#It's so weird and there's no point die crying about it

[latexb0n3z]

Unrequited Love, Lots Of Blow, and a Visit From Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man

CW; self-harm, sexual mentions, drug use, mental illness yadayadayada.

This was kind of a vent in some weird way. Crashed out earlier and had to write something to cope.

Logan woke up to the sound of something(s) shattering. Again.

“Goddammit, Wade,” he muttered, dragging himself off the couch. It wasn’t even 8 AM, and his roommate was already tearing through the place like a tornado.

Roommate. Logan still wasn’t sure how the hell that had happened. Wade had been crashing at his place “just for a few days” six months ago, and somehow, he’d never left. Logan had considered kicking him out more times than he could count, but something about the mercenary’s manic energy—and the raw, broken humanity underneath it—kept him from following through.

Logan pushed open the door to Wade’s bedroom, which looked like a war zone. Clothes, weapons, and takeout containers were scattered everywhere, and Wade stood in the middle of it, panting, holding the remnants of a lamp in his hand.

“Morning, sunshine,” Logan grunted. “What’s this about?”

Wade didn’t look at him. His face was bare, his scars catching the dim morning light. “It was an ugly lamp anyway.” The more Logan looked, the more was wrong. There was blood, literally everywhere. The bathroom mirror was broken, glass and MORE blood everywhere— the living room was a disheveled mess, a broken bottle of Jack, and a shattered cup like Wade had just grabbed the first thing that was near.

Logan crossed his arms. “You gonna tell me what’s really going on, or should I start charging you for broken furniture?”

Wade flinched, then dropped the lamp base to the floor with a clatter. “What’s the point, huh? You don’t care.”

Logan frowned. “You think I’d let you live here if I didn’t care?”

Wade laughed, sharp and bitter. “Let’s not kid ourselves, Logan. You let me stay because you feel sorry for me. Big, bad Wolverine, taking pity on the ugly stray.” He gestured to himself. “Well, guess what? I don’t need your charity! I’ll leave— and like you said, it’s ‘God’s best joke that I can’t die’ and it’s on all of us!” Even though dying is all he wished he could do.

Logan stepped forward, his voice low and steady. “This about the girl?”

That did it. Wade’s head snapped up, his eyes blazing. “Oh, so you did notice. Good for you, Sherlock.” He took a shaky breath, his words spilling out in a torrent. “Yeah, it’s about her- and everything else- and- and, It’s about how you’ve been all smiles and soft eyes around her. How you go out on these little dates, come home smelling like flowers and happiness or whatever the hell normal people do!”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You jealous?”

Wade barked out a laugh, but it sounded more like a sob. “Oh, I’m so jealous, Logan. Not because I want her or anything—God, no. I’m jealous because she’s… she’s normal. She’s pretty, and soft, and someone you could actually care about.”

His voice cracked, and his hands clenched into fists. “Not like me. Not like this.” He gestured to his scarred face, his mismatched, worn-down body. “You could never like something like me, right, Logan?”

Logan stared at him, his expression unreadable. For a moment, the room was silent except for Wade’s heavy breathing, his manic pacing, his sniffles.

“You done?” Logan finally asked.

Wade blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“I said, are you done?” Logan stepped closer, his voice gruff but calm. “Because if you’re waiting for me to tell you you’re wrong, I’m not gonna do it.”

Wade’s face crumpled, but Logan kept going.

“You’re a pain in the ass, Wade. You’re loud, and messy, and half the time, I don’t know whether to strangle you or buy you a drink.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “But you’re wrong about one thing. I don’t let you stay here because I feel sorry for you. I let you stay because you’re worth putting up with.”

Wade looked up, his eyes glassy. “You’re just saying that to make me stop crying and breaking things!”

Logan snorted. “Trust me, I’m not the type to say things I don’t mean. And I don’t give a damn what you look like.”

Wade swallowed hard, his hands shaking. “I don’t believe you.”

Logan grabbed him by the shoulders, his grip firm but not unkind. “Then believe this: If I didn’t want you here, you wouldn’t be here. Got it?”

Wade nodded slowly, his breath hitching.

“Good,” Logan said, letting go and stepping back. “Now clean this mess up before I start charging you for rent.”

But Wade didn’t move and inch. He just looked down at the floor, and cried and cried. He just stood there, vulnerable, without any quips or witty comments to defend himself. Logan thought it was a pain in the ass, but he was still himself— empathetic no matter just how much he wanted to just tell the son of a bitch to get out.

“Wade?” He was sort of at a loss for words. Wade having outbursts wasn’t anything new— but just… standing there, crying. That was a sight to behold. His expression dropped,

“You have no idea, Logan.”

“You think you’re special, bub? I’ve been alive for two-hundred fucking years. I saw the invention of machine guns for one. You have no fucking clue what ideas I have, Wade.”

Wade finally looked up at him, his milky, yellowed eyes glazed over.

“Do you think I’m hideous?”

“What? I just said I don’t give a shit what you look like.”

“That wasn’t my question. I didn’t ask if you cared- I asked if I’m hideous.”

Logan gave him a once over. Wade already had the answer made up in his mind regardless of what Logan said.

He didn’t think Wade was hideous, but he wasn’t in attracted to him by any means.

“Okay, Wade! Yes, fine, you’re hideous— that’s what you wanna hear right?! Seems like you’ve already made up your damn mind about the answer.”

Wade gave a half smile, and then just turned on his heel and left, slamming the door so hard it made the whole apartment vibrate.

—

And then weeks passed, and Wade never returned. He’d left all his things there, and Logan considered throwing them out after a while. He’d even left his mask on the couch, which Wade never left without.

Annie was her name, the girl. Soft, brown eyes and strawberry blonde hair, and a round face full of freckles. She wore blouses and skirts, and wedges with white little bows on top.

And Logan liked her. Loved her even. Fell for her harder than he’d wanted to. At first their relationship was casual— cute little dates that made Logan feel normal. And the best part— she was a mutant too. It was nothing impressive, mild telekinetic abilities. She could lift small objects from across the room and shut doors without touching them.

She was peaceful, and domestic and a soft body to lay on. He felt safe with her. She’d spend nights at his place since Wade had left- cooked food for him and let him rest his head on her lap while he stroked his head. Things had gotten serious between them in the weeks Wade had been gone.

They had hot, passionate, electrifying sex- made each other laugh so hard they cried and kissed- and then had more sex. Logan would take her against the counter, in the bathroom, on the couch, in the bedroom. Parts of their lives mingled together. Some of his stuff stayed at her place, and parts of her lived at Logan’s. It was unlike anything he’d had in a long long time.

Meanwhile Wade had been doing as much blow as possible and fucking off. Logan wasn’t the only one who hadn’t heard from him. Nobody had. He was torturing himself. He knew he couldn’t die, but he could feel pain. One night he’d played Russian roulette with himself off so much coke it would kill a normal human. He savored what intoxication he could get from alcohol for a couple minutes before the joy was killed by his healing factor.

He’d shoot himself in the head, blow his brains out only to come right back with only half the memories. He’d slit his own throat to choke and watch his ever replenishing blood gush out. He’d cut his fingers off one by one after each line, only to watch them grow back after a couple of hours.

He hadn’t showered in weeks, and smelled like death, blood and straight ass. He didn’t change his clothes, didn’t speak to anyone. Just restarted the same routine he did when Vanessa died. Trying to kill himself but never really dying.

Oh how he missed her. He wondered what she would say to him now, what she would think of who he was. He wondered if she’d be horrified seeing him, or if she’d have loved him anyway. He’d escaped the Weapon X program only to find out from Weasel that she’d been shot and robbed while hooking after he’d disappeared.

He’d had a couple years to reconcile with that… only to fall in love with Logan. What a fucking idiot he was, right?

Unrequited— though he knew Logan had considered him… sort of a friend.

Wade knew he was a pain in the ass, and pissed himself off too most of the time.

It didn’t matter though. He was hundreds of miles away from his life now, taking his shit show all the way to New York City, in the good old United States of America.

—

The New York alley smelled like garbage and rain, a mixture Wade found oddly comforting. The dumpster beneath him was cold and sticky in a way he didn’t want to think too hard about, but it didn’t matter. He was home. Or something like it.

He lay flat on his back, arms spread out like he was trying to make a snow angel on the grimy metal surface. His mask was half-pulled up, just enough to let him belt out an off-key rendition of Total Eclipse of the Heart.

“There’s nothing I can dooooo… a total eclipppse of the heaaaart!” he howled, his voice echoing through the narrow alley.

Somewhere nearby, a rat squeaked in protest.

“You’ve got an audience,” came a voice from above.

Wade froze mid-note, craning his neck back to see a familiar figure hanging upside down by a thin strand of webbing. The bright red-and-blue suit was unmistakable.

“Spidey!” Wade gasped, sitting up so fast he nearly fell off the dumpster. He was hopped up on cocaine, meth, angel dust, anything he’d managed to get his hands on tonight. “My second-favorite insect-themed hero! What brings you to my garbage palace?”

Spider-Man tilted his head, his mask’s lenses narrowing. “You’re laying on a dumpster and singing power ballads. Should I be concerned, or is this just a Tuesday for you?”

“Wednesday, actually,” Wade corrected, wagging a finger. “And I’m celebrating my triumphant return to the Big Apple! Came here with nothing but a bag of cash and a dream. And maybe some mild emotional baggage. But mostly the cash.”

Spider-Man flipped down to the ground, landing lightly. “I’m pretty sure that was illegal cash.”

“What isn’t, these days?” Wade said, waving him off. “Besides, it’s not like I’m hurting anyone. Unless you count your ears.”

Spider-Man crossed his arms. “You’re avoiding the question. Why are you really here, Wade?”

Wade leaned back against the dumpster, sighing dramatically. “You wouldn’t understand. It’s a tale as old as time. Boy meets mutant, mutant moves in, mutant gets jealous of said boy’s weirdly functional romantic life and flees to New York to sulk in an alley and reevaluate his choices.”

Spider-Man blinked. “Okay, wow. That’s… more personal than I expected.”

“Yeah, well, welcome to the Deadpool Show.” Wade gestured broadly at himself. “We like to keep things raw and unscripted. Keeps the audience engaged.”

Spider-Man crouched down, resting his elbows on his knees. “Look, I know we don’t… vibe exactly, but you seem like you’re going through something. Do you need help?”

Wade laughed, a sharp, hollow sound. “Oh, Spidey, my sweet, built like a gymnast summer child. I’m beyond help. I’m like a car that’s been totaled, set on fire, and then run over by a tank. But thanks for asking.”

“You’re not that bad,” Spider-Man said, though his tone was hesitant.

