#If there are not already problems he will create them

[nemisuki]

Intertwined

Dating AU | He wasn’t aware such a small insecurity could affect your relationship that much. Lucky for him, she seems to know how to ease his worries away. 

᧔o᧓ || katsuki bakugo x f!reader, she/her pronouns, no manga spoilers, pure fluff, no smut, no angst, reverse comfort lowkey, aged up to third years, they're both whipped, two idiots in love, wholesome short oneshot, 821 word count

His brows furrow with frustration at the glistening skin - small droplets of sweat already beginning to form at the surface of his palms.

Bakugos mood immediately getting ruined at the sight of it.

He takes pride in many things in his life, one of them being his quirk, the ability to create explosions from mere sweat is truly an odd but valuable power.

One that needed proper training to get used too and eventually perfected. But there was always one problem that remained and perhaps is unavoidable.

Excessive sweating.

At first it was manageable, he simply wiped it away on his pants, not thinking much of it.

Though as time went on, it grew out of control. Perhaps it was a side effect of puberty now that their seniors in highschool, who knows?

What he did know was that it was beyond irritating.

Maybe this was his karma for being too cocky in the past. He assumed his quirk had no downsides he couldn't manage, but the gods just had to humble him.

For an over hygienic guy - this was probably his worst nightmare come true.

Especially now that he has a girlfriend.

"Cmon Katsuki, we gotta return to the dorms before curfew!"

She quickly grabs a hold of his hand, cheerful expression on her face, a bright smile that could battle the sun.

Oblivious to the swirling thoughts in his head.

Dating was a concept he never thought he would experience - til he met Y/N. As a new couple he didn't expect this personal issue to have such an effect on his relationship.

But here we are.

He flinches at her touch, swiftly extracting his hand from hers, simply praying she didn't notice his clammy hands.

Her face instantly falls, switching to one of worry and hesitation, "Katsuki? Hey what's wrong?"

The blonde didn't know what else to do but stay silent, avoiding eye contact with her as he tried to think of something to say, subtly wiping his hands on his school uniform.

Feeling embarrassed to tell her about this 'problem' he's been recently dealing with.

"It's nothing."

Noticing the clear shift in his demeanor, she tries connecting the dots and gives him an apologetic look, "I'm sorry if you were uncomfortable with holding hands! I should've asked first since you hate PDA." 

His head snaps back at her, realizing the careless mistake he just made, "No no that's not what I- uh"

He sighs as irritation begins bubbling inside him, directed at himself for making her worried over something so trivial.

"It's not that dummy. My hands are..." he looks away once again. Feeling self conscious all of a sudden - opening up has never been an easy thing for him.

She notices the tip of his ears burning with a pink hue, rare shyness creeping in his voice, "My hands get sweaty a lot because of my quirk."

A moment of silence passes between them.

"It's been out of control lately so-"

His words waver as he feels her pinky finger slowly wrap around his own. Her eyes soften as she stares up at him, a look of understanding on her face.

"Ah I see. Then this is fine right?" she smiles, tilting her head to get a better view of his face.

 ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ 

"...Yeah sure, whatever" he clears his throat, avoiding her gaze completely.

She giggles at his cute demeanor, not used to seeing him like this, just thinking how soft this blonde truly is under all the walls he put over his heart.

He doesn't say much as they continue their walk back towards campus. His heart doing somersaults in his chest at the contact.

"It doesn't bother me by the way" she mumbles, smiling up at him again, "I just want to be next to you."

"You're such a sap."

He pinches her puffy cheek with his other hand - making her whine in response, trying to distract the effect her words have on him.

A small laugh escapes him as he mushes her face to form pouty duck lips, rolling his eyes at her unintelligible words of plead.

"So fucking dramatic." 

Whether to shush her up or satisfy his own desires, he quickly leans down and presses a small peck to her puckered lips. Letting her face go a second after, making the poor girl flustered and silent with shock.

"What was that for?" she says, fidgeting with her sleeves like a love struck fool.

"Tch, can I not kiss my own girlfriend?"

He spins around to walk away - making her rush to catch up, a knowing look on her face.

"I know but in public? Katsuki you sly dog~" she cooes, trying to rile him up.

"Fuck off."

"Love you too!"

At her continuous laughter and teasing, all he could do was put a fake frown on his face, but only from her eyes - she could see the small smile underneath it all.

✦ ⎯⎯⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨ masterlist || taglist || intro || socials ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⎯⎯ ✦

a/n ||| im really sorry for not posting much u guys! i kinda lost motivation these past couple of weeks but im finally feeling better. i actually relate to this so much bc i sadly suffer from hyperhidrosis. If you don't know what hyperhidrosis is, it's "a medical condition in which a person exhibits excessive sweating". So im basically bakugo irl u guys! one side effect is that my hands are constantly clammy and it's so annoying, me and katsuki twinning fr. my apologies go out to fellow people like us, this condition sucks so bad *sighssssss* tags ||| @leleyro @zaiban2989 ໒꒰ྀི ´๑  ̫๑`  ꒱ྀིა

[angelikook]

Download Error | Act Two

⤿ Pairing(s): Scientist!Jungkook x reader

⤿ Genre: Fluff, angst, suggestive, dark, thriller, sci-fi, medical, yandere-ish behavior

⤿ Word Count: 6.1k (unedited)

⤿ Warning(s): Jungkook is unhinged, major character death, minor character death, cannibalism, murder, drug abuse, and a whole lot of other disturbing things

⤿ Summary: After 50 years of research, Jungkook, an 80 years old scientist, figures out how to upload minds and download them to a new body. This technology is so early in development, failing means potentially creating a monster, and failure is common. But when he’s backed into a wall where he’s about to lose Y/n -his wife- due to a disease, he takes some drastic measures. He’ll do anything for love even if it means creating a monster with the face of 25 years old Y/n.

Full Masterlist | Download Error Masterlist | Join/Leave Taglist

Part 11: The Error

So many things happened all at once. The initial transfer process ran smoothly without issues, but the minute the computer had to download Y/n's mind to her new body, they ran into an error. And since then, the machines had been beeping non-stop. The computers all flashed a message error. And Jinho can only yell Jungkook’s name while doing what he could think of at the moment.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen, Prof.” Jinho was busy typing furiously at the computer. "This didn't happen during your transfer."

Jungkook rushed to where Jinho was and shoved him off his seat. "Fucking move. I'll do it myself, you incompetent bastard." Jungkook read over the message on the monitor and clicked whatever buttons he could reach with his mouse.

"I've fixed the program, there's literally no fucking reason for it to run an error," Jungkook vented while still focusing on the error messages. He closed all the messages with the hope that it could finally resolve whatever problem the machine had. His heart sank and eyes focused, he broke a cold sweat, but couldn't bother with it.

After a while of constant clicking, the beeping stopped. The room fell silent.

"This has to work," Jungkook silently whispered to himself. "It has to."

Part 12: The Forgiveness

Jungkook's browser tab opened overwhelmingly many different search tabs all with similar prompts at once. How to get your girlfriend to forgive you? How to apologize to your girlfriend? Does 'take a break' mean we're over? Can I get back with my ex if I still love her? How can I get back with my ex?

Each time his eyes scanned over the word 'ex', his heart wrenched in ways he never felt before. Surely he'd heard it wrong when Y/n said she wanted to take a break. They were supposed to be star-crossed lovers, nothing could get in between them, but of course their egos got in the way.

Jungkook frustratingly slammed his desk with his fist. None of the advice he read from the internet could actually help him. He only had himself.

He stood from his chair which creaked in response to him and walked out his dimly lit room. He had one objective, he had to go to the store.

The entire trip nor the shopping didn't take too long. Afterall, he already had everything planned out in his mind.

"Is that all?" the cashier asked. His eyes never once met Jungkook's.

"Yes."

"That'll be 150 Dollars."

Jungkook furrowed his eyebrow. "That's so expensive!"

The cashier only shrugged, still unimpressed by Jungkook. "Do you want your girlfriend to forgive you or not?"

"Ugh, fine." Jungkook handed him his cash and walked out the store with the stuff he bought.

But what happened after he reached Y/n's door was completely unplanned.

Upon opening the door, Y/n scoffed. It might be brief, but Jungkook's heart ached at the sight of her. Next thing he knew, she was about to close the door on his face hadn't he held the door with his hand.

"Wait, I have something prepared for you. I promise I can make it up to you," Jungkook pleaded.

Y/n rolled her eyes. "Like what?"

As abrupt as his presence on her doorstep, he leaned in and kissed Y/n's plump lips. The taste of Y/n's strawberry lip balm overwhelmed his taste buds. The same flavor even after years of dating her. The same overwhelming feeling and adrenaline rush.

Y/n didn't push him away or slap him in the face, she melted into the kiss instead, which kind of surprised him. So he took it as a signal to deepen the kiss.

He dropped the paperbag holding the stuff he bought from the store and took Y/n in a warm embrace. His tongue explored her mouth, trying to feel every corner of her mouth all at once.

After what felt like milliseconds, Jungkook pulled back from the kiss to catch a breath which Y/n did the same. As they stared at each other, both trying to fill their lungs with as much air as possible before devouring one another, they broke into a laugh.

"So, that's what you mean by 'prepared'?" Y/n linked her arms around Jungkook's neck.

Jungkook shook his head lightly. "Not really. I bought things you might like." Jungkook looped his arms around Y/n's waist. "Look, I'm sorry for letting my ego get in the way. I know you're capable, but I just don't want you to get too tired. Sometimes you have to have fun, you know?"

Y/n nodded. "I know. I'm sorry, too. I guess I was too tired that night."

"Let's go have fun, then," Jungkook suggested as Y/n already pulled them both back into her house.

Part 13: The Resurrection

The ticking clock felt deafening in Jungkook's ears. The hitch of Jinho's breath didn't help. Even the rhythmic thump of his heart felt too loud. It felt like he was being suffocated by the minutes he spent focusing on his surroundings. So instead, Jungkook walked closer upon Y/n's new synthetic body.

"Jinho, how long until she wakes up?" he asked, eyes not leaving her.

"Yours didn't take long, only-"

"How long, Jinho," he pressed, not having enough patience to deal with Jinho's technical speeches.

"Seconds, Prof."

Jungkook caressed Y/n's new face. The same face that he could only see from their wedding photos. The face that he had missed so much. It wasn't hard to admit that he would want their wedding to be immortalized in the form of his lover's face.

He traced Y/n's cheekbones, then her jaws. His fingers grazed ever so slightly on her soft artificial skin. Flawless and beautiful just like how he liked it.

"She should be up by now, right?" Jungkook finally asked as his hand brushed Y/n's hair and tucked it behind her ears.

"Some things can probably-"

"Shut up, Jinho!" Jungkook whisper-yelled as the body in front of him started to wake up.

Y/n's new body opened her eyes wide like she herself was surprised she could wake up in the new body, and unfocused mimicking the lifeless eyes of AI robots. While it was kind of true that Y/n's body was similar to that of an AI, but she wasn't powered with electricity. She was a robot with a human mind.

Y/n's chest then started to go up and down, a small feature Jungkook added to make her seem more human than robot. If one would look close enough, one could even see the nostrils moving slightly, faking breathing.

Jungkook dared himself to call her. "Y/n? Can you hear me?"

And then, everything happened all at once.

Upon hearing his voice, Y/n turned her head sharply to the source of his voice. Then quicker than what Jungkook could process, Y/n leaped from the bed and jumped down on him, ultimately knocking both of them down to the floor. And like a starve-crazed animal, Y/n took a bite of Jungkook's arm that was blocking his face from Y/n's view.

Just as he was about to push Y/n off himself, Jinho came to the rescue and pulled her off of him. Jinho pushed Y/n aside and helped Jungkook up.

"Prof, are you okay?"

"I don't-" Jungkook's speech was interrupted by Y/n clinging on Jinho's body and biting off his ear. Blood poured from the side of his face instantly.

"Y/n! Stop it!" Jungkook manhandled Y/n and tackled her to the ground. He then proceeded by sitting on her back. "Jinho, help me lock her in the storage room. Get the keys now!"

Just as Jungkook saw Jinho running to grab the keys, one hand holding the bleeding ear, Jungkook pulled Y/n up from the ground while holding her hands behind her back. Even in that position, Y/n growled loudly and tried to turn back and face him.

Once Jinho came with the keys, both of them pushed and forced Y/n into the storage room before finally locking the door. Angry growls and loud banging on the door could be heard, but at least they were safe for a while.

With Jinho seemingly already woozy and having trouble walking straight from the loss of blood, Jungkook said, "Let's go to the hospital."

Part 14: The Proposal

Jungkook's hand had fallen asleep long ago, but he didn’t dare to ruin the moment. He glanced at Y/n which leaned her head on his arm, eyes focused on the movie in front of them, hands holding the hot chocolate he had made for her.

This was one of the extremely rare instances where Y/n could have a weekend off and not have to be on standby on her phone. And of course Jungkook was hell-bent on making sure they spend it alone inside the confines of his penthouse.

It seemed like Y/n had realized the gaze Jungkook had on her. Y/n turned her head around and faced him. A small smile appeared on her lips.

“What is it?” she asked, her face visibly showing she was puzzled by Jungkook’s boyish grin that he threw at her.

“I have a surprise.” Jungkook fished out a ring from his shirt’s pocket.

Y/n abruptly stood up, the movie playing in the background had been long forgotten. “No way,” she said as she cupped her hands on her mouth, eyes started to visibly brimming with tears. “Why? When? How?”

“One by one, babe.”

“When did you buy it?” Y/n asked as Jungkook went to put on the ring on her finger.

“Just after apologizing to you at that time.”

Y/n extended her hand and admired the sparkle on the diamond beneath the dim light of the room. “Why did you think it was the right time?”

“Cause I know you’re the one. Especially after what we did that night.”

Seemingly satisfied with the answers he gave, Y/n pulled him up from his seat and engulfed him in a tight hug. “I thought this day would never come,” Y/n cried into his shirt.

Jungkook only pulled her head to lean on his chest closer. “How come?”

