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biteofcherry · 8 months

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Darkness between the stars

Darth!Steve Rogers x female reader

Author's Note: On my recent wave of feels after Anakin's cameo in Ahsoka, I couldn't stop thinking about powerful Jedi Steve Rogers, who was once galaxy's hope, turning dark. This is very loosely inspired by Anakin's storyline, without going full on Vader-look (because Steve's face is too pretty to cover it with that ugly helmet; sorry, I make the rules here).

summary: You followed your Master when he gave in to the dark side, not believing the twisted values the Emperor spew, but because you couldn't imagine being anywhere other than by Steve's side. Even if you accepted the fact Steve's heart may forever belong to the woman he once loved.

warnings: angst; hurt/comfort; soft dark!Steve Rogers; some power imbalance; choking kink; implied age gap (since Steve was the Reader's Master), but Reader is of age

The threat of thudding footsteps caused a spike of fear among the Imperial officers passing in the corridor outside - you sensed the stench of it. You could easily imagine them scattering away as quickly as possible, or trying to blend with the walls.

As cowardly as it was, it was also wise. Finding yourself in the path of an angry Sith Lord would end badly.

Thankfully, the medical droid stitching up your leg had no real human feelings, so it continued its work without a hitch even as the seal to the med bay opened and Steve stormed in.

All in his towering, dark glory.

Black robe swiping the floor, deadly lightsaber strapped to the utility belt, shiny buckles on the reinforced leather gloves on his hands.

Darth Nomad. Sith Lord.

Once upon a time a great, idealistic Jedi Master, Steve Rogers.

Though the Jedi Order no longer existed and his path had turned dark and bloody, he still remained Steve to you.

Only in privacy. Always in your heart, even as you addressed him as Master or Nomad when other's ears and eyes were on you. He owned you; his claws ran far deeper and clutched stronger than Palpatine’s influence on him.

You harbored a crush on your Master for years, hiding your thoughts and longing every day. As well every night, when you rested in your chamber at the Jedi temple and he returned into the arms of his beloved wife in her lush suite.

When you followed Steve to kneel at the Emperor's feet and pledge loyalty to the dark side, you perfectly sold the lie of the ambitious, proud apprentice who was bitter the Jedi were too weak. You claimed to want to continue your training and be on the winning side, the side of true power.

What you truly wanted was to be with Steve, even if it was only to suffer unrequited love as you helped him drown the world in blood.

The Emperor somehow bought it, or maybe simply thought it useful to have you serve the Empire, no matter your actual motivation.

However, Steve saw right through you.

He didn't confront you right away. Not for months. Until the two of you were on a solo quest, treading through the lush flora of an outer-rim planet, searching for an ancient artifact - much like you used to do as Jedi.

Did he catch you looking at his profile too long? Did he sense the change in your heartbeat whenever he was close? Was your Force bond so strong that he glimpsed into your desperate dreams?

Or maybe Steve simply knew you so well, after all the years.

When he reached for you, when he touched you, you knew it could deepen your later suffering. But you still gave in, if only for one night. If only you could taste him and fall apart under his command this one time.

But it wasn’t just one night. Nor a few chance encounters over the years.

Whatever it was between the two of you, has become a regularity. A wicked norm that sated, as well enhanced the craving that’s been burning inside of you. It seemed there was never enough; the desire for him simmered beneath your skin every day and your desperate love pushed you further into howling darkness.

Eerie, that love was what pushed Steve to the dark side as well.

There were other factors, layers upon layers, but it was the heart that sealed the deal. For the both of you.

Your tragedy was that Steve’s heart would never be yours.

So you fed off on everything else you were given - Steve’s attention, his lust, his protectiveness.

Which was why he stomped through the Executor like a deadly storm cloud - in his case, literally deadly - led by rage.

You knew it was mostly directed at the scum who dared to wound you, but some of it was also at you. For being careless in your small mission, which you attempted to keep secret from him.

His black cloak floated ominously around Steve as he stepped inside; his fingers clenched into fists, stretching the leather of his gloves.

“How serious is the injury?” Even in anger, Steve’s voice remained calm.

You opened your mouth to say it’s not that bad, but he gave you a pointed look that meant he wasn’t talking to you and that you were in serious trouble. The kind that may end with your ass bruised.

“A level two blaster wound to the thigh,” the medical droid reported. “It missed the artery and the muscle will rebuild with the protein enhancer we’ve injected. Patient’s skin has been sutured.”

Steve’s gaze flicked to your bare leg, eyes narrowing as he assessed the dressing over your wound. The droid wasn’t bothered by it, but if a living person was here instead, they’d sweat in fear of his disapproval.

“The patient may experience impaired mobility for the next day. No other complications are expected.”

Steve nodded, his eyes still on your leg. Though his trimmed beard gentled the sharp line of his jaw, you still saw the nervous tick of muscle. Then his gaze shifted along your half-dressed body and settled on your face.

He stepped closer to the bed and cupped your chin. Scent of familiar leather pleasantly dispersed the annoying smell of medical antiseptics.

“I’m gone for two days and you get yourself in trouble, Stardust.” Steve squeezed your chin a tad harder. “Should I keep you at my side at all times, like an irresponsible apprentice freshly in training?”

“Or-” he leaned in; the blue of his eyes searing like his old lightsaber- “maybe I’ll confiscate your weapon and keep you as a bedwarmer only?”

Before you managed to utter I’m sorry for failing, Master, Steve was lifting you in his arms. Stealing your breath with the gesture.

One arm beneath your knees, the other under your back. Your heart stopped for a moment, then rushed in a rapid pattern as he carried you out of the med bay.

It had to be a bizarre sight - the Dark Lord of the Sith, most feared in the whole galaxy Darth Nomad, who snapped necks with a flick of a wrist; was carrying a woman through the Star Dreadnought.

However, no one dared to stare, or even flick a curious glance your way.

Steve showed softness when you both laid spent after fucking, or simply wrapping an arm around your middle when you were sleeping, but he never carried you like that.

Even when he wanted you in a certain position when he fucked you, he either told you to do it the right way, or used the Force to bend your body how he wished.

Being cradled in his arms, out in the open, soothed that deep longing for true care on his part. Taunted you with deep feeling that you knew would never be real.

“Something’s troubling you.” Steve stated when the double-sealed entrance to his (and yours) chambers closed behind you. “And it’s not your injury, I sense.”

He crossed the space to the bedroom, where cold blue light changed into unsettling red that you learned to associate with safety. Black and red used to mean the enemy, the danger, even death, but Steve made you love it. Conditioned you to see it as the setting you belonged in.

“Well, my failure in successfully finishing my deal on Serenno,” you shrugged, but instantly cringed as you felt that lie failed miserably.

You weren’t a bad liar. When it came to Steve, however, it was as if the ability was malfunctioning.

At least ever since he slipped his gloved finger between your lips for the first time and softly commanded you to admit how much you craved him.

You yelped as Steve suddenly dropped you onto the bed. The muscle in your thigh spasmed, sending a painful jolt. Fingers gripping the dark sheets, you breathed through the wave of ache as you lifted your gaze to look at Steve.

His black robe dropped to the floor. He set his lightsaber down on the black, lacquered table, then unbuckled his utility belt. It fell to the floor with a dull thud.

“You do not lie to me, Stardust,” Steve’s glare was a warning as he braced his hands on his hips and waited for your honesty.

The reason hidden deep in your heart could bring you more trouble than withholding the truth from Steve. You feared speaking it aloud may cut you out of Steve’s life completely, if he learned that you were desperate for so much more than his cock.

But there was no way of hiding it from him for long. Not when he was on a hunt to rip that truth out of you.

Steve would get to it one way, or another. One could perhaps be a sexually torturous way, but there was also a chance of him reaping it from your mind with the Force.

You took a deep breath, forcing a cold sheet to form around your fluttering heart and make you seem indifferent to your own emotions, like you did at the beginning of your life on the dark side. Your fingers tightened their grip on the smooth, dark sheets.

“Your gesture startled me,” you admitted. “I know I’m of certain value to you, as a lover and as a former Padawan. Being carried like that, like you cared, incited foolish thoughts in my head.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed as a frown marred his forehead. His head tilted slightly to the side, his gaze never allowing yours to drop.

“Elaborate,” he requested, but you knew that despite the calm tone it was a command.

“It almost ignited a stupid hope to have your heart,” you spat out bitterly, “which would never happen, I’m aware, Master. I know there was only one woman who had your heart and it lies buried with your wife.”

With the woman who wasn’t strong enough to pull him off that edge of destruction, nor had the guts to fall with him and rule by his side.

Steve’s hand shot forward, fingers curled in an open grip. The yank of incredibly powerful Force pulled your body upwards, as if you were a featherlight ragdoll. He made your body flow in the air, inches above the floor.

The pressure around your neck cinched. He wasn’t touching you, yet it felt as if Steve’s gloved fingers were wrapped around the front of your neck, squeezing your throat.

It spiked fear and adrenaline, but also roused your body in ways no other lover ever could.

Your body froze in place right in front of Steve, the Force still keeping you hanging in the air.

“You are right to say my heart was buried with my wife.” Steve growled through clenched teeth. “It’s left in the past that we burned to the ground.”

A gasp escaped your lips as Steve’s hand firmly wrapped around your neck. Though he still used the Force to move your body, it was also his sheer strength behind his movement as he walked you backwards until your back met the wall.

“You’re not in my heart, Stardust, because I no longer have one,” his hot breath tickled your cheek as Steve’s face inched even closer.

“You’re not my love. You’re more. You’re m i n e.”

What filled your heart felt similar to the overwhelming lightness you used to be connected with, once upon a time.

The Force eased back and your body sagged, but Steve’s hand was still firm on your throat. Holding you up as your toes tried to reach the floor and give you some support.

No, he wouldn’t let you down easily. He would drive in the point that he was your support. He was your sustenance. He would hold you up, as well destroy you.

“You’re my fucking everything!”

Steve bit your bottom lip, making you cry out at the sudden sting. Then the flick of his tongue soothed it before he swiped between your parted lips. The way Steve kissed you was more consuming than the darkness you dwelled in; more burning than the lightsaber’s blade.

When he pulled away, your lips were swollen and tingling, and your cunt was pulsing with need.

“You’ll repent for endangering what’s mine-” Steve’s chuckle was a brush of tempting darkness as his free hand slid up your wounded thigh- “tomorrow, when it’s fully healed.”

“Yes, Master,” you moaned as his fingers changed their course and teased your folds beneath the short, medical robe.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #Darth!Steve Rogers #Jedi!Steve Rogers #dark Steve Rogers #(In the aspect of being a Sith Lord)#soft dark Steve Rogers #(when it comes to reader)#Darkness between the stars

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ultimate-babygirl · 6 months

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AAAAAUGH Thinkign ab platonic yandere. They don’t want sex or romance they just want you to be their best friend and only theirs.

Similar train of thought: yandere family. You’re their kid, their sibling, their parent. It doesn’t matter as long as you belong to them.

One example I rlly love is the very few platonic ciel fics out there. Where ciel just wants a parent figure so badly so he refuses to let his nanny leave. He just wants to be a child for once, even if it means keeping you locked up so you won’t run off. After all you shouldn’t be afraid of a child anyway. Why won’t you just pity him and give him what he deserves?

Something I’ve been thinking ab a lot is platonic jjk yanderes. Specifically the first years but like. Some of the curses too,,,, and geto and gojo,,,,,,,,

I mean you couldn’t rlly blame megumi or yuuji for wanting someone to themselves. They’ve lost so many people, can’t they just have this one thing? Same for Geto and gojo. It’s lonely being the most powerful people in the world. They just want someone to be soft for.

AND THE CURSES RAAAAAH. I can see why people would think they’d be more on the sexual end of things and im not against that but I think it’s important to note that a lot of curses were once human (sukuna and kenjaku for example). Imagine being someone they felt close to before they finally changed. You’re horrified by them but you’re also the only person they even like and they won’t let you leave them. Sukuna would hold you close. He’s give you anything to keep you happy as long as you’d just stay with him.

Kenjaku is one I think would be on the familial end. You’re like his kid and he doesn’t want you to grow up. You’re so small and helpless and you don’t really understand that he’s not a good person. He’d hate for you to grow up and not see him as your father anymore. He’ll do anything to ensure you remain his little one.

#jujutsu kaisen #black butler #ciel phantomhive #megumi fushiguro #gojo satoru #yuuji itadori #geto suguru #kenjaku #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #yandere #platonic yandere #I’m aromantic and sometimes i just rlly love this idea

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gabessquishytum · 4 months

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So I've had this idea swimming in my head for a bit and I don't think I'm gonna do anything with it, so I'm throwing it at you!

Human AU where Hob owns a bar called The White Horse and while the bar is legit, some of the dealings that go on in it are...not so much. Perhaps a bit Mafia adjacent.

One day, the prettiest little thing walks into his bar, and Hob nearly throws him out because he just can't believe the Dream D'Endless is old enough to drink, but his license isn't faked (Hob would know), so after some grumbling, Hob lets him stay. He finds out that Dream is charming and funny, if not a bit of a brat.

One day, Dream shows up to the bar with a black eye. Hob tries to get the story out of him, but Dream refuses to say anything about it and demands either his usual order or he'll walk out. Hob doesn't budge. Dream leaves, and then eventually stops coming to the White Horse.

Hob's not concerned. He's not. But he starts looking into Dream a bit anyways, and he finds out Dream's a sugar baby for none other than corrupt businessman Roderick Burgess. Apparently, Roderick's penthouse condo wasn't too bar from The White Horse, and whenever he'd need to hold business meetings at home, he'd just kick Dream out and Dream would hang out at The White Horse until Roderick was done.

Hob's pretty sure he can guess what caused Dream's black eye, one of Burgess's business deals went south recently and Hob wouldn't put it past the cranky old man to take it out on his live in lover. He's also kind of pissed that Dream even agreed to be Roderick's sugar baby but he's not going to examine that jealousy too closely. He's now totally worried about Dream's safety, so he puts out some feelers with his information network, and lo and behold Dream hasn't left the condo in months but Roderick has.

Hob has a bad feeling about all of this so one night when he knows Roderick's going to be gone, he breaks into the condo and finds Dream tied up and naked, and also badly beaten. He frees Dream, and takes him back to his place, and whoops that starts off a turf war. How dare Hob take what rightfully belonged to Roderick Burgess? Hob doesn't care, he's livid on Dream's behalf, and he's more than ready to rain hell.

Dream's highly pissed off at Roderick too. After all, he did everything Roderick wanted him to, even after he'd blackmailed Dream into becoming his sugar baby, and he still had the gall to go and mistreat Dream. He's ready to offer up his body off to Hob to do with as he pleases if it means he'll finally be free of Roderick. Good thing Hob's already halfway in love already ;D

Ajsjdjfjsj yes!!! I love the idea that Hob is trying very hard to be a normal and upstanding citizen, and then Dream walks into his life... all bets are off, Hob will burn the world down for this beautiful man.

But Dream is frustrated to find that Hob is quite the gentleman! He doesn't touch or fondle Dream while nursing him back to health, he doesn't get frustrated when Dream flinches away from him, and he actually jumps out of the bed when Dream crawls in beside him one night, determined to "pay his dues". He sends Dream back to the guest room like a stern and disappointed teacher, which is... actually unfairly sexy of him.

And yes Hob is trying to be a gentleman, he actually is! But he also just has a lot on his plate right now... going to war with Burgess has taken a toll, and Hob has been running around to call in favours with old friends and protect his turf. He's pretty sure that Burgess is going to burn through his resources before anything serious happens, but Hob is still sleeping with a revolver under his pillow. He doesn’t want Dream to see that!

When Hob gets injured in a shootout (in which he also ends up kissing Burgess, yay), Dream flips the tables and nurses Hob back to health. Hob can't exactly protest when he's covered in kisses by the darling young man he's come to think of as his. And when he's better, Dream purrs something about wanting Hob to fuck the memory of Burgess away...

They do it for the first time up against the bar (the pub is closed for repairs after the shootout). Hob doesn't ask for ID this time. He knows that Dream has proved himself quite the man in the last few weeks, and he's going to be Hob’s man from now on <3

#seiya-starsniper #the sandman #dreamling #nsft #mafia au

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blood-sucking-freaks · 1 year

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Texas Chainsaw Massacre Facts

TCM is one of my favorite movies so here's some facts :)

-Bubba's real name is not known. Neither is Nubbins. But, at one point Drayton calls Bubba 'Junior', so we know he's either named after Grandpa Sawyer or their late/absentee father, though as neither are named, Bubba's name was never revealed.

