I, Too, Am Weird Every Night

how it feels to have thoughts and feelings and problems you lowkey can't talk to anyone about

Marc Spector request?— I got you. Okay, how about a fic where Marc washes up at shore after a mission and reader rescues him and nurses him back to health in her seaside cottage 🙇🏻‍♀️ 🙏🏽

ohhhh hell yes girl !!!!!!!! i love love love this so bad

Hi! If you’re still taking requests, could you do a Lottie x reader where she gets a vision of her gf being injured so she stays by her side to protect her?

PAPER CUT

pairing: lottie matthews x reader

word count: 1238

notes and warnings: i did lottie a lil dirty in this one she is the embodiment of my anxiety in this fic. very mild TW for mentions of self harm (its just mentions of lottie cutting her hand to give the wilderness blood like in the show ykyk). also i promise i wasnt on crack writing the end of this w the cookies

It felt like you were being haunted by a second shadow.

You didn’t really mind it. You loved every second you were able to spend with Lottie. But ever since you’d gotten up this morning she’d been extra close to you, following you from room to room, sending you an excessive amount of texts to check on you between the classes you taught at the wellness center.

She had even gone with you to the farmers market, which, due to her great distaste for life outside the compound, tended to be an extremely rare occurrence. Even there she would hardly let you out of her sight, tried to carry everything for you, almost wouldn’t let you drive and volunteered to instead, which you declined. She had been off somehow, all day. Anxious.

She got like that sometimes, you noticed. Whenever she saw something or met someone that reminded her of her time in the wilderness, or her time in Switzerland. There was a need on her end to be close to you, for in solitude was when the memories came. Normally you were fine with it. It was a privilege for you to give her the comfort she desired and needed.

But somehow, you thought that today was different. It wasn’t just a desire to be close to you that had her by your side but something else accompanying it, as if she were worried about you, as if something might happen.

In the car on the way home from the farmer’s market, you’d finally had enough. She had again tried to stop you from driving, saying she was concerned about the traffic, but she had been so erratic all day that you’d seen right through the excuse.

“Lottie,” you sighed, turning the car on and turning out of the parking lot, “what’s going on with you?”

She was silent, and you looked over to see her lost in thought, and you wondered if she had even heard you.

“Lottie,” you said again.

She jumped, as if you had hurriedly woken her from sleep, and she met your gaze with slight alarm.

“Are you okay?” You asked, though you knew the answer.

“I’m fine,” she said, and even gave you a forced half-smile, and you were going to let the matter drop when you saw her tracing the scar on the palm of your hand — you knew what this always led to, the blood, the sacrifice.

You pulled the car over. You knew it was a bit of an overreaction, but the farmer’s market had been in complete chaos and with Lottie’s multiple attempts to keep you from driving, you were nearing your limit.

“Lottie,” you said with all the patience you could muster, “you need to tell me what’s wrong. Please. You’ve been following me like a shadow all day, and while I love your company always, it feels like there’s something else going on. If it involves me, I have to know, and if it doesn’t, I’d still like to know so I can help you.”

She didn’t meet your gaze, just kept tracing the scar on her hand, almost like a child. Until suddenly she did look up, finally meeting your eyes, and you could see the terrible anxiety in her gaze. “The visions came back,” she said simply.

You sighed. You never knew what to say about the visions. Part of you thought it was all in her head, that she needed to see a therapist about it, that they were delusions. But another part of you, a part of you that you tried to subdue, knew there was more to it than that. That something in the wilderness really had called to and captivated those who would listen, and that being had never truly left.

“What did you see?” You asked.

She hesitated, fingering through the slight tangles in her dark hair. “I saw you. And blood. You were cut, I think, I’m not sure. But I didn’t want you to get hurt. I think that’s what it wants, blood.” She looked down at the scar on her hand. “If I can just give it what it wants, maybe…”

You shook your head, taking her hand. “I’m going to be fine. Maybe it wasn’t a vision, maybe it was just a dream, or… I don’t know. But nothing’s going to happen to me. I’m right here. And you don’t need to give it anything.”

“You can’t know for sure,” she said, her tone becoming increasingly ominous. “You haven’t seen what happens when we refuse to give it what it wants, if it feels neglected or suppressed.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. The way she described it to you, the hunger of whatever being she believed watched her, was haunting. There was nothing you could have said to convince her that she was wrong, and part of you didn’t really even know if she was.

You took her hand, shaking your head. “Nothing is going to happen, okay? And even if something does happen, we’re prepared now, right?” You turned her hand, gesturing to her scar, which you could tell she had tampered with a little while ago. “Please don’t do this anymore.”

