#chilling devotion fandom

Jim Walters x GN!Reader

Summary: There's nothing wrong with you, you know it. No, you're not crazy. Then why does it seem like it? You're just paranoid, too distrustful of him who only has generosity in his heart and your best interest in mind. Even when his icy eyes linger where they shouldn't.

TW: Suggestive, creepy Jim, yandere, paranoia, angst(ish), mentions of blood, swearing

You swear there's nothing wrong with you. You're not going crazy, no, you're perfectly sane. You just keep having nightmares where something lurks in the void, wanting you as it's sacrifice. You tell Jim, you're not safe. Something's not right. He needs to listen at the warning, he said it himself beforehand "Sometimes though...I think dreams are doors" "You oughta be careful...what you invite in". So why doesn't he just agree and do the same as before, does he enjoy this? Your panic-stricken expression as you try and convince him that you're not safe. There's something out to get you, you even feel it on your skin at night as if you're not only being watched but devoured. You reassure him, you're not crazy. In hindsight you seem as anything but. "But dreams can just be dreams. Not real. You're safe here. It's safe here. He replies back, the southern drawl in his voice stretching, brow arched in frustration at your constant rebuttal. He sighs before bringing you breakfast, body leaning down behind you - caging you in. The scent of pinewood and musk engulfing you whole. Just as quickly the scent of iron hits your nose as you spot the blackberry preserve on your plate. It's completely normal, nothing wrong with it. But why does it taste metallic in your mouth then? The red seeping through the black hues of the jam. It's almost crimson and thick, as if...no. No that would be sick.

It's odd how he never takes any, heaping more onto your plate - feeling your pulse right after. There's something so wrong and you can feel it in the way he stares at you. Icy eyes stripping you down to nothing but the shell of yourself - predator and prey, like a game of cat and mouse. Biting his lips when he gets anxious, scared that he's going to get caught staring. He always does. At least, that's what you think - that you'll catch him in time. The sticky sweet stays on your plate making you rethink but you eat it anyways. The fork in your hand gently scooping up the portions one by one and into your mouth, on your tongue. He stares at it, not so subtly. Never subtly. His face heats up and his knee bounces up and down, up and down, again and again. His hand, now off your pulse, moving upwards to hold your hand and intertwine his fingers with yours. He shifts closer too, his eyes settled on you as if daring you to move, convinced you wouldn't anymore. And move you do. His mood visibly sours after that, brows furrowing as he looks at you like a kicked puppy. Fucking manipulator, making you feel so bad for being mean. Making feel so horrible for just wanting your space, to not be looked at like a piece of meat. He gets up after a while, taking away your dishes to the sink, eyes still on the fork that was just in your mouth as he grins softly. Repulsive.

"Here...hope you like it." He brings you a warm beverage afterwords, pushing it towards you gently as if ushering you to drink. His own mug sitting in front of him untouched. You don't wanna drink what he's put in front of you, the steaming beverage making you nauseous. You swear theres something in the drink, there can't not be. It's either here or in the food. Last time you complained he'd angrily gulped the contents down, proving you wrong and shutting you up. Seeing your discomfort he takes a sip of his own drink, his eyes shifting down as if to ease you. It works. You slowly pick the mug up before sipping the drink; the heat burning your tongue as you yelp. "Too hot?" He asks with a gentle smile before you nod as he looks away into the distance. And he suddenly seems so beautiful, a blush betraying you as you continue to look at him. Fuck. Blonde hair pooling around him in silky strands and tired eyes that droop downwards in a beautiful shade of blue. Pale skin too, that stands out against his rosy cheeks and his lips chapped yet so inviting. They must be warm too. Why do you feel this way for someone so vile. Yeah, you're delusional, he wouldn't mix something in your drink. Why would he? The pounding in your head must be a coincidence. And then you're second guessing yourself again and again. Is he really that bad? When he's been nothing but sweet to you? When he's done nothing wrong and for all you know, everything is just your overactive imagination. But the fear within you only grows, the distrust visible in your eyes.

The worst part is that you can't even accuse him of anything. He's been all gracious and welcoming after all, albeit in his own awkward manner. Letting you stay in his home, eating his food, sleeping in his extra room, warming up next to his fireplace. His. You're indebted to him and yet you still don't trust him. He who's protecting you from what's out there; the snow of course.

The weather so terrifying that could drive you off-course and injure you so badly that you'll bleed to death in the numbing cold. The freezing temperature, something your fragile body isn't accustomed to. Still it's hard to trust him, especially when his gaze lingers in places you know he shouldn't be staring at. When his hands brush yours just a little too long and when his breath hits the back of your nape as you shudder at the looming stranger behind you. But then again, you're judging him based off how he comes off - how shallow of you. It's not his fault that he isn't used to social cues and that he's a little shy. No, you're just being unappreciative. Maybe he doesn't know what he's doing. But he does, he’s a grown fucking man.

