#the last of these for now! i have been exorcised ^^
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a few more contemplative FR memes just in case any of y'all managed to escape getting an existential crisis from this franchise yet
Bonus (Let Ethan Hunt Retire propaganda):

textpost sources: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7, image descriptions below the cut ->
[ID 1: Screencap of Benji under a bookshelf screaming with effort. the overlaid textpost says "the thing about living with mental illness for decades is that occasionally your brain will be like hey you're useless and should kill yourself and your only real reaction is cmon man right now i'm in the middle of something".]
[ID 2: Screencap of Gabriel peeking through a set of iron bars. the overlaid tweet says "soooooo humiliating to be destroyed by madness when you're not even one of the best minds of your generation".]
[ID 3: Screencap of Luther and Ethan hugging, with the camera positioned over Ethan's shoulder so we only see Luther's smiling face. the overlaid tweet says ""you never know what you have until you lose it" is amateur hour. real sufferers know exactly what they have and that they are going to lose it".]
[ID 4: Screencap of Ethan framed between elevator doors, wearing handcuffs and flanked by two soldiers. the overlaid textpost says "so much of being an okay person is just 1) not panicking, 2) not taking things personally, and 3) not letting the vindictive gargoyle that lives in your head tell you what to do. this sucks because brains love doing those things".]
[ID 5: Screencap of Paris holding a knife up, a hesitant expression on her face. the overlaid comments say "the hands that cradled your face and tilted it upwards to kiss your forehead are soaked in unfathomable quantities of blood." "But they cradled me, yes?".]
[ID 6: Screencap of Ethan standing in a faceless crowd with the focus drawn to him so everyone else is blurry. the overlaid textpost says "me when the character has a uniquely fucked mindset. me when the character's fundamental views of how the world works lead to them being hurt and/or hurting others and not seeing the problem with this. me when the character is a little freak who does weird shit because their beliefs, inspired entirely by their environment, are fuckeddddd".]
[ID 7: Screencap of Ethan standing in a field with his back to the camera, looking out at some mountains in the distance with helicopters flying in to meet him. the overlaid textpost says "if it all goes to shit for real i can always run away to a small town in the mountains and start over (delusional)".]
#mission impossible#mi8 spoilers#mi final reckoning spoilers#benji dunn#ethan hunt#mi gabriel#luther stickell#mi paris#renegadecreations#textpost edit#the last of these for now! i have been exorcised ^^
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if the lot of you ever want to see my rendition of poe///craft you have to be cool with me giving zero shits about anatomically correct tentacles.
#if it triggers someone's trypophobia‚ good.#(i'm kidding‚ i'll tag it)#fucking shout-out to @irritablepoe tho‚ courtesy visit has been going cycle after cycle in the mental washing machine for months now#to the point that i had to resort to exorcising the demon by drawing fanart of a ship that has never crossed my mind before then#guess i actually have to participate in rarepair fest for real now :/#that's the last piece i need to finish and free day is a wash anyway#if i don't skip it i'll post something i already have in stock#howling from the shadow realm
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They're in love, your honor.
Some tastefully-blocked spice under the cut. :3c
Shep is The service top of all time.
#Amare#Teshep'ya#I think I blocked that last one enough to not get a hand slap#We'll see#xD#And now that the posing demons have been exorcised#I can get back to MSQ
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I finally organized the desk in the living room with my stuff!!!
#I can finally leave the dining table#I got rid of all the stuff from [redacted]#it feels like its been exorcised#rip to it though now it’s full of my stuff#I didnt realize I had that much stuff for my journaling#that’s what happens when you can’t throw stuff#but you also take ages to do even one page#I barely did anything last year#I hope this year I’ll fill it faster#I have two actually one for my travels one for usual days
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𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 🩸
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞!𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡: 4.4k
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖, 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐯𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐧𝐨𝐧-𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐚𝐮, 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐚𝐮 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐬𝐭
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Kinktober 2024 || I know it’s late! But better late than never right👻 Thank you all for your patience and understanding! Especially after skipping 2 fics😭 but I think for my first kinktober I didn’t do too shabby (I hope). Thank you to my beta readers as always🤍 ART by aransmind on X
𝐈 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬

“Should we have a safe word?”
“What, are you scared?”
Your heart pounded in your chest as you ran down a hallway. The loud creaky floorboards drowned out by the deafening buzzing trailing behind your every step.
Damn your boyfriend and his unlimited amount of curses.
Suguru had been chasing you around this dusty abandoned house for 20 minutes now. He managed to surprise you with what seemed like an unlimited amount of 3 and 4 grade level curses to slow you down. But it didn’t slow you down much; you were a special grade sorcerer too. Despite the rules of this game being that you could only use a cursed tool to defend yourself or exorcise curses.
Only now, as the swarm of fly heads chased you down the hallway with only a cursed blade, you wondered if maybe you were playing into Suguru’s plan by catching you at the end of the hall. The thought of him there waiting to pounce on you did much to remind you of the burning ache that begged for attention since you two had started this little chase.
But no, you couldn’t give up now. Not after 20 minutes, and the aphrodisiac that you and Suguru had taken together were barely kicking in. You were only just starting to feel that familiar neediness at your core, and you wondered if Suguru was beginning to get just as horny as you were.
You see the corner coming up, and you take a quick glance back at the fly heads chasing after you. Seeing them even closer on your heels than before, but you didn’t want to get caught just yet. So in the last second, you hit the floor to let the fly heads continue to fly over your head—successfully avoiding them.
“Damn it.” You hear a low, skin-prickling inducing voice grumble out, and you knew your hunch had been right. You laugh, sitting up on your heels as Suguru rounded the corner. He stepped out from the shadows, his Ghost Face mask strapped to the side of his face gleamed in the dim light filtering through the dusty windows. His expression was mostly neutral, but his gaze was piercing.
Suguru stalked forward, his movements slow and deliberate, almost predatory.
“Impressive," he said, his voice low and smooth. "But you can't run forever, angel."
He stopped short a foot away, looking down at you. “You know, when you suggested this, I thought you were crazy," he continued, his gaze raking over your form appreciatively.
"But now I’m thinking that I must be even crazier to understand the thrill."
He paused, tilting his head as if considering his next move. "You and I are a match made in hell.”
Suguru took another step forward and bent down to your level, his hand reaching out as if to caress your cheek. "How long do you think you will keep this up?"
You batted his hand away, not missing the clench in his jaw despite the smirk on his face. You knew how badly he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. You grinned, taking the fabric of his black shirt and pulling him closer. He bites his lip in anticipation, his lust-filled violet eyes dropping to your mouth and back up half-lidded.
Oh yeah, he was definitely feeling the effects of the aphrodisiac now.
You didn’t get a chance to see if he was hard when he was stalking towards you, but by the way he was looking at you, and the way he was breathing rather unsteadily right now told you that he wanted you. He needed you.
“If you want me that badly,” your lips graze over his. The cinnamon smell of his breath coaxing you in like he was putting a spell on you. You wanted to taste the inside of his mouth.
“You’re going to have to catch me first. Those are the rules, Suguru.”
He didn’t have time to react before you pulled at his shirt again and slammed him against the wall beside you. Moving him out of your way so that you could make a run for it.
Suguru grunted, bracing himself as he watched you disappear around the corner he had just emerged from. And on any normal day, you wouldn’t have gotten away with that. He was never that slow to react, and he was almost always quick to action in any situation. But the aphrodisiac was making it harder to focus, his mind clouded with thoughts of sinking deep into your pussy, feeling you wrap around him like a glove; and with a girlfriend like you, he was doomed from the start.
Suguru groaned as he palmed himself through his pants, his head thudding against the wall and finding a weak respite in that. Imagining that you kissed him just then and allowed him to fuck you right into these creaky floorboards instead of manhandling him out of your way.
He shook his head while getting up, trying to clear the fog and regain control. He needed to plan out how to end this frustrating cat-and-mouse game so that he could claim victor and then claim your pussy as reward. He couldn't let his lust consume him completely, not yet.
Suguru began to conjure more curses, his fingers weaving patterns in the air as he summoned a horde of Grade 3 curses. Spider-like creatures materialized before him, their forms twisting and writhing with malevolent intent.
"Let's see how long you can keep running, baby," he murmured, sending the curses scurrying down the hall after you. He followed at a more leisurely pace, knowing this would all be over soon.
As he closed in on the door that ended the next hallway, he paused, his footsteps getting lighter and more cautious. A smirk tugged at his lips as he spotted the faint disruption of dust motes at the bottom of the door; he knew where you were hiding.
Perfect.
Your heart raced as you entered the library. Your footsteps are light and careful not to give yourself away by the old, noisy floorboards. It was dark and dusty, with the only illumination being the pale white rays of the moon bleeding in from the large circled window at the end of the room. You took in the half-empty library quickly to look for a place to hide, before whatever curses Suguru had conjured up found you—or Suguru himself. Which admittedly you wanted; yes, that was the whole objective of this thrilling game, but you at least wanted to make him work for it. Really work for it. Really prove that you were just as good of a special-grade sorcerer as he was.
You quickly found a spot in the darkest corner of the room, crouching down next to the tattered loveseat and beat-up crates. Hopefully by hiding, you could wait him out until he got so hard and frustrated that he would beg you to end the game and get what you both wanted. Fuck, just the thought of it sent a heat down your pussy. Your thighs clenched in response.
Not a moment later, Suguru was entering the library, pushing open the creaky door, his eyes quickly scanning the shadows. He could sense your presence and feel the way the air seemed to vibrate with your energy.
"I know you're in here, angel," he purred, his voice echoing.
He began to circle the room, his footsteps slow and deliberate. The aphrodisiac was really kicking in now, his body thrumming with need, his cock straining against the confines of his pants at the thought of finally catching you.
As he neared the corner where you were hiding, he felt a shift in the air, a subtle change in the energy around him. As if both your cursed energies were pushing and pulling at each other.
"I can feel you, baby," he whispered, his voice low and dangerous.
He took another step, his senses on high alert, ready to pounce the moment he laid eyes on you. The game was nearly over, and soon he would have his prize. Suguru's gaze swept over the shadows, searching for any telltale sign of movement. He knew you were watching him, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
Or rather, a perfect moment to make your escape.
You watched him move closer and closer. Each step he took inducing more and more tension. If you timed this right, you could ambush him with the loveseat and make a run for the door. You waited and waited for what felt like forever; by now he must have known exactly where you were and was waiting for you to make a move. So when he was closest to the shelves, like he was about to move behind the loveseat, you sprung up. You pushed the chair his way to try and barricade him against the shelves. He cursed, bringing his arms up to shield himself. And you took that moment to run, but Suguru was much faster, and with a flick of his wrist, he commanded his curses to block you in. You tried to exorcise them, taking a swing at the spiders a few times before Suguru came up behind you, knocking the cursed blade out of your hands.
You were cornered now. With the spider-looking curses surrounding you, the cursed blade knocked out of your hand, and the loveseat behind you, this was it.
Damn, you couldn’t even last an hour.
All that was left now was to see how long you both would last until the inevitable climax consumed you two together.
He was backing you towards the loveseat. Suguru’s grin grew wider at what putting you in the loveseat could entail. Eating your pussy, fucking you into the seat, fucking your throat, or even making you ride him until he was nothing but a fucked-out mess on the seat. The possibilities were torturous to think about.
“This was too easy.” Suguru hums, and with a snap of his fingers, web after web is tying your hands together and then lifting them over your head with a wave of his hand. You struggle some, but you accept rather instantly that you’ve been beat, and so you let everything just happen.
In the next moment you’re yanked back, your arms pulling back first and then your body, and you land roughly into the loveseat. The chair slides against the floor with a loud screech, and dust flies everywhere.
Suguru's breath hitches as he looms over you, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lips.
"Look at you," he murmured, his voice rough with need. "All tied up for me, begging to be eaten."
His other hand trails down your body, skimming over the curves he knew so well, the ones he'd explored countless times before. But this time, everything felt heightened, magnified, as if he were feeling you for the first time.
Suguru leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "I'm going to devour you, angel," he whispered, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. He nipped at your earlobe, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin.
"And then I'm going to fuck you so hard, so deep, that you'll feel me for days."
His hand slid lower, his fingers teasing along the waistband of your pants. "Is that what you want, baby?"
You stay silent. You were still partly upset that you lost this quickly, and the other part—more importantly— his touch was rendering you speechless. Your skin felt prickly under his touch—needy. Your eyes locked intensely on his, making you want to whine just by the way he was looking at you.
