#I feel like I'm losing my mind with the way I'm desperate to live life yet stuck just existing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts · 3 months ago

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𝑺𝑪𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑴? 𝑶𝒓 𝑪𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎? (Kinktober special) (J.M)

⤷Credits: Pinterest

Summary: He hunts you through the shadows, every sick, voyeuristic moment immortalized on camera. But it's not just fear coursing through you—your most depraved desires awaken when he finally closes in and takes what he's been watching from afar.

Warnings : dub-con themes, making of porn, voyeurism (making porn and having sex for an audience), toys, role-playing, stalking, power dynamics, cat and chase, spanking choking, knife play, manhandling, praise, dirty talk, degrading, oral M!, breeding kink, fear, mask kink, VERY ROUGH, KINKY AND DARK

A/N: When I say this has been sitting in my drafts for a LONGGG TIME, I'm not lying. I loved this idea, and I hope you guys love it just as much. Thank you so much to my lovely mutuals who listened to me yap and yap about this for almost two months. I'm so sorry I haven't been active. I'm a teaching assistant, and life is wild.

You stood in the kitchen, trying hard not to glance at the camera perched atop the microwave. Its red recording light blinked steadily, reminding you that every move, every breath, was being captured. The sound of popcorn popping on the stove filled the silence of the house, a comforting rhythm in the eerie stillness. The blue tint of the night, barely enough to see by, blended with the dim candlelight scattered around the room, creating a shadowy, unsettling atmosphere. It was the perfect setting for what was about to go down, and you had to keep your composure, fighting back the grin that threatened to spread across your lips.

This wasn’t just any night. This was the fall special for Sinning Sinners, the site that you and Joel had built from the ground up. It wasn’t your usual shoot where you’d just pull out a camera, fuck each other’s brains out, and call it a day. No, this was something more—something you both lived for, something that had become a tradition, an annual ritual that made your fans lose their fucking minds. Every fall, you and Joel took things up a notch, diving headfirst into the darker, kinkier side of your fantasies. It wasn’t just about sex; it was about pushing boundaries, about blending fear and desire until the line between them blurred into something that made your audience addicted.

Last year, you’d done a haunted corn maze, where Joel had fucked you right in the middle of it, surrounded by the rustling stalks and the cool night air. You could still feel the roughness of the corn beneath your hands, still hear the way you’d moaned like a slut as Joel took you in that eerie, isolated field. The memory alone made heat pool between your legs, a filthy reminder of how wild it had been, how much your fans had eaten it up. They’d gone crazy for it, the combination of fear and lust driving them to hit replay again and again. That’s what Sinning Sinners was all about—giving them something they couldn’t get anywhere else, something that made them come back for more, desperate for whatever twisted shit you and Joel would come up with next.

It had started with a late-night viewing of Scream. The room was dark except for the flickering light of the TV, casting eerie shadows across Joel’s face as you watched the familiar scenes unfold. You’d both seen it countless times, but something about that night felt different—charged. Joel’s hand rested on your thigh, his grip tightening with every kill, every chase, his eyes never leaving the screen.

When the credits rolled, he turned to you, his expression unreadable for a moment before that spark of twisted inspiration flickered in his eyes. “You know,” he started, his voice low and deliberate, “we’ve never done anything with Ghostface before.” There was a pause, the air between you thick with the weight of his words. “What if…this year, we take it further? Darker, dirtier. You could be the clueless victim, and I could be him. Stalking you, making you wait until I’m ready to strike.”

The second he mentioned it, your heart skipped a beat, excitement rushing through your veins. You could picture it already—Joel in the mask, his voice taunting you through the fabric, the thrill of being hunted, knowing what was coming but not when. It was perfect. The embodiment of fear and lust, wrapped in a twisted, beautiful package

The house was quiet, save for the rhythmic popping of kernels on the stove. You focused on the mundane task, pouring the popcorn into a bowl as the salty scent filled the air, trying to keep your cool. But it wasn’t easy. The night was thick with tension, the kind you could almost taste, like the first touch of a lover’s hand. You knew Joel was out there, somewhere in the darkness, watching you with those predatory eyes, waiting for his cue. It was all part of the game—the unspoken thrill of knowing you were being hunted, of playing dumb when you were anything but.

You bit your lip, fighting the urge to glance out the window. You’d agreed not to look, not to break character, even though every instinct screamed at you to check, to catch a glimpse of him lurking in the shadows. Instead, you turned your attention to the DVD shelf, your fingers brushing over the spines of the old horror movies. The camera, placed discreetly beside it, was rolling, capturing the subtle tremor in your hands, the way your breath hitched when you thought about what was coming. You grabbed a classic—something with blood, screams, and just the right amount of tension—and turned your back to the camera, giving the viewers a perfect shot of the darkened window behind you. They’d be watching, waiting, knowing exactly what was coming even if you were supposed to be oblivious.

You carried the bowl and the DVD down the hallway, the soft creak of the floorboards beneath your feet adding to the tension. The house felt alive, every shadow shifting as you passed as if it were in on the game. Your thoughts wandered to what was waiting in the bedroom, not just the TV and blankets, but also the props and toys you’d stashed away earlier. A black silk blindfold, a sleek vibrator, a collection of menacingly gleaming, faux weapons—everything was set, just in case things took a darker turn. The details mattered, after all.They were what made Sinning Sinners so addictive. The unpredictability, the raw, unfiltered lust that seeped into every frame, every shot. You never planned the sex, only the build-up—the suspense, the tension that made it all so fucking good.

You reached your bedroom, setting the DVD case on the dresser before catching sight of yourself in the mirror. You paused, taking in the reflection—a girl who looked sweet and innocent, but whose eyes held darker secrets. The oversized Scream shirt you wore hung just low enough to brush the tops of your thighs, barely covering the black lace panties beneath. It was the perfect look for what was coming next, just enough innocence to make the chase all the more thrilling.

You grabbed the old-school camera from the nightstand, the one you loved for its Y2K aesthetic, and snapped a quick photo. The flash momentarily blinded you, and you knew this shot would have to be carefully edited out of the final cut, but when your vision cleared, the result was exactly what you wanted. A keepsake, a little reminder of the night and the game you were about to play.

Finally, you settled into bed, propping yourself up against the pillows as the movie started to play. The flickering light from the TV cast eerie shadows across the room, heightening the tension. You let yourself get lost in it for a moment, the familiar scenes of blood and screams playing out on the screen, a reflection of the chaos that would soon unfold in your own home. But your mind wasn’t on the movie. It was on Joel, on the darkness creeping closer, on the game you’d both set in motion.

And then, you heard it—a faint creak, barely audible over the sound of the movie. But it was enough. Your breath hitched, your heart skipping a beat as you strained to listen. Another sound followed, this one more distinct, coming from the living room. The cue. It was time.

You slid out of bed, the cool air kissing your bare legs as you padded toward the door. Every step was deliberate, every movement calculated to match the growing tension. You were supposed to be scared, after all. You were supposed to be the clueless girl in the horror movie, the one who heard a noise and just had to investigate. It was cliché, but that was the point. The audience would be yelling at their screens, telling you to stay put, but you knew better. You knew exactly what was coming.

The living room was dimly lit, shadows stretching across the floor as you slowly entered. The popcorn bowl from earlier sat untouched on your dresser, a silent reminder of the night’s buildup. Your eyes drifted to the window, where the curtains fluttered ever so slightly, caught by a breeze you hadn’t noticed before. You tried to ignore the unsettling chill that crept up your spine, but you couldn’t help but notice the faint movement just outside—a hint of something, or someone, lurking in the darkness.

But you felt it. You felt him.

You took a hesitant step forward, your eyes scanning the room as if you were searching for the source of the sound. The anticipation was electric, sending shivers down your spine. Then, from the corner of your eye, you saw it—the flicker of movement, the unmistakable shape of a figure slipping into the room. You turned, just in time to see him, clad in black, the Ghostface mask gleaming in the dim light.

Your heart leaped into your throat as he lunged at you. You yelped, more out of excitement than fear, and bolted toward the kitchen. Your bare feet slapped against the hardwood as you ran, the thrill of the chase making your pulse race. You knew he was right behind you, could feel his presence like a shadow closing in.

The kitchen was dark, lit only by the faint glow of candles. You skidded to a stop, chest heaving as you spun around to face him. There he was, just a few feet away, the knife in his hand catching the light as he approached. The sight of him, the menace in his slow, deliberate steps, sent a delicious thrill through you.

You backed up against the counter, feeling the cool edge press into your lower back as Joel closed in on you. The Ghostface mask obscured his face, but you knew his eyes were locked on you, hungry, predatory. The thrill of the chase had your heart racing, adrenaline and desire blending into a heady mix that made your skin tingle. You watched as he glanced around the kitchen, his gaze settling on the knife block just within arm’s reach. He didn’t have a weapon with him��of course, he didn’t—but now, as his gloved hand wrapped around the handle of a large kitchen knife, the game took on a sharper, more dangerous edge.

Your breath hitched as he raised the knife, its gleaming blade catching the candlelight. For a split second, you were frozen, caught between the rush of fear and the wave of arousal that flooded your senses. This was what you craved—the danger, the tension, the feeling of being completely at someone else’s mercy. But you weren’t ready to give in just yet.

In a sudden burst of movement, you lifted your foot and stomped down hard on his, the force of it catching him by surprise. Joel grunted, the sound muffled by the mask, and his grip on the knife faltered just enough for you to slip past him. You bolted for the hallway, your heart pounding in your chest as you sprinted toward the bedroom, the thrill of the escape making you lightheaded. You could hear him behind you, his heavy footsteps echoing in the quiet house, getting closer with every second.

You burst into the bedroom and slammed the door behind you, but it barely slowed him down. You knew he was right there, just a heartbeat away. You stumbled back, your legs shaky from the rush, and tripped over the edge of the rug. You went down hard, knees hitting the floor with a jolt of pain that only added to the intensity of the moment. The door crashed open, and there he was, looming in the doorway, the knife still clutched in his hand.

“Please, mister Ghostface,” you whimpered, crawling backward as he advanced on you. “Don’t kill me. I’ll do anything.”

The words tumbled out of your mouth, breathless, desperate, exactly what he wanted to hear. You were playing your role to perfection, the terrified victim begging for her life, but beneath the surface, you were buzzing with anticipation. You knew the script—you knew he wouldn’t speak, wouldn’t break character. The silence was part of the game, part of what made it so thrilling. It kept you on edge, never knowing what he’d do next, never knowing when he’d strike.

You tried to crawl away, but you were trembling too much, your movements slow, uncoordinated. The heat between your legs was almost unbearable, the pulse of arousal matching the rhythm of your pounding heart. You knew you should be scared, terrified even, but all you could think about was how fucking turned on you were. Every time you glanced up at that mask, and saw the cold, expressionless eyes staring down at you, it sent another wave of desire crashing through you.

Your hands slipped on the floor as you tried to scramble to your feet, but before you could get far, he was on you. Joel’s hand shot out, grabbing your ankle and dragging you back toward him. You yelped, twisting in his grip, but it was useless. You were caught, and you both knew it. You fell back onto your knees, breath coming in ragged gasps as you looked up at him, eyes wide, pleading.

Your breath came in ragged gasps as you looked up at him, eyes wide and pleading. The air between you was thick with tension, every nerve in your body screaming with anticipation. You knew what was coming, and yet the thrill of it sent shivers down your spine. The Ghostface mask stared back at you, cold and unfeeling, but you knew Joel was beneath it, knew he was savoring this moment as much as you were. The thought made your pulse quicken, the heat between your legs growing more intense with every passing second.

Joel’s grip on your ankle was firm and possessive, and you could feel the strength in his hand as he slowly, deliberately pulled you closer. You tried to resist, to put up a token fight, but it was half-hearted at best. Deep down, you wanted this—wanted him to overpower you, to take control. The struggle only heightened your desire, making your skin tingle with excitement as you were dragged back across the floor.

His gloved hand trailed up your leg, rough leather brushing against your sensitive skin, sending a jolt of electricity straight to your core. You bit your lip, stifling a moan as his touch grew more suggestive, his fingers grazing the hem of your panties. The sensation was maddening, a teasing reminder of what you craved, what you’d been waiting for all night. You arched your back slightly, pushing into his touch, silently begging for more, but he didn’t give in—not yet.

Instead, he took his time, savoring your helplessness, the way you trembled beneath him. His other hand found its way to your waist, fingers digging into your flesh just enough to make you squirm. He held you there, pinned in place, and the dominance in his grip made your breath hitch, a sharp intake of air that only made you feel more vulnerable, more at his mercy. The knife, still clutched in his other hand, gleamed ominously in the dim light, a silent reminder of the power he held over you.

With a sudden, forceful motion, Joel lifted you by your hips, his strength taking you by surprise as he hoisted you onto the bed. You let out a gasp as your body was flipped, your stomach pressed against the mattress, your ass in the air. The position left you exposed, and vulnerable, and the cool air on your bare skin only heightened the sensation. Your panties clung to you, soaked through with arousal, and the thought of him seeing you like this—desperate, needy—sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you.

You turned your head to look back at him, the mask still hiding his face, but you knew what was behind it. You knew the look in his eyes, the hunger, the need. It made your heart race, made you want to push him further, to see just how far he’d take it. A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips, a hint of defiance in your gaze as you wiggled your hips slightly, teasing him, challenging him.

“What’s the matter, Ghostface?” you taunted, your voice dripping with mock innocence. “You gonna make me beg for it?”

The tension in the room crackled like electricity, your words hanging in the air, daring him to react. You could feel the heat of his stare through the mask, the way his breathing had grown heavier, more deliberate. You were pushing your luck, and you knew it, but that was half the fun. You wanted to see just how far you could go, how much you could provoke him before he snapped.

Joel’s hand tightened on your waist, fingers digging in harder, and you couldn’t suppress the moan that slipped from your lips. The sting of it, the roughness, only added to the ache between your legs, made you grind against the bed in a futile attempt to relieve the pressure building inside you. You wanted him—wanted him to take you, to claim you, to make you his. But he didn’t move, didn’t give you what you were silently pleading for.

Instead, he leaned in close, the knife gliding along the curve of your ass, cold metal sending chills down your spine. You shivered, the sensation both terrifying and thrilling, the line between fear and desire blurring even further. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you—knew this was all part of the game—but that didn’t stop your heart from racing, didn’t stop the pulse of arousal that throbbed between your thighs.

But when he finally spoke, it wasn’t with words. It was with action. His hand left your waist and came down hard on your ass, the sharp smack of it echoing through the room. You gasped, the sudden pain mingling with pleasure, leaving you breathless. It was exactly what you’d been waiting for, that rough, unyielding touch that reminded you who was in control. Your bratty defiance melted away, replaced by a desperate need to please him, to be good for him.

The weight of the bed shifted beneath you, the mattress dipping slightly as Joel moved. You could feel his presence hovering behind you, the tension crackling in the air like a live wire. The anticipation was unbearable, your body thrumming with a desperate need for him. You knew what was coming, could sense the change in the atmosphere, the way the game was evolving into something even more intense.

You closed your eyes, biting your lip as you tried to focus on the sensations coursing through you. The sound of fabric rustling behind you sent a shiver down your spine, the unmistakable sign that Joel was shedding his clothes, leaving only the mask to maintain the illusion. Your heart raced at the thought, your imagination running wild with what he’d do next, how he’d use that control to push you to your limits.

The bed shifted again, and you felt his hands on your hips, rough and demanding as he flipped you over onto your back. Your eyes fluttered open, immediately locking onto the masked face hovering above you. The sight was both terrifying and exhilarating, that blank, soulless expression sending a rush of adrenaline through your veins. The contrast between the mask and the naked body beneath it was a stark reminder of the power dynamics at play, the thrill of surrendering to something dark and unknown.

Before you could react, his hand was on your throat, fingers wrapping around your neck with a possessive grip that made your breath catch. The pressure wasn’t enough to hurt, but it was enough to send a clear message—one of dominance, of control. Your pulse quickened, the thrum of it vibrating against his palm as he leaned in closer, the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress.

His other hand moved to your mouth, a single finger pressing against your lips in a silent command to stay quiet. The shh motion was simple, but the intensity behind it made your stomach twist with excitement. He didn’t need to speak; his actions said everything, and you were more than willing to follow his lead. You were completely at his mercy, and the thought of what he might do next made your body hum with anticipation.

Your thoughts spiraled in a chaotic mix of desire and anticipation, each passing second tightening the knot of tension inside you. Pinned beneath Joel’s weight, you could feel every beat of his heart, every rise and fall of his chest as he loomed over you, the room closing in, suffocating you in the intensity of the moment. Each breath felt heavier, every second stretching out, the silence amplifying the raw need that pulsed between you like a live wire. Your mind raced, imagining all the ways he might break you—would he drag it out, tease you until you were trembling and desperate, or would he take what he wanted in that dark, primal way that left you aching for more? The uncertainty was maddening, fueling the fire that burned hotter with every second, leaving you trembling beneath him, craving whatever came next.

His hand lingered on your throat, the pressure a warning, a promise of what was to come. But then it shifted, slipping away only to tangle roughly in your hair, yanking your head back with a sharp tug that sent a jolt of electricity down your spine. You gasped, the sting of it igniting something deep inside you, a spark that fanned into a wildfire. His grip tightened, possessive, commanding, and it made your blood hum with anticipation. But before you could even think to protest, to utter a single word, his other hand cracked across your cheek with a sharp, stinging slap. The sound echoed through the room, mingling with your ragged breath, the pain mingling with the heat pooling low in your belly, your body instinctively arching toward him, craving more.

You whimpered, the sound breaking free before you could stop it, a desperate little plea that hung in the air between you. But before you could say more, Joel brought a finger to his lips, signaling you to stay silent. The power in that small gesture sent a shiver down your spine, making you bite down on your lower lip to keep from crying out again. Your mind scrambled, caught between the urge to obey and the desire to push him, to see just how far he’d go to enforce that command.

