heat that’s born of your need to feel something other than fear. Your need to feel him.

You’re both a mess of fumbling hands and sloppy kisses as clothes are shucked and skin exposed. You try to stand, your legs either side of his as you unbutton your jeans and he unclasps his belt.

The loud sound of the Impala’s horn echoes out amongst the trees, startling birds so they take wing and both of you into stillness and silence.

Dean looks at you with panic but then grins and laughs, reaching to tug your jeans down your legs until they’re bunched up around your boots.

It’s awkward but you can still straddle him like this and, as you kneel back onto the black leather seat, he lifts his hips to grind himself impatiently against you. The desperation in your eyes is matched by the eagerness in his. He is rapt, eyes absorbing the sights and sounds of your body and of your pleasure as you grind yourself against him. Your slicked pussy drenching his cock as you slide yourself along his length but deny him entry just when his tip catches at your entrance.

Dean fondles your breasts, trailing open-mouthed kisses across your skin until he reaches your hardening peaks. His kisses become more suckling then, nibbling them and flicking them firmly with his tongue until you’re almost shaking above him.

“You ready for me?” You ask, breathless.

“Sweetheart,” he treats you to his classic sultry smirk, “I’ve been ready for you since you moved in.”

You grin, knowing he’s been jonesing for you for that long. Truth be told, you’d wanted him for longer but the hate you made yourself feel for him was an adequate distraction from it.

Biting your lip, you reach between you, taking his wet shaft in hand and positioning it at your entrance. Your eyes meet as you begin to skink down on him, inching down in a shallow rocking motion with Dean stroking your hips and waist as you work at it. He resists the urge to thrust up into you at first, allowing you to get accustomed to him.

When you bottom him out, he presses down on your hips firmly, lifting his just enough to give you a deep pleasurable pressure that has you groaning and your eyes rolling back.

You are tight despite being very wet, and the way you squeeze him has him twitching heavily against your walls.

“Fuck…” he groans as you begin to move, leaning back slightly so he hits all the right spots inside you.

“I’m not going to last long,” you laugh breathily.

“No problem,” Dean says, his hands gripping your hips hard, helping you ride him a little faster now. “We’ll get you for two.”

He doesn’t even have to reach down to stroke your clit, you come all by yourself, grinding on him with a sexy roll of your hips he knows should be good for you, your clit rubbing against his soft hair. He can feel you spasming and clenching around him and it feels like heaven, even better than warm cherry pie hitting his taste buds.

“You feel freaking amazing.” He growls, pulling you forward to suckle on the delicate skin of your neck.

“Right back at’cha,” you sigh against pleasure.

He rolls you to the side, and lays you on your back on the seat, still buried in you to the hilt. Looking down at your heated face, your skin glowing from your orgasm, Dean thinks you are the most beautiful thing he has ever seen, with a possible exception of Baby. Okay, you’re the most beautiful living thing he’s ever seen.

Looking up at Dean, his brow creased in concentration, his eyes dark with lust, you don’t think you have ever been turned on by anyone as much as this man. Damn, he’s hot! Riding the adrenaline of the chase, you had been desperate for an outlet. Now that is out of your mind, you lose yourself in the man between your thighs, you’re focused solely on the feeling of him buried deep, and the rising tide of pleasure. The windows steam up as you grind and roll your bodies together, and you think you might combust from the heat of him.

When he meets and holds your gaze, your heart almost stops. There you see more than just lust, more than just the passion between you. It’s deep and hidden, secret almost, and it surfaces as affection that softens his eyes. You reach up to stroke his face as his grinding hips keep their measured pace and he leans into your touch, kissing the palm of your hand, closing his eyes with a tender sigh.

His vulnerability in that moment lances electricity to your core and you spasm powerfully around him. His eyes flash open and he sees you’re close again but he doesn’t grin cockily like he might have done earlier, instead he leans down to kiss you, leaning his forehead on yours as you grip the back of his neck and look into his gorgeous eyes. With your other hand on his hip, sliding round to his ass you guide the speed and depth of his thrusts and you roll your hips to meet his.

As you guide him to slow down he thinks he’ll lose the pleasure he’s cultivated so far but he can now feel more of you and it’s more intense because it’s slow and prolonged. He almost laughs at how it changes everything and he gasps with surprise when he starts to feel his orgasm coming. He knows he needs to pull out but you hold him on place with your hands and your heels.

“Give me everything,” you moan as you feel him swell. “I need to feel you, nice and deep.”

Dean groans with pleasure watching your eyes sparkle with heat for him.

“I want it,” you almost beg. “Want you.”

He nods, biting his lip as bends to your desire.

Spurred on by your permission, Dean thrusts deeper until he bottoms out, moaning your name as he comes deep inside you. Your walls contract as he fills you, your climax a deep rolling pleasure that courses your whole body. Everything feels so right, he feels right. The way you two fit, the way he makes you feel. It’s like a low-key destiny you’re more than willing to succumb to.

Dean doesn’t just pull out and get off you once you’re both done, he flips you so your lay on his chest. There he holds you and strokes you back and hips, your hair and your face until you lift your head to look at him. Then he smirks cockily and you swat his chest.

“You don’t have to look so smug about it,” you chastise him.

“Hey, I keep my promises,” he says with that trademark smirk playing on his plush lips. “Would’a give you more but we’re kinda on the run here, sweetheart.”

“You can owe me, how ‘bout that?” You push yourself up and try to find your clothes.

He grins at the confirmation that this isn’t just a one-time deal. “Hell yeah! Sign me up.”

You clean up with wipes from your travel bag as Dean calls Sam. You watch the relieved interaction from the front fender of Baby while Dean paces in the dirt a few meters away. You apply some flavoured lip balm to your kiss bruised lips as he works out the logistics of meeting up and what to do about Bartholomew.

After the call, Dean beelines straight for you, sliding his hands around your waist and burying his face in your neck, kissing playfully.

“I take it we’ve got a few hours at least until we can meet Sam and Cas.” You thread your fingers through his messy hair, trailing your fingernails over his scalp which he seems to really like.

“Several.” He says against your delicate skin.

“Whatever are we gonna do to pass the time?” You smile as you picture the pair of you fucking all over his car.

“I can think of a few things,” he surfaces with a hungry look, leaning back in to kiss you.

Your soft lips claim his once more as you melt into his arms, the kiss heated and full of need. Dean kisses you with such force it steals your breath and makes your knees weak, and when he pulls back he looks at you thoughtfully. Licking his lips and tasting you on them, he grins.

“Cherry,” his eyes go to your lips again, “I like it.”

Dean’s talented tongue makes you forget any quip you might have said, as he lifts you onto Baby’s hood and keeps his promise.

#dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean x reader smut #dean winchester fic #supernatural smut #dean winchester fanfic #spn #supernatural dean smut #dean winchester x you #spn fanfic #frenemies to lovers #dean winchester #dean x you #dean winchester fanfiction #cloudy's writing

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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 8 months

Text

Princess

John Winchester x daughter!reader

Requested by anonymous

Synopsis: a few one shots of you growing up with John as your father.

Warnings: mentions of blood, honestly it’s 80% fluff

John was used to fear. He woke up every morning with it, stronger each day it seemed, fear that the fate that had befallen his wife would come to his children. He was used to fear of the dark, and of what was truly hiding in it. He was certainly used to fearing for his life.

But this was a different kind of fear. When the woman that he had gone out with for a while about a year ago knocked on his door, and handed him the smallest baby he’d ever seen, all wrapped up in a pink blanket, John knew a new fear. When that same woman turned on her heel, got in her car, and drove away, that fear turned into panic.

“Hey!” He called out. “You can’t just-“

But the car was gone, and all his shouting had done was startle you awake. The bundle in his hands shifted, and you began to cry.

“Hey, shh,” he rocked you gently from side to side, his attention fully on you. “Don’t cry, princess. It’s going to be ok.”

…

“Hey princess,” John’s voice was thick with exhaustion as he slumped into the motel room. “Why aren’t you asleep?” He spotted his teenage sons splayed out on the two beds, dead asleep.

“I was,” six-year-old you yawned, tugging on John’s leg. He lifted you into his arms, and you continued. “But I waked up, and I wanted to wait for you.”

“Alright,” John collapsed onto the small couch, cradling your head in one hand as he attempted to lean back comfortably on his makeshift bed. “Well, it’s late, so try to get back to sleep alright?”

“Ok,” you yawned again, tucking your head under his chin while he covered the both of you in his jacket.

You were fast asleep within minutes, and your steady breathing and strong heartbeat comforted John as he closed his eyes, trying to erase the vivid memories of the terror he’d seen that night.

“Good night princess,” John gently kissed the top of your head, before finally falling into a deep sleep.

…

John had a tendency to react to fear with sternness. If one of his kids messed up on a hunt, it was just time to train that much harder. If a new monster was found, they stayed up all night, all week if they had to, finding out everything about it. Danger meant that he needed to prepare his kids, and to do that, sometimes he needed to shut off “dad” and turn on “drill sergeant”.

But not tonight. Tonight was…

Different.

“Me and Sammy are gonna stop at the bar for a bit, you going back to the motel?” Dean was eyeing you as he spoke to John.

“Yeah, I’m gonna take her home,” John mumbled.

“Give me a call if you need anything,” John could tell that Dean was stalling, wanting to remain with you but also sensing that John wanted time alone with you.

“I will,” John assured him. “She’s gonna be alright.”

John arrived at the motel with you a few awkwardly silent minutes later. He led you inside, a hand at the small of your back, and he could feel you trembling. Without a word, you stepped into the bathroom and turned on the sink water. John watched as you scrubbed at your hands, and you spend a few minutes in a futile attempt to clean the blood off of them.

Your scrubbing became more desperate, and John jumped up in alarm when you began to sob, scratching frantically at your arms and hands.

“Hey hey, stop that!” John took your hands in his.

“It-it won’t come off,” you sobbed, staring down at your blood-stained arms.

John stared down at you, opening his mouth to speak before closing it again. You looked so small, hunched in on yourself, and so fragile as you cried and rubbed at your arms.

He couldn’t believe he’d thought you were ready for your first hunt. He couldn’t believe he’d taken you out into the world of monsters and demons and expected you to kill them. If Dean had performed that badly on a hunt, John would’ve had him back in basic training in an instant—after severely chewing him out. If Sam had cowered from the werewolf the way you had, John would’ve made him stay up the whole night training, and doubled his shooting practice for the rest of the month.

But right here, right now, looking down at the crying girl in front of him…

He couldn’t. He couldn’t find it in him to scold you, or place a gun in your small hands, or demand that you pick up your machete and practice with it. He couldn’t find it in him to force you to defend yourself, because he never wanted you to have to.

He wanted to defend you. He wanted to protect you from every evil in the world, he didn’t want you to have to protect yourself.

“Commere princess,” John pulled you tightly into his arms, cradling your head like he’d done when you were a baby. “It’s ok. You’re ok.”

“I’m sorry,” you weren’t completely sobbing anymore, but the tears were still flowing, and he felt you take a shaky breath. “I know I screwed it all up.”