-Gunnar Hansen wanted Bubba to be able to speak broken sentences, but the idea was shut down by Tobe Hooper

-Was originally supposed to be titles 'Head Cheese'. The title was later changed to 'Leatherface'. A week before filming was supposed to begin the title was finally changed to 'The Texas Chainsaw Massacre'.

-The dinner scene was shot in one day. It took 27 hours. It was so hot that the meat was rotting, so between the heat and the smell, cast and crew members were running out of the house every few minutes to throw up. It was filmed in one day because John Dugan, Grandpa Sawyer's actor, refused to sit through the 10 hour makeup process more than once, so all of the scenes with Grandpa had to be filmed at once.

-Most cast and crew, especially Gunnar, didn't like Paul Partain, Franklin's actor, as he stayed in character during the entire process of filming. When the two met again after filming and Gunnar realized that Paul was simply method acting they became close friends up until Paul's death.

-Gunnar was avoided by most people during filming. The cast of Bubba's victims avoided him because they didn't want to be around their killer. Gunnar wasn't allowed to take off his wool costume, so the heavy clothing and the Texan summer heat resulted in him being very smelly.

-Marilyn Burns was really cut during the scene where Grandpa drinks Sally's blood. After multiple takes of the scene, Gunnar got annoyed and secretly took the protective tape off the knife being used and actually cut her to get a more authentic reaction.

-The chainsaw was real and almost hurt several cast and crew members, Gunnar included.

-The armadillo in the beginning of the movie was taxidermized by Tobe Hooper.

-During the time of filming, the 'Sawyer house' was owned and lived in by a family, so the production was only allowed to rent the right section of the house.

-The house is now relocated and restored, and used as a restaurant called the Grand Central Cafe.

-The bones and meat were real, as it was cheaper to rent real human bones and use actual dead animals than to make fake ones.

-Makeup artist Dottie Pearl accidentally injected herself with formaldehyde during the preparations of the dead animals.

-Tobe Hooper got the initial idea for the movie while he was Christmas shopping in the hardware section of a crowded store, when he saw a chainsaw display while thinking of a way to get out of the crowd.

-Edwin Neal, Nubbin's actor, is a Vietnam veteran. When asked how hard filming the movie was, he said that he's rather go back to Vietnam than reshoot the movie. He also said that if he ever saw Tobe Hooper again he might kill him.

-The film was shot mostly in chronological order.

-The last shot filmed was Bubba cutting his leg. Gunnar wore a metal plate over his leg and a piece of meat and a blood bag was placed on top.

-Gunnar's costume had one dyed shirt, so it couldn't be washed during the entire time filming.

-The movie took four weeks of filming every day, though it was only supposed to take two weeks.

-The victim's van belonged to one of the sound recordists, Ted Nicolaou.

-Bubba's teeth were special prosthetics made by Gunnar's dentist.

-At 6'4, Gunnar got multiple slight head injuries due to doorways and other objects. The Leatherface mask limited his peripheral vision severely. Even at his height, he had to wear three inch heels (which makes Bubba canonically 6'7).

-By the last day's shoot, Marilyn Burns' costume was so drenched in blood that it was practically solid. While most of the blood is fake, a lot of it was real, as she got badly cut on branches and undergrowth during the scene where Bubba chases Sally to the gas station,

-During the last night of shooting, the cast got high on pot brownies brought by Dottie Pearl. The brownies had to be hidden when Tobe Hooper's mother visited the set.

-Nubbin's death scene was shot in reverse.

-The narrator for the intro was payed in weed.

-During the scene where Bubba and Nubbins bring Grandpa downstairs, Gunnar kept pushing the rocking chair forwards, sending John falling into Edwin, which left neither party very happy. Gunnar kept doing this until John leaned into his ear and whispered threats.

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pinejayy · 8 months

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╰┈➤ Scars || Demon Slayer Drabbles/Headcanons

including: the upper moons

summary: @haikiria-san asked for upper moons having their significant other having scars and a story like obanai.

warnings: scar mention,, bad past

Kokushibo

-He would disappointed in the people who mistreated you, like how could someone treat a human being so badly? And to also harm them and treat them like some kind of animal. But you don't need to worry about getting hurt anymore, he will protect you, and if anyone tries to lay a finger on you he'll hurt them and make them suffer. And he also knows that you could be very insecure about your scars on your face and he always tries his best to cheer you up. The Demon doesn't mind if you cover them up or not, he won't push you into showing him your scars. But if you do show him your scars he place gentle kisses along them. And whisper sweet things. "I know you're hurting my love, but from now on I'll protect you."

Kokushibo will gladly hold you close as you vent about your past, and as you're venting he'll run his fingers along your shoulders and place small kisses along your face.

Kokushibo will protect you like there's no tomorrow, he doesn't allow the other Upper Moons near you, and if they dare say anything about your scars he will slash their throats.

Douma

-He would be very interested into your past, you had a tragic back story. He knew human being were terrible creatures but he didn't know that they were capable of hurting someone so badly, to have them locked in a cage and to scar them. When you opened up to him he was shocked that you had so much trust on him and yes you were hesitant at first but you really do care about him and with that being said he will protect you. He won't allow anyone near you, and oh boy! If one of his Cult members were to get near you he'll give them a slow death. Also Douma can't help it but admire your scars, like he says they give you personality and that you look like you're always smiling. "I know I can't change the past, but I will protect you from now on."

Douma's favorited thing to do is run his nails along your scars as your sitting on his lap. "My, what beauty scars my Love, they really do bring you together."

Douma is a prick tbh, but he does care about you. Well in his own way, yes he's very playful but he will do anything to protect you. No one will harm you while you belong to him.

Akaza

-Oh boy! He would be heart broken. How could someone you call family hurt you and lock you in a cage! How could a parent do that to their child and not feel bad for it. He wishes he could save you back then, but he can't change the past. But he can protect you for the future. And he will! Akaza felt really connected when you told him about your past, and when you showed him your scars. He really felt appreciated that you have trust in him. Even with him being an Upper Moon, you still trusted him. With that being said this boy won't let anyone harm you, he will always keep an eye on you. He will always be by your side, he just wants to make you feel safe and loved. And your scars won't change anything, he'll see them as battle scars. “With me by your side no one will hurt you, not a single soul my Dear.”

Akaza would want to be by your side all the time, but that's not possible with him going on missions. So before leaving for a mission he'll give you a big hug and kiss your scars. "I'll be back soon as possible Y/N."

Akaza hates the other Upper Moons especially Douma. So if Douma were to say something about you or your scars he would see red.

Hantengu

-Oh Gezz...This man would be sobbing like crazy when you told him about your past. How could Humans be so terrible, how could they do that to an innocent child! Hantengu just wants to sob as he holds you close, he wants to be there for you. And when you showed him your scars he went crazy. You had so much trust in him! And him from all Demons! But he can’t help but feel anger towards the people who did this to you, if he could he would slaughter them and eat their flesh. But since they are dead he only hopes that they are burning in hell. That’s where they belong. But Hantengu promised you that he will protect you, and he will always be by your side like a lost puppy. "I wish I could make the people who caused you so much pain suffer."

Hantengu would be less of a crying coward around you, he wants to be the one to protect you. And he will protect you, and if you need more protection he won't hesitate to send the clones to protect you. Because wow imagine four Demons protecting you. Now that's a story for a other time.

Hantengu can't help but feel sadness when he sees your scars. He'll hold you and cry softly. "Oh my Love, I'll keep you safe."

Gyokko

-Hyo Hyo Hyo! When you told him about your tragic past he couldn't help but laugh at you. Was this some kind of sick joke of yours? So at first he didn't take you so seriously but when you showed him your scars to prove your point he went pale...paler? So you weren't lying about your past? And if so why did you tell him? Did you really trust him that much and if you did he was touched. I mean of course you would trust him, I mean who wouldn't! But Gyokko would honestly pity you about your past but then again humans are terrible so he isn't surprised that someone could do this. But this doesn't change the way he thinks about you, you're still the same person he fell in love with. But from now on he's going to protect you and keep an eye on you. "Don't worry my precious Art Piece, when you're with me nothing will hurt you."

Gyokko would act like he doesn't really care about your past but deep down he feels bad. Yes he knows how humans can be, but why you? What did you do to deserve this pain?

Gyokko would look at your scars "Hmm...I know it hurts. But it makes you unique."

Gyutaro

-A other reason why he hates humans, how could someone do this to you! Especially if they were your family. How could your family lock you up in a cage and cause damage to your beautiful face. Family are supposed to protect and love each other! But he does feel appropriated when you did open up to him about your past and when you showed him your scars. When he saw your scars he couldn't help but run a shaky finger on your scars. Frowning and shaking his head in disappointment. Gyutaro wishes he could make your family pay for what they did. But as for now he will protect you along with protecting Daki. You two are the only things he cares about in this cruel world. "Y/N, I promise to love and protect you. Nothing will harm you ever again. Not on my watch."

Gyutaro hates whenever anyone goes near you, well besides Daki. She is the only person he can trust. But anyone else is a big no. And if they go near you he'll rip their heads off.

Gyutaro won't care about your scars, and if you're feeling insecure about them he'll kiss them gently and remind you how beautiful and strong you are.

#demon slayer #kny #x reader #reader insert #kokushibo #Douma #akaza #hantengu #Gyokko #gyutaro #Headcanons #drabble

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werecreature-addicted · 3 months

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Hey! Lately I've been watching videos of reggaeton artists or some artists from the United States, and I noticed that the girls who are usually the models in those videos, like for example the girls who dance with Ariana Grande in "7 rings", are girls very pretty and they wear very nice clothes, sexy clothes in fact, and well, you know how those girls dance in the videos, how do you think the werewolf would take it knowing that his human girlfriend works in that? She is one of those girls in the background of music videos that occasionally focus on the camera for a few seconds because of her dancing and stuff, it is obvious that those videos have millions of views by the artist's fans, although we know that there are men and monsters who see those videos for the pretty girls, how do you think the werewolf would react? 😗😇

I think as long as the comment online stay online he wouldn't have a problem. Of course his girl is the prettiest most talented baby in the whole world, he's happy you get the recognition you deserve. He might ask that you put the fact that you are happily taken in your bio but other than that he doesn't mind too much, he'd never ask you to put your dreams on hold just because he's possessive.

He doesn't like it when make-up artists and costume people get too close to you, but again he tries not to interfere with your work. he knows its purely professional but he can't help but get at least a little upset when two guys are going back and forth on what thong you should wear under your short shorts for some music video.

He also hates your fans. especially if they're monsters. this creep can smell you're taken but can't help but gush over you anyway. again, comments about how badly some loser wants to bang you don't really get under his skin, but seeing someone in person blush and stutter as they try talking to you? it drives him insane.

Maybe when you get home you can put on one of those reveling costumes and he can remind you who you belong to.

hope the makeup team has time to cover all those hickeys and bruises up. whoops.

#monster imagine #monster fucker #monster boyfriend #monster #werewolf #teratophillia #werewolf x reader #werewolves #werewolf boyfriend

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ghostsvacuumcleaner · 10 months

Text

Shades of Red - Chapter III | 5k

chapter one | chapter two ao3 | masterlist

✦ Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x civilian f! reader ✦ Summary: The sole survivor of a terrorist attack that killed over a hundred. The soldier responsible for saving her. He wants to help you, but his own trauma make him withdraw when he wants to get closer and intoxicate when he wants to remedy. He kisses your scars and hopes you’ll runaway. He wants you to run away. But you won’t. ✦ TW: NSFW, explicit, f!reader, little to none f! physical appearence descriptions, canon typical violence, mentions of abuse and trauma/PTSD, bit of gore, mental illness mentions, slowburn; ✦ Chapter TW: trauma mentions as always, slight mention of obsessive behavior just again! bit of stalker!ghost

A/N: Hi girlies! I'm proud to say the story is finally about to begin for real and I'm hoping for some feedback on pacing, how you guys thing it's going so far and any tips on how to get better if there's any. Thank you for reading me and I love y'all ♥

taglist: @simpinginthecorner; @ghostlythots; @fine141; @dmitriene; @maviee

Chapter 03 - Foolish Girl

“Can you handle more, fecker? I’m pretty sure he can.” a voice asked, and he felt another kick hit his head; there was blood everywhere, he could barely feel his own mouth but the taste of metal that kept dripping through his teeth, the open wounds on his lips.

He didn’t answer. Not a single word came out of his mouth, not a single whimper; it was like he was made of iron: he would flinch, but his sole skin seemed quite tough, hard; made of something other than human matter. It was impossible, they thought. Doesn’t this guy suffer? Is he dead?

No, he wasn’t dead. There were still heartbeats, he was still breathing. How was he breathing?

“Drown him.” the same voice ordered and they made a move around, three guys carrying him. He could think of nothing at all. How do you survive torture?

There’s a moment your body reaches complete numbness. You stop feeling pain, you stop feeling anything at all; it’s like it just awaits for you to give in. If a rookie asked Ghost how he manages to be unbeatable, to be beaten up fourteen times in a row and keep himself awake, he’d simply answer: refuse to give in.

When his body reaches complete numbness, he absorbs it. He does nothing. He resists, doesn’t close his eyes. He couldn’t deny he wanted, so badly, so many times to give up - but it wasn’t under his jurisdiction, to give up.

It had been days. Eight, to be more precise.

Eight days since you last saw or heard anything about Ghost or his squad. And also eight days since you finally decided to put some effort in yourself.

Just throwing aside all of your insecurities, your fears and the emptiness that overcame you ever since the incident wasn’t the most clever decision, you knew it very well; but the government assigned a team of health professionals to look after you: a psychiatrist, a therapist and of course, Doris, the nurse - your most recent friend.

Things were starting to catch. You started talking a little more and now you could get out of bed with a wheelchair. Your leg was still looking like jelly - but that didn’t stop you from getting dressed up that day, tuck yourself in the wheelchair and all on your own for the very first time, ride through the hospital hall. There was someone you needed to talk to; didn’t know exactly how that would go: it had been time since you last saw this man. The situation wasn’t the very best on your side, too much trauma, too many memories, and now, facing something you avoided from day one.

You stopped in front of his office door. Getting the elevators without your legs wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be, and there you were: your destination. Didn’t take you twenty minutes; that was good.

You took a deep breath and reached for the dark wooden door, big, beautiful: the type of office belonging to a very high pattern person. You knocked.

In not more than twenty seconds, the man’s form showed up in front of you; grey-ish hair, his white coat seeming to be perfectly cut and sewed to be his and his stethoscope hanging from his neck. A yellow smile awkwardly showed up on your face.

“Doctor Miller.” It was a mutter, almost inaudible. He seemed tired, sad, depressed. It’s how you expected him to be, if to be honest, and even so he had that tiny gentle smile printed on his lips.

“Well hello, little miss. I didn’t expect to see you so soon.” He admitted, before gesturing his hand towards you; you took it in a handshake. “I’m glad to see you’re getting better. Come in, please.”

“I’m trying.” You said, grabbing onto the wheelchair’s wheels and pushing yourself inside his office as he opened some space for you. The door was closed behind you, and your face gyrated, noticing the motion.

“I can imagine it’s not going to be so easy, right? I’ve been doing all efforts I can to push the media away from you, getting the best doctors I can involved in your treatment, et cetera.” He motioned with his hands as his hips laid back onto his wooden desk - same wood as the door - and crossed his arms. “Are they being nice to you?”

“Yes- god, yes. They are, I have nothing to complain about…” You responded quickly, feeling somewhat like a burden for hearing those words. “They’re great, yes.”

He nodded with his head, fixing his glasses from the tip of his nose and let out a sigh, finally. His eyes went down to the floor. “I’m glad then, missy. I’m glad.”

Silence fell over the two of you like the big elephant living in the room was taking over all the space that should belong to your air. The air you had to breathe - it was caught up in your throat. You felt your heart sinking and your body tensing up a little, and closed your eyes.

“I’m here for another reason, as you can possibly imagine.” You muttered.

Anthony interrupted you, “Please.” he closed his eyes, and his words got caught up in his throat. A lump there, you knew he was struggling to even think of a less painful way of doing this. “If you’re going to blame yourself then you should know that-”

“Anthony.” You said, your lips already trembling with the tears that formed in your eyes. “I’m really sorry.” You said simply and bluntly, not being able to hold back those painful grieving tears of yours.

