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littlenahsstuff · 1 year ago

Text

Liar

Amanda Young x Reader

Warnings: blood, gore, angst, betrayal, choking, sad with a happy ending, slow, mentions of character death, self harm, blades, anxiety, longer fic, pov shifts kinda, also it’s mainly Amanda’s pov just cuz

Summary: you find out Amanda is a serial killer the hard way, by falling into a trap she made. You survive but does your relationship?

A/n: suggestions are welcome as long as they’re nice, also not proofread

Amanda missed another one of your dates because of her job, which, you don’t know anything about. You were hoping she was just some high level agent if you were being honest. It would explain the natural muscles and bad-assery that was your girlfriend. That’s also why she keeps getting cuts and bruises you tell yourself.

You at least knew that they weren’t from self harm, they were too scattered to be from that and you can somehow tell when Amanda hides self harm scars. It’s like a sixth sense, telling when she’s in danger.

You got the feeling more than you’d like too, but it was a little different when it was caused by Amanda herself. She seems more satisfied with herself sadly.

You just want your precious girl to be happy and safe, even if it’s only been a couple of months she’s your entire world. It just kinda happened but at this point in your life Amanda was the only person you talked to other than the occasional phone call from an old friend once a year. You were just floating right now with Amanda being your rock to tie you down and you, hers.

You convinced her to go on anxiety medication. Well, she refused to get a prescription (she can’t go to the doctors after Dr. Gordon) so she kinda shares your prescription both well aware that’s not a good idea but it does seem to help her and you would do anything for her.

The downside is you aren’t taking your prescribed amount and your next appointment to try and up the dosage, so one pill does the trick for both of you when you split it in half, is months away. You yourself are falling, you can feel it. You keep telling yourself that you gotta just wait it out and take it one day at a time for Amanda.

Right now you’re driving home from work in the rainy city. Your apartment is not Amanda’s yet but what little free time she has away from work is spent there so it might as well be.

A particular bolt of lightning hits a little too close for your liking and the booming thunder after it chills you to your bone. You don’t feel so good.

You try to just focus on what’s ahead while steadying your breathing. Traffic is light on the outskirts of the city, the small complex is right on the town line in a small patch of woods next to one of the parks.

You hate outside dark, outside dark is open and anything could surround you on all sides. You run up to your floor and flick on the lights but to no avail the darkness still remains. Your stomach is tight as a knot at this point, really wishing the owner allowed candles or that you had remembered to buy more batteries for the flashlight.

You grumbled to yourself, thinking you should just go to bed early. So feeling your way through the pitch black apartment, you stumbled a total of three times and now have a stubbed toe. It was a great fucking night that’s for sure.

Your bed offered little to no relief on your aching post-work back but the exhaustion was taking over rapidly. You shuffled a little to get comfy but then heard a creak of a floorboard.

“Hello?” You called out. Nobody answers, why would they. “Mands is that you? Come on you know how scared I get babes. Not the time to do this shit,” no response and yet another creak. You were still though, it couldn’t have been the bed which never makes much sound anyways. You sat up now and try to train your eyes to the darkness, no moonlight was there to help.

You frantically open the drawer to your dresser and procure a weapon Mandy gifted you for protection, boy were you great full now. You couldn’t tell where the thing or person was so you waved it about hoping it would get them.

Your eyes started to adjust and you saw a figure in the corner, once it realized you could see it, it lunged forward at you, sticking you with what you assume was an anesthetic by the lightheaded feeling making it hard for you to push them off. Your screams were muffled with a hand, you tried to bite them but it felt like you were swimming in syrup. Eventually everything just stopped as you lulled backwards.

The figure swooped you over their shoulder and took you out of your apartment, stuffing you in the trunk of a car pulled of to the back of the building.

Amanda’s POV:

She really did feel awful that she had to cancel another date, she knew that whenever she did you just stayed at work later in hopes to distract yourself. She knew you understood but if you knew what was really happening she’s not sure the understanding would still apply.

John called her in with a special request, no details were given about this person and she wasn’t even the one to kidnap them. All she had to do was come up with a new trap. She thought it was like a test to see if her engineering skills have gotten better as well as her “moral” compass. John always was better at tinkering than her and John had found out about her previous unwinnable games so this was most likely just a checkin to see if she would deter again from the purpose.

She blames herself, if she didn’t get all trigger happy with the traps she wouldn’t be missing another date night. She triple-checked to make sure this game was beatable but not too easy, John doesn’t like it when they are too hard orrrr to easy. It was a comfortable in between but definitely still very much challenging. Whoever plays it would have to give up a lot of blood to live if they aren’t careful. It was a solo game, that’s all that was required for this one.

She really hoped that this would be done quick. So while the trap might have been beatable, the timer was set to go off probably fifteen minutes before it should. Good luck to whoever plays this, she hopes they’re pretty bad or else the guilt will eat at her for the rest of the month. Sometimes John picked stupid targets that didn’t do anything bad necessarily as much as he believes it with his “solid” ideals. Maybe after John dies she can hand everything over to mark and move far away from this hell city with you. As much as she wants to, she needs to take care of John for the time being. He’s practically her father at this point.

With the trap finally finished she hands it over to Mark who’s been oddly quiet in the corner. He had a smug expression nobody liked, he was up to something.

“Hope you didn’t make this one unbeatable,” he laughs. He never cared if they were or not before so she’s a little put off, assuming he’s just teasing her for her screw up with John.

“Yeah, yeah,” she mutters and turns around to pick up her stuff. She just wants to get home to you so bad.

“Hold up,” Mark stops her, “John wants you to watch live with him. She groans in response.

“Fine let’s get this over with,” and with that they leave.

It was the same old set up, a rusty building. She definitely didn’t like the idea of having to get a tetnus shot. She hates needles, preferring to sedate people using chloroform or with blunt force to the back of the head.

She split ways with mark, her going to the observing room where John was already.

“Hello Amanda,” he croaked smugly.

“What is with you and Mark, you guys act like you just got the president?”

“They certainly are important but no, they are not the president. I can’t wait to see your work on them, I’m sure after our talk this trap will be exemplary?” He tilts his head upwards. She awkwardly laughs, his questioning gaze makes her slightly uncomfortable.

“Should be,” she mutters.

“Well then let’s begin.” She turns on the cameras to see marks back covering the kidnapped. She yawns but when he moves away it cuts off with a choke. She really hopes her eyes are deceiving her, she still can’t see much of the face but everything else looks exactly like what you were wearing this morning. They really need better cameras but money is tight in the Jigsaw business.

“So, I didn’t ask before but what’s the name of this one?” She starts to panic, please don’t say your name, please.

“I thought you’d recognize Y/n?”

Everything shatters, she doesn’t know what you could have possibly done to deserve this so she assumes it’s her fault for going against orders.

“John please, you and I both know she doesn’t deserve this. She isn’t cruel I would know she tells me everything, I put a tracker on her all she does is go to work!” She’s pleading for your life right now.

“I know, this is for you though. Even if she has done nothing she lacks the understanding you and I have of our message. The only way to understand is through this method. If she doesn’t make it out than she’s not worth it anyways, she didn’t fight hard enough for you.” His explanation makes sense but what happens when you don’t. She already knows you’d fight for her as hard as you could, she doesn’t need proof of that. And honestly she was content on hiding this part of her life from you forever.

Oh god, you must have been so scared, your about to be terrified when you wake up. She’s torn, she could get you and risk everything, Mark would kill both of you anyways and John might let it happen too. She has to painfully wait it out.

“I can see your worried, rightfully so, this is good. I promise. We do good for the world, and I’m doing good for you.” She wants to strangle him but she just breaks down sobbing. She sees you moving on the monitor in the corner of her eye and her breath hitches; you’re awake.

Mark had left the room and made no attempt at sticking around. He probably went home like the two of you should have.

She didn’t want to watch but she needed to see how you progressed. There was a collar on you’re neck that squeeze a millimeter tighter every five minutes, which originally would have killed you in an hour but she adjusted it so it gave you forty-five minutes. It’s incredible how cruel life can be. She threatened somebody’s life more just to get to you but now she might not get to you because it’s you who might die.

There was no audio but she could see all of the panic by the way you tensed, she would hate herself forever. You were not completely an idiot, thankfully. You checked all around you immediately and then found an envelope eventually in your pocket. The next thing you found was the tape recorder taped on the underside of an old table.