“I was being too harsh on you during the fight. I thought you’d hate me for it because what you said was partially right. I know we don’t have that much time together,” she rambled as Jungkook only swayed both their bodies side to side in slow motion.

“You don’t need to think about that eanymore. We’ve made up, right?”

Y/n nodded while still burying her face on Jungkook's chest.

Jungkook hummed in response, but abruptly stopped his swaying when he realized something. "Wait, babe."

Y/n pulled away. Her face was puzzled as she looked up at him, eyes still red and slightly puffy. "What?"

"I haven't proposed to you properly." Jungkook let go of her and crouched on one knee. "Do you want to marry me?"

Part 15: The Hospital

If it weren't for his assistant, the smell of disinfectant and cleaners would have made him leave the hospital sooner. The injuries Jinho bore required him to get an immediate blood transfusion and an emergency surgery to close up the wound caused by the bitten earlobe. 

"Are you sure he was bitten by a dog?" the doctor asked him after announcing that the short surgery had finished.

"Absolutely. It was a wild dog," Jungkook answered as lies seeped through his lips easily.

"Well, it was a big dog, I presume. From the size of the bite, I think it's almost as big as a human."

"You think so?"

The doctor nodded. "I'm worried that the dog might have rabies, so I also gave Mr. Su an anti rabies."

"Do what you have to do, doc." At this point, Jungkook just kept replying to him just to make this talking process faster.

Unlucky for him, the doctor caught a glimpse of his bitten arm that he had wrapped with a gauze he found in his car.

"You got bitten yourself?" the doctor asked, head nodding towards his arm.

"It's fine. Just a small scratch," he lied, he needed to divert the conversation back to his assistant. "Jinho, though, he got bitten. Bad."

The doctor coughed awkwardly. "Right. The surgery was successful. We just did some stitches and it was all done. Unfortunately, for the time being, there's nothing we can do about the missing ear. We can talk more about creating a prosthetic ear for Mr. Su later when he feels better. For now, he will be transferred to his room and in less than an hour he should be up."

Now it was Jungkook's turn to ask the right questions. "When can we go home, then?"

"Once he wakes up and feels okay, you can start to arrange the payments and his discharge."

Jungkook smiled ironically. "Sure."

The doctor left and the wait began. During the first hour, Jungkook saw Jinho being strolled in his bed into his VIP room. Jungkook himself demanded for the VIP room because of the things he wanted to do to Jinho once he woke up. While the room wasn't as big as what Y/n used to have, it was still spacious enough for Jungkook to sit far from his assistant where he could reorder his thoughts.

While Jungkook was adamant that his methods were right and he didn't bypass any process, Y/n somehow acted like she couldn't register her surroundings well. Like she wasn't conscious, which was obviously laughable because he was sure everything was under control. There was no reason, absolutely no reason for the transfer to fail. No way. Only stupid people would fail and he wasn't stupid.

And then, Jinho began to stir awake from the anesthesia. Jungkook quickly rushed to his side and called the doctor.

"Feeling okay?" Jungkook asked.

Jinho nodded but then grimaced.

"I see," Jungkook said as the doctor came into the room.

"Mr. Su. I'm going to do some checks on you. And if you're alright, you can go home anytime you're ready."

The doctor, along with a nurse, checked up on Jinho just like what Jinho himself did to Jungkook a couple of weeks ago. Crazy how in the span of a few weeks a lot had happened.

"Well, Mr. Su, everything looks good. Should you have any complaints, just call me, okay? Just like I said, you can go home anytime."

Jinho let out a weak, "Sure. Thanks," as a response.

Just as the doctor and the nurse left, it was finally Jungkook's turn.

"Jinho, sorry for what happened to you," Jungkook apologized, even Jungkook himself was surprised he could say sorry genuinely.

"It's fine. The cost of science."

"Right. Science." Silence filled the room before he spoke up again. "What do you think happened?"

Jinho wet his lips with his tongue. "I can't really be sure, but my best bet is that we're left with another case similar to the cat."

If the room were quieter, Jungkook probably could hear his heart dropping. It was one to hear your wife dead and another to hear your wife turned into a cannibalistic zombie.

"Is there a way to reverse it? Or fix it?" At this point, he had almost exhausted all of his options except one. One that he couldn't bring himself to say or even to think of.

But Jinho dared himself. "You need to kill her."

Like it was undebatable, Jungkook snapped, “Absolutely not. Are you out of your mind?”

Jinho took a ragged breath. "I'm sorry, Prof, but she can be a danger even to you."

"No." No one could make him change his mind. He wasn't going to kill his wife again for the second time. "There should be a way out."

"I wish, Prof. But I don't think we can do anything about it."

"Stop saying nonsense! There is a way, we just need to figure it out. You're not behaving like a very good assistant now." If it weren't for the gauze around Jinho's head, Jungkook probably would have hit something with his bare hands. "I'm leaving."

Jungkook walked out of the damned hospital feeling like he should've left earlier.

With every kilometer closer to the lab, Jungkook's thoughts slowly poisoned with doubt. He wondered what if Jinho was right, what if the only right way out is to kill her.

He shuddered at the thought. His heart raced and head hurt. On one hand, he loved Y/n too much to kill her, but on the other side, he knew well that his Y/n was no longer there. Just like the cat.

Just like a game of tug of war, his mind is torn between the two choices, whether to live forever with what's left of Y/n or to live forever with the figment of his imagination of Y/n.

Once he arrived on his lab's driveway and parked his car, Jungkook reached out his trembling hand out towards the glove box. He opened the box and took out his other prized possession, his pistol.

Safe and armed, but still as scared and anxious as before, Jungkook jumped out of the car and walked into his lab.

Jungkook went straight to the storage room door and listened attentively to any sound from inside. But his ear caught nothing besides the sound of the ticking clock on the wall.

He opened the door while whispering more towards himself, “Y/n, I love you. I’m sorry for what I’m about to do.”

As expected, once the sliver of light entered the room, Y/n growled and leaped at the door. And when she noticed Jungkook’s presence, she turned her attention towards him. She came at him and almost jumped him if it wasn’t for the loud bang that rendered her scrawled on the floor.

Y/n began to let out a cry that sounded more like a howl in Jungkook’s ears. If he were honest, her cries always hurt him more than her. But he knew this wasn’t the time to ponder. He had made up his mind and he had to finish what he had started.

Before Y/n could gain leverage to stand up and attack him again, Jungkook mustered all his courage and shot her straight in her heart. Not once or twice, but three times to make sure she wouldn’t suddenly wake up again.

And true enough, not long after, he could see a pool of artificial blood surrounding where Y/n body was laying down and his tears began to fall.

Part 16: The Wedding

It felt unreal. Like he was in a movie show and both Y/n and him were the main characters.

All eyes were on them as the officiant said, "I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride!"

As practiced over and over, Jungkook reached for Y/n and kissed her lips passionately. He intended to make the kiss short and sweet, but when he tasted Y/n's strawberry lip balm and smelled her favorite aquatic perfume, he couldn't take it anymore.

He devoured her as if his life depended on it. He wanted to taste her, feel her, be one with her. He could never get enough of her. And when Y/n reciprocated his kiss, she deepened the kiss, Jungkook was in heaven.

He could only be brought back to the moment when the officiant cleared his throat, seemingly trying to remind him where he was.

Reluctantly, Jungkook let go of Y/n's which looked flustered with red cheeks and plump lips. 'Beautiful,' he thought to himself.

As the wedding ceremony progressed to a wedding party, Jungkook grew impatient. He wanted to get done with the party and taste his wife fully. If he could have his way, he wouldn't have held a party at all. But of course his wife got in the way and vetoed his idea. So the party happened.

White gowns, pink flowers, and everyone she ever knew in her life was invited. Even though he was against it, Jungkook really went out his way to make sure that Y/n had the perfect party she had always dreamed of. Jungkook even pulled some strings just to have all her cousins and elementary school friends come and celebrate their special day. As Jungkook looked at Y/n who mingled with her old friends with a wide grin on her face, he knew he made the right choice of hosting the party.

Y/n was just seen waving off some of their guests before walking towards him with a big smile on her face. Her eyes looked a bit drowsy after hours of talking with her guests but still glistening with excitement. Jungkook could've sworn he had never seen her this happy before.

"It was Seyeon. Do you remember her?" Y/n asked.

Jungkook laughed, remembering how he used to dislike her for clinging to Y/n all the time. "And the guy coming with her?"

Y/n came closer to him and whispered in his ear, "That's her second husband."

Jungkook's eyes widened. He never would have thought a quiet girl like Seyeon would get married multiple times.

"And where is her first husband?"

Y/n shrugged. "I didn't dare ask her. It sounds like a sensitive topic. So let's just be happy for her second marriage, yeah?"

"Sure," Jungkook answered just to make the process faster since their families were already waiting outside the ballroom.

Jungkook looped his arm around his wife's waist and they both walked out the ballroom where the limo that would take them to the airport was waiting.

From the corner of his eyes, he could see every single family member and friends waving and smiling at them. Some even got the chance to bid them farewell like Y/n's mom who kissed Y/n's cheek right before she got into the car.

"I'll keep in touch, I promise," Jungkook heard Y/n tell her mom.

When the door closed behind them, they both smiled wide at each other while holding hands, eyes meeting one another as if they're trying to remember each other's faces. And then, it was finally time to go.

Part 17: The Realization

"Oh, no. No no no. It can't be." Jungkook kneeled beside Y/n's new yet lifeless body.

He shook, pinched, and even slapped her, trying to wake her up, but of course nothing could wake her up ever again. He had totally lost her forever.

"No way. No," Jungkook cried. He buried his face on Y/n's stomach, not even once caring about the artificial blood that started to stain his clothes. "Y/n, I'm so sorry."

Jungkook could only bear so much in his 80 years of living in the world. He had lost his son too early due to overdosing, failed to upload his mind when he was still alive. He had witnessed it first hand when Y/n's doctor read her diagnosis. He had to accompany Y/n through every single chemos until the point where her body was too weak to leave the hospital altogether. He simply couldn't bear the loss of his dear wife. It was too much even for a man like Jungkook.

Jungkook didn't know how long he had stayed beside Y/n. He didn't even care about his growling stomach or his drying eyes. He could even swear that he had fallen asleep for quite some time. For all he knew, he came back to the lab when the sky was already black and now he could see a sliver of light coming through from the small slits on the wall.

Even though his body was man made, his bones cracked and his joints popped when he stood up from his slouched position on the floor. Jungkook stretched his body, popping more joints, as he stared at what he had done the night before.

Y/n was still pretty much in her previous position, but her arms had moved since Jungkook hugged her the night before. Now her arms were just contorting in an awkward position beside her torso. 

Jungkook cringed at the sight. "I need to get rid of the body," Jungkook said to himself.

He grabbed a shovel from the rack inside the storage room, walked out towards the lab's small backyard, and began digging on the damp soil. Once he deemed that the hole was big enough, he dragged Y/n's old body and new body one by one and dropped them into the hole. All the while, his heart ached and his tears threatened to fall again.

No longer being able to hold back his tears, Jungkook cried while he buried both bodies. Drop of tears fell to the newly piled soil, as if sealing the burial site of his lover.

"I'm sorry, Y/n. I failed at being a good husband and a scientist. I failed you," was the last words he said before he plucked a random flower in the garden and placed it gently on top of Y/n's final resting place.

Done with what he had to do, Jungkook went back inside the lab, brought his important stuff with him, and locked the door. He was finally ready to go home, or rather penthouse, as his home had left him for good.

Part 18: The Diagnosis

The beeping sound that usually annoyed him this time didn’t faze him at all. He was busy calming down his dear wife that was laying down on the hospital bed.

��Babe, I’m scared. What if I only have a few months left?” Y/n gripped his hand tight as if he could disappear if she let go for a split second.

Jungkook himself was also worried about that. He, too, didn’t want to be left alone by his wife. But he was just scared to voice it. He didn’t want to actually jinx it, or worse, made Y/n even more scared than she already was.

In a totally Jungkook-style, he replied, "I've almost finished with my technology. Everything will be okay. We'll be fine." All the while, his wrinkled hand softly caressed Y/n's.

As if on cue, the doctor came into the room while holding a clipboard to his chest. His hair was unruly, Jungkook reckoned he might have shuffled his hair in frustration. That couldn't be a good sign, Jungkook knew that and his mind was already running on the worst possible scenarios.

"How is it, doctor?" Jungkook asked.

"Mrs. Jeon is tested positive for Cervical Cancer."

Jungkook's defenses collapsed as he shouted, "No! There must be something wrong. Y/n is fine. She should be."

His ears were ringing, Y/n was sobbing beside him, and the doctor was looking at both of them sympathetically. The world must be pulling a prank on him. If not, the world must be truly evil for letting this happen to him.

Part 19: The Laboratory

Jungkook couldn't remember where he had kept the keys nor could he remember the name of the road of which his damned laboratory was built upon. And frankly, if it wasn't for motherfucking Jinho who insisted he check on the lab, he didn't care.

After the disaster upon disaster that happened to him, Jungkook wanted nothing to do with his failed project and his late wife. He enjoyed life as if he got a second chance to redo his life. And practically, he did get a second chance.

He clubbed, he got wasted, he tried whatever drugs he could get his hands on, he got high, he did one night stands. He did everything he could to forget his past. He partially succeeded, especially when he was so intoxicated out of his mind, until one morning when Jinho came to his penthouse.

It was just another day where he clubbed until 4 am. He was still peacefully snoring when the intercom beeped, signalling that the security was trying to reach him.

Jungkook stretched his body and moaned loudly, all with eyes shut. The room he was in, the guest room, was reeking of sweat and alcohol. His head pounded and throat was desert dry. The intercom beeped again.

He opened his eyes and took in the situation he was in. Beside him, a woman whose name he didn't care to know was sleeping soundly. Low snores could be heard every time she exhaled. Her unruly hair sprawled across the bed and covered parts of her face.

'Good,' Jungkook thought to himself as he pushed himself up from the bed. He didn't want to see the woman's face just yet. The intercom beeped again.

Huffing, Jungkook walked towards the intercom. "What is it?" he croaked.

