#Insane reader

[nahctar]

I dreamed about this last night, and it was based on season 1 rex and i farted whilst thinking about it when i woke up. I HAD to draw it

[danniloversugar]

(Bad grammar, Not proof read give tips 🙏)

11:00 pm

-----------

December 21st XXXX

———————

Gotham

`It was a cold winter night, the moon is shining brightly, illuminating every single part of the city. It's cold, very very cold. Why were you outside again? What was the reason? Why are you walking down this cold, dark streets of Gotham? Why? You were following a white rabbit and then- Oh, right...Dad Bruce Wayne, it's because of him. It was a cold winter night in the Manor, alone. Everyone was minding their own business. You? you were walking down the long hallway of the manor, your footsteps thud against the marble floor, you were following a white rabbit as it hurriedly hops away, it slowly disappears as it led you to a doorway, filled with voices from behind, you stepped forward. You placed your ear against the wooden door, you heard your father's voice. Talking to a stranger, a doctor? A police? You didn't quite see, nor can you quite hear clearly due to the door being shut. But all you could hear was... Dangerous, violent, and crazy. And the one thing you've never expect to hear one thing from your Father's mouth was... Arkham asylum, putting 'you' in Arkham asylum. Hearing that from him, everything starts getting hazy, blurry, everything around you is...Oddly moving. As your vision clears you see the white rabbit again, dressed in a small fine suit and a big blue checkered bow along with a monocle it always wore. Upon noticing the white rabbit, it hops and hops away once again, you didn't think twice as you started to follow it down to your own rabbit hole. Doom.

Now, back to where you are. It's very cold, you're cold, lost, and alone. You want Alfred's cooking, you want to taste it again...But you don't want to see them. You hate them. They're so mean. So rude. If they're in wonderland they would've been kicked out by now or for better, maybe the queen of hearts chop off their heads.

You stopped walking, you're very tired, your legs ache. You want to go back even though you hate them all, Damian must've still hate you for killing his other dog, it was so loud it's so annoying and it was SO mean for attacking the poor white bunny, he possibly couldn't have blame you for defending such an innocent animal! He should've not released it at the first place! It was not your fault that all Tim's files were missing, he lied about you destroying it! What a liar! He just hates you! He was ignoring you! And it's not your fault that there were small needles in Jason's sandwich! He was mean! Very mean! He pointed a gun at me! He deserved it! It was not your fault that Dick's equipments were all a bit...Unscrewed. It was not your fault he almost broke his neck! He kept defending Damian! You were hurt! He deserved it! And your father- Bruce, he was the most meanest of them all! He's harsh, very harsher than the queen of hearts. His heart must've been ripped out by the queen of hearts, maybe that's why he's been so cold to you! How cruel!

You huffed, a white puff of smoke formed due to the cold around you. Kicking a pebble, you sat down on the hard stone pavement. You're cold. You want home. No matter how much they hate you, or no matter how much you hate them. You want out. It was so cold... You should wait. Maybe someone will come for you, maybe Mama will come for you! That's what she always promised... When you're alone...She always will come and get you...Right? Maybe that's the same as before...You just have to..Wait. Yes... You're a good girl, you'll wait. You just..Have gotten... a little lost. A little patience wouldn't hurt. Would it? Right..Waiting...Waiting...And Waiting. You've waited until the clock strikes 12:00.

Unbeknownst to you, you're not quite alone. Someone is with you, A white rabbit, and a Mad Hatter.

[saintlucretia]

the feeling when your fictional crush is so wild you can't even defend them:

[the-faceless-bride]

@xxshadowbabexx has inspired me! With this fic, I've decided to take it to the extreme. Because I love extreme and insane readers, it's my favorite. So this is gonna have a big warning for mean cheater 141 (most of them) and dark yandere like reader that will hurt people.

Warnings: AN ACTUAL INSANE READER! READER IS A YANDERE! FULL ON UNHEALTHY AND DANGEROUS YANDERE PERSON! A VERY BAD INDIVIDUAL! Cheating, gaslighting, making your partner listen/watch you have sex with someone else, blood, needles, violence, kidnapping?, blackmail, stalking, forcing to take medications implications of Murder, implications of necrophilia, manipulation, dubcon-Noncon affection, kissing, reader putting marks on themselves, hugging, im serious if you are sensitive to dark content then don't read this. There's a lot of uproar about dark content and im telling you please don't read it if you don't like it. Both The guy and reader are NOT good people. reader is insane. You've been warned.

Also, I wrote this while listening to Emotion repeatedly as I thought it was fitting in a psychotic way.

Characters (in order) - Soap, Konig, Ghost, Gaz, Price, Alejandro (no Graves or Roach, sadly I don't know enough about roach to write for him and I must inform you I am not a Graves Girlie. Maybe if you have some good Graves fic I can get into him but as of now Graves just doesn't do it for me, sorry.)

Whether you like it or not.

Soap - you were seeing signs everywhere. lipstick stains, perfume that wasn't yours, hickeys you didn't remember giving him. You were certain he was cheating, but with whom? You tried poking at him now and again but he would always say the same thing, "I don't know what you're talking about Bonnie.- Bonnie don't be so paranoid this cock is all yours. I promise.- Bonnie I don't know when you became a crazy jealous person but it hurts me you think I would do that."

All lies. You knew they were. You just never got any proof. At some point, you thought you were going crazy. but that was until you came home early one day after staying a night at your brother's new house. Johnny was home but there was another car... Your best friend. Johnny had her bent over as he sucked on her neck. You watched for a moment before hiding behind the wall, you had come just in time for them to finish and start re-dressing, you let the rage fester and infect you, feeling the anger and sorrow of the betrayal of not only the love of your life but your trusted friend.

When they both emerge from the bedroom and your friend locks eyes with you and her lips start trembling the rage finally boils over. Meanwhile, Johnny made his way to you. "Bonnie it's not what it-"

You shoved him from you storming your way to your once friend grabbing her by her hair and screaming in her face, you can barely remember what you said. You were in such a rage you had let spurs of names, insults, and threats all one after the other. Only stopping when you felt a strong hand pull you away. "Bonnie stop you're scaring her! It's not what you think!" you yank your arm from his grasp, "you're defending her?! You son of a bitch! You get her the fuck out of my house before I rip her fucking hair out!" you threaten and she scrambles out between the two of you. You follow her to the door, never reaching out to grab her but you yell at her the whole way out to her car, when she drives off you make your way back into the house to deal with Johnny.