She attempted to protest, but saw the look you gave her, how deep your concern for her ran. She relented, nodding. “I won’t.”

You believed her, or at least as much as you could.

Attempting to lighten the mood, you reached into the backseat, pulling out a small paper bag. “Anyway, while you were going fucking ham on the macrame booth at the market, I got us these,” you said, opening the paper bag to reveal three cookies.

“Shit,” you stopped, ripping your finger away from the bag. The bag had cut your finger, had given you a paper cut. The slightest bit of blood came up out of the cut, coating it, and suddenly it clicked in your mind. “Lottie,” you said, smiling slightly, resisting a laugh. You showed her your finger, and she paused.

“Oh my god,” she breathed, and you could tell the worry she wore was dissipating. “A fucking paper cut… I had a vision of you getting a fucking paper cut.”

“Your third eye needs to chill a bit,” you teased, and she smiled, rubbing her temples. “You okay?”

Lottie nodded, chuckling. “Just give me one of those cookies.”

“I think I should have two of the three. I mean I did bleed for them, so…”

“Well, you wouldn’t have if you had listened to my warning.”

“Split the cookie?”

“What kind are they?” She asked, genuinely invested in the custody of the third cookie.

“Chocolate chip.”

She reached for the cookie. Chocolate chip was her favorite. “I think I deserve the whole thing, then.”

Quickly you took possession of the third cookie, holding it by your head, opening your mouth to take a bite.

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

Deciding she’d had enough of a rough day as it was, you obliged, splitting the cookie in half and giving her the half that was slightly bigger. “See, you left me alone for a little while and came back to find me with cookies. Everything was fine.”

“Yeah, but if I’d been with you, we would have gotten four cookies and we wouldn’t have had this horrible custody battle.”

“Questioning my cookie buying skills, hm? I hope there’s a paper cut in your future.”

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Taglist: @ladyveela @thedeconstructionist @cordeliass @christies-fleur @traumatisedfangirl @goodeday2u @paulsonsratched

"it's unhealthy to read fanfiction"

well i'm doing my 20 minutes of daily reading so...

the prophet & the queen

─ a little death.

request: can you write something about hate fucking elliot? ily.

pairing: elliot x f!reader.

warnings: unprotected sex (not really tho). oral sex (f and m receiving). smut in general.

word count: 1,484.

A/N: requested by @fezcossidepiece but i deleted the original post on accident lmao, anyways ily and i hope you like it<3, not proofread.

you slammed the door heavily on elliot’s face, not even caring that you were at his house, anger drowning the rest of your feelings.

you have been friends with rue since you have memory; her, lexi and you being a remarkable trio ever since pre-school, and you never thought about doing something like elliot did.

you heard how he opened the door roughly, almost breaking the fragile wood, you listened to his fast steps getting closer to you, he was angry too, but he just didn’t seem to understand why you were so pissed off.

“i don’t understand why you’re so angry y/n” he said almost laughing, trying to get closer to you, but your body kept walking back, not wanting to be close to him in any way.

“it’s not like it even bothers you that i told her mom” he continued, bluffing at you, cigarette in hand while he walked back and forth through the small room, waiting for you to respond.

his attitude made you snap, completely, all the words you tried to keep to yourself fell from your mouth, not even trying to stop yourself.

“oh my god elliot, shut the fuck up!” you shouted, prolonging the ‘u’, annoyment clear on your tone. “you had no right to do what you did. why did you even do it, huh?” you continued, but words couldn’t stop drowning your mouth.

“you are a fucking addict yourself, do you see your friends telling your family?” you got closer to him, the word friends being marked with false quotation marks with your index and middle finger. “you are an hypocrite and a fucking cunt, rue had every right to tell you everything she said” you finished.

“this is all your fault, if you hadn’t introduced her to me nothing of this would’ve happened” he replied, making you laugh at his stupidity.

“oh, i’m sorry, my bad. was i the one who ruined her life, embarrassed her in front of jules and her sister? fuck elliot, if you wanted to help her, couldn’t you just tell her mom? alone?” you shouted, your throat hurting from how much you were screaming at him.

you got so close to him that you and elliot were almost nose to nose, you were so angry, elliot could almost feel it radiating off you, he was angry too, his frown delating it; the two of you were waiting to see who would lose it first.

you were about to continue your monologue, but elliot placed a hand on the back of your neck, pulling you to him, and suddenly you were kissing him, his tongue in your mouth, and his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt.

in less than a second you changed the position, pushing his body to the bed, his body falling harshly on the mattress, you crawled up onto the bed and moved closer to him, your legs straddling around his waist.

impatiently you pulled elliot’s shirt up and over his head, and let it fall to the ground, he slid his fingers underneath the hem of your shirt, fumbling with the button and zipper on your pants, you smirked up at him, starting to move your hips in eight figures. “you are all bark and no bite, princess” elliot said smirking before letting out a quiet groan as his hips met yours.