He kept silent, and his face turned aside, the stern look on it never leaving but you knew it: in his deepest mind, he could not possibly blame you, but in his heart, seeing you was seeing the only remaining thing of the incident that killed his only child, his daughter - your best friend. And sometimes you couldn’t blame yourself either. For the past eight days, you’ve been avoiding thinking about Amelie. She, who gave off all the opportunities you needed to succeed in med school. One of the best people you ever met, now, had her name written as one of the first ones in a list of 102 victims of a fatal terrorist attack.

To his gut wrenching silence, you spoke again. “She didn’t deserve this.” you muttered, but didn’t dare talking about your own position on all this.

Nobody would like to hear someone else saying they should have died in place of your own child. Especially with this short spend of time - his grief was fresh as a recent stab in the heart.

“None of them did.” He said, and his voice was nothing but a wind whisper on a cold night. “It was a fatality. It’s nobody’s fault but those bastards who did this.” He kept on, swallowing dry and you could almost catch in the air the moment his feelings gravitated from sadness and sorrow to anger and hate, to pain; the glow in his eye changed and he didn’t dare to look at you. “So don’t blame yourself.”

You chewed in false, bite your tongue in an attempt to stop yourself from crying and speaking out everything in your mind.

Silence.

“I’d like to go to the memorial today.” You raised your face to him now, silent tears streaming down your cheeks. “I’ll drop it, Anthony. I just want to see her face again, say goodbye, and then I’ll vanish. I’m promising, I’ll vanish, I-” you tried to keep up, but Anthony turned to you abruptly and a gesture with his hand stopped your talking instantly.

“Drop it? No.” He shook his head, and his tone grew even more stern by the time he spoke. “Are you going insane, lass? Have you lost your senses, no! You won’t drop college because my daughter died.” He said in such a harsh tone it made you flinch a little. You didn’t expect such crude sincerity. “She would want you to continue.”

You shut your eyes tight, shook your head, trying to hold back the painful cry you had stuck in your throat, but this time no - you couldn’t.

“But it is not fair. It’s not fair.” You stuck your face between your hands and started gasping. It was impossible to hold back. The grief he felt was obviously stronger, harder than yours - of course losing a daughter wasn’t the same as losing a best friend.

Amelie had done for you more than anyone else in your life, but still, she was only a dear friend of yours. You didn’t have the right to cry this much, did you?

He lost his daughter. You survived the attack, she was supposed to have gone buying those donuts that day. You offered to go in her place.

It was your fault, wasn’t it?

Only survivor. The only survivor.

Anthony hugged you, tears streaming down his face as he almost lifted you from the wheelchair just to be able to hold you a little tighter in his arms, a fatherly embrace, like he had the opportunity of hugging his own daughter one last time before seeing her slip through his hands like water, dying in such a cruel, vile way. You never had a father, he’d occupy this spot for you ever since you arrived for the first time in this damn country.

He missed a daughter now; that was something else the two of you had in common now: grieving for Amelie.

━ ⟡ ━

There were way too many people there - more than he could ever count. Lots of pictures spread across the beautiful grass in the cemetery, the media recording every single movementation. The UK Intelligence leader was speaking, a speech - a coordinated, very planned and wisely written speech; one made to cause commotion, to stop spreading panic and to slightly criticize the media’s insistent attempts to make the population desperate.

Ghost took a look around, his eyes gleaming through the mask and scanning the surroundings of the immense park-cemetery. Wasn’t too hard finding you, standing with the help of two crutches in front of your wheelchair, siding with the podium in which the man spoke fluidly to the public. Your eyes were lost in the pictures by the floor, surrounded by flowers and candles, preaches for the peace of those who perished.

You were wearing a long white dress, covering your legs - he couldn’t tell the size of the scar but given the fact that you were standing, Ghost supposed it was getting better quickly. Good.

“I’ll walk a bit.” He stated, before giving his back to Gaz and starting to walk away. It was not that a man wearing military gear was precisely discrete among a big crowd of normally dressed civilians, but he for one was a very silent, smooth operator. He kept his distance from the inner part of the crowd, started walking through the surroundings. A slow walk, he kept looking at you, drinking in your emotions.

You were crying - nothing but silent tears, but substantial ones he could notice by the way the light moved and gleamed across your face. Thought to himself if that was only because of the awful colloquy, or if anything else happened in those eight days.

Well, a person in your situation didn’t need a precise reason to cry.

You wouldn’t notice, and in fact nobody else would - but the SWAT team designed to keep the area safe, that there was a man behind you. In distance, in long distance yes - but behind you .

He wore full dark clothes, a hoodie, his face was almost invisible from the distance the people in front of you were. And from even further behind them, Ghost noticed.

His posture changed by the moment he locked his breath on his lungs and tensed up; for a moment, he stopped listening to everyone around. The sounds went quiet, almost mute; the man in the podium had his mouth moving, but no sound coming out of it. Nothing.

In nature, a good predator approaches its prey from the blindspot. From the opposite direction where the cameras are, and if he further knows better - distant from the other animals as well. In the army, you get to learn that position, agility and attitude are three vital points to be considered before attempting an attack. Learning the enemy’s position and with a good aim, before he even tried to do any harm, Ghost could’ve had him on the floor, a bullet hole in his forehead and a crowd of horrified people around the man’s dead body.

Come on. You won’t get closer to her, will you, mate?

He was walking towards you.

You won’t try something. Won’t give me a reason to cancel your bloody name.

Was he grabbing something from his shirt? Something from the pocket of his hoodie, a little something?

Look at me.

He did.

His eyes catched up with Ghost’s, and almost like he could read his own future or in simple lack of courage, he took a step back. And then another. And another, and within seconds, he had his hands stuck in his hoodie pockets again, a straight up posture and nothing on his face anymore. Seemed to be enjoying the ceremony.

Ghost didn’t buy it. He glanced over at the other squad members, trying to see if anyone else but him had noticed the movementation - apparently, not.

He thought of reaching for the man in the crowd; they’d have a interesting chat if he got to lay hands on that cheap looking disguise of his. But when his eyes got back to the place where he was, the man had vanished like thin air.

━ ⟡ ━

Doris held up your wheelchair, folded, around one of her arms. You were walking towards the cemetery, and although you could simply let her push you around, you were enjoying walking by yourself with some help of your crutches.

“At least there was a ceremony. They could have let that pass, like they do to thousands of attacks around the world.” Doris mentioned, while you were concentrating all your energy in your own walking.

“You’d be a fool if you thought they’d let that pass, Doris. Look at where we are.” You argued, conscient of the fact that if you weren’t in such a favored country, perhaps things would be different now. Perhaps you wouldn’t be receiving so much help and attention from the media, or from the government itself. Proof of their selective worry.

“You’re right.” She nodded in a sigh, and looked over at you. “Are you sure you don’t need any help, dear? I can hold your arm at least-”

“No. Thank you, I’m doing well here.” You replied quite fast, without opening space for her to insist much. Even so, you expected to hear her voice in a grumpy complainment about your stubbornness, but instead, a deep charged voice came out and startled you.

“Girl.” He said, looking at you. His stature so tall it startled Doris off a little, too, although she seemed a little less surprised than you for seeing him. “May we talk for a bit?” He looked at Doris, like he was asking for her to excuse the two of you.

You kept two seconds of silence looking into the masked man that now towered over you, before Doris spoke out.

“I’ll be waiting back there in the car, okay, dear?” She asked, and in a nod the woman walked away leaving you with Ghost.

He offered an arm to you, which you eyed and promptly refused, waving your clutches.

“I’m fine with those.”

“Alright.” He nodded and walked a bit, standing by your side and keeping pace with your slow walking.

It wasn’t weird that he was in that place; it was a big event, being televised nationally. A ceremony to the dead, a mere way the government found to redeem themselves for being unable to keep harm from its citizens. Ghost was involved in all that, he of course would be there - but you didn’t expect this conversation to happen.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again. Ever, actually.” You admitted, while your eyes seemed focused on your feet while you walked.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you.” He replied, simply.

“That’s not what I said.” You quickly redeemed yourself, looking at him and stopping the walk. Ghost was looking at you too. “I just meant to say I thought you wouldn’t come back.”

“We’ll hope you never need to see me again, won’t we, miss?” He reasoned, and you raised your eyebrows in agreement.

“Don’t think your company is entertaining?” You gave some other suffered steps through the dirt path between the cemetery’s tombstones, and so did he.

“That’s not what I said.”

You smiled.

“Gotcha. So, should I suppose you have a reason to be here then?” you turned to him once again, holding your hair from flying away with the violent wind that took over the place in a matter of seconds. The clouds were moving - it seemed like it was about to rain.

“I’m here for the same reason as everyone else. The ceremony.” Ghost calmly replied. It seemed weird for you to not be able to read his reactions from the mask, but for some reason, you felt like he was being considerably less stern this particular day.

Maybe he felt bad for you.

“I mean talking to me, Simon. Not here in this place.”

You feared he’d correct you from calling him Simon. He didn’t.

“I know what you meant. Your answer is yes, girl, I have a reason.” He finally said, bluntly, and you kept silent waiting for the next sentences. “Did you receive any visits recently?”

“No one but you a week ago, and the doctors. Why?”

He didn’t answer your question, he simply placed his hands behind his back and straightened his posture. Then, silence.

“Simon?”

“No one. Are you sure?” He insisted.

You frowned your eyebrows slightly and stopped walking once again, putting yourself in front of him this time. You used your healthy leg as a support on the ground to pivot around yourself, and one of the clutches as the other support so you’d stand.

Something in this very calculated and conscient motion failed and you felt your feet step in false; the leg that shouldn’t be carrying weight did, for a second, fast enough for you to feel yourself almost collapse.

Ghost’s hands were quick in grabbing your arms and supporting you against his chest as you almost fell against him, with a small ‘ba-dump’ sound, and your hands now palming the big waistcoat of his tactic gear. You cursed under your breath.

“I’m sorry. And yes, I am sure, why.” You asked a little less patiently this time. His eyes were looking down at you, his hands still swallowing your thin arms like he feared you could fall from the least movement now.

You looked up at him only to meet his dark eyes through the mask and the black eyeshadow that surrounded his face around the eyes and nose, glaring at you.

It occurred to you that if you could possibly live under Ghost’s watch, then you wouldn’t be scared of anything in the world. But it was a quick though that left with the wind that moved your hair and shivered your arms.

“You can let go now.” You murmured, assuring him that you wouldn’t fall now that you had the clutch's support. He did.

“You received suspicious calls, no? Nothing weird that comes to mind?” He kept with his questions that seemed to be turning into a small interrogation.

“Why are you asking me those things?” You finally asked, with a confused shook of your head. “Should I be worried?”

“No. No, you shouldn’t.” He closed his eyes in a sigh, and took your arm around his. Before you could complain, he predicted you. “Don’t complain, I’m doing a courtesy here.”

“I don’t need help, I’m doing well with the-”

“Stubborn girl, aren’t you?” He said, and you could sense a smirk from his voice.

“Well you’re very stubborn yourself, gentleman.” You grumbled, using his help to walk a bit faster now.

You couldn’t see the expression in his face and how amused he seemed to be by watching your movements, and how funny he actually found it that you were slightly mad at him for the time being. You wouldn’t notice the little sign of a laugh on his face, and you’d never suspect there was one - you thought the last thing you’d see him doing in the world was smiling.

After giving you silence as a response, you kept quiet, silently accepting his help through the way. Your eyes scanned the surroundings for a bit like you were looking for a particular tombstone.

“Who do you want to visit?” He risked asking, quietly.

Silence, as you stopped in front of it. There she was. You found it.

The candles were still burning and her face was happily smiling in the picture they chose to put over her gravestone; there were countless flowers, while you held one sole rose in your hand. Doris bought it for you earlier, as you asked.

“My roommate.”

Silence. He was keeping himself a little behind you, his eyes drove from the gravestone to your back. The way the wind started blowing your hair and that white dress fell over your curves perfectly made you look like an angel.

“The one you asked for, what was her name again? Amelie.” He muttered. You gave him a nod.

“Amelie.” You said, as you bend your body as much as you could just so you could reach the top of the beautiful granite that now, layed over her body, and deposit your only flower at the top of all the others already there.

Ghost didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t even sure if he was supposed to say anything, but before that could turn into overthinking for him, you spoke.

“She was my only friend in this place. The only true one.” You explained, even if unsolicited. Somehow, you felt like talking to Ghost was therapy to you; he would almost never answer, and hear it - truly hear it. Maybe you were being delusional to think with this level of detail about him, but so far, you haven’t spoken to someone who made you feel heard quite like him, so it was a win. “I only moved here because her family offered to pay for my expenses. She was in med school too, you know?” You glanced at him, as if he was supposed to know that already.

And he did. He knew every detail that was spoken about you on television. He knew you were in med school; he knew you were originally American, from a very poor family that basically got you living by yourself at a tender age and that you were here for a scholarship you achieved with merit, studying to become a doctor. To become a person, one very much better than him.

You were here to save people.

He had been killing people for quite his lifetime now.

How ironic.

“Do you feel guilty?” He asked.

You thought he was some sort of fortune teller. There it was - the fear. The fear of that man, of his gazing eyes, of his capacity of reading through you like a good book; one he had read before, and he did. He did in his tender age, when he’d suffer at the hands of his father; furthermore, when he got into the army; once again, when he was caught…

Can he take more? I’m sure he can.

Ghost knew guilt like his very own hands. At this point he could feel it no more - he only knew he was doing his job as he could, saving the lives he could and taking the others he needed. Choices have consequences.

“Everyday.” Your voice came out as a blow.

He closed his eyes.

“Do you relate? Looks like you do.” You continued, your eyes locked on his now.

“If I were in your place,” he started, walking a bit closer to you. “I’d make the most of it. I won’t bullshit you with the ‘be grateful for being alive’ rubbish. But want it or not, you’re alive, aren’t you?” He looked over at you, and met your gaze once again.

“Simon’s pep talk… Another surprise for today’s day.” You raised an eyebrow jokingly trying to enlighten the mood even the slightest you could.

“All I’m saying is, foolish girl, that you deserve no less than her to be alive. It’s not a matter of deserving. It’s a matter of luck, you were lucky and she was not.” He turned himself to you, and you felt his eyes burning through your side although you weren’t looking back at him. “There’s no such thing as deserving. If anything, I’d deserve to be bombed twice as much as you.”

“Isn’t that such a cruel thing to say?” You asked with a sole, weak smile on your lips, knowing damn well he was right about every word and every positioning right now. Even though it hurts.

“The world is a cruel place, and although many think, God doesn’t have his favorites… You were lucky. Do not feel guilty about something that didn’t depend on you.” He stated, sternly this time like his advice was a life rule to himself.

For the rest of the way back to the car where Doris waited patiently for the two of you, you kept yourself silent. You wanted to ask more about him, about Simon. About that man you saw such a small flash, a little piece, today; unlike Ghost, Simon was an entirely different person and an entirely different idea to you. Somehow, the two of them seemed to be too attached for you to seek precise duality, and it went as far as to your feelings too: curiosity upon the mystery, fear of what you could learn from the unknown.

“Oh, there you are, finally.” Doris celebrated while opening the car door to you, and rushing fast to help you in. Simon kept himself on the back, watching the whole operation to get you inside the car, amused by how annoyed you got to the excessive help being offered to you.

“I can do things on my own.” You said in gritting teeth.

“I know, dear, but why do things on your own when you can have help” She argued, after tucking you in the car, and turning herself to Ghost. “Thank you for the help, sir.”

“It’s no problem.” He said gently, before nodding his head to you and closing the backdoor for both of you as Doris got in. The car started moving, and you started trailing your way back to the hospital.

In a sigh, you closed your eyes and rested a bit.

━ ⟡ ━

He pushed the mask off, threw it aside. The toned muscles of his back were pumped to the extreme, blood flowing through his veins as he stood, shirtless with a towel around his shoulders, hands by the sink sides, curved only enough so he could reach the mirror and stare at his face. One of his fingers ran through a big scar, almost a crack across his own cheek. Many stab scars ripping his back off, his belly, his stomach, his chest. There were scars everywhere.

He pulled the towel off and poorly dried his hay blonde hair, threw the towel aside in the laundry basket, and fixed the one hanging around his waist; a few drops of the hot shower water still glowing through his body.

He sat on his bed, and took a quick look at the notebook screen. The U.K intelligence system was open, of course he had access to it.

