#as a plant lady and someone who loves poking things

[eruptedinlight]

TELL ME DAMMIT

#star trek discovery #st disco #st dsc #star trek #star trek edit #discovery spoilers #disco #saru #sylvia tilly #michael burnham #disco 04x03 #disco 05x02 #gifset #my stuff #i LIVE for a good throwback #as a plant lady and someone who loves poking things #i got 99 questions and this is 90 of them

[drawingdroid]

Sweet Potato

Modern AU Firefighter Din Djarin x GN!Reder

Summary: You move to your new apartment and meet your new neighbours.

Warnings: Fluff!!!, Meet Cute Trope, Gender Neutral Reader, no y/n, Mentions of food and eating, This is literally the most SFW piece I’ve written ever, Good Dad Din Djarin!!!, But also stressed!

Words: 1336

A/N: This is just a little one shot for you to enjoy as I enjoy sweet potato! I wrote it to celebrate I’m getting my own place finally, one step further from my abusive family, so this is practically autobiographical lol. Anyway, life has been hectic and I felt a little blocked with The Unknown Regions IV, since smut is coming and I want it to feel natural between Din and Reader, but things are finally flowing. Let me know if you like this little self-indulgent piece! The lovely dividers are from @saradika by the way!!!

Edit: I added a moodboard hehehe

You had just moved to your new apartment on the outskirts of the city. Aspiring to be a cosmopolitan girl all your life, you had finally surrendered to your true nature: you craved a quiet existence. Luckily, after some searching your friend Martha had made you an offer you couldn't reject. She'd lend her spare flat to you at an affordable price if you could keep an eye on her grandma, who lived next door. The woman was a kind, sassy 80-year-old lady and you adored her, so it was a win-win situation for you.

After a busy day of moving boxes around with the help of your friends, you (and your plants) were finally settled. With a content sigh, you collapsed on the sofa, looking at the strip of blue sea that was visible from your new balcony. You smiled toothyly, proud of yourself. Finally, you broke free from your family and achieved having your own space.

The morning after you were sitting in your elder neighbour's kitchen with a warm cup of coffee between your hands. Violet, that was her name, was delighted with having you there. She had shown you all the pictures of her grandkids before breakfast and now you were chatting about which plants you could add to your new house.

“Let me give you a piece of this one, if you put it in water, the roots will be out in a week.”

You grabbed the tiny branch and tucked it in carefully.

“I have something for you too!” From inside your tote bag, you took out a paper bag that contained Violet's favorite sweet potato pie. Her face lightened up and she took one serving. But just when she was going to have the first bite, someone knocked on the door. Who could be this early in the morning?

“Oh, maybe it's Din,” Violet said casually and started standing up from the chair. You had no idea who that was but followed her to the door. People trying to scam the elderly had been sadly a common thing in the previous months.

“Good morning sweetheart!” She greeted them when the door was finally opened, and someone responded with the cutest coo. A kid? You couldn't see anything, since the old lady had the entrance only half opened.

“Morning Violet.” That was the most beautiful baritone voice you had ever heard. “Grogu, be polite, that's her pie.”

“There's more inside if he wants one.” You poked from behind your friend's white locks with a friendly smile and finally met with the stranger's eyes. And what a beautiful pair of eyes. His chocolate irises went from Violet to you alternatively and his brows frowned with a silent question. Din knew you weren't her grandkid and was aware of scammers too. Who were you?

“This is our new neighbor, Martha's friend. Just moved in yesterday.” The lady introduced you to Din and the man relaxed a bit, but you were more tense than ever. He was like a dream. Lean and muscular, tattooed arms and the softest looking face. You could sense his gaze scanning you, as if evaluating if you were a threat or not when something grabbed the hem of your clothes.

“Eh?” The biggest pair of eyes returned your look from the floor and you felt you were gonna die from the cuteness.

“Hello little man, are you here for your pie?” The child cooed enthusiastically and Din sighed in defeat. You crouched to be closer to the kid's height, dumbfounded by the little one. He chirped, visibly delighted, but then looked at the older man for approval. Violet was laughing softly at the scene, knowing how much Grogu enjoyed food.

“I'm sorry to interrupt your breakfast,” Din said, shifting his weight while looking at how you made funny faces to the kid. “The fire station just called, there's a big emergency, I'm on duty and they need backup and…”

“Of course, he can stay with us!” Violet interrupted with a dismissive gesture and Din's shoulders visibly relaxed. The kid looked delighted at the prospect and made grabby hands to be picked up by you. You indulged in his petition, obviously.

“Thank you so much, Violet, I'll compensate you.” Din looked at the kid in your arms still hesitant. You were a total stranger but he looked like Grogu already trusted you. And you were Violet's friend too.

“I have a lot of experience with kids, I'll take care of him as my own.” Your kind face convinced him and finally Din nodded. Then, to your surprise, he touched his forehead with Grogu's and he was suddenly so close you could smell his shampoo and the aftershave he used to keep that nice mustache.

“Be polite with them kid.” Grogu giggled and grabbed Din's face with his claws in a sweet embrace. Your heart melted at the tender gesture. It was clear they loved each other a lot, even though you didn't know if they were related or not.

“He's an angel,” Violet responded, caressing the kid's fuzzy head. “But I need you to do something in exchange for keeping an eye on him, son.”

“Whatever you need Violet,” Din responded surprised. The old woman grinned mischievously and then went inside the house. Grogu then surprised yourself to death jumping to the floor and following her.

“Does he…make that a lot?” You asked Din, confused about how such a small kid could manage that jump. Now alone with his caretaker, you felt your nerves growing in your belly. He was handsome and also imposing.

“You can't imagine.” He rolled his eyes and let a tired sigh escape his plump lips and you laughed. It was going to be an interesting day in Grogu's company. “It's so kind of you to visit Violet.” He declared after a short silence. You looked at him wondering what he was referring to. “She's been so lonely since her husband's illness. It's sweet.” He added the last phrase almost muttering and without looking at you. So the big man was shy.

“I enjoy her company, I'm glad we are neighbors now and we can hang out more often.” You offered him a wide, sincere smile.

“I'm glad too.” He responded after licking his lips, his big brown eyes now fixated on yours.

“Here you have, you weren't gonna leave without some sweet potato pie!” You didn't notice when Violet had returned, that's how distracted you were with the new neighbor. She had packed some of the pie you had baked for her and now was handing it to Din in a container. You observed that Grogu was already having his fill, stuffing his little mouth while grabbing the lady's skirt.

For the first time, you saw him smile. The warmth of his expression was contagious and you noticed the cute dimple in his cheek.

“This was the condition to take care of Grogu?” He said accepting the gift.

“Exactly. I'm sure you haven't had breakfast. Am I wrong?” Din looked somewhere else in shame, totally guilty. “And I love the pie, but this time she has baked too much to my poor sugar levels, sorry sweetie.” She apologized but then winked at you. What was she plotting?

“You baked it? That's incredible.” Now your face was red and you started to pick what Violet's intentions were. “Grogu seems to love the pie.” The kid cooed agreeing, his tiny clothes covered in crumbs. He was too adorable to be true.

Din's phone interrupted the conversation and with a concerned look, he gestured to the stairs. Violet just told him to leave with her and Grogu and you waved at the firefighter. You then crouched again to speak to the toddler.

“Let's go, little man, we're having lots of fun.” And you did, indeed.

That day in the fire station, everyone had a bite of your delicious sweet potato pie, and Din was forced to talk about the new lovely neighbour who had baked it. They wouldn’t stop teasing, but all he could think was in seeing you again, the sweet potato neighbour.

#din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin fic #din djarin x gn!reader #din grogu #grogu #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #droidwrites

[ialwaysknewyouwerepunk]

they wear flowers on their chest

x

for @mc5ftjillo, who inspired this post

so, as many may have noticed, our two favorite queers have been in the habit of showing off the flowers they really like. most significantly, we have louis putting flowers on his chest with his very own fashion line, 28 programme, and harry wearing a pair of coats in the late night talking mv where the boutonnières almost cover their entire fronts. this is - obviously - not random, but it really holds more significance than i even realised at first glance. 

from the expo at the V&A museum: fashioning masculinities

history of the boutonnière

boutonnière, or flowers in the lapel of a suit/coat jacket

origin: (probably, likely) the war on roses: two neighboring houses in the north of england, fighting for the throne - wearing a red (house of lancaster) or white (house of york) rose on their chest to show off which house they belonged to

prince albert supposedly started the modern trend of the lapel flower, after queen victoria offered him flowers on their first wedding anniversary, which he subsequently put on display in his jacket. since there were photos made of the event, which was a rarity back then, the gesture spread as a trend

from then on, and especially through the years, it was a sign of a dressed-up gent. formal, masculine, and a show of love - wiki: symbol of good breeding, elegance, and sophistication

green carnation, oscar wilde: 

oscar wilde, a famously queer writer, made a statement by wearing a green carnation in his lapel at the premiere of his play, Lady Windermere’s Fan, in 1892, urging his friends to do the same. it instantly became a symbol for solidarity among queer men, for men who loved other men

‘unnatural’ color for a flower:

“Blooming Haus speculates this may have been Oscar Wilde's way of poking fun at the authorities, using an unnatural green flower to mock the idea that, at the time, love between two men was seen as "unnatural.”

queerness of flowers, flowers symbolising queerness 

flowers have borrowed their names and meanings to the queer community, for all sorts of nicknames or secret codes. like the slang ‘pansy’ for a gay man, which is just a little flower, or how a violet is an ancient lesbian symbol. (or how “evening botanist” is an old school term for a gay man which i think is just the funniest thing ever)

rose

love, esp love between gay men in japan

key part of identity! f.e. Pokémon character James is often shown carrying a rose, which is an established symbol in anime to signify a character is gay

lily

in japan, a popular genre of manga is known as yuri, revolving around romantic relationships between women

depictions of female genitalia

“Both the Greeks and Romans held the Lily in very high regard, including it in dozens of their religious myths and breeding the plants extensively. Alchemists considered it a lunar plant with feminine qualities, while the Lily is in high demand in China for weddings because its name sounds like the start of a phrase wishing the couple a happy union for a century.”

AND THEN WE COMBINE WHAT WE HAVE LEARNED

louis came on stage at the afhf last summer with a custom-made jersey, designed by the man himself, which was pretty much covered in flowers. a flower on his right pec, a bouquet on his left.

source

NOW what’s super interesting here, is that louis is channelling the origins of the boutonnière with the abstract flower symbol he’s adopted as the 28 official programme logo!! it’s a yorkshire rose, the emblem of his home county. AND THEN on the OTHER SIDE he’s got ROSES, a whole bouquet of them, a universal symbol of romance, as well as that of a gay man. with the added fuck-me-up detail that the fabric of the jersey is green, the typical color of a certain someone we know, making the flowers green. just like the green coronation. ok. ok.

then we have harry, who has used lilies before, in the photo shoot for the fine line cover art and booklet, where it was used to symbolise rebirth and femininity. now, in the late night talking mv, he wore the lilies on his chest, first in the museum scene, which flows into the date scene, as well as at the end, where he officiates a wedding and then falls from the sky.

it’s completely meant to fit into the tradition of the boutonnière. harry is conveying the message: i am queer, and i am wearing it proudly on my chest. it’s not subtle, is it? it’s meant as a clear symbol for those who understand, just like oscar wilde and his friends wore the green carnation. it’s so beautiful that it’s the lily on his chest, causing the flower to be a theme in his art, of rebirth and femininity. 

when you look at when exactly harry is wearing the boutonnières in the mv, it’s just...?? in the museum, he’s the art exhibit. he’s wearing the lilies openly on his chest. then, he’s on a private date with a man. his napkin is even pushed to the side a little to show off the flowers in full. then, when he’s officiating a queer wedding, he’s wearing them, and then he seems to be shot from the sky by lightning, and he’s falling through the sky on his bed. WHAT DOES IT MEAN? harry’s gayness, or the way he’s shown it with messages, isn’t hidden. irl he walks around with a pride enamel pin. he’s being scrutinised, studied, and he’s still not hiding it. then he’s in private, celebrating love, and he shows it, loud and proud. it reminds me of how harry’s stated in the past that he has shown us who he is. that he’s said it in enough ways. he hides in plain sight, just like oscar wilde and his entourage. general society knew what the green flower meant, but it remained something unspoken. now, any casual observer could see that harry is at least not straight. and yet, still, you are deemed straight until stated otherwise. 

so what does one do, when one can’t say it out loud? a bit of queer signalling. with flowers. 

#my posts #they wear flowers on their chest #boutonnières #queer botany #that expo at the v&a changed me man #can't stop thinking about it #and now i'm very pleased i have it out here in a post #hit me with the theories about why harry is wearing the flowers in those specific scenes in the mv #i haven't sorted my own thoughts yet #but it's a start #and louis and that green fucking jersey i will never be okay

[mydearzero]

okay, what about a platonic imagine with eddie × fem!reader where she comes out as lesbian to him ? a duo in steve×robin style ? i would love to :)

This had me crying when I was writing it because it's basically the story of how I realised I was bi lmao but Eddie is the best boy and would be so so so supportive and I love this request a lot so here you go :)

girlsgirlsgirls | Platonic!Eddie x wlw!Reader

Summary: Eddie is your soulmate, your best friend. You couldn't help but be scared to come out. But you knew he'd accept you.

Angst & Fluff

Warnings: Internalised homophobia at it's finest. Coming out.

1.6k words

MASTERLIST

Your ride or die. Your partner in crime. Your platonic soulmate. All of those things were ways Eddie could be described. He knew everything about you. Almost everything. 

You knew Eddie wouldn't judge you if you told him. He'd be totally accepting and supportive. Yet something inside you told you to not tell a soul. But your soul and Eddie's were practically one, so did he really count under 'not telling a soul'? You weren't sure. 

It had been eating you for a while, and you knew Eddie'd noticed. He'd ask, but you always came up with a lame excuse like school or something else trivial. It was gnawing at you. You ached to tell someone. 

The more you tried to push it away, the more it consumed you. Just a thought sent you down a spiral. A spiral filled with thoughts of girls. Just girls. Girls, women, females, ladies. GOD, shut up. 

You knew you couldn't hide it much longer. Not from Eddie. 

"Hey, what's going on? Where's your head at?" Eddie poked your side as you gazed out the passenger-side window. 

He finally graduated last week, time for a celebratory road trip. Road trips with Eddie were your favourite. Just him and you driving with no destination, music blaring through the van. You found any excuse to leave Hawkins with him. 

You smiled at him and shrugged. "Just glad to be here and now with you." Your sunglasses hid your eyes, or he would've known more was definitely going on. 

"Well, that's good. Because I wouldn't want it any different." Eddie was genuine, even when he couldn't look at you when he admitted he felt the same about your friendship. He might not always be open about his feelings, but he always guaranteed you felt loved and appreciated. He was truly one of the best people you'd ever encountered. 

You turned to look back out the window. Nothing was on the horizon for miles but bugs and a few plants. Just the road, Eddie and you. The sun was starting to go down, and you felt nothing but grateful you got to run away from things every now and then with one of the people who mattered most. 

When you saw a small lit-up 'OPEN 24H' sign pop up further down the road, you nudged Eddie and took off your sunglasses. When you drove near, you noticed it was a diner-motel combo. "Let's eat. I'm starving." 

"Wanna stay here tonight? I can keep driving for a few, you know. Just sleep in the back?" Eddie suggested. You honestly preferred sleeping in the van. It reminded you of summers spent doing absolutely nothing, your favourite activity. 

"Let's just eat and figure that out after we eat," you smiled and opened the van door. Tingles shot up your legs when your feet hit the gravel. You should really stop every now and then to stretch your legs, honestly. 

You ran to the toilet and did your business. When you returned, Eddie'd already ordered your favourite drink for you. "What would I do without you, Munson." You grinned as you took a sip. "Already ordered food, too. Your favourite." Eddie beamed as he swirled his drink with his straw.   

Eddie lit up a cigarette while you waited for your food. You pushed the ashtray on the table over to his side. You noticed the girl behind the counter give you an up and down. "I think she's into you." Eddie quipped. "Oh, shut up." You shot down the idea, maybe too quickly. Was she checking you out? 

"What, would that be so awful?" Eddie laughed as he took another drag of his cigarette. The girl came over with your food. You kicked his shin to shut him up. 

You ate your food in comfortable silence, but your thoughts were swimming. Drowning. Was the girl behind the counter checking you out? Was she checking Eddie out, only to check if you were his girlfriend? A mistake which was made many times. Did she just think you dressed weird? Was she one of those people opposed to smoking inside? 

God, she's pretty.

You couldn't stop the blood from rushing to your cheeks. The girl really was gorgeous. You eyed her a few times, albeit inconspicuously. Eddie engulfed his food in record time. He stole a few items from your plate and urged you to finish your drink. "Made up your mind yet?" He asked. Your eyes widened. "What?" Was he onto you? 

"About where y'wanna sleep?" His expression was confused. Was that not the last thing you had previously discussed? You let out a breath. "Right, sorry. Let's stay in the parking lot, but sleep in the van? Saves money, and I'm quite tired." You shrugged. "Good, I prefer the van anyways." Eddie slapped a couple of bills on the table before rising from the booth. 

You glanced at the girl and gave her a small smile and wave before following Eddie out of the diner. She waved back with a polite customer service-like smile. Ouch. 

Eddie stood behind you as you climbed the ladder to the roof of his van before following you up. It was the perfect spot to get high and contemplate life. 

You laid in silence as you gazed at the stars. It was time, you decided. 

"Hey, Eddie?" 

"Hmm?" He didn't open his eyes, but you knew he was listening intently as he always was. You didn't know when he'd even closed them. 

"Remember the day we met?" You started. How were you ever going to finish this conversation? 

"Yeah, when you faceplanted right in front of me and ate dirt? Hilarious." Eddie laughed and opened his eyes. He laughed at your pained expression. "Did I ever tell you how I tripped?" 

Nerves started crawling on the side of your neck. You felt like you were going to be sick. It's not that big of a deal, just tell him! He hummed a negative reply. You hadn't revealed to him why you'd tripped that day. 

"So, you remember that day, right? Right. I was just sitting on a swing, doing my thing. I mean, I was a bit too old to be swinging anyways, right?" You were nervous. You were rambling. Shaking.  

Eddie motioned for you to continue. "So, basically, what happened. Melissa got these new rollerskates, right. And they were so rad. I just wanted to get a better look at h- them. And I just wanted to see the tricks she could do because it was just so so cool." 

Eddie cackled at the ridiculousness of the story. "So I got up from the swing with insane tunnel-vision. And then I tripped over a branch, right in front of you and ate dirt." 

"Why are you telling me this now, all of the sudden?" Eddie laughed. 

"You've noticed something has been up lately. I know you have." You sighed and turned to look at your best friend for the first time since starting the story. He nodded, expression turning serious. He knew you were finally about to tell him what had been bugging you. 

"It wasn't the skates that had me going blind to the rest of the world, Ed." Tears started rolling down your face. Your body was tense, filled with anxiety. 

His smile was pained. It had clicked, it must've. You knew he'd accept you, so why were you trembling so much? You saw tears form in his eyes, too. He grabbed your hands to still them. You pulled one free to wipe the tears from your face. 

"It was Melissa." You finally sobbed. Eddie pulled you close instantly. You cried in the nape of his neck, not caring you'd get tears or other grossness all over him. 

"I'm so fucking proud of you. And I'm so happy you trust me enough to tell me. And I love you so fucking much, no matter what. I love you." Eddie held you as you sobbed. 

A flood of relief washed over you, and you just let it all go. The pent-up frustration of not knowing what would come of you. The anxiety of never being able to be yourself. Eddie understood. Eddie accepted it. Eddie accepted and loved you, no matter what. 

"Thank you." You whispered. 

"Anytime." He rubbed your back in comfort. When you finally calmed down enough to get a proper look at him, he had an expression of glee. Your face couldn't help but match his. You'd finally gotten it over with. 

"So, you like girls, right? That's what I need to get out of this?" Eddie confirmed. You nodded and laughed, punching him lightly in the shoulder. 

"Good, because that waitress was totally checking you out. We're going back in there and get her number. Right now." 

"Right now? Ed, I'm a mess! You're a mess!" You gestured wildly between the two of you. 

"That's even better. She'll know what she'll be getting into! We're a mess, but you're my mess and I'm yours. Kind of a messy package deal, if you will. 2 for 1 combo!" 

"2 for 1 combo..." You grinned. 

You did get her number. Eddie had to push you back inside the diner with all his power. But you'd actually gotten her number. Too bad she lived quite the road trip away from Hawkins.

You smiled to yourself when you heard Eddie's breathing slow in the back of the van. You didn't deserve him, really. He was the best friend anybody could ever wish for. For the first time in forever, you could sleep without anxiety creeping into your thoughts.

No matter what, you'd have Eddie by your side.

#eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #platonic!Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson x lesbian!reader #platonic eddie munson #platonic reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x you #stranger things x lesbian!reader #lesbian reader #platonic fanfiction #platonic fluff #coming out #lgbtq #lgbtqia #queer #lgbtq community

[nimhrudd]

Welcome Home A.R.G Crackcanons

Wally definitely feigns innocence because he’s the main character who has to “learn” with the audience

It’s canon that he thinks he’s handsome and enjoys admiring himself in the mirror, so he 100% knows about the simps and is super smug about it

With his soft voice and gentle demeanor, he really fits the “darling” reputation

Despite this, I do genuinely believe he’s a good person and means the best. My personal theory is that Home is manipulating Wally in some way to do their bidding.

(I picture Wally being manipulated by Home is a euphemism for paternal manipulation and depression. But that’s just a theory. A GAME THEORY-)

He strikes me as someone that everyone WANTS to be submissive, but is actually a very dominant

Barnaby and Frank have a SpongeBob-Squidward relationship

Barnaby goes out of his way to annoy Frank

Frank can respect the effort, but would never admit it

Barnaby calls Frank “Frankfurter” much to Frank’s dismay

Barnaby is Sans from UnderTale I don’t make the rules

A very easy-going, morally grey kinda guy. Super chill person who’s always down to have a good time.

