#deadite!reader

[sijssjsbssjsnsnnskbskwns]

Hell of a summer (what songs I think match the vibe) (part 2)

Movie summary…

Y/n L/n

[scarletblink]

Deadite!Ellie: Open up now, like a good girl.

Y/N: ...

Y/N: *spreads legs*

[thegamingcatmom]

Guys guys guys, my head´s a mess rn. I-

...You had to admit though, perhaps you should have locked that door like Ellie had demanded suggested. How utterly ridiculous of you to believe your undead companion would actually heed your wishes for once, simply because she loves and adores you, because that´s what people in healthy relationships do- ...Right. Back to business.

The plan was to finally finish my response to that ask that´s been sitting in my inbox for way too long, apologies to whoever sent it! 🙏

But, instead, my brain decided to take that obsession for Momma(s) to the next level. And, well, when inspiration strikes-

I will post that ask some point soon, if it´s the last thing I do. 😤

But, until then...

.

.

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Bonus (mayhaps):

[mxdamred]

Coup De Grâce - Deadite Ellie x OC/Reader - Chapter One

"and the devil who had deceived them was thrown into the lake of fire and sulfur where the beast and the false prophet were, and they will be tormented day and night forever and ever" Revelation 20:10

Or...

Greta is a God-fearing, wannabe actress with a particularly strange family history, and an impressive talent of stumbling upon disgusting scenes. When tragedy strikes her home in an old LA high-rise, she quickly realizes her fate may be much more twisted than she was brought up to believe.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6,349

TW: Religious Trauma; Gore; Suicidal Thoughts; Violence; Everything in Evil Dead Rise.

---------

This building is dead.

It died a month ago when the landlord dropped letters in our mail slots letting us all know we have to be out by next month. He didn't even give us the courtesy of calling, just a print and copied half-assed apology letter to the tenants who pay out their livelihoods every month in rent so he can buy a new Ferrari and not fix the lights.

It’s not that I want to be here, particularly. There is just no other apartment on this side of LA that I would be able to afford. No others would even consider me, if I could. No stable job and a 480 credit score doesn't bode well with most landlords.

A category 5 earthquake was just a death blow, and exactly what I needed to truly understand it was, in fact, God's will for me to return to Tennessee.

The apartment is nearly pitch dark, even with the couple of candles I lit. A blackout coming with the aftershocks while I was packing explains a lot about how my luck has been the past few weeks. It’s as quiet as the dead, aside from the typical moans and groans of the old building. If my neighbors weren't stomping around, I would consider it eerie. 

I sit on a rickety stool that came with the place as I sort through my papers. Every tiny shift in my body causes the stool to creak and groan, just like the rest of the wretched building, so I try to be perfectly still.

The candlelight picks up my papers just enough for me to sort through them and chuck them into boxes- or the trash. It's nearly 10:00 and on a normal night I wouldn't keep packing, especially during a post-earthquake blackout, but I want out of this place as quickly as possible, and if I have to suffer for a while to do that, I will. 

I pick up a folder on my desk, and even in the dark I recognize it as my portfolio- or my pathetic excuse of one. I open it up to see my year-old headshots and my resume. I’ve never been a bad actress, particularly, I’ve just been bad at landing roles. Sure, maybe I didn't work hard enough to find a manager, but even if I had, my off-screen charisma has always been lacking. I scored one decent role in a film, only for it to be scrapped halfway through production. But I have kept trying, I tried theater, I tried commercials, I even tried volunteering into the musical theater at my local church; I’ve tried lots of things.

Because my father left me on this earth alone, and try is all that I can do.

I need to keep living, for reasons undisclosed to even my own mind.

I tell myself that my father left because God wanted him to come home. He spent years of his life driving out evil spirits, freeing tormented souls from the clutches of the Devil, and maybe God thought his work was done? I like to believe that over the probable truth that his fear overcame him; that what he has been running from his entire life finally caught up to him. There is a devotion to God and, with it, a fear of the Devil that has been passed down for generations throughout my family. My father, and many men before him, suffered because of it. 

But if God called my father home, what does that tell me about our home? Does God not care about our family? Why wouldn't he take both of us? No matter what I have done to myself after he died, the agony I have both endured and inflicted upon myself, I am still here. So maybe I do have a purpose on this earth. Or maybe God doesn't want me in His Kingdom at all. 

I remain faithful that these thoughts are untrue. I pray to God every day and every night. I spread His word to those I meet, and I follow His guidance in everything I do, so maybe that’s why I'm still here. 

Packing my, and the rest of my fathers belongings a second time has my mind cruelly bogged with memories, scents, feelings; just pure sentimentality. I have never been host to it before, being estranged from the rest of my family young never granted me the privilege. I do not have the patience for it. My body aches as I look at my shattered dreams, and I feel something cold and awful prick at the throbbing muscle inside my chest, frigid claws that dig deep into my being and tear away so subtly.

My anger gets the better of me and I throw the folder into the trash, causing it to topple over and spill papers and garbage all over the floor. Tears of exhaustion and frustration well up in my eyes, and I grip the sides of my head in my hands and bite back a scream. I will not let myself cry over this. I created this problem, I have to dig -or well, clean- myself out of it. 

I admit, I am an exposed nerve, and have been for the last year, my father's death having ripped off my epineurium.

I hop up from the stool, making it creak wretchedly, scraping the wooden floor, and I grab a broom from the kitchen to clean up the mess.

It’s because it is so quiet that I hear footsteps outside my door.

In most apartments, this wouldn't come as a surprise but considering I live around a corner, at the end of the hall, on the top floor, it’s a bit odd to have foot traffic this late. I tend to be left alone down here, no one vying to get in aside from the rats and dust bunnies.

I keep cleaning, because if someone has come to rob me, they will surely be disappointed, and if they have come to kidnap or kill me, my weak body and dry-rotten broomstick surely aren't going to stop them.

The steps draw closer, and I can hear their breathing; sharp, heavy, fast. The pattering footsteps stop but the breathing doesn't, however it draws farther away.

My curiosity gets the best of me, and I slowly approach the peephole in the door. I take in a deep breath only to relax when I see it’s one of the neighbor kids, peering around my little back corner out into the long-stretched hallway with the other apartments. I can’t see that hallway from my room, however.

The moment of relaxation is cut short as I realize the kid is crying. His eyes are wide and red, and his breath is quick, like a rabbit being hunted by a fox.

Then I hear a scream coming from the hallway.

Then another.

Then another.

The child is still hiding around the corner and even though I can’t see what he’s hiding from, everything in my nature tells me it is something he needs to get away from, now. I go to open the door and before I can unlock the deadbolt, the kid takes a mad dash down the long hallway.

…

……

...……

Another scream.

A thud.

My eyes well up in tears of panic and fear as I stand frozen, staring out of the peephole. I see nothing, but I hear everything.

Screaming, crying, ripping, squelching, banging, a gunshot.

Laughing.

Across that sequence of events, which lasted all of 3 minutes, I decided to make peace with death. Because it is all that I can do.

Then it goes quiet again. This time the quiet is eerie. No loud neighbors, no footsteps, nothing.

The air at the top of the high rise is thin, always has been, but trying to breathe it in during a panic feels like there is no air left at all. My hands shake, my chest feels as if it is about to explode. I unlock my cell phone and dial 911 only to be met with a repetitive beep. The earthquake took out the cell towers, of course. Self-preservatory panic overstimulates my senses and I drop to my knees at the door in a terrified heap. I cannot stop the sobs that choke out of my throat, and I fear even my body knows that whoever- or whatever is out there is going to come for me soon.

I clasp my hands and bow my head as I sob out the only thing I can “The lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside still waters; He restores my soul. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death; I fear no evil; for you are with me.”

I whisper prayers until my voice is hoarse. Because that is all that I can do. If anyone saw me at this moment I would be mortified. My neighbors are being attacked just outside my door and I have done nothing . But what can I do? Face a mass murderer by myself. Whoever is out there hasn't been stopped by the entire floor of people. They're a predator, and I am just as much a lamb to be slaughtered as anyone.

What I do need, is to get out of this place.

My mind is frequently unreliable, especially with time, however I have been hyperfocused on sounds tonight and I can confidently say the hallway has been pretty silent for at least 10 minutes now.

This can mean one of two things:

Everyone here except me got the hell out of this building, because they didn’t hide in their apartments like cowards, and the authorities are on their way.

Or everyone here except me has been killed, because they didn’t hide in their apartments, and ran out like idiots, and I am just waiting for my turn to face death as well.

Regardless of the right answer, staying in my apartment is going to get me nowhere. The only available exits are the elevator -which is a terrible option post-earthquake- or the stairs, both of which are at the end of the hall.

I get up from my heap on the floor and scour my apartment to grab the rest of my essentials to get out of here. I toss my phone, keys, wallet, and bible all into my purse, and I slowly and quietly unlock the deadbolt.

The moment I put my hand on the door handle to pull it open I feel my stomach sink and my body tense. The narrow hallway feels like a chute, and I feel as soon as I turn the corner my executioner will be waiting with a captive bolt ready to be driven into my skull. 

I take two quiet steps outside my door towards the other hallway and I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and my heart threatens to crash its way out of my chest, sending a painful wave of thunder to my wrists and my neck. The sheer force of my blood pressure reverberates into my ears. I keep my body to the wall and clutch my bag to satisfy my brain’s need to have leverage and I use every ounce of courage in my body to peer around the corner into the hallway and-

Corpses.

There are corpses.

Horrifying, mutilated corpses of my neighbors. The corpse of the child who, if I was a second faster, could have been brought into my apartment.

Skin sloughed from muscle, muscle from bone and I am sick sick sick sick si-

The putrid, infectious scent of bile, blood, and exposed flesh makes its way to me, and by some miracle I do not vomit but my body doubles over, and my eyes and mouth are pooling while a black haze creeps into the borders of my field of view.

When I glance up, the sensible part of my brain makes my obscured vision focus on the only thing still moving in the hallway.

I, as anyone who knew her would, recognize her from the tattoos on her exposed flesh and the distinct red hair on her head, Ellie Bixler.

But very much not Ellie Bixler.

Her skin is pale and gray with death, and she is caked in blood and bits of everything that are no longer inside my neighbors' bodies. The curve of her arm is made jagged, and My God limbs are not meant to bend that way.

I suddenly believe that every prayer I have ever spoken has come to protect me at this moment, as she somehow does not notice me while she is focused on what I think is the door to her own apartment. I do not let my luck go to waste as I rush back behind the wall, out of sight of anyone in that hallway.

The quiet I got too comfortable with finally comes to an end in what I assume is the sound of her breaking, or trying to break through her door.

I peer around the corner like an idiot in some sick daze of infatuation when I hear the scream of a child.

Ellie is pushed halfway into her apartment, holding onto what I can only imagine is her youngest daughter, Kassie. Someone else inside the room comes to help as the door is slammed onto Ellie’s arm and she recoils back into the hallway.

She then throws herself into the door, furiously banging on it.

  “OPEN THE DOOR LIKE YOU OPEN YOUR LEGS YOU STINKING GROUPIE SLUT!”

 The voice sounds like a twisted, savage, faux version of my neighbor’s and I feel the overwhelming urge to vomit again as I dart back into hiding, and I take the opportunity of the noise to rush back to my apartment.

The contents of my stomach do end up on my floor after I close and lock the apartment behind myself.

I despise vomiting. Tragically, I was cursed with a weak stomach and an impressive ability to stumble upon revolting sights. A deadly combination only I could be so lucky to have. 

I do not think to clean up the vomit on the floor that will soon be covered in my own blood when I am inevitably found.

I quickly realize as my body autopilots into my bedroom, that spilling my guts combined with a severe spike in adrenaline has given me three things; sharp chest pain, energy renewal, and a massive degree of mania.

I now know what I need to do.

I haven't touched these books since I moved out of Tennessee, not that I should have. Every time they have been opened they consume the one who opens them. My father was constantly buried in these writings, wasting his life trying to make something of them. Something that would allow our family to repent from the sins of our ancestors. I have never been so unlucky to read them, until now.

I know exactly where I hid them. I drop to the floor in front of the old, dusty armoire that came with the apartment, that definitely should have been thrown out years before I moved in here.

