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infectedbride · 7 months

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GOING CRAZY RN, CRIMSON CROWN UPDATED AGAIN🗣🗣🗣

Crimson Crown (Pt. 3)

Royal! AU Miguel O'Hara x Princess! Reader

Special thanks to @pinkiemme for this amazing fanart for this fic ❤️✨

WARNINGS: Angst, Sibling bonding, awkward talks, mild squeeze of jealousy if you squint, Bit of fluff, meaningful talks, slow burn, apologies, tension, arranged marriage.

Summary: In the admist of a feely chaos, a common ground is found.

Thanks to my beta reader @oharasmommymilkers00 <3

Every bendable joint stretched, and some popped as you awoke, but in all honesty, functioning today wasn't something you wanted to do. Thoughts rooting heavier in your head upon remembering last night's events.

Your face sunk into the pillow, allowing its plush and warm embrace to cradle your face longer. Bloodshot eyes turned glossy and soon one tear fell. Another followed and so on, as if your body had finally released all the bad things that you had been bottling up.

You didn't cherish it, just finally dwelled on it, giving in to the sadness you had pushed away for so long that it came biting back at you before reaching for your diary and writing all your suffering away. Some tears certainly had stained the pages as you wrote.

Dainty hand scribbled angrily and pained but eventually stopped after a couple of pages. The servants announced their presence to bring your first meal of the day. A bit of gruel and fruit.

One of the servants stared at you for a second, but quickly returned to her duties, leaving you alone once more. Appetite wasn't something you wanted to indulge in too much, but certainly, you'd need the energy if you wanted to go out.

You ate in between stacking all the paintings back in the wooden box. The colorful landscape of your room was slowly returning to its dull color. The sheets and the hardened tainted tips of the paintbrushes were the only things that popped out.

The paintings were stacked into a corner as you made the space for another hobby, almost leaving the place as you had originally acquired it. Cold, empty, home of the darkness that loved to sit and watch you from the corners.

You'd miss your mother's comforting words after a terrible day, you missed Lucille. Sometimes you'd indeed wonder what would she be doing. Why Miguel forbade to bring her in was a mystery to you. The only thing certain is that you needed your friend. You needed a friend.

Of course, you missed the little cherry tart Lucille gave you every time she'd find you crying. The strolls through the castle she'd take you to whenever your parents discussed things so carelessly before you. But none of that mattered anymore.

A princess's duty was far more than just training oneself in the arts and being well-versed in many things. The ugly side of it, something you'd recently been acquainted with, had taught you the real meaning of being a royal. Sacrifice.

Even though your kingdom was now under the protection of Arachne, the price in return seemed a bit too high. Your happiness. But again as your mother had said

Our wishes matter little when men decide it's fun to play war.

Those words have stuck with you ever since. Marriage was something you didn't though too much, despite your father's attempts to marry you to a king of abroad lands. He even had considered offering your hand in marriage to Kraven if it meant to keep the peace. Of course, your mother had opposed greatly, but she was only saving you up as her last card under the sleeve and handed you over to the biggest player in the war-waging game, Miguel.

Miguel had won. Like usual. You were to marry him within two months and a week. It finally dawned on you—cold and bitter truth. You dreaded marrying him and just acting like a public figure for both kingdoms. He didn't need you, much to your maudlin reasoning, you knew he was more than capable of leading the kingdom on his own.

He doesn't need you

Your mind chanted. And for a moment you believed it. The way he acted, showing little glimpses of kindness to then completely ignoring you until he saw fitting not doing so, either by his counselor's advice or a little guilt.

Guiltiness

Of course not. The man had slayed without remorse anything that meddled with his kingdom. You were sure that if your realm would have much more resources, you'd be at war with him.

But this kind of war, an inner one, was something you were losing.

You had seen his little to no reaction to what his brother had called you. The word made you sick, but it made you sicker to know he let everything unfold.

So so cold.

Mere politics. A game in which you were a pawn. His pawn. It kind of made you wonder what kind of mistresses he had.

Had you met them without realizing it? Hopefully not, and you prayed for it to never happen. You wouldn't be able to stand it. A reason why you admired so much your mother.

On rare occasions, you had seen her cry because your father preferred a mistress' than her own company, but she always held her head high, face cold and proud. Never allowing the rest to see her waver.

Fresh tears were wiped off your face as the servants came once more. You bathed and prepared for the day. Peter came in once you were ready, frowning for a moment at your reddened face, his eyes noticed you had cleaned up the painting area, leaving it bare.

"Your Majesty" Peter greeted

You bowed at him.

"Could I have Lady Gwen and Lord Hobie to accompany me today?"

Peter tilted his head in confusion, "Beg your pardon?"

"I will go to the city, I need some supplies."

"You could ask and the king-"

"He's done enough. I don't wish to keep using his good faith when I can get them myself, ser Peter."

The words felt sharp as they came out of your mouth, but in truth, you didn't want to keep adding to his stress.

You sighed as your fist clenched for a moment on the skirt of your dress.

" And I need to clear my head. A trip to the city would be good."

"You've got to understand that I cannot leave your side, right?"

"If you get in trouble, I'll take full responsibility for it."

Peter's eyes softened and nodded.

"I'll call them."

-------

"Are you awake?" Gabriel spoke as he entered Miguel's chambers. The king received him with a grunt as he looked at some new reports Jessica had brought him.

"Of course you are. Did you even get some sleep?"

"No."

"Surprise, surprise." Gabriel shook his head and took one report. Miguel's gaze fixed on him, a little hidden smile creeping on his face.

"What are you doing?"

Gabriel's hand unfolded yet another report, "Helping you."

"I can do it myself."

"It's my kingdom too. Of course, I need to know what is happening around."

Miguel chuckled and let him. They remained quiet, going through the many reports. Some weren't as urgent as the others, surveillance of areas, economics, politics, and letters incoming from other kingdoms.

A couple of ones directed to you. Your parents mostly and one from a woman named Lucille. He put your cards away and let one of his agents, Margo, deliver them to you. He didn't trust regular servants to deliver such personal things, too much of a risky move.

"What are the plans for today besides pouring yourself to work?"

Miguel sighed and went through the last report before looking at Gabriel.

"I need to test some things before making advance in something else."

Gabriel rested against his chair and put his feet on the table, which Miguel quickly removed.

"Thought you'd like to apologize to your future bride."

"She doesn't want to be disturbed, and you're the one at fault. Not me."

Gabriel's eyes widened softly and he nodded.

"Still, I might send her a letter."

"No. You're to ask an audience with her and apologize. Make it right."

"What about you?"

Miguel waved him off, a sign to which Gabriel understood as 'I'll find a way later'.

"You know... heard the servants talking"

"I don't have time for gossip, Gabriel."

The younger O'Hara snorted and gestured towards him.

"They say they have seen your little princess crying. A lot, ever since she came here actually."

Miguel tensed for a moment and put the papers down.

"I know it's been forever since you've courted someone. But-"

"Courting doesn't lead a country"

Gabriel shrugged and stood. "In any case, I will apologize once she returns from her trip."

His words snapped Miguel's attention back at him.

"What trip?"

Gabriel smirked at his demanding tone, "She's in the city, looking for things."

Miguel pinched his nose bridge.

"She could've asked..."

"Peter sent her off-"

"What do you mean Peter is here?! He is supposed to be her guardian!"

Miguel secured the sword to his hip and darted out of his room. Gabriel seemed pleased as he followed him. He thrived in seeing his brother antsy and panicky over silly things.

A present reminder that he was still human, and not a belicista monster at heart like everyone made him to be.

Peter's eyes darted away from him upon his arrival.

"Why aren't you with the Princess?"

"She asked me not to come with her. Asked for Gwen and Hobie instead"

Miguel's icy glare remained on a scowling Peter.

"Why?"

"Ask her yourself."

Gabriel's excitement died upon sensing the tension between the both.

"Ser Peter, my apologies for interrupting your duty. But, do you know by chance where she has gone to?"

"She needed some space."

Away from you both.

Peter's mind wanted to say but it would surely gain his title removed. His mouth kept in a straight line as Miguel kept on glaring at him.

"She wanted to get some things for herself."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Peter sighed and shook his head.

"Because she said you'd done enough. And she doesn't want to be disturbed."

Gabriel cringed, his eyes darting back and forth between Miguel and Peter. He didn't mean to offend you, but something worse was happening. And it was his fault, yet Miguel was already seizing that burden as his own.

" Will you let us know when she arrives? I understand her wish to be left alone, but the distress I put her through yesterday needs to be addressed as soon as possible."

Peter just nodded as Miguel entered your chambers. His frown immediately deepens upon seeing the current state of your room. Just like he had given it to you. Bland, dull, and with no colors, just like your ongoing emotions.

The paints were carefully stacked in a corner, his gift stored back where he had sent it. The faint scent of your perfume, the only indicator you had been here, was subtly overpowered by the smell of dried oil paintings.

Your desk was neatly organized, but a couple of crumpled sheets ruined the pristine image. He took one and unfolded it bit by bit. A single word scribbled and scratched with such violence it tore the page.

Concubine.

He rubbed his face and crumpled the sheet once more. Angry steps guide him away from your room. Gabriel was out of his sight.

Good.

----

The trip had surely made your brain ease the anguish and bad thoughts your mind was spiraling into.

One thing you certainly liked about Arachne, was the many imported products you could find. That would mean, finding the golden Thelerian thread you used for your embroidering back at home.

Crimson, golden, green, indigo blue, and black along some hoops and needles. You also got some other materials. Hobie and Gwen followed you but kept their distance when sensing the gloominess taking over you. They just followed wherever you went. They gave you your space.

You'd stop at the baker's for his tarts, obviously. You got half a dozen of them. Along with some more books about Arachne.

There were a couple of interesting things that caught your attention. The machinery used was something you'd never seen before; and surely the affluence of foreign people.

If you paid close attention, you could distinguish the people from their origin country. Erunians’ upper class always dressed in fine linens with subtle armoring pieces, a couple of them paraded through the market.

You could spot some fellow Thelerians in the art and fabric shops. They'd be probably looking for supplies, as well for a new upcoming activity in the arts academy. A wistful and longing glance was thrown their way before your eyes met a flamboyant man, dressed in the silkiest fur coat you had seen so far.

An Onerimian. You saw other people, probably people from even further kingdoms of Enethor.

It made sense for Miguel to go to such extent as to marry himself in exchange for his country thriving. He was a king after all. No monarch would want their land suffering unless it was a terrible one. Which you had heard stories about.

Once your shopping ended, you got back into the carriage and returned to the palace.

-----

The news of your arrival fell upon both Miguel’s and Gabriel's ears. The latter got himself ready to talk to you.

"See you later, Miggy"

Miguel just grunted in response as he watched you from his window and rubbed his face on your melancholic expression.

The servants always talked, but seeing your face with saddened and dull eyes, made the headache grow gradually.

The council held less power than him, but even so, their influence was something he couldn't deny. An extension of his power. They helped him as well with so many other things, or else he'd never had a break.

Being a ruler wasn't easy, being the head of a whole nation was worse. For once, the questioning of his worth came into mind after so many years.

He had even sacrificed his health to keep the kingdom striving and together for the past seventeen years on his own. And in all that time a marriage never crossed his mind. Until now.

----

"Princess!"

Gabriel bowed with a serious face, and your discomfit grew, but you still pushed that aside and bowed back.

"My lord."

Gabriel sighed and clasped his hands before you.

"Could you spare me some minutes of your time for a hearing, your highness?"

Your heart thumped with violence inside your chest but you nodded

"Certainly, sir."

"Good. I... Thank you. I know you wanted to be left alone for the day, but I must apologize to you for my actions yesterday. It was completely out of line."

Gabriel sighed and looked at you, honest words and eyes fixed on your defeated form.

"I didn't know my brother had gotten engaged. I was out on duty and found out when I got to the castle. It has never been my intention to insult you, your highness."

"Your honesty is quite admirable, ser. Thanks for that"

"Do you accept my apologies?"

"Yes. Now if you'd excuse me, I must go"

Gabriel bowed and left you be.

The servants took your things inside your room as you bowed to everyone that greeted you.

Dinner time approached and the food was brought to your room.

Your mind gravitated towards Miguel. Thankful that he had respected your wishes to be left alone for the day.

What about tomorrow and the day after that?

Your hands faltered and a heavy sigh escaped your lips.

As long as you were kept busy, the rest didn't matter, right? He seemed way too contemptuous of being away and meddling with his affairs.

Probably with a mistress

Your breath hitched as you rubbed your face in disgust at your thoughts. What he did in his spare time was none of your business. Yet it was unavoidable to feel your chest constricting at your hurting thoughts.

Enough

Your mind rumbled as you focused on the new task before you. The embroidery was one of your favorites, it was calming and required your full attention. It helped you back at home.

-----

The next day went like nothing had happened. You were still in your room, embroidering. You were so engrossed in your task that got startled when a woman in her elite uniform cleared her throat, finally making her presence known to you.

"My apologies for startling you, your highness. I am Margo. One of the king's agents."

She bowed and you followed

"He sends this to you."

Margo delivered a little paper with a note scribbled on it. Penmanship sloppy and hurried but legible enough.

Meet me at the main hall within an hour.

You frowned upon reading the note and sighed.

"I'll be there. Thanks for your service, Lady Margo."

"Please, just Margo. I'll let him know of your reply right away."

She left, and you groaned inwardly.

Nervous steps guided you through the main halls of the castle. Finally, they stopped a few meters away from what you thought was his office. He was talking to Jessica and then excused himself as soon as he saw you.

Oh dear.

-----

He was before you within a couple of strides, long legs reached your presence, and his forever stoic yet deep eyes settled on you. Breathing felt heavy and stuffy.

"Princesa" his voice held a bit of a gruff. He cleared his throat and pointed the way ahead.

"Walk with me."

It wasn't a suggestion or an order. And still, you followed. His hands clenched and relaxed as He walked with you, matching your pace.

"Is there a specific reason why you have requested my company tonight, My lord?"

He chuckled, glad that you were addressing things without sugarcoating them.

"I want to apologize."

"Whatever for? Prince Gabriel has already apologized. We have... reached a truce regarding that situation."

Miguel glanced at you with curious and soft eyes as you both kept walking through the castle.

"I know you are aware of what our marriage implies, Princesa."

"Of course. Even though my family was the one to orchestrate such union, I’m a firm believer that our kingdoms could mutually benefit from it."

"My thoughts exactly. What are your prospects for Theleria? "

"We might not be the realm we used to be centuries ago, but I believe we have been turning into something better. I don't favor war, and many might see it as a weakness, but as long as there are more options, I won't be afraid to explore them."

"What if war is the only way?"

"Is it truly, though? I know there are times when war is the only way out. And as much as it pains me, it must be seen through. To me, war is the last resource."

"On that, we agree."

Miguel nodded as you stared at him with a curious gaze.

"Contrary to what everyone outside my kingdom's walls believes, I don't engage in war because they're fun. Wars are the result of several failed attempts at dialogue. My last resource."

You smiled softly at his words and he smiled back.

"I must apologize to you, then. My initial judgment has been proven wrong. And I'm glad it did."

"How so?" Miguel inquired as you both walked wherever your feet took you. The soft and sweet scent of the gardens tickled your nose.

"This arranged marriage was quite sudden for both. I know much. You weren't looking for such a thing, neither did I. Yet-"

"Here we are."

Miguel slicked his hair back as Peter's words finally started to sink in.

"I know a kingdom is the most important thing for a good ruler. It is important to you as it is important to me."

You spoke as you faced him.

"My parents might have arranged this, but... It doesn't mean we can't influence the path it takes. As your future... ally"

Your words hesitated, "I want to be seen as more than just a public figure, but someone you can rely on if the chance presents itself."

Miguel's heart thumped with strength at your words. His gaze remained on you a little longer than it should.

" What do you aspire to accomplish in Arachne, Princesa?"

" The same thing I'd want for my future kingdom, My lord. For it to keep striving, improving, and marching towards a better future, where its citizens know they can have the same opportunities they'd get in abroad lands. For them to know that we have their back. Like it should be."

Miguel's hands tingled upon your words. The urge to reach for you and hug you at finally finding someone who understood his reasoning was a bit overwhelming, in a good kind of way. His heart seemed to be pumping in excitement.

"Seems we share a vision."

"Indeed. Our kingdoms' well-being is the thing that brought us here. Would be foolish to think differently."

"I apologize if... I've underestimated your reasoning, Princesa."

You shook your head with a lax smile.

"It's alright, sir. It's only natural to be guarded towards stranger's opinions."

"You're certainly no stranger"

Your brows rose in surprise "Oh?"

Miguel blinked at his own words

"I mean..."

He rubbed his neck softly

"I think allies would be too soon since I've got yet, to prove my worth to you and your scary council. Acquaintances, it's the right term."

You spoke with a soft smile. The kind of smile one would wear when facing an awkward truth.

"Acquaintances, then."

He didn't like that word, as true as it was. It didn't sit right in his head and it had left a bad taste in his mouth.

"I must know though, Princesa. Why would you order Peter to stay behind?"

"Well, poor man needed a break. He's always looking after me."

His jaw clenched softly at the compassionate words for Peter.

"You must understand he can't leave your side, right?"

"I take full responsibility for that, my lord. I know I shouldn't ignore your authority. I'm sorry for that."

The servants ran around the castle, some looked your way with keen eyes, whispering among them as they saw you and Miguel.

"In any case, thanks for listening, my lord. I hope your doubts have been cleared a bit with our conversation. Your company is always enjoyable"

"Certainly."

His mind slapped himself inwardly as you chuckled.

"Then I bid you a goodnight, ser."

You bowed to him and made your way back to your room. He went back to his office.

His mind ran a mile per second with all sort of thoughts.

"Certainly" He groaned in annoyance. He also wanted to say your company was good, but instead, he came out as a self-centered man.

"What's wrong?"

Peter entered his chambers in casual dressings and Miguel glared at him upon remembering the other bits of the conversation.

"You don't need a fucking break. I do."

Peter's brows knitted together in confusion at his sudden words. Your genuine concern for Peter didn't sit right either.

"Then, spend more time doing what you like. Or more time with the princess."

"She said we're acquaintances."

"Which is not far from the truth. Why are you upset?"

"Because you were right. And I hate it when you do."

Peter's smile grew wider "Told you."

"Cállate."

Peter chuckled and sat before him.

"What did you talk about?"

"She told me that she wanted to be a reliable ally. She... understands my vision."

Peter's eyes widened softly as his smile turned into a smirk.

"Seems you did right in approaching"

"Told you to keep your allies closer."

Your sincere words regarding your concerns about the kingdom had his attention fully enraptured into you. The attention that he only put into little selected things. A sort of attention he'd gladly address you again with, just to hear you talk so fervently about your common goals.

"Si si, ya. Vete." (Yeah, yeah. Leave)

"Sleep. Tomorrow's a long day."

He just nodded and watched Peter leave.

Acquaintances were better than strangers. It was a progress, a baby step, but a step closer nonetheless.