His fingers rested against your stomach, lightly pinning you in place.
"Do you want me to touch you?” He asks, his fingers trailing up slowly and with a little more pressure. You squirm the tiniest bit as he gets closer to one of your tits. But, when he notices that you’re purposely trying to contain your noises, he does something absolutely diabolical.
He takes his knee and knocks your legs further apart so that he could slot his knee right against your pussy. He pushes against you and presses against your clit in the most delicious way. Your head slumps back, and your mouth falls open to sigh in blissful relief.
Suguru's eyes darkened watching all of your reactions to his touch—the way your body squirmed and writhed beneath him. He could feel the heat of your pussy through the fabric of both your clothing.
He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above yours. "Do I make you feel good?" He asked, his voice low and seductive.
Without waiting for your response, he slid his hand up your body again, his fingers grazing over the soft curve of your breast. Feeling your nipple hardening beneath the thin fabric of your shirt. Your breath hitches as he brushes against it—circling it slowly.
Suguru's other hand moves lower, his fingers teasing along the hem of your pants.
"How wet do you think you are right now?" He asked, his knee pressing harder against your pussy. When you make a whimpering sound he looks back up at you. "You're dripping, aren't you? Soaking right through your panties.”
He grounds his knee against your clit, reveling in the way your hips buck up against him, seeking more friction. "That's it, angel," he murmured, his own arousal throbbing insistently against his zipper.
His fingers then dip beneath the waistband of your pants, fingers sliding down your stomach with pressure until he reaches your pussy. His touch gets light and brushes against the sticky heat of your folds.
"Fuck, you're so wet," he groaned, his eyes rolling back in pleasure. "I want to taste you so fucking bad." He’s so close now, nipping at your neck and lightly sucking marks across your collar. “I want you to cum on my tongue.”
He teases your pussy for what feels like forever. Just rubbing and petting your lips and smearing your slick all over, purposely ignoring your clit, while he pulls whine after whine out of you. He knows he’s torturing you; that’s exactly what he wanted for evading him for as long as you did.
“Suguru…” you say breathlessly, trying hard to focus on what you wanted to say. But with your hands still tightly bound and high above your head, and Suguru now biting your overly sensitive nipples through your top, while his fingers pet your weeping pussy…
Wait, fuck, you lost your train of thought.
“Suguru.” You say a little louder when you inhale a breath. He hums, using his other hand to pull your top up slowly. You watch him as his violet eyes travel up your body as he pulls your top over your tits and tucks the fabric into your mouth. Gagging you.
“You lost, angel. No use in protesting.” He smirks, eyes half-lidded and looking at you with such chilling intensity that you half think he’s about to actually devour you. The ghost face mask hanging loosely to the side of his face does little to unconvince you of that thought.
There’s a stretch of silence that passes between you two, thick and heavy with primal energy. You wait; your heavy breath is the only thing audible since gagging you. And Suguru just stares at you with a shit eating grin that tells you that he’s enjoying this way too much.
Fuck him.
After a few minutes, his hands move to your pants as he starts unbuckling them slowly—his eyes never leaving yours. In fact, they gleam at the sight of you spread out for him when he adjusts your legs. Your top pulled up to gag you, your pants still partially on. With deliberate slowness, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your pants and begins to tug them down, inch by excruciating inch. He watches your face the whole time, drinking in every furrow of your brows, every squint of your eyes, and every whimper that escapes you and muffles into the fabric of your shirt.
Once your pants are off, he tosses them aside carelessly, his gaze roaming over your bare pussy, glistening and sticky.
"Look at you," he purrs, his voice rough with lust. "So wet, so ready for me."
Suguru settles himself between your thighs, his hands gripping your hips as he leans in. Spreading you open, he starts at your inner thighs, placing soft, wet, open-mouthed kisses along your sensitive skin, working his way up to your pussy, his hot breath fanning against your heat.
When he reaches your folds, your body tenses when you see his tongue lull out, getting closer and then giving your pussy a teasing lick. The sensation makes you involuntarily buck your hips closer to him, wanting his tongue deeper.
"Mmm, you always taste so fucking good," he rasps, giving you one last look before diving in, his tongue delving deeper into you just like you wanted. A loud but muffled sound erupts out of you.
He laps at you furiously, his tongue swirling around your clit—alternating between circles and side to side, with each motion. Each movement was building that pressure closer to climax. His hands slid under your thighs, lifting your legs up and close to your chest, grunting as he manhandles you. Then he flattens his tongue against you with a few sloppy licks up the length of your pussy, and your vision blurs from the feeling.
You were dizzy from the sensory overload and the supersensitivity that was resulting from the aphrodisiac still swirling inside you. God, his tongue felt so good, so hot, and hungry. You pull at the binds at your wrist, wanting nothing more than to push your boyfriend’s face deeper into you. Wishing you could ride his face right over the edge.
Suguru’s cock hurt so bad; he was so fucking desperate to plunge himself so deep inside you that one wouldn't begin to know where your body started and his ended. But not yet; he had to hold himself together long enough to show you how much of a loser you actually were.
Suguru brought his arm up to wedge his forearm under your knees so that his free hand could join his mouth. Two fingers slipping inside you, curling against that spot that made you see stars. He pumped them in and out almost immediately, his tongue never stopping its relentless assault on your clit. His brows furrowing with determination, ready to push you over the edge and drink every last drop. He could feel you getting closer; he could feel the way your body tensed, your pussy clenching around his fingers, wishing it was his thick, fat cock that your pussy was so used to. Fuck, he knew you were ready to come.
Shit, you could feel it.
Pushing the makeshift gag out of your mouth, you moaned out his name, “S-Suguru. Suguru, fuck, I’m so close!”
He goes faster. Fucking you with his fingers harder. And the sounds your pussy and his mouth make together echoes off the walls of the library. It was so filthy.
“Fuckfuckfuck, baby, I’m right there!” Your body stiffens against him as you feel yourself slipping into a mind-numbing orgasm. But then suddenly he stops, and slaps your pussy hard, and the wet, sticky sound it makes is nasty.
You yell and whine and curse at him for ripping you away from cumming. When you spread your thighs apart to get a good look at him, he’s grinning, his lips swollen and shiny with all your juices. You want to kick him in the face.
“Untie me right now so I can beat the shit out of you!” You yell with genuine anger, and he laughs, sitting back on his heels and letting your legs fall back down. It was a heady feeling, knowing he had this much power over you, that he could reduce you to a writhing, desperate mess. He knew what he did and wanted you to know it too.
“That’s what you get for earlier.” He says, moving to stand up.
Fuck, he’s so damn hard that if he wasn’t wearing black pants, you’d probably be able to see the giant wet spot of his precum staining the front.
He stepped closer, towering over your bound form, his erection straining against his pants. "You’re really in no position to make demands..." He licks his lips, savoring the memory of your taste.
You furrow your brows and your expression is full of bitter indignation.
Suguru then leans in, his lips brushing against yours. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "Forgive me, and I'll make it up to you. I'll give you what you need. I'll make you cum so hard, you'll forget all about being mad at me."
To prove his point, he captured your lips in a searing kiss before you could think to respond. His tongue meets yours deep, claiming your mouth as thoroughly as he planned to claim your pussy. It felt like he was sucking out all the air out of you, and all you could taste was yourself on his tongue.
When he finally pulled back, Suguru's eyes were dark with lust, his pupils blown wide—surely mirroring yours.
"Ride me," he commanded, his voice rough and grabbing your face roughly.
With that, he unties you himself. Taking the discarded blade off the floor to slice through the webs binding your hands. Your arms move in tandem with his, wrapping around his neck as his encloses around you. He lifts you up and pulls you flush against his chest so he can swap positions over the loveseat. He sat down, straddling you over his lap, your knees on either side of his hips.
Suguru's hands gripped your waist, keeping you up right so that he could hastily free his cock for you. "Take me, baby," he pleaded, violet eyes locked on yours.
You hesitate for a moment, fighting the urge to deny him, and think to give him a taste of his own medicine. But when you see how red and painful his cock looks, you're reminded of how badly you also want to cum. So you fuck all your reservations to hell and slowly lower your pussy onto him.
Uniform moans fall out of both of you over rightfully connecting the way your bodies have been wanting to all night. In that moment, the game, the chase—this whole thing didn’t even matter anymore because all you both wanted to do was fuck each other.
“Fuuuck baby, I’m so horny.” Suguru says quickly through a hiss and you almost miss it. And he’s gripping onto you so tight, holding you so close against him that you feel like you’re one person. Being inside you felt like coming home, like finding a piece of himself he hadn't even known was missing.
He rolled his hips up to meet yours, driving himself deeper inside, stretching you, filling you in a way that made you both see stars. Suguru's head fell back against the loveseat, his eyes squeezing shut as he lost himself in the sensation of you, the way your walls welcomed him, the way your nails dug into his shoulders.
He says your name, and you're pulled out of your haze. “Use me." Grits through his teeth, his voice strained with pleasure.
His hands slide up your body, and under your bra to cup your tits, kneading them tenderly. He could feel your nipples pebbling against his palms; he could hear the catch in your breath as he pinched and rolled them between his fingers.
Your hips snapped down, fucking yourself so hard and fast that the loveseat began creaking beneath you. And he’s moaning with you, his cock so goddamn sensitive he could already feel his release building. The tension coiling tighter and tighter in his belly, but he held back, determined to bring you over with him.
"That's it, baby," he panted, his head leaned back against the chair, his eyes looking up at you with awe.
"Cum all over my cock."
Suguru could feel your body tensing; he could feel the way your muscles quivered and twitched as you also neared your orgasm. He redoubled his efforts, his hips pistoning up to meet you, his cock hitting that spot inside you that made you let out cries that bordered pornographic.
"Come on, angel," he urged, his voice rough with desperation.
His hands slid down to grip your ass, his fingers digging into your fat as he guided your movements, helping you to grind down onto him to take him deeper. This was it. He could feel his release fast approaching; he could feel the base of his spine tingling, his balls drawing up tight.
"Fuck, I'm close," he growls, his teeth gritted against the onslaught of sensation. "Come with me, please."
The only thing you could do was nod furiously, wrapping your arms around his neck, and tangling your fingers into his long, dark hair—preparing for an earth-shattering orgasm. Suguru captured your lips in a bruising kiss, swallowing your cries while you both came together. Then you shattered, your pussy clamping down around him with a broken cry of his name. The rhythmic flutter of your walls was his undoing, and with a hoarse shout, he followed you over the edge, spilling himself deep inside you.
You two stayed collapsed and melted into the loveseat for what felt like hours, joined, connected, your bodies still coming down from the aftershocks. Suguru's arms wrapped around you, holding you close, his forehead resting against your shoulder and peppering it with kisses. Your body felt like it was floating.
"I can’t feel my body," he chuckles, his voice husky with satisfaction.
You hummed, shifting slightly so that you could press a soft kiss to his lips, a tender gesture that contrasted the carnal sex you just had. "Yea, losing has never felt this good.”
He laughs, shifting to one side so he could pluck his ghost face mask that had fallen in between the cushions. It’s face was smooshed and warped. Suguru began to put it back on when you stopped him. Making a weird face and shaking your head, making him chuckle.
“What? I thought this was your favorite scary movie.”
ᯓ★𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝

© saintkaylaa 2023-2024 do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work. reserved rights to any original ideas. I do not own any established characters. All rights reserved.
