#and he never takes that mask off even if it kills him

[debilsposts]

Dumb long-ass hc time because my writer's block blocks me from writing

Jaytim, but no one really knows what their relationship status is anymore BECAUSE they act differently around each other every time depending on whether they’re wearing masks or not. 

1. Red Robin & Red Hood: Professional Rivals (and a disaster duo)

When RR and RH are together, the volume automatically goes up. They argue in briefings, in the middle of fights, over comms. Those two show up all suited up and everyone knows that it will take one tiny shove from RH or a comment from RR to start it. Or none of that – when someone is dumb enough to ask if they can act civil around each other. 

RH calls RR a “detective” in the most mocking tone ever. RR says that RH is clearly better fed than taught. 

When they’re on a mission together, it’s a competition –  Who takes down more guys? Who gets the last word? Who can piss off Batman faster?

RH threatens to kill RR at least once a week. RR dares him to try. 

2. Tim Drake & Jason Todd in Public: Pretending to be Normal (they are not normal, in fact!)

In public, Jason will hold the door open for Tim, but close it right in his face, too. Tim will bring Jason tea exactly how he likes it but take a sip first and dramatically gag. They insult each other constantly, but sometimes something too genuine slips out, and they both pretend not to notice.

Tim complains that Jason never comes to see him when he works, so Jason starts dropping by WE unannounced and sitting silently in Tim’s office, making eye contact but refusing to speak. Tim hates it. Jason loves it.

Bruce’s galas are a nightmare, even Dick’s acrobatics can’t make it more embarrassing for the big Bat. They are too flirty and no one knows what it means.

At some point, a clueless socialite always asks Tim, “Do you know that Jason Todd man?”

Tim: “Oh, we’ve met.”

Jason, walking by: “Barely. But yeah, we know each other.”

Tim: “Intimately.”

Jason chokes on his drink.

Jason waits until Tim has his own drink in hand, then deliberately bumps his elbow, making Tim spill it.

Tim subtly badmouths Jason to the rich snobs, saying things like, “He doesn’t even own a yacht. Can you believe that? I plan to give him one for his birthday, poor thing.”

SugarDaddyTim vibes

They kick each other on the shins under the table, but at the same time, they grin and tell stupid jokes. Bruce invites them less and less. 

3. Red Robin & Jason Todd (Civilian): Red Robin has a Jason problem

Tim is a little feral about Jason when he’s in costume. It’s not professionalism. It’s personal. 

Jason will take one step in Crime Alley, and Red Robin will be there like a demon summoned by bad life choices. AT THE SAME TIME Red Robin refuses to acknowledge Jason Todd as a vigilante. He acts like Jason is just a guy off the street who keeps showing up in his crime scenes. Oftentimes Jason is his primary suspect, and even Bruce is tired of it. 

Jason will be walking home with groceries when Red Robin lands dramatically in front of him.

Jason: “Unless you’re offering to carry my bags, move.”

RR: “Where were you an hour ago?”

Jason: “Buying milk???”

RR: “That’s what they all say.”

Jason: “I literally have the receipt???”

RR: “That proves nothing.”

Jason tweets that Red Robin fights like a girl. Next day, Spoiler, Oracle, Black Bat and Batwoman are waiting for him to have a little talk. 

4. Red Hood & Tim Drake (Civilian): The World’s Most Deranged Thirst Posting (Tim is also the most frequently kidnapped man alive)

Tim has made it his life’s mission to objectify Red Hood online

“Red Hood could snap me in half like a glowstick, and I’d say thank you.”

“I would let Red Hood throw me off a building. No hesitation.”

“You guys don’t understand. He’s so big. His thighs are so thick I want them to crush me. He’s so–”

Tim will also randomly start talking shit on Red Hood from his burner account. He’d post something like “Red Hood’s helmet is actually pink, I tried it on his photos. If you take an eyedropper and read the colors, it’s actually closer to pinky-orange than it is to red.” RH naturally answers him by telling to stfu because he’s being picky, and Tim writes back that this is how eyedropper actually works.

Tim posts blurry, unflattering photos of Red Hood mid-fight.

“Caught in 4K looking stupid.”

Jason hates it. He keeps trying to smash Tim’s phone.

Tim also loves spreading misinformation on purpose.

“Red Hood listens to MCR. I have no proof, but I have no doubts.”

Red Hood will kidnap Tim in the middle of any event chosen by Tim. He just has to text Hood in advance. RH will keep him for a few hours and return him slightly bruised, hair messy, clothes disheveled. Poor Tim must have been tortured, since his eyes are glossy as if he was crying, his neck and shoulders are covered in bruises, and his face is awfully red. 

When someone asks, he says that Red Hood is lame, and he could take him anytime (in a fight, right???)

EXTRA:

5. Tim Drake & Jason Todd when they’re alone: The Part That Matters

In private, Jason clings to Tim like a drowning man holding onto something solid. He buries his face in Tim’s throat, breathing in like he’s afraid of forgetting what he smells like. Tim doesn’t say anything, just cards his fingers through Jason’s hair, steady and slow, letting Jason take what he needs. He reads him a Jason’s books of choice sometimes. 

Jason puts his head on Tim’s chest when they cuddle, sometimes even holds his wrist – fingers pressing against his pulse, reassuring himself: Here. Alive. Breathing.

There’s no bark. No fighting. No masks, no Red Hood, no Red Robin.

Just Jason and Tim. Just the things they don’t have to show to the world.

[the-froschamethyst4]

Just found your account I love Guns and Dahlias it’s fantastic will you be doing a part 2 🥰

Guns and Dahlias Pt: 2

𖤐Pairing: Crime Lord! Ghost x Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: Angst, smut, harsh language, kissing/making out, mention of guns, violence, blood, and gore, no codenames,

𖤐Summary: Picking up where we left off. Ghost is now on a rampage trying to find the person he cares more about then anything in the world his wife

𖤐Yes, of course! I will never you guys on a cliff hanger for any reason

————

————

March (12:00PM)

It's been close to a month now, Simon was led to dead ends about the whereabouts of his wife.

Harry was no help, even though Simon was using him as leverage thinking maybe the asshole would come forward on who might have taken Y/n.

Simon paces in the meeting room, Johnny was going over the last compound thinking Y/n was there and wasn't, Simon blood was just boiling when he felt like they're not even close to finding her.

"I just want my fucking wife, that's all I fucking ask for," he grabs Harry by his shirt. "GIVE ME ONE GOOD REASON WHY I WOULDN'T BLOW YOUR BRAINS OUT?! You said you'd help us, and you keep dragging us to dead fucking ends."

"If you want to know so bad, then kill me," Simon takes a gun from John holster and with no regret or hesitation finally put this asshole out of his misery.

"SIMON!" Simon then started to go through Harry's pockets, grabbing a dagger and then reaching for a his jacket pocket and pulled out a photo.

"What is it?"

He flips the photo between his fingers and showed the guys. "The Alpes," he says. "The bastard knew the whole time." Simon moved his foot and kicked Harry's bloody face away.

"There's a compound in the Alpes?"

"Wait, can we be for sure."

"Find me those security cameras to every fucking airport!" Simon demands.

------------------

The Compound

Y/n's fingers were cold, blistered, she just wants to know if Simon is coming? If he was close to finding her? She looks down at her fingers and saw them slightly yellowed.

"Fuck," she whispers while her teeth chattered. "S-Simon...please," she begs.

"Get up," someone stood at her cell door, she did what she was told, the guard walks in and she was yanked up off the floor, she was pushed to the wall as they searched her room like she was some sort of criminal.

"I-I'm cold."

"We all are," the guard says.

"You g-guys are in warm furs...I-I'm in a t-shirt and shorts..."

"Give her these," a man comes in, a scar over his left eye and one on the corner of his mouth. He tossed in some furs and pants that she knew wouldn't fit her.

"Boss, she's clear-"

"O-Of course I'm clear, you s-snatched me from my house with n-nothing on me, you f-fucking psychos," she curses.

"Oh she's got a fucking mouth on her, Boss," the guard spits as he walks passed Y/n. Y/n looked at the guard then at the man who gave her the warm clothes.

"Just t-take me back home, I-I'm not apart o-of whatever my husband d-does."

"Why would I do that? You're the one thing he cares about the most, if anything you're leverage till I get to see that bastard, again."

"Again?"

"Guess you don't know your husband at all...he use to work under me! He was a nobody before he met me." He just chuckles, he walks away from Y/n and they closed her cell door.

-----------------

12:50PM

"There." Simon pauses the video and zooms in, a guy in a mask carrying Y/n-well more like dragging her, her face was covered with a sack and her hand tied behind her back.

"That jet, track that jets data."

"Left at...5pm, landed in XYZ Airport just outside the Alpes."

"More information they had struggled to get into the air because a fight broke out."

"A fight? Are there cameras in there?"

"No, but...audio..." Johnny was hesitant to play the audio but Simon nods signaling to play it.

"This is Captain Jack Orsen, we're having a problem on the flight-"

"GET OFF OF ME! DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!"

"SHE BROKE MY NOSE!"

"YOU BITCH!" There was a struggle but they heard a smack and Simon clench his fists.

"THE BITCH SLAPPED ME!?"

"How did her hands get loose!?"

"Tie her back down."

"For a lady getting kidnapped, she does know how to fight," John says.

"She is a fighter-get me a flight to the Alpes, asap."

"Yes, sir-"

"You'll need back up."

"Tackle up," Simon says as they break.

------------------

Now The Alpes 15 Minutes outside Potential Compound

"Insights say that it could be the compound."

"Alejandro managed to get in with no problem, undetected."

Speaking of Alejandro, he walked through the compound like everyone else, undetected. He carries a gun and walked with a mask covering his face like all the other guards. He stood just outside of a cell, he sees her curled up on the floor.

"Get up." She sits up and once Alejandro opened the cell door, he pushes Y/n to the wall, spreading her feet like it was protocol, he leans forward close to her ear. "Simon is coming." He says.

"Alejandro?" She whispers.

"Shh, don't blow my cover." Soon the head honcho stepped behind Alejandro. "She's clear."

"O-Of course I'm clear, you s-snatched me from my house with n-nothing on me, you f-fucking psychos," Y/n curses at the two men playing along with Alejandro.

"She's got a fucking mouth on her." He says, stepping out of the cell.

He walks down the hall, putting an ear piece in as he was away from the other guards and the head honcho.

"Simon? Do you copy?"

"Yes, where are you Alejandro?"

"In the dungeon where she is...she's here."

"Is she safe?"

"Couple of bruises," he looks up. "I have to go," he pulls his earpiece out and continues walking.

---------------

Red lights flashed across the hallways. Shouts erupted in the distance. Alejandro instinctively reached for his pistol, pressing himself against the wall as chaos unfolded around him. The guards scrambled, some rushing toward the commotion outside while others barked orders into radios.

Then the first explosion hit.

The force rocked the foundation, dust raining from the ceiling. The blast sent a guard stumbling into Alejandro’s path. Without hesitation, Alejandro grabbed the man by the collar and drove his knee into his gut. The guard wheezed, doubling over, but Alejandro was already spinning him around and using his own rifle to snap his neck with a sickening crack.

Gunfire erupted in the distance, closer this time. Simon was here.

Alejandro sprinted back toward Y/n’s cell, neutralizing another guard with a swift blade across the throat. He retrieved the dead man’s keycard, swiping it against the panel. The lock clicked open.

"Move!" he barked.

Y/n didn’t hesitate. She stumbled forward, but Alejandro caught her arm, steadying her. "Can you run?"

"I can fight," she shot back, grabbing a fallen guard’s knife.

He smirked. "Then let’s get the hell out of here."

The hallway ahead exploded in a shower of sparks as gunfire ricocheted off the walls. Alejandro shoved Y/n behind cover, returning fire. Three guards fell before the rest scrambled for cover.

"We have to move now!" Alejandro shouted over the gunfire.

A familiar voice crackled over the radio. "Alejandro, where the fuck are you?"

He quickly tries to put his earpiece in. "North wing, second floor! Need extraction!"

"Hold tight. On my way."

Another explosion rocked the compound. Alejandro turned to Y/n. "You trust me?"

"Not really," she admitted, gripping her knife tighter.

He smirked. "Good. Stay close."

They sprinted down the corridor, dodging bullets and bodies as the compound erupted into full-blown war. And somewhere in the smoke and fire, Ghost was coming.

"Get down," Alejandro says, covering Y/n as they heard gun firing and then...it stopped. Alejandro released Y/n and they looked to see if it was clear.

Y/n sees her husband, blood covering his front as he was pulling his knife from the back of one of the guard that was firing at them.

"Simon!" Y/n calls out, Simon looks up and sees her.

No others words were exchanged, Simon put his knife back into his holster and running up to Y/n picking her up and hugging her so tight she could barely breath.

"Si," she coos, while holding his face.

"Oh, thank fuck, you're safe." He says. He looks at Alejandro and motions for him to get in front so they can all leave here unharmed and safe.

"Leaving so soon, Simon?" A voice calls from the end of the hallway. They stopped and turned. "The fun has just begun," he smirks.

"Viktor Mikhailov," Simon growled.

"It's been awhile...I'm not surprised you came in guns up and firing, and you setting off my alarms..."

"Take her out of here."

"Simon-"

"I'll be fine this is between Viktor and I."

Alejandro moved Y/n out of the way and headed out of the compound.

"Y/n!" John yells.

"He's still in there!" She cries.

"He'll be fine, Y/n, he's tough," Johnny tries to reassured her.

"I don't need that right now, I want my husband, I just got him back, I don't want to lose him."

They felt bad for Y/n, she cried on her knees, holding her face in her hands as tears streamed down her face.