“Aw, you think I’m redeemable,” Wade said, clutching his chest. “You’re adorable! Like a little web-slinging therapist.”

“Seriously, Wade. You don’t have to do… this,” Spider-Man said, gesturing to the dumpster and the alley. “Whatever’s going on, there’s got to be a better way to deal with it than running away and singing ‘80s ballads in the rain.”

“It wasn’t raining when I got here,” Wade pointed out. “But, fine, I’ll bite. What do you suggest, Dr. Spidey?”

Spider-Man hummed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know. Maybe talk to the person you’re running from instead of hiding out here. Have an actual conversation.”

Wade snorted. “You think I’m the ‘talking about my feelings’ type? Adorable. Really, top marks for optimism. I already tried- got blood all over the poor guys’ apartment and broke his mirror… Oh- you know Wolverine- Wolvie- Logan? Yeah he’s alive again and I haaaave itttt bad, Spidey.”

Spider-Man sighed. “Wolverine… like? Like… The X-men’s Wolverine? He died! How the hell is he alive again?— wait, don’t tell me he came from a different universe or something.”

Wade tilted his head, clicked his tongue and made finger guns, “Ding Ding Ding! That’s exactly right.” He dropped his hands but remained looking up, studying Spider-Man for a long moment. “You’re way too good for this city, you know that? It’s like watching a Disney protagonist in Gotham.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Spider-Man said dryly.

Wade slid off the dumpster, landing with a flourish. “Fine. You win. I absolutely cannot go back to Canada anytime soon but— I will try to stop doing massive amounts of narcotics and cutting off my limbs are even though they just regrow.”

“You’re really a strange guy, you know that, Wade?”

“Yes— quite intimately actually. Very large part of the reason I’m torturing myself out here in the good old United States of America.”

Spider-Man rolled his eyes. “Quit your sulking, grab my hand.”

Wade raised a… well… what would be his eyebrow if he had any, but said, “Fuck it,” and took his hand.

Suddenly, he was suspended in the air, wind whipping past his ears as they swung through the towering skyline of New York. Wade let out a loud, exaggerated scream. “OH MY FUCK, SPIDEY, THIS IS THE CLOSEST I’VE BEEN TO FLYING SINCE THAT TIME I STRAPPED FIREWORKS TO MY BACKPACK!”

“Why does that not surprise me?” Spider-Man shouted back, his voice barely audible over the rush of the wind.

“BECAUSE I’M AN ICON OF CHAOS!” Wade cackled, twisting his body mid-swing to strike a pose, one hand outstretched dramatically. “LOOK AT ME! I’M PETER PAN BUT WITH MORE TRAUMA!”

Spider-Man groaned. “Do you ever stop talking?!”

“Do you ever stop being an uptight boy scout?” Wade shot back.

Spider-Man didn’t dignify that with an answer, instead twisting midair and flinging a web to the next building. The sudden shift sent Wade swinging wildly, his legs flailing.

“Whoa, whoa, WHOA!” Wade yelled, clutching Spider-Man’s arm like a terrified cat. “Careful there, Spandex Man! Some of us are delicate flowers who bruise easily!”

“You literally can’t die,” Spider-Man said, exasperated.

“Emotionally, Spidey!” Wade quipped. “Emotionally!”

Spider-Man sighed, expertly landing on a rooftop and depositing Wade less-than-gently on the gravel.

Wade sprawled out on his back, catching his breath. “That was either the most fun I’ve ever had, or I’m having a stroke. Maybe both.”

Spider-Man stood over him, hands on his hips. “You’re impossible.”

“Ha! Logan says that too!” Wade sat up, pulling his mask back down. “So, what’s the plan, boss? You didn’t just web-nap me for a heart-to-heart, did you?”

Spider-Man crossed his arms. “I didn’t exactly plan this. But you’re clearly in a mood, and I figured some fresh air might knock some sense into you.”

“Aw,” Wade cooed, “you do care about me! Admit it. I’m growing on you, like a sexy barnacle.”

“Don’t push it.”

Wade leaned back on his hands, glancing out at the city below. The lights of New York twinkled like stars, and for a rare moment, he was quiet.

“…It’s kind of nice up here,” he said after a beat.

Spider-Man sat down beside him, still keeping a cautious distance. “Yeah. It is.”

They sat in companionable silence for a while, the noise of the city far below fading into the background.

Finally, Wade broke the silence. “You ever feel like you’re just… too much? Like you’re this big, messy disaster that everyone tolerates but no one really wants around?”

Spider-Man glanced at him, surprised by the sudden vulnerability. “I think a lot of people feel like that sometimes., and trust me, you’re definitely a disaster. But… you don’t have to be.”

Wade turned to him, his tone light but his voice just a little too tight. “Wow, Spidey, you’re really laying on the compliments tonight. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me.” He said, sarcastically.

Spider-Man rolled his eyes. “Okay, and we’re back to that.” He blushed under his mask, a bit bashful. Everything was an innuendo to Wade somehow.

“Hey,” Wade said, nudging him with his elbow. “Thanks for this. The swing, the chat, the unsolicited life advice… it’s nice to know someone’s got my back, even if you are a dork in pajamas.”

Spider-Man smirked under his mask. “Anytime, Wade. Just… try not to end up sulking on a dumpster again, okay?”

“What a sweetie pie you are, Peter.”

“How the hell do you know my name? It’s not like yours is a secret… but I thought I was doing a good job at this secret identity thing…”

“I’m a mercenary, I know everything even if I don’t want to.”

Peter huffed. “That’s not an answer but… okay, Wade.”

Wade huffed and then tried to push his luck.

“I don’t suppose your kindness extends past swinging… like- a place to-“

“Absolutely not.”

“Oh come onnnnn! I thought you were all about being helpful.”

“Hey- I’m all for giving a little support but how do I know you won’t just break my stuff too?”

“One night?”

Peter bit his bottom lip under his mask in thought.

“Ugh, you’re such an ass. Give you an inch and it turns into a mile.”

Wade just stared at him, expecting.

“Fine! One night and then you’re back to whatever you have been doing.”

[frobby]

All the bitches who think I'm super weird for liking sarazanmai don't know I like jingai-san no yome

[maraeffect]

started watching hopecore right before bed and MAN. what a life it is we live on this earth.

[phagodyke]

venting sorry... don't want to just delete it bc it helps to get it out just ignore this post pls 👍

haven't slept much at all and feeling so sick andstressed and in pain bc my period is due and so tired its making me dizzy but i cant sleep more or ill just feel more sick and I want a hug and to cry so hard into someones shoulder but no one cares or will even come near me it makes me feel diseased they think things about me that aren't true bc I struggle so much to communicate and thry all make assumptions insteqd and no one wants to give me space to talk to them about it so I cant undo that now and its all my fault and I'm so. exhausted :-(

[exercise-of-trust]

.

[bittwitchy]

ive been five seconds away from a breakdown every second since the 26th and honestly im gonna keep being five seconds from another breakdown until at least saturday

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

To Be Wooed

I blacked out and wrote this. This is so silly to me.

Enjoy!

Look Danny didn't mean to kill the Joker it was an honest mistake, he was still recovering from escaping the GIW and whatever they had used on him had still been in effect when he honest to Ancients ran into the fake clown.

Of course it doesn't look like an accident with how he left the Joker

But it was!

Really it really was!

Whatever the GIW did was out of his system, but that still left a very dead and coreless Joker.

Yeah...apparently Joker had a core, but not anymore because he ate it like it was pop rock candy, if the weird cousin spicy version of it. He still feels like he has some of it stuck in his teeth.

Anyways! Not the point!

Joker! Very dead at his feet, what is he supposed to do-

THUMP

Oh Ancients he's going to die again that's the Red Hood!

"Uh...I can explain, well not really. But it was an accident! I promise and-"

"You killed him?"

"I'm really sorry? He bumped into me, it was an accident I swear!"

"Go on a date with me."

WHa-what?! Did he just hear correctly why would he ask him out out of nowhere it made no sense and..oh.

Red Hood's been touched by Death not like him but enough to count, and enough to have some ghostly instincts.

Okay ghostly courting he can do that, he totally can, no sweat!

Shit who is he kidding he may have the instincts but he was never actually taught how he's supposed to use them or anything.

Well he's always been good at making it up as he goes, and at least his instincts will help push him in the right direction.

So he should just do what feels natural to him.

"Yes I'll go out with you. If I were to make jewelry and knives out of his bones would you accept them?"

"...For me to wear and use. Yes."

~

Danny freaking out about just killing and kinda eating someone: I'm in so much trouble!

Jason behind him fixing his appearance: "Well hello there handsome come by here often?"

~

Joker bumping into Danny: "ahAHA you will make a good experiment!"

Danny is high as a kite and getting the munchies: "I didn't know I could order food with my mind!"

Joker: "Whut-"

~

Jason seeing Danny absolutely wrecking Jokers shit: *Ghost Instincts Activated*

~

Jason falling fast for Danny without even knowing his name: "Can I pretty please kiss you?"

Danny realizing what's going on but still being clueless: "Does that mean you will accept these gifts made from Jokers bones?"

Jason's Ghost Instincts rising to a fever pitch: "I'm going to woo the fuck out of ya and then we'll get married then we'll fu-"

~

Danny's Ghostly Instincts being connected to his 'Protection' & Jason's to his 'Revenge' showing these kind of specific gestures towards them is incredibly romantic.

~

Jason and Danny's relationship basically:

~

~

~

#They're like Morticia & Gomez absolutely smitten for each other

#Jason brings a crying & beaten up GIW who has been stalking Danny

#Danny almost swooned

#They start flirting with each other while standing on top of the GIW dude

#Jason's goons are happy that their boss found 'The One' apparently but can they please stop eyefucking each other while they're there and-

~

Just an Idea

[smollsmule]

Ok ok but you wanna know the real tea?? I've read several beach fics at this point (which are all awesome btw, y'all are amazing writers) and it's a beloved staple to have Edwin be somehwat scandalised at everyone's beach outfits not to mention all flustered from seeing Charles in swim wear. Which is a Good Trope, don't get me wrong, I love that just as much as the next person

HOWEVER

I think actually it's Charles who should be more shooketh about Edwin in his funky lil edwardian two piece!!

Picture this. The year is 1916. You are 16 year old Edwin Payne with a bunch of repressed gay thoughts. Much unpleasantness happens, you die and get dragged to hell, even more unpleasantness happens, 70 years later you finally manage to claw your way up and suddenly women are allowed to vote. There's been not one but two world wars, several countries you grew up reading about in the news don't exist anymore and mini skirts are a thing now.

