⋆ i only have a "masterlist" on my private discord server. all works will be tagged accordingly with both the characters and the fandoms. feel free to browse their tags on my blog. ⋆
what i will write: pretty much anything, ranging from fluff to angst to anything dark and twisted. i'm a big fan of yanderes, so i'm happy to write those. yes, incest included. i mostly do x reader fics, but i'm down to try certain ships. might throw in some self indulgent oc ships. also, i'm very queer, so i'm totally down for queer stuff.
what i will not write: scat, it overwhelms me, unfortunately. also, i won't write anything explicit involving children, but there might be implications with certain characters (such as the grabber or freddy krueger). anything sexual with animals is also a no. anyone else's ocs, i do not trust myself to do them justice. same with furries, therians, etc.
about the reader-insert: i am more fem-leaning in terms of gender, which can reflect on my reader-insert unintentionally. the intention with my reader-insert is gender-neutral unless otherwise specified.
the forms: i mostly write headcanons and oneshots, but if i like an idea enough, i might turn it into series.
Warnings and tags: pre-canon. established relationship. toxic relationship. knives. emotional manipulation. threats. technically blackmail. forehead kiss. mentions of fanfiction. mentions of one direction. usage of korean terms of endearment. character x reader. written in second pov. you/your pronouns used for reader. gender-neutral reader. reader has long hair. 1,7k words. based on this joke post. originally written for @leonkennedycatboy.
In your defense, you still considered it absolutely fucking hilarious. It was just that your darling boyfriend didn't agree with your idea of funny and was now holding one of his throwing knives to your throat with a half amused, half irritated expression. And even now, he still looked good. Handsome men be damned.
But how did you even get into this situation in the first place? Well, it was a matter of two things.
The first thing was, you were dating Ji-woon, known also as the Trickster. The Trickster. The k-pop idol. In secret, of course, because k-pop fans were absolutely terrifying sometimes, but hey, a secret boyfriend is better than no boyfriend at all, right? Except when he was a secret boyfriend because he already had another partner, but unless his work as a musician counted as his wife, you were absolutely in the clear that you were his one and only.
The second thing? Now, that was the fun part. Not that dating Ji-woon was not fun, of course, but it was, at least to you, the less fun part of it all. Because the best part was the little prank you tried to pull on him. Well, you did succeed, just… didn't expect him to react like that.
The idea was born during a visit to your friend. Ji-woon was touring, anyway, so you stayed the weekend at a close friend's house in Busan. Not like it was far, it just under three hours by train.
That particular friend, which you've known for ages now and trusted with your life. She was one of the few that knew about your boyfriend being who he was. Most of your friends just assumed you were single and not particularly interested in romance, but they mostly left you alone except for some occasional teasing, which you've just learned to ignore. But! This friend knew.
And as sleepovers go, you two ended up reading some old, silly fanfiction… and then you swore you saw a light bulb just light up above her head like in one of those old cartoons. While you were over exaggerating the British accents while reading one of those classic One Direction fanfics (the where the main character was nonchalantly reading a book during a concert, not the one where they got sold to the band), she declared she had a brilliant idea.
You should do that at one of Ji-woon's concerts to see his reaction. That was the idea. And with the few fruity drinks you two had, in that moment, the idea sounded like the funniest shit imaginable. You ended up video calling your darling partner that same night right after he finished that night's concert. It took a lot of puppy-dog eyes and convincing, but he eventually agreed to get you and your friend a VIP spot right by the stage for his concert in Busan. After he warned you about seventeen times to not do anything that would make people realize you two were together.
But, of course, even after sobering up, you still thought it would be funny to go through with the plan. You even went thrifting for the most overly casual, comfortable, to-be-worn-only-at-home clothing. You got your hair done (if putting it in a high effort messy bun could be called that) and after looking through your friend's bookshelf, picked the smartest sounding book there, just to go all out on the role.
You naively assumed Ji-woon would fine it as absurdly hilarious as you did. The way you stood in the front row, by the very stage, completely ignoring everything going on around you and pretending to read instead (it was too loud to focus on actually reading the book). You thought you'd both laugh it off later.
As you can probably guess from your current position, you were wrong. Very wrong. Because the moment Ji-woon got off stage, he texted you to come meet him. You have made the silly assumption that it was just to laugh about it. The staff gave you no issue, but as soon as you entered the room Ji-woon was in, you got grabbed and dragged in before your back hit the closet his colorful stage clothes were currently in.
