#ill admit im not very practiced at fulling

[milkweedman]

Me poking at the scarf: is it felted yet ???

[yanderespamton78]

Pinup!!!!! the baby!!!! the guy!!!!

sorry if this looks kinda iffy the majority of this was drawn between 11pm and 2:30am so i was very tired loll

also yes that is a totoro bag i dont care if totoro doesnt exist in cyber city he has a totoro bag come at me

Pinup belongs to @turntableart

[kisses4suna]

can you please give me some really soft suna bf headcannons !!!! i love ur works btw ur my fav suna writerr ahh

SUNA RINTAROU BF HEADCANNONS !

☆ featuring. suna rintarou

☆ a/n. OMFG. anon im so sorry this took me so fkn long to answer. im slowly starting to finish requests people have sent in months ago. i love this idea sm tho!! im so sorry again; i literally deleted tumblr and finally got it backk ill be finishing more requests soon and posting drafts, then during the summer ill post WAY MORE FREQUENTLY. (so be prepared for sm more suna content guys ;))

ps. i might make a p2 for post timeskip suna too so lmk if you’d want that !!

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

PRE-TIMESKIP BF SUNA

- suna mfing rintarou will raise your standards to heaven bro. even if he’s only in highschool

- his face will be so deadpanned and neutral but the minute he sees you he grows that small smile that he hopes nobody sees

- he talks about you like crazy to his sister but doesn’t even realize it

- “did you see her new insta post? shes so pretty bro how tf did i pull her”

- “i miss my gf rn”

- “hey do you think y/n would want something like this?”

- his sister loves you, but is so tired of her brother constantly talking about you

- he would choose you over anybody, and anything. even over his airpods. which says a lot for suna

- will literally do anything to spend time with you. he will drop as much as he could on his schedule for you. he just genuinely wants you to be with him all the time. (he’s so clingy its cute but he hates admitting how attached he is to you hes like a lil koala bear hanging onto his branch)

- without you even knowing he signed you up to be a manager for his volleyball team just so you could spend time with him at his practice

- this mf so obsessed with you he got hit in the face with a volleyball because he was too busy looking at you instead of paying attention to the actual practice

- he will ‘go to the bathroom’ during practice just to sneak off underneath the bleachers to give you a quick kiss and talk to you.

- suna isn’t dumb he’s actually really smart just very lazy, so if you were in advanced classes he would literally get his grade up, request a transfer to your advanced classes, just so he could spend more time with you there

- plus he loves seeing you seem so smart and focused he thinks you look so cute like that ^^

- he unfollowed every girl on his socials besides you and his sister

- he has a whole instagram highlight dedicated for you and its filled with over 20 stories of you and him together or sometimes just pictures of how beautiful you are.

- his insta bio has your initial with a heart, and says “i love my gf” just for fan girls to back off

- his photo album is way worse. he organized his whole camera roll and has a full album of you which takes up half his storage, but who cares, he doesn’t mind having to delete games he downloaded cause he was bored ( especially if its for you )

- in his notes app he has every little detail about you written down, not in a creepy way, just to remember important stuff about you. like what you hate in people, your fav stuff, etc.

- he dedicates every long song to you.

- also hes like very touchy in private, i mean in public he is too, BUT IN PRIVATE. oh my. he is not afraid to cling onto you.. you will literally have to claw him off you if you have to use the bathroom while your cuddling

- he’s only like that because he loves you so much and he’s so attached to you, he just wants to stay with you forever because he cant imagine losing you

- he asks his mom if he can sleep over at your house as much as he could, the days he can’t, you either go to him, or he facetimes you and you both end up falling asleep on the phone.

- everytime he goes to the mall with his friends or something, he will ask them every 3 seconds “do you think y/n would want this ?” he really just wants to spoil you to show you how much he loves and appreciates you

- sometimes he sleeps late at night rewatching his volleyball games and analyzing his plays, so he bought you a sleeing mask and earplugs so you could fall asleep without the sound or light of the tv bothering your slumber

- he loves being in between your thighs, your fingers tangled in his hair while you both watch tv.

- but at night he loves burrying his face in the crook of your neck with one armed wrapped around your waist and the other placed diagonally on your back while his hand covers the back of your head, almost looking like hes protecting it.

- you’ve genuinely helped him become a better version of himself, when he’s with you he’s at his best, which is probably why he loves you so much. because when he’s with you it feels like he’s just at peace, he just falls in love with you even more everyday.

- he hates thinking your love is puppy love and it wouldn’t last, and some nights when he’s not with you, he’ll overthink like crazy, really just wondering why someone as perfect as you hasn’t left him yet, or why are you even with him in the first place ?

- little does he know, he means as much as you mean to him, and you don’t plan on leaving him anytime soon.

[hashbrowpn]

──★ ˙SO FORGETFUL ̟ !!

LUKE CASTELLAN doesn't wanna admit it, but he really, really wants you at his apartment tonight. so he resorts to a plan, but you're quick to catch on.

NOTES: this is a different au where phones dont attract monsters, 'nd luke and y/n are both still students ! ( srry if this is kinda messy .. its almost 2 am here .! )

You stared at the message popping up on the very top of your screen.

babee 💗: "YOU FORGOT YPUR SCHOOL NOETBOOK HERE!!"

it was in capital letters, seemingly alarming. You knew. You had already checked your whole bag for it. But then you couldn't resist smiling as you saw the next message following,

babee 💗: "Come over. dont you need it?"

You had visited Luke yesterday after class.

"I'll get this for you," Luke had said, pulling your bag off your shoulders. "I'll just hang it by the front door, hm?"

"Thanks," you sighed as the weight lifted from your back, your eyes drifting off as he disappeared from your view, oblivious to when his fingers pulled at the zipper of your bag, finding your notebook and slipping it in his drawer.

YOU: "rlly? cant believe im so forgetful. ill drop by to get it"

babee 💗: "drop by?"

YOU: "yeah?? whats wrong?"

babee 💗: "cant you stay a little longer than 'just dropping by'?"

you let a snicker fall from your lips.

YOU: "...babe if u want me to stay at your apartment longer js tell me."

his chat bubble didn't appear until a full minute had passed.

babee 💗: "hey, dont blame me, youre the 1 who left your notebook here ? cant believe youre blaming me for saving your ass. we have a test soon and all ur notes are in here."

YOU: "Luke ik what ure doing!!! you didnt have to resort to stealing my notebook just to make me visit again luke😭"

babee 💗: "you forgot it here"

YOU: "..okay, keep it then"

babee 💗: "what"

YOU: "ill get it tmrw..?"

in the minute of silence you sat through, waiting for his reply, you could practically feel his ego wavering as his message sent.

babee 💗: "..fine. i want you to stay for the night. i miss u. now get your ass over here"

[sampsonstorm]

You wanna know what i hate? You wanna know why i left the toxic Helluva / Hazbin Community?

The real reason?

Because i am sick and tired of arguing with teenagers who come on pretending like they know everything. Sorry kids, but you DONT know more than the older 25+ year olds who have been on their own in this world while you are still in highschool! You just dont so stop pretending you do. Most of you cant even say the word Rape without using the 🍇 emoji. You cant accept that CNC -BDSM is a practice without getting your panties in a twist.

You use terms like "Arm Chair Diagnose" without acknowledging the FULL definition. I have RELEVANT experience. What is my relevant experience? You may ask, in this situation? I had a friend who exhibited VERY similar behavior in what he said to people. This friend had AntiSocial personality Disorder and Schizophrenia. He also had Psychosis. I lived with him for 2 years. Wanna know what the definition of Arm Chair Diagnosis is?

I gave no one advice. I didnt say this person 100% has this thing. I said "This person, based on their behavior, COULD POTENTIALLY HAVE based on x,y,z behaviors," wanna know what else i said to the person themselves? I said "If you are struggling , go seek PROFESSIONAL help ASAP." And i said this because i lived with someone who acted like this and he destroyed his own life not seeking help.

Children, and yes i mean anyone aged 1-20, need to stop telling grown ass adults what to do. Until youre 25+ Stop doing it please. Respect that sometimes, you're not gonna like what comes out of peoples mouths (im not talking about slurs or anything like that)and that sometimes, people CAN know better than you based on life experience. Im saying sometimes people have experiences that go over your own and no amount of arguing will change that.

If you aren't old enough to even drink, if you can't conceptualize how to even move out yet, if you have no REAL life experience as an adult and youre biggest problem is highschool and your parents, leave it be please.

In conclusion, I'm done arguing. Yall dont know what youre talking about most of the time and most of the original adult critics abandoned the community for this reason. Its become pedantic and beyond nit-picky. Its full of attention seekers who will pick a fight with you over the stupidest things. And ill admit, if i didnt have experience on the matter, i WOULDNT HAVE SAID ANYTHING. But i DID have experience so i said something so that a person with a potentially life ruining personality disorder could get help and know where to potentially start. You people are going to get everything censored because you cant handle anything YOU dont like.

And yes, i DO recognize that when people who have ZERO experience call someone a Narcissist or diagnose someone with something else, its harmful and stigmatizes mental illness.

I will also say "Armchair Diagnosis" saved me when i didnt know what panic disorder was and it was ravaging my body. I couldnt afford a phsyciatrist. At least that "Armchair Diagnosis" by someone who had experience with Panic Disorder gave me somewhere to start. because its easier to be honest with yourself about your symptoms (in my experience) than a stranger in a chair who's being paid to listen to you and has the potential to not gove a fuck about you.

[rosiehunterwolf]

(Here's the snippet.)

“I must admit to you that I was naive in my hopes that you four would quickly regain your elemental powers. I was also naive in the fact that I was sure that it would not have this effect on Lloyd,” Wu stopped speaking to take a long, deep breath, “your abilities are connected to Lloyd’s to the point where when Morro had control of him, you did not have control of your powers.”

“We’ve lost our powers before and it didn’t do this to him.” Kai responded which is when Cole realized that he had all but chewed through his bottom lip in his frantic pacing.

“You were the only one who lost them to Aspheera. Zane was the only one who did not have control of his powers as the Ice Emperor. The only other times that you two have lost all of your powers was when Morro used Lloyd’s body, which inadvertently delayed something like this from occurring and after he defeated the Overlord the first time.”

“When he was the golden ninja and had all of our powers.” Jay supplied and Cole watched as Wu nodded, but his stomach was still full of knots and he was still extremely confused as to where all of this was going so he finally asked the question on his mind.

“Can someone please explain what is happening?”

The room grew quiet for a few somber moments and Cole started to assume that the only way he would get the answer was if he begged, but before he could speak, Master Wu gave him the words that hit him in the chest like a ton of bricks.

“Because his elemental powers don’t have you four to connect to, Lloyd has grown very ill, very fast. I don’t know how much longer he has, but as of now, Misako thinks that the best plan is to get him to the temple of light and restore his golden power. And I can’t help but agree with her on that.”