-----

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#miguel o’hara x reader #need more #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara x reader #royal au #its so good #screaming

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infectedbride · 9 months

Note

NO BECAUSE THIS IS SO GOOD I'M KICKING MY FEET GIGGLING😭

Lips anon! Dark King Miguel and the gentle princess. The original one except Miguel is the king you dread to marry. Even more so when you meet him. He's a hulking man adorned with obsidian armor laced with gold. Cold piercing red eyes. If you weren't terrified, you would have seen how handsome he was, and that his gaze was filled with intrigue rather than hatred.

He takes your hand in armored claws, and kisses it. Now you blush.

You were to spend a good chunk of time in the palace with him until the day of the wedding. At first it's a nightmare because you are with someone who's slaughtered thousands of men, but he's gentle with you. Not exactly kind. But gentle.

Oh oh, imagine she took a little diary with her. She records her time in his lands, and he finds it while snooping in her room (checking for any weapons and such). He reads it and finds quite a bit about her. He rolls his eyes at the passage of her describing her dream man, but he is very intrigued about her wanting a bunch of children. He can give that to her, he wants many heirs too 🤭

Im such a sucker for these sort of tropes :'D ❤️❤️❤️ (Had to write this twice cause Tumblr erased the draft midway 😭😭)

You fretted in your chambers.

Despite the kingdom's overall economy and exterior political relations were thriving, the feeling of wariness set heavyly on your chest. The Queen and King had forbidden your stay at the most recent council's meeting, and when you demanded an explanation, you were met with nothing but silence and pained looks.

"Your Majesty! Come back here! You can't go inside!"

"They are hiding something from me, Lucille. I know it!"

"But you just can't interrupt!" Your maid and friend had been trying to prevent to get in the throne room. She caught your arm and looked solemn for a moment.

"You... You too?"

She shook her head and sighed, pulling you to a more private spot.

"You must be very quiet, ok?" Lucille guided you through a secret little passageway you didn't know the castle had. Hidden in plain sight that took you exactly where you wanted, a small hole on the wall enough for you too take a glimpse of the room.

Sparse, war table on a side, some guards you couldn't recognize stood next to a chair, partially revealing who sat in it. You could only get a small reveal of his arms. Dark skinned, strong arms clad in obsidian and golden that ended in a claw like gauntlet.

"Your Majesty" Your dad spoke, a slight tremor in his voice, "I think we are rushing into conclusions, ser. You'll see our men-"

"I don't want your men, neither your women. My army is more than enough and if I wished, your kingdom would be wiped out at my command."

You father stressed kn his chair as your mother just watched with keen eyes the display of power.

"We might not be a large kingdom, your majesty-"

"You're right, ser. You're like a tiny and annoying stone that got in my greaves, but I have had enough bloodshed for now"

"T-Then what is it you want, your majesty?"

You frowned at the armored man's attitude as dread crept up your bones. His gauntlet curled on his head, pondering as he slicked his soft, wavy and dark locks back.

"Surprise me, your majesty" He sneered the two last words and you swallowed.

"I will give you the most precious thing I possess, your highness." Your mother spoke confidently as her eyes were casted at the man.

"Being?"

"My daughter. The princess."

Lucille gasped and you quickly covered her mouth. His ears perked at the sound and tensed, but ignored it since he just chuckled.

"I came here in order for you to understand why I need the East passage of your borders open, not to get married." He stood and it was yout time to gasp at the size of him. He looked gigantic, your father had to crane his head up to meet his eyes.

"Think about it, your highness." Your mother pressed as she also stood.

"We can't open the passage due to political differences between our Kingdom and Erunia. It's closing wasn't to meddle in your affairs, but more like a preventive solution in our safety, in case an invasion happened. The least of things we would want is another war against a powerful kingdom we know we have no chance against. "

The obsidian clad man seemed to pay attention to your mother's words

"Sure, our Kingdom is thriving again, and economy and politics seem promising, but you must also understand we have nothing much to offer you when we are still recovering from a war. We still mourn, and we are getting on our feet again."

Your throat tightened upon her mentioning mourn. Your brother, the prince had died in battle.

"And for me to offer you, this kingdom's most precious jewel... I'll leave it to your interpretation."

The man seemed to relax slightly. Political things weren't your strength but, you didn't have to be a genius to know that tension had been rising within the neighbor kingdoms. Yours was a small one that served as a bridge among the others. Without you, the rest would collapse bit by bit.

"I offer you protection, in exchange of your daughter."

Tears welled up in your eyes. They were using you like an object. The deal was sealed, and so was your fate.

------

You had refused to see your parents after that, your mother had explained that it was for the kingdom's best interest.

"But what about me? I know that is selfish to think this way but, this is not what I want."

"It's not about what you want, more like what must be done. Your duty as a princess is to see for the people's interest, my dear. Our wishes matter little when the men think it's funny to play war."

"But mother, how could I possibly marry someone like that? Arachne kingdom is ruthless! And so is it's ruler!"

"We had no choice, my dear. Your brother... Im sure your brother would have chosen to try and wage a war against him to keep our autonomy... There is enough bloodshed as it is for now." She cupped your cheeks and kissed your forehead.

"Besides, he is not that bad. He was... civil and wise enough to hear us. And now, thanks to you we have his protection and a new chance of being the kingdom we used to be."

-----------

You were set to depart to Arachne's kingdom within two weeks, and you made sure to enjoy the last bits of your freedom in your home. The wedding was set within 3 months. Or so the dark scroll the mysterious man had sent, said.

And when that day arrived, your carriage departed between sobs, anguish and heartfelt goodbyes. You didn't like the feeling of being seen as a martyr, but it gave your people hope.

----

If you had to describe Arachne's beauty you'd settle for twisted. A contradiction of many types of beauty melded in a single space. The outskirts were full of thorns so thick you thought your carriage would be crushed before even reaching the castle, but the more your caravan approached, the sceneries changed into something less harrowing to a more utopic sort of settling.

Tall towers stood proud in the different cities, but one thing you couldn't help but notice were the elite guards. Mostly clad in a light armor, red and blue, a spider-skull like emblem on their chest. You weren't allowed to bring Lucille with you, a strange petition from this... Miguel King.

Miguel O'Hara. Ruler of Arachne. Commander of an elite force with abilities that surpassed the common guard forces. Many said it was his secret to get him where he was. Despite the rumors about the kingdom being desolated and hunger stricken, witnessing the opposite with your own eyes made your heart a little hopeful.

After all he had sent a small crew of four to guard you during the trip. A blonde girl with a left side of her head shaven, a tall dark young man with braids on each side of his head slicked back with a look that pierced your soul, Another black man with many perforations in his face, with the strangest hairdo you had seen in someone, and their commander. A tall, black slender woman with a red and obsidian armor. None of you talked during the trip. But the pierced face young man and the blonde girl offered you small, almost sympathetic smiles your way.

----

Your arrival at the castle was announced. Your four escorts guided you to the main hall and kneeled before the man you had only caught a minimal glimpse of. Red eyes regarded your form, clad in a emerald green with golden trims dress.

You could notice his eyes widening just slightly as you entering the room. And then he stood. Your breath was caught in your throat and just as your father, you had to crane your head up to meet his eyes. Captivating yet full of unspeakable things. But you were certain, hatred wasn't one of them, rather wonder. He stared at you with mild curiosity.

You revered before him.

"Princess (Name) of Theleria, at your service, my lord." Sweet and soft spoken. A stark contrast of his overall aura. He noticed the small tremor in your hands and chuckled.

"Welcome, Princesa." Despite his imposing and intimidating looks, his royal etiquette shone through.

"Make yourself at home" Or so it did it's best. He returned to his work. He wasn't much for words as you were escorted to your own chambers. You certainly were swooned by the place grandeur and the elite force you had heard so much.

"Your Majesty sends his apologies, he won't be able to meet you during dinner. Would you like to eat on your chambers, or in the dining hall?" The man wore another red and blue armor, you had noticed that only commanders wore a certain type of armor.

"In my room, ser. Thanks."

He nodded with a smile and left. Your room was enormous, easily mistaken for a whole wing. You had dinner in your room.

--------

"Where is she?"

"In her room. She preferred to eat inside."

"Hm." Miguel hummed as he spreaded some map before him. Peter looking at him.

"Want me to arrange a tea meeting with her?"

Miguel's nose scrunched and he shook his head.

"Make it a lunch. I don't like tea."

"I know, coffee guy. You think her parents will keep their word?"

"They better, if not, we'll wipe them."

"Wouldn't that be harrowing for your future bride?"

Miguel arched an eyebrow at him

"Merely political affairs."

"She's pretty"

"Hm and gentle. You know what happens to gentle people."

"They get an arranged marriage with a ruthless belicist of a king." Peter couldn't help but giggle at his mortified expression.

"One more-"

"And I'm out. I know, I know pal. Get some rest. Your eyebags are packing for vacation already" Peter smiled at his annoyed sigh, then left him be.

-----

The lunch never came, as you were stood up, again. You had expected much, after all it was an arranged marriage, of course the desire of knowing eachother just for pretense was only in your imagination. However you had noticed that his gaze lingered on you for more than he actually let on.

You had been sorted through the city, to meet it's people, and so far mostly looked happy? Children ran around a fountain, merchants exposed and sold their goods, art supplies and a small leathery notebook, caught your attention. The extense array of colors had you grinning and marveling at things you had never seen before. Charcoals, complete drawing kits, turpentine, canvas made out of the richest materials.

Arachne's people were kind, welcoming and it just made you wonder how such kind of people had a blood thirsty man for a king? Not that he intentionally waged wars just for fun and giggles. Peter watched you with a lazy smile, occasionally recommending things to try. He and the blonde girl, whose name happened to be Gwen, we're kind enough to answer each of your questions. You didn't dare to ask about Miguel. He seemed too busy to be disturbed and by the way his face was always set in a permanent frown, made you wonder how would things would be in your wedding day.

He was aloof, too buried in his own world of War and battles. You couldn't help but nod with an absentminded expression at Peter saying he won't be for dinner either.

"Of course." That's all you uttered before you returned to the castle and retreated to your room. Your chest constricting tightly.

-----------

"You know, getting any sort of contact with her wouldn't hurt you." Peter spoke as he was polishing his gauntlets.

Miguel remained silent, eyes too focused on the scroll before him.

"How was the trip?"

"She was like a kid in a candy store when we stopped in an art shop."

"Something she liked?" Peter smiled and scrubbed the wax away from the gauntlet

"Paintings and art supplies. She loved the cherry pie and couldn't stop marveling at how dreamlike the city looked"

"Hm. Her kingdom is... small. Nothing much to look around. Anyways, get her what she liked. "

"Beg your pardon?" Peter blinked at him

"Told you to get her what she liked."

"Of course. "

-----

The following days you were either holed up in your bedroom, or in the gardens making small talk with the servants. They seemed good and easygoing people, and it kept you from giving into the loneliness feeling that seemed to loom over your head with each passing day.

Sometimes you'd caught glimpses of him, a small group of elite soldiers tailing behind him in scary synchronization. Your eyes would meet for seconds, but he'd just look away and continue his work.

At this point you knew what the apologetic look on Peter or Gwen meant. He wasn't showing up.

"I'm sorry."

"Have I done something to... upset him this way? To the point of him maybe finding my company repulsive? "

Peter seized you with a frown.

"I know he is a busy man, wars don't wage on their own, I know much. But..." You shook your head and sighed, "Nevermind that. I'm just being pretentious. Bid you a good evening, ser Peter."

You bowed to him and left to your room. You had refused kindly your dinner.

---------

The next day a couple of guards entered your room as you were writing a letter for your parents. They saluted Peter and left.

"Your Majesty." He bowed and guided your to the medium sized wooden box.

"A gift from the king" Your eyes widened in surprise, your cheeks growing a bit warmer.

"Thank you, ser Peter." You smiled and rummaged through its contents, small squeal upon looking at the leathery notebook you had seen before. Peter left and you wasted no time into enjoying your gift.

Papers, watercolors, oil paints, colored waxes, painting brushes, paint remover, it felt like a dream. Your chest felt giddy at the idea that showed up in your mind.

-----

You gave Peter a small box with something you had done.

"Ser Peter?"

"Yes, your majesty?"

"Could you give this to the King?" You handed him a small velvet pouch. A small canvas in it.

"Do you think he would like it?"

"I'm sure he will, your majesty" Peter smiled.

------------

Miguel took the pouch suspiciously, but his eyes widened at the small painting of himself with a small piece of scroll. A fancy and curvy scribblings on it

Thank you for your kindness, my lord.

Your penmanship impeccable, years of princess etiquette and training reflected on it. his lips curved a bit. You had gotten a good angle of him.

---------

He snuck in your room as you had gone to the city with Peter and Gwen again. This time, the man with the pierced face came along.

He didn't expect it to be so you. Paintings you did, dried on the window, drawings of things that caught your interest the most; cherries, birds, nature, and kids. Not that he didn't trust you, he just wanted to see with his own eyes what you had done so far with his gift.

He was glad to find you hadn't wasted it at all. The leathery book however made him to pick it up. It was your own diary. His hands carefully flipped the pages, reading into his contents.

A drawing of him with the caption "king of Arachne and quite aloof." the latter in small letters. He sighed and flipped the pages.

The bakery man is such a gentleman! And his pies so scrumptious.

He chuckled at the little pie drawing you did. He found more descriptions in what seemed to be this type of ideal man for you. He rolled his eyes. But the last lines of the pages caught his interest the most.

After losing my brother, it has come to my thinking. I would love a big family on my own.

You wanted kids. Heirs.

The steps outside alerted him as he tossed the diary back on your bed, and soon you'd enter through the door. The way your eyes looked at him with surprise made his heart to flutter softly. He had met rivals in the battlefield, all giving him a horrifying look, begged him to not come closer. But never he had someone to look at him like you were.

His eyes softened as he walked over you. Lips pressed together, you bowed.

"My lord."

He bowed too, adding more wide at your surprise.

"Enjoying your gift?".

"Very much. Thank you." His thank you gift came into mind.

"Did you... receive mines?"

"Of course."

"Did you like?"

Sweet face looked at him, expectantly. His pulse quickened.

"Si." He mumbled and you looked at him confused for a second.

"I'll take it as a yes?" You smiled.

So so sweet.

He relaxed.

"I'll see you in the dining hall."

"Oh?"

To your surprise he looked at you as he took your hand and kissed the back of your soft palm.

"Don't be late". He left.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #royal au #loved this so much ♡#need more #arranged marriage #atsv miguel

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infectedbride · 9 months

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Y'ALL THIS FIC IS SO GOOD😫😫😫

* ˚ ✦ AND I LOVE HER, masterlist

·˚ ༘ summary: ellie is your best friend and you love her, but you soon find out that ellie loves your sisters just the same. unsure of how you'll ever get past this, you turn to your best friend for some guidance and support. she offers a little more than you originally expected.

✧˚ · . content warnings: ellie x reader, dina x reader, angst, unrequited love, pining, eventual comfort + more to be added.

˚ · . note: okay i know i started 'the perfect pair' but the urge to write this was too strong and i could literally get nothing done without thinking of it. it's fully plotted out so i just have to write it so it shouldn't take super long and then i'll get back to 'the perfect pair'! i hope you guys enjoy this one <3 don't forget to like/reblog! tag list is open!!!!

¹ and i love her, reader pov

² kick in the eye, reader pov

³ fine line, ellie pov

⁴ tolerate it, reader pov

⁵ everything, everything, reader pov

⁶ about a girl, reader pov

⁷ still into you, reader pov

⁸ heart like yours, reader pov

⁹ welcome and goodbye, reader pov

¹⁰ falling for you, reader pov END.

#and i love her. ⚢#ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie fanfic #ellie williams fanfic #ellie x fem reader #dina x reader #dina woodward x reader #dina woodward #dina tlou #dina the last of us #tlou ellie #ellie angst #ellie williams angst #ellie williams x you #phantombriide. ✞#tlou2 ellie

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infectedbride · 10 months

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Y'all this is so good I'M🤭🤭

Ghostly Night (ghostface!Ellie x reader)

Chapter 1

Summary: going on a Halloween party and meeting someone with a Ghostface mask couldn't go that wrong, could it now?

Warnings: suggestive language, flirting, reader is a simp (but aren't we all...), smut, mean!ellie, dom!ellie, sub!reader, fingering (r!receiving), bondage, degrading kink, praising kink, knife play, cursing, reader has a stalker, men, blood, murder.

Word count: 7k

A/N: Before you read this, it's better if you have seen at least the first Scream movie for a better understanding of the dialogues. Also! Reblogs, comments and likes are very much appreciated! Hope you like it!! If you don't, please be nice about it at least. <3

As you walked through the mass of people dancing, you tried to ignore the weird stares they gave you while you brushed past them, murmuring an "excuse me" every now and then so they won't think you are an asshole, even if they totally were. You didn't really understand why you received such looks for not having a costume, since most of the ones here were just very lazy. There was a guy only wearing a cowboy hat and called himself a cowboy. Nobody really put an effort for this Halloween party, so they didn't really have the right to look at you like that.

You didn't even see the point of dressing up, because you weren't going to stay for long, only being here to hang out with Dina and Jesse a bit before going back home for the weekend. You missed your parents, since this semester you barely managed to go home, but you also wanted to see your friends before leaving.

You found your friends, chatted for a bit and after a half an hour, you decided to go home to prepare for tomorrow, since you had to leave early in the morning, but your plans failed because when you were about to exit the house, a drunk girl accidentally bumped into you and spilled her drink all over your shirt. After many apologies coming from her, you parted, assuring her it was okay— which wasn't really the truth, but starting a fight with her in that state would lead you nowhere.

After you came back to your friends, telling them what happened, Jesse was kind enough to lend you his jacket to cover yourself until you managed to go clean yourself a bit. Promising you would be back soon, you got out of the living-room and made your way out of the crowdred room, down the hallway to find the bathroom. As you approached it, you scoffed because there was quite a queque and you had to wait a little more until you could clean the mess off your shirt.

Sighing, you stepped closer, placing yourself behind the person in front of you and leaning your back against the wall. You closed your eyes a bit, the tiredness washing over you as you stood there in the dim lights of the hallway. The lights coming from the living-room were the only ones illuminating the narrow space since the lightswitch seemed to not be working for this area.

You hoped the wait won't last too long since you had to go home early in order to catch your ride and also because you started to get sleepy from the dull atmosphere. Just now you realized how everything seemed quieter than before. The music that blasted in your ears and almost made you go deaf while you stood in the main room was no longer bothering you and became a faint noise in background, combined with the quiet murmurs of the people next to you.

As each second passed, you felt your eyes getting tired and slowly closing, until your vision was invaded by complete darkness. You were still aware of your surroundings, but you were too lazy to open your eyes again, thinking that staying like that for a bit won't hurt anybody.

As you held your position against the wall, your head suddenly slid to the side. Instead of being welcomed by nothing but thin air, your right cheek harshly bumped against something or from what it seemed it was more like someone. You frowned at the contact, because you were sure no one was there a second ago and your eyes quickly shoot open upon realizing you weren't alone anymore. When your gaze finally landed on the person next to you, you felt you breath hitching and your heart beating faster than ever. You parted your lips, being about to let out a scream from the sudden shock, but the unknown person caught on your plan and rapidly moved their hand over your mouth in order to muffle your upcoming screams, not wanting to draw any attention towards you two.

