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avis-writeshq · 6 months

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03 — labyrinth

summary: “uh oh, i’m falling in love”/“thought the plane was going down, how’d you turn it right around?” pairing: spencer reid x bau!fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, slow burn, mutual pining warnings: drug usage & addiction, talks about relapsing, therapy, tobias hankel, talks about weight (not reader’s), panic attack/night terrors wc: 3.8k a/n: as always, special mention to @astrophileous for beta-reading SPARKS FLY MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST

“Are you okay?” The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them, and you gently lay a hand on Spencer’s forearm. You offer a soft squeeze of reassurance, your gaze meeting his.

He nods dismissively, averting his eyes but not shrugging your hand away. His tone is cold as he responds, “I’m fine.”

You know better than to believe him. Ever since his kidnapping a few short weeks ago, he’s been acting strangely. His eyes are sunken, bloodshot most of the time, with dark bags beneath them. He’s lost weight, not that he wasn’t already skinny to begin with, but he’s thinner than usual. He gets distracted more easily, he doesn’t spout out about random facts or statistics, and he’s now almost always irritated about something.

He’s been spending more and more time at your apartment, not that you don’t blame him. The two of you would spend your mornings at the dining table, eating half-stale cereal and sipping coffee from the premium machine you splurged on a couple years ago. The closeness is nice, and at times it feels a little too domestic to be platonic, but you’ve learned to control yourself around him.

You open your mouth to say something else (you’re mainly hoping to call him out on his behaviour), but he moves his other hand on top of yours, lightly pressing your fingers. Your mouth goes dry and your cheeks flush at the contact, effectively making you go quiet. He glances at you, his face softening and for a moment you could have sworn you saw the ‘old Reid’ resurface.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers into your ear, his voice wavering with each syllable. “I’m fine. I promise.”

Even before you were a profiler, you prided in being able to read people well. Spencer is no exception to this; he’s always been easy to read, and his tells are only obvious to the trained eye. In other words, in your long five years of knowing him, you could smell his lies from a mile away. You don’t comment on it, just allowing yourself to bask in the comfort of his touch and the warmth he exudes.

The two of you head off to work minutes later, climbing into your car with you in the driver’s seat. He holds your hand the entire time.

***

Spencer thinks he’s going to throw up. The moment he gets onto the plane, he thinks he’s going to hurl. He locks himself into the bathroom, fumbling with the little vials of clear liquid in his satchel. He doesn’t know how long he can keep this a secret for– he’s always been a bad liar– especially from a team of profilers. He gathers that they probably already know.

His vision blurs and his head grows foggy as soon as he feels the liquid enter his bloodstream. He squeezes his eyes tightly, relishing in the artificial feel of serenity when there’s a knock on the door.

“Uh… Spencer?”

Fuck, he wants to scream as he scrambles to put everything back in his bag. Not you. Anybody but you.

“In– in a minute,” he responds hurriedly, flushed and woozy from his high. He feels nauseous again and he wonders if he should actually just throw up to make the story more believable.

“Um, okay? I was a little worried; you’ve been in there for a while. Did you need anything?” You ask again through the door as quietly as possible, glancing at where the team were sitting. “Water? Tea?”

He swings the door open, and his voice is a lot harsher than he expected it to be. “I’m fine.”

He almost misses the way you step back uncertainly, and the way your fingers twitch at your side. Almost. He knows you don’t believe him. He knows that you know him better than anyone and at times it scares him. He feels like Pandora’s Box and it’s only a matter of time before you release the demons within him. His heart lurches as he watches the way your face falls into confusion and hurt– hurt that he is responsible for.

“I’m fine,” he repeats, softer now. “Just– just tired.”

He watches as you pause and give him a once over. His breath hitches in his throat as he feels your eyes over every inch of him, and for a second he feels incredibly exposed.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” You say slowly, cautiously, and you reach a hand out to gently graze against his forearm. “I’m here for you.”

The contact is enough to get him to calm down, and his shoulders visibly relax and his eyes close for a moment. He nods, looking at you with a softness he didn’t even know he could muster.

“I know,” he responds, touching his fingers to yours. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” you respond with a smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. You pause for a moment before nodding towards the seats of the plane.

Spencer follows you there, sitting beside you and as he relishes in your warmth and, in your company, he doesn’t feel quite as lost. The nausea begins to dissipate and he suddenly feels a lot lighter– and it’s not because of the drugs. This is different, a better different. A different he could get used to. The pressure from the plane doesn’t seem to affect him as much anymore, and his ears are no longer ringing.

He leans into your touch, his head pressed against your shoulder and his eyes begin to close. He feels your fingers gingerly hold his own, squeezing lightly in an effort to help him relax. It works. It always works. He feels the way your thumb grazes against the back of his hand and he feels both full of air and breathless at the same time.

“You okay?” You ask into his hair, continuing to rub your thumb back and forth against his hand.

He nods, not being able to bring himself to speak. He’s tired, so unbelievably tired, and he thinks that if he speaks he’ll begin to cry. He doesn’t realise that his grip on your hand has tightened.

“I’m not going to leave you.” He hears you whisper, squeezing his hand back.

He only brings himself to nod again, trying desperately to ignore the way his heart flutters in his chest. Uh oh. He’s falling in love.

***

Spencer knocks on your door at half past two in the morning, eyes bloodshot and feeling as if he was suffocating. He doesn’t want to be alone. At least, he doesn’t right now. He would usually enjoy the feeling of solace, considering that it was unlikely he would be able to experience those moments, but lately it feels as though he is lost inside of his own mind. He misses the moments where his head would swirl with unnecessary statistics, or random animal facts that he knows you adore. Now, the only thing stuck in his mind is the rush of the high– and the plummeting feeling of the low.

He holds a breath as he watches your feet come to a stop at the door before the doorknob jiggles and opens. His eyes hesitantly meet yours and he swallows thickly.

“Can I come in?” He asks, the words barely a whisper.

“Yeah,” comes your response, and you open the door a little wider. “Yeah, Spence, of course.”

He watches as you boil water and prepare two cups of tea– one chamomile and the other peppermint. He sits on the couch, fiddling with his fingers and his eyes darting around nervously.

“Spencer.”

Your voice echoes through the room, and suddenly he feels very grounded. He forces his eyes to meet yours and he feels himself stop breathing. Have you always been this beautiful?

“You haven’t been yourself lately,” you say, setting down the cup of peppermint tea in front of him. “Talk to me.”

He laughs humourlessly, sipping at the scalding tea and he grimaces at the burning sensation. “You sound like a therapist.”

“I studied as one,” you counter, dipping your teabag up and down in the cup. “The others… they can’t say anything. But I’m leaving the BAU soon, so I’m technically allowed to ask you this without any federal obligations.”

“I don’t know–” he begins to deny, but stops short at the way you give him a warning look.

“You’re high right now, aren’t you? And you were on the plane.” Your tone isn’t accusatory, but he expects it from the words that leave your lips. Your gaze softens as you continue. “It’s because of him, isn’t it?”

He flinches and he knows there’s no way out of it. “I tried.”

“I know.”

“I just– I can’t and I want to and I wish that I was… that I was stronger.”

“You are strong.”

He shakes his head. “I should be able to get over this. Get over everything he did to me.”

“Spencer, you were kidnapped and drugged and then you came back to the BAU like nothing even happened.” You pause and lick your bottom lip. “No one is expecting you to get over it, especially not this quickly.”

He doesn’t respond, a strange sense of deja vu filling him at your words and he sits rigid on the couch with his hands in his lap. His eyes don’t leave your face, his gaze shifting from your eyes to the curvature of your nose and then to your lips. For a split second, he wonders how they would feel against his, or how they’d feel against his neck. His head goes heavy at the thought and he pushes them away.

You don’t seem to notice where his eyes have settled, or you’re very good at acting as if he isn’t staring at your face because you continue to speak. “Well,” you say slowly, putting the cup of tea onto the table, “it’s a good thing I’m leaving the BAU then, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know if I can do this job without you,” he confesses, shifting his eyes downcast as he stares into his tea.

You laugh a little, and he thinks it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. “You act as if I’m dying or something.”

“I’m serious,” he presses, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I want to be happy for you. And I am! But at the same time I feel– I feel so selfish for wanting you to stay.”

He feels you sit beside him and he instinctively leans into your touch, burying his face into the space between your neck and shoulder.

“It’s not your fault, Spence,” you whisper, rubbing comforting circles on his back. “And I’m always going to be there for you. Promise me you’ll remember that?”

He nods deftly into your neck, breathing in the smell of your perfume.

“Spencer.”

“Promise,” he mumbles, an arm wrapped around your waist. “I know. I promise.”

You hum in acknowledgement. “Good.”

There’s a lull in the conversation, but for once it’s no longer the uncomfortable silence you were tormented with back home. You could feel everything from his hot breath on your neck to the way his fingers squeeze your sides as if you’d disappear if he held you any looser.

“We still need to talk about this whole issue at some point though. You know that, right?” You murmur into his hair.

“I know.”

“We don’t have to talk about it now.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to stay over?”

“… please.”

***

It has been two weeks since you finished up at the BAU and started work at a clinic, working as a children’s therapist. It’s been a good change of pace for you; a lot slower and much more routinely. The hours are a million times better, and you find that you’re able to get home before seven on most days. The amount of free time that’s been handed to you is something to get used to, now that it’s no longer filled with completing paperwork or getting onto a plane.

Despite all the positives, it feels strange not seeing your former team everyday. It feels strange not being able to see Penelope’s brightly coloured outfits, or Derek’s dumb jokes. You missed Emily’s sarcasm and JJ’s stories about Henry, and you missed seeing Hotch’s rare smiles whenever he sees someone in his team succeeding. A lot of the time you find yourself craving Rossi’s famous pastas accompanied with special wine. But most of all, you miss seeing Spencer in his element every single day.

