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221bshrlocked · 3 years

Text

Fever in my Eyes

Pairing: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin) x Reader

Words: 8.5K (yeesh)

Warnings: Smut and Angst, my two faves. Blindfold. Breeding Kink!!! Things are consensual from both sides but since this is a sex pollen fic, some of you might consider it as non/con so please proceed with caution.

Summary: Felucia was not an ideal planet to track a quarry on and you find yourself in a sticky situation when you lose sight of the Mandalorian for a moment. An unexpected standoff between Mando and the bounty leads to you escaping back to the Razor Crest, unaware of the pollen which seeped into your nostrils and past your skin. What will the bounty hunter do once he realizes what you’re asking of him? And more importantly, is it worth risking whatever relationship he has with you?

A/N: As always, I am shit with summaries. It’s a sex pollen fic yall. I apologize if my smut isn’t as good as it used to be, I am trying. Also, please please please let me know how I did in the comments. This is only my second ever Star Wars fic and I was very reluctant to post it but Pedro Pascal made me do it because I cannot stop thinking of the man so here it is. Seriously, tell me how I did and what I can do to better my writing. There will be more Din Djarin fics to come :) Enjoy. And this is not beta’d!

This was not an ideal situation, but it never was. At least not ever since you took the ‘glorified babysitter’ position offered so graciously to you months ago. A short snort made its way past your lips as you walked through the greenery and recalled how you came into caring for the child currently biting and playing with your necklace. You looked down and smiled at him, not bothering to stop him from chewing down on the colorful jewels because you knew for a fact that if Mando heard you criticizing him over something so trivial, he might scold him and make him pout. Maker, the little womp rat made it so hard to be angry with him, let alone attempt to teach him some proper manners.

So busy playing with the Child, you didn’t notice when the bounty hunter suddenly came to a halt ahead of you. You walked right into his back and stumbled backwards, apologizing immediately when he turned around and tilted his visor to the side. You’ve grown to learn what each tild meant and at the moment, he was definitely a tad bit annoyed with you.

“S-sorry, I’ll pay attention.” Smiling awkwardly at the man in front of you, you waited until he turned around before narrowing your eyes at the kid currently giggling at your mistake. It was amazing how often he did that, almost as if he knew he was purposely getting you in trouble for his own entertainment.

“So you never actually told me why this bounty was so important,” your eyes searched your surroundings and marveled at the lush reaching all the way to the top of the strange trees, barely noticing the way the Mandalorian’s shoulders tensed before continuing to walk towards the edge of the forest. If there even was an edge to this jungle. Maker, this was such a weird planet, it smelled weird, it was too hot and too wet, and you sensed there was something strange with all the exotic plants beneath your feet.

When he didn’t respond, you slowly put the Child down and reached inside your satchel for a drink. As soon as the kid noticed the satchel, he waddled back to you and pulled on your cloak until you brought out his favorite blue biscuits.

“All I’m saying is, this bounty is weird. Who hides all the way out here anyways? I mean I have never heard of this place-”

“You’ve said that about the last four quarries.” You didn’t expect him to respond and eyed him cautiously, looking between him and the kid who continued to eat his snacks and understood absolutely nothing of what you were saying. A shiver ran down your spine when you noticed the way he put the tracking fob back in his pocket before slowly reaching for the blaster pistol. Reflexes instantly kicking in, you hurried to the Child and snatched him off the ground, shushing his little coos and preparing for the worst case scenario which was always, somehow, what transpired.

Silence filled the humid air and you tried to read the bounty hunter’s body language, knowing very well he was not one to say anything unless it was perhaps a little too late for you. His visor dragged through the dried prints on the grass and before you knew it, he was taking off towards the edge of the purple and pink plants. As you followed him, you felt your throat dry much quicker than usual. Thinking it was just the extreme weather of Felucia, you decided it was best to slow down and wait until the Mandalorian caught the bounty before following his path. He’d even told you once to not follow him if you ever saw him running off because that usually meant he was close to the quarry and wouldn’t need your aid. It was a little insulting in the beginning but you were caught during a shoot-out one too many times and understood he was only trying to look out for you and the kid.

But not even a full minute passed before you heard a sudden blast sound off from the trees above you and before you could figure out what was happening, a heavy weight landed on top of you, and you watched in horror as the kid flew out of your hand into a nearby puddle.

Trying your hardest to grab the blaster on your hip, you cried out in pain when you felt talons digging into your arms and twist them back. You didn’t know what else to do, eyes scanning the trees in hopes of finding the Mandalorian rushing towards you. But when you realized he was nowhere around, you looked at the kid and prayed he was alright. When you saw his large eyes blinking a few times before struggling to sit up, you knew there was only one outcome.

“Make a sound, and I will feast on your organs.” The stench of the creature filled your nostrils and you sobbed quietly at the implications behind his words. Taking one last look at the kid, you took a deep breath and pushed off the ground as hard as you can.

“MANDO!” As soon as you screamed his name, you felt three talons break the skin of your shoulder blades and drag all the way down to your lower back. You felt hot tears roll down your cheeks and hated how distressed the Child looked. Almost on queue, he was standing up and trying to waddle your way, refusing to listen to your little objections as you tried to tell him to run the opposite direction.

Before you could dwell on the many different ways you were about to die, you heard a large blast sound through the forest, throwing the creature off of you against one of the trees with a loud cracking noise. You looked up just in time to see the familiar glint of beskar coming closer through the greenery and as you tried to stand up, you felt the same weight behind you again, twisting the talons into your hair and pulling you to your feet.

You swallowed the lump in your throat when you felt the edge of the hunting knife against your throat. Eyes unable to focus on the figures in front of you, you blinked a few times and realized there were too many sensations hitting you. But the one seemingly outdoing all the others was the growing wet patch on your back and you soon felt sharp pain growing against your skin where the strange liquid rolled down your skin. You weren’t sure if it was blood or if it was drool from the thing behind you and a part of you didn’t care because what difference would it make.

“Should have known you were the only crazy one to come here...come after me.” A slithering whisper made its way past your ears and your knees buckled as you started to feel faint. But then the creature held you up roughly and pressed the knife harder against your throat, warning you against falling to the ground.