"No need to worry," Johnny says, moving Y/n to turn and look.

"Simon!"

"No, need to cry, my love, I'm not going down that easily. It's gonna take more then that."

----------------

7 Months Later

"Si? Where are you?"

Simon came out of the bedroom and was in a very nice suit.

"Where are you going? Are you going to see your mistress?" She teased.

"Funny, no I'm not. I have meeting today."

"Is it to talk about your retirement?"

"No...that's another time, my love." He leans down kissing her lips and placed his big hand on her plump stomach. "Get some rest, you're gonna need so much strength for when this little one comes along."

"I know." She whines, putting her head back.

"I'll be back later."

"Fine," she groans. He just smiles down at her and pats her back giving her a soft kiss and waited for her to get under the covers and get comfortable before he leaves.

[isetfiretomyself]

Yandere Male Hero X G/N journalist Reader

Hiya! If this fic gets 50 likes I'll write a Yandere Villain fic! - Jay

warnings! Stalking, Violence, Yandere behaviour,This is all fictional! I don't condone toxic behaviour!

✨Yandere Hero who's unable to work a normal job so didn't really interact with anyone other then other heros, villains or government officials.

✨Yandere Hero you actually met without the mask! To you he was just an social awkward person with a good heart! He seemed really interested in your job as well!

✨ Yandere Hero who looked like a kicked puppy when he found your opinion on heros in one of your articles. You believe it makes civilians complacent and encourages villains to commit worse actions.

"Hey what's wrong Noah?" You asked Yandere Hero. "I-..I was just thinking about that Villain attack yesterday!" Noah was so bad at lying but for once the anxiety in his voice worked. You sighed "As much as I disagree with hero culture, I'm thankful that one hero was there." You turn to Yandere Hero "They kinda looked like you." You smile and nudged him gently. "What!? They look nothing like me..heheh."

✨Yandere Hero who patrols (stalks) around where you work, where you live or sometimes even where you're hanging out with your friends, what a coincidence! (It's just to make sure you're safe is what he tells himself)

✨ Yandere Hero who's blood drained from his face when he realised a Villain attacked the same event you were at.

✨ Yandere Hero who almost killed this Villain when he saw you underneath a bunch of rubble.

"No no no no!" He screamed out. With strength of a god he lifted the rubble with ease. "Hey ,hey (Name)! Come on open your eyes sweetie. Please? Please? For me..."

✨ Yandere Hero who knows a healer and begs (forces) them to heal you as much as possible. Which you were alive! Just confused, Why were you in someone's house? Why's a Hero clinging to you so tightly!?

"I'm sorry! Please! Please forgive me!" His voice broke, crying, sobbing even.

"Erm... there, there?" You say confused patting his back. He pulls away taking his mask off. "Huh!? Noah!?" You were so shocked you didn't react when he cupped your face. "I will never let anything happen to you... Never again."

(The healer in the corner is just like 😐)

✨ Yandere Hero who does an exclusive interview for you! He is was closer with you, just so his voice picks up on the mic! (Lair)

✨ Yandere Hero who knocked at your window after a brutal patrol night.

"Sorry... erm can I crash at yours, please?" And how could you say no to that?

✨ Yandere Hero who's muscle are covered in scars. You see them peaking out from his t-shirts, around his collar bones , his biceps and even his abs when his shirt riled up. It made you worry for him but he just chucked and called you silly.

"It's my job remember? It's all worth it for you."

✨ Yandere Hero who was so jealous when you interviewed another hero. You don't even their identity! Unbelievable! Totally unbelievable! (Definitely didn't work harder to outrank them out of spite)

✨ Yandere Hero who comes over to your apartment to dress you in his merch. He was just playing! It's what friends do! (Definitely doesn't just like seeing you in his brand, his name,him)

"You look like a mega fan, haha!"

"Shut up super boy!"

"Try me reporter ,please please please do..."

[vyoleya]

more of my complicated DR au! (i really need to come up with a name for this, huh) today we have; lloyd!!! (previous things here and here)

(fun fact! that first drawing was the first time i ever drew anything of this au, roughly around when i first created it, which was around may 2024! though it was VERY different back then) HUGE ramble/lore dump under the cut :)

if you read the long arin and sora thingy, then you'll know that lloyd is VERY dead, but unfortunately for him, even death won't remove him from the narrative. due to lloyd being the conduit, he actually had visions of his death months before it happening. of course, he was never really able to decipher the fact that it was him dying until a few weeks until it happened. (all he saw was a wolf warrior doing shatterspin, it took him awhile to realize it was object shatterspin, let alone that it was arin behind the mask.) however, these visions are just possible futures, and there actually was a way he could've survived. there were two things that could've happened; lloyd could have killed arin, or arin could've kill him. lloyd saw both of these options. but lloyd, knowing the whole 'curse of the first student' thing, he wanted to break the cycle. in order to do that, he went with the second option of letting arin kill him. hence, lloyd refusing to fight back against him, and letting himself be killed. (that isn't the only thing he saw in his visions, but we'll get to that later.) due to lloyd having the FSM on his side, along with being the conduit + having carried source dragon energy + being the green ninja + being too important to the narrative, lloyd's still got a lot to do. in his last moments, he clings desperately onto his life enough to say his last words to arin (something along the lines of 'i think i understand my father now, because even as we fight, im still so proud of you, and i know you'll do great things') but this has an... interesting effect, making lloyd merge with his element. his body still dies, and lloyd's merged element self / spirit (who i'll just call Life from now on) is taken to the grasslands. he also pulls arin alongside him for a few seconds, just to traumatize him a bit further! Life, being super wise and all powerful now, ends up harnessing the life inside of arin and residing within it, essentially making arin immortal. when arin came back from the grasslands, he found that there was practically no trace of lloyd, other than his blood & his sword. arin took the sword with him, and uses it as his main weapon.

lloyd's spirit is bound to arin, and while technically he COULD move on and be happy in the grasslands in death... he doesn't want to until he knows that everyone he loves will get their happy ending. while lloyd can't exactly show himself, everyone has found that they can feel his presence around arin, and they can feel the love and care practically radiating off of him :) but lloyd's not known as the 'green savior' for nothing though, as somehow even merged with his element, he keeps overprotective dad nature, and uses his green power to help keep those he loves alive. he's not able to speak or communicate to anyone, but he IS able to interact and move things in the environment that are alive / have energy (so plants & nature and somewhat electric things. he cant do anything with people because he's too busy keeping arin alive) (during arin and sora's frequent fights, Life consistently interjects by moving trees and creating holes or turning off their equipment to get them to stop fighting. it never works.)

he also is able to make certain things hum alive with green energy, which he can sometimes use to guide people to certain places. so if someone he loves ever gets lost in a forest, they'll find a glowing green path through the grass leading them back to safety. of course he can only be in one place at once, and so that person is usually arin. whenever arin takes any fatal blow, from being stabbed in the chest to losing a Whole Limb, whatever's damaged is replaced with life's for a second, then comes back like nothing happened. (people nearby swear that they can hear lloyd screaming whenever this happens.)

and finally, life is still the conduit. arin gets flashes of his visions from time to time, though it's not as violent/intruding as life takes the brunt of them. this is very important as when arin/z ends up time traveling back, past lloyd ends up being abruptly stripped of his conduit abilites, as life has them instead. this causes many problems. (i made an error on my last post that ive now corrected, arin did not end up in the third year of the merge, he came back during the peak of the blood moon, due to that having heightened magic. sora, however, travelled to the first year of the merge.) sora, not quite understanding the whole 'lloyd is keeping arin alive by choice' fully believes that his spirit is trapped and it's her duty to free him, even if she needs to kill arin in doing so. she messes around with vengestone, chronosteel, deepstone, and she even asks jordana to teach her magic and spells (jordana's still struggling after rox's possession, but more on that another day) but sora is never successful, as there isn't much information on how to stop Divine Entities With Father Figure Tendencies. this is a bit of a filler post while i try to figure out how im supposed to explain the post arin & sora time travel world... but ill get to that eventually haha. feel free to send any questions if you have em :) congrats if you read this far! (& heres a bonus doodle)

[phaazev]

Coalminer and the Canary

“I don’t want to hit Jimmy” mumbo said desperate as he looked down at the minecart in the spiders nest, spinning rapidly, taunting him- One pull of the lever could end the life of anyone below, or miss entirely. You had to get it right- limited resources are very important not to squander.

He felt nauseated looking at it- a blur of danger just mere feet below him. What if he fell into it? What then? Well it would be over. Mumbo shook his head, deciding to focus more on the kill instead of the danger he was also in. “I can’t take Jimmy out like that”

He looked out at the targets below- his eyes met Jimmy for a brief moment before mumbo heard the sound of claws raking the deepslate behind him. He spun around and saw it.

There was a small creature, perched on the wall. Its ragged black fur was the color of coal and soot, leather ashy wings protruding from its back. Its face was obscured by a hideous skull mask- the only thing he could see through its eye sockets were two embery slits- glowing and glaring at the redstoner. Its tail wrapped around the handle to a large broken analogue clock- its face cracked and its hands stopped. But most curious of all was the fact the creatures torso was non existent. In its place was an empty birdcage.

Mumbo instinctively stepped back- and his foot slipped over the edge. He gasped as he felt himself falling. It seemed to be in slow motion- but his eyes never tore away from the firey ones of the stand in front of him- glaring as it watched him fall.

The explosion went off only seconds later and lightning struck the tower. Grian shouted in pain as Mumbo was taken from the game. And as suddenly as it appeared- the stand was gone.

Jimmys eyes widened as he saw the explosion- and he felt that something had saved him. He had hoped it wasn’t true- but when he saw Canary in a Coal Mine hiding in his shadow he knew it was. The silence of the creature was deafening. Unlike other stands it uttered no cry- it struck silently- and pushed jimmys fate onto an unlucky other.

Jimmy was glad he was alive of course; but he had wished it took out Grian and not Mumbo. Or maybe even skizz. Grian had threatened Jimmy from day one. Mumbo didn’t deserve that- he didn’t pose a threat so great as Grian did. Jimmy knew his stand didn’t work that way though. it takes advantage of the situation and whatever or whoever was in the most danger. And unfortunately- Mumbo had made the fatal error of hesitating for far too long. Had he pulled the lever he would have ended jimmy’s life before Canary in a Coal Mine would have reached him. But he didn’t- and now he was gone.

[onesentencemusings]

You won't go into Jafar so I will.

The big thing they add to LA Jafar was him admitting he was a streetrat too (I know it was mentioned in the original in cut songs but it was cut so we can't take that as 100% intended canon to that version specifically) and that would be a cool angle for LA Jafar if they ever used it.

They use it as a hook for Aladdin to trust Jafar which wasn't needed cuz Jafar brought him out to the desert with armed guards to make him go to the Cave of Wonders. So why even bother? Either have Jafar pretend to 'save' Aladdin from the guards (claiming its because he wanted to help a 'fellow' streetrat) and make the Cave of Wonders be how Aladdin 'repays' him or just have Aladdin be forced with the guards to go in. You can't both strong-arm AND sweet-talk at once.

The Acting:

I think everyone can agree Jafar was too flat but I can contextually defend it as Jafar should feel like he wears a mask, that he isn't honest and open about who he is for the sake of getting what he wants out of people. But LA Jafar doesn't accomplish that.

In the OG movie the second Jafar leaves the Sultan's sight he rolls his eyes so hard they almost pop out of his head. You know from this tiny gesture that Jafar HATES the people around him. Even though the Sultan was nice, trusting, respectful and generous with him, he still despises working for him. OG Jafar takes the prim and proper mask off the second he can get away with it and we're shown he's an evil, selfish man in the face of kindness, not because of a lack of it.

In the remake, there is no mask-off moments. There's just little outbursts where he just yells for a second before being flat again but that just reads like a kid that learned being loud enough will get him what he wants. Even in his own room, LA Jafar talks like he talks to the Sultan. (Credit where it's due, the actor can LOOK crazy but just couldn't manage to put more life into his lines) The most we ever get is Jafar laughing wildly when he gets Genie's lamp and then it's back to being flat the rest of the movie, just a bit louder and ruder.

OG Jafar goes magnificently insane with power. His mask is gone and burned. No restraint, no hesitation, just pure lust for power that makes the audience realize however bad Jafar was before is nothing compared to what he is now.

LA Jafar never feels like a bigger threat. He wishes to be Sultan which is unsatisfying-ly undercut by Jasmine's shoehorned-in new song and her just talking the guards into standing up to Jafar.... which itself is also unsatisfying-ly undercut by Jafar poofing people out of the plot. So a bunch happens to the effect of nothing. How exciting...

Even being a powerful sorcerer doesn't help LA Jafar because he uses magic so sparsely. OG Jafar did a whole song with magic, playing with Aladdin and Jasmine, shooting down every threat without a sweat. All LA Jafar does is poof people away, make Iago big and has Jasmine float a bit. No one was hurt! So why is he being treated like he's a threat?

Then LA Aladdin's whole speech to Jafar just... sucks. Aladdin talks about how Jafar is trying to "find what he's looking for in the lamp" and "I tried and failed" except no, Aladdin's only REAL wish was to be a prince for Jasmine. The wish to save his life was a necessity, not a conscious choice made to fulfill a personal desire. If he means how he was not going to free Genie, well that doesn't count either cuz he didn't fail anything there, he just thought about being selfish but didn't follow through.