“Hey, hey,” John pulled back slightly, brushing your hair from your face and trying not to cringe when he noticed the dried blood plastering it in place. “You shouldn’t have been out there, you weren’t ready.” It was true that you had done abhorrently on the hunt, and John wasn’t going to lie and say otherwise; he hadn’t gone that soft. But he also wasn’t going to blame you, because he blamed himself for this.

“I just, I-I couldn’t remember what to do, and-and I got so scared-“ your breathing was becoming more labored once again, and John took hold of the back of your head, pushing you against him in an attempt to calm you down.

“Shh, princess you’re ok now. You’re safe now, nothing’s gonna happen. I don’t blame you, ok? I don’t. and I’m going to keep you safe, I promise.”

John knew that he was going to have to tighten up on your training if you were going to survive in this crazy world. But for tonight, he was going to turn off his “drill sergeant” and turn on “dad”, because when he saw his little princess almost get killed by a werewolf, he lost all ability to do anything but hold you tight, and shelter you from every danger that he hadn’t been able to shelter the rest of his family from.

…

“Dad?”

A heavy sigh escaped John’s lips as he set his beer bottle down with a clump.

“You should be in bed.”

“Did he really leave? For good?” One look into John’s despair-filled eyes was all the answer you needed.

“Princess, go to bed.”

You stepped up to where John was sitting, and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

“Dad, I’m sorry.”

“I told you to go to bed,” John ordered, but his voice was soft and noncommittal, and you didn’t miss the way his arms came up to wrap around you in return.

Neither of you knew how long you stayed that way, unwilling to let go. But eventually, Dean came out and found you, and he managed to coerce you into letting go of your father and coming to bed, John following just behind.

The three of you slept fitfully that night, but despite that, there was a tiny comfort in knowing that there was some family that would never leave.

…

You hadn’t spoken a word in days. Dean knew why, but he was powerless to bring you out of your own head. He didn’t blame you for how you reacted; you out of all of them had seemed the closest to John, in your own way. No one could calm or comfort you like he could, and vice versa.

But John wasn’t around to comfort you anymore.

“You know,” Dean began softly as he sat down next to you on the motel bed. “Dad was the one who named you.” A smile played on Dean’s face as he reminisced. “When your mom dropped you off with him, she didn’t give him a name or anything. For nearly two weeks, dad carried you around with no idea what to call you. He mostly stuck with a nickname, until one day he stepped away from your cart in the store, and you started crying. Then this little old lady comes up and holds you, calms you down, and when dad tries to take you back she gets all suspicious. She didn’t think you were really dad’s, and so she says ‘well if she really is yours, what’s her name?’ And dad just panics, and he sees this name tag on a passing clerk and he just blurts out the name on it. He yells, ‘Y/N!’ And you just played along, looking right up at him with your big blue eyes and giggling and reaching for him. So the lady gives you back, and Y/N just kinda stuck.”

The room was silent for a long moment, Dean looking down at you while you mulled over his story.

“What was the nickname?” Your whisper surprised Dean.

“What?”

“You said he called me by a nickname for two weeks. What was the nickname.”

At this, a grin spread across Dean’s face.

“He always called you his princess.”

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean and sam #dean winchester x you #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #supernatural dean #the winchesters #winchesters x reader #john winchester #winchester x reader #winchesters x sister #john winchester x reader #john winchester x daughter!reader

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yenqa · 3 months

Text

raindrops

synopsis — after a long celebration for his birthday, jungwon finally lies down. he loves watching movies to relax, but he definitely loves you more.

warnings — crying (because of the movie), 20th century girl 💔💔 (no spoilers other than it being sad), y/n calls jungwon “a heartless monster” as a joke, lmk if theres any more!

pairing — jungwon x gn!reader

wordcount — 540

a/n — happy jungwon day! hopeyou enjoy this fluff <3 also Who told me to watch 20th century girl (me) because im out for you.

“I can’t believe you’re crying right now.”

“This is one of the saddest tragedies to ever exist!”

You had watched the movie at least five times, and you couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down everytime. Jungwon on the other hand, had never watched it before, yet he had a straight face.

“Baby, you’ve seen this three times. You know what’s going to happen.”

After a long exciting day for you and Jungwon. You were happy when he asked you to hang out at his house afterwards. Sitting close to the other you watch the movie “20th Century Girl”.

You scoff, “You are a heartless monster!” Blowing snot into your tissue, you throw it away into the conveniently placed trashcan next to the couch.

Laughing at your antics, his dimples show through his cheeks. Smiling softly at the sight, you let your head lay down on his shoulder.

He looks at you, watching as tears stream down your eyes. Like the raindrops that come onto his car window, he watches as they race endlessly down your cheeks.

His hand comes to your shoulder, gently rubbing it as you scoot impossibly closer to him.

Jungwon can understand why you’re crying. He didn’t know this movie would be so sad, he wouldn't have picked it if he knew.

Paying attention to the movie he can feel tears start to drop from his eyes. Like the water he spills whenever he fills the cup up too much, he wipes them away.

It’s at the end of the movie when you hear a quick sniffle, you look up to see a few tears falling from Jungwon’s eyes.

“Ha! I knew it! I knew you were going to cry.”

He jumps dramatically, quickly wiping his tears, “I did no such thing.”

“Liar! I saw those tears, I heard those sniffles! That’s plain evidence.”

The pout on his face makes you feel a little bad, brushing his slightly wet cheeks with your hands you mutter a small apology.

When you think you’re done wiping his cheeks, you turn back to the screen, laying on his shoulder you watch him scroll through the endless amount of shows and movies. Clicking on one you were both rewatching together.

“I think I’m going to go to sleep, Won. Happy birthday.”

He kisses your head, “Thank you, and go to sleep you had a long day.”

Nodding your head against his shoulders you wrap your hands around his arm. “I love you.” You let out, the words barely even comprehensible.

“I love you more, now go to sleep.”

“No I do,” You argue, he knows your too stubborn to let him win so he gives up.

Jungwon knows he loves you more. Usually, after a fun day out like today he would want to be alone. Not even allowing Jay to come over.

But you came in, like rays of sun after months of snow. You came in and wiped away his tears and his worries.

So, yes. He loves you more.

Your eyes close, snuggling closer to feel his warmth. And as the clock ticks away, you find yourself asleep before you even know it.

It’s after a few minutes when he whispers back, “I love you more than anything.”

And he finally lets himself fall asleep.

perm taglist — @jwnghyuns @ja4hyvn @trsrina @redm4ri @badmuni @yeokii @enhastolemyheart @softpia @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @boyfhee @hanniluvi @teddywonss

yenqa © please do not copy, steal or translate.

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cinnbar-bun · 3 months

Text

The Heartless Giant Pt. 2

Pairing: Crocodile x GN! Royal! Reader

Rating: SFW

Word Count: ~3.2k

A/n: the second part of my contribution the Storyteller AU!

Summary: After a blowout with your brothers, you fulfill your promise to the “giant”. Perhaps there’s more to him than meets the eye.

Notes: GN!Reader, Prisoner!Crocodile (for my Impel Down Croc lovers), implied age gap, Reader is an adult but age is not specified, violence, bad siblings, protective Crocodile, "falling for my father's enemy" teehee

Part 1 here! AO3 link here!

Taglist: @gingernut1314

You ascended up the many levels of the dungeon silently, careful to not allow yourself to be caught going back to your room. You glanced around the hallways and sprinted back to your room, happy to finally be back in the warmth of your private space. Just as you were about to go back to sleep, you heard many voices mumbling and arguing in hushed whispers in the room next to you.

“-do you know what he’ll do?”

“We’re toast. We’ll die.”

“Sh-shut up! Maybe we can go back tomorrow and-”

“Are you crazy?!”

You frowned as you recognized the panicked voices of your older brothers. You removed yourself from your bed and knocked on the door. They gasped and stayed silent, refusing to make a move or even let a sound out. You rolled your eyes and knocked again.

“It’s me, (Y/n). Open the door.”

Within an instant, the door flung open and you were immediately wrapped in the many arms of your three brothers.

“Oh my god- oh my… yer alive!”

“What the hell?”

“Don’t do that again!”

You were taken aback by their worry, removing their hands off of you as you walked into the room and shut the door behind you.

“We need to talk,” you stated, crossing your arms.

Your brothers awkwardly stood around you, regretful and apologetic for their behavior.

“Listen, we’re-”

“I can’t you believe you guys,” you cut the first off. “You guys used me as bait and left me to die alone.”

They clamp their mouths shut at your stern and blunt statement. There was nothing to argue there. They were cowardly and left you. It was only a miracle that the man in the cell held some mercy for you and spared you when he did.

All of you knew that he chose not to kill you tonight. Your third brother held his bandaged hand and winced. You four were lucky to be left alive and in one piece.

“Okay, we admit that,” the second begins. “We were just… playing around.”

“Playing around? Slamming me against the bars? Throwing rocks at him? Are you daft?” You raise your voice at them. The anger and betrayal you felt was bubbling to the surface now. “The fact that he was the one to protect me should tell you everything about this situation!”

“Oh, you’re defending the beast now?” The third matched your tone. “Do you think he really felt bad for you?”

“Considering how you fools were acting, I can only imagine what he felt!” You yell back. “You were close to getting us all killed!”

“He’s a criminal! A stupid ogre! Why are you considering his feelings when he tried to kill us all back then?” The first shouted over you.

“Because at least he learned!” You rage. The volume of your voice catches your brothers off-guard as they freeze in place, their eyes wide and shocked. You clench your fist and shake with an anger you have never felt so strongly until now. “At least he protected me! At least he didn’t throw me to the bars and try to use me as bait or a meat shield! At least he talked to me after and didn’t ignore my cries!”

“Ya think that monster has learned? Ya weren’t there. Ya weren’t there for what he did and what he’s done to us. Father had to have the whole army to even make a scratch on that man. He’s not human. He not’s man. He’s a damn beast,” the second spat.

“You say that, but he was the only one with any humanity in him tonight. What would you have done if he really killed me? Would you tell father the truth about what you did, or would you lie?”

Your brothers remained silent as their eyes flicked between the floor and themselves. The righteous fury within you began to dim as you recognized how low your brothers could sink.

“You won’t even deny it?” You weakly ask. “You wouldn’t admit what you did? You wouldn’t even save me?”

“W-we can try next time-”

“When is next time? When I am dead? When it is too late?” Your eyes begin to water as your voice breaks. The eldest looks down until he steps forward and attempts to embrace you. You shake your head and push him away, refusing to look at them. “No… no, don’t do that. Don’t bother.”

“Listen, we are trying,” he says. “We messed up, badly. We know you probably can never forgive us, but we do love you. We love you a lot… we just got caught up in the heat of the moment.”

“If I can’t even rely on you to defend me in a situation like that, then how do you expect me to trust you?”

The room turned silent, your brothers refusing to look at you as they fidgeted with their fingers or tugged on their pajamas. You huffed and turned away.