He’s been doing better, or so he says. He’s been going to self-help groups and you’ve been sending him summaries of help books written by former addicts. It seems to have helped because he’s been acting more and more like Spencer Reid than a weird limbo version of him. He still spends a lot of time at your place, sleeping on your couch despite your constant protests. He ends up taking turns with you after you bribed him with multiple chocolate donuts.

Although he insists that he’s been doing better, his constant night terrors say otherwise and more often than not you find him sweating and sobbing in his sleep. Today is no different.

“Spencer,” You whisper, shaking his shoulder firmly. “Spence!”

He jolts awake, sitting up so quickly he almost knocks his forehead with yours. He groans, his fingers flying to his eyes as he rubs them. Fresh tears slip past his closed eyes, spilling down his cheeks and you pull him into your arms.

“You’re okay, I got you,” you murmur, rubbing soothing circles against his shoulder blade as he sobs.

He keeps repeating the words “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I don’t want it” as he sobs against your shoulder, clutching your shirt in the palms of his hands.

“Breathe in,” you guide gently, running your free hand through his hair, “breathe deep… breathe out…”

He takes in a shaky breath before exhaling through sobs but he continues to follow your guide. He wraps around you tightly, taking deep breaths in before releasing them. After a few minutes of steady breathing, he finally speaks.

“I relapsed yesterday.”

He expects you to push him off and start screaming. He expects you to start yelling at him for not being able to control himself and for wasting all his progress. He reckons he deserves it. But you don’t do any of those things.

“That’s okay,” you respond, squeezing his hand. “Have you talked to Meredith about it?”

Meredith Gray is a therapist you introduced Spencer to. She’s a good friend of yours and specialises in addictions as well as post traumatic stress disorder, and she even wrote her final thesis about it. Even though you work in different fields, the jobs cross over a lot when there’s speculation that a parent could be sick. After explaining the situation to her, Meredith was more than willing to take Spencer as a client.

Spencer shakes his head, the guilt creeping into his chest and lacing his words. “No… I have an appointment with her tomorrow though.”

“Okay, good,” you nod, continuing to rub soothing circles on his back. “Relapsing is normal. It’s just another step to healing.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise.”

“But–”

“It’s normal,” you repeat firmly. “You acknowledged it, and you told me. That’s good, Spence, better than most people.”

He’s quiet, his nose brushing against the soft skin of your neck before he speaks again. “Did you know I’m scared of elevators?”

You can’t help but laugh at the change of conversation and you squeeze his hand. “No, I didn’t.”

“Morgan and I got caught in one the other day. On a case,” he muses. “On average, elevators are inspected once or twice a year, but some could go up to three years without inspection. There are approximately ten thousand elevator related injuries per year, and twenty seven deaths.”

“Now I’m never going into an elevator again,” you respond with jest, poking his cheek. “It’s late. Take the bed, Walter.”

He huffs. “It’s your turn.”

“You need it more than me.”

“I’m not fragile.”

“I never said that you are.”

“(Y/N).”

You give him a pointed look. “Spencer.”

He stares at you for a moment, holding your gaze before he swallows and looks away. You watch the way his Adam Apple bobs in his throat and you suddenly feel faint.

“Take the bed, Walter,” you repeat, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “Please?”

He says your name again, and he reaches up to rest his fingers against the collar of your pyjamas. Your breath hitches and you can’t help the way your cheeks grow warm and your head starts to spin. His touch is gentle, his fingers brushing against the skin of your shoulder. You resist the urge to shudder as you relish his skin against yours.

“Stay with me,” he murmurs, pleading, and his eyes glance from your collar to your eyes.

“You hate sharing beds,” you remind him.

His thumb grazes against your jaw and his face is so close to yours you could count his eyelashes. If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought that he was going to kiss you. But you do know better, so you avert your gaze and push the thoughts out of your mind. An indescribable look flickers on his face but it is gone as quickly as it had appeared.

“It’s okay if it’s you,” he says earnestly, and you find yourself agreeing because how could you say ‘no’ to that?

You climb into bed, one leg outside of the covers because everything felt so warm, especially with his arm wrapped around your middle and his breath against your shoulder. The thin line between platonic and romantic love has blurred indefinitely now, and at times like these you feel as if it has disappeared entirely. Guilt creeps into your veins as you feel him bring you closer to him, his nose buried into your shoulder. Is this considered coercing? He’s in the middle of healing, working towards sobriety, and here you are taking advantage of his vulnerability. Well, technically you’re not ‘taking advantage’ of him if he seeks you out first but it still feels inherently wrong. Morally wrong, maybe.

It takes you another thirty minutes to fall asleep, your head rushing with thoughts and questions as you do. He’s gone when you wake up in the morning.

***

“Someone is looking happy,” Derek comments with a teasing grin, slinking an arm around Spencer’s neck.

It has been about a week since the ‘sleep in the same bed’ incident and he was promptly whisked away to a case in Nevada. He felt guilty about the whole ordeal, considering he wasn’t in his right state of mind at the time. It still made him feel like a sleazy college student who had a one night stand with some random person and then bolted (even though there was no contact of that sort that night). Despite his initial guilt, his head is spinning with the sheer peace and comfort that he experienced when he was sleeping in the same bed as someone. And that someone was you! He could barely even believe it. It all felt so right and perfect… and the way you would shuffle closer at times… it was enough to get his heart racing (he thinks that it’s terribly cliche and horribly cringe-worthy, but therapy has told him that he needs to ‘embrace’ his gross sappy feelings).

“What? No– I mean yes but–” Spencer coughs in response to Derek’s teasing, clutching the strap of his shoulder bag.

Derek cackles at his fumbling, grinning ear to ear. “Alright, so… is it a girl?”

“What?!” He shrieks, his voice raising by two octaves as he does. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Oh so there is a girl,” Emily joins in with a smirk.

“There is– there is no girl,” he responds briskly, his cheeks burning in embarrassment.

Derek hums in thought, a mischievous look in his eye. “Did you catch up with Lila again?”

“No!” Spencer bristles at the thought. Ever since he almost destroyed his friendship with you over her, he hasn’t even bothered to give her a call. “I haven’t seen her since her since– since her case.”

“What about that girl you picked up at a bar?” Emily offers with a sly laugh. “What’s her name again?”

“Austin,” Spencer recalls instantly, his cheeks flaring up again as soon as she says her name. “B-but I haven’t spoken to her either!”

JJ rounds the corner, all too happy to join in the fun (much to Spencer’s chagrin). “I bet it’s (Y/N),” she says with a knowing smirk.

Spencer considers his brain to be a well oiled machine of facts and logic. It’s one of the only things he could rely on– and the only thing people seem to respect him for. As of late, his ‘well oiled machine’ hasn’t been functioning as well as he would have liked, but that doesn’t mean it’s not functioning at almost full capacity. But JJ’s comment, no matter how well functioning his brain was, rendered him speechless.

“Looks like you hit the nail on the head, JJ,” Derek cackles, clapping Spencer’s shoulder.

He lets out a small grunt at the contact, almost stumbling over his feet before he catches himself. “There is nothing going on between (Y/N) and I. We’re just friends.” The words taste bitter on his tongue and he resists the urge to cringe.

“Sure,” Emily says with a short laugh. “Totally believe you. How long did it take for you to realise you’re in love with her?”

JJ snickers along. “Yeah, before or after you had that make out session with Lila?”

Spencer groans at their relentless teasing, covering his face with his hands as they walk along to the bullpen. They’re definitely a lot calmer once they enter their official place of work, but it still doesn’t stop the way they poke fun at him through sly smiles and tasteful words.

“There’s nothing going on between us,” Spencer reiterates with a frown. “She knows just how difficult this job is; she doesn’t deserve to have to deal with it again.”

“Isn’t she the one who’s supposed to decide that?” Emily asks gently, no more teasing in her tone. She’s always been good at giving advice.

He pauses at that, a frown etched upon his features. His mind rushes with memories; the constant leaving, the torture, the trauma, the drugs… his fingers run through his hair.

“It’s not a good time right now,” he explains softly.

“When will it ever?”

He doesn’t meet her gaze.“I don’t know.”

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#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #mgg #mgg x reader #taylor swift #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fluff #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds x reader fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader angst #criminal minds angst #criminal minds x reader angst

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girlyteengirl16 · 5 months

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im tired of being mad

#mentally unstable #trauma #i wanna kms #tw depressing stuff #i want to be okay #this account is a cry for help pls help me #pls help me i’m not okay #i’m severely depressed #i’m going to relapse soon #help me pls lol #lolz #tw depressing thoughts #mental abuse #mentally tired

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forbidden-sin-bin · 7 months

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Sex and Filthy Smut headcanons

(Eminem x F!Reader Hc’s and drabbles)

Rated: E for explicit… no wait, this needs an X rating for possibly being the filthiest thing I’m gonna write in my life. God save my soul (probably not but hey at least I asked)

Warnings: I mean… look at the title. Need I say more??? Smut. Sex. Lovemaking, Intercourse. Whatever the hell you wanna call it. The whole 10 yards is here. It’s porn, not gonna lie at all.

Tags/Keywords: Smut, Heavy Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, fluff, fluff and smut, Pre-established relationship, Sexual Content, Kink, Overstimulation, Dom/Sub, BDSM, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Oral Sex, Giving/Receiving, Healthy Relationships, Feel Good, Everything sinful under the sun is found here, Author is going to hell, anyone who reads this is coming with me

A/N: Yes yes, ain’t no fuckbuddies or friends with benefits headcanons here, sue me. There is NO angst or sadness here. None, zero, zilch. Those kinds of relationships almost NEVER end well 98% of the time. This is all about you and him ONLY. Give it up for romance y’all.