And if you dislike it so much then you should just leave. Why haven't you? You tried, really you did. Run away and discard yourself off this place and go as far as you could.

The first day he came in, knocking on his own door and dressed in black. The snow gear that obscured your vision alongside the way his eyes kept you in place. You didn't know him and nor did you want to. Not wanting to be indebt to him, and you should have done so in the beginning, you were about to leave. Stupid of you to come back inside on the first day, listening to his ragged words that persuaded you to come back into the warmth of his home when you got inside your car. "It's dangerous...you won't survive a minute" You stepped back inside, shivering. Easy. You shouldn't have. You should've drove off in your car, no matter the weather, when you had the chance. Now you can't even do that. The snow's piled up so high that you can't even see your car and you're damn sure the battery life had deteriorated by a mile. You're stuck with him, right where he wants you.

It's silly how he doesn't even have to actively entrap you, no, the climate does it for him. Not that he's completely clean, he'd do exactly that if he had to. Thankfully for him, the weather itself It cages you with him, trapping you like he does those rabbits in spring. Though he really doesn't want to scare you, unfortunately he doesn't know how to act. Not when you sit there so pretty and quiet, saccharine and sweet, skittish and scampering. He can't help but fumble his words then come off as deadpan to shut off any thoughts you may have about him as a creep. No, he doesn't care at all, let's keep you thinking that.

And then there you are, only seeing him as a threat when his mask slips, not even in the manner you should. The worst you think he'll do is poison you like some crazy lunatic or kill you, no he'd never. Not when he's so entranced with you. Not when the worse he can do is so much more revolting. Disgusting.

The necklace a reminder that you're in his domain. It's a beautiful delicate thing. Carved thinly with wood that would splinter at the slightest pressure. A small rabbit tied to a leather chain. But then again, it's more similar to a leash than a necklace. It's a collar really. Makes you feel domesticated. It feels wrong. Yet the shy smile he had as he tied it to your neck, the blush on his cheeks. He was just so lovable and the gift around your neck so thoughtful. You should just stop being so pessimistic.

.

.

. You're going crazy aren't you? First the beast in your dreams, calling out to you and demanding you present yourself on an altar, and now icy eyes? No, he's a good person, Jim is the host who kindly took you in. He could've kicked you out - for all he knew, you were the threat as you showed up in his home with who knows what in mind. Or he could've been pure evil, letting you freeze to death. Yet he didn't. He gave you a warm bed and food too and everything else, merely asking for a little company in return.

Then why does it make you so uneasy? The fear that he's the one peeking through that door at night, heavy breathing as he watches you toss and turn in bed. No, you're going crazy. Insane. You must've left the door ajar, and those eyes must be a trick of the light. Then what about the hot breath on your collar? It's those dreams. The beast appearing again and again, making you believe that there's someone in your bed. Someone on top of you, pinning you down like a butterfly as they take you in with their eyes. If only you knew that the beast wasn't an illusion but the reality of Jim.

He's a monster, a motherfucking monster.

Note: I just had to write more about this GORGEOUS AMAZING BEAUTIFUL MAN RAHHHH. Ugh he's been on my mind 24/7 and I'm literally working on like 3 more fics about him. He deserves so much love and I love the complexity he has ughghghghgh. Again THANK YOU to the WONDERFUL author/creator @hereisremina of this game for giving us THIS MASTERPIECE to leech off (I'M SORRY I'M WRITING SO MUCH ABOUT HIM I JUST HAVE TOOOOOOOOO).

Note 2: So like I said before, I definitely am moving on from my usual content into more darker(?) content. And even if it's not "darker" it's certainly has heavy implications and is much different to what I usually write.

Note 3: Inspo from the song "Monster" by Dev.

Jim Walters x GN!Reader

Summary: Getting accustomed to your lifestyle with Jim while he can only preoccupy himself with thoughts of you. You never once thought he'd become your safety net but some things are just fate.

TW: Suggestive, toxic relationship dynamics, yandere, creepy Jim (ish?)

Consume, the need to devour you was necessary. It was a thought that engulfed him entirely - from his body to his mind. All he thought of was you, who was so close. Just a room away and sometimes right in front of him, sitting in silence - the carving on your neck, a collar of sorts displayed like a trophy. A rabbit, skittish like you - distrusting too.

Finally in his grasp, defiant or pliant, something he could mold - though not with the intention to change. It was with the intention to safe-keep, to help you, he insisted. Fragile things needed help, aid. He wasn't one to brag like that, not at first at least - but it was a fact, wasn't it?