He rarely gets embarrassed or flustered. Nothing really catches him off guard

Except anything having to do with romance. If someone flirts with him his brain short-circuits

Which is funny considering he’s definitely one to flirt with someone jokingly

He gives everyone in town unique nicknames

Barnaby has a lovely singing voice. He mostly enjoys singing jazz. But mostly he sticks to stand-up comedy

Howdy is Barnaby’s biggest fan

Howdy has control over the store radio and whenever there are no customers, he turns on hardcore rock. But you’d never know because he wears the same smile no matter the situation

You’d think that with all those legs that Howdy would be a klutz. On the contrary, he’s quite elegant and light-footed

Julie isn’t a klutz either, but she’s super forgetful. Head-in-the-clouds kinda person

Despite this, she always remembers the tiniest details about the most random things (ADHD lookin’ ah)

She’s definitely someone to collect rocks that she thinks are cool or feel nice on her hands

Her love language is touch but she hates being touched without permission

This leads to a few disputes between herself and Frank

Frank is the opposite tho. He acts like he hates being touched but he’s touchstarved

The only people allowed to touch him are Eddie and Julie

Sometimes Barnaby tries to touch Frank in subtle ways just to annoy him. (Such as noogying his head or poking his sides)

Frank LOVES bouncy, squishy stuff. It just scratches his brain just right

On the other hand, he HATES stuff that sticks to him.

For example, I imagine he’d be head over heels at the discovery of oobleck but would steer clear of glitter or anything that clings with static electricity

Because of the mentioned above, Frank has a VERY specific taste in clothing. He just hates the feel of certain fabrics

Knew he was in love with Eddie when the mailman was running to him happily, mail in hand, only to trip and face plant in the mud. Despite this, Eddie didn’t stop smiling

Himbo makes tsundere heart go brrrr

Neither one confessed to each other for AGES so Julie took it upon herself to put them into awkward situations

Cue Poppy “intervening”

Speaking of Poppy, she’s the resident mom-friend. Makes sure everyone’s taking care of themselves physically and emotionally

Despite this she always forgets to take care of herself

Poppy is SUCH a proud LGBT+ mom. Her house is a safe haven for the gays. I don’t make the rules

She’s a tall, elegant, lady, so she swoons at gentle ladies trying to sweep her off her feet

Literally such a sweetheart I love Poppy

Whereas Frank knows all the technical and sensical facts, Poppy is more worldly and wise. She’s been around the coop, so to speak

Im convinced Poppy knows everything about EVERYONE and spreads gossip just for the benefit of her neighbors

(For example she spread rumors that Frank was going to her house to get an engagement ring for Eddie. This wasn’t true, but it lead to both Frank AND Eddie barging into her house for an explanation. She simply placed two cups of tea and a tray of cookies and left them alone in the living room)

Barnaby likes to call her “Cupid” because of this

Poppy always shows up to one of her Neighbor’s events, whether it’s a show for Barnaby or a casting call for Sally

Sally loves the support of peacock mom

Sally writes all her own plays, but makes money by sending in her own transcripts under a pen name

She’s actually very famous under her pen name and is torn between revealing herself to the world and staying mysterious

Sally decides to remain anon so that she can focus on her acting

Spent years in the night sky, watching all the people in town and all their shenanigans. Many years passed before she could work up the courage to come down to introduce herself

Incredible actress, but she has social anxiety and is much calmer outside of a play

Adversely, once she’s got an idea, she’s ALL IN. All her brain cells go into that ONE project or idea, and she ends up dragging everyone along with her. A one track mind, if you will

Sally always casts herself as the lead, but if there are any other main characters or main antagonists she ALWAYS casts Wally to play the part

This low-key offends Barnaby, because he loves a good villain and always wants to play the part of antagonist

Sally always asks Julie to help her make the backdrops

All of the neighbors have fears of some sort, except for Wally

It’s kind of freaky that he never seems to give people the reaction their looking for

But ye Wally has emotions, he’s just INCREDIBLE at masking them

Wally loves eye contact because he believes that eyes are the window to the soul

It’s also an assertiveness thing but no one would ever guess cuz of his cutesy face

Wally def has a staring problem but smooth-talks his way out of any awkward situation that could come from it

Wally is demisexual. Though he loves people easily in the friendly sense, it takes a LONG time for him to fall for someone romantically. But once he does, it’s over for his love interest cuz he’ll become clingy AF

Barnaby is the opposite. He’s very in tune with his emotions and knows immediately when he likes someone. He just chooses to avoid the crap out of them as soon as he realizes. He just gets too embarrassed. I personally headcanon him as asexual

Julie is genderfluid and very similar to Wally. Though she isn’t demi, she loves all kinds of people equally. So it just takes a minute for her to decipher whether or not she loves someone NORMALLY or MORE than a friend.

Poppy is a classy lady who’s looking for a fellow lady to spend her life with. Since she’s got some experience, she’d probably take pride in playing the waiting game. Some subtle touches here, some lingering eye contact there… it’s a slow burn ladies and gents.

Frank is someone who prefers men (specifically Eddie. Good thing the feelings mutual.) likes his men dumb and well meaning.

Eddie prefers men as well. Specifically men who are serious and well read.

Howdy is pansexual, but isn’t really looking for a relationship due to his business.

Sally feels kinda like another asexual to me. But she’d like to be in a relationship with a friend. Like get married and share a life together without all the romancey stuff

Julie and Frank both have the same love language - physical touch. But in different ways as said earlier

Frank also prefers Acts of Service, like Howdy

Poppy enjoys gift giving

Sally and Barnaby enjoy words of affirmation

Wally is a casual Quality Time enjoyer

#lmao bye #ijustthinkhe'sneat #i love him dearly #welcome home #welcome home arg #wally darling #julie joyful #frank frankly #barnaby welcome home #howdy pillar #poppy welcome home #headcanon #crack #crack post #what am i doing

[lou-struck]

Dining In

Eijirou Kirishima x Reader

~After a long Patrol, Kiri wandered into a diner not expecting to meet a cute thing like you.

WC: 1.2k

(This has been sitting in the drafts for a while, it's not in my usual style but I wanted to give it a bit of love.)

After one of the busiest patrols of his life, The Sturdy Hero Red Riot walks down the sidewalk looking for the first open restaurant that he can find. What it is doesn't really matter so long as he gets it in his stomach within the next few minutes. That's when he sees a diner located on the street corner, its old neon sign flickers till the Open is illuminated.

Seeing this as a sign he walks inside and sits himself up at the countertop. A Sweet looking older woman slides him a menu, sending him a warm smile.

“Coffee?” she asks holding out a pitcher

“Yes please,” he replies, sending her a shark-toothed grin as hIs ceramic mug is filled with the dark liquid. After ordering himself a hearty portion of protein he sits and sips his coffee as a few people enter the little diner. Groups of teachers wanting to grab a bite before work, a cluster of elderly ladies chatting about house plants, and those who are waiting for the next train to take them to work. Everyone seems to have someone to keep them company, everyone that is, except him.

It’s no secret the pro heroes have trouble in the realm of dating, the press never allows them privacy, and the tabloids work harder than the devil himself. Not to mention, the hours are nothing if not irregular making it difficult to get serious any time soon.

He is pulled from his thoughts by the sound of the door opening loudly. Sensing trouble he turns only to find a young woman standing tensely at the door trying to close it much quieter than how she opened it.

He is taken aback at your beauty, the early morning has your skin looking fresh and dewy as the cutest embarrassed smile graces your lips. You look friendly and your eyes seem alert as they scan the restaurant for a familiar face. You must be looking for your friends because there is no way someone like you would be alone.

“Open those doors any harder and you may just break them, " the waitress says, coming up and giving you a hug.

“Sorry Mel, you know I didn't mean to,” you say, hugging her back tightly.

“Do you want your usual Hon?” The waitress now known as Mel asks you ducking behind the counter once again.

“Yes please,” you nod, sitting up at the retro countertop a few seats away from Kirishima. It’s unmanly to stare but he couldn't help it, the warmth radiating off you is alluring.

“Hey, You're Red Riot, aren't you?” you ask, gesturing to the pieces of his uniform poking out from underneath his jacket.

Kirishima can hardly believe that you are initiating a conversation with him. Mirroring your bright smile with one of his own he says “That's me!” he laughs But you can call me Eijirou if you’d like” he says enthusiastically pointing at himself with his thumb.

“I thought that was you,” you say giving him a smile. "I'm a big fan.”

“Really? You’re a fan of me?” he asks dumbfounded. He is a younger Pro so he hasn't been as publicized as some of his other friends.

“Of course!” you say, “I think your quirk is so cool,” you are cut off by the waitress sliding steaming plates of food in front of the both of you. His eyes widen at the generous portion sizes as he wonders just how much he will be charged for this breakfast.

Thinking that you decided to give him a break from conversation, Kirishima turns his full attention to the mountain of food in front of him, his plate looks as if it is about to collapse under the weight of the meal.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you staring over at his plate.

“She gave you a lot today, She must like you,” you mumble between bites. The kind gesture from the waitress has him struggling to hide his blush. He doesn't usually get doted upon by anyone but the fact that you noticed it embarrasses him slightly.

“You think so?” he asks, staring down at his eggs.

“Trust me,” you smile. “I have been coming here for years. She only throws in that kind of extra food if you’re special.”

He glances over to where the old waitress is standing as she sends him a motherly smile. “I’m pretty sure I believe you, but if you have been coming here for years, why don't you know how to open a door properly” he teases.

"Hey, it's still early." you say jutting out your bottom lip and folding your arms across your chest, "I wasn't paying attention to the door, I just wanted some food."

He thinks the way you pout is adorable, and as the two of you chat on he realizes that he doesn't want this encounter to be a one-time thing. If he doesn't do something, he may never run into you again. Both of your plates get emptier and emptier until it's about time for the two of your to head your separate ways.

"Oh shoot,' you say suddenly glancing over at the vintage wall clock, "Is that the time? I am so sorry but I have to go."

In a panic, you throw a few bills down on the countertop to cover your meal and tip. Kiri realizes that this is his chance.

"Hey," he says jumping to his feet. "Would it be okay if I were to meet you here again sometime?" The nervous sweat dripping down his back makes him feel more nervous and self-conscious than he felt a minute ago as you freeze in your tracks to process what he just asked you.

Are you able to see it?

Is he taking things too far just asking you out of the blue?

He knows it's unmanly to make uncomfortable advances toward someone who was just being nice, but he really feels that maybe he wasn't imagining the connection between the two of you.

Your eyes widen a bit as you fiddle with your fingertips absentmindedly. Suddenly you blink and seem to regain a bit of composure. "I would like that," you say finally as the apples of your cheeks glow with your brilliant smile. "I would really, like that."

"Really?" he asks dumfounded

"Really," you answer. "I come here most days, do you have the same shift tomorrow?"

"Yes!" he says enthusiastically "I can meet you tomorrow? Let me give you my number so I can text you in case anything happens.”

He tears a piece off of one of the paper napkins in the holder and jots his number down to hand to you.

You take it and immediately put it into your phone. “Thank you Eijirou, I have to get going but I can’t wait to see you tomorrow,” you say running out of the diner.

He sits back in his seat with a yawn as the fatigue from last night's patrol finally sets in. As he pays his own bill he walks out of the diner ready to meet you tomorrow.

It isn't until he makes it to the entryway of his apartment that he realizes something very important.

He never asked for your name...

#bnha eijiro kirishima #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima eijirou #kirishima fluff #kirishima x y/n #kirishima #mha kirishima #eijirou kirishima fluff #eijirou x reader #bnha x reader #bnha fluff #my hero academia #bnha

[basedkikuenjoyer]

The mood feels right, it's that time without light. Who's up for a lil late-night Togashiposting? Because there's one that has me thinking about a few concepts we've been on about. Which means we get to talk baby's first foxboy blorbo again. This was always one of my better posts that still generates interest today, but for the basic idea we talk a lot about the Akazaya as throwbacks and particularly Okiku's ties to Eiichiro Oda's own history on Rurouni Kenshin. There was another two-faced redhead in popular manga at the time, and we get Oda referencing the iconic clash with Game Master in interviews as a big moment he liked. But also just in One Piece canon it's interesting how Ryokugyu with a similar power intersects with Kiku's tale to bolster the connection. Likewise with the parallel story of the thieving fox spirit and how it intersects with Kiku's past.

For this part of our examination though, we're going to look through the lens of another meta concept we've been on about. Poking at the nature of "filler" and how much strict canon really matters? This is the finale of Kurama's last fight in the anime, something really glossed over in the manga as YuYu Hakusho tragically came to a close in the hurried Three Kings Saga. To me though, the anime at least salvages this arc into a worthy conclusion. I don't actually mind the idea of our quartet squaring off their personal arcs underneath the bigger show of the Makai Tournament. Kurama's fight with Shigure is so well done for that. One thing you have to give me, being filler or noncanonical is not an impediment to being an inspiration or an influence on someone else later.

The whole fight is a great finale for Kurama & his demonic past. We meet him distanced from it, they're reconnected in the Dark Tournament, he embraces it to answer the call in Chapter Black...then here after reconciling it he rejects the old self. Importantly though, he only wins through taking advantage of seeds planted by his old self. I love the final line to Yomi about it "I never leave anything behind." That reconciliation of past and present for a brighter future is where I really see Kiku picking up this torch. Himura Kenshin has a lot of similarities in his arc, but Kurama's with themes of reincarnation and parent/child bonds feel like the ways this gentle redhead seeped in. Of course, Kiku is still her own take on the idea. The trans aspect and cloaking it in a lady caring about her reputation is an excellent evolution.

Can't ignore the antagonist here either, this is why I was thinking this part in particular after all. A surgeon with a samurai vibe, choosing an honorable death after defeat. The way Shigure shaped the tone of this climax for foxboy's saga was giving me some big feelings. I honestly haven't rewatched the Three Kings Arc in years. The montage of core scenes though, showing us how Kurama grew into someone so willing to choose this new life, it had a big one I didn't really think about in this context:

How it all starts between he & Yusuke the MC. The story of the Forlorn Hope. That dub name is way cooler because the Funimation dub of the YuYu anime is a national treasure. But yeah...that's where this entire relationship started. It's an artifact that demands the user's life to grant a wish. An empty, unfulfilled Kurama was so casually willing to throw his life away to return a mother's love...without getting the point. Too busy turning over every possibility he hasn't realized how much he's grown. There's no way his mother would be happy with that trade because she doesn't see some legendary thieving fox demon...and if you told her she'd probably just say that explains a lot.

How does Yusuke solve it? Stepping in and sharing the burden. Very similar tone we'd see later with Usopp and the samurai. Even with the little dash of levity and that fine line between nobility and senseless self-sacrifice. Not to mention the big moment of Kiku's fall being Kin's final push to evolve and strike down Kanjuro. That's not unique to YYH but it's one of the biggest pillars of that series. But Bakura Town ends up being a lot like this in tone. The sumo match. Luffy jumps in because Kiku's putting her body on the line to amp up the crowd's panic. The two working together, Luffy stepping up and playing the hero for a moment, opens a new path. Just like the Forlorn Hope here and it letting them slide for being such good boys.

Then from there Kurama's story arc has the same structure we'll see out of Kiku later and Himura Kenshin around the same time. You've come so far by the time we meet you that we can do an arc about confronting that past. But that story can't end with going back to it, can it? No matter what it may mean, it's still so wild for me to see this connection over time. Kurama really was one of my first major anime characters I could latch onto and I've been a One Piece fan for so long. Just can't believe the cutesy waitress we met early Wano had all this in store.

#yu yu hakusho #one piece #eiichiro oda #yoshihiro togashi #late night togashiposting #okiku #kurama

[twistsandtwizzles]

Stars on Mars: Episode 2

Well, friends. Since Adam was found too hot to be voted off of “Mars” last week, we find ourselves back here for episode two of Stars on Mars. I wish I could tell you that it has gotten less dumb, but I am not here to lie to you.

We open with another Shatner intro, breaking down the concept for us: twelve celebrities, twenty-four days, on a mission to find out if they can “survive on Mars.” Unfortunately for Ariel, this intro includes her calling Lance Armstrong “a real astronaut” and this poor woman is going to be saddled with that for the rest of this show’s run, I’m afraid. Shatner also doubles down on his “Starssssss on Marssssss” line delivery, which I respect.

It’s morning in the hab on “Sol Day 3” and BOY did this show’s production team really love the movie The Martian. Our celebrities begin waking up and wandering around the hab. Schwartz and Adam are in the kitchen, Schwartz apparently washing dishes while Adam pokes around for some food. “Hopefully it’s a nice calm day today, with no emergencies,” Schwartz says, which is an incredibly naive thing for a guy who makes his living on reality tv to say.

“I would BEG for that to happen,” Adam replies, the huge grin on his face demonstrating that he knows there is not a chance that they will have a nice, calm day on this reality show about celebrities pretending to live on Mars. “But we’re going to do something today though, for sure.”

Schwartz VOs that everyone is tired from their satellite repair mission the day before. The Hab AI lets the crew know that they need to keep the hab clean and reminds them again that rations are limited.

Ronda is in the bio-dome tending to the plants and “making a compost.” It appears that they have a pretty robust supply of carrots and a bunch of other greens. Richard wanders in to give her a hand, explaining in a talking head that he is nervous about the food situation, but that also it’s pretty cool that they are growing stuff, adding that “I’ve never done that in my life.”

Adam and Ronda are working out when Marshawn wanders out of his special Base Commander suite, wearing a fluffy white robe and brushing his teeth. Schwartz tells that camera that being Base Commander is a “status symbol”: “It’s like having a Rolls-Royce on Mars. It’s cool.” Lance takes this moment to use Marshawn’s private bathroom, which last week Marshawn explicitly told him not to do. He thinks this is hilarious; Marshawn is less amused.

The group is starting to jockey for position for who is going to be the next Base Commander, since Marshawn’s 48 hours are up. Ronda is interested - she says she always wanted to be an astronaut. Schwartz, on the other hand, says there is no chance he will ever be Base Commander and that he likes doing grunt work and not being in charge. He adds in a talking head that he may be “too passive.” 

Lady AI Voice instructs the crew to pick a new base commander, and as they all gather around the monitor to listen to their instructions Porsha throws her arm around Adam, which is cute. Marshawn says that he will wrestle someone for the position. Most of the cast looks flummoxed, but Ronda Rousey is like, you want to do what? And promptly pins him to the ground. Because she’s Ronda Fucking Rousey.

However, the cast agrees that the actual best way to choose the next Base Commander is to vote. Tinashe throws her hat in the ring. Marshawn says he wants to stay Base Commander and Ariel immediately tells him that he is not going to be Base Commander a second time.

Meanwhile Tallulah (whose chyron this week says she is an “entrepreneur”) is suggesting to Adam and Schwartz that SHE should be Base Commander - a promotion after she was a successful Mission Specialist last week. They are buying what she’s selling - and so is Ronda, who says that Tallulah was great on the coms during the mission: “I heard every word of her encouraging haikus.” Ronda then follows up her supportive words by saying that she’s worried that Tallulah might wander off after a butterfly if she’s out in the field. 

Porsha has the role of talking-head-explaining-reality-tv-basics this week, and she tells us that in this game you have to build social bonds, but at the same time you are all competing against each other. 

Tallulah wins the vote and Tinashe doesn’t seem thrilled. Tallulah says, “I don’t know what prepared me for this, but I’ve waited my whole life to show up for it” which is sweet but also girl it’s a reality show where you are pretending to be an astronaut and so I hope there are other things you are also waiting for. She adds that she’s holding them all in her “heart chakra.”

Adam’s take: “Tallulah is somebody so authentically themselves, and so unapologetically quirky and lovely . . . yeah, this could go horribly wrong.” Cut to commercial.

(Oh, Tallulah also says she’s not going to move into the Base Commander Suite which of course THRILLS Marshawn.) 

Natasha is in the kitchen “getting to know her fellow teammates” which in this case means Schwartz. She tells him she’s never seen Vanderpump but her friend watches every episode. This leads Schwartz to explain Scandoval to the people in America who have somehow managed to avoid coverage of it over the last three months and if this is you, please teach me your ways. I’ve seen five minutes of the show in my life and can still tell you about Ariana and Raquel and that apparently Tom Sandoval has ruined white nail polish for us all.

Also Schwartz says he is recently divorced, and Natasha says, “yeah the pandemic was kind of rough,” to which Schwartz strangely muses, “It was good for our marriage I think.” And Natasha, confused as the rest of us, says, “Why, it ended in divorce.” And I laughed.

Tallulah assigns base duties - notably sending Schwartz and Ariel outside to squeegee the solar panels and assigning Porsha and Lance to conduct health and wellness checks. These health checks appear to include blood pressure, heart rate, temperature, and a “wellness” survey.

During Adam’s wellness check, Lance asks him how he’d rate his happiness on a scale of one to ten. Adam replies, “Ten. I’ve never been happier.” Natasha immediately calls him out: “You’ve never been happier? That’s so good to know" and they both laugh because clearly this not the happiest any of them have ever been. Porsha tells Adam that his temperature is . . . good. I am not convinced she knows how to use a thermometer.

Schwartz and Ariel clean the solar panels and complain about doing physical labor; they decide to dump the excess water because “I guess we don’t need it.” This, my friends, is what we call “foreshadowing.” They plod back to the hab as Schwartz talks about how desperately he wants a shower.

Then, a cut to the command room where the screen lights up with a warning: Water Pressure Critical. Then a cut to a water tank outside, which explodes. Then a second tank explodes. Then a third. 

Inside, the crew discovers they have no running water. You know what that means: an emergency dispatch from Shatner. He explains that there is no water! (Duh.) But guess what: there is a bunch of FROZEN WATER UNDER THE SURFACE OF MARS. Amazing that they know that and also exactly where it is! Important Shatner note: if the mission fails, the Base Commander will be up for extraction, but the Mission Commander is going to be safe from extraction success or failure.

Oh my god this episode isn’t even half over why am I explaining all this in so much detail! Jesus. Okay, blah blah blah they have to send the crew out to get the water. Natasha volunteers to be Mission Specialist, primarily because she doesn’t want to go out to Mars and also because as she tells the rest of the group, that she’ll be able to translate Tallulah’s “woo-woo” instructions as needed.

So everyone except for Tallulah and Natasha dons their spacesuits and head out to the surface. The mission is going to involve rappelling down a cliff and then using a tarp to direct the water to a hose that will bring the water back up top. They have thirty minutes to fill four barrels with water.

Tallulah and Natasha have assigned Adam and Ariel to stay at the surface and fill the barrels. Immediately Marshawn says that he doesn’t want rappel down because he does not want to go into a cave “where I don’t know if there are snakes or spiders.” Tallulah sighs and switches Marshawn with Adam.

