#mouthwashing drabbles

[wandering-pirate]

Imagine game nights after the assault

"Game night?" Daisuke asked.

It was the fourth time this week, and just like the times before, Anya shook her head. She didn’t even bother with an excuse or a teasing jab about how she suspects the intern cheating. Just a small, polite smile, the one she gave him when they first met.

“Maybe next time,” Daisuke mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck as she walked away. His eyes never left her. What happened to the fiery Anya that he knew?

When she’d slam her cards down, her eyes locked in with his, growling like a cornered animal, “One more round, Dai! I’m not losing to you again!” She hated losing, especially to him, and he loved rubbing the wound with salt.

“Face it, Anya, you’re just bad at this,” he grinned, dodging a flying pillow. Now, he couldn’t even tempt her with one game.

He tossed the deck at the corner, what was the point of it without the nurse?

[stoopidpigeonxx]

A quick imagine w/ Captain Curly

Idea from my bae @butuhaventseenmyman ily <333 NSFW MINORS GET OUT

cw: thigh riding, clothed humping, frottage, praise, squIrting !!

Imagine sitting on Captain Curly's lap while he maintains the ship's console. He's got you sat on one of his knees, his hand on your back to steady you. He's unaware of how your aching cunt is pressing directly against the meat of his thighs, unaware of how drenched you are. He's too focused. He doesn't notice when you slowly buck your hips forward, which sends a shock of pleasure down your spine and almost makes you whine aloud. Back and forth your hips go, gliding your pretty pussy up and down. And still, he doesn't notice it. He only notices when you reach down to pull your panties to the side for more sensible friction. Seeing you hump against his leg like a dog makes his cock hard in his pants. Maybe the console can wait. Without a word, his hand shifts down to your ass to help you along, cocky smirk plastered on his handsome face. You're getting loud now, nearing your orgasm as you dig your clit into his clothed thigh. He begins bouncing his knee, making you gasp. You're staining his pants with your slick, but he couldn't care less right now. He's intent on making you feel good. "More... curly.." You manage, voice weak and feeble from just how good you feel. He obliges, bouncing his knee with more force and speed, your loud whimpers music to his ears. As you rut and hump to your climax, he's soothingly stroking your back, pressing kisses to the side of your head, and when you finally come and gush all over his leg, he coos. "There you go, angel, good girl." His voice is like honey as he praises you, letting his knee gradually fall still as you come down from your high. "Let's get you cleaned up, then I'll take care of you, alright?" Yeah. Console can wait.

[acynicalsweetheart]

hai… quick dad curly drabble that no one asked for LOL umm. read cws

content warning: 18+, dead dove do not eat, daddy-daughter incest, daddy kink, faux innocence, etc etc

“Dad...” you whine, lips pulled into a pout as you clutch onto his arms. “Daddy, it hurts.”

“Where does it hurt, baby? You okay?” Curly looks shaken-up, concern plastered all over his face. He smooths his hand comfortingly over your hair. 

You have to look away for a second to hide the way the corners of your lips twitch up.

“Down here,” his gaze follows your hand as it cups your mound through your skirt, “hurts so bad, daddy. Can you kiss it better?”

Dad’s face instantly flushes, a cute cherry blossom shade colouring his cheeks and ears—looking aghast in the most fuckable way possible. 

You were just kidding, unless...

“Baby, I...” his mouth hangs open, speechless. He blinks at you. Once. Twice. “How bad does it hurt?”

“Real bad, daddy.”

Curly runs his hand over his face, like he can’t believe what he’s about to do. “Daddy’s gonna... have a look, okay?” 

“Okay,” you agree, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your grin sneaks itself into your voice.

The couch squeaks when dad gets off of it, hesitant to kneel in front of you. Warm hands find your thighs, trailing up under your skirt before grabbing ahold of your panties, pulling them down ever so slowly. 

Safe to say Curly doesn’t let the string of stickiness stuck to the fabric go unnoticed, “Jesus.”

“What’s wrong, daddy?” You ask oh-so-cluelessly, like something isn’t rising in dad’s pants. Something other than Jesus. 

“Nothing,” his eyes are glued to your pussy, staring as if in a trance, can’t take them off her even when he lifts your skirt up further, “just... hold onto this for me, okay? Gonna kiss it better.”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, holding up your skirt to give him access, watching him intently. Curly slides your legs over his shoulders, looking like he’s trying to not combust all the while. 

It’s hard—actively resisting the urge to just grab dad’s hair and force his head deeper between your thighs right here and now. 

Curly places a soft kiss to your entrance, you make an effort to whimper, keeling like a puppy but out of sheer impatience. “More... hurts really, really bad, daddy.” 

“I know, baby.” He mumbles into your pussy, giving your clit a few earnest pecks before starting to make out with your stickiness. 

Your hips squirm against the couch, cunt fluttering against dad’s mouth for every kiss and every lick. He’s moaning, suctioning his lips to your bud until your head falls back, gasping for air already.

He’s... really good, you’ll give him that. 

It’s not long before your legs tense shut around his head, toes curling and back arching as you cream on daddy’s tongue for the first time. “Daddy!” 

Curly hums, unwrapping your legs from around him, face flushed with a heat you’ve never had the pleasure of seeing before. His curls stick to his damp forehead, lips parted—panting like a dog. “Still hurts?”

“No,” you shake your head, voice breathless ‘cause of how dad nearly knocked the wind out of you with his mouth alone. “All good now, thanks, daddy.”

His fingers tremble in tandem with your legs as he helps you get your panties back on. You think a flash of guilt saddens his expression for a second, but it passes once you blink—a fond smile taking its place. Curly pats you on the head. 

It’s a shame, dad looks like he’s in need of a couple of kisses himself—glossy-eyed and glossy-lipped like that. Too bad this can’t ever turn into something more. 

“Well, I’ll, uh... go and make dinner now, honey.” It’s said sheepishly, averting his gaze and scratching the back of his neck. 

As if nothing had ever happened. 

“Okay, dad,” you stare at his bulge, blinking at it longingly. 

[noirsdoll]

your mouth washing work is so good! what if curly was the one scheming the baby trapping on captain reader, like taking the condom off mid stroke (jimmy is fs the one that pushed him to do it, devil on his shoulder)

thank you so much what?!? i think curly would baby trap because he doesn’t want to lose you while he’s gone… (i didn’t see captain!reader until i was done writing it SORRY)

cw for baby trapping and a sprinkle of manipulation!! also some filthyyy smut and curly breeding kink!!