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#suguru geto x reader#suguru geto#geto suguru#suguru x reader#geto x reader#geto smut#suguru smut#suguru geto smut#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#kinktober 2024#kinktober#ghostface#ghost face#ghostface smut#ghost face smut
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ my life with you (that’s way over now)
synopsis. some people get drunk calls from their exes, maybe even flowers with hand written apologies. you get a knock on your front door with two random kids and a murder case
length. 3.0k words (once more it was supposed to be short)
contents. exes to lovers, ex boyfriend! suguru, gn! reader, slightly deviated from canon (he doesn’t kill the entire village + doesn’t defect), slightly a fix-it fic, blood, murder, child abuse + neglect (canon events with suguru and the twins), angst to slight fluff with hopeful ending (pretty much happy tbh), mentions of family + kids, suguru pretty much being a broke and depressed lil guy lollll
notes. idk what this is but it was written for me i just wanted to write it so here. take it and look away
right before you graduate, you and suguru break up. you don’t want to, but he insists it’s only fair—he can hardly be there for you the way you need him to be, he says. something’s changed in him, it has since that day last year. but still—you don’t want to break up.
so you argue, he stays firm, you cry, he doesn’t change his mind, you break up, he leaves, and the world momentarily collapses.
it’s the way things work, you suppose. they don’t quite always go the way you planned. you graduate not long after that, leaving him behind to throw yourself into work while you toe into the baby steps of adulthood. real adulthood—the jujutsu world has a way of thrusting you into that faster than normal, anyway.
by the time it’s late summer, you get your first apartment. it’s a rundown place—the bathroom tiles look dirty no matter how much you scrub, the walls haven’t been repainted in what seems like decades, and the thermostat never works properly to feel like what the temperature indicates.
but it’s yours—you leave jujutsu high fresh into the real world, paying your taxes and buying your groceries all while you exorcise curses for a living. barely an adult, barely getting by, barely alive as you get up each day and live.
and then suguru comes knocking on your door half past midnight.
“hey,” he says nonchalantly, like there’s nothing wrong with standing there—but you know him better than that. you can hear that detachment in his voice as he stares between your eyes, but not quite in them.
“you—” you start, staring at him incredulously before you decide to give up. there are no surprises with suguru, not anymore you suppose. you don’t really know him anymore. “suguru, it’s midnight,” you sigh—and that’s when you see them: two small children that can’t be much older than five.
bruises are clear as day on their arms, even while standing in the darkness outside. there’s also the slight swollen curve of their eyes, and you can’t help but notice how they’re practically skin and bone. children who have probably not yet even lived for five winters, and you almost wonder if they’ve been through more than you have in you’re entire lifetime.
suguru clears his throat before you can stare at them any longer.
“this is nanako,” he gestures at the blonde, “and this is mimiko.” the brunette one seems more shy, curls behind his leg further as her name is uttered.
you don’t know what to say, so you settle for smiling—you’re not sure if it comes out too genuine, but you try. it’s all you can offer, really.
“hello,” you hum for a moment. and then you turn back to suguru, “it’s midnight.”
“i know.”
“you should be at school grounds.”
“i know.”
“suguru,” you sigh, eyeing the blood stained on his cheek. you don’t like where this is heading. there’s a sick feeling twisting in your gut, bubbling, bubbling, bubbling.
bile. you can taste it. something’s not right.
“where did you find these kids?”
“on a mission,” he says simply, “village heads were keepin’ em locked in a cage like animals. can you believe it?”
again, that casual tone. it almost as easy as humming your favorite tune, as smooth as your skin on freshly washed sheets, as quiet as the first day of snow when the world is still. but something about it is hollow—something’s not right.
“why’d you bring them here? instead of school? shoko should look at them—”
“i told them they’d be safe here.”
they’d be safe anywhere, you think. as long as suguru’s there too. as long they’re under his watchful gaze, nothing could hope to beat down on their youth like it already has their whole lives. but you don’t say that—something tells you he won’t believe you.
maybe not right now.
you don’t look at him. you can’t. something’s not right, but there are children present. so you throw on your best smile and open the door wider, offering them to come in.
your apartment is small, just one bedroom and one bath. there’s hardly enough food for yourself for tonight, you still have to go grocery shopping this week. the missions were lined up back to back to back—but that’s just life as a sorcerer, you suppose. most days you hardly have the energy to eat more than a few apple slices when you return home anyway.
you wave your hand at your place dramatically as you say, “come on in, ladies. your humble abode awaits.”
they giggle slightly at that—it’s the first time suguru hears them laugh. you have that effect, he knew you would. it’s why he brings them here and not there. and…well, there’s a more complicated issue at hand. but that’s for later.
right now…well, for right now, he lets you guide them to the bathroom.
“you have money on you right?” you ask. he blinks, staring at you for a moment before slowly shaking his head.
“spent the last of it on cigarettes this morning.”
great, you think, before sighing and trudging over to grab your wallet as you press a few crisp bills of cash in his hands.
“here.”
“what’s this for?” he raises a brow.
“go buy them clothes,” you look at him like he’s stupid. he might be, in all honesty. just a little. “i’m not putting them back in…those once they’re all cleaned.”
“wha—i’ve never shopped for children before,” he gapes, “and i don’t know what size they are, or—”
“figure it out, suguru,” you say tiredly. it’s half past midnight—by now, you’d be passed out from your mission. he seems to take the hint. “and bring some snacks too. should be enough.”
“fine,” he grumbles—and then he’s walking out the door.
for a second, it feels familiar watching him leave. but then you decide not to dwell on it—there are much more important matters at hand.
you turn to the two girls before crouching in front of them with a gentle smile, “who’s ready for bubbles?”
——————
nanako and mimiko have never had a bubble bath before. you decide to let them taste the first tendrils of youth by splashing in your tiny bathtub while you find suguru for some much needed answers.
he sits on your couch, shirt wrinkled and hair falling loose and blood still staining his cheek as he hunches over his legs, elbows resting on his thighs as he thinks. and thinks. and thinks and thinks and thinks.
you wonder about what—what could be plaguing his mind? a lot you’re sure, but this isn’t suguru. not the one you know, at least.
the one you knew, the voice in your mind hisses—do you really even know him at all anymore?
“so,” you sit on the opposite side of the sofa, curling your legs under yourself as you eye him from the side, “care to explain?”
“i killed them,” he mutters. you go still. “the village heads. i did it without hesitating. that’s bad, right?”
“well fuck, suguru,” you breathe, restless, “that’s certainly not good.”
“i had a reason,” he argues, “all i needed was one.”
“there’s nothing that excuses murder—”
“oh, but we can excuse locking kids in cages, is that right? why? cause they’re sorcerers? they’re not—they’re children.”
“i didn’t say that,” you rub your forehead. this is all too much. too, too much.
being a sorcerer is too much. being in front of suguru is too much.
you finish your third year with a broken heart and graduate in spring—at one point you’d hoped graduating wouldn’t change anything between you and your friends, between you and the boy you loved. everything would be the same, even if you’d leave the place that held you all together—you’d still find a way back to each other, you liked to think. but then it all changes before you can even comprehend.
haibara is dead. nanami is hardly coping. gojo is everywhere but here. shoko is in high demand. suguru is hardly present even when he’s right in front of you. nothing is the same and you don’t think it ever will be. you lose the one thing you count on being yours forever, and now, he’s right here again. but not really here—not with you so much as near you.
suguru has killed people, sitting on your couch with you while the two children he finds are bathing happily in your bathtub.
there’s some irony in that—maybe in a perfect world, suguru and you would sit on the couch, much happier than right now, though. maybe you’d be tucked under his arm and curled into his side as you both chuckle at the happy squeals in the distance. maybe in a perfect world.
but this world is cruel. too cruel, in fact. it forces children to grow up too fast during some times and lets adults continue to be children during others. it’s sickening and all too much.
but this is the world you live in. there’s not much to change in that—not much you can change. maybe sitting on the couch with suguru is what you should be grateful for, whether it’s in this world or another.
“i came here because it’s safe,” he mumbles, quieter this time, “i don’t…i didn’t trust anywhere else.”
something tells you he’s not talking about the kids. you look at him for the first time that night—really look at him. you take in the lost weight, the sunken cheekbones and the bruised under eyes from the lack of sleep. the cracked lips from being chapped and the dry hair that’s lost its normal shine.
something’s not right—you won’t be able to mend it, but you think you can keep it from getting worse.
“it is safe here,” you murmur, nodding in assurance, “but you can’t…i can’t let you do that. not again.”
“what? kill people?” he snorts in dry amusement. it’s quiet for a bit—you open your mouth a few times like you want to say something, but nothing ever comes. he finally decides to fill the silence. “i don’t know what’s right and what’s wrong anymore. people shouldn’t kill. but some people shouldn’t live.”
“i think jujutsu is supposed to save people. not everyone will deserve it, but i suppose we wouldn’t be much better than them if we used it for anything other than that,” you whisper. he looks over at you at that, peers at you deep in thought as he contemplates your words.
“that’s funny,” he chuckles, “i used to think that too.”
“what changed?”
“everything.”
“then change it some more,” you shrug, “until you think it again.” he looks at you incredulously at that, eyeing you like you’re crazy.
“you’re an idiot,” he scoffs.
“says the killer,” you scoff back. you look at him this time, in the eyes and full of conviction, full of promises you couldn’t make before but fully intend to keep now. “don’t kill anyone else and i’ll help you. with those kids, i mean.”
“you want to co parent with me?” he chuckles.
co parent—the word makes your stomach twist. even after all this time, after all the hurt and pain, suguru is easy to imagine that with. he’s easy to imagine anything in the future with, really. he’s always been perfect like that, but you’re starting to realize there’s a lot more imperfections to him than you initially thought.
but it’s okay, you think. if you didn’t stop loving him before, you certainly don’t stop now. blood on his hands or not, he’s yours—even if he doesn’t want to be.
“don’t say it like that,” you murmur softly, hugging your arms around yourself, “please.”
you let yourself be vulnerable for just a moment—not because you want to, but because he needs to know. he needs to know how unfair he’s being and how patient you are with him despite it all. you deserve that much.
“sorry,” he mutters—he has the decency to look away and drop his smile.
“you don’t kill anyone, and i’ll look for a bigger place. deal?”
“for us…all?”
“yes. just until you figure it out, i’ll help you out with them. and then you’ll responsibly use your paycheck as a full time special grade sorcerer and maybe send a few checks my way to say thanks to my good will.”
he chuckles at that, shaking his head. “i’ll repay you,” he hums, tapping his foot. he does that when he’s nervous, you still remember—you could never forget anything about him. “i…i owe you, anyway.”
it’s quiet some more. you don’t know what to say, and quite frankly, you don’t want to say anything at all. but once more, he fills the silence for you after a while.
“what if…” he starts, “what if i want to co parent with you?”
“you dumped me,” you point out, unable to hide the bitterness any longer. it cracks from your tongue through your words like honey that went dry. “remember that? cause i sure remember.”
you’re an adult now, just barely, but an adult all the same. you should handle this the mature way—but you’re still young. still hurt. still blanketed in the fresh wave of nostalgia that leaves you aching with grief.
so you let yourself be bitter. suguru can handle that much after he left you to pick up your shattered pieces.
“i didn’t want to,” he says quietly. “i never wanted to.”
“but you did.”
“i didn’t…you didn’t deserve to see me unstable.”
“you’re not very stable right now either,” you pinch your nose tiredly, “you killed people, suguru. but somehow you can manage to have two kids now. but not me.”
“they need me,” he defends.
“i needed you too,” your voice cracks.
you did. you needed him—and you like to think he needed you too. maybe it wasn’t perfect, nothing ever is, especially not when you fight curses and see their ugliness every day. but that’s the best part of having each other—having something pretty amidst the hideousness.
he left you with more ugly than you knew what to do with. it’s unfair, you think for a moment, unfair that two girls who hardly know him at all have more of him than you ever did. he’d never abandon them—that much you know for sure.
you’ve laughed with him, held him and wiped his tears and kissed him under the moon until it became the sun. you’ve seen him with his hair down and his guard lowered. you’ve seen him in every way possible but in the end, he walked away.
they’ve seen him for less than a day and somehow, he’ll be there forever. there’s something unfair about that and you hate that you’re bitter with children but the world in cruel like that.
suguru slowly inches over—it’s cautious at first, and then he fills the gap all at once. you pretend you don’t feel the way your thighs touch.
“i need you too,” he admits, voice small. there’s a small, shaky crack that eats away at your heart, trying to gnaw into the raw part. the easy to reach part. the part you shouldn’t let him see anymore. “i…i always needed you. i’m sorry.”
“we were supposed to need each other,” you sniffle.
“we do,” he slowly slumps his head onto your shoulder. you let him stay there—don’t dare move a muscle in case he pulls away. “you’re the only thing that keeps me stable. i don’t think that’s fair.”
“needing someone isn’t unfair, suguru,” you scoff.
“okay,” he grabs your hand, squeezing. for the first time, he lets it all go. lets tears slowly slip from the corners of his eyes as he slumps into your side. he cries for riko. for kuroi. for satoru and the time he lost him for a moment. for their youth. for haibara. for not being enough even when he shouldn’t have had to be. somewhere amidst all that, your arms wrap around him and he’s pulled into your chest—that familiar feeling of your fingers threading into his hair makes the world start spinning again. “i need you,” he chokes.
