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notiddygothgf · 4 months ago

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SEX IS FREE (her)

★ pairings: nanami kento x f! reader

★ synopsis: In the search for solace, Nanami stumbles right into the arms of an exotic dancer. In the search for money, an exotic dancer finds more than she bargained for. In the heat of the moment, a contractual relationship turns into something more. (or; the one where sugar daddy!nanami is sweet on his girl)

★ c.w.: nanami being sexy asf, suggestive content, mentions of sex (more content warnings and tags)

★ a/n: HIIIIII omg so i can explain the hiatus lol.... it was totally unintentional. i wound up getting super depressed over school and then fell into a chainsaw man hyperfixation (read shameless, its an aki ff i wrote youll love it). I FINALLY PICKED THIS STORY UP AGAIN because for some reason it's been getting a lot of attention recently??? lol anyway! your comments inspired me to continue writing it (though i cant promise that i'll update quickly, i AM a full time student so #bepatientwithme).

I was salivating over Nanami in this chapter if you couldnt tell lol.... but enjoy!!! keep those comments coming! who knows, maybe i have another chapter stored away and will update a little earlier....... x

★ w.c.; 5.6k

my kinda love; chapter index

‘AND I’M BAD LIKE THE BARBIE. I’m a doll, but I still wanna party,’

“Donnie, baby, you in there?”

“Yeah!” You called back, loud enough for your coworker to hear through the door. You pressed the tube of red lipstick against your bottom lip, peering into the mirror, filling in the outline you had done in black. When you didn’t receive an immediate answer, you continued humming along to the song playing quietly from your phone. “Pink vette like I’m ready to bend. ‘Imma ten so I’m pullin a ken, likeee.”

Your coworker entered the dressing room – you were the only one there. Most of the other girls from the afternoon shift had gone home already.

“Some dude wants to rent you,” She told you.

“No. I don’t do private rooms,” You replied without even looking back. You knew who she was. You weren’t the biggest fan. “I’m good, Mandy.”

“He asked specifically for you,” She added. “Offered a lotta money, too. Helluva lot more than we normally charge.”

You froze up at that. Initially, your first thought was to send her off a second time. Then, you thought of her running off with your money.

“Is he one of them greasy, sleazy old guys?” You asked. It was wild, how quickly you perked up when you heard that. “Last guy was throwin’ himself onto me. I should’ve filed a police report.”

“Oh, stop your ‘bitchin,” The girl sighed. “He’s paying 200 just to see your ass.”

If you had a tail, it would have started wagging.

What? A girl had bills to pay. “So he is a greasy old pervert.”

“No, actually. He’s a fine, young thing. Well, not young, but younger than most of the guys we usually get back here,” She trailed off in thought. You watched her body move in the corner of the mirror. “Sexy as hell. Serious, businessman type. Tall, blond, handsome, a jawline that could cut paper,” here, she bent over, leaning over you and muttering the next words into your ear, “I could always take him off your hands, y’know.”

“As if,” You replied. Spinning the chair back around, you got up. “Better not be expecting nothing extravagant. I’m considering this overtime.”

With a deep breath, standing in front of the cherry red door, your heart began to pound against you chest. It was some strange mixture of nerves and excitement you felt as you raised your hand to knock.

Here goes nothing. You reached for the doorknob and entered the private room, turning back only to lock it behind you.

“Special delivery!” you crooned, trying to embody a playful tone to mask the jittery feeling within. When you turned around to face the client, you were caught by surprise.

Your wide eyes traced over a familiar silhouette – broad shoulders, perfectly-fitted, navy blue two-piece suit that clung to his large arms, and matching slacks that clung to his legs – his widespread, casual position hinted at sophistication. A pretty, sharp, angular face framed by neatly-cropped blond hair. A tasteful timepiece on his wrist caught your eye.

Narrow eyes obscured by peculiar glasses, chiseled cheekbones and jawline. His blond hair – framing his apricot skin – was done up carefully, perfectly, sweeping over his head like a ray of sunlight. You recognized him by his signature scowl.

He came back for more?

You liked your lips, trying to play it cool (like you hadn’t been waiting for him to come back). “Oh, hey, it’s you again,” you said with a smirk. Strutting over to him, you cooed, “Couldn’t stay away?”

He’s so fucking hot.

Though his response wasn’t verbal, the pink hue that dusted his face was not lost on you. You swayed your hips from side to side. “Can you give me somethin’ to work with? I don’t usually do these rooms, you know.”

The devastatingly handsome man swallowed, fixing his gaze on the door – the one you had locked on the way in. As you worked your way between his legs, teasingly dragging your hands up and down your body, his gaze wandered back to you. Shamelessly, you reveled in the attention – studying his reaction.

You could smell his cologne from here – again – and, shit, it made your head spin all over again. The warm notes lingered beneath the collar of his dress shirt. Amber. Wood. Musk. Something dark?

“So I’ve heard,” The man replied, finally breaking his silence. His voice was a revelation – deep, mellow, and smooth, carrying a certain tone of weariness that seemed to add to his enigmatic charm. Charm? Yes, you supposed he charmed you.

He loosened his tie and undid the top button on his shirt to let some fresh air in. The action drew your attention to his neck, provoking you to take a moment to appreciate the details your coworker had emphasized: Tall, blond, with a jawline that could indeed cut paper.

You were wretched. You had to have been. This is so wrong.

“You seem tense,” You remark, making your second attempt at breaking the ice. “You’re new to the scene, aren’t you?”

The handsome stranger – Nanami, if you remembered correctly – licked his lips, drawing mindless shapes over the deep-toned fabric that covered his knee. “Is it that obvious?” he asks, a faint smile playing on his lips.

The movement did not go unnoticed.

“A little,” You huffed out a quiet laugh. “Do you want a dance? We could just sit and chat, too, if you want. I don’t mind. I know your type tend’ta like talking.”

You couldn’t control the way your eyes flitted down over his toned thighs – mind hazy with unwelcome thoughts. The temptation to crawl into his lap a second time was strong, but you reminded yourself of the situation – he was your roommate’s teacher, for fuck’s sake. Your roommate’s handsome… muscular… expensive-looking teacher… with a deep, sexy voice that you could hardly resist.

You must have been ovulating. That was the only excuse.

“I won’t make you put on a show for me,” Nobara’s professor trailed off, eyes distant, clearly lost in thought. He seemed to snap out of it after a moment, pretty brown eyes peering into yours – they looked so dark up close. “As crazy as it sounds, I only wanted to speak to you.”

Your sultry facade cracked a bit at that, surprised by the sudden turn of the conversation. From your experience, men usually came here with only one thing in mind. He wanted to talk… to you. Oh my god.

You nearly squealed. Clearing your throat and pressing your legs together, you turned to hide your flustered face from the older man. “Alright,” you said. “You have 30 minutes.” Plopping down on the couch next to him, you threw your legs over his lap. “What’s your name, handsome stranger?”

You already knew his name. Still, to keep up appearances, you played coy with him. You knew that, reasonably, there was no reason you should be continuing to entertain him — financial commpensation aside, though you could always reimburse him. You should have turned back the moment you realized it was him.

Then again… he had come to see you. It wasn’t like he knew you were his student’s roommate, but that was besides the point. That alone was moral justification enough for you.

The stiff man had his eyes trained on the spot where your legs had been thrown haphazardly over his. Then, nervously, he answered, “Nanami. Kento.”

Kento. You liked that name. It rolled off the tongue real easy — a buttery smooth name for a man as composed as him.

“Nice to meet you Nanami… Kento,” You chipped, mimicking his prose. “Donetta DiVine. I’m sure you already knew that, though. Do you wanna start, or should I?”

Nanami Kento knitted his brows. “Start…?”

You rolled your eyes rather playfully, giving his leg a nudge with your heel. You had ditched the stage platforms for a smaller pair of stilettos. “What do you do for a living?”

He licked his lips. After a brief pause, he answered, “I can’t really say, but I teach on the side.”

“Ooh— mysterious…” You grinned. Leaning into the couch, you braced your chin on your hand, staring into his eyes. It didn’t take much effort to play the role of the ‘interested’ siren like it normally did. Not with him. “You already know what I do,” You added, “You look tired.”

His brown eyes widened with surprise.

Shit, I overstepped.

You took your statement back quickly, “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, it’s not—“ He trailed off. Something in his harsh expression softened. “You’re right. Just the first person to notice.”

If your attraction to the man had been any more obvious, you would’ve been waving a sign around with his name on it.

“Really? You’ve got such tired eyes,” You continued anyway. You figured you would at least try to make the most of this half hour with him. “Wanna talk about it?”

He sighed, “Where would I even begin?”

“Your week?” You answered, making a rolling gesture with your spare hand. “How… how was it?”

He looked equal parts confused and intrigued by you, quirking a perfecftly arched brow before clearing his throat. “My week was alright. I started work again after taking a leave of absence for a few months.”

“No kidding…” You trailed off. It didn’t take much to make your interested tone seem real, as you felt nothing but the most genuine sense of interest while listening to him drone on in that deep, raspy voice of his. You could have listened to it for hours. “What happened?”

Something flashed in his eyes. It was quick, fleeting – you almost missed it. “Workplace injury,” He sighed. “If it’s alright, I’d rather not go into detail about it.”

This guy’s like a brick wall.

“Did you heal up okay?” You asked, eyes wide and prying.

He didn’t seem to mind you much. That was a good sign.

“Had to undergo some minor surgery but, yes, I’m fine. Thank you for asking,” He smiled, actually smiled, and it made your chest stir with something unfamiliar. He was devastatingly handsome – the kind of handsome you kept in a little locket in your pocket when you went to war, or something like that. “My bosses have been pressuring me to come back ever since I left. One superior of mine in particular… has been a nuisance. I was under the impression that sick leave was supposed to be a period of peace… but I guess I thought wrong.”

You laughed at his attempt at humor. It came easily to you. Too easily. “I know how you feel. I busted my ass a few months ago. Twisted my ankle real bad,” You raised your leg off of his lap, twirling your stiletto heel around in the air, cutting through it like a knife. “These things are deadly. Boss gave me a solid two days before he started blowing up my phone asking when I was going to be back. It’s like… can you let me live?”

He laughed, then – really laughed, the kind that made his chest rumble, head thrown back against the cushiony couch. And as he released the melodious sound that made your head spin, his eyes creased at the corners. The experience gap between the two you couldn’t have been more apparent. He was a grown man, hardened by years of trials and tribulations – a mysterious one, at that. And there you were, a naive little dancer with your legs strewn over his lap like he was a partner and not a client. He seemed so wise beyond his years, something only accentuated by the tiredness in his eyes. You longed to hear him drone on about his life a little longer, 30 minutes be damned.

“My superior and I actually went to highschool together. He’s been up my ass as long as I can remember,” He hummed, licking his lips, and you followed the path of his tongue as it wet the skin like a hungry feline.

“Which superior?” You asked, mindlessly picking at the fabric of the velour couch beneath you. “The one you were here with last time? With the white hair?”

When the man knit his brows together, you froze up. Shit. I just gave myself away.

There was a brief, tense pause, during which you tried to focus on the music playing from the speakers, the jazzy tune, the faint remnants of a song playing in the showroom outside and up the hall, the wallpaper – anything but him.

“Yes, that would be him,” He answered, finally. He seemed to be… intrigued by you. Yes, that’s what it was – his half-lidded amber gaze lingered on your face for a moment too long. “You’re very perceptive.”

You cleared your throat. “So, this job of yours… do you like it?”

“I despise it,” He sighed, like he had been waiting his entire life to confess those words. “But, at least, I figure I’m doing something meaningful with my life. You could say I’m a professor on the side.”

I already know that, You thought. Still, he didn’t have to know you knew.

“It’s a demanding job, but I enjoy feeling like I’ve made a difference,” He continued on. “Unfortunately, after the incident, I had to take some time away from the kids to recover.”

“You seem to enjoy teaching,” You answered back, perching your chin on your hand against the back of the couch.

“Sometimes,” He replied. “Other times, the work can be unbearable,” He looked up, then, pretty brown eyes on yours in a way that had your heart skipping more than a couple of beats. You could practically feel the way they burned right through your extroverted facade, saw past the layers of glitter and scanty clothes and deep into the abyss in your chest. See who you really were.

It was him who turned to you, then, asking you, “What about you?”

“Me?” You asked, just to make sure you’d heard him correctly. A client? Caring about your experience at work? That was… dizzyingly rare.

“Yes, you,” He reiterated with the faintest hint of a smile on his lips. “Do you enjoy working here?”

Do I…? You took a moment to consider your answer. You could lie to him – preserve the perfect, sexual image the women in your company were expected to uphold. That was always an option. But, the moment you peered into those all-knowing, tired eyes of his, you found that you didn’t have it in you to lie to him. No, not when he had been so honest with you.

No one’s ever asked me that before.

Before you could catch yourself, the words were already leaving your lips. “Not really, but it pays the bills.”

His eyes softened at that. He didn’t look the least bit upset by your words. If anything, he looked as if he had grown suddenly tender with a sense of understanding. Women didn’t often join your line of work. Not unless they were desperate for money. He seemed mature enough to realize that – to see right past the fantasy you were supposed to paint for him and peer into your eyes like windows into your soul. One look at him, and you knew he didn’t see you as a dancer.

He saw you as a person. As a woman.

You broke the moment with a hum, “Why don’t you keep telling me about your week?” You asked, changing the subject, shifting the conversation back into comfortable territory.

The rest of the half-hour with Nanami flew by like a fleeting dream. He spoke with a quiet ease, his voice low and steady, yet somehow captivating. He complained about the inefficiencies at work—endless meetings that led nowhere, piles of paperwork that seemed to multiply overnight, and colleagues who turned simple tasks into impossible challenges. Yet, when he talked about his students, something in his tone softened, revealing a warmth that made your chest ache. You found yourself asking questions, small ones at first, but each answer drew him out more. The way he spoke—measured, thoughtful, with just the faintest edge of weariness—made you want to listen forever. For someone who seemed so guarded, he had a surprising amount to say, and you realized how much you liked hearing him talk.

You didn’t even notice how much time had passed until a sharp knock interrupted the quiet cocoon of your conversation.

“Donnie? You okay in there? Your 30 was up ten minutes ago.”

It was your coworker.

“I’m good!” You called back, swinging your legs off of Nanami’s lap, turning to him with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I completely lost track of time.”

“No, it’s alright. I should have been checking my watch,” He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, long fingers combing through the buzzed, blonde strands of his undercut like wind blowing through a field of wheat. Then, after glancing down at his watch, he stood up, cleared his throat, and straightened out his suit jacket. “Thank you for your time.”