“He doesn’t want that power,” Kai tried to argue while Cole’s stomach started to twist with dread and anxiety about the state of Lloyd’s health and how the way that Wu was speaking about it was all too reminiscent of his mother, “it practically turned him into a target for the overlord last time.”

“But it might be the only way to save his life, unless you just got your powers back,” Cole managed to retort with a heavy tongue before approaching Master Wu with a singular question, “when do we leave?”

Ooooooo this sounds sooo cool!!! Im a sucker for these kinds of fics you know me… can’t wait to read more ☺️☺️☺️

[creepycrawliesinyourwalls]

rambling; online diary

i truely believe i can do heroin and not be addicted. i've been on dilaudid before, ive gotten high off my ass on weed, i took some vyvanse to see how itd go, and ultimately it was boring. being high is kinda boring. i complain about not having my cart, sure. but being so fr rn i do it for show. no one would ever believe me in a million years, but it is genuinely for show.

i have a hard time defining myself as a person, given the disorders i have. anything and everything that i could add to myself to humanize myself is a positive, never a negative. humanity is by definition flawed and faulty, if i have a flaw im more easily humanized.

im also incapable of being perfect, though if i wasn't abused to the point of my brain never fully forming a cohesive personality, i'm sure id be a prodigy. if my brain genetically disabled, i'd be top of my class, 4.0 gpa with honors.

with dissociative identity disorder, autism, adhd, bipolar 1, ptsd, clinical depression, arfid, and probably some sort of personality disorder, its hard to care about anything at all. these are only the mental and neurological disorders and defects, too.

inherently i was given the worst hand i could have gotten in birth. my potential is wasted, trapped inside this failure of a body. i could have been so much more. my face is somewhat conventionally attractive, so theres a win.

im confident that without my memory issues, joint pain, and depression i could be a full blown doctor. i have to settle for marketing, because my gpa currently is too low to get into engineering. i wanted to do mathematics for awhile to get into finance or something. i wanted to do geology bc my special interest is rocks, but i don't want to work for an oil company.

if i am not constantly improving with my life in any aspects, if i am stagnant for a stretch of time, i consider it a failure.

i do not have a personality, at least nothing coherent and consistent. some people say im loud, some say im shy. sweet, mean, smart, dumb, its all contradictory traits.

i consider myself better then most of the people i choose to be friends with. a good lot of them (danny, chloe, viktor) will probably never go to college. kaden might go, but im sure she'd just party the whole time. alix is maybe the only one who i'd even consider on my level, since he's aiming for law and finds debates enjoyable. he has the drive and determination to do well in life, and is at the very least takes steps to get where he wanted to get.

chloe wanted to get into medicine and be a doctor. she is chronically disabled and was failing half of he classes. from disabled to disabled person, there is no way in hell you are making it that far. id be surprised if she made it past 25, honestly. she viewed mental hospitals as a vacation, even excluding the morals on that view, its incorrect. she believed she wasn't addicted to her medication, and that it actually helped her. she never even tried.

i am beginning to become fond of alix, though. i hope my headmates realize how much better his is compared to others. taylor and vee are already fond of him, which is a good sign.

we seem to be improving our depression symptoms and dissociative amnesia, and we joined a cbt program to further along process after being voluntarily admitted to a psychiatric facility. (yes, we did ask to go. we were going to kill ourselves as soon as we were alone, we needed immediate help.) i want to work on breaking down our gatekeepers resolve, and get us to a place where we can work on final fusion. i would also like to address our npd traits, but our therapist wouldnt believe us, so ill have to work on that myself.

we haven't been practicing our religion as much as we used too, its kind of sad. we send a prayer up to apollo occasionally, and he usually answers. but otherwise we havent done any spell work. its sucks to admit it, and god to i want to delete this paragraph but i need to work on vulnerability to create and foster friendships that are mutually beneficial.

ive never seen the point of online friends, i think the concept is pointless. i've tried doing it, and everytime we ended up ghosting them. the effort did not match the spoils. if im going to have friends, i need them to invest in me before i invest in them. it can be materially, emotionally, or physically. as long as i gain benefits, you will too.

[jist6543]

Ok @fleetway-super-sonic has gone too far now, I may have been a bit upset when you didn't accept my apology, but now you've officially crossed the line, ive told you that i was letting that character bullshit go, i sincerely appolozed to you, and this is how you treat me? By not letting me live it down and saying that my behavior is pathetic and laughable, with no qualms about it at all? I admitted my faults and tried to own up to them, the only reason why I responded like that was because of how satistic you were to me, For the love of God, for the hundredth time, I said that I was letting that character shit go, im not worried about that anymore, stop twisting the knife on me, your sick you know that, your are absolutely sick, you can't even accept a simple God Damn apology, even when i admitted I was wrong for countless times, telling me to grow up and making fun of me shows that you are no better then ssj-Blake. and corection, 1 they misinterpreted a friendly compliment to a drawing, and 2 they freaking told me to f off when I tried apologizing, before i even knew why I was blocked, the only reason I got pissed off at them was because they called me names, when I tried talking to them calmly and explained that i only said their picture of brandy was cute, and they even called me a dumbass despite that I'm autistic, and wrongfully scorned me and told me to get a life, if they're gonna be that way to me, then yeah im definitely not gonna respond nice either, before signing off. And another thing, you are clearly missing the point that the reason I waited a month was to give you some space before apologizing, but no, you can't even learn to forgive people and to say I was disrespectful to you is putting a slander tone to that statement, making fun of me when I tried apologizing to you is the complete definition of disrespect, I admitted my faults and realized I was wrong which is something you obviously feel doesn't apply to you, i mean hell, your practically bullying me right now, and that's not a very mature thing to do either, so apparently I'm not the only one who needs to grow up. you were very hasty in taking assumptions about me before, and you haven't changed at all, I still like your videos and all and I'll still give you support, despite the negativity you've given me, but again I left you alone for 1 whole month before coming back to apologize, you could at least be great full for that, and your absolutely right enough is enough, I've clearly had enough of your bullying, and will stand for it no longer, if you want me gone, FINE , and I have some great advice to you as well, LEARN TO FORGIVE PEOPLE! When I say I'm sorry, I mean it, when i admit that I made a mistake, and try to own up to it, you don't laugh at someone and make them feel more bad about themselves, your 32 years old for crying out loud, act like it, I'd expect you'd be more principled than that, I don't want to keep arguing about this any more than you do, unless you decide to admit your faults as well, and apologize for bullying me, then I'm definitely gonna talk to you anymore, I don't know why your complaining of someone bullying you when your doing the exact same thing, you should be ashamed, I'm not saying my behavior a month ago was any better, and yes I shouldn't have been so persistent on telling you to include those characters, but at least I admitted my mistake, appologized for it, and tried to own up to it, before you turned me away may I add? and again I'm sorry for getting on you about those characters, but seriously please stop making fun of me, so yeah ill leave you alone now, i know your probably just gonna laugh again, but I hope you can forgive me someday, even though I see that unlikely, so yeah if your gonna be an absolute stuck up, and think that you have the right to scoff people like that despite them sincerely appolozing to you, then yeah, good riddance, but i do wish you the best of luck on your story and hope to see it someday when its finished. I mean that too, but I do hope your additude heals.

You clearly have issues, with forgiveness, I was wrong to think you were any different than ssj-Blake, and I stand by what I said before, I was not gaslighting you when I said you were acting irrational, you were gaslighting me!

[deaddovestellnotales]

OC meme

Tagged: @lolthslover Thanks!! I really appreciate you tagged me! <33 Tagging: @inscrutable-shadow @i-eat-worlds

B A S I C S

Full name: Curumë

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Pansexual, Demiromantic

Pronouns: He/Him

O T H E R

Birthplace: (im still trying to figure that out)

Job: Adventurer (Class: Warlock), former Burglar (Class: Rogue)

Phobias: Curumë fears confined spaces as well as tight grips. He hates the feeling of being cornered and held tight in a spot. It makes him feel like choking. Curumë additionally finds deep bodies of water very unsettling, because he doesn't know what lies beneath and the thought of drowning terrifies him.

Guilty pleasures: Curumë has a weakspot for cute animals, such as bunnies or kittens. He'd never admit it though. Another one is his taste for expensive wines. It's a guilty pleasure for him, because he feels its somewhat snobbish, but he just can't help it.

Hobbies: He enjoys high-stake gambling. He also enjoy's doodling. Not that he has a talent for it. It's just something he finds fun to do and which gets his thoughts flowing. Another hobby he picked up after being forced into a pact with his patron is knife throwing. At first he just did it to practice his combat skills, but he actually enjoys it quite a bit, especially showing off with it.

M O R A L S

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Sins: Greed, Pride

Virtues: Loyalty to the people he considers his friends

T H I S O R T H A T

Introvert / Extrovert

Organized / Disorganized

Close-minded / Open-minded

Calm / Anxious / Restless

Disagreeable / Agreeable / In between

Cautious / Reckless / In between

Patient / Impatient / In between

Outspoken / Reserved / In between

Leader / Follower / Flexible

Empathetic / Unempathetic / In between

Optimist / Pessimist / Realist

Traditional / Modern / In between

Hard-working / Lazy

R E L A T I O N S H I P S

OTP: I don't really have anyone I ship him with but I am also currently fleshing out his relationships and other people in his life. If I had to think about BG3 though and pick one of the companions... Either a hate-ship with Astarion, or a pretty functional one with Wyll because they can relate probably, though they would clash a lot about their ideals.

Acceptable Ships: What's that? I only know extremes!

OT3: None

Brotp: Astarion (but like Hate Brotp? LOL), Karlach maybe

Notp: Astarion (if you don't like hateships), but I also don't think that any of the other companions except for Wyll would even be compatible with him.

B A C K S T O R Y

Before embracing his current life as a Warlock, Curume was an unremarkable street thug, a cog in the wheel of a criminal syndicate. Most of his endeavors involved low- to mid-level thefts, securing a life of comfort beyond the constraints of rules and regulations. Why labor within the confines of society when circumventing it could lead to a more lucrative existence?

Yet, Curume wasn't entirely without morals. He shared his ill-gotten gains with his gang members and friends from the criminal underworld when circumstances allowed. One of his daring heists led him to target a bizarre, reclusive wizard known for his obsession with ancient history, religions, cults, and arcane artifacts. While others deemed the wizard eccentric, it was an irresistible challenge for Curume.

The heist unfolded strangely, leading Curume into the heart of the wizard's library, a treasure trove of cryptic documents, enigmatic relics, and ancient tomes. His curiosity got the better of him, especially when he discovered an unusually adorned map. With a keen sense for opportunity, Curume handed over most of the loot to his client and gang, retaining the map and the cryptic notes strewn across the wizard's desk, hinting at even greater treasures.