The novelization states this is Aladdin trying to reach out and 'save' Jafar but again it doesn't make sense why Aladdin feels this way so it just feels like Aladdin wasn't reading Jafar right and had to pivot to the "Genie has more power" thing as a backup. (Don't get me started on the novel version of this movie. It's a frustrating mixed bag)

OG Aladdin clocked that Jafar's insecurity the minute he started talking to him one-on-one and went for the kill, no hesitation. There's no thought of 'saving' Jafar because he is such an obvious giant threat. No one want to talk redemption for OG Jafar. We know he's too far gone by the time Aladdin is even back in the palace.

Really, the LA movie almost frames IAGO as why Jafar snaps and wishes to be a genie by just repeating "Second". They were too cowardly to even let the HERO be the HERO. They had to put a buffer in to keep Aladdin from being 100% at fault. It's why so many early Disney villains fall instead of being killed by the hero's sword; to keep the hero's hands clean.

Iago as a whole is completely wasted space. Honestly I woulda preferred them going the stageshow route and have Iago be a short human helper to Jafar. At least then it wouldn't compete with Gilbert Gottfried's Iago.

I preferred OG Jafar using his genie powers to just play with the stars over LA Jafar trying to destroy a city that he just has a stick up his butt about the whole movie. You were in a Shaibab jail for five years? And? He never says it was painful or torturous. Never says why he was there either. For all we know he just stole someone's purse and just got caught. Heard somewhere it was him being a prisoner of war cuz he used to be in the military but pfff they never say that anywhere in this movie. So screw you, Shiabab, you ruined his life apparently. 🤷

I care a lot about Jafar. Hell, I'm writing a whole fanfic redoing Return of Jafar cuz he deserved better. And I liked LA Jafar too at first, but it fell apart the more I processed and rewatched it. Honestly, the remake needs a remake and I'll compromise by having the remake-remake 3D CGI. Maybe then, they'll let magic actually be used in the movie about a GENIE.

Hi! How do you think the Aladdin live action remake compares to the animated film? I'm interested to hear criticisms but I also found it to be one of the more fun-to-watch remakes.

Okay

Here’s the thing

This is not your fault. I work with students on the weekends and several of them from different walks of life and grades have told me that they like the Live Action Aladdin better than the original and not just that they like it, they love it, for some of them it’s their favorite. Movie.

And I just feel like I’m living in the Twilight Zone. So any overzealousness in responding to this ask is not directed at you, I think you have good taste and a good head on your shoulders.

But their favorite? Their favorite movie? LA Aladdin is so bad. Objectively. Like, from a movie-making standpoint, if you didn’t even compare it to the original. I’m thinking, pacing-wise, first and foremost. Why does it feel like “One Jump” was so poorly choreographed that the people in it couldn’t move in-time with the tempo, so the editor had to fast forward their motions to fit the lyrics? Didn’t even try to cover that up? Why does all the costumes look like costumes, like we’re in a really elaborate high-budget high school production?

Secondly, acting. The guy who played Aladdin at no point convinced me that he was in love with Jasmine, afraid for his life, or insecure. At no point. And those are all very important to the plot. And he’s the lead. Even Will Smith feels like he’s trying to put himself in the head of his character in high-emotion situations but he can’t quite get there. Feels forced. The bad CGI doesn’t help.

Thirdly, likability of characters.

LA Aladdin—the character—is handsome. And that��s it. Other than that, he’s a dipstick crossed with a complete jerk. He falls backward out of windows and fumbles around in front of girls and clings to a lie at the cost of his new best friend’s eternal freedom just because he starts to believe that lie, himself, and get a big head?

Genie is preachy, not funny. He has no believable stake in the game—because they removed all reference to him caring about his own freedom to make him seem more flawless. Why? Why did they do that? The original Genie gets sarcastic and even bratty, out of genuine hurt, when, after all he’s done for him, Aladdin turns back on his promise and refuses to set him free. Why does he act bratty and hurt? BECAUSE HE IS HURT. Because for ten thousand years that’s been his fondest dream, and because he started to think Aladdin was his real genuine friend, but in this all the emphasis is placed on painting Aladdin as a scummy punk who won’t listen to reason so that the new Genie and the girl-power Princess can look better by comparison.

So Genie can’t say, “after all, you’ve lied to everyone else, I was beginning to feel left out. If you’ll excuse me—Master.”

Because that would be him showing a lack of grace. Bitterness. Might make Genie, himself, look a little flawed—RELATABLE AND HUMAN, and it might underline the fact that he meant it when he said he wanted freedom. Oh, no, we can’t have that. Just have him say, all noble, “oh, you’re gonna drink from that cup. You’re breaking my heart.”

Please.

Who cares that Genie is set free when Genie didn’t seem to be all that trapped or broken-up about his captivity beforehand? Leave him in the lamp, he’s happy as a benevolent fairy godfather, doling out wisdom and one-liners for all eternity to ungrateful brats. 🙄 That’s how any competent audience member feels when they changed Genie’s characterization around.

And again, they made those changes so that Genie would look wiser and more gracious in that moment. Gee I wonder why they needed to make Genie seem more flawless this time around. I wonder what’s different about this Genie versus the original Genie.

And not only that, but they changed Jasmine’s character to make her more flawless and perfect, too. Because “women empowerment.” So now she’s not a real human girl who wants to be treated like a human being and get to be normal. No way, that’s too “simple naive girl” of her. We gotta make her strongggg and wiiiiise and a better leader than her father. Now she’s a political dreamer!

EUGH.

That’s not Jasmine. The whole point of the original Jasmine is that she wanted to be free, to be treated like a human, not a prized pet or a trophy, and she wanted a real friend. She never wanted to be Sultan. Never never never. She was the type of character who was trusting enough to assume a shopkeeper would happily give an apple away to a starving child—trusting enough to still love Prince Ali even though he turned out to be a liar not once but twice,—trusting enough to teach HIM TRUST.

Trust that he’s not going to be cast off just because he’s a street-rat! Trust that he can let other people know who he is, without having to be all money-and-status obsessed—

—no, listen, listen,

Aladdin’s whole character—and this movie is supposed to be about Aladdin—is that he’s insecure about who he is.

He thinks that because he’s poor and lives on the streets nobody will love him and he’ll always have problems that he’s trapped in. What does he think the solution to those problems are?

Wealth. Royalty.

And is that true? Are wealth and royalties also the guarantee of problems going away? No. But he’s never had those things before, so how would he know that?

I’ll tell you how.

Jasmine shows him.

When they’re in his hovel in the city, he is so excited to show her his view of the palace, and it’s the first thing that takes his eyes off of her for the scene—and she immediately turns away, dispirited, sits down, and sarcastically pops his daydream-bubble of how nice it must be to live in the palace. She is the reason his idea of having “no problems in the palace” stops being his dream. And they both bond over feeling trapped.

If Princess Jasmine wants to be Sultan, instead of wanting to be normal and free, then Aladdin is less able to connect with and relate to her. Their romance is less impactful. And she has less of an impact on him, on changing the way he sees the world. Because they go from “real people” to “strong-female-character and her supportive-male-trophy-boyfriend.”

And. Furthermore. He doesn’t even have to face the pressure of being offered the position of “Sultan.” Because Jasmine wants to be Sultan. So the LA movie just quietly eliminates the part where Sultan offers that to Aladdin, and fear and doubt cross over his face, and his big character flaw of insecurity makes a comeback. They just eliminate that part. So that Jasmine can want to be Sultan, and Aladdin can remain mildly supportive.

That is awful.

Because then, in this scene, which is the unraveling of all three main characters:

Aladdin has no real reason not to set Genie free. Absolutely none. They just came from a meeting where his future as a prince is guaranteed, and the villain seems to be gone. And, Aladdin feels no fear. Because he doesn’t have to be Sultan. He can just be a pampered prince on the arm of Jasmine. He clings to the lie—even though he starts this scene by saying it’s not a lie. He tells Genie he can’t do it on his own—but then he says he’s changed, “Aladdin is gone,” so which is it? Is he lying and he therefore needs Genie to keep it up, or is he no-longer-Aladdin so it’s not a lie and therefore he doesn’t need Genie anymore? Either way, his reasons for keeping Genie around are nonsensical. Cruel. Self-centered. Mind numbingly stupid. The scene is written terribly because they’re having to play TWISTER around the character motivations they’ve been slicing to pieces. So Aladdin is no longer sadly but relatably affirming that he’s still insecure, and needs the lie to keep the woman he loves: “Without you, I’m just Aladdin.” Instead, he’s a self-righteous double-talking punk. So that his girlfriend can look empowered and his genie can look wise.

Genie preaches and sermonizes and talks-down-to instead of honestly and emotionally reacting to the fact that his friend is betraying him and refusing the one dream he’s ever had. Will Smith’s face doesn’t move when he says “you’re breaking my heart.” He says it like an emotionally-manipulative school teacher, who knows the phrase sounds impactful but has no real vulnerable emotion to attach to the tone he says it in. It’s bad acting, is what I’m saying. And no wonder, because nothing about this is compelling. If Genie doesn’t care much about being free, then what’s the big deal, in this conversation? Why are they even arguing? Because Genie is disappointed in his new best friend’s moral fiber? None of that stopped him from helping Aladdin with the lie up until now. So now both characters look stupid and duplicitous, but Genie has the disadvantage of looking unsympathetic, too. Who cares if he’s free at the end of the movie—he “doesn’t care nothing about that wish.”

Jasmine isn’t in this scene but as I’ve said a hundred times, she cannot want to be Sultan. That cannot be her dream. Because if it is, 1) she’s not Jasmine. Shes not the girl who sics her tiger on princes and lets birds out of their palace cages and most importantly runs away. When they give her a new Girl Power dream, they have to go with the much-lamer version of the story where she’s not leaving behind everything she knew and boldly, if naively, trying to start a new life when she meets Aladdin. She doesn’t get to show that she’s willing to throw all that away and walk back into her gilded cage to save his life when her adventure gets him captured by palace guards. Instead, she’s just sneaking out to get to know her people for a quick little jaunt in the marketplace, and he’s caught later by himself in a less-emotionally impactful way like a bumbling cat-burglar in the palace, while she lies like we’re in a romcom. 2) she can’t want to be Sultan because it means she has an end-date to feeling “trapped” on the calendar, and that’s when her father dies and her dream automatically comes true. Regardless of who she’s married to. So there again, no reason to really connect with Aladdin. 3) Jasmine’s whole character is that she wants to be treated like a human. Being the Suktanwould be the exact opposite of that, for her. She’s already lived that. I’m so fed up with what they did to Jasmine. She was the perfect Princess for the lesson “the truth will set you free” and in this remake they made her the focal point of “positions of power will set you free.”

I’m not even going to go into Jafar.

This movie is terrible.

[dismas-n-dismay]

I'm not fucking joking when I tell you I saw this panel and literally started sobbing and crying over seeing my babygirl buying chocolate with just fucking quarters. This is the people's jason todd for real, thank you Juni Ba

[starrysharks]

reassassination's resident yuri devil

[saaltskies]

i was gonna share my xenoblade thoughts the next day because i was full of them but very tired however it is the next day and i forgot how to thought

[tonycries]

Golden Boy - G.S.

Synopsis. Falling right back in love with the cult leader you’re supposed to kíll? Happens more often than you’d think.

Pairing. Geto Suguru x Reader 

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, friends/lovers to enemies to lovers, oral (fem receiving), facesítting, creampíe, slight Gojo x Reader, running away from it, Suguru is so SOOO in love still, unprotected, spítting, kinda angsty, hurt/comfort, mentions of bIood and kníves, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.4k

A/N. I was listening to fantasmas while writing this so take that how you will LMAO.

The difficult part, surprisingly, wasn’t infiltrating Geto Suguru’s Time Vessel Association. No, a few faux tears, a decoy curse, and you were in - stepping through his grandiose hideout. The difficult part was convincing yourself that you were here to kill him. 

Something that utterly foolish little part of yourself still had trouble believing - even when you had a knife to his throat. 

“Any last words?” you spit, muffled through your mask, thankful for the way it covers up just how much your voice shakes. Maybe because of the way his lips curl into a familiar smile, maybe from his cool dagger pressing against the back of your neck.

Seconds away from a bloodbath. 

You don’t know if you’re breathing - or if he is either. Eyes locked on the way Sugur- your target only raises his hand up, up, up - getting ready to strike. To kill. Only you’d get him first and-

Snip!

You’re not dead. But you might as well have been, because your mask falls onto the tatami mat with a deafening clatter. 

“You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.”

It’s hard not to remember. 

“You don’t have any right to say that.” your knees tighten around where you had him straddled to the ground. Your hand pinning one of his down, blade digging deeper into Suguru’s pale neck - eyeing the slow, steady drop of blood that beads down it. “Didn’t think you’d remember me, either.”

With your mask now no longer on your face, you could traitorously take in that relaxed grin - as if your life wasn’t in his hands right now. As if he didn’t care. 

Suguru’s hair was much longer now, splayed out across the floor inkily. Circling around his broad shoulders, around the eyes that were just a bit harder than they were ten years ago. And yet, you catch the way they flicker briefly with something so raw as he whispers gently, “How could I ever forget my first love?”

So quiet that you could’ve blamed it on your imagination - and you wish you did. 

It’s so unfair. 

Unfair how you let out a gasp, despite yourself. Unfair how you were the best sword wielder that Jujutsu had to offer, yet your fingers tremble on your knife. Heart stuttering at the mere sight of the way his eyes crinkle with the beginnings of a smile. Pleading, like all he could see was you from what felt like a thousand lifetimes ago. 

Those golden years. Back when rare Susanoomon cards were what you’d fight over, and the only stains he’d wipe off were from the grassy grounds of Jujutsu High, still faint underneath the encrusted blood on that uniform nestled away deep in his wardrobe.

You manage to grit out, “Shut up. You left me- us.”

“I did.”