A part of himself was cursing under his name for doing this. The other one knew it was for the greater good; somewhat, deep inside, he knew that wasn’t all. There was more to it. Something almost personal, maybe something growing slowly inside of him.

He didn’t get this sense of need from someone. It's been so long, it’s even weird for him now. No, he didn’t want to awake this monster, give it space, feed it, no.

But he needed to. Because if someone was after you, then he’d hunt it, and he’d put it down.

He put on the password and typed; slowly, the screen started showing off your name, your files, your information, pictures. You.

And he started hunting.

#simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #cod fic

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jellyfishoreo1206 · 10 months

Text

This is for my baba gorl, Garvil <3

Cutest lil goo/rat man to ever exist ^^

Some of the dialogue will follow/directly be from the actual game, but some of it may be edited or not added at all. Game, art, and the BUBO series belongs to @partuulla

Gender-neutral reader

❤️🖤Meeting Gavril🖤❤️

Waking up in the middle of the night is a common occurrence for you, it has been for several years now. Mainly for the undeniable munchies or dying of horrendous thrist or sometimes because you're body just feels like it, which is very annoying whenever you don't feel like doing anything. Especially early in the morning too.

But tonight, it was due to the constant pawing at your stomach by your cat of 1 month, Grimace, Grimmy for short. He's a fairly small cat, no more than 3 months old or as you like to say, no bigger than 4 McDonald sauce packets. He's a orange cat, and oddly calm for his kind, but he has his moments sometimes. You found him in a bush in your front yard one day, head stuck in a Grimace milkshake cup, which is how he got his name. It was a pain trying to get his head out of the hole of the lid without hurting him, his mews were literally breaking your heart already.

And ever since then you've been taking care of him, eventually adopting him due to your extreme loneliness. You're parents were quite happy that you won't be alone when you sent them pictures of Grimace, but it doesn't quite fill the void in your heart, doesn't come close to human contact. You wish to visit your parents badly, but they live out of state and your job won't even give you a damn week off cause of your stuck up boss. You don't have any friends, other than the old lady that lives next door and regularly brings you food, and even inviting you to dinner whenever her grandchildren visits or whenever she makes too much food for her and her husband. She's the only thing that can even come close to filling the void, she treats you like one of her own children, always asking if you're okay and how you need to take care of yourself.

You've tried to, really, and it's helping little by little. Even if you feel like it isn't, which is a lot of times. Too many times. But the lady next door always assures you by saying you're improving, both physically and mentally.

As your eyes adjust to the darkness of your room, you notice you're quite thirsty, throat parched begging for water. With a sigh, you slowly sit up, picking up Grimmy off your stomach from his scuff so he doesn't topple over and off the bed, wouldn't want him to get hurt. He probably woke you up because he was hungry, or maybe he wanted to spend some time with you, it's an either-or with the cat.

Stretching your limbs until a satisfying pop was heard, you slowly trudge to the door (after grabbing your phone), feet dragging against the floor as Grimace follows close behind, letting out a soft meow to let you know.

You were confident in yourself to be able to navigate your house in the dark, turning down the hall that lead to the staircase, but something felt...off. It was colder in the house despite it being summer, and it felt like someone was watching your every move as you climbed down the stairs, slowly this time to try and hear anything else other than your own breathing and rapid heartbeat beating against your ribcage harshly. Goosebumps began to appear on your skin when Grimace starts to hiss, his body language appearing tense as he stares at whatever is at the bottom of the stairs.

Not paying attention to where you're going, your foot stepped in something cold and,..gooey? Quickly recoiling your foot in disgust, a noise leaving your mouth at the unexpected texture, only it doesn't budge. Whatever the substance was, kept your foot stuck. Turning on your flashlight to see what it was your foot was stuck in, you see it's a black puddle of goo, and it was slowly covering it. You followed where it the goo was coming from with your light. And if landed on hooded figure, who was standing in your living room, arm covering their eyes due to the sudden bright light. A whole ass man in your living room.

Fear coursed through your veins, and without thinking (since the figure was literally in an arm's reach) threw a punch to the side of his head out of pure panic and instinct, whilst dropping your phone. Surprisingly, that was able to knock the guy out, as he laid face down on the ground, unmoving.

And that also lead to the gooey substance to retract from your foot.

"Holy shit did I kill him??" Rushing towards the body, you put two fingers to the pulse on his neck to see if it's still there. Sure this may have been some robber or killer coming/breaking into your house, but it's better if you don't get charged with manslaughter and land a lifetime in prison for it. Thankfully he was still alive, but you've might've given him a concussion..

"Ah he'll live..hopefully." Grimace meows in disappointment, sniffing the stranger in curiosity, eventually becoming a loaf on his back. "What do I even do with the guy? I mean, obviously I should call the police, right?" Staring at the man, you decided you wanted to interrogate him. Why? Well because you have nothing better to do that's why, also you're still thirsty.

So here you are, sitting at your table after downing several glasses of water to quench your thirst. And at the other end of the table, was the knocked out man, his hands zipped tied behind the chair so he wouldn't try anything. "This is the stupidest thing I've ever done." Grimace, who finished eating some wet food, bonked his head against your arm, meowing in response, his version of comfort. Sometimes you wish he can talk, so you can have a full blown conversation with him, and not have it be one-sided. Though he isn't supposed to be on the table, you told him that many times before. So grabbing the scruff of his neck, you place him on your lap, where he decided to become a loaf once again.

A groan is what snaps your neck in the direction of the hooded man, his eyes blinking open. He doesn't seem to know what happened, as he is literally waking up with a concussion. Also maybe due to the bright light of the dining room..should you turn it down a little? No, you want answers, even if it kinda means possibly risking your life here.

"So...I'm alive." His voice sends shivers up your spine, goosebumps appearing on your skin. It has a mysterious deep tone to it, something you would hear when listening to a horror audio-book, and one that you absolutely adore. He seems to take in the situation he was in before meeting your eyes. A smirk creeps onto his face, God even his smirk looks-NO NO, FOCUS AT THE TASK AT HAND.

"You actually want to talk to me? My, you really must be lonely~" It's hard to concentrate on your thoughts when his voice is literally making your insides flutter. Keep in mind this is the same guy that broke into your house, get it together. Oh right, he asked a question or something, "What gave that away?" Sarcasm dripping from the question, an attempt to get yourself together and keep a level head.

"Ah, well I'm here to keep you company." He tilts his head, you can't really see anything with his hood on, as it shadowed the top half of his face. Only one strand of long curly black hair, and one of his eye's were visible to your line of sight. Now on the focus of his face, he has some rather sharp features, with a rather pointy goatee now that you noticed it, it's not too long, rather short. That smirk of his seems to widen as he watches you.

He continues on when you haven't said anything in a minute, "If you untie me, I'll be sure to reward your honesty!" What? You raise an eyebrow at the words that leave his mouth. Untie him? This guy literally broke into your house less than an hour ago, why should you untie him.

...But now you're curious, "..What kind of reward?"

"There's only one way to find out." This guy really sucks, why haven't you called the cops yet? Your phone is literally on your lap, and you have enough practice to dial any number without looking. So what's stopping you from doing so?

"I'm surprised you haven't called the cops already. You really are lonely!" He laughs in a mocking way, head thrown back a bit. This guy probably has a screw loose, or maybe it's you with the screw loose because you thought it'd be a good idea to interrogate him instead of calling the police.

Yes, you're just full of bright ideas.

Glancing at your phone, you run through the limited choices you have. You're quite close to just calling the police on this guy, he keeps talking. And he's quite cocky too. But then you wouldn't get the answers to the questions you have. Out of all of the houses on the block, why did he choose yours? It's literally the smallest house compared to all of the bigger houses, and the most bland out of them all. Maybe because you didn't have a security system? Most of your neighbors have them, hell some of them even have guard dogs too.

So, in probably what was the stupidest idea that has ever crossed your mind, you powered off your phone, throwing it on a counter nearby. "Wise decision, my friend!" He praised, though his expression goes blank after he said those words, "Hm..I guess I can't call you my friend yet if I don't know your name!"

Now he's asking for names? Man, this is some weird ass night. Before you could respond, a sharp pain was felt in your thigh, causing you to let out a small pained, "¡Pinche de puta madre!", as you winced at the pain. The stranger seemed a little shocked at your sudden reaction, raising an eyebrow as he continues to watch in curiosity. Looking to see the source of such pain, it turned out to be Grimace stretching his limbs out after being in such a position for so long. You nearly forgot he was in your lap, and how sharp his claws can be at times. You're not able to feel them due to your clothes preventing them from scratching your skin. But now that you're just in some shorts and an oversized shirt, you can quite clearly feel each and every claw of his digging into your skin.

Picking him up by the scruff, you decided you should just hold him in your arms, as if he were a baby. Well, he technically is a baby, he's your baby after all. And he's still learning, little baby don't even know what 2+2 is. You don't really trust putting him on the ground yet, as you don't know whether this man has any ill intentions, also because he's very curious about new people. "It's Y/N." You responded to his previous question, pretending as if nothing ever happened in the first place. The stranger stares at the cat in your arms for a few seconds longer, before meeting your gaze, a grin returning to his face.

"Well Y/N, I'm Gavril!" Gavril, what an, oddly suitable name for him? "I'd love to shake your hand right now..but..Well.." He's referring to the zip tie, a small chuckle leaving his lips. You slightly grimace at his words, "No thank you, don't really wanna touch you after seeing all that nasty goop around you, or..from you?" A shudder rocks through your body at the idea of the stuff coming from inside him, what is it anyway?

"Oh, don't mind all that!" He shrugs to the best of his ability, his head tilting to the side a bit, turning away from you a little, "It's hard to explain what it is, really. But you don't have to worry about it for as long as I am satisfied!" He faces you again, "Promise." Something in your stomach dropped, satisfied? What way does he mean that word? It could mean anything! Well, he probably most likely means food, or money, I mean, it wouldn't hurt just feeding him right? God now he sounds like some kind of pet. But feeding him would mean cutting the zip tie, cause you're not handfeeding him the food, that would be awkward and he'd be a smug little bitch about it too.

Grimace starts to meow in what you could assume is boredom, stretching his paw until it was tapping the bottom of your chin repeatedly. This was a daily occurrence for you and him, you don't know why he does it yet. Gavril seemed to find it quite funny, as he pursed his lips a bit, a small sound resembling a giggle was heard. You decided to ignore it for the time-being.

"Are..are you satisfied right now?" Something in your gut tells you that you probably already know the answer to this, a warning from your instincts. "It would be more satisfying if you were to untie me." Okay you were not expecting that answer. Gavril keeps going, "This position is very uncomfortable.." To be fair, you never meant for it to be comfortable. But the sudden thought of actually cutting the tie crossed your mind. The decision went back and forth for quite a bit before you sighed, standing up and going towards a drawer in your kitchen containing all kinds of junk, and with the only pairs of scissors you have. You had to put Grimace down for a brief moment on the counter to use your hands, and he as an orange cat in his nature, kept trying to leap off the counter to go investigate the new person. Each time he failed due to you quickly grabbing him before he got far.

With the scissors in hand, and Grimace in your hold, you cut the zip tie holding his hands, the snap of the tie seeming to echo in the nearly silent room. Your heart is beating in your ears, a sudden feeling of regret and anxiety rushes over you, as you try your best to walk back to your chair without falling over from how shakey your legs are. Chewing the inside of your cheek, you wait to see what he does. He immediately stretches his arms above his head, finally able to move his stiff arms from such an uncomfortable position for so long. He takes off his hood, finally being able to see his face without the shadows in the way. You were right, he has some sharp features now that the hood is out of the way. He's quite...handsome, and strangely beautiful in his own way, a warmth spreading through your cheeks. He seems to be in his late 30's, maybe his 40's even, his eyes have very prominent eye bags underneath them, and a beautifully carved face.

"Ahh, that's much better!" He gives you smile, crossing his arms as he leans on them a small bit, "Thank you, Y/N. If it's chat you want, it's a chat you'll get!" Finally, answers to the questions that have been floating in your mind. "Yeah, cool. I mainly just want to know.." You paused for a minute, picking out a question to ask from the piles apon piles of them stacking up in your brain.

"Why did you break into my house? It's quite literally the smallest on the block compared to the others." Your thumb brushes against Grimace's fur, an attempt to relax your nerves as you look anywhere else other than his intense gaze. "Oh, a friend led me here. We're both pretty hungry, so he might have smelled something good!" Fuck, is there more of him going around the block?? "He ran off a while ago, so I don't know where he is..hope he's alright." So there's a possibility that his friend is also breaking into the other houses.

"So there's more of you going around?"

"He and I are nothing alike. For one, he's a rat." A rat. He's friends with a rat. You have a feeling he hasn't had human interaction in quite some time. Though you can't really judge, you talk to your cat everyday as if he were a normal person. Then an image flashed in your mind, when Gavril was in your living room before you knocked him out, he had what seemed to be a tail made of the same substance as the goo. A tail, just like a rat's. "Is that why you have a tail? You part rat or something?" He seemed to perk up at the first question, he seemed confused. "What are you talking about?" He takes a few moments longer before he finally realized what you meant.

He blushes a small bit, averting his eyes to the side, fiddling with the sleeves of his coat. "Oh you mean my.." He pauses, before making eye contact with you again. "That's not a tail, it's more like a third arm!" He gives a small smile as he continues, "Not that there's anything wrong with having tails or anything!" Something in the back of your mind is telling you he won't bring any harm as of now, he doesn't seem dangerous right now. Though it would be pretty stupid to let your guard down completely. You don't know why you're acting this friendly to a home invader. Maybe due to the fact you're basically lonely 24/7 and only have three people to talk too, or there was something in that goo of his that was probably affecting your brain. Either way, it was nice having some human interaction. A small chuckle fills the room, as you return the smile, though it was quite small. "It...oddly suits you in a good way." The comment seemed to fluster him a small bit, though he gives you a grin, "Thank you, it does make stealing food easier."

Contemplating your next decision, you sighed, hoping that this wouldn't backfire on you in any way. "Look, you don't have to steal anything," You say as you stand up, heading towards the kitchen, letting Grimace down on the ground so he could walk around. You trust Gavril enough to not harm him. Gavril seemed a little shocked at the sudden kindness shown to him, though it seems to fade away and he smiles. "Maybe some for your friend too, wherever he may be." Opening the fridge, you look at what you could give the man to eat. Maybe something that has a good amount of nutrients mixed in it. He does look a little bit on the skinny side, though you can't really tell with his coat on. "You are too kind, Y/N!" He says from the table, leaning his head on the palm of his hand, peering at the doorway leading into the kitchen.

He felt something furry brushing against his legs, as he peers underneath the table in curiosity. The cat, he doesn't know the name of yet, laying down on his back as he plays with the fabric of his coat, letting out a mew every so often. Gavril smiles a bit, reaching a hand down to gently pet the top of it's head.

Coming out of the kitchen, you give him a sandwich with some string cheese to go with it, setting down the plate in front of him. He immediately lunges for the cheese first, it being gone as soon as it came. Maybe he's more rat than human, actually now that brings up another question, is he even human? The question is thrown out of mind when you realized Gavril was talking to you. "Sorry, can you repeat that?" Said man was picking up the sandwich, opening his mouth. You didn't really expect a long black appendage come out of his mouth, wrapping itself around the sandwich, covering the whole thing in it's gooey substance. Before you know it, there were only crumbs left, the only existing thing that was left of the sandwich. His tongue withdraws itself back into his mouth. That definitely checks out.

"Oh God."

"Sorry?"

"Um, what the fuck was that."

"Oh, it is just so hard to chew certain things. It's very handy at times." Gavril waves his hand a bit in a somewhat dismissive manner, wiping off the excess crumbs that got into his goatee. "So you, use the slime to eat things?" What a strange thing to do, can he even taste things like that? The sandwich seemed to have dissolved when the goo covered it. He only smiled back at you, finding amusement in your confusion. That seemed to have answered your question. You remember how you were stepping in that not to long ago, you could've ended up just like that sandwich. A sudden realization came over you that you could've died.

"How does it, work exactly? Is it acidic? Can you control what it can melt or not? Can you taste anything when you eat food like that?"

"I.. don't think it melts things exactly! But it somewhat works like that. I can still taste things yes, it doesn't effect the taste in anyway." Gavril answered, scratching the bottom of his chin. He doesn't go into much detail, maybe he doesn't know much of how it works either. "I am no scientist in any way, it is...difficult to explain how it works."