You hadn’t moved from your spot on the couch, brows furrowed. “That’s it?”

You had half expected him to extend the time. The conversation was going so well, you had silently found yourself hoping that he would lean over and do something – place his strong hand on your thigh, brush his fingers up your arm, anything. No-touching policy be damned.

You would make an exception for him. Men that fine don’t just grow on trees.

So, trying your best to lure him back in, you kicked one leg over the other, crawling into a sexy pose on the couch. In the most sultry tone you could manage, you breathed, “Is that really all you wanted?”

Please ask me for a lapdance, You found yourself wishing internally.

He paused, looking back at you like he wasn’t the least bit phased by the sexy pose or the outfit or… well, anything. “Yes, why?”

“Nothing, I don’t know, I just… You spent so much money tonight to be here,” You uttered, suddenly bashful when he was peering down at you like that – he was so much taller than you, a height gap that was only emphasized by your seated position on the couch below him. You imagined you would have to stand on the tips of your toes to be at eye level with his neck, maybe his chin. Mindlessly, you caressed the couch. “I figured you would have at least wanted a lap dance, or something.”

“I’m not going to make you do something that neither of us are interested in doing,” He said, sliding his hands down over his slacks to straighten out the creases that had formed in them where your legs had been resting only a moment earlier. “Sex is free. It’s rare to find someone who’s willing to listen.”

You sat there, stunned into silence, still in that sexy pose on the couch, your body frozen in the aftermath of his words. His calm, unbothered demeanor completely threw you off balance, leaving you scrambling to make sense of what had just happened. Men like him didn’t come in here looking for conversation. They came in here for fantasies, for attention, for touch. But not him.

“Thank you for everything,” he said softly, bowing his head slightly in a gesture so gentlemanly it made your stomach twist. Then, without another word, he moved to the door, unlocking it with smooth precision.

You didn’t even have time to gather yourself before he slipped out, leaving you sitting there in your sultry pose, legs crossed, mouth slightly open. The sound of the door closing behind him echoed in the room, final and undeniable.

You blinked, your mind racing, the moment replaying over and over in your head. Did I just get… emotionally blue-balled?

The thought hit you like a ton of bricks, both incredulous and a little amused at how absurdly fitting it was. You flopped back against the couch, your sultry act forgotten, staring up at the ceiling as the jazzy tune from the speakers drifted lazily through the air.

For the first time, a client had left you feeling something you couldn’t quite put into words. You couldn’t decide if you were more annoyed, intrigued, or just completely thrown off your game.

All you knew was that you wanted more.

DARREN: Hey imu.

DARREN: U busy tn?

YOU: I’m working but I get out early. Y.

DARREN: let me pick u up after work

DARREN: maybe i can help you ease some of that stress.

Darren rolled off of you with a huff and an exhale, proud of himself. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the backside of his elbow, sighing, “That was great. Did you cum?”

“Yeah,” You liked straight through your teeth. Feeling vulnerable, you reached for your shirt and slipped it back on. There was a point in time where the two of you would sleep skin-to-skin after sex. A point in time long ago, of course, but you couldn’t help but reflect. Now, all that was left was a feeling of discomfort where the intimacy used to be.

He flopped down onto the bed next to you, throwing his arm around your waist. Not moving a muscle, you trained your gaze on the ceiling above, hoping that maybe, if you spent enough time counting the dots in his popcorn ceiling, he would see that you did not, in fact, enjoy the experience. You doubted he would do anything to fix it even if he did know.

52, 53, 54.

You had been counting for the past five minutes – thirty seconds after he had grunted the words, “Let’s do missionary” into your ear before flipping you over. Truthfully, you hadn’t wanted to do missionary. That would mean that he could see you and, more importantly, that you had to look at him. So, to pass time and to avoid his gaze, you looked up at the ceiling, allowing yourself to be carried away by the tides of pleasure that his strokes gave you.

55, 56, 57.

He buried his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling. “You smell like a man’s cologne.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “I work at a strip club.”

With a groan, Darren rolled onto his back, finally putting a comfortable distance between you and him. “Don’t remind me. I’ve been telling you that you’re wasting your talents at a place like that.”

Your jaw tightened. There it was, the same old Darren: judgment wrapped in concern, but laced with the unspoken assumption that he knew what was best for you.

You slipped off the bed, grabbing your phone from the nightstand. The cool floor against your bare feet helped ground you.

Unlocking your phone, you typed a message to Nobara, your roommate:

Can you come get me? I’m at my ex’s.

The response came almost instantly:

Girl, r u srs?

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard before you replied:

I’ll explain later, ik, just pls… I wanna gtfo of here.

Sliding the phone into the pocket of your hoodie, you turned back to Darren. He was staring at the ceiling now, one arm slung across his chest, his fingers idly tapping against his bicep. For a moment, you hesitated. The familiarity of this scene—him in his sweatpants, you in one of his old T-shirts—was a cruel reminder of how things used to be. But you weren’t that girl anymore.

“I think I should go,” you said, breaking the silence.

Darren’s head snapped toward you. “No, wait,” he said, sitting up. His hair was tousled, his expression almost pleading. “Please… I really want you to stay.”

You crossed your arms, keeping your distance. “Why?”

“Because…” He raked a hand through his hair, his voice quieter now. “I don’t know. I thought things were going good between us.”

You blinked, then let out a short, humorless laugh. “Things? Darren, I come here, we have sex, and then I leave. That’s it. That’s all this is.”

“Is that all I am to you?” His voice carried a tinge of desperation, his eyes searching yours.

You tilted your head, studying him. “Or maybe,” you said slowly, “you’re asking if there’s any chance of us getting back together.”

“Yeah.” His voice cracked slightly, and he swallowed hard. “Is there?”

You laughed again, colder this time, shaking your head. “No. There isn’t.”

His jaw clenched, and he looked away for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was sharp. “That’s not fair. I’ve done so much for you—”

“Done so much?” Your voice rose, and you stepped closer, anger bubbling to the surface. “You don’t give me shit but dick and attitude, Darren.”

He flinched, but you didn’t stop. “You wanna know what’s not fair? The fact that you went and knocked me up and then forced me to have an abortion. Where the hell were you during that, huh? Seeing as you’ve done so much for me?”

He sat frozen, his lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out. His eyes darted toward the floor, guilt pooling in their depths.

“And you wanna know what’s really unfair?” Your voice cracked, but you didn’t care. The words spilled out like a flood you couldn’t contain. “The fact that you fucking cheated on me when I needed you the most. That’s what’s not fair, Darren.”

Darren stared at you, his face contorted with frustration. “That’s not fucking fair,” he snapped, his voice rising.

“Oh, fuck you, Darren,” you shot back, your hands trembling as you pointed at him. “What else do I have to do to show you I’m done? What else do I have to say?”

“I’m trying!” he yelled, stepping closer. “I’ve been fucking trying! But nothing I do is ever good enough for you, is it? You’re so goddamn impossible!”

You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “You call this trying? You call cheating, lying, and gaslighting me trying?”

“God, you’re such a fucking idiot,” he spat, his words sharp enough to cut. “You act like you’re perfect, like you’ve never made a mistake in your goddamn life.”

“I’m not perfect, Darren,” you hissed, stepping forward, your voice shaking with anger. “But at least I own my shit. At least I don’t treat the people I love like they’re disposable!”

“Oh?” he scoffed, throwing his hands in the air. “You think you’re so much better than me? You’re the one who keeps coming back. So what does that make you, huh?”

The room was thick with tension, and for a moment, neither of you moved. Then he muttered under his breath, “Pathetic.”

Your blood boiled. “What did you just say?”

“You heard me,” he said, his tone dripping with venom.

“Fuck you, Darren!” you screamed, shoving him hard against the chest.

His expression darkened. “You don’t get to do that,” he snarled.

Before you could react, he grabbed your wrist and pushed you away. The force of it sent you stumbling back, and you hit the edge of the dresser, pain shooting up your arm as you fell to the floor.

“Wait, I…” His face shifted, panic flickering in his eyes. He took a step toward you, his hand outstretched.

You scrambled to your feet, holding your arm where it throbbed. “You know what? I’m done.” Your voice was quieter now, but no less firm. “I’m done, Darren.”

“Wait—”

“No!” you shouted, cutting him off. “Go fuck yourself!”

“Please,” he said, his voice cracking. “Don’t let us go. We had something special. You know that.”

You stared at him, disbelief flooding your chest. Then you laughed—a cruel, hollow sound. “If you thought this was anything more than sex, then you’re the fucking idiot.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but you were already grabbing your stiletto boots from the floor.

“We can make it work,” he said desperately, following you as you stormed out of his apartment.

“Make it work?” you echoed, spinning around to face him as you reached his car. “Make it work?” You hefted one of your boots in your hand. “Make this fucking work!”

Before he could respond, you hurled the boot at his car window. The glass shattered on impact, the sound ringing out like a scream in the still night.

The car alarm blared, its shrill wailing cutting through the silence. Darren stood frozen, his mouth agape.

“Shit,” he muttered, rushing toward the car.

You grabbed your other boot and slung it over your shoulder. “Fix that, asshole!” you yelled as you walked away, the sound of the alarm trailing behind you.

“Her!” Darren called after you, but you didn’t turn around.

You kept walking, the cold air biting at your skin, the adrenaline coursing through you keeping you upright. Your arm throbbed where you’d hit it, but you didn’t stop. You didn’t look back.

You made it about halfway home before the exhaustion hit you like a freight train. Your legs wobbled, and you collapsed onto the curb, cradling your arm as the tears you’d been holding back finally spilled over.

Your phone buzzed weakly in your pocket. Nobara’s name lit up the screen.

“Where the hell are you?” she demanded as you answered, her voice sharp but tinged with worry.

You gave her your location, your words slurred with exhaustion and pain. “I can’t— I just can’t walk anymore.”

“Stay put,” she said firmly. “I’m coming to get you.”

By the time her car pulled up, you were slumped against a lamppost, your eyes half-closed. Nobara jumped out, wrapping her jacket around your shoulders as she helped you to your feet.

“What the hell happened?” she asked, her tone softer now.

You shook your head, too drained to explain. “I’m hungry. I’ll tell you later.”

“Let’s stop and get you something to eat,” She didn’t press further, guiding you into the car. As the city lights blurred past, you stared out the window, the events of the night replaying in your mind like a bad dream.

The car was warm, the quiet hum of the heater and the golden glow of streetlights spilling through the windshield easing the tension in your chest. You cradled your injured arm as Nobara maneuvered through the drive-thru, shooting you occasional glances.

“You want the usual?” she asked as she pulled up to the intercom.

“Yeah. Large fries, nuggets, and a Coke,” you murmured, leaning your head back against the seat.

She placed the order, and soon you were pulling into a parking spot under the dim glow of the lot’s overhead lights. The smell of greasy goodness filled the car as she handed you the bag, cracking open a box of nuggets for herself.

“So,” she said, dipping a nugget into a cup of barbecue sauce. “You gonna tell me what the hell happened back there, or do I just have to assume you went full-on ‘Carrie’ at prom?”

You snorted, the first genuine laugh you’d had all night. “Something like that.”

“Well, shit.” She popped the nugget into her mouth. “Guess I missed a show.”

You sighed, staring at the fries in your lap. “It’s over. For real this time.”

“Good,” Nobara said firmly. “That guy was a walking red flag.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Speaking of red flags…” You smirked as an idea popped into your head. “You’ll never believe what happened at work today.”

Her eyes narrowed as she dunked another nugget. “Oh, this should be good. Spill.”

You leaned back, a grin playing on your lips. “I got booked for a private room.”

Nobara froze mid-bite. “I thought you didn’t do those?”

“I don’t,” you said, shrugging. “But they offered me a shit ton of money. Guess who it was.”

Her brows furrowed in confusion. “Who?”

You couldn’t help but draw it out for dramatic effect. “Your teacher.”

Her jaw dropped, and the nugget in her hand fell back into the box. “No way, Bitch.”

You nodded, trying to keep a straight face.

“What did he want? Is he, like, a total pervert or something?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No, actually. He just wanted someone to talk to.”

Nobara blinked, clearly baffled. “Huh.”

“I know, right?” you said, grabbing a nugget. “Easiest money I’ve ever made.”

“Damn,” she muttered, chewing thoughtfully. “I never took him as the emotional type.”

“Don’t go telling your friends, though,” you warned, wagging a finger at her. “He told me some pretty heavy shit.”

Nobara tensed, her expression flickering with something you didn’t catch as you reached for your Coke. “Like what?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Like hell if I’d tell you.”

“Oh, come on!” she said, pouting dramatically. “I won’t tell anyone!”

You smirked, leaning back in your seat. “I’m not risking it. Client confidentiality or whatever.”

“Ugh, you’re no fun,” she groaned, but there was a smile tugging at her lips.

You both sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the car filled with the sound of crinkling wrappers and occasional laughter.

“Hey,” Nobara said suddenly, looking at you out of the corner of her eye. “You’re okay, right?”

You hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. I think I will be.”

She smiled, a small, genuine one. “Good. ‘Cause if you ever go back to that asshole, I’m slashing his tires.”

You laughed, the sound bubbling up before you could stop it. “Deal.”

As you both dug into the last of the nuggets, the weight of the night seemed to lift, replaced by the warmth of greasy food and a friend who always had your back.

a/n: and there she is! my first update in like a year lol. lmk what you thought! tell me what you would like to see in the story, who knows, i might be able to incorporate it in! Thank you all for your lovely comments. I loveee reading them.

comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

I obviously do not own jjk or anything related to it. I can't find the artist, but if you know them pls dm for credits!!! please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

taglist: @missphanosaur18 , @bontensbabygirl, @megumissunshine, @chocoyanchan, @littlelovebug98, @lucisimpongod, @xochyw, @jaegerstan222 , @electro-supremacy, @mellytheteddy, @clover0310 , @soraya-daydreams, @priussy, @insanehumantinker, @staygoldsquatchling02, @nonksity, @hinata7346, @chososwhoresblog, @ynjimenez , @soraya-daydreams , @nonksity , @hinata7346 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @sad-darksoul , @sasuke-slut , @yuunie135 , @bratkuna , @aydene , @mshope16 , @pretentiousteentrash , @galactict3a , @kokos-property , @moonriseoverkyoto , @lyn-soso , @arilostie , @violetmatcha , @markleeisdabestdrug , @erensdior , @hp-simp505 , @fushiguro-kyuuuuuu , @bontensbabygirl , @switch-godess , @honey-yuh , @ddotsie

wanna join the taglist? | my kinda love; chapter index

#notiddygxthgf ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚#my kinda love ʕ•㉨•ʔ #nanami x you #nanami x reader #nanami smut #nanami fluff #nanami angst #kento nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n

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soupiestzilla · 8 days ago

Text

Link to my second account where i write about my modern shellvision au hehe

anywho

Ill complete the rest of the designs later on, for now i just wanna get this au out for that poll

@shellevisionfan yo

@cupcakewebkinz double yo

Go Garden of Gods Au go . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Basically, Its an au where the mains are gods and goddesses, and every other toon, must choose to live under one of them, based on their ideals

And based on what Main they choose, they get specific blessings and curses, and a symbol somewhere on their bodies , representing their god 🥳

And another thing before we get into the actual mains.