Not gonna lie, there might've been more I wanted to add to this hellfire list of headcanons but once you've seen how much stuff there is below I hope you'll forgive me for finally putting this out here.

I hope by reading this, will provide you with comfort and satisfaction.

VERY special thanks to @smutty-books for beta reading and feedback along with helping me with this monster of a list! Please check them out and show them some love! (Seriously thank you Smutty for the additional ideas and content. you made this Hc's list a million times better and twice as much content included.)

(WARNING: Past this point is VERY EXPLICIT CONTENT. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.)

General HC's:

Oh boy. Oh boy oh boy ohhhhhh boy.

You want sum fuk? You got sum fuk and way more.

As long as you’re his s/o, congrats on your sex life being absolutely demolished and rebuilt by this man. You’ll probably never find a better person in the bedroom for the rest of your life. It literally doesn’t matter if he’s your boyfriend or your husband, sex is a staple activity in your relationship that you both enjoy.

Fast and rough? Slow and steady? Maybe a little bit of both? You bet he’ll be saying fuck yeah to all of those.

His sex drive has always been relatively quite high, even after all these years. Being 50 and counting ain’t gonna stop him anytime soon.

Can, and will, want to fuck you on any and every surface of the house.

Living room couch? Perfect spot for bouncing in his lap or to blow him hard.

Dining room table? He’ll have you either bent over and railing you from behind or sitting on top while he devours your dripping wet pussy.

Taking a shower? You’ll be saving water if you do it together… yeah. Definitely not because of at least a half dozen things you can do in there with soothing hot water pouring down your bodies.

In the studio?…

Okay maybe not the studio he’s gotta work without getting distracted and lord save you two if anyone finds a sliver of evidence that you two fucked in there-

Not a PDA guy much, which also extends to any sexual antics outside. He won’t be taking any risks getting the two of you caught lacking

As long as you two are in the house, it’s free game

His views and methods of sex vary depending on which era we’re talking about

If he were in his 1999’s/2000’s era, then yeah, absolute horndog. He’s constantly so busy and on the move, sex would be a quick trip and onto the next. It would’ve scratched the itch, but arguably wouldn’t have sated his appetite for long. If he ever had a chance to have a good, drawn out sex session, it’ll leave him looking like he had a serious hangover but he’ll be waking up so relaxed.

Him being quick to fuck around and quick to leave was his style pre-Relapse. It’s a common thing you see around music artists in general and he was no exception. That doesn’t mean he was closed off to finding an actual solid relationship, it just becomes that much harder to find someone genuine. Most of the time though, he was busy putting out albums and producing music with a 9 to 5 regimen.

Post-Relapse/Recovery Em had insane stamina due to the excessive amount of exercise he put in. Call me insane, but I have a feeling this may be the time where he had the least amount of sex drive-

NOW HOLD ON HEAR ME OUT

He was starting out his sobriety around this time, I’m no expert but I would have to think that he hasn’t fucked or hooked up with anyone since then cause sex may have been a risk or his body was recovering, therefore most likely putting sex as a low priority. That isn’t to say he wasn’t busting a nut oh no, he probably became best friends with his hands again.

The time between Rap God/Monster Era was slowly building back up his drive, transitioning him to the Revival/Present Day era where he’s back on his blue-balling bullshit. Mans been practically putting out mating calls in his music and in interviews I mean COME ON HAVE YOU SEEN IT

He’s wise enough to not be caught slipping with hoes cause he won’t be caught with those hoes. At all. He’s not a hoe fucker no more. You heard him.

Finding an actual healthy relationship with one person? Someone give it to him, now.

(Anyone who remembers that one shot in that Rainy Days behind the scenes video where he points the camera to his crotch and says “EVERYTHING is for sale.” If that isn’t a man in heat I dunno what is; And that’s just one example out of many lemme tell you)

THE POINT IS, HE CAN GO FOR ONE ROUND, OR MANY, MANY MORE.

He’s determined to make you feel good more than him, but he’ll absolutely be having fun with how you’re gonna come. He’ll love exploring your body, finding out every little spot that gives you shivers down your spine.

Oh yeah, did I mention that he's got a big dick? He's got a big dick.

Don't try to deny it when you can't help but glance at his crotch all the time. It might be bias, or it might be fact that you can see the bulge in his pants.

Dom/Sub Roles:

He’s a dom, no question about that. Most of the time he’s a soft dom, not overwhelmingly asserting himself over you but firm enough to have you listen to him. Of course, he’ll be praising you a ton if you’re doing good and listening. But if you’re acting a little bratty, a little petty… yeah, he’ll make you behave, let’s just leave it at that.

Enjoys having you bent over his knee while he fingers your pussy, making sure you’re all nice and ready for him to enjoy.

If you squirm too much, expect a light spanking and a firm reminder to behave.

Again, not over the top with his dominance, cause at the end of the day, he wants to take care of you, to make you feel comfortable and show you how much he loves you. So praising isn’t just a dom thing, it’s genuinely how he expresses his affection to you.

If you insist on it, he can go even harder as a dom, upping his antics and getting off on seeing you beg for relief. Punishments will be even meaner and if you slip up even just a little, looks like you’re gonna have to start all over. No amount of pleading, teary whines from you will get him to change the cold, hard look in his eyes as he’s watching you.

Absolutely insistent on a safe word, no matter the situation.

Marshall’s immediately shifting to a protective, nurturing caretaker the moment your safe word leaves your lips and making sure your needs are met, completely understanding and shushing any apologies that threaten to leave your mouth for ruining the moment. You come first and foremost.

Amazing with aftercare. Will make sure that you’re okay and well taken care of after a session, praising you lovingly as he holds you close. If it was particularly intense, he’ll be checking in on you for the next day or so whilst feeling quite proud of himself that he can reduce you to a begging, dripping mess yesterday night. But he's by far more proud of you for trusting him and letting him experience you in such a vulnerable position.

All it takes is for him to say: "Such a good girl" and you're all his. (Can't blame you honestly-)

He'll be using your petnames even outside of your passionate sessions, even if it's just coming home to greet you after a day of work or passing by each other in the house to do something, a quick: "Hey peaches" or "How's my babygirl?" never fails to want to leave you smiling shyly, even after a bad day.

While being a sub is not what he would usually do at all, it’s not impossible. Once he’s far into a relationship with you and fully comfortable, he might actually give in to your insistence.

He has a need to feel like he’s in control, like he’s leading; Being on the opposite end is a big deal for him, so if he ever subs it’s a huge fucking compliment and privilege that shows how much he trusts and loves you to bare himself to you.

He’ll definitely be grumbly about it tho, and probably trying to act all teasing at your attempt to dominate him. But once you get past that first phase and he lets himself relax and give into your control… he doesn’t want to admit it, but he feels so fucking secure with you.

When he fully gives in, he’s preening and leaning into your touch. He’ll be such a good boy under your lavish praise and having all of your attention on him.

It feels almost foreign, not being the one in charge and making all the decisions for once. But once he gets used to it, he'll be doing whatever he can to receive your approval.

Seeing him at your mercy, letting you take the reins, makes it your priority to see him come undone by your command, holy shit, it's fucking beautiful.

If he's up for being a little more bratty (not unlike he's been on his petty shit for decades as his core personality trait let's be real here) and expecting to be punished and/or your dominance be harsher, the thought of pushing you to your limits with how much you're willing to keep up with him makes him really, really excited on the inside.

It’s both of your secrets, so don’t fuck it up, a'ight?

Teasing/Body Parts:

Speaking of secrets… he’s incredibly private, but at the same time, don’t be surprised if he ends up writing lyrics that may or may not allude or be inspired by your sex lives. You swear this man will be the death of you, smug bastard.

If you’re ever turned on by listening to his music or his voice, it’ll be such a massive ego boost for him, holy shit. No need to feel embarrassed, cause he’s fucking flattered.

Even tho his residence is far from any neighbors (and definitely soundproof), he’s got a playlist for your ears to get aroused to.

Imagine Marshall whispering in your ear or talking in that low voice of his and well damn now you’re horny is an understatement of the goddamn century.

And it’s not just you! Marshall gets off hearing you moan like crazy, another sign that lets him know he’s doing a damn good job. Hearing you whimpering gets him going, but making you scream? Jackpot.

Unsurprisingly to a lot of y’all, but he loves tits. He loves ass for sure, but feeling your breasts is just- Yes.

Love fondling them, licking, biting, sucking, you name it.

Now do the same for him-

OKAY OKAY HEAR ME OUT HAVE YOU SEEN THIS MAN’S PECS

MAN’S GOT HUGE FUCKING HONKERS. HOLY SHIT.

(No wonder he’s such a titty guy-)

But seriously, play with his chest and he’ll be moaning and writhing under you. Music to your ears.

Rest assured your ass will not be forgotten or neglected. No fucking way he’ll ever leave any part of you un-worshipped. Even when you’re just passing each other around the house he’ll playfully slap or squeeze your ass with a smirk. Cheeky fucker.

May or may not prompt him to just throw you down and pin you against whatever furniture is closest and have his way with you right then and there.

Or it could be the other way around! You can't help but give his sexy behind a mischievous swat or grab, or his pecs. He'll probably pretend to be miffed but you'll be catching him returning the smirk you have on your face. Oh, by all means, have your way with him right then and there as well. Equal rights, equal sexy times.

Grabbing your backside and pulling you closer to him, pressed against his chest and his growing bulge in his pants oh sweet Jesus-

Will for sure spank you while you’re riding him or he’s railing you from behind, the sounds of skin slapping against skin while he sees your ass jiggle with every thrust is just so fucking hot

He wants to reach deep down, as far as his cock can reach, nothing in the house is safe from him pounding your pussy and giving you a creampie.