"But I have a cousin who is one! He would for sure know, he is very smart." He has family? Well obviously he would have family. Though why hasn't he gone to them for help? Maybe it's a touchy subject for him. "I'm assuming your family doesn't, know about this?" You decided to test the waters. "Family..is a strong word." He averted his eyes, his shoulders tensing as he goes to pet Grimace, who was once again, on the table without a single care in the world. Family is a touchy subject then. You decided to leave it alone, it's none of your business anyway.

"So that slime, can you control it in any way?" Changing the subject seemed to be a good idea in this situation, and seeming to work as his shoulders went back to a relax position when you moved on from the subject. "Yes! It has been very useful to me, though it's hard to say if it is a tool or a friend at times.." Christ, his perception of friendship was so, distorted. The thought of becoming friends with him seemed to enter your mind, it doesn't sound too bad. Throughout the time you two have been talking, it seemed that you both had some things in common, and you actually liked his company. "By the sounds of it, you just might be the lonely one here." A light jab at him, as you give him a joking smile. He sighed, though he returned the smile, "..Maybe I am." His smile flattered a little, fiddling with the sleeves of his coat.

"As much as I love my rat friends, it does feel nicer to talk to someone who hasn't run away yet! Like you.." Okay that was a little sad. You felt pity for him, you don't know how long has he gone without human interaction, but you're willing to be the one person to change that, make his life a little less lonely. "I feel as if I can call you my friend now!"

"Because I offered cheese?" You say in a joking manner. "Yes, that too." He laughs a small bit, before continuing. "Maybe it was fate that led me here to you?" Okay now the atmosphere just got a little weird, what is happening?? This is the same guy that you tied to a chair not too long ago, but..his words do show some truth to them. "Maybe you're right, it has been quite nice talking to you, despite you breaking into my house." You both share a chuckle at the coincidence such a situation turned out to be. You continue to talk, "Despite how scary it was in the beginning, we're both pretty lonely I guess.." Grimace starts walking towards you, gently rubbing his face against your cheek as he let's out a purr. It brings a smile to your face.

"We don't have to be lonely anymore, Y/N.." Gavril said in a soft voice, a new emotion being seen in those dark eyes of his. You can't tell what he's feeling now, but you have a good idea you might know in a bit. "And I could eat cheese everyday." He continues in a somewhat joking/serious manner, a grin making itself known. Sounds like he just wants you for the free cheese. "Are you saying you want to stay here? Gavril I'm sorry to break it to you, but I don't want a roommate.." It would be an absolute pain trying to pay for another person considering how much your job pays, especially for someone who is basically a felon. Imagine the bail you would have to pay for if he ever got caught.

He seemed to blush as he said the next words, eyes averting and lifting his hand to cover the bottom half of his face, "What about, more than roommates? As in..not roommates." His voice came out slightly muffled, but you still heard it loud and clear. Is..is he asking you what you think he's asking for? He seemed to become a little shy as he gets more red in the face, his hand still over his mouth. "You..you said you liked my tail...So I thought.." Okay wow, he is asking what you think he's asking for. You don't know how to feel about this, your mind went blank, and you're quite literally speechless. You've never been in any kind of romantic relationship before, despite several attempts to have one, but they never worked out for you in the end. But, there's that little voice in the back of your mind, that little voice of encouragement. Mulling over the idea, you finally spoke up. "Just, don't break into my house anymore, alright?" You're not sure how this will turn out, but you hope it turns out well for you both.

Gavril seems to smile at your response, seeming to be giddy. "Ah, I don't think I would be able to anyway!" That seemed to confuse you, before he continues, "I have so much traveling to do. But, you are fine with long distance, right?" He pulls out a slip of paper and a pen out of his pocket, scribbling something down before he slides it over to you.

"Here's my number. You should call or text me or send pictures anytime you like! I'm always available, I promise!" He starts to get up from the chair, adjusting his coat as he throws the hood back over his head. He..was as lonely as a man could get. But, that didn't seem to bother you, though you wish you got to know more about him during the time he was in your house. You'll get your chance in the morning. "I am so happy, Y/N." He turns to look at you, beaming in pure joy. "I know I have to go soon, but I am so glad to have met you! Even if it meant tying me to a chair!"

He walks over to the front door, the atmosphere feeling a lot lighter than how it originally was in the beginning. Before he left, he turns to one last time, waving as he says, "So long, darling~" He walks into the night, his figure slowly disappearing the further he walked on as he blends in with the shadows around him. And just like that, the house was quiet, as if nothing ever happened in the first place. You were left sitting at the table, staring at the slip of paper Gavril gave to you, reading each number and burning it into your memory. You're not sure what life may be of now, or what it will throw at you, but you know for sure it's going to be a big change.

Standing from the table, you made sure that everything was locked (and putting a chair underneath the door knob to ensure nobody else breaks in) before heading upstairs, Grimace following behind. All the exhaustion that was in you seemed to have disappeared when you got back to bed. It seemed that the events that took place earlier still have you shaken up, despite it turning out better in the end. With a sigh, you turn onto your side, gently caressing the sheets with your fingers. Sleep didn't come to you for quite some time, until the early hours of the morning. You know your boss is going to be a stuck up bitch about it, even if you told him that someone broke in last night. He wouldn't care.

But that doesn't matter to you now, a specific man staying in your thoughts as you drift off.

#gavril #bubo series #gavril game #x reader #horror games #hes so bbg fr #cute little guy #rat man #fanfic

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heatedwither · 10 months

Text

in the white.

deadite! ellie x fem reader.

summary- when you finally come back to the apartment from your trip to the grocery store, ellie notices something different about your scent.

word count- 4.7k.

warnings- smut, mentions of blood and violence, cursing.

note- this has been in my drafts forever. i’ve decided to release this before ‘the decay of your body’ because i am very excited to share this, and to be honest, i am proud of this one.

being held captive by a walking corpse was not something you were looking forward to. from the moment that trained nose took in the faintest whiff of your scent, she knew. that was the one. you were gonna be the one human she spared and kept hidden from the outside world, only staying by her side because she cannot understand why you would even need to be away from her when your job is to just sit there and look pretty for her. and as much as she wants to tackle you down and make you bleed that gorgeous shade of red, she can’t risk passing a demon onto you and watching it take over her precious girl’s body, that’s her job. you aren’t allowed to leave the apartment, roaming the building is a big no because ellie would not hesitate to drag those demons back down to hell, laughing as she pulverized them to nothing. rarely are you ever allowed to go outside, unless you need one of those monthly trips to the grocery store that ellie hates so badly since it feels like forever that you are gone, and those revolting scents that are plastered onto your body nearly makes her fall into a fit of rage. those disgusting humans had the audacity to get too close to what belongs to her.

ellie is absolutely and utterly obsessed with all things you. it was because of her obsession that you are alive and breathing instead of rotting like all the other poor souls in the building. forget about having time to yourself, alone time is out of the question. ellie needs to be right in your face at all times. you're trying to cook something? she's right there looming over you. shower time? you better not lock the door because she will bang and bang until the door finally caves in.

it’s a good thing she’s limited to the apartment, if she were able to roam the city there would be nothing but chaos, ellie would make sure to slaughter anyone she comes into contact with. that person is too close? dead. he smells weird? dead. that innocent person who hasn’t even acknowledged your existence? dead.

she’ll go on and on and rant about how she’ll hunt them down and gut them with her own hands, something you have to listen to while she tries to remove that awful smell from your body and replace it with hers, which results in you being pinned down and smothered by a very possessive demon. all the while she’s letting out a low, guttural noise as she attaches to your body, making sure you can’t slip out of her grasp. it didn't take much for ellie to turn absolutely feral, she's like that by nature, but you bring out another side of her that she has not experienced, something that demon was not aware of.

you struggle, but there’s no way you can wiggle out of her tight hold. one hand holds your arms above your head while the other is wrapped around your neck, threatening to squeeze just a little harder if you continue thrashing around and making this difficult for her. any other time she may enjoy watching you try so helplessly to shake her off, but right now she needs to rub her scent on you. there is no way she is going to let you stink up her apartment with someone else’s filthy stench, especially if it’s stuck to you, her human. ellie didn't care what the situation was or where you were, if she noticed a difference in your scent she was gonna mount you and keep you underneath her, lasting for however long she wanted.

all you could see was her tangled red hair and the perfect ink that was still visible on her graying skin. you were panting, breathing hard and ellie twitched at the smallest change in your scent- fear and excitement. perhaps that was what drew her to you in the first place, how delicious your fear was, the intoxicating scent of your blood growing hotter whenever you are in her presence. your heartbeat thumping so hard in your chest that she can hear a mile away. it’s unlike the other humans, she can hunt them down and hack and slash away at their bodies for game but you, she cannot bring herself to actually harm you. as much as she would like to see you looking pretty in a pool of blood, she needs you alive for her.

you're her sweet girl, her human that was made for her. you can be troublesome at times, but ellie will always put you back in your place and remind you who's the bigger, more lethal person between the two of you. you try not to give her any problems just so you can stay alive another day, but you are only human and no matter how many times you are exposed to ellie's behavior, a part of you will always be terrified of her and what she can do to you whenever she's had enough.

her face is now buried in your neck, her long tongue lapping away right against that spot where she has perfectly mapped out one of your major arteries. that specific area, pumping and pulsing with blood. it’s one of her favorite spots to just nudge her nose, taking in your scent as she drags her tongue against your skin, leaving behind that black liquid that occasionally seeps from her mouth whenever she locks eyes with you. her nails dig into your shoulders, deep, but not enough to actually break skin.

you’d be lying if you said you didn’t secretly enjoy how vulnerable and weak ellie made you feel. here she was, pinning you down and drooling all over you, rubbing that pungent odor all over your body. at first you thought you’d never get used to having this demon smother you in that foul stench and practically glue herself to you most of the time, but after many tiring occasions you grew used to it, and to be honest, you liked it.

you wince and let out one of those whimpers she loves so much. her body twitches and her hand slowly trails down your chest, her fingers grazing the material of your shirt before frantically ripping it off of you. there goes another one of your shirts ruined, but ellie did not care one bit, simply due to the fact that it was in the way, and she never understood why you felt the need to wear pieces of cloth over your body especially since you looked so perfect undressed. the cold air hit your chest, making you shiver, but that was enough for ellie to grab your hips and lift them up slightly so she could press them against hers. she slowly started grinding against you, dragging her tongue against your skin, tracing your veins and arteries underneath your flesh. her hands undid your bra, which she was nice enough to not rip off this time. her face immediately went to your breasts, which she enjoyed licking and nipping at. she’s always adored your body, but she loved littering your skin in bruises.

you could feel the vibrations in her throat as her mouth attached to your soft flesh, her tongue was burning up- just like the rest of her body that was producing so much friction against you. ellie had mounted herself on your thigh, her bony fingers pressing into your hips as she rocked against you.

ellie finally removed her face from your chest, locking eyes with you and drooling at the sight of her sweet girl all flustered and burning up just for her. that look that drove her crazy, your eyes peering up at her and your lips parted, letting out small pants and huffs.

“please… ellie..”

you begged, but you had no idea what you were actually begging for. all you knew was that you wanted ellie to touch every part of you, smother you in her eye watering scent once again and somehow, press herself harder against you. your pleads were music to her ears, often times she would tease you endlessly just to hear you beg and whine so pathetically. this woman took pleasure in watching you suffer, she loved how you reacted to every little thing she did, she could barely lay a finger on you and you would absolutely lose your mind. ellie took pride in this, her being the only one who could have such an effect on you. she knew you would always submit to her, you were her good girl after all. she leaned her face closer to yours, her slender fingers creeping up to your jaw and holding it in place so you had no choice but to meet her piercing gaze.

“please, what?”

ellie's voice turned deep, demonic, much different than that sweet motherly voice she usually used around you. that feral grin turned into a straight face and you knew ellie was completely serious, she wasn't very pleased with you referring to her as that name. she had allowed you to call her ellie sometimes, but the demon always reminded you that ellie was somewhere burning away in hell. you could feel her claws poking into your flesh, ellie's patience was non existent, you knew if she asked you something you better reply quick and not make her wait. if she was upset, you better hope that you can somehow managed to calm her down.

your heart started racing, you knew you messed up, this was the part where ellie finally tosses you aside and puts an end to you, right when you were enjoying her feral and carnal nature towards you. truth be told, ellie had no plans of getting rid of you, she enjoyed implementing fear inside you. she’ll sink her claws in your flesh just a little more if that means seeing you shake underneath her.

“sorry… mommy”

you whined, face turning red in embarrassment as the words bounced off your tongue. ellie’s lips soon curled into that wide grin she usually has plastered on her face, her pupils dilating and that pungent black sludge dripping from her mouth that you weren’t such a big fan of, but since it was from ellie you thought of it as a form of affection.

“good girl. now… what do you want from me, hm?”

ellie’s hips started moving slowly again, just barely pressing against your thigh. her grip on your jaw softened and her fingers caressed the side of your face. as soft as ellie tried being with you, it never lasted for long, it was something you still had to teach her, and ellie wasn’t the greatest at understanding how humans worked. you once tried teaching her what a simple hug was, but ellie stared at you like you were insane and figured you wanted something else. you never realized it, but you taught ellie a lot. as clueless as she can be about humans she’s noticed everything you do- your habits, the way you do everything. ellie has studied you carefully and there was nothing she hadn’t already seen you do. she doesn’t understand why you do things, but she knows you do them.

a wave of embarrassment hit you again. you knew what you wanted, but actually saying it? you wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. you knew ellie found amusement in your embarrassment, she would brutally tease you and degrade you for being such a filthy girl.

you couldn’t handle it anymore. ellie made you feel so dirty, but you enjoyed it because it was her making you feel so dirty. right now all you could think of was ellie’s hands roaming every part of your body, how every touch made your skin grow hot and much to your embarrassment, how much you wanted to grind onto her perfect thighs.

your scent changed, ellie immediately picked up on it. her head twitched and you could hear a clicking sound erupting from her throat, she could smell your arousal. you could hear her sniffing around and soon she lowered herself, dragging her nose from your breast to your stomach slowly. those faint touches were enough to make you soak through your panties, her face was buried against the waist line of your skirt, just sniffing, trying to take in as much of your arousal as she could.

ellie didn’t seem to be interested in your response anymore, that was a first- but now she’s currently occupied with something else. she’s focused on that sweet scent coming from between your legs. a low growl vibrated from her throat and before you could even look at her again she was already peering up at you with her shit eating grin. you locked eyes with her and you could feel the blood rush to your cheeks.

so many delectable scents coming from her sweet girl. it was difficult for ellie to actually hold back, you could tell from those guttural noises and the way her nails dug into the flesh on your hips.

“answer me you filthy slut”

of course she didn’t forget.

you whimpered at the raspy demonic voice, your eyes closing and threatening to release a tear. ellie’s voice never failed to make you jump. the woman in general was terrifying, and you’ve accepted the fact that she always will be like that. your thighs shut together and a tingly feeling shot through your body, another proof of ellie’s effect on you. there was something about those bloody fingers, the ones that tried their best to caress you but always ends up burrowing into your skin. her face that was always so close to yours, covered in blood and saliva that you would occasionally wipe off at times and ellie would just stare at you, confused as to why you did that. and her voice, the way she could change from a calming motherly one to something so terrifying and evil. this woman gave you butterflies in every way. it took a while getting accustomed to her demon antics, but you are probably just as obsessed with her as she is with you.

“t-touch me? please, mommy?”

you begged nicely, just as ellie taught you to do. if you were a good girl and begged for her she may or may not stop teasing you so much, but ellie always did what she wanted and that also meant ignoring your requests if she felt like doing so. she was selfish in a way, but her demon brain can’t understand actually giving in for a human and doing as they say. that doesn’t mean she doesn’t listen to you, ellie believes you are the only exception but even the exception doesn’t always get what she wants.

ellie’s head lifted just slightly so she could get a good look at you, her weak little human who’s looking so cute and vulnerable. she was pleased with how well you could beg, though ellie was always one to make you beg until you got sick and tired of it. you think batting your lashes and being cute could make her cave in? she wasn’t going to let you get what you want so easily. her fingers danced around the material of your skirt, lifting it up a little. you knew she was teasing, there wasn’t a time ellie had ever let you get what you wanted so easily.

“ohhh you greedy girl”

ellie laughed at how pitiful you looked. god, you couldn’t even look at her anymore. one more glance and you were sure that evil grin would send you into a fit of frustration and a tear may or may not run down your cheek. you could feel her graze your thighs, tracing over the marks she littered on you last time.

