#deadite x reader

“M’ tired,” you mumble.

She looks down at you, then at herself. At the blood. The claws. The carnage.

“I just murdered like,” she squints, thinking, “ten people.”

You hum softly, already half-asleep.

Ellie huffs a disbelieving laugh. “You hearin’ me? Ten. Screamin’. Beggin’. Whole thing.”

You shift closer.

Her chest rumbles with a low sound—half growl, half laugh. “This is insane,” she mutters. “You’re insane.”

Her hands hover awkwardly in the air for a second, like she’s not sure where they’re allowed to go. Then one settles carefully on your back. The other cups the side of your head, claws retracting automatically.

“You smell like blood,” she adds.

“Makes me sleepy,” you whisper.

Ellie’s jaw drops. “…I don’t even wanna unpack that.”

Your breathing evens out. Fully asleep now. Using a demon like a mattress.

Ellie stares at the ceiling, blinking slowly.

“Unbelievable,” she murmurs. “Everyone else sees this face and pisses themselves.”

She looks back down at you—soft, trusting, utterly unconcerned with the fact that her hands could snap you in half.

“And you,” she says quietly, “crawl onto me like I’m a pillow.”

She adjusts her posture anyway, shifting so you’re more comfortable. One arm wraps around you, firm and protective. Her chin rests against your head.

“No one’s ever done that before,” she admits, almost to herself.

Her thumb strokes your hair in slow, absent motions. The glow in her eyes dims further, the room settling into an uneasy quiet.

“…Don’t stop,” she adds under her breath.

“Just—sleep.”