"How dare you. HOW DARE YOU! YOU MADE ME FEEL LIKE I WAS CRAZY!-"

"YOU ARE FUCKING CRAZY BONNIE!- you're acting crazy right now!"

"CRAZY?! You were cheating on me! WITH MY FRIEND! I saw you!"

" You don't even know what you saw."

He begins to turn away from you... He thinks he can fuck you the night before. Tell you he loves you. FUCK. Your best friend. Then tell you you're crazy. AND GO BACK TO RELAX IN YOUR BEDROOM?!?!

You let out a cry of anger, betrayal, and disbelief as you pick up the big decorative clay vase before giving it a big swing and smashing it to pieces over his head.

Johnny slowly turned around "Bonnie..." blood trailed down the side of his head, trying to take a step towards you but lost his footing, sliding down the wall and slumping to the floor.

------

Johnny woke up, his head pounding and his body chained to the cold hard ground. His head was wrapped and disinfected. He tried to get up but he was stuck. The chains were thick, whoever did this knew normal cuffs wouldn't hold him.

"Hey, baby." Johnny looked to his side, you sat at the top of the stairs to your basement. "Bonnie- wha- what happened? ... What did you do?"

You smiled and walked down the stairs before standing in front of him. "Johnny. You know I love you.", he stares at you. Maybe he'd pushed you too far.

"Bonnie. I- im sorry, let's jus talk bout this and we can-" he tried to reason with you, maybe if he could talk to you he could talk you down. Reverse a little bit of the damage he'd done.

"oh no, Johnny. I thought you liked my friend. So I thought I could give you one last hurrah! Before you don't get to see anyone again!"

You started walking up the stairs and Johnny began to slightly panic, "c'mon bonnie, I am sorry. Plus! You can't keep me here, the team would come looking for me!" he tried to reason.

"no! You are off due to injury remember? You are here for a good three years! And if it takes longer than you to break... Well, im sure I can give a convincing enough lie that you never made it home. Send them on a while chase looking for you!" you called from the top of the stairs, before grunting, and a large thud was heard as it banged on each step down the stairs.

Oh God. It was her.

It was her. Your friend. Her eyes were glassy and drained. Skin pale and bruised. Bloodied. Dead.

"well, Johnny. Have the last bit of your fun."

"wha- what..."

"do it. You don't want to feel what she did do you?."

"What?"

"you don't want me to have to hurt you, Johnny. Don't you?" you threatened. And Johnny knew he didn't have a choice.

He took hold of her cold body, these three years would be hell for him... He prayed that he wouldn't break...

Konig - you couldn't believe him. You'd caught him in the middle of undressing another woman. She screamed when she saw you in the doorway which prompted Konig to turn around in horror as he made eye contact, he stood up and tried talking to you as the woman rushed out the door sloppily dressing herself.

The excuse he gave you made your eye twitch and your fingers itch to wrap around his neck and squeeze. The only thing stopping you was his size. You knew that if you tried he'd have you on the ground in a matter of seconds. "I just wanted to prove to myself I was good for you!" you took a long look into his eyes. Before laughing. You laughed at him. And you laugh good and hard for thirty seconds, of non-stop hysterical laughter. And every time you looked back at him and saw his hurt expression it made you laugh even harder.

After your laughing fit you went eerily calm, before telling him in a straight face, it's ok. I forgive you.

-------

But Konig quickly got the idea that it wasn't true. One night when he came home from a mission, he heard strange noises coming from your bedroom. Konig tried to tell himself it wasn't what he thought. Maybe you were taking care of yourself? Maybe you were watching a video, or maybe... But Konig couldn't deny it for long as he heard the sound of a man grunting and you saying his name, Konig made his way to the room and there you were.

You were on your back the man was hunched over you his face in between your neck and shoulder, you Could see Konig standing behind the Man as the man continued to push his cock in and out of you, unaware of the danger he was in. You moaned louder to taunt the large dangerous man standing behind your lover for the night. "yes! Oh fuck! That's it~" Your moans were fake. Konig knew the difference as he'd heard your real moans many many times. "oh baby~ you're so much better than him! You know how to please with that cock~" you tried not to cringe at your fake words; this guy had no rhythm, no drive to please, and his cock didn't even brush against the spots Konig's cock bullied inside you. But you didn't care. You just wanted to hurt Konig. To bruise his heart and his ego. And it worked.

Konig grabbed the man by the hair and pulled him off and out of you, the man screamed in shock but you remained silent. Watching with a spiteful grin, Konig was just gonna toss the guy out. But then he noticed something... He wasn't wearing a condom... This random man had fucked you raw and came inside you... Dead. This man was dead. Konig didn't stop slamming his fist into the man, his jaw, his head, his neck, his ribs. Anywhere Konig could reach.

The man lay still on the cold floor. Barley breathing. He had some time before he succumbed to his injuries but Konig wasn't in a rush to help the man who fucked his love.

"how could you do this? Why would you hurt me in this way!? You- you-"

"I just wanted to be good enough." you said bluntly

"What...?"

"I just wanted to prove to myself I was good enough for you... That's just what you wanted too... Right, Konig?"

Ghost - he did it again. Lied again. Fucked someone else in your bed again. Again. And again. And again. You didn't get it. Had you not been perfect? Had you not helped him through night terrors? Through panic attacks? Through tearful nights when he had a particular dream about his family life? You were tired of it. Coming home and hearing moans that weren't yours. Finding used condoms that you know he didn't use with you. Clothes that weren't even close to your size were found under the bed or stuffed somewhere in his car. You hated it. You hated him. But God... You loved him. You knew he wasn't good for you, but you wanted to love him and he loved you in return.

He was out again, with his team... You hid in a seat in the far back of the pub. So out of sight Ghost still hasn't noticed you. But you noticed him, chatting up with a pretty blonde at the from of the bar. You hated her. You didn't even know her. But she had something that you didn't. You don't know what it is, but it must be something good. If Simon was out looking for it from her instead of you.

She giggled and batted her lashes at him, you don't take your eyes off them the whole time. You told Simon you'd be gone for the weekend. So when you noticed they were about to leave, you rushed to your car speeding to your house. Parking somewhere Simon wouldn't see, rushing inside and lit some candles, and pulled out some wine. And fix your hair to make it look like you had a romantic evening planned.

------

When Simon walked in he was sloppily making out with the woman his hands running up and down her curves.

