#being Too Much for everything else. where one desperately tries to give himself to them entirely vs the other who opts for restraint

[tinycurlyfry]

Do you think Sakura will get power up ? Yk his fights conclusion against top tiers are so disappointing> his opponents gave up or his friends help him .... They call him plot armor fighter on TikTok 😕

I'm going to be so real with you- no, I don't think Sakura is going to get a power up. At least, not in the way most anime series do it. Not in the way that people engaging with Wind Breaker as a fighting anime are hoping he will. The points in the story where people are training to get stronger are montages, depicted to show how everyone's putting everything into becoming strong enough to protect what's important to them, it's not about leveling up their fighting style or coming up with the one big move that's going to win them their next battle. Wind Breaker's just not that show, and it never has been. Sakura's climatic fights are never actually about him being stronger than the other person. Imma pull out that Kotoha panel from the very beginning, especially since Kotoha and Umemiya are the characters through which the fundamental points of the show are given to us.

So let's talk about Sakura's "disappointing" climatic fights. Yes, Sakura doesn't actually win these. His opponents concede. Why? BECAUSE FIGHTING SAKURA HAS MADE THEM REALIZE SOMETHING ABOUT THEMSELVES THAT CHANGES IN THAT MOMENT, and thus they no longer see a reason to keep fighting Sakura. Let's start with the first one, Togame Jo (🥰💖✨💕✨ Let it be known I LOVE TOGAME'S CHARACTER SO MUCH). Why Togame throws his fight against Sakura is definitely the one that's easier to understand. Togame has been trying to desperately keep Shishitoren together despite the fact that their leader was shattering into pieces for so long. He was feeding the words that would keep people in the group despite Choji's cut-throat new policy of "If you are weak, if you lose a fight, you're out. You're worthless and an obstacle to my dream of being free and having fun." Up until Choji's breaking point, the little guy was Shishitoren's sun. He was this shining bright light that could put a smile on any of the guys' faces and spoke so easily and freely about how they were all in this race together to become stronger and they would be the freest people in the world. Togame didn't want Shishitoren to lose that, to lose that Choji, so he tried to take the fall. He was new to being included into people's social groups, he was never as outgoing or lively as Choji. He could be the bad guy. He was okay with that.

He had to convince himself he was okay with that, and tied (up his hair) himself to that vow that he wouldn't give up on the sun. Going so far as to put tinted glasses on to convince himself that the old Choji was still there..... somewhere. But what happens during his fight with Sakura? Togame realizes what he did was wrong, and things were never going to get better continuing they way they were. He shouldn't have let Choji change who he was, he shouldn't have let Choji change the rules of their race for power and freedom, he shouldn't have just bowed his head in order to stay by Choji's side.

But, if he what he was doing was wrong... If what he was doing was only letting Choji continue to suffer, feeling confused and alone, then... why were doing this stupid tournament fight against Furin? Why would he fight to help Choji have claim over both Shishitoren AND Furin? That wasn't going make Choji happier. And Choji realizing getting Furin didn't change anything would only make his mental state worse too.

Togame's heart wasn't in the fight. He didn't want to do all of this anymore. He was realizing everything they were doing was wrong, and more than anything else he was just. so. tired. Of pretending to be someone he wasn't. Of trying so hard to keep the broken shards who were once his friends together through lies and cruelty. So he throws the match. He lets Sakura land the punch and then says he gives up and can't move anymore. And what was it that made Togame realize all of this?

Sakura's declaration that he would never let others bend or change who he is at the top of his lungs. Of course, Sakura's words come from his past experiences and having people repeatedly tell him he should cover up who he was. That he should be ashamed of things that Sakura couldn't change about himself. But Sakura's words and refusal to waver or falter resonated with Togame. Yes, Umemiya laughed that Sakura thought what he meant by 'have a conversation with your fists' meant Sakura would hear words coming out of his punches. What DID happen during the fight though, was they both exchanged what their beliefs were, and Sakura called Togame the fuck out for lying to himself. That his actions wasn't what he was preaching. He was calling him out for being delusional about what his actions were going to achieve. If Togame wasn't struggling with his inner turmoil and was actually fighting with his whole heart, his whole BEING in the fight, could he have won? YEAH, PROBABLY. Sakura at this point was just some poor freshman kid who has picked fights with guys randomly on the streets for a good portion of his life. But Sakura puts all of who he is in a fight, at this point in the story Sakura fights because he thinks his life depends on it. He truly believes that fighting is the only way he can find anything of worth within himself. It would have been impossible for Togame to fight with that amount of will. And THAT'S why Sakura won.

Now, let's talk about Sakura's fight with Endo. Right off the bat, yes- other characters (including TOGAME HIMSELF) comment on how much Sakura has grown in such little time when they are watching him fight Endo. But listen, you're going to have to trust me when I say I don't think what's really being said here is that Sakura's PHYSICAL STRENGTH is so much greater. Why is Sakura leagues above where he was when he fought with Togame? Because at that point Sakura was still fighting for himself. In his fight against Endo? Sakura isn't fighting for himself. He couldn't give a SHIT about himself (Which- 😭). He's fighting because with every fiber in his being, he desperately wants to protect and keep Furin standing. Everything they've done for him; the kindness and care that they've extended to him. Everything Umemiya's gone through and fought for to make sure that his hometown could be a place where everyone can feel welcomed and laugh and eat in good company; to make sure no one feels like it's them alone against the whole world. Sakura would rather DIE than see that Furin get destroyed.

Just like Togame, Endo isn't necessarily fighting for himself either. He's fighting so Takiishi, the person he loves and worships the ground he walks on, can be happy. The difference here? Takiishi doesn't really give Endo the time of day. Now, I wouldn't go so far as to say Takiishi doesn't care about Endo at all, he calls Endo by his name too at the end of the war, but the fact that he did so STUNNED Endo. Because Endo himself didn't think Takiishi gave two shits about him. But Endo had decided he was okay with that. Convinced himself that that didn't matter. He didn't love Takiishi for being kind or friendly. He thought Takiishi covered in blood and looking beautiful when fighting was hot (and I think there was also a feeling of kinship from Endo in recognizing they both felt so different and couldn't connect with other people in the world)

Endo feels ALONE in his love, even if he's with Takiishi physically. Even if he goes everywhere Takiishi goes and gives the man his whole being. Endo doesn't have a place he feels he belongs because he doesn't think he has been let into Takiishi's world, and that's the only place he wants to be. The Furin of the past too was very likely people who felt alone in the world. So they lashed out, picked fights with everyone, because they had similar frustrations and perspectives to Sakura when he first arrived to Makochi. So why does Endo throw his fight against Sakura? Because Sakura (to Endo's frustration because he was so close to convincing Sakura to leave Furin if it meant he and Takiishi would also leave. Withdrawing all the other fighters in the town wouldn't stop Takiishi from getting that fight with Umemiya at that point) decided, no, he would rather die than leave this little family he's been welcomed into. For whatever reason, everyone else decided Sakura was worthy and deserved to be a part of their family. He would hurt them more by deciding to stop fighting and just agree to leave Furin than he would by losing his fight against Endo. So what change did Sakura make in Endo? Well there was the fact that the way Sakura was fighting reminded Endo of Takiishi. But.... -

So what is so vastly different about Sakura fighting here than all the times Endo has watched Takiishi fight? You can see what it is reflected in Endo's eye in the page above. Why is Sakura fighting different here than when he first showed up and started fighting Endo? Because he realized in talking with Endo that HE is the threat against Furin. Not Takiishi. I think a part of Sakura was stressed about the fact that Takiishi was fighting Umemiya already on the roof. Sakura didn't know that this whole "war" idea, threatening the civilians of Makochi, pulling in so many people to beat down Furin and the town, ALL OF IT wasn't even about a conflict of ideals of what Furin should be. It was because ENDO wanted Takiishi to be able to fight Umemiya. That's it. There was NO REASON TO EVEN INVOLVE ANYONE ELSE. People were getting hurt, LIVES WERE IN DANGER, all because Endo thought it would be fun to go about it this way. Fun to tear apart Umemiya's dream project (also because Endo fucking loathes Umemiya). My point is, Sakura sole attention, sole reason for standing on his two feet is to STOP ENDO. Everything else has faded away into the background for Sakura. It is the OPPOSITE of what Endo feels from Takiishi. Endo has never been on the receiving end of such intense emotion from someone. Hilariously enough? This means technically Sakura's emotions got through to Endo. In a... twisted way, but Endo is a twisted, fucked up guy.

To Endo the only way he was going to win this fight was either killing Sakura or convincing Sakura to come with him and Takiishi. So Endo could keep Sakura with him. But Sakura wasn't going to stop when he couldn't fight anymore. He wasn't going to accept his physical limit, and he wasn't going to leave to come back another day and give Endo another euphoria-inducing fight. Endo is physically stronger than Sakura. If Wind Breaker was just about whoever is physically stronger in a fight winning, then yes, Endo would have won. But Endo didn't want to kill Sakura, because that would probably mean never again feeling someone capable of eventually being his equal in fighting and also directing that level of intense attention on him again.

Endo fell in love with Sakura. It's different than his love for Takiishi, and it's still fucked up and twisted, but ENDO DIDN'T WANT TO KILL SAKURA! And Sakura was either going to take down Endo or die trying. He would have kept fighting Endo until it killed him. But also, thematically, Sakura's resolve (a resolve that is backed by so many people, a resolve that proves he is not alone in the world) was never going to lose to Endo, who felt alone. Who was fighting for something alone.

I don't need Sakura to get a power up and win his fights with his physical strength. The entire point of Sakura in these big fights is to have a conversation with these people. To make a connection with them. Because no one is undeserving of personal connections. It's why even though Sakura (rightfully) thinks Endo is insane, he's still willing to be a friend to Endo. If Endo doesn't have someone who'll eat a meal with him, and he wants to hang out with Sakura? Then yeah, Sakura is going to accept Endo for who he is and sure, visit the guy to grab lunch or something, whatever. Because Sakura is adopting Umemiya's resolve, his perspective, and puts importance in making sure everyone can laugh and have a good meal with good company.

[sukugo]

Metal as hell that the only person implied to be able to satisfy sukuna is the closest thing to his own modern reincarnation

HELL yeah, it's really about finding yourself, finding that person who gets u in a way that no one else does, can. it's about being able to show yourself, truly experience being urself in ur entirety, living to ur entirety, letting go of ur shackles and freeing urself because. it's. you. and you're able to simply be and have that reciprocated. able to finally fill that little hole that gapes in ur chest and is a weight over u, bc it's all so boring boring boring and unfulfilling. but now. there's. finally something that makes every bit of you blaze and feel like it's worth living. you're not alone.

[punkshort]

Anywhere you go, I'll follow

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader

Summary: Din saves you after your home is destroyed, giving you both a chance to finally come clean about your feelings.

Warnings: language, descriptions of death/violence, longing/pining, hurt/comfort, angst, smut (18+ MDNI), fingering, unprotected piv sex, dirty talk, reader wants his baby real bad

WC: 5.9K

---

He knew something was wrong before he even landed.

Naxore was never what one considers a paradise, but the dusty planet never looked as ashen as it did from this distance.

It was small, but it managed to house about one thousand citizens. From his experience, they're good people. They mind their own business and require very little from the galaxy. Most of what they eat and use gets produced right on the planet itself. It's small, ugly, and hardly a blip on the radar. This never stopped the people who live there from loving it with their whole hearts.

When he first arrived all those years ago, ship in desperate need of repair and Din in desperate need of hiding, the citizens welcomed him. They fed him and cleansed his wounds without a second thought. They put their lives and their little planet in danger to keep him safe. And when he left, the doctor who tended to him and gave him a bed said, Keep Naxore a secret.

And he did. But whenever Din had the chance, he would stop by and pay them a visit. He brought goods and wares from other planets, trinkets and toys for the children, and anything else he could think of they might find useful.

He always stayed with the doctor, whose wife passed on before Din had ever arrived, but still had a daughter.

You.

He told himself he was being kind, that the reason for his visits were virtuous, but deep down he knew it was you that kept him coming back. After every visit, he became more and more infatuated. Less and less time would pass before his next trip, just so he could get a glimpse of you, and when he was away, his thoughts were consumed with your laugh, your smile, the way your eyes sparkled when he unveiled to you whatever little gift he brought. He thought of you constantly. He longed for the conversations you would have, all alone, late at night around the fire. He grew hooked on your every word, eager to learn as much about you as possible. You would tell him stories of your mother, of the children at the school where you taught, how worried you were for your father as he aged.

You never once spoke of a partner, and he never asked. It would be considered too forward. Besides, what sort of life could he offer you if he tried to make you his? A bounty hunter, living a life of danger with no real home?

No, you were safer with your father.

Still, he enjoyed his visits. It temporarily satiated his thirst to be near you, to listen to you speak, to watch the way your nimble fingers worked to mend clothes or knead bread.

Din didn't have many pleasures in life, but that was certainly one of them.

So as he began his descent and saw your little planet was barren, his heart sunk. He discovered once he stepped off the Razor Crest that what little trees and foliage you had are burnt to a crisp. Everything is grey, death looms everywhere. Corpses, nearly skeletons now, litter the streets. Buildings collapsed, rubble crunch under his boots, and the entire town is silent, yet he still follows the familiar path to your father's house. He knows what he's going to find, but he can't stop himself.

Sure enough, when your house comes into view, his suspicions are confirmed. The entire building is leveled to the ground. He stumbles a moment, fighting the pain swelling in his chest. Not much is recognizable, but there is a chair that used to be in the sitting room. The same chair you used to sit in while he regaled you with his stories.

He falls to his knees then, and dips his head, fighting the urge to cry. He isn't even sure why he bothers. No one is alive and he still has his helmet on, yet he still blinks back tears.

You were so young and beautiful. You had your whole life ahead of you. You were kind and thoughtful and patient with the children in your class and with your father.

His gloved hand digs angrily into the dirt, fingers curling like he could find some answer for his pain. If he just visited more — if he took you with him, like he always wanted — maybe you would still be alive.

He feels sick. Enraged. His heart splits in his chest and his body folds over, slowly, as if the weight of his agony was trying to bury him.

Just then, there's a noise. It sounds as though someone's walking over the rubble, albeit much softer than he just did. His breath stalls and he scans the area, freezing with his hand on his blaster when he spots the source.

He can hardly believe his eyes. Yet, there you stand. Dirty, ashen, hair a mess and clothes torn. But still, you're there.

He blinks and a tear slips past his defenses. He's convinced at first he must be hallucinating, but then you move again, looking at him like you must be thinking the same. Like he's a mirage.

When you get closer, his hand falls from his waist and he slowly brings himself to his feet. He refuses to tear his eyes away, afraid if he does, you'll disappear.

Finally, you slowly raise your hands to cup your mouth. Your eyes crinkle and streaks of wet trail down your filthy cheeks and you call out his name with a broken sob.

"Din."

He closes the distance in a heartbeat. His arms wrap around you and he feels your body heave, bawling and shaking in his arms. He murmurs your name, tells you you're okay, and promises to take care of you.

You nod and continue to cry. Your fingers grab at him, searching for comfort. They slide over his steel armor, feeble fingers clawing at unwavering metal, and he never before felt so angry. Angry at whoever did this to your planet. Angry at himself, for not doing more. Angry at the promise he kept to remain hidden behind a helmet.