I flatten myself on the splintery floor and snake an arm under it, finding what I was looking for. I pull out the wooden box and rise to my knees as I pop open the latch. There is a stack of 3 handwritten journals. Journals scrawled by my great-great Grandfather, Marcus Littleton.

My body quivers, and adrenaline and fear flow through my veins as I pull one of the journals out of the box, illuminated by the moonlight.

I take the box and journal to my desk. I re-light the candle upon my desk and I open the treacherous tome up. My heart is frightened; however, my mind is set.

I have heard my father describe demons for the entirety of my life. ‘Twisted, rotting corpses intent on causing chaos, destruction, and pain everywhere they are found.’

I never fully believed his tales. Of course I didn’t, there was never any public recordings of such events. His stories were from the 1920’s, it could have been nothing but hearsay. Hearsay that he lived and died for. Hearsay that, if I do nothing, I will also die for. 

He never let me touch these books when he was alive, he kept them hidden for himself. When I inherited them, I never opened the box. Partially because I respected my fathers wishes, partially because I didn't want to become consumed in them as he was. My father and I always were alike.

The handwriting of my great-great grandfather is sloppy, and every word is abbreviated, shortened, or misspelled. These books were scrawled in a panic. I knew this. I was, however, never told the extent. I skim through the most legible parts of the pages, many words and phrases unreadable.

“The words I uttered have unleashed a demonic entity beyond my darkest nightmares”

“The book, it cannot be destroyed.”

“Their bodies twisted, decaying.”

��Rotted from the inside out.”

“It does not stop.”

“The possession will spread.”

“They will tear you apart, and bathe in your guts.”

“Run.”

“It cannot be stopped until innocence is destroyed.”

“I cannot escape this.”

“It's going to get me soon.”

I slam the book shut. My body trembles so wildly I begin to spasm. My heart is beating as fast as a racehorse’s and my breathing refuses to slow. The fear of being discovered from the thing just outside my apartment is the only thing keeping me from screaming.

The chicken scratch writing described a book. I have heard about this book for years. A book that was hidden away for the good of humanity. My father wanted to keep us as far away from Los Angeles for a reason. He never knew where the book was hidden away, but he knew it had to be here.

And of course, it would make total, logical sense, that by some absolute joke from God, out of all the old buildings in this city, I manage to land an apartment in the one the book was being held at.

Or perhaps I really am cursed, and some sick string of fate brought me here to die and end my family's bloodline.

The only way this could be happening is if someone found the book. My father always said, ‘They have no power without the book, so long as the words aren't spoken.’ I’m hoping he is right. If he is, maybe there is something in the book that can be used to save whoever is left in the building. Something my great-great grandfather missed.

There is only one problem.

I have absolutely no idea where the book is.

This building has 14 floors, and hundreds of tenants. It would be nearly impossible for me to find it without a mass murderer trying to kill everything in its sight. 

The chaos does seem to be contained to this floor, and by the looks of it, Ellie is the only one causing it. That could potentially narrow it down to someone on this floor having it, unless of course Ellie was just the unlucky one, in the wrong place at the wrong time. It could have been anyone. 

Ellie Bixler didn't deserve this. The journal said the souls of those taken were corrupted by the demon, damning them to burn in hell while their body and partial consciousness remains to wreak havoc among men. Ellie Bixler does not deserve hell.

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

Ellie Bixler was one of the first faces I saw when I moved to this treacherous place. Moving alone was a nightmare, especially moving alone into the top floor of a high-rise, into the apartment farthest from the elevator. 

I thought the nightmare was ending when I got to the last boxes in the truck. However, when I picked them up, and almost toppled over with the weight of them, I realized my bad luck streak continued. I glanced at the label on the top box and sighed—of course it would be my dishes. I hear the ding of the elevator and feel a sudden whoosh of thankfulness.

“Hold the elevator!” I called, hoping that whoever was inside of it heard me. But seeing as I didn’t run into the doors, they must have. “Thank you," I said breathlessly, in passing, and then slumped against the wall of the elevator, balancing the bottom box on my thighs.

“Do you need some help?”

I peered around my stack of boxes to see the woman who had been kind enough to hold the elevator door for me; she was still standing there, dressed in a Guns N’ Roses t-shirt, dark blue ripped jeans, and leather boots. She wasn't dressed like the women I grew up around in the Bible Belt, that's for sure. And judging by her dyed red hair and tattoos, I would guess she didn't act like them either. She was staring at me hesitantly with blue eyes that looked as exhausted as I felt.

“Oh, no, I’ve got it,” I said quickly, disappearing back behind the boxes once I realized I had been staring a few moments too long at the gorgeous, courteous stranger while looking like I had been hit by a bus. “Thank you, though.”

There was a soft hum of contemplation, and then, a few moments later, a swish of the elevator doors sliding closed. I slumped against the elevator wall, thankful that I wouldn't have to converse with my new neighbor while coated with dirt and sweat.

“I think I have to insist, then.”

I jolted up so quickly that the box on the top wobbled precariously, only for it to be slipped off the stack and into the arms of the tall stranger. I stared at her, eyes wide, as the woman slouched under the weight of the box and flushed, before straightening up and smiling at me. 

“Um.” I cringed at myself. What a way to be eloquent. “Thank you, but you really didn’t—”

“I know,” the woman smiled back. “What’s your number?”

I blinked in surprise.

“Excuse me?” There was no way this lady just asked for my number. Who did she think she was?

The woman’s mouth fell open and she was immediately blushing. Her brow furrowed and she chuckled awkwardly, shaking her head. “Your floor… Number. Is what I meant. For the elevator?”

Oh . I looked over at the rows of glowing white buttons; I hadn’t pressed the floor number when I rushed in.

“Oh, yeah! Right!” I replied awkwardly, still not looking at the woman. I shouldn’t have felt bad—after all, this stranger is the one who said it—but I couldn’t help feeling like I was the one who made everything uncomfortable.

“Fourteen,” I finally replied, sighing, after clearing my throat. The woman grinned, a big beautiful smile, and pressed the button.

“Well hello neighbor! I’m on 14 as well, apartment 85.” I looked back over at her sheepishly. “Expect to climb a lot of stairs. This elevator is out of order more often than it’s working.”

“Of course it is,” I commented dryly. Well, at least it appeared to be working on the day I needed it to be. Hopefully that luck holds true for grocery days, too. I thought. “Stairs aren’t a problem. Besides, it gives me an excuse to drink a third cup of coffee in the mornings.”

The woman laughed. “Sometimes I need at least five. Don’t have kids.” the stranger joked.

“You have kids?” I asked.

“Three.” She started, “Two sweet girls, Bridget and Kassie. And my boy, Danny, who is always the culprit if you hear loud music coming from my place.”

“Wow you've got a handful then.” I replied. “I’ve always wanted kids… but it doesn’t seem in my cards anymore.” I winced, and wanted to kick myself so bad for accidentally sounding super melancholic. 

The woman nodded kindly, smart enough not to pry. Or maybe she just didn't want to entertain depressing, deep conversation with someone she met less than 3 minutes ago. 

“I’d shake your hand…” the woman said, her voice hesitant as if she could sense the awkward tension in the elevator, “but…” she glanced pointedly at the box, and I couldn’t help but smile.

“I appreciate the concern for my dishes.”

“Dishes,” she said, staring at the box. “Well, that explains things.”

Like the fact that it’s a lot heavier than you thought it would be , I thought, and couldn't hold in my chuckle.

“My name’s Ellie.” The stranger—or Ellie, apparently—looked over at me. “By the way. Since we’re… Going to be neighbors.” This time, Ellie was the one who cringed.

“Well then, neighbor.” I stressed the word around my smile. “I’m Greta.”

“Greta.” Ellie said. My name sounded so pleasant coming from her lips compared to my own. I quickly eliminated that thought from my mind. 

“Ellie.” I intoned in the same manner, and Ellie laughed. The elevator dinged and the doors slid open; Ellie inclined her head, as if to say you first , and I nod as I step through the doors. 

“I probably should have warned you that I live all the way at the end of the hall.” I shifted the box in my arms and glanced over at Ellie. “Before you decided to be a good samaritan.”

“I’m always a good samaritan,” Ellie responded, her tone of voice slightly defensive.

“Careful. You told me where you live. I might abuse that.” That sounded a lot creepier than I meant it, but Ellie just laughed, which slightly lifted my embarrassment.

I stepped through the doors of my apartment. I didn’t expect Ellie to be impressed—chances are we had the same exact apartment, hers just… properly decorated—so rather than trying to play the role of host, I simply led Ellie straight to where I put the box containing my disassembled Ikea kitchen table.

Ellie did, however, let out a low whistle as she looked around.

“Wow, you’ve been at this all day, haven't you?” She slipped the box on top of the Ikea box while I laid mine on the floor. 

“Yes, tragically. I slept on the floor and left the truck full of my non-essential stuff last night. Looking back, I definitely should have gotten robbed.”

“Long drive then?”

“You could say that.. Knoxville.” I sighed.

“You're telling me you drove here… from Tennessee?” She looked at me, eyes wide in shock. “With seemingly no help?”

“Just me and god.” Ellie laughed at that, but then caught herself when she noticed my expression, and the cross on my necklace, and realized I was serious.

“Well, then… I’d be happy to help, if you’d like?”

“That’s really nice of you, Ellie, but I’m afraid you're just too late. Those were my last boxes.”

“I have impeccable timing, huh?”

“Seems like it.” We both laughed, a bit awkwardly.

“What brought you all the way to the City of Angels?” Ellie interjected, cutting the awkward tension once again.

I breathed a heavy sigh, “It’s a long story…”

“Well, you could tell it, if you come have dinner with me.”

I recoiled, “I couldn’t- No. No thank you, I really should start putting all this stuff away.”

Ellie put her hand on my arm, “I insist. My husband, Jay, is making steak tonight and when he cooks, he cooks for a village.” Not that 3 children isn't a village.

I flinched, then relaxed slightly under the hand on my arm, I looked up at Ellie, contemplating, but there was little I would do to argue. I was exhausted, and I shouldn’t decline free food, even from a stranger. “I suppose I can't say no.”

  ------------

That night was the first, and the only time in a long time I felt safe. 

I didn’t spend a lot of time with Ellie outside of that night. She was a very busy woman, and I was constantly trying to find work, or locking myself in my apartment stressing about trying to find work. I often passed her in the hallway, or stopped to chat while doing laundry, but that was the extent. For the most part.

We were also very different, spiritually and morally. She wasn’t religious and I was not going to try and convert an entire family of 5. Our lives were just very different, as much as I felt drawn to her. I often, for some reason, constantly had the gnawing ache to go back to her apartment and spend time with her, and just be in her presence more than I should. It’s a feeling I have felt before, when I was young, and something deep rooted in my consciousness told me I shouldn’t give into that ache.

‘For god cannot be tempted by desire, nor does he tempt anyone; but each person is tempted when they are dragged away by their own evil desire and enticed.’

I found out about her divorce when we crossed paths in the hall. It came as a shock, to an extent. Externally they seemed like the perfect couple, but being their neighbor, I had heard a fair number of screaming matches between the two of them. Divorce is something my family has always been against, especially when there are children involved; however, I believe that God would forgive Ellie if her husband abandoned her.

Ellie was a kind person; Ellie does not deserve Hell.

Ellie’s family –by the looks of it– is still alive in her apartment. As long as no one in the apartment has been possessed, it is possible they can be saved.

I just have to, you know, get there, without the demon in the hall ripping me to shreds before I take a step.

I sit at my desk, chewing on my cheek as I think out the most insane, ludicrous plan to save my neighbors, and to free my family from this book that has haunted us for generations. 

There is an estimated 10 percent chance of getting out of this alive, but there are little alternative options.

There was a shotgun in the hallway. 

If I can get ahold of it, and subdue Ellie long enough for her family to let me in, I can get ahold of the book, and with it, and my great-great grandfather's journals, I could find a way to get us all out alive.

That is, if they will even let me in, and if the book is even with Ellie’s family. This is where my odds drop further.

This plan is flawed. It is dangerous. It is stupid.