He was still wearing the same tight pants he had on the stage, but the jacket he would wear over his bare chest wasn't on him anymore. Instead, it was thrown over the back of the chair in front of his vanity. You could sorta see it behind him, even with how close and personal to you he currently was. Which was… well, quite literally in your face, with his body pressed to yours and the edge of one of his fancy throwing knives just barely touching your neck. Threatening, but with a hand too skilled to hurt you accidentally. Even despite the murderous glare he was currently giving you, with his bright lenses making him look almost like a predator bird. Even his hair, usually brushed back or styled perfectly, was almost messy, with singular strands sticking out, like he's dragged his fingers through them several times before losing his shit.
It was odd. It was scary. And… it was a little arousing. Probably a lot, if you weren't scared he'd actually slit your throat.
"You have exactly one chance to explain what the hell you were thinking."
That was all he said, in a terrifyingly calm tone. He almost sounded haunted or… hypnotized, or something. Whatever it was, you did not like it. You stuttered a little, trying to explain your little joke to him. When you actually said it out loud, it sounded… kinda stupid, really. But then again, it could be that dangerous little sting on the skin protecting your throat that made you reach that conclusion.
He remained unamused, barely even breathing as he watched you. His eyes were cold, so uncharacteristically cold. Ji-woon had a temper sometimes, sure, but you always assumed it was just k-pop idol-related stress that never let him catch a break. It made perfect sense he'd be stressed out and occasionally snap, so you never thought twice about it. Especially since he was always so sweet and apologetic afterwards. This time, though, it wasn't just raising his voice over something small, it was a whole knife to the throat. And not even in the kinky way this time!
The time you spent trying to explain yourself and your joke felt like it lasted hours, even if it was probably up to ten minutes at most. Probably even less, maybe even around five, but the tension made it drag on for far too long. And that whole time, you could have sworn you've only seen Ji-woon blink maybe twice at most.
Finally, he slowly took the blade away, his back straightening and his head tilting to the side. It still didn't feel human. It felt more like an owl taken from a horror movie. Slow, deliberate, calculating. Cold. He looked like a predator, calculating the perfect moment to strike.
And just when you were certain he would actually do it, he murmured just one word.
"Funny."
His tone made it clear he did not, in fact, find it funny. Not in the slightest. His voice, normally so giggly and charming, now felt empty and emotionless. Distant. He felt like a completely different person, like he's been replaced or something. He was nothing like your Ji-woon, your sweet boyfriend who would use any excuse to cuddle, who would whisper sweet nothings into your ear, who used your chest as a pillow after a particularly stressful day at the studio.
Ji-woon stared at you for a solid few seconds, filling the air with tense silence before he chuckled. It didn't feel the same as when he giggled into his pillow over something dumb you said after sex or the surprised laugh whenever you made some dumb joke out of nowhere. Sure, you've heard him chuckle before, but never like this. Never so… coldly. It was almost cinematic, in a way. He sounded like a villain would sound, as stupid as that description was. A villain enchanted by the hero, with undeniable tension that drove the fandom wild and resulted with the most delicious fanfiction about forbidden love, corruption and yearning.
You didn't really feel very heroic right now, though. You felt more like a mouse that just realized it never had a way out of the cat's grasp and that the predator was just playing with it. Cold thrills running down your back, fear and a dreadful sense of inevitability replacing any other emotion you could have currently felt. But then… it came back.
He came back.
You darling Ji-woon, with his expression changing from this weird, wicked glare back to his usual warm, slightly amused look. He put the knife away, letting it rest on the vanity as his now free hands cradled your face, thumbs gently rubbing your cheekbones. He did that a lot. A gesture that you've always found loving now terrified you even more than you've ever imagined possible.
And yet, as if nothing happened, he just tenderly pulled your face closer, giving you a sweet, loving kiss on the forehead. The kiss you've grown to know and love, to associate it with his fondness and comfort. It was as if he was trying to seal away the terror he just put you through. His lips stayed on your forehead for a while as he let out a small, happy little hum before finally moving back, still holding your face.
"Let's not play silly jokes like that again, jagiya. Alright?" He asked in that sweet, loving tone he's always been using when making all those sweet promises about evenings off just for the two of you.
"Yeah… alright…" You forced yourself into a small smile as one of his hands moved to let your hair down before going back to your cheek.
"Good. I love you." He sang out. And of course, you said it back.
It made his expression soften. It usually would. Except this time, something was wrong. From the outside, sure, it looked like all those times he's done this before. Given you a sweet little kiss, held your face…
And only from up close, you could see that the predatory glow behind those golden lenses of his never left.