She had no idea what it said or how helpful the hints would be. She always debriefed John on how to disable the traps because his favorite thing was to record those tapes, so she let him. Her stomach jolted when she remembered your device cut into your neck as well. It wouldn’t draw blood until the thirty minute mark but blood loss was an added motivator to get the player to hurry up. She could tell you wanted to throw up when you heard something specific on the tape. Most likely that you would need to mutilate yourself more to find the key hidden inside your body. She had no idea where mark put it but she did know that your entire body had to be cut so you wouldn’t be able to tell exactly where it was put in your body just by looking.

You were then most likely searching for something sharp to preform the painful process of self-mutilation. She knew that the key would be put somewhere easily accessible at least given the time limit. You found a knife behind a pipe and you stared at it.

You hesitated, now what not the time for contemplation, Y/n.

She saw you sit on the ground and feel around for any foreign objects under your skin, when you paused and then continued to feel a specific spot right over your heart she went whiter than she had been.

“I didn’t tell him to put it there,” John muttered. He wasn’t worried for you but maybe a little for Amanda’s sanity. He thought she would be handling this better, he had to remind himself that this was in her best interests. He needed to make sure you were perfect for his little girl.

She just stared blankly at the screen. It had been 25 minutes already, you had just enough time to gauge the key out but you were looking worse for wear and had to be very careful with the cutting. You now had your shirt off and we’re biting down on it as the blade sliced your skin where the cut already was. You were shaking, barely managing to get the key.

By the time you got it out it was only 2 minutes left which you used to unlock the death collar. You threw it with whatever might you had left to the other side of the room.

When the timer was finally up the collar snapped tightly together. You where bleeding everywhere, but still stood back up to greet Billy the Puppet as he wheeled in to the now open door. Again she had no idea what he was saying to you but you looked right at the camera and ran out the door. She could hear your footsteps come closer to her room.

You burst in with a newfound strength and yelled as well as you could with a sliced neck,

“Amanda are you okay, oh my god I was- are you hurt? Oh-“ you stopped and looked around her, John was still there but what really confused you was that she looked not only completely fine, but that there were monitors with the room you were just in on them.

“Before you go allow me to explain,” John spoke up, “you my dear have been chosen to help revive humanity. What that was, was a test. You passed and now appreciate life. Amanda here did not know about you, however, she did make the trap. If you join us then, you too, can spread an appreciation for life.” Your eye twitched and you looked back and forth and back and forth and then collapsed.

Amanda ran to catch you, this was from blood loss and probably you finding out she was a serial killer as well as working with the man who now not only gave her trauma but you too.

You knew how fucked up that ordeal made her, you know how badly her nightmares still are. What you didn’t know was that even though she’s mentioned feeling more alive and slightly grateful that she herself would become the thing that she feared.

“She passed. I’m gonna patch her up, she just needs time,” Amanda sniffled, tears finally poured down her face. You were still here, she would never let you go again. She dragged you out of there and back to her room where all her medical supplies were, and she started to patch you up, kissing each stitch despite it getting her bloody too.

When she was done she laid you to rest and started to come up with things to say to beg you to stay when you inevitably break up with her. She doesn’t know if she can let you go but she realizes it’s ultimately your decision. She’s already hurt you so much.

Twenty minutes go by when you awake to Amanda holding your hand. Your eyes aren’t open but you desperately wish that none of that was real. The aching and stinging pain coursing through you was a dead giveaway that this was real. You peeled your eyes open to a greatfully dim room, Amanda’s room.

“Your awake,” she states.

“Were you gonna tell me if the Jigsaw killer didn’t put me in that situation?” You asked. She didn’t want to lie anymore

“No… but I wanted to forget about it myself. I just wanted to spread the message until John- the Jigsaw Killer died. I was gonna runaway with you so we could live happily. I would never miss a date night again and yeah, you wouldn’t have known about that but I couldn’t lose you. I never wanted this at all, I just didn’t want you to leave me. I will never ever hurt you again. I technically owe John my life and in the process of repaying him he treated me like a daughter more than anyone before. I know you know I’m sick but it’s so much worse than that, I care about you both so much. I would have gotten you out of there but the man who put you in there, Mark, would have killed you anyways. I know I am a sick person, I will never pay enough for this but please don’t leave me, please! You are the only thing that makes me feel normal and sane. You can leave when your better if you must. But if you are willing, we can work together, the idea is insane but you and I are proof that it works. I want to live life again and live it with you please.”

You look at her and your eyes gloss over, you have no idea what the hell to do but as much as you hate it she’s all you’ve got too. Everything is screaming at you to just run away to the hospital and get their asses arrested. Everything.

Except your heart.

You fought to live for her, you could have waited for death rather than living through this trauma but you fought to see her again and when that puppet told you she was here you had the exact same look of horror still plastered on Amanda’s face. He’s right and you know it, you want to live more. Maybe you’re more fucked up than originally thought.

“Okay” you say

She tilts her head afraid to ask you to continue so you do for her.

“I can’t leave you, but I don’t want to be a part of this idea for awhile,” you wince, “I need time to think that over but I know that after everything I still just wanna be held by you. I’ll stay…” you pause, “I don’t forgive you right now but if you ever lie to me again I will leave faster than that stupid puppet can wheel into a room. I know you wouldn’t hurt me on purpose, but it’s going to take a bit till I can trust you again.”

She finally lets go of a breath she’s been holding in since she met you. You’re gonna stay with her even though you know everything and went through it.

You’re staying.

“Yes, now come on into the bed I’ve had an insanely long day.”

“Anything for you”, she replies, kissing you softer than ever before.

#amanda young x reader #the pig x reader #amanda young #saw #saw franchise

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daddy-deathslinger · 2 years ago

Note

Thanks I hate it!! But I love you and your writing so may I request a pt2 of the escaping the realms one you did? Maybe where they find the reader??

I’m happy you were tortured as much by the picture, as I was making it! >:D And thank you so much for the kind words!! ❤️ One part 2 coming right up!

The Deathslinger searches for his S/O after the Entity spat him back out

Sundown had long come and gone. Night was approaching steadily and without mercy, covering the silent town in darkness. The chilly night air cooled Caleb off, it was just what he needed right now. He felt frustrated beyond words, his heart pounding in his chest and his fists clenched shut. Another day wasted. With a deep sigh, he untied his horse and got up in the saddle. Spending another night at the inn was pointless, he wasn’t going to get any sleep this night either. He might as well be on the roads, on the lookout, than tossing and turning in a cheap bed.

“Let’s go, Polly”, he muttered to his horse, and they rode out of the small shithole town, hopefully never to return.

Caleb despised this place, he had only been here for one thing. His mission. And again he had failed. It had been one year since he was spat out from Hell, one year since he had last seen you, heard your voice. He was on a mission to find you, but so far he had been unsuccessful. And every day without you pained him more and more. He had cut ties with the Hellshire gang, left them to fend for themselves, find a new leader, whatever. He needed to do this alone, he knew that. But some days, the most lonesome days, when solitude hit like a knife, part of him felt like giving up. Turning himself in, going out with a bang in a shootout, anything to make it all end. But thinking of you always kept him going.

“Might as well rest a bit now that we’re out of that dreadful town”, he said to Polly, and pulling her to a halt he quickly got off.

He decided to start a fire, keep himself warm and do some thinking. Polly needed rest tonight, even if he didn’t. He built a quick fireplace and got some twigs and branches gathered, and soon a small fire was cackling along. Caleb sat down by the fire, warming his hands, thinking of you. He had searched the whole country, it felt like. Day and night, with very little rest. And yet, you were nowhere to be found. He knew it was a long shot, asking to find you here, in the States. You might not even have been released from Hell, what if you were still there, being tortured? Caleb shook his head to get rid of the thoughts, the memories from that place. He needed to find you, and soon. As he sat there in the night, alone with his thoughts, he could hear something in the far distance. Hooves. A group of horses, galloping across the desert in the middle of the night. Caleb got up from the ground, his gaze fixated on the horizon where he could hear the sound. There he saw them, a gang riding along the road. Five or six of them. What on earth were they doing out here, now? Caleb thought he was the only one who couldn’t sleep these days. As the gang got closer to him, he thought fast.

“Howdy there!” he yelled out, waving to seem more approachable. “Care to help a stranger out here?”

They outnumbered him, he couldn’t rob them. But he could ask them if they’d seen anything, heard anything. Any leads he could get. To his gratitude, he saw the silhouettes change their routes slightly so they could approach him directly, and soon they slowed to a halt in front of him. In the light of Caleb’s campfire, he took a quick look at the gang in front of him. A bunch of youngsters all of them, some of them barely out of their twenties by the looks of it.

“What you doin’ out here alone?” one of the boys asked. “Lots of trouble along these roads.”