“Consider this conversation over. Don’t ever ask another thing from me again,” you spat, retreating back to your room. The heavy aching in your heart finally peaked, and you silently cried into your pillows as your brothers were quietly murmuring their arguments. How could you ever trust them again, knowing what they did to incite the man below? Knowing they would gladly and easily throw you away for their cruel jokes, knowing they would lie to cover up their mistakes?

You wished you could go back in time, back to the day the man nearly pillaged your kingdom. Back to that day to meet him, to understand what it was your brothers thought and felt. Maybe, just maybe, you could have done something for him in order to get him to stop.

But you could not. You know you never could. You could never undo the past. And even if you could, the valuable knowledge you gained from your traveling was a better use of your skills and time. Was that man really worth risking everything for?

Your mind conjured images of him. Those dark eyes… the gold hook… the way the cold metal of that hook felt against your neck as his large hand grasped you like a predator.

He could have killed you.

Could have ended your life before you could even register it.

The thought terrifies you, sends shivers down your body, before you remember how he was careful to never let the sharp tip hurt you. For what reason, you didn’t know. You were the child of the man who imprisoned him in that cell, he would easily have a number of reasons to kill you.

But instead, he held you, protected you, threatened them off. Why?

You sighed and try to brush the man out of your mind. You didn’t need to let your brain conjure up more thoughts and worries right now. You would repay the favor to him when you awoke later, at the very least. It brought you some semblance of comfort after the awful fight you had with your brothers.

—————

It was almost noon when you rose from your bed. Very uncharacteristic of your usual behavior, seeing as you were the one who was often the most prompt and presentable of your siblings. When you went downstairs to eat, you found your brothers at the table. You refused to greet them as you sat in your usual spot, placing your food on your plate.

“Hey, (Y/n),” the second began, whispering to not get the attention of the servants around you. You ignored him, biting into your food as they tried to get your attention.

“Just leave it…”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake-” they hissed under their breath until the large doors to the room swung open, revealing your father. He strode over gracefully, taking a seat at the head of the table.

“Father,” you greeted, and your brothers awkwardly followed after. Your father tilted his head back in acknowledgement while he had his lunch served to him.

“I admit, I was surprised to see you four up this late,” he begins, taking a sip of the drink a maid just poured for him. “Might I inquire what you all were doing?”

“Reading,” you answer quickly.

“Training,” the first brother replies.

“Polishing my weaponry,” the second says.

“Writing,” the third states, carelessly showing off his bandaged hand. Your father raises a brow.

“Why is your hand wrapped?” The third brother sits up straight, stiff as a board.

“Oh, from, uh, you know, training.”

“You just said you were writing,” your father humorlessly corrects.

“The pen is mightier than the sword!” Your brother laughs, trying to continue the lie.

Your father nods, not believing a word but not wanting to continue with this conversation.

“Be as it may, I’m happy you are all here right now,” the king says.

You glance at your brothers and notice they look rather disheveled. The first has bloodshot eyes, nodding along while frequently yawning. The second is refusing to look at anywhere but his plate, picking his food he hardly made a dent in. The third, meanwhile, is nervously fidgeting around.

You huff, remembering that you’re still angry with them and continue to eat. Your father tries to continue the conversation, but it’s a blur for you until you leave.

You begin to walk out of the dining room while your brothers jog up to you.

“(Y/n), please wait-” they begin, and you shake your head.

“No, I’m not talking about this further,” you reply harshly. “Just stop pestering me!”

“Come on, we really do feel terrible and-”

“And? I feel terrible, too!” You glare at them and slam your door shut in front of them.

Let me just give him his blanket…

You remembered the promise you made last night and quickly open your large closet. Inside are various blankets, some of which have not been used in a long time.

“I don’t think they’d notice if these were gone…” you mumble as you grab one and fold it in your arms. It’s rather large for you, but considering how big the man in the cell is, it’d probably not be enough. You can’t take more now, though, that would be too suspicious.

You peer out the door and notice the coast is clear, save for a few random maids. Finally, you can see the man again. You do your best to walk normally, not wanting to draw further to attention to yourself. There’s a guard patrolling the area in front of the cellars, and you run up to him.

“Good afternoon. One of the maids thought they someone suspicious outside. If you could please handle the matter, I would be grateful,” you ask politely. The guard is surprised but nods and gets up to scour the area. You sigh in relief that there wouldn’t be anymore distractions and run down the stairs of the dungeons, all the way to the lowest level.

Like last time, the cold air of the dungeon immediately prickles your skin.

“You’d think I learn,” you comment until you slow down your steps as you approach the giant.

His back is toward the bars and he doesn’t flinch as he hears your footsteps.

“Excuse me,” you begin, finding the previous courage you had melting away as you realize just what you were doing. “I came back as promised.”

At the sound of your voice, he cranes his neck up and sits upright. You hear a small chuckle until he ushers you over with a finger.

“So, you really came back, huh?” He snarkily asked.

“I did. I made a promise and I intended to keep it.”

“You do understand what that looks like, right?” His voice returns to its normal, drab tone as he runs a hand through his hair.

“I don’t care. You… you did me a favor, and it is my duty to repay it,” you reply sternly. The chains clank and rustle as the man stands up, showcasing his large frame. He slowly turns around to face you, and those dark eyes of his bore into yours.

There is no light in them despite the smirk on his face. They are empty, hollow, and lifeless eyes.

“How sweet of you, your highness,” he says in a saccharine tone.

“You’re mocking me,” you cut to the chase.

“Oh, am I? Perhaps, your highness. I don’t get many visitors here, let alone such a pretty relic of the royal family,” he mocks. “You can’t really blame me for not knowing how to talk to you properly. I’m afraid manners are something I haven’t learned.”

“You can express your appreciation more sincerely next time,” you huff as you hold out the blanket to him, careful to keep your arms stretched in order to create some distance between you and him.

He snickers at your apprehensive behavior and makes sure to use his golden hook to grab the blanket from you. He is careful to not touch your hand with the weapon as he brings it inside his cell.

“My, my, what a lovely blanket. Cashmere?” He jokes. You take a step back and watch as drapes the blanket across his shoulders, making his shadow cover even more of you. “I appreciate it, your highness. Was that polite enough for you?”

“It was a start,” you admit, not liking the way he made everything sound so sarcastic and insincere.

“You may go now,” he dismisses you.

A part of you is eager to run away, but the more you watch him stretch his limbs and roll his shoulders, the more curious you get.

“Why did you not kill me yesterday?” You ask.

“This again? I’m starting to think you are begging for death,” he replies.

“No, you just… you saved me, yet it’s obvious you despise me.”

“Despise you? Now why would you accuse me of such a thing?”

“Nothing you say is ever serious. You’re obviously toying with me.”

“Toy with you? No, no, no, I’m not toying with you-” in an instant, he reaches forward and tilts your chin up with his hook. You gasp as you’re pulled closer to him against the bars and he gazes down with a strange emotion in his eyes that you cannot pinpoint. “This is toying with you. Your highness, I don’t hate you. I could never.”

“And why is that?” You quietly ask, your eyes glancing down to his hook every few seconds.

“You’re far too intelligent, far too competent for the ones I really despise,” he coos. “I may seem like a lowly prisoner now, but once upon a time, I was a pirate with a taste for the finer things in life. I know worth when I see it.”

Your eyes widen and you feel your face heat up from his words. You shove yourself off his hook and step back. “What gives you the right to say such a thing?”

“What? Never had a man tell you the truth? Never had anyone appreciate you correctly?”

“That’s none of your concern!” You yell, embarrassed that you were enjoying his praise.

“Oh, I think I hit the nail on the head, didn’t I?”

“Just, ugh-!” You growl in frustration.

“Poor, little, royal- they don’t really care you, do they? The way those ignorant fools ran away with their tails between their legs, I’m sure they didn’t care what it cost, so long as they escaped.”

“That’s not true, they’re just-”

“Tell me, your highness, do they always leave you behind?” You bite your lip and shake your head.

“N-no, not always, it’s just-”

“They always make you do the work, don’t they?” He continued.

“Well…”

“And they never are really thankful for you, are they? You’re just like a little toy they can discard whenever they choose. Let me tell you something,” he leans closer to you. “You’re too good for them. And they know that, so they keep trying to get you to lower yourself.”

Your taken aback by his rather frank assessment of your relationship with your brothers.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you don’t need them. You can do much better. Have some pride, will you? I hate seeing wasted potential,” his face contorts into one of disgust. “Especially for a bunch of imbeciles like that? Is that who you’re trying to impress?”

He wastes no time getting to the heart of the matter, and you sigh.

“Those are my brothers. I can’t do anything about that.”

“You can and you should. Fools like them are a dime a dozen. The fact you’re even entertaining the notion you must keep them around is sickening. The men I met yesterday are the ones who are supposed to run this kingdom before you?”

Your hands drop to your sides as he spells it out for you.

“I despise them,” he smiles, but there is nothing humorous about what he says or feels about the situation. “Idiots like that disgust me. I hate the weak, the talentless, the ineffective, more than anything.” His words are laced with venom, every sentence making you freeze. “Do you understand now what I mean? Weakness like what they showed yesterday- that is sin.”

“I’m not strong, either,” you reject.

“Physically, you’re not. But you have something they don’t. You have a brain in there. You have commitment. That’s infinitely more important than being a brute or a coward.” He blows a few strands of his loose hair from out of his face. “Use your brain and stop depending on them.”

He turns around and waves his right hand.

“Well, I’ve said enough. You don’t need to take my word for it, after all, I’m just a beat down prisoner.”

Your face softens as you watch him take a seat, facing the wall again. You hesitate for a moment before you step closer.

“What is your name?” You ask curiously.

“Hm? Why would you ask for the name of a ‘monster’ like me? Something like that is better left out of your mouth.”

“Answer me.”

“Sorry, your highness, I am a business man at heart. I don’t talk without some kind of deal.”

“What do you want, then?”

“Heh, your eagerness is rather endearing, so I’ll be easy on you this time,” he chuckles. “Give me a cigar. Not a cheap one, mind you. I want something your father would be happy to light.”

“A cigar? That’s it?”

“I’m a simple man, your highness. I miss the comfort of such simple pleasures.”

“A cigar, for your name?”

“That is all. Now go, you’ve wasted enough time down here. Don’t want your dear old dad to get suspicious of you, do you?”

“N-no, I don’t.”

“Good. Run along, your highness.”

You don’t need any more reminders as you turn your heel and run up the stairs as quick as you can. Your heart is pounding hard and fast in your chest, and despite the icy chill in this dungeon, your face still feels rather warm.

Just a cigar, huh?

#one piece x reader #one piece #one piece oneshots #x reader #reader insert #sir crocodile x reader #crocodile x reader #sir crocodile #crocodile #crocodile one piece #heartless giant #the heartless giant

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mikanotes · 2 months

Text

COMEBACK/APOCALYPSE

eunhyuk x gn!reader — 577 words.

genre: angst/comfort, (probably) established relationship

warnings: mentions of death, grief, and swearing. nothing else i think!

synopsis: Eunhyuk returns. You don’t know how to deal with it.

author’s note: i miss him so have this. also me when you’re coming back and it’s the end of the world and we’re starting over and i love you darling and i am done

“You’re dead.” you say, “I’ve finally made peace with that. You should not be here.”