Over the following months, Curume delved into deciphering the notes, many of which were written in an unfamiliar, archaic script. He indulged in countless daydreams about the potential rewards the map could lead to. Finally, he unraveled the truth: the language was abyssal, a fiendish tongue. The map pointed to an ancient temple that promised unimaginable riches from the depths of the hells.

Curume's thrill-seeking spirit couldn't resist the call. Alongside his most loyal comrades, he embarked on a journey to find this temple, hacking their way through dense undergrowth as they ventured deeper into the wilderness.

Upon entering the temple, things took a dark turn. Despite the tantalizing artifacts of immeasurable worth, it was a specific item that captivated Curume: an abyssal dagger, resting upon a sinister altar. The moment he laid hands on it, a fiend was summoned, locking the temple doors and rendering the party paralyzed, unable to flee, speak, or fight.

Horror washed over Curume as the fiend reveled in the idea of dragging them to the hells for their audacity. In a moment of desperation, Curume was allowed to speak and made an impulsive offer: he'd surrender his soul for their freedom.

But the fiend merely chuckled, explaining that Curume's soul alone wasn't enough to also save his companions. In a sinister twist, his companions were whisked away to the hells, leaving Curume to face a contract. Grinning, the fiend urged him to sign, adding a cryptic condition: "I'm not all malevolence. All I ask is that you occasionally deliver artifacts, knowledge, and fragments of wisdom to my temple. A small while, but a while nonetheless."

Yet, the most crucial line for Curume was this: "Perhaps offer the most precious thing you possess next time, and I'll release your companions as well." With that, the fiend vanished in a sulfurous haze, leaving behind only a note that encouraged Curume to explore his newfound Powers

For More Information about Curumë (including moodboard, playlist, etc.) check out his notion website: https://fish-hearing-c49.notion.site/Curum-DnD-Edition-3be1dbca1c6a4d2d9e530ee95a9277a2?pvs=4

[salaciousslut]

I love hearing what other ppl like so please do!! I also like R&B a lot i just forgot to mention it when i was talking abt genres i like earlier bc i was too focused on rap 🤭 and im the same way tbh! Unless im a real big fan of an artist i'll wait a while, but sometimes like with Paramore's After Laughter i couldnt stand to accept the sound change so i waited a year to listen to it 🫣

I'm going out in an hour or two and im probably not gonna drink till i get back home late. Im always DD since i live the furthest. I wish you could come out with me and my friends i feel like you'd have fun with us. But my friends usually get crossfaded with me bc i always bring some weed. im ok to drive when its worn off a bit im safe i promise 🫣 but i drop everyone off so im used to getting home late a lot. I wish i could hear you giggling i bet you have a cute laugh sweetheart<3 i bet youre really fun to be around when you're drunk<3

I do the same but im trying to get back into better habits like journaling, like sometimes i just cant cry because ive bottled everything up for so long. So i very much urge ppl to cry when they can because its not a great feeling not being able to cry when you need to cry. Like even if its small, cry about it its fine. Its human to feel the full spectrum of emotion.

I forgot what voice i used for my character but i think it was some generic dude voice, i have been a little out of practice with my deeper voices though. But my voice is usually pretty deep anyway, i pitch my voice up a bit when im at work bc i dont want to scare the old timers too much. I hate to admit that my favorite voices to try to do are meatwad from aqua teen hunger force and stitch, theyre like the same voice to me 🤭 i do it for funsies, but in my teen years i did it a lot bc my friends gave me approval for it 🤭

Soo maybe i might budget to get my hands on those perfumes ☺️ i'd like to know what your favorite perfumes smelled like on first hand bases. This is a second best, best would be smelling it on your neck<3 theres a certain cologne i fell in love with years go that ive been trying to get my hands on, its polo red by ralph lauren it had smelled so wonderful to me.

Candles are a lot to take care of so i get it. I just have two main rules i follow for the life of my candle and the safety of my cats. Im the type of person where if i see soot in your candles i try to clean that out to lessen fire risk bc they can be dangerous, its something ppl never notice but thats ok i just want them to be safe. I used to play with the wax like that too!! It low key led to me trying to experiment a little with wax play which was interesting to say the least.

You really are an adorable little puppy<3 its nice to know i was right about thinking you were shorter than me<3 i like short girls, tall girls are nice but short girls are better<3 esp when theyre a little older than me🤭 also ironically i dont own anything royal purple but maybe one day!

oooh i love r&b!! one of my close friends loves it too and will always rec me songs!! and honestly thats sooo fair about waiting to listen to paramore i was the same way!

im always dd too!! just bc i wanna make sure my friends are safe!! bc we all live in the same apartment complex but i know what u mean! i also just like taking care of my friends as u know! im very much rather drink at home bc its my lil safe space! but if im with people i trust, then i like to let loose. plus i wanna lose my inhibitions with you! ill be such a cute lap pet while u and ur friends are drinking and having fun!!

omg i have trouble crying too!! i call it my emotional constipation so ill put on a sad movie to try and cry!! but yes, heres to us trying to me more in tune with our emotions!!

hehe cute cute cute i wanna hear now!! i think i also have a pretty deep voice so i bet we would sound amazing together!! also hehe stitch i love it!! i bet u sound sooo cute

oh trust me, i plan going to bbw soon and smelling you 🫣🥰 and omg i love polo red!! it smells sooo yummy

i started using a candle warmer rather than lighting my candles bc i got scared of the soot, and i know ur not suppose to keep candles lit for a long time but i love the smell so much!! and yes i love wax play. this is kinda embarrassing but i was doing wax play for someone and he had the audacity to get made at me bc i was moaning and enjoying it rather than in pain. smh just let me enjoy the warm feeling on my skin ya know?

i loveeeee being just a lil shorter, tall people kinda intimidate me at first but ur the perfect height!! hehe lets cuddle bc im sooo touch starved and lazy and in a cuddly mood rn. and omg how old are u??

[walnutcookie]

The lore behind these costumes interests me :DDDD Imust know morr

ive been putting this ask off for a while cause i wanted to make a comic out of this au and didnt want to spoil it but idk if ill have the time so ill just talk about it HBZKZBAKEBD

THANK YOU SOSOSO MUCH FOR THIS ASK BTW /GEN AGAJAHAHA I APPRECIATE IT SO MYCH

ill be focusing on langues costume cause . ill be honest im still figurijg out cappuccinos!!!

so this starts DIRECTLY after pursuit/search for lost time . Roguefort had been accused of touching an object from the past which caused a butterfly effect and fucked with the timeline , and the tbd caught onto this and had them arrested. they have their own court cause like. Theyre meant to be a secret organization and they need to hold trials for people who commit time crimes but they couldnt just hold a normal trial cause that wouldnt be very secretive!!!! also disclaimer i dont know much about law HEOP

if anyone reading this doesnt know my polt fanon already i will not be linkimg my ramble post about it because i really need to rewrite it (i hate how little walnut is included) but long story short roguefort is blinded by rage and um. sets their family's house on fire and causes an event that happened when they were a child where their whole family died!! they are Not doing very well mentally at this moment and timekeeper decided it would be funny to put them on trial so she framed them for touching the object. this is all literally just tk entertaining themself (nobody knows shes behind it all)

roguefort needs a lawyer and timekeeper decides to drop into langues office and . Practically threatens to kill langues parents if they dont agree to defend roguefort. they agree and then rogueforr just fucking falls through a time rift onto the floor and they are Not doing too well. timekeeper leaves and suddenly theyre on their knees begging langue to just let them go to jail (theyre filled with unbearable guilt for doing something so awful and they dont want to admit that theyve actually killed a mansion full of people but eveeryone at least thinks they caused a disruption in the timeline,, they want to go to prison so bad because they just want to be punished they want their guilt to be relieved they want to feel like theyve paid for what theyve done and thats why they want to go to jail so badly)

langue tries to ask rogue what exactly theyre going to be arguing against but. Yeah theyre not in a state to be explaining that thankfully a time rift opens and theres a case file that drops on their desk

Theres BARELY any evidence towards rogue. i dont want to spoil the actual evidence parts (i have thought it all out) (also it would take too long to explain every little thing) and like. Langue doesnt exactly doubt that theyve done the crime but they remain optimistic because they have to prove rogue innocent no matter what. timekeeper never specified if they have to just defend rogue in court or actually win so theyre going to try their best to win

i never figured out exactly how but like . Walnut hears abt whats going to happen and runs up to langue and BEGS them to let her help and they end up agreeing since she knows so much about phantom bleu

the prosecutor in this case is chocolate graham cookie, an oc of mine (and a custom by @/incorrectinfinity). He was hired by the TBD and handles a lot of the trials involving time crimes and he is Undefeated. hes never lost. and during the trial he somehow just keeps pulling out more and more evidence that comes out of NOWHERE but apparently exists and every single time langue and walnut are able to point out a flaw. Eventually the evidence starts contradicting itself and just gets more and more confusing and ridiculous until walnut realizes Holy macaroni graham is messing with the timeline. Every time his evidence is proven useless he just goes back using this watch he has and messes with the crime scene to make rogue look guilty and thats whats been happening with EVERY trial hes done

it turns out hes just Really greedy and an asshole who will break the very laws he claims to enforce just to get more money !!! so hes arrested by the TBD and roguefort is declared innocent the end yayyyyyyyyyyyyyyy yippie!!!!! wahoo!!! yayyyyy ^_^ lalalallayayayay woooooo!!!!

and the tbd just. Does not care about all of rogues other crimes They have much more important things to do like keep the timeline in check they dont care if some phantom thief is stealing diamonds in a random city. they just let them go home since they werent the one tampering with the timeline LOL

honestly considering adding it to my fanon itself but. I need to work out my polt lore first LOL

[ultrabright-flashlight]

ooooooo oh no i'm a spooooky endo system totally here to oppress you instead of just trying to exist without being harassed and suibaited by anti-endos ooooooo. lmao get fucking real. unless you got some actual screencaps proving what you just said you're just talkin' out of your ass

Good evening, follower of batm0th. Here’s the post I was working on for a while.

I may reblog this post in the future to include more stuff. Long post up ahead! Additionally, if there’s any trigger warnings that should be on this but are not, please let me know

First check out @endo-death-threats. There is also @reblogging-ableist-posts where you can search the tags for ‘dissociative identity disorder’ and ‘other specified dissociative disorder’ to find plenty instances of endogenic ableism. @sysmedsaresexist tends to post screenshots of endos being hella shitty. There’s also @justanothersyscourse​ who’s got lots of good sources, and occasionally corrects misinformation.

Anyways!

Do you know about the Empowered Multiples movement? It was a movement started by people who claimed to be systems without trauma. They attempted to demedicalize DID/OSDD, dissociative trauma disorders. Why would you demedicalize a medical condition? So you can make it harder for them to get help? Did you know that this movement started with DIDOSDD systems who rejected recovery? Your movement is rooted in anti-recovery.