Piloting the Tulpar is like therapy for Curly. The gentle hum as the ship drifts through space, the dreamy green glow of the controls and diagnostics. He sits back in his chair, watching the blinking screen that displays the Tulpar’s trajectory.

They’re on the ending branch of their cruise, on their way back to Earth. Curly’s only thinking of one thing— you. He’s excited to get back and see your gorgeous face in person again.

Jimmy’s beside him, picking the dirt under his fingernails, tongue poking out of his mouth as he does it with utmost concentration. He’s bouncing his leg like he has somewhere to be.

“I’m thinking of putting a ring on her finger,” Curly says into the silence, “when we get back.”

“Cool.” Jimmy doesn’t look up, but he frowns, wrinkling his nose.

The quiet drags, Curly tips his head back against the seat, sighing in content. He has the whole thing planned out. He’s gonna take you to your favourite restaurant and ask them to bring over the band and play a song you like. He’s even got a whole speech that’s he knows by heart—

“That’s not gonna stop her from cheating on you.”

“What?” Curly turns to look at him.

“Yeah, well, I mean, what do you think she’s doing while she’s waiting for you to come back?” Jimmy snorts. “It’s not like you’re there to fuck her when she wants.”

Curly’s unsure of what to say. He’s never thought about it like that.

“We were gone, what, a little over a year this time?” He reclines with a creak, grinning. “Who even knows if she’ll still be there waiting for you?”

Curly frowns. “What could I do?” Jimmy’s right, what if he comes back to you and you’ve moved on or you’ve grown bored of waiting?

“Knock her up,” Jimmy says, like it’s the most obvious solution.

His eyes widen. “I couldn’t do that— We haven’t even talked about kids yet.”

Jimmy scoffs. “Then don’t talk to her about it. You want the relationship to last, right? This is the best way.”

The way Jimmy talks to him sometimes makes Curly feel like he’s looking at the world through a whole different lens, like Jimmy is expanding his horizons. And Jimmy’s right. You wouldn’t be able to leave with your belly all swollen with his kid.

So Curly does the unthinkable. When Curly gets home and you both have your habitual fucking that is more humping and groping than anything meaningful, he puts his plan into action.

Curly’s lips slot with yours, he kisses you messily. Your nails drag over the broad planes of his back as he lays you down like he has been wanting to do all this time. He thinks he almost cums just from slipping his dick in, the way your pussy clamps down on him is tighter than any hug you’ve pulled him into.

You both stare at each other for a moment, catching your breath, the air is hot and dizzying and there is so much want coursing through both of your systems. And then Curly sets his pace.

It’s sweaty and sloppy, shallow thrusts as he doesn’t want to leave your warm cunt for too long. He holds you down with one big hand spread over your stomach, fucking into you like it’s life or death.

His dick “pretends” to slip out of you, like his fat head could ever miss your cunt— it’s practically muscle memory. As he goes to realign his cock, he slips off the condom, sandwiching it into the pleats of the tousled sheets behind him.

You don’t notice, too busy moaning and whining and drooling into your pillow as Curly’s rhythm turns damn near brutal. God, he’s gonna breed you, he’s gonna fucking breed you. He can’t go back now.

Wet strings of your slick connect his hips to yours as your pussy leaks all over itself. The sounds it’s making are almost pornographic. Curly’s thumb slips on your soaked clit as he makes you cum alongside him. He read somewhere that it helps get you pregnant too.

You’re too fucked out to notice that creampie he just gave you, thick, milky cum dripping out of you. He reaches down with one finger and pushes his cum in deeper. He doesn’t want you wasting a drop.

Maybe this was a net positive, Curly thinks as he cleans you up, peppering kisses along your body and praising you for your hard work— laying there and taking it.

Now you have something to keep yourself company the next time he’s gone.

[luvologyy]

* ੈ✩‧₊˚ — 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠

Jimmy/curly x F reader ˊˎ- (both separate)

CONTAINS: thigh riding - orgasms, squirting, oral fixations, daddy kink, finger sucking, degrading, twisted dynamic (specifically between jimmy and reader, can't write that man nicely) nicknames [bunny, sweetheart, sweet girl, baby]

Drabble, I worked a lil extra for you guys 👀

Reblogs and likes are always appreciated, baby ౨ৎ

Jimmy ★

"Nice and wet already, huh, bunny?" Jimmy says from above you, your pretty cheeks flushing over with warmth as his hands come down to grasp your hips.

The sounds of your whines and moans echoing in the cockpit, Your heart hammering in your chest, your eyelashes batting rapidly, your hands frantically holding onto his shirt. It feels wrong - so, so wrong to be naked atop of him, especially when he's fully dressed. You're so bothered - so embarrassed that you actually look like you're going to cry, your doe-eyes glistening with tears.

"You gonna cry, baby? You gonna cry when you cum all over daddy's pants?" His tone drips with mockery, and he has the audacity to laugh at you when you breathe out shakily, your hands trembling as you grip tighter onto his shirt. "So patheic."

“Please stop,” you whimper as he grinds your hips for you roughly, his uniform pants stimulating your clit shamefully. “It - it feels weird,”

"It feels good and you don't like it," jimmy interrupts plainly, his fingers toying with your lips, letting out a quiet hiss as your mouth instinctively wraps around them to suck. "That's my girl. My little bouncy bunny, bouncing up and down her daddy's thighs. Feel's good, doesn't it?"

Shamefully humming in agreement, you dip your head slightly, your mouth still wrapped around his fingers, sucking carefully. Perhaps it's because there's so much of him that you can't hold back. The folds of his uniform press against you harshly, the fabric stimulating your clit, and you pathetically whine against him.

Jimmy smirks, leaning back slightly to take you all in. He presses his fingers against your tongue, satisfied with just how well you're taking him - how you're grinding against him despite the shame and guilt that comes with it. "Come undone all over my pants, baby. I want the crew to see what a dirty little slut you are."

As you gasp against him, your little hips desperately rutting on his thighs, squirting all over him like you have no shame, he lets out a gentle low groan, You're going to do this all over again until you're an even more crying, weeping mess on his thighs.

Captain curly ᡣ𐭩

Thick thighs; strong thighs. Once weak and small, foreign to the strength needed to work and carry supplies around the tulpar, now tough and powerful. It's hard to drag your eyes away from him as he kneads moisture into his legs to soothe the aching from working.