“Your problem is with me T'doshok. Let her go.” You vaguely saw the Child walk towards his father, relief washing over you when you knew he was safe once more. At some point, you’ve come to care more for him than for yourself and you were never sure if it was because he was so precious or because of how important he was to the Mandalorian.

“Aren’t we past formalities Mando? At least do me the honor of saying my name...old friend.”

Your gaze immediately shifted from the kid to the beskar-clad man standing in front of him. So they knew each other? Why didn’t he tell you? Did he still not trust you to know such matters until now?

“ Ni Kelir kyr'amur gar meh gar vaabir not ba'slanar kaysh.” You heard the Mandalorian growl through the visor and even though you didn’t understand what he said, you knew it was anything but friendly. Wait, that meant the T'doshok behind you understood Manod’a.

A sob escaped your throat when you felt the bounty laugh behind you at the warning.

“You can’t possibly mean that Mando.” If you didn’t know any better, you’d think there was a hint of surprise etched in the voice growling in your ear.

“Ni vaabir not baatir te waadas...believe me.” The conscious part of your brain wondered why he continued to speak in Mando’a. He knew you didn’t understand much of it…

The silence was almost deafening and you weren’t sure what was happening until your boss stepped forward and tilted his helmet to the side,

“Gedet'ye.” The modulated voice sounded strange to your ears. He was only ever this softly-spoken with the Child.

“Well, this is unexpected. In that case-” You didn’t have time to react, watching as the world twirled around you before you fell among the purple and pink flowers you were so impressed by earlier. A strange scent hit your nostrils but you couldn’t dwell on it for more than a few seconds. Willing yourself to stand up, you pushed off the ground as soon as you saw the kid waddling towards you. As soon as he tried to walk behind you, you knew what he was trying to do and picked him up before he could do anything.

“No little guy...you- I can’t...I need to make sure you’re okay.” You could faintly hear the sound of blasters going off for a few moments and by the time you managed to take the gun out of your holster, you saw the Mandalorian standing above an unconscious reptilian creature. So that’s what a T'doshok is…

Slowly making your way towards them, you blinked away the tears and wiped your eyes to try and clear your sight.

“Ad'ika, are you alright?” You shivered at the tone Mando was using with you. Dank Ferrik, you must have hit your head pretty hard if you thought the Mandalorian was worried about anyone but the green little thing in your arms.

“I- yes. I’ll be f-fine. Just-” You hadn’t meant to react the way you have but as soon as you felt his gloved hand touch your neck, you jerked away from him and held out your hand to stop him from coming any closer to you. Mando was shocked at your reaction and was glad to have something to hide behind. A few seconds passed in silence and you were still staring at him with wide open eyes and if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you were afraid of him. It occurred to him that it wasn’t shock that beat at his heart but a deep and twisting sense of hurt. And when he scanned your body language, he could tell you were trembling in front of him and the last thing he wanted to do was to give you another reason to fear him.

“Can you walk back to the-”

“Yes. I’ll- fu...I’ll take the kid.” Before he could say anything else, you were clutching the Child closer to your chest and walking back to the Razor Crest. You searched your mind to try and understand why you reacted the way you have to his touch but couldn’t find anything to explain the sharp pain striking through your insides. It was too much too quickly. Even though it wasn’t his skin, you felt neurons firing simultaneously as soon as he trailed his fingers down your neck. You hoped to the gods he wasn’t offended by your reaction because the last thing you needed was to drive him further away from you.

Barely making it back to the ship, you managed to go up the ladder and put the Child back in his crib in the cockpit before shutting it and locking the door behind you. Scrambling inside your mind for a moment, you turned to the ramp and walked towards the hatch before pushing in the code until it sealed shut.

In an instant, everything touching your skin was too rough and incredibly heavy. Before you could think twice about it, you were violently stripping out of your clothes, throwing them to the ground on your way to the refresher. As soon as you walked into the small room, you turned on the cold water and sighed heavily as it beat down on your heated skin.

“Not enough…” Crying to the empty room, you made sure the hot water wasn’t on before leaning back against the cool tiles of the walls. But no sooner than that were you hissing and pushing off of the wall. You completely forgot about the open gashes on your back and the shooting pain was almost instantaneous when you remembered just how large the wound was.

As you dwelled on the last hour or so, you felt your legs give out on you and before you knew it, you were sliding down to the floor. Eyes shutting slowly, you fell to the side and let the cold water run down your form. And as hard as you tried to stay awake, you couldn’t help your mind’s request as it begged to rest. You let sleep wash over you, the last sound ringing in your ear was Mando’s worried voice asking if you were okay.

Back outside, the bounty hunter was fuming with anger, not caring about how oddly violent he became with the quarry. He was never one to beat an unconscious being but something took over him when he saw the tears rolling down your cheeks. As he pushed his way through the forest, he thought back to the way you looked up at him with those innocent eyes. And he hated himself for the way his body reacted to your fragile body.

“Ni’duraa.” He whispered to himself when he saw the Crest come into view, continuing to pull the T'doshok until he walked up the ramp and onto the ship. It was awfully quiet but he decided to freeze the reptile before he walked around to look for you. Minutes later, he was ascending the ladder to the cockpit, unlocking it and reaching for the crib on his pilot chair. When he opened it and saw the kid cooing in his sleep, he shut it once more and left to look for you. It was strange how he couldn’t hear a single sound. You were normally talkative after a mission, and as he placed his weapons back on the wall, he noticed your clothes lying haphazardly on the ground. Mando sighed heavily as he picked them up, flushing violently when he saw the last two items leading into the refresher. Strange, you were never one to throw things around.

Not wanting to bother you anymore, he placed the clothes on your cot and ascended to the cockpit once more, wanting to leave Felucia as quickly as possible because he knew how the locals became when uninvited guests stayed for too long. As they left the sector, the Mandalorian couldn’t help but question why you were still in the refresher. You’d arrived long before him and it took him a while to navigate through the jungle because of how heavy the bounty was.

Putting the ship on auto-pilot, he made his way to the refresher but not before noticing a strange scent fill his nostrils. Looking down at his hands, he noticed a bright purple powder covering his gloves and as soon as he brought his hands up to the edge of the visor, he was hit with many different sensations, all of which he could distinctively place back to you. Your honey-scented soap, the orange tea he saw you constantly drinking, the smell of your sweat on a particularly hot day when you tried to fix the ship...