He doesn't ask. He leads you to his ship, slowly. Your shoes aren't as good as his and your body seems weak and malnourished. But when it starts to grow dark and you stumble next to him, he scoops you up in his arms. A squeal of surprise slips past your lips but your arms wrap round his neck, anyway.

"You need rest," he says by way of explaination. "I can carry you the rest of the way. I have food and a warm bed. You'll be strong once again, and you will be safe."

You simply nod and lean your head against his shoulder. He feels your warm breath on his neck through his cowl and he has to resist the urge to strip himself of his armor and press his body to yours the second he gets you safely on the Crest.

He feeds you and gives you fresh clothes. He shows you to the fresher, where you can wash up, and promises to wait just outside the door in case you fall or need help. You don't, but he never once leaves his post. When you emerge, your eyes look sunken and puffy. You're exhausted and he knows there was no use in asking you for details that night. He ushers you to his bunk and you crawl inside, collapsing into his cot with a deep sigh of relief.

"I'm going to get us out of here," he says. You just nod with your eyes closed. "Call out if you need me," he adds before flicking off the light. He gives you one more glance before he ascends to the cockpit. You look comfortable. You look at peace. And you look fucking incredible in his clothes.

He stifles a growl and heads up the ladder.

His priority is to get you to safety. Everything else can wait.

---

"If you never take it off, how can you eat?"

Din's eyes flickered up to you through his visor. It's been two days. You nearly slept for one of them. You look healthier and more like yourself now. The sight made him happy, more relaxed.

"I eat alone," he explains. You're sitting across from him at the small metal table that folds out from the wall. You are halfway through your meal, which is nothing fancy, just some freeze dried rations, but based on the noises you made since the first bite touched your lips, you'd think you're eating fresh tiingilar.

Your eyes drop to the plate in front of him, untouched.

"Oh," you say, recalling from his prior visits when he would retire to his room to eat. You always thought it was due to exhaustion or perhaps he didn't want to hear you prattle on about nonsense like you had a tendency of doing whenever he lingered in your father's sitting room. It was always so hard to read him when his face and body was covered in armor.

"What if I turned my back?" you offer. His head tilts and his fingers thrum against the tabletop.

"I can wait," he assures you, then asks, "Will you tell me what happened?"

Your face falls and you look down sadly at your plate. You push around the food and drag in a shaky breath.

"We were attacked," you say. "It happened at night. They ransacked the town while everyone slept. I remember—"

You choke on your words and he stiffens.

"I remember going to the window when I first heard the shouting. I... they were dragging people from their homes. They took the women and killed the men."

Din stops breathing. His jaw tenses behind his helmet. You sniffle, then continue.

"My father built a small bunker underneath our home when I was a child," you say, wiping a tear from your eye. "He hid me down there and I begged him to join me, but he wouldn't — I begged him, Din."

Tears trickle down your face now. He reaches out a gloved hand to stop you, rests it on top of yours.

He knows it's a long shot, but still he asks, "Do you know who these people were?"

You shake your head somberly, eyes drifting now to his hand. You think it over for a moment before lifting your other hand to place on top of his. Your thumb idly rubs the tough fabric.

"I never found another living soul," you whisper. Din's gaze is still locked on your hands. "I searched for days. I suppose it's fortunate my father was a paranoid man."

"Your father was a careful man," he corrects. You smile but it doesn't reach your eyes. He feels horrible because it's clear your heart is torn in two and filled with guilt, yet he sits across from you, brimming with joy and relief that you managed to survive.

"What will happen now?" you ask, "what will I do?"

He swallows and you must hear it because you tilt your head slightly.

"I can take you anywhere you want to go," he eventually says.

You laugh, but it sounds flat. You keep his hand sandwiched between yours when you say, "I have nowhere to go. I've never even left my planet before. I have no one. Well... except for you."

Your cheeks burn. You give his hand a little squeeze before letting it go and even through his gloves, he instantly misses the heat from your touch.

"Navarro is nice," he says, "I have people there that I trust. People who can help you get back on your feet."

"Oh," you breathe. Then you blink and drop your gaze to your lap, food long forgotten. "Yes, okay. That... okay."

He studies you through his visor. He can tell the idea makes you nervous. You're shifting awkwardly in your seat and anxiously chewing your bottom lip.

Then, he says something foolish. Something reckless and selfish.

"Or, you could stay with me. On the Crest. It's not much of a life, but—"

"Really?" you ask, cutting him off. You peer at him hopefully through your lashes and warmth spreads in his chest at being the object you chose to grace with that look.

"Of course. You're welcome here for as long as you wish. I just ask you listen to me," he tells you sternly. He wants to make sure you understand the seriousness of what he's trying to say, but you're practically bouncing in your seat from excitement. "It can get dangerous, at times. If I tell you to stay on the ship, you need to stay on the ship, no matter how bored you might be, or—"

"I will, I promise," you say before jumping up and rounding the table. He barely has a chance to blink before you throw your arms around him for a hug. It's clunky and awkward with his armor, but you don't seem to mind. You're grinning from ear to ear, the happiest he's seen you look in days. He inhales deeply, breathing in your scent through the filter in his helmet. It makes him dizzy. With his soap and clothes, you smell so good that it leaves him breathless.

"Thank you," you say softly. You pull back slightly to gaze up at him and for one second, he thinks you can actually see him. Your eyes lock on his and you hold it, and it all feels so real that it has his breath catching in his throat. Without thinking, one of his hands lifts to cradle your face. You immediately lean into his touch but your gaze never falters. Nobody has ever looked at him the way you did. It cuts him to the core in a way he never imagined.

The air between you grows too heavy and he can't resist quickly scanning your body. Through his visor, he picks up your heat signature is slightly elevated in your face and chest. And he tries to fight the urge, he really does, but he can't help scanning lower. He clocks the temperature between your legs and his cock stirs when his suspicions are confirmed.

"You said you've never left your planet."

His voice breaks the tension. You blink and nod with a smile before stepping back, creating some breathing room between you.

"You shouldn't hide down here, then. You're missing the entire galaxy. Let me show you the cockpit."

Your eyes flicker nervously to the ladder before slowly nodding.

"O-okay," you reply shakily.

Din frowns and reaches for your hand. "There's nothing to be afraid of. I think you'll like it."

Your shoulders square up. Your chin lifts confidently and he smiles when you say, "I trust you."

He climbs the ladder first, then reaches down to help you up. When you clamber to your feet and look around, your eyes grow wide and your lips part with wonder.

"Oh, my..." you breathe, gaze raking over all the lights and controls before settling on the huge windows. He can see the reflection of the stars in your eyes and he can't tear himself away. As he suspected, all traces of your earlier apprehension vanished. You're hypnotized by the way the bright stars stretch and swirl through hyperspace, completely enraptured.

"This view. It's... beautiful," you whisper, unblinking.

With his attention still fixed on you, he replies, "Yes, it is."

Your eyes dart to him and you try to bite back a shy smile when you realize he wasn't looking at the stars.

"I've never flown before," you tell him, "it's so incredible. I can't believe you can do this all on your own."

"Really? Never?" he asks, and you shake your head. "Then we should celebrate," he adds. Your eyes light up when he spins around to a small cabinet bolted to the wall and pulls out a half filled bottle of liquor. As he pours the dark red liquid into two glasses, he realizes he hasn't stopped smiling since you stepped foot in the cockpit.

"What is this?" you ask when you take the cup he offers you. You sniff it and your nose scrunches up.

"It's Mandalorian wine," he says, "try it, it's good."

You take a tentative sip then look up at him with surprise. "It's sweet."

"I don't have it often, it's hard to come by," he admits. Then his free hand unlatches his helmet and your eyes snap to the place his fingers hook under the edge. He swears he notices excitement flicker across your face for a brief moment before you turn around.

"I won't look," you promise.

He opens his mouth to tell you it was fine, that he was only lifting it a few short inches to take a drink, but he doesn't. He sips from his glass and allows himself to take you in fully without your heated gaze pinning him to the wall. He can just make out your reflection in the windows and you faithfully have your eyes squeezed shut, just in case you catch an accidental glimpse. He sips again and his eyes darken. He can feel his body responding to how obedient you are and it's growing uncomfortable.

He slips his helmet back down and when you hear the telltale hiss of the latch, your eyes open.

"Can I turn around now?"

A muscle flickers in his jaw. Fuck, you're such a good girl.

"Yes," he says, voice rough.

You pick up on his tone. Your face warms as you slowly turn around to face him and its imperceptible, but your thighs squeeze together in his fucking pants. It's a good thing you can't see him because underneath the helmet, he is fighting every urge to pull you into his arms. He's sure it's written all over his face. Maker, he wonders what it would be like to be touched by you, to be held by you, to be kissed by you. It's been so long.

You're nervous again, he notes, but not due to fear this time. Your gaze shifts around the cabin and you swallow thickly before pointing towards the controls.

"W-what do all these do?"

He follows your finger. You're pointing to the control wheel and dials right in front of his chair.

He sets down his mostly empty glass and sits. He begins to half heartedly tell you what certain switches and knobs do, and you nod along, sipping from your glass and leaning into the side of his chair.

You lean forward, across his lap, and squint at one particularly important looking lever.

"What about this?"

His eyes slide closed and he breathes deep. You're so close to him he can feel the warmth from your skin through the slivers of exposed fabric that lies underneath his armor.

"It— it's one of the controls that sends us into hyperspace," he mumbles. You hum curiously and take another sip, draining your glass. Your body still stretches over his lap as you study the control panel and he hopes you don't notice the twitching in his pants.

"One of?" you echo. Then your beautiful eyes find his visor. He swallows harshly, leather creaking over his knuckles.

"Yes," he rasps, "there's — well, there's levels I need to check first and a course needs to —"

He stops speaking when you straighten up and sidestep so that you're wedged between him and the control panel. He watches in a haze when your small hands wrap around the control column, right where his hands normally go to steer the ship.

His gloved fingers dig into the arms of his chair.

His legs straddle yours where you stand. If you sat, you'd be right in his lap. His hands twitch and his heart stutters in his chest. You're so fucking close, he could simply wrap one arm around you—

The ship hits an unexpected rough pocket and it jolts. It's small, nothing he would even wake up for, but you're not used to flying. Your knees give out and you fall back, right into his chest.

His arms circle your waist and you let out a squeak of surprise. Then your hands cover his. Instead of pulling them off your body, you tug them tighter and squirm a little in his lap, as if you're trying to get your bearings and stand, but it's taking just a little too long.

Din murmurs your name and you still.

"Cyar'ika, I'm a patient man. But you're testing me, and I think you enjoy it."

He can't see your face, only your back and shoulders, which tense at his words. There's a long pause as if you're trying to decide your next move and he holds his breath, hoping he didn't read things wrong.

Then, your shoulders drop.

Your fingers loosen around his hands but still remain in place, holding them to your stomach. When you tilt your face to the side and look at him over your shoulder, you give him a sly grin.

"Am I that transparent?"

He doesn't respond right away, but his cock does. It swells underneath you and a soft noise that has him forgetting how to breathe slips past your lips.

"Din—"

He shakes your hands off his so he can pull frantically at his gloves, one at a time. They drop to the floor, then his hands are back on you again. Your eyes flutter shut and you tip your chin up when you feel him — really feel him — for the first time as he explores the skin under your borrowed tunic. It has been so long since he's felt the warmth of another that it makes him weak. Under his helmet, his jaw drops open in wonder. You're breathing heavy, he can feel it, and it's making his vision blur.

He cups your left breast and you whimper before leaning into his hold. Stars, you're so soft and warm and perfect that he never wants to stop touching you.

Your body sags against his chest when he rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Your back presses against his beskar and your head falls backward onto his shoulder with a loud thud. You wince and try to hide it, but he sees it.

"Sit up," he orders. He releases your breast and you whine but you do as you're told and lean forward so he can remove the metal that covers his upper body.

He eases you down so your back rests on his chest once again. Now, the only metal you have to contend with is his helmet and the plates on his thighs. When the back of your head comes to rest on his shoulder, you instantly twist so you can bury your face into the crook of his neck. You inhale deeply, like you're committing his scent to memory, before fumbling for his hand and guiding it down, past your waistline. His fingers dip underneath your pants and he bites back a groan. The fabric is oversized and loose, making it easy for him to find exactly what he's looking for.

"D-Din," you stammer when the pads of his fingers slide through your slit. Your head rolls and your lips part when you lift your hips off his lap, chasing his gentle touch.

You must hear how fast he's breathing. Even though the modulator muffles it, it's so loud it's impossible you don't notice.

"Maker, you're soft. So soft and wet," he murmurs. You preen a little in his lap, hips rolling so his two thick fingers slip through your cunt, spreading your folds and slick with each pass.

When he sinks both fingers past your entrance, your hand flies back, slapping loudly against the side of his helmet.

"Oh!" you cry out, fingers clutching uselessly at the metal. Your back arches off his chest with a wet gasp when he pushes in all the way to the knuckle, then he's shushing you. His distorted voice is trying to quiet you down but, as it turns out, you both want each other so badly that it's an impossible task, even for a Mandalorian.

"Do you know how long I've thought about this?" he asks, watching the way your eyes pinch shut and your jaw trembles each time his fingers drag in and out of you. Your backside writhes in his lap and he has to use his other hand to keep you still, wrapping it around your waist from behind and pressing his palm flat against your stomach.

"No," you shudder. You're coming apart so easily for him, heat blooming in your chest and cheeks the faster his hand moves down your pants — his pants. He's so hard, his stomach hurts.

"Years," he grits. "Each time I left, I dreamt of taking you with me. Dreamt of your perfect mouth, your beautiful eyes, your smile, your laugh—" He curses under his breath when you clench tightly around his fingers. He can't wait to feel you wrapped around his cock, squeezing him so tight and milking him for every last drop of his release.

"You came b-back for m-me," you stammer breathlessly. "Y-you — oh, f-fuck, Din—"

A thin sheen of sweat covers your forehead. You're grinding down on his hand, back bowed and nails digging ruthlessly into his covered arm. You look so sweet, coming apart on his hand, moaning his name, that he wants nothing more than to kiss you, to taste you.

But, he can't.

So, he settles for driving you wild, for curling his fingers deep inside you, grunting in your ear, rubbing his palm against your clit until your lungs are empty and your entire body is pulled tight.

"Pl-please," you beg, "oh, please. Pleaseplea— I'm g-gonna come," you whine. You gasp hotly against his helmet, holding him so close with a hand still clutching at the back of his head that his visor fogs up.

"Come for me," he tells you shakily, even through the modulator. "Come for me and then I'll fuck this sweet little pussy, just the way I've always wanted."

That tips you over the edge. You moan his name so loudly that it echoes in the small room. You thrash your head around on his shoulder, body convulsing in his lap as he pulls every ounce of pleasure he can, and then your teeth find a small patch of exposed skin just above the collar of his shirt, below his ear. He swears when your teeth pinch him and his grip on you tightens, holding you steady until your orgasm slows and you relax in his arms.

He doesn't give you much time to recover. He can't. He's so pent up, it's making him dizzy. Sliding you off his lap, Din reaches down and pulls on his pants, lifting his hips and tugging the fabric down just enough to free his cock. You're still in a daze, slumped against his shoulder, chest heaving. When he tugs you back in place, leaning against his chest and sitting in his lap, he loosens your slacks, letting them pool to the floor.

In his crazed, lust-filled stupor, he manages to realize something through the fog. The position you're in — with your back pressed against his front — maybe...

His hand fumbles around until he finds the button he's looking for and he smacks it, probably louder than is necessary. You jump in his arms when the cabin goes black, the only lights filling the space are from some switches on the console, too dim to create a reflection. But, if you turn your head—

"Keep your eyes closed."