"Simon?" you asked quietly playing dumb. As if you hadn't been watching him, you'd been watching him for a few months now. Just out of sight. Plotting how you could go about your revenge. Ghost would be hard to break. He's emotionally dead and doesn't let much get to him. But everyone has a breaking point.

Everyone.

This caught Simon off guard. You weren't meant to be home. This caused a reaction from the woman he brought home, apologizing to you over and over begging forgiveness as she didn't know. Then turning to Simon and giving an earful of disgust at what he had done and was going to do with her all while having a loving and caring lover at home.

You played it up by crying, just like you'd done the first twenty times he'd done this before. This time it was fake, asking what you had done to drive him away. Making the woman chastise him further. Before shaping him and walking out.

After she left you stopped crying, which also caught Simon off guard. Normally you would go one of two ways when catching him in a lie or with lipstick stains on his shirt. You blame yourself and Simon reassures you that you are overthinking and not thinking straight (a lie) or you blame him and he says it hurts him that you a person he trusts let down his walls for (lie) and would accuse him of things he would never do (another lie)

But this time you did.

"You're just like your father." **SLAM**

Simon had instantly slammed you into the wall, his hand around your throat.

"don't. Don't you EVER say that again. I'm nothing like him. I protect and serve. Nothing like him." he looks at you with a hatred you'd never seen before, it made you smile on the inside.

"oh- really? You hurt me." You choke and Simon tightens his grip, warning you.

"you lie to me. You cheat on me. You tell me you love me and don't mean it-" **squeeze**

"you hurt me. Just like he hurt your mother-"

"SHUT UP." He slams you again,

"You're hurting me right now. Just like him." Simon takes a moment before dropping his hand from you as if you'd just burned him.

He stumbles away from you. But you follow, "It's ok Simon. I promise to forgive you. If you promise not to hurt me again."

You were fucking with him. You sounded like his mother, promising to not leave or tell as long as he promised to stop hurting you. Just like his mother pleaded with his father. So so many times.

You smile at him. He rushes away reaching for the door and opening it a crack, "Simon. Don't go. Don't hurt me. Not again. Be good. Promise me."

Simon's head was spinning, trauma and pain in the front of his mind.

"promise me, Simon."

Simon shut the door.

"I promise," he whispered.

Gaz - you didn't want to believe it. He was different. You knew he was! He was the one who made this place a beautiful world. He wouldn't. He couldn't! Your heart wouldn't be able to take it. But your world came crashing down on you, you had found panties that weren't yours and you had begun to panic, no. No, he wouldn't. This is a misunderstanding. You're gonna call him. He's gonna answer and be with his mates and clear all this confusion up. Yeah... Yeah, that was it!

You called Kyle and after three rings he answered, that's a good sign! And you were relieved. But that was quickly taken from you. A woman moaned into the phone as Kyle praised her in the back, "That's a good girl, let her hear you. She her your mine baby." your mind turned to static only a few words and phrases were heard,

"mine... Good girl... My girl. .. Perfect... Sweet... Pussy made for me..." your heart racing, pounding in your ears. It cries. It aches... How can this be fair? You stayed on the phone, on speaker as you hurried around the house. You had to fix this. Who was she? How dare she try and take your place.

You were made for Kyle. Not her. He said it to you so many times. He had to be lying to her. She- she must have forced him. That's it! That's the only thing that makes sense. Why would he cheat and answer the phone while doing so? That doesn't make sense! It was her you know it.

It hurts now. Knowing your darling was being taken advantage of. Don't worry Kyle darling. She'll learn to keep her damn hands off...

-------

Kyle came home around 11:50 PM, she truly kept him locked away. Your poor baby. Forced to do such disgusting things to her.

"Lovie? Are you in? I- I don't know what came over me I-" he gets interrupted. You're hugging him. Kyle stands still. Confused. He thought he was gonna have to convince you he was trashed, filled with alcohol, and didn't know what he was doing... But you're... Hugging him? "it's ok Kyle. I know it wasn't you. I know." Kyle for a moment, thinks things he's maybe gotten away with it. "don't worry, I won't let it happen again."

What?

Kyle jumps feeling a pin in his neck, he jolts shoving you to the ground causing you to hit your cheek hard on the floor, you whine as you sit up holding your hand to your cheek. You forgive him, you expected him to fight. That's why you didn't tell him your plan to keep him safe in the first place.

Kyle reaches behind him, pulling out the syringe that stuck out from his neck. His eyes quickly become blurry and his body slow and off-balanced. He tries to say your name but he can't his tongue is heavy and his throat is tight.

He falls to the floor with you.

When Kyle comes too; his head is pounding, his throat is dry, and his right cheek hurts. He tries to get up but he can't. He's strapped down to the bed. Kyle starts to panic, what happened last night? Where-

"good morning darling." Kyle whips his head to you, causing it to pound loudly in his ears. "what- what happened, where?-" You smile and sign as you set a tray of water and medications on the bedside table. "you're at home with me darling." you turn to him placing a damp cloth on his head. "why am I strapped to the bed?"

"well I couldn't trust you would stay put, would I?"

Huh?

"oh! Also, I made sure you won't ever be bothered again!"

"bothered?"

"yup! That woman from last night she won't hurt you anymore!" Kyle stared at you confused, she didn't do anything. He approached her and went back to her place, telling her that you were a crazy ex and that's why she agreed to let him answer.

"but- she didn't do anything." you frown at him, "She must have messed your brain up bad. It's ok! I'm gonna help and fix you!" you say as you reach for the tray.

A syringe and glass bottle at one end of the tray next to some pills as well as a bottle of water. He stared with wide eyes, "don't worry the pills are just to help with the pain from hitting your head."

"and the needle..."

"just for safety, I don't want to use it but I can't have you straining yourself and leaving ugly wounds on your precious skin my love."

Kyle tried to remain calm, he didn't know how much of your words he could trust. You held the pill out to him waiting for him to open his mouth but he didn't... You sigh, you didn't want to have to do this. You pick up the needle dipping the end into the glass bottle, filling it with liquid.

Kyle began to struggle and you held him down trying to keep steady while injecting the clear liquid into his arm. Kyle felt his body weaken, not in a sleepy way but his body started to not respond right away. You opened his mouth and shoved the pill inside, your eyes getting teary. why was he making this so difficult?

After giving him some water after a struggle and him trying to spit the pill out, he finally gave in. He'd try and reason with you later, right now his head hurt and he was tired.