Caleb didn’t respond, he was busy studying a curious baggage on one of the horses backs. It was big, dark, and if he wasn’t mistaken, he thought he could see it move in the shadows. Kidnappers, eh? Well, he was far from above that, so he would let them be on their merry way soon enough.

“Just wondering if you boys have seen a lone person on yer travels? About this tall, hair this long…”

He was interrupted by one of the boys laughing.

“Mister, we’ve seen a lot of people during our travels! Hard to keep track of ‘em all!”

Caleb swallowed a grunt and tried keeping his cool. Suddenly, he was struck by a feeling, and as he saw the person/baggage on the horseback moving slightly again, he felt his heart skip a beat.

“Mind if I take a look at that person of yours? Can’t be too sure these days”, he said, pointing towards the baggage.

At this, the boy who seemed to be the leader shook his head.

“No can do, mister. We got business to attend to, if you’ll excuse us. We ain’t seen nothing and no one. Let’s go, boys!”

Caleb quickly got out a revolver from his coat pocket and aimed it at the leader.

“Wasn’t exactly a request, I’m afraid.”

The boys looked at eachother, then laughed in unison.

“What, you’re gonna take on all of us with that thing?”

“Crazy old coot!”

Caleb grunted and put away his pistol.

“If that’s how it’s gotta be…” he murmured, searching the bag on his horseback.

The boys’ laughters were cut short as he pulled out his Redeemer and aimed it at the leader.

“Now, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way”, he said, a slight smile on his lips.

“We ain’t scared of you!” one of the boys shouted, and the next second a loud bang rang through the night.

The hook was caught nicely by the leader’s shoulder, and in one go Caleb had him falling off his horse and struggling for his life as the chain pulled him in closer to his perpetrator.

“Fuck, it’s him!” one of the boys shouted and turned his horse around to flee.

Caleb released the wounded leader and took aim for the boy with the baggage on his horseback.

“Fuck this!” the boy screamed and turned heels as well.

Just as he was about to gallop away, Caleb aimed a shot right next to the horse to frighten it, and to his triumph the horse rose on its hind legs, making the baggage fall to the ground before it galloped away with its brave knight in the saddle. The rest of the boys were soon to follow, none of them daring to take up a fight against the Deathslinger himself. The wounded leader got up on his horse and rode away as well, and Caleb let him. He had more important business now, approaching the tied up person still on the ground. As he got closer, his stomach curled in on itself, and he felt something he hadn’t felt in years. A longing, so strong it was going to rip him apart. He quickened his pace, and knelt before the tied up figure. They had a bag on their head, and with shivering hands Caleb removed it… And as he saw who was underneath it, his stomach punched a hole in itself and his heart stopped in his chest. It couldn’t be…

“Y/N…?” he whispered, just staring at you.

You were gagged, so he quickly removed the gag so you could speak.

“Caleb!” you screamed, tears trickling down your face. “Caleb, I can’t believe it’s you!”

Caleb stared at you for a couple more seconds, then he shook his head and untied you quickly. He helped you up from the cold ground, and the two of you embraced like you hadn’t seen each other in… well, a year.

“Y/N…” Caleb whispered, feeling the tears burn behind his eyelids. “It cannot be…”

For so long he had searched. So many sleepless nights without you by his side, so much anger, so much grief. And here you were. Or was this a trick of the mind? Caleb had to release you, take a look at you. You looked tired, heavy bags underneath your eyes and tears streaming down your face. He caressed your face, kissed you, held you again.

“Y/N, I can’t believe it.”

“Caleb, I missed you so, so much…” you whispered into his hair, hugging him tightly.

“Come, sit down by the fire”, Caleb said, and on shaky legs both of you walked up to the campfire and sat down.

Caleb got out a blanket from his bag and swept it around your shoulders. You dried your eyes and curled up in his arms as he sat down next to you. Neither of you said a word. Caleb was dying to know how you were here, what had happened to you, but for now he just wanted this moment to stay like this. You, in his arms, in front of a warm campfire, the crickets chirping in the night. Caleb let out a content sigh and relaxed for the first time in a year.

The Oni searches for his S/O after the Entity spat him back out

Flesh. Blood. Bones being broken, their cracking noise echoing through Kazan’s head. It was all a red mess, a red, bloody mess. And Kazan loved it. He made them all pay for what they had done to him, he made them regret ever taking you from him. As the screams eventually died down, Kazan was left standing victorious amongst the corpses of the villagers. His trembling breath was all that could be heard in the night, his bloody fists still shaking from the adrenaline. He had defeated them all, but where were you? Were they hiding you somewhere? He let out a desperate roar in the night, but to no use. You didn’t reply. His adrenaline rush slowly fading and being replaced by anxiety, Kazan started searching the village. He went into every house, every cellar, tearing up beds and flipping over tables. Nothing. He knew you could still be trapped in the other place, that place where blood and torture were everyday things. The place he had been at, before he woke up here. Shaking his head, he removed those thoughts from there. You had to be here as well, you just had to. So he continued his stubborn search throughout the village.

The last place he checked was the emperor’s palace. It was big, but somehow Kazan knew his way around here. He checked every room, and when he ventured down into the dungeons, a strange feeling grabbed a hold of his heart. A feeling he hadn’t felt in ages, a feeling of… longing. He didn’t know what this feeling meant, but he urged on his exploration of the palace. The prison dungeons were dark and wet, and Kazan’s heavy footsteps echoed through the silent halls. He checked every cell, empty besides some skeletons here and there. Prisoners, living out their final days in this rotten place. As Kazan was nearing the last cell, he let out a frustrated sigh, clawing at his face. If he didn’t find you… Suddenly, a sound could be heard. It was faint, merely a mumble in the dungeon halls, but it sent Kazan running towards the last prison cell. Somehow, that faint sound made him think of… You. There you were, tied up in the corner of the cell, sitting on the cold stone ground. Kazan’s breath got stuck in his throat, the world started spinning and he had to grab ahold of the heavy iron door of the cell. Was this real, or a trick of the mind? You lifted your head to have a look at whoever had stopped outside of your cell, and as you saw Kazan standing outside the door, your eyes widened.

“Kazan…? Is that really you?”

When Kazan heard your voice, all breath was stolen from him. This was real, it had to be. Quickly, Kazan took a more secure grip of the iron door’s handle and pulled it. It didn’t budge.

“It’s no use, Kazan, they locked me in here. I-I don’t know which one of the villagers has the key…”

Kazan let out an angry grunt and pulled the door handle again. Nothing happened. Taking a step back away from the door, he grabbed his Kanabo from his back. He was so close to getting to hold you again, he was not going to stop now. He gathered all his strength and anger, and with one mighty swing he tore the door open with his Kanabo, and the loud bang echoed through the halls. As the dust settled, Kazan approached you. He quickly untied you, and the next second you were in his strong embrace, hugging him like your life depended on it.

“Kazan, I’m so glad you found me…” you whispered, and Kazan felt his anger turn into a warmer feeling in his chest.

He hugged you desperately, never wanting to let go of your warm body ever again. He had found you, and he was never going to let anything happen to you again. No one would ever hurt you, he would make sure of it. Come what may.

The Pig searches for her S/O after the Entity spat her back out

Warnings: angst, gore

Amanda’s heart was hammering in her chest. The gun felt heavy in her shaky hands. She had never felt this scared in her life, but she had never been more alert. She needed to find you, no matter what. She was making her way down a dimly lit corridor, a corridor she knew far too well. It was here that she had set up Jeff’s tests. Now it was empty, save for the clutter and random machinery parts. This old factory still gave her the creeps, she couldn’t deny that. Even more now, when she was searching for you, not knowing what was going on or if you were safe. She had searched through empty rooms and halls, not seeing any trace of you. She had torn off a piece of her shirt to tie up the bleeding wound on her neck, it helped a bit. In one of the rooms, she’d found a box of bullets to her immense relief, so now her gun wasn’t useless at least. She hadn’t yet dared call out your name, but now she was becoming desperate.

“Y/N?” she yelled as she entered another empty room.

The stench of dried blood and guts hit her nostrils like a fist to the face, and she almost vomited on the spot. Gun outstretched in front of her, pressing her face against her shoulder, she took a deep breath to try and gather herself. She could not be weak now, she had to remain strong for you. Quickly leaving the room, she cast a last glance over at the torture device filled with human remains before she left. Had to be the drunk driver. Amanda continued with shaky yet determined legs, the loss of blood slowing her down a bit. Where were you? As she approached yet another closed door, probably hiding another empty room, she suddenly got a strange feeling. A feeling she hadn’t felt in ages, a feeling of a strange longing. A longing so strong, it was going to rip out her stomach. In one quick move, she forced the rusted door open and immediately was faced with a nightmare. There you were. Strung up from the ceiling, unconscious.