You’ve seen all the medical terms that pro-endos like to steal right? System, alter, switching, fronting, dormancy, intergration, splitting, protector, persecutor, little, caretaker, etc etc. It’s all supposed to be medical terms for systems but endos have stolen and appropriated anything they possibly can.

‘Traumascum’ is a term that some pro-endos like to use. Do I even need to explain why that’s messed up?

‘Sysmed’ is also a term that endos like to use, going off the use of transmed. This is transphobic for comparing gender identity to a mental illness, and comparing a mental illness to gender identity. The use of the term as a negative connotation means... What? It’s bad to medicalize systemhood? You want to demedicalize these life-changing disorders? You DO want to bar these people from the help they need? And what for? Just do you can feel better. Trans systems have voiced their concerns about the use of the term, yet they are ignored and silenced because they disagree with pro-endos. Here is a very well thought out post on it

Have you heard of tulpas? They are a sacred buddhist practice. Yet pro-endos have appropriated the hell out of this practice, and conflated it with systemhood. Here is an explanation full of sources on the subject

I’m sure you know about the recent doxxing that’s happened. At least 3 anti-endos were doxxed, all of them POC and minors. Doesn’t seem like much of a coincidence, honestly! Dramaticsyscourse is one of those who were doxxed. Rape and murder threats were sent as well

Account I believe to be deactivated, stealing from systems. More here

Here is an example of a pro-endo admitting to ignoring the concerns of a system who pointed out their ableism. 

Here is a pro-endo calling a system the r slur and telling them to die

Plaindamndisgusting is a pro-endo who loves to harass people unprovoked!

https://ultrabright-flashlight.tumblr.com/post/678233288001945600/yeah-yeah-im-the-good-guy-abon

https://ultrabright-flashlight.tumblr.com/post/678233487070953472/you-harassed-me-and-my-friends

https://ultrabright-flashlight.tumblr.com/post/678233613993705472/screenshot-my-blog-expise-me

https://ultrabright-flashlight.tumblr.com/post/678233847335452672/i-suffer-from-horrific-psychosis-and-bpd-and

This is a really big one honestly.

QueerAutism tends to just make claims and avoid backing it up

A pro-endo singlet’s infantilization of a system voicing their concerns

More infantilization, bonus of being incredibly condescending

@/queeradhd is a pro-endo singlet who’s voice is lifted above systems because they lick the boots of endos

@/Sophieinwonderland is the one of the most supported voices in DID/OSDD talks, and yet, she doesn’t have any dissociative disorder! She said it herself! She’s mostly supported by endos. They will really do whatever they can for the sake of validation. Also, here’s her making excuses for egging on hallucinations and delusions

More on encouraging delusions. Don’t try to tell me this person suffers from psychosis or schizophrenia, having something doesn’t excuse you from ableism to it

Endo supporter encouraging denial

They really treat this disorder like a gender

I’ve deleted the reblogs after the original post was taken down due to the current situation, but while anti-endos were being doxxed, an endo decided to make a blocklist. Potential victims, whoopee! 

Fetishizing japanese people for the sake of making up an origin(kawaiigenic)

This is straight up wrong. Dissociative disorders ARE trauma disorders. The reason it doesn’t list trauma as a requirement is because this disorder is meant to make you forget trauma. Separating dissociative disorders from trauma disorders is extremely dangerous and roots systems in denial. This user went on to tell people trying to correct their dangerous misinfo that they shouldn’t interact. Here is a well made post explaining it, using the DSM.

So many systems have been manipulated into heavy denial of trauma, symptoms, dissociation, and everything to tell themselves they’re endogenic. I do not have the words to describe how dangerous and harmful this is. You guys are all about believing lived experiences with no criticism or scrutiny whatsoever no matter what, right? Well, believe these ones, then. Here is more on the damage pro-endos have done to systems

There’s another blog I know that receives so much shitty harassment from endos, but I don’t want to show that right now cause they’re going through a hard time atm. They don’t need any more of this shit

The only thing that matters to endos is validation, and you MUST believe and support anything they say, no matter what. Don’t ask for sources or anything,or you’re a bigot because you don’t immediately believe anything you read on the internet. If they make a claim they are right, they’re always right, if you disagree you’re wrong and everything psychology has researched is wrong, they are the exception to reality because they said so. They can and will silence and talk over disabled people, POC, trans people, ANYONE necessary for validation. And here you are, proving my point, trying to silence my concerns over what you’re doing. Disregarding and disbelieving the things I tried to tell you.

Minorities ONLY deserve to be heard if they support you.

You may say you’re ‘just trying to exist’, but really, just be claiming to be endogenic you’re spreading dangerous misinformation.

And ultimately, there’s no real proof that being an endogenic system is actually possible. The ‘sources’ you have are demanding we believe whatever you say, misinterpreting actual resources, biased websites, and anything else that isn’t legitimate.

We are not insisting that you need to fit a super specific box of what a system is. Systems are diverse! We’re only asking you to fit the BASIC CRITERIA. If you do not fit the basic criteria, you are not a system, and you should stop talking over us.

The main concern endos have is simple validity. The concerns anti-endos have is the demedicalization, stigmatization, and dangerous misinformation about systems.

Some other instances of endogenic harassment:

(In that last one, QueerAutism is coming after someone unproked, then misusing the term gaslighting, which is insensitive to gaslighting victims)

Shit sent to memoriesofthecircularroom:

https://memoriesofthecircularroom.tumblr.com/post/678918032934010880/all-sysmeds-are-scum

https://memoriesofthecircularroom.tumblr.com/post/678882226559139841/stop-fucking-harassing-sophie

https://memoriesofthecircularroom.tumblr.com/post/678851430416842752/jfc-i-was-being-genuine-no-need-to-be-an-asshole

Can’t wait for some pro-endo to come and talk over me again because I only deserve to be heard if I validate them. 

Thank you to everyone who pitched in for this post! If anybody has more to add on, feel free to do so

[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!

[noteguk]

Hey nala! I loved bad attitude, I can’t wait to see more of the oc teasing jk 😭

Thank you!! I really like exploring the dark side of the force that overtakes the oc every once in a blue moon. So I hope you guys like this one! (The timeline is after bad reputation, but before bad attitude) 

[ ! ] this is a drabble for bad influence. You can read it as a stand-alone. 

— contents and warnings; pwp, smut, sexting, badboy!Jungkook x goodgirl!reader, enemies with benefits/enemies to lovers, dirty talk, taking and sending pics (not nudes), jk’s skirt thirst, a glimpse into the chaos that lives inside the oc 

— words; 1,2k

~ 

Years of high school (and now college) excellence did wonders to disguise your impulsive side. It was a common misconception to believe that, just because you were disciplined enough to keep your grades high and your responsibilities in check, you didn’t act on dumb, random thoughts that popped up inside your head. You kind of wished it was true (it would’ve saved you a lot of drama in your personal life) but you also had to admit that you had your fun indulging in your more chaotic needs as well. 

Jungkook’s answer came quickly, but not as quickly as you had first expected. Which meant that he was either busy or distracted — past tense — and that it would be slightly more fun than you thought. 

With a smirk growing on your lips, you turned around on the bed, reaching for your phone. His answer was simple, only one word, but it was more than enough for you to realize that your machiavellian plan would be fruitful. 

jk tutoring 🚫: dont.

If years of perfecting self-restraint didn’t stop you, his half-assed warning wouldn’t. With your phone in hands, you propped yourself up on your elbows as you typed a response. 

You: Why not? 😔

As you nervously waited for his text, the picture you had previously sent him was staring you right in the face. It wasn’t anything outrageous, just a simple mirror selfie of you sitting on the edge of your bed, legs crossed and head slightly tilted to the side. It was something so innocent, so gentle and casual, that you could almost pretend that you didn’t know exactly what you were doing when you picked that skirt.

It wasn’t any revolutionary discovery to claim that Jungkook had a thing for your skirts — he had mentioned about a million times already and, even if he hadn’t, it was extremely obvious from the way he explored your body with a lot more eagerness when you wore one. What was a revolutionary discovery, however, was the piece of clothing you found hiding in the corner of your closet, something you had long discarded because Yongsun had managed to shrink it the first time she washed it. 

It was practically impossible to wear it outside, but, well, it was the perfect tool to provoke Jungkook with. Because if karma didn’t take care of him, you would. 

Finally, his messages popped up on your screen: 

jk tutoring 🚫: in a lab rn dont wanna get hard thx

jk tutoring 🚫: but it looks rlly fucjing hot 

jk tutoring 🚫: wanna see you riding me in it bby 

jk tutoring 🚫: in front of that mirror ;) 

You bit your lip, bubbles of expectation starting to pop in your stomach. Sexting Jungkook was the free trial of being a chess genius — you were always ten steps ahead, predicting his following words with almost perfect accuracy. Was it mean, perhaps a little twisted of you to be doing that while he was (miraculously) in class? Maybe. But you had a lot of things in your mind and mercy wasn’t one of them. Especially after the months of torture he had put you through. 

You: whatever you want 🥰 

You: I’m surprised you even go to class tho, that’s news 

jk tutoring 🚫: u took the day off to pester me? 

You: maybe I did

You: maybe I’m also home alone for the rest of it 

jk tutoring 🚫: dont fucking say that 

In true supervillain fashion, you had to laugh at his apparent desperation — a high-pitched, victorious laugh that seemed to come straight from your soul. Jungkook very rarely found himself in that position and you absolutely lived for it. It was one thing to provoke him in person, when he was much stronger than you and could shut you up in no time, but, through the screen, only equal rights. And equal methods of torture.

You: why? You don’t wanna come over? 

jk tutoring 🚫: u kno I do 

jk tutoring 🚫: ill ttyl

You: not later!! Now 🥺 

jk tutoring 🚫: baby this isn’t the best moment 

jk tutoring 🚫: Im already hard n im almost done here ok

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, giving the angel and the demon on your shoulders time to present their case. The collected, rational part of you told you to leave it at that: he would come over later, you had managed to provoke him enough to piss him off and get the reaction you wanted. You won. But the impulsive, evil side of you told you that you didn’t win hard enough. 

Before you could think too much about it, you took another picture, feeling blessed enough to get a good shot on your first try. Your thumbs flew over the keys, typing fast to get the message sent before Jungkook decided to put his phone away. 

You: but these are the panties that you like 😔 

Like clockwork, there was a long moment of tension between your message being viewed and those little dots appearing at the corner of your screen. Once again: you knew exactly what you were doing. And you knew that a picture taken underneath your skirt, presenting him with a full view of your red laced panties, would be the cherry on top. 

jk tutoring 🚫: I fucjing hate u

You: don’t think you do 

jk tutoring 🚫: im saving these 

jk tutoring 🚫: gonna fuck u so hard bby 

jk tutoring 🚫: not even gonna take those off 

jk tutoring 🚫: just gonna push them aside n see u coming all over my cock 

Playing like that with Jungkook was like russian roulette — only, it was only you, and all chambers were filled. You knew it would backfire, you knew that the second he walked in your room all your control would go flying out the window, and yet you pushed on. Impulsiveness was a drug for someone that rarely indulged in it, and you were too high to care about the consequences when they seemed so far away. Or, even worse, when you kind of liked them. 