Speaking of that, He LOVES to come into you or on you. It gives him a feeling of claiming what's his. Anytime he sees his cum dripping outta you or running down your skin, Marshall’s ready to go again.

Or he could use a sex toy, making sure his cum stays inside and your pussy ready for him in a few.

Kinks

We’ve already covered the dom/sub parts, but there is SO much potential for other kinks that you and him can get into so let’s get right into it

Breeding Kink:

I mean how can we not start this off without mentioning that

Can, and will ram you harder and faster than a piston AND make sure you both cum multiple times

If you’re walking the next morning, that means he failed the assignment so now he’s boutta rectify that

Dirty talk is cranked to a hundred as he’s growling in your ear on how much of a slut you are for his seed, how he’ll fill you up and make sure your womb is carrying his baby, how gorgeous you would look with your belly swollen with your little creation, etc.

Even if he’s sure that he doesn’t want anymore kids (given his age or experience, which is understandable), imagine the baby fever he gets when he sees or imagines you with kids

He’s perfectly happy with just you and him, but the possibility of you, him, and maybe a little one you made together from your love? His pupils are dilating like a cat getting ready to pounce

Even if the possibilities are extremely unlikely, the mere thought of it and he’s giving you the 🥺 eyes. (Every time you see him make those eyes at you, it’s probably cause he’s feelin the breeding urge)

If you're not able to, that doesn't change a thing; he wants to make you feel like you're his no matter what, and you are! He loves you for you.

Obsessed with coming inside you after railing you into the mattress, filling you to the brim with his seed

Loves giving you a creampie and then watching it leak out of your pussy, might take the initiative to stuff his spilling cum back into you

Or he could just fuck you at multiple different times during the day like the stud he is

Hell he may as well just not pull out and you’ll both be falling asleep still connected

You'll be waking up with his member engorged and slowly thrusting in you while he nuzzles into you, taking in your scent, kissing your lips so softly until you both cum. After that he takes you to the shower and you both wash each other

Loves marking your skin with his mouth, letting anyone know that your his and his only

Your cunt and everything else is thoroughly satisfied every time the breeding kink comes on don’t you worry about that honey

Size Kink:

Hey don't judge his 5'7 ass. Marshall's got other big things minus his height; Big hands, big ears, HUGE CO-

If you're smaller than him: He praises you for taking him in so well, whispers words of encouragement with every inch he pushes into you until you can feel his tip brushing against your cervix. Doesn't want to overdo it in fear of hurting you, but with your insistence he'll be going all out in due time

If you're taller than him: He LOVES it. No cap you being taller or bigger than him is so fucking sexy. Makes him more eager to make you come and more confidence in exploring different ways to do so

Takes a hand in yours and guides you both to press against your stomach, feeling for his cock thrusting into you

Praises you constantly as he feels your walls stretch around him so perfectly

Once you feel like you can take all of him, all of his restraint is gone as he pounds your sopping wet cunt relentlessly

Body worshipping is a must regardless of size

Feral/Primal Kink:

You know how possessive he can be, and that still translates to the bedroom. Even when he knows you're his, he can't help but feel turned on by his possessiveness for you.

And when you're all his, he can go fucking. Crazy.

It's also the dom feeling in him as well, but he has a need to claim you: Not out of insecurity, but out of his desire to make sure you know how much he loves you.

Likes biting your ear as an affectionate gesture. Sometimes he enjoys lightly tugging as a playful gesture to get you riled up.

Marshall thinks the growling thing is dumb as hell but if you're into that he'll try to give you some throaty growls in your ear, but expect him to start cracking up at his attempts until he's used to it

He thinks he can't do it yet he doesn't realize the low rumble in his throat whenever he gets a jealous streak

Voice/Audio Kink:

Well, well, WELL. Someone's ego is about to be stroked harder than his cock for once

He’ll absolutely be moaning and grunting more often when you guys have sex

Jokingly asks if you want to put some music on before you start fucking though he probably cringes listening to his own music during sex

Definitely ruins the mood for him when he hears someone that collabed with him on one of his songs or if any of his lyrics mention things that he doesn't want to think about when horny

Whenever he asks what you're listening to and hears one of his songs, he can't help but inwardly smile or smirk with pride. "Good choice." He nods, keeping his face unreadable.

If he catches you listening to FACK he just starts dying with laughter and dying on the inside simultaneously

No but seriously, he's super fucking flattered knowing how much his music or just his voice turns you on

Whispers in your ear during sex, either praising, teasing, or telling you what to do

He'll be observing which tone provokes the biggest reaction out of you so he can remember it for future reference

(People working with him in the studio are gonna be wondering why he's so close to the mic while recording recently)

Might record something just for your ears to listen to when you guys are apart ;)

Sex Positions

Missionary:

Ah, the OG.

Ranging from being the most vanilla to literally breaking the bed and making the house shake. Most people’s go-to position and Marshall is no different.

He’s got full access to your face, neck, and breasts while he pounds you into the mattress, absolutely loves it and it’s no surprise.

Is eye contact a kink? He’ll be wanting to look you in the eyes no matter the pace you’re going. Additionally may often include forehead touching and/or nose nuzzling. Incredibly hot and intimate.

If he’s feeling extra curious or dominant, he might even push your legs back and over his shoulders to reach even deeper into you. (In other words, putting you in a mating press.) You ain’t walking for a few days after this. Catch his freaky ass all smug n shit.

Slow and intimate in this position is SO fulfilling. It’s like baring your souls to one another.

Going fast and rough is just straight up a joyride and a half. It feels carnal in the best way possible.

Overall you can’t fuck this up really. It’s missionary for crying out loud.

Doggystyle:

*clears throat* Ahem. BARK BARK WOOF WOOF

If you haven’t seen my fic Heat yet, it’s basically me writing smut for the first time in this position but taken to the next level. Should hint at a lot on what imma bout to say tbh

YES. HELL YES. PLEASE LET HIM RAM INTO YOU FROM BEHIND. HE’LL BE POUNDING INTO YOU SO FUCKING HARD

If you go face down on the bed, ass up? Holy shit

Expect bruises on your hips the next morning… also a very horny man ready to go again or to absolutely worship the fuck outta you for taking it so fucking amazingly

He'll be running a bath for you, being extra doting and attentive, the whole nine yards while also feeing that masculine satisfaction™ at the fact that he's able to get you to that state of bliss.

By far the most feral position. If he’s got a breeding kink I wish you luck on how many times you’re gonna come and he’s gonna come

If you’re also into taking it in the ass I respect you 👀 kinky motherfucker would love to explore some new ways to fuck

Pronebone is also basically the same as mentioned above, but it’s got that intimate feel, you get me? He’s closer to you whilst also able to attack your neck and shoulders, maybe even have a hot make out session with you while he continues to pound your pussy or ass raw.

As long as you love taking it from behind he’ll be on his knees for you. And on top of you.

Cowgirl/Reverse Cowgirl, You On Top:

Ride him. That’s all I gotta say.

He wants you to ride him. Fuck him silly. He’ll lose it.

It’s a perfect demonstration of him still being the dom. You may be on top, but he’s the one in control.

Might tease you by making you work hard for a reaction outta him. He’ll be pretending to be unimpressed or smug while you bounce in his lap but in reality he’s trying so hard not to break

Either that, or he won’t be holding back on how good you make him feel. Mouth open, quietly moaning, grabbing your ass or your hips.

If he can't take it anymore, he pulls you down to him and holds you tight while he starts bucking his hips, pounding up into you like a piston

Even once you both come he starts back up again before you've even calmed down

Oral (Giving and Receiving)/69:

I mean… are we really gonna question it? Yeah you better give this guy some head he is a slut for it

Give him a blowjob and he’ll be the happiest man alive

You watching his expressions as you’re sucking him off

Might take some practice to take all of him into your mouth cause this man is BIG

Even when he’s got loose sweatpants on you can still see his bulge AND IT’S NOT WHEN HE’S HARD AND HORNY. MARSHALL’S PACKING.

I wish you luck in trying to deepthroat this man

When it comes to oral, he definitely prefers receiving rather than giving

But don’t you DARE underestimate this man’s tongue cause holy fucking hell he’s feasting on your pussy

PLEASE let him suck on your clit while he’s eating you out. That man’s mouth is amazing in many ways for a reason

Imagine having to go out after and if anyone asks him if he wants anything to eat he just replies: “Nah I’m good. I had something earlier.” And then GIVING YOU THE SIDE EYE LOOK-

BEARD. BURN.

Let this man bury his face in between your thighs and imagine the friction of his beard brushing against your skin. If that doesn’t make you cum then him lapping you up will guaranteed

69 turns into a competition to see who can get the other to cum first, or a comforting session of tasting each other

Standing:

Y'all know he can do it pinning you against a wall. Thanks 8 Mile

As hot as it is, take care as not to have your head or back bang against it

Great for quickies but probably not for a long time; You gotta give his back a break lmao

Hugging your waist from behind tho :eyes:

Add a mirror on both opposite ends of the wall and you can watch him thrust into you

He's holding you real tight and close, making sure to hold you up so your legs won't buckle

Spooning:

Feelin real cozy

It can be lazy morning sex; Intimate and gentle as he places kisses behind your ear and buries his face into your neck while he does long, deep strokes in and out of your walls

Or it can be rough: Holding your thigh up while his hips violently thrust into you, only stilling when he comes after you

Another way is his cock slipping between your thighs and humping you eagerly, or his cock rutting against your ass

Push your hips back in time with his thrusts for deeper penetration or the sound of your skin slapping against each other

His hands clutching your hips or grabbing your breasts as he moans in your ear, feeling his cock twitching with his release

- - -

ALRIGHT TIME TO STOP HERE I’VE BEEN KEEPING THIS IN MY DRAFTS FOR MONTHS Anyways hope y’all enjoyed this and then some <3 I might come back to this and and more so who knows? If you enjoyed let me know your feedback and if you have any suggestions!