“Y/N!” Amanda cried out, dropping her gun to the ground and running up to you.

This woke you up, and you opened a pair of groggy eyes. Very soon your grogginess was exchanged for fear, as you noticed you were tied up.

“Amanda…?”

“Y/N! Are you hurt?”

Tears were burning behind Amanda’s eyelids, her heart hammering away in her chest like a possessed drum. You were hooked into a device holding you upright, dangling from the ceiling. Around your chest was a leather harness, keeping in place the metal contraptions, and you were bleeding quite heavily from a wound in your chest. The angel trap. Amanda knew this trap, because she had designed it.

“Amanda, help me, please!” you screamed, as it seemed to dawn on you how you were trapped.

Amanda nodded, silent tears streaming down her face. This couldn’t be happening. Suddenly she noticed something in the front pocket of your jeans. A note sticking out. She quickly grabbed it, unfolding it with shaky hands.

“You created inescapable traps.”

That was all that was written on the note, and the handwriting was impossible to decipher. Amanda let out a cry of fear, looking back up at you. This couldn’t be.

“Amanda? What’s wrong? P-Please, help me out of this!”

Amanda tried to collect herself, she tried to think. Who had put you here? It couldn’t have been John, he was dead. Was it the Entity? There had to be an escape, there must be. She had designed this trap, she knew how it worked. You also know it’s inescapable, a voice in her head said, but she ignored it. She had to ignore it. Quickly drying her tears with the back of her hand, she started studying the contraption with her hands.

“I-It’s okay, love, I’m gonna get you out of this. Don’t worry, I promise I’ll get you out of this”, she said as she studied the harness a bit closer.

But could she really promise that? Shaking her head to get rid of the thoughts, she forced herself to stay focused on her mission. She noticed the wound again, the wound bleeding from your chest. But something was strange with it, it didn’t seem to be related at all to the harness. And then Amanda noticed that the harness wasn’t even attached to your ribcage. A wave of unimaginable relief washed over her and she almost laughed out loud in joy.

“Honey, it’s okay, it’s gonna be okay!” she said, looking up at you. “We just need to find the key.”

“It’s there”, you said, pointing with your gaze in front of you.

Amanda followed your gaze and saw a small jar hanging from a chain from the ceiling. The acid jar.

“I just need to get the key from there and we’ll-”

“No!” Amanda yelled, a bit louder than she had intended to. “I’ll get it.”

“Amanda-”

“I’ll get it, Y/N!” Amanda pressed on, trying to ignore her own shaky voice.

She was the one who had gotten you here, by being your partner, so she was gonna get the key. Quickly climbing up on the contraption you were dangling from, she put her hand into the jar of acid without hesitating. Burning pain exploded in her hand and spread throughout her body, but she persisted. Screaming in agony, she felt her fingers grabbing the key and holding onto it for dear life and she pulled her hand out of the jar.

“You got it! Amanda, you got it!” you screamed, relief audible in your voice.

Amanda took deep breaths to try and calm down. If you don’t give the pain power, it isn’t as bad, she told herself. Deep breath in, deep breath out. She didn’t look at her hand, as she shakily started to unlock the lock that held the harness together. In a blur, she saw the lock get opened, and you were quick to get out of the harness. Amanda wanted to check if you were hurt anywhere else besides your chest wound, but the world was getting blurrier by the second. She had to sit down, gulping air into her lungs intensely.

“Amanda!”

She felt you kneel down beside her, holding her in a warm, safe embrace. You were safe, that was all that mattered now.

#dead by daylight #dbd #dbd fanfic #the deathslinger #the deathslinger x reader #caleb quinn #caleb quinn x reader #the oni dbd #dbd the oni #the oni x reader #dbd the pig #the pig x reader #amanda young #amanda saw

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diejager · 1 year ago

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hi can you do a dead by daylight pig x buff killer reader please just like when we pick her up like nothing please

Pairing : Amanda Young “The Pig” x reader

The trial was a successful one, annoying, but successful for her. Her traps were well placed and her plan impeccable, if her teacher were to see her, he'd be proud. As the last bell rang on the fourth survivor, signaling their death, mist rolled into the area, covering the bloodied ground with a thick fog.

The Entity was calling her back, She was taking her back to her to the campsite, her temporary lodging with other killers. The fog filled the air around her, grasping onto her tired body. Amanda felt a pull, a harsh tug on her being swallowing her into the abyss of the Entity's magic.

One second she was staring at a corpse, and the next she was greeted by a warn fire, comforting and welcoming in the cold, harsh world she was taken into. Most minded their business, rarely interacting with one another. Killers were naturally reclusive once in their own skin, not playing the character of another.

She too, was reclusive to the rest, some were intimidating (The Shape and The Executioner), while others were crazed, psychotic even for their standards, lost to the world in their mind, a fantasy they built to please their sick dreams (The Doctor and The Clown); but she had her safe heaven, a place she could go to unwind, to be herself without the criticizing stares of others.

There, in her safe place, was the person she loved, the person she grew to care for and take care of. You were big and burly, rough on the edges but soft on the insides. You smiled sweetly, eyes squinting in mirth or contentment, gleaming softly at her and only at her. It was something you gave to her alone, her treasure, her possession.

She truly felt safe and loved with you, wrapped in your arms and cuddling into you. She liked leaning on your chest, her shorter arms wrapped around your waist when she whispered sweet nothing back to you after you mumbled your confessions so shamelessly.

The moment Amanda stepped out of the thick wooded bushes, she was swapped off her feet in a warm and tight embrace. She kicked her legs, feet dangling inches from the ground with a squeal.

"You did good, Amanda, " you cooed, nuzzling her pink muzzle. "You did good."

She loved how soft your voice was, slightly rough on the sides, but it always seemed to make her melt into your arms. Your burly arms were warm around her, your firm muscles lined with slight fat that made sleeping on them comfortable. You were just warm.

She buried her face between your chest, sighing as her shoulders relax, her tense countenance loosening under your watchful gaze. You held her as you liked - how she liked - you always seemed to know what to do to ease her troubled mind. Thought swirled and paranoia muddled her bright mind, that brilliant brain that let her become her master's apprentice.

She loved how you knew her, how you acted to her behest without her saying a word, how you seemed to know what to do to make her feel better. She loved how thoughtful and aware you were.

"Thank you, (Name)."

#the pig dbd #x reader #The pig x reader #dbd the pig #dbd x reader #dead by daylight x you #dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight #Dead by daylight the pig #Dead by daylight the pig x reader #Dbd the pig x reader

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crushedgraham · 1 year ago

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Requests are OPEN (mb guys i thought i would be writing a lot more than i have been...)

Rules:

I will write from the perspective of a gender neutral or feminine reader

Cis het men and minors dni!

I will write smut but nothing weird like pee or incest kinks...

I can write g!p just specify!

Characters I'll write for:

Alcina Dimitrescu (RE8)

Donna Beneviento (RE8)

The Dimitrescu Sisters (RE8)

D.Va (Overwatch)

Widowmaker (Overwatch)

Ashe (Overwatch)

Mercy (Overwatch)

Sombra (Overwatch)

Junker Queen (Overwatch)

Moira (Overwatch)

Haley (SDV)

Penny (SDV)

Amanda Young/The Pig (DBD/Saw, specify which)

The Huntress (DBD)

Shadowheart (BG3)

Jaheira (BG3)

Karlach (BG3)

Lae'zel (BG3)

(I'll add more to the list as I learn more about different fandoms!)

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shotmrmiller · 2 months ago

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sex pollen trope where you're the one affected, having been exposed to some dense gas while on an op that felt like harsh sandpaper across your throat and lungs, and now you're a feverish mess on some ratty cot in a safe house and with only ghost as company, it's miserable, as the saying goes.

hair sticking to your sweaty skin, plastered onto your forehead and neck, every swallow feeling like you've got a mouthful of sand, your fluttering pulse wild and deafening in your ears, and the throbbing ache deep in your core, the blistering heat right below your navel— it'd only been uncomfortable in the beginning, the faint throbbing incredibly familiar, but the more you ignored it, the worse it got.

and now you're here, with arousal sticking your underwear to your pussy, unable to do anything about it because your lieutenant is seated in a corner that lets him have both you and the front door within his line of sight. a quick, discreet rub under your clothes is not an option.

someone put you out of your foggy misery.