All I'm saying is, for all the teasing Edwin gets for "What is a handjob?" and "Crystal's internet", this kid was essentially thrust into a scifi world full of weird shit and gets mostly by via an attitude which can only be paraphrases as "fuck it, this might as well be a thing (maybe ask Charles about it later)". King of adaption, master of radical acceptance.

Charles on the other hand, and I say this with only love in my heart, is at his core a boomer. He was there for every tiny gradual shift from '89 to modern day. Sure, he was dead for most of that time, but that's not really relevant. All I'm saying is, seeing the bbc announce marriage equality was probably a bigger shock to Charles than it was to Edwin. That's a guy who already had to accept he will never fully wrap his head around home television.

Also consider the states of undress they've been exposed to seeing the other in. Edwin was stripped to his underwear in hell and still had his knees and elbows covered. And that was probably a more exposing outfit than he'd ever be comfortable with. His usual casual get up features a sweater vest for crying out loud! Meanwhile you have Charles going full 'ceps out in his undershirt first chance he gets. Edwin either got real cool with a lot of shit real fast or he would have combusted several times over those 30 years.

And yes yes, we've all seen Edwin "Haunted By Gay Thoughts" Payne's mental slideshow of abs n hips close ups after getting one (1) glance at the Cat King's stomach. But to his credit, the man was going through a full blown sexuality crisis at that and has since emerged victorious.

So all I'm saying is. Edwin seeing Charles shirtless at the beach? Probably not even the first time this is happening, a lil flustering for sure but just last week he saw two people making out nasty on the tube so hell if he knows. Charles seeing Edwin's kneecaps and upper arms for the first time? Incredible, show stopping, pride and predjudice 2005 hand flex level of suppressed horniness.

Anyway. I'm writing this fic now and none of y'all can stop me.

[criminalamnesia]

everyone’s asking for a part two so here is more angst bc cedar by gracie abrams is perfect for this [ also inspired by what @shotmrmiller said in their reblog :)) ]

part one here

part three (aka version 1 of the ending) here

part three (ending version 2) here

it’s odd coming home to an empty house. unnerving, even. he doesn’t like it— dislikes it even more than he did your celebrations. fuck, he’d kill for those damn streamers right now.

“love?” his voice is soft as he calls out into the dark, once lively little flat. it hasn’t felt this big since before you had moved in.

he takes a few more steps inside, toeing off his boots and letting his backpack fall to the floor. by now, you would’ve been launching yourself into his arms. where were you? you’d never missed the day he came home. ever. you would have it marked on your calendar from the day he left, exclamation points and stars decorating the date.

“love?” he calls again, his voice a little louder. he keeps moving; notices there’s no smell of freshly baked goods or a home-cooked meal.

he rounds the corner, his eyes instantly finding the little note propped up on the dining table. eyebrows furrowed, he approaches. it’s addressed to him, clearly in your handwriting.

he reads it, and he really should’ve seen all of this coming.

he doesn’t cry. doesn’t even feel sad, really. it’s not like he hadn’t loved you— he had, but sometimes you made it really damn difficult to. your constant touches and words, doting on him, talking his ear off about this and that. he’d loved it at first, then came to tolerate it, and eventually he found himself hating it.

it wasn’t fair to you. he didn’t hate you, he hated the naivety. the unconditional love. partners were supposed to show each other that kind of love, were they not? so why did he come to despise it?

perhaps it was some deep rooted self-hatred. something dark and twisted inside of him that had done too much and taken life. killed and killed and killed. watched his comrades die in a number of ways. slowly. quickly. suddenly. brutally.

it hollowed him out, but it was his job. it was his job to do what he could for the damn world— get his hands dirty so people like you would never have to worry about a damn thing.

he should’ve seen it coming. you had been acting a little odd the last time he was home, he realizes now. detached, almost. quieter. he had cherished the quiet then.

now it was weird. he didn’t know how to feel.

he placed the note back down onto the table before making his way into the kitchen. some utensils were missing. some plates and bowls. the colorful dishrags you’d hung from the stove handle. the little plant you’d stationed in front of the window above the sink.

all the pictures of the two of you remained on the fridge. he could see in the photos how he slowly became detached. but you— god, you wore that dazzling smile in every photo.

he turned around and headed towards the bedroom.

——————————————————————

there wasn’t really any defining closure. you’d left the note, sure, but he hadn’t gotten to speak his piece.

would he have begged you to stay? told you to leave?

he didn’t know. all he knew was that it wasn’t fair to you, how he acted. what he did.

he also knew that if you called, or if you showed up and said you forgot something, or hell, if he saw you on the street, he’d say something. apologize at least, because that’s the least you deserved.

but you didn’t, and after a few days, he stopped thinking about you. what you’d be telling him right now if you were there. stopped thinking about how you sang when you cooked dinner. how you would reach for his hand when the two of you were in the grocery store.

how you would throw those damn ‘welcome home!’ parties.

he fell back into who he was, and your memory became nothing but a minuscule dot on a large piece of paper.

but for you? you had been miserable when you’d shown up at your friends apartment. cried into her shoulder as you told her about the note. sobbed as you realized that he didn’t care about you, and how you’d wasted so much time on this man who didn’t give a damn.

but even still, when you stirred in the middle of the night, you expected to feel his hands around your body. expected him to press a kiss to your head as you drifted back to sleep.

you woke up and expected him to be there. you forgot that he wasn’t yours. you found yourself missing him, even though you’d starting doing that far before you actually left.

it took the man you loved days to move on. it took you months— almost a year. he put you in fucking therapy, for god’s sake, because that shit messes with someone.

loving someone so completely, so wholly, only to finally realize it’s one sided? it’s crushing. he crushed you. but you picked up the pieces, and you put yourself back together.

you move on. find someone who actually cares for you— someone who communicates and doesn’t lose interest. someone who appreciates your enthusiasm. someone who returns it.

and when the man that broke your heart several years ago tries to stop you on the street one day,

you keep walking.

[eph3merall]

dealer!chris x innocent!bff!reader hcs 🦌

dealer!chris . . . who always has a part of his mind thinking about you. what are you up to? classes? work? friends? hangouts? he'll text you and pretend to not care much, but deep down he just doesn't want to admit how much he worries over this girl who is just his friend.

innocent!bff!reader . . . loves and adores all things autumn. her clothes are fall staples that include lots of denim and earthy tones. so whenever she's hanging out with chris and sees something to add to her closet or keep as a trinket or decoration, she'll look up to chris with pretty lil' eyes and how could he deny her? sometimes he'll purposefully look away and shove her away from the store because she keeps burning a hole through his pocket.

dealer!chris . . . despises situations where innocent!bff!reader roped into his 'job'. there are shady people buying some strong shit from him, and he knows matt would also screw him over if innocent!bff!reader got harmed because of him. matt sees you as a best friend, someone he needs to protect because his brother is a little fucking stupid sometimes. dealer!chris always tries avoiding problems when it seems as if you're gonna get involved with any of his deals.

innocent!bff!reader . . . who's had a boyfriend or two before. she's just never had sex, and once she told chris he was laughing at her and giggling with his eyes all red. 'fuckin'... you're jokin', right kid?' and when she tells chris she's dated less than five people he's laughing harder. gosh, what an asshole.

dealer!chris . . . always carries a lighter with a printed cat photo on it that innocent!bff!reader glued/taped onto it. keeps a picture of her in his wallet as well—a polaroid of her awhile back in the winter, running into the horizon as snow fell around her frame. he could hear the giggles she made just by looking at the photo.

innocent!bff!reader . . . who has severe nosebleeds once every few months or so. it'll get so bad to the point she's crying because she thinks she's gonna die—with chris grumbling all annoyed with his hand fisting her hair so it doesnt get caked in blood. sometimes hes high and just stares at times while she yells at him to get her a hairtie or to grab ahold of most of her hair.

dealer!chris . . . who's, again, literally just an asshole to everyone. you're barely an exception. one second he'll be laughing with you and once he's with a buyer or some of his friends, he'll act like you're some dirt on his shoe. plus he's just plain ol' mean. wont take bullshit from anyone, not even his brothers. matt pisses him off more than nick does. but of course, they're his brothers. so he isnt.. that mean.

innocent!bff!reader . . . who grew up sheltered from everything in life. her parents are overprotective and she's their only child—only serving to make them more anxious when she's out. met chris through nick since the two were in a class together. something clicked and they've been hanging out ever since, usually in groups. chris and his friends are nott a good influence on her. but her mother doesn't have to know, does she?

dealer!chris . . . lovess cute coupley things. he just won't ever admit it to anyone he knows, not even his brothers if they ask or jab at him. secretly, he loves it when innocent!bff!reader hugs him tight or brushes her fingers across his skin. but he'll always stick to his go-to response—a scoff and he's pushing her away, muttering some shit like 'god, fuckin'.. annoying as hell always touchin' me.'

innocent!bff!reader . . . tries getting herself off with her fingers for the first time in awhilee since meeting chris because he just makes her feel so weird. all hot and bothered and it's gotten so overwhelming that humping her pillow alone in her dorm room isn't enough, so she's sliding her fingers inside her cunt slowly and mewling all softly in the privacy of her dorm room. she doesn't even realize that she secretly wants chris to see her like this.

dealer!chris . . . fucks with girls left and right. a new chick at each party that he sells some drugs to, and, if they're pretty enough.. he'll let them suck his dick or something. hey, he got to cum down some pretty brunette's throat and got a fat stack of cash? win-win. but when he met innocent!bff! reader... she went to house parties with him sometimes. which resulted in him not getting to fuck a girl's throat-which also resulted in dealer!chris fucking his own fist at night with the thought of you in his head.

—

©eph3merall 2024

[mrsparrasblog]

Tf 141 and their kinks 

Price: Breeding kink 100%; he loves fucking you raw even when you take the pill. "Going to fill you up, nice Love" "going to fuck my baby into your cunt" calls you very often Mrs. Price, while fucking even when you aren't married yet. 

Daddy Kink: He always thought it was weird until you looked at him with dear eyes as your legs lay on his shoulders. "Please, Daddy, make me cum," and he was lost. God, he loves the power he holds, but also how well he takes care of you. John Price is the King of Aftercare; I stand by that. He is the perfect Daddy—rough but a sensual lover.

Gaz: cuckolding God, he loves watching you get fucked by someone else (especially the captain). He always sits like a good boy in the corner and strokes his hard cock lazily; he can't do it too fast since he cums in seconds. 

Another kink of his is fucking you in public, car, cinema, pool, and changing room. Name it; you did it. He especially loves the nights when you have these cute sundresses on and you're sitting in a restaurant, trying so hard not to moan while his long fingers work you open. He insists on walking you home instead of taking an Uber. "If you didn't want it, love, you wouldn't have worn that filthy sundress." He loves free access, and who are you to deny a wish to your pretty boy? 