“Fuck…” He swore before wiping his gloves against his cloak and approached the refresher.

Knocking on the door, he waited a few moments for a response and breathed impatiently when you didn’t bother to say anything.

“Open up, Cyar'ika.” He wasn’t sure why he was suddenly using such endearing words to call for you and when he was met with more silence, he groaned in annoyance before warning you. “If you don’t open the door now, I will break it.” Normally, you would have clapped back with a snarky comment that would get his blood boiling but he knew something was wrong when you remained quiet. Throwing propriety out the window, he kicked the door open and walked in, eyes searching the small room until they fell on your unconscious form under the water.

“Maker,” kneeling to the ground, his heart clenched when he saw a viscous, black liquid oozing out of the gash on your back. How did he not notice this when you left? Quickly reaching for the left knob, he swore when he noticed the hot water wasn’t even on and almost broke the other one as he tried to switch it off. Why would you take such a cold shower when you weren’t even on a desert planet? Wiping your hair away from your face, the Mandalorian tried to wake you and began to feel anxiety seep into his clothes along with the water cascading down your body when he realized this was much worse than he thought. He took off his gloves and pushed you onto your back, trying his hardest to avert his gaze from your naked skin as he bent down and carried you out of the refresher.

Opening his quarters, he laid you on his covers before grabbing the anesthetic above him and turning you on your stomach to care for the wounds. As he sprayed your back, he noticed the way you groaned in your sleep and forced himself to attend to the task at hand. He hoped to the gods there wasn’t any poison in the wound before he grabbed the bacta spray and slowly made his way down the skin of your back. He sighed in relief when he noticed your skin slowly shifting and sealing itself, trying to calm his increasing heart rate when he remembered just how fragile and naked you were beneath him. Some sick part of him was attracted to you even in such a state and he wished more than anything for you to be awake and willing to-

This is not how he pictured seeing you for the first time.

When you started shifting beneath him, he kneeled away from you and covered your legs, continuing to care for the wound on your lower back until it started to close as well. By the time he put all the medication back in its place, you were turning around and moaning in discomfort and Mando realized it was because you were probably still freezing from the cold water. Taking off his cloak, he barely draped it on your sleeping form when you pushed it off and turned on your back. He felt the fabric of his pants tighten around his crotch and looked away from you.

“Please...too- too much. I can’t-” He couldn’t understand what you were trying to say and moved to place the cloak on you again, head instantly turning to your face when you smacked the offensive object away from him and began to trail your fingers down your skin. He hadn’t meant to and before he could stop himself, he was watching as your fingers made their way down to your hips before dipping into the space between your thighs.

Maker be damned, how were you so glistening and flushed?

“M-Mando?” His eyes snapped to your face and watched as you spread your legs until he positioned between them. “Mando I need...you. I need you please, this is- it hurts. I can’t...it hurts so much. Please h-help me.” Your voice was filled with dangerous requests, and he felt his cock twitch in his pants when he saw the way you reached for his thighs and dragged your nails down to his knees.

“Cyare, you don’t know what you’re asking.” He forced himself to keep his gaze on your face and nowhere else. But with every passing moment, the need to look at where he’d dreamt of feasting on for so many nights outgrew his respect for you.

“Mando...I want you, n-need you...please, I promise I’ll be good. So so good for you, just- oh maker I-”

The small part of his brain that wasn’t ruled by his pulsing cock finally figured out what was happening and he growled as he pushed off of you and out to your cot. Grabbing your shirt, he turned it around and saw the same purple powder that was on his gloves coloring the whole front of your cloak. He recalled back to what happened when he left you and remembered where the T'doshok pushed you before he attacked him.

Of course. The pollen from the spore plants.

Which meant that-

“Oh fuck.” The Mandalorian felt his insides churn when he realized what was taking place not ten feet away from him, and he felt his heart skip a beat when he knew what could potentially happen to you if your...needs weren't properly met. With reluctance, he made his way back to his sleeping cot and felt his chest tighten when he saw what you were doing.

You were on your side, fingers rubbing furiously at your soaking core and whimpering at the consistent and harsh touches passing through your nerves. But it wasn’t the mess you were making that caught his attention. No, it was the fact that you had his cowl twisted between your thighs and around your back. He watched in awe as you pushed your face into the rough material, taking in deep breaths to try and fill your nostrils with his scent. Taking one step closer to you, his eyes bore into your heated skin and he choked on air when he saw you lick at the hood of the cloak before taking your fingers out of your cunt and replacing them with his cowl. He couldn’t believe his eyes and the thought of wearing it around with your scent sticking to it broke him.

Mando looked around the ship for a few moments in an attempt to think of what he should do. Swallowing the dry lump in his throat, he approached your slowly and gasped when he met your eyes and saw the way you were looking at him.

“M-mando! Please...fuck me. I- I need you to...don’t c-care how. I promise I’ll do anything, wh-whatever you want...ple-please.” Chills ran down your spine when you forced yourself to throw the cowl away. Turning around, you laid on your stomach and took a deep breath before raising your lower half off of the covers. As you rested your head on your arm and bit into your wrist, you looked back to the beskar-clad man, silently pleading with him while swaying your ass in the air.

“Gota'la…” Before the Mandalorian could talk himself out of it, he was kicking his heavy shoes away and making his way closer to you. A part of him screamed that of the two of you, he was the one less affected by the pollen and was technically responsible for whatever transpired next. And he was close to asking you if you were sure you wanted to take this further if it weren’t for the way you reached beneath you and faintly trailed your fingers through your soaking slit.

“Ad'ika, gar cuyir mesh'la.” He was speaking to himself more than to you and smiled to himself when he noticed your cunt clenching around nothing as soon as his words filled the silence. “Sweet girl, you like it when I speak to you in Mando’a?” You shivered at his tone and found it difficult to respond to him, especially when you could tell he was definitely not looking at you but at the mess you were making on his bed. A loud cry rang through the small room when you felt his hand come down on your backside before squeezing the flushed skin.

“I asked you a question Cyar'ika.” His deep and modulated voice only made it worse and you found yourself nodding at him before whispering out a low ‘yes.’