That was what pushed you to write your following messages: 

You: come over now? Please? 

jk tutoring 🚫: wait like 10 min we’re wrapping up 

You: now 🥺 

You: I’m so wet kook 

You: my panties are soaked 

You: don’t you wanna come and take them off? 

You: Or maybe I can take care of myself today and I can see you another day 😔

jk tutoring 🚫: dont fucking dare

You: I bet I could come super quick too I’m so turned on 

You: I want to feel you inside me 

You: I’m so tight too I can barely put my fingers in

You: please? Come over? 

Checkmate. The forces of chaos inside you were rejoicing, every cell of your body anticipating the impact of your words. You, however, already knew you had won even before he answered you. 

jk tutoring 🚫: im coming over rn

~

check out the rest of the bad influence collection!

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[burnedbyshoto]

kacchan, kaacchan, kaachan

— “Your real fucking Kaa-chan is going to fuck your brains out and make sure that you can’t say that stupid fucking nickname to Bakugou without getting hard and remembering what I’m about to do to you, Deku,” you practically snarled into Izuku’s ear as you rut the silicone veined cock between his ready, supple cheeks. “Now, what’s my fucking name?”

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pairing: midoriya izuku x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, mommy kink, dom!reader, sub!izuku, pegging, jealous!reader, degradation, anal fingering, begging, crying, marking and biting, best friends(?) bkdk

word count: 6,520

a/n: I have transcended. im sorry, this is now my favorite fic. im... ohhh mama, I just froth at this idea so much, please if you aren’t so utterly disgusted by mommy kink or bkdk pray you read this. p l e a s e.

kinktober day 13 main kink: pegging | kinktober masterlist

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“I fucking hate them,” you growled, temples throbbing in your anger, fingers clutching your drink. “I’m going to kill Izuku and his stupid fucking Kacchan.”

You met Midoriya Izuku before high school. At the time, you had been a sweating, nervous middle schooler who was applying for Yuuei, who was sitting right next to him during the entrance exam. Despite the way your hands were shaking the entire time you were taking the test, and the way your stomach felt seconds from exiting your abdominal cavity and falling straight onto your lap, you smiled. You kept watching the green-haired boy next you continue to fanboy over the smallest of things. 

Through this, you had also met Bakugou Katsuki. You had initially thought the two of them were friends, well with the rather weird nicknames they had for each other, and then the small disgruntled comment on not being able to work together with friends. 

After being dismissed to go change out of your school uniforms, you had tapped on the green-haired boy. He was muttering a storm under his breath. He wasn’t much taller than you, and his green eyes were shot wide when you thanked him for making you less nervous. He didn’t say anything back to you, a red blush bright on his face as you wished him luck before racing off.

So on the first day of high school, on the fated orientation day, you had been surprised to see that Midoriya and Bakugou nearly fought. They weren’t friends, you quickly figured out, a small frown on your face as Aizawa-sensei dropped Bakugou from his capture weapon. It didn’t take much for you to become friends with the initially timid, but entirely confident Midoriya Izuku. The two of you were fast friends, and before long after watching countless times where Midoriya and Bakugou would be at each other's throats to only be okay within the next few hours.

It confused you entirely.

Eventually, one day on your way home together one night, you finally asked Midoriya.

Midoriya had frowned, his eyes looking out of the speeding window as he slowly explained his relationship with Bakugou to you. He explained that he and Bakugou were childhood friends, having first met when they were three years old. They had been good friends, best friends if it was possible to have one back then. Then, their quirks appeared, and Bakugou received endless praise and awe — it was a changing point in their relationship since Midoriya explained that he was a rare individual who only manifested his quirk within the last few years. So while Bakugou had never put him down for being quirkless, a single moment happened when they were about six years old, wandering in a gated woods area, and Midoriya went to see if Bakugou — who had fallen from a great height — was okay. From that moment on, something flipped inside Bakugou, and he lashed out. He smiled sadly, admitting without a lick of doubt that Bakugou was a jerk to him, a real asshole.

As if to save Bakugou from an ill opinion from you, Midoriya quickly imputed that Bakugou was still one of the lesser antagonizers he had in middle school and at the end of grade school. Most of his other classmates had been his bigger bullies. Still, because Bakugou was just different to both him and the school as a whole, the few times he antagonized Midoriya, it seemed to wave into ripples that turned into tsunami wave crashes. Midoriya had explained that he had gone too far in a single instance and that it still hurt thinking about it. He would like an apology from Bakugou but didn’t know how or if it would happen. After all, Bakugou hadn’t bullied or antagonized him at all for the last full year.

You had taken it all in, watching the small green-haired boy look both sad and determined as the metro pulled into your station.

“You still want to be friends with him, huh?” you asked, ignoring the people clambering out and in of the vehicle. 

Midoriya had looked at you with wide eyes and his teeth bitten, swollen lips pressed into a flat line, his head dropping, “Is it weird that I do?”

Chuckling, you shook your head, moving to leave the metro, “A little, you guys definitely will have to put some work into it, but hey, as long as you know that he’s done you wrong before, I think you deserve to find out if you two can make it work again.”

That had happened at the end of your first month of school.

At the end of your second year of school, you had confessed your feelings to Midoriya Izuku, who thankfully, returned your feelings.

At the end of your third year of school, you had watched with bright eyes and a great smile as your boyfriend hugged his childhood friend Bakugou Katsuki as the graduation streamers and confetti still swirled in the air. You and your entire group of female friends, who for the past two years had been trying to get both boys to confess that they were best friends with each other, seemed to have succeeded. They had obviously been friends by the end of the first year; both boys have gotten to speak on their many different feelings and thoughts at the end of the first year. But it had taken seven girls, two more years, and a late-night discussion between you and Izuku for you to figure out that no matter what happened with his relationship with his Kacchan, he would be at peace with it. He had chased him for so long, for such crazy lengths and obstacles that the moment when they found peace, he had accepted it.

But you knew what would happen if you had gotten the ever so annoying, permanent tsundere of Bakugou Katsuki to admit where the lengths of their friendship were at currently. You had guessed correctly because Izuku was absolutely sobbing as Bakugou hugged him. It could have been an awkward moment between them. The two of them never touched one another unless it was because they were roughhousing, training, or assisting one another in the middle of a fight. But your heart warmed at the sight of your boyfriend, entirely built and tall as he was now, blushing as he still does, scarred fingers and arms holding his Kacchan tight, the happy tears on his face rushing down his cheeks as Bakugou seemed to be blinking up a storm.

You have succeeded.

Best friends, you squealed internally, grabbing the girls and walking away to take some photos together. You had finally gotten them to admit that they were best friends again.

It should have made you happy, and for a while, it did make you glad to know your loving boyfriend was over the moon happy to have this small detail confirmed with him, but two years post-graduation, it was straight up annoying and made you somewhat... livid. 

It started when your classmates began to whisper about how strong you were to let Izuku and Bakugou be that close. Then reporters asked about how you felt about the Wonder Duo’s relationship outside of the field. Fans straight up saying that they liked them better than you and Izuku, fans asking if you felt lesser than Ground Zero in Pro Hero Deku’s life. At first, you had always expressed your truths, you didn’t care what others thought because you knew the truth, but they must have been annoying you for so damn long that you were beginning to feel doubtful, just the tad bit anxious. 

Izuku had asked if you wanted to go to a bar for a night of some drinking. Well, with the both of you not having work tomorrow, you had agreed. It had been a while since the two of you had been able to do anything. So a night at the bar the two of you frequented a lot was a great start to a long night the two of you were undoubtedly going to have if the lace panties under your skirt had anything to say about it. You thanked the gods of every deity every night for making your boyfriend such a stupid pervert that a single whisper of what you were wearing would have him turning red and stumbling out of the bar to get you home immediately.

Well, that was the plan.

But no, nope, nope, nope, nope.

In the middle of your flirting session with Izuku, who still could not keep up with your quick, slick tongue, his phone had rung. It wasn’t abnormal that it went off, he was an incredibly gifted hero, and with his recent sort of permanent team up with his Kacchan to form a hero duo, they were hot shit.

But it wasn’t a work call.

No, it took two seconds to figure that out because Izuku had placed his phone to his ear, his cheeks pink, and eyes sparkling as he immediately chirped out: “Kacchan! Hi!”

And just like that, your flirtatious mood had been stomped on and stabbed over into one of annoyance.

Your boyfriend was a hero otaku; that was something you knew the very moment you met him when both of you were merely fifteen. From that moment on, when your crush was formed on the excitable, blushing otaku, you knew that should you become his girlfriend, there would only be two people above you.

Midoriya Inko then All Might.

Both of those people were completely understandable.

Inko was the best mother in the world, and as Izuku’s most significant and first support system, you didn’t mind losing out to her. She was a fucking sweetheart, after all.

All Might was a slightly annoying one, but as your boyfriend's mentor and father figure, you understood. Plus, the scrawny man was also a sweetheart who flustered over Izuku almost as much as Inko did.

But, you didn’t and couldn’t believe that Bakugou ‘Kacchan’ fucking Katsuki would be challenging your place as third in the most critical person in Midoriya Izuku’s life. You wouldn’t sit idly by on it.

Taking another long, deep chug of the heavy in alcohol percentage drink in your hand, your anger seemed to be at an all-time high. 

Kacchan, Kacchan, Kacchan.

That stupid fucking nickname seemed to pour like liquid gold from Izuku’s mouth.

Kacchan this, Kacchan that, Kacchan yes, Kacchan no.

You knocked back yet another fucking drink, slamming the glass onto the bar counter, demanding another one as Izuku’s deep stupid voice seemed to turn airy as he laughed at something Bakugou Katsuki said. Bakugou Katsuki, who didn’t ever tell jokes because everything he said was stupidly not funny and hated being not serious even for a single second, was making your stupidly thick, built, and strong boyfriend giggle like a schoolgirl. Izuku only laughed like that around you?!

Oh, fucking, no, you realized, your back straightening, your eyes blazing into Izuku’s side profile that still illuminated the deep, intensity of his blinding happy smile. 

“Kacchaaannn!” Izuku suddenly whined, his lips pressing into a pout that wouldn’t form because of his stupid, irritatingly handsome smile. “That’s not fair!”

Growling under your breath, you grabbed the new drink presented to you by the bartender and began chugging.

Kacchan, Kacchan, Kacchan.

Kacchan, Kaacchan, Kaa-chan.