But I am all of those things, yet God has kept me alive, so perhaps there is hope to be found somewhere.

As I pack the journals into my bag, and I pull my largest and sharpest knife from the kitchen, I feel the full weight of my mortality sit upon my chest. 

I am mad for this.

But what is my life going to be otherwise? What did God keep me alive through so much for? I have to have faith.

I bear the knife in my hand, and wrap a rosary around my arm and wrist. My bible is held in my bag and I stand before the door to my death once again, praying for my father’s forgiveness if I mess this up.

As I carefully unlock the piece of wood separating me and the Devil, I go white-knuckled on my knife, and I feel bile begin to creep up. I am already out of breath due to panic, dissociating out of my mind, and trembling so forcefully that my teeth chatter. I bite my tongue until I taste blood, and I push open the door.

I am not sure how I want to do this, but planning now would only exhaust me further, and I need to think on my feet. 

Grab the gun, shoot the demon, get inside. 

I take a few, quiet, petrified steps into the hallway and look around the corner when I see-

Kassie?

Ellie’s youngest daughter is standing in the hallway, moving to help a young, dark-haired woman off the ground. From what I have heard, this is Ellie’s sister, Beth, whom I have heard referred to as ‘The Groupie’ from various neighbors.

Their attention turns to me, Beth looks shocked, eyes wide, as she moves to grab the shotgun from what I now sickeningly realize is the corpse of Mr. Fonda. 

The smell, Christ. I have sworn off vomiting again, but my body desperately wants to overrun my mind at this moment. I fight bile and slowly approach them. Kassie puts a finger over her lips, assuring I know to stay quiet.

Where are Bridget and Danny? I already know, at least, I should already know. My twisted mind does not choose to process that in the moment, only focusing on the two people merely 20 feet from me.

It is my fear that allows me a keenness to sound -even over my heartbeat in my ears- and I hear the cracking of glass and bone behind me as I begin to pass Ellie’s apartment.

No.

Please, God, don’t let this happen to me now. Not when I’m this close.

I freeze, because I am a prey animal, no matter what anyone says, in this building, right now, I am prey, and as a prey animal, I have developed the intuition of knowing when I am being watched. 

Its gaze is fixed on me, and I am all taut muscle and dilated pupils underneath it. I know it is behind me, and I know with every fiber of my being that I am going to die if I do not move.

But my body will not allow my muscles to relax enough to bend my limbs.

I am gripping the knife in my hand for dear life and my eyes are locked with Beth’s, who is, currently, my only hope in surviving this. The groupie raises the shotgun, and points it behind me. It is then that I decide to turn and look at-

There is a hand on my neck.

There is a hand on my neck. There is a hand on my neck. There is a hand on my neck. 

It is cold and wet and awful and I set my jaw and every muscle in my throat tenses more than they already were. My teeth threaten to break each other under the force caused by my fear. 

I attempt to drive the knife into the flesh behind me, when my arm is caught in the grasp of another hand. The grip is tighter than the sickeningly gentle hold on my neck, and its claws dig deep into the tendons of my wrist, making me scream out in pain, my eyes screwing shut as my hand involuntarily releases the knife.

There is a wet, breathy, crackling chuckle behind me, and the grip on my neck releases, and I open my tear-filled eyes, only to be thrown into the door across from Ellie's apartment. 

It is on me swiftly after that. It grabs my wrist again and pins it against the door, like it’s body alone wasn’t doing that enough. 

Its stare is predatory and piercing, nothing like Ellie’s once was. It is feral, and it's burning into me. Wide, consuming and unblinking as it stares down at me, I am drowning in it. Pupils like a pinpoint amongst a pale blue, scleras dark and bloodshot. 

It leans down for an awful moment, a pit forms in my stomach and I want to vomit as it licks the blood dripping down my forearm from its claws.

I look over its shoulder at Beth, who Kassie is hiding behind and gripping for dear life.

“Please.” It is my voice that pleads, but I have never heard myself so breathless nor shrill.

“Pl…ease.” The demon's voice mocks me, eyes still burning into mine. It's voice hoarse and deep and repulsive, but the thing that makes me want to upchuck more than anything, is that I can still hear Ellie's voice underneath it. Sweet, funny, no-bullshit Ellie Bixler, consumed by the Devil. 

Beth is looking at me now, fear in her wide eyes, as she aims the gun down sight for a moment, aiming directly at the demon. 

Pull the trigger.

PULL THE GODDAMN TRIGGER.

This is my apex of disaster. This is all that my mind has been made to handle. I have hit the limit of my unluckiness and hit it so damn hard I might as well have heard a comedically timed ‘bang’ and seen stars dancing around my head. 

Beth is unmoving, and my breath catches in my throat as I choke out a strangled sob when I see the woman mouth ‘I’m sorry’ before the shotgun it aimed at the door to apartment 82, and it is blasted open.

The demon before me jolts upright, but doesn't take its smothering gaze off of me, even when Beth grabs Kassie and runs through the door. 

My fate is sealed as the door slams behind her, and all that is heard is the clanking of the security chain lock, as Beth well and truly escapes.

Then there is a deafening silence…

…A pattering of footsteps…

…Heavy, excited, wheezy, panting.

An excited panting that is coming from the creature before me.

This is where my faith in God has led me. Like my father, and his father, and the father before him. All of my life, and all of their lives, have led to this very moment. My death will be the fated coup de grâce of our cursed bloodline.

I am crucified to my place, paralyzed from the neck down as it looks upon me. I am fated to be consumed by this monster. This is my destiny.

[alienguts]

Plasma (Ash Williams x f!Reader)

Summary: Ash comes home covered in blood, Y/N needs to get him cleaned up before he ruins the carpet.

Warnings: Blood (obviously), washing/bathing, fluff

Request?: No

A/N: I've still got the rest of a series to go through and a lot of smut to write, but I felt the need to write this down as soon as the idea popped into my head.

She’d never thought it could be possible, but Y/N could smell Ash before he even walked through the door. The unmistakable stench of iron and rotten flesh forced itself up her nose and made her stomach churn, threatening to bring up her lunch even though it had been hours since she’d eaten. As soon as she heard the lock click, she covered her face with her hand and braced herself for the mess that was about to enter the apartment.

“Honey, I’m ho-ome,” Ash called into the room, giving his best Desi Arnaz as he closed the door behind him and unknowingly smeared blood onto the handle.

He was about to take a step off the front door mat when he noticed Y/N sitting on the sofa with her mouth covered and her eyebrows furrowed.

“What?” he asked. “It can’t be that bad.”

“You smell like a dead body, Ash,” Y/N said, her voice muffled by her hand. She briefly took it away and tried to breathe in but immediately gagged, her stomach lurching. “You’re not stepping a foot into this apartment until you’re out of those clothes.”

“Are you asking me to strip for you?” Ash said, a sultry tone entering his voice. “Because you don’t need to ask me to do that.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and stood up from her seat, her hand still over her mouth.

“Don’t get any ideas, I just don’t want you tracking blood on the floor. The landlord will have my ass if it stains.”

Ash gave her a wary look and slowly started to kick his shoes off, watching for what she would do once he started to undress properly.

“Can’t I just get the rest off in the bathroom? It’s my shoes that are the dirtiest,” he said, just as a drop of blood fell from the cuff of his pants and onto the floor.

“Nope, you’re gonna stay on that mat.”

Ash groaned and lifted his feet, unaware of the bloody footprints he left behind. “C’mon, babe! Really, it’s not that bad.” Y/N crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him. “At least give me a hamper to put them in.”

“Okay, fine, just wait there,” she said and went into the bedroom to get the plastic bucket she used for especially dirty clothes.

As he bent over to take his soaked socks off, Ash noticed the bloody door handle he’d left behind him and shuffled away from the door before he left any more stains behind.

When he’d gone out earlier that night, he didn’t think that he’d come home soaked from head to toe in Deadite blood. He always expected fighting monsters to be a messy ordeal, but once blood and goo got on him he just had to bite his tongue and keep going. Especially when he got brains in his mouth.

He’d felt so strong on the drive home, so manly, and yet here he was standing on a cork doormat the size of a placemat being made to take all his clothes off. His fingers slipped on each button as he tried to undo them and wiping his hands on his clothes didn’t help at all. He was close to just ripping the stupid thing apart when Y/N returned with the hamper for him to dump his soiled clothes into.

“Here, let me help,” she said when she saw him struggling. She cringed as she touched the cold fabric but managed to release each of the buttons with more ease than he could and tugged the bottom of the shirt out of his waistband as he shrugged the sleeves off his shoulders and pulled his arms out.

Once the shirt was off and in the hamper, she moved into the kitchen to grab a roll of paper towels and ripped off a couple of pieces for him to wipe his hands on. And then some more when they soaked right through.

“I can get my pants by myself, honey,” Ash said when she reached for his belt, unbuckling it with ease and making quick work of the button and zipper before pushing his pants to the floor and dropping them in the hamper. “Want my underwear too?”

“Please,” Y/N said as she picked it up and held it out to him. She watched him drag his boxers down his hips and legs before making a show of dropping them into the hamper. “Thank you!”

“Now can I please get away from the door?”

Y/N looked him over, her eyes leisurely trailing from the top of his head down to the soles of his feet. Even though he was covered in blood and dirty and stunk to high heaven, she could have looked at his naked body for the rest of the night. Once she started to feel her eyes water and her nose burn she snapped out of her trance.

“Okay, go take a shower,” she said finally. “I’ll deal with these clothes.”

Ash sighed as he padded off to the bathroom, thankfully not leaving any bloody footprints as he went. Y/N placed the hamper in the kitchen sink and twisted the faucet until the water ran cold. She filled the basket until the clothes were completely submerged and swirled them around so that the blood could soak out of them properly.

Meanwhile, Ash shut the bathroom door behind him and reached into the tub to turn the water on as hot as he could get it. As he waited for the room to steam up, he unscrewed his metal hand from his wrist, removed it, and placed it in the sink to be cleaned later. He breathed in the steam and let it out slowly, rolling his tired shoulders and stretching his neck from side to side.

As frustrated as he was about how the night had gone, he couldn’t help but be grateful that Y/N took his clothes for him and washed them while he cleaned himself up. If he was still on his own he would have been stuck with bloodstained clothes, ruined shoes, and a shower that had pitiful water pressure. He kept that thought in his mind as he stepped up into the tub and stood under the shower head. The water was scalding hot and he knew he would be bright pink once he got out, but he’d worry about that later. He just needed to get clean and relaxed.

Once he couldn’t take the temperature anymore, Ash turned the heat down until the water was just comfortable to stand under and let it wash the blood and dirt from his skin. A cut on his left bicep that he’d ignored until then throbbed as it was cleaned and he winced when he moved the arm to pick up his washcloth from the shower caddy and draped it over his right wrist.

Just as he’d started to lather up the washcloth with soap, he heard the shower curtain move aside.

“Need some help?” Y/N asked, standing completely nude at the side of the tub.

“Please,” Ash sighed as he helped her in. 

She took the cloth from him and used it to wipe the blood away from his face, starting at the centre of his face and moving out with gentle strokes. He relaxed into her hands as she wiped him clean, being careful to not get the soap in his eyes before letting him turn into the shower spray to wash it away.

Once his face and neck were clean, she moved down to his shoulders, lightly squeezing and massaging any knots she could find in his muscles. When she moved down to his arms she noticed the cut and took care to be as gentle as she could with it.

“Sorry, honey,” she said when he winced and tensed his muscles. “Did one of them.. Y’know?”

“No,” he said as he shook his head. “It’s just a scratch, I’ll be fine.”

“I still want to bandage it up,” she said before softly kissing just above the cut.

They must have spent half an hour in the bathroom together, Y/N helping Ash to wash his hair and parts of his back that he couldn’t reach, and Ash returning the favour even when she said she didn’t need any help. By the time the water started to run cold and the bottom of the tub had turned from red to white, they were both squeaky clean and ready to get out.

“Ugh, I needed that after the night I’ve had,” Ash groaned when they were both dry and wearing pyjamas. “And the day I’ve had.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Retail is an absolute hellscape, sweetheart,” he said as he ran his hand through his wet hair. “Just be glad that you don’t work in it.”