“such a filthy little slut. all you can do is beg for me to ruin you, isn’t that right?”

she wasn’t wrong, thoughts of ellie occupied many parts of your brain, often pushing aside other thoughts to make more room for all things ellie, and right now all you can think about is ellie using you to her liking. her words made you squirm underneath her, and you nodded your head. at this point you didn’t really care how pathetic and needy you looked, you wanted ellie and you didn’t care how much you had to please her. truthfully, you wanted to please her. you wanted ellie to be proud of you and praise you. the thought of her ever losing interest in you was terrifying, so you felt the need to always meet her expectations, even if she did have high standards.

“mhm.. yes… yes mommy”

your words came out between breaths. ellie's hand was now higher up your thigh and her finger tugged at your panties before once again, ripping them off of you along with your skirt. there was something about how aggressive ellie was that never failed to get you aroused. she's a demon, but she's your demon, who, despite being hostile to any living thing around her, has a soft spot for you and only you. even if she does threaten you or lose her temper sometimes, annoy you to the point of wanting to make an escape from the apartment, you know it wouldn't be the same without her.

ellie did not waste any time grabbing onto your thighs and forcing them apart, exposing your dripping cunt to her. it felt like she was taking forever to finally touch you, when you peered up at her you could see her darkened saliva leak from her gritted teeth. she noticed your gaze and she stared at you, giving you a little smirk before lowering her head and resting her forehead against your stomach. the look she gave you forced another stream of arousal to leak out of you and all you wanted was to shove her face between your legs and keep her there, but you knew ellie took her time with you- unless she was having one of those moments where she desperately needed to mate with you.

it was typical ellie behavior to press her nose into your skin and sniff you, you were used to that, but when her hot breath is so dangerously close to your cunt, and you can feel her throat vibrate against your clit, you almost lose it there. her hands are on your waist, keeping you still as she drags her mouth down your abdomen. it wasn't like ellie to actually kiss your body, but when she did her lips felt like they were burning into your skin, sinking right to your core. you watched as her face got closer and closer between your legs and you couldn't help but clench around nothing. ellie took a whiff of your arousal once more, a deep growl erupting from her throat just before she made eye contact with you.

"you smell delicious"

you didn't have time to react or even register what ellie had said to you, her face was already buried between your legs and lapping at your cunt. a sob spilled from your mouth and you could feel ellie grin against you, as much as you squirmed it did nothing to shake the woman off. she was glued to you, absolutely obsessed with your taste. ellie was very messy and sloppy whenever she ate you out, she was very adamant about reducing you to a filthy, wailing mess. her tongue danced around your clit before flattening her tongue and dipping between your folds, collecting any wetness that leaked out of you. tears fell from your eyes, it was all too much, ellie's tongue was everywhere at once, flicking against your clit, buried inside you and hungrily lapping at every part of you.

ellie's hand was on your abdomen, her thumb slowly rubbing against your skin as she continued her assault on your cunt. you could hear and feel her groan against your clit, the vibrations sent shivers down your spine and your back to arched, which failed due to ellie immediately pinning your hips down again. she enjoyed how much you squirmed and tried to wiggle away, being able to force you back down and overpower you. you whined, choking out a sob over how perfect ellie's mouth felt on your cunt. your head was spinning and growing foggy, not a thought in your brain except how disgusting you are for giving your body to this vile creature. the embarrassment hit you again, how exposed and needy you are for ellie, sobbing with that fucked out expression. all you can do is moan and say her name over and over, babbling whatever incoherent words are coming out of your mouth. you look down at she's staring right into your soul, not once blinking as she makes a bigger mess of you, drooling and spitting over your cunt.

"look at you, just a dumb little slut. you like my tongue, don't you?"

you nodded frantically, tears streaming down your cheeks and ellie chuckled at your pathetic expression. your legs were wobbly, but your hips attempted any movement they could- desperately grinding more against ellie's mouth, which she seemed to enjoy by the sound of her guttural noises and groans. she loved your taste, perhaps it was more addicting than your scent she's so obsessed with. this woman could eat you out for hours, non stop. her stamina is infinite, if it means having some fun with her precious darling, ellie would fuck you forever.

ellie didn't have a particular rhythm, she just devoured you as much as she possibly could. you could hear the absolute filth of her slurping and lapping away, sucking and then mixing her saliva with your arousal. she was like a starved animal, rough and filled with carnal desire. it didn't bother her how much you thrashed around and jerked your body, her darling couldn't slip away from her, your squirming only made her more hungry for you. your screams and sobs always earned an evil laugh from her, and her fingers would press into your flesh, bruising and marking up your body. you slowly reached your shaking hand down, stretching out your index finger to hook it with ellie's bony one. as weak as your body was, every part of you turning to mush, you couldn't let go of ellie's finger, you held onto her, the only part you could.

“oh, fuck.. mommy.. hnng”

you eyes closed shut and you bit down onto your lip, your vision was going blurry, you couldn’t meet the woman’s eyes even if you tried, and you were sure she was still staring at you. ellie wasn’t going to take her malign pupils off her pretty girl, especially when she looks so perfect at her mercy. she carefully examined every tear that fell down your cheek, every breath and those adorable expressions you make whenever she teases you in such a way that makes your head spin. you were growing closer to the point of passing out, but ellie’s sinful mouth was successful at bringing you back to reality, the filthy, shameful reality of your want and need for this demon you’ve grown so fond of. it’s wrong, disgusting, but you’re too far gone and you simply don’t care. you’ve fallen for this wicked woman, you let her hands corrupt your mortal body and you couldn’t be happier to be bound to your captor.

something was pooling in your stomach and your grip on ellie’s finger tightened slightly, she took notice of that and twirled her digit around yours, playing with your much smaller hand. curses were mumbled underneath your breath, you were dangerously close to cumming, but you knew that ellie would not have you climaxing without her permission. you were afraid that one more swipe of her tongue would send you into that state of bliss you were needing so badly.

“i’m so close.. mommy.. can i please cum?”

you whined, weakly grabbing her wrist and bucking your hips as much as you could. if ellie rejected your request you would have just cried and wailed, bearing her torture that shouldn’t feel as good as it does. your hips stuttered, every part of you ached, and that was exactly what ellie wanted. she wasn’t done until you were broken, she’d wreck you until you were nothing, but her wicked hands and sweet curses were enough to soothe you, even if she isn't the most gentle afterwards as well. you tried to hold out as long as you could, though ellie's tongue worked faster against your swollen clit.

“that’s it, be a good girl and cum for me”

your thighs were trembling, slowly closing in on ellie's head, the heat between your legs kept getting hotter, ellie's voice did something to you. it wasn't her demonic voice that sent chills down your spine, she sounded genuine, helping you through your high. right there you could believe ellie had even the slightest bit of humanity in her rotten body, and it was all for you, her precious darling.

with a scream your hips bucked and your hand tugged at ellie's, the hot pool in your stomach breaking apart and soon you came undone. there was drool leaking from your mouth, your chest rising and falling with every deep breath, as tired and oversensitive as you were, you locked your hand with ellie's, and for once her grip softened, almost caressing your hand gently. your lower body went numb, yet you could feel ellie place a small peck to your clit before leaving a couple on your thighs. you shuddered at every little kiss she placed on your thighs, there was so much tension in your body and all you could do was lay there, vision blurry and heart nearly beating out of your chest. you were panting, whimpering her name between each breath and ellie lifted her head from between your thighs and leaned closer to you, taking the side of your flushed cheek in her hand. her claws weren't poking into your skin anymore, she was holding you like some kind of fragile piece of glass, in such a way that was foreign to both you and her. with her touch you could finally calm down, you leaned into her touch and for once you could somehow feel at ease with your demon.

she's a menace, a parasite that has drained you of your innocence and freedom, but you've accepted that, you've accepted ellie and you believe there is nothing better than that wicked smile she always has plastered on her lips. ellie's face was buried in your hair, continuing her usual ellie things that include gluing herself to you and trying to take in as much of your scent as she possibly could. the little strength you had allowed you to wrap your arms around her body, fingers tracing the bones of her back and shoving your face in the crook of her neck. she whispered praises into your ear, licking and nipping at your skin. you're so used to her doing that, but it feels like a reward for being such a good girl for her. ellie always made you feel safe, but being so close to her like this made you feel special, like you were truly her precious little darling. it was a rare feeling, you had no worry in the world right now. all that mattered was the demon who was currently smothering you with her body so much that if you take another second of it you might suffocate, but as long as you were with ellie you didn't care about anything else. you're content with everything, content with ellie. you can tolerate how absolutely unhinged and evil she is, you prefer her that way, a vile thing who was birthed into some dark cavern of hell and summoned by an ancient relic that you shouldn't be so grateful for, but if it weren't for the human curiosity then you wouldn't have this demon you're so attached to.

and you've completely fallen for this demon.

#evil dead rise #ellie bixler #evil dead rise x reader #ellie bixler x reader #evil dead

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fanaticalthings · 2 years

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You’re headcanon of Battinson crying when it comes to his kids makes me wonder what his reaction would be to Jason’s death. Like even in the comics it’s said that Jason’s death shattered and nearly killed him emotionally as well as physically as Bruce literally threw himself into his work and fighting crimes

But you’re headcanon makes me imagine that it would go a little further and just not go out as Batman and instead wonder the Manor maybe spend a lot of time in Jason’s room. I can see Bruce also clinging to Dick and becoming protective of him.

Yess, in canon comics after Jason died, Bruce withdrew himself from everybody, including Dick. He threw himself fully into crime fighting to the point where he disregarded his own safety and health.

And on top of all that, Dick also mentioned how Bruce basically got rid of any evidence that Jason even existed (I'm assuming photos, Jason's clothes, his books, etc) from his (Bruce's) bedroom. So comic Bruce clearly was so pained by Jason's death that he couldn't bear to even look at anything that reminded him of Jason. I have no idea what Bruce did to Jason's own bedroom but I'm assuming he never steps foot in it again.

Now as for Battinson, I think his reaction and grieving would be a bit different. Like anon said, I def think Battinson would cling more protectively to Dick and would spend long periods in Jason's room just mourning the loss of his son.

I also feel like he would sleep in Jason's bed and cry himself to sleep, imagining that he still has his son in his arms with him like all those times Jason sought him out after a nightmare or when he just wanted to cuddle with Bruce.

Comic!Bruce barely cried when Jason died (although it was still very obvious he was distraught over it), but I think Battinson would be the opposite and would cry at every little reminder of Jason, and unlike Comic!Bruce, would make sure to keep all of Jason's belongings where he left them (especially if they were left in Bruce's room)

In the comics, Bruce never told Dick about Jason's death, causing Dick to miss the funeral and making their relationship even more tense than before, however, I think battinson!Bruce would want Dick even more present in his life now that Jason has left a gapping hole.

This man just went through the most traumatizing and heartbreaking thing a parent can experience so of course he'd want to keep his remaining child with him at all times. I also feel like this would make Dick and him closer than ever (even if Bruce's helicopter parenting can be a bit much), since Battinson!Bruce would be more emotionally vulnerable and open, which would allow them to grieve together and maybe in a more healthy way.

Battinson!Bruce would dedicate so many charities and memorials to Jason, and would visit his grave all the time so he could read to him. In general, I still believe this Bruce would still close himself off, but only to people who aren't in his immediate circle/family.

The immediate aftermath of Jason's death would be absolutely devastating for him. If Death in the Family were to happen in The Batman universe, I need Battinson to let out the most heartwrenching cry when he comes across Jason's body, like i need him to be full body sobbing in the explosive aftermath of Joker's deeds. I need to see him viscerally torn apart as he clutches Jason's body tightly to his chest like how a parent would gently cradle their child to sleep. I just need it to be absolutely obvious that this man has just gone through something maybe worse than his own parents' deaths, and I want it to be known that Jason dying meant a part of Bruce died too.

It would hurt so much more considering Battinson!Bruce started off very closed off, and the only reason he came close to functioning like a healthy human was because his first sons broke down his walls and filled his life with a purpose other than serving vengeance. Dick and Jason would probably bring sm love back into his life, so imagine how badly he reacts when suddenly losing a large part of that? Bruce basically raised Jason, taught him almost everything he knew, and in turn Jason (and Dick ofc) taught Bruce how to love, and be a father, so it must've been so painful knowing he'll never get to see his baby grow.

I still think Battinson would pull a comic!Bruce and throw himself aggressively into crimefighting and detective work, except when he comes home he'll make sure to spend time with Dick, and maybe sit around in Jason's room, reminiscing all their memories together.

As for Jason's return as Red Hood? Lmao that man wouldn't dare lay a finger on his son, he would immediately tackle Jason into a loving embrace and cry his heart out after finding out his baby is alive

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scraftyisthebest · 16 days

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You know, some time ago I talked about the relationships between the Explorers, and how they're pretty clearly a disconnected group of people with a lot of rifts and divides between them. In the little relationship chart I showed I specifically highlighted Spinel as distinctly isolated from everyone else who has some interpersonal connections with each other. But thinking about it more, while that still holds true, I wonder if Spinel's isolation from everyone else to the group may have more to it than I initially thought.

Looking at it, he seems to really more come off as something of a social recluse who does not interact with people well, especially face-to-face. He seems to have traits that mirror Dot: namely he stands out as someone who is tech-savvy and Internet-savvy as well, using technology and the Internet to his advantage. He's also seemingly a reclusive shut-in who stays holed up in a room with a computer and commands his Pokemon from afar so he never has to interact with people face-to-face. Which is to say, he's evidently not good at interacting with people, and not only that, he would actively prefer not to interact with others if he can manage to do so. The closest admin to him is Chalce, but even then there's some distance between them.

But on the other hand, while he doesn't really care for his fellow Explorers admins and they don't really like him either, particularly Amethio, Coral, and Sidian who also mutually dislike him in turn, he's very close with his Pokemon. Most notably his main partner is an Umbreon, who is a friendship evolution, ie evolves from Eevee by sharing a close bond with its Trainer. Spinel very clearly loves and cares about his Umbreon, and Umbreon in turn is also very loyal to him. His Umbreon also has a defensively oriented moveset with Reflect, and moves like Foul Play and Snarl to turn the opponent's power against them while hitting them. This makes Umbreon come off as a protector of Spinel, who is loyal to him and will always protect him and be by his side no matter what. If there's anyone he considers his friend, it's his Umbreon, and from the way they interact Spinel does in fact cherish it and consider it his very dear friend. He's also relatively kind to his other Pokemon like Magneton and Beheeyem, as even when they both failed him, he didn't treat them badly. I think he's someone who is capable of forming bonds with Pokemon and loving them, and that his deal is that he does not like people, but trusts Pokemon instead, and for some reason is more capable of forming close relationships with Pokemon.

When Friede and Spinel met in person for the first time, Friede calls Spinel "shy". Friede seems to notice that Spinel very distinctly comes off as a loner, to the point where he's surprised Spinel would even work with his other admins in any capacity (and Spinel admits he's just using them to keep his hands clean, admitting he is a loner).

Spinel is also very notably a complete and utter yes-man to Gibeon, completely following any order Gibeon gives, which the other four don't. There's something going on there, like he might be trying to win over approval from Gibeon because he wants his talents and skills to be recognized by someone and sees Gibeon as that person. That might also explain his hostility towards Amethio and the other admins, because he sees them as a threat to that.

Spinel is certainly interesting in this light. The other admins all have their own struggles and insecurities that contribute to the group's overall disconnect, but they keep close with certain others despite disliking the rest. Amethio and Coral both seem to want to belong somewhere, and they do have their own close connections with Amethio having two subordinates in Zirc and Onia who care about him and he cares about as well, and having a close relationship with Hamber, while Coral and Sidian are close, and they're both close with Chalce. But Spinel is a loner who doesn't get along with humans but does however get along with his Pokemon. He has no close relationships with his fellow Explorers members, but is kind to his Pokemon, with his closest partner being his Umbreon who he cares about dearly and Umbreon cares about him as well.

I do wonder what led Spinel to join this group and what he will do. He has his own motives and will likely contribute to the disconnect of the Explorers that may prove Gibeon's downfall. Amethio, Coral, and Sidian seem like they'll be good ones who might help the RVT in some way or another, but Spinel may betray Gibeon for his own self interests. But looking at all this, his character is actually quite interesting and unique.