"Good morning, is this Professor Jeon?" The familiar voice of the security could be heard from the intercom.

"I'm his grandson. What is it? Make it quick."

"Someone wishes to meet Professor Jeon."

"Who?"

"He said his name is Su Jinho."

Upon hearing his former assistant's name, Jungkook groaned. "Let him up."

Not wanting to suffer the dry throat and headache any longer, Jungkook swallowed some Tylenol and threw himself onto his couch in the living room. He had one more problem that was still laying on his bed, but his energy had already drained.

Lucky for him, not long after he slumped on his couch, the problem walked out the guest room. She only wore a bra and underwear. Her hair didn't look any better than it did sprawled on the bed. And her makeup ran down her face, making her look like she just cried all night.

"Should we get breakfast?" the woman had the audacity to ask him that while rummaging through his fridge.

"No. Get the fuck off. I have a guest coming." Jungkook slowly got up from the couch and pushed the woman out of his kitchen.

The woman pouted at him. "But I haven't eaten anything! And my clothes are gone."

Jungkook shrugged. "Nor have I. And who cares where your clothes are."

Jungkook continued to push the woman closer to his penthouse door as the woman struggled against him.

"Why are you doing this?" the woman asked.

"Doing what?" Jungkook opened the door.

"Taking my innocence. I thought you love me."

Not impressed by her unfunny joke, Jungkook ironically laughed. "Haha, that's funny. I don't do love. It doesn't look good on me."

With a final push, Jungkook pushed the woman and locked the door. She began banging on the door, yelling something along the lines of she was naked and left her phone inside, but Jungkook had more problems to take care of.

"She'll get over it," Jungkook mumbled to himself as he closed the guest room, making a mental note to clean it up after Jinho left.

The doorbell rang, implying someone was waiting outside. Not wanting to accidentally meet the previous woman's wrath, Jungkook peeped through the peephole. Luckily, he was met with a familiar receding hairline of Jinho.

Promptly, Jungkook opened the door and said, “Why are you here?” to the man standing in front of him. His eyes couldn't help but train at the missing ear. Jinho probably never cared to get a prosthetic ear, either that or he wore it proudly as a battle scar.

Instead of answering his question, Jinho walked into his penthouse with another question, "Do you know that crying woman in the hallway?"

"Nope."

Jinho took a seat on the couch. "Do you know you're still in boxers?"

Jungkook slumped beside him. "So?"

"Prof, what happened?" This time, Jinho asked with a tone that Jungkook didn't like. Sympathy.

"Cut the bullshit. You know what happened."

"I know. But this is not you."

Jungkook inhaled deeply before lecturing his former assistant. "Jinho, stop reprimanding me. And stop saying clichés. I hate it. Just say what you're here for and leave."

"I just want to check up on you and the lab."

Jungkook let out a laugh. "The lab? Absolutely not. I'd rather you ask me to destroy it."

"No, prof. I want to check what went wrong."

"Why? It's been years. It's better if you get a prosthetic ear than redoing the experiment."

"I don't want to redo it, I just want to publish it."

Upon hearing what Jinho had said, Jungkook grew intrigued. If it were possible, his ears would probably have gone straighter. "Are you finally getting that Ph.D.?"

"That's why I need to publish an article."

"Why didn't you say so earlier?" Jungkook said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Jungkook stood up from the couch at the same time as Jinho said, "Well, are we going?"

"Yeah. But don't get anywhere near the grave."

As promised, once they arrived at the lab, Jinho went straight inside, leaving Jungkook just beside the grave.

The grave looked nightmarish given that Jungkook never bothered to take care of it after he buried Y/n. Weeds grow wildly around and on the grave, making the grave look less like a grave and more like a random bump of dirt.

“Hey, Y/n. Long time no see.”

Out of nowhere, Jungkook felt a sting in his eyes and his eyes watered. This was exactly the reason why he didn’t want to have anything to do with the lab anymore. He was partially fine without the lab and would be better off once he had fully forgotten it.

Jungkook sniffled. “I hope you’re doing well wherever you are, because I’m not.” Jungkook plucked a random pink flower he saw in the small garden and placed it on top of the grave. “Life is shit without you.”

Jungkook looked around his surroundings. Except for the weeds and moss, not much has changed. Things were visibly dusty, but nothing a broom or duster can’t fix. The small garden which was initially Y/n’s idea, now breeds wild ivy almost everywhere. Jungkook snorted at the sight. Both the garden and him weren’t so much different after all. They both came worse off without Y/n tending to them.

Not wanting to ruin the moment by staying gloomy, Jungkook stood up from his crouching position and followed Jinho inside.

Inside was not much different. Dust was everywhere, but Jinho managed to clean two stools and a desk in which he sat at one. Jungkook walked closer and sat on the other chair.

“What did you find?” he asked as Jinho shoved a notebook to his hand.

“Why are you giving me this?” Jungkook fumbled with the book. It was still dirty despite Jinho’s visible attempt to clean it. The leather cover was worn and scratched in places, the pages were turning yellow. Inside, Y/n’s familiar neat writings could be seen but just on the first page. Jungkook wondered why and what did Y/n write there but he kept it to himself. It was something he should figure out himself.

“It’s Y/n’s, I reckon. You might want to have it.”

“Thanks.” He closed the book and put it on the table. “Did you find anything else?”

“Yes.” The answer was short but brooding with something Jungkook couldn’t put his finger on.

“What is it?”

Without words, Jinho pointed to a text on the monitor. On it written in red with big bold font the word ‘ERROR’.

“If my calculations are correct, the transfer failed because of the error. And we didn’t notice that because we deliberately ignored the error signals.”

Part 20: The Notebook

Hello, Jungkook baby,

I’m not sure whether you’ll read this or not, but I still want to write to you something. I’m writing here moments after you visited me and showed me your new body. I can’t express how happy I am to see that your experiment finally came to fruition. There’s nothing better than seeing young Jungkook again before my death. That is if I really am going to die. If not, I will probably get rid of this book. So now that you’re reading this means that I’m no longer with you. But don’t worry, don’t be sad, nor be disappointed in yourself. I know you feel like a failure every time someone close to you passes away, but don’t feel the same when it’s my turn.

I know I won’t live forever and I intend to keep it that way even though your technology might have defied the laws of nature. Life has done some good things to me like letting me marry you, letting me have our son, and even seeing young Jungkook again. I’m so grateful that I have made many beautiful memories with you that I often replay here on the hospital bed when you’re not here with me. And I want you to do just the same.

Let go of all sadness and disappointment and just remember me in your daydreams. Live your unlimited life as best as possible for this is your second shot at life. And if you fall in love with another woman, be with her. Shower her with love the same way you did with me. Because, your second life is for you and her to enjoy, not mine.

Both our first lives had been spent with one another and I want to keep it that way. So, Jungkook baby, be well and live your life. I’ll always love you.

Yours always,

Y/n

[Taglist]

@lyoongx @jjddk @babeejeon @thehopelessromanticclub @okvmv @rg2108 @idkhieveryoneig @misshale21 @dna-black-and-blue @chimggukk @lovingkoalaface @yok00k @bamieeee03 @ihatesnakeu7 @lovelyyylunaa222 @134340-kr @cherricherry @jeonzll @loomipee @haru-jiminn @kissforyouu @mageprincess7 @lachimolalajeon @sglossmin @jjk174 @looneyblues @junecat18 @futuristicenemychaos @aindrila7 @reallygenerouskoala

[spinedotlazuli1120]

I'm gonna point out that a majority of the fandom make Alastor the main villain of the entire show, claiming that he's the one person with ulterior motives. Meanwhile, the Vees are standing right there, with Valentino forcing his owned souls to fuck each other live on TV, Velvette being a spoiled brat and letting her owned souls to die in the hands of a piss baby, and Vox not only spying on the hotel, hypnotizing everyone who uses voxtec gadgets, but also had an actual plan to stop CHARLIE from making a deal with ALASTOR.

Now, based on Vox's tone when he said this, it's implied he's scared of the chaos that would happen if CHARLIE made a deal with Alastor, not the other way around.

He talks like Alastor is the least of his problems here, and that Charlie is the main issue the moment a deal is struck.

Folks in the fandom paint the one guy helping the main characters into achieving their (nearly IMPOSSIBLE) goals as the main antagonist of the entire show. On the other hand, they paint literally the characters that are crueler than the aforementioned demon as UwU babies that could do no harm.

No, just because they're your faves and that they're fictional doesn't mean you can defend their actions in canon. I know some people here have defended the Vees and their actions, but let's analyze them.

We already know Valentino, so let's skip that bald asshole.

Vox. Now, I know for a fact that nearly everyone in the radiostatic fandom view their falling out as Alastor hurting and leaving Vox in the cruellest way possible. BUT, has it ever occured to you people that it was VOX at fault? I know some of you don't believe this, but I'm pointing out that just because Vox appears friendly, he's still dangerous, and that's a problem some vox fans have.

Now, Velvette. Don't you dare tell me that she didn't do anything beyond letting her employees get killed. She created a "love potion' that was HEAVILY IMPLIED to have Valentino's saliva in. She is the Internet overlord and most likely bans people who talk shit about their brand. She is most likely the one overlord who didn't earn her power but was given to her by vox when he first found her in hell.

People are so busy viewing one side of the story and completely turning the one character that helps the main character in their everyday life into a one dimensional asshole. Meanwhile, there's a group of actual one dimensional assholes right fucking there and they're being treated like angels who haven't done shit that are so bad they ended up in hell

This is your hazbin hotel warning so sorry 🫶🫶🫶

OKAY SO, a thing I haven’t seen this fandom consider is that Alastor doesn’t deal in souls. Or, not often at least.

If there has I’d honestly like to see the posts bc this is a thought I’ve seen basically just me and my sister talk about. He doesn’t care—I’d even argue he thinks he’s too good to do so, thinks it’s too easy.

There’s a couple reasons I believe this, one of which being his backstory arriving in hell. Let it be known, the reason all of hell was impressed by his takeover as the radio demon was solely because he does not own any industry. He doesn’t have some company he’s been building for several decades. He didn’t join in with other overlords for shared power. He arrived in hell, and disrupted the power structure of overlords, and sinners. (We’ll get back to this later)

And the reason all of these overlords own major industries, famous for their insane production value and craft, is because the way that overlords gain power is through souls. Employment therefore being THROUGH these contracts (I’m going to refer to deals having to do with souls as contracts from now on, just to make a distinction). This is why Angel is owned by Valentino as a pornstar. It’s why Vox can just “call up the lowest earners this month” for Valentino to shoot for sport. It’s why Velvette can call her models hideous and let Valentino tear apart her best model. None of these souls, these employees, have any say in what or when or who their employers say they have to do. They simply do not have the autonomy to do so.

Now this calls in the question then, how did Alastor gain his overlord powers? If he owns souls, they are either ones he was given or earned from other overlords (ex, Alastor wins all of husker’s souls in a game of poker, leaving him powerless, and making his deal in the first place), or they were given to him by an overlord themself. Alastor CAN make souls stay at the hotel, but presumably, it’s not because he owns them.

If Alastor owned any other souls than Nifty and Husk’s, they would already be working at the hotel. We get back to that employment dynamic, contracts are means of living. None of these sinners had a choice because sinners have to make contracts to live.

Now, okay, we’ve established why Alastor’s overlord status is confusing and honestly makes no sense, why overlords are even overlords in the first place, the class metaphor and dynamic of the whole situation, AND why we know Alastor doesn’t own that many souls.

Now, I present you this: Alastor does not want Charlie’s soul. Alastor, wants to be rid of the overlord class completely.

LET ME PREFACE THIS BY SAYING: I KNOW The current ideas in the fandom of Alastor are that he wants more power. But, to be honest, the last scene with his character feels disingenuous to this idea.

Clearly, he’s in a deal with someone else. Clearly, this system has affected him too. Clearly, he just wants an out in the first place.

So, let’s go back to when Alastor first arrives in hell. Mimzy narrates how people dismissed him. How he wasn’t taken seriously. And then, proceeds to imply that targeting overlords for his radio show was to show said strength. Because Alastor was not someone to be dismissed.

And this characterization furthers in the episode itself: Alastor immediately has some beef with Lucifer because he’s a far more powerful being who wanted to dismiss his presence in the first place, preferring his daughter. Where they then have a pissing contest musical number, and Alastor generally dislikes him afterwords. My man even wipes his hand on his shirt after shaking his staff.

Not only that, but when Husk even IMPLIES that he’s not strong enough to handle whatever Mimzy has gotten herself into this time, that he’s still someone on a leash, he rampages on a killing spree to prove that he’s “still the baddass radio demon”.

This isn’t even mentioning when Carmilla said she wasn’t curious as to why he was gone. He needs to be important, to be noticed.

I understand that Alastor is genuinely someone who must prove themself and show their strength. It’s probably why he became a serial killer in the first place.

However, I think there’s a deeper intention with solely targeting overlords—one of his only contracts is with Husker, an ex overlord. The question would also be, why would he not put husk in his radio show as well?

Clearly, based on the fact that he warns him that Mimzy is just using him, that she’s a fake friend, they at the very least were amicable with each other. At some point. Maybe even still are. They STILL banter. And this isn’t to say it’s some weird “I’m in love with my kidnapper uwu” situation, this happened well before they were in a contract together in the first place.

Not only that, but Husker earned his souls, and therefore his power and overlord status, through gambling. He didn’t have some big scary industry, he wasn’t trapping people in these forever deals because they had no choice, he gained these through the unethical means of others. Maybe… Alastor believed that the ways in which he dealt souls, were different.

I can’t help but think that the company entirely surrounding taking away consent is the ONE COMPANY/THREE OVERLORDS that Alastor simply does not fuck with.

Not only that, but the only other overlord he’s friendly with is one that… just genuinely helps the people she employs? Just give them advice? Makes it THEIR CHOICE to march with someone else into battle? I love Rosie.

This isn’t to say Alastor is some saint that cares super oober deeply about consent. He doesn’t. If he did he wouldn’t be associating with overlords in the first place. He wouldn’t be taking advantage of people in such lowly positions.