“My work gets tough too, but you’ve gotta be tough for your job,” Y/N said as they made their way back to the living room together. “Both of them.”

Ash threw himself onto the sofa and almost melted into it with a deep sigh. “All I want right now is to eat dinner and get baked.”

“I had a feeling you would say that earlier today, so I ordered in.”

“You ordered dinner?” Ash asked, sitting up in his seat. 

“Not just dinner,” Y/N said as she grabbed her purse from next to the sofa and pulled out a tiny Ziploc bag that was full of tiny green leaves.

“Now this is why I love you,” he said with a huge grin as he stood up to take her in his arms. “You get me food, weed, and you take care of me. What else could a guy need?”

“That’s all fine and well, but you remember the deal.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll do the same for you when you have a bad day,” he said as he took the bag, already racing to get his rolling papers and a lighter, ready to spend the rest of the night in a dope-induced haze.

[csint3rlude]

MILLION DOLLAR MAN

non requested || ash williams x reader

summary: general dating ash headcanons

˚✧₊˚ word count: 0.6k || masterlist

ohhh this guy… he doesn’t play about you trust… genuinely goes insane if the deadites/just a general shitty person approaches you

however his reaction varies depending on who it actually is. if it’s just someone he doesn’t like or you guys mutually dislike or just a dick in general he gets all bitchy and pissy and casually (it’s not casual) swings his arm over your shoulders

it’s a little funny honestly because he also starts being sarcastic and lowkey making fun of the guy

but oh my god if it’s a deadite he is so pissed after he hacks that thing into the ground he’ll immediately be making sure nothing happened to you and that you’re alright and if you actually did get hurt AUGHHHH the next time the evil dead finds him he’s got a thing or two to say

other than that, he’s normally super chill. he’s not one of those super insane strict boyfriends who forbids basically everything, because he knows he’s not exactly the most safest person ever either but at least he’s aware of it

i feel like he’s very touchy. but specifically he likes to have his arm around you while he’s sitting or just standing beside you. idk he just kinda likes resting some of his weight on something (also he thinks it’s funny)

he would like.. not kiss you out of nowhere in the sense that you guys are literally in public and he’s like “pucker up”, he does it in the sense where he’ll just whisk you away randomly to really quickly make out and when you guys come back he acts like absolutely nothing happened, walks in all calm and collected like his tongue wasn’t just halfway down your throat

omg he’d love to just do random things with you i think. there’s a few things he absolutely refuses to do (usually he just powers through it for you if he doesn’t wanna but it’s not like something he REALLY doesn’t wanna do) like going outside if it’s too hot or cold, but he does love just driving around

he’d buy a SHIT TON of cds (i’m going based off evil dead btw. when aux isn’t a thing yet) and just have them stored in his car. some of them are just what he likes, some are just what you like, and a majority of them are for both of you guys <3

ash also likes going on side quests. if you guys are out doing something and you’re like “wanna skeddadle and go get _____” he’s grabbing the keys immediately with no questions he’d take any opportunity to just drive around with you

as much as he loves just driving around though he also loves just hanging out at your place or his place. if he makes dinner it’s like holy shit this is amazing but if you cook he acts like he hasn’t been fed since his birth and eats it up like a madman

ohhh sleeping over too. it’s ash so of course he tries to indulge in some adult activities but he also loves the non sexual side of it. like falling asleep beside you and waking up even closer together

cuddling with him is amazing because he also smells so good. whatever cologne he uses is the shitttt and he knows it smells good. he also mildly smells like s-mart (not always bad, sometimes he smells like food) and aftershave

ash is also like warm as hell. time spent together in the cold weather is usually just him trapping you in the bed (it is NOT bad at all) and sleeping or doing things where you can still stay warm like watch a movie idk

[vaporwavebeach-writes]

Kinktober Day 4 (Teratophilia)

Deadite!Ellie (Evil Dead Rise) x Reader (NSFW)

(1,351 words)

Summary: You’ve seen enough horror movies to know that having sex with the demonic version of your neighbor is dangerous.

Warnings/Tags: 18+, gender neutral reader, dead dove do not eat (seriously, this shit gets BANANAS), graphic depictions of violence, viewing the aftermath of a murder scene, stabbing, blasphemy (kinda), head trauma, breaking in, dubcon (ish), Ellie being mean, sadism, biting, scratching, monster fucking, oral sex

Notes: MAGGOT MOMMY <3 I had her specifically in mind for this one. I saw this with my friends over the summer and they thought I was CRAZY bc I said I could fix her LMAO anyway, enjoy the fic!!!

-

You’ve seen enough horror movies to know that hearing the loud thuds of people running and falling outside your door is dangerous. You’ve seen enough horror movies to know that hearing screams, bloodcurdling enough to know there was a threat is dangerous. You’ve seen enough horror movies to know that several gunshots, sending loud enough bangs to make your ears ring, is dangerous. You’ve seen enough horror movies to know that hearing laughter, full of malice, is dangerous.

So when you decided to peek your head out the door only to be met with the dead bodies of your neighbors, splayed out and bloodied across the hallway, you knew your horror movie knowledge wouldn’t be able to save you now.

The scent of death wafted around the hallway. Blood poured from the bodies of your poor neighbors. You were grateful to be situated at the other end of the hall, if you had a closer view to the emptied chasms of their insides, you were sure you would be sick.

At the end of the hallway stood Ellie. She looked dead. Her skin was pale, littered with bruises and cuts. Her deep red hair was matted. She was covered in blood.

Ellie? There is no way she could’ve done something like this. She was kind, always making sure to hold the elevator for others when they were running late. She took no-nonsense from anyone or anything. She had three children to take care of- all of whom you saw were being raised to be good people. She knew the neighbors. She knew you. She wouldn’t have done this to them.

Or at least that’s what you thought until you saw her prowl down the hallway. What you saw, wasn’t the Ellie you recognized. It seemed as if all her bones were broken, and put together the wrong way. Somehow, she moved like a wounded animal, but also like a dangerous predator. The sound of her heels dragging and scuffing against the floor along with the garbled coughs of your dying neighbors was a sound that was sure to stick with you for as long as you lived- which you assumed wouldn’t be much longer. As Ellie continue to stalk closer to your door, decided that if you were about to die, you wouldn’t go down easy.

Slamming your door and locking it, you arm yourself with a kitchen knife, and begin to pray. You can hear the thud of her footsteps stop. For a brief moment, you feel relief, until loud and heavy pounding starts to come directly at your door.

“God won’t save you now.” A hoarse, demonic, almost inhuman sounding voice taunts from the other side of the door. Mustering enough courage to look through the peephole, Ellie stares at you. Sunken, black circles surrounded her eyes, looking bruised and bloodied. Her eyes were no longer the bright blue you had seen flash you kind glances in the past, but a ghostly, milky white. Dead. Lifeless. Yet, there she stood outside your apartment, staring back out you through the peephole with a crooked and menacing grin.

“It’s so pathetic,” she says blankly. “Praying as if you think you’re going to make it out of here…” You grip your knife tighter. “As if God can even hear you.”

“Jesus, Ellie,” you reply, hushed. “What the fuck happened to you? You don’t look so good.”

“Ellie’s rotting in hell with the rest of your sack of shit neighbors!” She shrieks. You look away from the peephole as Ellie reels back and continuously slams her head against the door. The wood begins to splinter and crack, and you can only watch in horror as the woman you once called your neighbor, makes her way into your only safe haven.

“Mommy’s home.” She drawls distortedly. She sets her sights on you, creeping over surprisingly quick where you can feel her, just inches away from your skin.

Jamming your knife into the side of her skull, she pauses for a moment. Did you get her? Is she dead? You get your answer soon enough as she pulls the knife from her head and slams it right next your hand where she has you backed up on your kitchen table. Despite the dread churning in your stomach, the proximity of her body so close to yours was enough to spike your arousal, as well as fear.

“Such a pitiful sight,” she teases, as you feel the air of her breath on your neck. You let out an involuntary whimper, cheeks beginning to heat up. Ellie sees this and barks out a cruel laugh. Her hands move across your body, clawing and grabbing at every crevice. “You are such a coward,” she chides. “Letting a monster feel you up.” She was right and all you could do was nod. “I know you’d do anything to stay alive, right?” Her voice drops to a sweet tone. It’s sick to hear such a scary and mocking voice have such a sweet tone.

“…Yes” you grit out, shaking.

“It’s always the sluts like you that make the most delicious screams.” She smiles wickedly, before violently kissing and biting at your chest. Your shirt is practically torn open as Ellie pushes you down and pins you to the table.

Moving your hands up to touch her, Ellie painfully slams your hands above your head, back to the table. Her mouth continues wandering down your chest, teeth grazing over your nipple, threatening to bite. Your breath hitches, and you let out a pained moan when she finally does. Her teeth sink down on the sensitive flesh, and she does nothing but laugh as you writhe around her.

Her nails rake down the rest your body, surely hard enough to leave a mark. You let out a moan of relief when she unattaches from your chest. She sinks down to your arousal, ripping off the pants of your legs with terrifying ease.

“You are one sick, disgusting fuck,” She sighs with false disappointment. “So fucking horny while your neighbors die all around you…” The shame washes over you, but Ellie’s ministrations as she teases you through your underwear make it hard for you to focus on anything other than getting off. “I can smell how much you’re enjoying this, you pathetic whore.”

You let out a whine as Ellie coaxes you right to the edge, stopping just before the point of no return. She sinks down, spreading your legs, leaving you splayed out on your kitchen table.

“You must be completely fucking stupid if you think I would let you off that easily.” She jabs. Pulling off your underwear, you lay there on your table, while a feral, monstrous version of your neighbor starts to violently go down on you.

Her tongue is fast as it swipes over you. She’s messy and rough, leaving no spot untouched, chuckling and murmuring filthy phrases into your sex. Your back arches and you grip the edge of the table, white-knuckled, whimpering shamelessly. The table begins to shake as her arms sling over your legs, holding you down. Her grip is harsh, marks sure to be left behind. She bites into your inner thigh, which only further spurs on your wanton feelings, starting to reach the edge.

Looking over to your side, the bloodied knife stares back at you. In the midst of your euphoric high, you hatch an idea to stab this demonic version of Ellie while distracted, give you time to possibly escape.

You don’t have much time to waste. When your orgasm quickly washes over you, Ellie gets up, spying the knife as you swing it up. She catches it, blade going directly through her hand. In your hazy state, she smilies back out you with that same malice she’s had this whole time.

“Aw,” she taunts. “Did you really think that stabbing me again would put me down?” There’s that sadistic sweetness in her voice. She drops the act almost immediately, lunging at you with her hand around your throat. “That was a naughty trick, and naughty behavior deserves to be punished.”

[evildeadism]

deadite 101

ash williams x f!reader

word count: 4.4k plot: reader is home alone whilst ash is at work, the night takes a turn when she is attacked by a deadite. ash comes home and fears the worst. (intended to be post aod ash but can be imagined as any era tbh!) warnings: canon typical violence and gore, descriptions of injury, hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of nsfw and nsfw jokes, fluff, soft! ash, mentions of getting high, use of petnames (its ash, what do you expect)

a/n: ash williams is my fave fictional character ever yall, like the love i have for that man is insane...anyways! hope the like 10 evil dead enjoyers on this app like this!!!

You had said goodbye to Ash in the late hours of the afternoon just before he had left for his evening shift at S-Mart. It was just like every other day, the two of you had fallen into a comfortable routine after moving in together.

Ash would work shifts at S-Mart, you would also work and the moments spent together were nothing short of bliss. Getting high at night together whilst spinning a record and the weekend lay-ins after spending the morning fucking each other was also rather heavenly. Date nights were a movie, or maybe a trip to the bar and it would normally end up with the two of you hot and heavy in the back of the delta, which would often continue in your shared bedroom at the apartment.

It may not have been a lot for some people, but for you and Ash? It was perfect. You were happy, he was happy. It was heavenly. Except, of course, for that night.

The apartment building was illuminated by dim lights as you read quietly, the wind howling outside, a few raindrops hitting the window every now and then. Quickly you threw a glance at the clock on the wall. It was 10pm, Ash would be back at any moment.