Like it was all he wanted to see. 

“You never loved me.”

“I do.”

Your voice is shrill at this point, words stumbling over each other. “You’ve massacred more people than you’ve saved.”

Suguru wastes no time denying - or in any niceties. Looking right into your absolutely crazed eyes as he answers, “I have.” And his answer rings so hollow and emotionless in your ears, cold-blooded. Absolutely nothing like the boy you remembered. The one that would laugh and steal you away to take you around campus on his bicycle, all because the next class was “too far”.

“I- fuck.” You place both hands on the hilt of your blade, distantly registering the way that Suguru lets his own drop onto the floor. “I should kill you- I should kill you right now.”

Just one flick of your wrist. Fast and simple. 

In and out - exactly like you’d been ordered to. 

“And to die by your hand would be a death that someone like me doesn’t deserve.”

You both jolt when your knife hits the ground - as if neither of you were expecting it. And before you can stop yourself, you’re fisting his thick robes, pulling Suguru’s face up closer to yours. Mere inches away. 

“Then- then I’ll-” you choke, a hand coming up to dig into the sides of his milky neck, leaving neat, red indents on his skin. “I’ll kill you with my own hands, Suguru.”

And he’s known you for years - would never admit it, but was by your side for only half as long as he’d watched over you. 

Saw - only from a distance -  those big fat tears you cried at graduation, the curve of your lips as you pulled a very reluctant Nanami into a hug outside his new office building. The steely look in your eyes meeting Satoru’s much softer one, telling him first how you’re going into teaching. And the smile on your face when you thought of who else might have, too. If he’d gotten the chance.

Always hidden.

Never so close to this frenzied glint in your gaze, a tiny sob threatening to escape your lips. Never like this - and yet, he never thinks you’ve looked so beautiful. 

But what would someone like him know about beauty, anyway?

You flinch as Suguru reaches a hand up to thumb away the furrow between your brows, catching on the single, stray tear sitting at your cheekbone. Whispering - so low that you involuntarily crane your head closer to hear - “Still such a crybaby.”

“And you’re still going to be the death of me.”

Soft - Suguru’s lips are as soft as you imagined. And it’s not exactly the tender, picture-perfectly romantic first kiss his teenage self dreamt up with you, but fuck if he wasn’t going to remember this like it was. 

Perfect. 

Pretty lips smothering yours, all slow and sensual. Drinking in those deliciously breathless gasps of yours as he sucks on your candied lips. 

You gasp, “Suguru.” and it comes out teary. Making you finally register the wetness rolling down your cheeks, glistening against the dim lighting. You tighten your grip around his neck, “This won’t fix-”

“I know.” Fuck, does he know better than anyone else. 

A hand slides up your forearm, the other cupping your face to pull you closer. He’s running his hot tongue along your cheek, pooling your salty tears on his lips. “But let me make you forget - if just for tonight. Please.”

The only answer Suguru gets is your fingers leaving his neck, dancing feather-light across his sculpted shoulders to slide under his robe. Feeling the smooth plane of his pecs underneath your palm, that traitorously thundering heartbeat he wishes he could slow down. “Kiss me.”

“Fuck.” he pants into your open mouth. The sight of your glossy, slightly puffy lips having him surge forward to reattach his with yours with a pained grunt. “God- jus’ a bit more, my love.”

Again. And again and again- like he was addicted. 

He’d always been, with you, anyway.

You let out a sinful sound of his name when Suguru kisses down your neck, lips slotting over your racing pulse. Throbbing and so real under his lips, remembering how he used to feel this song under his arms long before. 

“Oh- shit.” you moan, when his now rougher - larger - hands sneak underneath your crumpled shirt, deftly unbuttoning. Unbuckling. Impatient. “Sugu-”

A hoarse groan leaves him, only spurring him to all but rip the rest of your uniform off your body faster. 

And at the first sight of you clad in nothing but your panties, Suguru’s kiss-bitten lips are falling slack. Brows shooting up into the dark strands of hair sticking to his forehead now, “Been missing out, hm?” He’s dipping a hand down to run the back of his index along your clothed, puffy folds. Up and down. “Really been-” Heart clenching when he remembers the way Satoru now looks at you with a familiar glint. One he knew all too well. “-missing out, my love.”

You’re only trailing your fingers along his cheek - his neck, grazing over that little mark from your blade. He groans - maybe from your touch, probably from the way you’re dragging your cunt across that massive bulge underneath you. “Please, Suguru. Wan’ you.” 

And if Geto Suguru has spent ten years denying himself, surely he could sacrifice it for the way he lifts your stuttering, sloppy hips up so easily. All the way up until they were hovering over his mouth, hot breath hitting your clothed cunt. 

“Wanna taste you.” he groans, spying on the way your slick beads through your panties. “Wan’ see if you’re as hah- sweet as I imagined. Please.”

And he’s obsessed with the way you’re sinking yourself down so gently, cock jumping at the thought of you afraid you’d suffocate him - as if you didn’t have your blade at his throat just minutes ago.

“Fuuuck, don’t worry, pretty.” he groans, soft darting to lick at the juices smeared across your inner thighs. “Some more now. Put it all on me, I can take it- fuck-”

Your syrupy sweet cunt has Geto losing whatever’s left of his fucking restraint, dark eyes rolling to the back of his head because you were so sweet. So pretty looking down at him with your glassy eyes. So addictive. He moans, chest heaving as he breathes in your essence. “What happened to that feist from earlier? Gonna hafta do a lil’ more than that now.”

“B-but-”

It’s at this moment you realize that at any given moment Suguru could’ve easily taken the upper hand. A hand of his pulls down your hesitant hips, swollen lips against your covered ones in such a filthy kiss. 

He hums into your folds, bunching your panties between them. “Mmm. Shit- jus’ like I imagined.” Hot tongue dipping just underneath the flimsy fabric to feel out your sloppy entrance, “Better, even. Jus’ look how well you’re taking me, pretty.”

But you don’t - too scared to find out that you’d like the sight more than you should. How you wished you could go back to the golden days where it didn’t matter - wasn’t a matter of life and death. And something else entirely. 

And this dilemma has Suguru’s brows furrowing, sharp canines lightly nipping at one of your swollen folds. Wanting to see how it’s him - despite everything, it’s still him making you feel this way. “None of that now.”

RIP!

With this you have to look down, a desperate whine leaving your stupid mouth at the fucking sinful sight down below. Your panties now a tattered excuse in between Suguru’s teeth, baring them with such a devilish grin right up at you. 

“See?” he spits out the fabric onto the floor beside him, half-lidded eyes peering up at you so sultry. Looking right at you as his tongue lolls out, spreading your bare, needy folds shamefully. “Isn’t this much better?”

“Hngh- fuck, yes-” you slide your fingers through his now-messy hair, falling out of that half-bun. Jolting on top with each push of his tongue past that feeble ring of resistance, the lewd squelches leaving you with each graze of the wet muscle against your walls. “Shit- Suguru it feels too good. So deep ngh-”

He swats a hand against your ass, making you sit your slutty hips down deeper, all the way till Suguru’s jaw was grinding so greedily against your cunt. Tongue bullying past your folds in and out in and out in and-

“God- hah-” he’s pulling away to gasp deep lungfuls of air - secondary, to the way he was back immediately to making out so hotly with your tight pussy. “Mmm fuck. This cute lil cunt is so needy. S’like you’re trynna suck my tongue off.” Thumb reaching up to draw slow, languid circles that have you throwing your head back. “So perfect.”

Your delirious mouth is dropping open, body moving before your mind as you strain to reach your hand behind. Trembling. Shaky when you manage to cup Suguru’s aching erection. 

“G-guess m’not the only one ah- needy, hm?” you smirk, having him bucking and spitting out harsh little profanities with each rub of your palm down his drenched length. 

Suguru doesn’t give you a response - because his fingers are speaking on his behalf. Dipping into your sloppy hole, locating your g-spot, as if on instinct. He’s milking your pretty cunt while he roams for those sweet spots. Lips muffling around your throbbing clit, “You’re always right, my love. You always were.”

And his words are so gentle - mouth so sloppy. Squelches so obscene. 

Nose pressing up at the top of your abdomen, cheeks hollowing wetly around the sensitive nub. Letting your juices drip all the way down his chin, his jaw, dangerously close to that cut on his neck. 

The hand sliding back and forth across the swollen outline of his cock had Suguru get more frenzied. Faster. Like it was his personal mission to make you cum on his tongue before he fucking passed out. 

Penetrating your gummy hole with both his fingers and his tongue, spreading it open more. And it’s all you can do to keen, “Oh- oh my god.” Riding Suguru’s pretty face harder. “Shit- m’close, Suguru.”

“Always right.” he gasps, swiping his tongue faster across your clit. “Always perfect” Alternating between squeezing back into your hole, your sweet spots. Stretching out your gummy walls as far as they’d go. “Always made f’me.” Assaulting it with both his fingers and his tongue. Again. And again and again and- “Jus’ wish I got to have you sooner.”

His words make you snap your eyes up from his mean mouth to meet his gaze, devouring you as greedily and depraved as his tongue. They make your thighs burn with the effort to drag your sloppy pussy faster.

They make you cum - shaking, crying out little mewls of “Ngh- fuck. M’cumming m’cumming m’cumming.”

The way your voice is breaking at the end of each moan has Suguru’s cock straining so painfully against his trousers. One hand firmly on your waist, arching you deeper to tongue you through your high in ways he’s only ever dared to imagine. 

Ways he’s selfishly hoped only he could - even after all these years, the sight of any other man looking at you wrong having his irritation flaring. 

“S’right.” his voice is sending stars bursting behind your lids, tongue even worse. Having you pleading and so sensitive. “I got you, my love. Give it t’me.” Messy - not as forgiving as he’d like to be. “Give it alllll to me.”

And you do - all but smothering Suguru’s eager tongue with all your sweet juices. Ones he’s lapping up happily, tilting his head back as far as it’d go on the floor, letting your heady slick fill up his throat. His pussydrunk lips let out a hiss, both at the burn of that cut on his neck, and the way you’re desperately pulling your hips back. 

Too overstimulated. Too fucking sensitive. Too much - but it would never be enough for Suguru. 

“Please, Suguru.” you sob at the way your limp hips are being pulled back by a needy Suguru. “M’too sensitive. I- fuck-” He’s only lapping at your quivering cunt leisurely, smirk prominent against your swollen folds. 

And it’s all you can do to deliriously slip a hand underneath his robes, a desperate attempt to keep whatever shred of sanity you have left. Fingers feeling down his unfairly toned abs, the tufts of hair at his pelvis, reaching-

“Oh fuck!” Your heavy eyes admire the way Suguru arches into your touch in surprise - like he couldn’t help himself. Eyes flying open, glossy, plump lips curling into a disbelieving grin, “Ya really are made f’me, huh?” 

That’s all it takes for Suguru to head to your lewd whims, bruising fingers on your hips finally loosening to let you sit your sloppy cunt back down on his lap - except, this time, you were seated directly on his rock-hard cock. Pussy lips spreading around his length to just soak him. 

“Oh, my love.” He sits up, splaying you out so prettily on his lap. “How I’ve missed you.”

You don’t even register the way you’re raising your head up to meet Suguru’s - not until he spits. Once. Twice. Straight onto your awaiting tongue that you didn’t even realize you were sticking out, saccharine sweet saliva making such a mess when he’s crashing his lips into yours. 

“Yeahh, like that. Kiss me like that.” he slurs against your mouth, drunk off both sets of your sweet lips. Getting out through wet, sloppy pecks. “How I wish I had you sooner.”

You can feel your heart thumping so wildly against your ribcage, matching the needy, needy staccato of Suguru’s cock throbbing between your puffy folds. And, well, you really can’t be blamed for the way you break the kiss to look down and oh-

Oh Suguru notices that furrow between your brows, kissing away the nervous little wobble in your lower lips as he grunts, “God, you’re killin’ me.” 

Fuck. Killing him?

You were the one sent in for the kill, but it seems you won’t be making it out here alive. 

Because Suguru was so big, girth rubbing up against your thighs. So angry and heavy, smearing hot precum over his abs, your cunt, adding to add to the absolute mess. Long enough that you knew you wouldn’t be able to walk out of here - which, honestly, Suguru would’ve preferred. To keep you with him forever. 

To have you always mewling so prettily when he’s dragging his fat head down your sensitive slit. To have his name - and only his name - leave your bruised lips when he’s asking, “Who’s got you this wet?” 

You’re so cockdrunk already that you’re groaning mindlessly, “You- Suguru-”

“No, that’s not what you call me.” 

And it takes you a few, long seconds to understand what he’s saying, all the while trying to focus with the leaky tip being pressed past your swollen folds. Slow. Torturous. Hitting you so violently at the same time he slips past that first, slutty ring of muscle. 

“Sugu!”

A blinding grin splits across Suguru’s absolutely fucked-out face, brows furrowing together in ecstasy. “That’s more hah- like it.” Not having heard that familiar little nickname - one of your many - fall from your lips since high school - one that makes a heart he forgot he had grow five sizes too large. “Now, just take me-” Hips bucking up, so strong and ruthless. “-like I know you can, okay?”

Over and over. 

You can’t let out anything but barely-lucid whines at this point, letting Suguru sink in inch by fucking inch. Your walls stretched out so perfectly to take his sheer size. But the stretch- oh, the stretch.

Fuck, it has you clawing at Suguru’s exposed shoulders, fingers leaving angry, red marks down the muscles. An obscene ah! ah! ah! leaving your lips with each time he reels his hips back, only to bully his aching cock inside until he physically couldn’t.