Pebble.

Pebble isnt a god. Pebble is how toons find their ways to the gods.

This guy. Isnt he cute

At a certain point in a toons life, (usually at a certain age) , pebble shows up, and leads you off on your merry ol way to the main you wanna choose

Goodest boy

Now- the mains. I'll include their designs and symbols in later, trust (also, Every god has a representative—The first ever toons to choose them, now yeehaw)

THE GODS (AND WHAT THEY DO TO YOU)

1. VEE – Goddess of Logic and precision

Angy gal. Flashy gal also. Lightning motifs cus cmon. Machine. Electricity.

Toons who love structure, and logic (or are scared of change or lack of routine) choose vee

Blessing: Super clarity, you got quick thinking now, faster, sharper, untouchable in moments of logic or debate.

Curse: emotional detachment - you're logic guy now, not feelings guy

Rep: Brightney (best contestant cmon)

2. SHELLY – Goddess of Remnants and rememberance

Ocean therapist whos seen too much. Ocean bcs water motif bcs ammonite. Also water bcs sad. Sad gal

Two cases of toons who chose shelly. Either the artistic type that want to preserve the past poetically or something. Or toons who lost something or someone dear to them, who are grieving, choose good ol shelly

Blessing: Deep understanding of the past, you speak with wisdom beyond your years, you remember everything mhm

Curse: You’ll feel loss like a wave crash. Youll cry to the bee movie probably

Rep: Tisha (emotionally stable maid for sad shell)

3. SPROUT – God of Empathy and emotion

Official au happy guy. Floral motifs ofc

Warm, deeply loving, kind hearted and just toons fulla whimsy choose this guy

Blessing: Empathy, emotional intuition, the ability to grow silly little flowers at will because sprout likes em , and heal emotional wounds (u got emotional intelligence lesgo)

Curse: Emotions are loud. And you feel them all. At once. Constantly. Whoops

Rep: Cosmo (emotional baker boy, good for our boy sprout)

4. DANDY – God of life and death

Flower guy. Dramatic flower guy.

Theatre kids. This guy is dramatic i say once again. Thats it. Thats who choose him, other than ppl haunted by the concept of death. Yeah

Blessing: You walk through endings and beginnings without fear. You see ghosts. You understand the truth of life cycles

Curse: You get NO rest. Death loves you. Life loves you too

Rep: Dandy himself ( yeah )( showoff )

5. ASTRO – God of Time and dreams

Official au scary guy. Hasn't blinked ever since he gained consciousness probably. Has seen every timeline and dislikes them all

Only toons who have nothing left to lose, and knowledge left to chase, choose astro (rodger loves this guy)

Blessing: Precognition, you can see possible futures in your dreams, and now have impeccable time sense

Curse: Endless déjà vu. And well. If it the future aint nice then you get to live knowing that too

Rep: No one. Astro Hates his job

TL;DR- U choose god. You get to be touched by divine nonsense

WHAT’S THE DEAL WITH SHELLY & VEE?

Im SO GLAD YOU ASKED! (no one asked)(This is soupiestzillas blog tho)(Man up its always shellvision at the end of the day)

They’re two goddesses. They’re in love. They are TRYING to confess it

BUT. MORTALS. KEEP. INTERRUPTING.

Because i think its funny

See you can summon your gods at will by doing some hocus pocus ofcourse

Vee gets summoned mid-confession and zaps away. Shelly sobs as she's yanked into another country. It happens every single time

We (zilla) are ALL rooting for these two to just say “I love you” without getting interrupted by Finn because he lost Barnaby

Thats the shellvision Verdict today fellas

OK COOL BUT WHO’S THIS FOR?

All of the toons picked gods. Or didn’t. Or regretted it (and i will probably make another post of which ones they chose, it'll be good. Shirmpo chooses astro lol)

And now? They deal with divine nonsense 24/7

TL;DR:

Mains are now gods

You get one

You get a power

You get a curse

There’s a rock dog

Two goddesses can’t confess because finn keeps praying

You’ll love it here

🌙🌹⚡🌊🌿

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the-s1lly-corner · 11 months ago

Note

Saw that you were doing cotl stuff so can we have a lamb x reader sorta thing were reader was one of the first followers the cult had making lamb have a soft spot for them 👀 it can be how a follower was starting a fight with the reader and lambert immediately stopping it despite just coming back frim a crusade and sent the follower to the stocks? No pressure at all i just thought it'd be a fun scenario :3

Lamb with a soft spot for follower!reader

writing this and posting it immeadiately to kind of show off im writing for COTL as well now- any COTL requests sent after like- idk 24-48 hours will be put in the queue like any other request notes: reader is lambs first follower, admin is still trying to figure out how he wants to write lambs personality, approaching this with how he personally perceives the lamb CWs: none

its so obvious to everyone else in the cult that he has a soft spot for you, regardless of if he tries to hide it or not

always without fail agrees to any request you have for him; going out to get something from darkwood to even sacrificing someone

you can get away with most anything, as well, whether it be because he lets it slide or because most of your fellow cult members are too intimidated to snitch on you

instantly breaks up any fights you get in with followers, sends them to prison until he feels theyve been through enough

youre probably his first disciple, or at least one of the first and boy are you dedicated

its not just lamb tending to you and spoiling you, you return the same energy and not just because hes your leader

brings you things he finds while on crusades he thinks youll like- gifts, food, and so on!

you have matching robes, making you stick out from the rest of the followers

imagine having a tent next to his, assuming you dont just outright share with him- always checks in with you before heading to bed if hes not out on a crusade

i dont think he would ban you from going out and risk getting hurt, if you can fight for yourself then he trusts you to go out and come back

leaves you in charge when hes out for longer than usual so the cult doesnt fall into shambles in his absence

#cotl x reader #cotl x you #cotl imagine #cult of the lamb imagine #cult of the lamb x you #cult of the lamb x reader #cotl lamb x reader #cotl lamb x you #cotl lamb imagine #canon x reader #canon x you #x reader

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sukunasweetheart · 2 years ago

Note

OK, poe, hear me out. What do you think the jjk males would react with a wife reader when their 4yr kid asks them how kids are made? I can just imagine with some of them, reader is absolutely shooting a death glare at their hubby, and just trying to give to basically avoid to telling the kid.(Since the kid is like 4)

hi babes! i dont write for the other jjk men unfortunately but i am more than happy to talk abt sukuna with this (as per usual)

with sukuna i feel like he would watch you trying to make up some really basic child-friendly story about how kids are born into this world and sukuna would listen into your cheesy ass explanation and SNORT LMFAOOO making it seem like the process of conceiving a child (sex) is all magic and rainbows <3 when in reality you know he was balls deep inside you for nights on end until your poor womb was so full with his seed,,, there was no way that you were NOT getting pregnant after that,,,

but ofc, u cant tell ur infant child this so um, that made up fairytale of yours will have to do for now. sukuna will continue to cackle at you, and so you'd probably narrow your eyes and glare at your husband being like "be quiet. unless you have a better story in mind?"

"what? you want me to talk about how i literally turned you into a cream filled-"

you clasp your hand over his mouth so fast. luckily your child had already tuned out due to their low attention span and did not hear that last part 💀 only sukunas muffled laughing can be heard.

"are you mad??" and he only starts laughing harder.

"ahh, this whole thing reminded me of the good old times though. i miss trying to put a baby in you. how about we reminisce tonight? i could give you a second one..." he'd whisper to you afterwards.

you say no, but he is aware that your nos are never really a no... youll cave in anyway. it hits different when he's ACTUALLY trying to impregnate you.

#poe answers #mmmm breeding kink my love #dilf sukuna is yum #sukuna x reader #sukuna #jjk x reader #sukuna smut

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justarkive · 3 months ago

Text

TABLE 3 | JJK ch11

“For good service, and cute waitresses.”

pairing: pre!military jk x waitress/secret fuckbuddy!oc

warnings: profanity, angst, humour, fluff, celebrity au, idol!jungkook , mentions of other kpop groups/idols, inner conflict, insecurity. jungkooks enlistment, its EATING him up. oc is so oblivious. nari as usual, jungkook overworking himself, boring chapter ngl.

wc: short

this fic is not meant to represent the real jungkook or any other characters mentioned!

taglist: @jenniebyrubies @dreamersparacosm @darklove2020 @rayyrayy10 @elinaki92 @alana4610

a/n: u guys dont understand how much i was stressing abt this chapter like, i had no idea what to write for them… like another date? should they fuck again? but i figured this was good so we can get closer to his enlistment without dragging it out too long. so sorry freaks theres no smut today!! and its pretty boring so apologies :( as always thank u for reading my loves. also, a recent comment i had to bring to attention was how it looks like theres a lack of attraction on jungkooks side (in reality there isnt, that man is WHIPPED) : pls note this is completely intentional and youll find out why in this chapter!!

masterlist | < prev | next >

You realize you can’t spend every day with Jeon Jungkook.

The thought is jarring, unsettling in a way that makes your stomach twist as you count the tip money at the register. It’s not that you thought you could, realistically speaking. You have a life—one that doesn’t revolve around whispered “good mornings” and teasing kisses over breakfast, or the way his fingers always seem to find yours in the quiet moments.

But the past two days have been… intoxicating. Like stepping into some kind of alternate reality, one where time bends in your favor, where you can exist in a warm, golden haze of laughter and lingering glances and the subtle press of his body against yours when he thinks you’re not paying attention.

And now, you’re here. Back to fluorescent lights humming above you, the faint scent of coffee and grease mixing in the air, and—

“Oh hell no, bitch, I’m gonna kill someone. Who the fuck—”

Nari’s voice cuts through your thoughts, sharp and irritated, as she holds up a napkin between her fingers like it personally offended her.

You glance over, noting the scrawled handwriting in what looks like smudged eyeliner, and sigh. “Another one?”

“The fifth one today,” she deadpans, before squinting at the message. “‘I like my girls like my coffee, hot and steamy. Call me?’” She blinks. “Oh, gross.”

You can’t help but snort, shaking your head as you swipe the napkin from her hands and toss it straight into the trash. “At least they’re tipping.”

“At what cost?” Nari groans, slumping dramatically against the counter.

And just like that, reality anchors you again. The warmth of Jungkook’s presence, the way he had become so seamlessly woven into your daily routine, feels like something distant. Because this is your life—bantering with Nari over questionable customers, counting tip money, working double shifts until your feet ache. And you realise how much you miss it.

You can’t spend every day with Jeon Jungkook, but speaking of. He hasn’t stopped texting you details about his concert.

At first, you said yes without hesitation. The words slip out so easily, like second nature. “Yeah, of course, I’ll come.” How could you not? It’s Jungkook. It’s his concert. It’s something important to him, and the way he had looked at you—eyes wide, hopeful, waiting—had made it impossible to say anything else, but there was also something strange about how he’d asked you, how he blurted it out so suddenly.

But now, in the unforgiving clarity of daylight, when your phone pings with a message from him about the details, the hesitation creeps in.

You hadn’t even thought about the price.

It’s stupid, really. You don’t need to go, and yet, now that you’ve said yes, the idea of backing out makes your chest tighten uncomfortably. The tickets alone are expensive. Very expensive. The kind of expensive that makes your stomach churn, that has you mentally calculating how many shifts you’d need to cover the cost. And that’s not even considering the logistics—the sheer chaos of being in a packed stadium, the fact that you’d be one person in a crowd of thousands, that you’d have to navigate the whole thing alone.

Well, not alone. You made sure to demand one condition: Nari has to come with you.

Jungkook had said yes without hesitation. But even with that reassurance, you find yourself hesitating with every new text he sends. You keep your responses brief, not enough to raise suspicion but just enough to stall.

It doesn’t work.

Jungkook [11:24 AM]: u okay? you seem off.

You [11:25 AM]: just tired

Jungkook [11:25 AM]: You sure?

You [11:26 AM]: promise

The dots appear, vanish, reappear.

You stare at your screen, willing him to let it go.

He doesn’t.

Jungkook [11:28 AM]: You don’t have to come if you don’t want to, you know.

Your heart lurches a little. That’s not it. You do want to go. But what do you say? Hey, I know I agreed to this, but I can’t really justify spending that much money on a ticket, and also, I don’t really know how to do things like this, and it’s kind of overwhelming to think about?

Before you can even figure out how to respond, another text comes in.

Jungkook [11:29 AM]: If it’s about the ticket, don’t even think about it. I got you.

You blink.

You [11:30 AM]: What?

Jungkook [11:31 AM]: Backstage pass. Special entry. No crowd, no stress. Just you and Nari.

Your mouth goes dry.

He clocked you immediately. Of course, he did. You should’ve known. Jungkook is a lot of things, but oblivious isn’t one of them. He caught on to your hesitance faster than you could even process it yourself, and before you could spiral too deep, he’d already fixed the problem.

Just you and Nari.

The tension in your shoulders eases—just a little. Because the money was one thing, but the thought of pushing through a crowd of thousands had been gnawing at you more than you wanted to admit. But this? This is something you can do.

You [11:33 AM]: You didn’t have to do that.

Jungkook [11:33 AM]: Yeah, I did.

You bite back a smile.

You [11:34 AM]: …Okay. Thank you.

Jungkook [11:34 AM]: Don’t mention it.

A pause. Then:

Jungkook [11:35 AM]: Actually, do mention it. Like a lot. Maybe call me the best person ever or something.

You roll your eyes, typing out a quick absolutely not before locking your phone and exhaling.

Crisis averted.

For now.

——

The bus ride home is slow, the kind of slow that makes you regret not just walking. The city hums around you, neon lights flickering past the windows, the occasional car horn breaking through the low murmur of conversations. You’re exhausted, the long shift weighing down your limbs, and the warmth of the bus isn’t helping.