#eminem x reader #marshall mathers x reader #eminem imagines #eminem fanfiction #eminem imagine #eminem headcanons #eminem smut #marshall mathers fanfiction #marshall mathers x you #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers headcanons #marshall mathers smut

651 notes · View notes

wizardrousactivity · 3 months

Text

Feel better now?

Warnings: Angst, mating press, mentions of self-harm, mentions of relapsing, Fem!reader

Pairings: König x fem!Reader

Note: I am not very proud of this one because of my STUPID WRITING!!! but I did end up spending 2-3 hours on this so I’m hoping some people would enjoy it. Mwah love you all 2.3k words!

König felt his chest shrivel up once he saw your pouty lips and half-teary eyes, watching you storm out of the room while he was stumped.

Thinking of ways to apologize to his sweet girl flooded his noggin and he threw his hands out and fell back into his chair almost comically, grumbling and getting back to his paperwork while he tried to push away any other thoughts besides the box of his work. You shoved yourself into the bathroom, rubbing your hands all over your face to try to stop the tears that were making your face feel icky. Thrashing around to find your towel, the water running loudly in the background - the sounds couldn’t compare to how loud your thoughts were.

The shower felt harder that day, the water burning the red lines you inflicted on yourself yesterday.

You sat down on the wet floor, head in your palms as you sobbed, the tears falling from your face entwined with the water and vanished along with it. On your knees you grabbed the shampoo - cleaning yourself should never feel this difficult, you’ve grown soft.

Standing up, your body immediately planting itself onto the wall as your knees buckled. Nibbled lips, fingers clasped your mouth. Trying to suppress your gasps and whines. —----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You’ve managed to do your hair and apply lotion to your body, since you’ve fixed yourself - you find that you’re capable enough to make dinner, putting on clothes you just washed, they’re warm and make you feel a bit better. The harm is visible, and you try to forget about it. Too drained to change into other clothes that hide your pink and white scars, busy prodding at your pajama shorts to make them just a little longer, even if it wont make a difference.

Leaving the bathroom you walk into the hallway hoping to see König doing paperwork in his office, or holding out his arms for you. Instead what's in front of you is a closed door, making the air catch in your throat.

The descend down the stairs feels melancholy, you feel as if your brain is off, walking only as if you’re a zombie dedicated to pleasing others. You want to make him happy, make him forget about your previous interaction with the blessing of food.

This week felt like the final straw, constantly trying to please people at your job - you’ve been trying so hard. Nobody was there for you, König looked at you with a face of anger, eyes narrowing yours. Going on about how he has helped you while you try to squeak out your words, and he yelled at you. Piercing and loud, making you tremble as you looked up at him like he had betrayed you. He screamed at himself in his head, scolding himself for lashing out on you. Years of aggression had changed him truly, down to his entire system - he doesn’t know how to respond now.

As soon as your hands touch the stove, you begin shaking, tears running down your face. You couldn’t find the energy in yourself to cook and it made you feel all the more disappointed in yourself, the walls of discipline you’ve built come crashing down.

Nails snuggled firmly into your arms as you sink down onto the floor, hyperventilating in frustration.

You cry into your skin for the umpteenth time, biting into your flesh so the man upstairs doesn’t hear you. Nothing has ever made you feel so useless, and you can't get over that.

A heavy hand on your shoulder makes you jump, interrupting your thoughts. You turn your back slowly, only to see the kindest pair of sleepy eyes looking back at your manic ones. Your eyelids shut tight, hands finding his shirt and pulling him in. “M’ so sorry..” It’s muffled into his shoulder and he pats your back, hands resting at your hips. He shushes you gently, eyes scanning over the numerous scars on your legs that looked almost too fresh - and he swore his heart paused for a second. König punches himself in the head mentally once again, biting his lip. “Not your fault..I shouldn’t have yelled. Shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you.”

Your face digs itself into the small dip between his neck and shoulder, sobbing even harder - gasping for air between them. And he feels like a monster at this point.. “I’m sorry, mein Liebling, don’t waste all your tears on me.” König brings you in even closer, landing sloppy kisses to your forehead and cheeks. "I was wrong, never cry for me like that." He says, reassuring you in a stronger voice, yet it remains soft. König mumbles something under his breath, like he cursed himself forever, never to let you cry over something he failed to do - control his emotions around you.

You grab onto his jaw with need, locking lips with him in vast movements, and he lets it happen. Letting your tongue win the fight for dominance, hand gently resting at the back of your skull, the salty tang of your lips stimulating his organ of taste. But he couldn't care less.

Hums vibrate into your mouth pleasantly, he taps your back to let you know when he needs to breathe.

The kiss is broken after only his lungs start to burn for air, you’re still hungry for more of it. His breathing is heavy as he claws at the soft skin under your shirt, massaging your lower back and pulling you even closer to his warmth, pleasantly surprised at your actions. “Need more-” You hiccupped, mouth-agape with feeble sounds. “Please.”

“More of what? Tell me.”

“Want more of you- Need you.” You confess, and his heart cinches from its beat. Almost seizes to continue at the sight.

He simply nods, picking you up by your waist and putting you up against him - not where you're flat against his chest, holstered up enough so he can kiss your tummy, electrifying butterflies filling your abdomen. König plops you down on the bed, as gentle as he can possibly be - you look like glass to him right now as your legs hang off the side of the bed, you're sitting on the edge of it as he lowers himself.

He’s right in front of you, crouched. He’s kissing your thighs all over, strings of apologies you can’t hear when he runs along one of your scars. “Can I please.. I want to show you how sorry I am.” You know what he’s implying when his eyes drift down to your pussy, clothed but getting absolutely drenched underneath.

“Yes.. please.” A simple sniffle and he’s making snail work of your shorts with little kisses, pulling them off along with your panties. He’s purposely taking it slow with you, testing the waters.

Successfully spreading your thighs, he salivates. One look at your perfekt swollen clit and he’s down on his knees, offering one long lick to the slick heavenly gates. “So good.” He groans, now flicking your bead with his tongue in vast motions - and you mewl out, high pitched and needy. He’s so good at eating your pussy, wrapping his lips around the whole thing once he made you sensitive for it. “König..” A pule of his name leaves your lips, sending blood straight to his cock once again.

You gasp once you realize he’s rolling your hips onto his tongue, making you fuck yourself on his tongue with his hands. “Holy fuck-” Your toes curl, biting your bottom lip. The changes between flicking his tongue and sucking all feed into your upbuilding orgasm.

“König!” He stops abruptly at the last squeal of his name, right at the moment you felt yourself coming undone.

Standing at his full height you pout up at him. “I’m sorry- please, can’t let you cum yet. Need to show you.” He repeats, almost defeatedly, like he wants to fulfill your needs now.

König pulls down his pajama pants down to his ankles, before he positions himself in front of spread legs. Rubbing his tip against your clit, prodding against it deliberately. Making you sob, kick your feet against his back needily. “Uhuh. None of that, you’ll get what you want in a second.” Gentle, affirming.

“Gonna slip this in, slowly. You got that?” He affirms with you, and you're nodding your head urgently. It makes him chuckle, how pliant and needy you are.

You throw your head back once you feel his stretch, a wince passing through your lips. "Er nimmt es so gut auf.." He praises with a moan, a hand gently caressing your collarbone from where he stands.

He’s trying to distract you from the feel of his cock spreading you open, you’ve tightened up so much since the last time.

He finally gets the whole meat slab in with a plap, and you let out a sigh of relief. He finds it really cute, how you struggle beneath it. “You’ve got it.. Good girl, the best.” He dances his hips into yours, balls flat against your ass. “Made for my cock.” “So deep..” Your thighs tighten around him, begging him to start a pace already - the torture of slow, deep thrusts. “Hah- fuck.. Too slow Köni..” Ugh, you’re so fucking cute. Stop it. It’s taking enough of his willpower to not fuck you right into this bed.

“H-Harder..” König chuckles, grinning at how feverish you are. “Dirty girl.” Your knees are then pressed next to your ears, he’s putting you in some sort of mating press - making you swallow in anticipation, a little fear maybe. This position makes him feel deeper than ever, you’re clenching around him.

He swallows. “This is what you want? You can take it?” He doesn’t relent his rolls into you, like this is a casual interaction. “Yes- fuck- Please!” You beg and he immediately complies, making you jump up with every thrust of him into you, heavy balls slapping right against you. “You like this?” He doesn’t even need to have you answer, your mewls are speaking for you.

As soon as he gets you where he wants, a hard thrust is battered into you - making you cry out at the sheer force of it. He’s not cruel though, bending down so you could hold onto his shoulders. He gulps, adams apple bobbing. “This is what you wanted? Tell me, please.” He needs to get confirmation from you, eyes scanning over your face for any signs of discomfort. “Keep going.” You take his breath away, good girl. Taking all of this cock.

He bites his lip, denting your can roughly - the smacking of your skin is loud and sinful. His hands lay planted on your ankles, driving into you like a two dollar whore.

Broken moans escape your mouth as you constantly feel his dick ram against your cervix. ”Gonna show you how sorry I am.” Your body tensed up as you felt your orgasm approaching humiliatingly quick. Your legs tried to kick at something, but that's impossible with them suspended in the air, unable to move.

He just wont stop thrusting either, watching you try to form a sentence underneath him.

Waves of pleasure incinerate through your body, burning your insides with ecstasy and heat. The constant sliding of his shaft against your walls doesn't help it either, he's changed the angle which his dick hits to where its constantly drubbing your g-spot.

"Good- good pussy. I'm' hitting that pillowy spot." He laughs, orgasmic yet a little bit deranged in the middle of sex.