Steady as your voice may be, you’re unsure how much of your carefully crafted detached exterior manages to hold up in the face of Lee Eunhyuk’s apparent return to life. He looks as calm as usual. The way he stares at you feels somewhat unnerving— A gaze that refuses to let go, one that pierces right through you.

You feel the walls around you crumbling before you can do anything about it. You never stood a chance. “Eunhyuk.” you sigh, tone almost pleading. Please tell me you’re real. Please tell me you’re alive. Even if it makes no sense, say it, please. You hold his gaze as he takes a few short steps towards you.

“I’m sorry.” he says. Your throat feels tight and your eyes sting. “That you grieved for something that wasn’t gone.”

This is so much worse. But there isn’t a good way this situation could’ve gone.

This is one year and some months of sinking into a void of growing despair, with nothing to grab onto to stop it. It’s one year and some months that really feel like a decade of your very heart withering away. It’s one year and some months of surviving a monster apocalypse, and somehow having the sight of the person you craved to see the most be the thing that truly breaks you. The floor feels like it’s disappearing under your feet. You’re falling again, and it feels ten times worse and more instant. Like death. You’re dying and he’s saying sorry for not ever truly leaving.

“No, I,” you pause, forcing yourself to actually breathe, “I grieved over someone that was gone. You were gone. This was over a whole year without a single sign from you. An entire year of forcing myself to believe everyone’s words. ‘He’s dead’, ‘He’s gone and under the crumbled building’, ‘You’ll never see him again’, that was real.”

Eunhyuk doesn’t say a word.

“I didn’t want to believe it. I was so sure of it— That you weren’t really gone. You wouldn’t leave so easily. I didn’t believe it at all.” you shake your head, gaze moving aimlessly, “I eventually had to stop believing, and I’m sorry that I did. But you can’t just come back this way.”

“Should I leave?”

He’s dead serious, the fool. Polite and conscious of the boundaries he might’ve pushed by simply making himself known to you again.

“No. Are you kidding me?” you take a step forward, but it’s awfully hesitant. Like if you get too close you’ll see his skin is translucent and he was never really there and you’d been yelling at the wall. “You can’t leave. Not again.”

What are you supposed to do with all these feelings? It’s terrifying. He really is here.

“What can I do?” he asks, tone as steady as you’d hoped yours would come out. Every moment you practiced that false image of calm, your reference had subconsciously been Eunhyuk. Calm and level-headed, mature, the perfect leading figure. You’d never see Lee Eunhyuk slip up over his own emotions. That’s what you strived for.

But as it turns out, it’s not easy to be like this.

So out of touch. You need to make sure.

“Take my hand.” you say, ask, “Please.”

He looks down at your hand, then back up at you when he shortens the distance between the two of you. His hand is careful when it takes yours, slowly bringing it up between both of your chests. His skin is just as cold as it was, as cold as you remembered. Rough, contrasting how gentle his movements are. You stare at him and he stares at your hand.

“Now?”

“Now you promise not to die without me.”

That’s not something he can promise, you know it already. His expression tenses for a moment, like he’s in pain, but it’s gone just as fast. “I can’t promise you that.” he says, looking up at you, “You know that.”

“You’re the worst person I know.” you say, lying through your teeth. Eunhyuk carefully reaches his free hand towards your face, pressing his palm to your jaw.

“I am, aren’t I?” he says quietly, expression unchanging. “I’d usually call bullshit, but I admit I sort of believe you, all things considered.”

You scoff but it’s hard for it not to turn into a laugh. It’s light and not the definition of happy but it feels somewhat comforting. Your heart feels painfully tight. There’s something inordinately scary about allowing yourself to hope again.

“You know, once it actually clicks in my head that you’re really here, I’m going to cry like I never have before?”

“Don’t waste your energy on that.” he hums, “Still, I’ll be here through all of it, if it happens. I’ll be there. I won’t leave again. Not like last time.”

You lean down until your forehead hits his shoulder. He moves his hand to the back of your head, and the other just tightens around your own. There’s no need for more than that to say I love you, silently, in your own way.

“You will?”

“I can promise you that much.”

#lee eunhyuk x reader #eun hyuk x reader #eunhyuk x reader #lee eun hyuk x reader #lee eunhyeok x reader #eun hyeok x reader #eunhyeok x reader #lee eun hyeok x reader #sweet home x reader #x reader

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ludibriadormonoteista · 5 months

Text

Slay the Dragon

Papa Arc: Son… The time has come. The infamous Yellow Dragon has been terrorizing our village for far too long.

Jaune: I hear you, father. I have been training my whole life for this.

Papa Arc: Indeed, you have. Take the family sword. You shall honor the oath you took and slay that foul creature.

Jaune: I will see that it is done, father. *Takes his leave*

Papa Arc: Now, hold on a minute. *Grabs his shoulder*

Jaune: Yes, father?

Papa Arc: Before you go, I want to make one thing very clear. I said Slay. Not Lay.

Jaune: …Yeah, I got it the first time.

Papa Arc: Slay, son. Not lay, not laid, not bang, not bed, not consummate, not taking her out for dinner. I want you to KILL that dragon.

Jaune: Father, I don’t-

Papa Arc: It’s a giant DRAGON for heaven’s sake. That monster is responsible for wiping out dozens of villages a year and has killed far more people than you will ever meet in your entire life. So PLEASE! Don’t waste your breath trying to woo that blasted creature!

Jaune: Dad, I’m seriously not gonna-

Papa Arc: I cannot stress how much we need that bitch dead, and the very last thing we need is for you to try and stick your dick in it!

Jaune: D-DAD!

Papa Arc: I want you to take this sword and plunge into the beast’s heart! Chop it into pieces if you must! Don’t stop until the life has left its eyes!

Jaune: ALRIGHT, GEESH! *Calms down* For the last time, I’m not gonna seduce the dragon or anything. I don’t even know where you got that idea from.

Papa Arc: I just want to make sure you understand what I’m saying.

Jaune: Father, I’m not one of those dragon-lovin’ degenerates from the southern islands, okay? You don’t have to worry about that.

Papa Arc: Glad to hear it. *Clears throat* Go forward, son. Make your ancestors proud.

Jaune: Yeah, yeah… *Finally leaves*

Papa Arc: Phew! Crisis averted. Ain’t that right, honey?

Mama Arc: It’s not gonna work, Nicky.

Papa Arc: What makes you say that?

Mama Arc: Take a good look. *Shows her dragon tail* I still can’t believe you convinced our son I’m a lizard Faunus.

Papa Arc: So what if I got lucky and got myself a wife because I couldn’t read instructions properly?! I could’ve been killed! I don’t want Jaune to make the same mistake and risk getting scorched to death.

Mama Arc: I don’t know, Taiyang’s spawn did seem very lonely last I checked. And that was 20 years ago.

Papa Arc: Well, then Taiyang’s spawn shall find plenty of companionship in the fiery pits of hell. For our boy Jaune will not rest until the Yellow Dragon’s life has been claimed by the sacred Crocea Mors-

[}}]

Yang: S’up, in-laws! I’ve been meaning to meet you guys. Huge fan of your work here. *Slaps Jaune’s back*

Jaune: *red* Yang, please…

Papa Arc: *Disgruntled noises*

Mama Arc: Oh, you must be our boy’s fiancé he wrote about. Come now sweetie, let me show you around the house.

Yang: You got it, mom! Can’t wait to meet my new sisters. Later, hubby~

Papa Arc: Jaune… What did I tell you?

Jaune: Tell me what?

Papa Arc: The thing we discussed? Before parting on your quest?

Jaune: What thing- Oh. Ooohhh……

Papa Arc: Do you have anything to say for yourself, young man?

Jaune: *Hand on the back of his head* I guess it slipped out of my mind…?

Papa Arc: Oh, something did slip, alright.

Jaune: It-It’s nothing like that! It all happened so fast, and-! Look, she’s on the run from a whole evil cult or some shit and I wondered if you and mom could let her crash here for a few weeks.

Papa Arc: And you didn’t think the neighbors would suspect anything from the blond girl with dragon horns waltzing around our house?

Jaune: I don’t know, I just figured we could tell everyone she’s a Faunus. Just like mom.

Papa Arc: *Wincing* About that, son…

#rwby shitpost #rwby #jaune arc #yang xiao long #dragonslayer #yang x jaune

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sundrop-writes · 4 months

Text

My Heart Is The Worst Kind Of Weapon

Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader

The joke's on you - we are salt and you are the wound.

Summary:

Ellie confronts your abuser, and after years of torment, you finally feel free.

Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader. Strangers to Lovers. Hurt and Comfort. Can be read with or without considering the canon events.

Word Count: 9,600

The Last of Us Masterlist | AO3 Link

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

Detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.

Warnings: reader uses she/her pronounces, the reader is a lesbian/does not date men, themes of abuse and abusive relationships, domestic abuse, ‘love at first sight’ trope, could be considered ‘soulmates’ trope, hurt and comfort, the reader is being abused by a family member and is saved by Ellie,the reader is being emotionally and physically abused by a family member, evidence of emotional manipulation/brainwashing in the reader character, the reader character has injuries from physical abuse, trauma, becoming free from abuse, depictions of violence (fist fighting between Ellie and the abuser), mentions of guns and gun violence, there is elements of Joel and Ellie’s relationship in the background and this could be read with or without considering the canon events (their emotional falling out), mentions of alcohol, drugging someone against their will (done toward the abuser), threatening someone’s genitals with a knife (done toward the abuser), kidnapping and intimidation through violent threats (done toward the abuser), mentions of hanging/choking/suffocation, use of lesphobic slurs (I think ‘rug muncher’ is the only one?) (from the abuser towards Ellie), Joel and Ellie making a kidnapping (and potentially murder) plot together, this has a happy/hopeful ending.

A/N: Another re-post of a fic I really, really love. This one is particularly deeply personal to me. Whenever I write about the concept of abuse, it’s very emotional for me, but this one has some more personal touches - because it is about abuse coming from a family member and how it can be difficult to part from that because you rely on them for survival and resources that keep you alive. Often times when people think about abuse - or when abusive relationships are modelled in media, it is a romantic relationship, and they display how a person can go from sweet and romantic and turn into a monster, and how it manipulates the victims emotions and makes it difficult for them to leave. And I do think that is an important story to tell, but one equally important - the story of an abuser who is a constant in your life, and makes you dependent on them for survival, and it causes you to rationalise all of their poor actions and behaviour because you need them. You want them to be a good person in your mind because you don’t know how to sustain your life without them.