“Please…,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath, the word laced with the need clawing at you from the inside. “Please, I need—”

His hand snapped out, pressing against your mouth in a firm, silencing grip. The warning was clear: no more words. The message sent a rush of heat straight to your core, leaving you trembling beneath him, your breath hitching as the tension wound tighter. The edge of danger, the unknown, had you teetering on the brink, each second a delicious torture.

His grip on your hair tightened, forcing your head back further, exposing your neck as his hand slid down from your cheek to wrap around your throat again, squeezing just enough to keep you on edge, to remind you who was in control. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the hardness pressing against your thigh, a silent promise of what was to come. When he finally released you, your lips parted on their own, eager and ready, a silent invitation, your body screaming for him, for the release only he could give.

Joel didn’t waste a second. The urgency in his movements was palpable as he shoved his pants down just enough to free himself. Your eyes widened at the sight of him—thick, veined, and already slick with precum. It stood proud and heavy, the tip flushed a deep, angry red, a testament to how badly he needed this, how badly he needed you. The sight of it made your mouth water, every nerve in your body singing with the anticipation of what was coming next. He didn’t bother with teasing, didn’t ease you into it. No, he was done with patience.

With a rough tug on your hair, he pulled your head down, forcing your mouth open as he guided the head of his cock to your lips. The taste of salt hit your tongue, heady and intoxicating, and you opened wider, welcoming him in. He pushed forward, the thick head sliding past your lips, inch by inch, stretching your mouth in the most delicious way. There was no gentleness, no care in his movements—he took what he wanted, and you let him, relishing the way he filled you, the way his cock slid deeper, hitting the back of your throat with a force that made you gag, your eyes watering.

But you didn’t pull back. You leaned into it, taking him as far as you could, the taste of him filling your senses. His hips rocked forward with a steady rhythm, his grip in your hair unyielding as he held you in place, his breathing ragged, chest heaving. Every thrust sent a jolt through you, the sound of your gagging, the wet, vulgar noises your mouth made as it worked around him echoing in the small room. Your hands found his thighs, nails digging in, desperate for something to hold onto as you tried to keep up with the pace he set. You could feel him trembling, his breath hitching as he fucked your mouth, each thrust harder than the last, pushing you to your limits.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, when the burn in your throat became too much, he pulled out abruptly, leaving you gasping for air, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. But there was no reprieve. Joel spun you around, flipping you onto your back with a force that left you breathless, your head spinning. The bed creaked beneath you as he grabbed your hips, lifting you up and positioning you exactly how he wanted—bent over the edge of the bed, your ass in the air, your face pressed into the cool sheets. The position was humiliating and degrading, and it only made you want him more. You could feel the bruises forming where his fingers dug into your skin, the pain a sharp contrast to the pleasure that thrummed through you, making your body tremble with need.

He wasted no time, no gentle caress—just pure, unfiltered need. His cock nudged against your entrance, the wetness there making it easy for him to slide in. The stretch was exquisite, each inch of him filling you in a way that made your toes curl, your back arching as you tried to take more, to feel more. He went slow at first, almost teasing, just enough to drive you crazy, to make you desperate. But the patience didn’t last. Joel wasn’t in the mood for slow.

With a growl, he grabbed your legs, yanking them together at the knees, binding them tightly with the rope he had stashed nearby. The sensation of being bound, completely at his mercy, made your head spin, your thoughts blurring with the intensity of it. You whimpered into the pillow, your voice muffled, but he didn’t care. His hands slid up your sides, his touch firm, and possessive, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. You could barely breathe, the weight of him pressing down on you, the way he filled you so completely making it hard to think, hard to focus on anything but the overwhelming need to be fucked, to be owned.

“Please…” The word slipped out, barely a whisper, but he heard it. He heard the desperation, the plea, and it only made him smirk. His fingers found your lips, pressing against them in a silent command for silence, a reminder that you were his to control, to take.

And take he did.

He thrust into you hard, his hips snapping forward with a force that made the bed creak beneath you. The angle was different now, deeper, more intense, each thrust hitting a spot inside you that had you seeing stars. You could feel every inch of him, the way he pulsed inside you, the way his cock twitched with every movement. He leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back, the heat of his body wrapping around you, suffocating in the most delicious way. The weight of him, the sheer power behind each thrust, made it hard to breathe, hard to think. But you didn’t care. You didn’t need to think. All you needed was him, and he gave it to you—hard and unrelenting.

His grip on your arms tightened, holding you in place as he started to pound into you, each thrust harder than the last, driving you into the mattress with a force that left you breathless. The bed shook with the intensity of it, your body jerking with each movement, your mind going blank as you surrendered to the rhythm he set, the brutal, unforgiving pace that had you on the edge of oblivion. The mix of pain and pleasure was overwhelming, your senses overloaded, your thoughts reduced to a single, all-consuming need. More. You needed more.

At some point, he reached up, and grabbed your hair again, yanking your head back so he could take a picture with the camera perched nearby. The flash went off, a quick burst of light that left you momentarily blinded, but you barely noticed. All you could focus on was the way his cock felt inside you, the way his movements became more erratic, more desperate as he neared his release. The tension in the air was thick, suffocating, each thrust sending you closer to the edge, the pleasure coiling tight in your belly, ready to snap.

And then it did.

With one final, brutal thrust, Joel slammed into you, burying himself deep as he came, the hot rush of his seed flooding you, marking you as his. Your body responded instinctively, clenching around him, milking every last drop as a moan tore from your lips, muffled against the mattress. The orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, leaving you trembling and breathless, your mind wiped clean by the sheer intensity of it.

He stayed there for a moment, his breath heavy and labored, his body pressed firmly against yours, the heat of him enveloping you like a suffocating blanket. The world felt distant, the only reality was the sensation of him inside you, the raw, primal connection that had just played out between you. And then, as quickly as it had begun, it was over. Joel pulled out, the sudden emptiness making you shudder, your body still quivering from the aftershocks, your mind struggling to piece together what had just transpired.

The weight of Joel’s body finally lifted as he pushed himself up, his chest rising and falling with ragged, labored breaths. For a moment, the only sound in the room was the heavy panting, the bed creaking softly beneath you both as the raw intensity of what had just happened lingered in the air like a living thing. You could feel the heat radiating from his skin, the slick sheen of sweat clinging to him, his hands still trembling slightly as he reached up to remove the mask.

Slowly, Joel peeled off the Ghostface mask, revealing his flushed, sweat-slicked face beneath. His hair was damp, clinging to his forehead in dark, messy strands, and his eyes—those dark, intense eyes—were still clouded with the remnants of desire. The sight of him, so raw and exposed, sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, your body instinctively responding to the primal energy he exuded. Even after everything, he still looked insatiable—like he could take more, give more, his hunger a tangible force that hung in the air between you, making you ache all over again.

Joel let out a long, satisfied breath, his half-smirk teasing as he shook his head. “Fuck,” he muttered, his voice hoarse and deep, the rasp of it crawling down your spine. “We’re done, sweetheart. Scene’s over.”

You laughed, soft and breathless, your body still humming from the intensity of what had just happened. “That was fucking intense,” you managed to say, your voice thick with exhaustion and satisfaction, your muscles still quivering in the aftermath.

Joel chuckled, the sound deep and rich, as he ran a hand through his damp hair, pushing it back from his forehead. He leaned against the headboard, a low groan escaping him as he tried to catch his breath. “I’m telling you, baby,” he said with a smirk, his voice still ragged from exertion. “I’m fifty-six fuckin’ years old. Keep this up, and I might need a vasectomy just to survive.”

You snorted, the sound muffled by the pillow as you turned your head, grinning at him. “Maybe you should consider it,” you teased, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “But then again, where’s the fun in that? I’d miss all that old man cum you’re so damn good at shooting.”

Joel rolled his eyes, his breath still uneven, but his lips quirked up in amusement. “Right,” he drawled, his voice dry as ever. “That’s definitely what you’d miss most.”

You shrugged, the banter lightening the air between you. But even as the playful words filled the space, your gaze was drawn back to him—the way sweat still glistened on his skin, the flush across his cheeks, the steady rise and fall of his chest. His body was like a furnace, radiating heat that pulled you in, and despite the teasing, you could feel the tension building again, that familiar hunger stirring deep within you.

God, his age did something to you. There was something undeniably sexy about the way he carried himself, the way experience was etched into every line on his rugged face, in every confident movement. Joel knew exactly how to touch you, how to push you past your limits and pull you back just before you fell over the edge. The years had only made him more magnetic, the broad expanse of his chest, the strength in his arms, the silver at his temples—every mark of time made him even more devastatingly irresistible. He wasn’t some boy fumbling his way through; he was all man, and that raw masculinity turned you on in ways you couldn’t even fully explain.

Your teeth sank into your lower lip as you took him in, your eyes tracing the rough stubble along his jaw, the beads of sweat clinging to his skin, the slow rhythm of his breathing as he began to recover. The thought of what he was capable of, what he had already done to you, sent a fresh surge of heat flooding your core. Your body was already aching for more, the desire rekindled like an unquenchable fire, burning hotter with every glance.

Without thinking, you shifted closer, your hand trailing down his chest, the hard muscle flexing beneath your fingertips. His breath hitched at the contact, his body tensing beneath your touch. You leaned in, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper as your lips hovered near his ear. “You know, Joel,” you purred, your tone dripping with want, “it’s fucking hot that you can still fuck me like this. Fifty-six and still going strong? That’s a serious turn-on.”

His eyes darkened instantly, the playful amusement giving way to something more dangerous, more primal. “You think so?” he murmured, his voice rough and gravelly, sending a shiver racing down your spine. “You like fucking an old man, huh?”

“Love it,” you whispered, your hand sliding lower, teasing the waistband of his pants. “You’ve got experience, you know exactly what you’re doing, and it’s sexy as hell.”

The tension between you thickened, the air charged with electricity. The teasing words from earlier faded into the background as that insatiable hunger flared up again, demanding attention. Without another word, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his in a rough, heated kiss. The taste of his sweat lingered on your tongue, mingling with the musk of sex still clinging to his skin. The kiss was intense, a clash of teeth and tongues, the kind that left bruises and made you ache for more.

Joel responded instantly, his mouth claiming yours with a raw hunger that left you breathless. His hands slid up your back, pulling you closer, his fingers digging into your skin in a way that sent sparks of pleasure shooting through you. The heat of him pressed against you, reigniting that fire burning in your belly, a fire that demanded to be fed.

You pulled back just enough to grab the Ghostface mask, your fingers brushing against the cool plastic as you lifted it from his lap. You held it up, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you looked at him, your lips curving into a playful smirk. “My turn?”

Joel raised an eyebrow, a slow, crooked grin spreading across his face as he leaned back against the bed, clearly amused. “You sure you can handle it, Ghostface?” His voice was thick with anticipation, but there was a challenge there too, something dark and thrilling.

You slipped the mask over your head, adjusting it until it fit snugly, the darkness of it shrouding your vision, heightening every sensation. The thrill of the role reversal sent a shiver down your spine, your heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and excitement. Through the narrow eyeholes, you could see Joel watching you, his grin widening as he leaned back on the bed, his hands resting behind his head, his gaze trailing over your body.

“Oh, I can handle it,” you purred, your voice muffled and distorted by the mask, but the confidence in your tone was unmistakable. “Question is… can you?”

Joel’s laughter filled the room, a deep, rich sound that made your pulse quicken. “Bring it on, baby,” he challenged, his voice thick with anticipation. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

You didn’t need any more encouragement. With a swift, determined movement, you straddled his hips, the feel of his hard length pressing against your core sending a jolt of desire straight through you. The mask heightened everything—the darkness, the mystery, the anonymity—and it made you feel powerful, dangerous, like you could do anything, take anything.

You ground down against him, teasingly slow, the friction making both of you groan in raw pleasure. “You like this, old man?” you taunted, your voice a low, sultry growl that cut through the room like a blade. “You like it when I’m on top, calling the shots?”

Joel’s fingers dug into your hips, his grip bruising as he tried to take back control, to guide the rhythm, but you weren’t about to let that happen. With a swift motion, you shoved his hands away, reclaiming your dominance with a fierce determination. The heat between your thighs was unbearable, the throbbing of his cock against you making it almost impossible to resist the urge to give in. But you were far from finished.

Straddling him, you felt a surge of power course through you, the mask hiding the wicked smile that curled your lips. “You think just because you’ve got a few years on me, you can control me?” you challenged, your voice muffled by the mask, but the taunting edge in your tone was unmistakable, dripping with dark satisfaction.

Joel's eyes narrowed, the playful gleam in them giving way to something far darker, more intense. His pupils dilated, his gaze locking onto yours with a challenge that made your pulse quicken. “I know I can,” he growled, his voice thick with conviction. In one swift motion, he bucked his hips upward, and the sudden pressure of him—thick and unforgiving—against your core forced a stifled moan from your lips, the sound muffled by the mask. The sensation was electric, the jolt of it spreading through your body, but you were determined not to let him win this round.

The heat between your legs was almost unbearable, your arousal slick and ready, but you held back, savoring the power you had over him in this moment. You leaned forward, your masked face just inches from his, the darkness of the Ghostface mask amplifying the wicked grin spreading across your lips. “You love it when I take charge, don’t you?” you whispered, your voice low and dripping with seductive malice. Your fingers wrapped around his length, feeling the way his cock twitched in your grip, hard and pulsing with need.

He groaned, the sound deep and guttural, his breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps as you rubbed the tip of him against your slick folds. The tease was torturous—for both of you—but it only fueled the fire burning in your belly. The friction was delicious, sending sparks of pleasure through you, but you held him just at the edge, denying him the satisfaction of slipping inside.

Joel’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck straining as he glared up at you, his chest heaving with barely controlled desire. “You think you’re tough shit, don’t you?” he spat, the challenge in his voice unmistakable. “Playing games with me? You know damn well who’s really in control here.”

Your heart raced, the thrill of his words sending a shiver down your spine. But you weren’t about to back down. The power you felt in this moment was intoxicating, and you reveled in it, letting it wash over you like a drug. You leaned in even closer, the mask brushing against his face, your breath hot and heavy as you whispered, “I’m the one calling the shots tonight, old man. And you’re going to beg for it.”

His breath hitched, a low growl rumbling from his chest as he stared up at you, the tension between you crackling like a live wire. It was a dangerous game you were playing, one that could flip on a dime, but that only made it more exhilarating. Without warning, you sank down on him, taking him in inch by agonizing inch, the stretch of him filling you completely. The sensation was almost too much—your body trembling as you tried to accommodate his size—but you reveled in the delicious torment of it, in the way his eyes widened, his lips parting in a silent groan as he felt you envelope him.

Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat sending a fresh wave of heat through you as you adjusted to the feel of him inside you. The fullness was overwhelming, a delicious mix of pain and pleasure that left you breathless. You could feel every inch of him, thick and pulsing, stretching you to your limits, but instead of relenting, you pushed back against the sensation, embracing it, letting it consume you.

Joel’s hands shot to your thighs, his grip bruising as he tried to regain some semblance of control. But you weren’t about to let him. You started to move, your pace slow and torturous at first, dragging out every inch of him until he was panting beneath you, his body straining with the effort to hold back. The power you felt in that moment was intoxicating, a heady mix of control and desire that made your whole body hum with pleasure.

“Fuck, baby,” Joel groaned, his voice strained, his control slipping as you rode him harder, faster. His head fell back against the pillows, his eyes squeezing shut as he fought to keep up with you, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. “You’re going to kill me.”

A wicked grin spread across your lips beneath the mask, your own breath coming faster as you leaned in close, your voice dripping with mockery. “Good,” you hissed, your breath hot against his skin, your words cutting like a knife. “I want you to feel every fucking second of this.”

Your pace quickened, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room, each thrust sending a wave of pleasure crashing through you. You could feel him throbbing inside you, the tension coiling tighter and tighter, but you were relentless, driving him to the edge, pushing him to the brink until he was gasping for breath, his control hanging by a thread.

But Joel wasn’t one to be outdone. His hands tightened on your hips, his grip ironclad as he suddenly flipped you over, pinning you beneath him with a swift, powerful motion. The loss of control sent a thrill through you, a mix of fear and excitement that made your heart race. The mask slipped slightly, but you didn’t care—you were too far gone, too caught up in the intensity of it all.

“Can’t hear you too well through that mask, baby,” he taunted, his voice low and rough, dripping with a primal need that smoldered between you. It was that shift—how effortlessly he went from serious to sexy, from calm to commanding—that made your heart race. You loved how he could flip the switch so quickly, one moment a stern, unyielding force, the next a devilish tease who knew exactly how to push your buttons. He flashed the safe signal, his eyes locking onto yours, daring you to stop him, but you didn’t even consider it. You nodded, giving him the go-ahead, and in that instant, he seized control completely.

Joel didn’t hold back. His thrusts were relentless, each one harder and deeper than the last, pushing you to the brink of madness with every stroke. Your breath came in ragged gasps, the pleasure so intense it danced on the edge of pain, each powerful movement driving you closer to the precipice of ecstasy. The mask you wore muffled your moans, but Joel didn’t need to hear them to know how much you were enjoying this—he could feel it in the way your body clung to his, in the way you tightened around him with every thrust, your nails digging into his back as if trying to anchor yourself amidst the storm of sensation.

“You forget who you’re fucking with,” Joel snarled, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through your very bones. His words were rough, filled with a dark, commanding energy that sent a thrill straight to your core. “I’m not some green kid you can boss around, baby. I’m a grown-ass man, and I know exactly how to make you fucking scream.” The raw authority in his tone was intoxicating, feeding into your desire as he took you to a place where you craved nothing more than to lose control under his relentless dominance.

His words ignited something primal within you, a heady mix of fear and desire that had your heart racing. Before you could respond, he punctuated his declaration with a hard, brutal thrust that tore a cry from your throat, your back arching off the bed as pleasure detonated inside you, leaving you trembling. The power he wielded over you in that moment was absolute, and though part of you wanted to fight back, to reassert your dominance, the larger part of you was helpless under the force of his will.