Settling your eyes back to the book, you nestled into the warm blanket that had bundled you up on the sofa, a small sigh of content slipped past your lips as you slowly sipped on the wine you had in your hand. It was the kind of cozy October nights you’d see in the movies and you couldn’t wait for Ash to get home to share the tranquil scene with him.

The sound of the door opening echoed through the apartment.

“Ash, I’m in here!” You called out without looking up, turning the page of your book.

Silence. 

That was strange. He can usually never shut up when he first comes home from work, or ever for that matter.

“Ash?” You called out again.

Still no answer. 

You were quiet for a moment, listening for any sign of Ash or any kind of movement. But there was nothing, the apartment was still. Eerily still.

Your eyebrows furrowed, slowly placing the book down on the coffee table beside you. An unsettling feeling pooled into your stomach. Pulling off the blanket covers, wine glass still in hand, you peered down the hallway directly at the front door. It was wide open. The light in the hallway outside of your apartment flickered erratically, but there was no one in the doorway.

Your mouth dried as you licked your lips. “Ash, I swear to god if this is some kind of joke, I will kill you” You called out again. 

Silence.

Growing tired of this ridiculousness you marched to the door and slammed it shut. There was still no Ash to be seen anywhere. 

“Fuck” You whispered, facing the door. The gravity of the situation hitting you all at once. Ash always begged you, practically drilled it into you to keep the door and windows locked at all times after what had happened to him at the cabin. And so you did, but you weren’t quite as careful as he was.

You hadn’t experienced what he had, didn’t have the upper hand of witnessing just how fucked up the dead could be. And of course you believed what he said had happened to him was the actual truth, his recurring nightmares, lack of a right hand and the look in his eyes as he very rarely recalled it was anything but fake.

But that was his experience not yours. 

You reassured him time and time again that you were safe and always locked the doors but as time went on you had gotten sloppier, doubting the danger your boyfriend warned you of. Like tonight.

You had forgotten to lock the door after he left. And now there was someone in your house. You doubted that the villains Ash faced in that cabin those years ago were in your home but regardless, someone or something was.

The floorboards behind you squeaked ever so slightly, pulling you back to the present. At the sound your tear pricked eyes widened in horror as your breath became heavier and heavier by the second. Despite your brain screaming at you not to, slowly, oh so slowly you turned around.

A million things rushed through your mind, a murderer, thief and somewhere desperately in your mind you had hoped this was Ash pulling a stupid prank on you. But what you came face to face with was more horrifying than anything even the twisted of minds could’ve comprehended.

The person. No. Creature, in front of you looked like nothing short of a nightmare. Clothes ripped up and covered in dirt and blood, skin a pale and sickly gray peeling off and decaying in spots of blood and body matter, and the eyes? Oh the eyes, a terrifying striking white that pierced straight into you, through you. The wine glass you were holding fell through your now clammy and shaky hands, shattering into tiny pieces on the floor with a loud smash.

The, what once was a man, grinned slowly, baring its rotten and blood stained teeth. You tried to step back but your back met the door with a dull thud. A slight whimper escaped as you realized there was no clear way of escaping, not without a fight. 

“No, Ashy slashy here to protect you” It spoke in a horrifyingly deep and monstrous tone, tilting its head at you, that terrifying grin still sporting its face. 

Upon his words, your instincts finally kicked in, coming out of the paralysis that had held you still for so long and you instantly bolted to the left and into the kitchen, eyes immediately settling on the knife holder.

Always find a weapon first Ash had said to you once before, while giving you a cautionary 101 on killing a deadite This thing is not human, it is hardly gonna go down with just a kick in the nuts. You stretched your arm out leaping for the biggest butcher knife, fingers merely brushing the handle but the deadite was fast, too fast. A hand snaked around your calf and yanked you down with strength, your body slamming into the floor bringing the knives down with you, a large clatter to the floor. Without looking back you tried to reach for the knife closest to you on the ground but your leg was yanked harder, pulling you away from your only source of a weapon “No!” You cried out in fear. 

Another hand sneaked around your other calf and the thing started to pull harder, pulling your body towards him. You screamed in terror. Panic swarming your brain, vision going foggy.

Was this it? You thought to yourself. A death so quick and so painful. Leaving your corpse here for Ash to find, another loss left for him to mourn as if his sister, ex-girlfriend and friends weren’t enough. Now at some point, you’re probably gonna go into panic mode, you won’t be able to see, hear or even think about anything except for the inevitable gruesome death that awaits you. Well, good news! Death is only inevitable if you let it be inevitable. Are you gonna go out without a fight? No! Well, maybe if you’re a pussy but if you’re anything like me, you’ll clear your head and there’ll only be one thing on your mind. Survival. 

With a grunt and new found resolve you started to squirm out of its grasp fighting against its hold on you, arms reaching for the butcher knife. The deadite struggled against you as you heaved and writhed, slowly and slowly inching closer to your prize. Suddenly the deadite let go of your legs, without looking back or checking to see what it was doing you surged toward the knife until you felt something heavy on your back. With horror you realized, the deadite was crawling on top of you. 

Paralyzed by fear, you stopped struggling and involuntarily started to hold your breath. Everything was a painful quiet except for the deadites' ragged breathing coming closer and closer. Does it even breathe? You thought to yourself but the thought quickly died as you felt its torso press into your back, its face slowly entering your peripheral vision, mere inches away from your face, so much so you could smell the dank repugnant smell of death and rotting rolling off of the corpse. 

Slowly, as if not to disturb the deadite, you wiggled your fingers in search of the knife. Finally you brushed the handle and let out a breath of relief and victory but just as your hand gripped it, a much larger hand came down on your wrist and snapped it in the opposite direction. An ear piercing scream tore through you as waves of shock ebbed through your wrist, the deadites firm grasp still on your now limp hand as it laughed wickedly in your ear.

You shut your eyes in fear and whimpered quietly, tears rolling down your face. The deadite will corner you into a difficult position, but you can use this to your advantage, there is always a way out and if the deadite thinks it has you, its guard will be low. Now is the time to lay a blow to the sucker.

“Don’t cry, we’re just getting started'' It growled in your ear in that gravelly monstrous voice, followed by a low chuckle that sounded like the hordes of hell opening up. Gritting your teeth you prepared yourself for your attack, a guttural roar escaping you as you quickly lifted yourself up, using your working wrist and the limited body strength you had left and smacked your head into its chin. 

It let go of its grasp on you and instantly your working hand grabbed the knife, you leapt to your feet, turning around to face the deadite that was staring you down, teeth bared angrily. It was pissed. But so were you.

There's only so much cat and mouse you can take before the anger starts, and that is when you know you have a fighting chance. “Let’s go, fucker” You spat at it, the monster grinned, evidently entertained by your new found courage. With an angry scream you charged at the deadite with the knife in hand. Instantly it caught you by the throat and started to squeeze, your eyes bulged out of your head in shock, desperate for breath and head turning lighter and lighter by the second.

Your vision was starting to dip and your body started to feel like it was melting away before in the corner of your eye you saw the glimmer of the knife. You looked back at the deadite with wild eyes and rammed the knife through the wrist that was held up to your throat. It screeched in response and finally dropped your neck, stumbling back. 

Taking deep panicky gulps of breath, grateful to drink in the air you looked up cautiously at the deadite. Your hand ghosted over the throbbing on your neck, it was bound to be bruised soon. The deadite still had the knife embedded in its arm as it peered at you and a chill ran down your spine. In doubt, run.

You broke out into a sprint, eyes locking on the door but the deadite caught up, grabbing you forcefully by the hair and pulling you back, making you shriek in agony. It grabbed your waist and with a mighty strength, threw you down onto the shards of the broken wine glass scattered by the door. Glass shards pierced into your hands and arms catching your already injured wrist, scratching your cheek leaving a trail of crimson blood dripping down your face. 

Groaning in pain you slowly shifted your body to turn around, the deadite loomed above you pulling the knife out of its arm with a sickly squelch and throwing it to the side with a heavy clang. Hand feeling around the sharp glass, body tired and in an excruciating pain you looked up with weary eyes. The deadite lunged forward.

Remember, ANYTHING can be a weapon. In one swift movement you grabbed a large shard of glass and rammed it into its neck. You grabbed another shard of glass and plunged it into its right eye. With a high pitched scream it backed away slowly, howling in pain.

Weakly, you stood up with a wince. Stumbling towards the countertop you grabbed a heavy wooden chopping board and stalked towards the deadite and with a battle cry, in one fellow swoop, knocked its head so hard, you were almost positive its head would roll off. The crack of its neck reverberated in the apartment and with a thud, its body fell to the floor motionless.

You stared down at the seemingly dead corpse, panting heavily. This one is important, trust me, the dead can play dead pretty well. You have to completely destroy the corpse, to pieces. You smashed the cutting board into the deadite again, and again, until if it wasn't for the slight remnant of a face, it didn’t even look like a body anymore. 

Finally happy with your work you dropped the board onto the floor with a thick bang. You walked backwards and cradled your aching wrist, weary wide eyes never leaving the monster in front of you. And that, baby, is how you kill a deadite. 

                   __________________________________________

Even before Ash had entered the apartment he knew something was up, he always knew when it came to the deadites, of course that didn’t mean he had quite expected the scene that layed in front of him.

His eyes widened in horror as he saw the deadite corpse lying in the hallway. He instantly rushed in, but the sound of something crunching under his shoes drew him to a halt. Confused, he looked down to find shards of glass covered in blood. Dropping his stuff right there and then he looked around the apartment frantically calling out your name. Stepping carefully around the deadite and inspecting the mush that was once a body, “Definitely dead” Ash murmured, his eyes fell on the discarded knife just a few feet away from the corpse, he swiftly picked it up, just in case. Ash called out your name again.

“Ash?” A voice quietly responded.

Ash whipped around, to find you huddled in the corner. Resisting the urge to rush over to you immediately, Ash slowly crept towards the corner you had hidden yourself in, he knew all too well that if that deadite was truly dead then there was a chance the kandarian demon had now possessed you. Despite his mind screaming to make sure you were okay, first, he had to make sure you were really, well, you.

He couldn’t quite see your face due to the dim lighting of the apartment, and the corner you had crept into was particularly dark. He very quietly said your name, slowly advancing. Finally you looked up. Your face, though streaked with blood and tears, was yours. Ash let out a breath of relief, quickly dropping the knife and instantly running to your side. Slowly he sank to your height

You looked up at him with wide eyes, full of relief. “Ash, thank god” You breathed. His eyes frantically scanned you looking for any injuries, they widened when finding your bent wrist, carefully he took hold of it and moved it towards him. You whimpered in pain. “Shh, shh, it’s okay” He said. “You’re safe”

Continuing his scan he found numerous cuts along your arms, some even with shards of glass nestled deeply into the wound. “You need to go to the hospital, baby”

“Ash,” You hoarsely whispered.

“Can you get up?” 

“Ash-”

“These could get infected, we should go now”

“Ash!” You sharply called, finally gaining his attention. Ash looked up at you, eyes falling on your face, his gaze softened. 

“Fuck,” He sighed, eyes tracing the cut on your face, his non-metal hand softly came up to your cheek, you nestled into his hand beyond relieved to feel his touch, to finally feel safe.

You swallowed dryly, casting your gaze behind your lover, and onto the dishevelled corpse “Is it…gone?” 

Ash gently pulled your cheek back to face him, looking away from the deadite. “Yeah, It’s gone” 

He sighed heavily, casting another glance behind him at the corpse. “How did it get in here?” He frantically asked. "I mean the door is always locked” Ash shook his head in confusion, turning back to you.

You looked down guiltily and gulped slowly. Fuck your throat still hurt from the deathgrip the deadite had on your neck. 

Ash’s eyes narrowed at you. “The door was locked, right?” 

You remained quiet, still refusing to meet his eyes. He said your name slowly, “Tell me you locked the door."

You bit your lip. “Ash, liste-”

He scoffed in disbelief, cutting you off, hand pulling away from your cheek. “You’ve gotta be shitting me”

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, still refusing to meet his eyes, instantly missing his touch on your skin.