“Hngh- Sugu, s’too big-” You buck your hips down in shallow, tentative grinds to meet his filthy method of fitting in. “Too- much. Didn’t expect you to be so mean-”

“The sorcerer that hah- held a knife to the infamous Geto Suguru’s neck-” he groans, hands groping your ass to move you further down his massive cock. To watch the way your sloppy entrance was stretching out so much to suck him up. “-can take this too, right? I know you can.” He reaches a deft thumb around to toy with your pretty clit, making your cunt relax like the good girl she is. Fucking up deeper, just a bit more mean. “You- can-”

Several things happen at the tail end of Suguru’s sentence - he’s finally fitting in all in one go. With a calculated, harsh thrust up into your poor cunt, your ass is kissing his heavy balls, pussy rubbing against the hair at his hilt. So full and so much.

And Suguru knows he just might not see heaven - but shit, does he feel like he’s there right now. The feeling so good that both of you letting out mingling gasps of pleasure. 

Your back falling onto the now soiled mats like such animals, the other not far behind.

“You alright, my love?” Suguru hums against your throat when you’re managing to adjust somewhat to the stretch, aware enough to kiss the palm resting protectively underneath your head - making sure you don’t hurt yourself.

You bat your teary lashes, “Never been better, Sugu.”

And something about that makes him remember. 

Remember the way you’d tell him the exact same thing when you fought with curses too strong for you - coming back to the dorms all battered and bruised, but alive. Flashing him that addictive grin, and a crooked thumbs up, “Never been better, Sugu. Gold, actually.”

His golden girl.

Shaking away the tightness at his throat, Suguru instead focuses on wrapping your trembling legs around his toned waist. Tight.

“Sh-shit- you’re milkin’ me so good, fuck-”

Abs burning as he just drags his cock along your plushy walls, keeping your legs held wide open for him. So tight - like you were sucking the fucking soul out of him. Making sure to angle his hips in just the way that’ll have your eyes tearing at the way he was massaging all your sweet spots. 

And sure enough - “O-oh my god-” you breathe, and shit, it was so hard to speak. Suguru’s cock too big, too depraved. Speeding up with every ram of his hips into a steady, mean pace. “Jus’ like that, fuck-”

“Mhm?”

You paw at his free hand settled by the side of your neck, trailing it down, down, down - rings and all - to the part of your stomach you could feel his thick tip hitting. A slight bulge, abusing your cervix over and over, “Here-”

“-s’where I belong.”

Your brows raise at his interjection, and you swipe away the long locks of hair partially covering Suguru’s face, legs tightening around his hips as you take a long, hard look. He repeats, “S’where I belong. Where ngh- you belong.”

Like some deep, dark part of him was trying to fuck out any and every doubt about this out of you - as if you’d have any - Suguru’s rolling his hips harder into yours. All the way until it almost hurt - until the sting of his twitching balls against your ass felt permanent, fingerpads pressing down so hard on your stomach. 

Lips searing against yours, punctuating each word with a jagged, rough thrust. “Because you sh-shouldn’t be ah- here. You shouldn’t be-” He drags you deeper onto his dick like some ragdoll, fingers frenzying on your clit. “-with me.”

Words slurring and as sloppy as his hips now. 

“Wh-why fuck- why wouldn’t I be?”

“Heh, you forgot?” Suguru spits out a chuckle, pushing you further and further up the mat with how bruising his hips were hitting yours. Alternating between marking your cervix - your g-spot - your gummy walls. “Forgot how I told ya to live a better life than this?” Everything and anything. Hips smacking so loud, echoing in symphony with those melancholy words he parted with so long ago. “How I told you to hngh- find a-another? Live a long life? To be happy?”

Now that Suguru was talking, it was like he couldn’t stop. Like a damn had been broken - both with his words and his movements. The curve of his dick drives you wild, veins molding your cunt into their shape. 

Gritting his teeth to hold back the way his drenched balls squeeze so painfully, biting down on your lower lip. “You’re s-supposed to kill me.” A drop of sweat splashing down on your cheek, “To kill me and maybe you’ll be hah- fuck mine in another universe. But not this one.” It’s like he’s out of control now, “Never this one. You can have anybody else.”

And suddenly you’re having a flashback to just a week prior, to an uncharacteristically solemn Satoru telling you words you should’ve been happy to hear. Quiet, and unassuming. Ones you knew that had you heard them before knowing Suguru, you’d have jumped into his arms - exactly how he hoped you would, the day of his departure. 

Chuckling at you being such a “crybaby” about him leaving. After all, this was just meant to be, right?

But no.

Instead, you’re here. Bunching Suguru’s beautiful, glossy hair curtaining the sides of your head, into a ponytail. Difficult - with how he was getting faster. Harder. Just ravaging your hole until you were gaping and breathless.

And yet, arms trembling and limp, you still manage to reveal the boy you fell in love with - the one you could never forget. From the flush on his pretty face, to the twisted, sad curve of his mouth. And the eyes that bore into yours like they were searching for the same thing. Smiling, for the first time since you entered this place, “How could I ever want anyone else, Sugu?”

The hand on your stomach is cupping your adorable face so softly - and it’s hard to believe those hands have killed. Betrayed.

Like they were capable of doing anything but as Suguru swipes the single tear glistening down your cheek, “Still a crybaby, huh, my love?”

And then you cum - and Suguru isn’t too far behind. 

It’s just a flash of hot white, tingles running down your spine - all the way to the thick, creamy base soon forming around his wildly twitching cock. 

And it’s so good. Too good that all you can do it scream out his name, letting him do anything - and you were glad all he did was fuck you so mercilessly through your high. So violent. Addictive. 

Vision blurry, mouth sagging open for Suguru to press intimate little kisses along the corners of your mouth. Whispering sweet praises as your cunt sucks him up so good. So sinfully milking him for everything he’s worth. 

Taking in rope after rope of thick cum that warms your gummy walls from the inside, overfilling just enough for it to dribble down into the mat below in an obscene little pool. Smearing down your thighs, his balls. Heavenly. 

His heaven.

And in the haze of it all, Suguru imagines that you’ll reach for your knife again, press it back against the curve of his exposed neck. He imagines you’ll laugh in his face, tell him what a great whim this was but you had to get back to your job, turning your back on him as he has done before. He imagines.

But what he gets is your strained, fucked-out little voice, “I missed you, my golden boy.”

A/N. Yes, That Line was inspired by HTTYD. If I had to be hurt, y’all do, too. 

Plagiarism not authorized.

[bi-writes]

I can imagine asking Ghost to take my daughter to the daddy-daughter ball, only not to be able to get rid of him once he brings her home.

"you what?"

you rest your forehead against your locker door, closing your eyes as you tune out the nonchalant voice on the other end of the phone.

he always cancels.

but this?

"y-you can't cancel," you say finally. "you have to go. you can't do this to her, are you fucking kidding me?" you put a hand to your forehead. "you're a fucking asshole. i-i bought her a dress. it's for fathers and daughters, i can't fucking take her. it's all she's been talking about, i can't believe you--!"

you kick your locker shut and take a seat, resting your elbows on your knees. he gives you another excuse, but you just blink away your angry tears.

"no. don't bother. in fact, i don't want to see you again. i don't want her to see you again."

you put the phone down, your hands trembling from how angry you are. you aren't even surprised that he's not calling you back.

he's never wanted her. never.

"sergeant."

the firm sound of your title immediately has you on your feet. you stand up straight, but you relax a little when you see it's just ghost. his head is tilted to the side, and he's watching you carefully from under his mask. you can't see his expression, but his eyes are intense. he's focused on you, very much so.

you wipe the few tears that are under your eyes, and then your phone pinging takes your attention away from him. you pick it up and curse under your breath, opening your locker again to grab your things.

"i'm sorry, lieutenant, i need to go. can i get back to you tomorrow?"

"it's pick-up time, isn't it?"

you freeze from putting your jacket on, eyeing him warily before zipping it up.

"yeah," you say finally. "and i have some bad news to deliver, so while i'd love to stay and chat, i really need to go."

"doesn't hafta be her father," simon shrugs, leaning up against the locker beside yours. "could be anyone."

you glare at him a little, "if you're trying to make some kind of crude joke about the lack of men in our lives, lieutenant, i'd be careful if i were you--"

you stop when he grips your chin tight between his gloved fingers. you blink, unsure of what to do, and he shakes your jaw a little.

"i could take 'er."

you frown up at him, too annoyed to notice how he bends a little more, his face nearly against yours.

"it's not funny, lieutenant."

"not laughin'."

"you..." you meet his eyes, deflating a little. "you...you'd...you'd do that for me?"

ghost merely clicks his tongue before letting you go. when you make your way to your car, he follows, and you try to hide your smile as you make your way home.

ghost exchanges his mask for something more discreet when you aren't looking. a black n95, but his eyes still kill the same. when you come back to the car with a little girl on your hip, she stares wide-eyed at the hunk of man sitting in the passenger seat. he raises a brow at her, saying nothing, and you swallow hard as you buckle her into her seat.

"uhm...this is ghost. can you say hi, honey?"

"ghost? like halloween?"

"like halloween, baby."

as you buckle yourself back in the drivers' seat, you side-eye ghost when you hear the crinkle of a plastic wrapper. when you peek into the rearview to reverse out of the parking lot, you see your daughter with a big smile on her face and a red lolly stuck in her mouth.

"always carrying around sweets, lieutenant?"

he shrugs. "maybe."

she makes him wait in the living room while you get her dress on (she wants a big reveal, coming down the stairs and all). you bought it off of etsy, a custom-made, princess-inspired dress. it has a big skirt of silk and tulle, with a big bow at her back, and when you look at her smile in the mirror, you feel that searing slice of something that makes you want to kill the man that almost ruined her evening.

she gets to do her big reveal. she spins at the top of the stairs to make her big skirt move, and then she's running down the stairs, giggling, laughing, and just as she makes it to ghost, he grabs her under her arms and tosses her into the air. she shrieks with delight when her big dress moves, and you bite your lip watching them. the sight of ghost hiking her up on his hip and commenting on her bow makes your mouth water.

fuck. have his arms always been that big?

they look funny. your daughter looks like the prettiest princess, and ghost looks exactly as he always does--like a SAS lieutenant. he might not have any of his gear on, but the cargo pants, thick boots, and windbreaker don't hide his physique.

"have fun, baby."

you come up next to her, kissing her face, and she clings to your superior, arms tangled around his neck as she waves goodbye. you give ghost the keys to your car, tell him to bring her back by seven, and then you pamper yourself while she's gone.

you drink a few glasses of wine. you take a hot bath. you pick a movie to watch and don't have to make sure the rating is at least PG.

when ghost finally comes back, you're laying on the couch with another glass of wine. pajamas on, blanket over your lap, and you smile when you see her passed out in ghost's arms as he closes the front door behind himself.

"asleep? already?" you giggle. ghost sets your keys down by the door before taking his boots off, and you watch intently as he carries your daughter up the stairs to put her to bed. you follow him, grabbing some of her pajamas from the drawer as he lays her down on the bed. you work together to get her little shoes off and shimmy her out of the dress, and as you get her into her clothes and back under the covers, she barely even moves. she's so tired, yawning and snuggling under her blankets, and you shut the door behind you, leaning against it as you blink up at your lieutenant.

he stares right back down at you. you reach a hand up and trace along the edge of his mask. it's quiet. inappropriate. he won't move away from you, and you won't move either.

you could get used to this. you could get used to watching more adult movies, drinking more wine, having time to fixed your chipped nail polish. you could get used to being bent over your unmade bed and fucked nasty.

you grab onto the crumpled sheets, arching your back more. your knees dig into the mattress as your ass hikes up, and ghost grunts as he uses your hips as an anchor and fucks into you harder. it's been ages since anyone's found your sweet spot, and ghost's cock is nudging it every single time his hips come back to meet yours. his thighs are nearly as fat as his cock, and you feel like your entire body is being rewired as he gives it to you so good, inside and out.

thumb against your clit, balls smacking your pussy, cock splitting you open--you used to think sex was made only for men, but maybe you just never found a real one to show you just how toe-curling it really could be.

if you thought it was good on your tummy, ghost shows you an entirely different feeling on your back.

it's so intimate. no one has ever looked at you this way before. his hands are intertwined with yours, and all you can do is cry and squeeze his hands as he sinks all the way inside of you and barely moves apart. in the dark, he takes his mask off, and you can feel the pant of his hot breaths as he grinds into you deep, slow, purposefully. the stimulation on your clit has your thighs shaking, and when you think the tears are too much, ghost flattens his tongue to lick them off before kissing you wet and languid.

ghost barely pulls out. he just circles his hips, punching back into you, and you see spots behind your eyes when he finally opens his mouth and groans into your ear. something about hearing his voice, hearing him falter, it makes you come. as soon as your cunt squeezes, ghost chokes, gripping your jaw tight and coming deep. you squirm underneath him, arching your back--he fills you up, so much so you can feel it spurting out around his cock and spilling out between your thighs.

you're too tired to protest when he sinks between your thighs after--you have to get clean somehow, right?

when you come into the kitchen in the morning, ghost is at the stove, your daughter on his hip and an egg frying in the pan.

he doesn't leave you when you take him back to work; and he doesn't leave you when you go back home. you should've known better, maybe. it's your own fault. ghosts like to haunt.

and this one is home.

[suksatoru]

sukuna and you got into a fight after you had a near death experience. when you're in need of comfort—he's hostile and enraged. you're hurt tenfold and overcome with sadness after his outburst. going to bed after fighting with sukuna is a war all in itself–but one day, you'll be able to see just how hard he works to be a good lover to you. pairing: sukunaxfem!reader ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

Sukuna is silent as he changes, save for the quiet grunts and sighs that leave his lips every now and then. The dim lamp lit on his side of the bed creates shards of gold that glisten and shine in his eyes, and he regards you quietly as he slips out of his formal robes and into a simple pair of pants.