You lean your head back against the window, sighing. And then, as if on cue, your phone buzzes.

Jungkook: did you eat yet?

You stare at the message for a second, lips pressing together.

You haven’t. But that’s not the point.

You ignore the way your stomach flutters—you’re not dating, you’re not dating, you’re not dating—and type out a quick, Yeah, just got home. It’s a lie, but a small one.

The bus slows at a stoplight. You tap your fingers against your thigh, suddenly remembering something. Something you’d forgotten during work today.

The concert. Oh. Oh, shit.

You blink, processing. The concert is in five days.

You were supposed to be thinking about that. Planning for it. Maybe even, you know, acknowledging it. But somehow, between work and everything else, it completely slipped your mind.

You don’t know why you suddenly feel nervous. It’s just a concert. And it’s not like Jungkook didn’t make sure you’d be safe—backstage passes, seats away from the crowd. He handled everything.

But still.

You bite your lip, debating, and then press call.

Nari picks up on the third ring. “Why are you calling me? Shouldn’t you be busy thinking about a certain superstar?”

You roll your eyes. “I have a question.”

“Go on.”

You hesitate. “…Are you free in five days?”

There’s a pause. Then, suspiciously, “Why?”

You shift in your seat, staring out the window. “Because I may or may not have forgotten that Jungkook’s concert is in five days, and I want you to come with me.”

Silence.

Then—

“BITCH.”

You wince, holding the phone away from your ear as Nari screeches. The few people around you on the bus glance over, and you lower your head, trying to pretend you’re not part of this conversation.

“FIVE DAYS?” she yells. “YOU’RE TELLING ME THIS NOW? DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG I NEED TO PICK AN OUTFIT? AT LEAST TEN DAYS. MINIMUM.”

You blink. “That’s…longer than you actually have.”

“EXACTLY.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “So, is that a yes?”

Nari exhales like she’s carrying the weight of the world. “Obviously, yes. But I’m mad about it.”

“You’ll live.”

“No, I won’t.”

You stifle a laugh. “We also have backstage passes, by the way.”

Silence.

“…Come again?”

“Backstage passes. Jungkook got them for us.”

There’s another pause. Then, a deadly serious, “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do. Because what I’m hearing is that you have exclusive access to one of the biggest concerts of the year, and you FORGOT?”

“…Yeah?”

“I need you to know that I’m never letting you live this down.”

“That’s fair.”

The bus slows, your stop approaching. You shift forward in your seat, grabbing your bag. “We have to book the day off.”

“You’re lucky I love you,” Nari mutters. “And you’re especially lucky that I will never pass up the opportunity to stand within ten feet of Kim Namjoon.”

You snort. “It’s a solo concert Nari.“

“Let a girl dream.”

You hang up with a smile, stepping off the bus and into the cool night air.

It’s only after you get home, slipping off your shoes and setting your phone down, that you notice another text from Jungkook.

Jungkook: Liar. You’re still on the bus.

You freeze.

And then—

Jungkook: Caught you through the reflection, didn’t I?

You groan, flopping onto the couch.

You really, really need to stop underestimating him.

——

The floor against Jungkook’s back is cold. Too cold. It seeps through his damp shirt, cutting through the heat of his skin like ice, but he barely registers it. His chest rises and falls in quick, shallow breaths, sweat slicking his temples, his neck, his arms.

“Again,” he mutters, more to himself than anyone else, but the choreographer hesitates.

“Jungkook, you’re overdoing it.”

He hears it, but he doesn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he pushes himself up, rolling his shoulders back. The mirrors in the practice room reflect him mercilessly—messy hair, the sharp set of his jaw, the frustration tightening his muscles like a coiled spring.

Frustration at himself. At you. At the fact that when he told you about the concert, he was supposed to say something else entirely. I’m leaving for the military soon. That was what was meant to come out. Instead, it had been Come to my concert.

And you’d said yes. Just like that. No hesitation. But then came the shift—those tiny pauses in your texts, the slight hesitance in your words when he brought it up again. You weren’t saying why, but Jungkook knew.

The price.

He’d seen it immediately. The way you didn’t want to say it outright, the way you tried to brush it off. He hated that. Hated that you even thought you had to hesitate over something like this. Because if it was up to him, you wouldn’t have to worry about a damn thing.

That’s why he’d handled it. Special backstage tickets, no issues with the crowd, no stress—just you, there, like he wanted. Like he needed.

So why does it still feel like he’s done something wrong?

“Jungkook,” his manager’s voice cuts through the silence. “That’s enough for today.”

Jungkook exhales through his nose, pressing his tongue into his cheek. “One more run.”

“You’re already ahead of schedule. And you’re distracted.”

He bristles. “I’m not.”

“You are.” His manager crosses his arms, looking at him through the mirror. “And I don’t need you injuring yourself because your head’s somewhere else.”

Jungkook stays silent, flexing his fingers at his sides.

His manager sighs, voice lowering. “Look. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I do know you’ve been pushing yourself too hard. I also know that whatever’s eating at you isn’t just about the tour.”

Jungkook’s jaw tightens.

“I get it,” his manager continues. “You’re stressed. But you’re making it worse for yourself. Just… chill. Whatever this is, let it go for tonight.”

Let it go?

Jungkook almost laughs.

If it were that easy, he wouldn’t be here right now, forcing himself through routine after routine, trying to physically burn you out of his system. Trying to drown out the sound of your voice in his head. Trying to silence the part of himself that knows—knows—he’s in too deep.

Because at first? This wasn’t supposed to be like this.

He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated with himself for even letting things get this far. What did he expect? That it would be easy to switch off the emotions, to walk away without feeling something? He wants to push away the growing awareness that maybe, just maybe, you’re more than just another distraction.

But now he’s stuck. There’s a reason he hasn’t told you everything. It’s easier to keep you in this safe, manageable space—where things are light and easy, where you don’t need to know about the chaos that’s coming. About how soon he’ll be gone. About the reality that his time is limited, and yet, for some reason, it feels like you’re already becoming more important than he can afford to let you be.

He was wrong. And that realization stings more than he expected.

And now? He’s stuck somewhere between wanting to pull you closer and fearing he’s already too much. That he’s already crossing lines.

“One more,” he says again, voice firm.

His manager exhales sharply through his nose, but he doesn’t argue this time. “Fine. One more. Then you’re done.”

Jungkook doesn’t waste another second.

He throws himself into it, movements sharp, precise, but there’s a new edge to them now. Something more aggressive, more punishing. His muscles scream at him, but he keeps going, pushing harder, faster. He doesn’t just perform—he fights. Every stomp of his foot, every swing of his arm feels like he’s battling something invisible.

Himself.

His own damn emotions.

He dances like he’s trying to outrun them. Like if he moves fast enough, hard enough, maybe he can lose them in the chaos. Maybe he can forget, just for a moment, that you’ve completely consumed him.

But by the time the music stops, by the time he’s standing there, breathless and burning, he knows—

It’s useless.

“I get it,” his manager continues. “You’re stressed. But you’re making it worse for yourself. Go home. Rest.”

Jungkook doesn’t respond right away, but the weight of the words settles in his chest. He swipes his water bottle from the floor, chugging a few mouthfuls before slinging his bag over his shoulder. His body aches, every muscle screaming in protest, but none of it is enough to quiet his mind.

He checks his phone the second he steps outside.

No new messages.

The urge to text you is immediate—something teasing, something easy, just to make sure you’re still there, still thinking about him, too. But he hesitates. You’d already been weird today, your replies shorter, slower, like you were pulling away.

Like you were trying not to need him.

The thought unsettles him more than it should.

Jungkook runs a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. The thing is, he doesn’t know what to do with this. With you. You’re different. A breath of fresh air in a world that’s constantly moving too fast. He likes you. Too much, probably. And that should be a good thing, should be easy—but it’s not.

Because he doesn’t know how to ask for more.

He’s spent his entire career learning how to hold back. How to be careful, how to measure every interaction, every word. But with you, he doesn’t want to be careful. He wants to be selfish. Wants to see you whenever he wants, touch you whenever he wants, kiss you just because he feels like it.

And that’s dangerous.

His fingers hover over your contact for a second before he shoves his phone back into his pocket, shaking his head at himself.

He just has to be patient. That’s all.

If he’s lucky, you’ll realize soon enough.

That you’re already his.

Until he has to go.

By the time he steps outside, the air is thick with the remnants of rain, the streets slick with reflections of neon lights. His phone vibrates in his pocket.

You: Get home safe

Simple. Casual. But Jungkook stares at it for longer than he should, fingers hovering over the keyboard before he finally types out a response.

Jungkook: you too.

He hesitates.

Then, before he can overthink it, he adds—

Jungkook: And don’t lie to me next time.

You: shut up 🙄

Jungkook doesn’t respond. Instead, he exhales slowly, tilting his head back, staring at the ceiling as if it’ll hold all the answers he doesn’t have. The military is looming over him like a shadow, growing closer, heavier. And now there’s you—this thing between you, whatever it is—pressing against his ribs like a weight he can’t shake.

But for now, he just ignores it.

Because in 5 days, it’ll finally be 3 weeks exactly till he’s gone.

The unease follows him, clinging to his skin like sweat.

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mayuichi · 11 months ago

Text

Spending your birthday with them.

Include:

Genshin Impact [ Alhaitham, Wriothesley, Heizou ]

Honkai: Star Rail [ Aventurine & Veritas Ratio ]

Persona 5 [ Akechi Goro ]

Moriarty the Patriot [ William James Moriarty & Fred Porlock ]

Content Warning: fem!reader, I'm sorry for men that may read this! If you easily switch pronouns in your mind then go ahead, but there's mention of the reader wearing a dress at some point! (kind of irrevelant though, so I think you can imagine something else then?), pet names and.. that's all i think-. it's just a fluff so...

may's note: im so sorry i took so long to come back!! ive got a lot on my plate recently, i had planned another oneshot to come out but but BUUT!! My best friend's birthday is right around the corner when I write this (aha just a day before.. hi..) so im writing this for her, with her favourites and some that i know she loves <3 HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!! I HOPE YOULL HAVE AN AMAZING DAY AND THAT YOU GOT THAT PLUSH YOU WANTED TO GO WITH AVENTURINE!! ive kinda rushed this to come out ngl, because its been a month im like "i have the time" until i didnt have time anymore.. sorry if it sucks :(

This artwork has been made by susucre! Do not steal/use it! every other used for the headers are official arts!

Even if he doesn't want to, he has duties now. Or at least, unexpected duties. But you can be sure Alhaitham always makes some time for you. How can he not? You're his sweetheart. Well, he isn't one to give sweet names but he still thinks so.

However, how could've you expect him to forget about your birthday? It's once a year, and he doesn't really care much about them usually. But we're talking about you. Of course he can't forget about it. He wants you happy, and he knows you'd hate if he doesn't at least wish you a happy birthday.

But what was your surprise when you find him still in bed, beside you, his right arm drapped over you as he reads from the other. Isn't he supposed to be at work, at the Akademiya? You don't even have the time to inquire, he saw your eyes fluttering open.

“Good morning.„ he briefly looks over you, before focusing back onto his book. But he strokes your side with his hand gently. He isn't much of a talker, but his small gestures are everything, aren't they?

He rapidly finishes his page, and places the book down to turn to you. “I'll let you take a shower and I'll prepare you breakfast.„ you can't even reply that he's already out of bed and heading to the kitchen. You'll just have to go shower.

It's your special day. Of course you'll wear a pretty dress, you want to feel extra pretty for today. When done, you head to the living room, finding him waiting for you to eat. It isn't a feast, but more than enough for the both of you. The silence is comfortable, only your breathing.

“Where are you going?„ he inquires when he sees you about to open the front door. You thought you'd go on a walk. “I haven't overworked myself for a week so I could have a full day off for you to ditch me, you know?„

It wasn't much, maybe even a bit offensive for some. But the idea that he paid attention enough to be certain to have a complete day off for you is enough to make you smile. And so, you chuckle and walk towards him.

“The weather is nice. It's sunny. We should go out together, don't you think?„ you tilt your head, waiting for his approval.. or for a compromise.

“It is. It's the perfect weather to do nothing at all. Or to read next to a window.„ without further notice, he stands and pulls you with him to the nearby window. Making you sit in his lap, he pulls out a book and rests his chin on top of your head.

“Maybe it isn't the best birthday you'll ever have, but I hope my company is enough.„ he isn't necessarily insecure, far from it even. But it's your special day. He just wants to make you happy, doesn't he?

And even if he says so, just reading in his lap with him, is enough. Spending time with him makes it nicer. Leaning further into his chest, you sigh and start to read with him. He's careful to wait for you, to ensure you finished before he actually turns the page.

He'll take breaks from time to time to make you both a drink, or to let you talk a bit. It isn't partying, but being able to spend the day together, reading and talking, without him possibly thinking about his duties is a luxury he doesn't always allow himself.

And he's more than glad for it to be with you.

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐒˚ ◌༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ⋆·˚ ༘ *︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚༊*·˚

Until now, Wriothesley was used to stay in the Fortress most of his time. It never bothered him. Sigewinne keeps him company, and his prisoners aren't too bad most of the time. Even Neuvillette or Clorinde comes visit him from time to time.

But it changed when he met you. He didn't want you to be that often in the Fortress, and yet he couldn't help but want you. You don't know it, but he even asked Neuvillette for your birthday. It has never been that much of a talk in between you. You were both kind of over it after all. You aren't toddlers for who it is extremely important to get one year older.

But he wants your first birthday with him to be special, to be something you'd remember. He wants to make this day amazing. And for that, he had to have permissions and ensure the paperwork was done before that day. He had to be prepared for any possibility, to be called in for an emergency if someone tried to escape, or if they get overwhelmed and for your day to be ruined.

But he was willing to take that risk.

On your occasional weekly visit, you both talk and drink tea together, as any other time. You're not sure when, yet now, he has you in his arms, holding you close. It is as if he believed you were leaving. He's quick to compose himself and just steals a kiss from you, to hide his worries behind that smirk he always has when he surprises you.

“By the way, I've heard your birthday is soon, isn't it?„ you raise an eyebrow. You haven't told him, yet he knows. “Would you like us to spend the day together?„

You were so sure he meant inside the Fortress of Meropide, that when he mentioned that it wouldn't be there, but in the city, your eyes widened. Of course, you firstly worried about his work. It isn't like he's just a guard who could take a day off or a sick day. He has a prison to keep in place.