“Why do you think I always say that crap? For fun?” He angrily asked, hand rubbing his eyes in frustration. “I say it so shit like this doesn’t happen!” 

His voice grew louder and you flinched instinctively. Ash bit his tongue and shook his head regretfully. Both his hands took yours, carefully and gently held your broken wrist. “I’m sorry, I just-”

“I know, it's okay, I’m just jumpy” You said, cutting him off. “Every time I close my eyes or hear a slight noise I just think that thing is gonna come back and finish the job” 

“It’s not gonna come back” He reassured you confidently.

You gave him a faint and tired smile while nodding. “You’re right anyways, I should’ve locked the door I just never y’know expected...” Your sentence died on your tongue you couldn’t even will the words out. 

“I know” He responded, giving you that knowing look because of course he knew what it felt like. You looked into those brown doe eyes you had grown to love and find comfort in and felt your lip wobble ever so slightly, tears pricking at your eyes, you cast your gaze back down, not wanting to break and burst into tears.

But the tears were strong and a quiet sob escaped you.

“Hey, come on look at me” Ash said head bobbing to try and catch your eyes. You timidly looked up, and Ash swiped a tear away with his thumb. “Are you okay?”

You lifted an eyebrow at his words. “Yeah” He chuckled. “It’s a stupid question, I know” He threw his gaze behind him to the still deadite. 

A faint smile played on his lip as he looked back at you. “You beat the crap out of it though” 

You smiled back, sniffing ever so slightly. “Had a good teacher, I remembered all those tips” 

“Damn right you did, What did you beat it with anyways?”

“A chopping board” You responded

He let out another amused chuckle. “That ought to do it”

“Well, I seem to remember someone telling me anything is a weapon”

Ash nodded proudly, “Atta girl”

You blushed softly at the endearment. Ash gave you a knowing smile, thumb slowly drawing circles on your skin. “It did, however, beat the crap out of you and there's no shame in that, I mean hey, I lost my hand to those bastards. But we need to go to the hospital”

You nodded. “I know can we, please, just sit a little, I just need a second”

He nodded timidly as the two of you sat, hands intertwined. “Hey, on the bright side I don’t seem so batshit crazy now do I?” Ash shrugged in a joking tone.

You let out a small laugh. “Ash, I’ll always think your crazy”

Ash smiled in response and the apartment fell silent again, another chill drawing down your spine. The stillness of the apartment was unsettling after the attack and you felt your heartbeat start to speed up, you needed to distract yourself before you had a full blown panic attack. You cleared your throat ever so slightly, “So, those things, that’s what you fought off back in the cabin?” 

“Yeah,” Ash’s smile faltered ever so slightly.

You considered him for a moment and shook your head. “Just one of those fuckers nearly finished me off and yet you fought god knows how many and survived” 

“Well, I don’t mean to brag but I am the king, sugar” Ash responded, a smug smirk appearing on his face.

You rolled your eyes playfully at him. You always knew Ash was strong, I mean physically of course he was built particularly well and from what he had told you he was a fucking god when it came to combat. But this put it in proportion, to have survived that many of those things takes something truly incredible in a person. 

People would probably describe Ash as lucky for what he survived and he would most likely grunt in response and say some crap like, “Lucky? That’s one way of putting it”. Because it wasn’t luck to have lost his sister, his girlfriend and his friends all in one night. To have to live with the memory of their gruesome deaths, no, there was nothing lucky about that. Ash would never admit it because it made him feel weak but at the end of the day he was a victim and a survivor, and if survivors guilt was personified it would be personified in Ashley fucking Williams. 

You peered at him slowly. “Ash?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m so sorry that happened to you, I mean, I know I’ve said it before but now that I..” Your sentence trailed off your mind still unable to process what had just happened. “You have no idea how glad and lucky I am to have met you, let alone be with you” You spoke quietly. “How glad I am that you lived, and that you’re here, with me”

Ash was never very good at being in touch with his emotions and you knew that but that didn’t mean he was immune to them, and you hadn’t noticed the slight shimmer in his eyes and the gulp of breath he took in. He blinked slowly for a while, and for one of the first times in his life he was speechless, you had hit something buried in the deep crevices of his mind and my god, did it feel strangely good. Quickly trying to recover himself he plastered on that obnoxious smirk that didn’t quite erase the gentle look in his eyes. “Hey, me too babe” 

Awkwardly coughing, Ash’s eyes flickered down to your neck and his smirk dropped, jaw flexing and eyes widening again “Hey, what the fuck happened to your neck?”

Your hand flew out of his and instinctively brushed the stinging skin, you winced in pain.

“No, no” Ash pulled your hand away from your neck, taking soft grasp of it again, his eyes still focused on the blue-purple bruise forming across your neck. “Don’t touch it”

“Is it bad?” You asked, eyebrows furrowing in concern, panic rising.

Ash scoffed. “Uh, Yeah it’s bad, babe”. Noticing your worried face, he cleared his throat. “Nothing that won’t heal though, Uh don’t worry, just you know I wouldn’t recommend doing anything too strenuous with your throat”

You chuckled quietly. “Sorry, Ash, no blowjobs for a while”

Ash smiled at you but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. You cocked your head ever so slightly at him, a dirty joke that he didn't laugh at? Something was definitely up with him.

You watched him, the way his gaze lingered on your throat and wrist, the look in his eyes, it was the same look he had whenever he spoke about the cabin or his friends, his sister. You cleared your throat but the sensation made your already sore neck sting a little. “Ash, you know I’m gonna be okay, right?”

Ash lowered his head ever so slightly, ducking so he couldn’t meet your eyes. “I should have been here”

“Hey, come on that’s not fair to yourself”

He shook his head quietly.

“I mean I was the one who forgot to lock the door, you know, you were at work, as you should have been” You explained softly, his head remained hung.

“Ash, look at me” He reluctantly looked up, a tired look in his eyes. You tugged on his hand ever so slightly. “This is not the cabin, this is not your fault” 

He blinked quickly, that strange sensation from earlier coming back. Ash’s thumb swept over your hand again as the two of you peered at each other. You both sat in comfortable silence for a few moments before Ash finally stood up, offering you a hand. “Right, come on my little deadite slayer, you gotta go to the hospital”

You wanted to protest, not wanting to move at all but you knew he was right. Putting your non-injured hand in his he pulled you up, all the pain rushed through your body and you let out a cry. “Woah, come on, sugar, I got you” Ash reassured, an arm hooking around your waist so you could lean in to him as the two of you started to stumble to the door. 

Ash came to a halt just as the two of you reached the deadite corpse. You looked up at him quizzically and he looked back at you softly as he nervously licked his lips. “You know that I-” He cleared his throat. “That I, well-”

Ash always struggled to say I love you, but you knew.

“Yeah, I know” A big smile erupted on your face. “Me too”

Ash nervously let out a huff of air before planting a kiss on the top of your head, you smiled to yourself before the two of you continued towards the door, carefully stepping over the deadite mess.

“Y’know for future reference, the shotguns in the closet” He said.

“And you couldn't have told me that while you were giving me one of your ‘deadite 101’ lectures?”

“Now that would’ve made it to too easy for you”

You rolled your eyes playfully, as he opened the door and gently guided you through. The door shut, leaving the horror of the night behind. Ash pulled you back into him, leaning against his chest, the two of you stumbling down the hall.

“So,” You cleared your throat, “When do I get to use the chainsaw?”

“Oh you’re not ready for that yet, kid”

[ultrameganicolaokay]

Red Sonja vs. the Army of Darkness #3 by Tim Seeley and Jim Terry. Variant covers by (1) Seeley, (2) Tom Raney and (3) Nikkol Jelenic. Main cover (4) by Björn Barends. Out in June.

"The unlikely alliance of the She-Devil with a Sword and the Guy with the Gun continues as the two reluctant partners race to thwart Kulan Gath and his unholy Deadite horde! The quest to keep the Necronomicon out of Gath's twisted hands takes a turn for the subterranean as Sonja and Ash prepare to enter the Tomb of the Three Kings and these definitely ain't the ones that followed a certain star to Bethlehem! Veteran S-Mart shoppers TIM SEELEY and JIM TERRY fill readers' carts with action, adventure, and unadulterated mayhem in Red Sonja vs. The Army of Darkness #3 featuring bonus cover coupons courtesy of SEELEY, BJORN BARENDS, TOM RANEY, and NIKKOL JELENIC!"

[the-dork-urge]

The Mess of It All - Ash Williams x Reader

You were covered in blood and guts, like the time you volunteered to smear yourself in fake gore for that high school horror project—corn syrup and red paint, sticky but harmless. Only this was real. The coppery tang in the air, the warmth of it soaking through your clothes, the weight of it clinging to your skin—none of this was pretend.

You dropped the machete onto the cobblestones, its weight suddenly unnecessary, your fingers numb from holding it so tightly. The sound of it clattering echoed off the walls around you. You bent forward, hands pressing against your knees, struggling to find some stability, your breath coming in uneven gasps.

You’d told yourself countless times that you’d get used to it, that eventually, it would stop making your stomach churn and your chest tighten. But maybe a human wasn’t supposed to. Maybe no one was ever meant to feel the slick warmth of real blood soaking into their skin and simply carry on.

Ash was one of those rare people who did carry on. He didn’t flinch, didn’t pause—just kept moving forward like the blood on his hands didn’t weigh him down. He’d seen more, been through worse, lived this life longer than you had. Much longer. Where you hesitated, Ash acted. Where you questioned, Ash already knew the answer. For him, this wasn’t horror anymore. It was routine.

You didn’t want to admit it, but when he was wielding his chainsaw or a gun, when those deadites dropped like flies around you, you looked up to him. It was more than admiration; it was attraction. The way Ash moved, so sure and ruthless, like every swing of his chainsaw or pull of the trigger was a dance he’d perfected. The way his eyes burned with something that felt both reckless and controlled. It pulled you in, made your heart race in ways that weren’t just from fear.

But perhaps, you realized, that could be the adrenaline talking. It was hard to tell what was real and what was just the chaos twisting your mind, the fight-or-flight instincts pushing everything to the surface.

So when the fighting died down, when the adrenaline finally began to fade and the horror peeled off like a second skin, you were left with him as he was—the bumbling idiot. The one who never quite got it right, the one who’d make dumb jokes in the middle of a crisis or trip over his own feet when the danger was gone. In the quiet, he was no longer the fearless, battle-hardened hero. He was just Ash.

And maybe that was the part you weren’t prepared for. The part you didnt want to admit you liked too.

It was then that you noticed it, as you still stood there croached over—the blood, dark and sticky, dripping from your hair, trailing down your face like a grotesque clown, and then dripping down between your shoes. You reached up, combing your fingers through your hair. The more you touched it, the more it spread, the more it seemed to cling to you.

Your jacket, soaked with remnants of the fight, felt like lead, weighing you down with every movement. You couldn’t stand it anymore. You ripped it off, tossing it aside, letting it fall to the floor, discarded like everything else from the battle. It joined the pile of things left behind

Your breath hitched in your throat, the coppery taste still lingering, but now something else, something sour. It built up inside you, rising, burning, until your stomach couldn’t hold it anymore. You doubled over, the weight of everything crashing down on you as you threw up, the bile and the blood mixing together, spilling onto the floor in a violent mess. The moment felt endless. The sound of your own choking breaths. Than he came rushing over. He crouches down next to you, the sound of his boots squelching in the blood-soaked floor, and for a second, you think maybe he’ll just stare at you, unsure of what to do next. But then, in that familiar Ash way, he cracks a grin, even though it’s a little forced.

"Hey, uh, you’re not gonna start puking on me now too, are you? ‘Cause I really don’t have the best luck with... that,” Ash says, a half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

You look up at him, still breathing heavily, your vision blurry. The joke, though meant to lighten the mood, does nothing but make the tension in your chest grow tighter. But it's Ash—he's trying, even if he’s a bit off the mark. You blink, your hand still shaking as you wipe the last of the bile from your lips. “Yeah... not my best moment,” you mutter. Ash nodded, his usual bravado softening for a moment, though he was still fumbling with how to comfort you. "Well, if it makes you feel better, you look fucking badass, covered in guts and puke," he said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly with his fake hand. His other hand hovered near you, unsure whether to touch you, before it fell back. "It's, uh... the look of the season."