Porsha rappels first, confronting her fear of heights with encouragement from Richard, Adam, and Lance. Adam goes next, saying he looks “like a gay Buzz Lightyear.” Everyone makes it down and it’s only Schwartz left when Ariel suddenly decides SHE wants to go down into the cave, not stay up top. This causes a crisis in mission command, and Schwartz volunteers to stay because Ariel is clearly “experiencing a little FOMO.” Tallulah sighs and says fine, Ariel can go down, despite that fact that the mission guidelines say that physical strength is needed in the cave and they’ve already lost Marshawn. It is clear that literally everyone except for Ariel thinks this is a bad idea.

Okay. So it takes a bit of time for this crew to figure out how the tarp works, to Lance’s annoyance and look Lance is clearly an asshole but I would be annoyed here too. But they figure it out and start filling the barrels. Everything is going smoothly and Schwartz reports that they have three and a half barrels full and there are still six minutes left. Everyone celebrates! 

Then the hose falls apart, and Ariel can’t hook it back in because it’s too heavy for her. Adam rushes over to help. We cut to a talking head where Ariel says that “maybe” if she “knew how physical” the task was going to be, she would have stayed up top. And . . . girl. 

The pipe gets fixed and the team loses maybe a minute of time. And up top, Schwartz has bad news: actually, when he said they had three and half barrels filled before? He “misspoke.” There were only two and half barrels done.

Natasha and Tallulah are in disbelief. “You said we had three and a half.”

“I misspoke,” Schwartz says again. There are two minutes left.

They keep trying but obviously there is no way they are going to fill another bucket and a half in this amount of time. The mission fails.

Tallulah is directed to go up to the airlock and join the rest of the crew up for elimination. Natasha is left alone in the hab to start selecting people to stay. She chooses Ariel as mission critical first which would not be MY choice seeing as her insistence on switching jobs is the reason Schwartz was up top to begin with, but, whatever.

Anyway, this episode’s bottom three: Schwartz, Tallulah, and Marshawn. The group decides that Marshawn should stick around given that his strength will probably be useful on Mars, and also, he’s not the one who miscounted barrels. 

To me, this choice between Tallulah and Schwartz is clear: it is not hard to count to four even for a man who stars on Vanderpump Rules, and Schwartz should be out of here. Tinashe agrees with me. However, the rest of the crew thinks that Tallulah should have been more forceful as commander and not let people switch jobs willy-nilly. So they say goodbye to Tallulah.

Tallulah says that on Mars she found “joy and deep connections with people" and that she is very proud of herself.

This is a bad elimination!!! Why do I care?? This show is so dumb.

Next week: fire in the biolab! A robot dog! And Marshawn refusing to give up the base commander suite.

#adam rippon #stars on mars #recaps

[lazytyphooncollector]

Just Lay Here Side Chapter RaphxTruly

As Truly woke up the next morning she felt something she felt something poke her in between her inner thighs bear the middle of her anal and vaginal areas causing her to moan and whimpered softly. Suddenly she felt someone's snaggle tooth embedded deep into her right shoulder blade which caused her to yelp and squeaked softy now. Whoever it was sure wanted to hear her make all kinds of dirty noises for themselves. Suddenly her eyes widened. Wait snaggle tooth? There was only one out if the 4 mutant turtle brothers who even had such a thing and it was…..

"R-Raph?! Pl-Please!!! Wh-What are you doing?!" Truly couldn't help but mewl out as she turned her head to gaze deeply into his intense gaze of his masked onyx eyes looking back down at her as a smirk graced his sexy hot handsome features.

"Surprise baby. Shocked to see me?" He asked her tempting her to choose her words carefully next as she only nodded her head yes.

"But what happened to your mmmmfff!-" She asked him as she was caught off by his big mouth pressed passionately onto hers keeping her quiet and still for a second trying to process everything that was happening right then and there. She moaned against his and when she felt him pull her even deeper into the deep dark abyss a fire starting lighting up and welling deep inside of her as she closed her eyes and kissed him passionately back. He brought up one of his big green calloused three fingered hands as he squeezed one of her perky soft smooth globes of flesh and pinched and pulled her nipple which cause her to whine and cry out.

"Raph please! Ahh fuck!!!" Truly moaned out.

Smirking again he easily lifted her with ease as if she weighed nothing because basically compared to his 220 pounds of pure muscle she was only 115 pounds so she was light as a feather to him. He parked and planted her ass cheeks deep onto his face and suddenly a squelching sound could be heard as he brought out his tongue and started circling it and wrapping it around her outer flower petals needing to desperately taste her for himself. She squeaked as she tried to get up but his fingernails digging into her hips were telling her to keep her sexy hot self right there and let him take care of her and her wants and needs since he had unparalleled sense of smell which could smell her arousal for him a mile away. He slowly inserted his big wet moist thick muscle deep into her pusst where it started flicking and lapping deep into her and further in to deeper through to reach her core and her center which finally it did as Raph bent arched and flicked his tongue onto her g spot curling around it until Truly was about to reach her first orgasm of the morning that day at last.

"Raph I'm gonna!-" and with that an oegasm erupted straight out of her pussy and completely draining and going into Raphs's mouth as he swallowed it and licked his lips as he released her. She got off of him and panted. He only smirked at her and gazed at her lustfully and lovingly too.

"I love you baby but now it's time you returned the favor. Now come here and give the boss some oral too doll face," Raph cooed and growled at her which caused Truly's face to heat up and blush beet red.

"Raph!!!!"

@raph-red-fan @primroseprime2019 @mistyroselove @naya-queenzie @tulipvalley27 @nikitaboeve @lady-maria-the-wolf225 @lasttriptonyc @raphsgrl @rebellious-mutant @doctorelleth @jaenisamusculargurl @camibanani @darkhoodedvendetta-blog @immadollfacelove @kkloco @redhoods-daughter-from-hell @swagtreecrown @knobsshamanics @tamitaninja2007 @sweetshepherdslimeartisan @lovelylulu1 @rin-oroku @dasdummenutellabrot @chuu-u3 @kawaii-anime-life123 @cattonmilap @janet-the-dark-queen @lolatheatiny @michelangelokin @shortgremlinaxolotl @scarlettestitch @foreignbrunette @temenos-empath @skeezpyuff @screamingnoodl @xxcirus-masqueradexx @sketchnskribbles @yourgurlami1234 @izzytheturtleboomslang

#tmnt raphael #oc x canon #rottmnt #smut

[strangcbchavior]

( michael cimino / 23 / cis man / he/him ) — did you see HOPE'S MERCER'S BOYFRIEND'S BROTHER, CHASEN KING-REYES, wandering around the mercer hollow today? i heard around town that the BIKE MECHANIC/STUDENT is QUICK-WITTED, and PERTINACIOUS, but also RASH, and CAGEY. people say that they remind them of THE SOFT FLUTTER OF TURNING PAGES, RUNNING RED LIGHTS, and BATTERED LEATHER JACKETS, but how well can you ever really know someone in mercer hollow? ( jay / 26 / mst / she/her)

✧*･ﾟ𝒃𝒊𝒐𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒉𝒚

up until he was eight, chasen was cj king. the only people that were ever allowed to call him that were his parents: marian and waylon king. his mom was a physics teacher at the high school two blocks away from their cute, little two-story house in the suburbs. his father owned a landscaping company and planted the azalea bushes underneath the tree house he built with chasen the summer he turned six. it was pretty close to perfect—and then his parents died in a car crash.

the only family he had left was his grandma with early-onset dementia and his uncle with a drinking problem, so he went into the oregeon foster care system. after bouncing around from home to home for a few years ( no family waned a sullen selective-mute who liked percy shelley and edgar allen poe for long ), chasen was dumped into the place for all the old and unwanted kids like him: a group home. he learned pretty quickly that you couldn’t be the kid with the extensive poetry collection in a group home—and you couldn’t cry, not even quietly into your pillow at night. chasen wasn’t interested in being anywhere in the food chain, but he wasn’t going to be the kid who got pushed around, so he laid a kid out with a punch to the gut on his third day there and kicked him until he stopped smirking. he lost his privileges for a month, but it was worth it to be left alone.

when he was fifteen, a strange lady showed up at the home with an even stranger man. apparently, his father wasn't his father. trippy. looking back, it was kind of obvious. people always asked the white couple where they adopted their brown son from. but his dad was his dad, and mr. reyes was just a rich guy who his uncle tried to extort. for a long time, chasen wished that mr. reyes would've just payed his uncle off and left him alone, but things got better slowly. his siblings were...weird, but his dad ended up being kind of cool.

chasen did very well in school, despite transferring so often as a kid. his only friends were books, and he liked it that way. he got a full-ride to liberty after graduating first in his class, and he never looked back.

thanks to his mom, chasen had an early relationship with science. he liked working with his hands and figuring out how to take things apart and put them back together again. it was only natural that he went into mechanical engineering. he started fixing bikes at the local garage for spare change while he worked on getting his masters.

✧*･ﾟ𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕

character inspo: ron swanson ( parks and rec ), oscar martinez ( the office ), jason todd ( dc comics ), jess mariano ( gilmore girls ), buttercup ( powerpuff girls ), bob belcher ( bob’s burgers ), louise belcher ( bob's burgers )

chasen likes to keep to himself. if you don’t bother him, he has no reason to bother you, but if you poke the bear...watch out.

he has a quick-temper, but he always tries to punch a wall instead of a person lmao. progress is progress, okay. 

he’s usually pretty quiet, and he unfortunately ( or fortunately in his opinion ) has resting bitch face. when he does speak, he is usually being sarcastic or deadpan. def not a people-person, but he’s weirdly good with kids and great with animals bc they lack any pretense lmao.

is a little shit around people he knows well. classic baby of the family shit.  

loves poetry and literature ( the romantic, victorian, and modern eras, specifically ), but he doesn’t talk about that lmao. he’s a lot more likely to talk about the cars he restores in his spare time or video games.

not a sports person, but he works out religiously for “health reasons.”

he hates being in charge, but he also hates being told what to do. his ideal work environment is being given a task and a deadline to complete it by without any instructions he needs to follow lmao. he’ll get it done, but he’ll do it his way. 

he’s used to people having a certain perception about him, so he usually keeps the smart thing to himself. bc. no one expects anything from an idiot with anger management issues. 

oh yeah. he has major anger management issues. in fact, he’s currently IN anger management rn for punching a douche at his dad's last gala 

has a v ‘eat the rich’ attitude from growing up lower working class, but now he is rich, so. it's weird. he doesn't like it lmao. 

he as a not-so secret soft side if you ever see him with kids or animals.

most of his bluster is a giant show for the people around him, and that’s why it’s so obnoxiously loud.

#mhintro

[jadedfvll]

hello! my name is lina (she/her), and i play (for now..because knowing me and my self-control..) the eldest child of house zhao, lord zhao xuanyu. when this rp was first introduced to me i was like O-O because as someone who loves themes like this, this was right up my alley. so i...ahem..went to take a look at everyone’s blogs T-T and was just blown away by how amazing each and every thread was (kudos to all of you, they were truly, SUCH amazing reads T-T). so...out of pure impulse and maybe some convincing, i am here to present to you xuanyu, and if you’d like to plot with him, please give this post a like! (feel free to dm me first as well, or ask for my discord!) 

while some of xuanyu’s things i’m still slowly thinking about, under the cut is some info about him!

eldest son of admiral and lady zhao, oldest of three siblings, lord zhao xuanyu. 

32 yrs old, firebender, captain in the military & yuyan archers’ commander

xuanyu is both diplomatic and affable (owing, in part to his looks), but he is also both reticent and ambitious. the fact that both of the latter traits exist makes him difficult to read, because he seems as calm as water, and the fact that he withholds much of his thoughts to himself. what xuanyu says may often not be what he thinks, and most people see him as the warm but diligent eldest, both honest and kind. (what a joke, really)

was raised with closely with the sang family’s children.

prefers spending time somewhere quiet compared to loud places / gatherings

likes plants

he’s also vry spiritual aka he has a habit of meditating and praying (though of course, none of that is genuine..it’s merely a habit of his to be able to obtain the serenity he needs to think.

he also likes music, and went out of his way to learn the dizi (chinese flute)

prefers keeping his hair up in a ponytail, alternates in dressing in blue or black 

he’s known for his handsome looks, and the quiet elegance he tends to exude. almost no one has ever seen him lose his temper (save for his subordinates). sadly these days, it seems that his capabilities have been overshadowed by gossip about his looks

funny thing is, his parents thought that he would be a girl, and that’s why he was named 瑄羽 (xuanyu). his nickname amongst his family and their close friends was even xuan xuan (bring it up and you’ll see his face twitch.) [his name also means jaded feathers/wings which came as a lil surprise to me cuz it is ironic considering house sang’s emblem and things...]

he can be very charming if he wants to, and if he’s interested enough in someone / finds it interesting to poke their buttons, he will teasingly do so. he tends to show that charming & teasing side a little more towards nobility, the more contemplative side of him reserved for his quiet moments: so most people do have an impression of him as outgoing, charming and diplomatically friendly.

he has unfortunately, not have had any prior romances or crushes (he probably didn’t understand much of why he needed to have one and was more worried over the growing loyalties he saw of his house towards the vassals they were pledged to), though there is a possibility that quite a number of pple have had crushes on him. 

xuanyu disagrees beneath the surface with a lot of what house zhao values--or the soldier mentality that has kept their house trapped in foolish loyalty to the declining house sang. (or what he thinks is a declining house sang) and with the recent assassination + exile of some of house sang’s daughters, that sentiment has only grown stronger, which makes him all the more apprehensive of the fire lord’s reign : because who knows what the fire lord would do to them in the future, with house sang no longer ontop of their heads?

xuanyu disagrees as well (rather DEEPLY) with house sang’s pacifistic ideals--to him, things that you want ought to be grasped tightly in your fist, and sometimes regardless of the process of how you obtain what you want, as long as the end/bigger picture is attained, everything you do, no matter how uncomfortable it is--is right.

and so xuanyu secretly seeks emancipation of his house from house sang, something he hides from all members of his family. there’s no telling what he’ll really do to be emancipated from them, truly.

considering that his family presides over being house sang’s personal military, bodyguards as well as being the guards of the city...we can all assume of the possibility of something going really wrong if they’re not held in check. 

for someone who dislikes the idea of his house’s blind faith and loyalty towards house sang, it’s ironic that xuanyu himself demands such faith and loyalty from the yuyan archers that he commands. he’s efficient, ruthless and cold-blooded when needed--which was one of the reasons why many were surprised that even at the age of 30, despite his genius in his younger days for firebending, xuanyu has yet to reach the ability of lightening bending, something of which he does get scathed for.

he has long fallen from being a genius in the eyes of many, due to his inability to lightening bend, even though his many other accolades attest to his capabilities as both a diplomat and a commander. 

in fact, xuanyu’s latent talent is shown by the fact that he has in fact, mastered almost all kinds of weapons that he has come across. he is both an incredible marksman and blademaster, a skilled spear and halberd user, all of which, he had come across and mastered in his youth, with the latter two having been learnt partially out of interest and boredom. he is also adept in terrain + military strategies, and has a pretty good knowledge of utilizing traps and botany, something that he’s still conscientiously studying.

despite being talented, what a lot of people don’t know is that xuanyu spends a lot of time and effort in honing his skills. he is the kind of person that is like 90% talent and 110% hardwork, which is why many (including his dad) are disappointed that he hasn’t reached the threshold of being able to use lightning bending.

xuanyu also holds little attachment to his family, despite having a good familial background and a loving family. while he plays a wonderful older sibling and a duitful son, xuanyu is not tied down by ideas of loyalty towards his family or clan, and with the ability to see beyond the trappings of a house’s benefits and loyalty, it is from there where his conflict stems. despite his ambition, he is a free spirit, although he is currently chained down by his father’s determination to be loyal to the sang family.

xuanyu’s father may be the head of the household, but he has been managing the financial assets and diplomatic relations of house zhao for quite some time ever since he turned 18. however, the final say still remains with his dad, though that isn’t to say that he’s not above doing suspicious stuff without anyone knowing.

he has a burn across his collarbone close enough to his neck from a slight mishap in a firebending spar in his youth, when he was still considered a firebending genius. admittedly, in his younger days he showed off a bit more, and that burn is a reminder when someone older & more advanced than him in firebending decided to put him in his place in a spar. since then he’s learned to keep mum about his talents, just quietly letting them grow without anyone knowing. 

the burn actually ended up festering and turning him feverish, so xuanyu had a lot of time in bed by himself feverishly thinking abt things and replaying that match in his head...so...the unfairness / underhanded tactics in that one battle actually set the stage for him learning to be underhanded and sly in his own battles. strike first before the enemy can make a move, and when you strike--make it hurt.

he has quite a lot of scars on his body that were from his time in the army as well as the battles he went thru.

wanted connections:

CHILDHOOD FRIENDS, ENEMIES, FRENEMIES -- probably nobility, and maybe by extension some royals, considering that they’re of a lesser noble house? young xuanyu still hides a lot of his countenance behind the mask of being dutiful and affable, and he was known as a genius back in his younger days (though that sentiment seems to have long faded into disappointment). he was also a little bit of a showoff, especially when his parents were around, believing that that was what was expected of him--until a particular spar that left a scar on the side of his neck told him that sometimes less is a little more.

EX-BODYGUARD? -- considering that xuanyu is a part of the zhao family, i’m sure he was sent out perhaps a couple of times to gain experience in being bodyguards for some nobles or royalty. he joined the military at a pretty young age considering that his family is of military, so you might hv had a teen xuanyu being responsible for your wellbeing. whether or not that connection remains as good or as bad as its suppose to be is up to you.

BEING THE SUBJECT OF ONE-SIDED CRUSHES -- despite having no experience of romances himself, and oblivious as hell about things related to it, xuanyu’s good looks and the affable disposition that he shows in front of many probably made him one of the most yearned for noble bachelors in the vicinity. unfortunately, none of these one sided crushes have ever come into fruition, and xuanyu might or might not have broken a couple of hearts both intentionally and unintentionally somewhere along the way with his obliviousness.

RIVALS / SUBORDINATES/ SUPERIORS --  despite his affableness, xuanyu will often butt heads with people that he believes aren’t right, or if he disagrees with their ideas, especially when it comes to the yuyan archers or if you are his superior in military. not that he questions your capabilities of course, he just doesn’t like being told what to do, even though he ends up doing it accordingly and well. and he’ll probably make sure you know that he’s not happy with that. 

PARTNERS IN CRIME / MAYBE NOT IN CRIME -- there are a lot of things that xuanyu keeps hidden, not just from everyone, but also family. but it is also what enables him to have unlikely partnerships with a lot of people, though keeping it deeply under the wraps is something that he values heavily. his trust is not easily earned, and whether or not he enjoys your partnership enough to continue it is also another thing entirely.

MORAL COMPLEXITIES -- being the subordinate / working closely in the military with xuanyu also means that in one way or another, you are given more insight into the seemingly dutiful and affable eldest of the zhaos. you’ve seen him at his worst, and at his best, quarreled over the niftiest of things to the greatest moral complexities in war--and perhaps you are slowly realizing that perhaps, zhao xuanyu’s moral values don’t seem to align much with what he seemingly portrays himself to be.

RED STRINGS OF FATE -- xuanyu not having experience in love doesn’t mean that he’s incapable of love. in fact -- he’s just never really thought about it in particular detail. he’s either never formed a close enough attachment to someone for such an attraction to occur, or he’s always had something on his mind that takes priority over fiscal things like finding love. you’ve either caught his attention from the get go or he’s found himself having a slow liking for you. i’m also much of an angst lover, so  👀 i believe i’ve pretty much set him up for misunderstandings and lack of communication or maybe even perhaps him falling in love but not saying / confessing himself because of his nature to keep things close to his heart and barred from anyone else. perhaps this red string of fate will crash and burn or consume both of them in flames, or maybe it will be one of gradual longing but never attaining, snipped short by either one of their own doings. who knows? give me moments where xuanyu compromises his morals and does things he usually won’t do all for them!!! but god does he not know how and what is love and i am so ready for him to just be slammed into it without any preparation before hand. of all the things that xuanyu likes to control, romance is probably something he never thought would slip out of his control...

#riseintro #-- 🅼🆄🆂🅴 🅵🅸🅻🅴🆂 -- zhao xuanyu #i'm so excited to be here T-T #pls plot with me ToT #also kdjfg i know..this was supposed to be a short intro...but...i ended up not being able to stop myself i..OTL

[no-droids]

Beginner’s Luck

Part Twelve of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 14.6K

Warnings: 👀👀👀 SMUT.  Oral sex (male receiving), cockwarming, sexual acts in public, the use of blasters and other canon-typical weaponry

A/N: Twas the night before Mando season 2, and all through the house—NO IM JUST KIDDING SDKSFKSVS anyways I am so sorry for not being here for basically all of last month but I could not miss this incredibly momentous occasion for anything. Merry season 2 my lovely baby yoditos

***

“Well,” a modulated voice gruffs expectantly from behind you, clearly tired of waiting.  “Turn around, let me see.”

“No.  I look ridiculous,” you sulk from the corner of the hull, refusing to do as he says.  You thought this was stupid from the very beginning and openly told him so, but you’re also a complete pushover for him with just enough backbone to be frustrated when you inevitably give in.  “And don’t you ‘sweet girl’ me, it’s not gonna work this time.”

“Sweet girl,” Din’s deep voice lulls through the helmet, raspy and soft.

Fucking fine, if he’s gonna twist your arm about it.  You spin around with a deep frown and a chrome visor stares back at you as you waddle forwards, and you don’t even need to look at the kid cradled in his forearm to know he’s smiling toothily as you clunk and rattle.  Once you’re standing directly in front of them both, you blow the stray hair out of your eyes and plant your hands on your hips, just waiting for the inevitable response.

Only, you don’t get practically any response at all from him.  He stays perfectly still and says absolutely nothing, and though the baby’s mouth falls open with happiness and he reaches for you, he doesn’t make a sound either.

“I told you,” you grumble after a few moments of pained silence.  “I look ridiculous.”

Still, nothing.  You purse your lips, shifting from side to side uncomfortably, and eventually your suspicion grows and festers until it finally bursts forth.  Oh for the love of Maker—

“I know you’re laughing under there,” you accuse with a growl.  He doesn’t move a single muscle but you don’t buy it, not for a single fucking second.

Then suddenly the helmet glances away from you and stares purposefully at the wall of the hull as the kid starts giggling, and you knew it.  You fucking knew he was laughing.

“You look great,” comes tightly through the modulator after a moment, and you pull your lip up into a snarl, vindicated in your findings but not happy about it.