But he assured you it'd be alright. And so you trust him. There's no reason for you not to.

Your birthday was soon to come, and you waited for him in front of the Fortress' entrance. Dressed in a pretty outfit, that you kept on for this occasion, you obviously felt amazing. And upon seeing you, Wriothesley grinned. “Someone made herself extra beautiful for today.„

His tone flirty, he wraps his left arm around your waist and pulls you close, pressing his lips on your hair. “It suits you perfectly. But you're always beautiful.„ his words meant the world to you.

And so began the day. Wriothesley is careful, meticulous even. He makes sure you stay hydrated, well fed and have fun. If you want a pastry, he'll buy it without a second thought. This piece of jewerly looks pretty on you? He'll offer it to you, no matter the cost.

It's weird for everyone to see the Duke out of the Fortress. He's respected for sure, and well known. You hold hands all day long, sometimes stealing kisses when you're in a alley or when no one's looking.

When the sun fades away to let the moon takes place, stars show up too. Now sitting near the water, you both look up at the navy blue sky. Wriothesley lets out a sigh and clears his throat. “I hope you had fun. I'm not sure when I'd be capable to have such a long time outside the Fortress without it being work related.„

Sure or not, you're just happy he manages to have time for you. And he's relieved everything went smoothly. He leans closer to you, his lips grazing your cheek. “Happy birthday.„

And even if it has caused him some stress, he's ready to do it over again next year if it makes him see your eyes so sparkly and shiny with delightment and happiness.

He'd risk anything to see you smile and hear your laughers echoing in his ears.

-ˏ͛⑅　‧̥̥͙‧̥̥ ̥ ̮ ̥ ⊹｡ₓ ू ₒ ु ˚ ‧̫‧ ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.⊹ ̥ ̮ ̥ ‧̥̥‧̥̥͙　⑅ˏ͛-

The good part of being a detective is that he knows how to not leave any clue about his true intentions. And so, he can surprise you whenever he wants and you won't even realise he has planned it for a while!

Since Heizou can hardly take a day off recently, you agreed it'd be better if you spend the day with your friends and just leave your evening for him.

It was an amazing day, your friends and you strolled around the city, went to some fancy places and just spoiled you entirely. But it felt off, knowing that Heizou wasn't with you like you wished he could've.

They dropped you by your house, and with a sigh, you stepped inside. Of course Heizou wasn't home yet. It wasn't surprising, he's quite overwhelmed with work lately. Yet there was a small disappointment in your chest. Your heart was a bit heavier. But you brush it off.

By the time he gets home, you had just finished preparing dinner. He steps closer with that shitty grin and clears his throat. “Such a sweetie, making dinner when I hoped I'd have time to treat you today.„ of course, he doesn't want you to do any effort for today, but his schedule decided otherwise.

And so, with a swift movement, he shoves a bouquet against your chest. “I know it isn't much compared to how it could've been nicer to spend the day together, but I hope it'll make it up for it a bit.„

Heizou has always been a romantic at heart, he loves it when he sees your cheeks flushing and feels your breath growing faster from his teasing. And he's delighted to see that sweet blush spreading slowly.

Leaning in close, he takes your hands in his, and presses a chaste kiss on your lips. “Let's eat dinner and enjoy the time we have tonight, alright? I need to make it up for you.„

He lets you take care of the bouquet first, ensuring it won't die just yet. He teases you about your day, plays with you some games and even let you win for once. And needless to say the night ends in something.. more than just flirt and teasing.

But he hopes next year won't be as busy, so he can treat you like the princess you are in his eyes.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *. *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ☽ ✧˖*°࿐ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A gambler. That's what he'll always be no matter what, no matter the day. He needs to work every single day, to be a good asset for the IPC. He can't afford losing. He will never accept it.

But today, Aventurine thought it'd be nice to let you experience gambling too. Well, not as much as he usually does, but more in a regular casino. He's obviously well known here, and has some free drinks. But he wants you to enjoy it too.

He teaches you how to do, the ropes of each games. To guess when to stop, and more importantly of course, to understand the rules and that losing can cost a lot. But deep down, Aventurine doesn't give a fuck about how much money you'll lose. He has way more than someone can think of.

Each games were fun, but you hated seeing those girls eyeing him like you don't exist. Don't they see you, the gorgeous girl sitting next to him, with who he holds hands? Or perhaps they don't care. But it frustrates you.

Even more so when one comes closer and accidentally spills wine on Aventurine's jacket. He doesn't react at first. But he grows more and more impatient as she tries to clean her mess.

But he got fed up when she literally sat in between the both of you. Who does she think she is? “Excuse me, Miss,„ with a dry chuckle and bright smile, he stands up and walks behind her, “don't you see her?„

Swiftly, almost as if he has always been ready for it, he pulls you close, your head resting on his chest. Your face flushes bright red of course, but you don't say anything. “She already holds the string. And compared to you, she doesn't care about my money. So if you please, do not dare to bother us further on her special day.„

He leads you away, and yet, casts them a last glance, “Except if you want to face the consequences, that is. But I doubt you would like it.„

He'd never let anyone makes you feel inferior, nor worthless, and even less when it's supposed to be your day. The day he caters to your every need without any complaint or question.

Upon arriving to a new game, away from those nuisance, he holds your hand in his, pressing his forehead against yours. “I'm sorry, darling. But I promise you, you're the only one in my eyes. The prettiest, the cutest, and the most loveable woman I've ever set my eyes on.„

He'd cherish you. He knows the pain, and he wants to keep you away from it. He struggles at time, but every effort is worth of your smile. Every day is a delight to get home to you, to know you're his, and that he's yours.

That he has a home. A home with you.

☆.｡.:*　❥　-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-　☽　.｡.:*☆

What were you thinking when you first confessed to him? Of course you thought he'd reject you. We're talking about Veritas Ratio. But to your surprise, he accepted! But maybe you should've been careful... He's a teacher.

It isn't uncommon for Veritas Ratio to call you stupid or dumb, because you don't understand something or that you made a mistake on something simple. But you also know he'll always be here for you.

Compared to one of his colleage, he isn't particularly rich. Don't get me wrong, he is completely financially stable, and he won't be anytime soon the type to get ruined. But basically, if you need special teaching in something he doesn't master, he won't hesitate to help you with it.

He can't help but put intellect into a bit everything he does. But he knows it can piss you off at times, especially when it's not the moment for it.

Today, he has a long day. Longer than intended. So you nicely bring him lunch. Yet he requests of you to stay until his break is over. You know he isn't one to care about birthdays, but he does remember them if he is supposed to know them. Yours is no exception.

“I'm going to be home later than usual tonight, but perhaps you have any wish for how we spend our time?„ it isn't often that he lets you so openly choose. But you don't wait more time to ask if you could watch a movie and snuggle. You need nothing more than some rest, and so does he.

Laughers fill the empty classroom, except for the both of you. He knows when to not overdo it, especially with you. He will never admit it entirely, but he doesn't want to risk losing you. He can't. Not when you bring him so much by just existing.

There's a reason why he doesn't want you to be to close to that blonde, don't you think? But it doesn't matter.

In the evening, after you shared dinner, you set on the couch with him, snuggling up. His left hand caressing your side while his right one is holding a pen. Of course he can't only watch a movie, he needs to keep on going with his paperwork. But he doesn't entirely focus on it.

However, from time to time, you'd hear from Veritas that he clicks his tongue. He seems rather.. unpleased. And when you take a look, you don't see anything wrong. “Of course you don't, you're too much of an idiot to realise that student's mistake. What a pity.„

Unfortunately for you, you dared to ask what was the mistake.. and now you're in for a lecture. He sits you up and explains to you, in a rather annoyed tone. It isn't a surprise to say that you both don't even noticed when the movie has finished.

You're about to stand up when he holds you back, pulling you in his lap. “Don't you dare run away from my lecture. You asked to know, so you'll know.„ It promises to be an interesting evening and night, especially if you try to push your luck.

Veritas will make sure you get the appropriate punishment if his patience runs out by the time he's done with you.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ੈ✩‧₊˚ೃ⁀➷˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚.ೃ࿐

Have you ever imagined he'd steal your heart? A detective by day, a Phantom Thief by night. He earned his title well, he's definitely a prince in your eyes.

“Are you still listening?„ Akechi inquires. You have to admit, you weren't. You were too charmed into his eyes, shining as he shares his day with you.

“I've been thinking, there's an amusement park not far from here. Would you like to go with me?„ he asks. He isn't really scared of asking you on a date anymore. Of course, he couldn't help but feel like he isn't enough at times. But you love him, right? He can't let his insecurities win over.

And so, you are now on a date with him, on your birthday. He cares for a bit everything. He makes sure the sun isn't hitting you too hard, that you drink enough, and especially have fun.

You're the only one lucky enough to see him almost constantly out of his detective prince persona. To know the real him. He has his issues, and sometimes he may snaps at you. But he apologises and proves that he changes. He already does, but he tries to make sure you know he's willing to become better for you.

You're his light, and he can't lose you. At first, he even thought you loved that coffee shop's employee, but he felt lucky when you reciprocated his feelings.

Since then, Akechi would take you out often. To the beach, at restaurant, or even just for a walk. He wants you to know he cares, and he wants you only. He needs to be careful though, but he makes it work out.

Getting into a bit every attractions, he even ends up winning you a teddy bear. No one is ever too old for one after all, right? As he hands it to you, he presses a kiss on your lips, soft and tender, as if he wants the time to stop.

The sun sets slowly, and you get into the Ferris Wheel to end up the day. It's cozy, just the two of you. He holds you close, his nose in your hair as he breathes in your scent. “Happy birthday, my love.„

Why would he need to say anything more? Your heart races, and you look up at him with a sheepish smile. No one can mistake that expression on both of your faces. You're so undeniably in love with each other.

“I know I fucked up, especially when you discovered what I've done. But I'll become better. For you, and for us. So please, stay with me.„ he couldn't help but squeezing you tighter against him, as if you won't allow him time.

“I love you. So fucking much.„ he whispers as the sun disappears from view, letting the moon rise slowly. He'll always do his best for you, to be worthy of you.

Because he loves you. And he'll make every birthday from now on special for you.

·:¨༺ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　✮　☄. *. ⋆ ༻¨:·

It took him time to allow himself to be vulnerable in front of you. To allow you to see the worst part of him. To see the monster beneath. He was certain he'd lose you. And yet, you're still here, beside him.

William is more than delighted to know you aren't ready to leave him. To know you'll stay. He doesn't entirely understand his feelings himself, but he has them, and that's all that matters.

To say William cares about birthdays is an understatement. He doesn't make big things, but he shows his care for sure. So don't you dare think you'll be an exception.

He has been quite busy lately, but he made sure he'd be here for your birthday. From waking to sleep. He stays in bed with you until you stir awake. Your eyes flutter open, the first sight being his blonde locks.

He presses a gentle kiss on your forehead and lets you get ready while he goes preparing breakfast for you. Going downstairs, you smell the sweet scent of food filling your nose.

He serves you, as well as himself, before eating and letting you talk of whatever comes in your mind. He could listen to you all day long, but today wasn't that. He'd spend some quality time with you, no matter what.

He helps you putting on your coat, and holds your hand as you get inside the carriage. He feels your head resting on his shoulder, and he simply caresses the back of your hand with his thumb.

Getting into town, he dismisses the carriage for now. No need for that. He wants you to enjoy the place. If there's something appealing to you, he'll be ready to let you have it. But in the end, he's mostly the one who wants to buy you things.

A beautiful necklace, it'd go perfectly around your neck. Gesturing you to get closer, he carefully puts it around your neck and smiles. “It looks beautiful on you.„ his voice, smooth and quiet, holds so much love. Without hesitation, he buys it for you.

You walk hands in hands, past bakeries and shops, stopping when something would be nice for you. You're definitely spoiled, and it was unexpected for you. You aren't with William for his money, and he knows it. But today, he wants to make sure you'll remember it.

By the evening, inside the carriage to get back home, he lets you rest against him. It has been a tiring day after all, yet so thrilling. But the best was to come in his eyes.

Entering the manor, the living room has been decorated especially for you, a bouquet from Fred's garden waiting as well as a freshly baked cake by Louis. And they were all here too. Well, some like Sebastian aren't so happy, but they could make that effort.

He has planned it all, and it was worth it. For that smile, those happy tears, and those laughers and happiness filling the manor for the rest of the evening.

⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚︵‿︵‿୨✧༺♥༻∞୧‿︵‿︵‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

He has never been much of a talker. Ever since you both met, he mostly listened to you, no matter what you'd say. And he has a great memory too.

Fred is a caring man, he just stays quiet. He doesn't want to be noticed, he likes his tranquility, despite the circumstances of his current work under William. He absolutely adores the idea of being in charge of the garden, though.

He doesn't show it, but he appreciates plants and flowers. And whenever you may search him, you always find him there. He's peacefully repotting some flowers, to make sure they can grow further.

His head snaps up when you ask him if you can help. “Shouldn't you.. be with the others, celebrating your birthday..?„ he's unsure. He looks at you with suspicions, but in the end, he relents. You must have your reasons to not be celebrating it with them.

He loves spending time with you, but he doesn't want you to restrain yourself from having a good time just because he's tending to flowers.

But when he sees you, right here, with a smile as you carefully move a flower, it feels him with joy. He doesn't show his love much, he does it through small gestures like making sure there's always some of your favourite flowers in the bedroom for the scent. Or to stay with you throuhough breakfast.

It's those small gestures that makes you love him even more each day. And you just want to spend time with him, especially today.

He shyly scoots closer to you, to correct you. “You shouldn't be doing it like that.. it can hurt the roots.„ he doesn't scold you, he just tries to teach you.

Yet, he doesn't move away once done. He stays close. Until he gathered the courage to press his lips against your temple. “Happy birthday.„

It's cute, the way he quickly walks away to care for other plants. But you just thank him quietly. The day passes in a blur, and without even noticing, the moon is in the sky, and you're both still in the greenhouse.

He holds you tight against him, the garden not over yet but it's too late to keep working. And he has cut a rose to give you, making sure to also cut the thorns so you can't get hurt.

“We should head back inside, it's getting cold.„ he helps you up, until you're both home. He even helps to wash your hands, in your sleepy state.

He never thought he'd enjoy gardening with someone so much, and yet..

૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ -ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ- ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

/ᐠ - ˕ •マ Ⳋ mayuchi's property. do not repost, copy or translate without permission.