You open your mouth to ask the question, then clamp it shut and quickly obey. He regards you for a moment, just a moment. He trusts you. You wouldn't look.

A hand comes up to unclasp his helmet and it falls to the floor with a loud thud. You jump again but keep your eyes closed.

He says your name, voice clear to your ears for the very first time. You shudder in his arms and your brows pull together, like a blanket of warmth just passed over you. He smiles to himself, then his hand drops to grip his leaking cock. He presses the thick tip between your thighs and you twitch before spreading your legs as far as you can manage.

He can't wait any longer — his hips flex and you moan in unison as he slides inside your warm, perfect cunt. The way you clench around him, the noises you murmur in his ear — it all adds to the heat building at the base of his spine since you stepped foot in the cockpit.

"M-Maker—" he groans, "you feel so good."

Then you start to roll your hips, tight pussy gripping and fluttering around his length as you try to fuck yourself in his lap. Your legs drape over his thighs, feet dangling near his ankles, unable to graze the hard metal floor for support, yet you still try to work faster, just so desperate for him.

His hands grip your hips, helping you move. Your eyes are still squeezed shut but your mouth is open, gasping for air every time he pushes back inside to grind against a spot that makes you whine through your teeth.

"I've wanted you so badly, it hurts," you confess shamelessly. Something about not being able to see him makes you feel bold. "I would follow you anywhere, Din Djarin."

He groans and nips at your earlobe. You feel his chest rumble against your back and you smile. Your hand falls to where you're connected and your fingers spread, gasping when you touch him. He's thick and hard and soaked with your arousal.

"I always knew you must have had a nice cock," you whisper, still feeling emboldened with your eyes closed. "No one carries themselves the way you do without having the goods to back it up."

You cry out when his hips snap roughly against your ass, and your entire body is practically bouncing in his lap. If it weren't for his ironclad grip around your middle, you're sure you'd have fallen out of the chair.

"Keep — talking," he grunts. His wet tongue slides slowly up your neck before his lips pucker and he begins to suck a mark that will take days to disappear.

"I— I —" you stammer. He's fucking you so fast now, it's hard to think, let alone form a sentence. "I used to — to think about you — oh, f-fuck, right there—"

"Think about me?" he repeats, ignoring everything else.

"Yes," you hiss, then your hand reaches back to slide through his hair — it's thick and a little curly and you commit the feeling to memory before it's taken from you.

"I would think about you — wh-when I... when I would touch myself."

Your stomach muscles begin to bear down and your thighs go rigid. You're so fucking close, you can taste it.

"Yeah? You thought about me when you made yourself come? Thought about my cock in this tight pussy, just like this?"

His deep voice in your ear makes you shudder.

You nod with your mouth hanging wide open.

"Oh fuck," you whimper when the tip of his cock finds a sensitive spot deep inside. You writhe and roll your hips, eager to find the angle again, but Din knows. He knows what you need and he wants to be the one to give it to you, so his hands still your movements and he rocks upward. You're both breathless and sweaty, but it doesn't matter because he's there — he's right fucking there, right at the spot where you need him the most.

Your mouth creates a combination of noises and melted words. There's no sense to be made when he's fucking you like this. You push back, deepening the angle. You both moan so loudly, it echos, but you barely register it.

His fingers fall to your clit and he starts to swirl messy circles over the throbbing bud. Three, maybe four passes. That's all it takes.

You throw your head back violently, his name ripping from your throat as you cunt clenches around him, pulsing and squeezing. Your stomach flutters, the released tension rippling across your muscles.

He doesn't stop. His fingers move frantically and he fucks you through it until your body sags and you whimper when swatting weakly at his hand.

"That's it, that's my g-girl," he groans, abandoning your clit. He wraps his arm around you instead, keeping you upright so he can thrust into you as hard as he can. You moan and bite at his neck, his ear, his cheek... any part of him that's normally hidden by his helmet. You feel the stubble under your lips and you lick his skin, reveling in the sharp prickle across your tongue.

"Come inside me," you whisper. He makes a choked sound and shakes his head.

"Can't."

"Please?"

His movements grow erratic. He's losing rhythm.

"No, it's — too risky."

"Would that be so bad? Don't y— don't you wonder what it would — be like?"

You're babbling. You sound insane. You don't care.

"Please stop," he begs, then his teeth sink into your shoulder and he pulls out of you roughly, just in time to shoot hot cum all over your inner thighs. He's groaning your name into your skin and he's panting so heavily, you fear he may pass out.

"I'm not —"

Din swallows and then he drags in a deep breath. With your eyes still closed, you start blindly peppering kisses across his cheek.

"I know," you mumble, "I'm sorry."

Suddenly, his fingers pinch your chin and he tilts your head so his lips press firmly against your own. Your heart stops when you first feel what it's like to kiss him — never in your wildest fantasies did you think you would know what his lips felt like. The trust he must have for you makes you weak and you melt, getting lost in the taste of him when his tongue slides into your mouth.

"I wasn't going to give you my child without kissing you first," he murmurs when he pulls back, but he doesn't go far. His forehead rests against yours and he sighs when your hand lifts to get lost in his messy hair.

"Really?" you whisper in disbelief, but you're smiling like a fool.

"Is that something you really want? With me?" he asks. You don't need to see his face, you can hear the doubt — the shock — that you would pick him out of anyone in the galaxy.

You nod and peck a kiss to his lips. "I'm tired of waiting," you tell him. "We almost lost our chance... I don't want to waste another second with you."

He laughs and you grin when his soft exhale fans across your face.

"I will gladly devote my life to you, if you'll have me," he says.

And yes, it feels fast. But what's the point in waiting when everything you want is right in front of you? You very easily could have died, but you were given a second chance.

And you refuse to squander it.

[sir-heichou-smith]

Johnny thinks you and Ghost only want him for the sex.

He won't tell either of you he's ass over elbows for both his lieutenant and his girlfriend because he doesn't want to make a fool of himself.

No, he can't tell you because he's the idiot who fell in love with the two people he couldn't even dream of having.

No one else has ever made him feel so cared for or special before you two though, and it confuses the hell out of him to the point where he can't help but think he has to leave after every session.

He doesn't want to overstay his welcome, meanwhile you and ghost think he doesn't want to be with you and only wants the sex, which is fine (you'd really prefer that he stayed for aftercare since it is real important to you, you know how Simon could get and it's not easy coming back up on your own from how far he puts you under) but you know something is wrong when he stumbles out of bed and limps to the door after throwing his pants on, mumbling something about having to get going for some thing or another.

One night Simon and Johnny stumble through the door after a few drinks, their hands wandering and teeth clinking out of desperation while you trail after with a hand on each of them.

Clothes are thrown and kisses are traded all the way to the bedroom. You hear Simon utter praises in the Scot's ear, "such a good boy f'me Johnny. Gonna show the mrs how well you can take it for me? Let's give 'er a show."

He shudders in the larger man's embrace, and you think you see something flicker in those baby blues as he kneels to undo Simon's zipper with his teeth.

But you're tipsy like they are and you can only focus on it so much until Simon pulls you in and groans into your mouth, one of his big hands on the back of your head and the other tangled in the mowhawk bobbing up and down on his cock.

That morning you wake up quietly, before either men, and you take the moment to enjoy having both of them in your bed.

Johnny wakes up quiet too, thinking himself a goddamn idiot for giving in to staying the night when he tried so hard not to.

He does his best to untangle his limbs from Simon's meaty arms and your thick, supple thighs. It's so warm and comfortable and everything he's ever wanted and he doesn't ever want to go, but he has to. It doesn't belong to him, you're not his and neither is Simon and he's just in the way.

God he's so fucking stupid for this, all he's doing is making himself hurt more than what he has to. He just can't take what he's given and accept that he'll never have what his heart truly, unrightfully wants.

While you think nothing of it as he slithers down the bed, (assuming he needs the bathroom and he'll come right back into your embrace) Johnny is pulling on his clothes from the night before as quickly and quietly as he can, tears building up under his lash line and threatening to spill over his cheeks. His breaths come in short staccato so he holds it until he can't, breathing out slowly through his nose and in through his mouth.

He needs to leave, can't be here any longer because he's already overstayed his welcome.

Hes not supposed to feel this way, he's just a toy for you and Simon to enhance your guys' relationship. Your beautiful, loving relationship that he's stupid for wanting to get in the middle of because he'd never expect either of you to return his feelings.

He thinks he's in the clear when he looks back and notices Simon's heavy chest still breathing evenly, taking one last glance at his magnificence before turning around for good because he can't put himself through this anymore, he's not enough and he just needs to accept that now before he can never recover from the heartbreak.

"Johnny?" He's hears your low voice come from the cocoon of warmth he craves with ever fiber of his being. Your precious face looks confused and, dare he say it, a little hurt. "Where are you going?"

His heart shatters. "I-I... I'm heading out now. I didnae mean to stay so long. Sorry 'bout that, bon. Nothin' to wake the big guy over."

Before he gets his shirt on he hears you shift. "Johnny wait-"

"No. No, I cannae do this anymore okay?" His chest heaves with what feels like the weight of the world, and the tears start to fall.

"I know my place, and I keep forgetting it when you hold me so close and tell me I'm your good boy. When you kiss me and it feels like nothin else matters anymore. I never wanted to come between you and Si but I overstayed my welcome now and I need to leave so that I can-"

"What are you on about?" Simon blinks his eyes and rolls onto his back, a thick arm behind his head and the other stretched out across the empty space where Johnny just was.

Blue eyes shut and his pretty face scrunches up in pain, but he turns around before he thinks either of you can see. His shirt is hastily pulled over his head and he trips over himself pulling on a shoe from the night before.

He doesn't get to leave after throwing on the second one. A big paw of a hand circles his bicep almost completely.

"Don't think you're goin anywhere now, mate. What's this about?" Tired honey eyes look up in confusion and concern, their owner now sitting up and the thick comforter slides down to meet his naked hips. Baby blues can't help but trace the movement.

Your feet touch the cold floor as you get out of bed and circle around to the Scot. "Johnny when did we ever say we don't want you too?"

His head whips up in confusion and he looks between the two of you. "But.. But you-"

"Baby, take those clothes off and get back in bed." Simon pulls lightly on the arm in his grasp and Johnny can't help but follow.

"From now on it's non-negotiable, you stay here with us and get your aftercare in before you even think of leaving. Not that we ever wanted you to."

Big hands pull at the hem of his shirt and it goes without thinking. You stand behind him and wrap your arms around his naked torso to unfasten his jeans.

"Such a pretty boy, Johnny. You're our pretty boy and we want you just as much. Please dont leave us again." Your words bring tears to his eyes again, these ones accompanied by a bright perfect smile and a small huff of disbelief.

The three of you fall back into bed, smothering Johnny in all the kisses and words of love he never even fathomed could be true.

Limbs and tongues tangled alike, and the morning was spent mostly in bed, the Scot wedged tightly between you and Simon. As if he'd still possibly think of leaving now.

[honestcompassion]

𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓. state of being overly involved in a relationship

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 yandere pure vanilla cookie headcanons

warnings: obsessive and possessive behavior, moral ambiguity, inferiority complex, guilt complex, emotional dependence, guilt tripping, stalking, potentially ooc

A/N: The ribbon has been cut, the store is now open, and here comes our very first customer! I lost the request for this one but they asked for one order of yandere pure vanilla cookie headcanons. I apologize for the mistake this early on, I hope you enjoy this sweet treat!

Pure Vanilla Cookie as a yandere would be as sweet as a soft, fluffy cloud of whipped cream atop a slice of warm pie, light and tender, yet undeniably indulgent. His sweetness is the kind that brings a sense of peace, like the first sip of a perfectly brewed cup of tea on a quiet morning. He'd be so endearing and affectionate that you'll fail to notice just how much he's slowly changing as his love for you grows more and more.

He would dedicate himself entirely to your happiness, attending to every need and want with almost unnatural precision. He notices the tiniest details—your favorite treats, the way you prefer your tea, and even your smallest habits—and adjusts his behavior to cater to them perfectly. However, this attentiveness comes at a price: he begins to believe that no one else could possibly care for you as deeply as he does.

Pure Vanilla Cookie’s adoration for you is boundless, but beneath his gentle exterior lies a storm of conflicting emotions. To him, you are the epitome of perfection—kind, radiant, and far beyond anything he could ever hope to be. The way you carry yourself, the light in your eyes, even the simplest of your actions—they all leave him in awe. He holds you on a pedestal so high that he feels utterly insignificant in comparison.

He tells himself that his feelings are wrong, that someone like him—flawed and unworthy—has no right to desire someone as extraordinary as you. The guilt eats away at him, a gnawing ache in his chest every time he catches himself lingering too long on the thought of you. "How selfish of me," he thinks, "to want someone so pure, so beautiful, for myself."

Yet no matter how hard he tries, he cannot let go. You are his light, his guiding star, the only thing that makes the world seem bearable. He convinces himself that his love is selfless, that all he wants is your happiness. But even that reasoning begins to crumble when he realizes just how dependent he has become on you.

Every time you speak, every time you smile, he feels a pang of inadequacy. He wonders how someone like you could even spare him a glance. He berates himself for his shortcomings, for the things he cannot do, and he becomes obsessed with trying to be better for you. Yet, no matter how much he does, it never feels like enough. "You deserve so much more than I can give," he whispers to himself in the quiet of the night. But even as he thinks this, he cannot bring himself to let you go.

His love for you blurs the lines between right and wrong. He knows it’s wrong to follow you when you don’t know he’s there. He knows it’s wrong to memorize every detail of your life, from the places you visit to the people you speak to. But the thought of not knowing where you are, of not being able to protect you, fills him with such dread that he convinces himself it’s for your own good. The guilt of his actions warring with his desperate need to keep you safe.

Your happiness becomes his only source of joy. If you’re upset, he feels as though the world has lost its color. He tries to fix everything, bending over backward to ensure you’re content, even at the cost of his own well-being. If you’re happy, he feels like he can breathe again. But this dependence is suffocating—not for you, but for him. He begins to tie his entire sense of self-worth to your approval. If you were to reject him, he feels he would shatter completely.

While he is too kind to voice his jealousy, it festers beneath the surface. When others take up your time or attention, he feels a pang of envy so sharp it makes him sick. He tries to rationalize it, telling himself that he has no right to feel this way. But the more it happens, the harder it becomes for him to suppress. He starts to find small ways to keep you close—insisting on helping you with tasks, offering to walk you home, always being there when you need him.

His love drives him to extremes he never thought himself capable of. He follows you from a distance, his heart pounding as he watches over you. He tells himself it’s only to make sure you’re safe, but deep down, he knows it’s more than that. He needs to be near you, to feel connected to you in some way, even if you don’t know he’s there. The guilt eats at him, but he can’t stop. You are his everything, and he’ll do anything to ensure you’re protected.

In the end, Pure Vanilla Cookie’s love is as sweet as it is tragic. His selfless devotion becomes tangled with his selfish need to keep you by his side. He struggles to reconcile his guilt with his desires, walking a thin line between love and obsession. All he knows is that you are his one constant, his one truth, and no matter how much he doubts himself, he will always choose you.

The night was still, the castle shrouded in silence save for the occasional whisper of the wind against the stained-glass windows. You stirred in your bed, the faint feeling of being watched prickling at the edges of your awareness. Slowly, you opened your eyes to find a familiar figure standing at the foot of your bed, bathed in the faint glow of his staff.