All of this is to build the argument that Alastor does not own souls, nor associate with people who own them in irresponsible or unnecessarily cruel ways.

And, to further this point, Alastor most likely thinks it’s stupid in the first place.

In the pilot (which I understand isn’t COMPLETELY canon but it’s still Alastor’s character so. Whatever) Alastor almost immediately tries to jump Charlie with a deal. Work at the hotel, in exchange…?

But notice that this does not include ownership of her soul. At all.

In episode 7 before Charlie makes her deal, she asks, “You want…my soul?” And while he has this weird radio-y affect that goes all over the place while he says “your soul”, he also immediately replies in the most babying voice ever “Heavens no!” Like the very idea of needing her soul was silly. Ridiculous. Idiotic.

And, not only this, but when Vaggie bursts in to try and “save” her, he also rolls his eyes as he says “oh relax, she still owns her soul.” Again, babying. Infantilizing. Ridiculous.

It, again, feels like he doesn’t take the concept seriously. Like he thinks they’re almost too easy. To me, it’s clear he never wanted her soul. He’s always been far more interested in what Charlie can do for him, and what she can do with her dream.

Owning Charlie’s soul would simply give power over her, and her alone. Even in the interpretation that he “wants more power” she’s still just one person, one soul, one hell born. It’s so small inmemorable in the grand scheme of things. If he really wanted power through means of souls, he would fight the upward battle of capitalist destruction that is the overlord monetary system.

SO THIS IS ALL OVER THE PLACE, AND I ALSO WANTED TO WRAP THIS UP WITH ALASTOR’S TRUE MOTIVATION BEING DISRUPTING POWER—but this is also far too long and I’ve been writing for like. An hour straight lmao. I need a break and I wanna post this. So.

[bonewaryreblogs]

Clark Kent/Kal-El (Superman)

Saved by his parents essentially macgyver-ing a rocket stasis pod, kryptonian toddler Kal-El was launched into space as Krypton exploded, eventually crash landing on Earth, near Smallville, Kansas. He was found by Martha and Jon Kent, who were in their 30s and desperately wanted children but had just been told they would be unable to conceive naturally, and adopted as Clark Kent, named after Martha’s maiden name. They weren’t sure how old Clark was so they just started counting from when they found him, calling that his “birth” day in 1952. They never hid his origins from him but they also couldn’t tell him what they didn’t know about Krypton.

As the child of a scientist and an astronaut back on Krypton, Clark was naturally smart and excelled at school, when he wasn’t labeled a “problem child” as he struggled to control his wide variety of superpowers, though he was able to hide these powers from all but his parents and his two closest friends, Lana Lang and Pete Ross, who also agreed to keep the secret. Clark tried to keep a low profile but Jon and Martha instilled a strong sense of right, wrong, and justice into Clark so he could never turn a blind eye to those in need.

At one point, the Legion of Superheroes arrived from the future via time travel and Clark went with them for a while, dropped off mere minutes after initially leaving to maintain timeline integrity. While in the future, Clark received superhero training and is told certain things about himself (yellow vs red sun radiation, Kryptonite, the fate of Krypton, etc) but understood that some things he would have to learn on his own, in his own time period (like his Rogues Gallery). Clark had been debating what to do with himself  before this but felt good about fulfilling his destiny as a superhero by the time he returned. Since he was still (at least legally) 16 by this point, Clark began preparations to move to Metropolis, focusing on studying to be a reporter/journalist as his day job rather than trying to be a superhero just yet.

(I’m using this to set up a reboot of an old idea I had for Braniac 5 and my OC Batboy getting stuck in the past for a while. It was initially for Teen Titans, but I kinda wanna rework it to fit with Phantom Bat lol)

Graduating at 18, he goes to Metropolis University for a few years before debuting as Superman at 25, having already established himself at the Daily Planet. He is quickly inducted into the Justice Society of America but soon realized the superhero team had some major flaws and drawbacks, particularly as he realized these “heroes” had become little more than the American government’s attacks dogs rather than thinking for themselves and following an independent moral system. He stayed, though, so he could access their resources, network with other heroes, and learn what not to do as he began making plans to create his own superhero team.

After meeting Batman (a la “The Batman” Season 5), Superman approaches Bruce with his plan for the Justice League, asking if Wayne Enterprise would be its “secret” financial backer. Bruce says he’ll think about it, since he had a lot on his plate at the time. Superman meets Wonder Woman shortly after she stopped Ares from inciting World War III, and quickly gets her to support his Justice League idea. Together they recruit Flash (Barry Allen), Green Lantern (Hal Jordan), Aquaman (Orin of Atlantis), and Martian Manhunter (J’onn J’onzz) as their starting lineup by the time Bruce finally agrees to back the Justice League, debuting to the world shortly thereafter in 1994. Once established and proven to be stable (ie. not likely to disband like other independent superhero teams) the Justice League drew many new members from around the world, often as representatives of national teams.

[kirythestitchwitch]

Klaroline WIP Wed - Waffle House AU - Oh Hi Kol

Part One here Part Two here Part Three here Part Four here

I'm skipping a whole bunch of Caroline naval gazing about eating free range and having thinky thoughts about blood bags and Mikaelsons and stuff. Now it's another night at the Waffle House...

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

It wasn’t chickening out if it was less than 24 hours since she’d made up her mind to [drink blood from the source], it wasn’t. Besides, she was waiting for the perfect opportunity.

Tapping her pencil against her Calculus book, she bit her thumbnail and tried not to watch the other two tables of diners too obviously. The table with the family with two kids was probably a wash, it would just be Caroline’s luck that little Susie came looking for Mom and found her being chewed on. 

The young couple was promising, though. Either girl would do, she wasn’t picky. If one of them got up.

Picking up a slice of toast spread liberally with jam from her plate, Caroline nibbled on it. She’d actually unbent and ordered breakfast-for-dinner, just to take the edge off her nerves and appetite. The idea had only gone so-so, as she was still picking at her food. The coffee she was drinking by the potful. Marcy had come by multiple times in the past half hour to fill her mug.

As if summoned, Marcy stopped by her table with the pot of coffee and filled her cup back up to the brim. “You still working on that, sugar?” With her chin she gestured at Caroline’s plate.

A wane smile flitted across Caroline’s face. “Yeah, I just have a lot on my mind tonight. Keep getting distracted.”

Marcy smiled sympathetically. “Well you wanna talk about it, I’ve got a break coming up in about forty-five minutes.”

‘‘Hey Marcy, I’m being distracted by thoughts of eating people in the restroom, I’m actually hunting them as we speak,’ yeah that will go over so well!’ Caroline thought.

“I’ll let you know?” she said instead.

With a pat to her arm, the server went back behind the counter, leaving Caroline to her thoughts.

The front door opened behind her with a faint jingle, and Caroline started to wonder if some new options for a meal had come in, or if more people meant more trouble. She didn’t get a chance to even finish the thought. Kol Mikaelson tossed himself into the opposite side of her booth.

Caroline froze. He sprawled comfortably, one arm along the back of the bench, and he smiled, a cheeky little thing. She squinted. 

“Alright,” he said, lifting a finger to twirl it in the air, “Let’s get it over with.”

“Aren’t you dead?” she asked. On the off chance she was turning into Jeremy and seeing spirits, she wanted to be sure.

“And there it is.” Reaching across the table, he picked up a slice of her toast and crammed it into his mouth. “I got better,” he said, mouth full.

“You got better?” she said skeptically while he chewed.

“You may have noticed the Anchor wasn’t very anchored there for a little while. The walls got a bit flexible.” Kol reached for another slice of toast, and Caroline smacked his hand. He pulled back with an amused look. 

“Order your own,” she glared.

[dykedvonte]

You ever just see a Mouthwashing take that makes you want to bang your head into a wall? I literally just saw someone claim Curly couldn't have been emotionally abused by Jimmy before the crash because he was in a higher position of power than Jimmy.

-Shrimp Anon

The mouthwashing fandom has shown me that people genuinely do believe that certain types of abuse are not as detrimental as other types especially when they deem those immune/resistant, ergo, believing one is objectively worse no matter how it affects the person nor the intersections of power, history and dynamics at play.

Get ready cause this is a yap session:

Cause like it's heavily implied that Curly and Jimmy's friendship was toxic and abusive, pointedly in the direction of how Jimmy uses Curly's belief/comfort in him. Curly wasn't forced to enable Jimmy but he was emotional and mentally on edge around him in almost every scene in some way. Mental and emotional abuse are not contingent on what positions you have at work. Yeah, he's Jimmy's boss but he was Jimmy's friend first and it's like getting into Psych discussion to talk about how social power tends to overshadow any perceived organizational power in the human mind. People are concerned about their jobs ofc but they tend to hang onto and put more value/investment into their personal relationships, hence why there tends to be laws and restrictions around mixing the two.

I always see the sentiments that "Curly is a grown ass man", "Curly is bigger than Jimmy", "Curly is Jimmy's boss", "He just needed a backbone" as criticisms of Curly and while I do agree that on the surface level all of these to be true and viable ways Curly could've taken more control of the situation, I often look at the parallels of Anya and Curly as victims of Jimmy pre/post crash.

The way Jimmy talks to Anya post crash is how he talked to Curly in the pre-crash segments. It's hard to pin-point mainly because we know he hates and wants nothing to do with Anya compared to his contrary but similarly handled obsessions with Curly. It's a weird sort of "honey-moon" effect of abuse Jimmy does in terms of emotional and mental victimization. He is always horrid to Anya, always talking down or questioning her abilities and thoughts in a situation, this of course includes the harassment and assault. However, he has a moment of attempted gentleness/conditioning when he question her about the mouthwash when she's contemplating drinking it at the table. The key difference is he has no personal investment in Jimmy outside wanting nothing to do with him, meaning there is no sort of romanticized version of him that he can condition her off of. He knows this, hence, why he always reverts to trying to make her to scared to oppose him.

This sort of give and take of "kindness" doesn't work on her because she knows he is just doing it to take more from her than whatever he could possibly give but it reflects even the "softer" scenes between him and Curly where he always rewords or rephrases Curly's sentiments and concerns to sound more shallow. He is feigning a deeper understanding by reworking Curly's emotions into something bad and needing to be hidden. Everything is laced with envy and resentment, an outburst just around the corner, I mean he even slams the table in the birthday party scene, a tactic in emotional manipulation to set the victim on edge and cloud their ability to respond. Even if Curly knows Jimmy won't get physical in that moment, the physical actions is intended to make him back down in the confrontation in case it does. This is something that is just not person specific. It ingrains itself into how you interact with the world and life and it shows in major and minor ways with Curly.

Post-crash, the abusive nature is more in tandem to the physical victimization Anya went through and the stripping of voice and autonomy we see take place. Like the parasite in HFIM, Jimmy speaks for Curly most of the time and puts words in his mouth, similarly to how he takes Anya's plans as his own. He very commonly, with the both of them mind you, supplements the worst aspects of himself into them; pettiness, selfishness, lack of understanding... And tries to cover himself with their best qualities; kindness, planning, initiative, etc...

These parallel are just to say that positional power has little to do with if a person can be abused and how it can even be flipped to further the abuse. There is no doubt that Curly could've picked up on Jimmy's envy of his position hence another reason he never confronted him as a Captain but as a friend as doing so would immediately put Jimmy in a space to be confrontational/combative.

I think the disdain some people have when they talk about the heavily implied if not implicitly stated emotional/mental abuse Curly experienced being Jimmy's friend is when treating it as an excuse to why he didn't do more. I can understand that completely because it is not an excuse to why he didn't do more but is a very real reason people in his position in these scenarios can experience whether in the context of a work or social environment. However, I also think the way people talk about it really does demonstrate a bigger problem when talking about abuse when somehow who is/was abused is either part of the issue or enabled it.

Harkening back to the sentiments about Curly's inaction regarding Jimmy, I think the exact phrases I used/have seen show how there is an inherent belief that it is easier to overpower the effects of emotional/mental abuse that go in tandem with the perception of Curly as someone who should be able to. There is not an age you suddenly stop being susceptible to abuse nor a set point or low where you realize how it has affected you. You don't suddenly know to stand up or put a face on to face your abuser nor admit that you inadvertently enabled them to subjugate someone else to the same treatment. Maybe it's my psych brain but their is this growing belief that direct action is somehow easy or always the best method with the game shows you instances where it is not always the case. In real life that rings true too. He should have done more, but it's not impossible to see why he struggled to find a way or didn't even if it makes us mad.

It's not easy to suddenly gain a "back-bone". You don't immediately want to resort to aggression, especially if it mirrors the type you were a victim to. You don't want to believe you allowed yourself to be treated this bad, let it get that bad or allowed something bad to happen to someone else. It is easy to be in denial, to retreat to your thoughts or make excuses to avoid the painful truth. It's frustrating but in a way we know is relatable. It why we both hate and love Curly for it. We know we'd be better, we think we'd be better, we like to think we wouldn't falter in the same ways but it's always easier to say that from the outside looking in. It's easy to see what he was doing wrong because we are seeing it, not him, but the game really does make you picture what you would do if this was your raw reality and it's why this debate about Curly seems so never ending/contradictory. We can all say what we'd do but bottom line is that's much different when you're in the moment with all the emotions and human feelings attached.

I personally think Mouthwashing tackles the themes of rape culture, enabling, toxic masculinity, types of abuse and patriarchy in ways that are meant to deconstruct the typical straightforward views we mostly have of these concepts and how little subtilities of them are just as, if not more, detrimental than the overt/obvious parts. The game deals with the idea of little details and bigger picture in a way to show that sometimes the bigger picture is not the issue but the little details that make it up. It's why I have a personal dislike of depictions of Jimmy as the typical horrible person who would of course do something like this because the game is about noticing the little warning signs, the foreshadowing and foresight.