You climbed over him. Kissing his cheek and snuggling him, he'd see you love him. You're hear to help him. Protect him.

He'll come around. You know it.

Price - You'd been running around all day preparing for Price to come home, you'd been waiting for so so long to get your hands on him again. He's been gone for eight months, you were sure he'd be aching for you. Just as much as you were for him.

But when he came home he was... Off. He wouldn't tell you what, "later" he'd tell you over and over "later" you thought maybe something happened on the field. But all his mates were alive you know that. So what went wrong?

It's not until a month later that he breaks the news. "Darling. I'm so sorry, but- I just- a lady at the Bar..." and then everything went silent to you. Price... Your husband. Your John... Jonathan Price had cheated on you.

You hug him, mid-sentence. He starts crying, begging you for forgiveness. Crying to get you to stay. Crying to be given one last chance. And you give it...

"I'll stay. I love you. I need you. I will give you one last chance-"

"thank you- thank you, Darling, I- I promise-"

"but. I get to give you the same pain."

"w-what?"

"im going to have sex with someone. But you won't know when. Where. Or who."

"D-Darling,"

"it might be a stranger from a Bar. It might be one of your mates... You won't know, and I won't tell you. You'll have to figure it out."

----------

It's been months now, and John has been paranoid. You go out of your way to stay late after work hours, to go out with your friends and not come home till late in the night, you hide your phone, and you grab yourself harshly to leave bruises.

John questions you about everything. Why did you stay late? Who was with your friends, and who did you meet? Why are you hiding your phone, who are you texting?... Where are the marks coming from?... He's attached to you any time he can be, and never leaves your side. And goes out of his way to please you.

Showing you that he will make up for his flaws, his mistakes. Showing you, that you don't need anyone else. Showing you he's sorry.

You never slept with anyone, you contemplated it. But you couldn't. You loved him too much. But he didn't need to know that, he's never been more attached to you than he was now. He even put work aside.

Maybe if you keep him on his toes, he'll become dependent on you. You know you can do it. Make him crave you and need you as much as you do him. It's just gonna take time, lying, and patience. You'd break him. You know you can. Nobody in the military could break this captain. Nobody. But...

They didn't know Johnathan Price like you did.

Alejandro - Alejandro was out at a bar, he had just gotten back from a mission. A long, tedious, and dangerous mission. You wanted to surprise him! You'd missed him so much, that you planned to 'Coincidentally' run into him at the bar. you knew when he came home, what time, and with whom. You had a few trackers and bugs planted on him, namely his phone and the bracelets he got back on his way home.

It was the way you got to know him so well in the first place, you were a friend and a trusted one at that. You knew if you planted a bug or two he wouldn't suspect a thing.

Now and again you would do this he would mention or mumble about in his own time, it would amaze him how you had done what he asked, "just a hunch" you would tell him. You didn't do it all the time to not make him suspicious but you did it when you knew he needed it. Which made him fall you you that much more.

You had dolled yourself up just a bit and made your way to the bar he was at with Rudy and you quickly became on edge.

"im flattered, ha," Alejandro laughed as the busty brunette pushed herself into his personal space, she brushed her nails against his arm. You feel an itch, an itch deep inside as your face turns red.

Why? You thought he was different, and yet here he was. You were ready to return to your car and wait for him... But then you saw him push her away.

"get off. I'm not interested, I already told you I'm in a loving relationship, now leave me alone." he put his foot down. And she pouted and huffed before walking away. You smiled and ran over to him, putting your plan back into play.

---------

You laid in bed, skin-to-skin. Still a little sweaty from the rough session you and Ale had. You kiss him, "im gonna clean up," he hums in response. He's drifting off to sleep and you smile at how comfortable he is with you.

You turn the water on, letting it run warm before stepping in.

You let the hot water run down your body as you wash your hair, you think about earlier. Your heart flutters.

You were so thankful, thankful he rejected her. He honestly scared you for a moment.

You thought about what you would've done, you were silly. You then thought about the bag of rusted sharp tools that sat in the trunk of your car. You were so silly to think you were gonna have to get ugly with Him.

[bibbysstuff]

As Sweet As Syrup

(dont mind the messy lines it was rushed)

[soapcloth]

neighbour!Ghost x reader

Consistently tossing a polite little ‘good morning’ to your scary neighbour when you cross paths on your way out of the house, and every single time you’re rewarded with no more than a noncommittal grunt passing his notched lips or a level stare and a flick of his cigarette, something making it clear he’s not all too pleased with the social interaction.

One day, you decide you’re pestering him too much and just stop. 

Walking past him with your head low, he has the audacity to whistle at you like he's calling for a pet- and it works. 

He looks inconvenienced, his gaze accusing you of something along the lines of ‘-how dare you disturb the morning routine you've gotten me accustomed to.’ and indeed you did, making him feel surprisingly unsettled- another one of the tethering anchor points he relies on snapping and flying away within seconds, regardless of how inconsequential a gesture it had seemed to you. 

“You forgetting something?” he grumbled in a tone that would surely leave someone else wondering if you owe the dubious-looking man with a balaclava hitched up over his nose an unresolved debt.

you don't skip the greeting next time.

[zephyrchama]

There was a twinge of worry in Beelzebub's voice when you picked up his phone call. There was hardly any delay between the time you accepted the call and him going, "hey. Is Belphie with you? I can't find him. He's not in the attic, or our room, or the kitchen."

"Yeah, he's with me," you replied. Beelzebub exhaled a sigh of relief. You didn't have to look far to confirm the Avatar of Sloth was slouched against your shoulder. "He's taking a na-"

"I'm protecting you." Belphegor slurred his words as he stirred back to consciousness. His arm coiled around your lower back. Maybe he was still in dreamland.

You held the phone away from your mouth to explain, "Beel's on the phone. Do you want to talk to him?"

Belphegor huffed and dug his forehead into your shoulder with closed eyes. "Just tell him I'm protecting you."

"Um. Okay." You turned your attention back to the phone. "Belphie wants you to know that he's protecting me."

"That's great," his twin responded. "From what?"

"I... don't know."

You pressed your cheek against Belphegor's head to ask, "hey, Belphie? Whatcha protecting me from?"

He grumbled several sleepy little groans before insisting, once again, "I'm protecting you." There was no further elaboration.

"Cool, thanks."

Back into the receiver, you explained, "I have no idea, but he's protecting me."

"That's great," Beelzebub repeated.