Another deeply personal touch on this fic - the title. It is titled after a Fall Out Boy song, and you guys might know - I fucking love Fall Out Boy. I feel like all of their songs have a direct cord to my soul. But this one in particular is so special and tender for me. I was struggling with what to title this fic, and I was going through a playlist of songs that I listen to frequently - and this one came up. Although I believe the original intent of this song is about a cheating spouse, for me, it brings up feelings of how I think of my abuser. Especially the lines ‘I’m the kind of kid that can’t let anything go, and you wouldn’t know a good thing if it came up and split your throat’ and 'this is me wishing you in to the worst situations’.

I feel like it is very accurate, because Ellie is someone who is very 'wearing her heart on her sleeve’ and through this fic, she wants to be emotionally detached and leave the situation alone, but she can’t. And it turns her heart into this weapon against her, and ultimately, against the abuser. Because it is only of the fact that she cares so much about y/n that she wants to hurt the guy at all. And it also works to describe y/n’s feelings, because she hates that she has emotional attachment to her abuser, but she does, and it makes her feel as though her heart is a weapon against herself. So yeah. I hope you enjoy this fic, and if you relate to it somehow, I hope you can heal.

...

Ellie didn’t believe in love at first sight.

She was the type of person who thought it was cheesy - some made-up bullshit built for movies and books to sell people on the type of story that would never actually happen. She founded herself on facts, and though she knew realistically it would never happen in her lifetime, she thought that space travel was far more factual than something like love at first sight.

Until she met you.

And yeah, it probably wasn’t love - at least not true love - until later on. But there had to be some reason that she stuck her neck out for you like that. There had to be something drawing her to you like that. Maybe it was that fabled invisible string. That unspoken thing that made her want to die and want to kill for you, especially within the first ten minutes of meeting you.

You were with a group taking refuge in Jackson. In such a small town, rumors were rampant. The group had been in town for less than a day and people were already whispering about whether or not Maria was going to take in such a large number of people on such short notice.

Personally, Ellie didn’t care. She knew that Jackson had the resources to support new people and she knew that Maria would make the right decision. She was a good leader; she would sense if the group were good enough people to stay or not. She wouldn’t knowingly let in any dangers.

But then, Ellie started to care very suddenly, very much - when she met you.

When she saw you, the very first thing she noticed was your smile. She didn’t think she had ever seen someone smile with such intense, genuine joy. It was something that instantly twisted her gut into knots - filled her with those cartoonish butterflies as she took in the sight of you.

You were standing along the edge of one of the fences, near a small, green pasture for the animals in town. It was a small wooden fence that came up to your hips, around an area that was sectioned off to keep the baby cows in so they could graze. You were leaning on the wooden panels, admiring those little cows with awe, a smile on your face a mile wide as you watched the animals stumble around happily in the field. It was a beautiful spring day, with a light breeze kissing against your skin, and plenty of bright green grass for the cows to snack on. It made the sun seem so much brighter with your smile under it.

Ellie couldn’t help but find herself drawn to you.

She was supposed to be on her way to return her rifle to the gun shed after patrol. But instead, her feet carried her to you, almost entirely against her will. And soon she found herself standing barely a foot away from you, leaning on that same fence with one hand and staring at you with a big idiotic smile of her own.

You gave a small jolt when you finally took your eyes off the cows and noticed her staring. Ellie panged with guilt. She hadn’t realized how unintentionally creepy she was being. She didn’t know that it was a programmed response on your part - an ingrained jumpiness that you couldn’t help.

She swallowed around the dryness in her throat, struggling for words, and she was thankful when you spoke first.

“You guys have everything here.” You said, bright and excited as you put your eyes back on the grazing pasture. “It’s the first time I’ve seen baby cows before.”

“We - uh - we also have sheep.” Ellie tripped over herself to say this, shouldering the strap of her rifle to point beyond to a spot where the sheep’s pasture could not be seen. “And there’s greenhouses, and horses. My horse is named Shimmer. You can come and meet her if you want!”

Ellie almost felt stupid, rushing to say all of this, rushing to impress you. If you liked Jackon’s plentiful resources, then perhaps if she pressed just how fantastic and resource filled the place was, you would want to stay.

She found herself wanting you to stay. Very badly.

You bit your lip, slightly shy, and let out a nervous giggle. You didn’t want to turn her down. But years of warnings in a closed off echo chamber had made you weary of strangers. Even seemingly kind ones.

“That would be nice.” You told her quietly. “Maybe later.”

Ellie thought she was coming on too strong. She kicked herself internally because of it.

She had no idea that you were hesitant to be friendly - hesitant to get too close because of the ‘consequences’ you had seen in the past. In your eyes, Ellie seemed like a lovely, friendly person, but you didn’t want to get hurt for trying to make friends. Even if you felt a spark of attraction towards her, you could never pursue it. You didn’t have the room to do so.

Ellie simply nodded at you, the pain of rejection curling in her gut as she began to walk off. But she stopped dead in her tracks when she heard it.

Yelling - a brute voice disrupting your peace.

When Ellie turned around, there was a man. Someone who would have been otherwise average in his looks, if not for the violence he wore so boldly, obviously uncaring of who saw him. His face was tight with anger as he crowded into your personal space, grabbing a hold of your wrist and screaming at you relentlessly as though you had greatly offended him.

She wondered how someone like you - someone so sweet, who took wonder in baby cows, could ever do something to warrant such a visceral reaction of anger from someone.

Ellie gripped her rifle tightly.

A voice in her mind told her that it was none of her business, but another quickly argued back and said that you didn’t deserve to be treated like this. It said that she should step in. She felt frozen as the two sides warred inside her. For a few moments, she simply watched on, taking in the one-sided conflict between you and this man with horror swimming inside of her.

Your reaction was the worst part.

Your face immediately shifted from that excitement, awe, and wonder that the baby cows gave you and contorted into pure pain. Tears welled up in your eyes and pure fear overtook your entire body. Your spine coiled up, as if to protect your internal organs, but you made no real moves to get away from this man.

He spouted at you about ‘wandering off’ and ‘what have I told you before’, ranting on and on as if you had made some horrible mistake by taking time out of your day to admire a grazing pasture full of animals. Ellie was just about to unlock her knees and charge over there to do something about it when a vial, angry eye caught hers over your shoulder.

“The fuck you lookin’ at?” He barked at Ellie.

Those simple words were all it took to trigger something in Ellie.

At a moment’s notice, all of her logic flew out the window, and she found herself consumed by the impulse of her rage instead. She shed off the strap of her rifle, leaving the heavy object on the ground behind her in case it might impede her as she barreled toward the man like a raging bull.

“Why don’t you tell me, asshole?!” Ellie fired back, entirely nonsensical.

But both of them, ill-tempered, were beyond talking at that point.

He stepped around you and went to open his mouth again and Ellie took a swing. She easily made contact with his jaw, but he absorbed it well. Her knuckles stung as she pulled back and landed another hit on his cheek, most definitely leaving a nasty bruise.

Ellie was caught off guard when a large fist collided with her face.

She would never be the type to say that men shouldn’t hit women simply on principle. Especially not in this case, because she had swung first.

She was shocked simply because of the sheer force behind the hit. It wasn’t just to get her off of him - it was vengeful.

Though her skull was rattled, when he moved his hand up again, Ellie caught his wrist and hit him again. Still feeling that blinding rage, she took him to the ground. His nose felt like mush under her knuckles and she wouldn’t have stopped - if not for someone forcefully pulling her off of him.

She wanted to yell when she found out that someone was Tommy. But he quickly dampened any of her protests.

Tommy then gave her a long lecture about ‘first impressions’ and handling her temper during ‘misunderstandings’. He told her that being a part of their family meant that even unintentionally, she represented Jackson as a whole. Regrettably, Ellie felt guilt curling in her stomach because of his words. Even if the guy had it coming, she hated Joel or Tommy looking down on her with disappointment.

And some time during that long, droning speech, you and that man slipped away. Ellie had a very bad feeling in her gut because of it.

She had a feeling that he was nothing but a cause of pain for you.

But of course, she had no outright proof of that. Aside from your tears. But you weren’t even there to tell Tommy your story. And what story was that? That you had been yelled at? How the hell did that substantiate Ellie beating a man up?

She had nothing more to go on than a gut feeling.

So rather than telling Tommy about any of the things she suspected, she accepted everything she had said, she apologized for losing her cool, and then (after he gave her a hug, patted her on the head and said ‘it’s okay, kiddo’) - she turned and walked away.

When she returned her rifle to the gunshed, Jesse asked if something had happened on patrol to cause the bruises on her face and make her expression so sickly, and she quickly shrugged him off.

Ellie felt intensely guilty for not doing something more. She felt bad for not simply asking you what was wrong, for not handling the situation like a real human being. She had no clue why she couldn’t simply be calm when she saw you so upset like that.

She didn’t even really know you. She just had a feeling that you were too good to be treated like that. Something deep in her gut was screaming that you did nothing to deserve it.

The group you came in with split up. Some of them made their way down to the coast with the intention of fishing, perhaps finding and fixing up an old boat, and some of them stayed.

Ellie took notice when you and the man who had yelled at you stayed.

She also took notice of the fact that whenever she saw you around town, that man was never very far from you. And whenever he lingered around you, you were much different from the girl she had met that day near the pasture. You were slumped down, never rising to your full posture, constantly tense, and incredibly quiet. You never spoke a single word to anyone other than that awful man. You never even made eye contact with other people.

Ellie spent weeks watching you from afar, attempting to see if you were okay, looking for some ‘evidence’ that you weren’t. Some hard proof that she could bring to Tommy and Maria, something to show that she wasn’t insane for attacking that man. And it wasn’t until the spring rolled into summer, and Ellie’s bruises from the incident had faded, that she found time to speak to you again.

There was a time when Ellie caught you without your ugly shadow - when you were by the coops, feeding the chickens, imitating their clucking and laughing to yourself.

“I think you’ve got a career as a chicken caller.” Ellie chuckled as she walked toward you.

You smiled when you looked up and saw her.

“Maybe.” You shrugged. “I just like them because if they say mean things to me, I don’t have to know.”

Ellie felt a lump rise up in her throat at the pain behind your words.

It left an awkward, painful silence for a moment before you spoke up again.

“Look, I’m sorry about before.” You told her. “If you thought you had to defend me, or…” You continued staring at the grainy feed on the ground, pointedly not looking at Ellie. “I piss him off. Often. He was just having a bad day, and I-”

“That’s no excuse for him to yell at you like that.” Ellie cut you off. She rushed to get the words out, desperate for you to know this at the truth. “He’s got a temper, doesn’t he?”

“So do you.” You chuckled. It wasn’t genuine laughter.

There was a twinge of fear in your voice. It made her nauseous. She never wanted you to fear her the same way that you clearly feared that horrible man.

“I’m sorry.” Ellie said quietly, intense guilt overtaking her. “I do genuinely apologize if I scared you. I just… I couldn’t stand to see you crying like that.”

“I totally get it.” You snorted, painful humor lingering in your voice. “It’s so annoying. But… sometimes I can’t help it.” Though you kept your voice steady, these simple words spoke volumes of pain.