It's why I dislike the typical discussion of "bro code" and "boys will be boys" for the game because the game makes a point to avoid the standard depictions of such. It is about the type of men who still enable despite not condoning, agreeing or even perpetuating harmful beliefs because they can't see the little details or the ways it seeps into their everyday. The severity is not obvious to them as it was not obvious to Curly, Swansea or even Daisuke the way it was to a woman like Anya. There are little details about Jimmy that should ring alarms but if you are too naive like Daisuke, too distant like Swansea or too conditioned like Curly, they are just off markers.

There is 100% more constructive/concise ways to say "Curly was a victim of Jimmy's abuse on an emotional and mental aspect that clouded his judgements and perceptions in the scenario" while also critiquing on the side of "Curly still had a responsibility to protect Anya as a crew mate and Captain that he failed to do due to biases and stigma's he failed to surpass" without the weird condemnation people give him about should've knowing better than to let himself be manipulated by a person he considered a close, if not family/best-friend and had his own reasons to trust initially. Also stop being weird about victims of abuse in general with this fandom, like sorry not everyone has a like social epiphany the moment someone's nasty to them. People are treating it like you immediately know when you are in a toxic relationship immediately or comprehend when a person is actively dangerous and either it's your fault for not knowing how to leave/cut them off or you deserve it. Like the hypocrisy of people believing how certain fans treat the story reflect their irl views but not their own is crazy.

End statement is: I honestly don't even know man, I've been writing this too long and just like no man on that ship was perfect or really helped Anya when it mattered and I feel like pitting them against each other in discussion on who did the least or most or how it was justified sucks cause in the end Anya always did the most and best thing for herself.

[lleclerc]

iceman + his concern for maverick post-hop 31

[fumifooms]

Dungeon lord Chilchuck

What would his wish as a dungeon lord be? What would he be like? Headcanons & speculation post for fun. But I’ll start with analytic lead up because that’s always fun for me, though feel free to skip and skim.

When it comes to what Chilchuck’s dungeon lord desires could/would be like we have mainly 3 hints: His nightmare, his succubus and what the winged lion says to him.

Why: — From what we see nightmares are based on the person’s worst fears and insecurities, both Laios’ and Marcille’s nightmare were closely tied to their dungeon lord wishes (Laios’ dream monster being summoned to crush the ghosts of relationships that represented the pressure to fit in and belong, Marcille seeking control over death and aging through magic to avoid loss), the fuel behind their desire/goal if you will. Fear and deep-seated desires are seemingly closely tied, something also supported by Thistle and Mithrun’s reigns as dungeon lords (Thistle proving his worth through fulfilling his given duty + protecting his loved ones, being listened to instead of having to listen, Mithrun escaping rigid two-faced elven society and living in a wonderland where he has no enemies and he’s loved, free from everyone he knew yet propped up by the person symbolizing his brother being chosen over him, the bastard child).

— I’ve talked about the significance I assign to the succubi often by now, but rundown: What we see of each character is all very telling if you care to listen, it shows not only someone’s "ideal form" but what they want from it. Izutsumi’s is familial, offering a hug and comfort, Marcille’s is romantic with a character she knows and loves, offering a kiss on a hand and a connection regardless of how distant it actually is, and Laios’ is platonic, arguable at first but then Laios’ fear of judgement is placated and he is offered the picture perfect friend group that accepts his interest (if you want my full look at Laios’ succubus go here). They take on the most alluring form, most ideal person of their victim, even uncovering deep subconscious desires, so precisely and effectively to the point it leaves victims physically frozen before the object of their desire. Succubi and the demon are themselves tied in lore and it’s easy to see how similar their core skill are. Succubi don’t give a good idea of what a character would wish for on their own but they certainly give hints on what they crave, regardless of how you want to read it.

— Last bit is self-explanatory. To placate Chilchuck and win his compliance over, the monster that reads your soul like an open book offers to give him something specific. But! It’s also important to remember that the lion isn’t offering to fulfill Chilchuck’s dream world wish here, it’s a second prize, because his goal with what he promised Laios is that they’d stay in this world, away from everyone and everything else. Chilchuck wants to get away but is kept back, and it’s here the lion placates him with "hey it’s okay! You can’t do that but I can still give you this! This is enough right? It’ll make everything easier on you".

What each bit says: — Long version in another post. Tldr: His daughters and family are obviously important to him, and this reinforces that he takes on the role of protector a lot, he’s constantly worried for his party members’ lives and implicitly his family’s. Safety and stability, both economical and otherwise, are his core values and goals, and he berates both others and himself if someone fails on those fronts. Here, there’s the fear of not being enough, of not having been able to protect, and of course of loss.

— Chil’s succubi are obviously sexual, and not only that but agressively and straightforwardly so. It’s not like Marcille’s where there’s personality involved, all they do is give him sultry looks and pretty smiles before jumping on him. His succubi aren’t like Izutsumi’s, always the same exact person and appearance, so it’s not someone but an appealing general idea. The idea of a sexual being he can regard as simply a gorgeous piece of meat and a good time no strings attached. In my interpretation, especially with my reading of Laios’ succubus where even with deep-seated desires negative emotions can be too intense to effectively freeze a victim, I think this doesn’t contradict his character. Relationships have been painful to him in the past, in the succubus scene when his wife gets mentioned his immediate reaction is to yell "Don’t bring her up now!", like with his habit of drinking and as a tallman liking his senses feeling dulled, it’s about not having to feel emotions with how difficult they are to deal with sometimes and just feeling good, or at least not having to think, for a while. If a succubus showcases someone’s ideal connection with an ideal person, then Chilchuck’s is with a pretty person that doesn’t stir any negative memory or drama, someone low stakes and low maintenance that doesn’t require him to manage or talk out feelings because there’s none involved in the first place.

— Once more, wife and family are important! He does long for his family, not only his wife but his daughters, and vice versa. This suggests not only that he wants good relationships with them but that he wants them to be with him, a family life. Far from the cut communication they all more of less have during canon, and perhaps far from their life pre-canon when he worked away from home a significant amount of time. We’ve seen recreations of people by the winged lion before with doppelgangers and monsters (naga), and though he claims he can make satisfying imitations, what we’ve seen is that they base themselves on the best memories of that person, like with Marcille’s dad, or twist behavior to be more pleasant, like Mithrun’s lover (and possibly twist appearances depending on the person’s view of them, but that’s Mithrun analysis). The line does suggest Chilchuck would want his family members as they are in reality and not idealized versions, but the circumstances are chaotic and urgent enough in the scene (and again the lion isn’t fulfilling Chilchuck’s wish but trying to make him content for Laios’) that it could just be the winged lion saying what he needs to to convince him the fastest possible, and like we see with Laios that can crumble to give way to deeper or more complex desires.

On top of that we just have general info on Chil. How does Chilchuck deal with his issues? What does he like to do? He likes alcohol and ignoring his problems. We have to remember there is a split between what someone would consciously wish for and what their soul uncontrollably irrationally craves. As always with Dunmeshi, there’s a narrative of irrational deep-seated desires vs active wants, what you crave vs what you strive for, what you dream of vs what’s actually good for you, the animal vs the human inside you, heart vs mind. Chilchuck craving a harem of hot babes in his fantasies but wanting his family life & wife back again is not mutually exclusive. You may crave becoming a monster and tasting what humans are like a little but still want to save the world & your friends more.

Btw can we adress the irony of him terrified of being the last one alive, of being left by his daughters and wife, of having left and coming back home one day to see everything gone or rampaged, yet not caring about dying of liver failure himself, knowing every time that he enters a dungeon there’s a real risk he may not come out. Die somewhere I can’t see you. I prefer leaving you than being left behind. He’s selfish and shortsighted like that… Chilchuck is selfless in many ways of course, but perhaps also due to his own relationship with his parents, he often undermines the effects he has on others in his relationships, both the good and the bad (he talks himself down about being cowardly and greedy yes, but never hints at his bad health habits, alcoholism and starving himself, may have affected his loved ones, doesn’t question his wife falling into a bad mood the night before she left, and talks about the possibility of dying here and there very casually, though obviously he tries his best to stay alive when it doesn’t concern his health).

Chilchuck king of "Let me just avoid and ignore my problems surely they’ll go away, things might work out and if they don’t well tough luck I’ll survive and I probably deserve it anyways". If I don’t look at it it will dissapear <3 Why care when you can simply not think about it.

You might not understand Mister "my love will stay strong through months of work travel and also 4 years of separation" and Mister "well idk my siblings and me are kinda strangers and my dad is dead but that’s kinda whatever", but typically relationships need some form of maintenance and emotional availability…

The actual headcanons finally

I kinda have 2 routes in mind for dunlord Chil and both of them are centered on "I care too much, i wish things were easy", so first is a lot like his succubi, it’s full on indulging in his guilty pleasures like alcohol and bodies and it’s to keep him in a constant state of thrill and euphoria and distracted, unfeeling about stuff that really matters. "Nothing matters except that I’m enjoying the moment!" vibe. He gets to live a life worthy of Dionysus, with alcohol and women and debauchery and like— never having to think again, never having to feel anything but pleasure again, never have to feel guilty or shitty or angry or sad. He has a harem and gets everything on a silver platter.

Breaking news demon magic-induced rush of euphoria and power still not enough to cure this man of his self-hatred nor his capacity for thought!! But in his case a state of euphoria is what he seeks I think, to kinda mask or replace the Everything Else.

The other is what I think closer to what canon suggests, with what WL implied too with "I’ll make you a new wife and kids like the originals!! 😊", it’s a (spoilers) Wandavision type thing where it’s a slice of life where he’s never at work and always at home and the family eats lunches at the dinner table together and everything and everyone at any moment is just. Happy. No issues. It was all a dream, this is real and everything is fine and your family is perfect and happy. I like to think the timeline would be wonky, his daughters would fluctuate in age, but he’d want to be there for what he missed, would want them to still rely on him and look up to him like when they were young, would like to forget that they’re now independent adults and the distance that grew between Chilchuck and his siblings is happening between them as well. Chil would want doppelgangers of his family imo, at its core just a general wish for a peaceful happy family life with no drama, no need to compromise, a little paradise of unconditional love and no consequences. It’s for sure straightforward, but Chilchuck is a man with straightforward desires…

But see Chilchuck is a greedy man, and he wants it both ways without having to sacrifice anything or expanding any efforts himself. He wants to have his cake and eat it too. I think playing with these two opposite directions and mixing and matching is most fun. Him leading a life where he indulges in all his worst habits while still having everything he wants… Him getting to have BOTH his wife and any woman he can imagine up, his life like two sides of a coin he can flip at any moment where he’s partying then he’s at home enjoying the quiet and his toddler daughters playing with toys on the carpet. Christ when you remember it’s all an illusion that’s terrifying, the doppelgangers and succubi from the winged lion playing chilchuck ping pong.

A safe little haven both security-stability wise and emotionally. Gets to have both the relaxing and the thrilling in any dose he wants, mixed or separatedly. What I’d argue he had pre-canon too: Can live it up in taverns away from home, stays away from home for long periods of time, and can come back to home aka the symbol of relaxation and safety whenever he decides to. Something he can leave and come back to at will, an anchor he can trust in (until it’s taken from him and his wife leaves. Or in his worse nightmare people rush in and kill his daughters). The ideal of a house and family to a working man, perhaps…

I think it’s fun to think on wether or not these desires would be interesting at all to the winged lion… In canon he seeks out "rare/complex desires", common simple things like I imagine riches, sex, substances and pleasure would be are boring to him, he’s eaten those so many times already. So perhaps he wouldn’t last long as a dunlord, the WL would want to eat him fully quick, can’t keep him interested or waiting long for a meager meal, too much effort raising the cattle and too low quality meat. By making it more twisted or layered Chil’s desire would become more desirable to the demon, it’s part of what’s fun with the third option to me. But whatever. Has he ever eaten a guy with this much repression and self-sabotage... Like trying to get the meat out of a walnut, enrichment…

Other dunlord Chil takes I’ve seen that are fun and good:

@feelo-fick and @pluvio-floret have a dunlord Chilchuck AU project dubbed "tragedy AU" where Chilchuck is said to be "on vacation", in a weird delirious state, only half-there half of the time… From which he doesn’t want to wake up </3 Quoting Feelo, this is why the vacation thing is only a half-joke cause he is 1) letting all his responsibilities go 2) indulging in himself and 3) "spending time with his family" <- lie but you get what i mean. Additional comments that have me vigorously nodding: because changing is hard why cant things just be okay right now without the effort !!! Life is hard he’s so so tired he just wants to feel good… he just wants life to feel nice and easy for a sec while he can learn to breathe again and lose the stress and trauma he’s accumulated…….. spoiler alert yes !!! in fact a depressed person can suck themselves into their job and lock out the world who wouldve thought !!!

And then Cabinette I know posted about his dunlord take once but I don’t have the link, in which Chil has a lot of nosebleeds because of mana overload which is fun and interesting to think about imo~

In dunmeshi, where characters get underground pockets of the world as their playground disconnected from everything outside and the rest of the world, it’s important to remember to face reality even if it has conflict and people with different views and stances from you, it’s something Chilchuck and Marcille and everyone needed to learn, and the thing with a dungeon lord AU is that you imagine a timeline where he fails to <3

A timeline where his dungeon lord wish is to desire nothing bc hope and want has only ever hurt him would also go so hard. Very universal thing though I suppose.

… And this is why a Chilchuck-centric Coraline AU is really really interesting and fitting and topical— Ok that’ll go in a separate reblog/post at @Fumiku I need to let this end

[stagefoureddiediaz]

You know what. I’ve realised a massive part of why I dislike tommy so much!

He’s a shape shifter.

Think about it for a moment. We know next to nothing about this dude because he just shifts into whatever role he needs to play for whomever he’s with. We know he was military but have zero context beyond that but it’s implied he was the ‘perfect’ soldier.

Under Gerrard he’s a bigoted misogynistic racist homophobe.

Gerrard leaves and he magically becomes someone who can fit in with the 118 under Bobby.

Leaves the 118 and we don’t know what he’s up to.

Reappears on the scene when the firefam show up at the hangar and becomes what they need him to be in that moment.

Is essentially actively pursuing Eddie but is quick to switch to buck when it’s clear he’s an easier target. Drops buck when bucks not ready with zero explanation but is happy to go along with what buck wants when he calls him.