Gaz is the best cook out of your whole team; he always experiments with different foods, so don't wonder when there is a bit of cream or frosting on your body and he licks it clean; it's only right to taste your own creations, right?

Soap: Don't judge me, but I think he has a lactating kink like that. The boy gets off on sucking on your nipples, even though you aren't even lactating. He is whining and begging like a sweet mess. Bonus points if you call him a good boy. 

Bondage: He is a switch, so you got shackled in ropes on the bed, unable to move as he edges you for hours until a slow breeze of air on your clit makes you cum undone. 

Bonus: I think he would be open to a foot fetish. He never thought he would be, but one day you put your feet on his clothed cock as a joke, and he squirmed like never before.

Ghost: Somnophila: Of course, only with consent, because he would never do something against your will. But, God, you look so sweet and innocent when you sleep. You even feel better when your mind doesn't think about how you look or how you sound—he loves fucking you awake. How your eyes open when you orgasm—his version of breakfast in bed—eating you out like a starved man until you're awake.

He loves a little breathplay on both ends; he loves choking you with his massive cock and how you gag and cry, but even more when you sit on his face, he would die between your legs, so you need to make sure not to suffocate him.

A hidden kink he never thought he had was when you rubbed yourself on his boots and he cums untouched in several seconds. Simon was embarrassed at first; you needed to reassure him that it's hot and nothing to be embarrassed about. 

Just a random thought again, lol. I know Ghost's kinks are almost fanon, but I wanted to give him different kinks that fit more with my headcanon of Ghost because I don't think he is a sadist; he is definitely strong enough and has tried it, but I think he also loves his Reader way too much and is afraid of hurting them.

[mayon3sa]

🗯️700 Days of you

SYNOPSIS: Part 2 for the infamous Bakugou texts

DISCLAIMER: Guys English isn't really my first language, though i understand it well i had my friend read over and give me feedback on what i should've changed and added I'm sorry if this is a let down but i tried really hard, i hope you guys enjoy any feedback is greatly appreciated, also I'm so sorry it took almost a week i kept scraping so many ideas sorry , ending was kinda rushed as well sorryyyy :((( <3

You've known Bakugou Katsuki for roughly 700 days, which is since you were 14. It's not like you knew him well, you just always saw him around your middle school, neighborhood, and at your parents' jobs. The first time you caught a glimpse of Bakugo was on the first day of middle school, the same year you would be leaving for high school. There wasn't anything special about that day, but what made you cherish that day was that he looked back at you as well.

The very first time you got to catch a glimpse of who Bakugou was as a person was through a school project. There aren't enough words in any dictionary to express your gratitude towards Aizawa for pairing you guys together. That day, you managed to get his number and meet up with him at a cafe. Looking back at that memory, you start to cry, not from sadness but embarrassment.

"Hey Bakugou, over here, I got some food for us," were the first words you had spoken to him directly. It seemed foolish to think about his response; would it be "Thank you so much, I love you, let's get married"? Not really. Maybe you had started reading too many romance mangas with Sero. "I don’t like anything that’s not spicy," he said bluntly, getting straight to the point. You would be lying if you said you weren't feeling as if he would explode any second.

"Oh, well, I can always ask for something else."

"There’s no need for that, let's just get started with the project."

"Oh, right. So, I was thinking..." As the afternoon soon turned into nighttime, you both had a pretty decent outline. Bakugou wasn’t bad, at least you didn’t think so. He was the type of person to get straight to the point of whatever he needed to communicate. Although he had trouble wrapping his head around the idea of teamwork, he was still there with you, giving you his views on your research and fixing the paper you had made.

When the night approached, you had both parted ways. That day, you could proudly say that Bakugou wasn’t as entitled as everyone made him out to be; he was smart. It came as a shock to you - getting used to his yelling was hard, but seeing him care for a school project and be somewhat smarter than you was even more surprising.

The second time you caught a glimpse of Bakugou was when you were at work. Not that you wished to be a stalker, but that's what it seemed like at the moment. As he walked through the door, both of you were stunned to see each other. Although you wished you could crawl into a hole and die in that moment, you still had to stay professional.

"Hello, welcome to Mitsumu’s Fashion headquarters. What can I help you with today?" This was the most embarrassing moment in your life. He just stood there staring at you before he spoke up, "Yeah, I’m just gonna go to my mom’s office. She told me to stop by to help her with a photoshoot." "Oh yeah. I’m supposed to be there. We can start the shoot in a few minutes. Just waiting for the next receptionist to clock in."

20 minutes went by, along with 20 minutes of your anxiety catching up to you, fearing what was to come. The shoot went by pretty smoothly in your opinion. Well, at least Bakugou posing in different outfits went well. The only thing that went south was when the other crew members whispered about you. It was as if you weren’t there.

‘She’s such a screw-up, why can’t they just fire her already i’m getting kind of annoyed having her around’ was a sentence that caught you in a trance, amongst the ‘ugh not her’ and the ‘she’s so weird’ hearing that sentence was enough to make you stop dead in your tracks. 

Words hurt. They seemed to cut deeper with every passing day at work. But then you realized that perhaps not all words hurt equally. It was Bakugou who made you believe in that last sentence.

“You two over there near the lights, you’re not discreet at hiding your gossip, instead of focusing on a teenager at your grown age you should maybe focus on doing your job, see that light over there go fix it. It’s your job. She’s doing hers quite fine, Such shame the person you seem to talk about put you both in shame”

He looked at you, and you looked at him. In that moment you knew that deep down the angry Katsuki Bakugou everyone was so afraid of was a mask to hide how he felt. You realized at that moment that Bakugou wasn’t a bad person at all, he just had issues, just like everyone else, And part of you understood that it was okay that he did that. Because by the end of that day, you could say, Katsuki Bakugou was a kind person.

In your eyes, Katuski was the kindest person you could think of if you get to know him that is, and although kind isn’t a word people use when describing him, It was what you thought of him, and you certainly loved viewing him as such.

Katsuki Bakugou, who stayed sleepless nights with you in a cafe reading romance novels and hearing you rant about your favorite character

Katsuki Bakugou, who always glanced at you when sparring because you would cough more normally than what your drawbacks usually are

Katsuki Bakugou, who when you have no money pays for your food and orders more to disguise it as an eating competition saying he would win and ends up giving you his food because he claimed he didn’t like it, even though it’s his favorite

Katsuki Bakugou, Who hated physical touch but would let you cling to him whenever you got excited, scared, or sometimes needed a shoulder to cry on

Katsuki Bakugou, Who isn’t good at comforting people but tries to show support in different ways and when he’s cornered for being soft will always reply with ‘I’m just telling the truth’

That was the Bakugou you knew, or at least you thought you did. But you couldn’t recognize who stood in front of you.

Bakugo Katsuki, who now stood in front of you saying words you wish you could cancel out “We were never friends, I only let you stick around out of pity”. Maybe this was the kind of person you tried seeing in someone. But not everything goes how we want it to go, do we? In the end, it was you seeking comfort in someone else when they probably didn’t want you around.

Maybe 700 days of thinking you knew Bakugou were probably reduced to 1, the one being today. You had concluded the person you once thought was kind was just a character you decided to make in your head.

“What’s up with you, you looked like you got run over” How you wish you could smack your best friend right now, “Shindo you think you’re so funny, could you at least pretend to care, you assface” Yo Shindo, the only person you could say has seen through you, not just physically but emotionally as well.

Shindo just never seemed to leave you alone, having met you at recess one random day in kindergarten. He had spotted you and just followed you around wherever you went. You hit him multiple times with rocks hoping he would leave you alone “You can’t keep hitting me with rocks that’s mean, and I’m older than you” were the first words he had told you.

“I don’t care if you’re older just leave me alone” “No” “ Why not” “Because” “Because?” “Just Because” From that day on Yo Shindo followed you everywhere and you listened to whatever he had to say. At this moment, you wish you had thrown a tree trunk at him when you were younger.

“Get up let’s go get ice cream, you’re even making ME depressed, I don’t know what happened at UA, you don’t have to talk about it just come with me to get ice cream”

“How did you get in my house in the first place”

“I broke in”

“You’re lying, no you didn’t Yo”

“I’m kidding your mom let me in”

Hanging out with Shindo was always a way to decompress however you felt in situations. Being separated from Shindo at the start of High School was always hard to get used to. Not having him come visit you during lunch always felt so strange to you, half of your life seeing him come to your door with two bento boxes just disappear into thin air, leaving you lonely almost every day.

“Shindo is there any way I could transfer to Shiketsu” 

“Not that I know of, why?”

“At school, there was this guy I started getting close with, I liked him a lot. Maybe as friends, as more, I can't tell my feelings apart but I know one thing. We started getting closer and getting to know each other, I thought he was a great guy, he would do things that just made me feel loved, not necessarily romantically loved but I felt seen with him”

“It was that comfortable feeling I get when I'm with you. If that makes sense, I thought he felt the same way since he also opened up to me. He texted me yesterday saying he didn’t want to be friends with me anymore, I thought it was a joke Shindo, i even went to the company to look for answers, I found him in the middle of a shoot and I was hoping he would tell me  it was a joke but in the end, he told me‘ We were never friends, I only let you stick around out of pity’.” That sentence alone was enough to let Shindo know how you were feeling and as if on instinct he was quick to hold you against his chest as you explained how you felt

“It’s stupid to think he would feel something about me, I feel stupid Shindo I loved him a lot. Whenever I was with him I felt seen, those moments with him made me feel that someone other than you loved me, I feel so stupid, I’m so stupid to think that the boy I fell in love with never existed, it was all just what I wanted to believe Shindo”

“He never cared for me”

It had been weeks since you told Shindo about what happened. Things weren't going great, but they had taken a turn for the better. After school, Shindo would pick you up and bring snacks. Sometimes, he would take you to the library after school.

Your occasional hangouts became more frequent, and Shindo started dropping you off at school in the mornings in addition to picking you up. You began to notice a positive change in yourself, and you were proud to say that you were feeling a lot better. You weren't the only one who noticed this shift; your classmates noticed it too.

"Y/N, you seem happier, especially since that guy started dropping you off and picking you up. Are you guys dating?" Mina was quick to ask you as you showed up to class one day.

"You mean Shindo? Oh, we’re just childhood friends. He started helping me train and with my school work," you replied.

"You guys are always together. It’s almost impossible to hang out without you having plans with him," Midoriya added.

"Sorry, guys. We’ve just been catching up," you tried to clear up any rumors that might have caused any miscommunication.