You who was from a place so far away, locked with him in his little cabin with nowhere to go. Cute. You'd die if you stepped a foot out so he'd graciously take responsibility - hold you in his shaky arms, hoping you wouldn't find him repulsive. How could he not quake with you so near? How beautiful you were, so close yet so far. Lashes coated in tears, body moving in jagged steps. All to get away from him. Quite rude of you, he wouldn't push though. Not yet, as long as you stayed. Stayed close to him, within his gaze, under his nose, so close that he could touch you - just to make sure you weren't a fleeting dream.

Though the need for you wouldn't go away, the desire to melt into you - become one. So close, so utterly in sync. His movements would be smooth, as gentle as he could be in this moment of exasperation. Desperation as he pinned you beneath him, so full of life as you struggled for steadiness.

Struggle as you may, you have nowhere to go. So stay and melt under his touch, cry for him as he does for you, yearn for him. Tremor beneath him as he engulfs you, skin on skin so sinfully pure - the act of becoming one as you place your hands on his chest, stabilizing yourself.

Icy eyes look down at you adoring or obsessive, hands either gentle or rough, body warm or cold, and words sweet or biting.

Stupid you are for trying to run, he warned you it would hurt you - now he's the one who has to patch you up. You cry into his shoulder as he awkwardly cradles your body, cursing himself as his blush deepens. Blame him for all he's worth but to be depended on by you was all he ever wanted. Hands in your hair as he talks to you, warming up your body. A kiss to your forehead as he relishes in your stillness, comfort. How long has it been? You aren't sure. You never did end up going back to the Little Cub Cabin. You ponder as you sip the drink he's given you. You swear it has something in it, though he proved you wrong by gulping it one go once. Nevertheless it doesn't make sense. Why else do you always end up in bed after. Limbs tangled together as your head pounds. Not that you mind, not anymore. Not when he is home.

.

.

.

Home sweet home.

Note: AHHHHHH i"ve been so obsessed with this game since playing it and oml oml this man deserves more content on him. I know this isn't my usual content but i just HAD to. Also creator/author @hereisremina of this game YOU COOKED SERVED AND ATE. I hope this little fic shows my appreciation (more coming) for the absolute artwork you've produced. Note 2: So guys i know it's been SOOOOOOO long since i last posted something significant and I am so sorry. It's been really difficult with responsibilities and a LOT of writers block. I'll try making more content but I might also be branching out to other fandoms than just TWST, as you can see here. My guilty pleasures are yanderes (yes I am self obsessed because i wanna be the one thing that consumes another's thoughts. Sue me.) so I might be focusing on such content now...who knows

Jim Walters x GN!Reader

Summary: The cycle of deviancy which leads to Jim taking you down with him. From watching you, to wanting you, then finally having you. The steps are all laid, now simply to enforce.

TW: Very suggestive, nudity, obsession/yandere, mentions of blood/slight gore, angst(ish), metaphors up for interpretation

Softened snow crunched underneath Jim's boots as he took a heavy stes, axe in hand and blood splattered on his jacket. The key turned with a jingle as he entered the haven, his home. And then there was the warmth of his home, the sheer heat wrapped in a bundle of blankets near the fire. He wondered how the intensity hadn't swallowed you up in a fever yet. The battered flooring squealed slightly as he stepped in, the one he sought not awaiting him.

Maybe it was the cold touch of his hand on your cheek that brought you back or the scent of iron - either way, it wasn't pleasant. Your wide eyes could only look up at the perpetrator of your damnation. With your serenity ruined, and even the fire crackling in protest, you got up to escape from his presence. Though, only managing to take a few steps away before stopping. His presence was the only you had in this cabin. "Has the snow stopped?" The words left your mouth in frustration, not at him but at how unlucky you'd been.

How long has it been? How much longer? No phone, no network, no nothing - did anyone even know you were alive? What about work? Your family? Your friends? What about them?

"Mm...not yet." He answered back, eyes heavy with blackened rims as he took off the layers and layers of clothes he'd accumulated. He sprung his beanie off next, letting his ashy hair free from the confine. He gently smiled up at your stilled figure - you didn't shut yourself up all day anymore, didn't hole yourself in your room. Progress was progress.

His eyes couldn't help but rake down you, not in a manner that as belittling but one that wanted to see every bit of you. You weren't sure which was worse.

"Hungry? I'll go make something." He said almost too quickly, though who were you to say no? You hadn't eaten anything yet, too scared to cook in his kitchen. It was still iffy, especially with how many cans and jars were unlabelled. One too many containers filled with red and the stench of something dying. You'd rather not know what was in them.

You took at seat the table, the rabbit carving on your neck clanking as it made contact with the edge. Why were you still wearing it? You weren't quite sure. It provided some sort of comfort, something familiar in this unknown place despite being made by a complete stranger. The times you were about to take it off, the look in Jim's eyes was enough to make you second guess and keep it tight on your throat.