Man doesn’t have a personality of his own because he just shifts into whatever he needs to be for whoever he needs to be it for.

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

Of my 2% capacity to be attracted to anyone, my type is like 90% women, 5% pretty men and 5% men you would swear are super fucking manly, and never questioned being straight and cis, but are now suddenly *stressed* that they can't figure out why their attraction to me [fully socially interpreted as a woman and labelled that way up until relatively recently] feels incredibly fucking gay

[unproduciblesmackdown]

"winston quant billions: like anyone else, an entire universe" or "the good news is it's just that everyone's been terrible to you, the bad news is it's just that everyone's been terrible to you"

[poniko-w]

been making concepts for magical girl adukin au.. i am forming a semi-consistent plot & having fun.. i might draw some other characters in magical girl outfits even if ive sort of laid out what the "canon" magical girls are for the au, but idk who i would draw.. maybe fusakin and syumitaro because well. ones a balloon with a human body and the other is God

[cobra-creampuff]

musical episode!!!

[cats-in-the-clouds]

my sister got engaged and we’re all really happy for her but my bitter rain cloud of a dad (who naturally she told last) is giving her a bit of passive aggressive grief about it despite her boyfriend being like the best man of our generation (presumably either because he’s not catholic or because my dad sees them as young dumb unemployed people who aren’t ready for marriage or because he’s mad he barely has any real love with his own wife or something). so like pray for us? i wish i knew what to do

[nightingale-prompts]

Lazarus What?!

Phantom pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to take in what he was just told.

"Explain it one more time. I need to know if I got this right." He said his frustration mounted.

They were standing at the edge of the Lazarus pit. The Ghost hero had been searching for wells formed from ectoplasm on this planet.

"We-" Superman spoke first.

"YOU SAW A BIG FUCKING POOL OF OTHERWORLDY GOO AND DECIDED TO SWIM IN IT?!" Phantom exploded.

"Well, it does heal and revive people," Flash said hidden behind Wonder Woman.

"Well that makes it perfectly safe and healthy for you doesn't it," Danny said sarcastically. "It's not safe at all! You people are just tossing corpses into this thing and think it's a miracle that people come out alive! This stuff is a waste pit made from the leakage from my realm!"

"Waste? Like as in-" Clark's face gritted in disgust.

"Not like human waste but still waste. Our bodies take in new ectoplasm and the old tainted stuff flows out. Like a fish breaths with it's gills. The old material tends to collect in different spots like a dump of toxic waste. And you people are bathing in the used materials." Phantom explained.

"And why is it so dangerous." Batman finally spoke up after considering the information.

Phantom sighed.

"The reason why the goop is bad is because it's tainted. As in it has remnants of the ghosts that expel it. When you dump the corpse of a freshly dead person in the goop it melds with the person giving them the ability to persist beyond death and linking them back to their soul. That sounds good, but the soul is now infected with the random assortment of attributes of the ghosts that are in the goop. It won't do much to you though. Barely affecting you in any negative way. Now if you keep putting bodies in the goop you create a big problem as the ectoplasm is invected with the freshly dead's issues. If someone evil, vengeful, or unbalanced is put in the waters parts of them will stay behind. Constantly using the ectoplasm will cause someone to go insane as it corrupts them. If someone dies painfully enough, it will also persist in the ecto and create a revenant. Like an avenging super soldier hellbent on revenge so their soul can rest. The ectoplasm will also become less potent over time, and eventually, the only thing that can come out is zombies." Phantom tried his best to spell everything out like everyone present were idiots.

"That explains many things." Batman said pinching the bridge of his nose.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN! ARE YOU TELLING ME YOU ALREADY DID THAT?!" Phantom was turning red now.

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐈 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ! ❞

❝ I HEARD FROM A FRIEND OF A FRIEND, THAT DICK WAS A TEN OUT OF TEN !! ❞

✧ pairing: jjk au sorcerer! suguru geto x sorcerer! reader

✧ summary: geto's routine after a mission -- ingest the curses that he collects before his shower. but after he does, his body begins to burn and ache with lust to the point of pain -- and he can't get rid of the feeling alone. so what else can he do when you show up at his doorstep offering to help but accept it (aka a sex pollen / aphrodisiac curse fic).

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, so much smut, jjk compliant au, geto stayed a sorcerer and didn't defect, reader is one year younger than geto, (set during jjk s1), aphrodisiac curse (sex pollen), multiple orgasms, multiple positions (missionary, doggy, riding, other positions mentioned: standing, against the wall, spooning from behind, against the wall), masturbation (m), soft dom! geto, oral (m +f), handjob (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, cervix fucking, panty stealing, squirting, mutual pining, a little angst (discussion of star vessel / premature death arc), but a lot of comfort, cuddling, gojo hijinks

✧ wc: 8,180

Suguru was only sure of one thing, as he stared at himself in the mirror — cheeks flushed red, sweat nearly soaking through his black t-shirt, and a painful and glaring problem in his boxers—

This was a curse — literally. 

Curses were made up of different negative human emotions — from loneliness to grief to anger, these negative feelings would pool and create a curse. Sorcerers were made to exorcise these curses, and Suguru did so — but in a different way than the others. He had to consume them as part of his technique. And even with the hundreds of curses he’s swallowed over the years, he would never get used to the taste — a shit soaked rag used to clean up vomit was how he could best describe it, but even then, that didn’t come close to the indescribable act of swallowing the manifestation of the worst negative human emotions — at least for most of them. 

The one he had swallowed today was different — he was sent to exorcise a grade 1 curse in the heart of Tokyo that dwelled in an abandoned building — from the inside, he could tell that it was used as a strip club and possibly a bathhouse-turned-brothel, from the seedy mattresses left behind with dirty sheets and mussed covers, with rusting incense burners placed around the room, and the gaudy, fake jewelry that laid strewn about the place — assumedly any real jewelry picked clean. He swore he could have even smelt the ever lingering scent of cheap perfume in the walls and vents. 

But the greater concern was the curse he had found himself with — a grotesque creature that stared back at him — its body a deep maroon, many eyes dotting its back with a large pair of black lips that Suguru didn’t care to draw any closer to. It was more humanoid than most — its form showing a more sophistication than many curses did, muscles of its many arms contracted as it finally spotted Suguru, its many eyes settled their gaze on him. 

It was far too easy for him to take down the curse in hindsight — far too easy — and it seemed to watch him summon curses — and he swore it almost had seen a glimmer of recognition in its eyes and then it allowed him to deal the final blow. 

He had kept the curse on hand — he could swallow it later, when he was near a toilet and perhaps some mouthwash — though that barely did much to remove the taste from his mouth. He had returned to Jujutsu Tech to do his reports, and hopefully head back early — Satoru was out on another overseas mission and Shoko was busy tending to patients and bodies as always, but you— 

He wasn’t sure what you were doing, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to text you. Not after what Satoru said. 

“When are you guys gonna fuck already?” the strongest sorcerer asked, making Suguru choke on his Sprite  — strong in ability, but not in tact, “you and her have been eye fucking for weeks and you had such a thing for her before she decided to move to Kyoto—” 

“That was years ago—” 

“She has a key to your apartment—“ 

“So do you!” he glares. 

“Then what about last night at the bar?” Satoru leans back in his chair, lifting the front legs off the ground, as he pulled his sunglasses down, “you could have murdered the guy that was hitting on her with your look alone — and I think you did when you stuck yourself to her side with your arm around her waist, until he ran with his tail between his legs,” 

If looks could kill, Suguru would have surely murdered his best friend — infinity be damned, “She looked uncomfortable, what was I going to do—” 

“Well, she certainly didn’t look uncomfortable with you hanging all over her, now did she?” He raises an eyebrow, as he leans forward again, the front legs of his chair landing with a thunk, “what are you gonna do if a guy comes along that she falls for? You’re telling me you’re not gonna regret it, Suguru?” Suguru says nothing, unable to meet Satoru’s gaze, as Satoru crushes his own can into a ball, before tossing at Suguru, “You guys just got to hurry up and fuck,” 

Suguru swats the crushed can away, “You’re disgusting,” 

He grins, as his words seemingly only confirm what he assumes, “Disgusting, but correct, and if I’m right, you’re taking some of my missions off my hands,” he grins. 

And Satoru’s words had been running around in Suguru’s head — just like any annoying song on the radio — but he couldn’t let Satoru’s words stop from hanging out with you. He had just gotten you back in his life again — he couldn’t lose you, not again. 

Geto: Are you free to watch a movie and have takeout? 

You: sounds good - did you get back from your mission alright? No injuries I need to yell at you about? 

He snorts, as he types his reply: no, not this time. 

You: Let’s keep it that way! :) 

He bites back his smile as the two of you decide to have you head over in an hour to his place — you preferred it that way since you were still settling into your place, boxes still unwittingly everywhere there should be actual furniture. Last time he came by to pick a report up, he found you eating your meal on a packed box, instead of a table. 

And he catches himself smiling, before his face sours at the thought of Satoru again. 

Satoru was right — and he hated to admit it, his knuckles pressed to his lips. A year under him, you had spent days with him, along with everyone else — you always waited for  him with his favorite snacks when he would return from a mission. You sat with him sometimes when he would get sick from swallowing curses, helping him swallow some water and saltines after he turned his stomach inside out. You were the one that pushed him when he hid his disillusionment from everyone else — even from Satoru. You wouldn’t leave him alone, you wouldn’t stop dogging his every step with snacks and comfort and company, hounding him to sleep, to eat, to say something, anything. 

Until he did — one late night you spent up together — he didn’t sleep much those days anyway.  And he told you everything — the poison seeping from his body, and leeching onto yours, your frown and hurt was the whole reason he hadn’t wanted to tell anyone to begin with. But the frown wasn’t yourself — it was for him, as your arms only curled around him, and he let you hold him the entire night. 

“You don’t always have to pretend to be strong, Suguru. You’re allowed to be upset, you’re allowed to be angry, you’re allowed to grieve — but don’t bottle it up,” your fingers raked through his wet hair, undoing the tangles gently before running the comb through it, “don’t let it kill you from the inside out,” 

“I feel like I did die — along with Amanai,” and you pause, your arms curled around his shoulders, chin resting on his head before you pinched his cheek and he flinched. 

“There, you’re definitely not dead,” you say, “so don’t act like you are. And don’t act like you’re alone — because you’re not. You have me, you have Satoru and Shoko — even Nanami and—“ you voice cuts off at the thought of Haibara — “Haibara wouldn’t want you to hide from us, he looked up to you — more than anyone else, even Satoru,” 

“I don’t know why,” he mutters with a sigh. 

“I do,” your fingers guide his face to meet your gaze, your face an inch or two from his, “because you’re kind, you’re intelligent, and you’re strong,” 

He scoffs, “Satoru is the strongest,” 

“And you think Satoru thinks any differently of you? That any of us feel differently? You’re the only person who can understand him — and he’s the only one who understands you,” 

He gives a small chuckle, “not the only one,” and he tears his eyes away, hoping you don’t see the way his cheeks burned. 

And when he found those two sorcerer girls locked up — you were the one who called. The rage and anger had built into murderous intent, but he could hear your words ringing in his ears and before he knew it, he had called you to come to him. 

You saved them together — Nanako and Mimiko had fallen asleep in your respective laps after all was said and done on the ride back — without much bloodshed (not that the blood that was shed was worth much, in his opinion) — and with Gojo and you smoothing things over with the higher ups (mostly with veiled threats and petty remarks), you managed to allow the twins to grow up safe, under Geto’s care, and your own. 

At least for a time. After you graduated, Nanami left — and you were the only one of your class left — and the absence of your best friends weighed on you, even if you didn’t show it. 

“I’m leaving for Kyoto,” you told him one afternoon the two of you spent lazing around his dorm, you sat against the bottom of his bed, as he lounged on the mattress, his gaze snapping to you, only able to see the back of your head, “this place holds too many memories — i need perspective, I need space from all of this,” 

He wants to ask if you have to, ask you if he could convince you to stay, if he could do something, anything to make you stay — ask if he wasn’t enough to make you stay. But he doesn’t, because it’s the best decision for you. So he instead slips off the bed, sitting beside you, his hand ruffling your hair, “You’ll come to visit right?” 

He knows you’re blinking back tears, but he pretends not to notice, your lip quivering, and god, he knows he wants nothing more than to tilt your gaze toward him by your chin and brush his lips against yours, until every sad thought has evaporated under his touch. 

But he knows that would only be one more thought that would make things far more difficult — for the both of you. It was better this way. And it was. Years had passed, the two of you had become teachers at the Tokyo and Kyoto schools respectively — but as the years had passed, your relationship grew more distant, as it always seemed to with time and distance. 

But then you decided to come back to Tokyo, transferred over — Yaga explaining it was due to all the happenings in Tokyo with the special grades and emergence of Yuji as Sukuna’s vessel — and he found himself in your presence again. And it was as if no time had passed — your days off spent in his apartment — as yours had become a haven of unpacked boxes. And he couldn’t help but wonder — when he’d glance at you in the dark of his living room, the only illumination was the TV that played some shitty horror movie (your words not his) you had put on — if the special grades were the only reason you’d come back. Your fingers were so close to each other’s on the couch, but an inch felt like a ravine. 

One he couldn’t dare to cross. 

But It was fine, just as he told Satoru — you were just friends, until both of you decided otherwise. Not that it would ever happen — no, he thought that ship had sailed, even if his heart had stubbornly said that it hadn’t. 

Until he decided to consume the curse — and his heart was no longer the problem. 

Or at least, not his main problem. 

He sat in his bathroom, towel in the shower rack, ready to shower after he dealt with this. He had discarded his uniform jacket and pants — only in a black t-shirt and boxers. He stood by the toilet — as he learned his lesson the first few months swallowing curses — he never knows when one will turn his stomach inside out. 

He holds the balled curse in his palm — he could feel it squirm just underneath of his cursed energy — the thing keeping it contained at all, itching to be freed from his grasp — though it never would. He pressed the ball to his lips, bracing himself as he opened his mouth, nearly having to unhinge his jaw for how large this curse was and pressing it past his lips and into his mouth. His palms pressed against his mouth, as he swallowed, eyes squeezed shut. 