Ellie wanted to ask why. She wanted to ask if there were more days when he pushed you to tears.

“I’m sorry that I’m such a crybaby.” You told her. You tried to laugh this off, as though it was just a funny trait of your personality, and not a fault of pain being inflicted onto you.

Ellie shook her head vigorously.

“No.” She quickly corrected you. “That’s not what I meant.”

Confusion knitted over your features. Ellie fought hard to find the words to explain it.

“I was angry because he made you cry.” She explained. “I was pissed off because he upset you, and - and, I know it’s stupid. I don’t even know you. But you don’t deserve that.”

Hearing those words for the first time was a truth so radical it almost tore the ground from underneath your feet. After years of being told that you weren’t worth the trouble - that the food you consumed was a burden, that the bullets used to protect you were a waste - being told for the first time that you didn’t deserve such treatment… you felt like the words didn’t belong in your ears.

“What?” You looked at her with pure shock overtaking your expression, a most genuine and raw reaction. “You really care that much about me being upset?”

This gripped Ellie’s insides worse than anything else. You could barely conceptualize someone caring about your feelings this genuinely.

“Yeah.” She admitted quietly. “I do care.”

This left your face tight with contemplation, intense thought. Ellie didn’t want to leave room for you to get too caught up in it, for you to overanalyze her genuine gesture. So she came up with something else.

“So… did you still wanna meet my horse? Maybe we could take her out for a ride?” Ellie posed.

You seemed hesitant. But eventually, you decided ‘fuck it’ - you might as well have some fun. Especially if it meant spending some time with someone who actually seemed to care about you.

Ellie took you to the stables and introduced you to Shimmer, and officially introduced you to herself, as you did in return - which seemed odd after all that had happened. But it was nice to finally have a name to go with your pretty face. It was nice to finally hear your laughter as Ellie made an age old joke about hay and horses.

After you took a while to pet the horse and get acquainted with her, Ellie got permission to go past the gate. She took you on a slow trot on the outskirts of Jackson. She had butterflies curling in her stomach the whole time as you gripped her waist, sitting on the back of the horse, and you smiled brightly and complemented how peaceful everything was.

When the two of you got back from the ride, you kissed Ellie on the cheek, and she nearly squealed with happiness.

And then, she didn’t see you for nearly a week afterwards.

She thought she had done something wrong, but she had a sneaking suspicion that it had nothing to do with her and everything to do with that awful man who barely let you out of his sight.

The next time she did see you, you were walking along closely behind that wicked man, your eyes low to the ground. And when she called out your name, you didn’t look up to greet her.

The sweet summer turned into fall and Ellie felt the guilt gnawing at her more, especially when she noticed the days or even weeks when you didn’t seem to come outside. Days when you didn’t show up to do your chores and were supposedly sick, days when nobody else seemed to care why you were missing.

There was that voice in her head. ‘She’s just a girl.’ The voice said. ‘It’s just a crush. It’s none of your business. You should just move on.’

Ellie couldn’t bring herself to listen to that voice. For some reason, she felt this thing gnawing deep in her gut - something that said you needed her.

Against her better judgment, Ellie went to the house she knew you were staying at, and knocked on the door.

She wasn’t surprised when you answered. You peeked through the door with only half your face showing, utterly terrified.

“What are you doing here?” You barked.

Ellie had a feeling that your anger was a formation of fear, and it wasn’t entirely directed at her.

“I was worried about you.” Ellie admitted shyly.

You opened the door further, hesitantly, and then pulled Ellie inside before you shut the door and closed all the locks. Ellie felt her stomach twist when she noticed you looking through the curtains, as though you were afraid for your life, looking out for danger.

Ellie had a distinct feeling that she knew what that danger was.

A giant lump formed in Ellie’s throat when you turned around and she saw it - that black eye, swollen and bruised, glaring at her. It was the part of your face you had been blocking with the other half of the door. There were other things she couldn’t see. Scrapes and bruises and hand shapes swats over your arms and torso, covered by your purposefully baggy sweatshirt with long sleeves.

“Just stop.” You said, turning to Ellie, your voice quaking with the intensity of your emotions. “Stop worrying about me.”

Ellie’s jaw tensed. She would find that intensely difficult - practically impossible.

“No.” She easily told you so. “I care about y-”

“Stop.” You said, a harsh cry in your throat.

It was too painful for you to consider. The idea that someone sweeter and nicer existed in the world and cared for you. The idea that the way of life you had known for years wasn’t the only way to survive.

“Look, I like you.” You added on. “You’re really sweet. But you don’t want me. I’m sure you can find someone else-”

Ellie stepped forward, her fingers brushing so gently over your cheek, right underneath the swelling of that awful black eye. You were so entirely startled by the pure gentleness of the touch that you let out a choked off sound from the back of your throat, almost a sob.

“He did this to you?” Ellie asked, her voice deadly calm and quiet.

You refused to answer.

“Is he your fucking boyfriend?” She prodded, her voice even sharper and more offended now.

You scoffed, pulling away from her touch. You thought she was jealous of the idea of you having a romantic partner. But in fact, she was deeply offended at the universe, she was in turmoil at the idea that someone would even consider hurting you when they claimed to love you.

“My brother.” You told her, the word almost sounding like poison on your tongue. “I would never choose someone like him. But I’ve been stuck with him for as long as I can remember.”

“Oh.” Ellie said quietly.

It was not a possibility she had considered. But she knew that there had never been any romantic connotations to the interactions between the two of you. Only danger, intimidation, and pain.

It was almost a worse fate, in a sense. The idea that you had been saddled with him because of genetics, that you couldn’t escape him because of obligation, or being forced to survive together.

“Yeah, oh.” You repeated, tears clutching the inside of your throat. “And really, it’s none of your business. He’s always taken care of me. He takes care of me, so-”

“This is not taking care of you.” Ellie argued sharply, gesturing to the mark on your face. “If you need someone to take care of you, I’m right here.”

You rolled your eyes at this. Again, you thought it was jealousy. That it was her trying to make herself seem appealing as a romantic partner.

You didn’t know that she was serious, that she would give you the world on a silver platter if given the chance.

“And I sure as hell won’t hit you.” Ellie added on.

“That’s easy for you to say.” You scoffed.

“That’s easy for me to do.” She fired back. “Not beating the people you love is the bare fucking minimum. In case no one ever told you that.”

Her last words were intensely sharp, but struck a chord deep inside of you. It caused your stomach to churn with harsh realization, something you probably already knew that was brought to the surface and waved in your face:

This was not a life that everyone lived.

“I can’t do this right now.” You huffed quietly, shaking your head.

You were still swimming deep in denial, hating the idea that your life was founded entirely on pain. But Ellie would fight through all of that pain to get to you.

“Come on, how long is it gonna be before he kills you?” She asked, the words quiet but devastatingly striking.

You remained painfully silent.

“What kind of life is this for you?” She spoke up when you did not reply. “There’s so much more out there for you that doesn’t involve your asshole brother.”

“Look, you know nothing about him.” You said sharply. “You don’t know what kind of life he’s had. You don’t know what he’s been through. What we’ve been through. Some of the things he’s saved me from.”

Ellie could only imagine what was going through your mind. Obviously, she had seen some of the darker things the world was capable of. She knew that if your brother had saved you from some of those horrors, it made him look like a saint by comparison.

She wanted to scream that you didn’t have to go through this. Life didn’t have to be like this. Absorbing his hits and being a target for his anger wasn’t necessary for your survival.

“Usually it’s my fault anyway.” You sighed. “I meant what I said before. I have some weird talent for pissing him off.”

Ellie was downright insulted at this.

“It is not your fault.” She rushed to say, her throat straining with the intense passion behind the words.

You found it difficult to believe her.

Any reply you could have mustered was drowned out by the sound of heavy boots coming up the porch.

“Get out.” You barked at Ellie, panicked. “Get out, you have to leave.”

You shoved Ellie out the back door before she could argue, and the sound of more screaming and an ugly collision of a hand on flesh made Ellie clench her fists to avoid charging back inside. She had to tell herself one simple thing - she wouldn’t be able to explain a murder to Maria or Tommy.

She wouldn’t have to.

And there was maybe only one other person in town who would understand.

She went right from your place to Joel’s, and he seemed too pleased about her being there in order for him to really question it. He seemed even more pleased when she asked for his help.

When Ellie explained the situation, she was surprised that Joel didn’t want to take it to Maria. But they both knew that she was diplomatic. She had an entire town to think of. She couldn’t be chasing down people’s personal problems, and she couldn’t be known for doling out vigilante justice. She had to make people in Jackson feel safe, and she didn’t think that civilian trials and public executions would be the way to do that. And as far as Ellie knew, nobody in Jackson had ever acted up like this before. Maybe they were just good at keeping it a secret. (That thought scared her more than anything.)

Joel suggested something about a quiet smothering and a shovel. Nobody would ever find the guy’s body, he reasoned.

Ellie didn’t want it that way. Even if the guy was a piece of shit, he was your only family. She knew that in some fucked up way, you would miss him.

No - it needed to be his choice. And he wasn’t going to make the right choice on his own. So they had to guide him to it. Well, they had to force him to it and shove his face in the damn right choice.

And then, if he didn’t make the right choice - then they would go to Joel’s version, a Plan B, and they would get the shovel.

Her and Joel talked it over for hours, making a solid Plan A. When they were both finally satisfied, Ellie left out the back door to head to her place to finally crash for the night - when had it gotten dark out?

She paused in her tracks when she saw you standing at the bottom of the few stairs that led up to the porch.

You had a large sweatshirt hood pulled up over your head, and in the minimal light from the back door’s bulb, Ellie could see that your eyes were entirely startled. Your cheek was sporting a fresh, wicked bruise that hadn’t been there before. Your lip was busted, and you had the neck of the sweater pulled up, half hiding some marks on your neck.

Clearly your brother had come home furious about something. Perhaps he had seen Ellie leaving. She partially felt guilty about it, and definitely felt more secure in her plan.

“I - uh - I ran into Dina, and she said I could find you here.” You said, motioning off to where you must have spoken to Dina, muttering nervously because Ellie had been standing there for a few moments staring you down with sadness in her eyes and had not spoken. “I was gonna knock. But… I…”

‘I got nervous.’ The words were lost on your tongue. You knew it sounded strange. Being afraid to knock. Being afraid to ask for help.

Ellie walked down the steps to meet you on the ground, and you didn’t move away when she reached up and brushed a gentle thumb across your lip - not quite touching the area when it had been split open, but clearly scorning it in her mind.

She wanted to suggest something about running away, but she knew Joel would just come after her. The easier solution would simply be to get rid of the awful man who had done this to you.

You grabbed her wrist and leaned into her hand. She cupped your cheek then, holding you so tenderly that it almost hurt. Your body was so unfamiliar with sweetness, with comfort.

“I can’t do this.” You sobbed quietly. “Ellie, I can’t do this.”

You weren’t feeling brave enough to leave the familiar, the thing that bound you in pain and torment.

“Yes, you can.” Ellie told you firmly.