“Is that how this is supposed to protect me?”  You wave your arms, hearing them squeak and clank like you’re a droid that hasn’t been maintenanced in centuries.  The rough metal jerks up and smacks your chin with the shoulder movement and you grimace.  “Make the bad guys laugh themselves to death?”

“It's bad,” Din finally turns back to you and admits with zero shame, and your cheeks burn at how stupid you must look right now.  “Way too big.”

“Too big?”  You blink at him.  “That’s your criticism?”

When he presented it to you, your first impression was some sort of brown paint—but no.  It’s fucking… rust.  It’s damaged and scraped up and it looks like it’s been through the ringer and back, and not in a way that gives it character.  There’s almost a literal hole in the fucking chestpiece and it’s dented so much that it actually creates more than enough space for your breasts, what the fuck happened—?

“You’re telling me you went from this—”  You ask pointedly, knocking your knuckles against the ill-fitting piece of metal and feeling it wobble against your chest, “—to that—” you tap the pristine, gleaming armor strapped to his body that easily costs more than probably quadruple your entire life, “—without any go-betweens?  It’s missing one of the shoulders, Din.”

He ignores you, flipping the chestpiece over your head with his free hand and letting the metallic clatter of it meeting the floor behind you ring out through the hull.  “I’d hoped at least something would fit,” comes his filtered sigh.  “This planet isn’t nice.”

That sobers you up a bit, and you feel your heart thump painfully.  “Are we on Corellia?”  You ask without thinking.

“No,” he tells you immediately, quelling your panic while pulling off your one singular pauldron.  “Tatooine.”

You’ve never heard of it, but from the grave undertone of his voice, you know the drill.  Different setting, same kind of people.  Smugglers, rogues, criminals—the type he’s used to being around and knows exactly what to expect out of them.  You always feel safe when he’s with you, but when he leaves?

“Oh,” you say, because you don’t really have anything else.  It’s quiet for a little bit, but then he continues on before you can come up with something to fill the sudden uncertainty on your end.

“I know someone here,” Din murmurs, bending his knees and sinking down to start undoing and pulling the shoddy thigh braces off your legs.  “Someone… nice.  It’ll be safe as long as nobody sees me leaving or coming back, and the kid would be happy to see her.”

Your eyebrows pull inwards, something… unfamiliar settling inside you.  Din doesn’t have friends, he’s made it clear that he doesn’t really like anyone that he knows well enough to introduce you to.  Even when he’s lowered himself in front of you and is technically undressing you, you feel a spark of… no, not jealousy, that’s crazy.  But for real, who is he talking about?

“Why can’t me and the baby just lay low somewhere remote like normal?”  You ask instead, but he shakes his head.

“No such thing,” he grunts, pulling off the other thigh brace.  “Tuskans or Jawas will find you even in the middle of the Dune Sea.”

“I like Jawas,” you blurt, having had many positive experiences trading with the little creatures on Arvala-7, but his helmet immediately tilts up to pin you in place and you shut up, feeling the tangible unamusement radiating from the thin blade of the visor even when the kid starts giggling again.  “I mean I… don’t like Jawas?”

Din sighs and rises back up to his full height, finally handing the baby over to you now that you’re not weighed down by that ridiculous getup anymore.  “You can either stay with her while I get the quarry or run the risk of pirates finding you drifting above the atmosphere,” he reasons bluntly, not mincing words.  “But it’s not a good idea to be stuck on the surface without protection, someone will find you.”

You bite your lip, hugging the kid closer to your chest for a second.  “Okay, that’s fine,” you murmur quietly after a moment.  “We can stay with your… friend.”  

You clear your throat and move to let him pass by to get to the cockpit, except Din doesn’t take a single step.  You blink up at him and after what feels like an eternity of no response, the helmet slowly tilts sideways at you and… oops.

Was that not subtle?  You didn’t know what to call her, genuinely, that’s why you hesitated.  You didn’t want to use the word acquaintance, it felt too detached for the fact that he said the kid would be happy to see her again.  That’s what’s called a friend, right?  

Maker, why are you being so weird about this?

Thankfully, you end up getting away with it.  After a few painful seconds of looking at every single thing in the hull besides him and humming a song you make up on the spot, Din slowly walks past and disappears up into the cockpit.  You take a deep breath and gently rub the baby’s ears between your fingers as the Crest powers up with a ferocious rumble beneath your feet.

***

It’s bright.  Fuck, it’s so bright here.  You hold the kid to your chest with one hand and shield your eyes with the other as the ramp slowly descends, dust immediately kicking up around it.  Din’s palm is resting against your lower back and his thumb gently brushes back and forth, but your heart decides to drop the very moment his hand does, and as soon as the ramp clanks against the landing platform, he’s striding down into the blazing hot desert sun without you.

Something in your chest squeezes and whispers to you that he probably doesn’t want to touch you when he’s about to see an old friend again, so you wait a few seconds of space before descending down the ramp behind him, not really knowing how you feel right now.  But you’ve barely taken a single step to follow when a woman’s voice screeches out from across a vast distance.  “Oh no, no no no—don’t you even think about it!”

Din slows to a halt at the end of the ramp and gives whoever it is a small nod, nothing beyond it, and if you weren’t purposefully looking at him for cues right now, you’d probably miss the greeting entirely.  You stand on your tippy-toes from behind his cape as a fiery little middle-aged lady in a mechanic’s jumpsuit marches up to him with an attitude that more than makes up for the height difference.

“You’re not allowed here anymore,” she pokes his chestplate brazenly with one hand and props the other on her hip, clearly not excited to see him.  “Not after the ruckus you caused last time, no sir, not on my watch.”

“That won’t happen again,” he gruffs shortly, not providing a single thing beyond it, and you blink.  What… what happened last time?

“It sure won’t!”  The strange woman agrees shrilly, crossing her arms and widening her eyes until she looks a bit like she’s been out in the suns too long.  “I’m still recovering, Mando!”

“I compensated you,” he reminds her, a quiet edge of frustration beginning to creep into his voice.

She suddenly narrows her expression at him, going from manic desert lady to sharp and discerning skeptic within a split second.  “How much do you think my life is worth?”

Din takes forever to respond, seeming to either be choosing his words very carefully or grinding his teeth under the beskar in frustration.  Probably both.  “I brought my ki—”

“You bring trouble!”  She bursts out, stomping her foot on the dusty landing platform and holding her ground.  “I don’t care how cute your little one is, go park your ship on some other poor soul’s hangar bay!”

He doesn’t say anything back, staying completely silent while you stand there awkwardly and wait for his response, and it’s almost like you… forgot.  How quiet Din can be, how unnervingly little he can choose to offer to conversations until he deems the information absolutely necessary to provide.  He allows you to forget that reserved nature of his.  He talks to you.  He never used to at the beginning, but somewhere along the way it just became increasingly common to hear his voice, both with a high-pass filter and blissfully without.  Now though, there’s just too long of a weirdly tense pause in the reunion for you to handle without doing something about it.

So you step out from behind him with the child in your arms, giving her an apologetic smile with as much friendliness as you can possibly put into an expression.

“Hello,” you greet her gently, musically, lifting the baby’s hand to give her a companionable three-fingered wave from the both of you while he coos.  “I promise I’m not trouble, but he did bring me along this time.”

Din and the woman simultaneously turn to look at you; her like you’re just as strange and jarring of a sight to see on this planet as the tiny unnamed boy in your arms and him like your voice by itself is enough to loosen his shoulders.  Though neither one of them ultimately respond to you, you can tell by the way his fists unclench that you’ve at least helped him relax, even if the frizzy-haired lazy otherwise ignores your introduction entirely.

“Now just what in Maker’s name are you doing with a poor little stowaway like that?”  She faces him and pokes his armor again.  “You runnin’ a charity out of that battered piece of junk you call a ship?”

“Three hundred credits to let them stay with you for a week,” he turns back to tell her, cutting directly to the chase.  Alright, so you don’t really understand their relationship at all at this point.  He said she was nice?  And yet he’s already bribing her that handsomely?

“Five hundred,” she immediately shoots back, and your heart sinks.  Fuck, there’s no way.  There’s no way he would spend that much, you’re going to have to find somewhere else to stay.

But… he doesn’t respond.  Which you now remember with a jolt of surprise, means confirmation.  Not wasting words agreeing, he’d say something back to her if he had an issue.  Maker, five hundred credits.  You’re starting to wonder if he’s really able to make any money at all doing this, or if the job is just… fitting for him, so he continues to do it.  He’s spending more and more credits on you every single time you turn around, and while you don’t feel great about it, you know Din well enough to know he’s stable and independent enough to make the decisions he wants to make.

So you just stand there and hold the baby to your chest, unsure of your place, while Din eventually turns around to face you.

Sometimes, if you’re being honest, you almost find yourself wanting to… do soft things with him that you know you shouldn’t while other people are around.  Granted, he’s never told you not to, but the last thing you want to do is undermine his reputation by unintentionally revealing his gentler side.  You want to give him a hug and maybe hand him the baby to say goodbye, but you don’t know if that’s how he wants to present himself to company right now.  Unfortunately, that ends up translating into you just looking at him and awkwardly waiting to see what he does.  Your feelings won’t be hurt if he just takes off without another word now that you know that that’s his intent—you promise, they weren’t hurt the first fifty or so times he’s done it.  You understand him, it’s alright, he doesn’t need to—

But then he leans in and lowers his voice until only you can hear it.

“I’ll be back soon,” he tells you, and you feel warmth creep into your chest.

You understand him.  Which is why you feel like you could almost burst with how much he didn’t have to say that but chose to do so anyway.  You already have a solid time frame—a week—which is more information than you usually get, and it’s such a small thing.  It’s insane; if you made a list, you’d have 1) talking to you, 2) knowing his first name, and 3) seeing a glimpse of his forehead as your top reasons why he might care just as much about you as you care for him.  That’s insane.

He takes a second to reach a glove out and rub the baby’s ear as he makes his adorable little baby noises up at him, before the helmet tilts back up just slightly to look at you.  

“Be safe,” he waits for you to whisper back.

And you think now is finally the time to go, right?  Except he waits just a few precious seconds more, just holding there, silently.  Maker, you don’t want to miss him, why is he doing this to you?  You’re trying to play it cool, see-you-later’s have been commonplace between you for nearing a full year now, so why does it feel like now is the first time he truly doesn’t want to go?

You hold the kid with one hand and start to reach for him the split second he turns to walk away, and you quickly drop it as the dry wind snaps through his cape.  He leaves and doesn’t look back.

Still, you watch him disappear, until eventually you’re reminded of your host’s presence with the tap of a wrench against your shoulder.

“Hope you know your way around a hyperdrive,” the woman says with a smirk.  Maker, Din didn’t even give you her name, you’re going to have to ask.  “Gotta repair at least two of ‘em by sundown.”

You catch the hefty tool with your free hand and turn to her.  “Pre-Imperial or post?  Never done a restoration, but I’m a quick learner.”

She blinks at you like that was probably the last thing she expected you to say, but you give her the same friendly smile from before and look towards the entrance of the hangar for the ships needing maintenance.

***

So Peli is… a character.

She’s quick and entertaining and whip-smart, but you worry that if she had a whip, she might actually use it.  She’s nice—she is, but she damn near works you to the bone once you prove yourself capable.  You don’t think she expected the extent of your practical knowledge of mechanics, she went into it assuming you were going to be useless and did a hard U-turn that very first night.  You both worked together to fix two malfunctioning hyperdrives by sundown, just like she told you she needed, but then she looked vaguely surprised and nobody showed to pick up until two days later.

The second day is more hectic, and the third day is worse.  You cradle the kid on your hip while you work one-handed, smudged grease all over your forehead and sweat sticking your hair to your neck.  Using Peli’s sonic shower never leaves you feeling clean no matter how many times a day you find yourself wanting to wash the dust and grime from your body, the same way yours used to back on Arvala-7, and you immediately get why her dark hair seems so frizzy and dry whenever you step out of the stall and catch sight of the similar rat’s nest on your head in the small mirror.  Hypersonic waves dry it out more than the blazing hot suns on this planet—you look the same exact way you’ve looked for decades and while you don’t mind hard work, you can’t stand the complete lack of water on this forsaken rock.

Din was right, though.  She is nice, but in a way that she never wants anybody else to find out about.  She cooks you food every night but expects you to clean the whole kitchen after, she lets you have free reign over the caf maker as long as you remember to make enough for her, and she allows you and the kid to pass out on the beat-up sofa in one of the secluded back rooms for the time being.  On more than one occasion, when she assigns you chores that require two hands and a steady focus to complete, you overhear her babytalk behind the control panel as she bounces the kid in one arm and plays with his ears.  It fills your chest with a quiet, subtle kind of warmth, and you understand why Din trusts her with him.

At least you stay busy—which, understatement.  She works you so hard that eventually she starts handing you tasks that don’t really seem… pressing.  Replacing the spherical joints on her three pit droids, hand-scrubbing the grime off the pots and pans she uses to cook the same two meals everyday, polishing the dusty windows overlooking the landing platform even though they’re caked over with dirt not even an hour later.  You realize soon enough that she doesn’t have nearly the workload here as she claims, periodically catching her playing cards with the droids while you’re busting your ass doing chores once all the real work has clearly been accomplished, but you’re not upset.  You like being busy, it’s how you’ve lived most of your life.  However, at some point, you actually end up running out of things to do.  After that, it’s like she has to actively look for tasks she still needs completed.

One morning you find her in the parked Crest, ripping open the guidance systems paneling and talking to herself.  You sip your caf and watch silently from the landing bay, hair pulled up in a messy bun and the baby on your hip as the suns rise on your shoulders and she mutters, whole sheets of metal being tossed out from the insides of the Razor Crest.

You've also learned she responds incredibly well to the prospect of credits, so you don’t spend too much time wondering what her goal is—find something in the ship for you to fix and then charge Mando extra for the materials whenever he comes back.

Hilarious though, as if there’s anything in your ship that actually needs fixing.

You spin around with a sigh and walk back into the hangar, knowing today will probably be the first slow day in awhile.

***

A few hours later, you’re invited to play a game of Sabacc for the first time in your life.

There are so many rules—so many suits and names to keep track of, so many values to memorize, only to be forced to choose one card after every round to keep just in case the rest of them happen to shuffle at random, which occurs at least once or twice every game.  There’s too much luck involved to figure out any sort of strategy; you feel like sometimes you’re hopelessly lost and end up winning anyways or you wager nearly your entire stack of bolts on a perfect hand and then you lose the entire thing regardless.

It’s an unpredictable nightmare.  But it’s something to do, and you’ve learned that playing just as stupidly as you bet allows you to easily stay in the game.  The baby sits in your lap and plays with one of your rusty metal gambling pieces while your leg bounces, and Peli grumbles under her breath once it appears you get ahead of her in winnings.

“Beginner’s luck,” she tells her favorite pit droid quietly, who focuses its singular eye at you in a way that somehow feels unfriendly and nods on a brand new swivel, courtesy of yours truly.

You don’t argue, because there’s no point.  The whole fucking thing is luck, but there’s no point.  You know enough about this game to know that you might give something away if you speak, so you keep your mouth shut and let her fill the void.  You know how to stay silent, you’ve learned from the best.  Wordlessly drawing a card from the deck and tucking it in between two others of the same value, you decide to trade one of your other cards at complete random and hope it all just works out.

“Ship looks like it’s brand spankin’ new on the inside,” Peli mutters into her mug out of nowhere, and you pause for a moment, before silently nodding at the offhanded comment and trying not to show how pleased you are by it.  “Was falling apart the last time I saw it.”

You keep bouncing the kid on your knee and fan out the cards in front of you, hoping his big black eyes aren’t reflective enough to reveal your hand.  “I have a lot of free time.”

“I can tell,” she acknowledges, crossing her legs and leaning back into her chair.  Peli sets the mug down and sighs.  “You’re a good mechanic.  I’d offer you a job here, but something tells me you wouldn’t even consider it.”

Now, you do smile.  But it’s a hidden one.  A fond one.  One you find impossible to fight when you’re reminded of him.  You miss him and ache for him and all those collectively angsty things, yes—but mostly you’re just… able to find a bone-deep solace in even thinking about him.  Your heart tightens, but it’s far less constricting than it is a comfort, a firm embrace.  It surrounds you in its safety; Din’s mere existence is your protection, wrapping around you the same way the beskar protects him.  Nothing can touch you.  You’re safe, from all the things you used to fear and all the new things you’ve learned to fear.

No, you’d never consider it.  This planet is too much like Arvala-7, just slightly more populated and dangerous.  You love the baby.  You love him.  You’d never consider it.

“Don’t you get bored?”  She asks you with a raised eyebrow, and your smile admittedly drops the slightest bit.  “Just waiting around for him to come back?”

You don’t have to think about your answer.  Of course you do.  If you’re being honest, it does feel a bit like your life is split between worlds—one with him, and one without.  Whenever he’s not here, you’re thinking about how much you want him to come back, and whenever he is here, you’re thinking about how much you don’t want him to go.  You’ve never experienced anything like that before.  There were a few local farmers scattered far across the arid landscape of the place you used to call home, and three of your neighbors all had kids around your age.  So you experimented when you were younger, since you never had much else to do in your spare time, but you never loved any of them.  You’d always go back home and continue to do chores, continue to look up at the sky and wonder what you were missing.

“Yes,” you admit quietly.

But what you don’t tell her is that in exchange, you get to see the galaxy.  You get to have experiences you’ve only dreamed about, take care of the cutest little baby you’ve ever seen and become part of a family.  You don’t know of anything you could want more.  Adventure, companionship, pleasure, and fulfillment.  Sure, you get restless, and sure, you don’t necessarily feel good about the fact that Din seems to be your driving force even when he’s away, but you know independence.  You know what it means to live for yourself.  You’ve done it long enough that you’ll never forget how to, you’ve experienced it more than enough to know you’re happy about throwing yourself off the cliff and falling into something different.  As much as it’s new and terrifying, it’s better.  Now you have other people to live for, too.  

You marvel at the change—not just from a year ago, but from a handful of months ago.  He used to terrify you.  You used to keep your mouth purposefully shut around him because you were scared of overstaying your welcome and being dropped off somewhere equally as remote as the place you grew up.  Never could you have imagined that the fiercest guardian the galaxy has ever seen would decide you’re also worth protecting.

No, you figure, you just need to… find something in addition.  Something else to also commit to, give yourself something to do.  You can practice the new self-defense maneuvers he taught you, that’s a good idea.  But maybe you can also…

You eventually decide to prompt Peli in a change in conversation.  “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“What do you want now?”  She takes another sip of her caf as if you’ve been bothering her about this all day long, and… well, it’s times like these that you wish you had a helmet, too, if only so you could roll your eyes.

“I’ve got a few pieces of rusted metal in the Crest,” you eventually tell her, careful with your phrasing and not sure how much you want to reveal.  “They’re in bad shape, but I want to keep them.  Could I use some of your tools here to hammer out some of the dents, dissolve whatever crud is on the surface?  I saw you have a forge back there that’s barely been used, just need the metal hot enough to be pliable without sacrificing its integrity.”

She furrows her eyebrows at you.  “But I still need your help with…”

You wait, but she’s got nothing and you both know it.  Still, you keep a pointed silence and wait for it, wondering if this’ll actually work.  This is what Din does, right?  Just refuse to say anything and make the other person crumble under the crushing quiet?  Miraculously, it proves to be successful—you watch her flounder for a response, her will wavering the longer you sit there and stare expectantly at her.

“Fine,” Peli finally acquiesces, and you grin.  “But only if you win this round.  What d’you got?”

You set down your cards to reveal your hand.  A perfect twenty-three if you’ve been counting right, unbeatable unless she or any of the droids managed to get the same, and you know it didn’t happen as soon as she takes a few seconds for mental math and then scoffs.

“Beginner’s luck,” you tell her kindly, pushing all your winnings back over to her side of the table with one hand and scooping the kid up with the other, before turning around and heading towards the Crest in search of Din’s old armor.

***

It’s late afternoon on day five and you’re on your back on a creeper seat, sweat dripping down your neck as you reach up to fiddle with the engine of a T-16, a Skyhopper similar to one you built yourself on Arvala-7.  They're not space-faring vehicles, they’re only capable of reaching the upper troposphere, but owning one allowed you to develop solid flight skills without ever truly being able to leave.  Honestly, you don’t think you’ve ever despised a ship more.

You know you’ve got engine grease all over and you feel like you’re boiling in your own sweat, but you’re almost done.  After this, you’ll be able to go back to working on your side project.

As soon as you’d been granted Peli’s direct permission to do so, you mixed the chemicals necessary to eat away at everything besides the basic structure underneath, and then spent all day yesterday manipulating the metal to better fit someone your size and shape.  You slaved over the wickedly hot forge and developed a whole new muscle in your arm from hammering and reheating, hammering and reheating.  You had to repair the way the chestpiece was tapered into a concave point by folding the thin metal back in on itself multiple times, strengthening it without flattening it back into its original shape too much, and then you ended up melting down some of the extra material from the needlessly large shoulder and thigh pieces to fill in the gaps.

Granted, you still have a ways to go on replacing the crushed magnetics box that was falling off the chestpiece and filing down the rough scrapes and sharp edges, but you’re now left with almost a full set of armor that’s a uniform dull silver in color and molds way better to your general figure than before.  You’re not a blacksmith or armorer by any stretch of the imagination, but you’re good with your hands and did what you could in the time allotted.  It looks better than you ever thought it would, and without access to Peli’s enormous collection of tools and machinery, you know it would’ve been better off in the trash.

Still, you have to finish this engine first before you can rip apart the control unit wiring on the armor to see how the whole set fits together and what else needs to be repaired.  You’ve been working on it for a few hours before you hear the door to the hangar open.  Yet, when you don’t immediately hear Peli’s voice calling out to you, or anyone else’s voice for that matter, your heart thuds in your chest with sudden excitement.

“You’re back early,” you tell the engine suspended over your head, knowing he must’ve already thrown the quarry into the Crest parked outside before coming to see you.  Right on time, footsteps approach and then a boot carefully catches the flat platform between your legs, slowly rolling your seat out from under the ship until the rest of the sunlit hangar is revealed to you.

You know you must look a hot mess right now.  Your hair is a disaster and there’s not a clean spot to be found on your body—sweat glistens and pools along every curve you have and you’re probably drenching the spare jumpsuit Peli let you borrow, but Maker, there he is.  Every time you see him is like the first time all over again, except this time the Mandalorian is looming like a giant over you, the helmet tilted down and silently taking you in.