You spluttered, your head light and fuzzy with the inhibiting alcohol as you heard Izuku still rambling on the phone to his dumb fucking Kacchan.

‘Did he just?’ you thought, entirely unprepared for that name to whisper from his mouth.

Kaa-chan, Kaa-chan, Kaa-chan.

You stopped a broken moan from spilling from your mouth at that word. Despite the coursing alcohol in your veins and the way it typically made you hornier slower, that slightly whiny, entirely Izuku’s tone when he said what your horny brain to be interpreting as Kaa-chan, your panties became wet immediately.

“Izuku,” you breathed — almost whined — into his ear. Your chest pressed against his muscled arm—your mouth pressing open-mouthed kisses to the back of his ear before biting down on his earlobe. 

“Y-Y-Yes, y/n?” Izuku stammered, his face flushing, mind entirely lost at the feeling of your breasts pressing onto his arm and probably his stupid Kacchan’s voice in his other ear. 

“I’m wearing those panties you really, really like,” you moaned softly into his ear, your teeth nibbling on his earlobe.

You never heard Izuku hang up so quickly on his Kacchan as he downed his drink and quickly followed after you, a puppy at your heels.

The two of you made it home, mouths pressing fervently together, fingers in each other’s hair and clothes. You giggled when you managed to push your much larger boyfriend into the door the moment you both managed to enter your apartment. 

His scarred fingers had invaded the underneath of your skirt, already pressing his fingertips to the lacey fabric. He moaned against your mouth, his hands pervertedly gripping your full ass in his large, hot palms. 

“Call me Kaa-chan,” you suddenly moaned, your mouth tearing away from Izuku’s reveling in the fact that he tried to chase after your mouth. It was at moments like this that being so much smaller than your skyscraper of your boyfriend helped — the third year of high school had made your entire male classmates grow an additional near one hundred centimeters, fucking ridiculous. 

“W-What?!” Izuku spluttered, his eyes wide but still entirely glazed over with his lust.

“Kaa-chan,” you slur, the alcohol in your veins and his kisses on your lips, making your brain mush. “Call me, Kaa-chan, please!”

“I-I can’t? I’m not going to call you, Kacchan! T-That’s so weird? You don’t even look like him, and even if you did, I’m sure that would be entirely not okay! That’s Kacchan’s nickname, and for me to just use it in bed would make me think that I’m having sex with Kacchan, and I bet you’d agree about how not okay that would be! Imagine that! That would be not okay, but if there’s anything else you want me to call you in bed, although, you do have the best reactions to me whenever I call you—” Izuku rambled, his eyes searching the dark hallway for something to focus on. His face red with slight humiliation and his muttering tongue speeding so fast you could barely keep up with his sentences with your drunken brain. 

“Not Kacchan,” you roll your eyes, your hands pressed to his side, trapping him between your arms — something that was a hilarious sight. “Kaa-chan, Izuku-chan, Kaa-chan.”

“O-Oh.”

You pulled away from the wall, your eyes bright with what you thought would finally be the tipping point in your biggest kink finding a spot in your sex life with Izuku.

But Izuku begins laughing, his head shaking quickly, the laughter so loud that you watch literal tears form in his eyes as he stands there. Your cunt suddenly feels dry.

“I-I can’t do that,” Izuku finally manages to press through, his hand on his stomach as small laughs still manage to breakthrough. “Oh, god, no, I can’t. I’ll always think of Kacchan when — if I call you kaa-chan.”

Your lips pressed together, anger flushing through your blood as you nod your head once.

“Fine.”

“Y-Y/n!” Izuku bawks, his eyes wide as he quickly understood that he hurt your feelings with that outburst of his. “W-Wait, I mean—”

“No need,” you cement over, lips pursed in your shaking anger. “Give me some time alone, please.”

Izuku can only watch with wide, tearful eyes as you guide him out of your apartment, and you don’t look at him when you close the door, too afraid of what those puppy dog eyes would do to you. You needed time after being laughed at like that; your pride demanded it.

.

..

.

It took less than five hours for you to forgive Izuku. He had stayed in the hallway of your apartment. Sitting outside of your door, waiting for you to message him of some sort about wanting to talk. You hadn’t precisely forgiven him, just wouldn’t allow your more often than not perfect boyfriend to be trapped outside, sleeping in a terrible position on your day off. So at nearly two am, your eyes refusing to close and fall asleep, you trudged to your front door and demanded he gets in or else he’d sleep in the hallway.

Izuku had looked up at you with tired, sad eyes, and your throat tightened as you looked away with a huff. He had gotten to his feet and walked into your apartment, kissing you softly as the door closed behind the two of you. Despite you having been the one to kick him out earlier, he carried you to your room as you began to cry again. He undressed to just his boxers, and the two of you cuddled each other before the both of you fell asleep, feeling slightly better.

Although you hated to admit it, everything was back to normal the following morning.

Well, that is until the fateful day when you were straddled across Izuku’s waist, his thick, long cock stretching you out as much as it felt that first time you fucked, riding him until his hands left bruising prints on your hips. You knew what made Izuku tick, moan, and go absolutely feral in bed; you knew him so well, and if the indicating throbbing of his swollen cock had anything to say, was that he was seconds from cumming.

Again, this was a fateful day.

His work phone suddenly screeched at the nightstand, and you both screamed at the horror.

What was happening?!

Not bothering to unmount from his cock, Izuku grabbed his phone and placed it to his ear.

“Hello, Deku, speaking!”

You pouted from on top of him, still rather pleased that his cock was still firm within you, and you watched his face, ready to send the blood in his cock right back to his head and get him out the front door if it was an emergency.

“K-KACCHAN?! THIS ISN’T AN EMERGENCY!” Izuku screamed, his face pounding red as his free arm collapsed over his eyes.

You were going to kill motherfucking shithead, Bakugou Katsuki.

Your eyes narrowed, and with the fury of being cockblocked by your boyfriend's stupid best friend in a whole new way, you began to shift your hips against his cock. Your hips rising and falling as you continued to fuck Izuku, uncaring that he was on the phone.

Izuku, never having been good at being secretive, let out a strangled choke and a moan, his hand thrown over his eyes trying to get a solid hold on your hips to keep you from fucking yourself against him. He froze, his face exploding with heat the moment you forcibly clenched around his thick length, “I-I-I’m at y/n’s apartment! Kacchan! NO! We were having sex!”

Rolling your eyes, you knew he was going to blab that secret out.

“We are having sex right now, K-Kacchan!” Izuku whimpered, downright hilarious of the brick wall of a pro hero could do. “Kacchan, that’s not fair! You called on my emergency-only phone! Of course, I was going to pick up!”

Red bled into your vision as you realized that Bakugou undoubtedly was talking shit about your ability to fuck your own boyfriend. 

“Kacchan!” Izuku groaned again, but you were far past the point of being okay with this situation.

Grabbing the phone from Izuku’s hand, you slammed the phone to your ear, listening to the chortling laughter of Bakugou fucking Katsuki.

“You fucking piece of fucking shit, try calling this number again without a proper fucking emergency next time, and I’ll kill. you!” you spat into the phone, your blood boiling as the laughter on the other side of the line stopped, only for you to be met with an irritated and challenge-accepted growl of Bakugou Katsuki, who was seconds from responding back with his own threat and challenge. But you hung up, chucking the phone into the corner of the room before setting your sight on Izuku who’s eyes and pupils were blown wide.

You couldn’t even begin to process that your words had turned Izuku on; you could barely feel his throbbing, twitching cock buried deep in your womb because your inner walls held a vice, unbreakable grip on him. Kacchan, Kacchan, Kacchan, Kacchan, Kacchan, Kacchan. You had finally heard that stupid fucking nickname in bed, and still, the way it was said and who it was for wasn’t for you, and you were absolutely frothing.

“Kacchan, Kacchan, Kacchan,” you spit out, fury and animosity, your hips still slamming down on his cock, Izuku’s scarred hands once again reaching for your waist. “Is there any other fucking name you can ramble in bed?!”

Izuku cries out, his hips snapping up to meet yours, the echoing slap of your meeting sexes still not loud enough to tune out your angry, abhorrent thoughts. 

“N-No?!” Izuku stammers out, confusion heavy on his tongue, and you know why, but you don’t care. “I-I-I don’t! What else am I supposed to sayyyy oh my god, baby! What am I supposed to call Kacchan?!”

A cold shiver runs down your spine, and you smile slowly. You wait for green eyes to open and lock on you before your smile becomes cunning, altogether ferocious, and biting as your hand reaches out and grabs the curls at the nape of his neck. You yank on the hair towards you, watching as his neck arches, and you coo at the breathless gasp that spills from his mouth as your lips are at his ear, his cock threatening to slip out of your boiling cunt at this new angle. There’s a growl on your tone, your lips brushing against the soft cartilage of his ear. “Say Kaa-chan, Kaa-chan, Kaa-chan. Since you fucking want your damn fucking Kacchan so badly that you can’t even indulge in my little nickname, I’ll make sure to ruin the damn fucking nickname for you forever.”

You pull away, your hissing words sitting heavy in his ears as you slip off his cock and stumble to the closet for your toys. 

Izuku lets out a needy noise, his breaths pathetic gasps as he looks at you and away, unable to fully comprehend just what you were planning on doing to him.

Slamming open the closet, you grab the plastic tinted box in the closet, throwing it open and grabbing three items.

One: your pretty green harness. 

You had bought at a sex shop store you frequent whenever you were bored and alone. About six months ago, this particular sex shop had obtained rights to sell Pro Hero styled lingerie and sex toys. This harness was modeled after Izuku’s costume, and you bought it to surprise him with whenever you two got into pegging.

Two: the bottle of lube.

Also purchased from the sex shop. Apparently, it was a lube that was both super cold and hot — obviously modeled after Todoroki. It would start off as cold on the skin before warming up to temperatures that were guaranteed to make people shriek and moan like porn stars.

And last, but definitely not least, your ace up your sleeve: the strap on dildo.

At the same sex shop, they had released a limited quantity, a one-week available dildo that was nearly impossible to accept was a thing. Along their wall of many, many different shapes and sizes of dildos had sat seven limited dildos made from the cocks of pro heroes.

One of which being Ground Fucking Zero: Bakugou Katsuki.

You’re not sure what possessed you into buying it, but you did. The dildo modeled after Bakugou’s own cock was now something you possessed, something you hid from Izuku’s sight at all times. The cock was about eight, nearly nine inches, maintaining a fat, swollen head and base, with thick veins running through its length. 

The dildo itself was completely minimalist, jet black with only the Ground Zero’s logo painted to the bottom of the curve, but if you were to do this, Izuku wouldn’t know it was his best friend's cock until you were done with him. 