“okay,” you say shakily, nodding slowly as you let yourself hope, “as long as you don’t stop this time.”
he buries his face into your chest, and you kiss the crown of his head.
cruelty is an unstoppable force. your love for suguru is an immovable object. neither is going anywhere, but perhaps they can coexist.
“satoru’s gonna have a massive headache when he explains this one to the higher ups,” you snort after a while.
he laughs into your shirt, real for the first time in a long time. “i’ll buy him something sweet. should make up for it,” he hums. and then he looks up, smiles innocently as he asks, “wanna lend me some cash? i’ll pay you back when i’m a responsible handler of money.”
“you’re hopeless,” you chuckle, “but at least you’re here.”
————— BONUS —————
“okay,” satoru starts, holding his hands up in surrender as he stands before the higher ups. damn old geezers, he thinks. “so he did kill a person or two…but—”
“there is no excuse,” a voice hisses.
“he didn’t mean it,” he huffs indignantly, “it was an accident. those can happen sometimes.”
“what—”
“he’s going through a phase, okay? let him work through it, he’ll be fine.”
“that’s not—”
“i’ll let him off the hook this time,” satoru grins, pushing his glasses up his nose as he shrugs, “he’s got a family now, y’know? kids and a spouse, and they’re looking for a home. can’t take that away from them.”
“he’s not even married—”
“it’ll happen eventually,” he insists, “so let’s all just calm down, yeah? great, thanks!”
“gojo—”
“see ya!”
he walks out, flashing an obnoxious peace sign at the higher ups as they hiss at him to return as he’s walking out. that takes care of that, he thinks, as long as suguru doesn’t make his life harder and kill more people, he can handle it—you did promise him kikufuku if he does.
satoru is babygirl defender no. 1 ain’t nobody doing it like my guy 🤞🏽 he would be loyal to you while you were in jail no doubts
#teepods.writings#fics.#geto x reader#geto x you#geto angst#geto fluff#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk angst#jjk fluff#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x you#geto suguru angst#geto suguru fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen angst#jujutsu kaisen fluff
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heartbreak hotel
- gojo satoru x reader
so you're going on a three-day-two-night getaway trip with the one and only Gojo Satoru. the catch? you two have just broken up.
genre/warnings: crack, jealousy, a dose of pettiness, hurt/comfort, fluff, zero angst i promise, suguru being a good buddy to his boyfriend best friend
notes: inspired by a very real life story :))) anyways, it takes place in an au where suguru never left and all is well with our little meow meow catoru the wonderful colored manga panel by the talented @redbluenight! this was so much fun to write (that it turned into a whopping 3k+ word, so sorry) and i even made a playlist while on it ;)
general masterlist
"He's intolerable!"
There were many things that led to the end of your relationship with Gojo Satoru, but if asked one word to sum it, then that was it.
When you started this thing with him, obviously you had never planned on how it would end―who started a relationship with that sort of mindset anyway? But if you could choose, you definitely wouldn't want it to end with dramatic shouting match that left you in tears.
Anyways, some things were just not meant to be. You refused to spend your whole life crying over that smug bastard, and so you moved on.
However, if there's one thing you've learned about plans, it is that whenever you already make a foolproof one, the world always has some funny way to mess it up.
Like this time.
"I... I remembered saving for months," you stammered dumbly, staring blankly at Shoko in front of you. The realization felt like a spiritual ascent. "I paid for that damn plane ticket and hotel with my whole saving. I can't just throw them away."
How could you possibly forget about this? This graduation trip that had been planned between your group of Satoru, Suguru, Shoko and yourself for months now. It was meant to be a getaway, a celebration of your most significant achievement after four years of barely getting by on exorcising curses and not dying in the process. This was supposed to be the ultimate milestone celebration in your life.
"Then don't," Shoko replied simply, twisting the cigarette in her mouth. "I'm still going though. No way I'm wasting that money."
"But!" you vehemently hissed. "He will be there. It means I have to see him for three days straight!"
Your cringeworthy breakup happened just barely a week ago. You had sworn in front of Gojo Satoru that you didn't want to see his face again, and yet in less than a week from now, you and him would literally share the same space―again?
"Can't I get a refund?"
"This late? Nah, it's like yay or nay at this point."
You slumped in frustration. Were the gods making you swallow your own words now? You were left with no other choice. Your frugality and tendency to get broke often compelled you to make the decision.
You were going on this trip whether he was there or not.
Meanwhile, on his end, the said smug bastard was brooding, groaning and pacing over the same predicament. Satoru had two options and had weighed them all, and somehow he still arrived at the more seemingly no-good decision.
"I'm going, duh!"
"You are?" Suguru asked with a hint of surprise in his voice. "Well, might be the first time I've seen someone agree to go on an overnight trip with his ex..."
"Hmph. I just don't like squandering money."
Suguru snorted, unimpressed. “Satoru, you have an entire fortune. The airfare is just an amount you'd donate to charity. Besides, you have wasted more than that.”
“Well, I want to enjoy my youth too! I’m going—who cares if she’ll be there!”
He was still miffed, recalling the day your argument spiraling out of control. How could you say those hurtful things to him?
“You never take things seriously—heck, I’m not even sure if you’re ever taking me seriously at all! Satoru, you’re always acting all high and mighty, but you’re just a selfish little twat!”
No way. The last time, he was left in the dust, not being able to say anything in his defense. So now, he would use this chance to be the one who had the last laugh. He was going, because he was 70% sure that you wouldn’t let your hard-earned money go to waste.
And he was right when two days later, he found you at the airport with a bitter scoff upon seeing him.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he moistened his lower lip in that obnoxious way. “Missed me?”
You walked past him, tone lacing with disdain. “Get lost, Gojo.”
He couldn’t help the prickling sensation in his chest when you dismissed him just like that. And the use of his last name—whereas you used to call him with all sort of available pet names? Now that was just low.
“Nah, you can’t get away from me that easily, Y/N,” Satoru sniggered. “You’re going to see me for the next three days, so suck it up and enjoy the sight,” and then the idiot proceeded to pump his fist in the air. “Wooo! Kyushu, here I go!”
Suguru and Shoko merely observed your icy interactions in silence, occasionally exchanging glances from time to time.

ITINERARY ::: DAY 1 — BEACH DAY @ SEASIDE HOTEL

After the three-hour flight, the four of you arrived at Karatsu, one of the main highlights in your trip—or back then, one you and Satoru handpicked yourselves.
You swore you still had your heart frozen for him, so you didn’t know what stirred it when you saw him giggling and doubling over in carefree delight, surrounded by those beach girls in skimpy bikinis.
“Hey, handsome~ is this even okay?” one of the girls in pink thong scooted closer to him, asking him with this cheap seductive grin. “Won’t your girlfriend be mad?”
At that moment, you could’ve sworn Satoru threw you a glance from the corner of his eye before replying with a triumphant bark. “What girlfriend? I’m wholly and happily single!”
The hell?
A rush of squeals grated your nerves as they swarmed your ex-boyfriend, prompting you to stalk away in irritation.
Absolutely not. You wouldn’t let this fine establishment be your heartbreak hotel any longer.
Gojo Satoru knew fully that he was petty. He let you see that on purpose just to rile you up, because frankly, he still felt like he didn’t deserve your messy breakup at all.
But when you were no longer in his eyesight, suddenly the urge to entertain these strangers dissipated, and what remained was this hollow sensation in his chest. You not paying him attention somehow made him crave it all the more.
He recalled how you pointed out that playing in the clear waters would be your ideal graduation gift. He specifically recommended this place himself and you had agreed. He remembered planning all of this, dragging Suguru and Shoko too just to make it merrier. To keep that cute smile on your face.
You were supposed to fool around with him in the clear waters of Matsubara Beach, splashing and pulling him underwater.
And yet in reality, he was toying with these questionable women and in your eyes, he was nothing but an irritable twat.
He didn’t see you again until evening, during dinner time. And the sight before him made him want to pull Suguru to the side and trap him inside his unlimited void.
"Really?" Your clear voice rang in his ears, every bit the same as when you would energetically question him with those doe eyes of yours, as you peered at Suguru. "We should go together tomorrow then!"
His eyes twitched.
What has his life come to? Reduced into seeing his ex-girlfriend possibly going on a date with his best friend?
He almost hoped that you'd stage up your pettiness level. It was worse because unlike him, you didn't make this up just to gauge his reaction.
That night, in their shared hotel room, he ignored Suguru completely, as well as silently waiting for him to divulge where he and you were going tomorrow.
"Hey Satoru—"
"Shut up, I'm trying to sleep."
It was obviously a wrong move, because Suguru apparently caught the hint and stayed quiet as a mouse throughout the night.

ITINERARY ::: DAY 2 — HOT SPRING @ KUMAMOTO

Or at least, last he remembered, that was the agenda.
Until he saw that only Shoko who was there, idling around at the hot spring area.
"Where are the others? Why is it only you here?"
She shrugged. "Geto said he's going to try the local specialties. Dunno where. As for me, I'm going to enjoy this onsen to the fullest."
Shoko noticed his irritated scowl, and a sly grin crept across her face.
"Heh, jealous much now, Gojo?"
Meanwhile, you and Suguru went to various dessert shops in town as per his invitation. Perhaps he took pity on you because you really seemed not to be having any fun at all after you stormed off from the beach area yesterday.
"Mmm! This is tasty!" you remarked, munching away the three-colored dango happily. You were so engrossed in eating today that you no longer had any room to think about anything else, which was a good thing.
Suguru smiled. "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself now." However, he appeared to have something on his mind, prompting you to hum and tilt your head in curiosity.
"No, it's just... so it's really over between you and Satoru?"
You let out a snort. "Yeah. Totally. He's an ass."
"He really is miserable, you know..."
"Nah, he doesn't look like it."
Your friend sighed. "Honestly, what was the argument even about? Both of you usually didn't take it this far."
You didn't want to go back to that topic, really. But Suguru was always the one with cooler head, and after his kindness today, maybe you could spare him a detail or two.
"It's a lot of little things that have piled up, you know," you mumbled. "It's probably just how he is, and I know. But I finally reached my boiling point. Why can't he try to see things from my perspective? Everything that's important to me doesn't seem to matter to him, and relationships need two people, not just one who resigns and the other who does anything he pleases."
And until now, you doubted if Satoru even realized what he did wrong. That was what hurt you the most. Like you were so small in his eyes, like he could toy with you and get away with it.
As you expected, Suguru would understand your point. "So that's how you feel... Yeah, I think I get it."
You thought he would end it at that, but then he went on. "I'm not defending him, Y/N. I think some time away from you would do him good, but later, maybe you can talk this to him? See if he will understand?"
"I already did, so many times." You narrowed your eyes at him. "Not to offend you, but it awfully seems like you're defending him, Suguru, despite you saying otherwise."
"I'm saying this because sometimes we can forget that Satoru is different," he explained sympathetically, and to be honest, you were surprised by his statement. "He is born exalted. He has a hard time comprehending things that come to us naturally. I just think it's a pity if... you can actually fix this, but just because bad communication, you lose the chance to."
Have you properly communicated this to him? Now that you thought about it, most of the times you would just get mad and point at the little things he missed, but never actually told him how it made you feel.
Your mind was still muddled with the fact Suguru had shed light on even after you got back to ryokan where you were staying for the night. The two of you were in for a surprise though as apparently there was a festival happening there.
Everything seemed to spark with glitters. The bamboo lanterns, lights, the gentle breeze. It created an undeniably romantic ambiance, to be honest.
You didn't know when Suguru slipped away, but suddenly, you found yourself alone amidst the visitors and dim lights.
And you found yourself to be immensely lonely.
Satoru spotted you in all your solitary glory amidst the sea of people in this godforsaken place.
No, actually it was a pretty great inn and attraction, but this trip had been horrible so far, and so he just felt everything was bad.
But at that moment, bitterness no longer clouded his mind, because you were so beautiful, bathed in the glow of the lights that Shoko had forcibly dragged him to see. If it were up to him, he'd spend the last night sleeping his heartbreak away, but now that he was here, he was thankful to see the dazzling sight of you that reminded him once again just what made him hopelessly in love with you.
And why he didn't get his sorry ass back into your good graces faster.
He retraced everything had brought both of you to this point. Your last fight was about what again? Him not telling you any news when he would be back from a mission?