Everyone had their eyes on you, watching as you spoke so highly about your 'best friend'. Especially Katsuki; he watched as you smiled, recalling all of your memories with him.

It left a sour taste in his mouth watching as you talked highly about someone else. He was never one to express his emotions well, but with you, it felt easy to try and express how he felt. He knew from the moment he stayed up with you in a library reading ‘A Silent Voice’ that he was developing feelings for you.

He was never one to indulge in emotions, but having those deep talks with you every night made him feel dumb for trying to deny his feelings.

He never confronted his emotions straight away, no matter how much Katsuki tried to adjust; he just couldn’t accept the fact that he was growing in love with you. 'Falling in love' seemed like a terrible way to describe their way of loving someone else. But again, who is he to construe about love?

Not that he purposely wished for it to be that way. Katsuki wanted nothing more than to have done things differently back then.

As time passed, he couldn't get the image of you crying out of his mind. It pained him to see you that way. It wasn't just because he liked you, but also because he knew he was the cause of your sadness. The guilt consumed him, and the thought of you moving on only added to his pain. He couldn't help but feel like a fool for what he had done to you.

Katsuki was familiar with you. He knew about your favorite romance manga, your parents' connection to his, your love for fashion, your passion for romantic comedies, your favorite subject, and your usual order at the café where you both spent countless nights. He knew you well.

Katsuki knew all your fears - spiders, carnivals, clowns, open spaces, failure, and his mom when she yelled at your co-workers. He noticed all your symptoms and sometimes felt like both of your hearts were connected. He felt crazy saying it out loud, but those moments when you both trained together, you suddenly felt everything he could think of - dizziness, nausea, chest pain, shaking, and trembling. One thing that always stuck with him was whenever you felt anxious, you would bite your fingernails. Once, he took your hands and tried to stop you from doing that, and he noticed how quickly your heartbeat calmed down and started matching his instead.

"If anyone asked him why he was so in tune with knowing you on a general level, he would say out of courtesy. But if he was asked on a deeper level, he would say his heart was calm whenever you were with him, and he yearned for that feeling and you."

He always heard from his mom that love is the most powerful thing someone can experience, in friendships, relationships, or just emotional connections with someone. He believed the majority of what his mom claimed with thoughts of his own. Love is strong, but is it strong enough to make a person?

Certainly not he thought to himself as he watched you and Shindo laugh and push each other at the carnival.

He was tired of pretending he didn’t love you, but he was also tired of not knowing how to talk to you after developing feelings for you. He messed things up, and he knows it. 

It hurts to be something he so desperately wish he wasn’t, a uncommunicative person, but it hurts more than anything being nothing without you

You were gone, no one knew where you had gone they just knew you weren’t at your dorm

The only things left behind were boxes of letters and a blanket he had got you when you were sick. Everyone was distressed, teachers all around the dorms most reassuring students others talking with Nezu on finding out where you were

And all katsuki could do was hope he wouldn’t rip the letter you had wrote to him through his tears and frustration from how tight he held the letter to his heart, hoping some way you could feel how his heart was beating and in hopes of you coming back

Katsuki

Tho the smartest yet dumbest person i know,

If you’re reading this it probably means i left, well kidnapped in other terms, i’ve known for a while i would be taken, i had a gut feeling about this a long time ago so just in case i die, or don’t make it back alive i wanted to write something for you.

There’s so many things i wish i would’ve told you before i left, but sometimes not everything goes the way we wish for them to go, I Know you Bakugou, you’re probably mad i left, or you’re probably pretending to not care, maybe even wondering where i am, if you still care that is, you’ve always been the type of person to think about things too often.

That’s not the real reason i’m writing this letter for you, there’s so much i want to say but i’m afraid there won’t be enough time to do so, so i’ll say it in this letter

Katsuki Bakugou, I am in love with you, i have been from the 700 days of knowing you, but words aren’t  enough to describe how i feel, i left a box under your bed, every reason why i fell in love with you is written in all of them. If i do end up being alive i want to say it to your face

But if i am dead, i want you to know you’re the first person i’ve ever truly loved in this life and hopefully i can love you the same way in my next one

And with that i ask one last thing from you, you’re a person who hates changes but please, if anything does end up going wrong i want you to pursue your dreams for bring number one, i’ll always be cheering you on

So for now this is my last goodbye Katsuki, Thank you for making me feel so at home, i still

think about what happened between us everyday but i hope the best for you in life, even if i’m not there

I love you, thank you for being my friend

Y/N

You were such a dumbass. How could he not love you, when you constantly ran through his mind, he tried to keep his emotions in touch but just as he opened the box you left him he was met with notes and items that reminded him of you. What hurt him even more was reading through all the notes you had wrote for him

One particular note had shifted his emotions complete

‘Hey katsuki, remember that time i kept freaking out over my school grades and you comforted me saying it would all be okay? I still think about that moment and how you held me close to your chest and we layed in bed, in that moment when i looked up at you i saw the reflection of my LED lights in your face and all i could think about was you, i wanted to kiss at that moment from how pretty your eyes looked’

In that moment Bakugo Katsuki knew that what he felt for you wasn’t some simple puppy crush, he craved you he knew that whatever he tried convincing himself wasn’t true at the moment

Not when he was clutching your hairpins and notes close to his chest wishing the burning sensation in his heart would stop

Weeks had gone by, You had been found by the pro heroes and all he could think about was how he wishes he was the one saving you instead. But atlas he was glad you were safe

When he had gotten word you were found but your condition was critical he wanted nothing more than to just run out of the dorms and find you, but he knew he would’ve been stopped by the teacher. So he waited, he visited the hospital you were staying at everyday, constantly asking when they would be taking visitors 

Everyday he was met with the same answer ‘no’ ‘not yet we’ll let you know when she’s ready’. It was killing him not knowing whether he would get the chance to clear up his mistakes and confess to you.

But all of those thoughts suddenly vanished as he waited for the nurses to let him in

You had no memory whatsoever on when you had been rescued, according to the nurses you had woken up 6 days after being rescued by the heroes, and according to one of the nurses there was a boy who constantly kept looking for you, surely it was Shindo, the nurses had said they would bring him to your room

Shock wasn’t enough to describe how you were feeling at the moment, Staring at the guy you least expected in front of you was surely not on your bucket list at all, you were going to speak first until he beat you to it

“I have a lot to say to you so just listen to what i have to say first”

“Back then, i didn’t really know how to deal with the sudden shift in my heart, watching you smile and do things we would normally do, felt so different one random day, I don’t know when it started but watching the way your eyes would shine made my heart tighten, i knew that whatever was happening to my emotions wouldn’t go well on my part”

“So i distanced myself, i never meant any of the words i said at all, i was a asshole for saying that to you, i’m not expecting forgiveness straight away, but watching you get so close to someone else made me feel uneasy, not in a possessive way, but in a way that makes me remember everything you were doing with him you had done all of that with me”

“And when i realized my feelings and had everything sorted out, i was waiting to confront you but i waited too long and you had been kidnapped, When i read your letter i knew that if i were to get you back i would tell you as soon as i could, i didn’t wanna risk you leaving without hearing what i have to say”

“I’m in love with you, I grew in love with you and your stupid smile, your stupid rants, I love you like i’ve never loved anyone before. You’re the only person that has made me smile and I yearn for that feeling and I crave you most importantly. Before i met you i didn’t understand the true meaning of what love is but being with you made me realize it’s okay to not have everything figured out and just enjoy the present” he had finished off

“You’re an asshole”

“I know that”

“You made me cry”

“I know that”

“But at the end of the day it’s you i would rather spend all the time with arguing and clearing every mistake with katsuki, I love you and i hope we can both learn more about each other”

Though he didn’t kiss you in that moment he did pull you in a hug that warms your heart. Every day you’re thankful you got to know Katsuki 700 days of knowing him made your heart warm at the thought of getting to say you had feelings for Katsuki. Things would certainly be tough from that moment on but if it was with Katsuki it was definitely worth it in your eyes.

A/N: That letter part was heavily ib the galaxy is endless on ao3 ugh i love it sm

Taglist @makaylaislovely @emmab3mma @probablylia0 @socialkid @captainshindo @yourfriendlyweeaboo @st4rf0rlife @juliii @b2mmyy @sangwooswife @sunnydaychai @peyingbills @lemon-lav @tsumuus @itzjustj-1000 @whosmarjj @lovra974 @yourmajestyqueena @scarasw1f3 @tranquilcosmos @antriimx @siraxealot

[chellybean15]

Suck The Love Out Of You

Pairing: Father Charlie x succubus!fem!reader

Summary: When a sex demon walks into a church, she finds that the priest is a little bit irresistible.

Warnings: Smut!!! MDNI! 18+! Oral(m receiving), a little bit of ass play(m receiving), A little bit of fluff (because I'm a sucker for romance). Talk of murder and seduction. Flogging.

Notes: This my second fic I ever wrote so I apologize if its bad. This also my first time writing smut. The fic is a bit short, I couldn't figure out how to make it longer with the idea. This fic is actually really bad, gonna go cry now brb. Also I'm never writing butt stuff ever again. It made me uncomfortable but I aim to please, so i'll shut up now, xoxo.

The sky started to get dark as you were walking around, trying to find your next hunt. You were hungry, horny, and frustrated. You haven't had a man in hours and it was starting to get to you.

You're right by a church when you stumble upon the smell of a man. The realization that you'll finally be satisfied makes your panties wet. To quench the thirst, you walk into the church.

"Hello?" You question, looking around the church.

"I'm Father Charlie. Can I help you?" He asks. You rake your eyes across his figure. He's handsome. Something about him excites you.

" Hi, yes! I'm Y/n. I came here for some guidance. I have this dark side that hides in my head and I just wanna know how to get rid of it." You say, trying to make up a story.

"Please sit." He says as he points to the pew. "What is troubling you?"

Before you say anything, you take the silent moment to kiss him, trying to put him under your spell. At first you're unsure if he's even falling for it, until you feel him kiss you back.

His lips are soft and inviting. You crave more of him, so you force your tongue into his mouth. Which he easily gives in. After a few minutes of making out, he pulls away.

"We shouldn't be doing this. It's a sin..." He says aloud. He can't lie, you intrigue him but he knows that this makes him a sinner. Which he has dark secrets and desires of his own. You look at him weird and click your tongue.

"I'm a succubus. You really think I care about sinning? Yeah, i figured not." You declare, looking around. "Do you have a bedroom here somewhere?" You ask.

He nods and points down the hall. He gets up to lead you there. Thoughts are racing in his mind. What if he doesn't satisfy you? You're gonna kill him? His scarred back shivers at the thought. He wonders if this is Gods karma. Maybe he is supposed to die this way for his perverted thoughts.