You gasp out, feeling a string in your stomach get unbearably thin. Your pussy clenches, it’s slightly nauseating from how tightly you’ve clamped. He moans, back arching from the feel of you squeezing him dangerously tight. “Fuck yeah, cum for me. Cum for me.. Ja..!” His head is thrown back, lost in just you completely.

The coil finally snaps and you squeal, your juices coming out squelching and running down your ass. You’re drooling, lips coated in saliva. And he just wants to clean up all of that with his kisses, connect your saliva together.

"Ah! König!" You yelp, vision turning white as overwhelming waves of bliss start hitting you like a truck.

Your toes uncurled once you’ve gotten off your high, signs of it still lingering around in your stomach - feels like your pussy is beating as fast and hard as your heart.

But you can’t forget, he’s looking for his release as well. Mouth open and panting above you like a mutt. His moans announce his upcoming orgasm while rutting into your sensitive pussy like a bitch in heat. Your hand comes up to his chest to try and get his pace to relent - but it’s not possible to push past a brick wall. You’ve already started sobbing at this point from the overstimulation, mewls for König to be gentler goes in from one ear out from the other. Or if he can even hear you.

With the clenching of your snatch he's throwing his head back with a broken moan. "Hng-auh..! It's been so long since he's had good pussy like yours, and you best believe he's enjoying himself.

A rumbling deep inside of him, lingers of an upcoming orgasm taking over his well-mannered self. Now his hands have moved up to your ankles, putting himself in a plank and pounding so hard you think you'd die.

König's trying to match your moans like an orchestral performance, seemingly like he's mocking you, yet it's full of honesty and neediness. "Close hmng- yes.. fuck m-" He announces before cutting himself off unplanned, spurting into your storage room with his buttocks clenched forwards to push semen further into you.

The mongrel of the house squeezing your ankles with a sob once he feels his high hit him like it did yours, keeping his shaft nestled in you while he finds himself in ecstasy - unknowing of your suffering from overstimulation beneath him. Beaten and battered pussy.

He doesn’t notice your trembling body underneath him till he hears you let out a feeble sound of his name. Looking down to your shaking legs, thighs covered in your splattered juices. And by god, are you a sight.

“No more..” You mumbled, unable to coherently speak to him anymore. He pulls out of you, a small squelch being heard from how good he's spread you out. "Ja, won't fuck you anymore." He gravely snickered, letting your legs down from the sore position they were in.

König practically purrs out his praises, running his hands up and down your body. “Let’s get you to the bathroom now, a bath?” He suggests, your ears perk up at the sound of a warm bath surrounding your achy body.

Bonus ;)

237 notes · View notes

sukiipjs · 25 days

Text

✮ I DONT WANT TO

°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° . ° .•

↳ nick sturniolo x masc reader

↳ words - 866

↳ summary - nick coming over to help you not give into the urge of relapse. (short little thing 👽)

↳ contains - crying, much talk of self harm, depression, use of y/n, pet names (baby), idk

↳ song - candy by alex g

°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° . ° .•

°:. *₊ ° . ☆

my breath begins shaky, i sit on my bed, leaning against the headboard, banging my head back against the wall. my hands cover my mouth as i try to catch my breath and be quiet as tears stream down my face.

i don’t know what’s happening, the urge is just getting stronger. two months clean, two months, i don’t want to start this over i’m doing so good.

i lean my head down, taking my hands off myself and gripping them into my hair. my knees are bent up by my chest. i try to keep the thoughts down but i know there’s a blade right beside me, so easy to just grab. but i’ll regret it tomorrow, it’s not worth it, i keep telling myself.

my shirts off, my left arm of healed scars out in view. new ones could come at any point, i’d be so easy to do, i’d be so worth it to do… i cry and cry, now banging my head into my knees trying to do anything but give in that bloody urge.

a light finally shines in my head, nick. call nick. i take my hands off me, leaning over to grab my phone… that sits next to that blade. i open my phone, quickly going to call nick, i bring my phone to the side of my face as it rings, waiting for him to answer.

he finally answers after i call him one or two more times, it’s almost midnight so i don’t blame him. “mm.. y/n, you good?” he groans, i hear his blankets shifting on the other side as i try to speak, my voice being caught, being weak. “i- nick- nick please come over,” i manage to get out words, my breaths are short and fast, i wipe my palm on my eyes, trying to swipe off some tears.

“what? why? are you okay? what’s wrong?” he sounds more alert now, more awake as he hears the tone of my voice. “just come over please- i need you okay,” i curl back into myself, knees to my chest, one of my arms wrapping around my legs and the other still holding my phone. “okay, uhm- i’ll be there soon okay? you’ll be okay, yeah?” i nod, though he can’t even see me.

“mhm,” i mumble out, i hear his sheets ruffle again, i assume he stands out of his bed, “here uh, i’ll call an uber and i’ll be out there as soon as i can okay? do you want me to stay on or?” i hear nick still walk around, “you can get off, ill- uh- i don’t know, i’ll see you soon?” i sniffle as nick asks if i’m sure again, but i say i’m fine, i can wait.

we get off and i stay on my bed, waiting for him as i continue crying into my palms. trying to breath, trying to distract myself, trying again, not to give into the urge.

after a few, i hear my door open and nick shout my name. i lift my head from my palms, wiping off my eyes. nick bursts into my room, seeing my crying and panicking on my bed, the blade right next to me on my bedside table. “y/n…” he says softly as he comes onto the bed next to me, quick to wrap his arms around me tightly.

“you’re okay… you’re okay” he say softly, his head resting in the crook of my neck as he slowly rocks me back and forth, one of his hands stroking through my hair. i hold myself onto him too, my head resting by his neck, tears dampening on his shirt.

he moves himself back so he can look at me, “what’s wrong baby…” he asks softly, his hand now on the side of my face, his thumb rubbing tears off my cheek. “i don’t know nick, i just- i don’t want to feel like this… i don’t know what’s happening… i thought i was getting better. i don’t want to nick, i don’t want to…” i cry out, pushing my head onto him again. “shh, you’re okay… i’m with you, i’ve got you. you’re doing the best you can, i know it” his hand brushing against my head, fingers ruffling through my hair more as his chin rests top on my head.

“i- i don’t want to.” my body shakes onto his, his arms squeeze onto me tighter. “you don’t have to okau? i’m here… i’m here for you…” he slowly leans us down, so we lay down on my bed. his arms still holding me as he gives my cheek a kiss before nuzzling his head onto my neck. “i love you so much and i’m here, you’re going to be okay and i’ll help you any way i can.”

i turn to my side, facing nick as i also hold onto him, “i know… and- i love you, i really really love you,” our foreheads press together, as i finally begin to catch my breath more with nick here. we move our bodys, my head beginning to rest on his chest as nick starts falling asleep already, me after him.

☆ °:. *₊ ° . °

taglist : @slutforchriss @mattsleftnipple03 @mattsdinosweater @ccolleenn @mixvchelle @leah-loves-lilies @sturn-wrld @redz0nez9 @cheriematt @freshloveforthefit @nickuniversity @whore4matt @txssvx @teenagetrash00 @matty-bear @venusbabysblog @m0r94n @junnniiieee07 @miloisdone1 @rottingwithglitter @clemlament @tvylorswiftt @krosseyedkori

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justmystyles · 9 months

Note

hi so i have a request!! i’m going thru a bit of a rough time lately, and i was wondering if you could do a fic where reader is scared she’s going to relapse and harry comes home and helps her emotionally a lil bit? thank you so much, i’m so so so so sorry if this is too much

Road to Recovery

read my other work here!

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

*i say it's a plus size reader, but it is not something that i focus on explicitly in my fics, because your size should not define you. it will only come up if it comes into the story organically.*

word count: 2.1k

warnings: mentions of eating disorders and bullying.

summary: after reading some negative comments about yourself, you nearly spiral back into old habits. you try to keep it from Harry, but he finds out and confronts you about it.

a/n: thank yo so much for reaching out, my friend. i am so sorry that you're going through a rough patch right now. i'm thinking of you and sending positive vibes your way. i am here for anything you may need, and i hope that this fic helps bring you come comfort. you didn't specify what kind of relapse, so i took some liberties.

tags: @abby8694 @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @likeapplejuicenpeach @lilfreakjez @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

Stepping out of the car now ;)

As soon as you see the text from Harry, you grab the remote and switch on E!, waiting for him to come up on screen.

It was the night of the Grammy awards, and Harry was about to walk the red carpet. The two of you had been seeing each other for a few months, but because of Harry’s desire to keep his personal life to himself, and your discomfort being in the spotlight, you both agreed that you would watch from the hotel, and he would come straight back to you after the show so the two of you could have your own private after-party.

Harry had stopped for a brief interview, you were pretty sure it was only because he knew you were watching, before continuing down the carpet and heading inside. You watched and listened as the interviewer gushed to him about his album, and wished him luck on his nominations. They then cut to the panelist who were raving about the suit he had worn, that you had helped him select.

Once they had moved on, you pulled out your phone and headed to social media to see what the fans were saying. It was great that the talking heads liked it, but you knew that the opinions of his fans were the most important. You scrolled through comments full of praise, loving the suit, the cut, his hair, and just overall thirsting for your boyfriend. Even though you weren’t public with your relationship, it still felt good to know that you had something, or rather someone, that so many other people wanted.

Then, another tweet caught your eye.

See, they’re obviously not together. She would be there.

Even though Harry didn’t speak openly about your relationship, there had been plenty of paparazzi and fan pictures of the two of you out and about, causing the inevitable speculation. You knew for your own sanity you should just move on, but you couldn’t help but click on it, and read some of the replies.

She probably couldn’t find a dress to fit her fat ass.

I told you guys they were just friends. He can do so much better than her!