You eyes widen at their gesture, fear starting to overcome you as you study the unknown person. The stranger was taller than you, dressed in the black hooded robe that shined when light landed on certain areas, just like the original costume. They were also wearing the classic Ghostface mask, which covered their face completely. The mask didn't seem new at all. On the contrary, it looked rusty and had cracks on its greyish surface, as if it was a very old one.

After a few seconds in which you slowly came down from the shock, the stranger moved their hand away from your face. You quickly placed a hand over your chest, feeling your heart beat finally regain its normal pace as you let out a deep exhale.

“Oh my God, you scared me to death” you talked on a breathy voice, making the stranger beside you chuckle and shake their head because of your reaction.

“Well, that's a great costume. You could have fooled me, not gonna lie” you added, in an attempt to change the subject and make the stranger forget how you almost made a scene because of their choice of clothing for the Halloween party. Now that fear got out of the way, you realized how you just embarrased yourself in less then five seconds.

“Thank you, I really wanted to make it as real as in the movies” the person finally talked, taking you once again by surpise. Your eyebrows rose slighlty as you listened to their familiar voice as they spoke— the iconic voice of Ghostface.

“No fucking way! You even have the same voice” you laughed, not believing what you hear. You have met many people trying to impresionate Ghostface, but their costumes weren't even half as good as this one. The person behind the mask thought about every detail, from the mask to the voice.

“Yeah, the costume would have been incomplete otherwise.” the person replied, making you nod.

“Did you put the voice changer inside the mask?” you questioned while studying it.

“Bingo. Isn't it cool? The last Scream movie did this thing so how about I do it too?”

“Was that your favorite Scream movie?” you further asked.

“Huh, tough question” they joked and stood in silence for a few moments to think. “But yeah. They get better and better with each year.” they replied while shrugging. “What about you?”

“Well... all the movies are good but— but the first Scream movie really stuck with me, y'know?”

“Let me guess, is it because of Billy Loomis?” the stranger joked, making you laugh and shake your head.

“I mean, he's hot and all, but if I'm being honest, I prefer Stu Macher. I feel like Matthew Lillard did a better job in portraying a true psychopath, from the mannerisms to his expressions and his ways of deliverying the lines.”

“My bad then” the stranger joked. “Is this the only reason?”

“No, I actually like it because it shows how everything started, how this whole mania with Ghostface appeared” you answered.

“I get it. That's a good reason” they nodded and then the stranger's head tilted to the side, eyes going down on your body behind the mask. “So who are you supposed to be this Halloween?” they questioned while gesturing towards your lack of costume, making you giggle.

“I could be your victim, you know” you replied on a playful tone, winking at the stranger.

“I don't kill pretty girls” the person flirted back, making you smile.

“Then what do you do to them?” you pushed, leaning a bit forward.

“I make them scream.” the stranger said after a few moments of silence, as they raised their gloved hand and reached for the mask, lifting it up and finally allowing you to see who was hiding behind it.

You remained quiet for a few seconds, thoroughly taking in the person's looks. In front of you was a girl, a very pretty one you might add. The first thing you noticed were the infinite freckles that covered her face, making her look absolutely adorable, which was ironic since her choice of costume. You then saw the slit on her eyebrow that looked so out of place when put beside her soft features and the short brownish hair that fitted her so well. Your attention then fell back to her eyes and oh, God, you could lose yourself in them. You knew it sounded like a cliché, but she had the most grogeous eyes you have ever seen. She didn't look like you imagined, no- she was even better. You found yourself shamelessly staring at her for quite some time, parting your lips in awe.

“Wow” was all you could say, making her chuckle at your reaction.

“I knew I looked good, but you make me feel like I'm a fucking goddess or something” the freckled girl joked, causing you to blush at her words, or more like her voice which was deep and raspy. You quickly moved your eyes from her as she put her mask back on to hide her the reddness of her own cheeks. She didn't expect you to be so impressed by her looks, but she felt even more confident after she saw your reaction.

“Do you have a name?” you asked shyly, changing the subject once again.

“Yes, why?” she replied with a question.

“I wanna know who I'm looking at” you winked at her in a playful manner, making her chuckle.

“Name's Ellie” Ellie replied while leaning on the wall next to her, looking down at you. “Should I ask your name or can I simply call you my girl?” she joked.

Right before you were about to answer her question, your eyes caught the figure of a very familiar face that entered the hallway and stopped a few feet away from you and Ellie. Your smile instantly dropped as you looked behind Ellie, a frown forming on your face. Your light-hearted attitude was no longer to be seen.

“Sorry, did I make you unconfortable with what I said?” she asked upon realizing your change of attitude and how tensed you had become.

You quickly moved your gaze back to her, shaking your head in disapproval. Ellie could be the last person to make you unconfortable when he was there.

“No, fuck. I'm sorry. I... I just saw someone I hoped I wouldn’t see tonight.” you sighed, closing your eyes for a bit in order to calm down. As you opened them and looked again in his direction, you saw him approach you two, because of course he couldn't just mind his own fucking business. It would have been impossible for him not to ruin another night.

“Hey beautiful” Jonas greeted, making you clench your fists into balls due to the anger that took over your body upon hearing his annoying voice. The arrogant way he spoke to you and the disgusting way he eyed you caused your stomach to twist.

Ellie also turned to him, frowning as well behind her mask. He was as tall as her and also seemed tipsy which was making things even easier.

“Not going to talk to me?” the blonde boy laughed in your face after realizing you were treating him with silence. “Don't anger me” he added on a more assertive tone, making you frown. Fucking asshole.

“She will talk when she wants to” Ellie replied before you could say anything, and your eyes shot up at her then at Jonas, who seemed baffled because of her sudden intrusion, but you couldn't be more thankful.

“Yeah, we'll see about that. I always get things my way” he chuckled after a few moments, quickly regaining his cool. He then waved at you and went in the opposite direction, allowing you to breath normally again.

“Is that your ex or something?” Ellie asked while turning to you.

“God, no!” you quickly denied it. Just the thought of it made you throw up. “He used to have a crush on me in the first year of college and things got out of hand when I refused to give him a chance. Since then, he kept harrasing me every chance he gets.” you explained further, sighing.

“Did you go to the police?”

“That won't change anything because his father is a cop and even if I went there, I wouldn’t have enough evidence against him.” you replied, biting your lip.

“Let's forget about him tonight, hm?” Ellie suggests, making you nod in approval.

“Yeah, I would like that.” you smiled at her. “Wanna go upstairs?” you asked with a shy smile, gaining a giggle from Ellie.

“Great idea.”

“But first I need to clean my shirt” you informed her as you looked around you, realizing you were the next person in line.

“Yeah, sure, go ahead” Ellie replied while she suddenly bent forward, until she was a few inches away from your face. She lifted her mask with one hand and her other hand moved to your back, lowering it a bit until it was just right above your ass, slightly touching you. She then moved closer to your face, leaning to the side until her plump lips brushed against your ear.

“I will wait for you” Ellie spoke on a low, raspy voice, sending shivers down your spine and causing your heart to beat faster due to the close porximity. You didn't explect her to make a move like that on you, taking you by surpise once again tonight.

She then patted the pocket of your jeans and returned to her initial position, not before putting her mask back on.

“Y-yeah, I will.... Ugh, I will be back very soon” you assured her, trying to calm yourself down, but failing miserably. You quickly turned around in order to hide your flustered state, stepping closer to the white door and reaching for the doorknob. You quickly twisted it and opened the door, closing it behind you with the speed of light. You glued your back to the wooden surface and tried regulating your breath.

What the fuck? She was so fucking close. So fucking close you could feel her cologne intoxicating you and warmth radiating from her body. Good Lord, you couldn't believe you even got a chance to talk to her. You really needed to make yourself more presentable since you didn't bother to even put on make up, thinking you will stay just a bit.

After you calmed down, you quickly went to the mirror, starting to rearrange your hair by sliding your fingers through it to make it more appealing. You then removed Jesse's jacket and scrunched your nose at the sight: the stain looked even worse than you remembered and it also extended all over your chest area. There was no way you could clean and dry it a short amount of time so you just took off Jesse's jacket and then your destroyed shirt, throwing it in the trash. Then you reached for some toilet paper in order to clean your sticky skin, wiping the liquid away.

After you were done with cleaning yourself, you reached for Jesse's jacket and put it back on, zipping it up so you won't ruin the suprise for Ellie. You really wanted to see her face once she undresses you and realizes you are only wearing a bra on you upper body. You weren't going to need your shirt for what you two were about to do.

You looked in the mirror once again and then headed for the door. You opened and stepped outside. You smiled as you saw Ellie right where you left her, standing with her arms crossed over her chest and leaning against the wall. You closed the bathroom door and quickly walked towards her.

“We can go up now” you told her, ganing a nod from you.

“Oh, by the way, you dropped your phone while you were leaving for the bathroom.” she informed you as she reached for something in the pocket of her jeans, then handed it to you.

“I... that's weird, I didn't even realize I dropped it.” you replied confused as you studied the phone to see if there were cracks on the screen, but it seemed completely fine.

“Don't know, I just saw it on the ground after you left. I almost stepped on it” she shrugges, as she reches her hand out for you. “Ready to go?” Ellie asks, changing the subject.

You turn your attention towards her, smiling as you place you phone back in your pocket. You took her hand and let her guide you to the stairs that led to the rooms on the first floor. As you walked behind her due to the limited space the stairs were offering, your gaze landed on Ellie's shoes that slipped out of her robe as she climbed each stair. You frowned a bit, squinting at them because of weird substance that seemed to be splattered on her soles and on the back of the converse. You managed to make out a dark shade of red, which remined you very much of actual blood. But it couldn't be actual blood, could it now?

“Did you kill someone while I was in the bathroom?” you jokingly asked, the words leaving your mouth before you could grasp what you were doing.

Your question caused Ellie to suddenly stop, her foot that was about to land on the next stair being planted back on the ground next to the other, not climbing anymore. For a few moments, she stayed with her back turned to you, not moving, not talking, not even breathing or so it seemed. Her reaction made you to feel a bit uneasy, since you asked that in order to make her laugh, not to turn the situation in something serious that gave you the chills.

“What if I did?” she replied with a question.

Your eyes slowly widened as you suddenly stepped back on the stairs, pulling your hand away from her grasp. You wanted to put some kind of distance between you two so you could... run if things went south. It couldn't be possible... You were in the bathroom like 6 minutes or so, she couldn't do much in such short amount of time, could she? No, she was playing with you to see your reaction. Ellie couldn't kill someone. But why were you so sure she couldn't? You barely knew her and you were only trying to defend her because she was hot.

“Oh my God, I'm fucking with you” Ellie laughed after you didn't give her an answer, but seemed to belive her silly question. “I swear I didn't kill somebody. It's just red paint. I really wanted to make my converse look bloody so I used some.” she added as she took off her mask so you could see her face and figure out she was genuine with her answer. She had a very amused expression, probably because you've become so scared from just a simple joke.

“Oh, God” you sighed in relief, realizing how stupid your behavoir was. Only because someone chose a ghostface costume, it didn't mean they also killed someone. “Sorry, I- I don't know what has gotten into me.” you spoke, feeling your cheeks heat up from how silly you were acting.

“No worries babe, but...” she paused after a few seconds and stepped towards you, until her figure hoovered over you. Her gloved hand rose and placed itself on your lips, her thumb brushing over your lower lip.

“...you'll have to make up to me somehow. Can you do that for me?” Ellie asked on a playful tone, making you nod instantly.

“Anything you want” you breathed out, looking into her eyes, then at her lips, then back at her eyes.

“Careful now, those are powerful words” the girl smirked in satisfaction as she stared down at you, but you didn't held back on your statement.

“Anything. You. Want” you spoke again, emphasizing every word and making her smirk widen.

“Hope you can handle it then” was all Ellie said before she took your hand and dragged you into one of the empty rooms on the first floor. She locked the door after you entered and then pushed you against it, caging you. She reached for her mask and threw her it on the floor and then she smashed her lips against yours. Her hands began roaming all over your body, brushing over your clothed chest and lowering towards the curve of your ass, grabbing it harshly and making you gasp.

Ellie licked your bottom lip before moving her tongue past your lips and interwining it with yours. You tried your best to keep up with the messy way in which she kissed you, spit starting to cover your chin. You moaned loudly as you placed your arms around her neck, dragging her closer to you until your chests met.

“Ellie” you let out a breathy moan when she detached her lips from yours, allowing you both to take deep breaths. “I want you so bad-” you tried speaking again, but she moved her hand up and covered your mouth.

“You talk too much, don't you think?” she asked you on an annoyed tone, her playful attitude from earlier suddenly dissappearing. You gulped at her words, feeling small under her intense gaze.

“How about you use that mouth for something better, hmm?” she suggested as she lowered her hand from your mouth and cupped your jaw. Instead of talking, you slowly nodded you hear, not wanting to upset her with your neediness anymore.

“Good girl” she praised as she moved her hand away from your face and then turned around and started walking towards the bed. You saw her sit down and spread her legs in order to make you some space between them. She then prompted herself on one arm and the other rested lazily on her thigh. She tilted her head to the side and frowned as she saw you not moving.

“Want me to tell you every fucking thing you have to do?” she scoffed and you blushed because of how stupid you acted. You quickly move closer to her, getting on your knees between her legs and looking up to her through your lashes.

“Sorry” you muttered, causing Ellie to shake her head.

“Take off your jacket” she commeded, ignoring your apology. After hearing her request you never complied so fast ever in your life. Your fingers rapidly dragged down the zipper of Jesse's jacket and then let it slide over your shoulders, exposing yourself to her.

She seemed to be taken aback when she saw you only had your bra on. She expected there to be a shirt, but she didn't complain at all. Time saved.

“Nice suprise” Ellie said as she stared at your chest, making you squirm because of how intimidating she seemed now when she hoovered over you. You felt so small in comparison to her. You see her lift her gloved hand up and bring it to her mouth, catching the material with her teeth before pulling it off of her hand.

You bit your bottom lip as you look at her long slender fingers and her veiny hand that made you clench around nothing. You couldn't stop imagining how they will feel inside you. Just the thought made your underwear wet, so wet that it began to stick to your folds. Oh God.

Ellie threw away her glove somewhere to the side before coming down to palm one of your breasts, squizzing it through the cup of your bra. You whimpered as you felt her rough touch against you soft skin. She continued to fondle your breast, pushing her thumb under the material in order to feel you better.

“Can I take it off?” she asked you in a mocking way, since the answer was so fucking obvious, but she really wanted to hear you beg for it.

“Yes, yes please” you nodded your head and closed you eyes to the feeling. A sigh left your mouth as she took her hand off your breast and slid it over your ribcage to your back, but before she could reach far enough to unclasp your bra, she suddenly stopped.

“What is it?” you asked confused.

Ellie didn't answer you right away. Instead, she moved her hand under her robe, rising it slightly and stuffing her hand in the back pocket of her jeans. She then took out a wierd looking thing that you soon found out it was a retractable blade once the sharp metal popped out.

Your eyes widened as you watched her move it closer to your body. Your breath hitched once you felt the tip of the knife slightly touching your abdomen. It started with a bearable amount of pain, until she pressed it a bit harder against your skin, making you squeal at the new sensation. Ellie slowly dragged it up, leaving thin white scratches behind as she lazily reached the front of your bra. She then hooked the blade under the waistband of your bra and you suddenly hear something ripping. As you look down, you see how she made a cut in the material right between your breasts, completely destroying it.

“Off.” she commeded on a cold tone, motioning with her knife towards your bra.

You gulped as you raised your hands and placed them on the straps of your bra, slowly letting them down, finally allowing her to see your chest. The cold air hit your chest, making your nipples harden. You glanced at her with a worried look, shifting on the floor because of your nervousness kicking in, making your tits jiggle a bit from the movement, everything under Ellie's hungry gaze.

“Fuck” Ellie cursed under her breath. She didn't even seem blink once since you took off your bra, which gave you a small confidance boost since you haven't been intimate with someone in so long and everything was a bit weird.

“Hands to your back.” she spoke on the same tone, making you comply again to her demand. You crossed your arms in an X behind your back, as if you were tied up. You then see her put the knife down on the bed and bring her hands again under the black robe, hearing her belt clicking. She took it out the loops of her pants and then placed her robe over her jeans.

“Are- Are you gonna tie me up?” you asked a bit panicked as you watched her hold the belt in her hands.

“You said you can handle anything, didn't you?” Ellie repeated your words, making you gulp. That promise was before you knew she carried a fucking knife with her.

“Y-Yes, but-” you spoke again, trying to come up with an excuse that wouldn't make you look like a coward, but your lips remained parted, not a single word leaving them.

“You won't be needing your hands anyway.” she assured you as she sat up from the bed. She came behind you and she kneeled down. You felt the leather of her belt wrapping tightly around your wrists, holding them together in one place, making sure you won't be able to touch her. You felt Ellie leaning over your shoulder, her chest glued to your back, her lips touching your ear.

“Now bend over on the bed.” she ordered in a low voice, making you squirm in anticipation. Everything about her turned you on so bad.

You nodded silently and dragged your knees across the wooden floor in order to reach the edge of the bed. You then stood up and bend over on the mattress, your tits making contact with the smooth sheets and a part of your lower body was in the air, your knees dangling free as you used your toes to keep your balance.

Ellie stood up as well and came behind you, feeling her legs against the back of your thighs. You wanted so much to see her expression, but in this position, with your cheek squished on the bed, it was kind of hard to.

“Unconfortable?” she asked as she leaned over you. One of her arms came near your head, supporting herself on it, while the other that was free from her glove reached the waistband on your jeans.

“Yes” you spoke, breath hitched.

“Good.” she gave you a mean smile, one you couldn't really see.

Her hand moved underneath your body, reaching the button of your pants and opening it, along with the zip. She then dragged the material of your jeans down your legs, revealing your ass and underwear. She gave your ass a harsh smack and then grabbed the skin there, making you hiss in pain.

Her fingers grazed on your skin, stopping at the line of your panties, pulling them down and exposing you completely in front of her. Her fingers moved to your core as she leaned closer to your body, until her chest was was pressed again to your back.

You gasped when you felt her fingers parting your folds. Her thumb found your clit and started moving it in circular motions as her index and middle fingers positioned at your wet entrance, teasing it.

“You are so ready for me” she spoke on an amused voice, making you moan when she finally slid them in and slowly slid them out. She kept going on a lower and excruciating pace, one that drove you crazy. You wanted her to go faster and deeper, to make you loose any logical thinking you were capable of.

“Faster, please” you whimpered, trying to move your hips backward so that you will meet her fingers.

“Here I was going easy on you since we have the whole night to hand” Ellie softly chuckled in your ear. “But since you want it so bad...” she added, her sentence fading.

Ellie increased her pace all of a sudden, moving her fingers in and out of your cunt in a more rushed, sloppy, manner. She was hitting deeper and deeper until she reached that sweet spot that made your toes curl and your eyes roll back. You gasped loudly as you bucked your hips into her slender fingers, wanting to feel her even deeper inside you, if that was possible. Wet noises were echoing through the room, along with your loud moans and Ellie's grunts each time she pulled in and out of your hole.