Joel’s hands were like iron bands around your wrists, pinning them above your head as he took full control, his body a solid, unyielding presence pressing against yours. The heat of his skin, the relentless pace he set—it was all-consuming, overwhelming, leaving you breathless and on the edge of losing yourself completely in the moment. His grip tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh just enough to remind you who was in charge, who had the power, and the weight of that realization sent a shiver down your spine.

Without missing a beat, Joel lifted the mask just enough to expose your mouth, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. He needed to hear you, to know that every word, every moan, was uninhibited, unfiltered, and raw. His breath was hot against your ear as he leaned in, his voice a dark, velvety whisper that held a dangerous edge.

“Tell me who you belong to,” he growled, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear in a way that made your entire body tremble. The command in his voice was undeniable, a rough, primal demand that left no room for hesitation. “Say it, baby. Say my fucking name.”

The sound of his voice, so close, so dominant, sent a surge of desire through you, making it impossible to resist. You could feel the tension building, the pressure of his control wrapping around you like a vice, squeezing out every last ounce of resistance. You knew what he wanted to hear, and as the words formed on your lips, the last remnants of your willpower crumbled.

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the flood of words he demanded, but the relentless pressure of his cock, the way he filled you so completely, left you with no choice. The words were ripped from your throat, a desperate, breathless moan. “You,” you gasped, your voice breaking under the strain of it all. “Fuck, Joel, it’s you. All fucking yours.”

The admission seemed to unlock something primal in Joel, an almost feral grin spreading across his face as he looked down at you, eyes dark with possessive intensity. “Damn right,” he growled, the words thick with dominance and a promise that sent a shiver straight through you. His grip on your hips tightened, fingers digging into your flesh with bruising force as he pulled you closer, driving himself deeper inside you. Each thrust became more erratic, more brutal, as he pushed you both to the brink, his body moving with a relentless, desperate rhythm that left you breathless.

“I’m gonna fill you up, baby,” he rasped, his voice a low, guttural sound that vibrated through your entire body. “Mark you as mine, so you never forget it. So none of them ever forget it.”

It wasn’t just the physical act—Joel loved reminding your viewers and, more importantly, you, exactly who you belonged to, both on and off the camera. His possessiveness was more than just a game; it was a declaration, a brand that he was intent on leaving imprinted on every inch of you. He reveled in the power, in the knowledge that no matter what you showed the world, in the end, you were his. And he wanted everyone to know it—especially you.

His words were the final push you needed, the tipping point that sent you careening over the edge. The coil of tension in your belly tightened impossibly before snapping, your orgasm crashing over you with a force that ripped through your entire being. Your body trembled violently, every muscle tensing as you cried out his name, the sound raw and desperate, echoing in the small space between you.

You felt your walls clench around him, milking him as the pleasure tore through you in relentless waves, each one more powerful than the last. It was overwhelming, an onslaught of sensation so intense it bordered on painful as if every nerve ending had caught fire. Your mind went blank, lost in the haze of ecstasy that consumed you, your vision blurring as your senses overloaded.

But Joel wasn’t done with you. Even as you came, he kept moving, his thrusts relentless, determined to draw every last ounce of pleasure from your body. You were oversensitive, every touch, every movement sending shocks of sensation through you, but there was nothing you could do to stop him, no way to slow the onslaught of pleasure-pain that had you teetering on the edge of sanity.

“Look at you,” Joel taunted, his voice a rough whisper as he watched you come undone beneath him. “Thought you were in control, huh? Thought you could make me beg? Well, baby, it’s you who’s begging now.”

He lifted the mask slightly, just enough to hear you more clearly, to see the desperation in your eyes as he continued to drive into you. His breath was hot against your skin, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. “Tell me what you want,” he commanded, his voice dark and demanding. “Beg for it, baby. Beg for me to cum inside you.”

You could barely form words, your brain fogged by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins. But you managed to choke out a reply, your voice shaking with need. “Please, Joel,” you whispered, the desperation in your voice clear. “Fuck, I need you. Please, just… just cum inside me. Fill me up. Please.”

The sound of your pleading pushed Joel over the edge, and with a deep, animalistic growl, he slammed into you one final time. His release was fierce, filling you to the brim, hot and thick, exactly as he promised. It sent you spiraling into another

mind-blowing orgasm, your body locking around him, milking him dry as your walls clenched, squeezing every last drop out of him.

The sound of your pleading seemed to push Joel over the edge. With a low, guttural growl, he thrust into you one last time, burying himself deep inside you as his own orgasm hit, his release hot and overwhelming, filling you up just as he promised. The sensation sent you spiraling into another wave of pleasure, your body tightening around him, milking him for every last drop as you both rode out the aftershocks together.

It was damn near unbelievable how many times he'd come-his stamina, his relentless drive. Joel was fifty-fucking-six, and still, he had you unraveling over and over, your own body shaking with pleasure more times than you could count. The heat between you was addictive, his age only adding to the intensity of it. Most men his age couldn't keep up after one round, but Joel? He fucked like a man half his age, like he had something to prove. And every time he buried himself deep inside you, filling you up again and again, it reminded you exactly who the fuck you belonged to.

The world around you ceased to exist. The only thing that mattered was the primal connection between you, the harsh panting of your breath, the erratic pounding of your heart echoing in your ears. Your bodies were trembling, utterly spent and satisfied beyond words. Joel's weight on top of you was grounding his presence a reminder that this- he-was yours

Finally, he rolled off you, collapsing beside you on the bed, both of you struggling to catch your breath. The mask lay discarded somewhere between you, forgotten in the haze of exhaustion and satisfaction. Joel reached out, pulling you into his arms as you trembled with the aftershocks that still rippled through your body, your muscles twitching with the remnants of pleasure

"Still think you're in charge?" Joel's voice was low, teasing, though his eyes were soft, filled with a tenderness that made your heart skip a beat.

You didn't have the energy to argue, not after the way he'd fucked you senseless, so you just smiled, curling into his side. Your fingers lazily traced circles on his chest, his skin still warm and slick with sweat. "Maybe we both are," you whispered, pressing a soft kiss against his chest, savoring the salty taste of his skin, the feeling of him still lingering deep inside you.

Joel chuckled, a deep, satisfied rumble that reverberated through his chest. His arms tightened around you, his lips brushing over the top of your head. "Yeah, maybe," he murmured softly. "But don't you forget, baby-you're mine. Always.”

You sighed, your heart swelling with a mix of satisfaction and love, a contentment that only he could bring you. The thrill of what you'd just shared lingered, the intensity of it making your body hum as you drifted off in his arms. No matter how many games you played, how much you teased each other, you knew you'd always come back to this-back to him

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multific · 1 month ago

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Soulmate

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Using your powers you save the life of Eddie, however, your powers might have backfired and bound his soul to yours.

Number Seven.

Ven is how Dustin called you when you met them.

You have powers similar to Eleven's.

Your powers included telekinesis, mind reading, and mind control.

You were also being kept in the same facility and growing up with her, you were glad when you escaped.

Trying to help your friends and be there for them every step of the way. You went through a lot, but you were glad you were able to find friends and a father, Hopper. Jim tried his best to take care of you and El.

He was an amazing father.

Years passed but you were never able to escape the Upside Down.

You met Max and many others on the way.

You tried your best to save Billy.

But you failed.

Living with your failure, you couldn't face Max.

And so, you left Hawkins.

But of course, you had to return. You dreamt of a creature.

Vecna.

He called himself but there was something so familiar about him.

Upon your return, you helped the others with Vecna.

Trying to save all of their lives in the process.

They had a great plan, you just needed to help them.

But then, a chill ran down your spine.

"SEVEN! SAVE HIM!" Dustin yelled at you. He was way too far, it must have been his thoughts and desperation reaching you. "EDDIE!" you moved, ran.

You didn't even think you just ran.

You found Eddie surrounded by the bats. Lifting a car from the ground you threw it at the creatures blowing the car up, and making them flee.

You knelt down on the floor.

"I didn't run this time," he said and you could feel the life leaving him. You put your shaking hands on his chest and closed your eyes.

Dustin joined you but you focused on Eddie.

Took you a while, but you saved him.

And you managed to save the life of Eddie Munson.

He opened his eyes and you let the tears fall.

Overcome by emotion you hugged yourself as the two watched with worried eyes.

"She needs help," Dustin said as he came closer to you. "Do you need to be grounded?" he asked and you quickly nodded.

Dustin hugged you and it almost instantly calmed you. His happy memories and thoughts filled your mind.

"Sometimes, when she uses her powers too much, she loses control. By grounding her, one person must help her."

"So you just let her focus on you," Eddie replied as you took a deep breath and thanked Dustin. "You saved me, thank you," Eddie said and you smiled.

However, even if you saved him, something wasn't right.

You felt his emotions more than everyone else's even when he wasn't close to you.

You heard his thoughts even when you weren't focusing on him.

You did something.

You knew you did because of the way he was looking at you.

As if he was a lost puppy left out in the rain.

After everyone returned to Hawkins and both you and El had your moment with Hopper.

You needed some time alone, so you headed to an open field and sat down on a rock.

"What did I do to make him like that? He was dying but I pulled him back... I-I took his pain away." you thought as you looked at your hands.

And then, you felt him. He was standing behind you and he was nervous.

"Uh-The others said I can have the RV. If you want- uh- You can join me." he spoke up and this is when you noticed just how dark it was getting. You knew he wasn't leaving, he was offering you shelter.

"I did something Eddie, something I wasn't meant to." you stood up and looked him in the eyes. Admitting your failure, yet again. "I think somehow I bonded our souls. When I saved you, I saw your memories, I saw how scared you were and I think I did something to help you. I feel your presence and I sense your feelings more than anyone else's. I'm so sorry."

"So, you are saying my feelings for you are... not real?"

"Your feelings are real. I'm just saying I did something that made you feel them."

"But- I liked you even before you saved me." he said and you nearly choked on nothing. "When we stole the RV, or when you helped me hide from Jason. I don't think you made me feel this love. I think we just... love each other?"

How can he say things so casually? His cheeks looked red but his eyes held fire.

"But... Chrissy..."

"I did like her yes. But then you came along and I- I truly don't think your powers caused my feelings for you."

As if a bus hit you, your world was spinning. You even stumbled a little as he rushed to catch you. And this time, you wanted to make sure.

You put your hand on his cheek and looked into his eyes.

It was true.

You saw how he looked at you, what he was thinking even before you stole the RV. When you two were hiding in that damn house.

You let go of his cheek and put your hands up but he was still holding you.

"I really thought I... made you love me somehow."

"You did. It just wasn't the way you thought."

"I don't know what to say."

"Nothing, just let me kiss you, please?" and you did. You let him lean in and kiss you.

But this time, you focused on the now.

You focused on him and his kiss. Not his mind, not his thoughts or memories.

You focused on him.

Soulmates were real, but it wasn't your powers that created them.

He was your soulmate.

Taglist:

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou

@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief

@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

#x reader #fanfiction #x female reader #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fanfiction

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eightstarr · 6 months ago

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what's mine — ellie williams.

summary: the day you left for this assignment, ellie remembers thinking it would be okay— or maybe it was you who said it, your hands over her tense shoulders, her fingers tugging at your shirt, “you’ll be okay.” she goes home and knows it to be true, like words from a god. she’ll be okay and you’ll be back. what’s left to do but count the hours?

warnings: descriptions of violence (not very detailed), suggestive content near the end!

notes: uhhh i love being dramatic and i think it shows here. all i think about is the action of coming home to someone who loves you and how it is as meaningful now as it was a thousand years ago and as it will be in a hundred years but whatever haha sorry about that guys. if you read this i love you btw

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・。.・゜✧・. ────

Being without Ellie is disorienting. The first week feels like walking alone in a dark room, feeling the walls for a light switch, running into sharp corners that stab your sides. You miss her like it's a sickness, less a longing and more a threat to whatever you’re made of.

There's a small community way outside of Jackson offering a trade. Maria makes it sound simple, like everything else. “They know us, it’ll be quick. You pick up the supplies, drop off our part of the deal, and come back.”

It takes 26 days. The exchange is simple but the journey less so, you and three others have to carry home the much needed medical supplies through herds of infected and a heavy storm that slows you down and cuts off your communication for three terrifying nights.

Ellie wanders the house and feels like a stranger, sickly, a sleepless corpse searching for living blood. The light coming through the windows feels too bright and her skin abnormally cold. She knows, or thinks, that if she’s not careful she could get lost in it— merge every wall together until there’s nothing left to see but a stark flatness, an unfamiliar box. The space is not huge. It's not a tall castle or a manor in the countryside or anything fitting to the theatricality of loneliness, but it’s your home. So much of you is in it. Ellie finds herself focusing on a different thing each passing day, clinging to them with a nauseating desperation, a hundred random pieces of you scattered like breadcrumbs to keep her sane. A book with a folded corner somewhere along the first half of the story, your favorite mug next to the sink, an old pair of jeans ripped at the knee on your side of the drawer. Too many things for you not to come back.

“Do you think I'm losing my mind?” she asks, a soft wrinkle between her furrowed brows, her eyes focused on a random spot ahead. “I mean, it’s been two weeks,” she’s trying to sound like it's not as bad as it looks, like she finds any of it funny or interesting instead of plainly horrifying. The sole of her shoes hits the floor in an anxious rhythm, mocking her— tap, tap, tap, tap. “Isn’t that fucked up?”

Dina curses at the lighter until it flickers back to life with a weak orange flame, holding it near the end of the half finished blunt. She inhales and passes it over, breathing out, “You’re not crazy.”

A pause. Ellie lets the comment comfort her for a single second before it flies right through her head, sounding more quiet than usual when she admits, “...I have this feeling like someone took something from me.”

Dina raises her eyebrows, her chuckle cut off by a short cough, smoke itching her throat. “You mean, like… what’s her name?” she squints her eyes and tries to remember.

The name worms around Ellie’s head like it has been for days, bold letters, clear as day. She makes no attempt to let it pass through her lips, self aware and unrelenting at the same time, maybe finding some indefensible satisfaction in the fact that it can be forgotten. Cruel, you'd tease, and Ellie would smirk a lot like she tries not to now.

Dina gives up a second later, “Whatever— the girl that volunteered to go with them before you could. You're blaming her?”

“I guess.”

“Hm. That’s a little…”

“Don’t say crazy—”

“Crazy.”

“Fuck you,” she rolls her eyes. “It’s not like that.”

“So you’re not jealous?”

Ellie scoffs, tongue pressed against the inside of her cheek. Dina argues unlike anyone else. She’s confident, her goal clear and her strategy already lined up before you get a word in, loaded like a gun. But her strongest contender, perhaps the only one, might be Ellie’s simple stubbornness. “I’m concerned. She got picked over me even though I've studied that route a hundred fucking times. I could've done a better job,” she says, steady and tireless like bulletproof glass.

“At getting the supplies or at taking care of your girlfriend?”

“You’re starting to sound like Maria.”

Dina pauses for a short moment before she shrugs. “Maria makes good points.”

Ellie takes one last hit of the blunt and flicks it across the room to die out somewhere on the permanently damp floor. She tries to believe it. No one took you, she thinks, you left dutifully like anyone else in Jackson would've, like Ellie would've. It’s a dangerous trip but a job like any other, the same risk of deadly infection that comes with any of them. She should be used to it by now. Does it not also exist every other day of the year?

Still, she can't remember the last time she didn't see your face for this long. You’ve been dating for a little over three years, living together for half of that— it's a terrifyingly meaningful chunk of your young lives, months and months of seeing you everyday, of falling asleep with her face on the crook of your neck and waking up with your fingers pressing into her waist. You've built a world where things like this don’t happen, where all Ellie can think about as she leaves home is the way you hum in the mornings, soft and sleepy and so fucking cute, when you wake up to her back against your chest and her hair on your face. She thinks about her own laugh, how shy it sounds, how your lips press to her head before she turns around to claim a proper kiss.

But now you’re not here, and she’s too terrified to even utter the words out loud, and there's a hole in her chest where you should be that makes her feel insane everywhere she goes. It's an open wound leaving a hazardous trail of shame and memories, humming in her ears like a boiling kettle, who took what's mine?

Ellie has never considered herself to be the jealous type, but she never was the type to sleep with her back turned to someone this comfortably, either. It’s different with you. It's theatricality, it’s the coldness of that bed at night, it’s your legs tangled with hers like growing roots now disjointed. It’s a thing, breathing and alive, screaming at nothing— I miss you, I miss you, I miss you.

Is that girl you went with hanging from your every word in that way she always does? Is that a shameful thought to have? Ellie wipes it clean in a second and finds it immediately there again, at the front of her mind like a message on a cloudy mirror. She can't think about anything else. Is the storm keeping the two of you awake? Does a part of you find the girl brave for volunteering? Is she turning to look at you and asking, just loud enough, are you asleep? That fall earlier was rough, how are you feeling? Is she looking at your wounds like they matter more than doing a good job? Is your blood, warm and red and yours, on her hands now?

The last of the smoke spills past her lips in a sigh. Ellie pulls her knees closer to her chest and tugs at the loose thread on your ripped jeans.

─────✧･ﾟ: *✧･

There’s a comfortable weight that keeps you under, the loving press of her arm resting over your chest, her thumb brushing your chin. The sun feels warm where it’s draped across Ellie’s back, white tank top wrinkled slightly up her waist.

She watches you until you let out a little sigh, squint one eye open and then slowly the next, a smile stretching your lips as soon as your sight focuses on her. She looks beautiful. She looks just like she did before you left, your girl.

It’s weird— you’ve showered, scrubbed your hands clean and raw, changed clothes. And still you feel like you’ve brought in something dirty, like it’ll be stuck on you for a while, the grime, the guns, the storm. Your muddy shoes must still be sitting by the front door. Something in your head screams that you should get rid of them, burn them like an evidence of guilt. Do you look anything like you did before you left? You feel like a worn version of yourself, sticky and darkened. It’s a ridiculous worry to have, but the thought comes hand in hand with embarrassment and you can feel it crawling up your neck. You cover your face with your hands and groan tiredly, shy.

Ellie laughs, warm like musk, salve on a wound.

"Are you watching me sleep?" you mutter, voice ridden with exhaustion and joy all at once. The thing, love, obsession, both— breathes along with you. "Freak."