Instead of settling you, his daunting presence gets you hotter than dual suns in the sky ever could.  Fuck, he hasn’t said a word to greet you, and yet you’re already wondering if you can entice him to shove you back under here and join you.

You slowly push yourself upright and he steps back just enough to allow it, but not an inch more than that.  You have to crane your neck up to keep looking at him, and he stands close enough over you that you wouldn’t have to reach far at all if you wanted to touch him.

And it’s crazy to think that… you absolutely could touch him, if you wanted.  He radiates danger, he hunts and tracks for his continued survival, he’s probably got fresh blood staining the dark fabric of his cape and he’s so fucking intimidating—and if you wanted to, you could touch him.  

Maybe you can partially blame your sore muscles as to why you immediately drop your head back down, but mostly you just want to stare at a part of his body that happens to align perfectly at eye level.  And fuck, nothing stops you from looking.  He doesn’t help you up, but he also doesn’t move so you can haul yourself to your feet, either.  He just holds perfectly still with his body standing tall over yours, content to stay exactly like this while your hand slowly reaches out to wrap around one of his ankles.

He’s so warm, his muscles flex strong under your palm as you let it drift upwards, biting your lip as you flick your gaze back up to the chrome visor and then down again to the apex of his thighs.  Your other hand comes up to scale the beskar strapped to his leg and you roll yourself forward slightly, wondering if he’d let you…

The black fabric stretching over his crotch just barely touches your fingertips before his hand is suddenly whipping out and grabbing hold of your wrist.

You gasp and jerk your head up to look at him, somehow equally hoping that you’re both in trouble and not in it at the same time.  Din’s abruptly chest raises with a large, labored inhale, as if he wasn’t breathing at all that entire time, as if he just now remembered the setting, the fact that he’s not alone on the Crest with you right now.  Peli and the kid have to be somewhere in the hangar, you know that, but…

“We’re leaving tonight,” he breathes out through the modulator, and you have absolutely no fucking problem with that at all.  “But… shit, but…”

“But…?”  You prompt, wanting nothing more than to let your hands reach back up to his pants again, but you settle for slowly dragging one palm up his forearm as his grip on your wrist tightens.

“Fuck, I wanted to take you somewhere first,” he groans like your feather-soft touch is actually hurting him, his hands suddenly dropping yours and pushing you away to clench into fists at his sides.  “Maker—why do you always f-fucking do this to me…”

You raise an eyebrow at him this time, the curiosity starting to mix with the heat simmering down low, the kind that you'd feel even on a frozen wasteland of a planet as long as you were with him.  All at once, you decide to channel him and his trademarked silence, enthralled by the incredibly slim chance that it will work equally as well on its creator.

“…Distract me,” he finally growls out an answer to the question you never asked him, sounding frustrated with you for reasons you still haven’t figured out, and your mouth is drier than the desert outside.  Oh stars, you feel… fucking powerful.  “From everything,” he goes on, talking honestly and openly, more words given to you in thirty seconds than he’s probably offered to anyone all week long.  “Fuck, I feel like I can barely do fucking anything anymore, I’m losing my fucking mind.”

Your heart slams in your chest, wondering if he possibly feels the exact same way about you as you feel about him.  Missing you whenever he’s gone, dreading the moment he needs to leave again whenever he’s with you.  The thought alone is enough to set off fireworks through your veins, pumping hope and excitement from your fingers to your toes.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe out, biting your lip in a way that doesn’t look or feel sorry at all.

“No, you’re not,” Din grunts, before reaching out and hauling you to your feet, and even if there wasn’t a flat seat under you with wheels, it’d still be awkward and uncoordinated as fuck.  “Shit.  I… I need to clean up.  Grab your things, go tell…”

Din trails off after a second, suddenly sounding at a complete loss.  You catch your footing and stare at him as he falters.  “Uh.  Go tell…”  He gestures with a sense of finality to the control room, as if he’s actually successfully communicating with you by doing so.  “Her.  That we’re leaving tonight.”

“What?”  You ask him, thoroughly fucking confused.  “What are you saying right now?”

“The woman,” he clarifies, clearing his throat.  “The mechanic, with the… droids.  Tell her I’ll pay her before we leave, but we’re g—”

“Peli?”  You blurt, completely flabbergasted at this point.  “Did you forget her name, Mando?”

“I…” he shakes his head slightly at you, like you should already know him better than that.  “Never asked.”

“But you—?”  You blink at him.  “But you said she was your friend?”

“You said she was my friend,” he immediately points out, with—oh Maker, just biting accuracy.  It wasn’t necessarily a jab or anything, but you still feel dizzy with how fucking spot on he is about it.  Yikes, you absolutely did say that.  You forgot.

“Oh…” you mumble, at a stunning loss for a response.  “Ha.  Oh.  Yeah, huh.”

There’s too many beats of awkward silence after that, probably because he’s just so blown away by your way with words that he’s just attempting to analyze the wisdom.  Stars, you’re making a complete fool of yourself in front of him, aren’t you?

“Were you jealous?”  He suddenly asks, and you jerk upright, your heart kicking up to a gallop in your chest at the question.

“I’ll go tell Peli we’re leaving soon,” you quickly agree and go to scurry away in abrupt panic, but he catches your wrist and hauls you back before you can get far.  You run into him with a gasp and immediately start to repeat your explanation for why you very suddenly need to depart, but the tips of Din’s fingers catch your chin and force you to look up at him.

“Hey,” he cuts your rambling short with a hushed murmur and the pad of his thumb brushes down your jaw.  “Tell me the truth.”

You don’t have an answer that won’t be incriminating, and you don’t think you can get the delivery right on a lie, not to him and especially not when he’s got you so cornered.  So you just keep completely silent and look up at him like a scolded child would.  Innocent, wide-eyed and scared shitless about the unknown consequences of your actions.

His helmet slowly tilts as he studies you, watching you look up at him for help.  His fingers gradually spread out across your jaw, flattening under the curve of your throat but so gentle, so careful that you’re almost worried he actually is mad.

“I’m sorry,” you immediately offer before he can say anything, your eyebrows pulling up in the middle.  “I’m so sorry, it’s just—I just…”

His thumb carefully stretches up to brush your bottom lip, and you…  Mind blank, no thoughts.  Stars, you’ve got fucking nothing.

“I’ve got nothing,” you admit, giving up before you can even try.  “There’s no reason.  I was jealous.  It’s stupid and I wasn’t going to say anything because I know it’s stupid, and I shouldn’t feel possessive over you but I do, and it’s stupid.  I don’t want anyone else to know you the way I know you, and I’m really sorry if that makes you feel weird, I don’t want you to feel like you can’t have—”

Your chin lifts slightly with the gentlest movement of his hand and the subtle pressure is enough to cut your mindless oversharing off.  Din’s voice lowers until it’s throaty and quiet.

“See that wall?”  He asks, keeping the visor pinned to you while carefully turning his hand to the right, and your whole head easily follows the movement as he guides it.  You have to blink your eyes into focus a few times, but then you immediately see what he’s talking about.  It’s a partition separating the welding room from the rest of the hangar.  He waits until you nod in the cradle of his palm, before leaning in and murmuring to you.  “If we were alone, I’d take you around behind it and show you exactly how that makes me feel.”

You pull back from him with a startled gasp just as a voice calls out from the entrance of the hangar.  “Well, look who finally decided to come back!”

Din slowly drops his arms and stares at you for just long enough to make you seriously worry that he’s going to say fuck it all and do it anyways, before finally turning around and greeting Peli with another silent nod.

She plants one hand on her hip once she’s standing right in front of him, cradling the kid on with her other arm, and you have to take a second to collect yourself now that you’re not at the direct center of his attention anymore.  “Sure did take you long enough, didn’t it?”

“I’m two days early,” he grunts in his immediate defense, but it’s like she doesn’t hear him.

“You’re leaving soon I hope,” she drawls while handing the baby over to him, who makes an adorable little happy squeak at seeing his dad again.  “You owe me five hundred credits.”

“It was five hundred for the full week,” he reminds her, and… he has a point.  Though it was never part of the agreement, you wonder if she’ll be willing to accept less compensation for having the burden of your company be lifted early.

“Five days count as a full week, far as I’m concerned,” she shoots back, and your heart suddenly sinks when Din’s shoulders tighten and he doesn’t respond.

“Peli…” you sigh from behind him before you even realize you’ve spoken aloud.

Your host quickly sidesteps your bodyguard to eye you dubiously, and at the same time, you also jolt and wonder what your goal is here exactly.  You’re ultimately just attempting to diffuse any tension sparking between them, you figure, knowing you’re probably the best mediator here.  She looks at you up and down for a long time, hard and judging, before the baby babbles something wordlessly and she sighs.

“I suppose we can just call it even,” she finally huffs, turning back to him.  “You’re lucky your girlfriend earned her keep, Mando.”

And then your jaw drops.  Holy shit, is she serious?  You assumed Peli valued credits above almost anything else, you never expected her to just… turn down the entire offer like that, so willingly.  Clearly Din didn’t either, because you both just stand there for a moment in front of her in a baffled silence.

Also… girlfriend?

Is that what you are to him?  Admittedly you haven’t talked to him about what to call your relationship, but then again, you’re a practical person and you never really saw a specific need to do so.  You care about him, he cares about you—what else is important?  You don’t need a title to recognize your value to him, and for some odd reason, calling yourself his “girlfriend” just feels like you’re a teenager again.  If you were actually looking for a different word to use instead, you wouldn’t be able to find it, but you know that one just feels… not enough.  Not old enough, not encompassing enough, not complex enough.  It’s an elementary school version of what this is.  And to refer to someone like Din as your boyfriend?  Maker, just saying it aloud would probably make his eye twitch.

“Uh.”  He stands there awkwardly, and you’re so blown away by both the sentiment and specific verbiage she used that you’re practically useless at this point.  Shit, what’s beyond girlfriend, you wonder?  Lover?  No, not good enough.  Partner?  No.  No, not wife, definitely fucking not—  “Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Peli waves him away and spins around to leave, but not before throwing one final thing over her shoulder.  “That ain’t an open invitation to come back, by the way.”

All of a sudden, you just can’t stop yourself from breaking out into a wide grin, tucking your chin in hopes that she won’t see it with her back turned and decide to pounce on the display of weakness.  The three of you watch her stride out of the room and immediately bark an order at one of her droids to get back to work, who starts looking around in desperate search of something to do, and Din’s palm finds its usual place on your lower back as she disappears.

“What a nice lady,” you offer to him, and he gives you a wordless grumble in response.

***

So it’s a couple hours later and you think the kid might actually have the right idea this time.

You find yourself wishing you had a little hover pod of your own that followed Din around, one you could close the lid on and hide in while blaster fire whistles through the air around you like the baby is currently doing.  You’re trying to listen to instructions—you’re trying, but there’s a lot going on here.  Voices chatting, guns firing, targets being pinged, a lively little band playing in the cantina next door.  

When Din first led you through Mos Eisley and inside this specific adobe hut, if you’re being completely honest, you had hoped for food.  A comparatively large restaurant, perhaps?  Peli didn’t starve you by any stretch of the imagination, but her dinners were the exact same every single night, and you’ve learned to thrive on new things.  While you didn’t necessarily think he was going to take you on a… a date, or anything, you certainly didn’t expect him to take you to a shooting range.

Well.  Now that you think about it, this might actually be a date.

Luckily you’re hidden away in the furthest firing partition from the door, but even without the near-constant barrage of gunfire to your left, the distractions are still plentiful.  The kid actually reached down and pressed the button to close his crib himself as soon as the bright beams of plasma started zooming past and reflecting in his large black eyes, and oh how you wish that were you.  You don’t necessarily feel like you’re in danger or anything, but you’ve also never seen so many guns in one place before and you’re worried you’re accidentally going to hurt someone else.

So far Din has taught you the fundamentals for any firearm—always keep the safety on until you’re ready to fire, never point at anything unless you’re a hundred percent willing to shoot it, yada yada yada—and also the safety fundamentals for blasters specifically.  So, making sure there’s no leaks in the gas cylinder when you first load it, never letting a strong magnet get near the power pack, checking the surface of your target for deflection curves if you want to prevent a ricochet, or maybe in his case, inspire one.  He’s taught you your stance, he’s taught you how to read your sights, now all that’s left is just to… shoot.

Your arms raise up in front of you and the metal feels too heavy and awkward in your hands, and you have to hold the handle in your left and creep your right index finger all the up the side of the barrel until you feel the indented safety switch.  It clicks and you reset your grip to slowly ease your finger onto the trigger, staring down the sight, right at the bullseye.  Din is standing directly behind you next to the kid’s tightly closed hovering pod, arms crossed and just waiting for you to pull it.

Come on beginner’s luck, come on beginner’s luck—

You fire, and… well.  You don’t think you’ve ever seen a shot miss its target that spectacularly in your entire life.  You’re almost surprised the beam of plasma didn’t somehow ricochet back into the booth you’re both standing in, that’s how spectacularly you missed.

“Try again.”

There’s no amusement in his voice, nothing mocking about it.  Pure monotone under the helmet, as if he was just naturally expecting that to happen.  

No, you think in frustration.  You want to surprise him again, impress him with how quickly you can pick things up, turn him on like last time.  You just fucking know that would get to him—seeing you easily hit the target dead center with his own blaster, you know that would get to him.

You adjust your aim and fire a few more times.  Miss, miss, wild miss, miss.  Fuck, so many distractions, plasma flying in the corner of your vision and an increasingly heavy gaze from behind you.  Another miss, a miss, yeesh that’s a miss—

Alright, so you're just embarrassing yourself at this point.

“I think it’s broken,” you shrug in defeat, taking a second to find the safety switch and toggle it before going to set the gun down on the raised adobe platform separating the line of booths from the targets—but then Din suddenly snatches the blaster from your grip and extends his arm over your shoulder, firing off six rounds in rapid succession so wickedly fast that you jump backwards into his rock solid chest in surprise.  He doesn’t give an inch under the collision and even wraps his forearm tight around your tummy as he hits the bullseye with such deadly accurate precision that even the char marks and the line of smoke left wafting from the target’s center are razor-thin.

“Works just fine,” he grunts, setting the weapon back down again before urging you forward a bit.  “Go ahead, give it another shot.”

But you’re on a remarkable delay, just trying to process his sheer speed, how fluid and seamless the entire fucking motion was.  Fucking Maker, blink and you’d miss the whole thing.  He waited to grab the gun from you until you turned the safety on, but then… then how did he fire it so insanely fucking fast?  That’s like five different things he had to do with one single hand within a split second…?

“I turned the safety on,” you blink down at the blaster, clearly just trying to process.

“Yeah,” he agrees blankly, as if he’s unsure as to what specifically you’re so stuck on right now.

“So how did you toggle so fas—?”

He picks it from the shelf gracefully and lightning quick—as if he just can’t help but go that speed around his weapon—and then he twists it on its side, flexing his wrist back until the barrel is pointed upwards and you can clearly see his index finger extend all the way up to the safety switch, flipping it up and down while his middle finger rests over the trigger guard.

“How in the f…?”  You mutter, lifting your hand up next to his and positioning your fingers in the exact same L shape, only the tip of your index finger barely stretches an inch shy of the switch.  “Psh,” you huff, dropping your arm back down again.  “Design flaw.”

“For you,” he acknowledges, using the trigger guard to flip it back to its proper position in his hand like fucking spinning it like that is just the easiest and most natural way to handle the deadly weapon.  “This gun was made for me, it’s a feature.  Yours would be smaller and lighter, have the safety towards the back of the chamber instead of along the barrel.”

The words and the casual display of ability cause a rush of stirring excitement to burst forth inside you, suddenly giddy at the very thought.

“Wait,” you draw the word out with a grin, leaning back into him and gently nudging him with your elbow to make sure he knows you’re only mostly joking.  “You gonna buy me a blaster, Mando?  I did earn my keep this week, didn’t I?”

“Have to find one that fits a big enough sight first,” he mutters while setting the gun down on the table, and you scoff at him as his hands come to rest on your hips.  They squeeze and try to guide you forwards once again.  “Prove that you can at least hit the target with mine and we’ll see.”

“You only get to make fun of me if you give me a real answer,” you rule, planting your feet and refusing to budge.

“Okay, but we both know I’ll make fun of you anyways,” he sighs, and you have to dig your heels in and push back into him to keep yourself rooted to the spot.

“You’re not being a very encouraging teacher,” you accuse without trying to hide your grin.  “In fact I feel very discouraged right now and I think that y—”

But then Din suddenly tips his helmet closer to your ear and lowers his voice, cutting you off.  “Did you know that gifting someone a weapon is considered a proposal of marriage on Mandalore?”

Your smile quickly drops and you gasp, wholly startled at the implication and immediately trying to spin around to look at him.  “Holy shit, are you serious?”

“No,” comes his modulated grunt, tightening his hold and keeping you firmly facing forwards.  “Of course not.  Pick up the gun.”

Okay.

Okay, so that one gets you.

You immediately start giggling, painfully aware that this isn’t the time or place for it, but that one actually fucking got you.  Din easily guides and parks your gullible ass in front of the window carved out of dried mud before picking up the blaster himself and forcing you to hold it with your loose hands, grumbling under his breath.

Shit, okay, focus.  Focus, you can do this.  You clear the laughter from your throat and suddenly get deadly serious, staring your target down like it’s personally gone out of its way to ruin your entire life.  The blaster feels cold in your palms but not when Din’s hands wrap warm and tight around the back of yours, letting you hold the gun how it’s most comfortable for you before gently settling his fingers down over yours.  His chestpiece presses tight against your shoulder blades when he guides the gun up and out, and his arms are long enough to extend yours fully even though he’s behind you and still has some bend to his elbows.  He uses his feet to kick your ankles apart until they’re shoulder-width and then you both carefully find the trigger together.

He’s quiet and slow about it and the whole thing is one giant fucking turn-on.  Maker, chill out.  Chill out, he’s teaching you how to shoot.  This is important stuff, there are people around, chill out…

Din takes a moment to aim the barrel and his hold is so fucking steady, so unwavering and strong.  You wonder if it’d be too obvious if you pushed your hips back a little, you might be able to feel his—

“Fire,” Din murmurs next to your ear, and you pull the trigger without a second thought.

The bright red plasma beam launches from the end of the blaster and hits the target dead center.  You gasp, pulling the trigger again, and unsurprisingly, it’s another perfect shot.

He suddenly lets go of your arms and takes a small step back, but the second he removes his body from yours, the rounds start bouncing wildly off the edges of the target.  Your eyebrows furrow and you try to emulate how you think the angle felt before, but you can’t find it anymore and you’re just failing spectacularly.

When you decide to pause for a second, Din steps up close behind you and wraps his arms around you once more.  You can feel the exact moment he’s locked in his aim, and you fire wordlessly as soon as you know it’s going to hit.  Bullseye, right on the nose.

This time, he lifts just his hands away from yours, staying perfectly still otherwise and you swear you don’t move a single fucking muscle in your entire body before pulling the trigger, but it still hits the far corner of the target.

“It’s broken,” you shrug once again, and Din drops his helmet to your shoulder with a sigh.  “This gun was made for you, which means there’s obviously some mod you have installed that reads biometrics and ruins the shot no matter how good it—”

“Not even close, but that’s not a bad idea,” he tells you, watching you click the safety on and set the uncooperative blaster down.  “I can’t figure out what you’re doing wrong.   Are you just distracted?”

Uh, fuck yeah you are.  So much is going on and more than that, he’s here and he’s just… fuck, you know what he meant when he said he felt like he was losing his mind.  He’s your biggest distraction, all the time.  He’s still standing so close to you and the baby is still isolated and tucked away in his hovering sphere, and you take a moment to think about it.  

Yes, it’s… it’s possible that you may learn better by example than anything else.

“Can I watch you do it?”  You ask him, and Din shrugs before reaching around you and quickly grabbing the blaster from its mud shelf.  “Wait—” you tell him while he raises and extends his arm over your shoulder, and then you wiggle sideways as much as possible in the small booth to squeeze around behind him.  He doesn’t say anything as you swap places with him and scoot up behind him, but you can tell by his body language that he’s confused.  You wonder if he liked that position and watching you shoot his gun, even if you’re complete shit at it.

He stands in front of you for a second and you give him an encouraging, “Okay,” to let him know you’re ready, but then the helmet turns back to look at the target like he’s still unsure as to what you want specifically.  You keep your mouth shut and let him figure it out.  You meant what you said—you want to watch him shoot.  You want to watch him where he’s infamous, watch him do what he’s best at and let completely loose in front of you.

As if it finally clicks for him, Din turns to face the target and suddenly throws the blaster into his left hand while reaching down and pushing a button hidden under the hollow platform with his right.  You have to lean around his broad shoulders to watch the target slide backwards on its track easily triple the distance before squeaking and slamming to a stop.  Din stretches his non-dominant hand out and subtly tilts his helmet before firing six times, easily hitting the bullseye with just as much accuracy as before, and you frown when you notice the only shots that have actually hit the target so far have all been dead center.

He sets the gun down and stands there for a second, staring across the range like it’s nothing at all to him and it’s… remarkable.  Not that he’s a wicked shot, you’ve known that the second you laid eyes on his armor all those months ago.  No, it’s just… you would think this is where he’d thrive, if anywhere.  The entire place is full of smugglers, raiders, scavengers, mercenaries—occupations that define themselves by their grit.  They’re talking as much as they’re shooting, conversing in languages you’ve never heard but suspect Din easily understands.  But instead of fitting in, he’s just… there.  He doesn’t look comfortable, but he also doesn’t look uncomfortable, either.  He doesn’t look like he’s having any fun at all.

None of this is considered a hobby to him, you suddenly realize.  It’s not fun because he’s too good at it.  This is life.  This is going back to school for the most basic fundamentals of a job he’s excelled at for decades—it’s not interesting, he’s gaining absolutely nothing from practicing.

You try to think of the last time you’ve seen him truly in his element.  You think back on all the different settings—he looked out of place on Canto Bight, got into fights on Corellia, hated Coruscant, seemed stressed on Nevarro, and even on Naboo, even in the middle of paradise, he looked unsure if he actually deserved to be there with you.  Now here on Tatooine, where he has real people that he trusts, where he’s surrounded by like-minded individuals shooting his favorite things in the world, it’s like he’s still not able to fully let go.

Is it just you, you wonder?  Does he stand out more just because you’re the one looking?

No, you think.  No.  You have seen him relax.  You’ve seen him laugh before, you’ve seen him be himself with you.  