Her fingers were now covered in your slick that was dripping all over the floor and going down on her wrist. It was almost embarrasing how easily she could slip in her fingers in and out of you. In order to add more pleasure, she added a third finger into your cunt, making you cry out to the new feeling, completely filling you up. You were now a babbling mess underneath her, chanting her name and whimpering everytime she hit that spot that made you see stars.

“Ah! Ellie! I-I'm...” you moaned, stopping mid sentence as you feel her fingers curl inside you and a familiar knot started forming in your stomach.

Your mouth opened wide and your eyes closed when you felt your orgasm washing over you in such short amount of time. If your weren't so fucked out you would be embarrased, but you couldn't think about something like that right now. All you could think of was the way she was fucking you through your orgasm and the way her fingers felt so good inside you, stuffing you to the brim.

“Fuck, baby, you made such a mess” she chuckled as she pulled out her soaked fingers, looking how they shined with your slick. All her hand was now covered in it and she couldn't stop herself but bring her hand to her mouth to lick your juices off her fingers with her tongue, feeling how sweet you tasted.

Your breaths were still irregular as you were coming down from your orgasm and your mind wasn't fuctioning very well since you haven't had an orgasm in so long and this was just what you needed.

“I think you have a few more in you” Ellie spoke behind you as she moved her fingers back to your cunt.

“Can I see your face? P-please?” you asked on whiny voice, causing Ellie to roll her eyes at your neediness.

“You are such a handful” she replied, but still complied to your request. Ellie placed both her hands on your hips and flipped you over on the mattress, helping you move a bit back until your ass wasn't haning on the edge of the mattress anymore.

Her brownish short hair was a bit disheveled and some strands were sticking to her forehead because of the sweat. Her features were sharp and serious, her cheeks flushed. Her playful smile was no longer on her full lips, but her eyes had this intense and full of lust gaze she gave you downstairs, conforting you in some way.

“Better?” she raised and eyebrow. You nodded happily, finally seeing her properly.

“Wanna make things interesting?” she asked you, leaning over your naked figure, biting her lips.

“How?” you frowned slightly as you studied her.

Ellie moved one of her hands on the bedsheets and grabbed her kinfe, regaining her initial position between your legs.

“How about... I fuck your brains out while you beg me for your meaningless life. Does that sound good, pretty girl?” she smirked as she drew the blade closer to your skin, pressing it down your stomach, causing you to squirm under her.

“You want it?” she asked, while moving the blade up, reaching the valley of your breasts. You bit your lower lip at the feeling. Her idea scared you and turned you on at the same time. The thought of a stranger fucking you with a knife pressed on your skin was more alluring then it should be.

“Yes.” you replied.

“Say it.”

“I- I want you to fuck me while I beg you for my life” you repeated her words, ganing a pleased smirk from the freckled girl above you.

“It's one thing to want it but another to admit it. You are such a filthy whore.” she laughed as she drew her free hand to your cunt, her fingertips grazing against your wet entrace and making you whimper because of the sensitivity of your previous orgasm.

Her other hand which held the knife dragged it along your smooth skin until it reached your neck. Your breath hitched as you felt the cold metal pressed harshly against your pulse. Your heart started beating faster, your chest raising up and down at an irregular pace. Your pussy throbbed at the feeling, only a slip of her hand and she could cut your throat. And that didn't even scare you at all, on the contrary, it turned you on even more.

“Ellie, please fuck me” you begged her, tears forming into your eyes due to the frustration she sparked in you. You wanted to feel her fingers fill you up again, but she kept still, not moving an inch.

“Why should I, huh? I can just kill you here and no one will fucking care since you are just a filthy slut” she chuckled, giving you a mocking smile after as she placed her thumb to your throbbing clit, moving it in circles and making you gasp. “Why should I waste my fucking time on you?”

“Please, don't kill m- Ah!” you moaned as you feel her fingertips graze your wet entrance once again. “U-use me whatever you like, I will be so good to you! I promise” you cried out, making her laugh.

“Are you telling this shit to everyone? Letting everyone use you how they like?” she asked as she slowly pushed one finger inside you.

“O-Only you! I haven't had- someone in so-so long! I swear!” you spoke on a broken voice, feeling the need to buck your hips forward, but the knife she was holding against your neck kept you in place, not wanting to fucking die tonight.

“You better not be lying to me” Ellie treathened you as she started moving her finger inside you, feeling your walls clench around it.

“I swear! Please! Oh God-” you cried out when she decided to add a second one, pumping them in and out of you at a slightly faster pace, making your head spin.

“I guess you are- fuck- telling the truth since you are acting like such a needy whore” she smirked as she pushed a third one inside your cunt, staring at how your whole body convulsed under her and your mouth opened wide from the pleasure she was giving you, moaning loudly when she started thrusting them deeper and harder. Ellie parted her lips, copying your gasps and moans in a mocking way, but this only turned you on even more, clenching once again around her fingers.

Your tits started to bounce up and down from Ellie's rushed movements, causing her to stare at the plump flesh with hungry eyes as she dragged the knife down, leaving your neck and coming close to one of your breasts.

“You have such pretty tits” she grunted as she pushed deeper inside your, causing you to throw your head back and scream her name.

She pressed the blade down one of your nipples, the cold metal making you gasp for air as she then started to circle your sensitive nipple with the tip of the blade. This caused ypu to cry in pain, gaining a frown from Ellie.

“Oh, shut the fuck up. You fucking like it, don't you?” she asked as she withdrew the blade and threw it somewhere in room. Her free hand went and cupped your jaw, forcing you to hold eye contact with her. She stared into your red glossy eyes as she thrusted her fingers further into your core.

“I like it! I do!” you replied, nodding incontrolablly and making Ellie smirk.

She then moved her hand to the mattress, stopping near your shoulder in order to to support herself as she leaned closer to your bouncy breasts, taking a mouthful of one of your breasts between her lips. She started sucking harshly on it, her teeth grazing over your senstive bud, then her tongue coming to swirl around it to soothe the pain. She then let go of your breast, moving to give the same treatment to the other one, finally bringing you to the edge.

Your second orgasm washed over your, this time making a bigger mess, squirting all over her fingers. Your head was spinning, your heart was pounding so loud and your breath was ragged as if you ran 20 miles. Ellie was also becoming a bit more tired now, but was still more energetic than you.

“Don't tell me that's all you can give me, baby” she laughed at your weak state as she started to undress herself. She pulled her black robe over her head and threw it on the floor, revealing her clothes. She had a plaid flannel shirt on her that was rolled up to her forearms, revealing her tattoo on one of them. She also had a bracelet on one of her hands, but you couldn't really make out the symbol on it, because of your blurry vision.

Ellie's hand moved to your face, turning you towards her.

“Gonna give me more, baby?” she asked you as she leaned closer, feeling her warm breath all over your skin.

“Yes, Ellie! I will!” you assured her, ganing a pleased smile from her.

“Good girl.”

The morning quickly came by and found you still in one of the rooms of Jesse's house, completely alone. Your eyes opened because of the insufferable light that came through the window. You groaned loudly as you tried turning away from the window, but when you were about to move, your eyes shot open wide, a sudden pain taking over your entire body.

You let out hisses and whimpers as you started to remember the events of the previous night, realizing where the pain came from. Your whole body ached in all the places, feeling like someone beat you all night, when in reality this was far from the truth. Ellie wasn't very gentle last night, but she must have felt the same pain as you since you also left some scratches and bites all over her. If only you could have seen her proper...

You began taking deep breaths as you slowly moved on the mattress, bed creacking loudly under your weight. Using your hands to grip the sheets, you dragged your body on the opposite side of the bed in order to reach for your phone. As you came closer to the edge, you bend over the bed, streching out your arm to grab your phone that was peaking out through the pocket of your jeans.

There was also a note that fell from the pocket when you took out your phone. You reached for it, quickly turning the paper around and realizing there was a phone number scribbled in a messy way on the thin surface. So nice of her to at aleast leave her number after she fucked your brains out and left before you woke up. Such a gentlewoman.

You smiled at the note before you slowly moved back on the bed in a more comfortable position. You turned your attention towards your phone and squinted as you opened your screen, realizing it was 10 am in the morning. There goes your plan on leaving early in the morning.... You don't remember at what hour you end Ellie came upstairs, but you knew you didn't get much sleep last night and you'll surely won't be capable of doing much today.

Sighing, you entered the menu of your phone and went straight towards the message app, after seeing the amount of notifications that came from there. The loads of messages were from your friends who were probably worrying about your sudden dissappearence, but as soon as you will explain to them what happend, they will surely understand.

You quickly went to the messages Dina and Jesse left you, ready to expect some scolding from them.

As you read and re-read each of the messages they sent you, you were left in a complete shock, both from the news you heard and also because of Jesse's sudden warning regarding your trust in Dina, all of it leaving you with one big unanswered question: What the fuck happend last night?

Taglist: @sarahsmileslikesarahd0esntcare @iamtootiredtopost @ellabsprincess @xreals @elliespookie @briacreations96 @syrenada @ximtiredx @mousymaven @jokerpokimoon @elliesfavgf @st4rcandysworld @machetegirl109 @spaceshipellie @pick-me-up-im-scared @elliesbelle @rolly-pollie @ellieswrldd @dinoastronaut @constellieationn @destielcore @ellieswifee @elysiagyaru @iheartdilfsonly @rxflen @sweetbread-m @lov3venus

#ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #the last of us #ellie williams x female reader #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #modern au #ellie x fem reader #ghostface x you #ghostface!ellie #wlw story #ghostface!ellie x reader #ellie williams x fem reader #ellie williams fanfic #tlou2 #tlou fandom #ellie x you #ellie williams x reader

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infectedbride · 10 months

Note

request for miguel - he gets hurt somehow, maybe out on a mission or something, and spider-girl takes care of him and patches him back up, definitely puts a cute plaster on him which he hates but he loves her so he lets it slide :) <33 everyone makes fun of him for it

also hi ily hope you're having/had a fantastic day

thank you for your request!! grumpy lovesick miguel x sunshine spidergirl!reader

"And the salt builds up around their ankles," you're saying, sitting on Miguel's thigh, a bandaid in your shaking hands, "and the chick's feet get so heavy they can't keep up."

Miguel knows this already, he'd listened to you talk about flamingos for days after you watched that nature documentary, but he lets you tell him again for the very same reason he has you sitting on his thigh in front of everyone, and the same reason he doesn't care that the bandaid you're putting on his cheek has a smiley face in the middle. He scared you today, getting hurt. Even as his quickened regenerative abilities close his wounds and heal his contusions, he can feel you trembling in his lap.

He'd been out with the elite strike team, Spider-Woman on one side of him and Spider-Girl (not you) on the other. Jessica's more than capable of holding her own, and so together Miguel figured he'd been in neither danger nor trouble. But trouble doesn't always present itself as such, and the anomaly they'd been handling had turned out to be three anomalies. It's never happened before, and the shock startled him into bad decisions.

The cut on his cheek was wide, but it's nearly healed now. He barely felt it.

What he did feel was your gasp, like you'd been cut yourself, like he had the knife in his hand when you saw it. He supposes you've never witnessed him hurt before, and you're not as untouchable as you seem; you were worse than scared.

"Did you get it?" he asks.

You smooth your thumb along the edges of his bandaid carefully. "Got it. You'll be okay, don't worry."

You hide your own worry with his. He feeds into it. "Are you sure? What about the one on my arm, you haven't touched that one."

The one on his arm has been wrapped in gauze and bandages. You bring his arm to your chest, careful not to touch his wound. "Does it hurt?" you ask, your lashes twitching with the intensity of your concern.

"No, cariño," he says quietly, for your ears only.

"Get a room," Lyla pleads. For hers, too, it seems.

"Sorry," you say, trying to stand. Miguel strong arms you into staying on his thigh, arm like a seatbelt at your waist. "Miguel."

"You haven't finished," he insists.

"You look finished to me," Lyla says. "Or did you want another bandaid for the owy over your heart?"

He grits his teeth. He doesn't want another bandaid, he didn't want the first, but he wants you to be happy. If putting a giant pink heart-shaped plaster on his cheek is going to make you feel better, that's what has to be done. Miguel purses his lips to one side until he feels the adhesive of the bandaid pull away from his skin, and waits in the ridicule of his teammates for you to notice.

"Oh," you say, fingers poking at the peeled bandaid unhappily. "Sorry, I'm sorry, let me–" You pull the bandaid off achingly slowly. "I only have hearts left, I–"

"Just put it on," he says, with a feigned reluctance. His devious plan works, and you set a heart plaster over his cut. It's not big enough. You add a second.

"That is hilarious," Lyla says, her mink coat falling down her arm as she twists in the air and holds up a dramatically large cell phone. "Say cheese."

Miguel looks at you. You throw up a peace sign. The photo is proof of his indulgence in you, if nothing else. He doesn't care how ridiculous he might look on screen, you've finally stopped shaking.

He squeezes the fat of your hip in his hand and sighs. What a fool, he thinks. He's not talking about you.

#miguel and spidergirl reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara fanfic #miguel o’hara drabble #miguel o’hara scenario #miguel o’hara blurb #miguel o’hara oneshot #spider-man: across the spider-verse #spider-man: across the spider-verse spoilers #spider-man: across the spider-verse fanfiction

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infectedbride · 10 months

Text

the hard way. [masterlist]

PAIRING: rockstar!ellie williams x ex-gf!reader

SUMMARY: you and ellie broke things off years ago, everyone knew this. what they didn't know was why. when a mysterious anonymous account pops up, seeming to know what happened, you and ellie are forced into talking again to find out who it is. problem is she's a rockstar and on tour, you may just have to figure it out over text.

WARNINGS: cursing, mentions of drinking/drugs, mentions of s*x, there will/may be se*ts so thats a warning.. dark themes in later chapters (will be trigger warned)

↳ prolouge

part i. (r)

part ii. (e)

part iii. (r)

part iv. (e)

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams #ellie williams the last of us #series #the last of us fanfiction

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infectedbride · 11 months

Text

ᥫ᭡ . # ۫ , ⸺ UNCHAINED MELODY, PART ONE !

summary :: surviving raccoon city together, you catch the affections of leon kennedy, ada wong, jill valentine, and carlos oliveira. six years later, you reunite with them and realize their obsession with you has increased tenfold.

chapters :: the masterlist.

word count :: 5.7k.

content warnings :: mdni!! yandere!leon, yandere!ada, yandere!jill, yandere!carlos, noncon touching, drugging, kidnapping, ptsd, violence, explosions, weapons, death, mild sexual themes, sexual harassment (done by some random npc), car crash, hospitals, reader breaks their arm.

──── Rain.

It's the first thing you are able to scrutinize once you come out of your state of comatose. You listen to the tumultuous melody as the droplets batter against the roof of the car. Even with your eyes locked tight, you are able to figure out where you are just by the rumble of the car engine, jostling you around when the tires hit a crevice in the road. A fuzzy, knitted blanket is adorned around your body. Your headphones are set on top of your head, a playlist of your favorite songs playing on a low volume. The sounds come out distorted, somehow, as if the lyrics were tripping over themselves and the tunes were awkwardly dancing with one another. It's almost as if you had been drugged.

The right side of your face is squished against something, which you now perceive as somebody's neck. The surface pushes your headphones uncomfortably into the side of your head. In a fruitless attempt to take them off, you realize you are paralyzed from head to toe. An arm is draped around your shoulder, the other firmly around your legs which are draped among their lap. Whomever this stranger is, they are quite brawny as they tighten their thick arms around you. They press gentle kisses to your forehead, the stubble of their beard tickling your skin. A deep voice whispers sugary affirmations against your temple, but you are unable to dissect them through the warped music and white noise. Have I been kidnapped? Who the fuck is this person?

With what little strength you have left in your body, you are able to peel your eyes open just a crack. You find yourself in the middle of the backseat (the safest spot in the car, which was certainly done on purpose). You find the arms draped around you are tan, adorned in heaps of black hair. Casting your gaze forward, you look to the driver. You see a woman with short, dirty-blonde hair whose slender fingers grasp hold of the steering wheel. The identity of these two people remains unknown to you. Looking at the windows, the rain cascading down the glass prevents you from pinpointing any potential landmarks. The only thing you can do is slump against this stranger and let yourself be driven far, far away.

You rewind into the past to collect any memories that would help decipher the current events. All you are able to garner is a crisp October evening, where you snuggled beneath a blanket in the safe expanse of your bedroom. You remember wrapping the blanket around your shoulders and strolling into the kitchen, where you would then make yourself a hot cup of tea. This was your normal night routine, you recall in defeat. The last memory you had would be of no use, considering the large gap in your mind once you drank the first sip of tea. So, you rewind even further to see if anything abnormal had occurred during the day.

You remember how you had spent your morning journaling in the garden, analyzing the faces of other patients and doctors wandering through your memory. Nothing stuck out, however, so you abandoned your reminiscing of this past morning. You then think back to group therapy at noon, where others would express their traumas from Raccoon City six years prior. You would tell your own story of the agony you endured and how you met several people who had protected you with their lives. Leon Kennedy, Ada Wong, Jill Valentine, and Carlos Oliveira — four names you would never forget.

Then, you would express the grief you felt when you were told none of them had survived the night. You had never felt so alone after. But, fortunately, you were then taken under the wing of this sanctuary built just for survivors. You have stayed in their habitation since.

The faces of those listening to your story were people you have seen every day; none of their features matched the physicality of the people in this car. With that, you fast forward further into the afternoon to find anything that sticks out. The heightened security that seemed to be reserved for you made you furrow your brow. However, it was nothing explicit enough to explain your current circumstances. Several guards stood outside your room as you lost yourself in the book you checked out from the sanctuary's library. The headphones you wore blared your favorite music and tuned out any and all outside noise. Even the hushed noises straight from your kitchen.

The hours of the afternoon faded away while you read through your book. It wasn't until a friend had come to your door to remind you of your plans to go stargazing did you realize the sun had begun to set. As they left, you decided to brew yourself some tea before you would join the others outside. You remember sitting at your frail kitchen table, blanket adorning your shoulders like a cape as you watched the tea kettle on the stove. Silence pervades and you can't help letting your mind wander. It has been six full years since the incident in Raccoon City. Still, your brain always seems to saunter back to the memories of that night.

You think of Leon Kennedy that night. You remember those pale blue eyes, freckled innocence, puppy-soft hair; you remember how he had saved your life that night in Raccoon City. Working at the Mizoil Gas Station, sitting right on the outskirts of the city, you're bound to face your fair share of weird regulars. And Leon Kennedy, by far, was the weirdest. A week before the night that sent your life into a tornado, you had met the new rookie who just arrived in town. And for seven days, you would always spot that familiar green jeep outside your workplace. His relentless appearances made you worry he had a hole in his gas tank or something. However, his visits weren't to grab gas or a quick snack for the road, it was to awkwardly lean against the counter and pathetically try to win your heart.

"Oh, hey Y/N! Funny running into you here..." The twelve visits a day spoil his attempts at being suave. "Yeah. I work here, Leon." His name sounds like nectar on your tongue, to a point where he is on the verge of outright begging you to say it. Even once more.