Before long, you could feel the hot wet sensation of tears streaming down your cheeks. This was why you shouldn’t have looked. While most of Harry’s fans were good people, and practiced what he preached by treating people with kindness, there was a faction that were just plain mean. Maybe it was jealousy that they couldn’t be in your position, maybe it was their own issues and insecurities, maybe it was all of the above. Whatever it was, it hurt. Especially because of your past.

Growing up was a tough time for you, you were the biggest girl in your class, and your peers wouldn’t let you forget it. During the summer break going into your senior year, you decided you wanted to go out of high school with a bang, so you began your weight loss journey. It started out perfectly fine, you joined a gym and watched what you ate, cutting out fast food, and halving your typical portions of sweets.

Things were going well, and you lost quite a bit of weight in the first few months. When you returned to school in the fall, you received compliments from students and teachers alike, telling you how good you looked. The compliments made you feel really good, and encouraged you on your journey.

And then you hit your plateau.

It’s a common occurrence when someone starts changing their activity and eating habits. The weight comes off easily at first, your body is adjusting to major changes. The increased activity changes your metabolism and calories burn off easier. However, as your body acclimates to your new lifestyle, it slows down the changes. When you noticed the numbers on the scale moving less, if at all, and the compliments dying down, you wanted so badly to get back to that place. You resorted to drastic, and unhealthy changes.

You began by doubling up on your workouts, going to the gym for an hour before school, and then another hour after. Then, you cut back even further on your food; it started by skipping breakfast, telling your parents you would just grab something on the way to school; and then the other meals quickly followed.

You would tell your parents that you were still full from the lunch that you didn’t eat, or that you had gone out to eat with friends after school, but they started to catch on quickly. They began monitoring you and making sure you were eating, and that’s when the binging and purging began. Sure, they could sit there and make sure you cleaned your plate, but they couldn’t follow you around all the time to make sure you kept the food down.

You were able to keep that up for a few weeks, but eventually they caught on, and after an emotional confrontation you agreed to seek treatment. They didn’t want you to miss out on your senior year, so they found you an outpatient facility that was able to work around your schedule. You got set up with a healthy eating plan, which caused a lot of the weight that you had lost to come back. But with the help of some really great doctors, you learned to be okay with that. Okay with you.

Then you started dating one of the biggest stars in the world.

You had told Harry about your past pretty early on into your relationship. He was even more supportive and sweet about it than you expected him to be, and that’s saying a lot. He would make sure you were eating, but not baby you about it. When he would go for a run or workout, he would invite you along, supporting your decision whether or not you joined him. And when you had the conversation about keeping your relationship private, he made sure you understood that it had nothing to do with you, and he was so happy and proud to have you as his girlfriend.

But pictures started getting out, and the internet started speculating and talking about you. Harry and his team were the first to see it, and he knew what kind of damage this could do to you. When he sat you down to talk to you about what was going on, he couldn’t help but break down into tears, blaming himself for everything that they were saying. You comforted him and assured him that it wasn’t his fault. That you had dealt with bullies your whole life, and there wasn’t much damage a few faceless, nameless avatars on a screen could do to you. You had always been really good at pretending to be stronger than you were.

Without thinking, you moved to the phone that was on the end table and called down to the kitchen, ordering an obscene amount of food. None of it healthy. You cried as you waited for it to be delivered, calming down enough to answer the door and accept the food. The bellboy laid everything out on one of the tables for you before accepting your tip and going on his way.

You looked at everything laid out in front of you, cheeseburgers, pizza, french fries, cakes, ice creams, you ordered it all. Sure, you would indulge from time to time, but always responsibly. You hadn’t gorged yourself like this for years.

Your mind was racing, it was like a scene in a movie, there was a devil on one shoulder telling you to just go for it. If all these people were going to comment on you, you might as well give them something to comment about. On the other shoulder, an angel reminding you that you’d been doing so well for so long. That those people on the internet didn’t matter. What you think matters, what Harry thinks matters.

You collapse into a nearby chair, breaking out into sobs. Angry with yourself for folding so easily after being so strong for so long. The angel wins, and you don’t eat any of it. Instead, you decide to clear it all out and hide the evidence before Harry gets back. You don’t like keeping things from him, but you didn’t do it, so he would just get upset and worried over nothing.

*****

A few days later, you and Harry are relaxing in his London home when he excuses himself to take a call from Jeff. When he returned, he had a worried look on his face.

“Everything okay?” You asked.

He took a seat beside you, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not sure.” He looked at you, his expression serious. “I need to ask you something, and I want an honest answer. You’re not in trouble. I just want to know.”

You furrowed your brow. “Okay.”

“The night of the Grammys, did you order a bunch of room service?”

“Oh,” your voice is quiet as you slouch down. “I uh… yeah, I might have ordered a couple of things.”

“Y/N, Jeff saw the itemized bill. It wasn’t just a couple of things.” He grabbed your hands. “I’m not mad, baby but if something’s going on I want to know so I can help you.”

You let out a shuttered breath before your tears began to fall. Harry immediately wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest, letting you cry. He knew this was an important conversation, so he was willing to take as much time as you needed.

Eventually, you had calmed yourself enough to speak. You pulled back, looking down at your hands, which were sitting in your lap. “I didn’t eat it, I had a moment of weakness and almost relapsed, but I couldn’t go through with it.” Your gaze flicked up to Harry’s quickly, and you could see the tears pooling in his eyes.

“Baby, you should have called me. You know I would have been back there in a heartbeat.”

“I know you would have,” you said. “But you were busy, I didn’t want to bother you.”

A pained look flashed in his eyes. “You’re never a bother, you come before anything else. Especially if you’re hurting that much.” He placed his index finger under your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his. “Can I ask what triggered you?”

“I was looking through social media, I wanted to see what everyone was saying about your outfit, and I may have stumbled across a couple of comments about me that weren’t very nice.”

“Oh Y/N,” Harry pulled you close once again, kissing the top of your head. “I’m so sorry, this is all my fault.”

“No, it’s not.” You say sternly as you pull back. “And that’s why I didn’t tell you. Because I knew you’d blame yourself.” You place one hand on his cheek. “You don’t have any control over other people. And yes, they talk about me because I’m with you, but I’d rather have people talking about me and have you then have nobody talking about me, but also not have you.”

“I understand.” Harry says with a nod. “But if we’re going to work, you can’t keep stuff like this from me. I want to be there for you for everything good and bad. I love you so much Y/N, I would do anything for you.”

“I know.”

“Then let me in, tell me when this stuff is going through your mind and let me be there to help you however I can.” You nod quietly. “Promise?” You nod again. “Words baby, I need your words.”

“I promise.”

He smiled softly and pulled you in for a lingering kiss. “Good. Now what do you want to do? Do you want to talk to someone?”

You stop for a minute, knowing that as hard as you’d been pushing them away, those feelings were still inside of you waiting to bubble up to the surface. “Yeah, I think I do.”

“Okay, then we’re going to find you someone.” He said with determination in his voice. “And I want to talk to them too.” You look at him curiously. “I’m not going to sit in with you all the time, but I would like to sit in for a session or two, just so I can learn how to best support you.”

“Harry… that’s –”

“Is it okay?” He asks cautiously. “I don’t have to if it would make you uncomfortable.”

You silence him by crashing your lips against his. You are so overwhelmed by his love for you, he wants to do whatever he can to help you, you’re his priority. You know that you will likely be fighting this battle for the rest of your life, but it makes it so much more bearable to know that you’re not fighting it alone.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles headcanon #harry styles angst #harry styles comfrot #harry's house #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #harry edward styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

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fr3akingtf0utrn · 8 months

Text

“everything’s going to be okay, i promise.”

swiss ghoul x gn! reader

warnings: mention of suicidal thoughts, past sh scars, thoughts of relapse, relapsing, ed, etc.

- buckle up bitches, i’m sad, so this is sad. this little blurb is exactly how i feel rn.

——past memory/flashback

//switch pov/person

————————————————————————

The screams felt overwhelming at the end, and you have no idea why. They soon we’re blurred and you barely remember even leaving the stage and being the first one on the bus.

Everything was going so well. The rituals were amazing as usual but suddenly you got that feeling.

That feeling where you can’t anymore. That feeling that takes over your entire body, controls it.

You recalled getting this feeling in the middle of the tour while hanging out in one of the ghouls’ hotel.

You guys planned on watching many movies that night but yours didn’t last long.

It was during the 2nd movie, a triggering scene came on. The scene almost being the exact same situation you bad time through.

That causing you to be zoned out throughout the entire night, staring off into space. During that, these thoughts came back. Too many thoughts.

You felt suffocated. Not because of the ghoul pile, never, but these malicious needs egged you on more and more.

Your breathing picked up and you knew Swiss noticed since he was literally on you. You tried you best to calm down but nothing worked.

Swiss moved himself to turn to look at you, his eyebrows furrowed. He was between your legs, his head was resting on you abdomen.

He placed his hand on your thigh, and gave you a look, asking you quietly if you’re okay. You felt yourself get choked up, and shook your head.

Swiss removed himself from you and you quickly sat up, breathing. You slowly felt yourself become disgusted with your reaction and you frowned.

Swiss went to comfort you but without noticing him, you went to leave.

You quickly hopped over each ghoul and announced how you felt tired and wanted to get some rest. Everyone except swiss said goodnight and love you’s, not taking notice of your disheveled body. You took your leave and carried to your room.

Swiss sat there confused, multiple thoughts going through his head. Then it hit him, he wasn’t too sure, but was almost positive.

The scene from the movie. He knew you’ve struggled with suicidal intentions since you’ve joined the clergy. All the ghouls knew because it was easy to sense someone’s feelings..including blood.

The first time they’ve ever smelt blood on you was one of the second band practices you were in since summoned. Definitely confused but never said anything.

Through the months, of course growing close, it obvious you struggled, but one day, Aether had mentioned something to everyone when you had left.