No matter how he thought about it, it was a trivial matter. So what made you mad? He kept thinking, and then he imagined switching places with you. What if you didn't text him at all for three days straight? How would he feel? Oh, he would be despondent, of course.
Now he was starting to understand. He had done that so many times he could no longer keep count. Granted, you would be angry.
Satoru suddenly know how to rectify this. He can make things right. He would be damned if he didn't. He just had to pull you aside, and he was going to when he lost sight you in the crowd.
Okay, now he was frantic, as the longer he didn't see you, the more his opportunity to make amends slipped away. He moved through the crowd, pushing people in the process, earning ire and questionable glares and yet he cared none for it.
He nearly cursed at how his phone kept vibrating incessantly inside his pocket. Begrudgingly, he took it out and almost gasped.
You are calling him.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
It was so incredibly stupid. You just went to pee for a bit and then somehow got yourself locked in the toilet. It might have been fine, but then the lights unexpectedly went out, scaring the shit out of you.
How could such a upscale inn experience a sudden power outage and have doors that wouldn't budge? It was worse when no matter how many times you punched the switch or banged the door, it refused to turn on or open.
You were trapped. Honestly, it took everything you had not to cry.
And so you did the next best thing aside from forcing your way out. You called your friends. First, Shoko, and then Suguru, but both of them somehow didn't pick up the call even after you had called them three times each.
That left you with one possible person left. In your frenzied mind, it didn't even register in your mind what you were doing as the line connected and the last person you'd call on the other side answered.
"Satoru," you shakily breathed out, almost crying—or were you already? You didn't know as you focused on his sharp intake of breath, most likely surprised at how rattled you sound.
"Y/N? What? What is it?"
"I—" you wheezed, hating how helpless you sounded, yet still forced the words out. "I'm locked, it's dark—and it's just so—help! Help me please! I tried getting Shoko but she didn't—"
"Okay, sweetheart, calm down. Calm down, okay?" Satoru's voice brought you some comfort and it helped to reduce your tears, missing how he slipped up by calling you with his usual pet name for you. "Tell me. Where are you?"
"The women's restroom… I think it’s in the east wing."
"I'm coming, okay? Don't panic. I'll be there. Just stay on the line."
You heard his ragged breaths as he muttered several "coming through!" and "excuse me!" from where he was. It made your heart lurch. Despite the spiteful breakup, he rushed to your aid as soon as he realized you were in some kind of trouble.
Was this okay, to let your relationship end just like that?
"I'm outside." And then you heard his voice, much to your relief. "Y/N? Are you there?"
"Yes!" you shouted over the steel door.
You then heard how he rummaged to get the door open, and faintly hear him cursing it. "It won't open."
You wanted to sob, but then Satoru told you with an absolute tone, sounding so sure and demanding that compelled you to comply. "Get away from the door. As far as possible. Take cover."
Oh God, was he going to do what you thought he might do?
...he did. The next thing you knew, the door—and much more than that—was destroyed, and a rush of cursed energy was everywhere. After the blast subsided, you instinctively made a run for it, and you didn't know how, but you ended up stumbling into him.
Satoru caught you in his firm embrace.
"It's okay. You're okay," he cooed, whispering in your ear gently, urging your shivering body to calm down. "You're safe now, Y/N... I'm here. You're safe."
There was always something about your trembling form that made him want to tear down everything and anything in his path just to make you feel secure. And there was always this sense of rightness whenever you snuggled in his arms. Both desires clashed in a contrasting need and want and Satoru could do nothing but keep you close to him, torn between the two.
He kept his hand on your spine, and you clung on him, burying your face in his broad, sturdy chest.
Nevermind the fact that you technically broke up with him. Nevermind that ever since this botched trip started, it was the first occasion in which the two of you held a proper conversation without spewing bravado or sarcasm.
Afterwards, he led you away from the site, and he figured it would be best to go somewhere quieter rather than the festival, and so here you were, at the deserted lounge.
You had calmed down for the most part, and slowly you felt heat in your cheeks. In hindsight, you could've tried using cursed energy to blast the door too, why didn't you think of that earlier?
And yet, unaware of your internal musings, Satoru's thoughts were occupied with another matter entirely, and blame it on his insensitivity—he chose this moment to drop it without hesitation.
"I want you back," he declared, void of any hesitation. "I'll be better, I promise. Those things you hate—tell me, and I'll make sure not to repeat them again."
He wasn't the sharpest when it came to picking up on your feelings, but Satoru vowed that if it bothered you that much, then he would do his best to avoid doing it.
But you... you were still trying your best to grasp the situation. Amidst the plot twist you just experienced tonight, his blatant proclamation was the last thing you expected so you only managed a "What?"
He held your gaze, eerily serious. “I don’t want to break up. It’s hell. We can—I can still fix this.”
He looked sincere, unlike the usual empty promises he’d give you after you went off on him. And suddenly, you understood.
“…really?”
“Yeah. Just give me another chance. I’ll prove it to you,” Satoru said, visibly impatient now. “I won’t give you up. This literally is the fight of my life right now.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle, despite yourself. If there was anything that you had learned tonight, it was that apparently you and him were still salvageable.
“And how will you prove it?”
“Just so you wait and see, sweets. I’m gonna relight your feelings!”
It was beyond corny that he took a line from your favorite song. And both of you burst into a laughter at the sheer silliness of it.
You sighed, but this time of relief, in stark contrast to your earlier sighs that afternoon. You were giddy as a smile perched on your lips. “Fine. Let’s give this another shot.”
Satoru felt the tension in his shoulder melt with your answer. A genuine, wide smile emerged from the bottom of his heart and lit up his face.
“Now, this whole trip has been kind of terrible so far, don’t you think?” He made a brief pouty face for a moment before reverting to his mischievous grin His remarkable expressiveness—reminiscent of a child's, in your opinion—never ceased to fascinate you. “I have a pretty good idea where we should go next.”
You furrowed your brow in confusion. “What do you mean? Tomorrow’s our last day.”
“No freaking way!” he exclaimed, whipping out his phone to launch the travel agency app. “We are going to redo our graduation trip. This time just the two of us!”
There were many things that led to the end of your relationship with your dork of a boyfriend, but as you reflected on it, you realized that there were also many reasons for you to stay together, especially when he reached for your hand and held it firmly in his grasp.
You were unable to contain your excitement and bubbling with melodious giggles that he adored so much as he whisked you away from Kumamoto in favor of the last bullet train to Kyoto, where your long-awaited true vacation would begin.
Epilogue
“I told you this was a horrible idea. I fucking told you.”
"Can you blame me? Dude was about to throttle me in my sleep."
"Geto," Shoko scowled, her disbelief at his simple answer evident as she gestured wildly with both hands towards the wrecked lavatory, emphasizing her point. "Look—now that he had gone and done it, we're the ones footing the bill for the destruction of property!"
Gojo had blasted the washroom with a freaking Red. And the innkeeper promptly held both Shoko and Suguru responsible since their roommates were captured on CCTV and had vanished without a trace.
Suguru rubbed his neck sheepishly. "I genuinely thought it was a good idea. I didn't expect Satoru to go overboard though," then he threw her a stink eye. "And hey, you were complicit in this too!"
Shoko mumbled a string of curses as she pulled out her phone, snapping some pictures of the undeniable evidence of Gojo’s doing, and then made a call. Suguru frowned.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm reporting him to the headquarters!"
#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru imagines#gojo fluff#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo fluff#jjk x reader#jjk imagines#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jjk fanfic#jjk fluff#hurt/comfort#jjk gojo#gojo angst#gojo x reader#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jjk gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen x you#gojo x you#jujutsu kaisen fluff#geto suguru#ieiri shoko#super shy at the beginning until airport is so uncanny idk why#and then seven when gojo fools around at the beach too#jjk fic#satoru x y/n
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❛ 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒔𝒏𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓
—grab a snack you say, don't start squirming when gojo satoru grabs you okay?
—ft. jujutsu kaisen gojo satoru x reader
author's note: THIS IS FROM MY DRAFTS🥹🥹 INSPIRED BY A TIKTOK VIDEO I SAW(AGAIN) >< !! @bonz_thoughts on tt !!

it was just supposed to be a quick stop.
you and gojo had just finished a mission, well not entirely—you handled the cursed spirit while he MOSTLY watched and made commentaries like he was a food critic judging battle moves instead of fine dining, he claimed he was letting you "build character".
now you two were on your way back, strolling down a half-empty train platform, bags in hand. the vending machines nearby buzzed softly, offering chips, drinks, and the kind of snacks no one ever really craved, unless they were gojo satoru.
"i'm starvingggg" he whined, dragging his long limbs dramatically behind you.
“i feel faint, my six eyes are dimming, i might not make it, carry me ?”
“absolutely not.” you replied, turning your head back to him,
“grab a snack or something.”
there was a beat of silence. that should have been your warning.
suddenly, there were arms around your waist, warm breath on your next, and a suspiciously smug chuckle.
and then—
“mm~ tastes even better than chips.” gojo murmured, lips brushing your skin as he started peppering playful kisses along the curve of your neck.
“gojo— !” you squeaked, nearly dropping your bag as you twisted in his grip, cheeks blazing.
he blinked at you innocently, still holding you way too close. “what ? you said grab a snack, i grabbed the best one i saw.”
“you— ! that’s not what i meant and you know it !”
“details, details.” he said with a devilish grin, resting his chin on your shoulder, “you really should be more specific around a man with no sense of shame and a chaotic appetite.”
“or just no sense, period.” you grumbled, trying to wriggle free—but he held you tighter.
“you wound me.” he gasped theatrically, spinning you slightly just to make you more dizzy, “now i have no choice but to snack again to ease the pain.”
he made a show of moving in again and you barely slapped a hand to his chest fast enough. “gojo !”
his eyes gleamed behind his blindfold, “yes, my sweets ?”
“you’re impossible.”
“and you’re irresistible, we make a great combo hm ?”
eventually, you managed to push him off, but not before he snuck one last kiss to your cheek. you didn’t say anything—but your face was warm as a bonfire.
from then on, every time you passed a vending machine, gojo would nudge you with the same line.
“hey, you hungry ?”
“no.”
“good. because i brought my own snack.”
“you say that again and i’ll exorcise you.”
“worth it.”
but sometimes, you weren’t all that mad about them.
#weallmakemistakes
#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru#jjk x reader#gojo x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk fluff#eternitia '
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The day his deal comes due, Sam goes missing.
Dean tells himself it’s nothing, that he’s gotten caught up in some research, some last ditch, hail mary nonsense and that he’s just turned his phone off and everything’s fine, that he wouldn’t do something stupid, that he wouldn’t break his promise.
He tells himself that for the first two minutes after he cracks his eyes open and sees the empty bed across from him, and the first time his call goes straight to voicemail, and not much after that. Sam’s broken his promises over things significantly less important to him than his brother’s life.
Dean is dressed and in the Impala five minutes later, heart thudding wildly in his chest. He calls Bobby, Ellen, everyone he can think of, but none of them have heard from Sam, none of them have eyes on him. Sam was with him last night, even if he boosted a car, there’s only so far he can get.
He keeps calling, keep searching, desperate to stop whatever he’s trying to do, to find him, to see his brother one last time before he’s dragged to hell. To make sure Sam is going to be okay after he’s dragged to hell. But the hours tick down, the sun sets, and he can’t find a trace of him. He’s so exhausted and heart sick that when he goes to call Sam again it takes him a long time to read the number on his phone, eyes swimming, the time not making any sense.
1:03
That’s not possible.
That’s not –
His phone rings, blocking out the time with Bobby’s name across the screen, and he answers it but his throat is too thick to say anything.
“Dean?” Bobby says tentatively. “Are you – I got an email from Sam. It just said, I mean, did–“
“What did it say, Bobby?” he asks, even though he’s sure he knows.
Bobby sucks in a breath at his voice, because he knows just as well as Dean that he should be screaming in hell right now, not answering his phone. “To take care of you.”
Dean drops the phone, hears Bobby still talking as he grips the wheel and presses his forehead against the back of his hands. This is what he’d been afraid of. This is why he hadn’t wanted to mess with the deal in first place. This is the one thing he’d begged Sam not to do.
It's easy to find a crossroad.
The demon is laughing at him when it shows up, wicked grin in a pretty face. “That didn’t take you long, boy.”
It’s a different demon than the one he delt with, obviously, but Dean figures they all know the same shit, since demons are a bunch of gossips. “This wasn’t the deal. My brother lives and I die.”