"squirmin' like a worm on a 'ook isn't gonna help." his staring doesn't either, yet he does it anyway.

"got to make sure ya aren't dyin' on me." you want to snap that you don't think proof of life is on the darkened stain between your legs, the retort pressed behind clenched teeth but another thick wave of bestial need rolls over you and god, you're about to shove your hand into your underwear, propriety be damned—

"best you don't do tha'." why the fuck not? "you'll only get relief for a moment 'fore it comes back twofold." he says as if he's reading off the morning paper and not watching you fight tooth and nail to not fuck yourself against the pillow your head is on. (soap's offer to be friends with benefits is only looking better by the hour.)

you hastily decide that it'll be better than nothing. you'll just have to rub your pussy raw until this drug runs its course and you're telling him to piss off or don't, but you've had enough. you're stuck here with him anyway, no flight home until the morn and you're not about to spend it writhing around.

"if tha's wha' you want," ghost bites his gloves off, spitting them out onto the ground before curling his hands around your ankles and dragging you toward him. "i will help." your entire world narrows down to the feel of him touching your skin, his fingers searing as they hook into the waistband of your pants, and you almost kick him in the mouth trying to get them off faster.

"but 'm not fuckin' you." the bite of disappointment is quickly forgotten, his breath warm against your slick pussy, and after three quick glides of his tongue over your pearl, your orgasm crests, pulse after pulse of pleasure so potent it stung.

in less than a minute you're burning again, need thrumming through you and with the heady push and drag of his middle finger over your sensitive nerves, curling in you until he can fit two, three—

you're lost.

(ghost telling you that he's not doing anything else because if he's going to fuck you then you're going to remember it falls on ringing ears.)

#the next day you look ran through and feel hungover #price giving you a sympathetic pat on the back is humiliating #ghost looking at you straight in the eye even more so #whatever you said you didnt mean it :/#but *he* did and you not knowing that all he's waiting on is the green light from the doc to pounce will make it all the sweeter #until then he's not bringing anything up #did it happen or did you hallucinate #also cue him sniffing his fingers while youre finally asleep cuz eau de pussy is his favorite <3 #i firmly believe he likes the smell of come and he will absolutely not wash his hands the pig #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #cod smut #simon riley x you

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hangup119 · 5 months ago

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when pigs fly ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

you will only admit that you actually like kim leehan when pigs start to fly. for now, though, everyone else will just have to suffer the push-and-pull that happens whenever the two of you are near each other's vicinity.

or: your younger brother invites you to join his minecraft server, and chaos ensues.

pairing. gamer!kim leehan + fem!reader

genres + warnings. non-idol au, streamer au, gamer au, rivals to lovers(?), brother’s best friend(?) | profanity, sexual jokes, violent jokes, mentions of violence (only in game!!!! dw), not rly r2l more like u-piss-me-off-but-u-dgaf2lovers HAHA i do not know what i am doing..., y/n is hard to get!!! or is she... 😈

status. on-going | taglist. open | networks. @onedoornet

author’s note. this is completely inspired from the awesome @lionhanie’s bnd playing mc headcanons 🫡 plz show them some support bc this smau wouldn’t be here today if not for it 😿 ANYWAYS FIRST BND WORK LESGOO

reblogs appreciated!

main story ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

crossover

profiles one | two

01 #needthat

02 woonagi OUT 🔥

03 female acquired 🙏😎

04 day 1

05 𝓲’𝓶 𝓰𝓸𝓷𝓷𝓪 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓶

06 your worst nightmare

07 he’s right behind me isn’t he

08 pretty privilege at its finest

09 ho is u falala ?

10 a christmas miracle

11 burn at the stake

12 negative 1 dollar

13 the birth of y/nhan

14 ur not even that hot 😂

15 this truly was a Friendship is magic

. . . & more to come!

story by hangup119. do not steal.

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filthyslashertoad · 5 months ago

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Hellooo! I hope you’re doing well! I was wondering if I could get an artist, survivor reader who strangely finds themself drawing Amanda all the time because she just looks so cool/pretty. And one day they drop their sketchbook in a match with her and she finds it?

I’ve been going in an Amanda spiral recently(no pun intended), idk why but I’ve just been thinking about her a lot more and about how interesting of a character she is, anyways thanks for the request 10/10.

Amanda Young x Artist!Reader That’s Infatuated With Her

For the past few weeks you had been in a creative slump until one day you were in a match with The Pig. Something about her trench coat, mask, and trap design fueled your creativity.

In a fit of creativity you developed rough sketches of what she looked like from memory but when you realized you could barely remember some of her features you decided that attempting to sketch her mid-trial would be best.

With your pencil and sketchbook, you hid in a nearby bush hoping for her to sneak past. Just to your luck she did and you began to draw, erasing some of the parts of the other sketches you had incorrectly drawn. Then, suddenly a loud movement in the bushes behind you makes you jump to your feet. "AH-" trying to run away and into the nearby shack, Amanda tackles you to the floor and just as she's about to place a bear trap on your head, she sees your sketchbook beside her. Clutters of sketches of only her decorated the pages, each one in alternating poses.

"Did you do this?" She points at the sketch book before looking back at you.

"Yes-, I swear it's not what you think, I'm not stalking you or anything-"

"Relax, I don't mind, maybe next time you could do some without the mask?" With that she climbs off of you, lifting up her mask slightly to smile at you before returning to hunting the other survivors.

Safe to say you left that trial entirely unscathed and with a date for the next time you decide to draw.

#amanda young headcannon #amanda young x reader #slashers #hcs #fluff #oneshot #the pig x reader #dbd

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h4unted-d4rling · 3 months ago

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I would be that one person in the town during Weirdmageddon where I’m like “is it just me or is that Bill Cipher guy kinda hot?” And everyone would look at me like

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rootsofdread · 2 years ago

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PLSSSS All the things you write are so unbelievably cute, tysm for existingggg

If you don't mind me sending in another request, could write something about Deathslinger, Wesker, Pig, Trapper and Oni with a s/o (or just a survivor!), with whom all power-related encounters fell weirdly intimate??? Not in any way sexual or seductive, plain intimacy. Prolonged eye contact, breath holding and everything.

The trial is going just as usual RIGHT untill it's time to pull the survivor out of the trap/ Spear them/ Put the trap on their head/ etc etc.

hiii thank you!! i hope these are good, i'll be honest i got a liiiiittle stumped but i like how they turned out! <3

Caleb Quinn / The Deathslinger:

Caleb’s a little playful with you when he spears you. He’ll wrap you up in the chains and spin you out of them, dancing with you. He’ll hold you close once he’s reeled you in, clutched against his chest…He’s warm, you can barely breathe. He holds your eyes and strokes your hair until he decides to stab and let you hit the dirt.

It’s always an excuse to pull you close to him, really. He sees it as a subtle way to show you some affection during trials if you’d rather the other survivors don’t know the two of you are together.

He’ll always go for you over any other survivors. If he sees you standing with other survivors, he’ll pick you out of all of them and spear you. The horror on everyone else’s faces delights him — but most of all he loves seeing the shock on your face as he pulls you in.

He’s sometimes just as stunned as you are by the action, so you usually have a pretty big window to escape. He prefers when you do — it gives him another opportunity to catch you. But he's just as happy throwing you onto a hook, too.

Albert Wesker / The Mastermind:

Wesker always has…A way about him, we'll say. He’s been known to enjoy playing with the survivors, getting a little intimate occasionally to mess with them. with them. You’re no different — when he manages to catch you in one of his dashes and gets you against the wall, he gets a little too close to you. Studying your eyes, holding his breath. Waiting for you to make the next move. You’re holding your breath, too.

It is a different kind of moment with you, though. It’s not just a game, it’s a subtle allowance of his affection in a way that doesn’t show his favoritism. But you know — you’re his favorite. And getting cornered and thrown into a wall is just his way of showing you that when you’re in a trial.

He isn’t cruel, he gives you a chance to run away before he goes after you again. He’s a gentleman, it’d just be rude to catch you off-guard and throw you onto a hook. He’s better than that. Besides, when he lets you run he gets another chance to snag you and see your reaction.

But you know he really has no ulterior motives doing this. He just likes seeing the way you react to what he does; he is still a scientist after all, and he finds it quite amusing. He really is quite playful when you get down to it, and him pulling stunts like this isn’t out of the ordinary.

Amanda Young / The Pig:

Amanda’s trappings have always been weirdly intimate, to be honest. It is something intimate to her, in a way. There’s just something intense about punishing the ungrateful, even though it’s not that with you — she doesn’t know what it is, it’s the same, but different.