You couldn’t help it. You let out a small chuckle, standing up straight again. You reached out, grabbing his awkwardly extended hand for support. He gripped it tightly, holding you steady as you wobbled on your tired feet, trying to find your balance. You took a heavy step away from the mess, letting him help guide you away ''Sorry aboiut that,' You blinked, still feeling the sting of everything, "I’m just… tired," you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper.

He opened his mouth, like he was going to say something—maybe offer you a way out, a way to escape the endless nightmare you both were caught in. Tell you to go if you could no longer do what he did. No one should. He'd offer you a green light, an exit. But before he could speak, you shook your head, knowing exactly what the words were he was mulling over.

"But I’m not going anywhere," you said, and even though the words felt heavy in your chest, you meant them. "I’m staying. Fuck it.." ''Glad to have you," Ash said quietly, a little more earnest than usual, before his lips pulled into a smile. "Well, you and your machete, that is."

He chuckled lightly, slowly letting go of your hand as he searched for your eyes. The sound of his chuckle felt oddly comforting. Despite everything, despite the blood and the mess, despite how close you’d come to losing yourself in it all, there was something in the way Ash looked at you now. You couldn't help but smile back, the faintest hint of something more beneath it. "Yeah, well, you'd be lost without me, Williams"

Ash raised an eyebrow, a small laugh escaping him as he stepped just a little closer, his eyes locked onto yours. "Guess I’ll never know." His voice dropped a little. ''Not planning on testing that theory soon.'' The tension in the air shifted, just enough for you to feel it and you took a step closer again.

You looked at him, really looked at him—his tousled hair, the scars on his aging skin, the faintest glimmer of exhaustion in his eyes, but something more there, too. Something you hadn’t let yourself notice until now. Should you ignore it? The way your body betrayed you, leaning in just a little, drawn to his lips—the same lips that had spoken such profane things, the same lips that had joked and teased you, made you question his sincerity more times than you could count. The lips that smoothed over words for every woman he met, effortless and easy. So why now? Why did it feel like the world had narrowed down to just him, just this moment, and the way his eyes held yours?

But even as you hesitated, you could feel the heat rising between you both, an unspoken thing that thrummed in the space between breaths. He hadn’t moved away, hadn’t stepped back. And you didn’t either. Then, before you could think or question it any longer, he grabbed you. His hands on your waist, pulling you closer, and in that moment, everything you had ever felt, everything you’d tried to suppress, flooded back.. All the walls you’d built, all the excuses you’d made, crumbled away. You remembered everything. Every moment you’d spent fighting alongside him, every argument, every time you’d caught yourself watching him with more than just annoyance or confusion. You realized you wanted him—all of him. The fighting parts of him, the reckless energy, the parts that made you so damn angry, the vulnerability hidden behind his bravado. You wanted it all. The good, the bad—the mess of it. The contradictions that made him who he was, the reasons you had stayed through all of it. You felt your heart race, the pounding of blood in your ears drowning out any rational thoughts. This was it. You didn’t want to stop it. You didn’t want to stop him. The moment your lips met, it was clumsy—raw, imperfect. His skin, sticky with sweat and blood, pressed against yours. The faint, lingering taste of bile hung like a breath between you. It wasn’t the sweet, polished kiss you’d fantasized about, it was messy, and it should have repelled you. But it didn’t.

You felt every rough edge of him, every imperfection—his hands, slightly shaky as they cupped your face, the uneven rhythm of your breaths. There was no grace, no pretense. And right now that was everything you needed.

[sijssjsbssjsnsnnskbskwns]

Deadite!Reader (Evil Dead Rise 2023)

Kandarian Demon Or Deadite?

Quotes….

“Open the door like you opened your legs you stinking groupie slut!”

“I will swallow your soul…..Two souls?”

“Ellie waits for you in hell and your unborn bastard baby.”

“Everybody here dies by dawn, Beth.”

“Nothing like a big old hug and kiss from you won’t fix….Open up now…like a good girl.”

“Do it for mom and dad.”

“Mommy’s with the maggots now.”

“I do…I’m free now…free from all you titty-sucking parasites.”

“Hi there…Cutie pie.”

“I had the most beautiful dream…We were together sitting in a tall forest the air was clean and the birds were singing the sweetest mel…m..melodies?…it was a perfect day and all I could think about is how much i wanted to cut you all open and crawl inside your bodies so we could stay one happy family together.”

“Who wants to rot next? Eney…meeny MINY!…You..”

[glindaselphie]

Trespassing | Deadite Ellie x Fem!Reader smut | 18+

Maggot Mommy has been my hyperfixation and had this kind of effect on me since I first saw the film back in April. So, this piece was born. Please note this is for adults only and this isn’t beta read so any mistakes are my own. Content warning for smut and…well, a Deadite. Deadites do and say some pretty messed up stuff and Ellie here is no different in that regard. Enjoy!

You can also alternatively read it on AO3.

There’d been word about that rundown apartment complex, the top floor in particular, for a while now. It was apparently rare that anyone that went in came back out again. But you didn’t usually believe stories like that and besides, you knew a family that lived on the top floor. Ellie and her kids.

When you stepped out into the hall of the top floor that day though, you couldn’t deny it felt different. It was quiet, and there was a strange smell about it that you couldn’t quite identify. Maybe they’ve all just moved on and it’s been abandoned, you thought. It was meant to be getting demolished soon, wasn’t it?

The door to Ellie’s apartment was open and when you slipped inside, there wasn’t sign of her or her children. That was until you made your way towards the open bathroom and noticed a figure staring at you from the tub. A figure that looked like…

“Ellie?”

She grinned at you in a way that made your blood run cold and before you could even react, she was crawling out of the tub and moving towards you. You tried to move but she was too quick for you and moments later she’d dragged you down and pinned you to the floor. You barely even tried to break free because you were no match for her strength and height.

“Ellie?” But you knew deep down that, whatever this was, it wasn’t Ellie anymore.

“Ellie isn’t here, you stupid cunt.” The voice she was using was demonic, nothing like Ellie’s at all. When she gripped your face tight, you felt sharp claws digging into your skin. “And I should gut you for trespassing.”

“I can go,” you pleaded, swallowing a lump in your throat. But despite your fear, there was a wetness pooling between your legs. “Let me go and I’ll leave.”

Ellie, or whatever it was using her body, sniffed the air and a thought crossed your mind that made your eyes widen. Could she…smell what your body was doing?

“You don’t want to go.” And her next words answered the question in your mind. “I can smell you dripping, you filthy little slut.”

Ellie let your face go and moved down your body, finding the area where you wanted her most and nosing at you through your clothes. It made you writhe a little which clearly amused her because she let out a deep, dark chuckle.

“Dessssperate little thing, aren’t you?” She practically cooed.

Moments later, she’d removed your shorts and underwear and had gripped both your legs like a vice. You looked down and just managed to catch sight of a long black tongue before her mouth was on you. She started by tasting you, moving her tongue around inside you, and then focused on your clitoris. She played with it using her tongue and sucked at you, making lewd noises all the while, and you couldn’t help the whimpers and moans that were escaping you.

Her mouth was the most intense thing you’d ever felt and what she was doing was the most pleasurable. You knew you should probably feel disgusted in yourself because, whatever this was, it wasn’t Ellie anymore. It didn’t even seem human. But you were so lost in her and the feeling she was giving you that you couldn’t find it in yourself to care anymore.

Before very long you could feel your orgasm starting to build and evidently she sensed it too, because she sped up her ministrations, her sucking noises getting louder and the pressure she was putting on your clitoris growing more intense.

Then that wave of pleasure crashed over you and your back arched with it, your eyes slamming shut as you let out a final strangled moan. Ellie moved away from you once the wave was over and back up your body and, before you’d even fully come down from the high of it, she forcefully pressed her mouth to yours and put her tongue inside your mouth, making your taste yourself, your juices.

She pulled her mouth away from yours after a moment and moved to mouth at and lick your neck, letting out light growls that almost sounded like purring, and you felt yourself starting to melt again. You impulsively threaded a hand into her damp red hair and half expected her to bite your hand off for doing so but she let you stay there as she snapped at your jaw.

“You aren’t leaving.” Her eyes met yours, she gave you a wicked grin and you knew she meant both that you didn’t want to leave and that you couldn’t without her say so anymore. “You make such a nice little pet slut.”

[jeridandridge]

Hi! Idk if your asks are open rn, I know you got a lot in your requests. But I thought of this little fluffy idea and you're my fave writer on here so I thought I'd throw it your way and see if you liked it enough to write it!

It's a dark and stormy night and Melissa takes reader to a scary movie for date night, which basically scars the reader (in a cute funny way obvs lol) and she has to stay over at Melissa's bc she is terrified. But what she doesn't know is Melissa is low-key also terrified. Every floorboard creaking, shadows on the walls, trees knocking against the windows 👻👻👻 you know?

Cute, fluffy, funny with a happy ending. If ya feel like it!

💕💕

This was so much fun to write I hope you dig it! Thank you for the request. 🩷

Deadites and Baseball Bats.

“Cmon, Mel.” You chuckle jogging up to the door to hold it open for your girlfriend. It was starting to rain outside and you knew it would only get worse throughout the night.

“Ya know I still don’t know why you picked this one, hon.” She quirks a brow as you two get to the snack area. You’d made sure to get the tickets for the movie the day before, mostly because you knew that way you wouldn’t chicken out.

“It’s supposed to be really good! My brother showed me the original when I was way too little now I wanna see this one.” You smile at the memory. You like some horror, but it still scared you. Hell, Michael meyers was a figure in your nightmares even when you were in high school.

“You saw Evil Dead when you were a kid?!” Melissa’s eyes go wide and you can’t help but laugh at her expression as you reach for her hand.

“I told you my brother wasn’t the best babysitter.”

You pay for your usual snack of popcorn and a bag of peanut M&Ms to share, even though Melissa always tells you to just sneak stuff in. In the theater you sit munching on your snacks waiting for the movie to start.

“I wonder how scary this one’s gonna be.” Melissa hums as the lights dim. When the movie starts you scoot closer to your girlfriend noting how the atmosphere in the movie is just like how it is outside now. Rain pelting down and dark. Too dark.

The movie starts out easy enough, but eventually your find yourself hiding your face in your girlfriends hair. “That’s not what a cheese grater is for!” You squeak.

“Woah!” Melissa lets out pushing further back into her seat, her hand on your thigh.

Throughout the movie you play peekaboo through your girlfriends hair, holding onto her arm for dear life.

“That’s more blood than when they got my uncle Tony.” Melissa winces.

You start to relax when the character wields the iconic chainsaw, finally killing the mutant deadite. After the movie you let out a breath and stand up blown away and terrified of what you watched.

“I can’t believe she went after all her kids.” The red head comments as you two head out of the theater.

“I mean, it wasn’t really her, the deadite was just using her.” You reason, your face falling when you get to the lobby. The glass doors give you a peak of an angry dark purple sky and lightning striking through black clouds.

“Ready to make a run for it, hon?” Melissa asks resting her hand on your lower back.

You nod pushing the door open.

“You can’t help but laugh when you two reach the car, Melissa trying to fix her soaking wet hair.

“Oh baby.” You laugh reaching over to wipe away smeared mascara. “My little raccoon.” You tease.

“Shut up, scaredy cat.” She teases you getting the car moving. As you two head home you can’t help but jump when a roll of thunder crashes seemingly right above you.

“Fuck.” You mutter looking out the window. The sky had grown even darker, making it look much later than 10 o’clock. The wind whipping around rattles the car and you reach over holding the sleeve of Melissa’s leather jacket.

Back at home you two get in shaking off the water.

“I’m gonna get some candles out just in case. That wind is too strong.” Melissa comments heading upstairs.

For some reason, when Melissa goes upstairs you feel like a child again, feet stuck in cement blocks unable to move with fear running through you. You think of how ridiculous it is.

“It’s just a movie.” You tell yourself moving through the house to get to the kitchen. All of a sudden you hear a zap and everything goes black.