You then think of how during your closing shift, a coworker had become something ghastly, something monstrous. It all just happened so fast. You think of how you shielded yourself in your cramped work locker, limbs jutting out against the uncomfortable metal walls. To this day, you can still feel the suffocating tightness in your chest from holding back your sobs. All while you helplessly listened to the horrific sounds of your coworkers and customers being torn apart. You're entirely shaken with trauma, but with your brain in survival mode, you know this was no time to rest. Who knows how many more of those things will arrive? Now was your only shot at escaping this hellhole. So, you begrudgingly peel open the locker door and carefully inspect your surroundings. You grab a six-pack of beer on the desk beside you and take one of the bottles out. It was your only available weapon against your zombified coworkers, after all.

Blood paints your sneakers red and cheap beer stains your uniform as you fight your way out of the station. The sight of the entrance feels like a light at the end of the tunnel. Your lungs tighten with exhaustion as you continue to run towards it. That is until a firm grasp on your wrist halts your intentions. Swinging the bottle towards the assailant, they block it with ease and disarm you. It wasn't until a stuttering, concerned voice gasps your name do you realize that you almost just stabbed Leon Kennedy in the face. But God, you never thought you would be so happy for the persistent neediness of this cop.

You don't even know what had overcome you, but the sight of something human fills you with so much relief, you engulf the man into a hug. It lasted a mere second, but it was more than enough to get Leon's heart thumping in his chest. Even in the face of death, a smile tugs at his lips with any crumb of affection he can extrapolate from you. Muttering an apology to him, Leon disregards it entirely and stares at you with that dumb, love-struck expression. Your drop-dead gorgeous self; your witty comebacks that have his ribs tough with laughter… You, of all people, initiated affection with him, you actually wanted to touch him!

The roar of something inhuman cuts Leon off, to where he then bends down and scoops you into his arms. Without a second to resist, Leon (who is far too elated for comfort) sprints through the door with you and books it to his jeep. You're too busy staring at the store in trepidation to stop Leon from opening the car door for you, placing you in the passenger seat, and fastening your seatbelt for you. Almost as if you were a child, incapable of using your own hands.

The car ride to the Raccoon Police Department is quiet. Other than a few hushed reassurances of comfort from Leon, a heavy silence sits between the two of you. It's so bewildering that the people you had spent every day with are all dead. Not even dead, but zombie-fied creatures groaning to tear your flesh asunder. Your brain drifts to one coworker, in particular. One who was a master at getting under your skin. Manipulating your time alone to ask you out to dinner for the umpteenth time while tracing his hands over your skin. You never agreed, but with every attempt to bring this problem to your manager, it was always swept under the rug. And at last, you would have to endure the eerie smile and roaming hands of this middle-aged creep.

But now, things are different. You think about how he is now dead and can never touch you again; you think of how sickeningly good it felt to drive the rear end of a half-shattered bottle into his skull. Looking at your hands, you find your palms caked with his blood. Leon takes notice of this, taking one hand off the wheel and using it to grasp your hand into his. Electricity tickles through him from the contact. "You didn't have a choice" he assures in that soft tone reserved for you, but he is wrong. You did have a choice, and in the end, you wanted to hurt him.

"I wanted to. I wanted to kill him." Your gaze is locked on your red hands as you confess; Leon's gaze is fixated on you. "I just couldn't put up with him anymore. I finally got to fucking get back at him for once, to take advantage of him while he was weak." You don't even notice the tears streaming down your emotionally-drained expression.

You especially don't notice the sheer affect your words have on Leon. Tense jaw, flared nostrils, chest rising up and down with short breaths. What the fuck did he do to you? What had he done to push you, the angel of Leon's life, to such violent measures? He imagines his disgusting hands, dirtying your heavenly form; he imagines your face scrunched up with dismay, tears brimming in your eyes. And it absolutely destroys him. His heavy stare remains locked on you, entirely oblivious to any outside sources. No zombies, no eight-foot-tall tyrants — all that mattered was the audacity this dead man had to put his hands on you. And god, it makes him red with rage.

"Leon- LEON-!!" You shout out to warn him before the jeep then collides into a car wreck. It is pure mayhem as you shield your head with your hands and prepare for your demise. Leon’s arm stretches out over you in a desperate attempt to protect you. How ironic that in the face of a zombie apocalypse, you would die because of someone's poor driving skills.

You reluctantly open your eyes; you're alive. With your ears ringing out and your vision fuzzy, you manage to wrestle your way out of the jeep that had been flipped upside down. A grunt escapes from your chest as you make contact with the pavement. Something wet trickles down your head and from your nose, which doesn't take much for you to perceive as blood. You are so disoriented, you entirely forget about the man who was driving you just moments before. So disoriented, in fact, you don't hear the weak whimpers of your name from Leon as he watches you stumble further and further and further away from him.

You think of Ada Wong that night. You remember the click of her heels, her expensive perfume, her manicured nails; you remember how she had saved your life that night in Raccoon City. Somehow in your bewildered state, you had found yourself in one of the holding cells of RPD. You had collapsed against a metal bench, catching sight of a blood-stained first aid kit just within reach. You then tend to your wounds with feeble efforts. Soon, your senses clear, to where horrifying screams of agony echo through the large expanse. An unseen force rattles the room, and chunks of wall soar through the air from the cell beside you. There's a pop! before a deafening silence settles in the room.

All that is left in the air is your rapid breathing, waiting for your inescapable demise to embrace you. But, there is simply nothing to greet you but you and your thoughts. The gentle tap of quiet footsteps fills the permeating quiet. A woman then enters your train of vision, dressed in a trench coat, sunglasses, and stiletto heels. She stops in her tracks upon seeing you, seemingly inspecting you from behind her eyewear. With a tilt of her head, the woman steps through the threshold of your cell, where you then bundle yourself in the corner of the room. And you are just so adorable how you cave into yourself, almost like a bunny. So frail and terrified; too damn cute.

The way she walks to you is as if she were on a catwalk. Your trauma-ridden body trembles in fear with every step she takes closer. When she is just within reach, you act on instinct and push her away from you, racing past her and out of the cell. She barely stumbles from your attempt at an attack, an amused chuckle vibrating from her chest. You get a good several steps away before you finally discover what had made such a booming noise before. A man lies dead on the ground in the locked cell beside yours with a punctured hole in the wall. His dry mouth is hung agape and his body sits lifeless. Both eyes have been popped out of their sockets, blood seeping down his face and to the ground below. The woman follows you in your footsteps as you stare in horror. She merely tuts at the sight, a sigh of disappointment filling the empty air. How in the world is she not as terrified as you are?

"Come with me." Her voice is feminine, oozing with sultry confidence. It's soothing to listen to.

"Why?" Meanwhile, your voice is nothing like hers. Your speech comes out shaky and quiet, adorned in the fear this woman was apparently immune to.

"Well, you wouldn't want to end up like Ben, would you?" Your silence serves as your unspoken agreement. "Come now." In addition to her poised nature, her voice is also flat with demanding dominance. You find yourself blindly following her as she struts away.

Accompanying this woman as she walks through the police department as if she were the headline of a fashion show, you soon make it to the grimy streets of the city. During that time, she had introduced herself to you as Ada Wong, a spy working to retrieve the G-Virus. Why is she telling you the whole truth about herself, she doesn't know. Why did she make you follow her when she knows she works better alone, she doesn't know, either. There's just something about the way you cower into her when a zombie growls and the way your eyes glimmer with gratitude when she annihilates the monsters in your path. It makes her feel worthy, for something other than violence or money. As if she were the big, bad wolf who had fallen for the helpless bunny rabbit.

Now standing at the end of the street before the sewer entrance, you stare below in apprehension for what you have now learned lies within. This whole time, all the secrets Umbrella have were hidden right beneath your nose. Or better yet, right beneath your feet. A tank truck lies on its side several feet away from you and behind it, a trail of fire travels closer and closer. The flames and oil mending together then causes an explosion to erupt. Before you even had a chance to process anything, you're in the air, where you land in a patch of grass with a loud crack. Permeating pain courses through your right arm. From the time you had broken your wrist in 5th grade from attempting to climb a tree, you can tell your arm has suffered the same fate.

A leather-gloved hand then places itself onto your cheek. You look to see Ada, now with no glasses, tousled hair, and her coat discolored from grass stains. A dandelion had managed to wrangle itself with one of the dark-colored strands on her head. Playfully, you pluck the dandelion from her hair and gift it to her. Then, you make some joking remark about how it's a "thanks for the save earlier" with a weak chuckle. Your hand touches hers and something flutters within Ada's stomach — something grand, something scary. Something... warm. It stuns her into silence and catches her entirely off guard.

Her gaze shifts to your lips. Despite how chapped and dry they are, your bottom lip seeping with blood after the tough fall, they couldn't look any more appetizing to Ada. The mere idea of pressing her lips to yours causes her to relentlessly fall further and further into this unfamiliar, twitter-pated oblivion. You are just so benevolent, softhearted, and so, so bright. Ada's head is so fogged up with all sorts of devoted insanity, she doesn't take notice of the mass of zombies treading closer. While Ada is crouching beside you, she is then tackled to the ground. A pandemonium of zombies roaring ensues, and you're attacked by the undead, as well. With a hard kick to the skull of your assailant, you're able to wrangle yourself out of their grip on your leg. You stand to your feet and search for Ada to no avail, the heaps of zombies restraining you from any clarity.

With that, you turn tail and slam open the doors of the closest shelter you could find: Gun Shop Kendo.

You think of Jill Valentine that night. You remember her calloused hands, her rough-edged attitude, her scent of gunpowder; you remember how she had saved your life that night in Raccoon City. When you enter the gun shop, you're met with a man and a woman, both disheveled with dirt and blood. They point their guns at you upon your rushed entrance and in response, you raise your hands to surrender. The pummeling on the doors then has you all racing to barricade the entrance, using abandoned shelves and boxes as impromptu defenses. With heavy panting and a hefty barrier, the three of you stand, exasperated, trying to catch your breath. You sink to the floor and hold your arm, flashes of agony pumping through the broken limb.

Despite the danger just outside and your arm overcome with pain, this is the best you'll get in your current state. Shelter and weapons. You'll just have to endure how the shop owner shoved the barrel of his gun in your face and how the cop beside him sees you as gum beneath her shoe. Jill treats you like she does everyone else: ice-cold and blunt. She doesn't say a word to you; she barely acknowledges your presence. For that, you assume she hates your guts. Considering the circumstances, however, you don't take it to heart. Instead, you thank the two for allowing you to stay in the shop while the storm of zombies outside dies down.

However, things are quite different on Jill's end. The simple way you exist — it stuns her. Throughout her entire life, this dull ache has resided in her chest. She feels nothing. She would try and garner any feeling whatsoever; she'd do something adrenaline-inducing to feel fear, she'd do something ignorant to feel guilt. She would do everything to fill this hollow void within her. But, her incessant efforts were all brought to no avail.

That is until you came along.

Even though you're just some helpless civilian with no other desires than temporary protection, something foreign pervades her brain. Jill has come to realize you are far more than just the pretty face on the surface (although the idea of others witnessing your beauty causes her stomach to churn). She then tends to your broken arm, acting as if her heart wasn't running a mile a minute from the close contact. Meanwhile, lust-driven fantasies that would make even a harlot blush muddle her brain. To have you beneath her, staring up at her like that. You can't expect her to not swoon at the mere thought of how you'd taste, how you'd sound, how you'd tremble from her touch. Her mouth waters at the mental image alone.

Without thinking, Jill leans in to kiss you, fully ready to take you here on the floor of this filthy gun shop. The cock of Kendo's gun brings her out of her haze. You, on the other hand, assume this woman views you as nothing but a burden despite the clear display of infatuation in front of you. She informs you with a flat tone how survivors would be taken to the subway station, where they would then be transported out of the city. You thank her again for her hospitality, but mostly out of culpability. With your arm now covered with swiftly-made bandages, you reach with the other for an abandoned gun. Now that you've accepted the assumption this woman doesn't want a thing to do with you, the only way you'll get out of Raccoon City is by yourself. However, she blocks your attempt with a gentle grasp of your wrist.

"No need." Her voice is rough, but beneath the facade, it is timid and fearful.

"Why not?"

"You have me. I won't let anything happen to you." You stare at her, completely flabbergasted at the sudden alter in attitude.

The journey to the subway station was a breeze, to say the least. With your new bodyguard there to obliterate any danger in your path, it was practically a stroll in the park. She tells you her name and you tell her yours. Y/N Valentine has kind of a ring to it, Jill thinks. But with only just a few blocks to cross, something large, something beastly, something entirely inhuman stops you in your tracks. Incredibly massive with its large teeth protruding from its mouth, it groans a deep "S.T.A.R.S" before it begins to stomp towards you. Terror submerges your senses and immobilizes you. A red laser points from the rocket launcher in its hands, the dot sitting right by your feet. Jill then grabs hold of your hand and tries to run off with you, but her futile attempts were too late. A rocket then strikes the pavement and its force sends the two of you into the air. Your bandaged arm lands first against the unforgiving ground, anguish permeating your entire body.

You think of Carlos Oliveira that night. You remember his gruff voice, his kind heart, his dirt-caked skin; you remember how he had saved your life that night in Raccoon City. The pain in your arm is so blinding, there is nothing else you can think about. Not Jill, not Ada, not Leon, not the myriad of monstrous creatures on your tail. The only thing that exists right now is the torturous misery coursing through you. You're writhing on the cold pavement as you cling to your arm, cries of distress and exhaustion trembling from your chest. God, when will this nightmare fucking end?

The gut-wrenching entrance you're in is broken when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You expect to find Jill and her stone-cold, yet concerned expression, only to turn over your shoulder and see a complete stranger. He has a head full of messy, dark hair, with loose strands shielding his face; a strong body, with his military vest filled with heavy weaponry. His expression, however, was the most memorable. God, he looks at you as if you've hung the moon. His appearance is unkempt and dirty, but still overwhelmed with cheesy rom-com levels of infatuation. Why is this stranger looking at you as if you were walking down the aisle on your wedding day? You don't know. Besides, there are far more important matters to concern yourself with.

The heavy slam of Jill's boots reverberates as she sprints over to you. She helps you to your feet, not without a quick glare at the man beside you that reads "don't you fucking touch them." Jill puts your intact arm around her and leads you into Moon's Donuts, all while the deafening sounds of gunfire and grisly roars echo from behind. You don't dare turn around; you couldn't bear to look at that abomination once more. The quiet hum of heavy rock welcomes you as you enter the deserted donut shop. You practically collapse into one of the booths, Jill following behind and sitting across from you. With an exhale of relief, you relax into the seat and hold your arm in an attempt for temporary comfort. The man from before enters shortly, as well, then barricades the entrance with ease.

Your bandages are now torn and peeling. In an effort to fix it yourself, that same agonizing pain satiates through your arm instead. You hiss in response, alerting the two others. The man leans down before you, introducing himself as Carlos Oliveira, then eagerly asking you to inform him of your name. You oblige and he visibly shivers when your skin makes contact with his, an expressed concoction of nerves and irrepressible obsession. Upon gingerly grasping hold of your arm, he uses medical equipment from the various pockets around his chest and tends to you. His touch is careful, delicate — as if you would drift away if he applied any pressure. With every whimper and groan of pain from you, shocks are sent straight to his heart. Carlos had just met you moments ago yet still, he can't fathom the idea of you in pain. He assumes it's merely empathy, but when he feels tears brim in his eyes at the sight of you suffering, he knows this isn't normal.

With Jill's hand on your shoulder, consoling you through the pain, Carlos finishes swiftly before reluctantly breaking physical contact with you. He then gives you his canteen bottle, allowing you some water after your exhausting efforts to survive. You down the water like you've been parched for years. In the process, you are entirely oblivious to the heavy breathing from Carlos, who is left stunned at the prospect of an indirect kiss. Your lips against his — he feels his cheeks heat up from the idea alone. He doesn't realize how totally deranged he looks in his lovesick hysteria before the sharp snap of Jill's fingers brings him back to reality. Her possessive stare, her physical affection with you. Carlos feels his world crumble at the revelation that falls: you belong to Jill. The partner of his dreams is sitting right in front of him, but at the same time, is entirely out of reach. And it shatters him.

With that being said, Carlos isn't always the most articulate with his attempts at garnering information, hence why he stuck to the guns. So, as Jill and Carlos guard you like feral dogs with a bone while you travel back to the subway, he lets his facade slip.

"So... Are you two-like... Are you guys-um? Like, together?" Smooth as silk, Carlos. Smooth as silk.

Jill rolls her eyes in response. Mostly due to how annoying she thought him to be, but especially due to the fact that you aren't actually hers. Meanwhile, you tilt your head in confusion like a lost puppy (and you miss the way they visibly melt from the sight). After another fit of relentless stammering from Carlos, Jill finally clears the air.

"No, we're not dating." It hurts her to say it, evident in the way she clenches her jaw in an attempt to suppress her protruding emotions. Meanwhile, Carlos is sent to cloud nine.

Despite the blood, death, and gore he had witnessed in a single night, he had never felt so elated in all his years alive. Jill scoffs at his thinly-veiled euphoria, before grasping your hand and treading forward. Through trial and error (and more zombies than you could count), the three of you finally make it back to the subway station. You could cry, it's almost over. However, you can't help but notice how Jill and Carlos are perceptibly devastated by the idea of letting you go.

You hug Jill. It was nothing intimate, merely a thanks for the help she had provided you. Still, her body goes rigid and her heart flourishes with every kind of emotion she has never felt before. Through all the revelations that have taken place in this hellhole of a night, none of it compared to the earth-shattering emotions you have given her. Fear, lust, jealousy, devotion — it's all so overwhelming and she loves it.

You hug Carlos next. Again, nothing intimate or ulterior about the act of affection. But just like Jill, his heart practically detonates from the close contact. If only you could see his love-struck face; his expression is practically straight out of a cartoon. Cupid's bow through his chest, bluebirds swarming around his head and all. When the friendly hug soon started to turn into a romantic embrace, you push yourself off of Carlos, excusing his actions as nothing short of post-traumatic nerves.

With that, you join the other civilians on the train. The subway doors close behind you as you look at the survivors around you. All of them are riddled with trauma, shaken and silently weeping from the sights they have witnessed. Despite the harrowing circumstances, you're alive. That is all that matters and you could not be more grateful. Sitting on an empty seat, an exhale of relief escapes your chest. The train whirs as it begins to move. You turn your shoulder and look through the filth-stained windows to find Jill and Carlos, eyes blown wide with emotion as they watch you leave them. They stand in the same place you had left them, gazing wistfully at the love of their life. Picking up speed, you are soon out of their sight and they are now without the one they love most. And the sheer affect it has on them is gut-wrenching.

Fortunately for you, the ride out of the city is plain sailing. And with no S.T.A.R.S. members on the train, there is no 8-foot-tall creature there to set everything ablaze. You have now become one of the very few people who can say they made it out of Raccoon City alive.

You think of Raccoon City the morning after and the consequences that came from surviving. You think about what Carlos had said to you in the midst of danger. "I'm not gonna die on you and leave you in a cold, cruel, Carlos-less world." Liar.

Upon escaping the city safely, you and the other survivors were sent to a local hospital. From thereon, you would spend the next several days there (and finally receive proper treatment for your broken arm). After several days of anxiously anticipating the well-being of your friends and the entirety of Raccoon City, a doctor you had never seen before enters your room in the dead of night. Introducing himself as Dr. Matt Gorkis, he then reveals the news of the missile strike sent to the city and how there were no other survivors. A wave of devastation and helplessness washes over you. Weeping softly, the doctor bluntly provides details of the matter.