[arminsumi]

cws; smut, rough s*x, mentions sq**rting, milkman cliché, namecalling, sum back scratching, this is goofy asf LOL 🐥

Milkman!Gojo who doesn't just 'dick you down'; he fucks you into the 4th dimension. His strokes are actually insane. You can't keep up with him and he's laughing about it because up until now it's been you who's the horniest — the lonely single hottie flirting obnoxiously with the way too fuckable milkman. Shit, it was you who begged him to fuck you dumb in the first place. He's jus' delivering! One second he's giving you milk and the next he's stripping his uniform off and letting his cock spring out to give you... well, more milk?!

Locking you into the nastiest mating press you've ever endured, milkman!Gojo's slamming into your sensitive pussy so hard and fast at the perfect angle that you're actually scared of your orgasm — how he works it out of you with such violent thrusts that you hiccough and feel like you're about to cry. He just gives it to you without mercy, no breaks no bullshit he is dicking you the fuck downnn

"Holy shit! Nng! Fuck! Don't you fucking stop!" you squeal, clawing desperately at his back and leaving raw red lines, "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! Ahhh ummm I'm gonna c-cum?! Nnn!! I'm gonna cum... I'm cumming on your cock... I... um... shit, I-I'm ahh cumming...!"

His dick has you stressing out — like actually. Your pussy's under pressure like she's taking a big dick exam. Each inch he packs into your spasming cunt is changing your world perspective. Did you squirt? You can't tell. But you came without touching your clit for like, the first time, which is insane to you. His cum is pumping into you and he's shuddering, calling you a slutty bitch or whatever other foul names — with affection, you know, he's a charming guy. And he's left you with a charming creampie to ooze out your abused cunt.

He's stifling laughter once he's done filling you up with his milk, sliding his cock out with a nasty squelchy pop! and he's asking if you're okay after literally ruining you; you can't move a single muscle, you can only "bask" in the afterglow which feels more like an aftershock because that orgasm was some high-level earthquake shit.

"What the fuck... I need t-t-to lay here and think about life for a bit..."

He's howling with laughter, "Damn, did I fuck your brains out or what?"

"Nah, shut up with ya bullshit — your dick is insane, no wonder you can't keep a girlfriend. Like, there's dicking down and then there's whatever that was — plowing me into the fourth fucking dimension... don't laugh!"

So now after that, you call your milkman up whenever you need "insane 4th dimension dicking down" and he snickers, ready to deliver — knocking at your door and waiting to cum inside.

[amid-fandoms]

dan howell acting like he's experiencing brain damage at the thought of saying anything nice about phil when his dramatic ass tweeted this a month after meeting him cause he couldn't cope with not living in his bedside drawer 🙄

[tediousmalcontentt]

my favorite scene in all of literature is when Neil Josten wakes up in Columbia after being drugged, hurls an alarm clock at Aaron, dumps his water on the floor and throws the cup at Aaron, stuff his clothes down the toilet and squeezes out through the window, has the foresight to call Matt from a pay phone to protect his shit, hitch hikes back to campus, eyes back to brown?? shows up on Wymack’s door like 😜 and reveals he could speak German the whole time?? CHARACTER OF ALL TIME, that is a protagonist who knows how MOVE THE MFING PLOT ALONG

[parkjammys]

nothing but the truth

[lilacxquartz]

love you, love you, love you;

mr. crawling x reader

plot: some things are best expressed without the need of words — themes: spooning/cuddling, smut, maybe yan vibes — w.c: 1.1k

a/n: my first homicipher related fic. i want to try one for mr. silvair & mr. gap next, bc they were also my favs. this game has been taking over my life so much lately. like it’s been in my dreams, haaah.

masterlist • ao3

Mr. Crawling was always loud when he was excited within your company; his laughter filled out the vast empty spaces that were otherwise unadorned with familiarity. Whatever you once sought from those winding corridors was ever-fleeting, temporary, leaving you stuck within the confines of his company.

Yet, when he felt what you could only interpret as affection—that’s when Mr. Crawling then became different—quiet, soothing, kind but also… curious.

And when you would usually sleep, he would stand watch, knelt over the floor as per his usual stance but sometimes crouched near you, sometimes leaning back against the wall with his legs pressed up against his chest. He would watch you as his life depended on it, unwavering in focus and with eerie intensity. He would watch as your chest rose and fell, leaning close on occasion to catch the sweep of your breath and sometimes, he would trace the pad of his milky fingertips in long, languid strokes against your face. Always so delicate, so tender, but for the most part, quiet and even shy.

Having once caught a glimpse of Mr. Gap in your blanket space, however, set something territorial off for Mr. Crawling and he was never able to recover from such an invasion. The very idea that someone else was able to infiltrate what he deemed to be your space—especially someone who he disapproved of—wasn’t something he could stand for. Especially with the sort of trickster Mr. Gap was, he couldn’t bear to see you get hurt. It would kill him on the inside (and on the outside, too).

So, just as you were getting into bed to rest up once more, he too, slipped in under the covers with you. At first, you were startled as usual, turning to face him with confusion evident in your eyes, murmuring out some words in a language that he still could not understand. He repeated something back, the meaning lost and indecipherable upon your ears, though soon surrendering to emphasis using gestures instead. A hug to bring you closer, a reassuring pat on your head and a small, longing kiss over your nose.

You listened to his words again, repeating over and over like a broken record.

Perhaps he meant no harm, after all.

You turned your back to him and settled into his chest, finding that he was surprisingly warm for what he was. His taller frame encased your body, wrapping his ashen arms around your waist—accidentally brushing the fabric that sat over your breast—nicking the cloth ever so slightly. Your breath hitched in surprise and as though in sheepish realisation, he withdrew right away, terrified that you were upset with him.

You drew out a long breath, reminding yourself again, that after everything that has happened thus far…

That, Mr. Crawling does not want to hurt you.

That Mr. Crawling has only ever helped you.

So perhaps, right now, Mr. Crawling only wanted to be closer to you.

You relaxed your breathing, settling into his comforting shadow once more and allowed for his presence to envelop you. He repeated the soothing motions of his grappling arm, although he held onto you softer that time. His hands explored your body with a delicate touch, as though afraid of breaking you—of upsetting you again—his motions growing confident the longer that you didn’t protest. It wasn’t long before he, otherwise not disturbed by your lacking, conscious awareness, decided to explore further with you. Mr. Crawling’s fingers didn’t ask for permission that time, creeping beneath the clinging fabric, feeling your skin against his palms, inviting a pleased, almost delighted smile to curl on his lips.