“Oh fuck.” You cry out, your heart racing. “Mel!”

“I’m comin I’m comin, hon.” She huffs flicking a lighter for the candle in her hand.

Your hand grips the door frame and you don’t let go until you see your girlfriend glowing in the candle light.

“If I weren’t so freaked out id tell you how hot you look in that candlelight.” You breathe out with a nervous laugh.

Melissa moves through the dimly lit area holding the large glass candle.

“You’re scared and you still manage to flirt.” She chuckles wrapping her arm around your waist. “Cmon, baby I’ll keep you safe.” She teases.

“That movie was terrifying! I don’t know why I did that.”

“But we did have fun.” Melissa smiles in the dark. When you two get to your bedroom she sets the candle down on the dresser and moves to light more.

You strip getting rid of your wet clothes and changing into your sweatpants and one of Melissa’s eagles shirts.

You take a step forward and when you do the hardwood floor creaks forcing you to freeze.

“What was-“ Melissa whips around, stoping when she sees you on a certain part of the floor.

“Is the big and tough Melissa Schemmenti scared too?” You tease climbing into bed.

“I am not! It sounded weird, I didn’t know if- whatever.” She waves her hand continuing to take her makeup off. You sit in bed with the blanket pulled up to your chin, your phone in hand you scroll trying to take your mind off of the howling wind outside and the freaky deadites.

“Remind me to get rid of the cheese grater.” Melissa hums climbing in next to you.

“Oh god.” You shudder remembering the scene. “No cheese graters or tattoo machines in this house.”

“Deal.” The red head laughs wrapping her arm around you. You shift scooting back to have her behind you. She holds you a little tighter than she normally does, the sound of the rain hitting the window starts to lull you to sleep until youre jolted out of your haze by the sound of glass breaking and a door slamming.

“What the fuck was that?!” Melissa bolts up resting her hand on your hip. You sit up completely still, listening for anything else.

“Hopefully not a possessed angry zombie mother.” You hiss getting up with the red head. Melissa grabs her bedroom bat and you stand behind her, hands on her back as you both creep through the house.

“If I ever get possessed you better take me out.” She whispers.

“You got it, baby.” You agree, completely tense as you both get down the hall.

“It’s in the bathroom!” she hisses looking at the now closed door.

“I’ll kick it open, you swing.” You whisper standing on the opposite side of the door frame. Your girlfriend gives you a nod and you move like a lightening bolt kicking the door in and moving to the side again as Melissa winds her arms up ready to swing.

“Oh my god.” Melissa sighs bringing a hand to her chest. You look in past her seeing the bathroom window broken and a tree branch through it.

“So not a deadite” you sigh in relief. Melissa steps forward and you pull her back by the arm. “Stop, you’re gonna step on glass. It’s too dark to deal with this right now.”

Melissa puts her arms down closing the door again.

“We’ll have to wait until the morning to do something about that.” She hums.

You can’t help but smile standing beside her. “Thank you for protecting me from deaites and tree branches.”

Melissa laughs intertwining your fingers pulling you back to the bedroom.

“I think we have to put a no scary movies in the dark rule in place.”

“Deal. Big time deal.”

[heatedwither]

in the white.

deadite! ellie x fem reader.

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

word count- 4.7k.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“please… ellie..”

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

“please, what?”

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

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

“sorry… mommy”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“answer me you filthy slut”

of course she didn’t forget.

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

“t-touch me? please, mommy?”

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

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

“ohhh you greedy girl”

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

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

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

“mhm.. yes… yes mommy”

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

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

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

"you smell delicious"

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

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

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

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

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

“oh, fuck.. mommy.. hnng”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and you've completely fallen for this demon.

[htchnr]

ミ★ hot and sticky ꜜ ASH WILLIAMS.

𖦹 masterlist. 𖦹 buy me a coffee!

「 ꜜsummary,, the aftermath of a fight deadites leaves you shaking. but not in a terrified way.. 」

「 ꜜcontent,, smut ⋆ piv sex ⋆ unprotected sex ⋆ Ash and reader are covered in blood ⋆ 300 pet names ⋆ it's Ash so what do we expect ⋆ age gap ⋆ Ash is in his 40s reader in her late 20s ⋆ reader is ACHING ⋆ and honestly absolutely same ⋆ not beta'd we die like season 4. ꜜwc,, 0,9k. 」

© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐇𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐍𝐑. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!

the air in the trailer is thick, deadites having attacked the pair of you mere minutes ago. the blood covering you two was still warm and sticky on your skin.

you don't know what had gotten into you, watching Ash clean the blood off of the shotgun in his lap. you couldn't think straight as you made your way to him, brain foggy as you watch his large hand carefully clean his shotgun.

he pauses when you stand before him, looking up at you with those deep brown eyes, they could never look threatening to you, ever.

" whatcha need? " his voice pulling you from your thoughts.

you shake your head, a knee nudging his shotgun aside and out of his lap as you lower yourself into his lap. your breath is shaky, hands shaking against his shoulders as you press slow kisses against his bloody face, slowly getting quicker and trailing down to his blood covered throat.

" woah woah, what's all the lovin' for, dollface? " you could hear that damn grin in his voice.

you move to face him, hips rolling against his as you press your lips to his. " shut up. " even your voice is trembling a little, your whole body on fire and ready to go.

he lets his shotgun drop onto the couch, both hands now on your body. " shit sugar lips, oh shit, " he pants as your hips roll more feverishly against his.

you press your lips harder against his. " shut up. " you moan, " just take it, please. " you plead. and who is he to deny you? he could never deny such a sweet, feverish thing like you, all hot and bothered in his lap. your whole body shaking to get some lovin' from him.

✮ꜜ : ❛

" yeah, that's it baby, come on, " he groans, his cold metal hand on your naked hip as you bounce in his lap, his other hand holding your face with such care it almost makes you lose it.

your sounds have been reduced to nothing but pleas and whimpers, your forehead knocking against his with each rise and fall of your hips. your whole body shaking to release.

" come on pretty angel, let it all go, " he pants, with how good you feel, and look, with all that blood covering you, he was never going to last long. and with the way he's dragging against your pulsing walls so damn good, you were never going to last long either.

[alienguts]

Reunion (Ash Williams x f!Reader)

Summary: Ash comes home after months of being lost in time.

Warnings: angst, anger, slapping (and then apologising for slapping)

Request?: No

A/N: I randomly remembered that in Evil Dead Rise, you can hear Ash's voice on the recording of the other Necronomicon being read, and then that it was made canon that it is Ash, and this came to mind. Enjoy!

The walk up to Y/N’s apartment had never felt so long before. Ash had no idea how long he’d been away from home, but it felt like a lifetime. Seeing her face before the moment he’d disappeared was just a distant memory now.

He didn’t know how it had happened, but he had ended up in the past. Again. Thankfully, not as far flung as Medieval England, but far enough for him to have to adjust to his surroundings. And not having Y/N with him. 

The initial battle with the Deadites was tougher than he thought it was going to be, and seeing them surrounding Y/N had haunted his thoughts the entire time he was away. Getting rid of the demons was a big priority, especially since the people he tried to save this time were less likely to believe in them.

But getting home to Y/N was his number one priority. She was the most important thing in the whole world to him, and he had to get back to her, even if it put his own life in danger.

Thankfully, he still had a tiny bit of potion left to get him back to her in one piece, although with longer hair and a beard that he couldn’t wait to get rid of.

His heart had jumped into his throat when he knocked on the front door. Hopefully, Y/N wanted to see him and would want to welcome him home with open arms, but he’d been gone so long that he didn’t know how she would react.

Please be home, please be home, he thought as he waited for her to answer the door.

Eventually, he heard the locks turn in the door before it slowly creaked open just enough for Y/N to poke her head around. His heart skipped a beat when he saw her, just as beautiful as the last time. Her eyes went wide as she opened the door and looked him up and down, as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

“Ash?” she asked softly. “Is that really you?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he said bashfully, knowing how different he must have looked. “Hi, baby.”

She gingerly took hold of his hand and pulled him through the open door into the apartment. The room was the same as it had been before, even down to his side of the couch remaining mostly untouched. A teddy bear took his place, as if it was keeping the seat warm for him.

Y/N stood in the middle of the room, eyeing him cautiously, her brows furrowed and her lips pressed together.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Ash asked as he slowly made his way towards her. “It’s still me, I promise.”

Before he could even open his arms to see that he was completely harmless, a sharp pain spread across his cheek, making him flinch and step back a second. 

Did she just slap me? he thought.

“Ashley Williams, where the fuck have you been?” Y/N asked, trying to keep her voice down so her neighbours wouldn’t hear. “You left me to die in those woods six months ago and now you think you can just waltz into here and act like everything’s fine?”

Ash opened his mouth to speak, but immediately closed it again. How could he explain what had happened? Y/N was used to him getting into all sorts of crazy shit, but this was something else.

“It’s a long story,” he said, defeatedly. He had a lot of thinking to do to explain this one.

“Yeah, I bet it is,” Y/N scoffed. “Just go get cleaned up, I need some space to process all this.”

“So, you’re not kicking me out?” Ash asked sheepishly as he shuffled towards the bathroom.

“No, I’m not kicking you out,” she said with a sigh as she sat down on the sofa. “It’s not like you’ve got anywhere else to go.”

While taking the longest and hottest shower of his life, Ash tried to come up with a way to make his story believable for Y/N. Every possible explanation just sounded worse than the last, so he settled for just being honest with her, no matter how badly she took it.

After shaving and getting dry, he changed into his regular lounge clothes and headed back into the living room, looking more like himself. Or what Y/N had always seen him as. It had been so long since he’d been able to have a little moment of vanity that the man looking back at him in the mirror was almost a stranger.

Y/N was still sitting on the sofa, watching something on the TV while cuddling the teddy bear that had been keeping his spot warm. He wished that he could just pull her into his arms like that, but he doubted that she wanted to be touched by him at that moment.

“Hey,” he said softly as he sat next to her. “I know you hate me right now, but you deserve to know the truth.”

“I don’t hate you, Ash, I’m just..” she trailed off, not knowing how to describe her feelings.

Ash nodded. “You’re upset, I get it,” he said. “I would be too if you disappeared for months.”

Y/N picked up the remote and muted the TV so she could hear him better. “So, what happened? Why did you just leave like that?”

He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Time to rip the Band Aid off.

“Remember when we were in the woods and that big portal opened up?” She nodded. “Well, I got sucked into that portal. And I went back in time. Again.”

Ash watched as the cogs turned in her head and she fought to stop herself from rolling her eyes.

“Right. Went back in time again. Sure, Ash,” she said and reached to pick up the remote again.

“No, it’s true,” he insisted as he grabbed her hand. “I ended up in the 20s and I remember there were three Necronomicons and some priest guy was reading from it into a recording in this giant room and-”

“Ash,” Y/N said, stopping him from babbling. “You don’t need to explain yourself that much. I already know that you went back in time once. It’s not that crazy that it happened again.”

“I just feel like you needed a real explanation,” he said and ran his thumb over her knuckles. “I’m sorry for leaving you.”

Y/N tossed the teddy bear aside and shuffled over the couch to throw her arms around Ash’s neck.

“It’s okay,” she said as she held him tightly. “I know you didn’t mean to, just, please don’t leave me again.”

“I won’t,” Ash said and hugged her back, burying his face in the crook of her neck and stroking her back. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Y/N said softly as she pulled away to look at him again. “I’m sorry I slapped you.”

“S’okay,” he said with a lazy grin. “I kinda deserved it.”

“No, you didn’t deserve it.”

“Well, you could kiss it better if you feel so bad about it.”

Y/N tenderly took Ash’s face in her hands and turned his face to gently kiss the cheek that she’d slapped earlier. Thankfully, his skin had gone back to its normal shade so it didn’t look like she’d done anything to him. She let her lips linger for a while, just for a chance to be close to him again after so long.

“Feel better?” she asked when she pulled away slightly.

“Mm, it still hurts a little,” Ash said slyly as he traced her lower lip with his thumb. “Nothin’ a little sugar couldn’t fix.”

At least being lost in time for a second time didn’t change Ash that much.