"Pure Vanilla?" you murmured, your voice heavy with sleep. "What are you doing here?"

He stepped closer, his beautiful eyes shining with an intensity that made your heart race. His usual gentle smile was there, but something about it seemed… strained, as if it masked something deeper.

"I’m sorry if I startled you, my love," he said softly, his voice carrying the same warmth you knew so well. Yet, the way he said my love felt heavier tonight, almost possessive. "I couldn’t sleep knowing you were here all alone. What if something happened while I wasn’t here to protect you?"

Your brows furrowed. "Pure Vanilla, it’s the middle of the night. I’m safe here, aren’t I?"

He hesitated, his grip tightening slightly around his staff. "Yes, but… I can’t help worrying. The world is unpredictable, and I’ve seen too much to take your safety for granted. You mean everything to me."

The intensity in his words made you sit up, the sleepiness fading from your mind. "You don’t need to worry so much," you reassured him. "I’m fine, really."

But he shook his head, his expression almost pained. "You don’t understand," he murmured, stepping even closer until he was at your bedside. "I can’t bear the thought of losing you. Every moment you’re out of my sight, I feel this… emptiness. This fear that I’m not doing enough."

You felt a chill creep over you. "Pure Vanilla, I appreciate your care, but… you’re scaring me a little."

At your words, his eyes widened, and he dropped to his knees beside your bed, reaching out to take your hands in his. His touch was trembling, desperate. "I’m sorry," he whispered, his voice cracking. "I don’t mean to frighten you. I just… I love you so much, more than words can say. You’re the only light in my life, and I don’t know what I’d do without you. Please, forgive me if I seem overbearing. It’s only because I want to keep you safe."

You hesitated, the raw emotion in his voice tugging at your heart despite the unease creeping up your spine. "I forgive you," you said quietly, trying to steady your voice. "But you have to trust me too. I can take care of myself."

He nodded slowly, though the look in his eyes told you he wasn’t entirely convinced. As he rose to his feet, he lingered for a moment, his gaze softening as he looked at you. "Rest well, my love," he said finally, his voice tender. "I’ll be just outside if you need me."

Something is wrong.

[fairestwriting]

Azul, Ruggie, and Lilia seeing their crush sleeping with a plush that looks like them! (An octopus plush, hyena doll, and a bat!)

𐙚 Azul Ashengrotto

When he tries to think of a sea creature that could make for a good design for a plush toy, octopi definitely aren’t the first to come to mind. It’s not like he’s never seen an octopus plush before. He just can’t bring himself to think they look cute and cuddly enough, they read more like a marketing mistake to him— or that’s what he would want others to believe, at least.

He actually has a bit of a soft spot for plush toys. They’re not much of a thing back home, where fabric usage is restricted only to things that can survive the harshness of the salt water. The plushies he’s seen for sale there aren’t as cute looking as the ones he’s seen on land, he’s firmly decided, then kept it to himself because the thought of having opinions on “children’s toys” at his age feels too embarrassing.

Azul maybe had a passing thought about you owning an octopus plush before, but dismissed it as him being kind of desperate. After all, even landmade octopus plushes aren’t really that cute, are they… you’d probably prefer something that’s easier to hold. And that’s if you even like that kind of stuff at all— He honestly thinks of you so highly sometimes, the idea of you owning plush toys feels unrealistic. Even if that thought itself doesn’t make that much sense.

You maybe had invited him over to study, the day he walks in and sees you with that plush, and it almost made him trip on nothing when he did. ”Ah, I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d be asleep! Would you prefer I come back some other time?” He says in a flustered rush, it’s really a trial for him to get his thoughts back together if you, on top of everything else, ask him to stay. Inside his mind, the scene is crystallized like a crucial memory, and he feels flustered all over again when he comes back to it. If you two did study that day, he didn’t memorize a single word.

𐙚 Ruggie Bucchi

He’s seen little plush hyenas on storefronts back home, there’s been periods where they were trendy in his neighborhood too. Maybe he’s even mended one of the toys before, or purchased one or two to give out as a gift. They’re all far from being high quality, probably even a little wonky looking, he never thought too much about them.

If you ever expressed an interest in plushies, he’s definitely made you a little something as a gift. Maybe a plush keychain, since sewing a doll by hand would require an amount of time he sadly doesn’t have. It may have been a hyena or not, when doing this his first thought is to go for whatever your favorite animal is, and hyenas aren’t exactly the most popular, right? The association of the gift with himself doesn’t really come to mind at first.

Then, one day, he comes over to your dorm room to check up on you — it’s just a thing he likes doing from time to time — and he sees you asleep with the plushie in your arms. Ruggie’s heart melts, it immediately reminds him of home, he can’t resist taking a sneaky picture to keep to himself. “Shishi, I didn’t know you missed me so much while I was busy”, he lovingly teases you when you wake up. He’ll be curious about where you got it, wanting to know more about the “little guy”, as he calls it.

The whole thing makes him feel really proud of himself. He takes a little break to hang out with you and just relax for a moment, so you ”don’t have to feel lonely” when he leaves for his Lounge shift. One day, you come back to your bedroom to find out that a yellow bandana was tied around your doll’s neck, a tiny, embroidered thing made to look like the one Ruggie wears with his dorm uniform.

𐙚 Lilia Vanrouge

There’s no surprises here, because he 100% bought the plushie and gifted it to you himself. You couldn’t possibly beat him to it when he’s so often thinking about how endearing you are doing this or that. He walked by the store, the idea popped up in his mind, and so he executed his plan. It was only a matter of time until he would get to see you being cute with it.

Lilia’s very straightforward about it. “I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be too sad whenever I’m away,” He tells you when he hands over the gift, smiling wide. The plushie has an oddly really specific look, being bigger than what you’d imagine for a bat, with bead eyes that were almost the exact same color as his own. He may or may not have had it slightly altered. He was really a man on a mission with this one.

He already seems to linger around your dorm way too often, straight up inviting himself is a line he won’t cross, but he sure manages to find a lot of excuses to be around. Since giving you the plushie, it gets even more frequent. You hear lots of cheeky excuses, things about how he decided to try out Malleus’ exploration hobby, or supposed dorm vice leader duties that definitely don't exist. And he knows you don’t believe any of it too, he’s just being coy. It’s basically just one of the many ways he flirts with you.

When he shows up, Lilia tiptoes the line between your nightly free time and the moment you go to bed. He knows he could probably just watch you from outside the window, but where’s the fun in that? He wants to actually be allowed to get as close as he can, instead of just staring at a distant image through a glass pan. The night he finally sees it, he can’t stop smiling to himself. How silly, for an old man like him to get so giddy over something so small, he thinks while he giggles. You wake up to a single, slightly cryptic feeling text saying he’s happy you enjoyed his gift so much.

if you like my work you can support me by commissioning me or tipping me on ko-fi ── ᵎᵎ ✦

[justagalwhowrites]

Can't Stay Away - A QZ!Joel Miller Fic

Years after you turned to Joel for help getting out of a bad relationship, he can't seem to stop coming back to you.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

CW: Angst (duh), Joel is a bit of an asshole (that's the point and it makes him even hotter, I fear), mention of past domestic violence (not described), injury from past domestic violence, threat of continued domestic violence. unprotected P in V sex, breeding kink, fantasizing about pregnancy (doesn't actually happen.) Minors DNI 18+ only, no use of Y/N.

Length: 4.1k

A/N: Shared for the Joel Miller Birthday Celebration found on Tumblr here. This is QZ!Joel with Secret Relationship and Breeding Kink. I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist | AO3

“Where the fuck else is there to go?” Tommy asked, shucking his mud-covered boots and leaving them in a pile by the door. 

“Just got business to take care of,” Joel said, voice rough. 

“It’s pourin’ rain, man,” his brother said, dropping his drenched pack to the table as if to make a point. “We didn’t even know we were makin’ it back tonight until fuckin’ tonight. Just stay home.” 

“Wanna get this done,” Joel said, taking his portion of their haul from his pack and piling it on the table. He left just one thing inside the pack. “Probably won’t be back ’til morning.” 

Tommy just pursed his lips, shaking his head a little. 

“Just don’t do anything stupid, Joel.” 

Joel didn’t say anything back. What did he have to say? 

Tommy had every reason to worry about him being stupid. Every reason to believe that Joel was going to do something that would hurt their smuggling operation. Every reason to believe that Joel was going to do something that would hurt himself. 

Which, he supposed, wasn’t particularly far off. 

You were, indeed, something stupid and something that would hurt him. 

You were his biggest indulgence and his biggest risk, the thing that was the largest threat to him here in the Boston QZ. 

Ex-wife of a FEDRA guard, Joel should avoid you. 

His work was dangerous enough as it was, he shouldn’t make it more dangerous by messing around that close to the people who could execute him if they really wanted, especially not with someone they seemed to take pleasure in tormenting.

But he couldn’t seem to stay away from you. 

He couldn’t put his finger on what it was. It wasn’t that he loved you. Not that he’d ever really loved a woman - he’d tried with Sarah’s mom and was sure he’d come up short - but he knew he didn’t have it in him to love anything now. The aching wound of loss took up too much of him, there wasn’t space for anything else.

But he did care. Whether that was because he was attached to you as a person or because you made him come so hard he forgot the world ended for a moment, he didn’t know. 

He supposed the why didn’t matter. He cared. He cared enough that he couldn’t lose you without it adding to that wound, one that had damn near killed him and had seemed to have only grown worse with time. 

That should be enough of a reason to stay away from you. Hadn’t he learned his lesson by now? That giving a shit only led to pain? That if he was going to keep surviving any of this, he had to be far, far away from something like you? 

Still, he made his way through the QZ, the pouring, cold rain fitting the grim environs. Everything here was slightly wrong. It looked something like a city from before but not. It appeared as though things could be normal, somewhere, except they weren’t. It seemed as though Joel had been tailor made for this place, this time. Living some kind of half life where everything was shades of gray, nothing left to live for but - apparently - not able to die. The last gasp of humanity left in him clinging to this world. 

That made you a shade of gray, too, one he wasn’t sure what to do with. 

It had started years earlier, when you were desperate and willing to trade sex for a gun. 

Joel hadn’t taken you up on the offer then, frowning as you watched him with wide, desperate eyes. 

“The hell do you need a gun for?” He’d asked. “If you don’t already got one, hard pressed to see someone like you startin’ in on a business that needed one.” 

“Does it matter?” You asked. “I’ll give you what ever you want, please.” 

“Matters to me,” Joel said. “Not about to arm someone looking to move in on my business.” 

“It’s not for that.” 

“Then you shouldn’t have a problem tellin’ me what it is for,” he replied. 

You looked around, cagey, before lowering your voice further. As though talking about an illegal weapons trade wasn’t enough of a reason to keep quiet. 

“I’m leaving my husband,” you said, those wide, soft eyes watching him so closely. “He’s FEDRA and he’s made it clear that he won’t let me go without a fight. I need to be able to protect myself, please, I can give you ration cards as I earn them, I can… I’ll do anything else you might want, I…” 

“Stop,” Joel cut you off, tears starting at the edges of your eyes. He took his hand gun from its place tucked in the small of his back and passed it to you as discreetly as he could. “There, now you got somethin’. Meet me here tomorrow, same time, I’ll get you more ammo. Know how to use it?” 

“Don’t I just point it and pull the trigger?” You asked, brows raised. 

He just sighed. 

“Think you can keep from usin’ it until tomorrow?” He asked. You nodded quickly. “Good. I’ll show you.” 

“Thank you,” you said, stashing the weapon quickly. “What… what do I owe you?” 

The fear in your voice made his stomach turn.

“Nothin’,” Joel said. “Fine on ration cards at the moment. Don’t trade in the other shit. Tomorrow. Don’t be late.” 

 You just nodded quickly, thanking him with too much earnest hope in your voice for something being spoken to him.

Joel spent the afternoon the next day teaching you how to shoot as best he could inside the QZ. Turns out, the reason you didn’t already know how is that you’d been in Boston during the outbreak. You’d just moved there with your shitbag of a husband a few weeks before it all came crashing down. You’d never really needed to fight, let alone shoot or kill. You never needed a gun. 

Until your husband started hitting you. 

Joel learned quickly exactly why you felt like you needed to be armed. He’d put a hand on your ribs to adjust your stance and you hissed in pain. Joel pulled away quickly, frowning as you tried to hide your pained expression but it didn’t work. 

“You gonna tell me what that was?” He asked, brows raised. You clenched your jaw and stared at the ground. 

“It’s not your business.”

“I’m helpin’ you, your husband is a fucking FEDRA officer, if you’re about to haul off and kill him I should know why,” he said, voice heated. “So tell me, he do that?” 

Your eyes finally met his and he didn’t need to ask again. 

“Lemme see.” 

“Joel…” 

“Show me,” he said, voice sharp. 

You sighed and lifted your sweatshirt, revealing discolored and swollen skin along one side. 

Joel clenched his jaw. 

“It’s gotten worse,” you said quietly. “I can’t keep pretending it’ll be OK if we just get through this, I can’t pretend like he hasn’t been building toward this for years. I need to get out before he kills me.” 

Joel stepped back and you lowered your shirt, your eyes on his. 

“He bigger than you?” He asked. You nodded. “Alright, gonna teach you a few more things, too…” 

He showed you how to protect yourself without a gun and how to end a conflict with one. He hoped you wouldn’t need to use either. After a few days of showing you how to do the things he’d assumed just came with the territory of surviving the end of the world, you went your separate ways. 

But Joel still thought of you, an odd twinge in his chest when he did, something like concern. He wanted you to be OK. He couldn’t put his finger on why that would matter to him but he wanted that, he wanted you to be safe and happy. 

So when he ran into you on the street a few months later, he couldn’t help but ask. And you smiled at him, brighter than he’d ever seen you look, when you told him that you had your own place now, that the gun he’d given you had never been fired. It was hard, but you’d survived. 

The two of you went to the speakeasy and you bought Joel a drink, saying you owed him for helping you get out of your situation. He let you buy the first round. He bought the second. Before too long, he was in your apartment, pulling off your clothes and touching your body without you flinching away from him. 

You became like a drug to him then. Every few nights he found himself outside your door, desperate for the reprieve you and your sex gave him. Some sense of normalcy, the ability to feel something beyond the crushing weight of loss, that brief moment when he was buried inside you and reaching his peak that the rest of the world fell away and he existed on a plane where nothing bad had ever happened to him and he’d never done anything to deserve it. 

He tried to pretend like that release is all it was. But then there were moments where he couldn’t deny that it was more. The time where he passed you on the street and your eyes met his and he wanted to go talk to you, to see why your eyes seemed dark and sad, but there was a FEDRA guard watching you from the corner and he couldn’t risk it, not for either of you. The time he showed up at your door and heard yelling and he pretended to be a neighbor to intervene. All the times he held you as you fell asleep nestled against his skin, soft and beautiful and trusting, all things that should have been driven out of you in the QZ. All things you should never have been with him in the first place. 

He swallowed those moments, tried to not let the fear and panic they sparked inside of him take over. The last time he loved someone, they died. The last time he loved someone, it almost killed him. He couldn’t love you. He couldn’t risk it. 

But here he was, at your door again, anyway.

He tried to stop himself from knocking but all it did was make his hand stutter before he did what he always did: wait for you to let him in. 

“Joel?” You opened the door in an oversized t-shirt and boxers, looking groggy. “You’re back.” 