“and you are a fucking coward” you laughed, pressing your palm up against the growing outline in his jeans, his grip around your hips tightened slightly when you began undoing the button. “not being able to go by yourself, but asking me to go with you, so you wouldn’t be so scared” you smirked at him, feeling how his dick got even harder at your degradation.

you pulled his jeans down and took him in your hand, “i hate you, so, so much” your voice was low, barely audible your thumb tracing circles over his sensitive tip and covering it in precum. “that tonight i’m gonna fuck you so good” your hand moved up and down on his dick, a smile curling on your lips at the pitiful whimpers he made, thrusting into your hand, biting his bottom lip in an attempt to stay quiet. “and then i’m gonna leave you here, and never give it to you again”

elliot’s breathing hitched as you got down on your knees, licking your lips as you prepared to take him in your mouth. “and you’ll wish that every girl you fuck was me” he grunted, hips stuttering as you enveloped him in your warm mouth, he ran one hand through your hair, pulling your hair tightly, but not once did he push you to take more of him.

you cupped his balls on your free hand, taking him further into your mouth, gagging on his length, but suddenly he pushed you off of him, his hand on your hair pulling it so roughly it almost made you cry.

he pushed your body to the mattress, dragging your legs to the end of the bed, positioning himself in between them, he kissed your thighs before he buried his face on your soaking slit, his left hand sliding up your body and grabbing onto one of your tits, he rolled your nipple between his fingers.

elliot wasn’t being delicate, his tongue moved perfectly against your clit, licking, sucking, and flicking back and forth until he felt your legs start shaking over his shoulders, his fingers traced your clit, keeping a quick pace, somehow able to tell that you were nearing the edge, almost catching your release.

almost.

“what the-“ he didn’t let you finish before he started talking.

“beg for me, c’mon, be a good girl and beg for me.” he said, he could see the desperation on your face, it almost made him feel bad, you frowned and rolled your eyes, you would never let him get away with it, so you pushed his body off you and stood up.

you placed your hands against his chest and began pushing him, slowly, backwards until the backs of his knees hit the edge of the bed and he was forced to sit, allowing you to climb onto his lap. “i don’t beg, handsome” elliot’s facial expression shifted - he was turned on before, but this, this was different. elliot placed his hands on your hips, helping you along. he held back a moan as he watched you use him to get yourself off.

you felt the knot in your stomach beginning to come undone and began moving faster and faster, anxiously approaching your release, but once again, his voice interrupted you.

“you are not even close to hating me, pretty” he said. elliot’s words pushed you to the edge.

“shut the fuck up” you hissed.

“you can’t hate me because you love the way i make you feel, not even needing my mouth or my dick to make you come.” he continued.

“shut up” you said while placing one of your hands on top of his mouth to stop him from talking, and before another word could left his filthy mouth, you positioned yourself completely on top of his dick, pushing yourself down, sitting completely on his dick.

you moved your hips roughly, fast, trying to get you to come, the idea of him reaching his orgasm not even reaching your mind, focusing on you and only you.

he tried to talk, but his word got muffled by your hand, you thanked god for that, your hips never stopped moving, elliot moved one of his hands and brought it to one of your tits, squeezing it and pinching the nub with his fingers.

that was your undoing, you came, loudly, all over his dick, your body slumped tiredly against his chest, but almost immediately, you pushed yourself off of him and began gathering your clothes and getting dressed in silence, already feeling your annoyance at elliot returning as he just sat there and watched you. “what are you looking at? put your clothes on” you scoffed.

“okay” he said calmly, he didn’t sound angry or disgusted, his response was monotonous, not letting you understand how he felt, but you didn’t care either.

when you ended dressing yourself you turned to look at him. “this won’t happen again” you said, walking past elliot and leaving his room, almost immediately he heard the front door close.

“never again” he said to himself, but he couldn’t help to keep remembering the words you told him earlier, every single one of them being true, making him want to go and follow you so he could apologize, but he was to stubborn to even think about it.

can yall send me anakin requests im bored

Somethin about puppy dog eyes.

#when the aftereffects of magic berry wine result in you being possessed by shauna shipman's complicated dead lesbian situationship