When you two were in his room, he was already in his pj's. Curly sat on his bed. You watched him roll up his shorts to put lotion on his thighs.

"You starin' at me, sweetheart?" Curlys voice is slightly raspy and calming, his eyes not leaving his lap as he addresses you.

a slight flush of warmth spreads across your cheeks. "No.." you lied, curly chuckles to himself, rubbing the moisturizer into his thighs in hard, circular motions, th

"Why dont you come sit, yeah?" He said, patting his moisturized lap. His thighs glistened with lotion. You fiddled with your fingers nervously, having second thoughts. Glancing at his strong thighs.

"Cmon, I know you wanna, sweetheart."

Curly stares at you, patting his soft thighs. Gesturing you to sit.

Godd his thighs were so strong. Flexing every time he roll his thumbs against a particularly tight knot, and you find yourself dreaming about what you could do with them. How good they could make you feel.

"You okay, sweetheart? Seem to be dozin' off slightly." You snapped back to reality, you nod your head. You walking over to curly and sitting on his lap.

Curlys hand slither into your hair, and you mewl quietly, your nose brushing against one of his thighs. You pepper a soft kiss to it, and he hums. ""Mmm. Sit on my lap for me, sweet girl, that's right - uh-huh, perfect."

It's a strange feeling at first. Curlys thighs are lotioned up, soft and glistening, and you find your body slipping subconsciously down his thighs. Your bottom half is almost bare against him, and you stifle an obnoxious moan as he steadies your hips so you don't slip anymore. The friction feels amazing, and you pout at his steadying, wiggling your hips side by side softly.

You hope he doesn't notice, but curly isn't stupid. He grins to himself as he softly begins to roll your hips up and down, pressing you hard against his thighs. Your arms wrap around him instinctively, your head nuzzling into the crook of his neck, your senses overstimulated with his scent and the feeling of his strong thighs flexing under your cunt.

"Let's see how good I can make you feel, huh, sweet girl?"

A/n: Enjoy kitties 🫶

[yoru-no-seiiki]

“Lie to me, cheat on me, I don’t care. Just do your job and all’s fair.”

— yandere! rent-a-boyfriend x apathetic! reader

tw/cw: no smut, but this account needs a revive so… reader is gender neutral but i hc them as a dommy mommy. more headcannony than a proper story.

You met him after he managed to con one of your friends at work. Posing as this suave, nice guy, who happened to lack the money to support himself. The one time your friend finally put trust in someone else, that was the time it was completely broken. Turned to ash and bones.

You remember the night your friend came to you, eyes red-rimmed and voice trembling as they recounted the whole ordeal. How he’d slipped into their life so seamlessly, with that charming smile and easy laugh, only to hollow them out from the inside. Every word he’d said was carefully crafted, every gesture perfectly calculated to lure them into a false sense of security. And when they finally realized the truth—when the money was gone and so was he—it wasn’t just their savings he’d taken. It was their ability to trust, to hope, to believe in people again.

And so you decided to take him for yourself.

You remember the look of relief, and then recognition before it settled into confusion with the slight hint of derision.

He was perfect.

“If you managed to fool them, then you’ll do a good job fooling my own parents.”

You needed him. He needed you. It was the perfect agreement. His confidence was alluring as it was powerful. The way he turned heads just by being in the room. And the sex? Simply amazing. I mean, if he managed to make your prude of a friend to buckle then it must’ve counted for something.

Sure, the look in their eyes when you brought him to work one day was horrific. But they’ll get over it you think.

After all, you’d made your choice, and you weren’t about to apologize for it. Maybe it was reckless, maybe even cruel, but there was something about him that kept you hooked. The way he carried himself, all charm and sharp edges, like he knew exactly how far he could push before breaking someone. It wasn’t love, not really, but it was magnetic, intoxicating. Besides, your friend would move on eventually—people always did— it was the natural course of things. You told yourself it wasn’t your responsibility to mend what he’d shattered, even if the shame clawed at you every time their gaze lingered, silent and accusing. You shrugged it off.

But then suddenly he began to act nice? You could feel the gradual loss of his impassivity. How he suddenly became interested in what you were doing, saying and most importantly disinterested in the money you gave him.

“Don’t you get it—? I - I can’t believe I’m even saying this myself - but I love you. I fell for you. And I don’t even know why—“

“Stop.” You pinched the bridge of your nose. A puff of moisture blows through the air as seasons passed and winter has arrived. Frustrated that the one thing you had over him was now seen as no longer valuable. But then realized . . . , “You know what? S’long as it makes the job easier for you.”

With the last smoke from your cigar, you press the tip of it to his nose. Ash, skin and snow collide.

You thought it was better for the both of you. He could have the so called love of his life, and you could spend a bit less trying to keep him tied to you as long as he was useful. However, what you needed from him wasn’t just love, it was strength, not this blubbering piece of mess that kept stuttering the moment you two were left alone.

He was turning weak. Pathetic. Something you didn’t need nor want in a partner.

Too bad he knew you too well. He knew that you were going to leave him behind. He knew that he only had moments to waste before all of this would be over.

So on Christmas Eve, he plans it all out. The meal, the lighting, the music.

He did what he always did best—he made those moments count. His words were sharp, like knives carefully aimed to slice through your resolve, each one designed to remind you why you’d stayed this long. He painted pictures of what you’d lose, of how lonely it would be without him, and how no one else could ever understand you the way he did. His smile was bittersweet, a mask for the desperation lurking underneath.

And it ends with a cheer,

all of this so that he could drug you.

And at last, with a kiss to your lips he mouthed, “Happy Holidays.”

[Author’s Note] Reader definitely comes from a Mafia family of sorts.