Once you get to the bedroom, you push him on to the bed. Eager to get him out of his pants, you waste no time into pulling them off. After you get his pants off, you spot a box on his dresser. You walk over to it and open it up. The sight definitely shocking you a bit.

"Wow. You're a naughty boy, aren't you? Sex toys? That a priest owns? And you're worried about sex being a sin." You mock him. You pick up the butt plug. "We're sooo gonna use this. Not on me though. You!" You point at him. The look of panic on his face is priceless.

When you walk back over to him, you place the plug on the bedside table. Your attention back on Charlie, you get down on your knees, putting your hand under the hem of his boxers. Yanking them down, your eyes widen. His dick is huge, larger than any of the other guys you preyed upon. It has you wishing that he can satisfy you, so you can keep him around.

After staring at his dick for a few moments, you grasp it in your hand and bring it to your mouth. You look up at him to find him staring down at you with desperation.

Putting it in your mouth, he grunts. He grips your hair and pushes your head farther down, causing you to take more of his cock in your mouth. For once, you actually don't mind the man being in control. Bobbing your head up and down, you start to gag, causing spit to drip down his balls and on his asshole. It grants you an idea.

Pulling your mouth off him, you grab the butt plug off the side table. "You ready?" You ask. He nods eagerly. You put the butt plug up to his hole, that's covered in spit, slowly pushing it in. Once it's in, you look at him, proud of your work. Taking his cock in your hand again, you shove him back in your mouth.

This time your bobbing is deeper and sloppier which has him a moaning mess above you. You take your free hand and massage his balls while deepthroating him. After a few more minutes of sucking, he whines, "I'm about to cum." Which wasn't a really good warning since he came down your throat, a few seconds later. You pull off him, swallowing every last drop.

At the end of his high, he quickly gets up to find his whip. When he finds it, he brings it back to the bed so he can start his normal ritual for when he feels guilty.

"What are you doing?" You ask, a little bit worried. What was wrong with you? Had you grown a soft spot for the priest while you were blowing him? Of course not, you try to convince yourself. This has never happened before, you've never liked a man that you did stuff with. It was purely for your satisfaction.

"What we did was a sin, and now I need to repent. This is just how I do it." He says nonchalantly. He swings the whip back but before it can hit his skin, you catch the whip.

"Don't do that! Look, I understand that to you it might be a sin but I don't want to see you hurt yourself." You explain.

"Why?" He asks, stunned.

"Because I think I might like you, which is weird because this never happens. I don't want to see you hurt. Can we please just lay down on the bed?" She pleads.

"Yeah, of course. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you with the whole flogging thing." He states, as he pulls both you and him onto the bed to lay down. He can tell you're a bit sleepy.

"It's okay." You mumble. You crawl into his arms and let the noise from the wind lure you asleep.

[harleys1nhawaii]

PROMISE

pairing: dabi / touya todoroki x gn!reader

warnings: established relationship, bnha season 7 spoilers, fluff, little bit of angst, idk

a/n: wrote this after reading the chapter 426 shaking and crying. isn’t proof read and i don’t even wanna read this lol. i love him sm it hurts.

“you’re silent.” his voice is low and gentle.

your gaze falls from that one exact star you were eyefucking for the past 3 minutes and focuses onto a different one. it wasn’t that you loved the star that much. your eyes just couldn’t move as you imagined your boyfriends burnt to death body over and over again. it was fucked up, the way you felt your guts twitching inside of you, the way the lump in your throat tightened your senses.

it takes quite a work and resistance for you to not turn to him and let him see the vulnerability in your eyes.

you force out a dry chuckle, the smile that couldn’t reach your eyes falling down seconds later. you didn’t have the self strength to keep it on.

“am i?”

his eyebrows furrowed as he blowed out the smoke. he always knew this day would come, it had to. and it came off easy, because you also knew it. he had to face that man, had to kill him. his father. it didn’t sound right. you would call him anything but a father.

touya didn’t really know what would be your response, nor what would your behavior be like. you were as unexpected as him, but he also had your pieces in his pockets. hell, he had all of it in his mind. he knew you better than anyone, better than even you did for sure. but your behavior turned out to be more different than anticipated.

you just fell silent. kept putting on weird acts and seemed to accept.

in reality; you didn’t, really. you just had to think about it. poisonous thoughts that’s been roaming around your mind just weren’t letting you to come up with something. you bit your tongue and let your sharp nails abuse your palms. it shouldn’t have felt this horrible.

you feel an arm wrapping around your waist and drop your gaze to the owner of it. you didn’t realize him coming closer. he shifts you onto his lap with a quick pull of your body.

“talk to me, doll. i need to know how you feel like.”his gaze burns into your eyes. you feel distressed for a reason. your body squeezes in itself and leaves you breathless. you couldn’t point out the center of the pain but you felt it. buried deep inside your skin, very close to your heart. it was a burning desire to throw hands and do something. to prevent the loss and pain. though no matter how close it felt you just couldn’t reach it.

“i feel fine.” you mutter, fingers holding the cigarette harshly this time. you put the cancer stick into your mouth and just when you’re about to blow out the smoke, he draws it and throws it down the roof you two are sitting on.

“what the hell was that?” you can’t help but snap. ha takes your hand into his. your eyes meet his’ helplessly. a stern yet calm look was plastered on his face. you can tell there’s some worry on there too, it is concealed but you can see it.

“don’t do something you might regret later.” he says just about a whisper. it is visible how your face drops and your heart skips a beat. “don’t say stupid shit.” you snarl as your eyes dart around.

“i’m offended you’d insinuate that i was tryna be mean.”

“not insinuating, just warning.”

“stop fucking talking like that.” you raise your voice once again. if doing it would help you to swallow your tears, then so be it.

“talking like what?”

“like you’re gonna die.” your voice falls silent at the end. eyes filling up with the tears that you’ve been resisting to be seen for weeks. your gaze shifting from him once again, focusing on something else.

now he’s feeling that lump down his throat too. truth be told, he always had. but what could you say to someone that has dedicated their whole life to get revenge? “don’t”? “stay with me”? you knew better than to beg him. you knew nothing could stop him, not even you. therefore, you understood. you accepted that it was bound to happen sometime. but your mind just couldn’t work the information, couldn’t get used to it.

“doll,” he croakes, his voice is uncharacteristically soft. “i’m sorry.” your eyes falls on him once again, this time it was fast, almost hastily. and for just a moment, something in his gaze shifts. his eyes avoid yours and look to the side. now you’re the one chasing his eyes, funny.

“why?” you mutter. you don’t wanna sound scared, even though you do feel like it. maybe cause you just can’t help but think hiding your feelings will make them go away. you are a pretty hopeless yet funny individual.

“for worrying you.” he falls silent for a moment after that. “i don’t want ya’ to feel like this. though i can’t do anything about it.”

“it’s okay.” you say. this time you’re not trying hard to look perfectly unaffected and fine. “i understand it, i’m sorry too.” you can feel his eyes on you back again.

“why?” he asks in confusion.

“i don’t know. about everything, i guess.” a tear drops on his collarbone as you lower your head. dabi frowns again, exhaling a long sigh. you had nothing to blame, you hadn’t even done anything.

his right arm wraps around your waist tighter as he pulls you towards him. his lips just hover above yours, noses touching. your eyes focuses on his’ once again, and at that very exact moment, your hearts feel warm and whole again. almost like no matter how hurt and deprived one would feel, no matter the struggles and the wars that were went through, there was always someone to wrap their love around that shattered heart and make it whole again.

“i promise you, i’ll crawl back to you baby.” his voice is now a whisper, other hand moving to your cheek and cupping it in his palm. “at anytime, anywhere.” your cold body melts in his warmness, your head falling on his hand. it ignites something in him, a sense of responsibility. to come back and hold you like this again, to protect you from everything that can ever hurt you.

“what if you can’t?” your voice cracks. it’s almost unable to hear, but he does.

he brings his hand up and sticks out his pinky. a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips. (though, it was too heartwarming that he wouldn’t think he could do that)

the joy of blooming asters hung heavy in his chest. like the warm summer sun after the cold winter breeze. he never knew he could be capable of feeling this. and now that he tasted it, he didn’t wanna let it go. he swore on his life to keep it with him forever, not softening his grip on it for once. “the world is cruel, therefore i won’t be. not with you.”

your shaky hand rises from his shoulder and your pinky wraps his’.

“promise?” you ask. this time you feel that little spark of hope ignite somewhere deep inside your chest. you don’t wanna beg for impossible. you don’t want this hope to go on waste.

dabi usually doesn’t make promises. truth is, less than usually; he never does. but having experienced the innocence and longing of your love shattered and replaced all his senses. you were the closest thing to heaven he’d ever get. and dabi didn’t wanna go home.

he didn’t wanna set things on fire anymore. that’s all.

and he would give up forever to have you.

“i promise, doll.”

[radioactive-mouse]

i keep thinking about like. how the brutality levels vary between seasons and how secret life is the natural culmination of everything these people have been through and the watchers pushing everything to extremes. i’m going to try to articulate how crazy this makes me

3rd Life: god. 3rd life was a clear cut war. we haven’t seen a season since where nearly everyone has such an intense devotion to their chosen faction. the fact that there’s no precedent that they’re coming back next season, the fact that as far as they know, dying means staying dead, makes just how much they’re willing to go down with the ship that much more heartbreaking. grian ended the season exactly how it was played by damn near everyone else— i love you, i would do anything for you, i would rather die than keep going without you. the season of widows.

Last Life: and then they come back. and then ending things isn’t an option. and all of a sudden it’s not a war, it’s a death match, and damn is the competition is vicious. deaths are more often than not a vague, impersonal thing— not get away from my king, my husband, my charge— just the flash of a knife and a quick sorry, just playing the game! if 3rd life told you to hold the ones you love close, defend them to your last breath, last life urges you to burn that love out of your chest entirely.

Double Life: but everything slows down eventually. no more dying for the one you love— just learning to live with them. double life is about knowing that when you die, you will go together, hand and hand into the dark. a soap opera, the players joke. a small kindness, the universe replies. again, pearl wins the same way everyone else lost— no, not yet, please, just give us a little longer together, i’m not ready, i’m so sorry—

Limited Life: but the clock, unyielding, ticks ever onward. and god, everyone is starting to feel it. that sick, nauseating feeling of dread creeping up on them: what if it never ends? what if this is it, this is all that’s left for us— tearing each other apart over and over and over again, and for what? for a show? to feed those hungry things lurking in the dark? we’ll give them a show. bombs rain from the sky, the world shaking under the weight of it. there isn’t a thing left by the end that’s not rubble. we’re all doomed! the players cry, laughing with nothing but nihilistic, unrestrained joy. none of it matters! we come back again, and again, and again, have a little fun with it! light the fuse, collateral be damned. when death means so little, what’s the point in pretending they don’t take a little joy in it? we settle this like grian and scar before us, scott jokes, armor and weapons tossed to the side. are you insane? martyn thinks, remembering the hollow look that would wash over grian’s face when he thought no one was watching. it ruined him. it will not ruin me. this is a death match for a reason.