“K'olar,” you squealed when you felt Mando twirl your around onto your back before pulling your naked body flush to his still-clothed one. You were about to beg him to just fuck you already when he shoved two of his fingers into your mouth to shush you. You moaned shamelessly around his fingers, whining even louder when you realized you were sucking on his calloused skin and not on the gloves he almost never took off unless he was alone.

“You’re going to come just like this sweet girl.” Mando manhandled you until you were straddling one of his thighs, growling impatiently when you tried to push yourself away from him. His arm tightened around your waist, pushing you down on the beskar cuisse until you finally understood what he wanted from you.

“C-cold…”

“Be a good girl and drench my armor little one. Let me walk around with the memory of your cunt dripping on me.” His words hit too close to your somewhat aware mind and you chose to dwell on their meaning later. Softly inching your hands onto his shoulders, you fisted your fingers into his shirt to support your weight before dragging yourself against the rugged and cool beskar in between your thighs. As you threw your head back and sighed in pleasure, Mando couldn’t help but squeeze the heated skin of your hip, knowing very well there would soon be fingerprint marks wherever he touched you.

“That’s it...could smell how much you want me Cyare. Can’t believe you’re in my arms...look at you, using my thighs to get off.” You barely managed to turn your attention to him, lips still enclosed around his fingers and biting down on them the more he shoved them in your mouth.

“Mando I- I need to-” Before you could finish your request, Mando was wrapping the other arm around hips and violently dragging you against his cuisse, looking down to watch as your juices dripped on his beskar armor.

“What a sight…” He groaned and turned his gaze towards you again just in time to watch you fall apart on him. He marveled at how quickly he brought you to pleasure and figured it must have been the pollen making you extra sensitive to his ministrations. Wanting to stretch out your pleasure for as long as possible, he threw you back onto his bed and pushed your thighs open, not giving you a chance to question him as he shoved two fingers into your cunt and massaged that spongy spot deep inside you. You arched your back and grasped at his arms, barely managing to look at the visor just as he increased pressure and fucked you with his fingers.

“M-MANdo oh g-gods-”

“Scream my name sweet girl, and only my name.” Had you actually listened to what he said, you would have sassed back at him and told him you didn’t actually know his name. But you couldn’t care less at the moment, digging your fingers into his forearms as you came around his thick fingers, repeatedly praying his “name” until you couldn’t remember anything else.

“Mesh'la...you’re so tight and warm for me...that’s it, squeeze my fingers like the good little girl you are.” Mando watched as you came around his fingers, his eyes not knowing where to look and wishing he could taste the sweat sticking on your neck as you whimpered beneath him.

He heard it before he felt it, moaning in blind lust as he took in the sight beneath him. Your legs shook violently as you, quite literally, drenched his thighs and blankets with your cum and Mando didn’t know if he wanted to lick you dry or stuff his nose into your pulsating cunt.

“Sweet fucking darling, look at the mess you’ve made,” you shivered when you felt his fingers leave your slit, blinking hazily and turning to look at where he was staring. When you saw what he was referring to, you quickly covered yourself and tried to move away from him, embarrassment washing over you when you saw the way he was so obviously staring at the wetness dripping down your. But Mando was much quicker than you, grabbing your thighs and pushing them wide open again before laying in between them and dragging his crotch across your sensitive clit.

“Never hide from me,” you nodded instantly and the Mandalorian would never admit feeling his chest fill with pride at the lust-filled fear he instilled into you with only a few words. Your chest heaved as you continued to look into the visor, almost whimpering when you were met with incredibly dazed eyes and messy hair staring right back at you. It was quiet for a few moments, the only proof that Mando was very much aware of your state being the hardness twitching against your sensitive cunt.

Mando wasn’t sure what to do with you. He wanted to simultaneously fuck you into the next system and lick every inch of you until you couldn’t take it anymore. “I can smell your cunt Ad'ika...can almost taste your neediness.”

“Ma-mando I- I want you to r-” You felt so naked beneath him, wishing he’d at least take off his clothes before this went any further. Not a single care was given to his helmet and it was out of the question to even attempt and ask him if he could take it off. You just wanted to feel his skin sliding against yours as he fucked you. Nothing else mattered. Just his scarred and sweaty muscles contracting and trailing over your own.

“What is it sweet girl?” His voice felt like a thousand needles piercing your soul and you didn’t realize where your hands were moving until you felt him roughly grab your wrists and slam them above your head. You could tell there was a shift in the air around you and ceased to breathe when you no longer heard his moans.

“This is the way.” Those four words hurt you more than they should have.

“I- I would never ask you to...I swear I just wanted- I wanted to touch you. Not take it off...please I-” Mando felt his heart shatter into a million pieces because somehow, even in your most inebriated state, you respected him. You put him before yourself. And he ceased to breathe when he sat up and watched as you grabbed at his arms and refused to let go.

“N-no don’t go...I need you- d-don’t leave me pl-” Your breathing was erratic and the Mandalorian feared you’d spiral into shock. Without thinking much of his next moves, he grabbed the nearest item of clothing and ripped a small piece of it, returning to rest between your knees and not giving you a choice as he wrapped the band around your eyes and tied it in the back. You trailed your fingers over the band and pulled away instantly when you felt his the hair on his wrist.

“I’m sorry…” Mando thought of your actions so far and knew in his heart that if there was ever another who’d look upon him, it would be you. Softly taking your hands in his, he pulled them towards his helmet and rested them at the side.

“T-take it off.”

“I can’t...Mando, you don’t have to- I swear I was only-” As hard as it was to say those words, you wanted him to know that he owed you nothing. And you hated how selfish you were being in that moment because the man was trying to tell you something and you were only worrying about yourself and how much your cunt ached for him. You were so close to pushing him on his back and taking your pleasure from him but something told you it would be worth the wait.

“Mesh'la, I want you to.” You always marveled at how much the Mandalorian could convey in only a few words and shouldn’t have been surprised when you felt just how much he was willing to put his trust in you. Not wanting to scare him, you slowly pulled on the visor until it was completely off, remaining motionless as he took it from your hands and placed it on the floor. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to do with your hands so you kept them to the side, fisting your fingers into the blankets to prevent you from reaching out and touching his face.