She gets very in the zone during trials, hunting down the ungrateful survivors. But it’s like a switch flips in her brain when she finds you, seeming to relax a little…It can be jarring sometimes to see her go from bloodthirsty to kind so quickly, but you know it means she loves you.

She’s always gentle when she fastens the Reverse Bear Trap on your head, tucking your hair out of the way and petting you when she’s finished. There’s always something loving about the way she puts the trap on you, something gentle. Something about her lingering touches…It’s a loving gesture. She wants you to be better.

She never feels like she can breathe properly until she gets you on the hook. She’ll quickly leave you, not wanting it to be obvious that she gets so flustered around you. Helping the helpless is a beautiful thing, but she’s a Jigsaw, for crying out loud, nobody needs to know how she feels. Except you, of course…

Evan MacMillan / The Trapper:

Evan is aggressive, overtly so many would say, so it's a shock seeing him essentially stop in his tracks when he sees you caught in one of his traps. He's usually quick to pull mangled survivors out of his traps…But with you, he's more…Slow.

He circles you to make sure nobody's around. He pets your hair as he crouches down to open the jaws. He's quiet and keeps eye contact. It's so unlike him. That is, until he huffs and hauls you out of the dirt, over to a hook. He stays for a moment, still looking up at you, his hands lingering.

You're like a wounded animal to him in these moments. He knows he has to be kind to you…Gentle to you, even. He does his job, he does it well, but he loves you, and he hopes he shows you that.

If someone else tries to save you from a trap, though, he's quicker to get rid of them. You're his, this is his moment with you and he won't have anyone ruining it. He likes to be alone with you.

Kazan Yamaoka / The Oni:

Like Evan, Kazan is known for his aggression during trials; it's almost eerie how calm he gets when he follows you around to absorb your blood orbs. You're essentially free game to him and he won't pass it up.

When he has enough to fuel his rage, he's always right behind you. Waiting. He gives you a moment to start running, but he always catches up with you and knocks you down with his trusty Kanabo. He pauses above you, catching your gaze as he breathes heavily. He presses his forehead to yours — a strange moment this is, but yours nonetheless.

He wants to stay with you, but his duty calls. He leaves to chase down the other survivors. But he comes back for you as soon as he can, a hand pressing against your head before he picks you up and hauls you to a hook.

He's an honorable man, you know that. He never tries to do serious damage to you. And he always shows you how much he loves you — he'd be utterly distraught if you didn't know he loved you. He's sensitive.

#inbox #caleb quinn #albert wesker #amanda young #evan macmillan #kazan yamaoka #dbd imagines #dbd x reader #dbd x you #caleb quinn x reader #the deathslinger x reader #albert wesker x reader #amanda young x reader #the pig x reader #evan macmillan x reader #the trapper x reader #kazan yamaoka x reader #the oni x reader

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cielie-voss · 1 month ago

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The guinea pig whisperer

Eddie Munson x fem!reader (and her guinea pigs)

Summary: When your family needs your help, you turn to your best friend Eddie Munson to take care of your beloved guinea pigs. Couldn't be that difficult, right?

Warnings: use of y/n, but other than that none I think

Wordcount: 4.4k

Taglist: @violettsoul @evileyeandthecattywhumps

Masterlist

If you want to be tagged in coming fanfics or if you want to request something, feel free to send me a dm or an ask. 🥰 Likes, comments and especially reblogs are always welcome. 🤗

“Okay, guys, we’ve got this,” Eddie said softly as he knelt down, trying to convince himself as much as the little creatures in front of him.

“We totally got this.”

Who was he kidding? He totally didn’t have this. What had possessed him to agree to this quest?

As the little furballs scurried back into their houses, teeth chattering in disapproval of the strange guy invading their space, Eddie leaned back against the rustling beanbag and sighed.

Eddie loved animals—really, he did. Sometimes, he even loved them more than people. But most animals didn’t seem to love him back. He was usually too loud, too hectic, too fidgety, and he ended up scaring them away.

“Come on, I’m not a bad guy,” he tried to convince the crested guinea pig that was cautiously sticking its nose out of the door, sniffling and clearly unimpressed with Eddie's presence.

“Hey, it’s not my fault, okay? You’re the one who needs special care. I’m just doing what I’ve been told,” Eddie said, as if reasoning with the little ball of fur would somehow help. Did the guinea pig even understand him? Probably not—it’s just a guinea pig. Guinea pigs couldn’t understand humans, right?

When you had asked him to take care of your guinea pigs for a few days while you were out of town, he figured it wouldn’t be that hard. Feed them a couple of times a day, refill their water bottle—how complicated could it be?

But, oh boy, was he wrong.

You were the most generous person he’d ever met, always caring for every creature that crossed your path. For as long as he’d known you, you’d always had special needs animals in your care. Abandoned rabbits, blind cats, deaf dogs, birds with deformed wings, abused animals—you always tried to give these innocent souls a place of refuge.

The other day, you got a call from your family, needing your help with your grandma’s funeral. In a panic, you reached out to Eddie, asking if he could take care of your beloved guinea pigs. Knowing Eddie’s kind nature and willingness to help, you entrusted him with the responsibility of looking after Elvis and the other guinea pigs in your absence.

Who could possibly refuse such a request?

Certainly not Eddie.

Before you left, you handed him a list of instructions on how to take care of the guinea pigs, especially Elvis, your oldest guinea pig who needed special attention due to his dental issues.

Veggies cut in thin slices.

He eats pretty slowly, so make sure the others don’t steal his food.

Make sure nothing gets stuck where his teeth are growing back.

Nothing complicated, right? But he hadn’t expected Elvis to be such a diva. When you led him into the living room, where the huge guinea pig cage took up half the space, the other guinea pigs had excitedly approached the glass pane enclosing the cage. But Elvis stayed at the back, laying majestically in his snuggle sack, eyeing Eddie warily, clearly unimpressed by his presence.

As soon as you left and Eddie tried to introduce himself, Elvis sprinted into one of the wooden houses, out of Eddie’s reach. Realizing this task might be more complicated than he’d thought, Eddie sat down and observed the guinea pigs for a while. Maybe they just needed to get used to his presence? Maybe they were just shy and needed to see that he wasn’t a threat?

He glanced at the list you gave him: Treats are in the drawer next to the cage.

Treats sounded like a good idea. He grabbed a handful of pea flakes and tried to lure the guinea pigs out, carefully whispering reassuring words to them as if they could understand him.

Bit by bit, the first noses peeked out of the houses, sniffing the delicious treats in his hand. But it took some more time before the first guinea pig dared to approach Eddie, sneaking up to him cautiously. Excited, Eddie held his breath, freezing like a statue so as not to scare the fragile, timid creature. Just as he was struggling to hold his breath any longer, the guinea pig grabbed one of the flakes and, with its head held high, ran back into one of the houses.

He knew he had to be patient to gain their trust, but no matter what he tried, Elvis wouldn’t come out, making the task nearly impossible.

The rest of the day, Eddie spent in the living room, switching between the couch and the bean bag next to the cage. Whenever he moved around, he made sure to be as quiet as possible. Sitting still was something Eddie wasn’t really good at—he was always fidgeting with anything he could get his hands on.

After a while, he decided to read something to them. Maybe the sound of his voice would help the piggies get used to him? At least it would help him stay still. He figured it didn’t matter what he read aloud, so he inspected the small bookshelf in the corner of the room.

“Romeo and Juliet?” He glanced over his shoulder, searching for approval.

“No, maybe… What about Dracula? No, that’s probably too scary for you guys.” His eyes scanned the other titles. “Red Dragon? No, not appropriate. The Shining? Or maybe Carrie?” He furrowed his brows as he picked up one of the books and turned it around to read the blurb.

“Goddamn, these are some pretty bloody and violent books for such a gentle girl,” he muttered, surprised by your choice in literature. He put Cujo back on the shelf before finding Howl’s Moving Castle.

That might do the trick.

To lure the piggies out of their houses, he placed a bowl of thinly sliced vegetables in the middle of the cage and sat down on the bean bag, reading to them in a soft voice. But still, Elvis remained stubborn, refusing to come out of his house.

“Damn, you really are one headstrong little guy, huh?” Eddie peeked through the entrance of Elvis’s hiding place. “I won’t hurt you. I just wanna make sure you get enough food.”

They locked eyes in a silent standoff—two stubborn souls, neither willing to give in. Eddie cocked his head, looking at Elvis with pleading puppy eyes.