He never really wanted a pet in general, since that was just extra responsibility and according to Drayton, responsibility was something Johnny was allergic to. Fortunately, Johnny didn't listen to Drayton much, so his opinion didn't really matter all that much. If at all.
And yet, there she was again. The loud, annoying little black and white cat that. Johnny heard some of the local kids give her a name, but he never bothered to learn it. He never really even planned to acknowledge the cat in the first place. It was just one of many stray animals of Newt. A few dogs. Plenty of cats. This one wasn't special. She had plenty of people toss her scraps.
Johnny himself just ignored her and all the other strays. He never went out of his way to feed or pet any animals, but he wasn't the type to kick a cat, either. It wasn't even about liking animals, it just… seemed pointless to him to kick them. Cartoonishly evil. And as sadistic and twisted as he was, Johnny took himself rather seriously. He was not some cartoon villain.
The fur ball, however, did not take Johnny seriously at all. If anything, she almost seemed to mock him at one point, with how stupidly cuddly she was. He had no idea how the damn cat kept finding him, but apparently, she did.
It started in his mother's garden. Johnny had absolutely no idea how the cat got there, Nancy lived so far from the center of Newt, she might as well live out of town. And yet, while replacing the fence around the property on his mother's request (it was one of those good days where they actually got along pretty well), Johnny heard a loud, almost entitled meow. If a meow could be entitled.
He looked around, confused. His mother had no pets. It was one of her strict rules, that no cat or dog was to ever go inside her house unless it was an absolute must. Because a pet meant not just dirty paws that they'd have to wipe every time they came back home (and Nancy could barely get Johnny to take off those goddamn boots of his sometimes), but also fur. Everywhere.
The closest she ever got to getting Johnny a pet was offering him a goldfish when he was eight, but he decided it was too boring to bother. So they both left it at that, neither really revisiting the subject.
But by some miracle, the cat was there! Sitting on the stairs to the porch, staring right up at him with those large, green eyes. Johnny wasn't sure if cats could be smug, but this cat certainly was, with her tail slowly swaying side to side.
For a few long, awkward seconds, they just stared at each other, not moving except for the swaying tail and occasional blinking from them both. Johnny stared at the cat, and the cat stared at Johnny. They were just missing one of those tumbleweeds rolling between them and it would look like a scene from some low budget western movie. Johnny remembered liking those as a kid. He wanted to be a cowboy for a solid year or two.
Apparently, this smug little cat was the nemesis he had his high noon duel with, considering it was noon. More or less. Johnny never bothered wearing a watch, so he couldn't say for certain, but he went to town for the supplies around eleven, so the the time it took to drive there, buy what he needed, drive back and bring everything outside… yeah, it could be an hour. So this could very well be a staring duel between him and the rival outlaw at high noon. Which was absolutely stupid, but surprisingly, it was not the weirdest thing Johnny's said or thought.
After a while, he awkwardly tried to wave his hand to chase the cat away. No reaction. Goddamn it.
Johnny put the hammer he was holding back in the toolbox before slowly approaching the cat. And for a man built for hunting and chasing, he moved surprisingly stiffly back then, not quite sure how to approach the animal without having it scratch him (which would be the less drastic outcome) or jumping into the house because it got startled and used the open window as its closest escape route (which would be the worst possible outcome, as it would piss off Nancy and Johnny really didn't want to deal with his mother being pissy that day).
"Hey there…" He spoke, trying not to spook the creature. Fortunately (or not), the animal stayed perfectly still, not even moving her tail anymore, letting it rest on the step she was sitting on. "You wanna piss off so we both don't get yelled at?"
It took a second, but Johnny soon realized just how stupid it was to try and talk to a stray cat like it could understand him. So instead, when he (obviously) got no response, he decided his next best move would be to try and pick the cat up and just… get it off the property. He had some vague memory of one of the mothers in town scolding her kid for trying to pick up their adult dog by the scruff, but he couldn't remember if it would be bad for cats, too.
He settled on trying to pick it up normally, one hand under the front legs and the other under the behind. Except the moment he tried that, the cat quickly jumped off the steps and moved to sit next to his toolbox instead. Johnny clicked his tongue, grimacing in irritation. Of course the fur ball was going to just get away moments before he grabbed it. And of course she would stare at him, as if daring him to try again.