Maybe it gave you closure where he didn't, where the situation itself refused to. You were staring into nothing while he stared at you, knife in hand to slice through meat.

His touch brought you back from your daydream, icy eyes dissecting you as his fingers traced down your back. His expression was quick to change into a bashful smile as if he were flustered - he truly was. His hand too whipped away from your skin as if you'd scalded him. The twinge of pink on his cheeks betrayed him, not that you bothered to look.

"It's not much.." He said, plating you a bit of everything. His hands shook gently as he added the crimson preserve, the scent still making you want to gag at times. His smile did less to quench your suspicions - and even so, who were you to question him now? Whatever he gave you was what you had been eating. It was too late to reject now, whatever it was that he fed you. Still, it made you feel sick not knowing, especially when your guesses were less than savory.

Jim had this habit of halting as he ate simply to watch you - following the curve of your throat as you swallowed each bite. The way your face reacted to different textures, flavors, tastes. You didn't notice how he'd lean closer, foot tapping frantically under the table as the red entered your mouth. Eyes widening ever so slightly in pure ecstasy. Fucking pervert.

It was only after you'd finished your meal that he'd bring tea or coffee, hot cocoa on the days you craved something sweet. Between sips he'd sneak glances at you, how you shifted when you caught him looking - the change in expression. He saw it all. He craved it.

"Jim, I feel like something's watching me." You weren't sure how many times you'd said that by now. To yourself, him, to the wall. Countless.

Days were passing by longer. Clawing at you form inside out and not once had you been out - not once had he let you.

"I'll be back soon." That's how it always went before he shut the door and locked it, axe in hand. Either that or no words exchanged at all, just silence as he came back muddled in thick maroon guts.

On the days silence stretched on - the days where the dose had been high, where your head had felt heavy, and when he'd ushered you to bed. Those were his favorite despite how wrong it felt. These days only increased - you thought you were sick.

It started with peeks through the crack of the door. His gaze lingering not on you but within you. Then he struggled closer, thinking of violet wrists and then your reddened ankles. The silent pain gnawed at him - hunger not satiated. He dared not touch until he did. It felt euphoric despite how ill it was. He only wanted more, how greedy of him.

However, he handled you so gently, palming your sides with care as he breathed down you neck. It was that irony that made it sick. Tender kisses to not leave a sign, to be here only in the moment and then disappear until you wanted him.

it's your imagination. There is no wolf. There is no predator. You are not prey. That's what he told you, what you told yourself.

It's only when it's too late does he realize how mad he is, holding himself back before rushing to his room to help himself. Ashamed of how crude he was being, of how morbid and deviant. It's not enough. He's not sure what to do and it's eating at him - piece by piece, flesh being torn apart. He'd rather be mauled than this feeling, the ache in his abdomen. The feeling of arousal and heat builds up in his sheets as he yearns, breaths muffled and groans hidden as his mind wanders. Time will hear his voice, you'll understand. And then he falls back, body drenched in sweat and mind running on overdrive, groans so deep and guttural. Feral to take and give, to receive the pleasure one seeks.

Those nights he caged you by denying, assuring, and coercing. Sweet and gentle, just detached enough so it seems like he's fine. Not a word too much, nothing more than you must know. Lies and half truths all to make you feel stupid.

Stupid, stupid stupid.

Dumb and even dumber at your own imagination. To let you feel cornered by yourself.

"Something's out to get me. That thing watches me. A monster, I don't know how to feel. That creatures lies here, it looks at me through the window..."

You're deranged. A mixture of insane and paranoid, confused about existence itself. The grasp of time is away from you and you swear phantoms speak out to you. He assures you, puzzle by puzzle and piece by piece.

"It's alright. It's okay, you're safe...here."

Something tells you that he doesn't believe it himself.

"I don't know how I should feel." The response was dry, you weren't sure if you could manage anything else.

Limbs tangled and clothes nowhere to be seen. A naked mess and a ravenous disaster all together in a pile of utter profanity. Shame. Bruised and broken with a sin that felt so good. A crime to be repeated again and again till you're deeper. Until he devours you and you consume him. Obscene.

Till you're just as lost as him. Until he steals every part of you - mind body and soul - till there's nothing but one body, one mind, one soul. A destiny forged together. Jim and you.

It was through your tears when he realized your nightmares were his dreams.

Note: THANK YOU to the WONDERFUL author/creator @hereisremina of Chilling Devotion for giving us THIS MASTERPIECE to leech off (WE LOVE AND STAN JIMMMMM)

Note 2: Inspo from the song "Monster" by Meg & Dia.

Note 3: So I've definitely moved on from my usual stuff...this is very much a big step for me...Also I had to take a break from writing because things were getting a bit too much (and writers block)!!