“Come on, dude. Do it for Y/N,” he said, a hint of desperation in his voice, as he held out his hand, offering some pea flakes. But Elvis simply turned his back on Eddie. Groaning, Eddie leaned back into the bean bag. How was he supposed to take care of this little guy?

The next couple of hours were a trial of patience for Eddie. Bit by bit the other guinea pigs started to become comfortable around Eddie - accepting the neatly cut veggie strips he offered them in an attempt to gain their trust. They even let him touch them and ate right out of his hand after some time. But Elvis? Hell no. There was no sign he started to trust Eddie. No matter what Eddie tried - pea flakes, grapes, cucumber or even blueberries - Elvis wouldn’t even look at him.

Slowly Eddie became frustrated, even anxiously because Elvis simply wouldn’t eat anything other than hay. After countless rejections Eddie searched through your kitchen, not actually knowing what he was looking for. He let out a sigh, his fingers running through his hair, about to give up, when finally he found a big bush of parsley taking up the space of the kitchen's windowsill. “Okay, one last try” he declared and gently picked a few twigs.

With the parsley in hand Eddie sat down on the bean bag again. “Hopefully this’ll work” he said before he tried to lure Elvis out of his hiding place. And miraculously it was working. Slowly Elvis’ nose peeked out of the little plushy tunnel he was hiding in. And it didn’t take long before, paw after paw, he followed the smell of the parsley in Eddie's hand.

“So you’re just like everyone else,” Eddie stated, grinning like an idiot, “Everyone is corruptible, even a guinea pig like you.” Relieved Eddie watched the little guy munch on that parsley. The little triumph filled Eddie with so much pride, he was convinced that there was nothing stopping him from successfully completing this quest. Even though Elvis was still on high alert, inspecting Eddie attentively and freezing every now and then when Eddie dared to move ever so slightly, it was another small step in the right direction, another piece of the puzzle that was earning the trust of these tiny creatures—Elvis, most of all.

Every morning, he would sit by the cage, reading softly from Howl’s Moving Castle, carefully offering treats, and speaking in his gentlest tone. The other guinea pigs had started to warm up to him, now eagerly gathering around whenever they saw or heard him coming. But Elvis remained stubborn, only occasionally poking his nose out to observe the others before retreating back into his hideaway.

Eddie found himself growing more and more determined. There was something about the challenge that made him even more committed to winning Elvis’s trust. Maybe it was because you had entrusted him with such an important task, or maybe it was because he recognized a kindred spirit in the little guy—a fellow outcast, wary of letting others in.

On the third day, a breakthrough happened. Eddie was lying on the floor next to the cage, chin resting on his hands, his voice low and soothing as he read another chapter. He hadn’t noticed at first, but slowly, ever so slowly, Elvis began to inch closer to the entrance of his wooden house. Eddie kept reading, trying not to make any sudden movements. After what felt like an eternity, Elvis crept out just enough to sniff the air, his tiny whiskers twitching.

Eddie’s heart raced. He didn’t move, barely even breathed, as Elvis cautiously approached the bowl of veggies. The little guy sniffed around, eyes constantly flicking up to keep Eddie in sight. But eventually, he started to nibble on a piece of lettuce, his guard seemingly lowered. Eddie smiled to himself, feeling a surge of triumph. Maybe, just maybe, they were slowly starting to understand each other.

But getting Elvis to eat in his presence was one thing; getting him to trust Eddie enough to be touched was another. Every time Eddie tried to reach out, Elvis would dart back into his house, and they would be back to square one. Frustration gnawed at Eddie, but he refused to give up. He tried everything he could think of—different treats, talking to Elvis in even softer tones, staying as still as a statue whenever the guinea pig ventured out. But nothing seemed to work.

One afternoon, after another failed attempt to coax Elvis out, Eddie slumped onto the couch, feeling defeated. He had a sprig of parsley in his hand, the latest in his arsenal of treats, but Elvis wasn’t biting—literally or figuratively. Eddie absentmindedly twirled the parsley between his fingers, thinking about what he might be doing wrong. Then, a thought struck him. He remembered how you had once mentioned that animals, especially small ones like guinea pigs, relied heavily on scent. Maybe Elvis was so attached to you because he associated your scent with safety.

Eddie searched through your apartment until he found a little cupboard in the bathroom, filled with makeup, different sorts of hairspray and a few little flacons of perfume. He stared at it for a moment, the idea forming in his mind. It was ridiculous, wasn’t it? But then again, everything else had failed. What did he have to lose?

With a determined sigh, Eddie grabbed the bottle and spritzed a small amount on his hoodie. The familiar scent filled the air, a mix of something floral and earthy, like freshly cut grass. He couldn’t help but smile a little—this was so absurd it just might work.

Feeling a bit silly, but hopeful, Eddie returned to the cage. He gently placed the parsley in front of Elvis’s hideaway and then sat back, waiting. Eventually, Elvis emerged, sniffing the air as usual. But this time, something was different. His tiny nose twitched more rapidly, almost excited, and he stepped out a little farther than usual, his gaze fixed on Eddie. The guinea pig’s hesitation seemed to lessen, and to Eddie’s astonishment, Elvis slowly made his way over to him, stopping just short of where Eddie’s hand rested on the floor.

Eddie’s heart pounded as Elvis sniffed at his hand, clearly intrigued by the scent. He stayed perfectly still, allowing the little creature to take his time. Finally, with what seemed like a deep breath of resolve, Elvis nudged the parsley with his nose and then—almost miraculously—climbed into Eddie’s lap. Eddie was so shocked he barely dared to move. But Elvis, after a moment of careful observation, seemed to decide that this strange new version of Eddie was okay, settling down on his lap.

Eddie let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Gently, he raised a hand and started to stroke Elvis’s soft fur. This time, the guinea pig didn’t flinch or run. Instead, he let out a tiny, contented squeak, closing his eyes and stretching out his legs as Eddie continued to pet him. Eddie grinned like a fool, feeling like he’d just won the lottery.

Eddie had settled into a routine with the guinea pigs over the next couple of days. He'd spend his mornings preparing their veggies, carefully slicing them just the way you had shown him, then patiently coaxing Elvis out of his hideaway with a mix of treats, soft words and the scent of your perfume. Though Elvis had finally started to warm up to him, Eddie still found himself with plenty of downtime as the guinea pigs quietly went about their business.

That afternoon, as the guinea pigs dozed off after their midday snack, Eddie found himself drawn to his guitar, which he had brought along just in case he needed something to pass the time. He hadn’t played much since he’d been focused on the guinea pigs, but the itch to strum a few chords was starting to get to him. So, he grabbed his guitar and lay down on the floor, fingers absentmindedly picking at the strings.

He started with something soft, just a few random chords, not really thinking about what he was playing. The sound of the guitar strings filled the room, blending with the soft rustle of hay from the guinea pig cage. Eddie smiled to himself, feeling the familiar comfort of the guitar beneath his fingers.

But as he relaxed into the music, his fingers instinctively drifted into a familiar riff—Metallica's "For Whom the Bell Tolls." The heavy, thrumming notes reverberated through the room, and Eddie couldn’t help but get into it, his fingers moving more confidently across the strings as he lost himself in the music.

He was just starting to really enjoy himself when he noticed something strange. The peaceful quiet of the room had been interrupted by a series of sharp, disapproving clicks. Eddie paused mid-riff and looked over at the cage, where all five guinea pigs were wide awake, teeth chattering in what could only be described as intense disapproval.

Eddie raised an eyebrow, his fingers hovering above the strings. "Seriously, guys?" he muttered, half-amused, half-offended. He plucked another string experimentally, and the chattering grew louder, the guinea pigs shifting restlessly in their cage.

He chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "What, you don’t like Metallica? I thought you guys had better taste than that." But the guinea pigs weren’t having it—every time he strummed a chord, their chatter became more insistent, as if they were staging a tiny, furry protest.

Eddie couldn’t help but laugh. “Alright, alright, I get it. No Metallica,” he conceded, setting his guitar aside with a grin. “Guess you’re more into the easy-listening stuff, huh?” He rolled onto his back, looking up at the ceiling with a sigh. “Can’t believe I’m getting critiqued by a bunch of guinea pigs,” he muttered to himself, a smile still tugging at his lips.

The room fell back into a peaceful silence, the guinea pigs settling down once more as Eddie let the moment wash over him. He was still smiling, even as he turned his thoughts back to the challenge of getting Elvis to trust him completely.