He could be so mean sometimes. You were never one to take his insults to heart, they were always empty words he muttered out to mask his true feelings. You know Sukuna is bad at communication, you are all he's had and ever will have. There was no one before you, and there will be no one after you. So, Sukuna has to learn to go through all the hard stages that come packaged with a relationship alongside you.

Your back is turned to him as you lay in bed, your body tense and shoved so far towards the edge of the bed, he's sure you'll fall off if you shift even just the slightest bit. You're so desperate to stay away from him, and a small part of Sukuna's chest squeezes painfully at the sight.

He doesn't know how the argument started—you were always so level headed. He could come to you fuming, enraged from his duties and the stress he has to endure everyday—but your fingers raking through the pink tufts of his hair never failed to calm him.

Except today.

Because today—today he was mad at you.

You didn't mean to upset him, those were the words that tumbled from your lips as you weeped into his lap—begging for forgiveness. Your lashes clumped together with glistening tears, and all you wanted was to be comforted by him. But Sukuna scolded you instead, berating and belittling you with the cruelest of words that only made you cry harder by the end of the entire ordeal. He wasn't mad, he was fucking furious.

He told you to stay away from his estate's river whenever it's raining. But you ventured outside anyways, mindlessly and stupidly and almost died. He warned you how strong the currents were, told you how he'd lost so many idiot servants to the river's ruthlessness.

He thought you had died. It was the single, most terrifying moment of his entire life. Because when he pulled you out of the water, you were shaking like a leaf and your pulse was barely there. And when they took you to the medical wing, the doctors were brought to near tears as they tried to keep you alive. Because if you died, if they couldn't bring you back to consciousness safely—then Sukuna would probably kill everyone in a mile radius just from pure rage.

But you're here. Stubborn and alive, arms crossed over your chest as you curl up into a little ball. He slides under the blanket eventually, turning off the lamp as darkness finally envelops his room. The rain still goes on quietly outside, pitter pattering against his window softly.

He presses his lips onto your shoulder blades, pulling your back against his chest and frowning a little once he feels how stiff you are in his grasp. He doesn't want to speak the words—doesn't even want to acknowledge them, but he knows he has to. Or your tear stricken face was sure to haunt him and keep him awake the entire night

His lips are rough against your skin, and you let out a huff—before elbowing him, the King of Curses, in the gut.

He sucks in a hiss from between his teeth, before biting down on your shoulder in retaliation as you yelp

"You bast–"

You're turning around to tell him off, brows scrunched together and lips pulled back in a wobbly scowl, and he takes the opportunity to shut you up when his lips collide with yours

You would have expected the kiss to be rough—angry and hard and mean. But his lips brush yours gently as you pause, before his warm mouth presses softly onto yours

Sorry. He mumbles the word quietly against your lips as he wraps a single arm around your waist, turning you around and over him before securing you on top of his chest with a deep sigh. His irises are lined with a ring of ruby, and you watch him gaze at you through half lidded eyes.

The moonlight barely illuminates his face, but you can see the sheen in his gaze as he peers up at you

Thought I lost you. He murmurs when you suck in a cry, and he rubs your back whispering I know, I know.

Ryomen Sukuna wasn't gentle, no one would describe him as gentle. But the manner he's rubbing your back in has you sinking into his skin as you soak up all the comfort he offered—the one you so desperately craved.

"It was so scary. I-I was just—" And you hiccup on a sob as he coos quietly, curling his large palm around the back of your head as he presses your face into his chest, mumbling sweet nothings into your hair as his hand rubs up and down the slope of your spine

" 'm here now. Rest, you're safe with me. You know that, don't you?" He questions, and you nod, sniffling as your small hands wrap around his neck, legs locking around his waist as you breathe him in.

No, he wasn't the best at managing his emotions. He was quick to anger, and, simply put, the biggest asshole to walk the earth. But he feels. He loves and he hurts and he knows that there is only one person who can accept him and his broken heart as it is—you.

[kateschi]

a language only you speak

synopsis: wife privileges with bakugou katsuki are very much real.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

the agency is bustling with its usual chaos—sidekicks rushing from desk to desk, phones ringing nonstop, and the occasional explosion from the training hall shaking the walls.

in the center of it all, katsuki katsuki sits at his desk, arms crossed, scowling at the stack of paperwork he’s been putting off all morning.

his brows twitch in irritation, but before he can push the papers off his desk and call it quits, the door swings open with a force that makes a few nearby interns jump.

“katsuki!”

your voice slices through the noise, effortlessly commanding attention.

sidekicks freeze mid-step. pro heroes pause in their conversations. even kirishima, who’s used to your entrances by now, watches with barely contained amusement.

the only person who doesn’t seem at all surprised is katsuki himself.

he exhales through his nose, tipping his chair back just enough to get a good look at you as you stomp toward his desk. his scowl softens—just a little.

“the hell are you doing here?”

“you forgot your lunch,” you say, placing a neatly packed bento box in front of him with a pointed glare. “again.”

there’s a beat of silence.

katsuki clicks his tongue, eyes flicking from you to the box. his fingers tap against the desk like he’s debating whether to take it, but the hesitation is brief.

with a grumble, he snatches it up, pulling it toward him like it’s a classified mission briefing.

you cross your arms and watch him open it, waiting for his reaction. it’s all his favorites—seasoned rice, grilled fish, a few side dishes you made just the way he likes.

he doesn’t say thank you, but you know him well enough to recognize the way his eyes linger on the food, the almost imperceptible shift in his posture.

he’s pleased.

you reach over, brushing your fingers against his collar, smoothing out the slightly rumpled fabric.

the agency watches in stunned silence, waiting for the inevitable explosion, but it never comes. katsuki lets you fuss over him without so much as a grunt of complaint.

that’s when kirishima, ever the instigator, speaks up.

“hey, dynamight,” he calls from across the room, arms crossed with a grin. “how come you let her do that, but if I even breathe near you, you tell me to ‘fuck off’?”

kaminari jumps in immediately, pointing an accusatory finger. “yeah! I tried to fix your mask that one time, and you nearly murdered me.”

katsuki pauses mid-bite, eyes flicking up. the office is dead silent, waiting for his response. his expression is unreadable for a moment before he speaks, voice low and deliberate.

“is your name y/n?”

kirishima and kaminari exchange glances. “uh…no?” kirishima ventures.

“are you my wife?”

kaminari snorts. “pretty sure we’d know if we were.”

“then shut the fuck up.”

the office settles into a stunned silence after katsuki’s blunt response, eyes darting between him and you like they’re watching a rare phenomenon unfold.

kirishima leans back slightly, arms crossed, brows raised in something close to admiration. “huh.”

kaminari tilts his head. “so that’s just...how it is?”

katsuki doesn’t answer immediately.

he focuses on his food, chewing deliberately, as if debating whether this conversation is even worth his time. you know he hears them, though.

you can always tell when he’s listening, no matter how much he pretends not to.

kirishima rubs his chin thoughtfully. “that’s so manly, bakubro.”

katsuki scoffs, finally looking up, crimson eyes sharp.

kirishima waves him off, unfazed.

“nah, I mean it. I always thought you just had rules about personal space, but it’s not that. it’s just—you let her do whatever because she’s her.”

a pause.

katsuki clicks his tongue, shoving another bite of rice into his mouth, but his silence says more than words ever could.

you smile, resting a hand on his forearm. “he’s a little soft, but only for me.”

he glares at you. “I’ll kill you.”

“you won’t.”

his jaw ticks. you’ve won this argument before it even begins.

kaminari shakes his head like he’s watching something unfathomable. “man…you’ve got it bad.”

“I don’t ‘got’ anything,” katsuki grumbles, shoving his chopsticks into the rice with unnecessary force. “i just don’t see why you extras are actin’ so damn surprised.”

“you literally detest people touching you,” sero points out.

“yeah, people,” katsuki snaps. “she’s not ‘people.’ she’s my wife.”

and that’s the thing.

to them, it’s unusual. to them, it’s something to gawk at, something to be shocked by. but to katsuki, it’s just natural. it’s not about ‘privileges’ or exceptions—it’s just the way things are.

he’s never even thought to explain it, because there’s nothing to explain.

he doesn’t let anyone mess with his uniform, but you can straighten his collar.

he doesn’t let anyone borrow his things, but you can use his shampoo.

he doesn’t let anyone get too close, but you can curl up beside him and steal his warmth like you belong there.

because you do.

katsuki quirks an eyebrow, setting his chopsticks down. “you done interrogating me now?”

the others exchange glances, like they’re debating whether they’ve gotten enough material to fuel their endless teasing for the next month.

kirishima seems to understand there’s a line he shouldn’t cross—not because katsuki would explode (though, let’s be real, that’s still a possibility), but because this is something real.

kaminari, on the other hand, is kaminari.

“so, like…” he leans on the nearest desk, a slow grin spreading across his face. “if y/n asked you to wear, I dunno, a stupid matching sweater or something, you’d do it?”

katsuki barely spares him a glance. “no.”

kaminari looks at you. “he’s lying, right?”

you tilt your head, pretending to think. “hmm. well, he did wear that ridiculous apron I bought him last week.”

the entire office perks up.

katsuki’s expression darkens. “you said you wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“I said I wouldn’t tell anyone why you wore it.”

and the office rises in roars.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Tag Team (Deadpool/Wolverine)

Description: Wade is distracted during a mission so afterwards all 3 of them fuck in the Honda.

Warning: Smut

Word Count: 1,773k

Request:

IM OBSESSED WITH WADE AND LOGAN AS A TEAM... May I request a smut where both of them fuck fem!Reader?

Idk reader could also be a hero and it happens during a mission, I trust your writing!!!

Wade had been distracted the entire mission. It was to the point that Logan was getting annoyed with him even more than usual. Y/N had no clue what they were fighting about but was also annoyed with both of them. “Can you guys shut the fuck up?” She growled at them. They both stopped arguing and looked at her, “Can you stop being so hot?” Wade asked. She rolled her eyes and put her finger to her mouth to shush him. “Yes mommy.” Logan looked at him with disgust.

Wade was a kinky son of a bitch but Logan never got used to it. They were trying to kill bad guys but Wade was about to ruin it. Y/N had been so into the mission she had failed to see both of them checking her out. She did have blood all over her but what was new? Wade and Logan both had it bad for the girl but Y/N was oblivious. Before Wade could say anything else the bad guys appeared and they had to kill.

Y/N shot at them, never missing. Logan clawed them up and managed to get more blood on them than before. Wade? Well he was still distracted and barely did anything, “WHAT THE FUCK, WADE?” Y/N yelled at him. She pulled him right out of his dirty thoughts. “Y/N and I just did all the work.” Logan added. “Well my bad that I can’t stop thinking about taking you both to a whole new world of pleasure.” Y/N stared at him with a blank look.

She was really tired of him acting like this, especially on a mission. “Well next time don’t come.” She said and walked away from him. Logan followed but not before growling at him. “Oh come on! You guys act like this isn’t hot as fuck.” He whined, catching up to them. “What’s hot about killing people, Wade?” “EVERYTHING!!” Y/N sighed and stopped walking. “Wade, I’m very flattered but now is not the time.” She said to him. “Wait so there’s a time?” He asked. She sighed and started walking again. 

The Honda Odyssey was the only “bed” that they had which sucked ass but it had to work. They all reeked of blood and guts but Wade couldn’t stop thinking about fucking Y/N in it. “So about earlier, is now the time?” He asked. Logan rolled his eyes and Y/N sighed. She sat up in the backseat and stared at him.

He was still wearing his mask and Logan took his off. “Wade, don’t you wanna fuck in a bed?” She asked, looking around the car. “Honey, I would fuck you in a volcano.” Yeah cuz that was a turn on. She looked at Logan, “What about you?” She asked him. He opened his eyes to look at her, “I wouldn’t fuck you in a volcano but this is all we have.” She laughed at his words and put her weapons on the floor.

“Alright guys. Let’s have some fun.” Wade was out of the car and to the backseat before she could finish her sentence. Logan got on the other side of her and she looked between them, “I’m not sure how this will wo-” Both of them attached their mouths to her neck. She gasped at the sudden action of them and she never noticed that Wade lifted his mask. Their lips moved sloppily on her neck, leaving marks. She gripped both of their necks and pulled them closer. They both placed a hand on her upper thigh and she leaned back against the seat, taking them with her.

Her eyes were closed as they marked her neck until she had purple spots. Logan moved down to her cleavage and Wade’s hand brushed against her pussy. She gasped at the feeling of both of them. Logan kissed and sucked the top of boob while Wade managed to get his fingers in her body suit to her bare pussy, “Holy shit.” She breathed out and he chuckled. “Ya like that princess?” Wade asked as his fingers rubbed her clit.

She was soaked and had been for a few hours now. Logan moved from her tit to the floor and spread her legs. “Move your fingers you Merc.” Logan said to Wade. Wade whined but did anyway so Logan could feast on her pussy. “Take this off.” He demanded her. She undid her body suit and Logan helped her get it off until she was fully naked in nothing but gloves and her boots. Logan chuckled as he looked at her wet pussy.

He sniffed her and sighed, “Fuck darling you smell delicious.” He told her and licked up her clit. She threw her head back and moaned. Wade watched as Logan ate her out and got even harder. He looked at Y/N who had her eyes closed and her breathing was harder. He leaned back too and turned her head towards him and kissed her. She weakly kissed back and moaned into his mouth. Logan was eating her out like an animal eating its first meal.