"Yeah, I was,” she shifts to sit on your lap, one knee on either side of you, spilling her confession easily. Ellie leans over to push your hands away from your face and press her lips to yours, passionate but short lived, still softly brushing against each other when she says, "I missed this face."

You chuckle, eyes tracing over her freckled cheeks, hands squeezing her thighs, feeling strangely like you’re being washed clean. “I missed you.”

Ellie closes her eyes and rests her forehead against yours, her fingers caressing your cheeks, looking at you again when her thumb brushes against the ridge of a scar. It’s a warped line that almost follows the shape of your cheekbone, from your hairline to somewhere near the corner of your lips. She'd seen it last night, nauseous with worry and relief to have you back, her vision clouded. The morning reveals it in a different, heartbreaking light. It’s okay, you’d said during the night, your hands on either side of her face much like hers are on you now, didn't even need stitches. Ellie tries to let that sink in, make the guilt feel any better. But it can't. Maybe you’d been saved the prick of a needle, but she knows it still hurt, she knows it bled and stung. It feels like a betrayal. If I can't save you the pain, she thinks, I owe you the witnessing, the chance to clean its wry edges, pat it dry. "How'd you get this one?" she asks, as softly as she can.

You’d been prepared for the question but not the devastation in her eyes. It falls over you like a ton of bricks, her love making your chest ache and sinking you back into the memory.

There was an empty house, or what looked like one. Pieces of broken glass scattered over the rotting wood of an old, wobbly table. A man's hand placed forcefully on your head. The side of your face rammed into the table with a thud when he pushed you down, the faint pain of something slicing into your cheek made worse by your struggle to get free. A kick and he stumbled back. A slice of your knife and he fell dead. You don't think the fact will do much to comfort Ellie. So, in hopes of sparing her, you hum and shake your head. "Come here," you say, or beg, a hand on the back of her neck like fond guidance. "Let me kiss your pretty face."

She feels soft like satin on your lips, tastes like honey and black tea. Ellie kisses like she argues, experienced and unruly all at once, with a point to make— I need you and I want you to know it. Her tongue slips past your parted lips and brings a muffled sound from your throat that almost makes her pull slightly away, if it weren't for the feeling of your fingers tightening on her neck to have her closer. A faint thought crosses Ellie’s mind, a feeling like pity for the person she was before you, whoever that was, an old self who couldn't know what it's like to be devoured so caringly.

She brushes her nose against yours and you let out a sigh that sounds painfully like a prayer, her short hair a dark veil over your eyes when she turns her head to press kisses on your cheek. "You can't leave me like that again," she breathes out.

You swallow her words, a confused wrinkle between your eyebrows. “Ellie—”

A kiss cuts you off. You slide your hands up her thighs to her waist, a surprised hum vibrating against her lips when she wraps her fingers around your wrists and squeezes, as if to keep them there. She leans back and stares into you, and for the first time since you’ve known Ellie, you can't tell if she's commanding you or begging. “I won’t let you.”

It’s a gesture. It goes beyond the reality of your lives, the fact that any day either one of you could be made to leave again, that any day either one of you could die. It means I missed you. It means I need it to be me who looks after you. It means I love you.

Your stomach flutters, hungry with an urgent craving. And like you have every day since you’ve known Ellie, you find yourself unable to deny her love or the indulging promise of a different world— but maybe those mean the same thing. "I'm not leaving you," you say, breathless, and it might as well be true.

Ellie makes a sound in response that feels painfully close to a moan, a soft mmhm that clouds your head of anything that may or may not exist outside of this room. The tip of her nose brushes against your neck and then continues its way down, her fingers sneaking inside your shirt, pulling up the fabric and pressing kisses over the skin that’s revealed. "I love you," she says, almost near the band of your underwear, her blushed lips parted. You feel her breath against the burning fire in your lower stomach, reaching out to cradle her cheek against your hand. She feels hot, flushed pink under her freckles, and you’re not sure if she hears you say I love you, Ellie as much as she watches you mouth the words. She presses her face further into your hand, wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue, begging as if she’d ever have to, “Baby, I need— please.”

You don't hear yourself say yes, but the look in her eyes says you must have.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams fic #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams smut

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allthelovenina · 7 months ago

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Gone girl

Give this man a break.

Summary: you basically triggered his abandonment issues

Warning: MDNI, smut, not sfw.

Sensual, smut, slow burn(I guess? I mean I tried so-)

English is not my first language, I apologize in advance for the grammatical and dictation mistakes.

Two whole months.

No, two months and 4 days to be exact. That's how many days you were gone. You left your resignation on Erwin's desk and left the scouts with no farewell. No one knew where you went to and no one was really concerned. After all, it wasn't unusual for scouts to quit.

No one except for Levi. At first, he was in denial, telling Erwin that he must look for you, that you wouldn't leave just like that and something was oddly off, what if someone forced you out? What if someone kidnapped you? The first few days were indescribable. He felt helpless, desperate and worried. Erwin would talk to him, tell him there was no reason for anyone to kidnap or threaten you, also Hange had seen you leave with your stuff packed in a suitcase in the middle of the night and you told them that you were leaving for a quiet life. He was heartbroken. You left without saying a word to him. He felt stupid for thinking he was special. He felt played and betrayed.

On one hand, he was relieved that you wouldn't be putting your life in danger anymore, that you were more likely to live a long and happy life. But on the other hand, why didn't you tell him? Wasn't he worthy of a proper farewell? Why wouldn't you at least write to him? He didn't admit it, but ever since you had left, he would check his mailbox every day. Desperately looking forward to a letter from you. On his days off, he would leave the HQ to the city, wishing to see you somewhere on a random street. How helpless and pathetic he felt, wandering around the crowded city all day long until his legs gave up. Yep, the legs that belonged to humanity's strongest soldier, the very legs that would be searching countless hours outside the walls would give up after almost 18 hours of walking and carrying the weight of this man's concern and despair. He felt like he lost his safe spot once again, his home, his lover.

He just needed to see you doing fine, that was all. He just wanted to make sure you were safe and sound. He swore to himself he wouldn't be mad or bitter if he saw you in a good state of health, he wouldn't yell and blame you for leaving him with no words. All because he couldn't help but feel like you were in danger.

He never gave up on searching for you but he didn't seem as concerned from outside after a while. To everyone, he was like his usual self again. However, he would be getting even less sleep, lose his temper even faster and barely eat.

One night he had the documents signed, read and summarised. Ready to be on Erwin's desk. He left his office for Erwin's only to find you there, in the corridor. His eyes were wide open in shock for a second and then his uninterested expression came back as he let out a loud sigh. "What the hell are you doing here?"

You remained speechless. You didn't really expect him to be this grumpy and oh if you only knew, he was controling himself. Otherwise you'd know "grumpy".

"I...I'm back."

"Changing your mind so easily is not like you." He was angry...furious yet so sad and also happy all at the same time. You left, you hurt him, made him feel like a fool and there you were standing in front of him looking prettier than ever, making him feel the butterflies in his stomach. You made him furious.

He wanted to cry and ask you why did you do that and selfishly beg you not to leave again, even for a quite less dangerous life. You made him sad.

But you were back! In one piece, you weren't dead and didn't seem to be injured(in a fatal serious way at least), he felt relieved. Your mere presence made him happy.

"I...wasn't really gone, Levi. I was sent to wall Sina for a secret mission. In order to steal some documents from the MP and gain information about their next move. I'm sorry I didn't tell you but that was Erwin's wish."

Betrayal after betrayal. How dare you all? How dares Erwin to take away what was his and convince him she was the unfaithful one? He was just about to storm into Erwin's office and give that bastard a lesson when he felt your arms around his waist and your face buried in his neck.

"I missed you..." you mumbled and it crashed his soul because he could hear in your voice how broken you were. "It was a long nightmare...and you weren't there...I'm so sorry I couldn't tell you about the mission."

Your grip on his body tightened, he could feel your tears moistening his neck leaving it warm and wet. All of that anger gave its place to sympathy.

"I...was really worried. I never disobeyed his orders why would he do this to me?" Levi asked, almost whispering.

"He thought...it would be better for my cover if you were unaware, you know. "

"That's stupid. What about Hange? Did they know?"

"No...they didn't."

You remained quiet in his arms for a while with his hands brushed against your hair. "I missed you too...I was worried sick but ...you're back to me..."

Back to me, back in my arms. My love, my angel, pretty girl. I love you so much.

His words in his mind sounded so different from what he actually said. "You idiot. Don't ever do that again." He pulls you out of his arms to cup your soft face with his calloused rough hands. Giving you the luxury of his soft glare. "Let's go to my room. Erwin can wait for his documents after fucking me up like this. "

It didn't take long for him to take you to his room, pin you down on the bed and devour your soft lips. He couldn't get enough, forcing his tongue into your mouth as his hands travelled from your hair to your face and then went lower on your delicate neck. Hell, only if you and him met under different circumstances, you'd make the perfect wife for him with your grace and inner beauty. How much he wished for a quiet life with you in the countryside, but that was no option right now. At this moment the most he could get from you was this. Sticking his tongue basically in your throat, swirling around yours while gripping your hip with one hand your breasts with the other. He needed to breathe, but he could still hold on. He wanted to waste no second of having you. (even on catching his breath)

Until he felt your hands on his chest, pushing him away to catch breath, you were a panting mess. Your hair all out of place, covered in sweat and blush all over your face. Oh, how much he missed seeing you like this.

He started unbuttoning your shirt, exposing your body but didn't take it off. He moaned only at the sight of it and had his lips on your clothed nipples. The friction and the dampness from his saliva gave you a delicious tease. You deserved this; be teased. A merciful punishment from Captain Levi, for putting him through hell and back. Yes, you had no control over it, but in a way, you did.

He moved back on your neck, making sure your neck would be covered in hickeys that looked like a beautiful amethyst necklace around your neck.

"L...let me kiss your neck too."

"No. You don't get to touch me unless I say so."

How cruel of him. "B...but I missed you, let me show y...you baby. How much I m...missed you."

You had a silver tongue that almost got Levi. Almost. But he stood on his ground. "Bad girls don't get their wishes met."

You moaned in desperation but knew better than to talk back. He was impatient and didn't even waste time undoing your bra (which he always had difficulty with) instead he ripped it off. You were surprised by his action, never had seen him like this. He had always been so...reserved but now he just tore the strap of your bra and invaded your breasts. Spitting on them and smearing them on your breasts, pinching your nipples until you begged him to move on to the actual business, only to get a hard smack on them. He then leaned on you and bit them red and hot. The bite marks were gonna last a day or two on your skin. His mouth ran all over your upper body from up to down until it reached your skirt. He smirked. Pulling the waistband down with his teeth halfway, he got up to pull the rest with his hands and get the full view of you from above.

You were so pretty, all flushed and helpless under him, naked. He could still torture himself a little more by making you wait longer.

"Did you touch yourself when you were gone?"

The embarrassment on your face was visible, you hid your face behind your forearms as you nodded. "Speak! Cat ate your tongue?"

"I did." He grabbed your wrists and pinned them on each side of your head. "Look at me when I talk to you, dove. Now answer me again. I'm running out of patience and I might as well leave you like this."

"N...no, please...that's right, I touched myself."

He guided one of your hands to your pussy. "Do it again. Show me how you would do it and tell me every naughty idea in that pretty head of yours."

You wanted to protest, to tell him you had enough of your fingers in the past two months, what you needed was him, but he had already threatened you to leave and your mind was too filled up with lust to think properly so you obeyed him.

Pushing one finger in, your mouth was open in an O shape. Digging in deeper and deeper. "I...would always th...think about y...you."

"Elaborate."

"I ...think about your handsome face...between my thighs and...your red lips on...my clit."

"Is that all you wish for?"

"N...no...I craved for your cock ...but the reality hit me every time that my fingers were not enough...I missed your fingers and cock in me, I missed the way your tongue flicks in me ...please..."

"Add another finger, now."

You swallowed and obeyed, adding another finger and searching for that spot, speeding up while having your eyes locked into his. He knew you found it when you inhaled sharply and moaned.

"Am I allowed to?" You whispered. "Cum all over your fingers. Make a mess." He leaned and kissed your forehead as you were getting yourself off. Then moved on to your ears and whispered "Beg for me." Then he tugged your earlope with his teeth.

"Please! Levi, I want you. Nothing is e...enough compared to you! Please I beg you!"

As you were begging, he noticed how your knees started to shiver, implying you were close. He let out a cruel, evil and short laugh as he grabbed your wrist and pulled your fingers out. You felt empty all of a sudden after being so close.

You looked so confused which he found out so cute. "B..but you said I was allowed."

"And you had promised to never leave me yet you left me for 2 fucking months! Do you think I'm that kind to let you have it all so easily now? Oh princess, it's a punishment if you haven't noticed already. Now get on all fours."

The unbuttoned shirt, though exposed your body and gave Levi as easy access, was still on. You had no intention of taking it off completely but once you did as he had said, you felt his hands were just about to tug up the shirt.

"N...no...I want the shirt on, please."

Levi was confused, it wasn't as if there was something underneath the cloth he hadn't seen already, he loved this position cause he could run his fingertips on your spine and make you shiver and moan.

So of course, curiosity and selfishness got the best of him and despite your request, he tugged it up anyway only to see several new scars on your back. They weren't deep but they implied you had been attacked during the mission. His heart sank. You looked so vulnerable and he just wanted to take good care of you, make you feel good and safe in his arms once again. Who did this? Who fucking dared to do this? When did this happen? Probably one of those nights that Levi was awake, thinking to himself how cruel you were for leaving him like that. How could he judge you and doubt you so easily? He felt like a piece of garbage.

"Is it that bad?" Your voice brought him back to the room from his thoughts. You were looking at him with half of your face pinned on the mattress. "It's not half bad. I was just thinking how to kill the bastard who did this to you."

"Hmm...so sexy when you talk about killing people while we're being intimate. Don't worry they're dead already."

He ran his finger on the old scars. Most of them were small but there was a huge one on your left shoulder blade which was continued to your waist on the right side.

As he was caressing the scar, he asked "Why you wanted to hide them?"

"They are not the prettiest accessories on me and also, didn't wanna concern you."

He frowned. How could you say that? You were soldiers, scars weren't uncommon. He had more than a few on himself which you found sexy. But you didn't see them that way for yourself.

"I actually think they're matching to mine." Levi said.

He leaned on your back, leaving wet kisses on every single one of them. You shivered and he smirked in satisfaction.

His attitude slightly changed, he just wanted to take care of you. Clearly, you'd had it rough already.

His cock was killing him, it's been hard from the start of the session yet he managed to endure it. As you were fully naked in front of him with your shirt gone, he was fully clothed. He unbuttoned his shirt in no time and unzipped his pants, pulling them down with the underwear and taking them all off. He grabbed his cock, swirling the tip around your already wet entrance. You moaned loudly "Don't tease me anymore!" He could hear the pouting in your voice. No smile appeared on his lips but his eyes softened.

His tip, already wet by precum, made its way through your hole. With no rush and slowly, he was halfway in. You were sucking him in so willingly it was as if your body was telling him how much you missed his touch.

He pushed a little further and was now fully in you, filling you up nicely. Your delightful moans sounded like angels singing to his ears. Oh how much he missed you.

"Y...you can move, Levi."

He grabbed you gently by the throat, adding no pressure. Just pulling you closer to himself until your scarred back met his chiselled chest. Once he had your head backed on his shoulder, he left no time to start kissing it so gently. Eventually, he started to move inside you back and forth.

"Ngh...I missed you, Levi."

His hands were on your nipples now, pinching and playing with them. He whispered in your ear "You have no idea how much I wanted you back by my side."

His arms wrapped around your shoulders as he paced up his movement in you. He bit back his moans just to hear yours as he was hitting that spot in you. Your mouth hung open while you were seeing the stars and moaned uncontrollably. As much as he loved hearing them, you were getting louder and louder so he pushed to fingers into your mouth. "Keep it...down...fuck."

Once again, your knees were shivering, if Levi didn't have a grip on you, you'd fall on the bed. Yet, you ran your hand through his hair at the back of yours, pulling it a little. "You fucking tease."

You were both close, Levi took his fingers out of your mouth and started massaging your clit with them. His nubs rubbed against your needy clit which had been begging for attention. He started drawing ghostly circles and little by little, his moves became faster and rougher. You were almost there.

"L...Levi! I'm...close..please..."

"Cum for me baby. I mean it this time."

In less than a second, you made a mess on his cock. He fucked you through your orgasm. Wanted to fill you up so badly. His cock was twitching in you, he almost couldn't believe he was feeling your hot gummy walls around himself again, shaping your insides like his cock.

His grip on you tightened and you knew by then he was going to fill you up in no time. He let out a loud, sexy moan while he shot his seeds in you. You felt so warm inside, he didn't pull out until he fully emptied whatever he had in you and softened.

You were both panting. He slowly pulled out and you felt the cum dripping down your thigh. Your skin was still red and burning from his thrusts. He laid down naked on the bed waiting for you to lay next to him.

"Where are the papertowles? Your blanket it gonna get ruined."

He rolled his eyes at you, the clean freak couldn't care less at this moment he just wanted his lover next to him. He grabbed you by the shoulder and pushed you on the pillow next to him. "I have to wash them anyway." He said.

His eyes were locked to yours once again. Tucking your hair behind your ear which was all red now. He grabbed your hand and held it tightly, brought it close to his lips and left a few kissed on it as he was watching you.

"Don't ever do that shit again."

You smiled, you didn't say anything. It hurt to see him like this, you knew how much you hurt him by leaving without telling him but you were unaware of this. You had no idea he would be this devastated. Perhaps you underestimated his love which made you feel so bad about yourself. Still, you knew you would do this again if Erwin commanded so. You knew there was no place left for emotional bonds in the army yet you fell for Levi. This is the cost of following your heart, to get hurt willingly only to follow orders.

But screw Erwin and screw humanity at this moment you just wanted to have Levi's head on your chest again.