Throwing your legs through the harness, you turn your head to lock eyes with Izuku’s bright eyes that are taking in your every move. You fasten the ties, making them just a tad bit tight around your thighs and waist because you knew that Izuku loved seeing the divot in your skin. 

Your eyes are peering through your lashes to look at him, your frown becoming a confident, biting smirk as you attach the dildo, immediately covering your hand with the cold lube before slicking up the silicone cock. Izuku watches you with shaking thighs as you climb back onto the bed, your eyes dark, dangerous, as your fingers drag down his toned and muscled calves.

“Get on your fucking hands and knees like the fucking good boy you are,” you growl out the command, your fingernails digging into his skin. “Show your cute fucking ass to your Kaa-chan.”

Izuku let out a heavy moan as his body quickly shifted over, he got up onto his knees, but he went a step further by pressing onto his knees, letting his scarred back curve beautifully for you. 

You groan at the sight, Izuku's large, muscled ass on full display for you. His body trembles and shakes with every breath he takes and how his muscles are tight with his nervousness. His little asshole clenching and tightening at the air, undoubtedly ready to have you press the cock into him. You groan, your hand that's slick with the lube becoming warmer with the intended promise of the lube, and your grin when you grip his supple asscheeks between your hands, delighting at the way his flesh molds within your hands.

“You have such a pretty little ass, baby boy,” you moan, your index finger circling around the rim of his pert, tight hole. You lean in closer, your hot breaths spilling across his muscle that sends it spasming in its attempts to clench around nothing. “What do you want your Kaa-chan to do?”

Izuku stammers, his mouth unable to form any sort of coherent sentence as you lather your fingers in the cold lube, and without much of an introduction, you slide your slick, cold index finger into his hole. Izuku cries loudly when you move your finger inside of his ass, and you smirk at the sight of his twisted with delirium face before you. Eyes crossed, tongue hanging out as your finger dives into his ass. 

“Does this feel good, baby?” you ask, finger curling deep within his ass.

He can’t find the energy to speak, but strangled noises of approval are made, and his hips shift back onto your thrusting finger.

You enter a new finger, stretching out his tight muscle even further, your two fingers reaching a further depth and more manageable pace than you had before. You grin at the way Izuku begins to fuck himself against your fingers, his asshole looking as if it swallows your fingers as your dildo ruts against his leaking cock. Izuku's chest collapses onto the mattress when you glide your free hand against both the dildo and his cock as you continue to finger his ass — a third finger eventually joining.

“God, your ass is so fucking slutty, sweetie,” you groan, absolutely obsessed with the pink haze on Izuku’s cheeks and the growing moans. “Is your Kaa-chan making you feel good? Kaa-chan promises that she’ll protect you through everything!”

Izuku spams, a loud cry of your name as your fingernails scratch at his walls, and his hips buck further into your fingers deep in his ass before rutting back into your hand, stroking his cock. You coo at how he is clearly enjoying it, chest-thumping with how he clearly wants more, and how you intend to give him more. A sadistic smile carved onto your face as his rambling begins to take shape begins to actually have meaning behind it except the whining, pitiful cries.

“You are!” Izuku finally manages to gasp, his ass slamming back onto your curled three fingers. The lube is now hot as it can grow, and Izuku is obsessed with the heat in his ass. “You’re doing this to me, y/n!”

You freeze, fingers freezing in his ass as Izuku once again refused to call you Kaa-chan.

Well then.

Freeing your fingers from deep in his ass, your upper lip curled into a snarl as you doused the Ground Zero dildo with the ice-cold lube, your blood roaring in your ear. It just seemed that you were going to have to take that nickname by force.

Slapping the lube coated dildo between the valley of his pretty, beautiful asscheeks, you grabbed his head of curls, snapping his head back so that his ear was a lick away. “Listen to what I’m about to fucking do, I-zu-ku,” you accentuate his name, your free hand gripping his slick cock, and fisting it slowly, your grip tightening whenever he tried to rut into your grip. “Your real fucking Kaa-chan is going to fuck your brains out and make sure that you can’t say that stupid fucking nickname to Bakugou without getting hard and remembering what I’m about to do to you, Deku,” you practically snarled into Izuku’s ear. Izuku freezes for a second, deep flushed red exploding on his face before he moans loudly, face burying into the mattress as you rut the silicone veined cock between his ready, supple cheeks. “Now, what’s my fucking name?”

“Kacchan…” Deku’s mouth fumbles, unable to find that distinction even like this, but that’s okay, you got time.

“Again, Deku,” you snap, watching as a shiver slams down his spine at the nickname, and you press the head of the cold, lube coated dildo against his ready, clenching asshole.

“Kaa-aachan!” Deku moans loudly, and you press the head of the black dildo into his ass, watching as his slutty little ass swallows the head without a single problem. His back arches further, and his ass shakes as you keep him from falling further on his Kacchan’s cock.

“Are you having that much fucking trouble distinguishing who’s fucking you right now, Deku?!” you practically seethe, your fingernails digging into his firm, plump ass before beginning to drag the cockhead away.

“No!” Deku sobs, his ass pathetically following after your exiting cock. “I’m not Kaa-chan, I promise!”

Oh, the golden words you’ve been looking for.

With a widespread, near-feral grin, you slammed the whole cock within him, not stopping until you couldn’t see the black of the dildo, and your thighs were pressed against his ass. The noises that spilled from Izuku’s mouth with sinful, lewd, and made you think for a second the hot and cold lube was in your cunt. His mouth continued to speak at a speed you couldn’t understand, his ass greedily sucking the dildo in with no thought to return it.

“I-It feels so good!” Deku cries, his ass slapping backward onto your strap. “Your cock is so good!”

“Damn fucking right it is, Deku,” you laughed, hands gripping his hips and with a determined show to make sure he knew just who the superior Kaacchan was, you began to rut your hips back up again his. 

Your pace was a lot faster than Deku’s, thighs crashing against his ass with every successive pound of your hips. Deku, who’s always been so good about being responsive in bed, is crying and moaning like a bitch in heat. His moans are endless and delightfully loud, his ass slamming backward to meet your rutting hips, and you can't help but land a loud spank against his sweet ass.

“How is this feeling, Deku? Tell your Kaa-chan how your shitty little hole is feeling?” you laugh, your body leaning over his, your lips and teeth marking up his sweaty, scarred back with bites marks and hickies. “Tell your Kaa-chan how it feels to have your shitty asshole fucked like this?”

“It feels sooo good, Kaa-chan!” Deku sobs and you shiver at the power behind that stupid little nickname. “My Kaa-chan is making me feel so good, so loved! Kaa-chan’s cock is stretching my ass out so good, her cock makes my stomach and ass feel so funny, but I d-don’t want it to end!”

His back is arched, and his fingers can no longer clutch the fabric of the mattress, and it’s all overwhelming as you fuck into him faster, more demanding, with more intention to have him be yours forever.

“My precious little Deku looks so fucking cute when he’s crying for his Kaa-chan,” you pant, your thrusts becoming sloppier with your heightened pleasure, knowing just whose cock he was crying for. His stupid Kacchan could never do this. 

The raw noises of wanton pleasure rip from Deku’s throat and his ass comes down to fuck back on your strap on with greater power, faster speed. You keep up, though, you have to prove your worth, you’ll fuck his brains out until the only thing he can call you is his Kaa-chan. You grip his hips, your knees shifting as you find a new angle, a better angle as you drill the cock in faster and further in, bottoming out in him with every stroke of your bucking hips. 

“Fuck!” he screams, his knees almost wholly giving out on you as you drive against his prostate. The cock and angle you had quickly allowing you such a pleasure as you fuck into him faster. And upon the tenth slam against his prostate, Deku is shouting. “Fuck, fuck, fuck Kaa-chan!”

Drool is pouring onto the bed, and you feel on fire as Deku continues to whimper, continues to cry your name, claiming that his Kaa-chan has never made him feel this good before. Your hands move from his waist and find themselves latched onto his curls and fisting his cock again. The power that hums through your body makes you see stars as he cries at the pain of having his hair yanked backward, and having your fingers press against the head of his weeping, pre-cum drenched cock.

“Oh, poor pathetic Deku,” you snarl despite the grin on your face, sweat drips down your temple, and you laugh. “Does your pathetic fucking cock need to cum? Do you need to cum while your Kaa-chan’s cock fucks you?”

“Y-Yes Kaa-chan!” Deku screams, his tongue falling from his mouth, his eyes dazed in his hysteria. “Yes, Kaa-chan! I want to cum on your cock, please let me cum on your cock!”

Your cunt throbs from your arousal and lack of stimulus, but the apparent slick in your lips that is slowly dripping down your thighs, makes your next train of thought seem worlds apart hot. The hand in his curls fists his hair harder, snapping Deku closer, making his back arch further. The hand around his cock pinches his cock head together, a pain you had discovered that never failed to get him to cum. And your hips, the hips that drove the Ground Zero dildo further into his tight, greedy asshole, slammed viciously and barbarically into his pretty little asshole.

Deku praises your cock again, his eyes fluttering shut as he cries for his Kaa-chan’s cock, and in a blind fit of victory, your lips press against his ear and whisper to him the truth.

“I’m actually fucking you with your Kacchan’s cock,” you admit, feeling Deku go rigid beneath you. “I know you know what I’m talking about, Deku. So yes, I bought it just to fuck you with it, and look! It’s Kacchan’s cock, but it's your Kaa-chan who’s making you feel so. good. with it!”

And with one last driving slam of Kacchans cock into Deku’s slutty, needy hole, you can feel his cock spasm within your hold, and the way his ass tightens beautifully around the dildo, and he collapses with a pitiful, pathetic: “Oh my god.”

Your hand is coated in his hot, heavy load of cum. You pull away from him, and you laugh, watching as Deku moves onto his back, his eyes fluttering with a million emotions as you bring your hand to your mouth and lick his musty cum clean from your hand. 

“Now,” you cough, slipping the harness from your waist and thighs and climbing back onto his awaiting, still semi-hard cock. You moaned at the feeling of his cock hardening back within your crazy soaked cunt. “Kaa-chan wants you to suck your Kaa-chan’s tits, and then you’ll be rewarded for being. So. Good.”

His eyes swim with uncertainty before he blinks, his hips rutting up to meet your cunt, and his mouth latching onto your needy nipple.

“Anything for you, Kaa-chan.”

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

Bonus!

Due to Bakugou calling on Izuku’s emergency-only phone, Bakugou had come over with an apology dinner made for the two of you. You sat at the table, Bakugou sitting in front of you, Izuku, to your side in the square table Izuku owned. 

Bakugou was already frowning, his body language trying to hide the apparent surprise that went through him when Izuku opened the door and greeted him as ‘Bakugou-kun!’ 

Had you known his reaction would be that pathetic, you wouldn’t have bothered to accept his dinner. You would have sufficed with that moment being caught on camera instead.