But… only with you.  A hardened bounty hunter that much prefers the company of a young woman and an infant to literally anyone else in the galaxy.

Fuck.  Why does that turn you on so fucking much?  It’s the display of prowess, the sheer skill he’s developed, how fucking deadly he is—and how you’ve felt him use that trigger finger to trace slow circles around your clit.  The Mandalorian standing with his blaster raised has probably been the last thing too many people have ever seen in their lifetimes, and yet watching from this angle just makes you feel protected, guarded, and… so fucking horny for him.

“Do it again,” you eventually murmur, touching both your palms to his back this time just to feel it.  You want to feel him shoot, you want to feel his muscles move with it.  You want to touch how mechanically he’s able to aim, you want to know if he’s loose or tense when he fires, you just want to… feel it.

Din grabs the gun and as he extends his arms out, you slide your hands up his back to rest under his shoulders.  He’s so broad, he feels so warm and strong, and his trigger releases are so steady that nothing above his wrists move.

Shit, before he’s even finished setting the blaster back down again, you’re already scooting up behind him as close as possible and carefully slithering your arms around his waist, hugging your body tight to his back.  Din stays completely still while your mouth presses against the fabric of his cape and your hands begin to slowly slide down his stomach.

He doesn’t say a damn thing, which makes it even hotter for some reason.  There’s no warning he gives you, no low growl of your name or sweet girl being dragged through the modulator.  He stays completely silent and holds there while blasters continue to fire from stalls to your left, and it gives you the thrill of your lifetime.  Big strong man holding perfectly still for you to touch in the middle of a crowded room.

Your hand slips under his waistband and sink down low until you can trail your fingertips along his cock, hidden from sight beneath the edge of the clay shelf.  The small sound you make at feeling it already firm and at attention for you gets lost in the noise of the shooting range, but you wrap your palm around it and give it a good, slow pull upwards, feeling Din’s back expand with a breath from the sensation.

“Do it again,” you whisper into his shoulder blade, slowly playing with his cock in his pants with one hand while keeping the other wrapped tight around his abdomen.

Din immediately snatches the blaster off the platform and fires it the very moment he takes aim, and you can feel his cock pulse in your palm as he lets off the shots.  Dead center, as always, but he clunks the metal back down with a bit more force this time and then lingers his fingertips at the sloped edge of it for a second, as if he’s considering whether or not he should hold onto it.  

You’re already wet between your legs, but it gets worse the longer he allows you to keep doing this.  His skin is furnace-hot and he throbs for you, and you trail your thumb up to check—oh, Maker, he’s leaking for you, too.  You drag the pad of your thumb over the tip and gently rub the wetness along the curve of his head, before easing back down to give the shaft another slow pull.

A quiet puff of air comes through the vocal filter, but that’s all you audibly get out of him.  Still, it’s more than enough to fill you with a wicked heat and a desperate desire for more.  So you bite your lip and glance around just to double-check that nobody else has wandered over behind you and the kid is still tucked away in his crib, probably passed out in the secluded darkness at this point.  And then you barely take a split-second to consider it before your knees are bending and you’re slowly sinking down the length of his body.

Din is a fucking statue.  He doesn’t do anything to allow your wiggling underneath the raised platform anymore than he widens his stance to prevent it.  Once you’re on your knees in front of him in the dim isolation of your hiding spot though, he takes a single step forward and pins his waist to the hardened clay above your head, and a thrill skitters through you at being completely walled in on all four sides.

You reach up to hook your fingertips in his hem of his trousers and begin pulling them down, so tight and achy between your legs that you want to shove your hand down between them already.  You don’t though, not yet, because you need two hands to be extra careful in getting his cock out.  You don’t even want the fabric of his pants to touch it, you want your mouth to be the only sensation he knows here.

At the very last second, you decide to pull the waistband down far enough to let his balls rest outside the confining clothing, getting increasingly hotter at the thought that this isn’t going to be sneaky and dirty, even if you’re in public.  Din’s wide stance and the floor-length cape hide you perfectly from any prying eyes behind his back, so it’s going to be soft and it’s going to be slow and he’s going to be comfortable while you go down on him.

Your mouth is already watering, so you bend down just slightly and lift your chin to gently drag your tongue along the smooth skin of his balls before anything else.  Honestly—you don’t think he’s expecting you to go there first, because his whole body suddenly jerks at the velvet soft sensation between his legs and you let out a low hum in response.  He can’t reach you down here unless he tries to, so you scoot your knees up a little bit and just decide to go for it.  This way he won’t be able to get it confused, he won’t pull you out from under here halfway through when you suck on his balls before anything else.  This is what you want from him, what’s right here in your mouth.

You switch to the other one and Din twitches with a filtered breath, the skin already tightening up and responding gorgeously under your tongue.  His hand hovers somewhere near the raised platform above your head, fingers curling in his leather gloves and caught right between stopping you and letting you continue.  While he allows it, you ease your way up and make it just tantalizing enough to make him ache without providing any real stimulation, slowly trailing your tongue up the length of his cock and pressing plush lips to the flared head.

Din exhales a shakily while you take your time, tasting the precum as his body produces it, just kissing and licking and purposefully refusing to touch him with anything besides your mouth.  Without being able to see the rest of him from this angle, you're left to your own devices—you’re so gentle and soft about the pleasure that you start to separate the man from the throbbing erection you’re currently playing with.  You begin to enjoy yourself without thinking too much about the struggle he must be withstanding right now, you moan softly against his heated skin even though you know you’re being a tease at the worst possible moment, but no matter how you decide to take your time with it, Din continues to allow it.  He endures.  Silent, perfectly still, until you eventually decide to wrap your lips around the head of his cock and flutter your tongue up underneath it.

But then he jumps and your eyes open when a deep, unkind voice from the stall to your left calls out, “Hey, Mando!  Gonna fuckin’ shoot or just stand there, huh?”

You can hear his immediate frustration in the blaster scraping against the shelf over your head, and you moan softly around his cock the second you feel him tense and start firing.  The smooth skin pulses on your tongue and you slide your fingers around the backs of his knees, opening your throat and slowly taking him deeper.  

And, for a man that has repeatedly fired six perfect shots every single time he picks up his gun, he falters after just three this time.

The heat of your mouth must be too overwhelming.  Too fucking good, too detrimental to his focus and composure to even perform the most basic tasks he typically excels at.  Like a seasoned mathematician that suddenly struggles to count to ten, a renowned author that can’t recite their ABC’s—Mando can’t even fire a weapon right now and it’s all because of you.  

He has to keep trying though, he has to make an actual effort now that you both know someone nearby is paying at least some sort of attention to his performance.  The sound of more plasma arcing through the air over your head slowly disappears into the background in a way that it never could while you were the one firing—you’re completely hidden and safe down here, you can moan low in your throat while keeping your hands around his knees and begin to bob your head without another thought or worry whatsoever.  Handling it is all on him.  He just needs to stay quiet, be still, and shoot his gun.  It should be the simplest thing in the galaxy for him, right?

Wrong.  So wrong.  You hear the way the bolts are pinging off the sides of the target now, you listen to him grunt and let off a few more shots that also sound like they miss.  Your soft palate lifts and you’re practically drenching yourself at how wide he stretches your throat while you take him down as far as you can, and there’s a moment where you’re holding there and you think about doing something about the dull ache throbbing between your legs.  But once you pull off him for air and automatically touch your drooling tongue to your palm, you decide this is what you want more.

Your slick hand wraps around his cock and starts to slowly jerk him off while your mouth moves down to attach to his balls once more, your touch gliding strong and wet along his entire length.  Din almost doubles over into the platform, his hips stuttering up for the first time at the hard stimulation you’re finally giving him.  His skin swells and tightens in your mouth—you can feel the tension locking his thighs down, you can hear the shots above you start to decrease in frequency, and you know he’s already close.

So you move back up to suck on the head of his cock again and slowly swirl your tongue around it, continuing to use your hand to pull steady and firm on the rest of his shaft, and you just close your eyes and wait for him to give you what you want.  His firing soon stops altogether and you squeeze your finger between your thighs and press hard against your clit, just needing to relieve some of the ache.  You keep doing that, you keep drawing circles with your tongue while slowly jerking the rest of him off into your mouth, and at some point, it all just becomes too much for him.

“Shit,” Din gasps, along with the sudden sound of metal skittering against the clay above you, and your eyes pop open in surprise.  “Ah, sh—shhhhh—”

Maker, did he just drop his fucking gun?

You start to pull back, but then suddenly a trembling hand shoots down and clutches tight under your throat, hooking hard behind your jaw to make sure you stay right there.

His cock starts throbbing and he shudders, slamming his other palm on the shelf and cumming hard in your mouth.  You’re already swallowing before he even gives you anything but Maker, you’re fucking desperate for it that your hand moves to curl your fingers against the exposed skin at his hips as if that’ll somehow help you get it sooner.  The first taste of him comes as soon as you dig in and drag your nails down his flesh, and Din is helpless to do anything else besides clutch your jaw tight and gasp raggedly while emptying himself down your throat.

He shakes and shudders and you don���t spill a single drop, clutching his hips and pulling him close to keep him in your mouth, and as he slowly comes down from that plateau, you lick every inch of him clean.  His fingers gradually lose their rigidity around your jaw and eventually, his fingers drop down to press gently against your throat while his hips pull back.

He slips from your mouth and you wipe the wetness from your chin, staring up at his cock wistfully and almost wanting to keep going.  Is that fucked up, you wonder?  What would he think?

He hasn’t moved yet, why isn’t he moving?  Your job is clearly finished here, no matter what kind of way you may feel about that.  The coast must not be clear, you have to assume.  Perhaps someone is wandering around behind him, maybe he’s still being cautious about the nosy person next door—all you know is that you can tell he wants to move but he isn’t, which likely means he can’t.  You know his cock must be so unbelievably sensitive right now, but he’s not easing his body back far enough away from the shelf to tuck it into his pants.  He’s keeping it right in front of your face and expecting you to stay there until he deems it appropriate for you to get up.

The longer you wait for him to step back and let you out from under here, the more your need sparks and grows.  What would he think?  That you’re so desperate for his cock that you still want it in your mouth even when it’s soft and spent?  Maker, he’d be fucking right on the money.

At some point, you can’t stop yourself.  You lean back up to slowly take his soft cock back in your mouth, and Din nearly spasms while you slip your hand under your waistband and widen your knees.

You don’t do anything spectacular to it—you’re not that cruel—but you do hold him on the heat of your tongue and keep him there, fluttering your eyes closed as your finger finally touches your clit.  Air puffs shakily through your nostrils and you think Din is actually shaking harder than you are, his body fighting oversensitivity while yours starts the race towards bliss.  He doesn’t stop you but it also feels like he’s purposefully trying not to, like everything in him is rebelling against the wet heat of your mouth but knowing you’re only doing this because you’re so painfully turned on.  You’re doing this because you need it, in spite of the electric shocks of wicked sensation it seems to be inspiring in him.

Your finger speeds up and you start gently sucking on the warm, giving flesh, and his hand trembles as it grabs at your hair.  Fuck, you don’t care if he thinks you’re desperate—you want him to recognize it, you want him to know exactly how much you love his cock—

That thought sends a dark thrill down your spine and pleasure burns bright and needy where you’re still rubbing your clit, dropping your hips and rolling them forwards against your hand.  And oh, your only lament is that you wish he was the one doing this.  You wish Din was building your pleasure instead of letting you use his body in search of your own, you wish it was his hand working between your legs and about to shove you over that ledge, but then again.  Something about this whole fucking scene is just so… undignified.  Debased.  And you’re getting off on it, quicker than you ever thought possible.

When you cum, you’re good and you don’t make a single sound when you cum.  You squeeze your eyes shut and your entire body jolts with every single shattering wave of ecstasy, and Din tugs a handful of your hair and slowly rocks his hips once, twice, fucking your mouth while you endure wildfire burning through your veins.  By the time you finish convulsing on the fucking floor of a Tatooinian gun range, you know you can go for another and probably get it equally as quick as that one, but Din is already pulling his cock out of your mouth and shoving it back into his pants.  You’re like jelly as your elbow is immediately caught in his arm and you’re hauled up from your hiding spot, dazed and disoriented.

The chrome visor stares you down and you want to shrink in on yourself, thinking he’s going to take your happy ass back to the Crest.  You should be in trouble, you know you should be in trouble.  Leaving the recesses of your dark cubby and coming face to face with your surroundings brings a brand new clarity to light—you totally should not have done any of that.  He was trying to teach you, for Maker’s sake.  He was taking the time to show you the valuable knowledge he’s gained regarding weaponry and self-defense.  Fuck, you even told him on Naboo that you wanted to shoot a gun, and he brought you here to do just that.

Except then he just spins you around and picks up the blaster from the adobe ledge in front of you, placing it firmly in your hands.

“Okay,” he pants quietly next to your ear, breathing hard and shallow through the helmet.  “Now you should be able to focus, right?”

Fuck…  Fuck, is he serious?  You can barely hold the damn thing, you’re shaking so hard.  How does this work again?  What does this do?

“Wh-What?”  You croak—fuck, your voice is gone.  “I… I can’t—”

“Try,” he encourages, helping your comparatively tiny hands flip off the safety but other than that, stepping back and leaving you to it.  Completely and hopelessly lost, you weakly twist around to watch him stand next to the kid’s closed metallic shield.  “Hit the target,” Din reiterates with a nod, trying to catch his breath.  “You can do it.”

You look back out with unfocused eyes to see it still all the way on the far end of its track, and there’s just absolutely no fucking way.  “I… can’t.”

“Hit the target and we can go home,” he tells you, and while you don’t exactly know what home is anymore, something tells you it’s somewhere in hyperspace.  A resting baby, a metal floor, a pitch black hull, and your cheek pressed against a warm chest.

It sounds… wonderful.

Inspiring a newfound kind of desire in you, you lift your arms as best you can and work so, so hard to keep them steady.  The target is in your sights and you do your absolute best—fuck, you really do, but you pull the trigger and the shot sadly bounces off the edge.

You drop your hands, already defeated and drained.  “I can’t.”

“Hit the target and I’ll buy you a blaster,” he ups the ante, and you instantly lift your dead arms again.  Fuck, come on, come on, you can do this.

You shoot.  Nope.  So you shoot again.  And then you shoot again, and again, minutely adjusting your wrists purely based on where the bright red plasma is landing and ignoring the scope entirely.

“A nice one,” he continues over the pew pew pew of you just continuing to fucking miss, fucking miserably, over and over again.  “Expensive.  Hand-crafted, one of a kind…”

Miss, miss, miss, and—no.  Just, no.  There’s only so much glaring failure you can take before you snap.  You finally stop shooting and growl in frustration, going to slam the metal down on its resting place.  “Mando, I ca—”

“Hit the target and I’ll marry you,” he says quietly, and you freeze just before impact.

… What?  N… No…

Miraculously, you somehow manage to calmly switch the safety on and set the blaster down before turning back to see the helmet staring at you, unmoving.

You… you know it must just be a joke, right?  Just a stupid extension to the one he made earlier, it must be.  You blink dumbly at him and flick your gaze between the visor and two large black eyes staring at you from the crib, wondering if you glitched or if you’re just hallucinating.

“Uh…” you hear yourself say, even though you’ve got absolutely nothing, but Din doesn’t offer anything else to fill in the gaps of your startled misunderstanding.  If you didn’t have such a wild fucking reaction to the words, you'd probably wonder if he actually said them or not—that’s how much he gives away.  Silent, so unbelievably silent when you’re begging him to give you at least something.  Is he messing with you again?  Is he just that confident that you’re going to fail?

It takes forever for you to turn back around and face the target, but you eventually do when he refuses to elaborate.  Your heart slams in your chest and you wonder what you’re doing even attempting this.

The moment you lift your trembling arms is the moment you know your heart is pounding too fast—your finger twitches with the wild rush of blood flow and you end up pulling the trigger way before you’re ready.  You fire before you’ve checked your sights, you fire before you’ve taken any sort of aim whatsoever, you fire spontaneously enough to surprise even yourself and it—

—it hits dead center.

Your stomach drops and a jolt of some rabid feeling punches through you, you have no idea what it is.  You whip around so fast that you get dizzy, seeing him standing there, completely still.

“That was just beginner’s luck,” you quickly reassure him, suddenly feeling faint.  Holy shit, holy shit, what the fuck just happened?  “Listen—hey, no, listen, I can’t get it again,” you explain shrilly to the utterly dead silence from him.  “Look, watch this, double or nothing.”

You spin back around, well aware that absolutely nothing about what you just said or what just happened made any fucking sense at all.  Beginner’s luck when you’ve been consistently awful at this, telling him repeatedly to listen when you’re very, very fucking aware he hasn’t said anything, double or nothing on a literal proposal as if double marriage is something that actually exists?

No.  Shut up.  Don’t even think that word, don’t think about fucking anything.  Fire, fire without thinking, just lift the gun and pull the trigger—

You do, and oh.  Oh, no.

“Uh?!”  Your voice comes out on a squeak, now in a complete fucking panic.  What the fuck?  No fucking way.  Perfect, perfect, the odds are fucking astronomical—another deadly accurate shot.  “Ah, um, okay, scratch everything I said—th-third time’s a charm?”

Wide-eyed and having absolutely no clue what you’re doing at this point, you fail to see Din slowly turn his helmet down and to the right as he stands behind you.  You go to lift your arms and pull the trigger, but then he suddenly reaches out lightning-quick and bumps your elbow upwards at the very last second.  

The abrupt push causes your shot to be angled off course spectacularly and you can’t do anything but look up and gasp in horror, worried it’s going to ricochet off the ceiling and land somewhere this building isn’t architecturally designed to absorb.  There’s just enough time to wildly wonder why the fuck he did that—

—but then, like pure magic before your eyes… the beam of plasma adjusts itself in midair.  

It fucking bends.  Across the length of your entire firing lane, it curves in a downward trajectory and hits the target with absolutely impossible physics.

Your jaw fucking drops and you whip your body around in dumb shock to see Din staring hard at the closed shield next to him.

… that’s not closed.

The baby tilts his head at you and coos happily, one ear tipping up while the other tips down, and you’re completely blown away.  Not only at the entirely unexpected demon-power display, but what specifically he was hoping to get out of it.  You’re still stuck, blinking down at the adorable little goof with abilities you’ll never understand.

Only, a hand suddenly grabs yours and drags you back to yourself.

“We need to leave,” Din says quietly, switching the lid shut on the hovering crib and pushing it towards the booth’s exit while tugging you along behind him.  “I don’t know how many people saw that, we need to leave.”

Sure enough, voices in the next partition over start picking up, likely the only ones in here who had a good enough angle to watch the physically unthinkable shot somehow meet its target, and your adrenaline quickly begins pumping while you keep your head down and power-walk your ass to the door.  You don’t know the kind of consequences that could potentially arise from others witnessing the kid’s literal sorcery, but you know you’d rather not take the chance.  The voices start growing louder as you three make your quick escape, beginning to ask others around them if they just saw that, but you’re already out of the rectangular adobe structure and long gone by the time anybody steps out of their panels to hear the uproarious accusations of cheating beginning to fly.

***

Stay tuned for the next part!

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin #din djarin x you #star wars #fanfic #reader insert #no-droids

[alice-angel12x]

Naga! BakuDekuShoto X (fem)Mermaid!Reader

Part 2. Here

Y/n is warned to never go near the surface by her pod. She's been going near the surface every night and very early at dawn, sunrise to relax, sing, watch the sunset. Being a mermaid had its many blessing and curses. They were creatures of great beauty and magic, from their beautiful voices to the powerful magic in just a single tear. So naturally, they were secretive creatures.

A great lake deep in the forest of Atigus, a large pod of Merpeople lived in this lake. A lake so deep it could have been mistaken for the deepest part of the ocean. Living so far down in the deeps, they were a bit isolated from the many magical and grand creatures that also inhabit the forest.

Yet Y/n was a curious individual and would swim near the surface, in hopes of seeing another creature. Thought she was smart enough to know that there is one creature that she must avoid at all costs, Man. Yet She would brave the bright surface, and sing out to no one in particular.

One day as she ventured to the surface at sunset, she began to sing into the wind. As she rested on the lake's edge, she suddenly felt a painful sting on her shoulder. Y/n gasped in pain, but her body became so heavy suddenly and lost all control. As she laid there motionless, as she heard the snicker and the strange language of humans.

The humans quickly slumped the unconscious mermaid onto their backs and tried to find their way back to the village. Yet as they walked down the path, they could feel predatory eyes watching them.

As one of the humans looked around, they noticed that special markings were etched into the tree's around them.

"Oh no, we have walked into Naga territory," one of the humans gasped in horror.

As the two trembled, a large shadow engulfed them. The tallest stood up to 9 feet in height, standing above them, while the shortest stood 7 feet. They couldn't begin to fathom how long these nagas could be. These giants glared down at the small humans that had invaded their territory.

Dealing with the humans was simple, yet something did catch one of their eyes. The smaller green naga noticed the abandoned creature on the ground.

"What is that?" The freckled naga wondered.

"It looks like to be a humanoid creature like us," a red and white naga commented as he leaned over the mermaid.

"Yet, it's not. Its scales look strange and its tail is so short, it's the same size as those pathetic humans," The ashy blond Naga scoffed as he picked the mer by her tail.

"K-kacchan! Careful," the green-haired naga gasped.

"Why does it look like part fish?" The red and white naga asked, " You should be careful, Bakugo."

"Whatever, Deku," Bakugo scoffed, as he tossed the body over to green Naga.

"Nice catch Midoriya," The red and white naga commented.

"Thanks, Shoto," Izuku sighed as he got a closer look at the creature.

"So what do you think it is?" Shoto asked.

" It must be some water-faring creature, other than that I'm not sure," Izuku said as he held the mermaid close. " It would be nice to speak to her about it. Maybe I could hold onto her, F-for a  little while."

"Why?" Shoto asked.

"Probably cause this will be the only female that can't walk out on him for better a mate," Bakugo commented.

"I think you may be projecting a little, Bakugo," Shoto commented.

Bakugo scoffed and slithered off somewhere else, as Izuku and Shoto stood in awkward silence.

"S-so does that mean I can? N-Not for the reason that he said!" Izuku said quickly.

"I'd... Certainly hope not," Shoto said simply.

_________________________

As Y/n slowly came to her senses, she could feel something odd. As she slowly opened her eyes, she noticed that this body of water was barely deep. Plus something was wrapped around her, it felt strange.