Mando could tell you wanted to touch him. You even told him yourself. So he made the decision for you and leaned down, passing his lips over your forehead and smiling down at you when he heard you suck in a breath. You gasped when you felt his beard tickle your cheeks. He had a beard. Of course he had a beard. But as he continued to leave kisses over your face, you realized it wasn’t really a full-grown beard. It didn’t matter in the end because he was driving you insane with every small pass of his plump lips near where you wanted him.

As he finally molded his lips with yours, you felt him pull your hands up to his face and lay them on his cheeks, the groan escaping his throat letting you know he enjoyed you touching him as much as you, perhaps even more. The kiss grew frantic the more you explored his naked skin, and you couldn’t hold back the long moan that erupted into his mouth as soon as you felt him suck on your tongue. When you pulled on his soft hair, Mando couldn’t help but growl into the heated kiss, not caring for how rough he was being as he grabbed and squeezed your thighs.

But the kiss was over as soon as it began and you whined after him when you felt him pull away from you. You felt your fingers ascend to your face but remembered why the Mandalorian blindfolded you in the first place. Not wanting to lose his trust, you pushed your arms beneath your back to prevent any temptations from taking place. Unbeknownst to you, Mando was watching every little muscle twitch on your nude form and he almost devoured you right then and there when he saw you quickly moving your fingers from your face.

He was amazed by how caring you were even when you didn’t hold any proper level of the right consciousness. Anyone else would have removed the cloth and blamed the pollen. But not you.

You were special.

Refusing to waste any more time, Mando made quick work of the beskar armor, not caring about the mess he was making just outside his room. He kept his eyes on you the entire time, smiling when he noticed you shivering beneath his gaze. He was on you as soon as he deposited his long-sleeve and pants, devouring your mouth and digging his fingers into your waist as he rutted against you.

“Ner-”

The possessiveness was almost palpable and he surprised even himself at the single syllable. Since when was he like this?

“Mando,” you whispered his name as you wrapped your arms around his back and pulled him flush against you, sighing in relief when you felt the hair of his chest tickle your nipples. Mando noticed your reaction and instantly descended on your heaving chest, biting and licking and pinching at the hardened buds until you begged him to slow down.

“Ni'm liser't...taylir norac. You’re so fucking delicious.” The way he effortlessly switched between his mother tongue and Basic shouldn’t have turned you on this much and yet you were.

“Fuck me.” Your words were dripping with desperation and the Mandalorian wasn’t able to hold any longer. He wanted to take his time with you, commit every little curve to memory. Memorize what made your breath hitch and what made you sigh.

But the request ended all of his curiosity and before you knew it, you felt him roughly pull down on his boxer briefs. You flushed when you heard the sound of his hand jerking his cock, mouth falling wide open when it jutted at your inner thighs and you felt how fucking hard and thick it was.

“What will it be sweet girl? You want me to make love to you,” he paused for a moment and took advantage of your distracted expression, rubbing the head of his cock against your wet slit and biting his lips when he felt you arch against him at the simple yet filthy movement. “Or fuck you like I own you…like you’re mine.”

Hearing him say ‘fuck’ in such a vulgar tone did it for you and you didn’t know what to do with yourself except widen your legs more for him and grab the bed sheets beneath you.

“F-fuck me like you own me Mando...ruin me. Take what you want and- oh maker you’re so- so...fu- please, u-use me however you want. Just- I need your cock. Need to cum on your cock...can’t wait anym-”

Mando was sure he broke you with his words, watching in awe as you begged and begged until you couldn’t breathe anymore. There was no warning, no asking if you were ready for him. There was just your wet cunt teasing him until he couldn’t bear the thought of not being deep inside your pussy.

Resting his head against yours, he took his painfully hard cock in his hand and shoved it past your wet lips, letting out a deep growl as he felt you scratch his back.

“Mando, Mando, M-mando…”

You didn’t find the strength to think of a proper sentence to express what you were feeling so you opted to pray his name over and over again. He was shaking above you and you knew instantly he was trying his hardest not to break you.

“Take what you want- I...I won’t break.”

Just hearing you say those words to him almost made him cum right then and there. You were returning the trust he gave you and he knew there was no way of putting this moment behind him even if he tried.

Pulling out until only the head of his cock was splitting you open, Mando bucked his hips violently back into you, whispering the filthiest promises into your ears as he set a rough pace that had you seeing worlds you didn’t even know existed.

“So, fucking, tight...how are you so wet and tight for me Cyare?” It took you a while to realize you were hearing his voice without the modulator of his mask. How had you not noticed how beautifully sinful it was when he first took it off? You wanted to tell him how much you loved hearing his thick and smooth voice. You wanted to kiss down his neck and bite onto his shoulders. You wanted to push him down and force his cock inside your throat.

So much. You wanted so much.

But you couldn’t find your voice in that moment. Not when he was railing into you with such an unforgiving force.

“Made for me...made to take my cock. Such a sweet fucking girl- ah.” You should have known Mando would not be the quiet type in bed. He was a man of few words during his day-to-day life so of course he would take this chance and spill out his innermost thoughts. But it surprised you nonetheless considering how downright dirty his moans and whispers were. And you were sure he was as filthy, if not more, when he continued to speak in Mando’a.

With every passing moment, you felt a piece of your heart split from your chest and slowly make its way into his hands. He was branding you, his cock reaching so deep inside you that you were sure you could feel him right below your navel if you only moved your hands against your skin. But you couldn’t afford to let go of him, not when he was using you just as you requested.

“Mando you...maker, you’re filling me so- so good. I- please, can I cum? I want t- to cum. Been so good for you. Need to-” The chuckle that left his lips was sweet music to your ears until you realized he might be laughing at how pathetic you were.

“Fucking gods Ad'ika...fill you up? Is that what you want sweet girl? You want me to- fuck, fuck...want me to fill you up with my cum? You’re killing me baby.” His voice was hoarse and he realized his mistake as soon as the words left his lips. The last thing he wanted was to scare you away from him. It was his deeped, darkest secret. He swore he would go to his grave with it. Too often he thought of breeding you, fucking you and fill you up until his cum leaked out of you and you couldn’t move. Too many nights he went to sleep thinking of what it would feel like to wake up with your sweet cunt still wrapped around his cock. What he’d give to ensure not a single drop went to waste.