He did, in fact, try again. Internally insisting it was to avoid dealing with Nancy's potential bitching and absolutely not about his ego. He could catch a cat. It was not difficult to catch a cat. He tracked and killed people all the time, a cat was nothing compared to that. It was just a dumb animal that he could catch, pick up and carry off the- oh, god fucking damn it, it got away again.
"… Asshole." He grumbled, and the cat meowed in response. "You're mockin' me? Seriously?"
As if he wasn't trying to spare them both a whooping. Well, to be fair, Nancy probably couldn't whoop Johnny much anymore, but… well, they both had scars from each other. And again, they were having a pretty decent day so far, with no bitching or arguing. And since he was in no mood for attempted matricide that day, he decided to try to catch the cat again. And it escaped. Again. With that smug little look on its face.
It took a few more attempts before Johnny got frustrated. He let out a loud groan, sitting down on the porch steps. The spot that was originally occupied by the cat. How ironic.
Apparently, the little beast took it as an invitation of some sort, because after all the chasing around the garden (which included some grumbled curses on his part), she decided now was the time to get all up in his personal space. The little thing purred about as loud as the engine on Johnny's truck as she rubbed her head, and later her side, against his leg.
"Oh, now you're gettin' all close an' personal, huh?" He scoffed, but gave into the natural urge to pet the fluffy creature next to him and awkwardly gave it a scratch behind the ear with his gloves still on. He doubted it was very satisfying through the thick material, but hey, the cat wasn't complaining. Yet. And if it was, those complaints would probably be loud enough to alert Nancy. So far, though, her cheesy ballads on the radio and the water running from the sink as she washed the dishes.
After a while, the cat decided that his lap was its next chosen spot. Johnny knew he'd end up with fur and dirt all over his pants and shirt, but honestly, for some reason, it didn't bother him as much. And while it could be that he was just used to having his clothes covered with dirt already (and blood, can't forget the blood), there was a tiny little spark in him that almost enjoyed the cat's company.
Almost.
"You're still annoying." He grumbled, giving the cat an awkward pat on the head. The cat seemed delighted, managing to purr even louder as it rubbed its smug, content little face all over his stomach. And with a dramatic sigh, Johnny left it. Just this once, he promised to himself.
He never kept that promise, by the way. Because by some miracle, the cat's visits became a routine, to the point where Johnny was starting to question whether or not the cat found some cozy spot on the property that she decided to claim as her own. If there was, the little shit was very good at staying hidden, because neither Johnny nor his mother found the smug little thing unless it wanted them to. To make it clear, that meant Johnny was seeing the cat so often, he was starting to question his own sanity, and Nancy saw the cat… never. As if the little beast knew the woman would chase it away.
And while the cat did occasionally piss him off, Johnny has learned to just live with the cat as it followed him around like a particularly entitled baby duck. One that would meow so loud it sounded like screaming whenever it wasn't given enough attention. And affection. The furry fiend was constantly starved for affection. Even when Johnny was busy with maintenance work around the property.
As the weeks passed, the cat was fully at home by Johnny's side. Gardening, fixing anything, skinning the animals he hunted (mostly deer, when it wasn't people), whatever he was doing, the cat was there, either sitting down and staring at him or rubbing against him whenever it was least convenient.
Even now, when he decided to get some sleep on the ruined couch in his shack behind Nancy's house after a whole day of physical labor around the property, the cat was there. Curled up on his stomach like they were best friends. And subconsciously, Johnny put his hand on the cat's back protectively while they slept. It was an odd sight, but a cute one. So cute, in fact, that it even managed to warm up Black Nancy's dark little heart as she put an old, thin blanket over Johnny's shirtless body, low enough for just the cat's head to stick out.
"Just don't expect me to waste any good blankets on you." Nancy grumbled, huffing at the cat before leaving her son and his furry friend alone for their nap together. As long as no fur got inside her house, perhaps she could get used to the creature. Oh, maybe it would get Johnny to finally start thinking about giving her grandbabies! God, she wished.
For now, though, she was going to have to make do with a grandchild that meowed.
It took Eddie so many tries, so, so many tries, but he did it. The surgery finally went right! Eddie finally had his bride! And oh, what a beauty she was, so sweet and fragile, so sensitive! The poor girl spent the whole ceremony in tears, no doubt overwhelmed by how beautiful Eddie's vows were. She didn't have any vows of her own, but that was alright, she didn't need vows. With all those pretty tears that fell from her face, she'd just end up stuttering, poor thing.
All that muttered was that one of her little whimpers sounded close enough to "I do" for him. That she let him put a ring on one of her pretty fingers. Sure, the ring was stolen (looted from one of the many asylum workers that have died that night, but hey, it fit! And she loved it, he knew she did!