You pulled him close, he rested his head on your chest as you wished as you nuzzled his head. He could probably get some proper sleep in this state after a very long time. He felt his eyelids getting heavy and before he knew it, he was snorting in your arms.

What a day to be alive.

#levi ackerman #levi aot #captain levi #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x y/n #levi #aot #attack on titan #levi ackerman x y/n smut #levi x y/n

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 11 months ago

Note

hi there, could I get poppy playtime (if that is to many characters then just catnap and dogday are fine) with a reader that has pica (if you don't know what that is it is where a person can tend to eat or bite on things not edible, like paper, erasers, eca)

I can do a few!

.....

Huggy (saved/rescued) + Poppy

While in his "idle mode" on the podium, he sees you munching on a piece of paper like lettuce and then plush stuffing like it's cotton candy.

And then you just snatch the key from him and move onto the next puzzle, and he goes "???????"

Why did you eat those things? Did they somehow sustain your hunger?

Huggy only gets to learn more after you save him from falling (and tame him with an actual edible snack you brought along), taking a breather after freeing Poppy from her box.

When he grabs one a random paper, you assume he wants to draw something as a way to communicate...until he starts chowing it down.

In his mind, humans DO eat paper and he's been starving and cannibalizing toys (and trying to eat you) for nothing...

But then he spits it out, picking shredded bits out of his teeth, before glaring at you as if you told him to eat that.

You're a little scared and confused until Poppy explains that he was only trying to mimic what you do, and she asks why you eat such random little things.

Eventually you explain to the pair of your condition called "pica".

You've had it most of your life, with an official diagnosis to boot, but it never really hurt your digestive tract.

Over the years you've cut the habit, although being stuck in this factory meant you had to find other sources of food...even those not even considered food at all.

Some of your coworkers knew about it, and their only complaint was the occasional eraser going missing thanks to you (which you deny stealing...most of the time).

"I always joke about having a cast-iron stomach," you tell the toys. "Food is the least of my......"

But you pause and look at Huggy, realizing he might be offended by you shrugging off food as negligible to your survival.

No matter what, though, it's not gonna stop him from trying different non-food items and seeing what tastes good.

He might've eaten pieces of clothing and plush fabric/stuffing over the years, albeit none of it was delicious by itself.

Dogday

"They want nothing more than to crawl beneath your skin and eat away at you bit by little bit--fill what feels empty inside themselves."

"Jesus, that sounds horrific." You say as you crunch on a piece of chalk (one of several that you got from the schoolhouse) nonchalantly.

Dogday takes immediate notice and is rather concerned. He knows the chalk and crayons here are made to be non-toxic, but insists they're not safe for human consumption.

He fears it's gonna kill you and begs you to stop, saying you needed to live.

Before you could fully explain your condition, the mini-critters are closing in, so you free him and haul ass out of the playhouse of horrors.

After making it somewhere safe where you could patch him up, he presses you on why you continue to eat all these foreign objects.

But he jumps to the conclusion that you got desperate after running out of food, going mad from hunger like the other toys did...

He recalls Picky Piggy going through something similar, and he gets a bad flashback to the Hour of Joy when he had to stop her from eating Crafty's paint....and the corpse of a Smiling Critter -

"Dogday? Hey stay with me..it's okay. I'm here, I'm here.." You console him, calming him down from his panic attack. "I'm not going crazy, alright? I just have this small condition called pica."

"...p-pica? Oh. I thought...kids grow outta that.." He mutters, finding familiarity with that term.

He's had his fair share of toddlers putting things in their mouth that could be choking hazards.

You shake your head, explaining that it stuck with you, but it doesn't cause your stomach any pain as long as you're careful about what you eat.

Dogday's relieved you're not losing it.

Even so, though, he's gonna feel nervous if he catches you eating another piece of chalk.

But it's just his instincts as a child caretaker, so you couldn't blame him.

Catnap

He hangs out in the shadows for the most part, watching your every move...and he does pick up on your strange habit of eating non-food objects.

It's something orphaned toddlers in the playhouse often did, and he'd see the other Smiling Critters hurry to take the items away from them before any emergencies happened.

But those memories mean nothing to him.

All he's doing is waiting for you to eat the wrong thing and keel over.

Unfortunately for him, you just keep trudging on, munching on a crayon like it's normal before throwing your gas mask back on.

He doesn't know how you manage to stomach so many things, and honestly is kinda envious.

Why can't he and the others sustain their hunger like you did?

It does make for some rather..amusing situations, though. Such as when you're in the smoke factory and use the elevator to escape him.

You just stand there as the doors close, eating some chalk and crunching it loudly without breaking eye contact with Catnap's horrific eldritch form.

Obviously, you're stress-eating at that point, but he doesn't have to know.

Miss Delight

The schoolhouse was like a cafeteria for someone with pica, aka you.

While looking for generators, you just pick up whatever you find: erasers, chalk, crayons, etc. and start biting them, or even chewing and swallowing them.

It only succeeds in angering Miss Delight right away, as she sees you doing all of this and snaps at how "childish" you are for eating things you shouldn't.

But you when shout back that you have pica, the PA system suddenly goes quiet.

Like Dogday and Catnap, that definitely triggered some memories for her, which she dwells on for a while before realizing you were still in the school..

And seeing you eating stuff makes her howling stomach grow louder.

"Barb" says you're mocking her own hunger, especially since she notices you gathering the notes she left around the place, and insists on killing you.

When you finally do encounter her, she is visibly disturbed by you crunching on a piece of chalk and throwing it to the ground to distract her, buying you time to break eye contact and flee.

She calls you "crazy", but you're not the one chasing her with a weapon made of a ruler and colored pencils.

#clanask #poppy playtime x reader #ppt x reader #huggy wuggy #dogday #catnap #miss delight #platonic #headcanons #pica

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gor3-hound · 8 months ago

Text

resident evil works (dark content)

☆ can't fight this feeling ▪︎ part one ▪︎ part two

ft. incel stepbrother!leon x reader

tw: stepcest, non-con/dub-con, somno

He'd been rejected more times than he could count, leaving him a little bitter. He's in his twenties, and he hadn't even had his first kiss. It was fine… totally fine. He wasn't mad about it at all. Women just didn't understand how nice he was. He'd treat his girlfriend so good if a girl would just give him a chance! He's started to give up on his exploits, coming to terms with the fact he'd probably just die a virgin. That is, until he's blessed with a miracle. Must be divine intervention, he can't believe he got this lucky. His dad ends up telling him he's getting married to the woman he's been seeing for a while, and drops the fact that she has a daughter that's just a few years younger.

☆ are you lonely?

ft. real dad!leon x reader

tw: incest

His gaze finds you again before long. His eyes flick over your form, hovering on your curves for a moment before he frowns. Jesus. Since when did he look at his daughter like that? Since when did his daughter look like that? Must of been a while, but he's only really noticing it now He's only been gone for a week, but it feels like a lifetime. You're always so happy to see him, always acting so domestic. You cook for him, clean for him and cuddle up to him after he's had a particularly tough day. You'd make a good wife for someone one day.

☆ sweet creature

ft. wolf!leon x bunny!reader

tw: slight dub-con, predator/prey dynamics

“If you listen to me, I'll be gentle.” He coos, licking a stripe up your cheek, groaning at the salty taste of your tears. “If you don't… well, I'll sink my teeth into the back of that pretty neck of yours and take what I want.” He growls, the expression on his face darkening. “We don't want that, do we?”

☆ meant to be yours

ft. rookie!leon x obsessive!reader

tw: self-mutilation, cannibalism

“Did you need anything else today? Or is that all?” You ask politely, your hands idly brushing the edge of the counter - desperate for something, anything to ground you as you wait for his response. The anticipation was enough to drive you mad with desire, but you had to stay composed. If only Leon could understand how much you truly wanted him. How much you needed him to see you, to really see you, not just look at you. What you'd do for him to touch you. Consume you. Become one with you.

☆ i apologise if you feel something

ft. leon kennedy x reader

tw: non-con, domestic abuse

“Cute. Real fucking cute.” He hisses, grabbing your jaw roughly so you're facing him. He seems to get even angrier when he sees how terrified you look. “Aww… baby. You're scared?” He coos, a mocking pout making its way to his lips. “You should be grateful. I'm keeping you safe. You have no right to be scared. If you knew what I've seen, what I've been through-”

☆ don't hold your breath (nobody's home)

ft. uncle!leon x niece!reader

tw: incest, non-con

You really need to stop with those tits. He's gonna lose it if they brush his arm one more time. He's not sure what it is about you, particularly, that has him acting like a teenage virgin again, but his self-control is wavering by the second. He hasn't paid a single second of attention to the movie he was meant to be watching to keep his mind off of you. Fuck this. He takes a swig of whiskey that drains half the liquid in his cup in one gulp. Liquid courage and all that. Maybe he'd drunk a little too much while he was here, ‘cause his brain clearly isn't working right. Not when he's pinning you to the couch, kissing your neck despite your protests.

☆ teacher's pet

ft. professor!leon x student!reader

tw: power imbalance, dub-con

He's sick of it. He's sick of you. He retired and took on teaching college kids in the hopes he'd finally have some time to relax, but you seemed to enjoy making his life a living hell. He'd had enough of it. As you're packing up once he dismisses the class, he makes his way to your desk, his footsteps echoing across the lecture hall. “Not you, miss. I need to have a word with you. Please come to my desk once you're packed up.” He tells you, tapping two fingers against your desk as he leans in to speak before he's returning to sit at the desk at the front of the hall.

☆ over again

ft. kidnapper!leon x reader

tw: forced ddlg, heavy dub-con

You go limp when he touches you. Docile. You let him do what he wants to you, just like a good girl should. Back-talking daddy is a big no-no. He wrote that in big writing on the rule list that's pinned to the fridge. Escape didn't use to seem impossible, yet now the thought never even crossed your mind. You'd tried, but he kept a tight lock on you. You wouldn't be surprised to find out one of the many injections he gave you when you were unruly had a tracker in. He always seemed to know exactly where you were.

☆ cry for absolution

ft. priest!leon x reader

tw: non-con

”Please,” he whispers, voice cracking as he gazes at you fully, your face slowly coming into focus. What did he do to deserve this? He was a good man, wasn’t he? He’d tried his best to help the less fortunate, to be kind to everyone he spoke with. Had he committed some sin without realising it? Some blight against God that meant he deserved this? "Please, I don’t want this. You’re misguided, that's all. I can help you. You don’t have to do this.”

As always, his protests fall on deaf ears. He feels the steady stream of tears running down his face, brows pinching together as you back him up into the confessional. His chest continues to grow tighter and tighter until his lungs constrict painfully with each breath. The air gets caught in his throat and makes him choke, his brain shutting down as he just lets you free him from his vestments and tug down his trousers. He's glad to be rid of the collar, at the very least. It feels less like God was bearing down on his throat to drag him to Hell for letting this happen.

#masterlist #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #dead dove do not eat #tw dark content

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polarisjisung · 4 months ago

Text

LOVE ON THE COURT | 16 LOVERBOY #1 & #2

SYNOPSIS | every college student has their struggles, but raising her younger brother has Y/N top of the list, struggling her way through college whilst balancing her academics and basketball captaincy is difficult no doubt and with Jaemin, her ex best friend and captain of the guys basketball team, and his growing one sided hatred towards her, it doesn't seem to be getting any easier

WARNINGS | sexual innuendos, swearing, mentions of sleepwalking

NOTES | written cut ahead!! followed by more smau slides :) jaemin redemption arc is about to be in full swing but trust that does not mean sunshine lollipops and rainbows for our girly y/n also I'm actually a sucker for dystopian movies, like the maze runner trilogy??? 🙏🙏🙏🙏 i feel like I've watched every dystopian movie out there but if anyone has any recs send them throughhh or just to geek over the movies then my inbox is open 😭‼️

Minjun was nothing short of everything to y/n.

When she woke up to find him gone, her front door ajar, she felt the room close in on her. Her heart raced like a runaway train and panic gripped her chest. In no less than a few seconds, beads of sweat formed over her forehead, her breaths shallow and rapid.

She had rushed out of the apartment in a frenzy, calling out his name like her life depended on it. Constricted for air, her body ran on autopilot, down the dimly lit hallway and then down the stairs to search each floor the same way she had searched her own. To no avail. With each step her stomach churned further, sinking, overwhelming. The feeling of nausea ran deeper, stronger, her heartbeat beginning to sound in her ears. Loud and so painfully unforgiving.

She couldn't lose him. Not now, not like this.

Every noise seemed amplified, every shadow morphed into a lurking threat. She felt trapped in a whirlwind of far too many emotions she couldn't recognise. Her mind had become a storm of what-ifs and worst-case scenarios. Time seemed to slow down as her panic escalated, consuming her every thought and sense.

Where could he be?

Useless, she felt so utterly useless. She had raced a thousand times, millions of laps of the track during practise and yet when it really mattered, she couldn't find her feet moving fast enough, she couldn't run with the same speed no matter how hard she urged herself to. Her life was on the line, her everything, and her attenpts seemed futile as she raced up the stairs again, across each floor and down again, over and over. How could she have been so careless?

Her pants grew in their depth, the lack of oxygen getting to her brain and causing her vision to blurr— mixed with the tears that overcame her vision, y/n was struggling to keep going.

She couldn't breathe.

Her legs threatened to give way beneath her and yet the determination that coursed through her veins wouldn't relent.

There was no way she would give up without finding him. She wouldn't be able to live with herself. Her motivation, her happiness, her reminder to keep going and keep trying, Minjun had been every single one of those things and more, her family, her best friend, so utterly irreplaceable that she already felt the hole within her heart widening.

Circles. She felt like she was running in circles, searching the same corners of the same floors she had already looked over a hundred times, desperation evident in her frantic movements, worry painting her features.

It had been 20 minutes and she hadn't found him, not a single sign of him— she'd lost him. She was so sure. He was gone and it was all her fault.

Y/n had given up on far too many things in life, but if there was one thing she knew she couldn't give up on, it was him. Minjun was her purpose, in every meaning of the word. She could give up on herself, but she could never give up on him.

She forced herself to think, though her thoughts had become slow, foggy as she repeated the words in her head, think y/n think.

Where could he have possibly gone?

When she finally arrived on the 7th floor again, ready to search her apartment, considering the small chance he may have returned, y/n felt her heart drop. The feeling of inadequacy overcame her being— unable to stand her body found the floor.

And the feeling of relief, though present was so agonisingly fleeting that she couldn't push herself any further.

There he was, sleeping peacefully in Jay's arms, safe and sound. The Park let his eyes land on y/n, sleepy gaze softening at her panicked state. desperately wanting to ask if she was okay but not knowing how to.

He was barely conscious himself, struggling to make sense of the situation in front of him. All he knew was that he'd found Minjun banging against his door no less than a few seconds ago. The traces of slumber were still visible in his squinted eyes and messy hair.

He couldnt find himself to care, not when she was like this.

"Y/n what hapenned?" his voice was hoarse, but soothing, "are you okay?"

The words rested at the tip of her tongue but she couldn't bring herself to speak, shaking her head. She took ragged breaths and gasps for air, a broken eyed stare on the younger boy, her hand clasped across her mouth for the fear of waking him.

Jay found himself conflicted, at an inner battle with himself, not wanting to leave the girl in this state for even a second, but not wanting to wake the sleeping boy in his arms either.

"He sleepwalks" was all she could breathe out, her voice cracking sharply. How he had made it out of the front door in the first place, she had no idea. It had never been this bad, but she knew it was no excuse. If only she had been more careful, none of this would have ever hapenned.

Jay's mouth fell open, finally piecing together the information as he crouched down beside her, cradling her head in his free arm, rested against his chest

Her tears flowed so incessantly, pained and burning against her cheeks, the bitter feeling of guilt caught in her throat, heavy. Shoulder slumped as her body rested against the railings of the staircase behind her, her soft cries echoing throughout the empty space, loud enough for the door opposite to swing open to reveal a concerned, but equally as confused jaemin.

"I've got her" jaemin said, immediately letting his arms wrap around her, rubbing small circles against the small of her back, her tears soaking through his shirt. And though hesitant, Jay nodded, earning a puzzled look from jaemin when he stepped into y/n's apartment to tuck minjun back into bed.

But that was the least of jaemin's worries when y/n, the girl he had always seen so strong, unbreakable in fact, now shook in his hold, suddenly seeming so fragile.

"It's okay peach, I've got you, let it all out"

Something about his voice, his presence, something about that moment washed over her like a gentle wave, soothing the knots of worry that had twisted tight within her. And though nothing could negate the pain, the disappointment and the thoughts of self doubt playing in her mind like a broken record, his hold had offered her worlds of comfort. Even if for a second, y/n felt the weight lift off her shoulders and her racing heartbeat began to settle.

prev | masterlist | next

TAGLIST (open): @jenobubbles @justalildumpling @nanawrlds @222brainrot @sungookie @pepperedthot @dinonuguaegi @haechansbbg @90s-belladonna @bath1lda @jeongintwt @daegalfangirl @ahnneyong @jammingjaem @paper-boats-rose @iraa567 @errrrrat @kyusqult @suzayaaa @jising-jisang-jisung @soonyoonswoo @nctrawberries @wonbin-truther @sunghoonsgfreal @lotties-readings @onlyhyunjin @swee7dream @girlz4jaem @beomgyusonlywife @nanaxwi @nosungluv @tommina @sinisxtea @20sdiary @otblous @p-d1ddy @lostinneocity @soobs-things @odxrilove @buns-inhiding @busy-daydreaming02 @starfilledgaze @papichulomacy @grassbutneo @iwilleatyourgod @jeeluv @mystverse @meowtella

#jaemin #jaemin smau #nct jaemin smau #jaemin social au #jaemin social media au #nct smau #nct dream smau #nct jaemin #nct dream

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love-belle · 2 years ago

Text

paper rings !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which she would say yes, even with paper rings.

for when you're certain that they're your person. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au irl // lewis hamilton x fem!reader

warnings - language

author's note - one of the cutest things i have ever written, loved this request!! i hope you like it, i love you, thank you for reading <3

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by lewishamilton, yourbestfriend, lilymhe and 729,926 others

yourusername best believe i'm still bejeweled

7,718 comments

username MOTHER IS MOTHERING

username just one chance pls 🙏

username im so norma abt her hahahaha!! SO normal abt losing my wife to a man that goes vroom vroom in circles!!

lewishamilton the most beautiful ❤️

-> yourusername thank u baby ❤️

lewishamilton can't believe how lucky i am

-> yourusername that's all me

-> username i NEED what these bitches have

username she's not wearing her engagement ring question mark

lilymhe girlfriend 💌

-> yourusername girlfriend 💌

username the ring ⁉️⁉️⁉️

username she ate so hard they named the restaurant after her

username she's not wearing her ring ://

≡;- ꒰ °real life ꒱

"hey, baby."