You threw your arms around his neck and pulled him inside, pressing your body against his, burying your face in the hollow of his throat and he let himself breathe you in, remind himself that you were safe. 

“I was so worried about you,” your voice was muffled in the wet fabric of his shirt. “I heard some things from people at the gate and…” 

“The gate?” He frowned, pulling back from you. “The hell were you doin’ down there?” 

You looked at him, your lower lip going between your teeth, fingers twisting on themselves. 

“What. Were you doin’. At the gate.” 

“I heard something at work,” you said quietly. “About a patrol getting overrun by infected and… I wanted to see if there were signs of other people getting hurt, I’m sorry, I couldn’t just sit here and wait for you and not know…” 

“You can’t do shit like that,” he said roughly. “It ain’t safe, your fuckin’ husband is always looking for a reason to make your life hell, he would have me and Tommy killed if he knew about us, you can’t just…” 

“I know.” 

“Then why’d you do it?” He smacked his hand against the tabletop, making you flinch, hating himself for scaring you even for a moment. “I know you fuckin’ know better!” 

“Because I care about you!” You yelled, your voice thick. “Is that such a crime?” 

Joel crumpled at that, shoulders slouching. 

“That’s…” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That ain’t what this is, honey, you know that.” 

“I know,” you said again, voice soft. “I’m not expecting anything from you, Joel, I know better than that. I just… I’m not just going to pretend that you’re nothing to me. Life is too short for that.” 

His heart thudded against his ribs, so hard it felt like a bruise. 

“I can’t…” 

“I know,” you whispered, reaching up and cupping his cheek. “It’s OK. I know.” 

He should have turned to leave then, he was smart enough to know that. But your hand was soft on his skin, your body was warm next to his, your eyes were welcoming and understanding in a way that nothing else had been since he’d lost the only thing that mattered. 

So he kissed you.

It wasn’t something that was soft and romantic, nothing like what you deserved, nothing like how he would have kissed you if he’d known you before. Instead it was fierce, devouring, harsh enough that he knew his stubble must be scratching your skin and he didn’t care. All he cared about was getting more of you. 

You tugged him back toward your bedroom, Joel stepping out of his boots as he went. He dropped his pack on the floor and tugged your shirt up and over your head, casting it aside. He ran his hands over your bared skin, your flesh pebbled where the cold, wet of his shirt touched you. He pulled that off, too, before he could do anything that hurt you, even for a moment. Christ knew you had enough of that behind you, the look on your face when he’d lost control just a minute before already a scar in his mind, adding to the scars on your skin from your marriage he wished he could go back and stop. 

You undressed each other quickly, desperately, and he all but threw you on the bed once you were naked. He followed you there, shedding the last of his clothes before crawling up your body, his finger tracing your slit to spread you open just enough that he could get his thick, hard cock inside. 

He should be more careful with you, he knew that. But he didn’t have the patience and you’d never, even once, asked him to slow down or be gentle. So he pushed himself inside with one sharp, hard stroke, making you gasp and arch beneath him as he groaned at the feeling of your tight cunt. You whimpered as he stilled deep inside, adjusting to how you held him, fighting to keep from coming too quick because you felt too goddamn good but he couldn’t waste it, not this fast. 

“You’re OK,” he panted, his mouth against your shoulder. “You can take it, baby, know you can, take it so well.” 

He felt you nod against him, your hands trembling as they went to his back, holding him close. 

“Just take it,” he said as he started to fuck into you, caving to his baser instincts and letting himself have you the way you seemed so willing to give yourself to him. “Just take it, honey, just let me… let me…” 

Your hips rolled to meet his, your nails digging into his skin. 

“Feels so good, Joel,” you whined against him. “Fuck, I missed you, you feel, you feel, I…” 

He kissed you, swallowing your babbling before you had a chance to complete your thought. He couldn’t hear what he was afraid was coming, a line he couldn’t bring himself to cross. There was so much he couldn’t give to you, so much that he knew you deserved but was too selfish to give you up so you could find it. 

But fuck, did he wish he could give you that. In another time, another place, another reality entirely, he could. He knew that. In some other world, one where humanity wasn’t gone and his daughter was still breathing, he would give you everything. In that world, he would love you. He would open your car door and share inside jokes and care for you in a way no one else could. In that impossible world, you and him lived in a little house with a garden out front and a spare bedroom where Sarah stayed when she came for a visit because she would be an adult now, with a life of her own instead of forever frozen at 14. In that reality, you were his in every way. His ring was on your finger, his roof over your head, his baby in your womb. He wouldn’t need to hide it then, wouldn’t need to tiptoe around FEDRA, wouldn’t need to be afraid of what loving you might mean. He could fuck you until you were full of him, so full that you carried part of him inside of you for months, your body growing and changing with it and then no one would ever question that you were his, fucking his. 

Your pussy drew tight around him as your fingers wound tight in his hair. Your nipples were hard against his chest, the plush of your breasts pressed to his front as your thighs tightened around his hips. 

He pulled his mouth from yours to kiss and suck his way down your neck to your chest, pressing himself deep inside you and letting himself pretend - just for a moment - that the reality he occupied was one where he could have you, really have you. That the two of you were in a cozy bedroom with furniture he built for you with a room a few doors down that you’d already started looking at cribs and changing tables to fill it with. 

“Gonna come,” you panted, your hips stuttering against him as he pressed inside, forcing the head of his cock against the soft, tender place deep within you. “Fuck, don’t stop, don’t stop, I’m gonna… I… I…” 

He was so close to his peak that he almost wanted you to say it. He wanted you to say it while he came deep inside you, leaving himself there so it could take, so he could watch you grow his child and take care of you through it, so he could take care of both of you after. Claim you so thoroughly that when you were in the QZ there was no question that you were his, not with his baby inside you and his arm around your shoulders. 

He wanted it. He wanted it so bad that, in that moment with his cock buried inside you as you keened below him, he didn’t care if it fucking killed him. 

Joel came apart when you did, the fluttering of your tight little hole sending him over the edge, the high of nothing else in the world mattering outside of you and the hot clutch of your body swallowing him whole for one glorious moment. 

But, as always happened, he came back down to earth, still held in the cradle of your hips, still breathing the scent of your skin, still lost in the wasteland that was once the world. 

He didn’t kiss you as he pulled out of you, collapsing on the bed next to you, closing his eyes for a moment to keep from looking at you too long. 

“You gotta be more careful,” he said after a moment. 

You were silent long enough that he looked over at you, finding you on your side facing him but staring down at the mattress. 

“I know,” you said eventually. 

“I’m not trying to be an asshole,” he said, his voice gentle. Or as gentle as he seemed to be able to make it now, anyway. “But you know what happened the last time he thought you were seein’ someone. If killing him would fix it, I would, but I can’t kill every fucking FEDRA guard who’d take it out on you and I’m not gonna be the reason you get hurt.” 

“I know,” you said again, looking at him this time. “But I… I just…” 

“I know,” he said it this time, his stomach twisting. 

You just nodded. 

“You deserve better,” he said eventually. “Shouldn’t let me treat you the way I do.” 

“I don’t mind.” 

“You should,” he snapped and then sighed, staring at the ceiling again. “Sorry for scarin’ you before. When I hit the table. I… I would never…” 

“I know,” you said, more confidently then. He looked back to you, frowning. “I’m not afraid of you, Joel. I know better about that, too.” 

He was silent again, going back to staring at your water-stained ceiling. 

“Should probably take a break,” he said eventually. “Not see each other for a bit.” 

“It wouldn’t change anything,” you said quietly. He frowned, watching you again. “I know myself. I know how I feel. It’s OK. I don’t expect anything from you. Not even this.” 

His eyes searched yours and he let himself try to reach some other version of him on some other plane, one where things were safe and he was in the bed you shared with him in the home you made together. A version where he could be honest with you and it wouldn’t destroy him. 

“I’d give you more if I could,” he said instead. 

You smiled ever so slightly, a gentle curve to your lips. 

“I know,” you said softly. “Believe it or not, I know you, too, Joel.” 

He let himself look at you for a moment, let that terrifying wound at the center of him hurt where he could really feel it, to feel the horror of what letting himself love you would be. 

“It’s OK,” you whispered as you reached out and brushed his curls back, your fingertip grazing the scar at his temple. “I’ll just love you, anyway.” 

He stayed in your bed that night, lying awake as you slept against him, ignoring the scream of panic at the core of him to run while he still could. He knew it couldn’t last. He knew he couldn’t rest like this, not with you this close, not in this awful place with that awful hurt. But he couldn’t leave you either. Not like this. 

“Oh,” he said the next morning when it was still dark so he could slip back to his own apartment before some FEDRA prick was awake to see him leaving your place. “Almost forgot.” 

He pulled a scarf from his pack, the one thing he hadn’t left at home after this run. It was thick, the knit heavy, a color that made your eyes shine. Not that he had pictured you wearing it with those eyes of yours when he’d picked it up. He held it out to you and you frowned, confused, as you took it. 

“Winter is around the corner and you were cold all the time last year,” he said gruffly. “Don’t want you freezin’ to death.” 

You smiled a little, running your fingers over the pattern knit into the yarn. 

“Thank you,” you said, holding it to your chest and looking back to him. “I really needed this, Joel.” 

He just grunted, pulling his pack on and heading for the door. 

“I’m gonna stay away from you for a while,” he said, trying to ignore the pain in his chest at that. “Don’t want anyone catching on.” 

“OK,” you said, eyes searching his before you stepped close to him and slowly, cautiously, pressed your soft, warm lips to his own. “Take care of yourself for me, OK?” 

You said it like you would say I love you. 

“You, too,” he said. He wondered if it sounded the same to you, too. 

 Staying away from you took work. He wanted to see you, be next to you, get lost in you. But he knew where that would lead and he couldn’t let it, not now, not like this. 

So he stayed away for weeks. He stayed away until the first snowfall of the season in Boston and he made an excuse to go stand outside your job. He couldn’t help it. He needed to make sure you were warm and safe so he stood there and watched you leave, his scarf around your neck, You caught his eye with a small smile as you passed a FEDRA guard and he knew, with sinking certainty, he’d be back at your door that night. 

He just couldn’t seem to stay away from you. 

[callme-holly]

hi! i hope you are doing well! <3

can i plz get a dallas winston fic where dallas is being really sweet (like teeth rotting sweet) and he takes her out shopping and such and the day ends with them cuddling in bed <3

𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 [𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

a/n: I LOVE THIS STOP IT

The day has been nothing short of wonderful, a good end to the week, a good way to wind down and forget about everything for a few hours. You’d never expected Dallas to agree to the idea, not in a million years, but when he’d agreed to take you shopping, to carry your bags despite his grumbling, something inside of you had melted. He'd tried to pretend like he hated the day, that every single second of his was a drag and nothing short of torture, but you hadn't missed the occasional smile he let slip, the gentle look in his eyes as he watched you throw garments of clothing into the basket, practically skipping to the changing rooms. He'd enjoyed himself; you know that much.

And now he was reclined back against your headboard, watching with an amused smile as you showed him every single thing you'd bought, giving him a fashion show even though he'd been there for every single purchase. He didn't argue, didn't ignore you or turn you away, just let you do your thing.

"What do you think?" you asked, turning to face him suddenly, arms outstretched. His eyes roamed over your figure, taking in the way your new dress hugged your curves, the colour complementing you perfectly; you looked like something straight out of a magazine, and he loved it.

"Give us a spin, angel..." he drawled, motioning for you to turn; you did so, the skirt swirling around you in a way that had his heart stuttering and his breath hitching. He let out a groan, running a hand through his hair, nodding in appreciation as you slowed to a stop, grinning despite yourself.

"Is that a yes?" 

"Of course it is, darling." 

You stepped towards him, letting his hands take purchase on your hips, his thumb rough against the delicate lace as he traced idly patterns against it. The look in his eyes was something akin to the way a starved man would eye a meal, desperate for more.

Your fingers card through his hair, gripping at the strands in a teasing manner that you knew all too well would rile him up, and judging from the way his expression darkened, his jaw tensing, you were right.

 He pulled you close against his body, kissing you hungrily in a bid to get your attention, tongue flicking across your bottom lip, demanding entrance. Your arms snaked around his neck, letting yourself fall into his lap, the fabric of your dress flowing out like waves around the two of you.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, simply trading heated, passionate kisses, both of you too wrapped up in one another to care about anything else. It wasn't until you were forced back to breathe that a small laugh escaped you; you let your head fall to the crook of his neck, loving the way his scent, all leather and smoke, seemed to wrap around you. 

"What's so funny?" He huffed, resting his chin atop your head, leaning back and pulling you with him so that you were settled comfortably on his chest. 

You shook your head, looking up at him through your lashes, cheeks tinted pink, lips swollen and red. “Just you…” You mumbled, cupping his jaw. “You’re so desperate…” 

“Desperate?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Please, doll. Any man would be desperate if they were in my position.” 

Butterflies erupted in your stomach, fluttering wildly and causing your heart to race. Something about the way he said it, the way his voice was gruff and a few octaves lower than usual, made you feel almost giddy with want. 

“Don’t tease, Dal.” You sighed happily, nuzzling into his neck like a cat begging for attention. 

Dallas huffed a laugh, the sound rumbling in his chest and you let out a quiet whine in response, shifting in his lap to get more comfortable.  The only sounds you could hear for a while were his heartbeat and the soft, pleasant rumble of his voice, which you couldn’t seem to bring yourself to pull away from just yet, feeling too relaxed and comforted to move. 

"This colour looks so good on you, you know that?" He pulls away, brushing a strand of hair back from your face, his brows raised. "If this is how shopping with you ended, I might take you up on the offer more often..." 

He laughed when you swatted at his chest, capturing your hand in his larger, rougher one, his scarred fingers lacing with yours. The cool metal from his rings pressed into your skin, making goosebumps prickle along your arms. 

"You better watch yourself, lover boy." You warned him, but he knew just what he was doing, just how easily he could make you melt without even trying.

"I'm ain’t doin’ wrong, baby. Just admiring my girl."  He grinned, bringing your hand to his mouth. He placed a feather-light kiss along your knuckles before releasing your hand. He pressed his forehead against yours, and you braced yourself for another cocky, playful comment. However, you paused when you noticed the gentle look in his eye, the way his whole expression softened.

"You look perfect. Seriously." 

He kissed you gently, slow and deliberate, and you let him because you weren't quite sure how to respond to something like that. So you just  sat, allowing yourself to sink deeper into this warmth, sinking further into his lap, his chest rising and falling beneath you. You let your fingers trace patterns into his shoulders as he peppered your face with kisses, humming contentedly against your lips, and for the first time Dallas Winston was quiet, silenced by the pure perfection of the girl in his lap. 

[ladydostoevsky]

Idk of request are still opens, but if no you can just ignore this haha.

Sooo can you do an escenario of hua cheng x male!reader x xie lian where the reader was the best friend of xie lian before xian le fell and like with the power of character backstory they knew hua cheng aswell.

That was like the context, but my request is like:

After the 800 years of previous events, xie lian, hua cheng and the reader meet again at the banyue arc(with xie lian meeting hua cheng fisrt ofc) and when they saw the reader (who ill suppose died by saving xie lian from something and u know, ✨️drama✨️) they can't belive it cus his soul should have been banished and welp. After the end of the thing (timeskip) when the reader tries to leave after helping em' with the mission, both xie lian and hua chen stop him from doing so. But why did M/N tried to leave as fast as possible? Hoho, well let's say he accidentaly inhaled a flowers scent wich had an strong afrodasic and didn't want to make a fool of himself in front of his dearest friends and tried to leave (failling miserably) and we all know both of our bois are so fricking touch starved at this point and here is where the smut makes it's presentation. (idk much about that so u can just wite it however you'd like, but reader should be the bottom oh yes hahah)

ik its a large request so if its too much just ignore me haha 😭.