Secret Life: and here it is. the natural conclusion. this season is candy colored, the map dotted with cute pink houses and silly builds, the players all running around doing these ridiculous tasks. it’s so easy to forget how bloody this season was. unclosing wounds, bruises that don’t fade, the sting of fire or falling from a simple misstep. the hurt never goes away, but it gets easier to ignore— distract yourself with something silly to pass the time: spyglasses and frogs and the ugliest house you’ve ever seen and matching leather jackets and the doghouse and the relationSHIP and a weird tunnel full of doors and secret soulmates and god it’s almost, almost, enough to forget how much it all aches, how much the grief weighs on you, how many times someone you love has died, sometimes to your own blade. almost none of the grudges you hold are real by now, not really. not when you’re going to live and die with these people for as long as the hungry, many-eyed things delight in your suffering. you love each other, in the strangest way— sure you’ve all killed and betrayed each other in a thousand different ways, but at the end of the day, they’re all you have. clinging to each other in the face of the vast, unknowable horrors that drive you to slash each other to pieces. it’s still a game, after all. they’ve gotta figure out how to be good sports about it eventually.

[sweetiecutie]

🖤Fuck or Die part 2🖤

Part 1

Pairing: slasher! König x fem! Reader

Warnings: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, mdni, smut, non con so rape, violence, obsession, drugging, face-slapping and nose bleeding, choking, kidnapping, mention of murder. If you feel triggered by any of these warnings - just scroll past!

A/n: this took me way longer than I expected but yay, I finally wrote the second part!!! Also absolutely not me incorporating a quote from the movie bc I think it’s impossibly hot🤭

Reading part 1 is recommended for understanding the plot

Your life will never be the same. That damned evening changed you, everything around you, splitting your life into before and after.

Your memories of next few days after the murder were a sheer blur of events and conversations - numerous interrogations with police officers and detectives, psychologists trying to soothe you out of your stupor still, your mother crying her eyes out at the sight of you right after police arrived at the place of Paul’s death. And, of course, nasty journalists trailing behind you, watching your every move, invading your personal space unapologetically.

Of course, you were quite a catch - the first and only one who ever survived a meeting with König. Everyone wanted to know what he looked like - any particular details, scars or tattoos, a fucking skin colour - anything you could remember would be of huge use, giving at least any clues to a dead unmoving case. But there was very little you could help with - König took great care of covering every centimetre of his skin in black clothing, his voice changed, he smelled of nothing but earth and sickening metal of your boyfriend’s blood. Bastard was even smart enough to not cum inside nor anywhere actually, so that police couldn’t get his DNA samples.

A few months had passed since that horrific attack and there were still no traces of König.

It was midday when your parents had to leave to attend your grandma’s birthday - your mother was reluctant, not wanting to leave you all alone. You were never alone actually - a few police cars always patrolled right outside of your house, not allowing even postmen to get too close to your family’s property. It took a lot of reassuring and encouragement from your side to get your mother off your back, convincing her that you’ll be just fine by yourself and that you want your parents to have some fun. She then gave up with a deep sight, promising to be back in only a few hour’s matter.

You heaved a heavy sigh, closing and locking the front door after waving your parents goodbye, heading to the kitchen to grab yourself a drink. A pile of dirty dishes stacked in a sink caught your eye, the sight of its ugly mess on otherwise clean and tidy kitchen caused an itch somewhere deep in your brain. Without second thought you rolled up your sleeves, pouring dish soap onto the sponge and foaming it up.

As you were halfway through the dishes loud trilling of your landline phone calling startled you, causing you to jump on your spot. Your head whipped around, looking into direction from which the sound came. Wiping your wet hands on the kitchen towel you grabbed the phone, tucking it in between your ear and shoulder after accepting the incoming call.

- Hello? - you said, coming back to the sink, swiping foamy sponge over another plate, cleaning it of any grease and leftover bits of food.

- Hello! Um, can I speak to Paul? - your movements halted abruptly. You stood there silently for a long while, muscles stiff and unmoving, eyes staring blankly at some invisible point in the space before you.

- Excuse me, are you still here? Do I have the wrong number? - the man on the other end of the line said, his voice sounding concerned. It seemed to bring you out of your stupor as you drew in a long breath, exhaling noisily.

- Um, can I ask you how you got this number? - you said, already sensing something weird about this whole situation. But cops were all around your place, there was nothing to be worried about, right?

- Paul gave it to me himself. Said to call here if I needed to reach out to him, - man explained. That was strange but not unexplainable - Paul often hang out at your house, you wouldn’t be surprised if he knew your home phone number better than his own. - So am I calling right?

- Oh, yeah, sorry it’s just… Paul’s dead, - you said, teeth sinking into the inside of your cheek, sweet metallic taste coating your buds, but you couldn’t care less, nibbling deeper into small wound, feeling of slight pain grounding you successfully.

- Oh god, what happened? I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. But who am I speaking to then? - the man said, his voice now sounding genuine and apologetic. Everyone around Y/n suddenly sounded genuinely and apologetic. She heaved another sigh, resuming her scrubbing on the plates.

- He was murdered. And I’m his girlfriend, - you said in a calm tone, free of any emotion or feeling. Paul’s death was pretty much the only thing you talked about with others - police, detectives, police again, his parents and friends, your parents and friends. It seemed like such a sensitive topic turned into a rough callous way too quickly. - Well, I was his girlfriend, - Y/n mumbled after a short pause, faint clatter of porcelain audible in the background.

- Sorry about your boyfriend, - man on the line said. There was a brief moment before he added: - all those muscles didn’t help much, did they?

You froze. Silence settled in, interrupted only by occasional electric noise humming through the speaker. You heard your own pulse humping rapidly in your ears, your breathing fast and shallow, all muscles in your body tensing in alarm, straightening your back. Your eyes shoot up, looking out of the window above the sink. There were a few trees growing shallowly - barely an orchard - separating your house from your neighbours. No one was there.

- What’s that, sweet girl? You can’t see me? - a voice taunted, erupting herds of goosebumps running down your spine. - What a shame, I can see you clear as day.

- Neighbourhood is packed full with cops, you sick son of a bitch. If you only fucking dare coming anywhere close to my ho-

- Now-now, Y/n, - slasher interrupted you unapologetically, his voice hard and cold, causing thin hairs on your arms to rise. - Control your fucking language when you speak to me.

Your eyes dropped down onto the sink, fluffy dish soap foam was sparkling, playing with all the rainbow colors under the sun rays pouring in through the window. You clasped the phone in your non dominant hand, your dominant one reaching out and grabbing a kitchen knife from the drying rack, handle still wet and a bit slippery in your grasp.

- My, my, a dangerous thing that you’re holding. Be careful and don’t cut yourself, dearie, - König taunted, making your teeth clench. All blood drained out of your face, making you as pale as paper. Your eyes were fixated upon your window, peering into the orchard, desperately trying to spot any movement.

- What are you planning on doing? Everyone will hear if I scream. And cops will get your ass into prison, right where it belongs, - you spat out, pushing off the counter; your eyes ran all around the kitchen, looking for your cell phone with detective’s number saved, trying to keep the current call going so it’ll be possible to track it down.

- Oh will they? Then you better not scream, silly, - König snorted, making your blood boil. You were frightened still, terrified even; but the remorse of what he did to you, to Paul, was fuelling into your spite, making you a tad bit braver.

Failing to find your phone you entered the living room, rummaging through cushions and blankets piled on the couch, failing to find the stupid thing.

- Looks like you lost something. What’s up sweetheart? - you threw soft cushion back on the couch violently, huffing in annoyance upon not finding what you were looking for. You straightened and turned around to head to your bedroom, stoping in the middle of your tracks, freezing to the spot.

In the doorway leading to the hall stood König - dressed in all black, with heavy leather boots and his huge dagger strapped firmly to his thigh with a sheath, white scream mask staring right back at you. One large hand was pressing the phone to his ear, the other one was holding up your cellphone - the exact one you were looking for.

- You looking for this? - he asked, his own voice reverberating on the line because of your proximity.

You threw the phone to the side clutching onto the knife tightly. You dashed to the kitchen - there was a back door you could slip through - and outside was filled with neighbours and cops. Just pathetic six or so meters. Just a bit…

A scream tearing through your throat was muffled by a huge hand clamping against your mouth, the other one squeezing your wrist so tightly that for a fleeting moment you thought your bones were snapped, causing your grip on the knife to loosen, it falling down on the floor with loud clatter. König kicked the knife away across the kitchen, folding your arm back which caused your back to arch in pain - it felt as if he wanted to tear your limb from the rest of your body.

- Where do you think you’re going, Y/n? - König growled next to your ear, picking you up effortlessly and dragging your kicking form back to the living room.

Hauling you onto the floor König hooked one meaty thigh over your squirming body, putting bigger part on his weight down onto you, momentarily halting all of your struggle. One huge hand took ahold of both your wrists, pinning them to the floor above your head with frightening ease, his other hand was clasping your mouth still. He crouched down, scream mask was mere fifteen centimetres afar from your face as he seethed:

- Now you shut the fuck up and listen closely to what I have to say, and no one will get hurt, you get that? - he said, waiting until you gave him any sing of agreement. But you offered none. - You get that?! - König growled impatiently, bumping your head against the hardwood floor, causing black spots dance in the corners of your eyes for a long minute. You gave a weak nod, feeling hot tears running down your temples, getting lost among your hair.

- I’ve been thinking about you. A lot, - König sighed, hand that was on your face squished your cheeks together painfully, making your lips pucker out. - About this gorgeous mouth and pretty lips…

König crouched down, barely leaving a few centimetres between your faces.

- A this tight little cunt of yours. Remember how you clenched around me? How good my cock was filling you up?

- What do you want from me? - you weeped quietly, voice barely audible, broken by faint sobs and hiccups.

- Very little, dove. Just be an obedient girl and do as you’re told and no one will get hurt, - König tutted, taking in the sight of your crying face. Gosh, he was a sick fuck - his cock was already getting painfully hard, straining against his pants.