Just how she loved when he carried her to their new bedroom and lied her down on the bed, hands exploring her body. The perfect body he helped make. Yes, she screamed in pain at first as he removed the vulgarity, she cried as he fixed her body, but now? Now, she was perfection. With soft, stitched on breasts (the ones nature gave her were rather small, they would be terrible for breastfeeding!), a tender slit and a tight hole that he had to carve out with a knife so that he could have a way into her womb, where his seed would eventually grow into their children. Many, many children, as many as she could give him.
Shy little thing, she was. Trembling and sobbing as Eddie removed the dress as if unwrapping a precious gift, one that he received from fate itself. Or maybe it was God. Whatever it was that sent her into his arms that night, he was grateful for it. And so was she, he knew she was. He could tell from those sweet little noises coming out of her mouth as he gently lifted her hips and guided her thighs so that her legs were resting against his waist. He briefly considered putting her legs over his shoulders, or maybe guiding her soft frame into a mating press, but no. This was their wedding night, his wedding night, which meant sweet, tender love making. They could experiment another time, perhaps on his darling's fertile days. They'd look for best postions to make sure her womb is filled with his seed, to make sure a life grows in the safety of her body. And then, nine months later, they'd welcome Eddie's firstborn child. A sweet, innocent creature that he would never allow anyone to harm in any way. Maybe a little girl. A tiny copy of his blushing bride, so he could make dresses for them both.
Just the thought of it all warmed his heart. God, he could almost see that precious little face, those wide, innocent eyes of his daughter, looking up at her daddy! Her daddy, who would tear the world down for her, just for a little giggle to come out of her mouth. Who would kill anyone who dared to even attempt to lay a hand on her. He would never allow anything bad to happen to his children. Never.
And it was those thoughts, those visions that would play in his head as he slowly pushed his hips forward, burying his his cock in his bride's warmth. He couldn't help but moan at how deliciously tight she was, his lips moving to smile on their own as he looked down. She was bleeding, but that was alright. It was just proof that he was her first, that his precious darling was a virgin, a woman unclaimed, waiting for him to make her his and only his. Here, on their wedding night. What a thoughtful little creature, so precious, so sweet. Waiting for the man of her dreams to deflower her, instead of whoring herself out like the rest of the ungrateful sluts Eddie had to get rid of… But she was different, she was pure. She saved herself for him.
"Oh, darling…" Eddie could feel his eyes watering at just how overwhelmed he was from the happiness he felt. The happiness and the pleasure of just how delightful she felt, how her body welcomed him. His thrusts were a little rough, yes, but he had to put in some extra effort, but he told himself that was just because her body needed to adjust to his size. Eddie wasn't exactly on the smaller side, after all.
Not once did it cross his mind that the reason it felt like that was because he was forcing his dick into a glorified stab wound. That the sloppiness he expected from the female organ was the result of the saw that cut into the flesh to recreate a "real" woman's delicate, tender genitalia. Perhaps a part of him knew. A tiny little voice in his head that would attempt to make him realize that no, this was not a bride under him, but the man he saw before being shoved into the morphogenic engine and before the chaos of the night happened.
If such voice existed, it was silenced by Eddie's delusions before it even got to utter a word. All he heard were the whimpers and cries of his bride, no doubt overwhelmed by everything. The ceremony, the closeness of his groom, the feeling of his manhood entering her for the first time, deflowering her… She was such a fragile, sensitive thing. Maybe she was bleeding a little more than he'd expect, but that was okay. Perhaps their first time happened to be the night the poor sweetheart got her period. That could be a good thing, if she knew how to count her fertile days. Eddie certainly hoped she did. He wanted their first child born by their first anniversary. And then another one by the second anniversary. One child every year. He was sure his bride would agree, once she was soothed in his arms after they were done with the consummation of their union. But that was a conversation for later.
For now, Eddie decided to indulge and enjoy himself, taking his sweet time to thoroughly claim his bride as she wept and shook under him, her womb just waiting to be filled by him. And he would, as many times as his body allowed him.
And with each time, Waylon had hoped he would just fucking die already.
⋆ richard trager (including pre-game trager) ⋆ miles upshurr ⋆ jeremy blaire ⋆ waylon park ⋆ eddie gluskin ⋆ leland coyle ⋆ franco barbi ⋆ otto and arora kress ⋆
outlast 2 will be added eventually. once i get all the fucking achievements in the first game.