A tender touch🌺

Xie Lian & Hua Cheng x m!reader

Warnings: nsfw, 18+, novel and donghua spoilers, little bit violence, breeding, m!sex

A/N: I’m not the best when it comes to smut, especially when it’s threesome so warning, this is really cringe🥲 but I hope you like it

The floor of the temple was icy, freezing, just like the atmosphere which surrounded them. Fear seeped through y/n, who was kneeling on the cold ground, before the altar of a temple on which Xie Lian was chained on. He didn’t know if he was more afraid of the creature, the monster with white half crying-smiling mask or this thing hurting Xie Lian - his prince, his best friend, his beloved. The latter. In his hand, was the little ghostfire who tried to keep them out of the temple and warn them. y/n felt pity for it.

He bowed down, his forehead touching the ground. ‘’Please. I beg you. Take me. Have mercy on His Highness. Whatever you plan to do, please take me instead of him.’’ y/n straightened himself a little and looked with teary eyes towards the white clothed creature, pleading, ‘’I beg you… punish me for whatever he has done,’’ he whispered desperately. ‘’Y/N! STOP IT! I FORBID YOU TO SAY ANOTHER WORD. YOU WILL NOT SACRIFICE YOURSELF FOR ME!’’ Xie Lian screamed. The creature laughed out loud, slowly moving towards yn, like a predator. ‘’DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH HIM, YOU FUCKER. LEAVE HIM OUT OF THIS.’’ The Crown Prince screamed but to no avail, the creature ignored him. y/n gulped as he got closer. ‘’My my, are you a brave one,’’ he stopped right in front of him and crouched down to be on the same eye level, the little ghost still in his hand, ‘’and so stupid. Willing to give your life for someone else's sins and choices.’’

y/n eyes widened slightly after the realization. He whispered to the mask in front of him, ‘’kill me instead then.’’ The little fire started to glow even more, little sounds coming from it. ‘’Oh I will. Let’s see what face His Highness will make after it.’’ The next second Fang Xin pierced through y/n.

y/n looked at the ground, in shame and sadness. He didn’t dare to look His Highness in the eyes, or even San Lang, who he knew was actually Hua Cheng. ‘’I don’t understand…how?’’ The Crown Prince was in shock, in disbelief. Xie Lian saw his best friend being killed in front of his eyes by White No-Face. Same as Xie Lian, Hua Cheng felt some kind of betrayal and hurt, he - being a little pitiful and weak ghostfire - also was in that temple and saw everything. If he really somehow survived, why didn’t he come looking for His Highness? It has been 800 years…

‘’Tell me, how are you here? What happened to you?’’ Xie Lian asked, his earlier shock turning into a sadness. y/n looked at San Lang then Xie Lian. ‘’Did you really think he would have let me die? That easily? My life was worse than hell, a constant torture after that night.’’ He looked away from them, towards the darkness of the cave. All hidden and locked up memories coming back to him. ‘’He did that only to torment and manipulate you. And me.’’ Xie Lian let out a sight he realized he was holding. Hua Cheng’s eyes were full of sorrow. They looked at each other then back to y/n.

He looked at Xie Lian, ‘’I’m sorry, Your Highness. After that, I didn’t dare to show my face anymore. Not like the monster would have let me. I was afraid. I hated myself for I couldn’t save you in the end. I blame myself till this day. You had to go through so much because I was too weak to protect you.’’ Hua Cheng’s dead heart warmed in that moment. After all, he felt the exact same way. He blamed himself for not protecting the two when they needed it the most. But he is here now, and he will protect them for eternity, from now on.

‘’Can you forgive me, Your Highness? I understand if you don’t want to or-’’ Xie Lian gave a sad smile and moved closer to y/n. ‘’There is nothing to forgive. You did nothing wrong. It was never your fault, it was White No-Face who did this. I just wish you hadn't been there. I’m sorry you had to go through this, because of me.’’ The prince leaned closer and hugged his former friend. It took the man by surprise but gladly accepted it. The warmth of his best friend being so foreign to him. He locked eyes with San Lang who looked at him with sadness. y/n gave him a sweet smile of reassurance, for which the Ghost King smiled back.

After that the three stuck together the whole mission. y/n and San Lang got to know each other more, surprisingly they clicked immediately. Hua Cheng and Xie Lian still didn’t know how y/n survived that night. He wasn’t a god, neither a ghost so what was he? But they understood that it was not their business if y/n didn’t want to tell them.

Currently, everyone was looking for the Banyue Fern to use as an antidote for the scorpion-tailed snake’s venom. Unfortunately, y/n had strayed too far from the others. He realized it when he found flowers that shouldn’t be growing in a desert. They were bright, colorful and smelled so nicely. They were tempting. They were so very familiar…

NO! The land of the tender! They were the tender flowers that contained strong aphrodisiacs. The moment he realized he backed off. Thank the heavens that these flowers didn’t speak or he would have surely done something he couldn’t even imagine. He ran back to the others, hoping that the aphrodisiac didn’t make it to his system.

After all the hell was over and the mission completed, Earth Master Ming Yi and Wind Master Shi Qingxuan came to take Pei Xiu back to heaven realm. The gods exchanged a few words. Beside Hua Cheng, y/n felt ill. His body temperature had risen after the tender flowers. He was sweating and his knees felt weak. He holds one hand in front of his lower face to hide his reddened face and to seal his mouth. Hua Cheng turned to him, concerned, ‘’y/n? Is everything alright? You seem… sick.’’ Only thing he could do was nod his head and turn away from him.

With every passing second he could feel more sweat forming on his skin, he wanted to let out sounds he thought he could never form. He felt a painful pulsing between his legs. Seeing Xie Lian and Hua Cheng next to him didn’t help, it made it all worse. Slowly, he started to back off but Hua Cheng grabbed his forearm before he could escape. Xie Lian walked over to them. ‘’y/n, what’s wrong?’’ He walked to him and put his palm on his forehead to feel his temperature. ‘’You are burning! You must have a fewer.’’ Feeling his prince’s touch he put his hand over his mouth even harder. He let out weird noises that neither of the two understood. y/n shook his head. ‘’Gege, we have to get him somewhere else. I don’t think it’s sickness.’’

The two brought y/n to an old empty house of Banyue. They put him on the floor, making him sit against a wall. Only sound that was heard was y/n’s constant breathing. With shaky hands he tried to open his robe. ‘’Y-you two… you h-have to leave.’’ Xie Lian was first to react. He crouched down in front of him, ‘’we will not. Tell us what happened?’’

He helped y/n and tore the robe’s front open so he could get some cold air. His fingers brushed against y/n’s hot skin which made him let out a little whine. Xie Lian’s breath stuck, but he didn’t back off. ‘’T-the flowers, t-tender…’’ the arousal he felt made it hard to talk. San Lang came next to Xie Lian and put his hand on y/n’s chest, feeling his fast heartbeat. y/n wrapped his fingers around San Lang’s wrist, not wanting him to pull away.

‘’That’s what I thought,’’ Hua Cheng whispered, mostly to himself. ‘’Please…’’ y/n’s other hand made it to his hard erection. His hand was quickly replaced with Xie Lian’s, ‘’you helped us today so well, it’s only fair if we help you now.’’ The prince and the Ghost King gave a knowing smile to each other. Hua Cheng tore the whole robe to shreds, freeing the whole body beneath it free to the cold air of Banyue. Xie Lian leaned in and kissed his old friend, his- no- their beloved.

His tongue taking the lead and exploring every corner he could find. His fingers ran delicately over y/n soft pink nipples. The man didn’t see the point to hold back anymore and let out all the sounds that were stuck in his throat. Hua Cheng also leaned closer and wrapped his fingers around y/n’s precum leaking cock. He slightly pressed on to the pink tip which made y/n whine against Xie Lian’s mouth.

‘’Don’t worry, love. We will take good care of you,’’ whispered Hua Cheng. Xie Lian leaned back, a string of saliva connecting the two. ‘’Have I ever told you how beautiful you are, y/n?’’ Xie Lian said while taking off his white robe. Hua Cheng followed and his red clothing was thrown somewhere he could care less. This time Xie Lian took y/n's pulsing cock and started slowly moving his hand up and down. San Lang latched his mouth onto y/n’s sensitive nipple, kissing and teasing it. y/n moaned their names, feeling himself nearing. ‘’X-Xie Lian…nghh San L-Lang, I’m g-gonna cum.’’ Xie Lian’s other hand played with y/n’s smooth hair, ’’cum for us, dear.’’ He came without a second thought.

The Crown Prince gave him a sweet, loving smile, pecked his darling’s soft lips and started moving towards his abdomen, leaving butterfly kisses behind. He took all of y/n in his mouth, swallowing his cum in the process. With his experience in sword swallowing in the past it wasn’t very hard. He had no gag reflex.

While Xie Lian was busy with y/n’s cock, San Lang used his own precum and saliva as a lube and smeared it on his own hard cock. y/n felt his second orgasm coming. In ecstasy he grabbed Xie Lian’s hair, not wanting him to pull away. ‘’Y-your Highness…mm,’’ The prince started to run his fingers gently across y/n’s body. Being so hot, bothered and sensitive, this act threw him over the edge again and he came deep into Xie Lian’s mouth. ‘’Xie Lian…’’ he breathed out a whisper, barely hearable. ‘’Such a good boy, aren’t you? So good for us,’’ Hua Cheng teased with his low voice. The man beneath let out a desperate whine, knowing what’s coming next. The black haired king leaned closer, giving him a gentle kiss on his forehead and lips. ‘’I’ll try to be gentle.’’ Xie Lian went to y/n’s neck and started to suck marks into his skin.

San Lang positioned himself in front of y/n’s unprepared entrance and slowly entered. Feeling soft and thigh walls around him he let out a grunt, entering inch by inch. y/n let out loud cries from the pain. Tears started to drip down from the corners of his eyes. Xie Lian shushed him, assuring that everything was alright. He kissed the tears away and started to abuse his mouth with his tongue again. When Hua Cheng was finally all in, and confirmed that y/n wasn’t uncomfortable anymore, he started moving his hips. At the beginning it was slow and gentle, as time went by he started to speed up. Rocking in and out like an animal in heat.

He pulled y/n’s legs more towards him to hit that one spot that surely made his darling lose it. y/n grabbed onto Xie Lian to steady himself. ‘’Gods y/n…’’ San Lang moaned, feeling his peak coming. He pressed y/n into a mating position, to look him into his beautiful tear stained eyes while he cums deep into his gore. y/n screamed, feeling overstimulated. ‘’S-San L-Lang… p-please,’’ with a few more pumps he came inside.

After a few moments he pulled out, panting. Feeling himself coming down from his high. He watched how some of his seed tried to come out of y/n. He pushed it back inside with his fingers, smiling, feeling some kind of pride. ‘’You are so beautiful like this. Now my beloved…’’ Xie Lian moved away from his side and placed himself on top of y/n. He already knew that it was going to be a long night.

[mikaela-the-slut-expert]

Can you do a one shot where male reader feels like hc and xl don’t really need him and starts distancing himself from them. He thinks they are perfect for each other and that he is a nuisance ruining the relationship between them. He takes comfort to a friend who has liked the male reader for a really long time. Hc and xl see this and get jealous. Wondering if the reader doesn’t like them anymore and feels sad. Seeing the reader looking happy in the comfort of someone else.

Creating Space

Hua Cheng x M!reader x Xie Lian

Ugh I love angst so much. It hurts so good 😭

Ignore grammar mistakes

Slight OOC

____________________________________

Some people may say being in the presence of the two strongest and revered people creates a lot of pressure. It's never been a problem for you. You've always enjoyed being in the presence of your two lovers. Xie Lian, a powerful and elegant martial god. While His Cheng is a powerful and suave ghost.

You love them very much.

But you lied, it is kind of pressuring. There's nothing wrong with your lovers of course! It's just that they're so strong and popular on their own. You aren't a very powerful god and you aren't a very powerful ghost. People don't know you. Most times your name is "That's the crown prince's lover, or that's crimson rain's lover"

You could live with this, it's not like you had a desire to be seen by the world. People just tend to forget about you. A lot of people don't like you exist so most of the time they accidentally exclude you from your own relationship. It just seems like an impossible place to reach. What could you do to seem important as well?

Xie Lian and Hua Cheng say you do plenty of important things by loving and taking care of them but it doesn't feel like that. You don't really do anything for them either. Neither of them needs protecting. They can protect themselves and each other just fine, and they go out of their way to protect you too.

Xie Lian is kind and keeps you and Hua Cheng calm. Assuring the both of you, and making sure everyone feels loved. The level headed of the three of you. Hua Cheng is very protective, and goes out his way to do things out of devotion or love. You can't do anything to compete.

Your relationship doesn't go as deep with them either. Hua Cheng and Xie Lian are just so wrapped up in each other it doesn't seem like there's room for three. They're already perfect by themselves and it doesn't look like they need you at all. You don't have a clue on why they even love you.

You've tried to make yourself more outgoing in the relationship? Trying to help them on missions or, help them with daily activities. You've tried taking over household chores like cleaning or cooking and yet it seems fruitless.

They always tell you that it isn't necessary. Someone else will take care of it. Hua Cheng has other people clean the manor, and Xie Lian would gladly cook by himself. They obviously don't need your help in missions, you'd probably just get in the way more than help.

You don't have a very outgoing presence in bed either. Very often Hua Cheng and Xie Lian do everything for you. Sometimes you try to give them pleasure instead. It doesn't matter if it's something little or big, your lovers shake their heads and say that it's a silly thought. You don't need to do anything they'll do it for you. Your lovers give you pleasure, they give each other pleasure. You want to give them pleasure too though.

These thoughts have been at the back of your mind for a while. That Xie Lian and Hua Cheng don't need you. These thoughts make you a little more clingy, a little more desperate. They haven't changed how they act towards you though. You just don't want to feel useless.

🦊🪷

"A-Lian please, let me tag along. All three of us can go on the mission together. Like uh, like a date or something!" You follow Xie Lian around the kitchen, trying to persuade him into changing his mind. It isn't working, it never does.

"A-n, me and San Lang can do it. We won't be long, promise. Just stay here" Xie Lian smiles at you and kisses your head. But you don't want to take this for an answer. You want to help! With something. Anything! It feels awful to just sit around while your lovers do every little thing for you.

You huff softly, watching your lovers get ready without you. "A-Lang you don't agree do you? Please tell A-Lian to let me tag along. I'll make sure not to get in the way!" You try persuading your ghost lover instead, gripping onto his arm to make him look at you.

You already feel humiliated. Begging like a child to join your lovers in something even though you're a grown man. San Lang shakes his head, " Getting in the way isn't our concern baobei. Gege is right we'll take care of it and be back home soon." He kisses your cheek.

You're left in Paradise Manor alone while your lovers leave off somewhere. You should be happy, you feel selfish actually. Anyone would be happy that their lovers do everything for them. Anyone would be happy to be taken care of all the time for the rest of their lives. You just can't...

Soooo you decide instead of sitting at home why not just follow your lovers out! It's not like you would be harming anything, maybe they'd even be delighted to see you. It's a better idea than sitting here doing nothing.