——

Aether had his mouth open and his eyes were on the ground, wavering. Sodo took notice, “What are you doing?”

Aether closed his mouth and gulped. His mind was in distraught, “I-..i knew something was wrong but…”

All the ghouls now gathered around, confused and interested. A tear fell from aethers eye, sometimes he hated being a quintessence ghoul. He had heard your thoughts and felt the urge you felt. The want. The need. The need to release and how you were going to do it.

His hands shook, “Y/n…i felt..” Aether took a deep breath, “remember when we smelt blood on them?” He looked up at them all, a tear fell once more.

Everyone froze, seemingly knowing what he was going on about because of his tears. It was silent for awhile, until swiss broke it, “are you sure.?”

Aether nodded, “i heard and felt everything as soon as they were packing up… it was..gut wrenching.”

They all kept that moment to themselves, not wanting to lose any trust they barely built up yet.

——

Swiss sat in silence as he stared where you once stood in-front of them.

He recalled when he first saw scars on your legs. All of you in the ghoul lounge and in a cuddle pile, his head on your lap. You had been wearing shorts, but they had ridden up without you noticing.

At first, he saw a big one just above your knee, assuming it was just from hell. But, he saw another one travel up farther up your thigh. And then more scattered in one spot. He lifted his head up and saw on both legs.

He had let a shuddered breath and from that moment he promised to take care of you and finally break the loneliness of pain you we’re in.

once you had made it to you hotel room, you crashed.

Sliding down the door, tears falling rapidly.

‘why now..i was doing so good,’ you sobbed as you thought that, “i was doing so good..” you barely managed to get out.

You didn’t even make it to the bed, just laying sprawled out on the floor, hiccuping. Your claws were scratching at your skin, deep marks seeping out blood.

‘please please, don’t do it, you were doing so good,’ you silently said to yourself. Having to beg your urge to not do it, you didn’t even have your blade, only having your claws.

They hurt more then you can imagine, not the same but you can’t help but think you deserve it. Deserve this pain.

A gentle yet firm knock at your door made you jump. You froze, not knowing what to do.

“..Y/n? It’s Swiss,” Swiss. Your eyes widen as you quickly got up. Frantically searching for a hoodie.

As you were digging through your bags, swiss continued, “please let me in.. i don’t want you too-..” he cut himself off. You shook your head at yourself for being obvious but finally found your hoodie.

Swiss heard you shuffling and bit his lip in worry. what we’re you doing? why were you taking so long? why-

The door clicked, slowly opening.

Swiss felt himself break at the sight of you.

You stood still, eyes to the ground, one hand on the door, the other wrapped around yourself over the giant hoodie.

Your hair covered your face, but Swiss could sense the amount of pain you were in.

“..what’s up.?” your voice was soft spoken, afraid that if you fully used your voice, it would break.

Swiss frowned slightly, almost pouting, he was annoyed at how easily you could go from having a breakdown to acting like nothing happened.

“..just wanted to see if you’re okay,” Swiss started, desperate to see your face as it was still facing slightly down. He raised his hand gently, going to cup your cheek. You flinched slightly but let it happen. “are you okay?” He asked.

You let him tilt your face up, hair falling to the side of your cheek. Swiss saw your red eyes, he also felt the sadness immediately when touching you.

“oh honey,” just by those words swiss spoke, you broke. Eyes watering, mouth twitching to a frown, and then to the ugly cry face.

Swiss quickly guided you inside your room and closed the door, you sliding into his body along the way.

He immediately engulfed you and picked you up. You seemingly weighed nothing to him as he carried you to the bed, arms still wrapped around you as you guys laid against the back board.

Your claws latched onto his shirt as you sobbed into him. Swiss felt himself start to tear up as he heard the words you spoke to yourself quietly. Words that could break anyone.

Swiss squeezed you tighter, and he held onto you, wanting your coldness to turn into warmth.

Hours passed, you calmed down but Swiss could still feel your hurt, god how much he wanted to just take it away from you.

He wants nothing more than for your happiness to be shown again. He just wants you to be back.

He just wants you.

——

Months into the tour, and you’ve become quiet most days. Almost never speaking after the rituals. Clearly everyone took notice, it was like you always cheered people up just by your presence, but now you felt absent.

You just locked yourself away in the tour bus rooms, or your hotel room.

Obviously Swiss was still always there for you, but it got harder when your depression turned into anger.

Recently, you had accidentally snapped at him when he tried comforting you after you messed up during a ritual.

——

“Fuck me!” you whisper-yelled and kicked a box back stage. Swiss had followed you out after you stormed off after bowing.

Sitting on the box you jus kicked, you hugged your knees to your chest. You wanted to just rip out your hair but you still had your mask on and had to keep it on till the bus arrived.

Swiss saw your glamour die down slowly, your tail being the first to whip harshly behind you and frowned but walked towards you.

“hey that is not your fault, don’t blame yourself,” Swiss said as he placed his hand on your shoulder. You smacked his hand and growled.

“of course it was my fault! Lord, i can’t even do one thing fucking right,” You stood up and started clawing at your arm, red scratch marks appearing.

He watched as you paced around, your back turned to him.

“Y/n! it wasn’t your fault, that fan literally threw something directly at you!” Swiss growled back, getting annoyed by your antics.

“but it was MY fault the others got confused, including Papa!” You whipped your head to him, baring your teeth. Swiss stumbled slightly at your aggressive state.

“it’s my fault i fucked up! It’s my fault i’m holding everyone back! it’s my fucking-..” your voice broke as you spoke. “It’s my fucking fault i’m like this,” your eyes widening as tears slipped passed your mask, hitting the ground.

Swiss’ eyes were wide as well as he watched you break yourself down. “y/n-” Swiss went to comfort you, but you immediately shut him down.

“And stop saying it’s okay! it’s not! im fucking not! You comforting me is almost useless because i still have the urge,” your claws sharpened as you gripped at your mask. Swiss knew you didn’t mean these words but it stuck to me.

“oh my fuck, i cant breath,” you clawed at the mask, three marks went through the leather. You almost collapse on the ground, but Swiss made it to you before you could.

Swiss helped with your mask and covered you as you let your full ghoul form out.

He saw your red face and saw the anger in your eyes. As your eyes met he saw your sharp slits grow big and dilate. Emotions ran through you. Embarrassment, sadness, anger, panic, and guilt.

Seeing that Swiss took off his mask with you filled you with guilt. The fact he would stand by you even when you lashed out on him made you almost cry.

But at the same time, seeing his face calmed you from doing anything else. You remembered what you said and regretted it. “i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean- i’m sorry i cant-” Swiss cut you off and hugged you, “i know, i know,” He placed his head on top of yours as you smushed into his chest.

——

Swiss watched you silently. You faced the wall, back turned to him as you were laid down on the small twin sized bed. His heart burned for you. He wished he could take away your pain. He would give you the world if it meant you wouldn’t have to go through this anymore.

In his mind he begged himself to tell you how he feels. He wanted to claim you so badly, to make you his. He didn’t care how horrible your emotions could be, he didn’t give one of Copia’s rats ass how you looked when you were struggling the most and had no energy to do anything.

You changed him so much when you were summoned. It was like something in him switched as you guys grew closer.

Swiss stopped sleeping around, he came to realize it slightly disturbed him because all he did was think about you. But it is because he wanted to do those things with you. Not particularly sex but love.

All he wanted was you.

As those thoughts passed through his mind, he heard you groan, and shuffle a bit. He panicked as your body shook.

Quickly, he stood up and rushed to you. Your body arched off the bed and your contorted into a frown as tears slid down your face.

Swiss sat on the bed and placed your upper body to rest against him. He mumbled sweet words and moved his hand to rub soothing circles on your shoulder.

Your body stopped contorting, resting finally as you woke up. A sharp breath left you as you realized the nightmare you had. Swiss watched you, saying nothing.

You realized where you are and looked up at him. “swiss..” you whispered, and swiss swore his heart was on fire. The way you looked at him made him realize he needed to tell you.

Swiss lifted his hand to move stray pieces of hair from your face and admired you.

Realization ran through you as you looked into Swiss’ eyes. All he has ever done has been there for you. But it wasn’t just him being there for you. No, never. You were so blinded by your own emotions that you never noticed the way he looked at you. The way he admired you. The way he loved you.

In this moment, you also realized your feelings. You’ve grown attached to him since day 1. And as you two became close, years passed, you felt your heart drop when you knew how you felt.

You searched Swiss’ eyes, praying he felt the same without realizing he was doing the same.

“Swiss,” you said once more as you pace a hand atop of his when he placed it on your cheek.

Whispering your name back, Swiss smiled softly at you. You raised yourself up to him, eyes never leaving each other.

Before even realizing, you leaned into him, lips together. Swiss mentally cried of happiness as he sighed into your lips. You smiled into it and leaned back, resting your forehead against his.

Swiss’ eyes were still closed and you closed yours. Your guys’ hands stayed in the same place as you lived in the moment.

Words couldn’t describe the amount of love you held for each other. They didn’t need to. In that moment, you could feel it, and see it.

Swiss opened his eyes and glided his hand to rest on the crook of your neck.

“Let’s go to sleep yeah?” He said as he grinned stupidly at you. You smiled at him and nodded.

Getting comfortable, swiss held you from behind and curled into you, legs twisting with yours. You held his hand that was laying in front of you as you softly breathe.

You both knew it was going to take awhile for yourself to get better, but things like these take time. Simply just being present for someone can help immensely. And right now, everything was okay for once.

Just before falling asleep, Swiss mumbled into your ear,

“everything’s going to be ok, I promise,”

#ghost bc #ghost band #ghost copia #nameless ghouls #papa emeritus #ghost bc x male reader #swiss ghoul #swiss army ghoul #swiss ghoul x reader #swiss ghost

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