Too many days were spent dreaming of giving that little womp rat a sibling to run around with.

Your silence didn’t go unnoticed by him and he was about to slow down when he felt your hands grab his ass and push you closer to him.

“Want your cum Mando...want you to cum inside me, fill me up until I can’t breathe...oh fuck, until I can’t feel anything but your cum hot and deep inside me. Fuck a baby inside me Mando I- oh oh gods I-” Mando couldn’t hold back anymore, violently pushing his cock inside you and swallowing your moans every time they echoed just a little louder than he preferred. He groaned in ecstasy when he looked down and saw pure bliss etched on your soft features. You clenched around him, thighs vibrating around his hips as he somehow drove into you harder and carried you past the point of pleasure. You didn’t know you were coming around him until you heard him whisper ‘good girl’ in your ears. And it sent a jolt down his spine when he continued to rut against you and fill the ship with the heavy sounds of skin slapping on skin. It was almost painful, the way he didn’t let up and continued to rail into you without a single care.

“Mine...mine, fucking mine. That’s it sweet girl, feel me. Feel me marking your fucking soul.” He was a mumbling mess at this point and he wasn’t sure if it was because you were panting like an animal in heat or because of the way you desperately licked and kissed and nipped at his neck and lips.

“Yes, I’m yours Mando. Yours...always have been.”

The heaviness of your words struck his heart instantly, and he shoved his cock so deep inside you he swore he could feel your heartbeat. Mando rested his head in the crook of your neck, biting harder than intended on your shoulder as hot spurts of cum coated your inner walls. You feel a sudden warmth wash over you and dug your nails into his ass as he thrust once, twice, three times before stilling completely.

The two of you continued to breathe heavily against each other and when Mando moved his knees to get comfortable between your thighs, you unintentionally squeezed his cock and felt him twitch inside you.

“Ni chaabar gar, cyar'ika.” It was such a silent comment and you knew this was much different than everything he’d said thus far. Something about his tone told you he was spilling his heart out and you wished more than anything to ask him what he was saying but knew you shouldn’t...wouldn’t. Not unless you wanted him to continue and speak to you.

You were brought back from your thoughts when the Mandalorian kissed your lips, and you felt yourself drowning in his scent when he rubbed your hair and nudged your jaw with his nose.

“Gar cuyir too jaon'yc at ni. Ni liser't nibral gar.” Slowly, Mando wrapped his arms around you and rolled you over until you were practically sleeping on top of him. The two of you hissed when you felt his cock leave your heat and Mando wished more than anything to spread your thighs and watch as his cum leaked down your thighs. No worries, he’d do that later.

Later…

Oh what he would give for there to be a ‘later’ with you.

The thought of not being able to have you again snapped him back to reality and he realized there was a very high chance this would never happen again because as far as he knew, this was only a consequence of the pollen.

Not wanting to bother you with his insecurities, Mando pushed your head down onto his chest and rubbed your shoulders, telling you to get some rest and to not worry about anything else.

Hours later, Mando was waking up to a soft noise emitting from beneath him. As he rubbed his eyes and took in his surroundings, he looked down and noticed you were still very much naked and cold next to him. Pulling the covers over you, he allowed his eyes to feed on your curves before meeting your face. Dread filled his heart as soon as he saw the wet patch on the band around your eyes.

You must have woken up and realized what happened. A thousand different scenarios flew through his mind and Mando knew that almost each one of them was caused by your regret of sleeping with him.

“Ad'ika, are you alright?” When you didn’t respond and sniffed loudly, Mando knew he had to brace for the worst.

“Please...are you hurt anywhere?” Hearing his pleas was what did it for you and you threw yourself into his chest.

“Mando I- I took advantage of you. I’m so sorry, I- I didn’t know what was happening...I promise I- please don’t tell me to leave. I can’t leave you or the Child. I- I promise I’ll pretend this never happened. Just- don’t leave me. I can’t bear the thought of living without you...without him.”

Of all the things the Mandalorian thought he would hear from you, those were certainly the last to make the list. He wasn’t sure how he’d gotten so lucky with you? Not only did you refuse to take the blindfold off when you woke up but you genuinely thought you’d forced him into sleeping with you.

“Cyare, it hurts to see you cry. Come here.” Mando sat up against the cold metal wall, pulling you into his lap and wrapping the covers around you so you weren’t exposed to the cold air of the ship.

“You didn’t take advantage of me sweet girl. If anything, I- I should be the one apologizing. I was not hit with the effects of the pollen as much as you have been and...and I should have refused your pleas. But you looked so beautiful, Cyar'ika. You prayed for me to have you and I- I was selfish. I was selfish and I couldn’t stop myself from sinking into you. Branding you. Being with you.” To say you were surprised by his words would have been the understatement of the century.

The Mandalorian wanted you. He wanted to have you. He wanted to be with you.

“I-I’ve wanted you for so long...spent so many nights dreaming of being with you.” You confessed to him before you could think of the meaning behind your words and you were met with a deep sigh and a kiss on the lips almost immediately.

“How long Mesh'la?”

“S-since Tatooine.”

Mando’s heart skipped a beat at the short yet direct response. He’s only ever been to Tatooine once with you, months and months ago when he needed Peli to fix something on the Crest for him. You hadn’t even been with their group for three weeks then. So busy thinking of all the ways he could have had you since then, Mando didn’t notice how the silence affected you until your fingers twitched against his chest.

“Mando?”

“That was eons ago.” It was more of a comment than a question and you weren’t sure if he was angry or surprised.

“Is...is that bad?”

“Bad? No Ad'ika, not bad.” When he didn’t offer more of an explanation, you rested your head on his chest and continued to draw circles on his naked abdomen.

You weren’t sure how long you sat there in each others arms but the faint sounds of cooing and laughter snapped you out of your haze and you realized you should probably get up and make something for the kid to eat. Before you could move away from him however, Mando was bringing you closer to him and kissing you again. You knew you could never tire from feeling his lips mold and pass over yours and you welcomed his tongue with as much vigor as you could muster up.

As he pulled away, you smiled at him and wished more than anything to be able to see him smile back at you.

“Din.”

“Hmm?”