It…wasn’t as bad as he thought. He frowned, brow knit as he stared at his empty palm — it was still appalling to consume, but it was….sweet? But it burned as it went down, heat remaining in the pit of his stomach, even as it should have faded. 

That should have been his first clue. 

Either way, he turned on the shower before he shed the rest of his clothes, and stepped in. The water felt warmer than usual, as he washed his body first, letting his hair grow wet under the shower head. His fingers reached for the shower handle, turning it even colder, but his body barely reacted to the water — was it even cold? 

Even under the water, he felt like his body was burning — a slow fire that lingered under the surface of his skin, burning and aching, the frigid water barely doing enough to soothe it. Running his hands over his body seemingly helped, a shiver running down his spine as he washed himself, but he knew it would have felt even better if it was you. 

….what? He tried to shake that thought from his head — it wasn’t the first time he had thought of you like this. There were many times where his mind would drift to you at night, the warmth of your touch from a few hours ago still lingered, as his hard-on pleaded for his touch. Guilty gnawed at his conscious when he indulged, the first time being after a particularly vivid dream of you pinning him down while training — your mouth kissing down his body, eager fingers tugging at his shorts until that smirk met—

This wasn’t helping. 

The burning had traveled southward, as his blood did, and he glanced down at his raging hard-on. 

Fuck. 

No, he couldn’t. 

But his fingers were possessed, already reaching for his aching cock, large beads of pre-cum leaving his slit just as hand closed around it. He hisses when he does, a gasp ripped from his throat, as he braces himself against the shower wall with his other hand. 

He palms his erection, swallowing thickly, as he grunts, as he begins to pump his cock from base to tip, smearing his pre along his length. But his mind wanders to you, how pretty you’d look pressed against the wall of his shower, his hard cock dragging between your ass. Lovely moans parting your lips as his fingers would reach around to rub at your puffy clit. 

“Suguru, please—“ 

“Tell me what you want baby, gotta use your words,” he’d murmur, teasing your slick entrance with the tip of his cock. 

“Need your cock — need you to fuck me,” you would whine, words nearly enough to make him bust there and then. And he would sink into you just as he does his fist, but your sweet cunt would feel so much better than his hand does. 

Fucking wet and tight and just for him, as he works his dick deeper and deeper, until his tip is nudging your cervix. And he’d fuck you hard, just like he’s fucking his fist now, skin slapping each time his hips met your ass. 

You’d cum before he would, he would make sure of it — one hand rubbing harshly at your clit, the other toying with one of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. And your walls would squeeze and wring him dry, just as he squeezed his own dick now. 

He spilled all over the wall of his shower, white spurts kept coming, as he grunted, imagining he was painting your walls instead. He panted, but as the afterglow ebbed away, the heat only came back tenfold. 

He panted, as his fingers left his cock, only to find it still hard — the tip red and angry, twitching as he stared back at it. 

What the fuck is going on? 

He finally left the shower, pulling on his shirt and boxers delicately — every inch of his body felt feverish and sensitive, even the rubbing of his clothes against his skin was almost too much for him. 

He stood in front of the sink, knuckles white against the porcelain as he tried to will his erection away, but each thought was only chased away with thoughts of you — of the dress you loved to wear riding up, of your legs spreading for him, of the wet patch on your panties— 

He was so fucked. Sweat dripped into the sink, as he glanced at himself in the mirror — skin a ruddy red flush, lips impossibly dry, pupils blown out with need — he was so fucked. 

He called Shoko — the embarrassment of this situation far gone at this point fading into plain need of wanting this situation to be over. One ring, two rings — finally five rings and she picks up. 

“It’s not like you to call—“ 

“I need your help,” he cuts her off, biting back the groan from his cock rubbing against his boxers the wrong way — “I don’t know what’s happening to me,” 

Her voice shifts from curiosity to concern, “Slow down, Suguru, tell me what’s going on,” and he tells her his symptoms — and she’s silent on the other line for a moment, “you have been a teenage boy before right? You’re not really calling me because you’re horny and you don’t know what to do—“ 

“It’s not that—“ he hisses, running a slow hand down his face, “I already tried…solving the problem myself but it didn’t work. And I feel weird — it only made it worse. I can’t stop sweating or thinking about—“ he cuts off — he couldn’t stop lewd thoughts of you from springing before his eyes, the thoughts of your moans, how soft your flesh would be under his fingers, how you’d look when he— “what is this, Shoko?” 

She pauses on the line for a moment, “When did it start?” 

“Right before my shower I think,” his mind foggy with need, he could barely even comprehend a coherent thought. 

“And what did you do before your shower? Anything different?” he’s swallowing the lump in his throat, as he resists the urge to brush his hand over his hard-on. 

He’s barely hearing Shoko at this point — “I took off my clothes, I got my towel, and then I—“ and the realization struck him — the curse, “I consumed the curse I collected today from my mission,” he mutters, “fuck—“ 

And then there’s a knock at the door, “Suguru?” He heard you call through the door. His dick throbs at the sound of your voice. 

Shoko’s voice cuts through the white noise, “Suguru, the curse you ate — was there something different about it?” 

“It was a grade one — it seemed a little too easy to defeat — it formed in—“ he swallows thickly, “in a brothel,” 

“I’ve heard of curses being lustful, but not of them becoming a stimulant,” she murmurs, and he can hear her sigh, “you could try extracting the curse from your body — I doubt that would be effective at this point. I assume the effects will linger until the symptoms pass — just as it does when you become nauseous or sick from swallowing other curses,” 

His phone buzzed with texts from you: 

You: I’m outside, I grabbed takeout for us this time since you always treat me! 

You: are you home? 

His mind swam, it wasn’t the takeout he was craving — it was you. But no, no — he couldn’t. Not like this, but he was fighting a losing battle and he just about lost the war along with it. 

“I don’t know, how do I get it to pass?” he was desperate, the sounds of your knocks and messages ringing in his ear, along with your sweet voice — why do you sound so good with his name on your lips? So sweet — his boxers grow even tighter — bet you even taste even sweeter. 

“If dealing with it yourself didn’t work, then,” she sighs, “you’re going to need a partner,” 

Another knock. 

“Shoko, I have to go,” and he hangs up before she can get another word — a thought to thank her and apologize shoved to the back of his mind, as he stumbles to his door, a thunk as he nearly tumbled into it, wood and hinges groaning under the force and weight. 

“Suguru?” you’re so worried yet his name on your tongue was nearly enough to have him cumming in his boxers then, the wet patch of his boxers nearly making the fabric translucent, “are you okay?” 

He says your name, “You should go home, I’m not feeling well—“ 

“What’s wrong? Do you need help?” And he’s biting his lip, teeth digging into his bottom lip, nearly drawing blood, “let me in,” 

“I can’t—I can’t let you help with this,” he’s shaking his head, “please, sweetheart, you have to go—“ And he hears the clink of your key going into the door — fuck, that goddamn key he gave you, and the door pulls open, just as he braces himself against the doorframe. 

Your brow furrowed in concern, takeout bag in hand, as your eyes examined him, until they found their way to his boxers. 

“Suguru—“ 

“You should leave — I can’t explain, there’s a curse inside me—“ 

Your eyebrows knit together, “Suguru, a curse did this to you? What happened?” And he’s shaking his head, mind far too gone, as he forces himself away, “let me help—“ 

“You can’t help. I have to get out of my system but the only way is—“ he cuts off, as he groans again, body and mind railing against each other, as his body just seemingly burns from even being near you. 

“There must be something—“ and you step closer, and he can barely hold back from grabbing you, fingers twitching to wrap around your waist, the other holding your neck, lips finding yours, as he fucking rips his own clothes off— “I want to help—“ 

He’s tugging at the collar of his shirt incessantly, as you step closer, closing the gap between your bodies, and he can only focus on the way your pretty lips part, the way your chest curves under your shirt, and the far too short shorts you choose to wear — fuck. 

He was so fucked. 

He can’t hold back, as he’s drawing close to you in a moment, his mind clouded with lust, the hitch of your breath only making him want you more — but he forced every muscle in his body to stop.  He couldn’t. Not until you agreed. 

“If you don’t want me to fuck you right now,” he says lowly, his lips nearly brushing your ear, “I want you — regardless of this, I’ve wanted you for so long,” the confession tumbles from his lips because he needs you to know, needs you know so you can either leave him to his fate or help him get through this, “but if you don’t feel the same—“ 

But to his surprise, you lean closer, breath warming his skin until it was left scalding, “who said I didn’t?” 

And he can’t hold back. 

His lips crash to yours, his hands holding your cheeks, as he grasps desperately to you, takeout boxes spilling from the plastic bag and your purse spilling your things when you drop it, your fingers grasping at his damp t-shirt. 

And your touch alone even through the fabric is nearly enough to make him bust a nut there and then — and his mind hadn’t even felt so clear until he felt your touch. He could notice every little detail about you — the way your breath caught when his fingers ghosted down your sides, the way your lips parted for his tongue without hesitation, and the way your knees shook when he squeezed your hips. 

“So pliant for me,” he murmurs, eager to touch more, to taste more, “such a good fucking girl, aren’t you?” 

And you’re nodding wordlessly — lips kiss ruined and red, saliva clinging to your lips when he parted from your lips — and he wonders which one of you swallowed a glorified sex curse. 

“Know how long I wanted to do this?” words said pressed with heated kisses down your neck — he was right, you tasted so sweet, he bet another part of you tasted even sweeter — “how many times I thought about this?” He nibbled at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, rewarded with a pretty gasp, “wanted to mark you up so many times — when that fucker tried to hit on you — I wanted to do more than just wrap my arm around you. Wanted to show him how he could never please you,” and he’s sucking a mark there, teeth grazing and pinching your skin before he soothes it with his tongue. He smiles against your skin, as he admires his handiwork. 

You whine when he drags a thumb down your puffy lips, “Sugu, please, more,” and his lips find yours again, swallowing your complaints and moans eagerly, as his large palms slide down your back to rest on your ass, squeezing as he presses you flush to his body, hard on pressed against your body. 

“Need my touch that much, Princess? Should’ve just fucked you in that club, huh? Let them see that you’re mine,”  And he’s walking you backwards towards his room, as he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it onto the floor of his living room. Your fingers running over his exposed flesh, thumbs teasing his sensitive nipples, pretty little lips pressing teasing kisses to both sides. 

Fuck, the need to bury his cock in you grew by the second. But he wanted to feel good first — been waiting too long. He had all night to fuck you — but he only had one time to do it right the first time. 

He’s walking you into the edge of his bed, as you both tumble onto the bed, his hands sliding under your shirt, tugging at the hem, and you help him take it off — and he hissed at the sight of nothing underneath. 

“Were you always coming to my place with no bra on?” his lips curl, as your eyes look away, embarrassment painted on your expression, “wanted this as long as I did, Princess? Don’t get so shy now — you’re the one who insisted on helping me, so aren’t you going to fulfill your promise?” His lips brush against your earlobe, lips wrapping around it and sucking lightly. 

You shiver, biting your lip, before you’re tugging him fully onto the bed, before slinking off of it and onto your knees for him, “Then let me help you,”

When your fingers toy with the elastic of his boxers, he’s ready to cum right there — he’s so sensitive still, he’s sure he won’t last long, but fuck, he doesn’t care with how pretty you look between his legs. 

“Don’t be a tease, Princess, or I’ll pay you back later,” but your lips only curl, as you lean forward and press a kiss through the drenched fabric, tip of your tongue teasing his slit through his boxers.

“Oh I expect you to,” and you’re pulling his boxers down painfully slowly, letting the fabric of his boxers rub against his hard-on teasingly, a low hiss leaving the thin line of his lips, his balls aching with his release as his cock slaps against his stomach, “fuck, Sugu,” you murmur in almost reverence — he was thick, the tip flushed red with lovely beads of pre-cum already dripping down his length, your fingers already eager to trace those pretty veins, and feel the slight curve of his cock in your aching cunt, “how am I gonna fit you all in me?” 

And his cock twitches at your words, as you pity him with a chaste kiss to the top, “Please,” he swallows, adam’s apple bobbing, fingers knuckles white as they fisted the now creased sheets, “fuck—“ as you blow air along his length, “I’ll cum all over your face at this rate,” 

“Oh I think you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Sugu?” your point finger lightly follows the trail of his vein, as your lips continue to press butterfly kisses along his length, “paint my face with your cum,” 

And his fingers thread themselves in your hair, pressing his length to your lips, and you smirk, looking up at him with half lidded gaze, as your lips part and his length slides in — that’s all it takes. 

The coil in his stomach snaps, as he cums down your throat, hot seed spilling into your mouth, as his hips jerk against your mouth, his groans of your name sending a hot stripe of heat down to your cunt. 

Despite that, his cock only seems to grow larger, twitching against your tongue, as you part for a moment, a trail of saliva and cum dripping from your lips, “Taste so good, Sugu — gotta have you one more time—“ you envelop him with your lips again — and he’s a mess of moans, head thrown back, thick haze of lust as his eyes finally meet yours. You swallow around him, tongue wrapped around his length, as your sinful fingers touch whatever can’t fit in your mouth. 

“S’good baby, should’ve fucked this mouth a long time ago,” and he’s gone, as his hips begin to slowly roll against you, watching as you don’t resist, the tip of his cock brushing against your throat, “good fucking girl, never gonna go a day without these lips around my cock,” and god, he’s so close — twitching in your mouth, but what sends him over the edge is when he feels you moan, and spots your hand down your shorts. 

Fuck, he’s pulling out, “can I—“ and you pump him in response, a grunt of your name as you let him cum all over your face and chest, the sight enough to make him hard all over again — his thick release slipping down your lips, as your tongue darts out to taste it again. 

And he’s pulling you into a bruising kiss, tasting his own cum on your lips, before grabbing his discarded shirt to clean you off. His hand grabs your wrist and eases it from inside your cunt, tongue darting out to lick the release from your fingers, cleaning each of them. 