She slowly opened her eyes, to see that the surface of the water was just a foot above her head. And wrapped around her waist was a tail, a snake tail. Y/n tensed slightly, but the creature felt her movement and quickly tightened its hold.

She was suddenly pulled up above the surface and was face to face with a freckly face with forest green eyes.  His eyes were full of wonder and curiosity as he inspected Y/n very closely.

Y/n wanted to scream, yet remained frozen. Not only was she unsure of this creature, but also intimidated by its great size. She never felt so small and helpless.

"what are you? And who are you?" Deku asked as he muttered other questions.

"A-a mermaid, my name is Y/n," Y/n squeaked nervesly.

"Ah, like an Oceanid," Izuku smiled." I-i have to write this down, I have so many questions."

As his tail wraps more around Y/n, she watches as the snake man turns to gather his parchment paper. They were covered in writings and notes about almost anything. Before Y/n could get a grasp of what was happening, she was drowned in the naga's curious questions. He must have not been paying too much attention as he tightened his hold.

"C-can't...Breath," Y/n whimpered as she passed out.

------------- Deku suddenly felt Y/n go slack, he stopped rambling and quickly looked at her.

"AHh! Y/n," Izuku gasped as he quickly placed her back in the small watering hole.

"Oi, killed it already," Bakugo laughed mockingly.

"N-no, Y/n passed out," Izuku said nervesly.

"So what is she?" Shoto asked as he tried to get a better look.

"An Oceanid, but she calls herself a mermaid," Izuku said as he put down his notes.

"Hmm, well what were those humans doing with one?" Shoto asked.

"Probably harvest her for magical properties. If they can't possess magic on their own, then they will take it," Bakugo scoffed simply.

"Well, I'm glad we came across those humans then," Izuku said with a relieved sigh.

___________

After a couple of weeks, Y/n grew used to Izuku and his curiosity. She would learn many things about him, that he was defiantly a curious Naga and a very emotional one. Will cry a river at any strong emotion he feels. Y/n could only hope that this small pool of water was not his tears. She would learn a bit about his other two companions.

Bakugo is the most prideful and skilled of the three. Always going off how he will be the best and rise the ranks among their kind. Shoto on the other hand seemed very calm out of the three. Almost to the point where he seemed indifferent about everything, though he takes everything very seriously.

Izuku would also learn a lot about her and her home in the great lake. How they knew many great magical treasures and plants within Atigus. It was just so fascinating to him, and it felt so nice to have someone discuss the magical phenomena with him.

As Y/n rested in Izuku's coils, a question came to mind.

"Hey Izuku, you've been so sad as of late. What is making you so sad?" Y/n asked.

"Um, it's a little embarring to talk about, but... The season of union is coming to an end soon. And during this time Nagas begin to pair and bond, and we bond for life. Sadly a girl I had my heart set in already bonded with someone else. So I may just end up being unpair," Izuku explained.

"What about Bakugo and Shoto?" Y/n asked.

"Well, most are annoyed or frightened by him, and would rather stay far away from him. And Shoto, has a bit of a hard time, umm, connecting to others," Izuku said slowly and awkwardly.

"Oh, well I'm sorry to hear that. I can't see why you would not find someone. Your sweet and so kind," Y/n smiled as she rested her harms on his coils.

Izuku's face turned a bright red as his tail tightened slightly. His heart fluttered in his chest as he stared down at his Oceanid friend.

"Y-you really think so?" Izuku mumbled, as his eyes watered.

"Despite your timid nature, you are willing to help though in need. Even if they may not deserve it," Y/n smiled up at him.

"Thank You Y/n," Izuku thanked as he cried waterfalls as hugged Y/n closely.

"Though you can be a bit of a cry baby," Y/n winced as she was drenched in tears.

But he didn't hear the last comment as he hugged her close.

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

"Shouldn't you be returning Y/n to the great lake, Surely she would like to return to her home and family," Izuku's friend Iida asked.

As the two patrolled the large Naga territory. Izuku's heart began to thump in his chest in a panic at the thought. The thought had many times came across his mind, but the thought of parting with her. Tore his heart apart.

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

"Oh, you're still here?" Shoto asked as he entered the cave.

"Umm, have been for this past Month Shoto," Y/n said as she poked her head above the water.

"Izuku must hold you dearly if he hasn't returned you home yet," Shoto said as he found a comfy spot and laid down.

"Y-you think so?" Y/n asked nervesly.

"Hmm, don't you miss your family? I'm surprised you haven't asked him to return you," Shoto commented.

As Y/n studied him, she could feel something about those words. Like it wasn't just meant for you to answer.

"Are Nagas not close to their parents?" Y/n asked.

"Um, not all, but most," He said with a slightly sad look.

"What about you, if it's not too personal?" Y/n asked.

Shoto stayed silent for a time, as he slowly touched the burn on his face. " I could care less what my father is up to, but I... I do wonder how my mother is doing after she ran away from me and my dad," Shoto said sadly.

"W-why would she do that?" Y/n gasped.

"She said my left side and red scales looked too much like my horrible father. She burned the left side of my face and ran," Shoto answered as he covered his scar. " I was too horrible for her to look at."

Y/n frowned sadly at his story and pulled herself up onto the dry ground. She slowly approached Shoto's tail as she awed at his lovely scales.

"Your white scales shine like pearls, and the red ones look like rubies, your so lovely, Shoto," Y/n said in a soft tone.

Shivers ran up his spine as he felt the warm fingers slide across his scales. His heart pounded in his chest as he slowly coiled his tail around her.

"Y-you couldn't possibly mean that," Shoto said slowly.

"Of course I do. You know if you smiled more, maybe the ladies or gentlemen would flock to you," Y/n smiled.

"Flock? Like... Birds?" Shoto asked, really confused.

"No silly, I mean many would find you more approachable," Y/n laughed.

Her laugh was so small and cute, he could help but tighten his hold on her. He could feel her warmth on his scales as he slowly leaned in closer to her.

"If you're doing what I think you're doing, then you two are disgusting," Said a voice.

The two quickly turned to see Bakugo, who came back from a hunting outing. A large boar was slung over his shoulder as he entered the cave.

"Find a different part of the cave to suck each other's face," Katsuki grumbled.

"Why would we do that?" Shoto asked with pure confusion.

"Cause It's decent," Bakugo growled.

"No, why would we suck each other's faces?" Shoto asked again.

"I'm done with you," Bakugo scoffed.

_____________

Shoto and Izuku had to eventually leave to do a final scout turn, leaving Bakugo and Y/n. Bakugo had no interest in talking to the mermaid and did his own thing, by cooking the boar he caught. Y/n with nothing to do hummed to herself, her voice echoing off the walls of the cave.

"So you were the source of that voice," Bakugo said suddenly.

"Ummm... I was right next to you. How did you not know until now?" Y/n asked with a deadpanned look.

"No, every time around sunset I could hear something in the wind. A voice, singing," Bakugo said simply.

"Oh, I thought I was just singing to myself," Y/n said bashfully.

"More like to the whole forest," Bakugo huffed.

"Was I okay?" Yn asked slowly.

"You were definitely better than those harpies who think they can sing," Bakugo scoffed, turning away to hide his red ears.

"That is so sweet of you to say," Y/n said, slightly touched.

"Tch. Well, I don't really care for the noise of rain, you can keep doing what you were doing," Bakugo said slowly.

Y/n smiled at the tsundere naga and continued her song.

_________________

(3 weeks later)

Y/n and the three nagas grew closer and closer during the 3 weeks. The season of Union was quickly coming to a close, but tensions were high among the three males.

One morning, Shoto had his tail wrapped protectively around Y/n's sleeping form when he heard a soft but challenging hiss. Looking up sightly he could see it was Izuku. Izuku's usual large round pupils were now slits, as his serpentine tongue flicked between his lips.

"Yes, Izuku?" Shoto asked coldly.

"Your turn to patrol soon, maybe you should let her go now," Izuku said as nicely as possible, as he slowly inched closer.

Shoto tensed as Izuku slowly got closer. Shoto's pupils quickly turned to slits as he hissed back. Y/n was unable to sleep through the loud noises coming from the two.

"What's with all the noise," Y/n groaned sleepily, as she untangled herself from Shoto's coils.

"Would you shut it you two," Bakugo growled, as he pulled Y/n's sleepy form closer to him.

"B-bakugo, careful," Izuku hissed.

"I am," Bakugo said simply.

"Don't you both have someplace to be?" Izuku said with a slight hiss.

"W-what are you all fighting about?" Y/n asked, slightly more awake.

________________________

Pt.2 maybe?! I don't know

#naga au #mha bakugou #Mha #Bnha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #Naga Izuku #mha izuku #izuku midoria x reader #izuku midoriya #shoto torodoki #shoto x reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #naga bakugou #Naga shoto #fantasy au

[rainydayathogwarts]

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 >> 𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒

Second person p.o.v Warnings: well the title says some stuff Characters: Tony, Steve, Bucky, Thor, Clint, Peter(s), Pietro, Stephen, Sam A/N: This had to go under some editing before I have the courage to post it on here because honestly, it's either that I've read my works so much and feel nothing anymore or that it's genuinely trash. Also can someone please explain why people don't like peter quill/chris pratt please

-Tony Stark: "341... 342... 343..." You counted your pushups under your breath. You and Tony had made a bet: he thought Steve could do more pushups than you could, but in the heat of the moment, you bet otherwise. Now, you were obviously regretting your choice.

There you were with Steve in the living room, the rest of the Avengers watching you guys in amazement. The only thing that stopped you from winning against the super soldier was that you didn't have superhuman strength. At least you trained with one everyday. Right?

You felt your body stiffening and tiring as you continued with your pushups. You lowered your body one last time, chest hovering above the ground, but you couldn't find the energy to lift yourself up again. Steve glanced at you with a small smile on his face, watching as you struggled.

You groaned, falling to the cold floor, listening to Tony cheer, helping Steve up in joy. "You good there (Y/N)?" Asked Steve, walking over to you, giving you a hand. You glared at him, getting up on your own, making him laugh.

"You know you did better than any of us could have. That's 352 pushups in a row." Natasha praised, making you roll your eyes. "Yes, but it doesn't mean I couldn't have done better. Anyway, let's be real. Bucky is also a supersoldier, so me beating me is out of the question. He's just as strong as Steve-if not stronger."

You sauntered over to you and Tony's shared room with him right on your tail. You didn't bother closing the door behind you before taking off your shirt.

You gasped when you were pushed against the wall roughly, your sweaty body making contact with another one. " Good gods, what could you possibly want Tony?" You questioned, looking up. "You." He breathed out, leaning down to kiss your neck, sucking softly on the skin. Shivers ran down your spine at the sultry tone, and just as you were about to speak up again, he kissed your lips with hunger and need.

As if on instinct, your hands travelled to the nape of his neck, playing with the short hairs. He deepened the kiss, but it was abruptly cut short when the door burst open. "I-uh, sorry-I-um, water?" "You can put that right over there. Yeah, thanks Steve."

-Steve Rogers: You and Steve were huddled up on a couch in his apartment, watching Jurassic Park. He took a quick look at you, so focused on the movie, your lip tightly tucked between your teeth. You cuddled closer to your loving boyfriend who held you tighter, the cold getting to your bones.

"Honey, do you want me to close the window?" He asked you, already getting up. You got hold of his hand, tugging him down, your eyes never leaving the bright screen. "No, stay." He smiled and kissed your soft lips, getting your shiny lip gloss on himself.

"Um, you got something right there. Let me get it for you." You muttered, getting on your knees to kiss him once more. He chuckled against your lips, flipping you over so you were laying down on the couch. You threw your shirt off, Steve doing the same.

Just as Steve reached down to slide his shorts off, yours already long gone, the door burst open, two loud voices interrupting your moment. Two wolf-whistles caught your attention, your heads snapping in their direction. At the sight of Sam and Bucky, you pushed Steve off of you with such force he fell to the ground.

You rushed to put your shorts and shirt back on but they were at Sam's feet, so you stayed hidden behind the couch. "Nice gloss Steve. Where'd you get it from?" Started Bucky. "Oh right, never mind, where'd you get it from (Y/N)?" Sam slammed his hand on Bucky's back as they both broke down laughing. "Remind me why we gave them a key?"

-Bucky Barnes: Bucky wasn't exactly having the best day. The both of you had gone to one of your favourite coffee shops when your ex just happened to bump into you. "(Y/N)? Oh wow." And with that he started rambling off about his life, flirting with you, even with Bucky standing beside you.

You politely told him you had to go, feeling awfully sorry that Bucky had to deal with that. When you got back to the Avengers Compound, Natasha had immediately called you in for some work, leaving your boyfriend to sit in your shared bedroom all alone on his day off.

He wanted to kill your ex. Quite literally. So much that he even found his address. So when you entered your room, you didn't have the time to kick your shoes off before you were pressed up against the wall, with Bucky's lips hungrily attacking yours. You obviously kissed him back, hands pulling him closer to you by the shoulders.

When the door opened, Natasha dropped the file she was holding and her jaw slacked. Bucky closed the door shut with a growl, holding it there with his metal arm, his lips never leaving yours.

-Thor Odinson: It was a nice, calm morning for you and Thor. You were laying in bed, sunlight coming from the windows giving a nice gold tint to the room. Thor looked down, playing with your silky hair, and you smiled when your eyes connected.

He leaned down to give your lips a short peck, but you pulled him back in, finding his arms suddenly wrapped around your torso tightly. Your hands cupped his jaw and you felt Thor smile as he slid his tongue into your mouth, exploring it like it was the first time.

"Hey-oh!" Thor grunted and pulled away, looking at Tony who had barged into your room "Didn't know the Odinsons had it in them to go for a round so early." Thor held his hand out for Mjölnir which flew from the other side of the room right into his hand, making Tony run out of the room faster than thunder.

-Clint Barton: It was one of those days in the facility where no one had anything to do. No paperwork to fill out, no missions to go on and nothing fun to do. So logically, you and Clint decided it'd be a great idea to go training.

As you were sparring, he swung his leg under yours and in the blink of an eye, you had him straddling your hips on the ground.

He smirked and leaned down, his face close enough to yours for you to be kissing. He pinned your arms above your head and you whispered "Not here Clint." However you didn't protest when he started kissing your neck.

He only stopped when you both heard a loud voice booming. "Brother Clint and Lady (Y/N) seem to be busy, turn around." Clint rolled off you, the only thing heard in the room was your now heavy breathing. You saw Thor pushing Steve out of the training room making you chuckle slightly before getting up.

-Pietro Maximoff: It was a lazy day for you and Pietro. You both had some fun last night, though you were quiet and slow, not wanting to wake the others up from their light slumber.

You walked into the kitchen in one of Pietro's oversized training shirts to make yourself a coffee and a peanut butter and jam sandwich. You shut your eyes for a moment, opening them to take your first bite.

You felt arms wrap around your waist and you leaned into the familiarity of Pietro's chest. You both sighed in content; everything was perfect. Nothing could possibly ruin the weekend you were having. Pietro went ahead to place a kiss on your cheek and you turned around to get a proper one on the lips. He chuckled, his laugh throaty and raspy.

He reconnected your lips only to hear a yell "Oh get a room you two!" You bit the inside of your cheek, grabbing your sandwich in one hand and Pietro's shirt in the other, dodging a disgusted Clint as you escaped to your bedroom, coffee mug forgotten on the counter.

-Peter Parker: You and Peter went over to his house immediately after class, eager to cool off with your weekly movie night. It was easy to say that the both of you had a fairly tough week. You changed into some comfortable clothes, settling down on Peter's bed with a bunch of snacks.

"You know," you started, taking a sip of your soda. "More people should watch Star Wars. Like they immediately judge, but they haven't even watched it. At least know what you're talking about if you're going to say it's bad." Peter smiled, pulling your body closer to his and kissing your forehead. You hummed in delight, snuggling into his chest. "If this is what I get for being smart, I should really start studying more."

You trailed butterfly kisses on his soft skin, from his jaw down to his collar bone until his sweater was restricting any further access. You tugged at it and Peter untangled himself from you to take it off.

Just as you straddled him, connecting your lips to his skin once more, the door squeaked, signaling it had been open. "Hey Peter-oh! Use protection!" Aunt May stepped out of the doorway, shutting the door behind her, leaving you and Peter mouth agape as you stared at the same spot she stood at mere seconds ago.

-Peter Quill: It was a crucially boring day for the lot of you. You all just sat in the Milano trying to find something to do. "Babe. Baby." Peter poked you in the shoulder repetitively, head leaning on your arm, puppy eyes ready. "What is it Peter, Baby?" "I miss you." He whined.

You looked down at his pouty face, leaning down to give his soft plump lips a nice short kiss. "I want you," he whispered in such a low voice, you almost didn't hear him. You looked around the room.

Gamora was reading a magazine, Rocket was fixing some sort of machine, probably another bomb, Drax was sitting on a one seater couch eating from a bag of chips and Mantis was doing whatever Mantis does, looking outside the ship from the big glass window.

"Come on." You told him quietly. As soon as you entered your room, Peter was planting kisses all over your jaw and down your neck. He picked you up, walking you over to your bed. He immediately crawled above you and you moaned, throwing your head on your pillows and arching your back when he found your sweet spot.

"What a show, you're disgusting." Peter didn't stop, and neither did you, only encouraging his actions when you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. You only pulled away when Gamora took her shoe off, throwing it at the both of you and hitting Peter, making him jump and yelp.

-Stephen Strange: "Hello Love." You jumped slightly at your boyfriend's sudden presence behind you and heard him chuckle deeply. He had just returned from the hospital after a long day of work, leaving to your bedroom for some rest.

You sat in the living room, eyes on your book but your mind kept on drifting off to Stephen. He was a great man. He always greeted you with small kisses after long days of work, cooked dinner when he could, and went out of his way to buy you flowers and small gifts.

You don't know how long you sat there but you eventually got up to strut over to you and Stephen's bedroom. "Hey Ste-oh." There he stood, towel wrapped around his waist, hand running through his wet, greying hair.

His smirk grew wide as he approached you, hands gripping your hips. He leaned down and your arms went to his chest as your lips connected. His tongue easily slipped past your lips and into your mouth. Your fingers played with the loose towel hanging around Stephen's torso and soon enough, it hit the ground, exposing your fiancé's body to you.

Stephen groaned and your arms wrapped themselves around his neck. He lifted you up and your legs found their spot around his waist, hooking your ankles together, never breaking the kiss. "Oh my god!" Stephen suddenly dropped you on the floor only to pull you back into him to cover himself. "Oh my god! Why you guys!? At least shut the fucking door!" "Get out Christine!" Yelled Stephen, his face flushed, embarrassment written all over his features.

-Loki Laufeyson: You sat in the library, nose in a book. That's how it was, and that's how you planned it would be for the rest of the day. That was, until someone snatched your precious book from your hands and started running into the depths of the library, the only sign of who it is being the jet black hair disappearing behind a bookshelf.

"Loki! Come back!" You yelled, already on the chase. "Loki!" You dragged out the last syllable you looked through the aisles. All of a sudden, you were pulled into someone's arms and then pushed back into a bookcase, a pair of lips smashing onto yours.

You couldn't help but moan out Loki's name as he pressed himself closer to you, starting to grind his crotch into yours. He smiled softly, murmuring an "I've missed you incredibly, my love." You moaned again, managing to utter "I've missed you too."

"Would you look at that! What have you done to (Y/N)'s innocence, my dear brother?" Loki pulled away with a sigh, giving Thor an 'Are you serious?" look.

-Sam Wilson: "Never again." You groaned, slumping down onto the couch, clutching your now broken wrist. "You okay baby?" Asked Sam, pulling you into a hug. You dug your head into his chest, shaking it slightly. "I think Steve likes seeing me suffer. He always sends me after the tougher guys." You whined.

He chuckled as you spoke up again, muttering about the pain. "At least you got your cast to be your favourite colour, no?" You laughed at his poor attempt to cheer you up but nodded nonetheless.

He got up, leaving the room before joining you again, a sweatshirt in hand. Your eyes lit up as he handed it to you and you pulled it on, nearly ripping it with your speed. "Careful there." He muttered as you launched yourself on him to hug him.

"Mhmm." "Don't fall asleep on me again, please." He told you, kissing your soft, pink lips. You hummed, your uninjured arm fisting his shirt to pull him on top of you. He chuckled at your eagerness before pulling you in again.

You both had been so busy these past few weeks that you barely got a morning kiss, but now that you were alone, you intended to make the most of it, showing your boyfriend of two years how much you really loved him.

Your unharmed hand held him closer to you by the neck, your broken one on the couch beside your head. You moaned when Sam bit your lip but immediately stopped, eyes widening when Natasha walked in with Tony, her eyes on her phone, muttering "Somewhere else please."

#the avengers #marvel #marvel studios #marvel smut #marvel cinematic universe #bucky barnes #sam wilson #stephen strange #tony stank #tony stark #thor odinson #loki friggason #loki odinson #loki of asgard #clint barton #pietro x reader #x reader #bucky barnes x reader #peter parker #peter quill #rainydayathogwarts

[rebeccccccaaa]

TEᑎᔕIOᑎ

_____________________________

ᗩGEᗪ ᑌᑭ!ᑭETEᖇ ᑭᗩᖇKEᖇ ᙭ ᖇEᗩᗪEᖇ

ᔕᑌᗰᗰᗩᖇY: You and Peter have always been very flirty and touchy with each other. You chalked it up to just how he is, not that you minded. But what happens when Peter gets hit with Hydra’s infamous sex pollen and all he seems to be doing is moaning your name. 

ᗯᗩᖇᑎIᑎGᔕ: smut of course lol 18+ (virgin kink?, first time!reader, experienced!Peter, etc, unprotected sex cuz i forgot to write that lol be safe though, and a digusting amount of fluff) 

ᗩ/ᑎ: (non/dub con as per usual with sex pollen fics) although i tried to make as consensual as possible 

ᗯOᖇᗪ ᑕOᑌᑎT: 4.0k (i’m so sorry this is so long lmao)

_________________________________________

“We’re back!” Tony shouted, his voice echoing in the building. They had gone on a mission to infiltrate yet another Hydra base.

Peter was currently sitting and watching television and you were watching from the kitchen making two drinks for you and Peter. You both looked to the team walking in before scurrying beside Bruce and Tony who walked straight into the lab. 

“What did you get this time?” you asked excitedly. Sometimes the team brings back really cool things back from missions and in particular the Hydra missions have the coolest things. Unusually, Thor too walked in the lab before you all circled around the table and Tony placed a plant. 

He backs away as did Bruce and Thor so after looking at Peter with wide eyes you both also stepped back. 