The silence remained unbroken as Mr. Crawling continued his explorative focus on you; the quickly-building evidence of his need growing harder the longer he pushed himself behind your body, the repeated touches arousing something warmer within him. To both his surprise as well as your own—you were not repulsed, allowing him to creep even lower, below the skirt of the dress and up, brushing his hand up to your exposed skin and, reading into it—you communicated your consent from the moment you parted your legs, allowing him to get even closer.

Confidence surged in Mr. Crawling as he pushed himself into your hilt, allowing his hardened length to slip inside. Betraying the stagnant silence, he shuddered out a ragged gasp before giving into his own rising need; grinding himself into your sopping sex with steadily increasing fervour. His fingers clamped around the curve of your hips as he held you in place, slamming every last inch of himself deep into your core.

Ever touch-starved yet wanting nothing more than to surrender to the sensation of you, Mr. Crawling continued to drive his cock into your needy cunt, soon wrapping his winding arms around your body and holding on tight. He bucked intensely as you soon succumbed to breathless whimpers, incoherently begging for his name. Equally desperate whines rolled off the slip of his tongue as he found his lips pressed into the crook of your neck, dampening your skin with sloppy wet kisses—as many as he could give.

It felt overwhelming for you in a way to be worshipped like this but you did your best to keep up with such intensity, especially as the warm, tingling pleasure built up inside of you, too. You held on just as tight as he did, your hand seeking out his own—fingers weaving into his bony digits—interlocking and squeezing tight the closer you got, your grip and otherwise clenching need tightening simultaneously. To feel him losing himself inside of you was dare you admit, addicting, feeling him completely fill and stretch you out leaving you almost dizzied from the impaling force.

Mr. Crawling, like you, soon surrendered to the rolling bliss from the flick of his hips, feeling a surging warmth mount and rise, encouraging him to lose himself to the searing heat of the moment and you. Encircling your body in a possessive hug, he suddenly began to mutter out a new word in a strained mantra, again and again.

Given how desperate he seemed to be, you understood the meaning as ‘close’, especially as his actions grew more strained and less controlled.

“Close, close, close,” he repeated.

It didn’t take his chased release to catch up as his hips grew to a stutter, rutting out one final pump before melting into you. Mr. Crawling cried into your neck, spilling out the entirety of his overflowing love, feeling the pent-up devotion trickle down your thighs—yet not letting you move away—still retaining his claim on you.

Instead, he kept you even closer than before, not allowing you to part from him ever again (despite understanding your yearning for rest).

Words were never the problem, it seemed.

Mr. Crawling would have always found a way to… connect with you.

[poltoreveur]

“He’s a villain! You only like him because he’s hot.”

Okay and?

[confusedblakex]

I just want a date (Pt 1)

Pairing: Shota Aizawa X Reader (Gender Neutral)

Summary: A not-so-sane reader just wants to take Eraserhead out on a date

Wordcount: 1396

Warnings: Breaking of bones, asphyxiation and a few yandere thoughts

Requested by: @asilentcruellullaby​

Notes: I wrote this with a male reader in mind but it turned out gender neutral; The reader’s quirk is telekinesis or some form of it

Last edited: 15th November 2024 (final edit date)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

The hero ran into an alleyway as fast as her feet could carry her, she was running on pure adrenaline and fear to get away from you.

She slowed and slid down a wall, collapsing against the support behind her as her hand reached down to her hip-clipped communicator to call for backup. She thought she’d outrun you, and it made you smile at the fact she was so naive. Her fingers were only a hair’s breadth away from the button when her entire arm seized up entirely out of her control.

Silent tears fell down her face as you used your quirk and lifted her arm horizontally. A scream ripped from her throat as you twisted it back, snapped it, and let it drop to an unnatural position. Tears filled her eyes, and her vision became blurry as she sobbed from the pain. She heard your footsteps, but when she looked up to face you, she only saw a big blur of black and white.

“You don’t have to do this,” she whimpered in a pathetic attempt at not getting killed. This made you laugh, and you didn’t even try to suppress it.

“That’s so cliché, you know,” you mocked as you walked closer to the hero, stopping when you were just in front of her slumped over form, feeling so powerful as you looked down at her.

Though the entire scenario felt very cliché, and it made you want to roll around the floor in laughter.

“Besides,” you continued, doing a childish pout, “I’m only doing it to get someone’s attention…”

You let your eyes trail up to her neck and, with your mind, commanded the air to constrict around her throat. The hero began gasping for air as she suddenly felt the pressure around her neck, her ‘good’ not-broken arm rising to pry off whatever was around her throat, only to find nothing. It was certainly an amusing sight, seeing the panic in her eyes as she squirmed in her place for a bit, making gasping and gurgling noises until she could no longer fight off the closing of her eyelids.

“Nighty-night,” you whispered to her as you let go of your invisible strangle grip and crouched down to pull the communicator off her hero costume. The little dots on the screen that showed the locations of other heroes were all far away, around the distraction you had made earlier – all except one.

The one that was moving quickly towards the alleyway in which you were standing (or, more specifically, crouching). You nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard a voice behind you.

“I know you’re powerful, but you didn’t have to knock down an entire building to get my attention,” Aizawa said, as you stood up and turned around. He was wearing his Eraserhead outfit, but he had lifted the goggles so you could see his eyes.

“Shota!” you practically squealed with excitement, “I was starting to think you wouldn’t show up.” You faked a pout again and gazed at him with an adoring stare. Oh, how much you wanted to run your hand through his hair and hold him and kiss him and-

“She’s not dead, is she?” he asked, looking to the unconscious hero who was slumped over against the wall behind you.

You blinked and looked at him with feigned innocence, resisting the urge to smile to yourself about how easily he distracts you.

“Nah, just unconscious and a broken arm, nothing too bad-”

“You knocked down a building.”

You froze for a moment after he said that. Is that a bad thing? A good thing? Was he just stating a fact?

“You didn’t respond to my code!” you retorted with a playful smile the moment it popped into your mind-brain. If he was stating facts, then so would you.

He looked at you like you had just missed something obvious.

“(y/n), spelling out the coordinates of a date location using the ages of the people you’ve kidnapped really isn’t the easiest thing to figure out.” He said in the most monotone voice you’d ever heard him muster.

You frowned at this. You’d thought it’d be fun and relatively easy to figure out, a little game for the two of you to play to make his ‘boring hero work’ a bit more fun.