[pupwashing]

older brother!jimmy x younger sister!reader

warnings: INCEST, NONCON, anal, unprotected sex, blood mention, cigarette burning on skin, lowercase intended

A/N: AT LAST I HAVE TIME TO POST :3 I really liked writing this even though it’s a drabble,, as always I love feedback! comments & rbs are appreciated!

jimmy’s a fucking weirdo.

being his younger sister, you’re the most qualified person to claim this as fact.

ever since you could remember, jimmy’s been the weird kid. the odd one out.

he doesn’t know care about doing things the right way or making people feel uncomfortable, including you.

he’s a terrible older brother, but you didn’t know he was going to get worse.

much, much worse.

jimmy stays in the basement; hasn’t made an effort to move out yet. probably never will.

you prefer him living down in the basement. means you don’t have to see him as much.

when the basement door opens, you think nothing of it. he’s probably coming up for food, like he usually does.

except, he makes a beeline for the living room, where you’re watching some trashy romcom. he hates your taste in films; fake bullshit that uses handsome faces to sell you a pipe dream.

maybe it’s jealousy, or maybe it’s pent up resentment. 

either way, it’s pissed him off, and he’s already having a bad day.

curly keeps trying to drag him everywhere under the sun.

he knows its out of pity, so he declines.

but curly is persistent.

that persistence just adds to his likability. something jimmy lacks, something he craves, deep down.

this anger jimmy feels, all his pent up rage leads him to make a drastic decision.

if he can’t take his frustrations out on the people that cause him, then he can surely use his younger sister as a punching bag.

you should’ve been more aware of your brother’s tendencies. should’ve known he’d snap sooner or later.

you just didn’t realize you’d be the victim when he did.

when you regain consciousness, you realize you aren’t in the living room anymore.

you’re in the basement, on a stained mattress.

attempting to move, you notice that your ankles and wrists are bound with zip-ties.

when you try to speak, you realize that there’s duct tape on your mouth.

you don’t have much time to ponder what’s happened before jimmy comes in.

his appearance is rough; a stained wifebeater and worn black boxers, with a unlit cigarette hanging from his lips.

he looks like shit, just like any other day.

he walks over to the mattress, not uttering a word as he flips you to lie on your stomach.

the cogs are beginning to turn in your head, and you don’t like where this is going.

he positions your body as if you were a mannequin; face down, ass up.

jimmy’s silent as he flicks his lighter on, lighting his cigarette.

he makes quick work of your shorts and panties, ignoring your whimpers of protest.

he kneads at your ass, letting the plump flesh fill his palms. 

he gropes you for a while before you feel it: a warm glob of spit on your asshole, trickling down to your pussy.

when it finally clicks what jimmy plans to do, it’s too late.

his cockhead nudges against your puckered entrance, forcing its way into your formerly virgin hole.

you scream, but the tape muffles it. jimmy doesn’t even flinch.

taking a drag of his cigarette, he exhales the smoke as he begins his thrusts.

he’s fucking you deep. feels like he’s messing with your organs.

jimmy presses a palm on the small of your back, forcing you to arch more as he violates you.

he doesn’t utter a word, nor does he grunt or groan. he just smokes his cigarette as he fucks you.

you don’t know how many hours it’s been, but you know he’s been through ten cigs. its easy to count, because he’s been putting them out on you.

your body aches, you feel like he’s ripped you in two, but he hasn’t stopped.

every snap of his hips has you talking to god, praying that he’d end your suffering, one way or another.

your prayers were interrupted by jimmy putting out his cigarette on your hip, rubbing this thumb over the fresh mark.

you don’t even scream this time. you’re too exhausted to even cry. you have no tears left.

jimmy gets up, the mattress creaking under the loss of his weight.

it’s finally over.

he leaves you on the bed in a crumpled heap, cum and blood creating a grotesque river as it slowly drips out of your abused hole.

but you know this isn’t the end of it.

he’s kept you tied up for a reason, he’s just taking a break.

you close your eyes, hoping that somehow, someway, you’ll get your dignity back, after jimmy stole it from you.

you fucking hate your older brother.

[hiddenhelios]

sub!daisuke x gn!reader tw : nsfw

"p-please.."

he's pressed beneath you, your hands splayed on his chest. warmth radiates from the flesh beneath you, the scent of sweat and sex in the air. 

it’s suffocating. you take your next breath from his lips.

he immediately whines beneath your grip, grinding up into you for friction. you continue to meld your lips together; his eyes half lidded and fluttering between looking at you, and closing his eyes.

you pull away as soon as you realize he’s close. he chases your lips as you sit back, saliva connecting the two of you in this sinful embrace. he watches as a grin spreads across your lips, tempting him for more.

“satisfied?”

it’s clear what the answer is. you can see it in his eyes.

poor puppy.

he’ll have to suffer a bit more before he gets his treat.

[headphonez-anon]

♡ Jimmy, who comforts you about your shitty relationship while being overly touchy with you

♡ Jimmy, who sits you in his lap and kisses your tears away, assuring you that he'd never treat you that way if you were in a relationship with him

♡ Jimmy, who gently manipulates you with his soft words of reassurance, making you feel better about everything that your partner makes you feel insecure about

♡ Jimmy, who lets you stay over at his place whenever you're upset with your partner, sleeping beside you and playing with your hair as you fall asleep

♡ Jimmy, who's overly affectionate with you while your partner is around, purposefully making them jealous.

♡ Jimmy, who starts fights between you and your partner so you can spent nights at his place more frequently.

♡ Jimmy, who buys you expensive matching bracelets, including a heart charm with your initials together

♡ Jimmy, who notices all the little things about you, the little things you wish your partner noticed.

♡ Jimmy, who posts you on all of his socials, knowing your partner can see it

♡ Jimmy, who loves you for you.

[illballet]

mouthwashing headcannons bcs i said so!

tulpar crew with dirty mouth reader. my brain is melting!!! im sorry if this is sucky i cant write today. nsfw unda da cut mdni

curly

just smiles whenever you say something, he's flustered by how bold you are.

if you're around the crew he goes red, like to his ears. he does one of those dad coughs before walking away from embarrasment.

if you two are alone he'll joke around "don't threaten me with a good time sweetheart" , until he's had enough of your teasing and shows you some reality!

he is unleashing all those pent up feelings on you too, dont you see what you've been doing to him?

daisuke

blushes like fool when you even brush hands with him

when you whisper something nasty in his ear?!! hes babbling and giggling while he tries to pull you somewhere private

once you start him up, he's like a wind up toy and just cant stop.

hes got his hands all over you while going on and on about how bad he needs you

he is crumblingggggg , real life #needthat

!the rest of the crew tmrw cause my brain is liquid and i cant watch tv and write!

[asph-phell3]

Goo goo gaa gaa, we're babysitting now

⠀⠀× I'm just gonna write a small drabble/hc ⠀⠀⠀rn, just to feed people LOL

⠀⠀× Earth!AU; everyone's alive :3

⠀⠀× Summery: You and Daisuke become ⠀⠀⠀babysitters, but the kids made you two ⠀⠀⠀remake a true loves kiss!