He then informs you of a sanctuary being built just for survivors of the incident. There will be provided shelter, basic necessities, and all sorts of therapeutic activities that will help you during your healing journey. And with your job, your home, and all of your friends eradicated to dust, you know you have no other choice. With another month of being tested for infections and going through physical therapy, you are released from the hospital and sent away with the doctor. For the past six years, this sanctuary is what you have learned to call home.

The hissing of the tea kettle makes you jump, bringing an abrupt halt to your road trip down memory lane. And while you pour yourself a cup of tea, you realize that your memories will be of no use for your current circumstances. For now, you'll have to let yourself be lulled to sleep in the back of this stranger's vehicle, driven far away to god-knows-where. But, the embrace the person has on you is so warm, so inviting. Your body can’t help but succumb to the relaxation this stranger provides.

You just hope that when you wake up, whatever welcomes you isn't anything reminiscent of the nightmare you faced six years ago.

⁺ 🎧 , 🪷 ۫ you are currently listening to . . . ⁺ 🪺 , 🎵 ꪆ

❝ MY LOVE, MY DARLING

I'VE HUNGERED FOR YOUR TOUCH . . . ❞

not a single person had asked for this, but it has been all my brain has been able to think about. i hope u all can appreciate some breadcrumbs from the ramblings of my heart hehe.

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infectedbride · 11 months

Note

pretty please would you write something where r and ellie, jesse n dina are playing truth or dare and someone dares r to fake an orgasm and ellies just like 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 all night after

Gasm’…. Pathetic!Ellie Williams

Was she…shy? That couldn’t be it all. She had the crudest attitude in Jackson hole.

Nervous? That couldn’t be right either. You’d heard a rumor last year that her estimated infected kill count was in the lower 300’s. No way in hell that girl right there was a pussy.

Then was she brooding? Hmmph…maybe.

But you doubted it. You’d seen the girl brood before, seen her walk into the stables and the pub with a mood so dark you could feel the cold breeze from where she stood.

But right then, right there, across from you, all she was just…quiet.

Williams, the closed off, freckled-faced brunette, was sitting on the floor sandwiched between Dina’s whining and Jessie’s taunts, as still as a mute swan.

She had her knees up to her chin. A faint bunny toothed grin danced on her lips. Yet you were supposed to believe this was the same girl that scared the shit out of a half of Jackson’s youth? You itched to call bullshit.

Ellie elbowed Jesse off her back as Dina reached for the bottle again, watching the caramel coloured beer bottle turn round and round and round until it slowed down to point at you.

Everyone breathed a visible sign of relief, grateful at the realization that they didn’t have to be one answering a stupid question like 'when was the first time you gave a girl head?”

Dina’s finger touched the glass ridge to keep the bottle from rolling, before dragging that finger to her chin to tap it.

“Truth or dare?”

“Hmm dare…I guess?”

Dina hummed “Dare huh?”

A slow grin spread on her face as her back straightened, leaning away from Ellie and her puzzled expression.

“…dare” she repeated with her tongue poking the side of her cheek.

“I dare you, and no takesies backsies cause I know you’re a pussy, to fake the most insanely convincing orgasm you can. Right now.”

“Dina…” you began before you saw Ellie’s elbows hook atop her knees as she leaned in, trying to swallow her look of puzzled interest.

Jesse stifled a chuckle, Dina flashed a fangy smile (the little tease wasn’t apologetic in the slightest). And Ellie started playing with the bronze rings on her fingers.

“Ahh…uh..um-.” you stumbled.

You smoothed the front of your top and closed your eyes. You exhaled before rubbing the gloss of your lips together and smacked them loudly before starting.

your lips grew into a soft pout.

“Nnnmm ah-huh ahh wan’ more.” You bopped atop your calves, letting the momentum make the fat of your tits bounce. “Ngnm ah ah! feel so good inside… oh! Ahh! I can take more I promise, stretch me there”

You whimpered into the space, cupping both of your soft tits as your eyes screwed painfully tight to drown yourself into the fantasy. Your moans drowned out the surprised gasps from Dina and Jesse, and the sounds of Ellie’s fidgeting as her jeans created friction.

Pink down to her torso, lips agape and wet from repeated licking, and heart hammering so loud it stifled the sounds of your whiny moans, Ellie was distraught. She kept one hand clasped over the other in front of her crotch.

“Please please ngahh s’full…s’full It’s coming mmah I’m gonn-cum on you”

A sparkly fat tear collected on the fat of your cheek, and Ellie hiccuped, plump bottom lip trembling.

You slowed your whimpers, and stopped your rocking. Swiping the tear and smoothing your top again.

Dina and Jessie were sheepish, but proud. “You’re… not a pussy at least.

how’d you even do that?” Dina leaned in.

“No seriously, I’m asking for myself.” Jessie joined.

Dina rolled her eyes “Oh fuck you Jessie, as if you’d need a reason to fake an orgasm.”

He brought his hands up in defense

“Believe it or not….I actually would.”

But Ellie was the only silent body. She bored her eyes into the bottom of her glass drink and pointedly refused to bring them back up. She was too afraid to make eye contact.

You let out one last whimper as you shifted positions on the floor, and the speed to which her eyes flicked back up, desperate to see more, surprised you. Pinker heat bloomed back on her cheeks as her eyes ashamedly ripped down back to the glass again.

She drew her shoulders up to her ears and just eye-fucked the glass. She chided herself to stay quiet, make no sounds, least of all a whimper, but the squelch in her boxers told a different story.

God, what a pathetic little gay loser.

#˗ˏ￤ 𝐛𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 ﹫ 𝐁𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 ￤ˎ˗#ellie x reader #ellie x reader smut #Ellie #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams tlou #ellie x fem reader #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us x reader

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infectedbride · 11 months

Text

I wish I could stay in the Past

Pairing: Billy Loomis x Fem!Reader

Summary: Who would have thought that 27 years after the first Woodsboro massacre, you still couldn't live in peace? Now, you have been asked by Agent Kriby Reed to come to New York, where apparently a new Ghostface killer was on the loose. For you, this meant going back into your past and meeting the person you were trying to protect from your life since she was born.

Warnings: Spoilers for Scream VI, English isn't my first language

Word Count: 5,890

Kirby stood in front of the white board plastered with photos of every Ghostface killer from 1996 to 2022, of the masks found at the crime scenes, and of the victims killed so far.

“…Mickey Altieri, Nancy Loomis, Stu Macher and Billy Loomis. Number One and also the father of our chief suspect.”

Detective Bailey, arms crossed before his chest, nodded before adding, “It’s all leading us back to Sam.”

“What about the girlfriend?” Kirby suddenly mumbled, more to herself than addressing the Detective.

“What? Who’s girlfriend?”

“(Y/N) (L/N). She and Billy were childhood sweethearts. Although she was never personally involved in any Ghostface incidents following 1996 she could never quite live her life in peace. I mean, come on. The mourning love interest has to be a main suspect. His mother tried to avenge his death and no one thought about that either. Then boom! Dead teenagers everywhere.”

Bailey turned his face to look at her with a raised eyebrow.

“What? It’s just an idea.”

“Hm.” He hummed, “It could be worth a shot.”

A totally stupid shot, because what sane person would suddenly seek revenge after 27 years? Well, if it keeps her occupied, who am I to stop her?

“Any idea on how we can reach her?”

Kirby smirked. “Of course I do.”

New York was far too loud, far too big and far too dirty for your liking. You preferred the calmness and the quiet of a nice little town somewhere far away from any crime or even the smallest hint of being dragged into another drama. You really thought you would finally be at peace, having that calm and quiet life, until you got a call from Agent Kirby Reed. You remember that name well. Besides Sidney and Gale, obviously, she was the only victim who survived the Second Woodsboro Massacre. On the phone she told you that someone had put on the Ghostface mask again and was after a group of teenagers. She wanted you to come to New York right away so you could be questioned.

It wasn’t the first time you were a suspect but being one again after almost 30 years? You were about to give vent to the familiar old feeling of simmering anger for being falsely accused again when…

“Your niece was among those who were attacked.”

“Sam?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m on my way. It’s going to take a few hours.”

“That’s alright. When you arrive in New York go straight to the NYPD and tell them you are here to see Agent Reed. Someone will show you the way to the office I’m currently occupying.”

You were just about to open the car door and leave the parking lot near the police station when you got a text.

[Agent Reed]: Change of plans. Someone thinks you need to see this too. Come to this address.

So now you were standing in front of some kind run-down movie theatre, not knowing if you were ate the right place. You read the text message again… nope, still the same street name and the same house number. You were about to dial Kirby’s number when someone called your name.

“Over here!”

You turned to the blonde woman standing a few meters away from you, holding open a metal door. “Agent Kirby Reed?” You asked.

“The one and only.” She nodded for you to follow her. “Come in, the others are already inside.”

It’s strange, you thought. I’m actually meeting Samantha.

You stopped at a metal bar door that already allowed you an insight of the room ahead of you. There was tingling feeling in your belly.

“You’re ready?”

You nodded as an answer, not trusting your mouth to form a decent sentence.

It felt like you were pushed back into your 18-year-old-self. Mannequins, display shelves and cases were set up and lead to a stage. It was impossible to take everything in at the same time so you walked through the row that was closest to you. Years of evidence put together like it was a museum, like a fucking…

“A shrine.” Kirby said from behind you. “Dedicated to every killer that put on the mask.”

You barely registered what she just said when you saw what was displayed at the end of the row. You almost couldn’t believe your eyes. There… There were Tatum’s clothes, the ones she wore when she was killed… and there was the robe Stu wore at his party… and Billy’s bloody t-shirt. You walked past a sitting mannequin looking exactly like Steve Orth until you were standing right in front of the white cloth still covered in blood. Huffing out a shaky breath, you reached out to touch it. Your fingers traced from every hole where he was stabbed until it stopped on the chest of the mannequin. You almost expected to feel a heartbeat underneath your skin…

Oh Billy.

Maybe it was the overwhelming, morbid nostalgic feeling that almost crushed you seeing all those reminders of your past, but you still hadn’t noticed the small group on the stage next to you watching you either with curious or wary eyes.

You were still caught up in your head, thinking back to that afternoon on September 28th in 1996 — you, reading another true crime novel and playing with the brown curls of your boyfriend’s hair while his head rested on your lap, napping. You two had stayed in this position until the sun went down. The clock read 6 PM when you decided to make dinner and he left the kitchen to make a quick phone call. When he got back…

“Billy, are you serious? There is a killer outside!”

“Stu lives only 10 minutes away. I’ll take the car.”

“Are you sure? Shouldn’t we call the police?”

“No, it’s alright. I’m just gonna make sure he doesn’t overdo it. You know how he is.”

You laughed, “Yeah, I do and I love him for that.”

Billy tilted his head, an amused glint in his eyes. “Oh really? I thought you loved me.”

The smile on your face grew brighter as he bent down to place a gentle kiss on your lips. “I do love you. So much.”

You snapped out of your thoughts.

It would have been perfect. A concerned Billy wanting to make sure his best friend was okay so he goes to his party to check on him, but is surprised by the killer. Both, he and Stu, are fighting to survive and in the end, sadly, they are the only ones still alive. The police would have believed them that it was Sidney’s father all along and you and Billy could have lived a happily ever after in another town, away from all that traumatic shit he ‘went through’.

But the reality was different. Billy had been a psychotic serial killer, murdering friends and class mates and even Sidney’s mother. He had been the one getting addicted to the feeling of killing someone after Maureen Prescott, he had been the one who had done all those horrible things…

“Kirby, who’s that?” A female voice asked.

Kirby gave you a quick look before answering, “This is (Y/N) (L/N)-“

“(Y/N)?” Gale interrupted her and watched you climb the stairs of the stage.

You first inspected each of the 9 Ghostface mannequins — your eyes lingering on the middle one a little longer — before acknowledging her. You still held a grudge against her considering how much she had turned your life upside down.

“Hello Gale. Long time no see.” You greeted her with a tight smile on your lips. “And since I was ordered here for an interrogation, let’s be honest. It’s actually (Y/N) Carpenter.”

Everyone but Gale suddenly straightened up before the teenagers of the group looked at the two girls closest to the Ghostface costume in the glass case. Both looked at you with furrowed eyebrows as if they were trying to somehow place you in their family tree.

Looking at her made you tear up. You smiled. “Hi Samantha.”

“It’s… just Sam, actually. I’m sorry, do I know you?” She asked you, confused, still trying to remember where and when she met you.

“You don’t, but I know you. Christina told me everything about you, always kept me up-to-date.” You took a quick breathe to control your emotions. “God, you’ve grown. You look so much like him.”

Sam shifted on her feet, not liking where this conversation was going. “Him? You mean my father.”

“How do you know our mom?” The short girl next to her butt in. She seemed just as wary as her sister.

“Christina is my older sister.”

“So you’re our aunt.”

“Not exactly. I’m your aunt, Tara.” You said before addressing Sam directly, “Christina called me when you found out who your real father is in those diaries.” You were really about to drop the bomb. “You know, those diaries weren’t hers… they were mine.”

“What are you saying?”

“That the one who got pregnant by Billy Loomis wasn’t Christina. It was me.”

Sam looked at you like you've grown a second head. “So what? You’re… You’re my mother?”

“Biological, yes. In any other way, probably not.”

“Oh my God.” She started to walk up and down with her hands gripping her hair. “Oh my God.”

“I know it’s a lot, but-“

“A lot? You just come here, a total stranger, and tell me you’re my mother when the woman who raised me all those years isn’t actually my mom but my aunt!”

“I don't expect you to replace her with me and accept me as your new mother, Sam. I’m not planning on taking you with me to force you into mother-daughter-relationship after 26 years. I’m here to help you.”

Sam’s head whipped around to look at Kirby.

“She’s on my suspect list, Sam.” Kirby shrugged, “Apparently no one thinks about the revengeful love interest.”

“But I have an alibi.” You defended yourself, “I wasn’t even near New York when the teacher and the students were murdered. Same goes to the therapist and your two friends. I actually expected being questioned at the NYPD, but if you actually want to interrogate me here, go ahead.”

“Then why are you here? This very place?”

You looked back at Tara. “Because Agent Reed told me to. From what she told me we experienced similar situations and she thought I had a right to see this too.” You looked around the room. “My past is on display here as much as hers or Gale's.”

Sam shook her head, taking a step forward. “So, just to get this straight. You get knocked up by a serial killer and then just leave the baby with your sister? You found out you were pregnant with me and dumped me because what? You didn’t want to be a mom at such a young age? Or was it because you were disgusted by me?”

Your eyes widened. Of course you expected some resistance and some accusations, but it was still like a knife to your heart to see her betrayed expression and hear her furious voice. “No, of course not. I loved you the second I held you in my arms.”

“Then why?”

“I had no other choice! Do you know how hard it was, living like I had to after your father died? The names they called me? And you… you were the size of a grape and they already called you the Devil’s Spawn. No one wants to raise a child in an environment like that.”

“So you just abandoned me? Left me behind so you could get away from everything?”

“I didn’t abandon you, I gave you a safe life away from every threat that could hurt you or even corrupt you. After that night when… when it all happened, my normal life was over. Either all those blase do-gooders in Woodsboro treated me like I put a Ghostface mask on and killed all those people myself, or I was viewed by these Stab-obsessed lunatics as some sort of precious artifact left behind by their idol. I was ambushed by dozens of assholes in costumes and got 3 or 4 calls a day. Even after I moved to other towns, fuck, even to another state, and I still couldn't live my life in peace. Thanks, by the way.” You turned to Gale.

“What, me?”

“The tirade of hate you wrote about me in your damn books. First the boyfriend, then the mother of the boyfriend, and then even Roman Bridger just because he was the one who stirred Billy on into going on a killing spree. You even mentioned me in your fourth book when I literally had no connection to anything that happened that year! You made it look like I pulled the strings, egged on every Ghostface, and was planning every murder, Gale.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did. Just like you called Sam a born killer, you called me the secret Ghostface that got away who will someday get revenge on Sidney for killing the love of her life.”

Gale opened her mouth, but having nothing to reply with, she closed it again.

Using the following silence to return to the current problem, Chad asked, “So, just to make sure before that–” He awkwardly gestured to you and Sam “–happened. Someone killed these chucklefucks and took over?”

“Someone who believes that Sam masterminded Woodsboro.”

“If this would be a movie this would be the killer’s lair.”

“Which means this isn’t a normal Stab movie.”

Apparently that gave Tara the rest, as she left the stage with brisk steps and disappeared into an adjoining room. Sam was hot on her heels.

Shortly thereafter, the rest of the group split up — Kirby joined Mindy to sit on the edge of the stage, Ethan and Chad were on different sides of the room, looking at the displayed evidence, and Detective Bailey was talking to someone on the phone.

You finally had time to walk to and look at the glass case in front of you. It was a bittersweet feeling, knowing that the one you had loved the most in this world killed four people and thereby started a future death streak, all committed in costumes of his alter ego.

You were so deep in thought that ten minutes had passed and you hadn't noticed that Sam was back and was standing behind you.

“Are you married?” She asked, attracting your attention.

You took your eyes off of Billy’s name plate and looked into her brown ones that reminded her so much of her father’s. “What?”

Sam nodded down to your hand. “Do you have a family?”

Ahh…

“Oh, no. No, I don’t. That’s a promising ring. You know, when you promise someone to stay together forever and maybe get married one day. Do you kids still do that?”

“Yeah, when we’re like twelve, not fifty.”

You chuckled. “Ouch. I still have six years until I’m that old.” Sighing, you touched the ring and rolled it around your ring finger. “No, I was actually twelve years when… well, when your dad gifted it to me. So young and he already wanted to spend the rest of his life with me. This one–” You held the hand with the ring at eye level, “–was never ever replaced since then. His is right here.” You pulled the silver chain from underneath your t-shirt and revealed a similar ring just slightly bigger.

A shiver ran down Sam’s back, before asking in disbelief, “You kept it?”

“I did. And I know it seems like I went crazy or something while grieving, but I was young and devastated. I just lost the love of my life. Some grow distant and want to avoid anything that has to do with their lost loved one or being constantly reminded of them. Others, like me, have to hold onto every little fiber of them. I wore his clothes, put on his cologne… God, it was really a terrible way to cope.”

Sam grimaced.

You smiled slightly. “What?”

“It’s just strange hearing someone talk about him like he was…”

“Human?”

“He killed people, he was murderer, and you… you loved him.”

“Do you think it’s easy to stop loving someone in mere seconds? Minutes, hours, days, weeks? You have that person who you would die for, who you would kill for. This person is your everything, and you can’t imagine a life without them. So you plan it with that person; how you will graduate, how you will find a job, how you will leave both your parent’s houses to move together, maybe move to a new town, how you will have children with them, how you will marry them, and how you will grow old with them. Billy was my person, the one I wanted all those boring normal things with. And you have those normal things. You hold hands, cuddle, kiss, go on dates...” You stopped and took a breath. “Until the police shows up at your door and tells you that the one who had murdered your friends was him all along. There’s a sliver of hope that maybe, maybe you can visit him in prison so you can talk to him. But that won’t happen because the police tells you right after that he had been killed by your best friend, Sidney Prescott, and that they have some questions for you.”