A few minutes later, he picked up his guitar again, but this time, instead of metal, he gently strummed a softer melody—something calm and soothing, more to the guinea pigs' taste. The chatter subsided, and Eddie felt a small sense of victory as he noticed them relaxing again.

As the days passed, Elvis began to venture closer and closer to Eddie. The once hesitant little guinea pig now seemed less afraid of the strange man who had taken over his home. Eddie noticed the subtle changes—how Elvis would come out of his hiding spot more often, how he’d eat his veggies with less hesitation, and how he’d sometimes watch Eddie with what looked like growing curiosity.

One afternoon, after hours of reading aloud and playing soft melodies on his guitar, Eddie felt the weight of the day catching up to him. The warm afternoon sun filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. The rhythmic sounds of the guinea pigs munching on their food, coupled with the cozy warmth of the bean bag, lulled Eddie into a sleepy daze.

Before he knew it, he had dozed off, his head resting against the back of the bean bag, his breathing slow and steady.

Unbeknownst to Eddie, Elvis had also grown sleepy. The little guinea pig had gradually moved closer to the side of the cage nearest Eddie, his tiny body finally relaxing as he curled up in a pile of hay. For the first time since you had left, Elvis drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep, feeling safe with Eddie nearby.

About an hour later, Eddie stirred awake. His neck ached slightly from the angle he’d been sleeping in, but as he stretched and rubbed his eyes. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but the nap had been surprisingly refreshing. He turned to check on the guinea pigs, expecting to see them scurrying around or nibbling on some hay.

But then he noticed Elvis, who was still lying in the same spot, completely still. Eddie’s smile faded as a pang of worry shot through him. He leaned closer to the cage, his heart starting to race. Elvis wasn’t moving at all.

“Elvis?” Eddie called softly, tapping the side of the cage. “Hey, buddy, you okay?”

There was no response. No twitch of the nose, no flutter of the ears—nothing. Eddie’s mind immediately jumped to the worst-case scenario. Was Elvis…? No, he couldn’t be. But the stillness, the lack of movement, made Eddie’s stomach twist in fear.

Panic set in as Eddie quickly reached out to gently pet Elvis’ white crest, his hands trembling. “Elvis, come on, don’t do this to me,” he murmured, trying to nudge the guinea pig gently. But Elvis remained motionless, his tiny body limp and unresponsive.

“Oh god,” Eddie breathed, his voice tinged with desperation. “Y/N’s gonna kill me. I’m so sorry, Elvis, I didn’t—”

He froze mid-sentence, his brain scrambling for a solution. Maybe Elvis was just in a deep sleep, right? Maybe he just needed a little incentive to wake up. Eddie’s eyes darted around the room, searching for something—anything—that might help.

Then he remembered the parsley. Seemingly Elvis’ favorite thing to snack.

Practically diving for the drawer, Eddie grabbed a sprig of parsley, his hands shaking as he brought it up to Elvis’s nose. “Come on, little guy,” Eddie begged, holding his breath and praying to whatever god might hear him right now. “I know you love this stuff. Just wake up, please.”

For a moment, nothing happened. Eddie’s heart pounded in his chest, and he was on the verge of full-blown panic. But then, just as he was about to lose hope, Elvis’s nose twitched. It was barely noticeable at first, but Eddie’s sharp eyes caught it. Then, slowly, Elvis’s whiskers twitched, and he took a long, deep sniff of the parsley.

Eddie nearly sagged with relief. “Oh, thank God,” he muttered, watching as Elvis’s eyes fluttered open, the guinea pig groggily lifting his head to nibble on the parsley. The sight of Elvis happily munching away, casually as if nothing happened, made Eddie laugh out loud, though his laughter was shaky with the remnants of his panic.

"You scared the hell out of me, you little rascal,” Eddie said, his voice filled with both amusement and lingering relief. He gently stroked Elvis’s fur as the guinea pig chewed contentedly, seemingly unaware of the scare he’d just given Eddie.

Eddie sat back on the bean bag, his heart rate gradually returning to normal as he watched Elvis eat. The little guy had just been in a deep sleep, completely comfortable in Eddie’s presence. Eddie couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride—Elvis finally trusted him enough to sleep so soundly, something that seemed impossible just days ago.

Eddie chuckled to himself, shaking his head. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?” he teased, though his tone was affectionate. “But hey, at least I know how to wake you up now.”

For the rest of the day, Elvis stayed close to Eddie, either nestled in his hoodie or perched on his chest as Eddie lay on the couch. They watched TV together, with Eddie flipping through channels until he found an old movie that wouldn’t be too loud or scary.

When you returned that evening, the first thing you noticed was the unusual stillness in your living room. Expecting the usual rustling of hay and the soft chattering of your guinea pigs, you tiptoed in, not wanting to disturb whatever was happening. As you rounded the corner, the sight before you made you stop in your tracks, your heart melting instantly.

Eddie Munson, the chaotic, metal-as-fuck guy you knew, was stretched out on your couch, his wild curls splayed out on the cushion, with Elvis nestled snugly inside his hoodie, just below his chin. The two of them were watching some cheesy sitcom, but it was clear they were both on the verge of dozing off. Elvis looked completely at ease, his tiny nose twitching as he snuggled deeper into Eddie’s hoodie.

You had to stifle a giggle, half from the absurdity of the scene and half from the warmth it brought to your chest. You almost didn’t want to disturb them, but curiosity got the better of you. “How the hell did you do that?” you whispered, eyes wide with amazement. Elvis had always been so fixated on you, never letting anyone else get near him, let alone cuddle up like that. Not even your closest friends or family had managed to gain his trust like this.

Eddie stirred at the sound of your voice, blinking groggily as he turned his head to look at you. A slow, sleepy grin spread across his face when he saw the look of disbelief on yours. He glanced down at Elvis, who remained contentedly curled up, his little body rising and falling with Eddie’s steady breaths. “Oh, this?” Eddie said with a playful smirk, his voice still heavy with sleep. “I found out he’s a sucker for parsley. And, well… your perfume.”

Your eyes widened as you stepped closer, leaning in to catch the familiar scent lingering on Eddie’s hoodie. Sure enough, there it was - your perfume, the one you always wore. The realization hit you like a warm wave, making your heart flutter. “You’re wearing my perfume?” you asked, half amused, half touched by the gesture.

Eddie chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “What can I say? Figured if I couldn’t be you, I could at least smell like you. Gotta say, I think it’s working. Might have to start wearing this stuff all the time, I think it suits me, don’t you?” He winked, clearly enjoying your reaction.

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Ridiculously charming,” he teased, raising an eyebrow as if daring you to disagree. “I mean, it worked, didn’t it? This little guy’s all about the Munson charm now.” He gently stroked Elvis’s fur with the back of his finger, the guinea pig letting out a contented little purr in response.

“Looks like he’s not the only one,” you muttered under your breath, though a smile tugged at your lips as you said it.

Eddie’s grin widened as he caught your words, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “Is that so?” he drawled, his tone light but his gaze warm.

You rolled your eyes, but there was no denying the flutter in your stomach. “Maybe,” you replied, your voice just above a whisper.

For a moment, the room was quiet, filled only with the soft sounds of the sitcom. You gently draped a blanket over Eddie and Elvis, who both looked completely content in their shared little cocoon. The sight of Eddie, usually so loud and full of energy, lying there with your favorite guinea pig snuggled up against him, melted away any lingering doubts you had about him.

“Thanks for taking care of them,” you said softly, your hand lingering on the blanket for just a moment longer than necessary.

“Anytime,” Eddie replied. “I kinda get it now. Why you’re so into these little guys. Elvis is pretty cool once you get past the whole ‘tiny ball of anxiety’ thing.” His voice was sincere, though the playful glint in his eye remained. “But just so you know, I’m expecting a bonus for going above and beyond the call of duty here.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And what kind of bonus are we talking about?”

He grinned, tilting his head slightly as he looked up at you. “How about dinner? You know, as a thank you. And maybe you could tell me more about this perfume - I’m thinking of making it my signature scent.”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Dinner, huh? I suppose I owe you that much.”

Eddie’s smile softened, his teasing fading into something more genuine. “You don’t owe me anything,” he said quietly, “but I wouldn’t mind spending more time with you. And Elvis, of course. We make a pretty good team.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and as you looked down at the two of them, the warmth in your chest spread until it felt like you might burst. Maybe there was something special here - something you hadn’t expected to find.

“Well,” you said, your voice soft, “I guess dinner it is.”

xxx

I wrote this just for myself because I miss my little diva so so much. But I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. The picture above is one of my favorites, Elvis in his favorite blanket, sleeping on my hand.

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