#pokemon #anipoke #pokemon horizons #pokemon 2023 #pokeani #spinel #spinel pokemon #pokemon spinel #pokemon explorers #explorers pokemon #explorers #umbreon

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drivinmeinsane · 6 months

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Thoughts on Officer KD6-3.7 as a romantic partner

It takes K a long time to confront his own feelings about you, much less say it out loud. He was worried that if he acknowledged the love he feels for you, he would be irreparably changed, never close to baseline again. He wasn’t wrong. To love and to be loved in return is to be changed.

He uses terms of endearment for you more than he uses your name. It helps to make his dreams of serene domesticity more of a reality. “sweetheart”, “darling”, and “honey” are his go-tos. The first time you called him by a pet name, he stopped dead in his tracks, completely overwhelmed. It gives him a sense of humanity, of belonging, when you call by something kind.

K would never miss a special date. He’ll even go so far as to make up his own milestones and celebrations as an excuse to do something nice for you when the mood strikes. It’s your anniversary today? Sure, of the twentieth Tuesday you’ve known him.

The replicant is touch starved. Even simple brushes of your hand against his or grazes of your bodies together when you move past one another is enough to bring him leaning into your space, chasing the sensation. It is not something he seems to have control over.

He's more comfortable being touched than being the one to touch. He’s not accustomed to being allowed to initiate contact with no orders or with implied permission. Once K overcomes that barrier, he can hardly keep his hands off of you. He places lingering hands on your arms, brushes his fingers over your palm, winds your hair around his fingers, anything at all to feel something tangible and remind himself that you are here with him.

He wants so badly to be real for you. In his worst moments, he’s worried that he won’t ever be enough, that his status as a replicant makes him lesser, not worthy of your affections. His fears lead him to believe that you would prefer an organic partner.

K often tells you that you don’t have to be nice to him, that you don’t have to treat him with the care and tenderness that you do. He can’t seem to fathom that you actually want him. He doesn’t have anything to offer you but himself and that’s hardly worth having, isn’t it?

He would do anything within the realm of his capabilities for you. You are the most important thing in his existence. He wishes he were not a despised pet tethered to the LAPD. He wishes he could leave without becoming what he retires.

He reads to you. It takes his mind off the work day. The apartment isn’t filled with many books, but you enjoy each of them because the time he spends reading out loud is soothing for the both of you. His steady voice lulls you into a relaxed state from where he reads in his chair as you sit on the couch with his feet resting on your lap. His voice gets rougher and deeper when you trace nonsensical patterns over his legs.

While he’s not supposed to take items from crime scenes, he does it anyway, slipping them into the pockets on the inside of his coat. He comes home and shows what he has taken to you with the earnest hope that you will enjoy the meager offering. He can’t afford to give you much, but he can do this.

He always looks at you like you’re going to disappear. His eyes scan you like a data screen any chance he gets. He’s memorizing everything about you with each pass of his eyes. He holds those observations close for fear they’ll be all he has left of you. He doesn’t get to keep things. He doesn’t get to own anything that can’t be taken away. He’s a possession himself.

18+ content under the cut.

His cum is bio-luminescent. In the dark, it glows a pretty blue to match his eyes. It's another reminder that K is not quite human.

He's nervous about sexual contact due to past experiences and trauma. You're one of the very few people that he's actually wanted to be intimate with. He’s firm, almost aggressive, in bed. He’s starved for physical intimacy for so long, that he longs to feast, to make up for the absence.

K firmly believes that he is a tool. He is made to give, not to receive, so it surprises him every time when you want to bring him pleasure for the sake of it. The novelty of receiving a blow job or something that focuses solely on him never wears off.

He has a breeding kink. He knows it's impossible for him to get anyone pregnant, but it's nice to occasionally lose himself in the fantasy of being real enough to make it happen.

If Joi is an active participant in your lives, one thing that really gets him off is engaging in sex with you while Joi is activated. Her being there to murmur encouraging things to the both of you, dictating how you should touch each other, gets him cumming embarrassingly fast.

{ m a s t e r l i s t }

#blade runner 2049 #blade runner #br2049 #officer k #kd6-3.7 #officer k imagines #blade runner 2049 headcanons #officer k headcanons #ryan gosling character #my posts #my work #just to put it out there. i've been referring to k's uh.... release as glozz (glow jizz)#it's been knocking around in my head ever since wrote the driver/ken fic that mentioned ken's glizz (glitter jizz)

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taeswolfie · 6 months

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𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝑭𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 : 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑻𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒗𝒆

☽︎𝑪𝒐𝒅𝒆 𝑩𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒓☾︎

Ch.11 - Ch.13 (coming soon)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x fem!Reader

Word count: 5.1k

Peter stands over the bloody and unconscious bodies of Y/n and Lydia, Stiles on his knees near them. Now that Peter has the information he wanted, he wants to go and take Stiles with him. "No, I'm- I'm not just letting you leave them here."

"You don't have a choice, Stiles. You're coming with me." He wipes the blood from his chin.

"Just kill me. Look, I don't care anymore."

Peter steps up to Stiles and puts his claw under the boys chin, making him stand up. "Call your friend." He lowers his hand. "Tell Jackson where they are. That's all you get." Knowing that this is the best he'll get Stiles pulls out his phone and calls Jackson, only telling him that the girls are badly hurt and that he needs to get them. Peter strides off and Stiles takes one more look at Y/n before he reluctantly follows the man.

Y/n stirs. The first thing she's aware of is that everything hurts. She shifts a bit and groans. She opens her eyes and they still glow their vibrant amethyst, her magic already working to heal her. She carefully hovers her hands over the slashes to help speed it along enough for her to move. As soon as she's able she gets up and looks around. Stiles and Peter are gone, but Lydia is still here. "Lydia." She breathes and moves to check her over. She puts a hand on her head and sighs after a moment. She'll be alright.

Y/n looks up when she sees movement out of the corner of her eye from afar. Jackson is coming for them. She can't go to the hospital, she'll heal too fast and she doesn't want to deal with questions about that or her eyes. With a grunt of effort she stands and then, with a bit of assistance from her magic, she runs away and to the woods. Jackson will get Lydia help. For now she needs to help herself. Jackson doesn't see her leave, his focus on Lydia when he sees what state she's in and carries her back to the school for help.

Y/n keeps running until her legs give out and she collapses, leaning her back on a tree as she takes labored breathes. Her hands grip where she was impaled, slashes nearly done healing with only pink scars that will soon fade to nothing in another hour or so. She leans her head back, closing her eyes with a sudden dry sob. Everything is going so wrong and she blames herself. If she had just listened to her senses, Lydia might not have been hurt and Stiles wouldn't be God knows where with a psycho.

"Stiles..."

...

The blue Jeep speeds down the road, Stiles is tense as he drives while Peter casually looks out the window from the passenger side. Stiles sighs and Peter looks over. "Don't feel bad. Your girlfriend will be healed soon enough." He says nonchalantly.

"You don't know that. You didn't bite her." He says this, yet his mind goes to her eyes.

"The Bite would do nothing for someone like her."

"What do you mean 'someone like her'?" Stiles doesn't understand, but he can guess that maybe Y/n isn't human like he thought.

Peter just gives him a smile, not intending to answer him and Stiles lets it go with another sigh. "You know, if the red head lives, she'll become a werewolf. She'll be incredibly powerful."

"Yeah, and once a month, she'll go out of her freaking mind and try to tear people apart."

"Well, actually, considering that she's a woman... Twice a month." Stiles looks over at him in disbelief, very much not appreciating the joke. They eventually pull into a parking garage. They get out and Peter quickly rounds the car to grab Stiles by his collar and pull him along. He stops at the back of a car a few spaces down and Peter pulls keys from his pocket.

"Whose car is this?"

"It belonged to my nurse." Peter simply replies as he starts to open the trunk.

"What happened to your n- oh, my God!" Stiles jumps back when the trunk is opened and the body of Jennifer is revealed. Peter grabs the bag from under her arm and hands it to Stiles, the teen too stunned to look away.

Peter looks between Stiles and the body for a second. "I got better." Is all he answered him with before he closed the trunk. He soon set up for Stiles to track Scott's phone and find Derek.

"Good luck getting a signal down here." And then Peter hands him a small device. "Oh, MiFi." He takes it and Peter opens up a laptop. "And you're a Mac guy. Does that go for all werewolves, or just personal preference?"

Peter ignores his remarks. "Turn it on. Get connected."

"You know, you're really killing the whole werewolf mystique thing here." He gets to work. "Look, you still need Scott's username and password, and I'm sorry, but I don't know them."

"You know both of them."

"No, I don't." Stiles still denies.

"Even if I couldn't hear your heartbeat, I would still be able to tell that you're lying."

"Dude, I swear to God-" He's cut off by an exclamation of pain as Peter roughly shoves his face onto the keyboard.

"I can be very persuasive, Stiles. Don't make me persuade you."

Stiles doesn't need the 'persuading' as Peter lets him go and Stiles types away. "What happens after you find Derek?"

"Don't think, Stiles. Type." He demands.

"You're gonna kill people, aren't you?"

"Only the responsible ones."

"Look, if I do this, you have to promise to leave Scott out of it."

"Do you know why wolves hunt in packs?" Stiles lightly rolls his eyes at the impromptu lesson. "It's because their favorite prey are too large to be brought down by one wolf alone. I need Derek and Scott. I need both of them."

"He's not gonna help you."

"Oh, he will. Because it'll save Allison. And you will, because it will save Scott. Your best friend whom you know so well, you even have his username and password." Stiles sighs. He has no choice, he has to put them in. He taps seven keys and Peter looks a bit bemused. "His username is 'Allison'?" Stiles presses seven more keys. "His password is also 'Allison'?" He looks unimpressed now.

"Still want him in your pack?" He raises a brow at Peter.

...

Y/n is healed now, eyes having dimmed to e/c, but she's still in the same spot she was when she collapsed. She keeps thinking about how she messed up, what she didn't do and what she could have done. It's not normal for her to be plagued with so much self-doubt, but in a situation like this, it's very normal.

She knows Lydia will be fine, for now at least, but what about Stiles and Scott? Stiles was with Peter, which, in and of itself, wasn't good at all, but she hadn't seen Scott since the dance. What happened after he left for Allison? Nothing good she guessed. This whole night has been no good.

She perks up a bit when she hears a distant howl. Scott is calling for Derek. A few minutes go by before another howl rings through the air. Derek is calling back.

She finally looks down at her hands. What is she doing here? Scott is out there trying to help Derek and she's just sitting here beating herself for nothing. Yes, she didn't do something then, but she can do something now. And this time, she's ready. She clenches her fists and looks up in determination. She stands up and looks around for a moment trying to decide what to do, but a twinge in her chest decides for her. Scott can handle Derek. Right now, she needs to find Stiles.

...

"Wait, what the- that's where they're keeping him?" Stiles asks, confused at what he's seeing on the screen. "At his own house?"

Peter squints at the screen in thought until a look of realization dawns on his face. "Not at it. Under it. I know exactly where that is." A distant howl makes him turn his head. "And I'm not the only one." Peter gathers the tech and puts it in the back of the car, another howl reaching his ears as he closes the door. "Give me your keys."

Stiles sighs and fishes his keys from his pocket, holding them for Peter to take. "Careful. She grinds in second." Stiles assumes he's wanting to take the Jeep, but all Peter does is bend them so that they're unusable. Stiles takes them back in disbelief as Peter moves to the driver's seat of the late nurse's car. "So you're not gonna kill me?" Peter looks at him and takes a few steps making Stiles shrink back a bit. "Okay, I-"

"Don't you understand yet? I'm not the bad guy here."

"You turn into a giant monster with red eyes and fangs, and you're not the bad guy here?"

"I like you, Stiles." Stiles sighs. "Since you've helped me, I'm going to give you something in return. Do you want the Bite?"

"What?" Stiles asks after a moment.

"Do you want the Bite?" He repeats a bit slower. "If it doesn't kill you, and it could, you'll become like us."

"Like you."

"Yes, a werewolf. Would you like me to draw you a picture? That first night in the woods, I took Scott because I needed a new pack. It could've easily been you. You'd be every bit as powerful as him. No more standing by his side, watching him become stronger, and quicker, more popular, watching him get the girl. You'd be equals. Or maybe more." He takes Stiles' wrist and holds it up. Stiles doesn't resist, seemingly falling into the web woven by Peter's silver tongue. "Yes or no?" Stiles doesn't say yes, but he also doesn't say no. Peter takes that as a yes and opens his mouth, fangs bared, and brings his wrist closer. But then Stiles yanks his arm back from the wolf's grip.

"I don't wanna be like you."

"Do you know what I heard just then? Your heart beating slightly faster over the words 'I don't want'. You may believe that you're telling me the truth, but you are lying to yourself. Goodbye, Stiles." Peter gets in the car and drives away leaving Stiles by himself. He has a moment of pause, what do I do now? Then it hits him. The hospital. He looks at his Jeep and his ruined keys before he breaks out into a sprint, running the whole way there.

When he finally gets to the hospital he squeezes past the elevator doors before they're fully open because he's desperate to see if they're okay. He rushes forward towards Lydia's room because that's the first one he sees, but his dad stops him. "You know what? It's a good thing that we're in a hospital, because I'm gonna kill you." Noah says angrily.

"I'm- I'm sorry. I lost the keys to my Jeep. I had to run all the way here."

"Stiles, I don't care!"

"Are they gonna be okay?"

"They? Who's they? Are you telling me someone else besides Lydia is hurt out there?"

"Y/n... she's not-?" Stiles trails off suddenly confused, but then shakes his head. He's stuck between being relieved that maybe she was okay and worried about where she was and if she actually was okay. "Nevermind. I-I thought... Is Lydia gonna be okay?"

Noah glances back at the girl in the hospital bed, looking back with a small sigh. "They don't know, partially because they don't know what happened. She lost a lot of blood, but there's something else going on with her."

"Wh-what do you mean?"

"The doctors say it's like she's having an allergic reaction. Her body keeps going into shock. Did you see anything? I mean, do you have any idea who or what attacked her?"

Stiles looks at his dad for a moment. Yes, he knows, but he can't tell Noah that because he wouldn't believe him, so he has to lie. Again. "No. No, I have no idea."

"What about Scott or Y/n?"

Stiles glances over the mention of the girl and instead focuses on the fact Scott wasn't there. "What do you mean? What about Scott?"

"Did he see anything?"

"What do you- is he not here?"

"What are you talking about? I've been calling him on his cell phone. I've gotten no response."

Stiles looks down and then at Jackson over Noah's shoulder. Jackson just gives a shrug saying 'I don't know'. Stiles sighs. "Yeah, you're not gonna get one."

Eventually Stiles gets Noah to tell him about his investigation, that Lydia had nothing to do with an almost ten-year-old arson case. He definitively decided it was arson when he got a key witness, one he won't tell Stiles the identity of. He tells Stiles that it was probably organized by a young woman who wore a defining pendant and that she's in her late 20's by now. Noah has to take a call and Stiles rubs his head in frustration trying to think, and then suddenly he pieces it together.

"Oh."

"Hey, where are you going?" Jackson asks Stiles as he follows him through the hospital.

"To find Scott and Y/n."

"You don't have a car."

"I'm aware of that. Thank you."

"Here, I'll drive. Come on-" Jackson puts a hand on Stiles' shoulder making him stop and round on him.

"Look, just because you feel guilty all of a sudden doesn't make it okay, all right? Half of this is still your fault."

"Look, I have a car. You don't. Do you want my help or not?"

"All right." He finally relents. "Did you bring the Porsche?"

"Yeah." He pulls the keys from his pocket.

"Good. I'll drive." He snatches the keys from Jackson's hand.

They go to continue walking, but stop when they see Chris Argent and two more Hunters. "Boys. I was wondering if you can tell me where Scott McCall is."

"Scott McCall? Um... Haven't seen him since the dance." Stiles plays it cool.

"Hmm."

"Jackson, you?" Stiles keeps his eyes on the man in front of them.

"Uh... I... Uh..." Jackson can not play it cool for even a second.

"Oh, for the love of God." Stiles knows they're screwed. They throw the teens into an empty room and lock the doors.

Chris holds Stiles against the door. "Let me ask you a question, Stiles. Have you ever seen a rabid dog?"

"No. I can put it on my to-do list if you just let me go."

"Well, I have, and the only thing I've ever been able to compare it to is seeing a friend of mine turn on a full moon. Do you wanna know what happened?"

"Not really. No offense to your storytelling skills."

"He tried to kill me, and I was forced to put a bullet in his head." He enunciates his words by roughly tapping on Stiles forehead. "The whole while that he lay there dying, he was still trying to claw his way toward me, still trying to kill me, like it was the most important thing he could do with his last breath. Can you imagine that?"