“My name...it’s Din. Din Djarin.”

Mando could see the exact moment you registered what he just said and he smirked to himself at how pretty you looked when something shocking took place.

“Din.” You repeated his name silently, afraid this would all be a dream and that he didn’t actually just tell you something that was so important to him.

“You didn’t have to tell me…” You traced his jaw with your fingers and marveled at how oddly soft his beard was.

“I didn’t, but I wanted to.” Din was silent for a few seconds before he flipped you beneath him and took hold of your wrists before slamming them harshly above your head. “I wanted you to know it, Mesh'la, so you could scream it the next time I fucked this sweet and tight cunt.”

For a man of few words, he sure knew what to say to get you worked up again.

Translations:

Ni Kelir kyr'amur gar meh gar vaabir not ba'slanar kaysh - I will kill you if you do not leave her.

Ni vaabir not baatir te waadas. - I do not care about the credits.

Gedet'ye. - Please.

Ad'ika - Little one

Ni’duraa! - You disgust me.

Cyar'ika - Darling/Sweetheart

Cyare - Beloved

Gota'la - Maker.

Gar cuyir mesh'la. - You are beautiful.

K'olar - Come here.

Mesh'la - Beautiful

Ner - Mine.

Ni'm liser't...taylir norac. - I can’t...hold back.

Ni chaabar gar, cyar'ika. - I fear you, darling.

Gar cuyir too jaon'yc at ni. Ni liser't nibral gar. - You are too important to me. I can’t lose you.

#The Mandalorian fanfiction #The Mandalorian x Reader #The Mandalorian smut #mando x reader #Mando smut #Mando fanfiction #Din Djarin x Reader #Din Djarin smut #Din Djarin fanfiction #The Mandalorian #Din Djarin #Pedro Pascal #baby yoda #star wars #star wars fanfiction

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tarysande · 2 years

Text

I finished my AHOD reread!

And I have some thoughts. Because reading it so many years later was illuminating.

I love this story. I really do. It's been over nine years since I started it (HOW) and five and a half since I updated (SORRY). It doesn't feel like that much time has passed, honestly. And yet ... it has.

And if I stop and really think about all that time, about the person I was then and the person I am now, of course I can see the differences. I am so, so much healthier and happier now. I understand myself so much better. And I understand that understanding myself is the goal of a lifetime; there's no finish line.

I'm going to talk about that a bit, because I've learned some things I needed to learn, and I suspect maybe other folks need to hear about the things I've learned, too.

I've mentioned before that I was very depressed when I wrote AHOD. For most of it, I was living on the other side of the world in a country where I knew virtually no one. My mental health was a mess, but I hadn't yet realized I could do anything about it. Hell, I didn't have any idea just how deep a hole I was in.

AHOD was a lifeline. I loved that people cared about it enough to engage with me. I loved that people had theories and ideas they shared with me. I loved that people always looked forward to the next chapter. I loved feeling like I was a part of something, especially because my life outside the internet was so, so barren and I was so, so lonely. Hell, I loved feeling special.

(I wanted something to go right. Just once.)

Back then, I had no idea that I had ADHD and that every bit of feedback and attention was literally giving me a dose of the dopamine by brain so desperately needed. I also didn't know about rejection sensitivity or hyper-focus or all the other myriad strengths and weaknesses that go hand in hand with ADHD. The rejection sensitivity's important because I realize now that I let a few interactions with others undermine my confidence in devastating ways. A comment, after all, is just a comment, and a wrong guess or criticism or hot take doesn't mean everything is ruined and everything is garbage and how could I have subjected others to this dumpsterfire??

I do know this: I was terrified of fucking it up, letting people down, and being seen as the impostor or fraud my inner critic had convinced me I was. Because then people would hate me, right? Or worse. They'd be disappointed in me. And then I would once again be lonely and alone, online and offline, having failed to prove my worth.

The more pressure I put on myself to be perfect, to juggle all the plates, to tie up every dangling thread perfectly, to show no weakness, to admit to no flaws, the less I could do anything at all. I couldn't reread my work. I couldn't think about it. I sure as shit couldn't write. I tortured myself with my failure to finish AHOD, and I convinced myself the entire story was flawed in ways I could never fix (it really isn't!). Eventually, I couldn't play the games, I could barely engage with fandom, and I—spoiler alert—ended up all but disappearing from the fandom that meant so much to me, anyway.

Because of a future that I convinced myself was inevitable.

(This, friends, is called CATASTROPHIZING.)

I know. The irony is painful. I'm good at being honest. I'm not good at being vulnerable. And I am much better at giving advice than taking my own.

But here's the thing: When I read the story this time, I didn't feel any of that pressure. I didn't feel all of that self-imposed weight on my shoulders. I thought I am proud of this story. I stand by this story. I'm enjoying it immensely. Hell, I love this story. I really wish there was more of it!

But, most importantly, I don't hate myself because there's no more of it.

It's hard for me to explain how revelatory that is. I have barely written anything (well, barring the stuff I write for others and am paid for) in years. My inner critic (she's 100% Moira Callahan, by the way) has been grinding me into the dirt for literal years, and I have let her. I've even felt like I deserved it.

So many other aspects of my life have been fantastic, but I'm not exaggerating when I say I'd started to believe I would never write again. I was trying to get used to it. Trying to accept it. And it killed me. It wasn't something I wanted to give up; it wasn't something I was okay with letting go. I constantly suffered from a kind of phantom limb syndrome.

I've always wanted to tell stories because I've always hoped that somehow, in some way, my stories would help others—even if that help just came in the form of entertaining them when they needed entertainment. Helping people is my calling, you know? When I'm helping people, life feels good. And as much as I enjoy editing (and I do! and I'm good at it!), helping people that way doesn't feel as right as writing does. I need both in my life to be satisfied, to be truly happy.

This is what I learned while reading my old stories this time: The me of ten years ago didn't realize she was writing the stories that the me of right now needed.

And, in reading those stories, the me of right now is starting to feel like she's ready to pick up where the me of then left off. The me of ten years ago wasn't ready to write the endings, if that makes sense. She needed to become the me of right now. She needed to live and heal and thrive—not just survive. She needed the right medical diagnoses and the right meds and she really, really needed therapy. She needed to recognize that she could build a sustainable career from working with words, even if that career wasn't purely as a writer. (She is ready to get back to that dream, too, though.)