"hey," lewis mumbled, not sparing y/n a single glance as he continued to watch a random episode of modern family.

"how was your night?" y/n continued to make conversation with him, removing her high heels and discarding her handbag. she walked towards where he was at and kissed the top of his head before petting roscoe a few times. "sorry, there was traffic and then i had to drop aaliyah at her boyfriend's place cause she got too drunk to drive."

"'s okay," was all lewis said, making y/n frown as she turned back to look at him. he was still watching the tv, his head thrown back against the back of the couch with roscoe next to him.

"uh — i'll be right back, i need to change," y/n spoke, her confusion only growing as her fiancé gave no reply, not even a slight hum as an indication that he had heard her.

moving towards their bedroom, y/n could feel herself grow more confused, thinking of all of the possible reasons as to why lewis would be so short and distant with her.

maybe he was just having a bad day? maybe he was just tired? was he sick? did i do something? another rumour of me hooking up with my best friend? he found out i broke his favourite vase?

her mind swarming with plausible to way-too-ridiculous reasons, she didn't even notice her changing her own clothes until she was left staring at the heap that was her dress by her feet. picking it up and throwing it on the bed, she made her way towards the living room, hoping that maybe she just imagined it. that it was just ber overthinking mind that over analysed a situation.

"hey," y/n spoke again, walking around to the couch to the front of it. sensing that she wanted to sit here, roscoe stood up and moved a bit, just enough so that y/n could scoot in and then laid back, this time on her. "hey," lewis replied, his eyes flickering to her before he focused again on the show in front of him.

okay so, maybe she didn't imagine it.

"what are we watching?" y/n questioned, scratching behind roscoe's ears, desperate to make a conversation with him, seeing him for the first time since this afternoon.

"modern family," lewis sighed exasperated and as much as y/n hated to admit it, it made her feel like he didn't want her there at the moment. sure, he may have had his reasons but it didn't feel exactly good, noticing that her fiancé didn't wanna be around her at the moment.

as long as she's been with lewis, almost seven years, they've always communicated with each other. from the smallest of things like when y/n told lewis that she hated his choice of carpet for their living room to the biggest and the most important stuff like when lewis talked to y/n about wanting to wait until after they were married to have kids.

and the best thing about this was the other always understood. lewis understood that yeah, bright pink did clash with the warm and pastel tones of their home and y/n did understand that waiting until they were fully settled down was the best option.

and now, watching him not talk to her when there was obviously something bothering him was a bit confusing but still, she knew it was best to give him some space.

"uh — i'll be in the bedroom," y/n spoke, her voice just barely above a whisper and she knew he heard her because of the way his face changed and the way he turned to look at her with the slightest bit of confusion showing in his eyes. "it's been a long night and i just really want to sleep."

"okay," lewis whispered back and gave her a small smile, the most reaction she'd been able to get out of him since she came home.

"good night," y/n stood up, kissing roscoe's on the head before she turned toward lewis, who was watching his with an unreasonable look on his face. "good night, baby, i love you."

she barely heard an 'i love you' back before she was walking away from the couch and towards their bedroom. closing the door behind her, she picked up her dress from the bed and placed it on the chair by the dressing table, making a mental note to take it to the dry cleaners. after looking at herself one more time in the mirror and removing whatever was left of her makeup, she was in bed, covers drawn up to her chest.

y/n didn't know how long she laid there for, moving in and out of sleep. her mind was still stuck on lewis like a broken record, wondering what had happened while she was out. in the midst of her analysis, she didn't hear the footsteps approach the door until the person was right in front of it and the handle twisted and y/n quickly closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep just so he wouldn't question her about what she was doing.

the door opened and closed and the soft patter of footsteps could be heard.

there was silence for a full minute before lewis got in next to her, the sheet rustling. for the first five minutes, he stayed on his own side and y/n had to resist the urge to pull him closer to her, finding it hard to sleep when he was not holding her. then, he turned towards her and y/n had a feeling he was starting at her, finding it harder and harder to not let her expression change. she could feel movement next to her and ruled it out as lewis getting comfortable until a hand moved to lay across her abdomen and pulled her closer.

she heard lewis inhale deeply, his head moving to lay in the crook of her neck. she could feel his warm breath on the exposed part of her collarbone, feeling the goosebumps rise on her skin. she shifted against him, her hand moving to hold him closer.

they stayed like that for what felt like mere minutes, their breathing the only sound in the room along with the ticking of the clock with each passing second. y/n figured lewis fell asleep, with how even his breathing was and she was about to move to get a bit more comfortable when he spoke.

"i'm sorry," his voice was quiet in the room, his thumb tracing circles on her stomach where her tank top had risen up slightly. "for ignoring you, kind of and being distant. i know you don't like it."

"it's okay, lew. i just want you to be able to talk to me, whenever you feel like," y/n assured him, kissing the top of his head.

"it's a stupid thing, really," lewis chuckled half heartedly, his body vibrating against hers. "don't even worry about it."

"i always worry about it when it comes to you, you know that," y/n reminded him, making him look at her. "and it's not stupid if it bothers you. what is it, love?"

"it's just that — " lewis stopped before he could continue, taking a deep breath before speaking again. "you weren't wearing your engagement ring, when you were out with your friends and then that post you posted on your instagram, people took notice of that and they were all like 'why isn't she wearing her ring' and 'did they break up' and there were some hate comments too. i reported them, by the way. and then, i don't know, i just kinda got into too much overthinking and just made myself upset over nothing and i ignored you and you went back when it was so clear you just wanted to talk to me and i feel — "

he was interrupted by a kiss.

y/n kissed in the middle of his rambling, pulling him closer with the front of his t-shirt while one of her hands rested on his cheek. a surprised noise left lewis' mouth before he melted into the kiss, tilting his head so that he could deepen the kiss.

y/n pulled away, making lewis chase her lips once again and she gave him another soft kiss before pulling back fully and looking at him with a soft smile.

"do you not like the ring?" was the first thing that came out of his mouth, making y/n furrow her eyebrows.

"what?"

"do you not like the ring?" lewis repeated himself, sitting up slightly. "because if so, i can get you another one and this time you can come with me. i chose that one all by myself and i wasn't even really sure about it being 'you' because your style literally changes every week and i can totally understand if you don't like it like — that's totally valid and i'm sure — "

"oh, my god," y/n sat up straight, folding legs under her as she looked at her fiancé. "you think i don't like the ring?"

"... yeah."

"lewis," y/n dragged out the 's', standing up from the bed and rapidly moving towards her dresser, opening a small box and pulling out her ring, her engagement ring. "this the most beautiful ring i have ever seen in my life."

and it was, really. it had intricate patterns throughout the band, with a giant diamond sitting in the middle with several diamonds surrounding it. and what made it even more special was the fact that lewis had his initials, along with hers engraved on the inside of the ring. that's what made y/n fall in love with it.

"really?" lewis asked hopefully from the bed, watching her make her towards his side of the bed. she sat down next to him and took his hand in hers, the ring still clutched in her free hand.

"but that ring is not the reason i said yes, you know that, right? like, you could ask me to marry you with a ring made out of tissue paper and foil and i would still end up saying yes," y/n whispered, leaning in closer and placing a soft kiss on his lips before she gave him the ring and put out her hand for him to slide it on. "as long as it's you asking me that damn question."

lewis chuckled, sliding on the ring onto her ring finger and kissing it. he looked at her, the smile being so genuine that it shone in his eyes and y/n could see him being in love and she knew she was no different from him.

"marry me, will you?" lewis asked again, in the empty room with no one, no shining lights, no crowd standing there applauding, no extravagant arrangement of flowers, just them, a total contrast to when he had first asked the question. even though the answer was already yes, he couldn't help but ask. just so he could hear it one more time.

"only because you asked so nicely," y/n teased him, making lewis chuckle before he leaned in, closing the gap between them.

no shining lights, no crowd standing there applauding, no extravagant arrangement of flowers, just them.

yet, somehow, this managed to be even more special than that one.

≡;- ꒰ °real life ꒱

y/n wasn't there when lewis woke up, just a post it note, along with a small box on her side of the bed saying that she was called to her office a bit early and wouldn't be home until late afternoon.

lewis smiled as he looked at the numerous hearts drawn on the note. he kept the note aside, mentally noting that he would have to add it to his collection of notes he had received from y/n throughout the course of their relationship. he took the box and opened it, his face scrunched up in confusion before he smiled, a laugh leaving him as he took out the contents of the box.

it was a paper ring.

the most simple thing yet he knew he would choose this over a million something diamond ring. a small heart on the top with the ridges along the band, it was perfect.

there was another note attached to it, just one simple line and it had lewis smiling for the rest of the day

'i like shiny things but i'd marry u with paper rings ♡'

yeah, he made the right choice marrying her.

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton, lilymhe and 862,926 others

yourusername i like shiny things but i'd marry you with paper rings 💌

tagged lewishamilton

8,719 comments

username NO ONE'S DOING IT LIKE THEM

username brb crying.

username TAYLOR SWIFT REFERENCE IM DEAD

lilymhe gf are u cheating on me ://

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username i see how kind god has been to others 💔💔

username no bc they're so in love i could throw up

charles_leclerc is that why he's been blasting that damn song the whole day

-> lewishamilton it's a great song ❤️

-> yourusername yes it is ❤️

username THE PAPER RINGS THE LOVE LETTER THE SONG IM DECEASED

lewishamilton uh huh that's right darling ❤️

-> yourusername you're the one i want ❤️

lewishamilton loved the ring so much 💍 i love you

-> yourusername im so glad <3 i love you sm

#lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x fem!reader #lewis hamilton x female reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton instagram au #lewis hamilton imagines #lewis hamilton blurb #f1 instagram au #f1 x female reader #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #formula one x you #formula one x reader #formula one x y/n #fake instagram imagines #fake social media #social media au

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caplanbuckybarnes · 3 months ago

Text

Shadows of Love (Mafia loki)

summary: why cant he just love you?

Warnings: angst, unrequitted love

WC: 800ish

A/N: i'm not writing accepting requests, part 2's or anything liek that from marvel any longer. please do not ask.

Read on Ao3!

The dimly lit backroom of the nightclub throbbed with the heavy beat of music, but you felt far removed from the revelry. You leaned against the cool bar, a glass of whiskey untouched in front of you, your thoughts consumed by the man who dominated your heart—and your fears.

Loki, the cunning and enigmatic head of the Midgardian crime syndicate, had drawn you into his dangerous world with his charm and dark allure. But as you watched him from across the room, surrounded by his loyal men, the weight of his unspoken warnings echoed in your mind: “Love is the greatest weakness.”

You had always dismissed his words, thinking they were merely part of his playful banter. But now, seeing him strategize with his crew, you realized how true they were. His world was built on betrayal and bloodshed, and the moment you had stepped into it, you had become a target—a pawn in a deadly game.

As if sensing your gaze, Loki turned and caught your eye, a smirk forming on his lips. He walked toward you, confidence radiating from him like an intoxicating perfume. “Ah, my dear,” he said, leaning against the bar, his voice smooth as silk. “You look like you’re lost in thought. Care to share?”

You met his gaze, a mixture of love and fear swirling inside you. “I’m just worried about you, Loki. This life… it’s dangerous. You’re playing a game that could get you killed.”

He chuckled, but there was an edge to his laughter. “And you think your concern changes anything? This is who I am. You knew that when you stepped into my world.”

“Maybe I didn’t fully understand,” you admitted, the weight of your emotions pressing down on you. “But I love you, and it terrifies me. You could lose everything.”

His smile faltered, a flicker of something dark crossing his features. “Love is a weakness, you know. It clouds your judgment. It can make you vulnerable to those who would use it against you.”

You took a step closer, the desperation in your heart pushing you forward. “But it doesn’t have to be that way! We could have something real. You don’t have to do this alone.”

He straightened, the playful facade slipping away, replaced by the cold, calculating kingpin you had come to fear. “I can’t allow you to be a part of this, darling. It puts you in danger.”

“Loki…” you pleaded, your voice shaking. “You’re pushing me away. Don’t you see that? I’m not afraid of your world—I want to be with you, no matter what.”

His eyes darkened, and for a moment, you could see the internal struggle etched across his face. “And what if I fail? What if my enemies find out what you mean to me? You would become a target, and I won’t let that happen.”

“Then let me fight beside you,” you urged. “Let me be your strength, not your weakness.”

He shook his head, the pain in his expression cutting you deeper than any knife. “You don’t understand the kind of people I deal with. Love only makes you weak. I can’t risk your safety for the sake of my own desires.”

“Is that really how you feel?” you asked, your heart breaking. “You think that loving you would make me weak? I’d face anything for you, Loki.”

He stepped back, the distance between you feeling insurmountable. “You don’t know what you’re asking. This isn’t a fairy tale. I live in a world of chaos and blood. I can’t afford to care for anyone—especially not you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, a lump forming as you fought back tears. “So this is it? You’re choosing your empire over me?”

“Choosing?” he spat, frustration lacing his tone. “I’m trying to protect you! If you love me, you’ll understand why I must do this.”

“Love shouldn’t be a burden,” you said, voice trembling. “I want to be there for you. I want to share this life, the good and the bad.”

“Love is a burden in my world,” he countered, his voice cold and distant. “And you deserve a life free from this chaos, not tangled in the web of my mistakes.”

Silence enveloped you both, heavy with the weight of unfulfilled promises and unspoken fears. Finally, he turned away, walking toward the shadows of the club, leaving you standing alone, heart shattered.

“Loki…” you whispered, but your voice was lost in the pulsating music.

You were left with the bitter truth of his words echoing in your mind: love was indeed a weakness, a vulnerability he couldn’t afford. And as you stood there, feeling the emptiness of his absence, you realized that while he feared the strength of love, it was the very thing that would have saved him.

But in his world, darkness reigned, and you were just a flicker of light—too fragile to survive.

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson x y/n

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facefullofsadness · 1 year ago

Note

Can I request sub!Sakura x soft!dom!reader? Basically fluff smut (-_-")

sakura unnie being just the submissive bby girl she truly is 🥰

content - loser gamer!sakura (bc she literally is just a loser who happens to be an idol u can't change my mind), smut (cunnilingus, corruption kink kinda but not really inflicted, reader is a lil intoxicated), fluff (I guess? like kinda?)

wc - 2148 (might've gotten carried away...)

sakura is a sensitive girlie.

and this doesn't just apply to in bed but in real life too. when you first met her, she was so shy and jumpy. seeing her at a pc café with the cat ear headphones she brought from home, wearing glasses, gray sweatpants, and a graphic tee way too oversized for her small body.

going up to her because u recognized her from your biochem class, asking if she did the homework yet.

"oh uh, hi, you know my name? uhm, sorry I'm a mess. wait a second, sorry," kura would stumble over her words, balancing her focus between the pretty girl talking to her and the intense league match she had going on.

sigh, how fucking adorable.

the way you grazed her shoulder with the tips of your fingers as you *intently* watched as she tried not to feed the enemy team (failing by the way). your focus was more on the way sakura's body tensed at the gentle contact.

it flicked a switch in your brain watching her bite down hard on her lip, trying so hard not to break in front of you. this only whirred you on, needing to see her desperate. and so you made it your goal to make this girl yours, in every way.

wooing her (easily bc pretty girl) into becoming your girlfriend, making her feel so loved and special, making her feel like you were the only person in the world for her. yes of course you loved her truly, but the switch that was on in your head always shone a light so bright that reminded you of how obsessed you were with the submissive aspects of this girl.

starting tame in your relationship, holding hands, cupping her cheeks and rubbing your thumbs against them, planting soft and gentle kisses on her, giving her sweet cuddles. it would eventually progress into brushing fingers against her sensitive waist, hearing as kura would release shaky breaths at the contact, deep and passionate makeout sessions where she would be breathless and sweaty under you, kissing and leaving dark marks on her neck and across her chest which would have her whining, trying to push you away because god how embarrassing it felt to be so small against you.

seeing her face so flushed pink and eyes dazed after an intimate moment drove you insane. you absolutely just needed to see more. and so when the first time you guys had sex, you had to remind yourself not to take it too far. after all, she's still your lovely sweet loser girlfriend who wouldn't hurt a fly (mostly because she's probably too scared of it).

and by sex, I mean eating out your precious girlfriend while she was gaming. you had gotten a little tipsy that night, drinking by yourself in the living room, dragging your body into kura's bedroom where she was focused in on a match of overwatch. too buzzed to act interested in her game, you pull yourself onto her lap and nestled your face into her neck.

you smiled against her skin as you felt the girl's breath hitch at the sudden gesture, your hot breath hitting her sensitive spot.

"y/n baby, I'm k-kinda busy right n-now..." she'd stutter, losing focus.

you shush her, planting wet kisses against her jaw and neck, "keep playing kura, don't worry about me. just focus."

the cogs in your brain speed and your heartbeat races with the corruptive thoughts running through your head. you feel yourself heat up at the need to feel her fall apart against you, shaking in your hold. hearing her shaky voice make callouts to her teammates over comms, your greedy hands brushing her sides and trailing her abdomen, mouth leaving wet spots across her exposed collarbone.

you moan against her skin, her body so tense when you touch her, exciting you more than you think is possible. though you wanted to be patient and gentle with her when it comes to intimate moments like this, in your drunken state, it was hard to think straight. and so it slips your mind when your hands trail up to cusp her tits, thumbs rubbing her hard nipples in circles.

your brain short circuits when you hear her whimper right against your ear, kissing her on the cheek and grinding down against her core. you push one of the headphone muffs back, whispering in her ear.