Stiles shakes his head. "No. And it sounds like you need to be a little bit more select-"

He cuts Stiles off by slamming his hands into the door behind him. "Did Scott try to kill you on the full moon? Did you have to lock him up?"

"Yeah, I did. I had to handcuff him to a radiator. Why? Would you prefer I locked him in the basement and burned the whole house down around him?"

Chris points a finger and gives a small chuckle. "I hate to dispel a popular rumor, Stiles, but we never did that."

"Oh, right. Derek said you guys had a code. I guess no one ever breaks it."

"Never."

"What if someone does?"

"Someone like who?"

"Your sister." Chris clenches his jaw as he looks at the teen.

He eventually lets the boys go and leaves after he made Stiles explain what he meant. Stiles and Jackson stand in the hall for a moment to just recover from that ordeal. "Stiles!" A sudden call of his name from a familiar voice makes him whip his head towards the sound, a sharp sigh of relief when he sees Y/n running to him. He stumbles a bit when she throws herself at him and hugs him tightly, his arms going around her just as tight. "I'm so glad you're okay." She breathed.

"Me okay? Are you okay?" He pulls away from her, his hands still holding onto her biceps to look her over. There's not a scratch on her, not a drop of blood, even her dress was mended, no sign of the claws that had torn the fabric to shreds. "What- how-"

"There's no time to explain right now. I promise I will tell you anything and everything, but we need to find Scott." He wants answers now, but he knows she's right so he nods and they all race to Jackson's car.

...

Kate has tried to get Allison to kill Scott and Derek yet she couldn't do it. When she went to do it herself Chris showed up and stopped her saying he knew what she did. Chris makes her lower her gun from Scott and then the door to the Hale house opened. Peter rushes past them in a blur. He knocks down Chris, then Allison, and lastly Scott, leaving Kate standing alone. He catches her right before she shoots him and he makes her drop it, throwing her onto the porch of the house. He drags her inside and Allison follows. He has Kate by the neck, claws poised to kill, and he makes a deal with Kate. Apologize for decimating his family and leaving him burned and broken for years and he'll let Allison live.

"I'm sorry." Kate breathes. A second later Peter slices her neck open, letting her fall to the ground to bleed out. Peter looks at Allison and decides that her apology didn't sound very sincere. He took a step towards her, but stops when Scott and Derek come in, shifted and ready. Scott tells Allison to run and she does, a moment later the two Betas charge at the Alpha. The three fight as Allison checks on her dad who is still unconscious. As the werewolves fight Peter slowly shifts into his large monster wolf form.

...

Stiles races down the dirt roads trying to get to the Hale house as fast as possible. "Hey, hey, hey. This isn't exactly an all-terrain vehicle." Jackson complains from the back.

"Yeah. Did you pay for it?" Stiles asks as he drives.

Jackson sighs. "No."

"Then shut up." Y/n looks over at Stiles with a grin. Probably not the best time to find something like that attractive, but damn, was that attractive.

...

Peter throws Scott out of the window and Allison watches with wide eyes. Peter goes up to Scott and picks him up, holding him up to his face. His feet dangle off the ground. Scott glares at him and gives him a hard kick in the chest making Peter drop him and flail back, falling down. Tires screech and a horn honks as Stiles pulls up, the lights of the car shining right on the Alpha. The three jump out and Stiles throws a conical flask filled with liquid towards the beastly man, but he catches it. "Ohhh, damn." Stiles deflates.

"Nice catch." Y/n sarcastically remarks as she stands in front of the Porsche, eyes glowing angrily. She stretches out a hand, Peter growls. She snaps her fingers. The flask explodes and the contents ignite, coating his arms in flames. She takes a few angry steps forward as her hands become covered in purple tinted flames. She gathers the flames in both hands and hurls it at the Alpha, his whole body now aflame. He roars in pain and sets his eyes on Allison, lunging at her in a last ditch effort.

"No!" Scott yells, jumping up and kicking him away. Peter stumbles as he shifts back to his human form, falling to his knees, burned and gasping for air, and falls onto his back. Allison goes to Scott and when he turns his face from her she tilts it back. She kisses him and he shifts back to normal. Y/n turns her head to Stiles as her eyes dim and she nervously clenches her teeth. He walks over to her and gently takes her hands, turning them over for any burn marks.

"You're not hurt?" He asks.

She let's out a startled laugh before she shakes her head. "No. I'm completely injury free. Promise. You're not... Freaked out?"

"You still have some explaining to do, but... No. I'm not freaked out. Honestly that was kinda hot." He smirked and she laughed again.

"You're such an idiot." She smiled fondly, putting her hand on the back of his neck to bring him closer and kiss him. They pull away at the sound of crunching leaves and everyone looks over as Derek walks up to Peter while he gasps for air on the ground. He stands over him, a foot on either side of Peter, and kneels down.

"Wait!" Scott runs over. "You said the cure comes from the one who bit you. Derek. If you do this, I'm dead. Her father, her family- what am I supposed to do?"

Derek doesn't answer and everyone watches tensely. "You've... already... decided." Peter breathes out between labored breaths. He forces himself to look at Derek, his eyes shining red. "I can smell it on you!"

Derek raises his claws.

"Wait! No, no! Don't!"

He slashes Peter's throat. His eyes fade and he gurgles, choking on his blood. Peter exhales one last time. Derek stands up and looks back at Scott. His eyes glow red now instead of blue. "I'm the Alpha now."

...

Y/n sits in a chair across from Scott and Stiles who are sitting on her couch in her living room. All of them have changed clothes and she asked them here to finally tell them the truth. "So..." She starts off and takes a deep breath. "I've been keeping a secret from you both. At first it wasn't relevant, but now that Scott's a werewolf and you both know about the supernatural, I've been lying and I'm sorry." She frowned a bit.

"What have you been lying about?" Scott asked.

"Everything pretty much. I knew more than I let on sometimes and if it wasn't obvious already, I'm not human."

"That would explain the glowing eyes and the fire hands." Stiles lightly jokes and she huffs a quiet laugh.

"Yeah."

"So if you're not human, what are you?" Scott wondered.

She sighed and clasped her hands together. "I'm a witch."

Stiles raises his brows and the boys glance at each other in mild surprise. "A witch? Like- like spells and hexes, type witch?"

"To put it simply, yes." She nodded and looked between them, worry written in her eyes at how they'll react.

"That's so cool." Scott smiles and Stiles nods, eagerly agreeing. She smiles in relief and lets out a breath she didn't even know she was holding.

"Do you ride a broomstick?" Stiles suddenly asks and she rolls her eyes.

"Pretty sure that's a myth. Although I wouldn't be surprised if another witch out there somehow made it happen. I, myself, have not done that."

"Was your mom a witch?" Scott wonders and she nods.

"What else can you do?"

"Um, I can heal wounds, manipulate the elements, see the dead."

"Wait, what?" Stiles cuts her off. "You can see the dead?" She nods. "Badass." He smiles.

"I also have heightened senses, like I can smell things normal people wouldn't if I pay attention and I can hear things too. Like how nervous I make you sometimes." She smirks at Stiles and his eyes widen slightly in embarrassment.

Scott smiles at the exchange. "Is that normal for witches?"

"I don't think so, to be honest. I actually think those things came from my father, but I have no idea who he is so I have no way of knowing for sure." She shrugs a bit.

"Can you show us something?" Stiles asks with a hint of excitment in his tone.

"More than the fire?" To her slight surprise both of them nod and she shakes her head with a smile. "All right." She takes a breath and her eyes glow. She reaches out with her magic and makes her grimoire levitate down the stairs and into her hands. The boys watch in amazement and she grins at them. "This is my grimoire. I made it myself when I was 13. It holds all of the knowledge my predecessors had gathered before me. This is how we learn and when we learn something new, we write it down and pass it on." She handed it to them to let them look at it.

Stiles looked up at her with a sudden thought. "Do you think you could tell what's happening to Lydia?"

"What's happening to Lydia?" Her smile fades as she now becomes worried. With everything that's happened tonight she hadn't been able to check on her or even hear anything about her till now.

"My dad said that the doctors don't know what's wrong with her and that her body kept going into shock like an allergic reaction."

"What the hell are we sitting around here for?" She exclaimed as she stood. She quickly snags the grimoire from their hands, sending it back up to her room, and hefting them up by their collars to get them out the door.

Y/n, Scott, and Stiles snuck into the hospital, keeping low to the ground to avoid being spotted. "Shut the door." Scott whispers and Stiles grabs hold of the handle, starting to close it with a loud squeek. Y/n squints her eyes in disbelief and motions for him to stop, which he thankfully does. A flash of her eyes and a wave of her fingers coaxes the door to close quietly, a twitch of her hand makes it lock. The boys look at her and she smiles a bit smugly. Although it falls as they stand and she looks at Lydia.

She walks to Lydia's left and gently touches her hair with a frown. "Oh, Lydia." She says quietly as the boys join her side. She sighs and moves her hand away to lift the side of her gown revealing the bloody bandage. Stiles looks away as she gently peels back the tape and lifts the bandage. Her and Scott look at the spot in confusion.

"Is it completely healed?" Stiles asked.

"No, not at all." Scott answers. Stiles looks over in shock and, true to his word, the wound was still very much there.

"I don't get it. The doctor said she'd be fine."

"She will, but the bite isn't healing." Y/n said. "She's not a werewolf."

"Then what the hell is she?"

Y/n frowned and replaced the bandage, taking Lydia's hand in hers right after. She closes her eyes and lets her magic flow over Lydia, feeling for anything. There's something there, but she can't tell what it is. She opens her eyes and looks at them with furrowed brows. "I don't know."

...

The moon shines brightly in the sky as Stiles lounges in his backyard. Y/n walks over and smiles down at him before settling down and laying next to him to stargaze. They point out different constellations and Y/n laughs every time he makes connections for random things like a her shoe and even the Jeep, things that she could actually see which made it funnier. She looked over at him as he smiled, a bit victoriously at having made her laugh again. She admired the moles that dotted his skin and found she'd rather make connections between these stars instead of the ones above.

She reached over and gently traced patterns on his skin, her fingertips leaving tingles in their wake. He's not sure if he'll ever get used to that sensation, but a part of him hopes he never does. It's addicting. He turned his head to look at her, turning his face more into her palm in the process. "Are you sure you still want to be with me even though I'm not like you?" She asks, her voice barely above a whisper. The question had been on her mind ever since she told him what she was. She's glad she did it, but it still worries her what he'll do now that he knows.

"Y/n, you don't have to be like me for me to fall for you. Honestly, if you suddnely came out and told me you were, like, a three headed bird lady, I'd still want to be with you." Y/n suddenly laughed, words eerily similar spoken by Alan ringing through her head. He furrowed his brows at her yet still smiled.

"Good." She finally said and sat up, propping herself up on an elbow to look down at him. "Because you're stuck with me now, Stilinski."

"I think I can live with that." They smiled at each other and he reached a hand up to cup her cheek, moving it to the back of her head to bring her down for a kiss. She laid back down next to him and he put an arm around her. She raised a hand up to the sky, eyes glowing with a soft violet. She conjured glowing sparks like glittering fireflies that danced around her fingers. She set the moon in her sights, tracing a heart shape in the air, the sparkles staying where she left them. She then wrote their initials in the middle like something from a cheesy camp movie. She thought it was cute and Stiles seemed to feel the same as he let out a little 'aww' at the gesture. He pulled her closer and pressed a kiss to her temple. She scrunches her nose up a bit and chuckles. She turned to the glittering heart and gently blew on it, dispersing the magic and letting it drift into the sky.

Ch.13

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angelsdemonsandhumans · 10 months

Text

💛❞𝐖𝐞'𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞!❝💛

; Mammon carries you to the house of lamentation because you are too tired to keep walking.

; Gn!Reader.

; You don't have much confidence with Mammon yet.

──────────────────────────────

[Picture source; Pinterest. It belongs to whoever drew it, and please inform me if you know.]

The avatar of Greed was walking with two envelopes in his hands, in the mall.

You had been wandering around all day now, never stopping, going to visit every expensive shop that could be found there, since Mammon was over the moon; he won the lottery, and was delighted! He never stopped saying how many things he would and could buy with money, how happy he was; but he wanted someone to accompany him and of course the first person that came to mind was you.

And that's why at the moment you had a not too heavy black envelope in your hand, every step you took made your feet burn, your heels were very sore and you were tired. However, asking the demon next to you to stop a second wasn't exactly the best option; he would tease you for being so weak that you couldn't even walk much, complaining how because of you he would be late, like he always did.

It had been a short time since you joined Lord Diavolo's exchange program, so you had not a close enough relationship with the 6 brothers yet. In fact, you were even surprised that he chose you for shopping!

But after a few more minutes of walking, you stopped. Mammon kept walking and only when he was a few meters away he realized he was alone, and that only he was hearing his speech too. Was he talking to herself for 5 minutes?!

«HUMAN!» he yelled after a few seconds of realization, running towards you with the envelopes clutched in his hands; there was everything in there, all heavy stuff ( at least he gave you not too heavy stuff, knowing you couldn't be strong enough to lift all those things, he had really bought things that weighed kilos and kilos, so much weird devildom things you've never seen , not to mention the food).

You sat on a bench inside the mall, watching as he ran towards you, stopping and placing the bags next to your form and putting his hands on his hips. He didn't even have them red.. whatever, he was a demon, of course he was strong. After a few seconds you realized that you were staring at Mammon, lost in your own thoughts.

«OI! ARE YOU THERE? We have to get home before Lucifer loses his temper! I brought dinner, and it's HIS turn to cook, or else I'll have to do it AND deal with Beel as punishment! Ugh, why does everything always fall on me?! Hurry up!» he spoke as if he had been forced to take you shopping with him.. honestly he was the brother you disliked the most.

He treated you badly, like you were a nobody. He didn't even call you by your name! And he subdued you so much. He had a bad temper.. if only he had more respect towards you. For the moment, the one you liked most was Asmodeus; you didn't know him so well, but when you all ate together at the table he was the one that involved you the most in conversations, and he was always sweet with you.

Mammon grabbed your arm to pull you up, throwing a tantrum and still complaining that "you didn't have to stay there and you had to move to get home". It was boring.. he would have been more fun if he wasn't so rude to you.

«Mammon.. my feet hurts. I will come just let me rest a bit. It's hours we run and go everywhere non-stop» the avatar of Greed stared at you.

Demons walked around you, roaming the center withou problem, while the two of you eyed each other. He seemed annoyed and mostly frustrated.

But what he did next was unexpected. He snorted heavily and took all three envelopes in his left arm, leaving you empty handed, then bent down and with his right one he grabbed your waist and pulled you up bodily. Consequently you clung to his neck squealing softly, eyes widening slightly as you felt yourself being plucked off the bench and slammed onto his side.

«Let's just get this over with» he muttered as he proceeded to walk in the direction of the House of Lamentation.

You blinked a couple times, realizing what was happening before slowly resting your head on his shoulder. He didn't say anything, so you stayed that way.

Once you two were home, he put you down and complained about "having to carry you all the way there and that he was the one who was tired".

Your bed was really comfy. You throw yourself there as soon as you entered the room, closing your eyes and relaxing after the warmth of the blankets and the pillow under your head.

When you heard the door opening (no knocking?) You jumped and turned to look at who was disturbing your rest.

Mammon. Why was Mammon in your room?

«Hey, listen up, human! Whatever went down today... I only did it 'cause you were practically begging for help, alright?! You're so damn worthless and useless, can't even manage to stand on your own feet! Just count yourself lucky that the Great Mammon decided to bring you along!» you stared at him. For a long time. Then you turned away; that's why you didn't like him.

The demon gasped loudly, staring at you as if you had committed a sin, frowning «HEY! QUIT IGNORIN' ME!» he said deeply offended, but he did not approach you. And you continued to ignore him; you didn't want to listen to him one second longer.

After a while, you heard the door slam shut and you turned to see how you'd come back alone. Fortunately...

That night, you found yourself sleeping with him in your bed. He had a bad dream.. you wondered if he had at least a shred of dignity at that moment.

You patted his back while he squeezed your hips, hugging you, with his head on your shoulder. You sighed.

«There.. there..» you murmured, observing her perfectly white hair. They were really beautiful...

Well, it was no coincidence that Mammon was a model. And he really was, sometimes you had a hard time believing it ..

Comments and reblogs are welcome!

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