“You traded your soul for your brother’s life,” she corrects, so amused by all this that all he wants to do is kill her, to exorcise her, to make her scream. “Just like your father traded his for yours. There’s no reason Sammy can’t make his own trade. Man, but is your family fucked up. Maybe if you’d just settled down like little Sammy wanted, you wouldn’t all be bargaining for each other’s lives like haggling at a flea market.”
“Untrade it,” he snaps. “My soul for him alive, come on, no year, no waiting, you bring him back and take me to hell right now.”
She laughs in his face. “You don’t have anything to bargain with, boy.”
“My soul,” he repeats, “That’s what this is about, isn’t?”
“Oh, it’s what it’s all about,” she says. “But Sammy’s a clever boy. You know that, don’t you? He didn’t trade his soul for your life, he didn’t have to. You didn’t die. No, he traded it for your soul. Sorry, honey, but your credits been declined.”
At first he doesn’t understand. Sam traded his soul for Dean’s, exactly, so there’s no reason he can’t trade it right back. Then he gets it.
She sees the exact moment it clicks, the moment despair and horror sweep across his face too quickly for him to stop them. “That’s right. Little brother owns your soul now. For some reason he didn’t think you’d take proper care of it. You have it because that’s where he wants it, but no one will be making any deals with you, Dean Winchester. You can’t sell a soul you don’t own.”
“You can’t,” he has to clear his throat, “you can’t just come in and change things at the eleventh hour-”
“Eleventh hour?” she interrupts. “Sammy made his deal eleven months ago.”
His mouth is so dry he can’t speak.
“Isn’t it funny?” she asks, head cocked to the side. “All this time, the deal he’s been trying to get out of wasn’t yours, but his own. Maybe the two of you might have even managed it, except you just wouldn’t help, would you? Insisting that he not research, that he not look for a way out, and he spent so much time trying to convince you, coaxing you to talk about your feelings when he knew you were safe, all he because he thought it would make you feel better when he was gone, because he couldn’t tell you the truth and talk about how scared he was, so talking about your fear was as close as he could get.”
Dean’s going to be sick. “Don’t – please, please, I’ll give you anything-”
“You don’t have anything,” she says, gleeful. “You want to know why I agreed? The thing that made it just too delicious to refuse? Sammy’s down there, just starting in on an eternity of torture, and all he has to do get out of it is give up your soul. It’s his, after all, and he can put the original deal back in place any time he chooses. Just one moment of weakness on his end and his beloved big brother will be on the rack instead.” She sighs happily. “It’s almost as good as anything we’re doing to him down there, the knowledge that if he slips up for even a moment then it would all be for nothing. I couldn’t have found a way to twist the knife deeper if I tried.”
There’s vomit crawling its way up his throat and he has to swallow it down before he can speak. “I can’t – I’ll do whatever you want, please, there has to be something.”
She leans forward, cruelty and delight shining in her eyes. “The only thing you can do is what you’ve been telling your precious baby brother to do for the past year. Accept it. Move on. Live a good life so his sacrifice isn’t in vain.”
God. How can she – how can Sammy expect him to –
He’s doubling over, finally upchucking what little he’s ate today, and he’s dry heaving on the dirt when he hears the fading sound of her laughter.
This can’t be real. This has to be Hell, he has to be in it right now. He has to be.
#supernatural#sam spends like a couple weeks at most on the rack before pro azazel and therefore pro boy king sam demons steal him away#going wow we're so glad you're in hell and here to take the throne#and sam is like. well. i guess it's better than being tortured for eternity#he rescues his dad and gets such a disappointed look for being in hell that he sort of almost regrets it#anyway 40 hell years later things are mostly in order#so he shows up at bobby's 4 earth months late with starbucks and i don't fucking know an ascot#going hi dean :) you'll never guess what i did on my summer vacation :)#dean is like i am going to fucking kill you with my bare hands (i love you so much)#fandom ficcery
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Jason is 100% sure that the manor is haunted. He doesn't believe or thinks it is he KNOWS. It wanders the manor halls at day, the gardens during storms and the batcave at night. And it's not like the others in the family don't believe in magic either, they know it exists too!
But when he tells them that the manors haunted it's always "No way, Jason!" And "Are you sure it wasn't Drake wandering the halls, Todd?"
So he calls all his siblings to his apartment because honestly, the ghost is becoming more of bother than Bruce when Jason is visiting and that's just ridiculous. This time he backs up his claims with proof.
The others are convinced...barely, but they are willing to hear him out and go along with his plan to exorcise it. The demon brat may have some doubts but considering Jason does have the most experience with those things (death and demon killing, flaming swords do make great arguments), he relents.
They go he whole nine yards for it, Ouija Board, holy water, incense , ghost detector etc.. They make their way to the manor and start.
Then, after weeks of bothering Jason, it doesn't even show up! Tim and Cass start to mock him. Steph starts a Livestream, since she finds the whole thing is too funny not to put on the Internet. Damian and Duke think Jason's hallucinating. And Dick is trying to cheer him up, which is honestly much more insulting.
That is until Duke abruptly stops laughing and Tim's ghost detector goes haywire. The light start flickering and Steph can see a figure on her screen before it appears in the middle of the room.
There's a thunderstorm outside, the furniture is shaking and everyone someone is screaming. Jason debates on summoning the All-Blades or simply throwing his can of holy water at the specter, when everything goes to normal and Bruce steps into the room.
The man takes a look at them,the equipment and out of place furniture, "What are you doing?"
"Oh my God Bruce, the manors fucking haunted!", Duke screeches and gestures at where the specter was.
"Okay, and what are you doing?", The sigh that comes out of the man sounds so tired as he massages his brows.
Great, Jason thinks, this is the part where the parents brush off their kids concerns, turn back around and they have to deal with it themselves.
Damian puffs out his chest, putting on a brave face, "We're currently at the process of exorcising the apparition!"
Their father looks at them, where they last saw the ghost and back at them. Then in the flattest tone imaginable, "No."
"NO!?"
"I'm not gonna let you exorcise uncle Joshua", Bruce informs them, like having a relative haunt you is normal.
"You had an uncle named Joshua?", Tim asked, as if not being in the know of obscure Wayne Family Trivia was a crime.
"I don't. He's my great-great-great-great granduncle, but that's a mouthful."
Dick huffed, "Bruce. Love you but what the hell! You knew there was a ghost here and didn't tell us?"
"Why are you complaining, Dick. You've met him"
"No I didn't!"
"You did, he saved you by guiding you back to the manor when you were lost during that snowstorm."
"I thought I hallucinated that", at that the Ouija key moved to 'NO', while everyone was standing at least a foot away.
"Well you didn't. Now get this stuff out of my house and apologize. He's been keeping these grounds as free from magical influences as possible.", Bruce ordered and then stopped Damian from touching the board, "Leave the Ouija board, he seems to like it."
While everyone started packing the exorcism stuff away Jason turned to look at Stephanie's phone. The very phone that streamed the entirety of what just happened. Oh no, the Internet is gonna have a field trip with this one.
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18+
Eddie Munson x AFAB reader, friends to lovers, mentions of nudity, brief mention of masturbation (m). Basically, Eddie finds you sleeping naked in his bed.
A/N: Idk I've had this idea in my head for too long now and I need to exorcise it out of me with this little drabble or I'll never be able to get on with my life.
Forest Hills trailer park wasn't your usual stop after clocking out of work but after the day you’ve had you don’t have it in you to wait for the next bus back to your apartment. Your place is 30 minutes away but the journey is sure to take even longer in the current downpour.
Staying over at the trailer wasn't anything new. A spare key was entrusted to you years ago and you made use of it on days like this to crash at Eddie’s for convenience sake. The key came with the promise that you were welcome to anything you needed even if both Eddie and Wayne were away – shower, food, an extra change of clothes, what have you, and you needed them all today.
With Wayne out of town for a few days and Eddie due back in two hours you sink into auto pilot, weary down to the bone from your shift. Maybe that’s why it doesn’t feel as weird as it probably should when you started to undress in their kitchenette, hanging your work clothes over the back of a nearby chair, rummaging through the fridge in your bra and panties for a quick bite to eat before heading for the shower.
There wasn’t much in it besides beer since Wayne hadn’t been around to stock it. Eddie always preferred ordering take out over getting groceries – something you were going to nag him for again when you had the strength to do so.
Cereal it would have to be.
You located a box inside one of the cupboards, tipping the wheaty, sugary contents straight into your mouth without bothering with a bowl and spoon. It’s not lost on you how similarly you’re acting to Eddie right down to the unruly state of half undress, wiping crumbs off your lips with the back of your hand. If you finished off with a belch it'd be like he never left the trailer this morning.
The messy mouthfuls of cereal prove enough to silence the toad’s croak of hunger that'd been gurgling noisily inside your belly, putting the box away.
Traipsing through, feet dragging, you threw your clothes into the washer next along with your underwear, completely nude now in the Munson trailer as you made your way to the shower – but not before reaching out for Eddie's Garfield mug that sat on a nearby shelf, turning it around so that the cartoon cat's lazy smirk no longer faced you. For your modesty.
You try to keep the shower brisk, not wanting to use up all the hot water but with the way it sprays down on your aching body, the steam and heat combo soothing your poor sore muscles, it’s so blissful that you have to keep yourself from nodding off right there.
You did make use of Eddie’s body wash, some spicy, woodsy smelling thing in a jet-black bottle but you didn't dare use the two in one shampoo that sat in their shower caddy. It might have worked fine for Eddie and his wild mane but you knew better than to apply the stuff to your own hair. Fortunately, experience had taught you to carry a travel sized bottle filled with your own shampoo whenever you stayed over, working over your locks in a lather scented with cranberries and vanilla.
Stamina depleting by the second, toweling off and brushing your teeth takes the last sliver of energy out of you. Eyelids slipping, movements sluggish, limbs feeling too heavy for your own body to hold up – you’re shutting down whether you like it or not.
Dropping the damp towel on his bedroom floor, you intended to change, you really did. You’d even picked out one of Eddie’s washed t-shirts and a pair of boxers out of the laundry and set them down at the foot of the bed to put on before you made yourself comfortable but that’s not what happened.
Still nude, you crawl into bed, seeking warmth and soft comfort, numbed down to a kind of tunnel vision with rest being your one and only goal.
It feels all the more natural because you’re used to sleeping naked in your own bed, much too tired to remember that you’re not in your bed, draping a blanket that doesn't belong to you over your spent body, surrendering to sleep seconds after your head hits the pillow.
It'd still been raining when Eddie returns later. Dragging himself through the trailer, nearly as worn down as you had been, shaking the excess water out of his hair like a dog trying to get dry.
The smell of your shampoo still lingering in the air tells him you're there, finding you curled up in his bed, all bundled up to your neck. The sight makes him smile.
It doesn't take too long for him to join you, following a similar routine – a quick bite with the addition of a beer and then a shower, only he doesn't skip out on clothing himself in his PJ's first.
If he’d shared the blanket with you he might have found out about your lack of dress sooner but as the gentleman that he can sometimes be, he pulls out a spare blanket from the closet so as to not wake you, prolonging the discovery. Being friends for so long meant that sharing a bed was never awkward even after you'd became adults.
That was until the next morning came.
It’s not the stream of morning light brightening from a cool blue to a warm amber peeking in between the curtains that wakes Eddie, or even the tinny smack of his neighbor’s broken screen door gusting open just a few feet away from his bedroom window. It’s the warmth of your ass pressed flush against his crotch and his nose nestled in your sweet-smelling hair that pulls him out of a dream he wont be able to recall later if he tried.
He shifts closer, eyes cracking open, remembering the tiny bottle of shampoo sitting on the bathroom counter. Remembering the new toothbrush placed in the cup next to his own. Remembering the powder blue towel that neither he nor Wayne ever used laying on his bedroom floor.
And then he remembers that he’s not alone.
Oh...
And then he wishes that he was.
Panic snaps up like a beartrap around Eddie when he realizes he's hard – his thick, throbbing erection pressed right up against your body.
Growing clammy, cold sweat beads on the back of his neck but he’s in luck because you haven’t noticed yet, still sound asleep.
This close together, he knows the slightest movement could rouse you. But what was the alternative? Wait it out? Hope to hell his boner goes away? Fat fucking chance. Not when the soft swell of your ass and your body heat alone had him questioning how he could ever go back to his calloused fist after this.