You still remember how they interrogated you and asked you if you knew about Billy’s doings, if they were signs that seemed suspicious, asked you about the places you have been when he and Stu killed another victim and if there were people who could vouch for you. After two hours they finally let you go, saying they would call you if they had any more questions. You asked if you could see him, his body. Since his mother left, his father was nowhere to be found and Billy had no other close relatives, you were the next best option.

The moment you saw him, lying there cold and pale on that metal table, your whole world crumbled. With slow shaky steps you had walked closer and closer to him. Almost relieved for something to hold on, you had supported yourself by grabbing the table. At that moment you didn’t care who could see you or who could hear you… you just cried. Your sobs and hysterical breathing had filled the room, your knees buckling and your knuckles turning white from how hard you had clutched the table.

“No. No, no, no.”

You had started to hyperventilate. It got harder and harder to breathe. The walls seemed to grow closer.

And then everything went black.

When you woke up in a hospital bed you were greeted by a nurse who tried to calm you down. She told you, according to the coroner, you had passed out after having a panic attack. Just to make sure that was the actual reason they ran a few tests — nothing special, just the usual hospitals did when patients arrived unconscious. She had reassured you after you gave her a concerned look.

“Don’t worry, honey. The results of blood tests didn’t show anything worrying, but I can give you my congratulations. You are pregnant.”

Pregnant.

With Billy’s…

“You are three weeks along. The embryo is as tiny as a poppy seed, just a millimeter.”

You had gaped at her still in disbelief.

Pregnant.

You were pregnant.

You were pregnant with Billy’s baby.

Billy…

Tears had started to form in your eyes and the nurse got blurry. Again there was this feeling in your chest that there was not enough air around you and it got harder to breathe.

“Hey, it’s okay, sweetie. Since you’re only eighteen, we called your parents. They should be here soon.”

Your mom and dad had been more or less supportive. They had always loved Billy. There had been many get-together’s with his family — barbecue, picnics, movie nights. Your parents got along well. But when Billy was revealed as the Ghostface killer, yours had cut ties with the Loomis family and sheltered you from any contact from them.

What they couldn’t shelter you from was Nancy Loomis’ surprise visit three months later. Thanks to Gale’s book — because she somehow managed to find out the reason for your visit to the hospital and because this heartbreaking twist would boost her sales — everyone knew you were pregnant. Including Mrs. Loomis.

You were still stuck deep in your depression. You went from mourning him to call everything into question — was it all a lie? Every touch, every kiss, every I-love-you, every time you made love and talked about the most intimate things — to mourning him again. You were a mess.

It was too much when Billy’s mother was suddenly standing on your doorstep. You had slammed the door right into her face when you saw who was interrupting your crying fest, but through the door she had convinced you to let her in so you could talk. Your hormones got the better of you and you opened the door. Her eyes flew instantly to your belly, but your baby bump wasn’t visible through the white tee and the blue flannel.

“You have his clothes?”

“I have all his stuff. His clothes, his posters, his movies.”

You had talked to Hank and begged him to have some of his things. He had stopped you mid-rant and said you could have everything you wanted; he didn’t want it in his house. So you grabbed everything you could. When you saw the pictures displayed in his room — of you and of you and him — you turned into a crying mess and collapsed on his bed. His pillow still had smelled like him.

You must have fallen asleep because the next thing you remember was Mr. Loomis shaking you awake, looking into your bloodshot eyes and asking you if you were okay.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to-“

“(Y/N), I asked you if you’re okay.”

You had pressed your wobbly lips together and shook your head. He had engulfed you in his arms and tried his best to comfort you. After all, you were still you and despite every negative thought and feeling he held for his son and his deeds, you were not at fault. You were still the little girl from next door he had hoped to be his future daughter-in-law. You left that day with most of his stuff carefully packed up in the trunk of your car. You knew this wasn’t healthy, morbid even — the girl who grabbed the belongings of her dead killer-boyfriend to put everything in her room to have at least a hint of his presence, a imaginary possibility of him still being here with her. Now there were even more pictures of your smiling faces on your shelf, your desk, the table next to your bed and on your walls. Your closet was fuller with the addition of his t-shirts and his jackets. His movie collection was proudly placed next to yours on your shelf.

There was also a box under your bed. When you went through Billy’s tiny walk-in closet you found a cavity hidden behind the wallpaper. Inside of it was a black costume, a Ghostface mask and a knife.

A bloody knife.

Whose blood was that?!

Before you could muster another thought you scrambled to the garbage can and emptied your stomach. When you were done you felt a wave of guilt wash over you.

What were you doing? How did you not notice any suspicious change?

Well, there was this one time after his mom left. He had been so distant, strange, and there had been a dark glint in his eyes when you had cornered him after a week of radio silence. The look he fixed you with gave you the heebie-jeebies. He came around a few days later and acted like nothing had happened between the two of you.

Going back to Mrs. Loomis’ visit, you took your time warming up to her. Seeing her cry and listening to her begging you for forgiveness in Billy’s stead. Under the influence of, again, your stupid pregnancy hormones you gave in and made her a cup of tea. You two talked for hours, mostly about her son and how much she regretted leaving him behind, then Mrs. Loomis wanted you to tell her everything about what happened after leaving and what happened that night in Stu Macher’s house. When you ended your story with your pregnancy, she smiled.

“Even though he’s gone there is still a part of him with us. There is still something important I have to do, but after that I will take care of you and the little one and support the both of you in any way possible. I promise, sweetie.”

As it turned out, the important thing she had to do was to kill Sidney. The target on your back you thought had disappeared returned with Gale Weather’s second book. Again, you were harassed and threatened until you couldn’t take it anymore and you moved away. It got harder each time since you were in the last stages of pregnancy. It hurt thinking about it, but you would never put your baby into a life like this. So you did what you thought was right.

Your sister was more than happy to take her in. Christina would inherit their family’s home and would be able to raise your daughter — now your niece — safely.

Snapping out of your thoughts you continued, “Back then I was at the lowest point in my life and out of all people Sidney was the one who got me back on track. My mom and dad, your grandparents, must have asked her to come over to talk to me. I actually thought she would just turn around and walk away when she saw my room, considering it was crammed with Billy's stuff. He was in every corner of it, the man who killed her mother and almost killed her. She should be the one staying in bed, crying until she passed out. After all she’s the one who survived all that traumatic shit. ”

“Sidney visited you?”

You huffed. “Of course she did. I was her best friend. Randy and I were the only survivors out of our friend group. He and Sidney were the only ones who still treated me like a normal human being.” You shrugged. “Anyways. Sidney was there for me. At first I wasn't sure if I even wanted to see her. Inside, I knew she had no choice but to kill Billy, but I still held a grudge against her. I was afraid I would take all my anger and sadness out on her. But the second she put her arms around me, all negative thoughts disappeared and I realized how much I needed my best friend at that moment. She got me out of bed, made me go to see a therapist and kept reminding me of you, Sam.” You looked at your daughter. “I couldn’t allow myself to be selfish. I had to think of your well-being, too.”

Sam nodded in understanding and then looked around the room. “I… I'll go check on Tara.” It looked like she wanted to add something, but she apparently she couldn't find the right words.

You gave her a sanguinely smile. “You do that. When this is all over, I promise you that we can talk about everything in peace and I will answer any question you might have. Only if you want, of course.”

“I’d like that.” Sam said before turning around to go looking for her sister.

You watched her until she disappeared from your sight and turned back to Billy's costume. It didn’t even look that scary from your point of view — which might have been due to the lack of a mask — but almost 30 years ago you had thought of it differently. You looked to the Ghostface costume on the right, your eyes slowly dragging down the black fabric until they reached the name tag.

Stu.

You looked up again, scrutinizing the whole look.

You remember the first and only time you were face to face with it. Your parents were on a once-in-a-blue-moon date in a nice restaurant, leaving you alone for a few hours. They only had been out of the house for 30 minutes when you got the infamous call. You skipped to the living room, letting you dinner heat up in the microwave, and picked up.

“Hello?”

“Hello.”

“Yes?”

“Am I talking to (Y/N)?”

“Yeah. Who is this?”

“You could say a secret admirer.”

“Oh yeah? Well I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I have boyfriend whom I love very much.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah.” You giggled, lazily playing with the phone cord.

“That’s a shame, really. In that little dress you look like a girl a guy would kill for.”

The smile completely disappeared from your face as you turned to every window the living room possessed.

“What?”

It felt like someone had punched you in the gut, knocking all the air out of your lungs. You abruptly remember the things Sidney had told you about what happened that night when she was attacked — the smooth male voice, the things he said that gave her the chills, him in a black robe and a white ghost mask, trying to kill her.

Before you could think twice you slammed the telephone handle on the hook.

“Okay, okay. Just relax. Just some weirdo trying to scare you. It doesn't necessarily have to be-”

You shrieked when the doorbell rang.

“Jesus.” With a hand pressed against your chest, you walked to the door. “Who’s there?”

No answer.

“Billy, is that you?”

There was no other possibility than him, considering you casually mentioned to him that your parents weren’t home with a mischievous smirk on your lips. This time he wouldn’t have to sneak through your window. You were just opening the door, pondering whether you should tell him about the weird call or not, when you were met with a white ghost mask.

Screaming, you slammed the door shut and locked it. You could hear his body colliding with the door, kicking against it, trying to open it. You didn’t even think about waiting for him to successfully gain access and ran up to your room. You locked the door of your room too before grabbing your cell phone and dialing Billy’s number.

“Billy, please. Billy, please. Pick up, please.”

You ran to the window that was facing Billy’s. His room was completely dark.

You let out a whimper. “Come on, Billy, please. Please pick up.” Tears streamed down your face. When you heard the door slam against the wall downstairs, you clamped a hand over your mouth to stifle a scream.

“(Y/N)?”

Relief washed over you. You swirled around, seeing Billy standing at his window with his phone pressed against his ear.

“Billy…” You tried to control your breath. “T-There is someone in the house… the killer. He is wearing the mask Sidney told us about. He is… He is…”

You watched your boyfriend disappear, presumably running out of his room to get to you.

“It’s okay, baby. Is your door locked?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“Okay, good. Push your dresser in front of the door and hide in the closet. Stay there until I tell you it’s safe. I’m coming, baby, you hear me?”

You heard him skipping down the stairs, listened to his reassuring words.

“I-I’m scared, Billy. I don’t want t-to die.”

“You won’t, I promise you. Just do what I told you. Now!”

Nodding, you ran to your dresser and pushed against it with your whole body weight until it was in front of your door. Next you ran to your closet, pulled open the door, closed it and crouched in a corner far back against the wall.

“I’m in the closet.” You whispered and when you got no answer you added, “Billy? Bill-”

You were interrupted by a loud “Hey!” and something that sounded like fighting noises. Whimpering you fought with yourself — on the one hand you wanted to disobey Billy’s wishes and help him out of concern that the killer might hurt him; on the other hand you wanted to do what he told you and stay hidden.

Meanwhile, Billy was seething as he grabbed his best friend by his collar and forcefully pushed him against the wall in the narrow floor leading to your room. He pulled down the mask and revealed Stu’s jolly face.

“What the fuck did I tell you, huh? (Y/N) is off-limits!” Billy whisper-yelled, pulling Stu lightly to himself before slamming him hard against the wall, not releasing his grip.

Stu groaned. “I just wanted to scare her a little. I thought it would be funny.”

If he weren't Billy’s best friend and if they didn't have big plans ahead of themselves, Billy would have strangled him by now. He tried to channel his rage and took a deep breath before saying, “Listen, dipshit. She. Is. Off. Limits! Killing your ex? I’m in. Her new boy toy? No problem. But keep your fucking hands off of her or I’ll cut your fingers off one by one and push them down your throat, got it?”

Stu gulped and nodded, his big smile morphing into a smaller one. He wasn’t scared of Billy, but Stu had to admit that there were some moments when his aggressions got worrisome.

“Now get out!” Billy hissed and let go of Stu. He waited a moment before knocking on your door.

“(Y/N), it’s me. It’s okay, he’s gone.”

There was shuffling behind the door and a minute later you ripped it open and flung yourself into his arms. Billy was shushing you, caressing your back while listening to you crying. “It’s okay, I’m here.” He kept saying.

When your breathing calmed down, he pulled away from you and placed his hands on both of your cheeks while looking deep into your eyes.

“You’re stupid, you know that?” You mumbled, “Without thinking you ran into a house with a killer in it.”

“The only thing I could think in that moment was you.”

You slightly shook your head with a small smile. “You’re so cheesy.”

Billy huffed a laugh before turning serious again. “Are you hurt?”

“No. I was fast enough to close the door, ran upstairs, lock my door and hide in the closet just as you told me. There won’t even be bruise.”

“Good.” He nodded and kissed you forehead. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

You, of course, had no idea what happened that evening outside of your room. You didn’t know about the lengths he would go for you to keep you safe. You didn’t know he would have killed for you. You didn’t know that Billy’s feelings and his love for you were genuine, something you truly questioned after the things Sidney had told you about that night. You didn’t know that he felt scared when he realized that his plan was failing and he maybe wouldn't be able to see you again. You didn’t know that you were his last thought before he was shot in the head.

#scream #scream 6 #billy loomis x female reader #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis x you #ghostface x reader #ghostface x you #scream movies

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infectedbride · 11 months

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i had three fic ideas. wrote one. i still have three fic ideas. this is not how math is supposed to work.

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infectedbride · 11 months

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HONESTLY 😭

me @ y/n when they do something i’d never do:

like babe this isn’t us ?? get it together

#the secondhand embarrassment is real #joel miller x reader #din djarin x reader #spencer reid x reader #real #honestly its so embarrassing #like get it together ‼️ this isnt us

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infectedbride · 11 months

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OH MY GODDD??????!!!!

Selfish

Pairing; Yandere Leon Kennedy x reader

Synopsis; You escape your captor during one of his many missions. You stop by a diner searching for help. What will happen next? Find out by reading

Word count; 3.8K

TW; Kidnapping, non-con touching, Stockholm syndrome, maybe just a tad bit ooc, Yandere (obviously), obsessive behavior, cussing.

Notes; hopefully you enjoy reading. It’s not the best since I’m still maturing as a writer and because of my hiatus; but I hope you enjoy.

!Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!

Sapphire-embellished twilight transitions into dawn’s light blue hue bringing alongside the sun. Birds sang good morning to one another, on their side of the forest. You ambled down the road that ceased the strong odored forest from connecting.

You stared at the endless road up ahead. Night to morning, ahead of you was forest and road. Perhaps this reason is why your captor moved into the isolated forest since raccoon city incident.

Or maybe he wanted to live a life of normalcy given the opportunity; the monsters he claimed he fought, seemingly every month, stressed him greatly and you noticed. Plus, he mentioned he needed a vacation frequently.

You pause, double-checking onward on the ostensibly never-ending road. Was your hard work a waste of time?

Looking back on the way he treated you, you pondered if it would have been smarter to stay home. Most days he wasn't overbearing. Once in a while, he’d annoy you, other than that he was tolerable. Besides being unable to leave the house unattended and having no say in choices at times, he gave you more freedom than most.

But then you remember the day before. At the crack of dawn, he’d left for a mission: bidding you goodbye with a note and breakfast at your night table side. You were left all alone, so naturally you sought a form of entertainment.

The television; Which was your only option.

You were clicking through the television channels when you came across a crime documentary. The story was similar to your personal life so you continued to watch the channel.

The story was about a woman, age twenty-three, who was kidnapped for around four years. During her kidnapping, she fell deeply in love with her kidnapper to the point they had to detach her from the cop car when they arrested him.

In your situation, you’ve been abducted for at least eight months. Her situation only took a year till she developed Stockholm syndrome.

Clarified by the show as the psychological condition of a victim who identifies with and empathizes with their captor or abuser and their goals.

Learning this information a thought came to mind.

Would you become like her once it hits New Year's? Loyal to a man that took you away from society. No. You refused to allow the same situation to happen to you.

You’d never allow it to happen.

When it came to the relationship your captor so desperately longed for with you, you caused many difficulties to prevent any form of romance.

Any attempt at affection had him pushed away or smacked. Discussion about the past before your absconding was simply ignored. And in general, you kept your distance from him. Well, at least you tried to. He stays at your hip like a lost puppy majority of the time he has off work, talking your ear off. There was no way in hell you’d fall for him. Not after the months you spent in that isolated house.

Regardless of how certain you were, you mulled over it some more. You finally concluded running. So far, you felt regret and relief.

Out of nowhere, a loud reverberating sound of a car grew closer, arising behind you. You quickly spun around to see what the sound originated from.

The engine growled, sending a ping of fright to your heart. You spent no time thinking about Leon’s reaction to your escape. However, now your mind consumes thoughts of his response.

Could your captor's fury be so robust that the car in the distance embodied his rage? Knowing him since your best friend introduced you to the man becoming a rookie cop in raccoon city; you’ve never seen him enrage.

From time to time his witty replies and mean scowl would showcase his anger. Of course, that didn't mean his rage wasn't feasible. But never had you ever witnessed a stronger emotion from him.

Inching closer, you were able to discern the details of the car. It was a massive black car, with tinted windows. A car your captor might arrive home with after a mission. It announced its presence with its vociferous roaring.

You observe with dread blooming in the pit of your stomach, every other part of your body tingled.

Although the person driving the car was yet to be revealed, you were petrified, stuck in place like you had been glued onto the concrete below you.

It must be him.

Why else would they be heading so fast toward you?

Already, you’re willing to surrender. Your captor is a forgiving person when it comes to you, so there’s a likelihood he’ll forgive you if you cooperate.

Standing on the side of the road, you acquiescently wait for the car to stop. Waiting for him to take you back to your prison.

The car slows but even then it's at a fast pace. The car passes you momentarily. Slightly it reverses until the passenger window is in front of you. Unhurriedly, the shadowy window rolls down. In the driver's seat, instead of who you believed it to be, it was a woman.

She looked to be in her middle thirties. She wore black sunglasses in her strawberry-blonde hair, a red blouse with denim jeans. Her makeup reminded you of Jennifer Tilly in Bride of Chucky, but she wore a sweet smile.

“Oh my lord, are you alright darling?” The woman asked like you were a child outside without a jacket in the freezing winter.

You continued to stare at her. You wanted to say something, but your throat felt drier than sandpaper. You opened your mouth, wheezing a bit as you sipped the fresh air. “I don't know,” you responded as loud as you possibly could. So barely above a whisper.

“Do you know where you are?”

“No.”

“Are you safe?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

The woman shook her head disapprovingly, then she began to throw whatever laid in the passenger seat into the backseats. “Come on sugar, get inside. I’ll give you a ride.”

“Okay, thank you.”

She reached over and pushed the passenger door open. You entered the vehicle, settled in, and got comfy. You buckled in making sure you heard the reassuring click.

“There you go,” she commented with a smile. “Now, we're going to make a stop by a gas station, then we’ll find out what we can do with you. Is that alright?

You smiled back, “Yeah, I don't mind.”

The car began to ride forward and the air conditioning blew on your overheated body. You relished the cold air. You hadn't realized how hot it had been outside, even in the early morning. Where were you?