It was everything. Her hands gripped his hair making him moan into her pussy. The vibration made her whine and Wade stuck his tongue in her mouth. She let his tongue explore her mouth and Logan’s explored her pussy. Her hips bucked into his mouth and she shuddered at how close she was, “I’m gonna cum!” She whined into the kiss. “Cum on his beautiful face.” Wade told her and that did it. She fucked her hips up into his face and came all over. Wade praised her as she rode her sweet orgasm.

Logan flattened his tongue as she did all the work until the pleasure was gone. He pulled away from her pussy and smirked at her. She loved the sight of him covered in her cum. Wade did as well, “Damn wish that was me.” Logan got back onto the seat next to her and kissed her, giving her a taste. She moaned into his mouth. “Fuck that’s so hot.” Wade said. Y/N pulled away from the kiss and moved to kiss Wade giving him a taste as well. While they were kissing she took his mask off and threw it on the ground. Wade was never insecure around them.

They made him feel loved. She broke the kiss and moved in between his legs. He looked down in shock as she pulled out his dick. “Kiss.” She told them and without protest they did. She smirked as she watched for a second before running her pretty fingers over Wade’s cock. He gasped into the kiss. She wrapped her hand around him and jerked him off a few times before taking him into her mouth. Her mouth was the best thing to fuck.

It was wet and warm and felt so good. She placed her hands on his thighs and gave him the best blow job of his life. Wade was the loudest one out of the three of them. He fucked up into her mouth as the car rocked. The windows steamed up as they kissed and she gave him the best blow job ever. “Fuck. Your mouth is amazing, baby.” He moaned.

Logan watched as his dick went in and out of her mouth. Sure her mouth was good but her pussy was even better. Logan and Wade stopped kissing once Wade got really close. He threw his head back and cried out as he came in her throat. She pulled off of him and pulled Logan down for a kiss. She let Wade’s cum travel into Logan’s mouth and he swallowed. Wade gasped as he had never seen anything like that before.

Y/N smirked at him and got back in between them. “So I want all or nothing. You both have to be inside of me at the same time.” She says and they both nod before getting naked. She got on the center console of the car and they both managed to get their dicks in her at the same time. Their car was small but it managed to work. Y/N gasped at both of them penetrating her at the same time. Logan tried to let her adjust to the size but Wade didn’t care and started thrusting.

Her moans were loud inside the car and it felt very hot. Her jaw was dropped and her bloody hair was wet with sweat as well. Wade laid his head on the head of the carseat and groaned out. Logan who had more stanamia than both of them was fucking her fast and hard. Wade tried to keep up but it felt better this way.

“Shit you both are so fucking good.” She whined as one dick would hit her spot and then the other would right after. “You’re one to talk princess, your pussy is so perfect.” Wade groaned. Her moans turned to screams as she started thrusting back on them. The perfect rhythm began and all 3 of them were making loud noises. The heat of the car made things more intense.

Logan’s hand that was gripping one side of her hip was squeezing to the point of bruises. Y/N wished more than anything that she could see how fucked out they both looked but that was the con with doggy style. Especially in a small car. Wade groaned as he felt her pussy squeeze them, “Fuck princess, I’m about to cum.” He announced.

Y/N smirked before moaning as she squeezed them tighter cuz a loud moan to release from Logan. He barely moaned but when he did it was amazing and hot. “Fuck sweetheart, If you do that again I’m gonna cum too.” “That’s the plan.” She whimpered and squeezed them. “Where do ya want it, pretty girl?” “Inside of me. Both of you.” She cried as she too felt closer to the edge.

Wade groaned loudly as he came hard inside of her pretty pussy. Logan was a few seconds later and stilled behind her as he came. Y/N helped them ride it out as she came next screaming their names. The car smelled of sweat and sex as they both pulled out of her. Wade collapsed back against the seat and sighed, “Man I do love a good tag team after a crazy mission.” He said. Logan glared at him, “You didn’t even help.” Y/N turned around to look at the two. “Boys don’t start.” She warned and got in the middle of them. “Maybe if you guys are good we can go for round 2.” She smirked and brought them both in for a kiss.

[nezuscribe]

gojo is used to strange people with strange requests. he gets paid for doing people’s dirty work, things they’d never do themselves, so this is pretty standard in his line of work.

he had to survive somehow, and if becoming the bidder of bad tidings was what made him coin, then he wasn’t one to complain.

another thing that gojo had gotten especially good at is knowing when somebody is looking for him. it’s usually scurried glances and sweaty palms that give them away. which is why now, as he’s resting an ale in hand at the back of the tavern, does he feel this sense go off.

he sits alone, not looking up from his drink as he feels a set of eyes on him. tonight was his night of rest, his horse was sleeping outside, and he had booked a room just for himself. he didn’t care what they gave him. he was checked out for the night.

the room is crowded, with loud and boisterous laughter filling any gaps of silence. people are taking and shouting, but it doesn’t mask the set of footsteps getting near to where he was trying to hide away from everybody else.

gojo keeps his head down, his nose wrinkling in annoyance when timid hands set a pouch in front of him. filled to the brim with gold, most likely.

“i need your help,” a voice, frightful and cracking, says.

gojo rolls his eyes. this isn’t the first time a girl has run away from his rich family and begs him for a chance away. but he’s done that too many times, gone through too much. he’d rather just kill the parents. he takes a sip of his drink, resting his back on the wall.

he knows how this usually goes. a girl wants to run away, she finds him, they end up running away, only for the girl to feel guilty and beg him to take her back home. either that or she has no plan in mind and forces him on an endless chase to somewhere she doesn’t even know.

judging by the tone of your voice, he’s betting you’re a mix of both right now.

“i’m not offering any help right now,” he says, twisting a ring back and forth on his fingers, one he had stollen a while ago.

“i have more gold,” you beg, “i need your help… please. i heard you’re the only person who’s made it through the north alive.”

gojo glances up at you briefly, taking in your bruised and cut face, most likely from running away, at your eyes filled with tears, and at the way your lips trembled.

his eyes flit away momentarily, not expecting you to take him by surprise. you look more roughed up than the other girls he’s seen so far, a certain heaviness in your stare.

“no.” he says bluntly and your gaze seems to waver just slightly. you gnaw on your lips, wondering how you could change your speech to change his mind.

“my father wants me to marry this man. he’s,” you shudder a little bit at the thought, “inhuman. if i don’t get away soon his men will find me. i,” your breathing shudders, “i can’t let them find me.”

gojo sighs deeply though his nose. so much for a relaxful evening.

his eyes search yours again, and he feels a different urgency that he’s never felt before. something that tells him that this is different, that if he doesn’t help you it’s going to be more than a simple punishment of your father taking away your allowance.

“where’s the rest of your gold?” he looks to your empty hands and then back up to your face.

you sputter, looking at him in shock.

“i-in my satchel,” you swallow thickly, “i left it near your horse.”

his mouth almost quirked upwards.

“where do you want to go?” he asks, watching as your posture straightens up a bit.

“to the shore,” you say, “i’ll get the soonest ship out.”

gojo stares at you and you stare at him. he surveys the pouch of gold, knowing it’s more than he’s ever made in months, something he desperately needs.

he rubs a hand across his face, squeezing his eyes shut as he thinks.

“when do you need to leave?” he asks although gojo already mows the wretched answer.

you look bashful as you duck your head down.

“n-now, if possible.”

gojo stares at your pouch a little bit longer. he downs the rest of his drink as he stands up, eyes raking over your features. if it weren’t for time and place he might’ve asked you to accompany him back to his room.

you stare back at him silently and he quirks his silver brow.

“what?” he grumbles, “get your things. we’re leaving.” a small smile breaks its way into your face as you collect your measly bag and your satchel of gold.

gojo knows he shouldn’t have said yes the moment he saw you grin, knowing that you weren’t an ordinary girl and this wasn’t an ordinary request. but he didn’t find it in himself to care.

at least for now, he didn’t.

[murderofravens]

fly me to the moon

pairing: hwang inho/young-il/frontman x fem reader

part: 3/3 [finished]

warnings: age gap (reader is 20, he's in his late 40s) angst, slight masochism, made him very fatherly again, mutual obsession, badly written smut, conflicting feelings, she's kinda crazy about him, brat reader, brat tamer inho, unhealthy dynamics, slight infantilization

summary: you're desperate to piss him off. it doesn't end well.

word count: 4.2k

FULL SERIES MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

the ankle monitor attached to your leg itches.

you grunt in irritation as you use a spoon to scratch the area. it barely helps— you know the itching is more mental than it is physical. the mere presence of it bothers you. but at the same time, you're relieved. you were given two options— either that, or still having your hand chained to the bed with those insufferable straps. you chose the former. atleast it allows you to walk freely.

you're still not used to this lifestyle. honestly speaking, you've lost track of how long it's been. you mainly tried to count the days based upon the games, but inho doesn't allow you to witness the brutality of the newer games he's designed. he never even mentions them— pretends like it was all a dream and that everything between the two of you is okay. you pretend you don't almost piss yourself whenever his voice switches mid conversation— or when he puts on that mask and grabs his gun before leaving.

while it irritates you, a part of you is almost grateful. atleast this way, you can pretend you don't know exactly how sadistic he can be.

you almost snort at your thinking. you feel pathetic— but then again, do you have a choice?

he's given you free reign of his lavish penthouse— conveniently keeping any and all electronics or sharp objects away from you. which, you need to clap him on the back for. because the first thing you did when you were left alone and uncuffed was look for anything that you could use to hurt yourself— to touch an empathetic nerve in inho. your confidence in thinking of doing so was because he's made it clear how much the idea of losing you scared him. you tried to joke with him the other day— something about him coming back to find you bleeding out on the floor, and he got so furious that he threw his bottle of whiskey against the wall and then gave you an earful about making distasteful jokes. you almost considered running over and grabbing a glass shard and killing yourself in front of him to truly traumatize him like he did with you; but then the thought of your family and your dignity stops you.

you will not kill yourself over a man.

you've thought of many jokes since then, but never dared mention them in his presence.

currently, you were frolicking around— eyeing the massive screen on which he apparently watches the games. you'd insisted upon it once— and he'd pulled you into his lap and allowed you a single glimpse before hiding your face in the crook of his neck and patting your back till you fell asleep to the sound of 'fly me to the moon.'

your eyes narrow. you look around, desperate to find something. there's an itch within you that you need to scratch—it's different than your ankle. it's the itch to be insufferable, to take a sweet little revenge against your old man; to frustrate him and ruin his day like he ruined your life. you can only hope that if you succeed in doing so, he won't kill your entire family in a fit of rage. you've been forcing your heart to believe he's only bluffing, even though you know he isn't.

your eyes fall upon the side table placed by the couch. you look at it, then at the screen. then back at it. with a newfound vigour, you rush forward and pull out the drawer— it's empty except for a few files. you toss them out and hold the drawer in both hands, before looking back at the screen with the most devilish glint in your eyes.

you let out a victorious roar before lunging— using all the strength you can muster and then thrashing the drawer against the screen.

it doesn't budge. the blow has you stumbling over your steps, and the drawer falls upon your feet. you let out a cry, tears of frustration appearing in your eyes. you scream and pick up the drawer again, and then thrash it against the screen over and over— till your hands hurt and sweat builds across your skin.

the screen remains spotless.

amidst your one sided battle, you fail to hear the sound of the door opening.

"it's shatterproof." a heavy voice announces, distorted through the mask.

panting, you drop the drawer and shoot him the meanest glare you can muster with mascara running down your cheeks. he cocks his head to the side— the barrier of the mask between you two making you feel uneasy.

"are you done acting like a child?"

you release a heavy, shaky breath as you stare at him. you want to jump at him, tear that mask off and slam his head against the wall. you want to kiss him and beg him to spare you and your family. your heart races with adrenaline— and your skin feels hot. acting like a child, he says. he's treated you like a child forever. what's so wrong in acting like one?

you slick your hair back, eyes darting around the room— examining everything you can see, till an idea pops in your head.

against your better judgement, you pick up the drawer again. slowly, like a predator, you walk to the side, your gaze never leaving his figure. you stand before his music box— the one with the pretty jazz band that plays 'fly me to the moon,' whenever he watches the games. you've heard it quite a few times since you got here, and you have buried your head in the pillows a few times to avoid hearing it.

you used to adore frank sinatra, but now you can only associate his lyrics with impending doom.

you wish he wasn't wearing that mask, because you would've loved to see his reaction when you ruined something he visibly finds comfort in. you would've felt bad, if he hadn't done the same to you. if he hadn't taken your young-il from you.

you raise the drawer, and then bring it down fiercely. it almost happens in slow motion— how the music box shatters into pieces, and the tiny dolls fall to the floor.

you pant as you drop the drawer then, and wipe the sweat off your forehead. suddenly feeling brave, you shoot him the most smug smile you can muster in your breathless haze.

the silence that follows is suffocating. you blink at him, shoulders rising and falling with your heavy breaths — while he stands there patiently with his hands clasped behind his back.

"are you gonna keep standing there, watching me?" you ask, quirking an eyebrow.

you resist the urge to step back as he advances towards you ever so slowly. he looks at his broken music box, then redirects his blank, masked face back at you.

you egged him on, "aren't you gonna say something?"

"was this supposed to anger me?" he asks. you can detect a hint of amusement in his voice, "a man in my position doesn't have materialistic attachments."

you scoff, vision almost turning red with rage at his tone.

"i think i can afford another music box," he adds dryly, cocking his head to the side, "but what do i do about your manners?"

your eyes narrow with agitation— you were so desperate to piss him off, to evoke an actual reaction out of him; but he isn't giving you one. it frustrates you. before you can do anything, his foot pops out, hits your leg in just the right place to make you shriek and drop to your knees immediately— till the shattered pieces of the box dig into your skin painfully— wood and glass.