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majorasnightmare · 7 months ago

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the tadpole/brain damage thing. its like. chekovs gun to me. obviously theres very little mechanical support ingame for having a disabling injury, aside from maybe an optional voluntary decision to drop the INT score, but similarly to choosing to write intention into the lack of dark urge Lore responses from the party, i just like to make mountains out of molehills and force game mechanics into In Universe Character Problems

like when dirge repeatedly mentions that he thinks the tadpole is doing something beneficial for him, that its helping him, it isnt JUST the power-hungry psionic ambition in him. its a parasite, that needs a host. it needs a LIVING host, or its own chances of survival plummet. and dirge gets tadpoled right after a life threatening injury to the tadpoles preferred habitat. neither of them want to die!! dirges body tries to recover, but cant in part BECAUSE of the tadpole (the netherese stasis magic rejecting outside influence and binding it to its host, having an unejectable foreign object in the injury site, etc), but its not like the tadpole WANTS its host to have a life altering injury

its not like its malicious (except when it comes to Hive Activity, and then it can be a right bastard), it just cant live any other way. it cant help what it is. halsin calls the illithid life cycle abberant and unnatural, but brood parasitism exists throughout the natural kingdom. is the wasp egg evil for having been laid in a caterpillar?

its first moments of life outside the brine pool, and its new home, its new life, its host, its caregiver, its food supply, is bleeding and dying and falling apart and trying to fix itself but cant and its trying to heal around you but it cant but if it doesnt do anything youll both die, so this larva, this tiny worm of psionic potential and instinct, does what it can. holds its host together with whatever force it can muster, soft gelatinous body (perfect for compreesing flat and squeezing through small orifice openings) keratinizing outside the acidic environment of the brine, its four oral tentacles (its only source of motion and movement when so young and soft, dragging itself along as best it can) made for interweaving with dense synapse clusters to passively absorb the psionic imprint of its host, now desperately intwined with bleeding meat just to try and hold it all together. driven by survival instict and a vessel of psychic potential, forced into passivity by the commands of the Elder, further forced by circumstance to leverage all its great gifts to keep its host standing long enough to eventually eat

my thought is that the reason why dirge still gets the cutscene of the emperor tadpoling him at the beginning of the game, is that the original tadpole orin forced on him is just so weakened and exhausted by months of effort trying to keep him alive through kressas experiments and meddling, that the emperor, currently in thrall to the absolute, feels the need to replace it with a fresher healthier specimen, which then cannibalizes and absorbs the previous one, and then just has to go back to doing the same shit as the last one.

i think that dirges tadpole isnt as twitchy or squirmy as the others because of it. that when omeluum gives him a psychic MRI, the tadpole is just burrowed down and its tendrils stretched like a dense net throughout dirges brain tissue, only moving or writhing occasionally but definitely not as mobile as usual, its web of tendrils especially twisted near dense scar tissue at the back of his head. this worm is already so fucking weird and the circumstances for this mind flayer MRI have already introduced a bajillion different variables that need accounting for, that i dont think omeluum immediately groks the specifics of whats going on but CAN peg the "you have brain damage and your worm is fucking Weird" situation fairly easily. but i dont think it gets enough time in dirges head to get a full understanding of what the tadpole is doing FOR him

cuz like. imo its definitely objectively helping. its a psychic information bank specifically designed to interface with a human brain. the reason why dirge isnt experiencing too many of the side effects of brain damage is because the parasite is doing its best to mitigate them. memory issues, brain fog, disorientation and balancing issues, theyd all be significantly worse without the parasite. when he brings up how he feels its helping him, objectively hes right and its not even the kickass psychic powers hes right about.

like it doesnt cure EVERYTHING, he has chronic migraines that are sensitive to light, and before he asks halsin to make medicine, he starts every morning puking his guts out when the morning sun makes him so nauseous he cant hold dinner down. even without the Urge Nightmares, he has insomnia and just cant meaningfully sleep. but keeping track of what day it is, remembering what happened a few hours ago or the other day, standing up from a sitting position and not immediately wobbling and/or collapsing, retaining his old muscle memory. all shit the parasite is helping with

which is why i cant help but fixate on those moments immediately after defeating the absolute. like oh thats juicy

#bg3 durge #bg3 #bg3 dark urge #bg3 the dark urge #durge #the dark urge #long post #dirgeposting #god. visibility tags DONE time for tag RAMBLES #anyways permanently disabled dirge my BELOVEDDDDDD #also makes mintharas hypocricsy more enjoyable. because like i feel like she places a lot of value in effort and ability #so when someone is disabled i feel like she interprets that as a weakness of will to not find a way to thrive or persevere regardless #but just straight up makes an exception in that logic for dirge #because she KNOWS him and knows WHY hes disabled and why there isnt much to be done for it.#so its not his fault and he does enough and he shouldnt blame himself. everyone ELSE tho #shes very much a ''i wouldnt let it stop me'' kind of person. except when it very much does stop dirge but its fine cuz hes her slayer #she does this logical leap for things a lot. like when shes fond of someone or something she suspends a lot of her more critical beliefs #wizards are stupid and blow themselves up. except for you 💜 if ur dumb enough to get betrayed u probably deserved it. except for karlach 💜#if you dont push through ur injuries ur lowkey bitchmade. except for MY special little guy 💜💜💜#nuanced evil lovergirl my FAAAAAAAVE

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homestuckreplay · 2 months ago

Text

How Does Dave See John?

TG: dont talk to john anymore hes an impressionable doofus (p.1657)

Ever since reading Davesprite’s conversation with gallowsCalibrator where he chastises her for getting John killed, I’ve struggled to get it off my mind. There’s a few passing references in early acts, but Act 4 is the first time we’ve seen Dave talk extensively about John, with John not around – and he paints an interesting picture.

GC: SO JOHN 4CTU4LLY D1D WH4T 1 S41D? TG: yeah TG: im telling you TG: huge pushover TG: he will do what you say TG: unless it happens to be for his own good TG: then all a sudden hes a tough nut to crack go figure (p.1657)

In this chatlog, Dave hasn’t spoken to John for four months – before that, they likely spoke every day for years. That’s a big hole in Dave’s life, so of course he’s furious with the person who caused that. It makes sense, as well, that Dave’s opinions of John are overshadowed by that important final interaction, not by their day to day mutual teasing and goofing off.

Here, Davesprite sees John as someone he has to defend, and as someone who’s easily manipulated and not really capable of making his own decisions. Whether or not that’s actually true, it makes sense coming from someone who’s spent four grueling months mastering time travel and personal independence under life or death conditions, and pre-sprite future Dave expresses something similar when talking to Rose.

TG: i go back and tell john not to be an idiot and get trolled like such a gullible stooge (p.1643)

It’d be a fair interpretation to say that Davesprite’s hero complex is about wanting to save the whole timeline, all of his friends and maybe even the future of humanity, and John just happens to be the specific person who needs saving to accomplish that. However, I personally think this is about Dave’s feelings towards John specifically, and I have three different angles I want to briefly discuss this from: Dave’s birthday note, gender, and fan interpretations.

Dave’s Note.

A few pages after GC and Davesprite’s conversation, we see the note Dave included with John’s birthday package – most likely written in early April of 2009, a week or so before the kids play Sburb. Here’s about 2/3 of the note quoted in full.

i would suggest you put it somewhere and display it ironically but i know youre dead serious about this ridiculous shit so youll probably sleep with the damn thing and nibble its ear and stuff but the weird thing is thats whats cool about you. youre this naive guy like pinocchio tumbled ass backwards off the turnip truck and started liking ghostbusters. then the fairy godmother kissed your nose or some shit and you turned out to be not made of wood and also pretty cool to talk to. one day your gooberish ways are gonna land you in a jam and i know im going to have to get you off the hook but its cool i got your back bro. then we'll meet and hug bump and get each others filthy wife beaters that much filthier so yeah (p.1662)

Here’s the key points I’m getting from this.

Dave defines John by the differences between them.

The way Dave sees John is almost infantilizing; he definitely thinks John is more innocent than he is and less capable of taking care of himself.

Dave loves John so, so much, and he can’t help but express that, even when it contradicts his usual persona.

Irony versus sincerity is a big theme in John and Dave’s conversations dating back to Act 1, as is their respective opinions on pieces of media – usually things John likes and Dave doesn’t, with GameBro Magazine as a notable exception (p.26). Another theme is Dave’s ‘expertise’, with him often positioning himself as knowing more than John and flaunting his superior knowledge, like with their conversations about John’s sylladex and strife specibus (p.35).

In truth, Dave probably has more life experience than John. Bro certainly isn’t trying to keep him sheltered from anything, and Dave is constantly in dangerous situations and surrounded by adult content. He lives in a city, gets into fights, has partly raised himself, and probably hangs out in some weird corners of the internet. John’s life is hard in different ways – he’s a lot more sheltered, and he’s been allowed to have a longer childhood. Even their shared gifts reflect this. John gives Dave a gift that hides his face, makes him look older, shields him from a tough world, and was worn by an adult in a movie. Dave gives John a gift that’s typically given to a young child (Casey is around seven in Con Air) and represents vulnerability, softness, and a need for comfort.

Even if he doesn’t admit it, Dave might wish he’d had a childhood more like John’s. He wants John to have what he couldn’t, which might be why he tries to hide the weirdest things Bro does (and his own discomfort with them) from John. And he wants to use the combat skills he’s learning from Bro to protect someone, instead of hurt them. The love between them is defining and specific, and I actually do think that Dave would go further to protect John than he would to protect Rose or Jade, even though he cares about them a lot too. It’s difficult to find hard evidence for this – it’s really more of a feeling - but the closest I’ve got is that he sends Jade a signed Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff poster for her birthday, which isn’t even in the same league as the Con Air bunny.

There are definitely examples of Dave being naive and oblivious to the world, like when he’s telling himself he loves puppets and is totally chill with Cal, and there are examples of John being smart and intuitive, like when he starts to realize WV is controlling him and fights back. Those things are true of them as individuals, and are even visible in a fair few of their conversations (see p.287 for a great example) but when Dave talks about John, he leans really hard into their experienced/naive dichotomy. I think it’d be so interesting if, when they meet in person one day, they’re forced to confront these other sides of each other and put into a situation where John gets to be the one to take care of Dave and demonstrate his own capabilities.

Gender.

ok so that was all based on the text, now let’s talk headcanons and wild speculation: I think these kids might be transgender.

John, in Act 1 and 2, is characterized by detachment from his life, discomfort in his relationship with his father, and a strict, by the numbers understanding of certain trappings of ‘normal’ life. Dad leaves a piece of paper taped behind his safe, addressing John as ‘son’ and focusing on John’s strength and manliness (p.546). Dad himself is extremely strong, able to lift anything Jack Noir uses to keep him contained and fight the strongest Derse agents, and these are clearly the qualities he prizes in his son too. John also thinks that a ‘proper gentleman’ needs a monocle (p.27) and that a father needs a pipe (p.74), both of which are pretty weird and outdated ideas about masculinity which definitely come from old movies, not from actual deeply held beliefs.

John is also 100% capable of repressing very obvious parts of himself for a very long time, like with the clown graffiti on his walls (p.1001). So, distancing himself from being a man combined with obliviousness towards parts of his own mind makes it possible that John is a trans woman, and hasn’t figured this out yet. Worth mentioning also that John is the only kid to change his Pesterchum handle within the timeline of the story, and John later changing his name would be a very cool resonance.

Dave is more complex, and in a vacuum I think it’s possible to read his gender a few different ways – but it’s most interesting to me if he’s a trans man who came out and socially transitioned when he was a young child. It explains why he spends so much time online (it’s the place he can guarantee being stealth) and why he works SO hard to consciously construct his ironic persona, and works even harder to make it look effortless. Dave has always struck me as this person who’s constantly working twice as hard to keep up with what comes easily and naturally to others, and still not always getting it right. That applies to coolness, which he fails at because wearing sunglasses indoors isn’t actually cool, it applies to fighting, which he fails at when Bro kicks his ass every time even after years of training, and it applies to masculinity, where he’s constantly fighting against hitting puberty and how others perceive him when other boys around him don’t have to deal with any of that. And because he’s working so hard to pass and be accepted, Dave has definitely internalized some gender roles which aren’t that great, and leans way too hard into the ‘asshole teenage boy’ stereotype – like in his first conversation with adiosToreador (p.1099). It’s shitty for sure, but he also doesn’t have someone like John’s dad to be a better example of masculinity.

So I think Dave actively and intentionally buys into masculinity infinitely more than John does, and part of that is leaning into the ‘protector’ role when it comes to his friends. In this read, I don’t think either John or Dave consciously suspect anything about the other’s gender or trans status – but a real-world phenomenon that I and a lot of my friends have experienced is making queer friends while young and feeling a strong connection to them, despite not knowing each other is queer. Consciously, John and Dave think of each other as ‘best bros’ but there’s also an unconscious understanding that they share something deeper. Dave’s protectiveness of John extends to being ready to support and even physically defend John if and when he starts exploring gender, and John’s clear respect for Dave is partly because beneath the irony, Dave is taking the risk of expressing a very authentic part of himself in ways that John is currently not ready to.

As mentioned above, although they tease each other, a lot of their interactions are roughly built on this perceived dichotomy between John’s earnestness and whimsy versus Dave’s irony and impatience. So I think it’s interesting if the difference between them extends to being different genders, and is subverted by John being the one who’s actually putting up a front and Dave being the one who’s actually being himself. And, of course, their close friendship represents a shared trans solidarity.

Fan Interpretations.

I really like my interpretations here, but I’m not the only person reading this comic. On April 10, 2010, which of course is today, lots of people feel very differently. A lot of first-year Homestuck fans were also Problem Sleuth fans (or read it after catching up on Homestuck), and Problem Sleuth, plus a good number of other webcomics, don’t invite much complex character analysis. I’ve seen people shocked by the tone shift following ‘[S] Dave: Accelerate’, because they’ve never seen a webcomic kill two of its main characters, send two others to a dark timeline, and take those ideas seriously.

I have no way of knowing what’s discussed on the MSPA forums, but across multiple other forums, most people one-dimensionally see Dave as ‘cool’ and as someone to emulate, and John as ‘stupid’ and as someone to enjoy reading about but to feel superior to. In this way, they’re specifically leaning into Dave’s perceptions of both himself and John. Dave describes John as ‘gooberish’ in his note – a word that has never appeared in Homestuck before, but has definitely come up in forum discussions.