You put that thought aside. Now you needed to worry about something to drink and eat.

“Do you…have anything to drink or eat?” you glanced at the woman.

She nodded. “Of course sweety! Why didn't I offer before?” she looked away from the street to grab a half-empty bottle of water from the side of the driver's door. “Sorry, that's the only drink I have at the moment.” she apologizes.

Without a second thought, you unscrewed the cap off the water and chugged the water. Water had never tasted so refreshing before. It was like you’d been roaming in the desert for hours on end and finally found a source of water.

The woman glances at you. You must have looked crazy. “How long have you been out there?”

“Since eight last night.” You sounded better. No more raspy voice that hurts you to speak. “I should have packed a bag but something came up.”

Before you left the house last night, you weren't in your right mind. Your captor never gave you an exact time he’d be home. His return ranged between the eight at night, the dead of night, the crack of dawn, or the morning. Recently, he’d been arriving home at eight. Which is the reason you left with nothing. Looking back, you had no confidence in yourself at getting away. You believed you were going to be caught in a matter of ten minutes. Now look at you.

You turned to the woman, “Thanks…” She finishes the sentence with her name. “Amanda.” You nod rephrasing your sentence, “Thanks Amanda for picking me up.”

Amanda smiles again, this time wider showing off her pearly white teeth. “I couldn't just leave you out there. Now, what’s your name?”

You tell her your name and hope she somehow knows it. Maybe the news reported you missing when you weren’t watching. You hoped so.

Rather than freaking out, realizing she had found a missing person, she simply responded with a “nice to meet you.” You died a little at the rejoinder.

Did no one care enough to report your absence? Not your family or close friends, no one attempted to reach out to the police?

No. You’re just overthinking. Not everyone watches the news or actively looks for missing people. You just had to be around more people. Someone was bound to know your identity.

Still, you can’t ignore the way your hands shake at the thought of being forgotten.

“So what were you out there for? If you don’t mind sharing that is.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. What were you to say? Tell her the truth and find out she was with your captor the whole time or keep your mouth shut and have no help in case he does find you.

A white lie would help.

“Escaping my abusive boyfriend.”

A frown pulled at the woman’s plump lips, her eyebrows scrunching together at your answer. “Do I need to the cops, family members?”

“No,” you responded quickly and harshly. The car fell silent. You took a small breather before speaking. “No, thank you.”

“Please, tell me, is there anything else I can do to help you any further?”

You needed cash, shelter, and a job. There was only one thing you were sure she could help you with. “ I need money and a hotel.”

“Don't worry, I got you covered,” she said softly.

The car began to slow when she placed her foot on the break. She turned the car and moved into a spot that contained a combination of a gas station and an old fashion diner. She parked the car next to a gas pump, then powered it off.

She dug into the middle counsel, pushing around pens and important items, and pulled out a pink wallet. She unzipped the front zipper and pulled out some money.

Amanda held the cash out to you, “Here’s 100 dollars. There's enough for lasting food, a hotel to stay, and a bus.”

You unbuckle your seatbelt just to hug her tightly. “Thank you!” you repeat over and over, like an unanswered prayer. She returned the hug, telling you she didn't mind lending you some service. The hug ended and you needed to plan your next move. What would you spend your money on first?

Well, all you knew was what you’d spend what was given to you on something important.

You looked out the window. Your eyes shift toward the diner. Mo’s dinner was on the sign, “been here since the ’50s.” which was written below.

Right. Food. You haven't eaten since yesterday. Walking as long as you did, you tried to forget your hunger and focus on the main goal of finding shelter or at least some safety.

“I think I’ll have myself a hot breakfast!” you announced. Amanda unlocked the passenger door, “go right ahead. Enjoy your freedom.” You nod, fleeing the car akin to a little kid whose mother gave them money for an ice cream from the ice cream truck.

The entrance bell chimes when you open the door to the cream-colored establishment. Once inside, you settled yourself in a booth in the far back. An old jukebox plays aged music ranging from the 70s to the ’50. Besides you, there was a single person in the restaurant. A man at the bar sipping his morning coffee whilst reading the newspaper.

You extend your arm over to the menu across the table. The menu displays numerous appetizing dishes, varying from breakfast to a juicy steak dinner.

Flipping the page your eyes landed on a mouthwatering breakfast sandwich, including bacon, egg, and cheese.

“Hello ma’am, I’m Stephanie, I’ll be serving you this morning. What would you like?”

You placed the menu aside to give the waitress your whole attention. The woman was of average height, wearing a pink uniform that reminded you of the 50s. She wore a smile that did not reach her black doe eyes. “Did you hear any of that?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” you said sincerely, feeling anxious about possibly pissing her off. “Could I have a number six and a sweet tea?”

“Of course, is that it?”

“Umm…yeah, that’s it.”

“Alright then,” she replied disinterestedly. She left quickly, retreating to the kitchen.

You continue gazing at the closed door to the kitchen. What else could you do? You should have brought along something to entertain you, then again there wasn't much back at the house you called a jail cell. For the remainder of the waiting duration, you’d have your thoughts to amuse your lethargy.

Ding Ding

Instinctively, your head turned. 50s music began to fade, superseded by the loud thumping of your heart. Your breathing became shaky, parallel to your hands. Dirty blonde hair is what you see first. It’s him! You repeat in your head, like a religious prayer.

“Jessica, hey!” you heard a joyous exclamation. You watch as the man from the bar rushes over to the person entering the restaurant. Your anxiety left as quickly as it came. A hand places itself onto your cheat, and on the spot your heart thumped rapidly. You had to calm down. You took deep breaths, and your heart slowed with each sip of air. You rest your head on the table.

After taking the time to calm yourself, you analyzed the restaurant furthermore. Now, the place was vacant, since the man had left. Fifteen minutes passed and you found a newspaper from the newspaper rack adjacent to the front entrance.

Nothing in the article was new to you. At your captor’s home, you watched the news almost once a week to see if anyone had reported your disappearance. Nothing ever came up though. At least you were up to date with everything going on.

Your waitress finally returned, carrying your meal on a maroon-colored tray in her left hand. “Sorry for the wait, ma’am. Kitchen malfunction.” she apologized, giving you a guileless smile. This would be the only expression besides tedium that you’d receive from her.

“It's alright,” you said, watching as she placed the food on the table for you to dig into. She left carrying the tray back to the kitchen she emerged from.

You took a bite of the sandwich, chewing slowly to savor the flavor. Juicy and delicious are solely vivid words to illustrate the taste. The egg had a spongy texture that combines well with melted cheese. And the hickory bacon wasn’t too crispy or chewy, it was simply perfect.

Back at the prison, your captor wasn't the best cook. But he tried to be for you. Still, you preferred takeout. Chinese, Italian, and burgers began to become a boring taste on your taste buds. Having a breakfast sandwich was refreshing, to say the least.

“Enjoying your meal, huh?” rough voice inquiries. The question was said cockily but their wrath was audible in the way the last word was spoken.

You stop mid-chew, the overwhelming flavor vanishing from your mind. It now tasted bland. You kept your eyes shut. Were you afraid? No. Afraid couldn't explain the ineffable amount of dread you felt at the moment. Ruffling could be heard on the opposite side of the table; He was sitting down. Your eyes open involuntarily like your body already knew what he wanted it to do.

Across the table, seating snugly is your captor; Leon Kennedy. He looks rougher than the last time you’ve spoken. The dark circle underneath his eye has grown darker. His brunette roots have begun peaking out ruining his natural blonde facade. And he looked exhausted. Must have stayed up all night looking for you.

He looked more than pissed. He appeared disgruntled. Compared to Leon, you were small. But now, Leon was like a giant towering over you. Despite never abusing you in any shape or form, your body shakes like a leaf in the wind. The way he glares down at you drives you to shift uncomfortably in your seat.

“Do you know how long I've been up for, y/n?” he asks whilst pulling out a flask from his jacket pocket.

Regardless of how parched you are, you force yourself to converse with him. “No,” you're voice is brisk and faint.

“Two days. For two days I’ve been on my feet.” He takes a swig of the flask and then continues to rant. “I could have joined you in bed and fallen asleep, but there was a problem. You weren't anywhere.”

He shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What the hell is the matter with you? You could have gotten hurt. You probably are.”

Leon is getting angrier, you can tell by the way the furrowed eyebrows deepen and his frown morphs into a glower, as he utters each sentence.

“I’m sorry.” That's all you can say. It's all that comes to mind.

“Sorry won’t make up for the scars you've gotten.” he retorts angrily.

Now you're mirroring his expression. You’re angry and tired as well. Definitely not as tired as him but still tired. “You’re acting as if I didn't have a good reason to run.” you petulantly cross your arms, akin to a child not getting a toy from the store.

Leon wasn’t delusional. Back in the day, when he was a rookie cop, in some aspects he was delusional. However, as the years continue to pass so does his past self. Leon understands what he has done to you is inhumane, but he can’t help it. He kept you locked away for a reason. You won’t get hurt with him by your side.

Leon sighs, closing his eyes and leaning closer with his forearms on the table. “I know, I know.”

You tilt your head, “really? So, why are you mad at me?”

His eyes open, displaying icy-blue orbs. They hold Empathy in them. Empathy Leon has a difficult time communicating to you.

“I keep you in the house for your safety.” He began, taking your hands into his own. “To keep our relationship safe.”

“But I don’t want a relationship with you.”

“I know.”

“So why are you forcing me to stay with you?!”

Leon’s hands squeezed yours, provoking a cry out of you. “All my life I’ve been a generous man. I saved many and gave up my life for others. I’m always providing for someone else and rarely caring for myself. And the one thing I yearn for to the point I was convinced I deserved it. It was you.”

For a beat, he ceases his gabbing. Leon stares down at your connected hands, his thumb starts rubbing against the back of your hand. It’s a domestic act that earns your displeasure.

“For once, allow me to be selfish,” he mumbles, eyes slowly trailing up to meet yours. His lips press your hand, giving it a chaste kiss. “You’re the only thing I’ll fight to keep for myself.”

Part of you wishes the relationship was normal. Leon truly did care for you, and you still cared for him, But he did something unforgiving. He took away your free will.

“...you can’t just steal a person, Leon. You can’t expect me to love you.”

“I don’t.”

“So why won’t you let me go? You still have Ada, don’t you? You were more into her than me. Why isn’t she in my position?”

“Because I love you, not her. You haven't betrayed me. Well, not until now.” he jokes, letting out a faint chuckle.

Leon pulls out his wallet, his fingers sliding through the pockets to find his card. “Wrap your food up. We’re leaving.” he puts his wallet back in his back pocket, “Be right back. Stay here.” he commanded sternly.

The waitress is at the bar, cleaning the counter with a blue rag. Leon approaches her with an “Excuse me.”

Leon put too much faith in you because you were on your feet immediately when his back was turned. You quietly inched towards the door and ever so slowly dragged the door inwards. Leon was distracted, the waitress deciding she’d flirt with him despite seeing you and him together. You manage to slip through the door before Leon notices your second escape attempt.

You bolt out the door when you hear the enraged roar of your name from behind. You grip the railing to the stairs, running down them, tripping a couple of times. You don’t look but you know Leon’s on your tail. The door slams against the wall, the bell ringing loudly.

“Y/n, get back here!”

Amanda’s car was still parked by the gas pump. You sprint towards it, slipping through the tight space of the car and the gas pump. Luckily for you, Amanda was in the car, applying her strawberry-pink lipstick.

“Amanda!” you shout, startling her enough that she drags the lipstick across her cheek. She shouts, frightened by your sudden appearance. She looks at you, like you're crazy. She says your name to clarify the person at her window, “What are you doing.”

You shake your head, “yo-you gotta help me, he-” you say breathlessly.

“Hey, Amanda.” you hear Leon’s voice call out. Unlike you, he isn’t out of breath. Thanks to his military training. Amanda peeks her head out the window, she smiles waving at Leon. “Hey, Lee!”

Your eyes widen till it’s physically impossible to widen anymore. She knows Leon. Your body feels numb as you watch them interact like old friends. You feel like you aren’t real at the moment. Like you're watching the scene unfold outside your body.

“Sorry, she just came back from the hospital. She isn’t in her right mind right now.” Leon excuses, leading you to his car like a shepherd's dog guiding the sheep to its pen.

Amanda nods as she understands completely. “No worries, I’m just glad I found her before she hurt herself.”

Leon puts you in the passenger seat and closes the vehicle door. The keys lock the door from the inside, so you are left choiceless.

Leon joins you in the driver’s seat, definitely too angered to chide you. He seethed quietly, powering on the engine with the quick twist of the car keys.

Wordlessly, you buckle up. You wouldn’t make an endeavor to anger Leon any further.

You’d allow him to be selfish. Allow him to have you.

What other option did you have now?

#Leon Kennedy x reader #Leon Kennedy #yandere resident evil #resident evil 4 #resident evil #yandere leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #yandere writing

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infectedbride · 1 year

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I'm flabbergasted, speechless, delusional everything and more...

ok i know we have perv ellie and innocent reader meeting after the outbreak BUT imagine them knowing each other before and getting separated when it all started happening and not finding each other until years later. i think ellie would be the most unhinged psychotic killer because her pretty girl is missing

anon this has been on my mind so bad… idek what this is i jus have so much to say abt this concept!!!

i think ellie would fall into a complete obsession, like very santa barbara els. she doesn’t care how many people she has to kill off in order to find you, and she actually enjoys it since it offers her some relief from the constant ache she feels since you aren’t by her side.

she frequents areas that she thinks you might be, scoping out each place for days on end to make sure she doesn’t miss you.

ellie keeps a little picture of you in her backpack and she always shows it to any person she is about to kill to see if they have any information on your whereabouts.

౨ৎ

she was fucking pissed after some asshole had snuck up on her and dug their knife into the soft flesh of her arm. even in this moment of blinding pain, all she could think of was you. her pain dissipated at the thought of your delicate features that she hadn’t seen since the outbreak, her face twisting into an impossibly furious expression.

in no time at all she was back up, using the back of her pistol to break her assailants nose. she caught the man completely off guard, as he would’ve expected that she wouldn’t have recovered from her injury so quickly.

he was left reeling, trying to reach for his knife once more but his motions were put to a stop when ellie wrapped her arm around his neck so that his back was pressed against her chest, the cool steel of her pistol digging into his temple.

“shut the fuck up or i swear to god, i’ll blow your fuckin’ brains out” she warned, shallow breaths leaving her lips as she tried to ignore the blossoming pain that seemed to be spreading with each passing moment.

ellie was not impressed with his suffocated apologies, scoffing at how useless this guy was. she only lowered her weapon so she could grab your picture from her pocket, almost thankful that she had been staring at it earlier in the day since it was now easier for her to grab.

she held the picture in front of his face, her grip on the man only tightening as he tried to shove her off. “will you stop fucking moving already?” she questioned in a dark tone, already irritated beyond belief.

“look, look at the god damn picture” she demanded, keeping her hold on the small picture as tight as possible so he could see it clearly. “you seen her around before? and— fuck, stop moving! if you tell me where she is, i’ll let your sorry ass go” she was almost shouting, her voice raspy from the scream she had let out when she was first stabbed.

the man paused for a moment before responding, never once following ellie’s orders to stop moving. “how the fuck should i know where that bitch is—” he began, only for ellie to slip the picture back into her pocket within a second and pressing her pistol to the side of his head once more. before he could try to apologize, a loud bang echoed throughout the area and his body dropped to the floor the moment ellie’s grip loosened.

she would kill anyone who got in her way and she would not tolerate anyone who spoke poorly of you.

౨ৎ

once ellie is finally reunited with you, she is almost positive she is hallucinating the whole thing. she finds you in a spot she has scoped out countless times and she refuses to believe that she hadn’t seen you before.

she momentarily didn’t recognize you, the little bruises littering your soft skin making her grip her switchblade a bit tighter.

you had spotted her from where you were settled in the empty building you had been staying in, backing into the corner as you pleaded with her not to come any closer.

ellie could feel her heart ache at the sight of you, the startling realization that you were scared of her making her nauseous. she looked down at her clothes, realizing almost every inch of her was covered in fresh blood from the people she killed when she was ambushed earlier in the morning.

she is quick to slip her switchblade into her back pocket, her heart beating against her chest so harshly that she could hear it.

“princess, s’ me. it’s just me— oh god. please, i’m not going to hurt you” she pleads, holding her hands out in front of her as if she was surrendering.

you seemed hesitant, still pushing yourself back against the wall as she came closer to you. once she spoke you narrowed your eyes a bit, focusing on the freckles that seemed all too familiar to you.

ellie could hear your breath hitch in your throat, your doe eyes filling with tears as you looked up at her. “ellie” was all you could whisper, your voice shaky and unsure as you stood up.

a sigh of relief left ellie’s lips once you finally recognized her, not even giving you a chance to take her in before she was wrapping you in a suffocating embrace.

you were holding onto her like she would disappear from you at any moment, as if this were all some heart breaking dream that you would wake up from eventually.

but she was here. after everything, she was here.

ellie’s embrace made it hard to breathe but you couldn’t care less, small hiccups leaving your lips as you sobbed against her chest.

it was all too easy to fall back into routine with ellie, her bruising touch making your heart flutter because it was proof that she loves you.

“thought— thought you were gone. i tried to find you everyday and nothing worked. m’ just so sorry” you babbled, not taking notice of the crimson liquid that was seeping from ellie’s clothes into your own.

ellie was quick to shush your apologies, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before taking in your bruised complexion with a worried gaze.

“shh, sh, there is absolutely nothing to be sorry for. you were such a brave girl, so proud of you” she reassured, her thumb gently running along your cheek in a soothing manner. “missed you so much, baby. i’m sorry i couldn’t keep you safe”.

౨ৎ

ellie is immediately questioning you about the bruises, still using a gentle tone with you to ensure she doesn’t get you too worked up.

and you are all too eager to tell her, not hesitating to give her the information she needed. it felt so natural to let ellie take control, the quiet fuzziness returning to your mind that had been gone for so long.

when you told ellie you had been traveling with a group and they were the ones who had done it, her brows were already furrowing with an anger that you had never seen before.

ellie is muttering under her breath about how ‘those fuckers are gonna get whats coming to them’ but you can’t even hear her, too focused on how comforting it felt to have her fingers interlaced with your own.

she keeps you close to her side as you direct her on where they are and she praises you endlessly for giving up their whereabouts, the grip she had on you only tightening as you walked together.

as soon as ellie spots them, she is putting the silencer over her pistol so that she can take them out one by one.

“can you cover your ears for me, baby?” she questions in a gentle tone despite what she was about to do, not wanting the sounds of all the gunfire and shouting to startle you.

and of course, you comply. with your hands clasped over your ears, you follow her as she wipes out every last person who had mistreated you in an effortless manner.

maybe you should’ve been worried for your own safety but you were already too far gone, letting ellie ease you back into the dazed state that felt too comforting to leave behind.

ellie’s need for revenge is satiated for the time being and now she will be able to take care of you like she always wanted to.

she’ll find you a little home to share with her, and she is never going to let you out of her sight again.

you’ll never have to worry about anything ever again, as ellie will be there to take care of everything so that your pretty little head is only filled with thoughts of her.

#dark! ellie williams #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams prompt #ellie williams hcs #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams x reader

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