That's exactly what you do, you follow your lovers. With quite a bit of distance and making sure to be careful. You eventually find them, of course not in a good situation. They're busy fighting off wrathful ghosts and you make sure to stay far back. You don't want them to get hurt or anything so you'll just wait over here until they're finished.

That doesn't go well either. One of the ghosts notices you. It strays from the fight without notice from Xie Lian or Hua Cheng. Instead it comes for you, it's not like you're weak! You yelp from the surprise attack from the ghost, but otherwise you easily slay it down. All you were left with was a few deep scratches on your face. Whoo, It nearly got your eye!

You're feeling pretty proud of yourself until a pair of hands are gripping your face, and you notice Hua Cheng looking over your wounds. Even though you have some deep scratches you're smiling anyways. You just killed a ghost! A wrathful one at that!

Before you can exclaim your celebrations Xie Lian is dabbing medicine on your wounds with a furrowed brow. "What are you doing here y/n! We told you to stay home!"

Your smile falls, as your lovers both frown at you. You don't understand you did great! It was only a wound, everyone gets wounds sometimes! "I-I wanted to help" the word mumble from your lips, and Xie Lian finishes dressing your wound.

"How did that fair for you? We were doing just fine without you y/n, but now you're hurt" Xie Lian exclaims, flushed by nervousness and frustration. He had only wanted to keep you safe. He didn't mean to say it like that. It was a slip of the tongue. He hadn't meant it in hostility but you take it as such anyways.

"You two do seem just fine without me" you purse your lips, and back up. You're just upset, obviously Xie Lian would never mean such a thing but right now you can't help but take it as such. You've been suffering with these thoughts for weeks!

You quickly use what powers you do have to make a quick pathway and teleport away. Running away? Classic move but it feels better than sitting in front of your lovers disappointed faces. You just need time to get your feelings together so you decide to visit a friend's place.

You and Mu Qing know each other pretty well and you're great friends! Even though Mu Qing won't admit that. He's actually loved you for a while but you love Xie Lian and Hua Cheng and Mu Qing would never break up your happiness. He's been working on moving on so of course you can still come over and complain to him.

This time you just lie in his arms for a while. You spent some time just getting your thoughts together and stop crying. Then you tell Mu Qing what happened. He calls Hua Cheng stupid and says Xie Lian is oblivious with an eye roll. Mu Qing is actually good at advice and comforting you.

On the other end your lovers are very upset with themselves. Hua Cheng wanted to immediately come find you but Xie Lian told him it was better to give you space. They know you inside and out and Xie Lian knows you need time to get your emotions in order.

After a few hours Hua Cheng decides time is up though and breaks into the heavens again. Just because. Does it count as breaking in if Xie Lian let him in? Nah. They know where you are, unfortunately. They know you're with Mu Qing. Hua Cheng doesn't like that one bit. He's very capable of jumping to the conclusion that Mu Qing is trying to manipulate you while you're vulnerable but Xie Lian assures him otherwise.

Xie Lian makes Hua Cheng wait outside of Mu Qing's palace. Things would only blow off the hinges if Hua Cheng and Mu Qing fought. Xie Lian goes in by himself. He eventually finds you, not like it was hard. He isn't too happy to find you in Mu Qing's arms. Happy and comfortable. He hasn't seen a smile like that on your face in a long time.

Xie Lian ignores the lingering prickles of jealousy and walks into Mu Qing's room without invitation or notice. "A-n t's getting late, let's go home? Please?" He's relieved when you take his hand. Honestly it's nerve-racking. He hadn't meant to say such a harsh thing and then you went to someone else who is obviously much more capable at making you happier than they are.

Xie Lian and you join up with Hua Cheng again. You spend most of the journey back staring at the ground. You're ashamed, you feel like you overreacted. You were being dumb. Maybe they're angry at you and yet all three of you still hold hands. And yet when you get back to Paradise Manor, you all get ready for bed. And yet Xie Lian helps you disrobe and Hua Cheng checks your wounds before you lie down. And yet all three of you end up in the same bed, entangled in each other's limbs. Just like every night.

You all talk about it, words mumbling quietly in the dark room. It's a long conversation of "I'm sorry" and "I love you". You want to talk about your feelings more. Xie Lian and Hua Cheng want to make sure you don't feel left out or they're being distinct. The night ends with kisses and cuddles.

So maybe nothing was really ever wrong, and it would all turn out just fine. Because they've always loved you and you always loved them. Something like this isn't a big enough obstacle to take you away from them.

[howdoesagrapewrites]

𝙃𝙚 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬𝙨

Cw: sexual, lovesick!Miguel O'Hara x afab!genderfluid!reader, once again the reader is based off of me, degradation, biting, oral sex, dubcon, penetrative sex, dry humping, switch!reader, it's the mention of sexual activity rather than happening in the story, reader is not the wife shown in the movie

Miguel O'Hara knew everything about you. When you came to HQ, he was mindful that you merely were a variant of the person he once loved, that you were different, he even tried to find things he disliked about this "new" you. Spider-people work with variants all the time, and they don't make a big deal out of that, but you seemed eerily similar. He heard you crack the same jokes you did with him, tell the same anecdotes, have the same friends, the same taste in extremely specific things, you lived in the same house, and wore the same outfits. Your life was exactly the same, it was just that he wasn't on it, and that somehow you were spiderman.

He acts annoyed like he didn't recruit you, like he didn't want to look at your face everyday, like he didn't crave to have you back in his arms. Like he didn't get hard seeing the curve of your ass in your spidersuit.

Wanting your affection made him feel miserable, but lusting over you made him feel pathetic, disgusting. He knows you'd like that, though.

Because Miguel O'Hara knew everything about you, and you were a freak. He was your first time, so you took some time to warm up and tell him about your fantasies, but they were some fantasies and he couldn't decide which one he liked better. So he knew you'd get turned on at his current situation, you liked the devotion, and you had a thing for when he was being downright nasty, a pervert, you liked when he couldn't restrain himself and stole your used panties, when he jerked off next to your sleeping body, when his cock overpowered his strict nature and turned him into a desperate slut for you.

And he knew it was like this with your variant too, he wasn't exactly proud, but he policed your internet searches, and he found all those oh so dirty smut fanfics. He jerked himself off to every single one, you were imagining someone did that to you, and he was fantasizing with being the one who did it, he didn't even care for the name that was before the "x reader", those were fictional, none of them could fuck you like he knows how.

He knew you had a thing for biting and teeth, his teeth drove you crazy, all it took was a flash of them, and you responded with an uncomfortable shift in your seat and pleading eyes. But you also loved to bite him, he loved your teeth as much as you loved his, you were ecstatic with joy when he asked you bite him harder. No, you're not gonna hurt him, he reassured, and you sank your teeth into him like he was a piece of meat. Also that time when you discovered the effect your teeth could have in a blowjob, you experimentally grazed your teeth on his cock, and he couldn't even pretend he didn't like it, not with the sinful whine, and the buck of his hips into your mouth.

He also knew you liked degradation, you liked when one of you would humiliate themselves to prove his affections, you liked seeing him all worked up, feral, towering over you and doubling you in size, yet still obediently waiting for you to give him the signal, like a fucking pavlov dog. And you also liked to be treated like a slut, even moreso in your masculine days, he loved seeing you confidently bouncing on his cock like the manwhore you were, and in your harder days, you also always gave him permission to turn off the lights, press his teeth in your nape and fuck the dysphoria right out of you.

He knew you were satisfied knowing you were his everything, sometimes you couldn't even believe "why of all people" you where the one to have him wrapped around your finger. Miguel's outmost devotion and love was admirable, he showed you the mercy, love and patience that no one else had ever seen coming from him.

And he loved when you used that power to do as you pleased with him, he gave himself to you entirely, and you never once made him slightly regret it.

You would sometimes slip into his office, or follow him to the bathroom in a public place, and you would dry hump him until he came on the blue denim of his jeans, then you would get up and do something else (nine out of ten times it was running a bath or preparing something for him) just leaving him a complete mess, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, hot body shivering in the cold air, pants stained and uncomfortably tight, but he couldn't look more blissful as he watched you bouncing hips walking away from him.

"you'll be the death of me" he said so many times, without ever suspecting that it would be the other way around, it was him who killed you, it was his fault you died, had he been more careful and protect you from his enemies, you'd be peacefully sleeping next to him. But instead, he's being a creep and watching a security camera of you eating a bowl of cereal at 2 am because of your insomnia, messy hair, fuzzy pajama pants, no shirt and huge dark circles, and he finds you so irresistible just like that. He looked for you in other universes, canon be damned, he destroyed so much, doomed so many billions of people, several variants of spider-people, he didn't care, he was looking for you, but it was never you. He loved all your variants, but they weren't what he was looking for. Until now, this one, this one was different, sure, they wore the mask, but aside from that, it was you down to a T.

The camera he had set up for snooping around your phone lit up, you were probably going to use some fiction to aid you to sleep. The search bar casted a white ray of light to the eyes of his otherwise completely obscured face. "Yandere stalker x reader"

Ay, corazón, if you only knew. If. You. Only. Knew.

[awinterrosesstuff]

Hinata's fans have so many absurd claims. You could spend years trying to debunk them. But there a few...

"At least, Hinata didn't confess during war (contrary to Sakura)"

Hinata confessing her love in the middle of a fight before rushing towards Pain (and failing miserably)

I'd like to add that chapter is literally called "confessions". For Hinata obviously ! I'm sorry, but I don't find Hinata confessing her love in the Pain's arc more commendable than Sakura confessing in the war arc. It's pretty much the same thing. Hinata was clearly there to express her feelings. And contrary to a claim I've seen, she wasn't "forced" by Naruto to tell him how she felt. She didn't need much convincing to make a whole declaration. She was clearly here for that and I'm tired of Hinata's fans trying to claim the contrary.

Edit : Just a small addition after a conversation in the comments: Sakura didn’t confess during the war arc just to confess (contrary to Hinata in the Pain arc). It was a desperate move in the hope of stopping Sasuke from fighting Naruto and killing the Kages. It really makes their hypocrisy worse.

"Neji can't do the twin lions fist"

Well... first, since he didn't use it in the manga, you can say it I guess... but really, why do you believe it's a good thing in favor of Hinata ?

You see that ? That jutsu Hinata's fans like to brag about everytime ? Shown twice in the manga (why Kishimoto ? Why ?) and... no explanation on what it's supposed to do. Nothing. Only the design and the name. Kishimoto literally explained almost every jutsu. His explanations usually look like tutos. As someone who likes Neji, I'm very glad he didn't get superfluous jutsu. In what world people are happy Hinata gets that treatment ? And it's even worse when you consider the databooks where it's stated it taught only to the main branch. Meaning Neji doesn't have the privilege to learn it.

And anyway, if Neji wanted to learn that jutsu, he would have easily. The boy was able to master his techniques by himself just by observation. Before the chunin arc, he wasn't trained in the Hyuga style by Hiashi (contrary to someone else).

This is sometimes attached to differents claims like "the twin lions fists is very powerful" or "Hinata surpassed Neji with the technique" etc. Since it never damaged anything or anyone, it's hard to tell if that technique is powerful or not, or if she surpassed (in the war arc you can tell she didn't) him or not.

"Hinata is so nice and empathic"

"Hinata is so smart"

"Hinata is the strongest kunoichi"

So here all the panels I'd could come about Hinata's canon traits.

So her known traits : She's shy and weird and looks away when Naruto looks at her. Neji describes her as "all sweetness and light" and "peacemaker". Meaning she doesn't like fighting and conflicts. Something that has been shown many times, particularly during this fight until Naruto "convinced" her to fight. She's not good at the Hyuga style and is seen as weak and a failure by her family. I know once Naruto tried to cheer her by saying she was strong. But hey there's a difference between being strong and the strongest kunoichi (a title that goes to Tsunade too).

So, here we go... even if Neji says she's sweet, I can't remember her being particularly nice (something Choji has been noted for) or empathic (Naruto is right there). Giving some ointment to Naruto and Kiba is nice that's true. (Little edit there, I was wrong on one thing) But... reminding Neji's of his status and his "destiny" is neither nice nor empathic. I don't remember her being smart. I'm sorry but if anything, her "fight" with Pain showed she isn't very bright or strategic.

"Hinata's love for Naruto doesn't influence her decisions".

I'm not going to add everything but...

Did Hinata's fans even know their fave character at this point ? The first thing you see her doing is to apologize to Naruto on Kiba behalf, the next is her trying to give Naruto's the answers without thinking about her teammates. She doesn't cheer on Kiba (her own teammate) because of her crush on Naruto (someone she barely interacted with). She gives Naruto the ointment first. She literally fights Neji because Naruto is finally watching her (her own words) and she doesn't want to look uncool in front of him (sorry, what ?). She gives him the proud failure speech. Then in the Pain arc, she's literally risking her life and the village (she perfectly knew Naruto was a jinchuriki at this point) just to confess her feelings. She said twice she chased after Naruto her whole life (the Pain arc & the war arc), you can actually see it in the panels I posted. And she again risked her life for Naruto in the war arc. Almost all her appearances in the manga are connected to Naruto in one way or another. I don't want to hurt anyone, but Hinata is a love interest and Kishimoto always has written her like that. Most of her decisions are made because of and for Naruto.

"Hinata loves Hanabi so much. She's a great sister. "

Please show me one panel where she even thinks about Hanabi. Oh yeah right, she dreams about Hanabi and Neji spying on her while she's on date with Naruto. Poor Hanabi... and poor Neji.

I've also read some Hinata's fans making fun of Sakura for rushing to Madara with no plan just to impress Sasuke. And... what do you think Hinata meant by "in front of him I can't bear to look uncool" when she was fighting Neji ? She wanted to impress Naruto and be seen by him. And rushing at Pain (the strongest of the akatsuki) without a plan is somehow better than what Sakura did ?

Reposting just in case someone forgot... how is that different ?

[ohitslen]

Promises

He should know better. 

Wolfwood has seen Vash make promises, or hear about the ones he has made in the past. He has also seen the end of each one and how every single time the outcome is less than what was promised. 

Vash likes to say embellished words, with a soft and determined voice that lures you into his hopes and dreams, it almost feels like a spell, as if he was calling for you to come closer and believe him. But Wolfwood knows better.

He believes in him, but Vash is much closer to being an idealistic dreamer than a realistic person like he is. He might not be aware of it, but his beautiful promises of a better future give people hope, a hope that is usually embraced with things like disappointment and abandonment. 

He doesn’t think that Vash does it with the intent of looking for any of those things. Far from it, he might even do the impossible in order to accomplish said promises, but life is too short and humans are too mortal for his wishes, so in the end, most of Vash’s promises end up being empty or they come to haunt him as a reminder of his failed vows. He admires the man, for his perseverance and idealism, but he also hates the man, for his stubbornness and lies. 

Wolfwood knows all of this perfectly to a tee. And yet, he has also found himself being drawn to his world. Because he also dreams of it.

A world in where his always present calls for love and peace exist, a world that is far more kind than what he might deserve, a world in where the kids can be happy and roam around without any worry in their heads, a world in where he can peacefully turn grey with age and his hands can shed the harsh callouses of his life. Who knows, maybe a world in where he and Vash can finally know the peace that was taken away from them, in where they can share the calmness that comes with the passage of time, indulging in every tick of the clock welcoming with open arms whatever comes their way without any fear.