⠀⠀⠀This is NOT what you had in mind when Daisuke just random asked you if you wanna babysit kids for some quick cash! Now the damn kids wouldn't let go of your leg, as you try to push yourself out and their parents pull them off you, it didn't work. For miraculously small toddlers, they are ridiculously strong!

Before everything happened, it all started with Daisuke wanting some quick cash, I mean everyone wants cash right? So he applied both of you for a small babysitter job— unfortunately for you, you weren't the children type, you can smell the kids either being scared or intimidated. But that was your expectation! You did not think they'd love you so much, even Daisuke feels left out.. seriously, he does

⠀⠀⠀The children forced you two to participate in their little roleplay, with you being the knight in shining armor, and Daisuke being the princess. I dare say he slayed in that dress, with the crown and everything!

⠀⠀⠀Now for the content of the story, A princess was stuck in a tower and then magically transform into a cat because of the witch and the knight needs to find the reversal spell of it— which was actually just a true loves kiss, but you know its a kid's story— now, you don't know that. You did not know you had to kiss your own best friend that you inconspicuously had a crush on for fucks sake! Yes you were ableit nervous, but was that gonna stop your confidence? IN FRONT OF PLEADING KIDS? I don't think so.

⠀⠀⠀Now came the part of the story where the knight and princess' true loves kiss part. Daisuke was actually slightly nervous, but tried to have a confident facade for the toddlers looking at them. He didn't think you would actually kiss him okay, so when he felt your lips so lovingly (and cheekily too) touching his lips was when he lost it. He's a goner, the toddlers were clapping at the "acting", congratulating you, the knight, for saving the princess!

⠀⠀⠀Maybe next time you can do more, just a bit more extreme— and no silly kids looking at you..

⠀⠀× Okay so, this is just a drabble because I'm absolutely a feral bitch for Daisuke. Like HELLO? Anyways, Please and I mean PLEASE request me mouthwashing/twst SHIT, IM BEGGING YOU!!!

[ang3lofdivinity]

Because I’m trying to get back into writing more…

Imagine: Daisuke and you on the Tulpar managing to find time to spend together doing something like.. making food for the crew. No matter what your job is, you’re always willing to help him out with baking whenever needed!

“Dai, can you-“ You immediately freeze, looking over at your boyfriend who has made a rather large mess on the counter. He had dropped the batter out of the mixing bowl somehow, enough for it all to pour out as he holds the messy, metallic bowl and spatula in his hands. His expression? Dumbfounded to say the least

You genuinely cannot contain the giggles that escape your throat upon seeing the scene before you.

“Hey!! This isn’t funny!” He immediately pouts, whipping his head around to face you before looking back down at the bowl, using the spatula to scrap whatever remains are within the bowl and slinging them at you, causing you to laugh even harder - tears falling down your cheeks.

The batter had splattered on your clothes, along with your neck. But hey! At least you got a nice laugh out of it.

Quickly, your hands swiftly grab the nearest thing, which just so happens to be an opened sweetener pack, as you launch it towards him, causing him to squeal like a mouse.

This then, continues. For nearly hours as you laugh and cry about your food fight, throwing ingredients at each other as you can’t find a care in the world for the mess you’re creating. Only caring about your boyfriend’s happiness.

Other food items, utensils (non-harming ones), and bowls were thrown. The bowls and utensils clattered as they fell to the ground, nearly causing you both to fall at certain times as you raced around the dining table in the center, trying to avoid getting hit once more.

There’s honestly nothing that can ruin this-

“What are IDIOTS doing???”

Upon hearing Swansea’s voice, you both instantaneously pause, staring over at the old man standing in the doorway.

Without a second to spare, you quickly rush over to Daisuke, who’s practically trembling under Swansea’s gaze.

“You stupid kids! Why would you waste these products!?” He yells, brows furrowed.

You move in front of Daisuke rather protectively, clearing your throat.

“It was my fault, Mr Swansea. I instigated this, and pressured him to join me in.. what I thought was fun. I’m so sorry. We’ll clean this up right away and salvage all that we can.” You bow your head in respect, lips now pursed.

“Just, don’t do it again..” He huffed as he turned on his heel, now leaving as the door slid shut.

It takes you guys a moment before you start giggling ever so slightly.

Imagine: You are sleeping, and then you suddenly hear your door open in the middle of the night. Surprise, it’s Daisuke! And even when trying to tough it out - he eventually can’t find it within him to go back to sleep without company. So he goes to your room to ask if he can sleep with you because being with you makes him feel better.

You groggily manage to raise yourself enough to sit on your bed, eyes blinking slowly as you try to adjust to your surroundings. Yawning, you finally see who’s opened your door.

Daisuke.

“..Sweetheart, it’s still nighttime. Can whatever you have to say wait until morning?..” Your voice is slightly raspy, but you try your best to sound as kind as you can, giving a small smile to the man in the doorway.

“I um.. sorry- I can go.. I didn’t mean to disturb you..” He fumbles over his words, fidgeting with his fingers as he stumbles backwards a bit. Something.. something seems wrong with his tone, however. Like something’s genuinely going wrong. So, that really gave you a wake-up call.

How could you push away your boyfriend in order to get just a bit more sleep tonight when he seems so distressed??

“Wait!-“ You quickly call out, causing him to stop him from leaving once he showed signs of him beginning to leave. You couldn’t let him leave just like that!

He turns to you, a worried look on his face. As if he’d done something wrong. You’ve seen that look before. He makes the same face whenever Swansea calls out his name all of the sudden, making him stiffen up, worrying that’d done something wrong.

But he hasn’t.

He’s just a young adult, like you.

Just trying to live.

Just. Like. You.

“..Come here.” Your voice is softer, sounding much more normal to how you normally sound - yet it still has that tired tinge to it.

He stares at you for a moment, confused about what’s happening before obliging. He slowly enters, the door sliding closed behind him as he awkwardly stands near the side of the bed where you’re resting. Swiftly, you lift up the covers, moving back a bit before patting the free spot on your bed.

“Come on. We can talk about it in the morning if you’re ready then.”

He almost immediately jumps into your arms upon crawling up into bed with you, wrapping his own around you while burying his face away into your shoulder. One of your hands glides up, finding its way into his hair, tangling with strands of it, stroking his hair, massaging his scalp - doing simple things to try and get him to relax a bit more.

Which works.

He’s out once more, arms wrapped around each other.

Imagine: Giving little gifts to each other with small letters of affirmation written on little post it notes. Even if that small gift is just an article of clothing one of you guys borrowed from the other.