"do you like that baby, like when I touch your naughty little body like this? like when I grind against your aching pussy like that?" you rasp breathily, biting the lobe of her ear and chuckling lowly.

one of her hands fly off of the keyboard and quickly mute her mic, bringing her hand to tangle her fingers with your hair.

"ahhh fuck, y/n-ie, I'm.. that feels so.. ahh," sakura can't contain the moans slipping out of her mouth easily as your grinding continues and your fingers pinch at her hardened buds.

you pull your face away from her heaving chest and bring your lips to grace her own lips, "baby, why'd you stop playing? be a good girl and win for me."

how evil, sakura must be thinking in that little head of hers, clouded with lust.

she whines needily against your lips and you kiss her sweetly in response, "c'mon baby, I'll reward you if you listen to me."

and so she gulps and nods, leaning forward against you before unmuting and returning back to the game. hm, how easy it is to control you my love, you think sinisterly.

pulling ur hands away and getting off of her, looking up at her darting eyes, full of nervousness and excitement, you smirk at the sight. you bring your hands up to the waistband of her sweats, untying the knot and slowly pulling them down.

your eyebrows raise when you see how dark her panties have gotten, wet and practically soaked with arousal.

"you DO like this baby, don't you? looks like a little too much, what do you think?" you bite your lip as you drag a single finger across the whole length of her slit, feeling how damp her underwear truly is.

she whimpers uncontrollably above you, clamping her eyes shut and throwing her head back against the headrest, trying so hard to hold back. you just know her hands are gripped tightly into fists as you press your thumb firmly against her clit through the cloth.

"guys please, we're so close," sakura begs her teammates to wrap up the game, almost a double entendre to your ears.

you look up at her sweetly and innocently, "or take your time my love, I can wait."

she peers down to look at you and frowns, eyes welling up and face scrunched with pleasure. aww, my poor baby, she wants you to stop teasing so bad and just let her fucking cum.

you hook your fingers around her panties and pull them down to pool at her ankles with her sweatpants. you pull her to the edge of her gamer chair by her thighs, your strong grip pushing apart her legs.

"you'll get what you need so bad when you win," god you're so mean :(((

she's aching so bad, the way you can physically see her hole clench around nothing, just by your words and the sheer amount of arousal that courses through her. you can't just let her go untouched, so when you throw her panties and sweats off of her ankles and to the side, lifting her legs to rest on top of your shoulders, hearing her squeal at the movement, and hotly breathe out onto her core, you go dizzy. you swear you're probably much more fucking soaked in your underwear than she is by how turned on you were by the effects you had on her.

none of that mattered right now though, all that did matter and the only thing you focused on was sakura. your precious sakura and her leaking hole. you couldn't resist anymore, diving in and sucking her entrance directly, using your tongue to lap at all the juices that she produced messily all over her pussy.

"fuck y/n!" she moaned, not caring about the game and throwing an arm over her face, hiding behind it.

"shhh, play," you'd mumble against her, flicking your wet muscle on her bundle of nerves.

"I-I can't baby..." kura whined, hearing her start to sob.

no no, couldn't have your baby suffer now could you?

"you can do it, go kura, make me proud," you'd caress her legs sweetly, moving away from her center and kissing her trembling thighs.

"we.. I'm almost, d-done," she shakily said.

at that moment, you heard cheering explode from her headphones, sakura throwing them off and muting her mic.

her hands would fly to gripping one of your hands around her thighs and your hair, "y/n, please please please, god please it hurts so bad."

looking up at her pained and desperate expression, you smiled again, "don't worry, I'll give you your reward my good girl."

diving in greedily finally, thrusting your tongue into her hole, making the most graphic wet noises from your needy mouth and her leaking pussy. the girl above you uncontrollably moaning out your name, gripping your hand and hair tightly, it hurt.

it didn't matter to you as the juice on your tongue was so delicious, the whines filling your ears sounded like music, and the body you held was trembling with pleasure. you closed your eyes as you dug your wet muscle into her and brushed your nose against her clit.

"baby ahh! fuck fuck fuck, yes yes, please don't stop, please god, it feels sosososo good y/n, I beg you, your mouth is insane," sakura would ramble mindlessly.

you listened, being crazily pussy drunk, not being able to breathe but not caring, borderline deep throating her pussy with how deep you dug your face into her. being so horny yourself, grinding against the air and panting into her. your fingers gripped painfully against her thighs, forgetting your entire plan to treat her caringly.

not that sakura seemed to mind, her head was thrown back and mouth hung wide open, eyes rolled back and screaming out profanities with your name. her hand in your hair pushed you deeper into her, grinding her hips desperately against you.

you loosened your grip slightly to let her fuck your face. you wanted to see her lose control because of you badly, so you opened your eyes to look up at her, and you swear you could cum on the spot just by how sinful the sight was. you moaned deeply into her pussy, the vibrations making sakura go insane, her body started to thrash and jolt, humping your face even more.

you slurped hungrily at her, losing any thoughts of technique and simply eating her out how you needed to. after all, kura doesn't care and grinds against your face rabidly, everything feels too fucking good to think.

"CUMMING, CUMMING!" she'd scream out, grip on you tightening even more.

"cum for me," you try mumbling as much as you could, airways practically blocked with her pussy.

sakura's body convulses, shaking with a screaming orgasm, juices squirting from her and drenching your face, chest, and clothes. you almost drown at the contact, but drink all the arousal that escapes.

her body stops violently jolting, only jerking every now and then from the aftershocks of the mindblowing climax she just came from. you release your tight grip as she does also, caressing her thighs softly, and kissing all over her sensitive core and legs. poor baby is completely gone, dazed and exhausted. you pull away from her pussy but make your way up to her face, never fully ripping away from her.

cupping her face and looking at her spent figure. chest raising and falling, mouth open, drool leaking out, cheeks stained with tears, body limp, thighs marked red, neck littered with hickies, her eyes half-lidded, and mumbling.

"y/n-ie, I'm can't," you giggle at how fucked out she is.

the throbbing at your core hurts honestly, but you ignore it, carrying your baby girl off of the chair and onto her bed. your clothes were soaked with her juices, looking back at her desk and seeing remnants of it there too. you'd clean it later, what matters is taking care of your girlfriend now.

"you did so well baby, you can rest," you'd whisper comfortingly in her ear, kissing her lips softly.

"do you want me to get you water? I can run the bath for you?" you offer, rubbing your hands sweetly over her red thighs.

"no, need you here," she'd say, pulling you into a cuddle, passing out on the spot.

you smile and place a peck on sakura's forehead, "okay."

need her so bad...

#ffos reqs #sakura #miyawaki sakura #le sserafim #le sserafim fanfic #le sserafim x reader #le sserafim smut #fanfiction #kpop #kpop gg #sakura smut #girl group smut #chaewon #yunjin #kazuha #eunchae

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aprilthearcher · 1 year ago

Text

me and you... were meant to be.

[remus lupin x f!reader] [platonic james potter x f!reader]

slytherin!reader (because i myself am one). use of (y/n) (though i tried my best to not overuse it)

angst, but happy ending. remus' insecurities get in the way of your fresh relationship. 3k words.

i haven't written for remus for a long, long time so i tried to do my best because i love him to pieces and recently i've been experiencing a remus lupin era so... here it is. also, that spell she uses to protect her home... i've no idea if it exists, i just liked it.

english is not my first language, so there could be some mistakes. pictures are not mine.

thank you for reading!

i wrote this while listening to "Don't Delete the Kisses" by Wolf Alice and "What if I Love You" by Gatlin.

“What if you and I… What if we were never meant to be?”

“What are you saying, Remus?”

“I'm saying that I don't think we… I don't think it’s good for us to keep seeing each other.”

“But, but why? We are so good right now, we… I’m trying here, Remus, but I don't get it. Why would you do this?”

“I've just told you, we are not meant for each other. You… you des…” He stopped mid sentence. “I don't see you like that anymore, I'm sorry if I made you think otherwise.”

Now, on top of a bus that would drop her off a couple of blocks from her flat, she couldn’t recall a single moment in their short relationship that could’ve propelled something like this. They were good, really good. After dancing around each other for so long during their Hogwarts years, they had finally admitted their feelings one summer afternoon while looking at the sun go down and the moon rise up. Four months later, he was ending it. Salazar, could he have been high? She knew sometimes the boys would smoke those muggle herbs Marlene would bring them, overcharging them of course, but he had never said something so… heartbreaking under their influence. No, he couldn’t have been high, he would become even touchier when he’d smoke some, ignoring his friend’s presence and delighting in the passionate, even primal, effect they’d produce; the lightheaded feeling that allowed him to relax and run his fingers through her arms, her hands, her neck and jaw…

She pressed the palm of her hands against her eyes when they started to water for the fifth time that evening after leaving Dorcas’ apartment complex. Was he so desperate to get rid of her that he couldn’t even wait to do it at home? What would her great-grandmother think of her if she saw her like this? “Crying over a half-blood, a HALF-BREED, you are nothing but a blood traitor. You’ve tainted our legacy, you and your good-for-nothing parents, you are no more worthy than those mudbloods you hang round, affiliating yourself with muggles, living a life surrounded by them." Why did she keep caring about what she would think? She had never shared her views on blood purity and how any wizard or witch that wasn’t part of the Sacred Families would be undeserving of its magic. She hated people like her grandmother. She hated that the old hag had tried to drill these thoughts into her head since a very young age. She was glad she had died and she was glad her parents were nothing like their parents, so why was she remembering her now? Perhaps it was the fear of losing her entire friend group that made her sick mind resort to conjuring the old witch’s voice in her head.

She truly hoped for her great grandmother to be rolling in her grave at the sight of one of her descendants crying over a werewolf and the possibility of losing her entire friend group made up of blood traitors, half-bloods, and muggleborns.

She knew they weren’t like that, that they wouldn’t isolate her for something like this. Merlin, they didn’t even know, at least until tonight, of their relationship! Though she was sure it wouldn’t take long for them to figure it out after how she had left in such an abrupt manner, without saying goodbye and barely making it to the door without the tears falling down her cheeks. She had left the task of explaining everything to Remus.

“Lady, this is the last stop!” The bus driver called out from the front of the vehicle.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Fuck Remus Lupin for breaking her heart, for making her cry and making her miss her bus stop. Fuck him for making her feel so in love she left her guard down, fuck him for assuring her that he could trust him.

Although she had planned to take the muggle bus to get her mind off things and not get home immediately — for she was sure her lonely flat would make her feel worse, for she was sure there was one of Remus’ sweater idle placed on the back of an armchair she was hoping to return tonight after he’d accompanied her home —, she had not anticipated missing her stop and having to walk ten or so blocks home. It was not that she felt unsafe wandering through London this late, but she just felt emotionally exhausted.

She almost jogged all the way home, not wanting to encounter any trouble on her way home for she was not in the right state of mind for fighting anyone, muggle or not. Though, perhaps, the rush of adrenaline that would come from a brawl would bring her back to life, a little at least.

She’d taken two steps into the hallway when she saw the light coming from her flat. Stopping on her tracks, she got her wand out of her leather holster strapped in her left shoulder and approached her door. Good thing she had opted to climb the stairs instead of apparating inside; if she were to be ambushed, she wouldn’t have had any time to prepare.

With the whisper of an incantation the door opened slowly. For a moment, she forgot about Remus and the only thing on her mind was to find out who was inside her home. Her mind was reeling with ideas. Death eaters.

Death eaters. Death eaters. Death eaters.

But how? She had secured the place with some, if not all, of the best protective spells. Dorcas had helped her set them up. The locks were unbreachable, as well as the magical barriers protecting the walls from all sides, there were only two people that could apparate inside, her and…

“Prongs?”

She had chosen James as the only other person to be able to apparate inside her home. The spell was infallible and it had taken them several months of hard work, but it was worth it since not even someone who had induced the polyjuice potion, impersonating James, could get in.

She saw him pacing round her living room, his fingers twirling his wand in the air, a trick she had seen muggle musicians do when playing the drums. He stopped once he saw her, quickly coming to wrap one arm around her frame while the other pushed the door closed. The hiss of the invisible sigils increased for a second.

“I thought something had happened to you on the way home, you took so long. Why did you take so long? I was worried sick.”

“Merlin, James, the baby is making you act just like your mother.”

“Shut up, I was genuinely worried. Was about to go searching for you.”

“I took the bus but missed my stop, so I had to walk.”

He nodded, relaxing a bit now that he saw his best friend was okay. Physically, at least. Her emotions were still all over the place, her heart had calmed down and decided to break again after realising there were no intruders in her home.

“What happened back then, dove? With Remus? You, you just run away.”

“I think you know what happened, James.” She said, while hanging her coat in the rack and taking out her boots. She knew he knew, he wouldn’t have left Dorcas’ flat without an explanation from Remus after seeing her so distressed.

James sighed. Even though her own feelings were messed up, she could still realise this was a difficult position for James, and the rest of them, to be in. (Y/N) and James had been friends since they were young, younger than now at least, knowing each other because their parents introduced them the summer before beginning their third year at Hogwarts. She was a Slytherin thus making it hard for the boy to trust her, even at that age, but one stern look from his mother Euphemia had the boy overcoming his prejudice against her in a heartbeat. It had been quite impossible to separate them since then, which meant introducing her to the rest of his friends. Sirius had been apprehensive, Peter quite terrified… Remus… Remus had been intrigued, you could say. All of his previous interactions with Slytherins hadn’t been pleasing, but this was the girl he had Transfiguration with, who would raise her hand faster than anyone and answer correctly, getting all the spells right on her first try. This was the girl he had glanced at maybe once — he definitely did more than glance — at the library, carrying way too many books for her on one hand while the other, holding her wand, pointed to the floating pile of heavier tomes behind her.

Remus is also one of his best friends, the four of them are like brothers. She couldn’t deny she was quite surprised to see James here, attempting to comfort her instead of him.

He still had his arm around her shoulders when they started to walk towards the kitchen. If James intended to stay then she was in dire need of some tea to pass the bad taste the fight had left in her mouth. He would want to hear her side of the story. Turning to light up the room, she saw pints of red covering James’ knuckles. She disengaged from his hug, positioning her body in front of his then grabbed his hand, harshly. She heard him wince. His eyes scrunched and his lips closed in a thin line, she knew. He knew that she knew.

“Did any of his teeth fall out?” She pressed her fingers to his bloodied knuckles.

“No, but… Ow! Would you stop that?” He tried to release his hand from his grasp, she tightened her hold.

“I don’t need you defending me, James.”

“You’re my best friend, of course I’ll…”

“He’s your best friend too!” She yelled. Salazar, she was pathetic. Defending the boy who crushed her heart no more than two hours ago. “I don’t want you fighting my battles for me, James, especially when it’s against one of your friends.”

“I’m sorry, dove, you are like a sister to me. I couldn’t help it.”

“It’s not like he did anything wrong though. He… he is allowed to change his mind. I - I was the one to get too caught up. I shouldn’t have, I shouldn’t have…”

“I didn’t punch him because he ‘changed his mind’, dove. I punched him because he was lying about that.”

“James…”

“No, no, listen. Listen to me.” He grabbed her face, wiping the new set of tears that had begun to cascade down her face. “I know Remus and I know that he loves you, that he’s loved you since you jinxed one of the fourth years after bad mouthing Peter, perhaps even before that. He’s not telling the truth and he’s pushing you away because he’s terrified of how much he loves you. That’s why I hit him, thought it’d make him realise he cannot lose you.”

“Salazar, you really are your mother.” James laughs at your comment, heart soaring with desperation at the new turn of events. He knew something more was going on with Remus and (Y/N) as of the last couple of months because James Potter was observant and this new bond didn’t look like the shy glances they’d throw from across the Hall during their Hogwarts’ years. These were slow, delicate touches; soft smiles and bodies that would look to be close to each other every chance they got. So he wanted nothing more than for his friends to be happy; although he should’ve seen Remus’ self-sabotaging tendencies coming because he knew all of his friends like the back of his hand, he didn’t. He blamed the uprising war for that. He blamed it for everything, from clouding Remus’ judgement more than ever to forcing him and Lily, and consequently the rest of the Order, to be constantly on the lookout for danger. None of them had had a good night’s sleep for months now.

“You should still apologise, you’ve been friends for years and I…”

Rapid, loud knocks against her front door interrupted (Y/N). She and James looked at each other, he had a hunch of who it might be but getting his wand at the ready didn’t hurt. (Y/N) had the same idea, she started to move towards the entrance with her arm up, wand always pointing at the door.

“Who is it?” The banging stopped.

“It’s … It’s me, Rem - Remus. I - I.” She could hear him shuffling outside, as if he were moving round the place, jumping from one foot to another; he probably was. “It's really me, I - I got you that black leather holster for your wand as a gift. You bought the rug on your bedroom floor in a flea market last month, you said it reminded you of the one you had back home. Your favourite colour is red and you hated yourself for it because James always joked how you should’ve been in…”

“Gryffindor.” By the time Remus had been at the end of his ranting, she had unlocked the door and opened it all the way, hitting the rag on the way.

“Yeah, but green always looked better on you.” Remus looked at her face, he could see the trail of black makeup going from her eyes to her chin. She must’ve felt his stare because in a swift movement she got rid of the marks, or at least she tried to. It smudged a bit more than he knew she would’ve preferred.

“You’ve got blood on your face.” She said.

“I know, I - I tripped down the…” Remus tried to explain while cleaning the blood with the back of his sweater. She could’ve told him she’ll clean it up for him with the touch of a finger. She didn’t.

“You don’t have to cover for him, I know James punched you.”

“Damn right I did.” She heard from inside the flat. James was leaning against the arch that separated the living room from the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest and a look that must’ve frightened Remus because of how he bent his head down and then looked up again, nodding as to show he’d understood his lesson. (Y/N) stared at James with an eyebrow raised, he sighed and then said: “I’m going to get Lily back at Dorcas’. See you, dove.” With a crack in the air, James disappeared.