It is a beautiful promise. But Wolfwood is a person that has to keep his feet on the ground, indulging in “what ifs” would only make things harder than what they had to be. He can’t have any ifs if he can’t make it through the now. And by the way he is carrying his present, he is doubtful he will even get to see a shed of that promised world that Vash tries to drag him into. So why mourn something he doesn’t even have, or will ever have for that matter.

He hates the way Vash seems to promise things so easily. His tongue silky and pliant, slipping divine words one after the other, promises way too big for what that barren world can actually fit. 

But when Vash talks to him in that holy voice of his, when he hears him say “It’s okay, everything will be alright, I promise” so gently right on his ear, while he holds his face so tenderly making him focus on him and nothing else, he wants to believe him.

He has seen the end of his promises. He knows how impossible they are. But for once, he wants to believe it too. Believe in that loving world that will cradle them both until they fall asleep, listening to the soft sound of the wind laughing while the moons smile upon them. 

So he allows himself to indulge in the warmth of his palms, leaning into the comfort of his existence, feeling the soft air of Vash’s breaths against his skin while their foreheads meet in a touch that feels like a hot brand that will melt him.

For an instant, he allows himself to be selfish and believe that maybe, that is how living in that world Vash so desperately fights for would be. Soft and warm, making him feel safe in the hollow of Vash’s hands where the world seems to fit so well. A world where the blue sky is a blanket that covers the love and care that is nestled in it like the one in Vash’s eyes. He wants to see that world.

For now, he will selfishly think that the world that fits in Vash’s hands is right there in where he is holding him, where his blue eyes are drowning in the light of the sunset dripping with love and care while looking at him, that the gentle touch of Vash’s thumb wiping his tears is the same as the kiss of that laughing wind in that distant future, where the smile of his eyes overcomes the smile of the moons.

He should know better. But he loves the thought of that world. And he hopes that Vash will get to see that world, because that gentle sight is more fitting for someone like him than the one of his violent world.

He promises to himself that he will do what it takes for that day to be possible. Even if the end of that promise will be empty for Nicholas, he knows it will be a full one for Vash. So it really isn’t that empty for him after all.

He hates his lies, and he hates how true they sound, but Vash’s embellished words are far sweeter than his bitter thoughts so they feel better on his insides, almost like a balm that cares for the wounds of his throbbing, painful reality.

He should know better.

But aren’t humans weak at the promise of love?

[usual-art-lover]

Vikdecai with Yandere Viktor.

(English is not my first language so sorry for any grammar mistakes)

Viktor hates Mordecai, of course.

That two-faced, little, arrogant fucker kneecapped him, betrayed him, betrayed the Lackadaisy, left them in their hour of need for his own selfishness, he threw away everything he and Viktor had built as in the partnership, the trust the understanding the never spoken about deep affection-

So, if his ex partner was ever to be seen again, Viktor has vowed to kill him on sight.

The problem is, the night that such opportunity comes, that the disgusting little traitor is standing there, in front of him, outside his door, bleeding profusely, he doesn't act immediately. In fact, he remains still, just staring, long enough for the monster to speak in a faint voice:

"... I didn't know where else to go..."

Just a few words, that mean so many things.

"You (still) make me feel safe "

"I (still) need you"

"You're (still) my partner"

Viktor doesn't always understand what the demon says very well, never did, with all those fancy and nonsensical words... but those words, whispered in that pained voice, he understand so deeply he could almost feel them carve themselves in his brain.

And so, he lets the monster in.

He helps him patch up his wounds, gives him something to eat (some leftovers from mrs Bapka's cooking), lets him rest and hide in his appartment from whatever it is he is escaping from. The demon has said something about a fight with his new "partners", his investigation... Viktor hasn't really paid attention, his brain is still trying to make sense of all the voices in his head, all with very different opinions on what he should do with the other feline in his home; and god does he hate himself for the surge of anger that he has to surpress as he hears the other refer to someone else as his "partner".

Viktor lets him stay the night, tho the tuxedo doesn't sleep, too anxious and paranoid (nice to see some things never change, at least). The slovack wants to ignore him, to shake him, to scream at him or even better to kick him out with a nice punch, what he should've done from the start.

But the sweet taste of nostalgia is too strong on his tongue, and said tongue starts to move, asking the traitor questions, or telling him about whatever comes to mind.

The questions are not about his new job or what got him here, he knows the other won't answer those, so he asks questions regarding Mordecai the man and not Mordecai the violent weapon. Viktor asks if he has come around to read that book with the long name he had wanted so much, if he has actually tried to remake his mother's jewish dish, if he has received any news about his family; and to his surprise, he does actually receive answers.

He wishes he hadn't.

Because now that they are talking, he can't help but slowly see the image of the heartless, disgusting monster break at the seems to leave out Mordecai Heller, his ex partner, the one he trusts with his Life, the one with whom he's able to comunicate with only a look, the one he has loved and yearned for years, despite neither of them ever saying the word; and he should hate himself for this weakness, but in this moment he just wants to relish in Mordecai's presence, be content, for a while after a long time.

Then Mordecai wants to leave.

He puts his jacket back on, his hat too, and talks about how "it's been nice converse with him again", his voice monotone as usual, but his eyes so gentle...

No.

No no no no. Viktor can't have that. Can't have him walk away, out that door, leaving behind everything they are for each other, just like he did that day... No. Viktor Is done with people he loves so desperately leaving his life, he is done with his heart being ripped out of his chest.

So, he doesn't let him. Just grips his wrist.

Mordecai struggles, and pushes and snarls at him, but he doesn't budge. The tuxedo is starting to get angry and truly violent, demanding Viktor lets him go. He doesn't believe Viktor would genuinely get aggressive to keep him there, not after how their last conversation about this very topic ended (honestly he is surprised Viktor even let him in...) But then, Viktor does.

Once he Is able to get out of Viktor's grip, the older cat grabs him again and pushes him back against the wall, away from the door. Mordecai could easily win this fight usually, because of Viktor's knee and all, but not without a weapon and when he has multiple deep and fresh wounds.

And also, Mordecai can read Viktor well too; and while he would be fighting to escape and go back to the shittiest life he has created for himself... Viktor is a lonely man who would be fighting to keep the last bits of deep connection and true love he has left in his life from slipping away once again. Mordecai doesn't think he could win such a fight.

So Viktor keeps him there. In his appartment. Safe, and protected. Not that Mordecai needs it really, but the certainty is what makes the bobcat feel better. Is Viktor slowly going insane? Getting more possessive? More clingy? Wanting to mark and guard and posses every part of Mordecai? ...Yes...

Truly concerning. But he has Mordecai back, so his mind can't find a single fuck to give.

And Mordecai hates it, of course.

Because Viktor Is a crazy bastard who has basically kidnapped him, and he is creepy and touchy and possessive... and yet... it feels so good to be with him again, to talk to him again, to banter with him again; and he would lie if he said the new additions, like sleeping toghether, were not of his liking. And oh, being so throughtfully wanted feels so good...

This came out wayyyyyy longer than I intended, I let myself go a bit too much lol. Anyway, I'm just happy I was finally able to get this idea outta my head!!

Do I want to turn this into an angsty, sad but also kind of sweet and very smutty fanfic? Yes.

Am I also super busy? Yes.

We'll see where this goes, I hope the Vikdecai nation enjoys this for now!

[prettykittycastle]

Urges

Summary: He was known for always being in control, but now he suddenly couldn't control certain urges, especially when they concerned you.

(The reader is gender-neutral, but is AFAB. The ethnicity/race is preferably Black/Person of Color.)

(Content Warning: breeding kink, cowgirl/boy position, somewhat sub!Levi, no pulling out, multiple orgasms)

Beads of sweat were dripping down his forehead, his heart was beating furiously, and as much as he tried to, he couldn’t contain the loud moans leaving his mouth as you rode him into a bliss-filled heaven. 

Heaven. Pleasure beyond belief. Those were things that Levi never ever thought he would actually experience. He’s had a hard, long life. The type of life that no one should experience, and because of this, he never thought he would find himself getting close to anyone. Things like becoming best friends with another person was not something he thought could happen until he joined the Scouts and found a friend in Hange, although he would never admit it to her out loud. He never thought he would find people who were willing to put their trust in him and vice versa until he handpicked the Levi Squad. 

As his eyes dazedly looked up at your gyrating form on top of him, running them up and down your abdomen, memorizing every scar, every old bruise, and stretch mark, he thought about how lucky he was to find someone like you. He never thought he would experience something like romance until you. 

“Levi,” you moaned airily, pressing your hands down unto his chest, riding him even harder as his cock kept hitting the perfect spongy spot inside of you. “Please, Levi.”

“Fuck,” he grunted holding onto your thighs as tight as he can, desperately urging himself to not cum too early inside you. 

That was something that he was not used to. Having to keep himself from indulging himself in you. He was always known for keeping a calm, cool head in dangerous situations; if the cadets were getting rowdy or nervous, he was the one who was always able to calm them down and de-escalate the situation. 

Now that he had you, he couldn’t control himself anymore. Although he never did it in front of the others, he felt the sudden need to always hold your hand and give you a kiss whenever you entered the same room as him. He suddenly had the urge to embrace you tightly after a mission and remind you how much you meant to him. Suddenly whenever he saw you eat or drink or talk to others, he imagined filling your mouth up with something else, bending you over and showing everyone who owned your pussy, cumming inside of you, and refusing to clean you up so everyone can see whose seed was dripping from your used cunt. Suddenly, these urges were almost too hard for him to fight. The title ‘Strongest Soldier’ rang more true now that he had to fight off the urge to make you his every day. 

But now as your cunt traveled up and down his cock, engulfing him in your tight, wet warmth, he found himself in another situation where he couldn’t for the life of him control himself properly, wanting so badly to bury himself deep into you, and release. Even then, he would still lay there, letting you drain him of everything, as long as you were satisfied. 

“Please,” you whined, tightening your walls around him and sinking lower on his cock as waves of pleasure soared through your body for the second time that night.

“Wha-What do…” he had to catch his breath, fighting the need to close his eyes in bliss. He wanted to see your face scrunched up in pleasure as you trembled and moaned through your orgasm. “What do you want?”

With a whimper, you pressed harder on his chest and you began sliding up and down his cock again, spreading your arousal and elongating your orgasm. “I want your cum, baby. I want it inside me.”

The way his breath hitched at your admission was something that no one would ever believe. Not even during battle did his breath stop like it did now. 

Tightening his grip on your thighs, he kept his focus on you and lifted his hips, and began meeting your thrusts, letting out more grunts and groans as he felt your juices run down his cock.

“This is what you want, (Y/N)” he asked, his breathing picking up in speed. “You want my cum?”

“I do, Levi. Please give it to me?”

He moved his hands from your thighs and wrapped his arms around your middle, pulling you down onto his body, pressing both of your chests into each other, while trapping your arms between your bodies, before quickening his thrusts, making sure to fuck into your sensitive spot, driving you wild. 

“Levi,” you screamed, your face landing on his shoulder, not having any other choice but to endure the assault on your cunt. 

“This is what you wanted, right?” He grunted out, tightening his hold on you as he began to lose his rhythm, feeling your walls beginning to tighten around him again. “You want my cum?”

“Yes! Please!” You yelled, feeling a burning hot pleasure soar through your body again, so strong that it left your eyes brimming with tears and your body shaking. “Please! Give it to me! I want your babies, Levi! Give them to me!"

Anything for you! He yelled in his mind, but vocally he let out a groan as he finally slammed up into you one last time, shooting ropes of cum into you. 

Heaven. Pleasure beyond belief. That was what was going through his head as he held onto you, his body experiencing a trembling similar to yours. He knew this was probably not a good thing to do. There were risks that usually he wasn’t willing to take, but this was you. Something about you had the Captain not being able to control himself anymore. These urges he no longer had the strength to fight and would happily indulge in as long as it pleased you. 

[kakushino]

Giyuu gets a cramp in his thigh while training and needs a massage. He's in too much pain to do it himself... but there's this Kakushi nearby... 👀

Flamey, you made me choke on my saliva when I read this. Please, give me more

And with the girls in our discord feeding me... I could not resist. My brain went brrrrrrr

Word count: 0,7k this is filth, also chubby fem reader

Masterlist

"I-is this good?" she asked, massaging his left thigh with careful strokes.

Giyuu was sat in one of the rooms of Water Hashira estate, the shoji doors leading to his training space open. She had had to strip him of his hakama, leaving him only in his fundoshi and a thin training kimono top.

"Yeah..." he muttered, closing his eyes. More than once he had been tempted to fake a cramp just to get her to touch him like this, but logic won every time. A kakushi's job was endless, especially when attending to a slayers' needs day in, day out.

But this?

Giyuu hoped it never ended.

Her warm hands, softer than his own, kneading his thigh oh so close to his crotch-

He moaned when her fingers dug into a particularly hard knot in his muscles. A light blush dusted his cheeks.

"Sorry..." she apologized, soothing over the spot with her thumbs.

Really, he should make it up to her - for putting up with him.

And, as he felt his cock stir in his pants, he knew just the way both of them could relax.

"S-slow down- ngh!" she tried to muffle her cries of pleasure, but each slam of his hips against her ass stole one from her throat. He was so impossibly deep it felt as if he was pushing on her lungs from the inside.

Giyuu could not slow down if he tried, the ripple of her body when he thrust into her hypnotic. He was lost in the motions, his left thigh still sore from his earlier cramp though he cared little - what else could he care about but the way her snug cunt gripped his cock?

Though he was silent, he was not quiet. Breathless gasps and choked moans left his lips, adding to the wet pap pap pap symphony of their fucking, the only witness to it being their discarded clothing.

His hands gripped her plush hips tightly, flesh spilling between his fingers, making him admire her sturdy frame.

He had to see more of her.

Giyuu withdrew from her to turn her onto her back, her mewl of disappointment only urging him to be quick in slamming back inside of her. This time, he got to see her deliciously big tits bouncing with each thrust; his mouth watered at the sight.

“Giyuu~” her voice was strained, whiny, as she tried to grab at anything and everything in reach. 

He leaned forward, the need to be closer to this hidden pearl of a woman winning over the enticing movement of her body against his. His arms caged her in, their breaths mingling and she finally found purchase - clawing at his back desperately, and the pain only served to make him slam harder into her, urging him to chase their pleasures quicker.

The new position allowed him not only intimacy but also to grind against her puffy clit with each roll of his hips, her moans and cute squeaks rising to a crescendo, her tight pussy clenching around him, making him choke out, “Where-”

Her thighs tightened around his hips, the answer as to where an obvious one, even to one as lost as him. A few erratic, disharmonic thrusts, and they were both gone.

Her throat failed her, her mouth gaping open, eyes closed and brow furrowed. If Giyuu could paint, he would immortalize the sight to come back to - to come to. Alas, the only thing he could paint were her insides with white.

His breath stuttered as he stilled as deep as he could, a shaky groan leaving him as he hid his face in her neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses to her skin, as they both slowly calmed down. 

“That was…” she started breathlessly, unable to finish her thought, fireworks still shooting up her spine every time Giyuu shifted a little.

He knew he had to leave her warmth eventually, but he also really really wanted to snuggle into her arms properly. He started to pull out with herculean effort, when his right thigh spasmed like a bitch. 

“Fuck-” He slipped out and flopped onto his side gracelessly. “Another one-” A blush of embarrassment took over his face, the pain and humiliation all adding to his frustration at the situation as he hid his face in his hands.

The Kakushi giggled, “I guess it’s time for round two.”

Oh, he’d give her round two, as soon as the pain passed.

dividers made by the amazing @benkeibear