‘You’re doing amazing, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you. Keep the good work up, Dai. :)’

- (_____)

Daisuke reads the note attached to a bag of sweetener with a cheeky grin, clearly pleased with this. I mean, he’s been told he’s useless, that he’s just an idiot - but you see through that. You see the effort, the time it takes. Even if it fails, at least he tried to do it.

Quickly he looks around his room for a moment, trying to find the perfect thing to give you.

When he finds it.

.

Upon arriving back to your room from the medic bay, helping Anya with Curly and a few other errands she needed - you’re greeted with the sight of a hoodie somewhat neatly placed on your bed. You furrow your brows, confused for a moment before you approach your bed, now seeing the post-it-note attached to it.

A small grin slowly graces your lips as you tilt your head at the sight, gently taking it off the hoodie.

‘Know that you matter to me! You’re so incredibly awesome, I don’t know how I got to date with someone so cool >:D’

- Daisuke

As your smile grows larger, you realize 2 essential things:

You’re so thankful to have him.

And

He’s the best boyfriend ever. (Even if a bit silly at times).

You love him.

[delisland]

men n’ their pretty girls/boys ^.^ admirin' you like a prized possession, well— you are their prized possession. The micro expressions u make when you’re talking about things you like, the things that frustrate you, it’s just the little things they notice

all. the. time.

There’s something so beautiful about taking your time to notice the little things about the ones you love.

gojo, kuroo, nanami, sakusa, Izuku midoriya, aizawa, itadori, kageyama, mirio, bakuthot, curley, oh, n' did I say gojo n kuroo 😜😜?

note 🔊 y’all want me ta make a nsfw version of this? I don’t mind at all, it’s prolly jus gonna b based on the feedback on this 🐿️

[acynicalsweetheart]

OKAY UHMM !!!!!!!!!!! HEY ... SOOOO .... I LOEVEEVVEV YOUR FICS SO FUCKING MUCH AND AND ADN ..!!!!!!

uhmhm,,, this is based off of FREQUENT fantasies i have soo,,,

reader who is Curly's biological kid,,, leaving and neglecting the reader for his job, often leaving the reader alone with their "uncle" Jimmy,, Jimmy grooms the reader and eventually just takes advantage of them,, do what you will with this request!! -🎧

hai thank u very much!!! um sorry this is actually terrible LMFAO. really rushed and some parts do not cling together.. anyway imagining this is set in 90s. maybe. just cause. may occur typos it’s 6 am and i’m sleep deprived.. wow 1.9k words should turn into a fic but whatever

content warning: 18+, dead dove do not eat, smut, pseudo-incest, dub-con/coercion, grooming sort of, age gap, etc etc

“Uncle Jimmy,” you’re clinging to his arm like a baby monkey clings onto its mama, rightfully so when he’s leading you through the trailer park that might as well be a family reunion for registered sex offenders—Jimmy included. “When do you think daddy is coming back?”

“Never.” Jimmy says with a cigarette between his lips, ashes falling onto his shirt when he speaks.

“What?!” Your expression screams oh-so-offended, tightening your grip on Jimmy and shaking him a little. Fancy tennis bracelet tugging painfully on his arm hair in the process. Fucking ouch. Leech. “Why?”

You look so out of place. Shame daddy dearest didn’t care enough to take some time off for you. Look like you should be living in his fancy mansion, not hogging up all your time with Uncle Jim who owes exactly everyone more money than he’s worth. Poor trust fund baby you are. 

Don’t you have friends or some shit? 

“Sweetheart,” he shoves you inside his trailer, locking the door behind him and heading straight for the kitchen, “your dad is a fuck-awful pilot. And captain. Prolly crashed into the sun like fucking Amelia Earheart by now.” 

Thank fuck Jim got fired. Capitalist community. Pony Express, that is. Entirely fitting for Curly and his riches. Didn’t even have to climb no damn ladder.

“Oh my God.” You sit down on his couch looking dejected as ever, clutching your head in disbelief. 

Jimmy plops down next to you with a groan ‘cause fuck he is getting old, slings an arm behind you—beer in one hand, cigarette in the other. “Just kidding.”

“Oh.” 

“You want?” He nods to the goodies in his hands, cigarette so close to your arm Jimmy could press it down hard and leave a mark if he wanted to. Its ashes fall onto your white dress without you noticing. 

“Oh.” Man, you’ve seriously gotta get yourself a new vocabulary. Practice your etiquette by saying dear heavens or some Curly-esque bullshit. “I don’t… daddy would kill me.” 

He thinks he hears something. What’s that? A little bee in his ear? Puuussy!

“Yeah, your daddy a million miles away would kill me.” Jimmy takes another drag, blowing out the smoke in your face.  

Waving away the grey cloud, you giggle, “okay, I know it sounds stupid but—“ Jimmy shoves the cigarette between your lips, essentially forcing you to take a hit. “Hey!” And you’re coughs galore. 

Cracking open the beer with his teeth, Jimmy takes a swig whilst watching you gasp for air like you’ve just barely survived drowning. Drinks it like it’s water. Practically is at this point. “You gotta boyfriend?” 

“Ew!” Jimmy can’t tell if you’re saying that to his question or the taste of your first cigarette. “No…” 

“No? Why not?” He gives you a slowmo once-over, gaze middle landing on your tits and obvious bralessness before reaching their final destination at the whorishly short hem of your dress. “You’re… not bad.” 

Could always be thinner. Better. Prettier. 

“I don’t know…” your head hangs lowly, anxiously picking on the fabric of your clothes, “I—I don’t think daddy wants me to…”

“Baby, your dad wants you to get married. Have kids. All that white picket fence bullshit.” He leans over to put the beer on the coffee table that’s a kneecap hazard, cracks one of his vertebrae in the process. “And soon. Or he oughta be real disappointed.” From under his nails, Jimmy flicks away some debris in the form of cigarette ash. Shit’s fucking everywhere.

Been an avid smoker since second grade, it’s a mystery how he ain’t part cigarette yet. Bet if he took a DNA test it would say 52% tobacco. 48% American. 

“You really think so, Uncle Jimmy?” Your voice is about as meek as a mouse. Daddy issues, huh. Must be why you like hanging around Jimmy so much. 

“Yeah.” Adjusting his army cap that he stole from your dad’s truly—‘cause Jim never fell for Vietnam—he conjures up a scheme. “Unless… you could get in some practice.”

“Practice?” 