Carefully, desperately, he tries to inch back without waking you but just as he feared, you begin to stir. Your back arches instinctively, seeking out his warm, solid frame even in your sleep.
Shit shit shit.
The covers slip as you shift, your bare shoulders coming into view, eyes starting to flutter open. With no other option, Eddie swiftly rolls on to his back, his hard on no longer pressed up against you but the problem persists.
“Oh, morning”, you greet him through a yawn, pulling an arm out to rub at your eyes, blanket slipping lower but the frantic boy hasn’t noticed yet, too busy whipping his pillow out from under him to place over his lap.
“Uh-hey. Shower’s free if you wanna go first”, he offers quickly, smiling hard, hoping to subtly usher you out because he's too afraid to get up and risk you getting a load of the tent in his pants if he were to go ahead of you.
“Thanks”, you yawn again, still occupied with rubbing at your sleepy eyes to notice your best friend's pale face turning beet fucking red in an instant as you clamber out of bed, blankets no longer concealing you.
Eddie doesn’t know where to look first. His eyes dart everywhere, every bare inch of you on display. So much soft, naked skin it’s making him short circuit.
His gaze eagerly travels over the slope of your breasts as they jiggle gently with your movements, taking in your soft nipples, moving down over your belly and hips, noticing a few new freckles and beauty marks there along the way to the soft curls between your legs.
His erection digs into the pillow, brain dangerously close to fizzing because he’d been pressed up against you like that all night and not even known it.
A shiver works its way through you, making you question why it feels so drafty in his room all of a sudden. You turn back to ask Eddie if there’s anything wrong with the heating, catching the shocked expression on his face.
Looking down, you're met with the sight of your nude body, breasts bare, no underwear. It's a good thing the occupants of the trailer park liked to mind their own business, even if sometimes you thought they did so to a fault because in any other neighborhood your piercing screech would have had everyone within earshot dialing up the cops.
The scream ricochets off the walls at an ear ringing volume, causing Eddie to jolt and lose his balance, falling out of bed while you leapt back in. Grabbing his spare pillow, you press one half against your chest and squeeze the rest between your thighs to shield yourself.
Now he slaps his hands over his eyes.
---
More than anything, you try so hard to push it aside. To pretend that it hadn't happened but it looms over you like a cloud on the brink of bursting with rain.
After three whole days of walking around eggshells around each other it's Eddie who breaks first.
"I can't stand this I don't know what else to do, Can we just talk about it please?"
“Eddie…", you sigh, a gentle warning.
"So what if I saw you naked? you saw my boner!...sort of. I mean, I guess that doesn't exactly make us even but it has to count for something, right? you're not alone in this"
You immediately set your wide eyes on the only other patrons in the diner to see if they’d overheard – two older women swapping pictures of their grandchildren over coffee and cheesecake. When neither of them take a pause in the middle of cooing about little Tommy's third Birthday or little Emily's first day of Kindergarten you redirect your attention back to Eddie.
“Eddie! Keep your voice down!”, you whisper shout at him from across the booth. "There are literal grandmother's here!"
He rolls his eyes. Not mean spirited, just unconcerned by the ladies and what they may or may not have overheard.
And then, even though no one’s paying either of you any attention, you lean closer over your half-finished key lime pie, one hand shielding the side of your face like you’re trying to avoid getting recognized by an ex who’s just walked in.
"I'm so embarrassed...please can we just drop it?", you plead, voice hushed.
He gives you this look of mild incredulity. "You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Trust me", and the inflection in his tone almost gives him away, prompting him to double back immediately.
The last thing he wants is for you to feel more uncomfortable than you already do. So he doesn't need you to catch on that he's got every moment of your unintended strip tease memorized. Or that he likes to replay what he's since thought of as the best 10 seconds of his life over and over again when he's fucking his fist in the shower.
“I just mean that it's nothing to be embarrassed by. It could have happened to anyone. Who among us hasn’t napped in just their birthday suit before, am I right?” he finishes with a slight wince, knowing none of this is exactly helpful.
And you know he’s only trying to be nice in his own, sweet, bumbling way but you still feel terrible.
"I don't know if I can shake this feeling", you cast your eyes down, looking too close to despondent for his liking.
"Listen I- I don't know how to fix this but I want to. Please just tell me what I can do and I'll do it, okay?"
God, he's sweet and it makes you feel a little flustered being on the receiving end of that gentle stare, needing to shift the mood lest you drown in all that earnestness pooling in his eyes.
It's moments like this that call for a bad joke to cut the tension, right? some momentary and well meaning deflection before you're ready to address the matter at hand again.
Letting out a half hearted laugh, you make your best attempt to inject some humor into the situation.
"I don't know. Maybe it might help if you got naked too", you nervously scraped your fork against the buttery graham cracker crust of your pie, dislodging a few golden crumbs.
It was so very clearly a joke. At least you had thought so. Eddie? not so much.
His brown eyes go wide, looking scandalized, his voice coming out a little more quite than you're used to.
"What?"
"I mean, I showed you mine after all", you tried again in a cadence that was wholly unserious but once again, he fails to catch on.
"You want me to get naked for you?"
You should correct him and you mean to but before you're able to do just that, something about the way he's staring at you makes you want to match his seriousness. The fact that he didn't say no right away strikes you as weirdly intriguing.
"You don't have to", you clarify, adding, "It's just that – well, you asked and I think it could maybe help? to really get us on even ground?”
The words that come out don't feel like you own – foreign to your ears even though they're said in your voice, with your own lips forming them and your own tongue curling around every syllable.
What the hell am I doing?
Eddie pauses. Seconds drag on like nails on a chalkboard as he taps a ringed finger thoughtfully on the edge of his empty plate smudged with faint traces of cream cheese and lime zest.
"Fine. On one condition", he leans back, arms crossing over his chest, smiling wide and megawatt bright.
Oh my god is this really happening?
“...Yeah?”
"You're going to undress me"
---
Part two? who knows. Certainly not I.
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Watermelon, Sugar!
cw: mentions of death, allusions to depression, fluff/angst
Third-Year!Suguru who gets sent on a mission to shadow the chirpy Second-Year student whose optimism he finds is nauseating. The same Second-Year student who waved at him, covered in blood, one hand pressed to her stomach in a vain effort to stop the bleeding after a mission. Grinning from ear to ear she says "You should see the other guy!"
Third-Year!Suguru who doesn't know whether to laugh or to tell her off. Luckily, he doesn't have the time to ponder as Nanami drags her away while making it known how stupid she was for stopping to have a conversation when she's minutes away from collapsing due to blood loss. "But I wanted to look cool!" He heard her whine.
Third-Year!Suguru who lets her lead, watching as she swiftly pins the Grade-I down. "Make sure not to exorcise it, I'll absorb it later." he calls out. The girl salutes him and is promptly thrown off by the curse. "That wasn't very nice." she huffs, offended. He thinks if the angry emoji was a person, that would probably be her now.
Third-Year!Suguru who waits for her to incapacitate the curse before exorcising it. As he's about to absorb the curse, he notices her scrunched up, disgusted face. "I really hope that tastes better than it looks." He chuckles at that, "I can assure you that it tastes worse than it looks." He sees her face fall at that. "Do you have to eat it? Can't you just store it in your belt or something? Like Pokeballs?"
Third-Year!Suguru who actually laughs at that. Pokeballs huh? The sentiment weirdly made him feel better. The feeling didn't last as the wretched taste came back to haunt him. The girl who saw everything in black and white, saw him grimace slightly at the taste. It was faint enough that if you weren't watching him as intently as her, you'd miss it.
Third-Year!Suguru who's left dumbfounded as the girl shoves her scythe into his hands, telling him to stay put as she ran off to god knows where.
Third-Year!Suguru who doesn't know how to react when she returns and hands him a small brown baggie, grinning like a child who got all the alphabets right. He peeks into the baggie with a raised eyebrow only to see the most brightly coloured candies shaped like watermelon slices. "Although they look like watermelons, they are strawberry flavoured. The artificial flavour is powerful enough to takeover all your senses, so much so that you'd wish it was the curse you'd eaten instead".
Third-Year!Suguru who tries one and is shocked at how accurate her description had been. The flavour was so disgustingly overpowering that it managed to mask the wretchedness he resigned to live with. "Was today so bad that you've resorted to torture?". She gasps, hands grasping her chest dramatically, "I wouldn't dare!" she says. "These are but the finest watermelon treats that a broke student's spare change can offer." She bows while offering up the rest of the candies. "I hope you enjoy them well!".
Third-Year!Suguru who mirrors her smile as he takes the candies from her. He looks at her cherry tinted lips wearing a satisfied smile. "You know," he begins as he steps closer, cupping her cheeks with one hand, squishing them lightly causing her lips to pucker. "If you were so worried about the taste.." he leans in "I can think of finer treats you could've offered".
Third-Year!Suguru who doesn't move as she stutters out something about reporting to Yaga and runs off, trying in vain to hide the blush she's now wearing. He looks at the candies in his hand, something so overpoweringly sweet to make his life a little less bitter. He smiles at the thought.
Third-Year!Suguru who sees the same candy filled bag next to her mangled corpse later that week.
an: baby's first fic!!!! feel free to send in critiques~ <3
#jjk x reader#jjk angst#jjk#geto suguru#geto x reader#jjk geto#suguru#angst#jujutsu kaisen#fanfiction#jjk fanfic#jjk smau#jjk headcanons
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TBHK Chapter 126 Analysis - The cost of a reckless wish
The Hourglass
The chapter begins with Nene flipping the Hourglass, but it not activating for a simple reason- According to last chapter, you need to make a wish first. The Hourglass simply didn't take effect because Nene hadn't made one.
So when the cat jumped in and saved her, explaining to Kako that it had only intervened because it relates to wanting to help- or save others. It was the wish of the one the cat had been before, and now it was Nene's. Because of the cat, the Hourglass now knew what Nene desired and, as a result, activated.
In essence, the Hourglass needed to know what the user wanted. Otherwise, how could it send Nene on endless loops, and, just like the other victims, have her soul waste away?
Along with information from the previous chapter, we have further confirmation that this Hourglass is nothing but an entity that, just like the pit god, wants to consume. In this chapter, it's shown directly- Nene is turned into sand as she is kept within the hourglass. It speaks to her.
"I am- We are- The Flow. Power. Time. Sand."
The Hourglass essentially boasts its capabilities; That it's a constant. That it's powerful. That it's limitless. And that's not the only thing. "I am- We are-" suggests that it's made up of a collective consciousness.
"Welcome! You have come to join us!"; It's not even trying to hide its goal, is it? To amass one more consciousness, one more soul within it, as it's made up of its users' corroded souls.
Did you know? Sand forms when rocks break down from weathering and eroding over thousands and even millions of years. But the Hourglass' process is faster than just waiting such an absurd amount of time. The moment Nene flipped the hourglass, the process had already begun. Along with the sand, Nene passes through it. Again and again. Again and again. Until her soul, slowly but surely, erodes into fine sand.
To put it in extremely simple terms, Kako was right. It's not an item that is actually capable of helping you reach your desired outcome. It dangles it in front of you like a carrot on a stick. That is all. It proves to you that it is capable of leading you to your desired result, but it doesn't allow you to reach it. No matter what you do, no matter how hard you think or how many times you try in desperation, you are unable to grasp the bait, the flicker of hope, in front of you.
One who sought riches would be killed by bandits. One who sought to gain someone's love ended herself and that someone. One who sought fame was killed by envy. One who wished to bring back people for the sake of someone else had that someone else disappear from existence. And one who simply wished to save her friends... Had them killed by her own hand.
But it's all right. For as long her soul is still in one piece, she can keep trying. Again and again and again... Wrapping her in its hands, pushing her down and continuing the slow process of corrosion. A fake "Good luck", an ironic one, fully aware of the end result.
Dehumanization
If you are familiar with my analysis of chapter 121, this is basically an expansion of it.
In it I talked about Amane's dehumanization process, how he is a victim of the Red House, a trapped soul who is unable to disobey, and also about having to kill his own family, his own little brother he loved so much, and then being forced into killing countless other people for the pit god which desensitized him completely.
Nene is directly put into Amane's shoes, where she fell victim to the Red House and was forced into its servitude. Unlike Kou in the past, who had been exorcised before he could harm the people he loved, Nene wasn't so lucky. She had to kill the friends she desperately attempted several times to save.