Letting go of your face König reached behind his back, withdrawing something from the rear pocket of his jeans. Just as you opened your mouth to cry out for help he shoved that thing inside of your cavity, slapping a hand over your lips so you won’t spit it out. The thing momentarily dissolved on your tongue, leaving a bitter aftertaste; you tried to struggle against killer’s strong hold, thrashing violently, but it led you nowhere.

Suddenly you felt hot - as if you had a really bad fever. Your mind clouding up rapidly, thoughts muddling, muscles becoming weaker by the second. You huffed out in frustration; moving your limbs a few centimetres seemed like impossible labour. World was spinning around you, blurring sharp and distinguishable features of König’s mask into a white haze.

König let go of your face once again, his now free hand slid down your body, cupping your sex through numerous layers of clothing separating you two. Sudden pleasure surged through your weakened body upon the contact; a loud moan that rolled off your tongue startled you - and suddenly you realised just how aroused you felt.

- Jeez, that dude didn’t lie about this shit, - König laughed out excitedly, watching your eyes widen in terror. You could barely move by now, not speaking of trying to fight off a man twice your size. His size. In a blur of all events, words and pain you never came back to just how fucking huge he was. You never mentioned that in any of your interrogations. How fucking stupid, huh?

Killer let go of your wrists cautiously, watching you closely - you rose your hands, resting your palms on his chest and pushing with all the might you had left, but it wasn’t enough to even push a cat off the chair - so that was the limit of your strength in this state?

König barked out another laugh - he was going to have so much fun with you! His hand never stopped massaging your crotch, noting a small wet patch forming on your shorts - you were soaked through your panties and now soaking your shorts? Gosh, he better buy a few dozens of these aids. Psycho’s eyes shot up to your face upon hearing a sob - tears ran down your eyes like small diamonds, turning your eyelids a pretty shade of red. König shifted forth so that his mask was almost touching your nose:

- Oh baby, I’ll be much gentler with you this time, I promise, - König cooed, pressing cold plastic of his mask against your flushed wet cheek, as if giving you a comforting peck.

Slasher shifted a bit, changing his position from sitting on your thighs to being in between them, yanking you towards him by your knees. He did quick job of taking your shorts and underwear off in few fluid moves, impatiently discarding them somewhere to the side. König felt his heavy cock twitch inside his jeans at the sight of your puffy cunny, all shiny from slick that practically oozed out of your fluttering hole. He swallowed hard, saliva was practically pooling in his mouth, having to restrain himself from tearing his mask off and devouring your cunt, exposing his face too early. You whined out something unintelligible, still trying to pry his fingers off one of your knees.

Your skin felt hot even through thick fabric of his gloves, so when König took one off and plunged two of his thick fingers inside of your tight hole he was surprised at how hot it was inside of you - one of the drug’s effects, he guessed. You couldn’t help but mewl at the pleasant feeling, your brain barely functioning, controlling yourself was beyond hard.

- That’s it, sweetness. Lemme hear all the pretty sounds you make, - König encouraged, plunging his fingers in and out of you, increasing the pace. Rough thumb coming to circle your slicked clit, causing your whole body to jolt softly. Scent of your pooling arousal was strong and prominent, seeping even through König’s mask, making him throb in his pants.

He couldn’t wait any longer. König was dreaming about your pussy being spread around his cock since that first night, he needed to be inside or else he’ll lose the remnants of his mind. Slasher slipped his fingers out of you, quickly undoing his pants, sliding them down as much as knife holster on his thigh would allow. Your breathing increased as you tried to close your legs, man’s bulky form making it impossible for you to do so.

- No, no please.. not again, - you begged, tears rushing down your temples, your voice meek and barely audible, so König just ignored it.

Pulling his girthy cock out König pumped it a few times with gloved hand, aligning pink swollen tip with your leaking entrance. It one smooth movement he bottomed out half of his impressive length, your body - flushed and pliant - taking him inside without any resistance. Low groan rumbled through his broad chest; König’s head fell backwards, hands gripping soft fat of your thighs, leaving pale marks of his fingertips on your skin.

You hated every second of it. Hated how his hips collided with yours with every thrust, how you felt him throb and twitch inside of you; hated how his hands wandered up and down your sides, rubbing your waist and palming your tits. And you hated how fucking good it felt. Hated how your body, despite all your attempts to resist, to fight off the effects of the drug, gave into the pleasure.

- That’s it baby. Just take what I give you, - König breathed out, his words slurred with pleasure. - See? See how good it can feel when you shut the fuck up and do what I tell you to? Just be a obedient little girl and feel good, I’ll take care of everything else yeah?

It felt as if a ball of bile got stuck in your throat; your face scrunched up in disgust as much as your jelly muscles allowed it:

- Fuck you, - you barely managed to choke out, your tongue struggling to form right sounds.

For a few moments you were sure König didn’t hear you, given the lack of any reaction nor acknowledgement of your words. But the next thing you knew was searing pain in your left cheek, the impact of man’s wide palm with your face jolted your head to the side, sudden change of its position made you felt dizzy. Now world was spinning around you even more so, you felt something warm trickling down your cheek - blood from your nose, you figured. Killer’s fingers roughly gripped your chin, yanking it back so that you were facing him once again.

- You wanna say that again bitch? Come on, I fucking dare you, - he spat out, movements of his hips halting completely, leaving his cock buried deep inside of your rippling warmth.

Your head shifting so harshly once again made you nauseous; you could barely see anything, dark purple circles were dancing all around, changing their shapes and giving way to greens and yellows to flood your vision.

- That’s what I fucking thought, - König gritted out. His hand let go of your chin, coming lower to wrap strong fingers around your neck. His hips started working with even more vigour, forcing his dick in and out of your drugged cunt on the pace that was almost inhuman.

Firm clasp of maniac’s hand around your neck made it nearly impossible to breathe. Both your hands wrapped around his mighty wrist, too weak to actually get him off you. Your vision started to darken rapidly, white noise trilling in your ears, barely allowing any other sounds to filter through.

- From the very moment I laid my eyes on you I fucking owned you. And I own you right now, and forever will. This is my fucking cunt, and I’ll use it whenever I want to. And I need you to fucking. learn. it. - König growled out, emphasising each of his last words with hard deep thrusts of his hips against yours, his cock making your stomach bulge, surely bruising your cervix.

- Oh but I’ll train you. Mould you into my personal cocksleeve, ready to be used whenever I feel like it, - his pace was quickening, thick cotton of his denim pants muffled filthy sounds of his mighty hips snapping against your ass. The grip of strong fingers never eased; König shifted part of his weight onto his hands which were wrapped around your neck, white mask hovering right in front of your face - milky white of it was a harsh contrast to blackness pooling in the corners of your eyes.

With that your conscience started to slip away. You felt your body jolt with every ferocious thrust of man’s hips, his cock buried deep inside of you, bruising your insides with its persistent bullying. Acute lack of oxygen burnt your lungs, and you prayed to all gods that König held your neck a tad bit too long - just enough for you to not wake up the next time. And just before you slipped into heavy delirium, your mushed up brain picked up König’s growl, penetrating through thick noise humming in your ears:

- You’re mine. Forever and ever.

Street was filled with all kinds of noise - sirens from police cars were going off triggering dogs from nearby houses, neighbours were crowding a bit afar, frowning and shaking their heads, everyone having their own theory of what happened. Loud cries of Y/n’s mother shook the air, putting everyone further on the edge. She is such a sweet girl, she’s never done anything bad! Oh god, why is this happening to her of all people?!

Some people were saying that the girl simply snapped, breaking under the pressure of events and finally fleeting the country without telling anyone to not give any clues about her whereabouts to the killer. Some said she just went out to unwind from being constantly watched by police and have some alone time - she’ll show up anytime soon. But everyone knew that it was one of murderer’s deeds - he did something to her. And everyone knew, deep down, that they’ll never see Y/n again - alive, at least.

A young lanky policemen, obviously green and not experienced in his job, was babbling out his report to the superior, all the other cops that were patrolling with him as well stood around silently, too scared to pipe in.

- Sir, I swear we were patrolling the area all this time, there was literally no one but the neighbours, but they were staying at their pro-

- Then you were not doing it well enough! - city commissioner barked out, his mighty vice silencing everyone around for a short moment. His face was red, fuming with rage; nostrils flaring with intensity of his heavy breathing, angry vein popped up on his temple, pulsating in tandem with his rapid heartbeat. His heavy gaze shifted between all the poor officers, their faces pale as chalk.

- You had one fucking job. ONE fucking job - to keep the girl in the sightline - and where is she now, huh? I’m asking you motherfuckers - where is Y/n?! - Mr. Lindner barked out, his heavy voice making everyone jolt. Younger officers stared down on their shoes blankly, not daring to meet eyes with their boss.

- You may consider yourselves lucky if you’ll still have your licences by the end of the week, - commissioner Lindner tsked, spitting onto the ground in remorse. Turning around, he headed to his police issued car, shouldering all those nosy ones who were brave enough to approach him in this state. Getting inside Mr. Lindner closed the door with a loud bang, starting the engine and pulling out of the driveway onto the main road.

Commissioner Lindner drove in full silence, blue eyes fixated on the road ahead; it was barely past midnight, but the darkness hung thick all around, being slit by two yellow rays of his car’s headlights. He gripped steering wheel tighter, one hand coming to comb back his grown out hair out of his eyes, a small smile played in the corners of his scarred lips.

Soon he’ll be home - maybe the effects of drugs will wear off by that time and he’ll watch Y/n wake up slowly, those pretty doe eyes of hers gazing up at him drowsily. He will cook her dinner - all of her favourites - and maybe even spoon feed her, if she’ll allow it. Then he’ll bathe her and tuck her in her new bed, locking up the door for the night and watching her sleep through the cameras.

Everything was going as smoothly as ever. No one has accidentally seen him dragging unconscious Y/n out of her house and hauling her into the backseat of his car. No signs of struggle or fight were found - kitchen sink was still half-filled with soapy water and dirty dishes, clean ones drying off on the countertop, a knife with all the fingerprints being drowned among other dirty utensils. Y/n’s parents approved that everything was on its original place - as if the girl just disappeared, dissolved into thin air.

No one suspected a thing. And, of course, no one suspected a respectable city commissioner Lindner with years upon years of experience, a veteran with impeccable reputation, a person no one could speak badly of.

This was the beginning of your new life, life in which everything revolved around König, causing you to cling onto him as if he was some kind of goddess. Life in which you no longer belonged to yourself, but to your abductor. Life in which you finally understood that you don’t need anyone or anything else because you had König, understood that König was your life itself <3

Slasher! König Masterlist

A/n: I apologise for giving König a half assed name, but I thought it’d be really cool for the plot😌

Once again, feedback is highly appreciated! I’m making this a series so feel free to send in your suggestions for more slasher! König content<3