She gently tilted your head up, forcing your gaze toward hers.

“Ask me.” She told you.

You both knew what it meant.

‘Ask me for my help.’

‘Ask me to get rid of that monster, and I will.’

You let it bubble inside of you. The words swelled up inside of your throat, and a wicked sob escaped, causing hot tears to leak down and touch Ellie’s hand before you got it out.

“Help me.” You croaked. “Please.”

“I will.” Ellie told you firmly. “I’ll get rid of him.”

She leaned in then and planted a kiss on your forehead, something sweet enough to render another sob from your throat. When she moved to pull away, you reached around and grabbed the back of her shirt, clutching on tight to keep her there, pulling her into a hug and holding her to savor the precious temporary moment you were able to be away from your tormentor.

“Ellie?” You said her name, and she hummed a response, still leaning with her lips gently pressed against your forehead. “I know - I know it’s so stupid. But… I don’t want him dead.” You told her. Ellie had predicted as much. “I just… I want him gone.”

“It’s not stupid.” Ellie assured you. “I understand.”

By the time Ellie got everything together, the cold was just setting in.

The first snowfall had just hit Jackson, and she had made sure to keep a close eye on you in the interim. You told her over and over again that you were going to be fine.

A few times you even went back on your ask, you told her that you and your brother were getting along much better. Ellie’s gut churned on the days when you smiled and told her that things between you and your brother were getting much better, that he was making an effort to control his temper, that you could see him making ‘big changes’.

On for another fresh wound to show up on you and when she would ask you about it, you broke down crying and declared that it was all your stupid fault.

Ellie knew that he was never going to change. And it only made her more firm in her convictions to carry through with the plan that she and Joel had carefully laid out.

Gathering the supplies needed for her plan wasn’t as hard as she originally thought.

The pharmacy in Jackson was surprisingly easy to steal from. She found a pharmaceutical journal in the library; finding out which drugs could knock out a grown man and memorizing the names of them - not that hard.

And then Ellie took an easy fall during one of her patrols, wincing and whining about the pain in her twisted wrist far more than she felt it, getting the nurse to unlock the drug cabinet to give her some tylenol with codeine. Then she ‘accidentally’ knocked over a tray with a bunch of stray pieces on it, and she got what she needed out of the unlocked cupboard like clockwork.

She wasn’t sure if the people in Jackson were naive, or if she was far too used to being a criminal.

Her wrist had healed up nicely by the time everything else was ready.

Joel thought it would be wisest that they use his basement.

He explained to Ellie that they could use an old military technique - shut out all the light, take away anything potentially familiar about the room, make it naked and bare and anonymous so that it would seem like a random place that could be anywhere.

It would be right in town, but the prospect of seeming so far off, so ‘in the middle of nowhere’ - it would be a good part of the scare tactic. They spent some time cleaning out the basement, putting garbage bags over the windows, and draping the room in plastic tarping - partially to scare him, and partially, just in case.

Joel got a bottle of cheap whiskey that he watered down some, and Ellie poured out the bottle of pills onto the counter with the intention to crush them all up and mix them with the alcohol.

“Christ Ellie, that’s enough to take down a goddamn horse.” Joel commented.

Clearly, it was too many pills.

Ellie took a handful of them - half, and put them back in the original bottle. When she looked up at Joel again, he shook his head. Still too many?

“Here, let me.” He said, gently shouldering her out of the way so he could make the mixture himself.

“You act like you’ve done this before.” She commented.

“You act surprised that I’ve done this before.” He replied.

He did have a point. Especially considering that when Joel had met Ellie, he had likely been expecting her to be a large bag of drugs, and not a child who needed to be smuggled.

Joel put back a much bigger portion of the pills, only leaving four tablets that he began to crush up to be mixed in with the drink.

“The alcohol is gonna magnify the effects of this stuff. A lot.” Joel explained, emphasizing the last words. “You kept saying you didn’t wanna kill him. So you don’t need to give him an overdose.”

Ellie nodded. It was a good point. She felt lucky to have his help with this.

Joel scraped the crushed up tablets - now a powder - into the bottle, and put his thumb over the opening to seal it while he shook it up, making sure it was well dissolved before he put the cap back on.

“Remember. Pour one for yourself, but don’t fucking drink from it.” Joel reminded her.

It was a mental tactic. Pour two glasses, so as to not seem suspicious, but don’t take a sip.

Joel handed her the bottle, and they walked over to your place.

Ellie made sure that Dina was keeping you busy with spare chores, things she supposedly couldn’t do without your help, ensuring that you would be out of the house for the night and wouldn’t miss your brother gone. Ellie went around to the front door and Joel went to the back, waiting for her signal.

She knocked on the front door and when your brother answered, she waved the bottle. She apologized for the two of them having gotten off ‘on the wrong foot’ when he first came into town. She claimed that she wanted to set things right with him.

He looked her up and down with suspicion, but opened the door. He fetched a couple of glasses and Ellie did as Joel instructed - poured one for herself after she poured one for him, took it in her hand, but didn’t sip from it.

He eagerly knocked the first drink back and Ellie hated the fact that he didn’t pass out right away. He poured himself a second and she forced herself to make an attempt at conversation.

She asked about one of the pictures he had on the mantle over the fireplace - a framed photo of him and some woman. He grunted, saying that it was ‘his bitch’ but ‘she was dead now’. The way he spoke about women made Ellie want to hurl. This caused the conversation to lull into him asking if Ellie had a boyfriend.

She shrugged it off. Especially seeing as he didn’t seem like the most accepting type if she told him why she didn’t have one. Then he looked her up and down as though he was inspecting her. As though just because she didn’t have a man in her life, that made her an available prospect for him. Ellie clutched her glass so hard she thought it cracked.

He took more gulps of his drink, and then he mentioned you. He said that he had seen Ellie talking to you.

He wasn’t clever about his intentions. He wanted to know why someone who was clearly friendly toward his sister wanted to be on his good side all of a sudden.

Before she could make up some lie, the drugs kicked in. He became hazy, and made a slurred thought about his liquor tolerance being higher normally before he dropped to the floor, out cold.

Ellie knocked on the back door for Joel, and they had his unconscious body halfway down the basement stairs when Tommy’s voice came into the house, shouting for Joel. They both gave each other that ‘oh shit’ look and Joel dropped the man’s head like a sack of potatoes. He rushed up the stairs to talk to Tommy before his brother could come to them.

Ellie dragged the dead weight the rest of the way, and she listened as the voices carried through the house. Joel was getting called out for an emergency patrol route - a large horde of Infected had been spotted near the west watch tower.

Tommy asked for Ellie too, but Joel lied and said that he hadn’t seen her.

As Joel was gathering his things to leave, he went to the top of the basement stairs. He gave Ellie one last firm, knowing look. It was an out. She knew that if she wanted to, he would stay back and help her clean up the mess, and they would find some other way to go about things so she wouldn’t have to go it alone.

But she was firm in her convictions.

“I’ve got this.” She told him, giving him a nod.

He nodded back and then closed the basement door.

She picked a steady beam in the ceiling.

She dangled off it with her body weight to make sure it wouldn’t budge (even though your asshole brother was probably a good hundred pounds heavier than her). And then she put him in the noose Joel had tied, with the rope tied precariously around the beam.

She had more than enough slack on it to make sure that he wouldn’t choke while still unconscious from the drugs. As tempting as it was to simply kill the man who had been abusing you for years, this was about scaring him. This was a warning. An attempt to get him to make the right choice. His hands were tied behind his back, making him unable to get away.

As he came around to consciousness, he began to groan and squirm, and Ellie wasted no time in putting her plan into action.

She went to where she had the other end of the rope tied, fashioned to some hook that might have been used to hang up tools or something else at one point, and she untied it and hoisted him up. He choked furiously as his breath was cut off by the noose, and Ellie made sure he was far enough off the ground before she grabbed something else important - the stool.

When preparing, Joel had intentionally cut off two of the legs, making it wobbling and unsteady. She put it underneath him and guided his legs to it, and then he took a wheezing breath as the pressure was released from his neck while his feet wobbled on it unsteadily.

“What the fuck?” He barked out, obviously trying to sound intimidating when he was so breathless. “What the hell is wrong with you?! You’re fucking insane!”

Ellie took a step back, looking up at him with a neutral expression. He was entirely powerless. He couldn’t swing and hit her, he couldn’t run. If he jumped, he would hang himself. He was completely at her mercy, and he had to listen to what she had to say.

In regards to the question, she shrugged.

“Maybe.” She said simply. “I just wanna talk.”

“Oh, you wanna talk?!” He growled out the words in anger, still trying to sound lager and more powerful than he was.

And then, all too predictably, he swung out his leg in an attempt to kick her.

Ellie easily dodged it, and the motion made him unsteady on the stool. Both his legs fell off, and she simply watched as he struggled, hanging freely by the noose for a few moments. He sputtered and choked, kicking around frantically to get his feet back on the stool. It was a wonder that he didn’t knock it over.

Eventually, he did get back up to stand on it before he passed out. He continued to choke on the air, veins bulging in his face from the effort. All while Ellie stood back, arms crossed, staring at him condescendingly.

“That was stupid.” She commented quietly.

“Fuck you!” He choked out.

“Look, the way I see it, you have two choices. Maybe three.” Ellie explained.

He glared at her with absolute poison in his eyes, but remained silent and still, other than the tremors in his legs as he struggled to balance on the stool.

“Option one: you continue being a petty bitch, so I leave you here.” She told him simply. “You can test your endurance for a few hours, maybe even a few days. But no one will find you, if they come looking at all. And eventually, your legs will give out from exhaustion and you’ll hang.”

“Y/N will come for me.” He replied confidently. The devilish smirk that spread across his face gave Ellie the urge to smack him.

“No.” Ellie argued, just as quick, just as confident. “You really think Y/N is gonna be able to find you?”

This was the mind game Joel had talked about. He was right in Jackson, right under your nose. Would he shout for help, or would he believe that he was out in the middle of nowhere, stranded somewhere that you would never be able to find him?

His silence was all too telling. Ellie resisted the urge to smile, knowing how important a firm, intimidating face was in this situation.

“Option two,” She continued on, taking his silence as a sure sign that he didn’t like option one. “You can listen to what I have to say, and you can get agreeable about it real fast.”

“What’s option three?” He asked.

Of course, he didn’t like option two either. He didn’t like being agreeable.

But Ellie had a feeling that in a few minutes, option two would be the one that he’d beg for.

“You say something I don’t like,” She got her switchblade out of her back pocket, and clicked the switch to show off the sharp, shiny blade. “And then I kill you.”

There was a pointed moment of silence as he looked between the sharp point of her knife and her unforgiving, deadly calm expression. For a moment, his enraged face wavered, and then came fear. It was just a flicker, but Ellie saw it as weakness. And she was going to exploit it.

“What the fuck do you want?” He barked.

“It’s very simple.” Ellie explained. “Leave Y/N the fuck alone. Get your shit, leave town, and get as far away from her as possible.”