In this scene, Amane is projecting onto Nene, as she is in the same position as he once was. Holding onto her to prevent her from falling in a twisted way of providing comfort, possibly.
His assertion "See? I knew you could do it." suggested that a possessed Nene hesitated killing her loved ones, and maybe that struck a cord within him. That he had hesitated to kill his own family aswell, but he had no choice. That, just like him, she could do it. To further prove him right, that there's no meaning to life, death or anything else in this cursed house.
At that moment, The Red House had initiated a new feeder, freshly dehumanized. A kindred spirit.
Nene's sanity is frayed and she fell into despair. Her figure doesn't appear in the hourglass anymore as she flips the hourglass in a panic.
A new glimmer of hope (?)
Nene is now at her wits' end. She didn't even understand what had happened, only that she killed everyone. She can't figure out why. As a result, as she guessed, she would've repeated the same mistake.
However, a new hope emerges after she had been plunged into despair; The Clock Keeper of the Present. Will this hope be genuine and not just a carrot on a stick that Nene prepared to sacrifice everything for in vain?
Akane subtly reflecting in Nene's eyes reflect her desire to grasp on any sliver of hope she can find.

Thoughts and Predictions
Going a bit on an unserious remark, as a Re:Zero fan I absolutely loved this chapter. Subaru (who, if you don't know about the series, travels back to a point in time when he dies. He dies and suffers in various attempts to save the people he loves... A hell lot. He is unable to speak of this ability to others, so he suffers in silence.) has gained one more kindred spirit. I even illustrated this quick doodle of Nene and Subaru!

Back on topic, on the rare case that this is the worst she'll be through, it will permanently mentally scar her. Perhaps she might be able to put on a facade and pretend everything's fine, but no one is ever fine after being part of such horrors, having your friends die several times because of your failed attempts, and ultimately having them die by your very own hands. And if she's unable to speak about her experiences as this chapter suggested where she couldn't mention being from the future, then it's really over. I'm of the personal opinion that Iro will break Nene in order to further develop her character. Hit the bar as low as you possibly can, for your character to rise higher than ever before- That kind of technique. Every passing chapter seems to solidify this. Nene's flaws are tripping her up and making her horribly fail. She resolved to save everyone and fought by herself, but she was far too reckless in her desperation. Made a reckless decision of coming into contact with an entity that was properly explained as dangerous, had a hasty wish, and couldn't even figure out what actually needed to be changed after several attempts. She could only further fall into despair and break. I can't really put it into words properly as of now, but I can grasp what Iro wants to do with her character. Slowly, but surely, Iro has been working for this all along. Nene can no longer be ignorant of the world's cruelty. If she wants to understand and save everyone from it, she has to experience it for herself. Whether she gives up or stands back up as a result, it's a choice only she can make, isn't it?
As for Akane, as far as I can predict with the current information, there's 2 possibilities: 1. The Akane we see at the end is Akane of the 'original' timeline. The Clock Keepers' Boundary seems to be unaffected by changes in time (as it still exists despite the 7 Mysteries not existing in the new timeline), so if Akane stayed in there, then a Paradox could've been created where multiple "Akane Aoi" exist at the same time. 2. As the Clock Keeper of the Present, Akane is aware of all the attempts Nene made with the Hourglass, and as a result came to search for her after he died by her hands, aware of what just transpired. Both seem valid enough to me, so I'm honestly just curious. Can't wait until next chapter.
The cat's lines and interactions in chapter 126 further solidifies to me that it's related to Amane who had attempted to go back in time in 1968.
#hanako kun#tbhk#jshk#jibaku shounen hanako kun#toilet bound hanako kun#tbhk 126#jshk 126#yashiro nene#nene yashiro#jshk manga#jshk spoilers#tbhk spoilers#tbhk manga#amane yugi#yugi amane#akane aoi#aoi akane#clock keepers#kako#time travel#time loop#WELCOME TO THE SUFFERING TIME LOOPER FAMILY NENE. WE GOT SUBARU
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making audio fiction is really hard. making audio fiction that is also a 90s rock album and also a series of exorcisms is even harder.
since early 2023, I've been developing PHANTOM PULSE, a story about an aspiring band who exorcise ghosts with their music. last fall, we had the immense privilege to make a pilot proof-of-concept, which we've been pitching around since then.
but this show is expensive! it's high concept! it deals with very heavy themes! no one was clamoring to throw a 6-figure budget at us. so now I've got to figure out how to make it on my own.
in pursuit of that, I'm going to finally start talking about this story that I've been totally unhinged about for two years. you can listen to a snippet of the pilot proof-of-concept here and click on the show tag on this post to see what else I'm posting about it! (oh also I've been keeping a tumblr over at @phantompulseband for some chaotic vibes).
if you're a plus pal supporter of Atypical Artists, you already have access to the pilot to listen to!! I have no idea what form seeking funding for this show is going to take. probably some kind of crowdfund, but mostly I just need it out of my head and into other peoples' heads. so I imagine I'll post about it in the way I've been posting about my queer outlaw novel, desperate hollow.
rock on!
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⛧𝔖𝔞𝔪 𝔚𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔵 𝔐𝔞𝔩𝔢 ℜ𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯⛧
CW: NSFW, brief dubcon, angst
It was only two days. That was the agreement. That's how much you got of Sam Winchester. Two days and three nights and then he would pack up his life into his brother's shitty little flat-back impala and you would never see him again.
Until of course you saw him again.
You had friends over when he called. Squeezing past the group of 20 somethings wolf whistling at you as you went to pick up the landline meant that you were giggling when you picked up. You had set his number to a specific ring. It was the dial tone version of "Spooky boy like you" by Dusty Springfield. All your friends knew about Sam 'Sammy' Winchester, who had exorcised a cruel version of your reflection from your vanity mirror and then hadn't left your room for the rest of the weekend.
"Hey!" You answered, almost too excited as the box wine you had been drinking all night spurred on your mood.
"Hey," his voice was rough, like he'd used it up. "I'm in town, can I come over?"
You sobered quickly. "What's wrong?"
"I, um," you twisted the cord of the phone tightly between your two fingers. "Can I come over?" He asked again, desperate.
"Yes."
It took a bit of cajoling to get your company out, but you had the place mostly cleaned out by the time your doorman rang up to let you know a tall man with long brown hair was waiting downstairs for you.
He looked tired. His body hunched downwards, shoulders drooping. He looked good with the 5 o'clock shadow he was sporting.
Oh sweetheart, you wanted to say, what happened?
Instead you said: "come in."
He tipped forward, nuzzling into your neck. There was a wet stripe up your jaw and behind the shell of your ear. "Sam," you muttered under your breath, sure there was something more important to talk about. Hard to remember when the best sex of your life was rubbing his thigh up against your crotch. His arms circled your slim biceps, squeezing, almost shy of painful as he lifted you up onto your kitchen counter.
Hands unbuckling and unwinding, you let this moose of a man strip you on your kitchen counter. There was a second there that you both took to breathe, foreheads pressed together as his small way of asking "is this okay?" You nodded against his mouth and pulled his body flush against yours.
He prepped you like a man in front of his last meal. Quick and yet savoring. Rough but so attentive you had begun to squeal by the end of it. When he was inside you, there wasn't a second to breathe before he was hauling you on top, using the leverage of the flat mattress and his grip on your waist to bounce you like a rag doll. It wasn't at all like you remembered. He was too fast, jack rabbiting into you and hitting all the wrong spots. You had begun to realize the cruel way his fingers pressed into your lower back, digging and bruising. His sweet face was twisted up into a snarl and he frowned like he was waiting to get it over with.
You weren't having fun anymore.
"Sam stop!" You put your hands over his and squeezed. "You're hurting me!"
He immediately stilled, back still arched as you felt his stuttering heart in your abdomen.
"What?" He blinked up at you, almost out of a daze.
"You're hurting me." You said in a smaller voice.
Something snapped then. Sam's eyes crooning into a dip, his lip turning white from the way he was biting into it.
"I am?" He sounded devastated, truly and honestly devastated. His grip was loose, still around you but shaking. You should have stopped him the moment you realized something was wrong. It was too late now, he was still hard and wanting inside you and you weren't enough of a good person to kick him out. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound.
"Okay, were okay baby. Just a little slower yeah?" You began to grind your hips downwards, letting the tip of his cock kiss something deep inside you. His eyes rolled back and you felt a full body shiver underneath you.
You fell forward when he bucked into you, almost like he couldn't help but crawl deeper. You had both arms on either side of his head, his mouth panting into yours. "Press here, like that." You put his hand on the bottom of your abdomen, pressing his fingers into the gap between his dick and your happy place. You screamed when you came, gripping onto Sam's shaggy cut as you're back arched. You were never sure if it was the hair pulling, the scream, or the the way you tightened up like a corkscrew that set him off but suddenly there was a silky feeling dripping out of you and Sam was sobbing into your shoulder.
"Oh baby you're okay." You soothed where you had been pulling at his roots. You were still out of breath, still impossibly full. "We're good, I'm here." He had both arms pressing you into his chest, keeping your head over his shoulder so you couldn't see his face. You had to force your way up, pulling out of his hold to look at the bloodshot look he was trying to hide into the pillow.
"Lets get some sleep. We'll talk about it in the morning." You used what little strength you had to flip the two of you over, in part so Sam was lying over you like a heated blanket and also so the threat of the ever soggier bed sheet was further away.
"Okay." His voice was raspy but sweet. You were glad to have Sam Winchester for one more weekend.
#fanfic#smut#supernatural#sam winchester#x male y/n#x male reader#x male smut#bottom male reader#light angst#this is set after ruby dies and Sam lets Lucifer free#oh spoilers ig#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester x y/n#sam winchester x male reader
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DPXDC Prompt# 5- War between Warlocks
-A dichotomy I love has always been hard worker vs natural talent, so let's take this running.
Constantine spent the day lying on his couch. A new pack of beer and smokes are beside him while he's watching one of Z's performances while she's off world. A usual partly cloudy in Liverpool.
It was nice....
-Or it would've been nice if he couldn't recall who he saw. Correction, who he thought he saw. Because there was no bloody way that magic-wielding bastard survived. ...
Shut up.
It wasn't real. It couldn't have been real.
But karma was a bitch and it was making itself known.
For once in his life, John's phone was still.
Nobody.
Nobody has reached out to him to exorcise anything for a week and he was slowly losing his shit. Looks like he has to go out and find out for himself. ---
Danny couldn't help but laugh.
That marks his 10th exorcism this week, and he could already see the con man pulling his hair out when he just chose to take a little weight off an old 'friend's' shoulders while he's on his vacation from ghost king business.
He must be pissed.
It couldn't be helped. Danny's natural disposition made magic a breeze. He's one of the most occult things there is, after all. If he can't dodge it all, he might as well embrace it. Who could've guessed it would come with the scruffiest blonde with a fun accent getting on his case? John Constantine. A delight to watch work and in bed. That's all in the past now, anyways. Sometimes, he just needed to take a minute to remind himself that he's human, too. What better way to do than to fuck with the one person he's felt most like that with?
He felt horrible thinking his last moment with John was going to be looking at the desperation and fear written all over his face. No need for that now. The spark of a locator spell flickered off his barrier on the rooftop. He cackled as he heard John's "I BLOODY KNEW IT!" through the streets. The phone in his pocket buzzed again. John really was such a busy man. He ensured the non-teleportation tattoo he made last time hadn't faded before hopping to the next roof and answering. "This is Hex speaking. I've stolen John's phone, but I can assure you I can get the job done ten times easier than he can." Making his way out of a portal on the roof he left, "I can hear you, cheeky bastard!" "That's the point, dipshit!" Danny stuck out his tongue and kept moving. Tsk. Barely 5 minutes to catch up. Looks like he's getting rusty. Oh well, nothing a little refresher and practice can't fix.
Thus began the reunion between a king and a con man.
#dpxdc#dc x dp crossover#aged up characters#danny phantom#ghost king danny#Hex#john constantine#zatanna#magical reunion#danny is a little shit#Dapper Danny#Scruffy Constantine#magical playdate#without the play#He totally plotted this with Zatana and nobody can change my mind#She's getting paid with videos#Danny making his ex look like a bumblefuck#If she gets two boyfriends out of this#she's calling it a win#magical mischief#Give me Bi danny#I give you the power throple the world NEEDS#Can I really call these prompts if I like giving them short stories too#Probably not but who cares
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