“Yeah, well… It’s not exactly like I can just ‘call you up’” You said, throwing your arms up in sarcastic joy.

1- You didn’t have a phone.

2- If you did have a phone, you didn’t have his number.

3- Even if you had a phone and knew his number, you were still a wanted criminal.

Aizawa just sighed, and asked again.

“So, you knock down a building to get my attention?”

Okay, so, from the way he said it, it sounded like it was a ‘bad’ thing and not something a ‘normal’ person would do, so you mentally filed ‘knocking down buildings’ under ‘don’t do’ only so you could forget it all in an hour or so.

“Yes,” you confirmed. You just didn’t understand exactly what he didn’t understand.

“Why?”

Oh! This was the perfect moment! You grabbed him with your quirk and pulled him, so he was in front of you.

“Will you be my partner?” you asked in a daydreamy voice as you cupped his cheek with one hand and held his waist with the other, holding him close.

“No” he responded plainly, swatting your hand away from his face as he took a step away from you.

“Shota!” you whined like a child as he crouched down and busied himself with the still unconscious pro hero.

“Why not?!” you asked, crouching down behind him and placing your head on top of his. You were lowkey jealous that an unconscious woman was getting more attention than you.

“You make me work overtime.” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

This made you smile. A genuine happy smile. The reason he didn’t want to date you wasn’t because you were a villain or because you were diagnosed with a mental disorder (that you greatly disagreed with), Aizawa just didn’t care for labels. In his mind, it didn’t matter their gender or their job or their reputation – if he loved them, he loved them, and nothing else mattered. All of this just added to the endless list of reasons why he was perfect.

“Aww I’m sorry, my love, please forgive me.” you said softly, standing up and pulling him up with you before you turned him around and snaked your arms around his waist.

“Let me take you out as an apology? A nice restaurant and maybe a little stroll after? Hmm?” you asked, rocking the two of you from side to side in a gentle dance. He sighed and shook his head in a ‘no’ before resting his forehead on your shoulder.

“Please…” you whispered, pulling out the pleading card. God, you would do anything for this man.

“One date, that’s all I ask of you.”

You buried your nose in his hair, closing your eyes and inhaling his scent. You wondered how much closer to him you would feel if you cut him open and crawled inside him?

“One date and I promise I’ll stop bugging you.” you whispered, hoping he’d take the bait. (No, you were never going to leave him alone, so it simply wasn’t realistic to say that you would.)

“No more overtime?” he asked as he looked up at you, sounding the cutest you’d ever heard him.

“No more overtime.” you confirmed with a loving smile.

“Fine,” he said, finally giving in, “one date-”

You suddenly picked him up and spun him around out of pure joy, squealing like a 5-year-old girl.

“Okay, okay.” he said as he pried your arms off him and dropped to the floor. “Don’t make me regret this…” Your smile grew uncontrollably wider. You had a date!

“You won’t, don’t worry.” you assured him, placing a kiss on his nose before you walked backwards and used your quirk on the wall behind you. The wall warped and reshaped so that you could walk through it, and you sent Aizawa a wink as you went.

The wall returned to its original shape behind you and Aizawa just shook his head, a small smile gracing his lips.

[valerieofavonlea]

"Haymitch raises geese" OH YOU MEAN THE GEESE YOU GOT HIM AFTER HE TOLD YOU ALL HIS LONG LOST LOVE. THE GEESE YOU PROBABLY COULDN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT FOR DAYS SO YOU HAD TO GO GET SOME FOR HIM AND HAVE PEETA MAKE AN INCUBATOR? THOSE GEESE???

[tojifiles]

༯ warnings. mature content, fem!reader + toji fushiguro, unprotected sēx, piv, pwp. minors do not interact, please and thank u.

wc. 1.7k (not proofread 🥸)

toji fushiguro is a nice guy.

not in the annoying “i’m a nice guy why won’t women date me” way, but in the “i’ll fix your sink, walk your dog, and probably kill a man for you if you say please” kinda way.

the ex-assassin (and your next door neighbor) is always doing something for someone— mowing the lawn for mrs. takada across the street, teaching the neighborhood kids how to patch a flat tire like he’s not patched gunshot wounds with duct tape before. probably hand-knits blankets for stray cats behind closed doors too.

so when he sees you wrestling with a massive ikea box on your porch that you honestly never stood a chance against in the first place, he doesn’t even hesitate.

“fuck is in here, a whole corpse or somethin’?” he jokes, like he didn’t just pluck the box from your arms, like it was filled with feathers and not the broken promises of swedish furniture.

you give him an airy laugh, wiping sweat from your brow as you tell him it’s your new bed from ikea.

“ikea?” he repeats, like you just told him it really was a corpse in that god forsaken box. “yeah, nah. you’re not building that.”

you blink. “i’m not?”

“uh, did i not just say no? i’ll handle it. don’t want a pretty lil’ thing like you losing a finger over some overpriced planks and an allen wrench.”

and listen. you could’ve argued. you could’ve said you’re an independent woman, with your crappy youtube tutorials and a rusty ol’ hammer.

but instead you just say,

“. . .do you want water or beer?”

god, you swear your bedroom has never felt this small.

toji’s presence takes up space like he was built for it—one knee down, the other bent, thighs straining against those well-worn jeans like they’re one bad movement from tearing right at the seams. his tank is drenched, clinging like it’s got a personal vendetta, outlining every broad inch of him like a glove.

he’s hunched over the partially assembled bed, brows furrowed, scarred lips parted in quiet concentration like he’s studying scripture, not step six of some swedish-coded nightmare.

and it’s filthy, the way your brain strayed, drinking in the way he moved—tight, efficient, obscene without even trying.

every low grunt, every flex of his arms, every time he shifts and that heavy chain around his neck clinks against sweat-slick skin—it’s like you're watching the start of a bad porno.

your gaze drops, uninvited, right to the swell of his chest—broad and heaving—and lower, past the way his shirt clings to his dreadfully slutty waist, all the way to the waistband of his jeans.

the way they sit, low and loose, slung across those hips like temptation incarnate—

“you good over there, sweetheart?” his voice breaks through the haze, all casual and smug. “been eyein’ me reeaall hard over there.”

you choke.

“oh, uh—i was…” you mutter, blinking like an idiot, “just… making sure you’re not screwing m- it up.”

he hums, not even looking at you, allenkey twisting slow in his grip.