In an instant, he’s got you spread on his bed, legs parted for him, “where’s that attitude now, pretty?” And his lithe fingers sneak under the elastic of your panties and snaps it against your skin, making you squirm, “seems like all those words fell out of your head just from sucking my cock,” 

He’s slowly dragging your underwear down, before pulling at his bedside drawer to stuff your panties in, “for later use,” and you can’t managed a reply before his lips are pressing butterfly kisses up your thighs, before his teeth graze the soft flesh of your inner thigh, drawing a gasp from your lips, before sucking and soothing it with his tongue, “mine, all mine,” he’s already hard again — the feel of your soft skin under his lips was enough to have him cumming again like a virgin — the burning in the pit of his stomach only burned brighter for you — god, would he ever work his way out of this state? But as his gaze was met with your lovely dripping cunt with your puffy clit begging him for attention, he couldn’t seem to care. 

You hiss when his fingers slowly spread your folds, “So fucking tight, baby, how am I gonna fit in you?” he clicks his tongue, inhaling, as his nose brushes against your clit, making your hips jump, “patience, gotta take my time with this princess cunt, gotta make sure you’re ready for me,” his dick twitching at his next sentence, “because I sink my cock in here, we’re not stopping at one round,” 

Your cunt squeezes around nothing at his words, his breath warming your sensitive pussy, until he finally drags a stripe up your needy folds. 

“Sugu, fuck,” his arms brace your thighs and hips down, as the tip of his tongue drags teasing circles around your clit, your slick gathering on his tongue, as he tastes it with a groan. 

“Fucking, the best thing I’ve tasted,” and as much as he wants to bury his dick in you, he could live with his face between your thighs, “so perfect f’me,” and his tongue trails in tight circles around your clit, while his finger toys with your entrance, gathering your pre on his finger, teasing your entrance and delighting in the way your breath hitches. 

He looks up at your face between half lidded eyes, you’re too fucking pretty — your hair a mess from, a sheen of sweat on your body, the lovely way your nipples were erect, and your eyes — pupils lost to lust and need. And all for him. 

Fuck, he knows he won’t last long at this rate, he can already feel the urge to palm his raging cock, but he wants you to cum first, and he’s sinking a finger into your sweet cunt. He can almost imagine how your walls would feel fluttering around his cock — but he doubts his engorged tip would be even fit right now. 

No, he needed to make this good for you — he slowly starts to finger fuck you as his tongue circles your clit in tighter circles, even sucking on it, and by the way your fingers grasped at the sheets, crumpling under your touch — you liked it. 

Pretty moans left your lips, as your fingers found their way to his dark locks, still slightly damp from his shower — as he added a second finger inside. His name said between pants, as his fingers drag against your molten insides — the wet squelch rang in his ears as he fucked your cunt open. Knuckle deep in your sweet pussy, he knows he’s addicted — to the feeling of your molasses insides — warm and soft for him, his digits curling against your walls, looking for that one place that would make you fall apart. 

“Sugu, please, please ‘m close—,” and he knows you need a little more, and he’s obliging with a chuckle, a third finger joining the other two, and he’s fucking you in earnest now — lips closing around your clit and sucking mercilessly, as his fingers find that spongy spot that has you seeing stars. Your back arches, as your nails dig into his scalp, as you cum around his fingers — walls fluttering as he eats you out through your high, his name leaving your lips again and again, as you slowly come down from your high, thighs twitching and chest heaving as you do. 

As he finally pulls away, his chin and mouth glossy and drenched in a mixture of your cum and his spit — that he licks clean from where his tongue can reach, fingers collecting the rest, as he looks at your sticky cum gathered on his fingers. 

Fuck, he could live in your cunt. Your sweet taste was the only thing he’d crave now after consuming curses — he wondered if you’d let him eat you out for hours after the curses he ate — he was sure your taste was the only thing that would erase that disgusting like nothing else ever would. 

He’s giving you soft kisses after, dotting them up your body, murmuring praises, but you’re pulling him into a kiss, your fingers resting against the back of his neck, as your other hand finds his aching erection, swallowing his gasp with pleasure. 

“Want you, Sugu, please,” and your words are enough to make him cum right there, as he tugs your hand away, “Sugu—” 

“Won’t last long if you keep touching me and whining like that, Princess,” the heat only seems to lick at his skin like flames, engulfing him with every touch, and his cock was the epicenter of the wildfire, while you were the fuel that only made it consume you both to ash, “but I know it won’t be long until I’m fucking you again anyway,” Your cunt throbs at his words, as he draws close, dragging his weeping tip against your folds, watching his pre-cum smear against your slick with a grunt, “feels like you’re already trying to swallow me up, princess — you want this cock that bad?” fuck, he can’t hold back anymore, as he’s lining up himself up, and he’s sliding right into you with a groan, “know how long been waiting to do that?” his skin meeting yours as he bottoms out deliciously, stretching your walls out with his girth, pleasure ripping up your spine, “wanted to do this since the moment you walked through the door, but needed to do this right — when nothing about this was right,” he had so many things to say, while your mind had left you with not even a syllable, his cock twitched and pulsed inside your walls, dragging against it deliciously, “wish our first time wasn’t like this — but I’m so glad it’s finally happened, sweetheart,” 

And you can’t help but smile up at him, lips parted with a small moan, as tears burned at your eyes from his size, “Me too, Sugu, wanted you for so long, needed you—” and he’s kissing your tears and words away with his lips, 

Then he begins to fuck you — hard, the slapping of your skin and the wet squelch of your sex filling up most of the silence of the room, while both of your moans and grunts took up the rest. Your cunt was heaven to him — warm, wet walls wrapped around his aching cock — the slightest bit of relief was overcome with waves and waves of need — he needed to fuck you, needed to make you cum, needed to cum inside — he just needed you. 

“S’big, Sugu, too big,” you whine, he was almost too much for you, the way his dick fucked places you only could imagine reaching, as his mouth leaned down to take a pert nipple between his lips — sucking and licking, as he couldn’t have enough of you, while his hand toyed with the other, “feels too good,” 

“I know baby, gonna fuck your princess cunt so good — make sure its made just for me,” he’s murmuring, as his teeth graze your tit, as he pistons into you again and again, the tip of his cock brushing your cervix with each thrust, “all mine, baby, fuck — such a good girl for me,” and the praise has you keening against him, the knowing flutter of your cunt that tells him you’re all too close to the edge, as his hand reaches between your bodies to rub at your clit, “cum for me, pretty, need to feel your pretty little cunt squeeze me,” 

And you do, falling apart as he fucks you through your orgasm, again and again — fuck, you felt so good, as he watched his cock slip in and out of you, a white ring of your release forming around his base. He’s fucking close too — can feel his balls tense, eager to blow his load, “where—” 

You’re still moaning, eyes blown out in pleasure, as you watch him fuck you again and again, “Inside, Sugu, fill me up,” and that’s it, he’s gone — spurting his hot release, painting your walls, as he does, fucking it inside you — deeper, deeper, until he stills for a moment. And you’re twitching, eyes fluttering shut, when he pulls out, a groan parting his lips as he watches his seed spill from your cunt. 

But then silence for several moments, the soft pants of your breathing only, before you hear him swearing and grunting, as your eyes open, and your pussy twitches at the sight before you. Suguru’s hand slid up and down his still erect cock, his eyes squeezed shut, as he groaned, “Suguru—” 

“Wasn’t enough, need more,” he’s shaking his head, as his fingers squeeze around the base of his cock, “thought it would be enough to cum with you, but I can still feel it—” and he’s groaning, as you sit up, watching your mixed releases drip from you, “baby—” 

And your lips kiss the tip of his weeping cock, “I told I’d help you,” and you ease his hand away, as you lick up his length, your eyes fixed on his, “just because we fucked, doesn’t mean we’re done,” 

And in a moment, he’s got you flipped onto your hands and knees, as his cock slaps against your ass, his fingers squeezing the flesh, as he leans over to kiss your back, “Then I guess we’re gonna be up all night, sweetheart, because if you’re okay with this — I don’t think I’ll be satisfied with just a blowjob,” his tip drags against your messy cunt, “gonna need something a little tighter than your mouth,” and he’s sinking his thick cock into you again, balls slapping against your ass as he begins to fuck you, “better cancel any plans you have, pretty — because we’re not leaving this bed for a while.” 

“Don’t fall asleep on me, baby,” his fingers grab your chin, and force you to meet his gaze, as he fucks into you, as you sit on his lap, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders, “almost gonna cum, and don’t want you to be asleep for it,” 

How many times had you fucked? You had lost count — but you knew you had done it in far too many positions — on your hands and knees, standing up, against the wall, from behind with his hand gripping your leg up, and far too many others — and now you were spread in his lap, cock deep in your pulsing pussy, his lips kissing your neck, as he fucked into you, his dick reaching a deeper angle from this position, easily able to hit the furthest parts of you. 

He had cum in you more than you thought was humanly possible — and you supposed it wasn’t — it was only the curse that enabled this — it was animalistic even, the way he rutted into you desperately. He grabbed a water bottle only to take a swig, and find your lips again, forcing you to swallow the water. 

“Good girl,” he’s grunting, his hips beginning to stutter, “I’m close baby, are you?” You hadn’t thought it was still possible to feel pleasure at this point, but it was — his cock dragged against your walls, his dark gaze finding yours, “tell me you wanna cum,” and your pussy twitches at his order, “use your words, pretty, or have I fucked them all out?” 

“Please, Suguru, I wanna cum on your cock,” and you’re so fucking close again — the all too familiar knot in your stomach ready to snap any moment. 

“Fuck, greedy pussy hasn’t enough of me? We’ve been fucking until the daylight now,” as his hand grabs your chin to make you see the first rays of light peaking over the horizon, and he’s making you bounce on him with each thrust of his dick — your orgasm building and building with every brush of his tip against your g-spot, “fuck, s’good for me, baby — been so good — just need one more and we can stop,” and tears stream down your cheek that only make him groan, his lips finding yours in a messy, sloppy kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth right as his cock hits at the deepest part of you— 

And you squirt all over him, drenching his cock and lap as you cum, your lips parting from him, as your head is thrown back, boneless, as he fucks into you, your spasming walls pulling him over the edge as he paints your insides with his release, fucking it into you, until he finally slows, your body draped on his, head resting on his shoulder. Bodies sticky with sweat and cum, his cock finally softens inside you, the heat finally beginning to dull, as he presses soft kisses and gentle caresses to every inch of your skin, as he lays you down carefully, pulling himself from you. 

“Thank you, princess, thank you,” and you’re burying your face in the crook of his neck, soft breaths cooling the sheen of sweat on his skin, “did so good for me,” and he slowly rises, grabbing his shirt and running it under water to clean you off, if only a little. 

You’re already half asleep, eyes only fluttering half open to watch him, and he can’t help but bite his lip,  “Sugu?” 

“Yes, princess?” And you nod, fingers twitching for him, and his lips curl as he obliges, wrapping you up in his body, “know it was rough on you baby, I’ll make it up to you — don’t worry, just rest,” he grabs a water bottle, and lifts your head ever so slightly and helps you drink some water. 

“I know you want to ask me something,” and he pauses, as he pulls the bottle away, “I can see the gears grinding in your head — you can ask me anything, y’know,” you had quite the way of embarrassing him, didn’t you? 

“I know, I just,” he swallowed, “was there any other reason you came back to Tokyo, aside from the threats, did you come back for anything else?” 

And your lips curl, raising an eyebrow knowingly, “Anything or anyone you mean?” and you chuckle when his eyes can’t meet yours, your fingers finding his again, “baby,” and your hand brushes against his cheek, tracing the cut of his jaw, making his breath catch, “I did come back for someone — a very particular someone,” and he smiles, as your lips lean up to press a chaste kiss to your lips, “and my friends, of course,” you add, “I love Utahime, but I missed Shoko and Satoru, and you,” 

“You did?” he murmurs, and you giggle, kissing him again, melting into his touch again, as your foreheads brushed against the other’s, “Sugu?” and it’s your turn to ask something now, chewing on your bottom lip, “can we do this again?” you murmur, before adding, “not like this but—“ 

And he laughs, pulling you impossibly closer, lips finding your leaping pulse, “Yes, we can, if you want to — because I know I do, because,” his thumb brushing the length of your cheek, “but I want all of you — want your body, your thoughts, your time, your heart and soul—“ and his lips quirk at the sight of your eyes widening ever so slightly, “is that okay?” 

And your lips find his own as an answer, sweet kisses turn languid, heat stealing any doubts from either of your minds, “As long I have yours as well,” and the two of you share only a few more kisses, before you both finally drift off. 

“If he’s fine, and I’m checking on him, I’m kicking his ass,” Satoru grumbled, as he held his phone between his cheek and his shoulder, Shoko sighing as he rooted through his pockets for his keys. 

Shoko chewed her lip, she hadn’t heard from him in hours, “He was in bad shape, I can't find the time to go check and you were on your way home anyway,” Shoko says, wiping her brow, twisting a strand of her hair between her fingers. 

“Yeah, on my way home back from a mission,” he finally finds his keys, sticking Suguru’s spare key into the lock and turning it, “If I have jet lag, and all I find is him jerked off and sleeping, you owe me,” 

He twists the knob, and looks — he doesn’t see Suguru in the living room or kitchen — but he does see takeout containers spilled on the floor, along with a very familiar bag, and he blinks, before his lips curl. He asks if she’s heard from you, to which she says no, 

He walks silently to Suguru’s bedroom, opening the door a crack to see you and Suguru curled up against each other, your head on his chest, his arm wrapped around you, the comforter strewn about and covering the rest of your bodies. 

Satoru only grins, before he pulls his phone from his ear and switches to the camera. 

“Never mind, Shoko, I owe you one,” and he snaps a picture of the two of you, wondering how many missions he could pawn off to Suguru now, “I’ll treat you to lunch.” 

✧ a/n: so this turned out way longer than i thought (story of my life). i had so much fun writing this - i've been writing this in conjunction with prof geto part 3 and its been funny darting back and forth between these two -- although the scenes i've been writing

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