In sitcoms, it’s pretty common for characters to feel like real people in season one, but by season five, their most extreme and comedic traits are exaggerated while their more nuanced and human traits are suppressed. I think a lot of this comes from how viewers respond to these characters, and what becomes their ‘iconic’ moments in early seasons. That’s the case even with a lot of distance between writers and audience – in Homestuck, Hussie engages so much with fans and reads the MSPA forums in real time, so it’s likely that fan interpretations could influence in-comic characterization. This feels especially true now the cast of characters is expanding so much, which makes it harder to keep track of the complexities of each one.

Overall, I really love John and Dave’s existing dynamic, and how all the beta kids have been characterized so far. In all cases, there’s great groundwork for future character arcs. It’d be a real shame to see any of them become caricatures of themselves. And while I don’t think this is happening in a serious way yet, there are slight shifts in how they’ve been written over time. That could be their changing responses to situations in universe, or could be Hussie’s changing understandings of the characters, and either way I think it’s something to pay attention to. So despite the risk of ending this post on a negative note, I’m going to finish by putting these two interactions side by side.

EB: i do things ironically sometimes. EB: what about what i sent you for your birthday? TG: no those are awesome EB: what? no, they're stupid, which was the joke. the IRONIC joke. get it? EB: wait... EB: you're actually wearing them, aren't you? TG: im wearing them ironically TG: because theyre awesome TG: the fact that theyre ironic makes them awesome TG: and vice versa (p.110)

EB: yeah, of course! EB: there was no way i wasn't trying out this sweet ride. TG: god dammit what do i have to do to make you believe me TG: fist bump my future self til i got bloody knuckles and write you an even sappier bday note in my own blood TG: on a back to the future poster EB: relax, i'm not going through the gate! EB: i am just flying around, and having a good time in the sky. (p.1667)

#homestuck #analysis #john egbert #dave strider #fuck. is this anything. im so tired but i wanted to post this for the ✨homestuck beta 1 year anniversary ✨#worth noting that john originally being 10 in the beta could feed into all this!!#also OFF TOPIC but yall should subscribe to dropout before may 6th bc prices will be going up after that (for new subscribers)#cancel any and all other streaming services if you have them #and if you don't have $6 a month maybe find 2 or 3 friends and share the price and the account #i promise you. this is the only video/tv/etc service you should be paying for. this is the only life advice im qualified to give you #poob does not have it for you. dropout has it for you.#chrono

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burntb4bydoll · 2 years ago

Note

It's my first time requesting something on here, I am CRAVING for any Tokio Hotel member with a kind/sweet/obedient reader, I usually can't find stories/headcanons with them where the reader is a sweet and obedient girl, feel free to ignore this request if you want to.

Bae this is so me fr (for the most part😇)

Tokio Hotel with a sweet and obedient gf (slightly NSFW)

Bill Kaulitz

•hes completely infatuated with you. you could do anything you wanted to him and he would let you.

•he thinks that you are an absolute angel. He loves how sweet you are, it makes him so proud to be your bf

•would NEVER let people take advantage of you or your kindness. You don’t like disappointing people by saying ‘no’ but he has absolutely no problem doing it for you

• “sweetheart, you can’t do everything people ask you to. You are too sweet for your own good sometimes I swear.”

•he means that in a endearing way dw! He wouldn’t change a single thing about you

•he tries to test your obedience tbh. He’ll tell you to do something small then slowly start telling you to do more, but you never disobey him. And he makes sure to praise you very well for it

• “oh my, what a good girl. You listen so well, angel. Im so proud of you.”

•definitely is more of a soft dom with you, he can’t imagine being mean to his sweet girl🤭

Tom Kaulitz

•oh boy…

•you two are opposites. He’ll try to get you to do and say bad/mean things just to see if youll actually do it

•your hesitant because you dont wanna be mean, but you obey him and he immediately cant help but smirk to himself

•Bill always scolds him for it tho, you can’t escape mama Bill.

“Tom, Leave her alone! Y/n don’t listen to him, hes an idiot.” 😭

•he thinks its so cute watching you interact with his family. You’re just so sweet and they all love you so much. Hes so happy that they love you just as much as he does

•HIS MOM LOVES YOU. SHE TAKES SO MANY PICTURES OF YOU AND TOM AND SHOWS THEM TO EVERYONE. SHE CALLS YOU HER DAUGHTER TOO😭💗

•not to be a whore….but CORRUPTION KINK?? HELLO???

•LOVES pet names. He calls you princess, sweetheart, my love🤭🤭

Georg Listing

•LORD he is obsessed with you omfg

•you are absolutely everything to him. You’re his precious girl who could never EVER do anything wrong in his eyes

•literally refers to you as his ‘lovely girlfriend’ to people 😭

•his heart almost explodes whenever you do anything for him. Whether that be cooking him food, drawing/coloring a picture for him, or just giving him a small compliment, he’ll always be so so appreciative of it

•HES SO SOFT WITH YOU. He kisses youholds your face so gently while stroking your cheeks with his thumbs:(((

• “You’re such a sweetheart, you know that? I love you so much, my sweet girl.”

Gustav Schäfer

•hes also such a sweetheart, but he likes to pretend like hes all mean and unapproachable😭

•like babe, you are probably the cutest person here you’re not fooling anyone.

•you two are known for being the super lovey couple. He loves to show you off and you’re just happy to be there😇

•although you’re both sweet, you’re the only obedient one in the relationship. He such a brat and LOVES to push peoples buttons just to see how far he can go before someone actually gets mad😭

•BLUSHES SO SO HARD WHEN YOU COMPLIMENT HIM

•you guys are the embodiment of a praise kink. Neither of you can go 5 minutes without being and all nice and lovey dovey to each other

•dare i say….pleasure Dom Gustav…. GUYS IK I SAY IT ALL THE TIME BUT PLS YOU KNOW ITS TRUE

• “such a good girl for me, arent you?”

“Aww, you’re so cute, my baby.” Yes. HIS baby.😇

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blushingbubbles · 4 months ago

Note

bubblesss need ur help

i wanna take nudes (mainly for myself, until i’m confident enough to post them) but i wanna do it in a way where my arms don’t show much (i have arm tattoos) and you can’t see anything above the shoulders (don’t want ppl recognizing me lolz) any tips??

i was thinking about just dming you, but i thought your answer could be helpful for others since you’re so good at taking pictures :3

HIIIII IM SO EXCITED THANK YOU FOR COMING TO ME!!!

I too have tattoos on my arms. im PETRIFIED of people recognizing them.

initially i used the "markup" option in photos and matched the color with my skin. if you choose the markup option in photos:

dont use one color for the whole piece of ur skin. use three. one base, one highlight, and one shadow. it doesnt have to be perfect! ur tits will steal all of the attention anyway. but if you want to cover them using the markup option, using 3+ colors over them is the way to go.

now, i take so many pictures is not worth my time to cover up my tattoos, so i just frame the photo without them

i usually press my arms against my sides. this pushes the tits up and also positions the arms correctly to avoid seeing the ink

no tattoos

i also take all of my tit pictures zoomed out a little (have an iphone with the little zoom out selfie option on it) BUT when i dont have that option selected, you can hardly see my arms!! so that's an option too.

when i dont zoom out on my own photos tho, i feel like it makes the photo aesthetically boring. idk i need contrast and depth in my pics. so if you take them like this and ur like "it doesnt look right.... what's wrong with me?" know that there's nothing wrong with you

if your tattoos are in your elbows, try angling up.

when you take a photo from this angle, instinct will make you want to look at the camera. don't. youll get a double chin or something else that you can't crop out!

if your tattoos cover your upper arms and you want to be SUPER SAFE, wear clothes!!

ik you're like "wtf ru on? this is a nude and we dont do clothes."

i stand by it that the clothed tiddy pics are better than the unclothed ones 🥰🫠

for ass pics, i lovvvvvve taking them in bed. you can position your blanket however you wqnt and it becomes a little prop for you. you wont even need your arm in it.!!

i hope this helps sunnybun!!!i cant (can!! take your time!!) wait to see what pics u get!!! 💕💕

#it answers #attention wh0r3 #needy slvt #needy wh0re #dumb slvt #dumb wh0re #good girls make more good girls #@nal slvt

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soullumii · 2 years ago

Text

masked up | joel miller x f!reader

pairing: joel miller x fem!afab!reader

summary: joel fucks you while wearing his gas mask

warnings/tags: 18+ content MDNI, very self indulgent smut (unprotected piv oops, mask kink 🤭, vaginal fingering, riding joel cowgirl because that is for sure his fav position, little bit of a bulge kink, oral [m receiving]) descriptions of blood and violence, established relationship (married!! whoop whoop!!), making joel call you “my wife” because i’m weak for that shit, soft!joel, protective!joel, this got sappy, pet names galore as usual, NO USE OF Y/N

word count: 4.2k

a/n: i can’t explain how i feel about joel wearing a gas mask. i swear every time he put it on while i was playing tlou pt 1 i moaned /hj. just HEAR ME OUT PLEEK. JUST WATCH THIS (it’s a tiktok edit) OK YOULL UNDERSTAND.

You don’t mean for the mask to become a thing.

But it does. It becomes a Thing™.

It all starts and ends with Joel, like good and bad things usually do. And this thing is no exception.

But it all begins with something bad.

Coming across spores nowadays is few and far between for you. You're not usually on patrol much, your job being to tend to the crops in the greenhouse and feed the livestock.

Today, though, you’re not so lucky. With Tommy out sick, you’re filling in for him. Thankfully, though, you’re paired with Joel, your very lovely and very experienced in the art of dealing with infected, husband. So you know if you come across spores, your husband will have your back.

Spores are annoying, but they're manageable with gas masks. When you and Joel enter an abandoned office building on a new patrol route and you catch sight of the little specks floating through the air, you immediately put yours on, Joel doing just the same.

The floaty fungal fuckers themselves aren't scary, especially not when you have the gas masks to keep you safe. It's just what waits in the shadows that scares you, because where there are spores, there's infected. Lots of them.

And usually interspersed in that conglomerate of stalkers and clickers are the big, meaty ones. The kind that have been sitting and festering for years. The kind that could literally rip you into pieces, regardless if you have a gas mask on or not. Bloaters, yeah, those big shits. The fucking bane of your existence.

Unfortunately, the one lazing around in this abandoned office building must somehow pick up on your undying hate for them because within minutes of you and Joel looting the place for all it’s worth, it comes clambering out of what used to be a conference room.

It's a big one. Noticeably disgusting, outrageously hideous, growling and slobbering as it slings mycotoxin at you. It's not very fast, and yet it's so fucking terrifying as it lumbers after you, because you know exactly what it’s capable of.

You're shooting at it with whatever arrows you have left in your backpack (though they’re mostly just bouncing off it’s thick fungal exterior), and Joel's crunching out shot after shot with his shotgun, but neither of you are hardly making a dent.

God, you wish Joel had brought the flamethrower he keeps in his storage room. You’d make a Molotov cocktail, but with the other infected hot on your heels, there's no time.

A stalker comes crawling out of the shadows behind you, knocking over an office chair in the process, and you whip around to lodge an arrow right between its eyes. Two more come swinging out of nowhere, and you're so focused on trying to get rid of them so that they can't reach you—can't reach Joel—that you don't realize you've left your back unattended until a large, gross excuse for a hand lands hard on your shoulder, lugging you backwards with inhuman strength.

Joel shouts your name with increased panic, and you hear his gun fire off more rounds into the bloater's back, but it doesn't care, it's hands finding your head and jaw, gripping you so tight you think it might shatter your mandible.

"Joel!" You scream, eyes squeezing shut as the pain in your jaw multiplies.

This motherfucker is about to rip you clean in half—

You think this is it, I'm about to die in front of my husband by being torn from the jaw down, but, thankfully, death never comes. Instead, the bloater releases you with a pained roar as the sound of squelching fills your ears. You manage to back away enough to watch Joel tug the bloater off of you by the handle of his machete, the blade lodged in its chest.

He pulls the machete out only to swing it down in an arc straight into its head, repeatedly. Blood splatters all over him as he bludgeons the wretched thing. Over his veiny arms, his black mask. It sinks into the fabric of his flannel.

And funnily enough, this is when it becomes a thing.

The bloater crumples to the floor with a gurgling groan as it finally dies, and Joel turns to you, chest heaving and eyes wide and panicked. They soften, relieved when he catches sight of you physically intact, though, mentally a bit checked out.

Whether that’s because you’re in shock or because your brain is rewiring as it files this new image of Joel away, who knows? Maybe it's a little bit of both.

“Are you okay?" Joel asks, sheathing his machete to look you over. His hands catch your jaw gently, a welcome contrast to the bloater. He turns it this way and that, checking for any damage or possible bites.

A traitorous thrumming starts up between your thighs as he stares you down through the lenses of his mask.

"I'm fine, Joel," you say, breathlessly. "Thanks."

“Thank god,” he squeezes your arm lovingly, grateful to see you in one piece. “Let’s get outta here.”

- - -

"Do you like the masks?" You ask him eventually, when you're back outside, the setting sun warming you pleasantly as the tall borders of Jackson rise in the distance.

You both took the masks off the minute you escaped the spores, but a part of you secretly hoped Joel would keep his on.

Joel scratches at his graying beard. "They keep us safe. Don't feel much for 'em at all really." He glances sidelong at you, a curious quirk to his lips. "Why?"

You shrug, "No reason."

Just trying to figure out if you'd wear it during sex if I asked you to, that's all.

“Alright, somethin's up," Joel says. "You've got the look.”

“What look?”

“The sex look.”

You halt in your hike, turning to narrow your eyes at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Joel fails to stifle a chuckle. “You’re horny. That’s the face you make when you want to have sex. Like you wanna eat me alive.”

Shit. He’s found you out.

“How would you know?”

He blinks. “Honey, I’m married to ya. Of course I’m gonna know.”

Valid. Still-

"I’m not horny," you try to defend, though you've never been good at lying, and based on the self satisfied smile Joel wears, you know he sees right through you. "We almost died, Joel. Maybe this is my 'loving every minute of my life' look."

"I know that look. This ain't it."

Jesus Christ.

You sigh heavily. “Okay, yes. Maybe I am a little horny.”

"Because…what? We almost died? That gets you goin'?"

"No," you grit. You can’t even look at him when you say it. “It’s the mask.”

His brows knit. “The...gas mask?”

You nod tightly.

“I don’t think I’m followin’,” Joel says.

Is he seriously asking you to spell it out for him?

You take a deep, steadying breath. You don’t quite know how to phrase this, so you just go for it. “Watching you save my life in the gas mask just sort of woke something up in me. It was hot.”

“Oh.”