“mm. real thorough inspection you’re doing.”

your a/c is blasting, full arctic tundra, and yet here you are—skin flushed, thighs clenched, your mind absolutely nosediving into the filthiest trenches imaginable.

you open your mouth about to retort back, but he cuts you off with a simple, expectant:

“wrench.”

just that. hand out. palm grasping. not even looking at you.

you pass him the tool, and your fingers brush his. his hand is warm, rough - those thick, ragged fingers that have probably shot bullets into yakuza leaders skulls, probably broken bones, lingering just a beat too long.

and suddenly you’re not thinking about this stupid swedish furniture anymore.

you’re thinking about those same fingers digging into your hips.

gripping the back of your neck.

pressing into your thigh as he—

“you gonna let go, or you just like holdin’ my hand?”

you snap out of your. . trance, retracting your hand like the wrench had transformed into molten lava and burned it. “just um, didn’t wanna drop it. s-safety first, right?”

“riight, whatever helps you sleep at night.”

even though it’s your bed, he hasn’t let you touch a single piece of it. 

not one panel. not one sad screw.

and it’s not like you didn’t offer to help—you did, multiple times!

yet every single time, he just waved you off like you were a gnat.

“jus’ sit n’ look pretty. this ain’t a group project,” he utters, dead serious. you open your mouth once more to argue, and all he sends you is a glare— playful, yet still warning.

and after three long, sweaty hours,

you—

no.

he is finally done.

toji leans back on his heels, wiping beads of sweat from his brow with the back of his hand “there,” he grunts, satisfied. “all done miss.”

you glance at the bed. it does look good. solid. intimidatingly so. 

“looks sturdy,” you murmur, and toji hums in agreement. thick fingers drag slow over his stubbled chin as he leans back, marveling at his piece of work.“mm. might wanna test it out first, though.”

you blink. “…test it?”

he nods, rolling his shoulders, towering and terrible, that glint in his eye nothing short of criminal.

“how ‘bout i help ya out, yeah? call it uhh, ‘mandatory safety inspection’ .”

ᥫ᭡.

“ngh, to-tojiii,” you mewl, nails grasping helplessly at the cushioned mattress beneath you, your glossed dolly eyes fluttering back with each filthy fuckin’ thrust. his strokes are relentless, sharp, each one leaving a raucous snap from his toned v-line on your poor sore thighs.

for such a ‘sweet’ and ‘beloved’ guy, his dick game sure was mean as hell.

“atta girl, look at that,” he grunts, “takin’ me so fuckin’ well.”

your swollen bottom lip is caught between your teeth, an embarrassingly desperate attempt at concealing these lewd noises toji is managing to string out of your chest.

but with the way he’s fucking into you like this, those calloused, worn palms spreading the fat of your ass to give him a front-row view of how his cock is sinking in and out of you, before raising his hand to give it a nice hefty spank—

it’d be damn near impossible to not stay quiet.

your body feels so hot, practically melting as your spine arches further with each roll of his firm hips. the pads of his fingers are digging into the plush of your waist, burning against your skin like he’s trying to brand you with his hands alone.

toji sloows his pace, not enough to give you a break, but enough to make sure you feel all ten inches of him, that evilly thick stretch making your walls stutter. his chest dips down your spine, peppered stubble scratching at the nape of your neck as his full weight sinks over you.

“uh uh, shhh,” toji croons hotly, his breath warm as he leaves a wet kiss along the shell of your ear, “you hear that?”

“h-huh?” you hiccup, and he’s got you soo dumb off his dick that your surprised your still coherent.

“girl. listen.”

and you do. or try to, atleast.

your breathing slows just enough to catch it, between the wet slaps of skin and your pulse bursting in your ears—

creak… creak… creak….

“looks like she’s startin’ to talk,” he murmurs. “guess i forgot to tighten all the screws. oops.”

haha. you'd roll your eyes if they weren’t already damn near in your skull.

toji’s body shifts, swole chest hefted on your back as his beefy arms cage you in. he’s got one hand curled around your wrist, pinning it to the matress, while the other bruisingly grips your waist.

your plushed thighs quiver, ass rippling back with each fluid snap of his hips. he’s so deep, his entire length bottoming out in your sobbing cunt. landing countless blow after blow on that poor spongy spot of yours.

“f-fuuck,” it slips out breathy, caught between a gasp and a whine, your voice cracking with each draaag of his cock. “s’too much— i can’t—”

“yea you can,” toji huffs. “already are.”

creaking turns into clattering, death rattles now, and he’s still not stopping nor slowing. every hit leaves the mattress screaming, legs of the frame wobbling as it lurches underneath the weight of you both.

and your bed isn’t the only thing ready to give out eithet.

“ ‘m gonna, hnnghh— m’ gonna cumm, toj’ ” you sob, shuddering as your core tightens.

“shiit, thaaat’s it,” he pants as your pussy swallows him oh so snugly, and you can feel him start to throb inside of you. “ let ‘toj’ feel you cum ‘round his cock, baby.”

toji’s strokes sloppen, grinding now, likes he’s trying to engrave each and every inch of his cock into your unforgivingly tight cunt. your hips begin to spasm as your pretty glossed lips sputter out mindless, repetitive catches of his name.

he sends one more thrust, mean and s—

crack!

that poor lil’ ikea bed of yours sinks beneath you with a jarring snap, the headboard dipping rudely as one stubby leg snaps completely off— making you and toji slip forward with it.

you yelp, yet it slips into a broken moan as splotches of white fill your blurred vision, body jerking as your saccharine juices spill out onto him.

you let out a pouty whine, lashes fluttering as toji groans, gutturally, his posture stiffening, jaw hanging slack before you feel him begin to spill into you—sticky hazed shades of white rudely painting your insides like his own personal canvas.

the scent of sweat and sex hangs heavily in the air, the only sounds being you and toji left panting. he stills momentarily, assuring his sticky load is plunged deep enough inside of you before easing out with a sharp hiss.

“guess she, uh, failed the inspection,” clicking his tongue as he breaks the silence, acting all disappointed despite the way he’s grinning like a fucking fool— as if he didn’t just knock all you and your beds screws loose.

“you’re buying me a new bed.” you mutter, voice hoarse as your shooting him a mascara stained glare over your shoulder.

“ ya’ gonna let me break her in too?”

and it’s not like you decline— it’d be rude if you did. .

because toji fushiguro is a nice guy, after all.

@ssorenz™ do not, copy, repost or translate anywhere without my knowledge.