“At boyfriend and girlfriend stuff.” You perk up at that, glossing over him with this girlish wonder in your eyes. Can practically see how bad you want a Prince Charming. “Yeah. That’d make daddy real proud, wouldn’t it? His little girl, all grown up.”

“O—okay. So how… do I start?” You shift closer to Jimmy, paying extra attention like he’s a guidance counsellor. 

“Stupid.” He flicks your forehead, you flinch. “You’ve got Uncle Jimmy right here, haven’t you?”

“Oh.” Please. What were you expecting? For Jimmy to drag out one of those well-groomed, well-adjusted private school boys that Curly so badly wants you to marry, out of his closet and hand him over to you? “Okay…”

“Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.” He murmurs, takes one more drag of the cigarette. 

You look a little sick. Like you think practicing with Uncle Jimmy’s a fate worse than death. Or maybe it’s the smoke of his dart getting to your head. 

“We’ll start slow. Kissing, hand stuff, maybe I’ll show you how to make good use of that mouth. Can’t tell daddy, though. Got that? You tell him, I’ll find you and kill you. Keep your body wrapped up in my trunk and make use of it.”

Nodding frantically, you agree. “Yes—yes, I got it!” 

“Just kidding,” says Jimmy, who is as serious as a heart attack—as passionate as lovers on their wedding night, about his threats. 

“Yeah… I know.” 

“C’mere.” Pulling you impossibly closer, till your warm smooth legs meet his jagged jeans, he stares you right in the eye. “You ever seen a cock before, baby?”

You look taken aback by his brash question, blinking like your eyes have dried up before replying. “No…” 

“Good.” 

“I mean I—“ whatever it is you’ve got to say, he doesn’t care. 

“Gimme your hand.” Jimmy reaches for your arm, grabbing ahold of your hand to hold it against his crotch. “Feel this?”

“Um…” you wince, trying to feel for his dick to no avail, “no.” At least you’re more honest than Curly. That suck-up would’ve said yes I can feel your dick Jimmy! Oh gosh you’re so big! …If he were a woman, that is. 

“No.” He repeats, waits a moment to see you start sweating bullets in real time. “That’s ‘cause I ain’t hard. Gotta turn me on first, dumbfuck. How’d you expect to please a man if you can’t even make him get it up?”

“I’m sorry! I don’t know how.” 

Oh my God, you’re a fucking baby. Daddy Curly must’ve never given you the birds and the bees talk either. Well, now Uncle Jimmy’s here to patch that up. More like rip off the band-aid of your innocence. Kind of overdue, dontcha think? 

“Kiss me.” 

“Okay…” you hesitate before leaning in, letting your eyes flutter shut and slotting your lips against your Uncle Jimmy’s. 

You suck at it. 

Literally. And figuratively. 

Jimmy kisses you back, gripping the nape of your neck to deepen it. “Mmm, yeah. Real nice and sloppy, that’s it.” He speaks against your lips, licking into your mouth like you’ve got gold hidden somewhere in there. “Suck on that tongue.” 

And you do. Till your spit fucking drips down Jim’s stubble. Gross. 

“Gotta feel me up.” He guides your hand, flattening it and dragging it up and down his length. “Palm me till you feel it rising.” 

You moan into his mouth, probably that little switch in the back of your head turning on. Sending signals to your brain to soak your panties and whatnot. Are you even wearing panties? You look like you wouldn’t. Slut. 

Making quick work of his belt while you go to town on his mouth, Jimmy unzips his jeans and whips his dick out. 

He breaks the kiss, tilting your head down for you since you got a little too excited. Seems like you and his dick’s got something in common at least. “That’s right. Uncle Jimmy’s such a fucking pervert for his little girl, ain’t he? Look at that. His cock’s all hard and tall just for you.”

“Oh, my…” you blink at it. It’s all you ever do. Slowly and stupidly. 

“Go on,” Jimmy guides your hand to wrap around his girth, watching your eyes dart all over the place probably ‘cause you don’t know how to act. Feeling his cock throb and twitch in your palm like that. “Touch me.”

The concept of pleasing a man isn’t entirely lost on you, ‘cause you begin to stroke him up and down. The friction feels like sandpaper but alright. Should’ve told you to spit on it beforehand. No pun intended.

“Harder. What are you so shy for?” He pulls your hand away, soaking it with his own spit before guiding it for you. “I said harder. Faster. Gotta make me cum.”

Your hand starts moving under Jimmy’s, finally getting him somewhere. Not quite close. But somewhere. 

“Fuck, you’re such a whore for Uncle Jimmy, ain’t you?” He lets go of your hand again, reaching over to pluck his cigarette and stick it back into between his lips for another drag. 

Was already feeling the withdrawal symptoms. Creeping up on him like the orgasm he should be having but most likely won’t seeing as you’re not especially good at what you’re doing. First times, huh. 

“Yes…” you say so quietly Jimmy can barely hear you. Saddened almost. Must be aware of how terrible you are at making a man cum. 

“Bet you wish daddy was watching. Oh, he’d be so proud, wouldn’t he?” Jimmy is aware he says the word proud like he’s got something personal against it. Which he, in fact, does. “At how fast you’re learning. Turning into a good slut already.” 

“You think?” Your expression is so earnest. Like you think you’ve finally found your purpose or some shit. 

Learning to suck maybe. Turning into a one-dollar trailer park whore ‘cause that’s all you’re worth with those useless housewife hands you were born with—being Curly’s and all. 

“Hell yeah, I think.” Jimmy tilts his head back, feeling like a woman ‘cause apparently they fake orgasms nowadays. He makes eye contact with a fine fella on his chunky little cable TV. Looks just like Jim if he were a fraction cooler, had more tattoos and funkier hair—a rockstar. Hey, ain’t he that Girls, Girls, Girls fella? “Oh fuck.”

He’s cumming. Loud. Fuck. Embarrassing. 

Balls tightening like they’ve been dipped in ice, Jimmy fucks your hand and groans. Biting down onto the cigarette so hard he tastes fucking ash on his tongue. Throws the shit across the floor with shaky fingers and white knuckles your shoulder for support. 

“What?” You look at his face like that’s where he’d cum from, takes about a minute till you feel him spill down your fingers. “Oh my lord!”

“Shit.” Said shit is everywhere. Thickest whitest load Jimmy’s ever shot in his life. “Well, ‘bout time you put some good use to that mouth, huh?”