Yup. He definitely thinks you’re crazy.

“So, what, you want me to fuck you while wearin' the mask or somethin’?”

Heat pools heavy and thick between your thighs at his words, your heart hammering behind your ribs. “Something like that, yeah.”

Joel straightens. “...Okay. I can do that.”

Your head whips up. “Wait, seriously?”

“You’re my wife. If you asked me to fuck you with a damn jester’s hat on I’d do it.”

You laugh. “Okay, let’s not go that far.”

“I’d really do it for you.”

“It sounds like you actually want to wear it.”

He chuckles, and you two resume walking back to Jackson. “Alright, so, gas mask on tonight,” he says. “Any other requests?”

“Since you’re asking…maybe you could wear a cowboy hat sometime…”

- - -

"Jesus, you're really lovin' this," Joel muses.

You're laid out beneath him in your shared bed, his long calloused fingers deep in your cunt, his thumb circling slowly over your clit, drawing out your pleasure, stretching it like taffy. Your jeans are still on, unbuttoned and unzipped, and your soiled underwear is pulled to the side as Joel’s hands unwind you.

You're grasping onto his muscled forearm for dear life, moans leaking out of you in a steady stream as he fucks his fingers into you, curling up to stroke that spot that has you clenching down hard on his digits as the burning starts in your toes, climbing up your thighs.

He looks so fucking good with that mask situated over his handsome face, his peppered hair flipping out over the straps that keep it snug on him. His eyes are dark through the lenses as they watch you unravel before him, almost black from how dilated his pupils are.

His jeans are still on, his erection straining hard against his zipper. The flannel he wore earlier is gone, giving you the perfect view of his toned chest and the dark hair that dusts it. There's still some blood stains on his mask. Every time you catch sight of them, your body ignites with something carnal and hungry.

"’Cause, you look hot," you huff between moans.

Joel laughs, deep and rumbling, and the mask warbles it a bit, adding a distortion to his voice that for some reason makes everything happening so much hotter. “I still don’t really get it, but if it’s makin’ you this wet, I don’t care.”

You moan particularly loud at the sound of his voice muffled through the mask and cant your hips against his hand, the combination of his thumb circling your clit and his fingers fucking up into you has you dangling dangerously close to the edge.

“I-I’m close, Joel.”

His brows furrow behind his mask, and he quirks his fingers inside you even more, and you jolt against his hand.

“C’mon then, baby. Come for me. Show me how much this pretty pussy loves this mask.”

Fucking shit. When you first met Joel, he hardly spoke a single word, and even when you got him to open up more, he was thoughtful with what he said, chose his words carefully. Unless he was angry, then he could be a bit of an ass.

In bed though? Shit, if you can get him to shut up it’s a damn miracle.

“F-fuck, Joel,” you whine, legs stiffening as your orgasm swells inside you, a match striking, lighting up your viscera as pleasure fast-releases inside your veins.

“There you go baby, that’s it,” Joel purrs. “So pretty when you come.”

You inhale shakily as the last few shocks fizzle through you, your clit throbbing as you come down from your high.

“Fuck…” you huff, trying to catch your breath.

He strokes your thigh lovingly, and if you could see him behind the mask you’d assume he’s probably wearing that soft smile that he gets sometimes that melts you into a puddle of mushy gushy feelings.

Joel leans back on his knees. “Now it’s time to deliver on that promise,” he says, and your skin tingles at the sound of his zipper.

“Wait,” you tell him, and he stops, looking at you in concern.

“Somethin’ wrong?”

“No I just…I wanna show you how much this means to me.”

“Me wearin’ this mask? It’s not a big deal-“

You sit up and plant your hands on his chest, pushing him down until his back hits the mattress, effectively shutting him up.

You swing your leg over him, situating yourself right on his lap and peel off your tank, delighting in the way his eyes widen and his hands come down to settle warmly on your thighs.

The muscles in his arms shift as he squeezes your flesh. The drag of the crotch of his jeans against yours has you biting your lip, a zing of pleasure shooting through you.

Joel’s eyes have darkened behind his mask, his pupils swallowing his irises whole besides the thin circle of hazel remaining at the edges as he watches you.

“I’ve never hated jeans more than I do right now,” he says lowly, his gaze dropping to the rapid rise and fall of your chest.

His strong hands slide up from your thighs to your hips to your waist, his dry, calloused skin causing goosebumps to rise in their wake. Finally, his palms cup your breasts, unrestrained by a bra because they’re too hard to come by in this day and age.

He squeezes gently, and your nipples tighten beneath his palms. And then he rolls one between his thumb and forefinger, and your back arches, pressing you further into him. Your hips grind down automatically, and Joel releases a hazy moan.

“Maybe,” you gasp when you roll your hips again, reveling in the delicious friction against your clit. “You should take them off.”

“Yours first.”

You don’t press him on it. You want your jeans off. So you lift yourself off of him and the bed to tug at your zipper, and Joel watches raptly as you pull your skinny jeans down your thighs, kicking them off your ankles.

And then you’re only in your underwear, and you throw your legs astride him again, the cloth of your underwear catching deliciously on the tent in his jeans. Joel’s hands find your body immediately, like a sweet tooth to a chocolate bar. His fingers dig into your flesh, and he grips your thighs, pulling them apart to set you on him fully. A shudder wracks your spine at the feeling of him pressed against your throbbing core.

“Goddamn,” he growls, eyes roving over you hungrily. “So fuckin’ perfect.”

You grind down on the hard outline of his cock, and Joel can’t help his reflexive thrust into you, and you sigh.

“I need you in me, Joel,” you whisper, leaning forward to plant your hands on his broad chest, your fingers messing with the hair dusting his sternum. “Need your cock filling me up.”

“Christ,” he swears, eyes falling shut as he bucks again. “Need’a be in you, sweetheart.”

His hands find your hips and then your ass, squeezing the muscle cultivated there from twenty years of surviving in an apocalyptic world.

His fingers dip beneath the waistband of your panties, warm and confident. He lightly rakes his fingernails over your skin, running his calloused fingertips reverently over the stretch marks on your hips.

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he whispers through the mask. “Wish I could kiss you.”

You shiver and your arms loop around his neck. His back is scarred beneath your hands, and you rub gently into the muscle of his traps, causing Joel to release a groan.

His hand gravitates from your hips to the apex of your thighs, and your breath catches in your throat at the warmth radiating from his fingers when he positions them just below where you want him most.

He circles your clit again, smooth pleasure seeping through your nerve endings and your head falls back in a relaxed moan. You grind against the hard outline of his cock and the pads of his fingers against your clit, each slow drag of your hips causing pleasure to fizzle through you, like a flavored tab in a glass of water.

Your hands travel down his chest and stomach, outlining the thick, jagged scar there. Over his dark happy trail that starts just above his belly button and leads down to what your body is desperately craving. A little treasure map.

You deftly undo the button and zipper and Joel makes a wrecked noise in the back of his throat when your hand brushes the hard outline of him through his briefs.

“Wanna show you how much I like you in the mask,” you purr as you palm him. “How hot it gets me.”

“Fuck,” his head falls back when you tug him out of his briefs, stroking his thick length to full mast. “Please, baby.”

You inch yourself down his legs so that you’re face to face with his weeping cock. Joel’s eyes widen and his hand comes up to gently stroke your hair appreciatively, tucking a lock of it behind your ear. He looks at you with adoration, and your heart swells in your chest.

“I love you, y’know that?” He says, softly.

You can’t help but get a bit misty-eyed, always a fan of Joel when he gets soft like this. “I love you, too.”

He smiles, and glances down at his dick, maneuvering it so that the head skates across your lips, leaving a trail of precum. His heated eyes find yours again. “Go on and show me then.”

“Yes sir.”

You keep eye contact as you lean forward to give his cock little kitten licks, and his head drops against the pillow with a groan, eyes lidded. “Shit, you can’t be lookin’ at me like that.”

You just smirk, and lick a long stripe up a prominent vein and kiss the tip of his cock sweetly before slowly taking him into your mouth. You take in as much as you can (which isn’t much, he’s pretty fucking big), and your hands find whatever you can’t fit.

You start sucking him in earnest, pressing the flat of your tongue against the ridge of his cock, delighting in the way the hand that had softly petted your hair before is now gripping it tight when you tongue that sensitive spot that always gets him reeling.

“That’s it, honey,” he groans, his hips twitching with tiny little thrusts as he tries to hold himself back. “Just like that.”

You moan against his cock, which has him bucking up reflexively, shoving his dick further into your warm mouth. Your throat spasms around the head of his cock when it hits the back of it, gagging lightly and tears forming at the edges of your eyes.

“Shit, I'm sorry, sweetheart,” he says, wiping the tears from your eyes with his thumb.

You shake your head slightly in reassurance, moaning around his cock again, and he releases a heavy breath, eyes fluttering shut once more as you continue to suck and bob and lick, effectively ruining him.

“Okay, okay, baby,” he says after a little while, lightly tugging on your hair to try and get you to stop. “I’m gonna come if you keep doin’ that.”

You release his cock with an audible pop and send him a pout, “But that’s the whole point.”

He chuckles a bit, sliding the mask off for a second so he can pull you up to kiss you softly, his tongue swiping over your bottom lip. You moan gratefully into his mouth when he tilts his head to deepen it, opening up greedily. As attractive as you find the mask, you certainly do miss being able to kiss him. You sigh happily when he pulls back to mouth at your jaw and throat, sucking and nipping his way down.

“I wanna be in you when I come,” he murmurs against your skin, voice rough and gruff and you don’t think you’ll ever tire of it. “How’s that sound?”

You moan softly when he bites down on your throat, his beard and mustache tickling your skin. “Sounds…sounds good.”

He gives you another kiss before tugging his mask back down over his head, and your skin ignites, pussy fluttering.

Joel laughs. “I can literally see the cogs in your brain turnin’ when I put this on. You really do like it, huh?”

You shrug with a guilty smile. “The heart wants what it wants.”

And what it wants is him. Real bad.

So you drift a hand down to pull your panties to the side and shift your hips to position yourself over him, the head of his cock catching on your entrance. You sink slowly down, his length filling you.

The two of you moan in tandem.

“There we go,” he sighs.

“Mm, so big, Joel…” you whimper, and his dick jumps inside you.

You both just hang there for a moment, suspended in time as you get used to the feeling of each other. You’ve done this so many times, know each others bodies inside and out, yet it’s still a brand new experience every time.

You always have to adjust to his thickness.

You break the spell with an experimental roll of your hips, and Joel’s hands clamp down on your hips with a vice grip.

“Christ—“ he swears. “You’re so good, so good for me.”

He’s filling you so fully, so deeply right now, you’re practically speared on him, and each roll of your hips has your clit brushing against his pelvic bone, amplifying that white hot pressure building inside you.

When you and Joel first started getting intimate together, he was quiet in the bedroom. Probably a bit nervous around you—he was the one that fell first, after all.

But now after years together, he lets it all out.

Grunts and moans leak out of his gritted teeth as you fuck yourself on top of him. He’s dousing you in praises, telling you what a good girl you are. How perfect you are. How lucky he is to call you his wife.

It’s all so very adorable and very sexy and you just love him so fucking much.

Joel plants his feet down behind you, just to get some leverage so he can thrust his hips up into you at a steady pace. Your hands find purchase on his chest, keeping you upright while he fucks you.

His large palm slides around the front of your stomach, pressing down, and you can feel the way his cock moves inside you as he does it.

“You see that, baby?”

You haven’t really looked down, so focused on the way he looks in the mask, how his breaths are coming out heavier and rougher through it. The way he sounds wrecked. But now that he’s asking, you do.

You look down, only to see a slight bulge in your stomach with each thrust of his hips.

A pleasant shudder runs through you. “Oh fuck.”

“Love seein’ the way I fuck you,” he rasps.

You watch his cock disappear and reappear with a slack jaw, eyes glazed as his hands stray to your thighs, squeezing and kneading the flesh.

You’re losing strength in your arms, your nails scraping through his chest hair as you try and remain upright, but the effort of matching his thrusts with your own along with the steady ecstasy filling your marrow is enough to have you collapsing against his chest, boneless.

And now Joel can really take the reins. His big hands grip your ass, holding you still as he pounds into you, your cheek smushing against his pecs with each heavy thrust, your clit rubbing against his sweat-slicked skin.

“F-fuck, Joel. Oh my god—“

“Yeah, yeah,” he grunts. “Atta girl.”

Within moments you’re already there, eyes squeezing shut, brows pulled together in ecstasy as your climax crashes over you in rolling waves. It ebbs and flows within you as you listen to the heated pants modulating through Joel’s mask, watching his eyes gloss over as he chases his own release.

It’s so fucking good. So right. Your husband never fails to give you exactly what you want.

His thrusts grow sloppier as he follows soon behind you, the fluttering walls of your cunt pulling him over faster.

“I’m comin’,” he grits. And then he’s grinding his cock into your pussy, holding you still against him as he paints your insides with thick ropes of cum, releasing a long, drawn out, wrecked moan of your name.

You lay pliant on his chest, practically drooling on him as you both come down and his cock softens inside you, slick and cum running down the inside of your thighs. His heart pounds under your ear, a steady reminder that he’s alive and here and that you, thank fuck, didn’t die earlier today.

“Thanks,” you mumble against his perspirant skin.

He tugs the mask off, his hair sticking to his sweaty temple. “‘Course, darlin’. Though as hot as that was, I dunno about having sex wearin’ that again. I think I was startin’ to get light headed from the lack of air.”

You giggle, “I’m sorry.”

“No, no. I liked it. But now anytime we have to wear them again I’m just gonna be thinkin’ about this. Gonna get a damn hard-on when I’m on patrol.”

You smirk, leaning up to plant a kiss on his lips. He opens up beneath you immediately, moaning softly into your mouth.

“Maybe that was my goal all along,” you mumble, smiling into the kiss.

He pulls back with a quirked brow and crooked grin. “You are into some sick kinds of torture.”

“I mean, if it gets you coming home to me quicker…”

“Oh I’ll be comin’, alright.”

Your face scrunches. “God, you’re sick. Why did I even marry you?”

His eyes melt, one hand squeezing your ass cheek, the other stroking your jaw. “Because you love me.”

That causes tears to well in your eyes again, because despite everything, despite all the fucked up things about this world, you do love him. You’re capable of loving him. And you’re grateful that, even with the terrible way life has treated him, he’s capable of loving you too.

“Yeah, I do,” you say.

He kisses you again, sweet and passionate and filled with all the things he never knows how to say. “I love you, too.”

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