“What I said, earlier, it - it wasn’t true.” Remus began once they had settled on her velvet green sofa. She had found it on the street, a bit tattered but nothing magic couldn’t repair. “I’m an idiot but I’m just so scared. So frightened that.. that what I - what I am will put a higher target behind your back. I’m a half-breed, a monster, and people like me … No, no let me finish. People like me don’t deserve someone as pure as you so I thought…”

“You thought pushing me away, breaking my heart, would solve any of that?”

“Well, yes! If I’m not putting you in danger during the full moon, then I’m putting you in danger because they - they won’t hesitate to come after you if you are with me.”

“You bloody git. They are after all of us, even if we aren’t together, they’ll still come after me…”

“You don’t know that.”

“What are you saying, Remus? I’m a blood traitor in their eyes, my best friend is a muggleborn. My own great-grandmother would put me on the ground if she could see me right now so don’t try to make me understand you with this bullshit. You may be scared of love, of loving me, but I’m not. I love you and I’ve loved you for so long that I’m not going to give you up, not at times like this. I don’t care that you’re a werewolf, I’ve never cared. And I get that it’s hard for you, that you feel guilty when we try to alleviate your pain, but I’m fucking exhausted that you think I won’t be able to handle it, to handle you and your transformations.” She inched her face closer to his, a hand moving up to cradle his jaw while the other grabbed his hand. “I chose to be with you, knowing full well that it wouldn’t be easy and not because you’re a werewolf but because you are an insufferable arsehole who doesn’t let people in, who is afraid of hurting others while not realising that he’s still hurting them when he pushes them away.”

He didn’t respond, he just leaned further on the touch of her hand. It grounded him. How was he able to think, even for a second, that he would survive without her light-feathered touch, without her hands running through his hair or his arms that would give him goosebumps?

“I thought that you had grown tired of me or that you had never loved me the way I loved you. That you’d thought I wasn’t loyal to the Order, that somehow I would…”

“No, no, no. I’d never, (Y/N), truly, I’d never. I got lost, I- I thought someday you would realise how you had ruined your life by spending it alongside… me. You could do so much better, and yet…”

“I’m sure there are men out there, wizards or not, that are less frightened at the idea of love than you are, Remus. But they’re surely not you, because they’re not as funny, or smart, or witty, or sensible, or great as you. I’d probably get bored of them within the hour and then I’d be lost because you wouldn’t be beside me. The only man I want is you. No one else. You drill that into your head or next time you try to pull a stunt like this I’ll kill you.”

“Got it.” He whispered before leaning in even closer, his lips barely brushing hers. He wanted to be sure she was okay with this; he wanted to be absolutely sure he hadn’t completely messed up their relationship but for that he needed her to confirm it; to accept his apology. She did, sealing their lips desperately, trying to transmit everything she had just said but with a kiss. She had been so terrified that the only way to have him in her life would be through meetings to discuss missions and war plans; that she would never get to touch him, to kiss him, to hold him after a rough full moon again. “You wouldn’t actually kill me, right?”

“No, but I would tell James to punch ten times harder.”

“Please don’t, he’s got a sick hook.”

“Then you better behave.”

She kissed him again, deeper this time. Their lips moved synchronised, familiar with each other; her hands travelled all the way up to his hair while his circled around her waist, bringing her closer. Chest against chest, with her legs propped up into his lap, they stayed like that for a long time before Remus laid her down on the sofa.

#remus lupin #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin angst #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin x f!reader #remus lupin x slytherin!reader #slytherin!reader #marauders #marauders x reader #marauders x you #marauders fanfiction

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reiding-writing · 1 year ago

Note

may i request getting stuck in an elevator with early season Spence after hours at the BAU and the lights go out and obviously him being terrified of the dark he starts panicking and reader has to comfort him until he eventually explains his fear of the dark in relation to something happening in his childhood. just some angst and hurt/comfort ig? I live and breathe your content <3

malfunction [ s.r ]

Summary:

You and Spencer end up staying late to finish some paperwork after a case, when you finally vacate into the elevator to leave it breaks down, revealing some secrets harboured by both of you and strengthening your relationship in the process.

WARNINGS: claustrophobia, nyctophobia, arachnophobia, mentions of spencer’s bullying

pairing: s1!spencer x gn!reader

genre: hurt/comfort

wc: 3.2k

masterlist!!

a/n: glad i’ve curated an audience of angst and hurt/comfort enjoyers <33

It was late.

12:06AM to be exact.

Silence riddled the bullpen, making the usually bustling office stand completely still.

You might’ve found it a little disturbing if not for Spencer sat a few desks down from you, his mere presence stopping your mind from running rampant with irrational fears of ghosts or demons that might lurk in the dark corners of the room.

It was a little stupid sure, your lanky book-genius of a coworker held no chance of being able to physically protect you from whatever your brain could conjure up, but the mind works in wonderous ways, and he offered you an unintentional blanket of security nonetheless.

You could hear the loose papers of his files rustle as he closed the manilla folder, rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses with a sigh.

Looks like Spencer was done for the night. And by that logic, so were you.

You mirror Spencer as you shut your file, packing it away in your messenger bag and tucking your chair under your desk as you stand, the two of you silently acknowledging each other’s presence as you reach the elevator.

You could practically feel the fatigue surrounding the both of you as you stepped inside, your tiredness bouncing off each other and making you more desperate to crawl into bed and knock out for the night.

It didn’t last for very long.

A loud clunking sound echoed through the metal walls of the elevator, followed by it jolting to a stop, and you had to grip onto the metal bar lining the wall so you didn’t lose your balance.

Your eyes turn first to the small screen above the door, flickering between the numbers 2 and 3 as if it can’t decide what floor you’re currently on.

Then they turn to Spencer.

Spencer's breathing is uneven and his body tense, eyes darting around the tiny enclosed space with a distinct air of panic.

“Reid? Are you alright?” You raise an eyebrow at him, your expression a mix of curiosity and concern.

"N-No, no! I am not alright! This is my worst nightmare come to life." Spencer presses himself against the far wall, as if plastering himself to it will make him part of the elevator and therefore unable to be injured if something goes wrong.

“You do know how unlikely it is to actually get any sort of injury from an elevator accident right?”

"One out of ten point five million. I know that. But this isn't about logic this is about fear." He turns away as he speaks, taking a few breaths in an attempt to calm himself down. "I'm-I'm claustrophobic. And this is not helping."

“Okay- okay- let’s just calm down for a second,” You hold up a hand in Spencer’s direction. You never took him as somebody to have irrational fears like this. You always figured that he’d just use his knowledge to rationalise what was happening and move on. Apparently not.

Spencer looks back at you and nods, taking in another deep breath.

“I'm trying. It's just-“ The elevator makes a rumbling sound that elicits what you can only classify as a whimper to leave his throat. “I can't do this. I can't be stuck in this tiny space for an unknown amount of time. I can't. I just can't. Please. Please, someone. Someone has to know we're in here. They have to.”

“Reid- Calm down.”

You let go of the bar you were holding onto to walk over to Spencer, placing your hands cautiously on his shoulders.

"I-I'm trying. I'm trying."

But he doesn't actually seem to be any better than he was before. His body is shaking, his breaths shaking and uneven.

He's getting very close to having a full blown panic attack.

“Sit down,” You push gently against his shoulders to encourage him to sit, following after him yourself to sit in front of him with your legs crossed underneath you.

Spencer lets out a trembling breath. "What if we die in here? What if no one comes? What if something goes wrong?"

“We’re going to be fine,”

You hold out a hand palm up in your lap as open invitation for him to take it if he needs to.“just take slow breaths Reid,”

"I-I'm trying." He looks down at your hand and almost reaches out for you, but hesitates before yanking his hand back.

He looks away and forces his breath to slow down again. "What if we're in here for hours?"

“Elevators have failsafes Reid, it’ll sort itself out don’t worry,”

Spencer takes a shuddered breath in through his nose, closing his eyes as he repeats your words in his head.

It’ll sort itself out. He doesn’t need to worry.

He meets your eyes with a small nod and you sigh, giving him a sympathetic smile that reassures him he’s going to be fine.

Unfortunately, all of your efforts to calm him down are quickly reversed as the lights cut out, sending the elevator into complete darkness.

His sudden blindness brings a startled cry from Spencer, his body instinctively trying to protect himself and in that split second of shock he grabs your hand.

He clutches at it tightly, eyes squeezed shut.

“Everything’s fine-“ You return his startled grip with a light squeeze of your own.

The grip around your hand feels firm and shaky but the contact helps to ground him, bringing some of his panic down a notch or two.

“It's not f-fine. It's dark. I don’t like the dark . I hate it.”

“You’re scared of the dark?” You sound more surprised than you mean to, and although you can’t pinpoint all of his features in the shadows, you’re sure you can see his eyebrows knit together.

“11% of the US adult population is afraid of the dark.” His tone carries an air of defensiveness through his fear, although he doesn’t seem offended enough at your comment to sacrifice the physical comfort that your hand is offering in his.

“Oh- no- I didn’t mean it as a bad thing-“ You shake your head despite the fact that he can’t see you, tightening your hold on his hand as an offer of reassurance. “I just- didn’t see you as somebody to have a fear of the dark is all-“

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You can hear the slight waver in his voice as he speaks, clearly trying to distract himself in your questions so he doesn’t have to think about his current situation.

You’d also wager he has his eyes shut, as ironic as it is.

“I just meant- you know- your brain rationalises everything so quickly that I figured you just wouldn’t have fears like this?”

He chuckles nervously, the sound echoing in the darkness. "Well, even the most rational minds have their quirks, I suppose. Fear doesn't always follow logic." The tension in his voice begins to ease, and he opens up a bit more.

“Is there a reason you have a fear of the dark?” You could understand his claustrophobia to a certain level, but nyctophobia wasn’t something very common in adults, especially ones who work as field agents for the FBI.

“I uh- it was just something that happened when I was younger, it’s stupid really-” Spencer skirts your question with a half-truth, not divulging any details of his seemingly irrational fear of the dark.

He shifts slightly, adjusting to find a more comfortable position on the floor, his hand tugging yours and in the process forcing you to change your seating position as well.

You squeeze his hand gently. "Do you wanna talk about it? People usually find it easier to rationalise their fears if they voice them to another person,” You use Spencer’s own intelligence against him in the hope that it’ll get him to open up.

As much as you had learned about him in the past two years, you still knew surprisingly little about Dr. Spencer Reid and his life outside of the office.

You knew all about his academics, how he liked his coffee with as much sugar as humanely possible, how under normal circumstances he would rather lick a toilet seat than shake someone’s hand.

But you didn’t really know him; And you figured this might be a good place to start.

“I… It’s not something I like to dwell on,” He tries to shut down your questioning once more, clearing his throat to try and rid of the lump that forms when he thinks back to the origins of his fears. “It’s not exactly a nice thing to remember,”

“I get that, some of my childhood memories aren’t the best either,” You let out a breath that could almost constitute as a laugh of exasperation. “But it might help, and i’m sure that just getting it off your chest will give you piece of mind nonetheless,”

You can hear Spencer take in a breath through his nose, and through the small adaptation your eyes had made to the darkness you could just barely see his lips purse into a line, debating whether or not to divulge his childhood to you.

It’s not like he didn’t trust you with it. Quite the opposite. He’d come to enjoy your presence over the time you’d spent working together.

You didn’t judge his intelligence, nor did you reduce him to it. You just saw him as another person and it was something that he was incredibly grateful for.

He knew you wouldn’t make fun of him if he told you, but he wasn’t worried about that. He was worried that you’d pity him.

That you’d treat him like some fragile object that would break if you spoke too loudly in its presence.

That’s something that he’d never want.

“I- don’t want you to think of me differently…” His voice was still laced with fear as he spoke, but this time it wasn’t a fear of the dark metal box he was trapped in; It was a fear of how your view of him would change.

“Reid…”

“I don’t want to be pitied or have people walk on eggshells for the sake of hurting my feelings…” You can practically feel his apprehension through the way his hand tenses in yours.

“Reid-“

“I’ve just managed to get people to treat me normally and I don’t want all of that to go down the drain-“

“Spencer.”

You can see his eyes snap upwards towards yours as you raise your voice, and you pull his left hand into your own to hold both of them in your lap, eyes chasing his in the darkness to maintain eye contact. “You’re human. Humans have fears and they have bad memories, and it’s not going to change anything about how I treat you.”

“Tell you what,” You give his hands a squeeze, leaning forwards slightly towards him to try and get a better look at his face. “I’ll tell you one of my childhood tragedies if you tell me yours, deal?”

He goes silent as he ponders your offer, ending with a small nod that you can only half see. “Okay…”

“Okay,” You return his nod with your own, running your thumbs over the backs of his hands. “So, i’ll go first,”

“When I was eight, my cousin thought it’d be a good idea to let his pet tarantula crawl all over my face whilst I was sleeping, and I woke up with it half in my mouth,” You practically shudder at the memory. “Needless to say I developed arachnophobia after that,”

You laugh breathily, shaking your head slightly. “It was not very fun,”

“Why would he do that?”

You shrug slightly, arms moving enough that he can feel it where your fingers connect. “He was a bit of a bully if i’m honest, but he’s matured since then thank god,”

“Are you- still afraid of spiders?” Spencer’s eyes practically shine in the darkness, big, round and glistening with curiosity as they scan your face from beneath his glasses.

“Promise not to make fun of me?” Your question is answer enough, but he still nods softly nonetheless. “I think they’re terrifying,”

“Almost 20% of the US population has arachnophobia, it’s a very common fear to have,”

“So is a fear of the dark,” You bring the conversation back to Spencer’s fear once more. “Willing to tell me its origin story yet?”

Spencer sighs, his shoulders slumping and his head leaning back against the wall of the elevator. “It’s-“ He exhales through his nose, his eyes diverting from yours to stare at your interconnected hands.

“When I was in school I was bullied a lot…” He purses his lips and you nod. As sad as it is you’re not exactly surprised.

Someone as insanely intelligent as him was unfortunately bound to be tormented by those who were academically inferior to him, it’s a by-product of jealousy.

“They uh… stripped me down and tied me to a goal post, and- then they just left me there-“ Spencer’s throat catches as he speaks, and you can see through the way his eyes flicker around that he’s replaying the memory in his head.

“I- managed to untie myself after a while, but I spent over an hour searching for all of my clothes and ended up walking home in the dark half dressed…” Spencer’s lip quivers as he reaches the end of his explanation.

“I don’t think i’ve ever been more scared in my life…”

“I’m so sorry they did that to you…” Your eyebrows furrow with sympathy, and you shift your hold on his hands to intertwine your fingers with his. “Nobody should have to experience that…”

Spencer exhales, and you can hear the shake in his breath. “I thought if I just buried it that i’d forget, but I still remember it like it happened yesterday…”

The curse of an eidetic memory you suppose. Destined to remember every detail of the worst experiences you’d ever had.

Although you’re sure that Spencer wouldn’t need an eidetic memory to have what happened to him burned into his brain.

“Spencer…”

“I’m sorry-“ Spencer shakes his head, attempting to pull his hands out of yours. “I told you it was stupid-“

“Hey. No.” You close your hands around his to stop him from pulling away. “That is in no way stupid at all.”

“You went through something awful and developed a fear because of it. That is the furthest thing from stupid Reid,”

“I just-”

You cut off Spencer’s attempt at a rebuttal with a pull of your hands in his, separating them only to wrap your arms around him in a hug. “No excuses.”

Spencer is stiff in your embrace, unsure of what exactly he should be doing. Should he hug you back? Should he pull away to regain his personal space?

He wasn’t exactly sure. He did however, feel like he was going to cry.

He could feel the tears welling up behind his eyelids, squeezing his eyes shut to stop them from falling down his face and hiding his face against the curve of your shoulder so that you wouldn’t be able to see the shadow of his expression.

God he was pathetic.

Sat in his coworkers embrace because he was scared of the goddamn dark.

On the verge of tears because of something that happened twelve years ago.

A twenty four year old man. A fully grown adult.

His shoulders begin to tremble as he thinks about it, and you can feel the way his breath catches in his throat as you bring your hand to the back of his head to hold him closer to you.

“This is pathetic i’m sorry…” He shakes his head against your shoulder, hindered slightly by the way his glasses sit on the bridge of his nose.

“Shhh,” You shake your head in tandem with his, leaning your cheek against the side of his head as you rub your hand over his back. “Don’t be silly,”

"You're not pathetic, Spencer," You reassure him, your voice gentle. "Everyone has their own fears and struggles. It takes strength to open up about them."

He takes a deep, shaky breath, trying to compose himself. "I just never thought I'd be so affected by it for this long."

"Trauma doesn't have a set expiration date," you say softly. "It's okay to still be working through things. And you don't have to face it alone."

Spencer finally relaxes a bit in your embrace, allowing himself to accept the comfort you're offering. "Thank you," he mumbles, his voice barely audible against the fabric of your shirt.

“No problem-“ You don’t finish your sentence before the lights come back on, causing you to squint from the sudden brightness.

The sudden light flooding the elevator exposes the position the two of you had found yourself in, your legs tangled together as Spencer sits in your embrace with your arms around his torso and his hands resting limply by your waist.

“See?” You pull his face away from your shoulder gently, leaning back to finally get a fully clear view of his face. “Nothing to worry about,”

“Yeah…” He nods softly, eyes still a little red from holding back his tears, and he sniffles as he pulls away from you properly when the elevator starts moving downwards again.

“Do you want a ride home?” Your invitation is obvious as you two of you pick yourselves up from the floor, your eyes silently encouraging him to accept your proposal.

“I-“ The elevator came to another halt, this time thankfully opening its doors on the ground for the two of you to leave.

He had his train ticket in his pocket, but he was willing to forget it for now.

“That would be great, thank you…”

“No problem Spencer, let’s get outta here,”

He tries to brush aside the way he feels when you call him by his first name, nodding softly with pursed lips.

“Yeah, let’s get out of here…”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #mgg #criminal minds angst #spencer reid angst #asks 🫶

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