“What is it?” Peter whispered.

“A plant,” Thor said.

“Not shit, Goldilocks. What does it do? You told us to take home, now what?” Tony said.

“Well, Man of Iron, it’s a sex pollen plant.”

“A what?” you gasped.

“Most planets use this as a sort of breeding plant; some species don’t really have the… stamina that Midgardians and Asgardians have.”

As Thor explained this, Tony and Bruce huddle away from the plant moving towards the computer to write down notes and data about what Thor was telling them. You followed pursuit also being intrigued by it. 

Unfortunately Peter did not follow and instead moved closer to the plant to take a closer look. The flower was beautiful. The petals were a soft shade of periwinkle and the pollen was yellow almost like gold. The same shade of golden yellow dust swirled around the flower itself. It was hypnotizing. He really wanted to smell it.

Suddenly as Peter got closer just to give it a quick sniff, he could smell an almost overbearing amount of your scent. That delicious scent of vanilla and lavender that you smelled so nicely of. That scent that made Peter want to run his hands through your hair and his nose along your neck. 

“One thing you should never do is inhale its pollen, if one does it could heighten their desires into madness.”

Peter looked up with wide eyes knowing he just did something he probably shouldn't have done. 

“What desires exactly?” Bruce asked.

“Well, sex.”

Peter started coughing.

“Pete are you ok?” you asked walking up to him.

He looked you in your eyes and his own dilated insanely. You backed away slightly concerned for your friend only for him to take a step closer to you. The lab coated with silence analyzing his behavior since it was so unlike him. Tony got up from sitting on a stool and Thor puffed his chest anticipating his next move; he was certain the boy breathed in the plant’s pollen. 

“It smelled just like you,” he whispered close to your face; his hands reaching under your shirt slightly.

The minute he put his hands on you, all three men ran you and Peter. Bruce pulled you behind him while Tony and Thor grabbed Peter dragging him away from you. You felt hot after what Peter had just done; in front of people too. He thrashed in Thor’s and Tony’s grasp, groaning and shouting from them to let him go. 

You felt tears brimming your eyes. You did not like Peter like this. He was crying and begging to be with you, which you’ll admit surprised you. 

“What’s happening to him?” you asked from behind Banner.

“The boy seems to have inhaled the pollen as I said not to do.”

“Yeah I get that! Why is he crying? Is he hurt?” you asked.

“Not exactly, the pollen will affect his mind and simulate pain as if he were to die, but his body will be perfectly fine.”

“What?” you all said at the same time.

“How do we fix it?” Tony asked.

“Y/n, baby. Please,” Peter practically moaned making everyone kind of uncomfortable.

“Well, the only way I’m aware of is, well, sex. And it seems like Peter desires the young lady,” you eyes widened and you shifted under everyone’s stares. 

“No, no way,” Tony said; you were like a daughter to Tony and therefore boys were something he wasn’t too keen on the idea of you having. He still thinks you’re too young even though you’re already a consenting adult. 

“Tony, the boy-”

“No, I’m not letting Y/n do that. We’ll find a different cure. Take him to his room and don’t let him out.”

“Tony, are you sure about this?” Bruce asked Tony.

“Yes I’m sure, Banner. There’s no way in hell I’m putting her in that situation. It’s not fair. Now come on, more time talking, less time finding a cure.”

“Technically there’s already a cure,” Thor muttered. 

“Go!” Tony pushed him out. 

“Is he gonna be ok?” you softly asked, hearing his cries and screams for you as Thor took him to is room.

“He’s gonna be alright, bug,” Tony said, hugging you. 

Steve and Nat both walked in the lab after changing out  of their clothes concerned with all the screaming they had been hearing.

“What happened?” Nat asked.

“Thor had us bring this plant home for analysis and turns out this shit makes anyone who smells the pollen horny as hell.”

“Really? Come on Tony, we heard the kid crying and screaming. What’s really going on?” Steve didn’t believe him at first.

“He wants to… have sex,” Bruce said shyly.

“Wait really?” Nat asked.

“With who?” Steve hesitantly asked curiously.

Tony and Bruce simply look at you, which you curled into yourself feeling embarrassed. 

“Oh no, honey are you ok? Did he do anything?” Nat asked, holding your hand.

“I’m fine, I’m just worried about him.”

“Don’t. We’ll fix this I promise,” Tony said getting to work.

Well now it’s been 8 hours and Peter is still crying and moaning your name. You had been in Nat's room with her, Steve, and Bucky. Sam and Thor had been outside ‘patrolling’ Peter’s room making sure he was as ok as he can be, though it’s been proven that he seems to be in excruciating pain. 

Tony and Bruce had been in the lab the entire day, you’d think they made wonderful progress and found a cure by now but no. All they’ve found was normal samples of Peter’s… everything. He was physically perfectly fine. 

You were very quiet as they played video games and watched movies. You couldn’t help but feel burdened because you knew you could fix all of this. All you needed to do was go to Peter’s room and let him have his way with you. It’s not like you wouldn’t mind. You and Peter have always had this sort of tension and extra friendly behavior between you guys ever since you met. 

To say you hadn’t developed feelings for him would be a huge lie. 

“Are you ok?” Nat asked you.

“No, not really.”

“I know you want to help him but it’s for the better. Let Tony and Bruce find a cure.”

“Actually that won’t be happening anytime soon,” Thor said, walking with Sam. 

“What happened?” Steve asked.

“They haven’t found anything and although Peter will be physically fine, mentally he could be extremely traumatized by the time they find something, if anything. The pollen mimics physical pain until sexual ‘needs’ are fulfilled by the person they desire most,” Thor looked to you at the end. 

“I want to help him,” you said.

“Y/n, that’s not fair to you,” Steve said.

“And it’s not fair to Peter if I don’t help! He didn’t mean to smell the flower. I can't just sit here waiting for nothing to happen when I can go in there and help him!” you argued, “If I don’t, he’ll not only hate you for keeping me away from him but me too for not trying.”

“Don’t be silly, he’d never hate you,” Nat said.

“He will if I’m the reason he’s going to be traumatized for the rest of his life.”

“Come with me,” Nat said, holding your hand.

“Nat,” Steve warned.

“Steve, you and I both know this has to happen. They’re adults,” Nat shot back. 

You followed Nat out of the room. 

“Are you absolutely sure about this? Your first time should be special-”

“First time?” your eyes widen.

“Y/n, I know you're a virgin.”

“I’m not a virgin,” you mumbled.

“Really? When was your first?” she poked.

“It was- was in, it was high school,” you stuttered.

“With who?”

“... Tommy?” you said after a long moment of silence, trying to come up with a name.

“Tommy?” Nat smirked.

“Yeah, he was in my history class,” you lied.

“Ok we’ll work on that,” she said.

“On what?”

“Lying.”

“Hey, virginity is merely a social construct made by men who think their tiny dicks have the ability to change a woman’s life. It’s gonna be like a five second pump; I’ll be in and out,” Nat laughed at that.

“Ok, fine. Follow me.”

You followed her to Peter’s room where his moans and groans got louder with each step you got closer. Truthfully you were a bit nervous about the situation. Sure you did imagine your first to be extra special in a dim lit room with flowers and with someone you love. Well, now it looks like it’s going to be a dark room with your best friend who’s in the room driven by magic sex pollen, but at least you love him. 

You got to the door and Peter instantly knew you were on the other side. His senses overwhelmed him with your scent, your racing heart beat. You exchanged a few words with Nat before she hugged you and left you to go into his room alone. 

You slipped inside and immediately met with Peter crawling on the floor to you in nothing but a pair of boxers; a large prominent tent formed where his dick was. 

“Y/n, you’re here,” he rubbed your legs and kissed your thighs softly still on the floor at your feet. 

“Yeah, I am. I’m here to help you,” you said shakily.

“Oh god, you smell so good,” his hand reached up behind your thighs towards your ass and you panicked. 

“Peter wait,” you pulled his hand away. 

“What, baby? What’s wrong?” he too panicked.

“Nothing, I just… I’m kinda scared.”

“Of what? Of me?” he stood up and backed away from you.

“No! Not of you. I’ve never… done this, you know?”

“Y/n, why are doing this then- ugh!” he groaned, a wave of need and sexual frustration rushed over him making his body cramp. 

“I want to help you,” you grabbed his hand; he pulled his hand back very quickly and retracted his body over to the bed. 

“Peter, please let me help you,” you walked over to him.

“No, Y/n. I can’t do that to you.”

You were getting tired of his arguing. You wanted to do this. You rushed to him and took your shirt off hoping that’ll prove a point or something. 

“Look, look. I want to help you, Pete. Let me do that,” you cupped his face making him look at you. 

His eyes were so dilated nearly black as he looked into your eyes. His hands caressed your bare stomach and lower back making goosebumps rise across your body. He leaned forward running his nose along your neck breathing you in. He used every ounce of control he had in his body to not flip you on the bed rail you into the mattress. He had to be gentle. The idea of you never have been touched shouldn't have turned him on as much as it does. 

Your stomach fluttered and you let out a shaky breath. Arousal pooled in your underwear with each move that Peter made. Your hands rested on his shoulders unsure of what to do but thankfully Peter moved your hands in his hair and you gently ran your fingers through his curly brown locks as he kissed and nibbled at your neck. 

He moved your bra strap down your shoulder tracing his lips along your collarbone to your shoulder.

“I'm so sorry, baby,” he whispered against your skin.

“It’s ok Pete, I want to help you. Teach me. Teach me how to make you feel good.” 

He practically growled picking you up and laying you on his bed. He kissed your stomach and left small bites and purple marks littered across your belly. He looked at you to make sure you were ok before pulling your shorts down your legs and off to the side. He continued to kiss up and down your legs growing harder at the small pants and gasps you made above him. 

“I'm gonna give you a little taste, ok darling?” he whispered against your inner thighs.

You nodded and lifted your hips off the bed for Peter to easily take your underwear off. You grew embarrassed at how wet you were. Peter only chuckled before going in a licking along your entrance. You gasped and clenched your thighs together, only to wrap around Peter’s head pulling him closer to you.

This isn’t Peter’s first time eating a girl out so he was obviously quite skilled in bringing you a lot of pleasure from his tongue alone. Now in his twenties, after high school and after his identity was revealed, Peter somewhat tumbled his way into playboy town just like his mentor. 

Girls left and right shot their chance to spend a night in the spider boy’s bed. But when Peter met you, oh boy, the kid fell in love. You were this innocent little thing that Peter just wanted to hold and take care of all the time. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. He stopped seeing other women in hopes that one day you’d be out of your mind enough to give him a shot. 

Now here you were, laying in his bed like an angel, letting him have his way with you because he was shithead and smelled the flower when he wasn’t supposed to. 

Your hips squirmed around, pressure building up in the pit of your stomach. You moaned loudly as you got closer to your oragsm. Your hands went to Peter’s hair making him hum when you tugged on his hair. His vibrations pushed over the edge and you came for the first time that night on Peter’s face.

“God that was hot, baby. Are you ok?” he asked, crawling up your body after discarding his boxers.

“Yeah, that was amazing,” you cupped his face, smiling.

He leaned down and kissed you for the first time ever. His hands roamed your almost naked body except for your bra of which you still had on. Not for long of course. Peter leaned back to sit up pulling you with him so you were now sitting straddling his lap. 

You could feel his dick against you and your body shuddered in arousal. His hands wrapped around you to skillfully remove your bra, the last piece of clothing left on you. When he did so you covered yourself in instinct never having been naked in front of anyone before in your life. 

“Don’t cover up princess. You’re so beautiful. I wanna see you,” he whispered, cupping his hand under your chin so you could look at him.

“Sorry, it’s- It’s a lot,” you whispered back. 

“I know and I’ll try to go slow but if I’m not inside you right now I think I’m gonna pass out,” he moaned. 

You looked down in between your bodies to find Peter’s dick big, swollen, and red. You felt bad because you don’t know if it’ll fit inside you and it looks painful. 

“Please, Yn,” Peter had tears in eyes begging for you to take the pain away.

“Ok, I’m ready.”

Peter grabbed his cock and lined up to your entrance. You got up and slowly sank down feeling him stretching you out. With how aroused and wet you were after Peter’s mouth you were able to slide all the way down without feeling too much pain.

Peter moaned when he bottomed out and grabbed your face you kiss passionately. You moved slowly up and down and soon all the pain you felt subsided into pleasure and you too started moaning above him. 

“You look so fucking good riding me, princess.”

His words made you moan even more embarrassed that everyone can probably hear you and Peter having sex. You bit your lip in hopes to silence the moans as much as possible, but Peter didn’t like that.

“Don’t. I want everyone in this building to know who fucking you this good,” he flipped you over onto you back and started thrusting wildly. 

“Let them know what a good little girl you are for daddy. Let them know who’s name you’re gonna be screaming all night.”

“Peter oh god,” you moaned.

“Huh? You like it when I call you a good girl?”

“Yes!”

“My good girl. My little slut,” Peter groaned in your ear.

You were getting insanely close to your climax and Peter’s words only sped up the approach. 

“Daddy, I think I’m close,” you whispered, pleasure becoming overwhelming.

“Let go baby. Cum all over my cock,” he said.

Your oragsm ripped through you and you practically screamed into his ear. Pleasure came over you in a huge wave. Your eyes screwed shut and your legs wrapped around Peter’s torso pulling him impossibly close. Your body felt limp under Peter’s and when you opened your eyes Peter's face held worrisome and frustration. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“I haven’t came,” his voice trembled.

“It’s ok. We can keep going,” you said tiredly.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he buried his face in your neck.

“You won’t hurt me, Peter. I promise.”

He kissed softly before gently flipping you over and thrusted into furiously.

Six hours later Peter finally came after you did so nine times; and that was before you stopped counting. Your body shook and Peter cleaned you up. He had a small fridge where he kept drinks from time to time and grabbed a water bottle for you to drink. 

You breathed heavily after drinking a copious amount of water before laying back down. You turned to check the clock on his bedside and saw that it was around three thirty in the morning. Peter crawled into bed with you, both still naked not caring enough to change. He held you impossibly close, burying his face in your shoulder. 

“I’m so sorry. Are you ok?” he mumbled in your skin. 

“I mean it was a lot,” you chuckled.

“I swear if it weren’t for that stupid fucking pollen our first time would have been softer and special,” he said, making you look at him with surprise. 

“What do you mean?”

“Uh, well, look. Y/n, I really like you and I know that timing is horrible but it’s true. I promise.”

“Well, I like you too,” you smiled at him.

“Really?”

“Yeah!”

“Wow. God, you’re amazing. Thank you for today,” he whispered, cuddling you close.

“Of course. I’d do anything for you.” 

You both fell  asleep soundly in each other's arms until you both woke up the next day from loud yet muffled voices downstairs. The sun was shining very bright, lighting the whole room up brightly. You stirred around and peeked over Peter’s sleeping body to find that it was around noon already and you two were still in bed. 

Peter moved a bit slowly waking up. You turned around to face and watched his beautiful face slowly come to life. His eyes met your eyes and you both smiled before bursting into giggles; hiding your face in his chest. 

“We’ll have to get up soon, you know,” he said, making you sigh dramatically.

“Let’s run away, before they make fun of us. They had to have heard, right?” you said, slightly panicked.

Peter just laughed and shook his head. He reached to kiss you, moving your hair off your neck eyes widening. 

“Oh man,” he said, thumb rubbing the dark spots he left on you.

“What?” You pushed the sheets off your body feeling intensely sore. You heard Peter gasped as you trotted to a mirror.

Your body was covered in bruises and hickeys that Peter left for literally everyone to see. When you looked in the mirror you yelled Peter’s name completely shocked at the state of your body. 

“I can’t believe you!”

“Well, in my opinion I think you looking fucking sexy,” he said coming up behind you.

“I like them,” you said shyly, “But everyone’s gonna see them, no?”

“I’m sorry, it won’t happen next time.”

“Next time?”

“Hell yeah. Only if you want of course,” he chuckled, “Let’s take a shower before we grab some food.”

That was filled with giggles and little touches. Kisses were exchanged practically every minute. You both came out of the shower and Peter so generously lent you a pair of clean boxers and one of his shirts fitting way too big on you. He wore these delicious looking grey sweatpants and a tight fitted black shirt. You practically drooled over him.

“No, later,” he winked.

He grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers before heading down stairs preparing for what could be an upcoming disaster. You came down stairs meeting everyone appearing to be arguing probably over what you did. Everyone noticed you two and immediately stopped conversing. 

Tony sat on a stool, arms crossed and an unamused look staring at you both while everyone else looked down or at each other, anywhere at but you guys.

“Before you say anything, everything that happened is my fault,” Peter pulled you behind him. 

Tony simply looked at you and made you feel shy and ashamed somewhat under his gaze. He told you to stay away and you didn’t listen.

“Don’t even look at her. She has nothing to do with this,” he said when Tony shifted his gaze.

“Relax, kid. Look we all talked. Thor told me about the effects the pollen can have mentally and the trauma it can impact when ‘untreated’ for too long. We weren’t going to find a cure anytime soon and I don’t even want to think about the consequences you’d have to pay because I'm a stubborn old man who didn’t like seeing the kids not be kids anymore. You both are adults and I had no right to interfere with that. Besides everyone knows you two are in love.”

“We’re not in love,” Peter mumbled.

“Love is such a strong word,” you mumbled simultaneously. 

“Don’t argue with me,” Tony said. 

“Sorry,” you both whispered.

“I’m sorry,” he admitted.

“We also agreed that starting today we will be installing soundproofing in both of your rooms and Y/n, maybe put some ice on…” he pointed to your neck but then waved around your whole body because you were pretty beaten up. 

“Thanks, guys,” Peter said holding your hand again.

“Congrats on getting the girl finally,” Steve said.

Before you two left you saw Nat wink at you and you smiled running away with Peter most likely to go cuddle and maybe fuck another round if your body feels better. As much as you hate to admit, thank god Peter smelled that fucking plant. 

#peter parker #peter parker smut #peter parker oneshot #peter parker one shot #aged!up peter parker #peter parker sex pollen #sex pollen #tom holland #tom holland smut #marvel smut

[camileeon]

Hi! I have a fic idea!

Camilo x FTM reader

Reader is having a rough day with trans phones telling him he’s not a real boy, and just rude stuff. But Dolores overhears and tells Camilo what happens and he comforts us and reassures us?

Don’t feel pressured, only do it if you wanna/comfortable doing it! (P.S. Love your work, keep doin you!)

EDEN OF WILD FLOWERS

🍵- “they'll never love you like i can.”

🦋- FTM Reader x Camilo Madrigal

🍊- i could've done better with this one but i guess it's fine :') just a something for comfort for awhile >:) im also sorry because i did not proof read this, please point it out if you do notice something wrong :)) thank you! Please enjoy^^ (i also may or may not take a few days off for a break because i need time to think again for some fics and yes fr this time :>) @eyuunho

[•••]

“you're not a real boy! And you will never be one. You're not worth anyone's time.”

Hearing them cackle out teasing laughter rung in his ears and felt a pang in his heart, He was already having such a worse day and this too came to view. Why won't anything leave him alone today?

From toppling over a cart and spilling a few messes while fulfilling a few errands, Y/n was a little off and didn't feel too well that day so everything seemed to crumble and fall apart as soon as something were to be held under his grasp. It's as if lady luck or rather the world wasn't on his side that day it were to drive him insane at some point, but all the rude things that seemed to never get out of his head were his last and final straw.

It was so tiring just to hear other people yip yapping like stray dogs about how he'll never be a real boy and that he was a fake as well as being called names just drained the life out of him. Y/n didn't get to respond back at them, just eventually letting time run it's course, pleading that the day would end on a good not somehow.

Fortunately as encanto has it's frolics here and there, someone had heard his silent plea of help and had witnessed the whole situation by ear, none other being Dolores herself. She couldn't comprehend how excruciatingly irksome a few town's people were to someone who minded their own business but continued to poke their presence into other people's lives. The super hearing madrigal had rushed to find the shapeshifter doing his chores around casita, wanting to make sure y/n was alright

“Hermano, A few idiots have been messing with y/n and i don't they've been having a good day so far..” She says to the shapeshifter who almost dropped a dish he held in his hands, a worried expression claiming his face and rushed out of casita in less than a minute. Literally dropping everything so that he could get to him

“Cover for me hermana! I'll make it up to Mama later!”

He shouted out to his sister before putting his focus once more back in finding y/n, all his worried thoughts and questions just seemed to consume his head as every second went by.. If he was Y/n where wpuldbhe go in this situation, fortunately he remembered. There had been a stranded yard which fled with wild flowers and plants that had been untamed, never having the proper care for the lovely eden. Camilo remembered taking him there and Y/n absolutely loved it, locating it behind most of the forsaken townhouses and knew he'd most likely be there to clear his head.

His heart strummed a sad harmony as stinging tears rolled down his face with a sigh, overthinking about what he had done wrong to deserve any of this. Sitting down on a worn out bench as he admired all the overgrown flowers and vines that surrounded him and most of the miscellanious objects that had been thrown away, similar to how he had felt at that moment, useless and wasn't in place. Camilo found Y/n with his head in his hands, literally feeling his heart break at the tired sight of his significant other.

“I heard about what happened.. you know they're wrong amor..” He assured, taking a seat beside the other.

“I know.. but i feel so.. out of place. Do i even belong here..?” Y/n replied, fumbling with his fingers. Camilo slowly leaned forward to take his hands in his, making him look into his eyes.

“Yes you do belong here, you're worth everything i could ever think of. don't let anyone tell you who you're supposed to be, you're you for a reason after all.” He says, intertwining his fingers with y/n's as he continued.

“And if other people can't accept you for being who you are, that's their problem. I fell in love with you for being you. I would say the words i love you a billion times even if i have to or walk miles just to get to you. if i can't say it, I'd show it and I'm sure i already am.” His eyes lit up brightly as he spoke, taking him in a warm secure embrace. Their hearts synched beat by beat.

“They'll never love you like i can.”

TAGLIST:

@destinydrawssometimes

@camilolovesroxiie

@i-more-need-books

@aphrodicts-imagination

@s1mpystuff

@dai-tsukki-desu

@pepasfavorite

@kaxiaowow

@azrielxx

@l-e-m-o-n-g-a-y

@astroddon

@try-cry-why-try

@lolalee24

#disney encanto #camilo x reader #encanto fanfic #encanto x reader #encanto headcanons #camilo madrigal x reader #camilo madrigal #encanto fic #camilo encanto x reader #camillo madrigal