“That’s my sister.” He argued. “That’s my blood. You can’t just expect me to abandon the only family I have, I-”

“If you respected her as your family, you wouldn’t fucking beat her.” Ellie cut him off, the words turning to poison on her tongue.

He looked intensely caught in that moment, his expression becoming ghostly. As if he somehow hadn’t figured out that this whole thing was about his abusive ways.

“What? You don’t like me ‘cause I protect her? ‘Cause I look out for her?” He immediately switched, swelling into that self righteous, taunting person he was with you. “You wanna fuck her, don’t you? You fucking self righteous rug muncher, think you know what’s better for my own sister than I do! What the hell is wrong with you? You-”

As he ranted, Ellie stepped forward and hesitantly grabbed the waistband of his pants. Clearly, the message wasn’t getting through to him.

And though it was something more disgusting to her than blood, guts, viscera, even the smell of an old moldy building - Ellie yanked down his pants in one swift movement, trying to ignore the sight of it in front of her. She placed her switchblade right at the spot where his dick met his inner thigh, simply resting it there.

The feeling of the cold metal in such a sensitive spot easily shut him up. His stomach clenched as he held his breath, likely waiting for Ellie to cut him.

With him on the stool, it was hovering at around eye level, and she tried her hardest not to look directly at it. For you, it was worth it. That’s what she told herself.

“Listen carefully,” Ellie told him, her voice still low, still deadly calm. “You are going to agree to my terms, or they’re going to find your body missing this.” She threatened him, gently nudging the blade upwards, not yet cutting into flesh.

He gasped, shock and horror crashing through his system. He continued to struggle with balancing on the stool, struggling not to lean into the knife by accident and maim himself by mistake.

He looked at Ellie with terror in his eyes, but oddly enough, he didn’t say anything. Ellie considered it progress.

“I’m going to be very generous,” She said lowly, making it sound like a threat. “You have twenty four hours to get your shit, and get the hell out of Jackson. I don’t give a fuck what you tell Y/N. In fact, you don’t have to tell her anything at all. Just disappear. I don’t care where you go. Just get the fuck away from here. The farther, the better.”

Ellie paused, letting her words hang in the air for a moment.

“If you’re still in town by sundown tomorrow, I will kill you.” She said. “If you tell Y/N about this little incident, I will kill you. If I see Y/N later and she has a single scratch on her-”

“You’ll kill me.” He quickly finished off the sentence as he thought she would say it.

Ellie shook her head, putting on a wicked grin of her own for the first time during the conversation.

“No.” She said, a chuckle peeking through her voice. “I’ll make it slow. I’ll make you beg for death. I’ll make you wish that you had taken this very fucking generous first offer.”

There was another silence, filled only by the wobbling legs of the stool rocking against the ground, and the man’s anxious breaths.

Ellie wondered if he was stupid enough to decline her generosity.

“Okay.” He finally agreed.

Ellie hoped that she wouldn’t have to follow through on her threats, but she wouldn’t hesitate to.

She took her knife away from his crotch, leaving a small nick on his inner thigh that would hopefully serve as a good enough reminder of what he was supposed to do.

Of course, the temptation to hurt him more brutally was there. She knew that if Joel came home and she was covered in blood - he would help her clean up. He would help her hide the body. But Ellie knew that this was about something bigger than herself, her own rage, her own guilt.

It was about keeping your conscience clean.

She knew that if you ever found out that she had killed your brother, no matter the reason, no matter the situation - the guilt would fall back onto you. You would spend the rest of your days wondering how you could have done things differently to solve a problem that was never your fault. So she would take the burden of guilt or fault off of you, and force it onto him - where it belonged. He would get to live, but he would never go near you. Not ever again.

After thinking about all of this for a moment, and calming herself, Ellie unceremoniously cut him down, letting him fall into the middle of the floor with a grunt. She pulled his pants back up and shoved a bag over his head. The bag something else that Joel had woven into the plan - another scare tactic.

She kept his arms bound behind him as she struggled to lug him all the way across town without getting caught. He struggled against her hold and spoke up every now and then, demanding to be released, but Ellie simply kicked him and told him to shut up. It worked well. It seemed that he was truly afraid of her, because he was much more docile now than the man who had risked hanging himself to kick her in the head.

She dumped him on the back porch of your house and cut the ties on his wrist. He could feel stupid later for the fact that he had been in town the whole time, not secluded off in the woods someplace you would never find him. He yanked the bag off his head and looked up at Ellie with pure scorn in his eyes, and she held up her knife once more, reminding him just how sharp it was as she left him with some parting words.

“Sundown. Tomorrow.” She told him firmly. “Or Y/N won’t even find the pieces of you scattered out in those woods.”

Ellie was surprised when he didn’t say a single word, didn’t even hurl any insults at her back as she walked away.

She had no idea that he was happy to cut his losses, thinking that you weren’t worth the trouble if Ellie was willing to kidnap, threaten, and eventually kill for you.

Ellie went to bed early and hoped that everything had worked.

She woke up from a deep, hazy sleep to pounding on her door.

She struggled to get out of bed, thinking there was some kind of emergency. She flicked on a light and opened the door, and you came rushing inside.

Ellie almost didn’t see you through her sleep dulled eyes, her lids still half-closed, but she recognized your voice as she closed the door behind you.

“My brother is gone.” You said, your voice edging between worry and fear. Ellie thought you might be relieved. She didn’t know that you were still tentative - scared that he might come back, terrified it was a trick. “It’s just - he just packed up all his things, and when I woke up, he was gone. And he left me this note.”

You thrust a piece of paper into Ellie’s hands, and she blinked her sticky eyes open a few times in order to read it. She scanned over the messy writing, barely absorbing it. It was some bullshit about how Jackson ‘wasn’t right for him’ and he felt ‘suffocated’ and he was going to travel to catch up with your group who had gone to the coast, he thought he was a man of the sea, blah blah - but you needed to stay in Jackson, because it would be safer for you.

“It’s a trick.” You announced as Ellie read over the words. Your voice quaked, your throat tight with fear. When Ellie looked up, tears were dancing in your eyes. There were sharp scratches on your neck - they were scabbing over, and a greenish bruise on your cheek that was fading. “It’s gotta be a trick. He’s testing me. He wants me to - to follow him? Or he’s coming back, or-”

Ellie tossed the paper aside, uncaring of where it landed, and then stepped toward you, grasping your face with gentle hands.

“It’s okay.” She said calmly. “He’s gone.”

She echoed the words you had said that night, letting you know that she had miraculously granted your request.

If it was true, then you would consider her a guardian angel. But you almost couldn’t bring yourself to believe it.

“You did something.” You said quietly. It wasn’t accusing. It was a simple truth. You swallowed thickly. You waited before you asked your next question. “Is he dead?”

You would have hated to think that Ellie would go through so much trouble to frame his murder as him simply leaving town.

“Would you hate me if he was?” She replied.

Strangely enough, you had no clue how to feel.

Ellie saw the warring on your face, the years of pain tethering in your soul, and hoped to release you from it.

“He’s alive.” She sighed, a heavy awful truth floating from her lips. You looked somewhat relieved, but then that fear pricked into your big, sad eyes once again. “He’s not coming back. I can promise you that.”

If he did, Ellie would kill him. But she didn’t speak those words to you.

You lunged forward then, tightening your hands around her back, squeezing her with intense, passionate ferocity as you pressed your face into her shoulder and began to sob. Ellie held you dutifully, trying her hardest to be gentle with you, petting smoothly over your back as her heart ached at the sound of your cries. She had no idea that it was relief - pure relief exhaling from your lungs, the feeling of finally being able to breathe with the presence of that dark tormentor no longer hanging over your life.

“Thank you.” You sobbed, clutching onto her shirt. “Thank you, Ellie. Thank you.”

…

When Joel came back from his patrol, he asked where Ellie had buried the body. She sighed and told him that the guy had made the wise decision to leave town. Completely of his own accord. He shrugged and said he didn’t care either way - he just wanted to meet the ‘lovely young woman who was worth going through all the trouble for’.

Ellie invited you over for steaks at Joel’s house a few days later, and artfully dodged all the questions about whether you were dating or not.

…

A few months later, when winter thawed out and spring had come around once again, Ellie had taken you beyond the walls of Jackson once again, both of you delighting in the purity of everything nature had to offer, and your newfound freedom.

“Is it just me or is the air out here… fresher?” You posed, inhaling deeply as you threw your head back, truly basking in the nature around you.

Ellie giggled at this, and you threw a smile back over your shoulder at her. You walked along the path, bobbing between the trees and enjoying the greenery as it thawed out from the snow.

“It’s the mountains, there’s nothing but fresh air up here.” Ellie chuckled. “As far as I’m concerned, it beats living in the city. That place stunk to high hell. People piled on top of each other, old rotting buildings, no trees anywhere.”

You let out a small laugh at this. It wasn’t Ellie’s greatest work in comedy, but your lungs felt much lighter these days, and she soaked up the sound like the new saplings soaking up the sun.

She had also noticed your choice of attire for the day. For her, there was still that small nip in the air, something indicating that there might be one last frost left to the year, something that made her want to wear a sweater. But you had worn a short sleeved tee shirt with your jeans, and Ellie preened at the fact that there was not a single bruise anywhere on your skin. Some old scars that she could never have the hopes of reversing, but more and more lately, your smile outshined all of them.

“Ooh, look at this!” Ellie came to crouch at a small patch of grass, what you didn’t recognize as thick reeds that were somewhat special to her.

“What is it?” You asked.

“Joel taught me this.” She noted, making you even more intrigued.

Ellie plucked one out of the dirt, and held it between her two palms before she held it up to her two lips and blew - it made a sharp noise like a duck’s call, and you instantly began giggling at this delightfully strange sound.

“Okay, how did you do that?” You asked, kneeling down beside her.

Ellie grabbed up another one and put it in your hands, positioning them well. After a nod from her, you put it to your lips and gave a hard breath. You dissolved into laughter once again when it made that strange sound.

“I love that.” Ellie commented, absolutely beaming herself.

“What? You play the guitar but your favorite instrument is grass?” You joked.

“No.” She replied. “I love that smile.” She told you, motioning up toward your face. “That’s why I fell in love with you.”

“Els.” You murmured quietly, unable to truly explain the wave of emotion that came over you - being intensely thankful for her saving you, changing the course of your life, the swelling of love you felt for her and how it only grew with time.

Ellie didn’t need words. She leaned in and kissed you then, and you - for the first time in a long time - relaxed into her love and let yourself be happy.

From time to time, you were tempted to ask what exactly it was that she had done to make your brother go away. But as the months ticked on and your relationship developed - as Ellie helped you navigate your freedom and enjoy the sweeter things in life, you found that you truly didn’t care.

...

A/N: This is a standalone oneshot, so please do not ask about a sequel or a continuation for it, because there won't be one. If you liked it and you want to comment on it, please comment on the body of work that I have written. Or feel free to check out the many other works I have written on my TLOU Masterlist. Thank you!!

#sundrop writes #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #the last of us

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