But no, Izuku loved Bakugou’s cooking, and you were now sitting here, glaring at Bakugou, who was glaring right back at you.

However, you knew Bakugou wanted to understand why his childhood nickname had suddenly been abandoned, and you had strategically placed Izuku’s favorite drink near the empty seat. Closer to you than it was to Bakugou because you knew that asshole was quicker than most.

“Oh, Kaa-chan, do you mind passing me my drink?” Izuku asked before flushing at the realization of what he called you in front of Bakugou.

But Bakugou didn’t notice, how could he?

Because both of you had made for his drink, and you just managed to snatch it before Bakugou did as you watched in evil elation as Bakugou quickly placed two and two together. Handing the glass to Izuku, you smiled, as he stammered out an embarrassed thank you.

“Sorry, boys, I’m actually needed somewhere tonight,” you lie, rising to your feet as Bakugou’s eyes rage with something you can’t name but love nonetheless. “I’ll leave you two alone, I’ll be back!”

You don’t let Izuku’s embarrassed begs for you to say deter you, your fingers grabbing your boyfriend by the chin before kissing him deeply, shoving your tongue into his mouth for good measure as you look at the still, void Bakugou when you break away.

You don’t know what happens as you leave, but the way that Izuku’s less superior Kacchan snaps his name makes your toes curl with pleasure.

Oh, you really liked this.

[cursestothemoon]

Hi Charly! Could you do a headcannon about Fred and his virgin girlfriend having sex for the first time? But she’s feeling self conscious because he’s more experienced and she’s worried about not being as good as his past partners not me projecting or anything 🙃

as a virgin who cant drive this request really resonates with me

welcome to the fred show pew pew

ill stop.

17+ IF YOU ARE TAGGED AND DON’T WANT TO BE TAGGED IN SMUT PLEASE LET ME KNOW

warnings:NSFW, vaginal penetration, loss of virginity, fingering

ok so

first i wanna get into fred before you came around

his sex life specifically

i think fred likes to have fun

nothing wrong with that

so yeah he's been around the block

a few times

so he knows what he's doing when it comes to sex

he takes pride in how good he is honestly

but i also think his first time wasn't all that

he probably lost his virginity rather young

14 maybe 15

the girl was 16 maybe 17

and he kind of pressured himself to lose his virginity after hearing his amazingly cool older brothers talking about 'this bird i shagged...'

it was bill

and fred loves bill

idolizes bill

so in his efforts to be just like him he had to lose his virginity

which he did

but he was beyond nervous and fidgety

he's almost certain the girl felt so bad she lied and said she finished when really he was in there for two minutes TOPS

but he got better over time

also he made sure that the person he was with finished first because he's still a little embarrassed abut that first time

george is the only person who knows about his first time, he didn't want anyone else to know

ESPECIALLY bill

anyway

so by the time you guys start dating fred is very experienced in the bedroom

you are not

you are a virgin

thats ok

😌

i feel like fred would just assume your not a virgin if you didn't tell him otherwise

because 1) you are drop dead gorgeous and could get it literally any time you wanted

and 2) he just assumes everyone does it unless told otherwise

you would be talking one day and somehow your first times would come up and fred would go beet red and admit how terrible it was for him

and then you'd kinda just 🙂

because you don't have a first time story

fred would not catch on at first

he would be very confused

then you'd go pink and come out with it

"...i'm a virgin, freddie."

he was honestly surprised

but once he noticed how genuinely uncomfortable you were admitting it, like it was something bad

he'd go into protective, comforting freddie mode

would go above and beyond to tell you that it wasn't a bad thing at ALL and he wishes he would've waited

and then he goes

"now that i know, i'm going to make sure your first time is amazing, love."

then he'd kinda just pause and go red again as he thought about what he said

"i mean, assuming you'd want your first time to be with me. totally cool if not, but i reckon that would be rather odd considering we are dating... unless you are breaking up with me...wait don't break up with me."

you'd just giggle and pull him into a kiss

"i want my first time to be with you, only you."

"i am so glad we are on the same page."

ok fred would go ALL OUT to make sure your first time was amazing

unforgettable

and you ARE finishing.

it would be over summer

you're staying at the burrow for the next month

and fred has it all planned out

you had told him you were ready a few weeks ago and he told you he wanted to surprise you for your first time

so you've just been waiting

he'd set up a cute little tent in the meadows of the burrow

string up some lights in the trees

plethora of blankets and pillows in said tent

wait i forgot their tents are like huge inside

aW WAIT IT WOULD BE LIKE A WHOLE CUTE LITTLE ROOM

STOP🥺

anyway

he'd have some food

some water

many condoms

he's so excited

oK so the sun would just be setting

and fred says he has something to show you outside

he also knows with a full house no one is going to come looking for you two, but just in case george knows the plan and is there for damage control just in case

so you go out with fred and hes practically skipping and hes all giggly

and you are starting to feel his giddiness so you guys are just this giggly mess together

then he gets to the spot

the sex tent

and it's beautiful

you are blown away

and he is just so happy seeing you happy

so you guys eat a little

talk

have some fun

he will feed you food to be romantic

you will get a grape dropped down your shirt

fun times all around

and then your eyes kinda lock

and his are all crinkly from laughing

his freckles just a bit more prominent in the summer season

you are suddenly hit with this intense feeling of love

how much you are in love with him

how much he's in love with you

and you're sure you've never been more ready than you are right now

fred is feeling floaty

you are looking at him with this look in your

and it makes him feel all warm and fuzzy

he'd reach out to cup your cheek, his thumb gently running across your cheek bone

then he'd pull you closer and rest his forehead against yours

your nose would brush and he'd run the tip of his nose along your nose before placing a kiss on it 🥺

you push forward and capture his lips in a kiss

and its on.

he pulls you into his lap

you guys are in heavy a make out

his hands are on your ass

your hands are in his hair

then he pushes you closer with his hands on your butt

the feeling of his hardening cock in his trousers against your clothed clit has you shuddering because jesus christ almighty

you've never felt anything like that before

you whimper into his mouth and fred is sure he's died and gone to heaven

so he does it again

after a few more times youre moving your hips on your own accord

you'd never admit to him that you'd fantasized about this very moment

in this very position

but instead of him it was a pillow you were grinding against

anyway

you guys moved to the bed in the tent

fred pulls away and he's holding your face in his hands so gently and looking at you with so much love

"I need to know that you are completely certain that you want this. I need you to be absolutely sure, love."

"I want this. I want you."

there was no hesitation in your voice

so he'd slowly take off both your clothes making sure that at any given moment he's got more off then you to make sure you never feel uncomfortable or embarrassed

so like if you've got your shirt off, fred has his off two and is working on his pants THEN he'd move your pants

now you are in your bra and underwear

he's in his briefs

and he can't help but take you all in

your skin

your curves

each dip and line

everything about you is just so beautiful

and he's just barely touching you as he's dragging the back of his fingers down from your neck to your belly button just watching as your skin erupts in goosebumps

he's never seen anything so beautiful

i think it was in that moment that he knew, no matter what, he would always be in love with you

all of you

he looks for your approval before reaching behind you and unhooking your bra

when your bra comes off thats when you get the butterflies in your belly

and lets be honest

on the inside

fred's a mess

like he might get choked up

regardless

the tiddies are out

fred leans down and starts to place slow, loving, kisses across the skin of your chest and in the crook of your neck before trailing them down to your breasts

you let out a shaky breath as he takes your pebbled nipple into his mouth

his hand moving to tease the other one

he's sucking and licking the sensitive nub making you breathless

then he'd drag his tongue down to your belly button then just below it before sucking a hickey onto your hip

he'd KISS IT AFTERWARDS TOO 🥺

he'd look up at you silently asking if you were ok and if he could remove your panties

you nod

youre nervous and excited and just ready

so he pulls off your underwear

and suddenly you feel very naked

but you also feel more comfortable than you ever thought you would

because it's fred

and he's your best friend

and he's just so

comforting

and you'd trust him with your life

so its a positive experience

his brings his thumb to rub gently circles on your clit before running two fingers up your slit to collect your juices

you let out a breathy moan as he slides a single digit into your entrance

his head is resting on your thigh placing sweet kisses on the skin as he adds in a second finger

his other arm is hooked around the thigh that his head is resting against, with his hand falling just close enough to your cunt that he can rub slowly, tight circles on your clit

you cum pretty quickly from fred's intense, intimate fingering

and he makes sure to make a show of putting his fingers in his mouth moaning at the taste of your release

he moves up to your lips, pulling you into a kiss

and you can taste yourself on his tongue

and there is something so erotic about it

that has your pussy clenching

ok so he pulls off his boxers and you audibly gulp

he's

l a r g e

and he notices your apprehension

he doesn't want to lie and say its not going to hurt

because in all honesty it might hurt

fred presses a calming kiss to your forehead as he lines himself up with your entrance

"im going to go slow, alright. if at you want me to stop tell me, ok, bunny?"

"ok, i might be bad at this."

"never"

aND HE'D SAY IT WITH SUCH A SWEET SMILE AND THIS LOVING TONE

BECAUSE YOU COULD NEVER BE BAD AT ANYTHING EVER IN FRED'S EYES

ESPECIALLY THIS

BECAUSE HE THINKS YOU ARE LITERALLY PERFECT

AND HE LOVES YOU SO MUCH

anyway

it does hurt a bit

its uncomfortable

you do get a little teary because of the dull burn of the stretch

and fred's heart aches seeing the way your face screws up in discomfort

but after a few minutes

and a few kisses from fred

youre ready for him to start moving

he starts off slow

the pain is starting to dissipate

and it begins to feel really good

like really good

i forgot to mention it earlier but fred IS wearing a condom

back to the story

so pretty soon you guys are enjoying yourselves

fred is kissing on your neck and lips

youre tugging on his hair and letting out breathy moans and whimpers into his ear

you cum a second time before fred spills into the condom

he slowly pulls out

and the feeling of emptiness after he does so is your new least favorite feeling

you are just craving to be near him, to be impossibly close

he pulls you into his side and starts peppering kisses along your hairline

and his fingers are running up and down your back

and hes just holding you so tight

stop🥺

"i love you, bug."

"love y'too, freddie."

your slurred words made it lear to him that you were starting to fall asleep

you guys would have to wake up super early the next morning and sneak back into the house

and you'd both be super giggly and cuddly and just hanging off each other

fred wouldn't want to let you go and would pull you back into him every time you tried to leave and go into ginny's room (where you were staying)

aW then for the next few days you guys just cant keep your hands off each other

and you both are so in love

sHUT UP I LOVE FRED WEASLEY

tags:

@siriusement

@amourtentiaa

@lifeofkaze

@theorangedrummer

@erinruby003

@famdomhideout

@an2402lths

@escapingrealitybyreading

@readyg0erge

@maybesandohnos

@therealhouseelvesofhogwarts

@onlyfreds