“Um…” you look to the side, nose twitching in an what’s most likely an attempt to not grimace. Yeah. Jimmy doesn’t blame you. Not an especially appetizing sight, is it?

“Use your tongue.” He forces your head down till you’re head to head with the head of his dick. Pushing you down far enough to bump the tip of your nose to the tip of Jimmy’s dick. “C’mon, can’t do it on my own. That’s what girls are for.”

You start lapping away like a dog. Not a sweet little kitten but a nasty ol’ dog. Must be why you like hanging around Uncle Jimmy so much. 

“Just lick it aalll up, yeah. Like that.” Your eyes are pricking with tears when he tilts your head up, globs of jizz sticking to the corners of your mouth. “Now swallow.”

[noirsdoll]

post crash curly SEX!!!!!!! he’s in recovery pls he had skin and prosthetics pls.. 😢

i like to pretend like crispy curly doesn't exist LMAO um wanted to do my own spin on this cw for body horror kinda!!

You wanted to throw up the first time you saw him.

You stand there in the doorway of his hospital room, watching the myriad of doctors and nurses fawning around him, calling his skin grafting procedure a "medical miracle", a "scientific revolution."

You don't give a fuck about any of that. He doesn't look like Curly anymore. Or he does, but only like someone sculpted him out of wax, using a blurry polaroid as a reference. It's him, but it's not.

When he turns to you and smiles that same giant beam, one eye real and the other fake, you just stare back. You don't know what to say or do, your mind just completely blanks.

You get closer for a better look, passing your fingers over his shortened hair. The sparkle in his eyes is dimmed like someone's thrown a lampshade over it. The joints in his prosthetic fingers click and whir as he covers your hand with his own. You hold back the emotions clawing up your throat.

You'll get used to it. You will.

The first time you touch him after his surgery, it's out of reluctance and mild curiosity. How will it work with the new prosthetics? Curly can't speak much, his jaw suffered severe trauma— from what, you don't know. It's a slow trudge to get him to string along words.

His skin feels like skin but it clearly isn't. It's too rubbery and cold and you swear you feel it slip against him at times— like he's a taxidermy model with a hide stretched over him.

He only eats blended, soft foods, something about solid food makes him recoil, his pupils shrink to tiny blue pinpricks and he starts to wheeze. Curly's lungs are still mending, but he coughs like a smoker, each breath has the echoes of a held-back choke, making every inhale an uphill battle.

So when you touch him for the first time, it's gentle. You're opening him up to this, just as much as you're getting yourself used to what he's become. It's still Curly, under all those synthetic parts and metal fibers.

His skin stretches into his usual smile, but it looks uncanny in the dim lighting. You grab his cock, one of the few natural parts of him. The skin is leathery and healed over. Curly croaks out a moan, he seems to be enjoying himself. The usual tells that you've grown used to are buried under layers of prosthetics and unhealed trauma.

This is all so new to you, you have to learn his body all over again. Some parts are more sensitive and some have lost feeling entirely. You kiss him, your teeth meet with an awkward click.

A part of you is afraid you'll never find the old him again. You stroke him gingerly, worried that he'll shatter like porcelain. He spills over your fist in watery streaks, buttery eyelashes fluttering shut as he exhales.

Curly's eyes open to look at you, the real windows to his soul. And they're brimming with so much affection that you're willing to give this a shot. It's going to be a long process for him to heal, but you'll stay by his side.

It'll work itself out.

[benbenten]

CALL ME WHEN YOU GET LOST 🌺

DAISUKE and his party anthem, the look of love. (male reader)

cred: ven (@f94164) on X

pre-crash

Daisuke sees you during a crew-wide first aid seminar Anya hosts. You’re sitting off to the side, lips slightly parted in focus, gloves still on from triage. Your presence is quiet, firm, kind in a way that doesn't ask for attention.

You're not flashy. You're not loud. But when you glance at Daisuke after he stumbles over a question about defibrillators, you smile. Not mockingly. Just soft. Understanding. And his heart shreds in his chest.

He starts scheduling reasons to be around the medbay.

Burnt his finger (again)? Needs new gauze.

“Oh, are you on shift?” He always hopes you are.

The one time you help him clean a scraped knee from falling off a ladder, he doesn’t flinch once. He stares at your jawline and can't help but think:

I hope I get hurt more often. No wait. That’s so weird. I mean—maybe just like, papercuts.

Daisuke tries to impress you by knowing Anya's protocols.

“Y’know Anya said restocking the syringes goes by alphabetical—oh! You already did it, cool cool cool cool…”

You always respond gently. You treat him like he's more than the intern. And that becomes the most dangerous kindness in the world.

post crash

The ship goes down. Food runs low. Blood pressure runs high.

You're still doing your best. Stitching up broken noses and treating burns with dwindling supplies. Daisuke sees you working double shifts with Anya, barely sleeping, and he wants to help. Wants to be useful to you.

He starts skipping meals to sneak extras onto your tray. Not that you notice—you think it’s Anya. But he does it. Every time. Even the sugar packs. Especially the sugar packs.

Jimmy corners him. Says he needs to get into the medbay. Says Anya was holding out. Swansea isn't stopping it.

Daisuke doesn’t trust Jimmy. He never has. But you—you’re in that medbay. You’re helping. You’d never let something bad happen, right?

He goes anyway. For you. Crawls through a twisted metal tunnel of heat and blood and glass.

And when he gets there, you're not in the medbay. You're not anywhere.

He finds you later, half-buried under rubble near the auxiliary wing. Your hand still clutches mouthwash. You’d tried to treat yourself, despite the high amount of sugar that Anya warned. To no avail, it didn’t work.

He breaks. Quietly. His hand trembles as he lifts your ID badge from your chest. Slips it into his pocket. It still smells like your soap.

“I should’ve stayed with you. I should’ve crawled faster. I should’ve said ‘you’re pretty.’ Just once.”

By the time Swansea finds him,

Daisuke.. is shredded. Glass. Steam burns. Teeth knocked loose. Still clutching your ID badge like a rosary.

He whispers your name as Swansea raises the axe.

“Tell him I—never mind. I'm pretty sure he knows, anyways.”

Swansea doesn’t know what that means. But he chops downward anyway. It's not mercy. It's obligation.

But in Daisuke's last moment, he imagines you smiling at him again.

Jimmy, after for all that he did, stares at his old jacket, bloodstained and melted. The inside pocket still holds your badge.

No one knows what you meant to him.

But he did.

He really did.