"fuck!" you wince, letting out another pained groan. he watches you blankly, and in this moment you wish that mask would just disappear. it makes him look more like a stranger than he already is. you want to see his reaction, even if it is at the expense of your pain. "you— ow! you asshole—"

"language." he chides, bending down slightly so he can grab your hair and yank your head up. you squirm around, trying to get up but he holds you in place, "why must you keep acting like a child—"

"why, i thought i was a child!" you snap back at him angrily, recalling his words from when he refused to send you back into the games. you're furious, "why shouldn't i act like one if you keep treating me that way!"

"do you not want me to?" he asks, giving you a humourless chuckle, "you want me to treat you like the adult you are, huh, darling? i'll treat you like an adult."

you grumble in confusion and he gives your head a little push as he lets go of your hair and straightens up. his hand comes down to shift his robe to the side so he can have access to his dress pants. he pulls it down slightly along with his boxers, revealing how hard he's been by your little show of defiance. your eyes widen and you almost choke on your spit as he grabs your head again, his free hand guiding his cock to your eager mouth, "fuck— is this what you wanted?" he groans, throwing his head back slightly as you wrap your lips around him with the enthusiasm of a slut. he's so unbelievably thick— and all your knowledge for sucking dick comes from porn, so you try your best— forgetting almost every vengeful thought as the skin of his neck is exposed to your vision.

you have never wanted a man this badly.

small cuts on the skin of your knees open up because of the damage you caused, but you can't bring yourself to think about it— not when you lick a long, wet stripe on the underside of his cock, before placing a teasing kiss upon his tip. he looks down at you again, his gloved hand digging into your hair, guiding your head up and down as you try to take him fully into your mouth. your hands come up in an attempt to hold what your mouth can't, but he slaps them away, "put those behind your back."

this time, you obey. your eyes water as he immediately pushes himself to the hilt till your nose presses against the coarse hair at his pubic bone— and only then you know that you are truly gone, because you moan at the smell of him. he lets out a soft grunt again when he pulls your head back, before thrusting in and out of your mouth gently. your hands stay clasped behind your back as he uses your mouth, his balls slapping against your chin as your watery eyes look up at him. you wish you could see him— you want to see his face, you want to see what he looks like when he cums in your mouth for the first time.

you whimper, pulling your head back slightly. he allows you, and you lean down to press a needy kiss to his balls before licking up his cock again. your voice is hoarse when you speak, "let me see your face."

he looks at you for a bit— the stoic face of the mask making you feel more and more isolated— like you're pleasuring someone else. and perhaps, you are, in a way. this isn't your young-il anymore.

"after that little stunt," he answers quietly, voice grim, "you don't deserve it."

you almost whine as he grabs your head again and forces his cock back down your throat— and then you realize what this is. what you thought started as some sort of reward is actually a punishment. you whimper as you gag around him, choking with each sharp thrust as his movements begin to get harsher. tears run down your face as you glare at him, and in retaliation you bring your hand up and grab his thigh. he hisses at being disobeyed, pulls your head forward till you nose is quite literally pressed against his stomach. "hands. behind your back."

despite struggling to breathe, you shake your head as best as you can given the situation. you can't see his face, but you can tell the exact expression he must be making. the one where his eyes get all intense, and his lips start quivering with rage, as if he wants to explode.

you moan slightly and take the opportunity to pull your head back. and then get back to sucking his cock— your tongue rolling deliciously across his shaft as you cup his balls. it almost makes him stumble with shock— the sudden pleasure he feels, judging by the throaty moan that escapes him. motivated by his newfound weakness, you jerk him off while mouthing at the soft skin of his balls, and he almost bends down as he lets out a raspy groan, "fuck! that feels— fuck!"

"language," you tease slightly, voice raspy. you enthusiastically indulge him, your brain suddenly consisting of him, and only him. his voice. his face. his moans. the way his eyes crinkle. you switch from sucking his balls to kissing his tip and jerking him off.

as if to reward you, he suddenly pulls his mask off, one hand of his going up to hold onto the wall for support. he squeezes his eyes shut, and the mere sight of his face has you crumbling— you let out a soft moan as you take him down your throat again. one of your hands slips into your panties, and you start rubbing your clit with vigour as he fucks your throat.

"you little fucking brat—" he grunts, thrusting shallowly in and out of your mouth, the vein in his neck popping and a few strands of his styled hair falling beautifully down his forehead. he's hot when he swears, you think— starry eyed as you look at him. you've never seen a more angelic sight. as you gurgle around his cock, he holds your head down again and throws his head back, cumming with a loud gasp. you cum with a choked moan of your own, your hand shaking as you rub circles into your clit, overstimulating yourself.

you choke as you feel him spill down your throat, and he pants heavily as he slowly pulls himself back, before quickly tucking himself into his pants. you swallow it and cough slightly, covering your mouth with the back of your hand as you wince a little— it leaves a bitter and sticky aftertaste, but nothing too bad. you're sure you'll get used to it. he grabs your wrist and bends down to stick your wet fingers in his mouth, licking your slick off. his tongue rolls around the digits and you moan, eyes dazed as he ensures your entire palm is clean, before pulling back while smacking his lips and humming in appreciation like you were the most prized delicacy in the world.

as if nothing happened, he swiftly picks you up like you're a mere doll— carrying you bridal style to the bathroom. your hair— damp with sweat, sticks to your skin, and your eyes are bloodshot.

and though you can remember your original intention being wanting to take revenge, this somehow felt much more better.

perhaps, you really are too far gone.

you look off into space thoughtfully as he settles you on the bathroom counter. his face is uncovered but guarded— he takes his gloves off, grabs a towel and wets it with water before tending to you. with utmost gentleness, he pulls your bottoms down and tosses them in the basket, before analyzing your wounds.

your panties are so wet it's almost shameful. you got that horny just by sucking his cock. he glances at your face, and you look away sheepishly. the smell of you makes his head spin, but he needs to concentrate on something else. you clear your throat and redirect your attention to his face.

you stare at him while he stares at your knees. he gently wipes the blood off, ensuring no remaining pieces of the music box stick to your skin. he disinfects your wounds and it makes you hiss— he almost winces at the sound, but you're not sure.

you don't understand why he's doing this. how can he hurt you and tend to your wounds at the same time? but then again, how can you hate him and let him do this to you at the same time too?

perhaps, you both are confused. you need someone to rely on, and he needs someone to need him. but neither of you know how to deal with the complications that come with your unconventional relationship, so you pretend it's normal. it's okay.

you look at him but he doesn't meet your gaze. you wish you could go back in time, or travel to another dimension. meet him under different circumstances. perhaps, that relationship would've been healthy. you clear your throat, and change the subject.

"you know, back in the hall," it hurts a little to talk, but you want to hear his voice, and you're desperate to talk about something. anything to end this silence. "before i was leaving to come to you, the old lady said something funny."

he stiffens at the mention of her, and you pretend not to notice. he doesn't glance at you as he cleans your knees, before placing a comforting palm on your thigh. he hums in question, gaze lowered.

"she called you my father," you chuckle slightly, your voice suddenly getting shaky, "isn't that funny? such a funny thing to assume."

he tenses at your words and clenches his jaw. his thumb rubs circles onto the skin of your thigh, before he lets out a small chuckle of his own— it sounds dry. he finally looks up at you— and you almost see a glimpse of your young-il in his eyes. you think he looks upset. you wonder if you offended him, and you consider apologizing, but he interrupts your train of thought.

"really?" he asks quietly, giving you a small smile. it's odd, engaging in casual conversation with him after the little fight you two just had. "well, with how many times i looked after you—"

"—you might as well be," you finish his sentence with a roll of your eyes, "yeah, i know."

he gives a soft, hearty laugh then, tapping your knee. "yeah." he trails off, voice getting quieter. distant. "might as well be."

his mind drifts off. if he hadn't been so late, his kid would've been around your age. perhaps, that's why he immediately grew protective of you during the games. perhaps, it was fate.

your gaze softens, face falling slightly. he looks distant again— like he's fighting a war within himself. you swallow the lump in your throat.

"i saw you that way at first, you know." you said quietly, blinking down at your lap. "you made me feel safe." and now all i feel is fear around you.

he looks at you wordlessly, gaze unreadable. he's thinking— reading you, but you can't do the same with him. he has way more experience at hiding his thoughts and expressions than you do. he's spent decades confined within these walls with people in masks being his only companions— he learned how to wear one himself. permanently. he wants to tell you that you're an open book to him— since the start.

"do i not anymore?" he questions instead, cocking his head to side. you roll your eyes, shoulders slumping as you shoot him an impassive glare.

"seriously?" you ask, voice obvious. it makes him smirk slightly, and he clenches his jaw to hide it.

he cups your face, pulls it up as he looks into your eyes. you don't say a word, simply glaring at him as he places a kiss upon your forehead.

"let me tell you," he quirks an eyebrow— a hint of a smile on his face as he squishes your cheeks, "no kid of mine would be a brat."

you scoff, pushing his hands off as you look away from him. he looks unbothered as he grabs you and puts you back down on the floor.

"i can do that myself, thanks." you huff, straightening your shoulders as you brush past him.

he grabs your hand, pulls you back towards him till you collide into his chest. he cups the side of your face, gently leaning down to rub your noses together. it almost leaves you breathless with how flustered you feel.

"would you rather i give you the silent treatment again?" his voice is unabashedly soft as he speaks. "you didn't like that last time."

your breath hitches, and your heart begins to race again. you clench your jaw before closing your eyes, releasing a shaky breath. you remember collapsing in his arms and crying your heart out when he gave you the silent treatment— being ignored by him hurt and made you feel alone in a way you hadn't felt in years.

you shake your head no.

he smiles. it's almost sinister. his eyes are still crinkly and he would look so utterly adorable to you before— but now, you know his intentions. you can tell when he's smiling only because he's hiding a different approach.

"then you'll behave, won't you?" he whispers, placing a soft kiss upon your lips. you blink rapidly before nodding again.

"good," he says quietly, softly tapping your cheek before letting go and composing himself. "i'll clean that mess up. go back to bed and take a nap, you must be tired after that little show."

you grit your teeth before shooting him a glare, and he merely blinks at you, amused, before you rush back to the bedroom.

he follows not long after, wearing only a black undershirt and his pants. you stare at him as he gently places a tray on your bedside table. you sit up, looking at it curiously. it's a cup of tea.

"for your throat," he explains softly with a pat to your head. the gesture makes your heart feel warm— and once again you start wishing you had met him under different circumstances where he didn't practically kidnap you. that way, your guilty conscience wouldn't berate you for desiring him so much, for being so comfortable around him.

he stands by his own side of the bed, fiddling with his wristwatch. you sit up properly and blow on the tea before drinking it, humming in appreciation. it's your favourite beverage.

he gets into bed soon enough, sighing to himself. you place the empty cup on the table and look off to the side, not wanting to meet his gaze, no matter how good he looks.

he says your name softly and you melt.

you look at him and he tenderly caresses your face with the back of his hand. you wish you could read his thoughts.

you swallow your pride and say what you've been thinking.

"why did you never apologize to me?"

his gaze hardens slightly and his hand pauses. you swallow hard as you await his answer.

"because i'm not sorry," he says calmly, "I don't regret anything i did."

you clench your jaw, "not even hurting me or my feelings?"

he chuckles a little— amused at your naivety, "I don't regret doing anything that brought you to me."

you blink at him before looking away. he forces you to meet his gaze by grabbing your chin.

"i don't regret anything," he repeats lowly, eyes intense. "as long as i get to have you."

"you hurt me." you whisper, voice cracking.

"i know." he nods, "you'll get over it. you're my brave girl, aren't you?"

you grit your teeth so hard you fear your jaw might snap. you glare at him, while he looks at you indifferently. wordlessly, he opens his arms and welcomes you into the comforting little space he created. you consider running off, defying him, breaking the tea cup and using the glass to threaten him or just killing yourself— anything.

bur you don't. like always, you succumb to him, and give up control. you eagerly crawl into his side and he holds your head against his chest. he pulls the sheets over the two of you and pecks your forehead.

"still don't feel safe?" he asks, almost teasingly. you can't believe he keeps trying to joke with you— he's cruel. you scoff, giving him a weak shove and he grabs your wrist and holds your palm against his chest. you can feel his heart beating. you wonder if yours beats this loud too.

you get comfortable a few moments after, and force yourself not to think about your life before the games. before him. you wonder if your family is happy, if they're wondering where you are. you wonder if your mother thinks you're dead, you wonder if she still prays for you. even if your family thinks you're dead, you hope they find happiness and move on from the thought of you. you hope they live a life of ease.

the thoughts make you sniffle and you hold back the urge to cry, burying your head further into his chest. he hums softly, patting your head almost paternally till you fall asleep, and only when he is completely sure that you're out of it, that he allows himself to close his eyes too.

and the next day, the cycle repeats.

A/N: another song title because i have no creativity... anyway this was meant to be a blurb but i ended up writing a glimpse into their relationship because i love them so much. and well.. the smut is mid but i hope you guys enjoyed it. thank you for reading and thank you for the support!! i love all of you.

tags: @bonelessghoul @cowuies @auspicious-lilana @politicstanner @verouys @gloriousjellyfisharcade @carolinevoight @shadowmoonlight0604 @ancrygurl @sunoon @jessgentleman @colorwastaken @loversroq @clown-around-and-find-out @popcorm @xcinnamonmalfoyx @robertthehoover @iloveoldermen0204 @kpopsmutty69 @iamkali @thebluehair23