I guess the tl;dr here is that healing doesn't have a set timeline. And sometimes you don't really realize how much healing you've done until you face something that used to cause so much pain, only to realize it no longer does. Or, even better—that something new has grown where that pain was, like a new tree growing out of a shattered stump, and maybe that thing might be beautiful.

Anyway. Grace Shepard would tell me this is hope. And hope? It's pretty great.

#tara talks personal stuff #tara talks mental health #tara talks writing #anyway i am excited to talk to my therapist about this tomorrow #lol #because she is amazing #and i know she will be so thrilled

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ilikemesometaetaes · 3 years

Text

Good Day (M)

Jeon Jungkook Oneshot

•••> Author: @ilikemesometaetaes

•••> Summary: His motive was made quite clear once he called you out of work. He just wanted to spend a nice day with his girlfriend. Is that too much to ask for?

•••> Pairing(s): Jungkook/Reader

•••> Requested by Anon: “Can I request a Jungkook oneshot(established relationship) where they just want to spend the day just getting drunk on wine and having sex on the couch? Y/N could be dressed in just his shirt and Jungkook in just his sweatpants”

•••> Word Count: 6.15k [Unedited]

•••> Rating: 18+

•••> Warnings: smut, slight bloating!kink (but there isn’t actually any bloating), unprotected sex, dirty talk, kookie is a horny little fuck, he literally just wants to bone, all day, he’s also a drunken idiot sometimes, cursing, alcohol use, shower stimulation, showerheads can be a girl’s best friend, drunk sex, lazy sex

Thank you for the request, anon! It took ages to complete and I’m so sorry! I hope you enjoy it :)

~#~

Arms tightened around your waist as you woke. The embrace was slightly suffocating.

“Baby,” You wheezed through your unused vocal cords. The grip only tightened and constricted your lungs, serving for a rude awakening. “Kook.”

“Murph.” Hot breath on your neck after a groan of exhaustion was a welcome feeling- comforting despite the uncomfortable position you were in. You smiled despite your lack of ability to move and looked down to see his tattooed arm overlapping the bare one over your ribs.

“I can’t-“ You were cut off as he tightened his grip with a slight whimper of distress.

Immediately plagued with concern, you grabbed his arms and wrestled them from your body so that you could turn to face him from within his encircled limbs. You only got more worried when you noticed his obvious stress-ridden eyebrows, arched up with eyelids fluttering rapidly. His lower lip was trembling as he quietly began muttering ‘no’ repeatedly.

“Jungkook.” You gently placed your hand on his bare shoulder and shook him. His fingers dug into your ribs painfully, warranting a more stern call of his name. “Jungkook!”

“No!” He yelled while sitting up abruptly and heaving for breath. You were thrown from his clutches and rocked on the bed from the movement. Despite the disturbance, you sat up with him and reached for his back to rub it soothingly.

“Baby,” You cooed, quick to reassure him with gentle touches. “I’m here. We’re here. You’re okay.”

Following your statements and ministrations on his back, his breathing gradually slowed with a few sputtering gasps and an audible gulp. Once you gauged his level of calm, you broke the silence.

“What happened?” You asked, tilting your head and leaning forward to get a better look at his face past his long hair. His eyes were shut tight with eyelids wrinkled at the corners while he inhaled slowly through flaring nostrils.

Your boyfriend opened his eyes after a moment, blinking a few times in the process, before turning his head to set you in his line of sight.

“They were taking my dad away.” He wavered. “But he’d already completed his time.”

You knew better- Jungkook’s father was safe in the comfort of his own home in Busan, already having served the mandatory enlistment for his home country- but you also knew that you needed to reassure your boyfriend so that he could relax his tensed shoulders.

“Do you want me to give him a call?” You asked. “I’m sure he’d appreciate hearing from us and it’s not too late in the evening over there.”

“No, it’s okay.” Jungkook said, letting the tremors fade from his body as he let reality sink into him. “He should get his rest. I’ll call him this evening.”

“Alright, Kook. Sounds good.” You gave him one more pat before looking at the clock. Your alarm would go off in eight minutes. “Shit. Might as well start getting ready now.”

“You do have work today.” Jungkook said the words as a statement, as if confirming prior thoughts.

“Yes,” You chuckled, smiling lightly and leaning in to kiss his cheek before getting out of the bed. “I do.”

A soft whine escaped his throat as he quickly grabbed onto your fingers. “Nooo… Don’t goooo…”

“I have to, baby.” You lightly tugged your fingers from his grasp to make your way towards the bathroom. Shuffling sheets from behind you signaled that Jungkook had also gotten out of the bed.

As you turned the shower handle and began taking off your clothes to shower, you heard him creep in behind you with light footsteps padding across the wooden floor.

“Don’t even think about it.” You giggled while he crowded his body against the back of your almost-bare one, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his ever-present morning wood against your skin. “I can’t be held up.”

“Then call out.” He whispered into your ear, to which you pulled away and turned around so that you could raise an eyebrow at him. Did he really just tell you to call out of work just so the two of you could bone?

His eyes were dark and playful as if challenging you while you stared up into his gaze defiantly. You scoffed in disbelief. “Jungkook, I can’t.”

“Why not?” He jutted his lower lip out into a pout. Fuck. You internally scowled at his tactics, hating the way your heart began trying to convince your brain to consider calling out.

Before you could crumble under the pressure of his ways, you huffed out a response. “Because I can’t, babe.” You slid your panties off and opened the shower door to step inside.

“-And don’t even think of coming in here. I can’t afford to be late.” You added the last part as you closed the glass door behind you, knowing his next strategy would be to tempt you with his naked body- a strategy you would surely lose to.

Jungkook groaned, pressing himself against the door with one arm bracing his weight against the distorted surface while you wet your hair. You watched in amusement as he slowly began accepting his defeat.

“But you work all the time.” He whined again, causing you to smugly and mockingly pout in response.

“So that I can make money.” You jokingly copied his tone and continued with your shower before he backed away from the glass in silence and stepped towards the sink. You watched as his shapeless body moved, deducting that he was going to brush his teeth as he reached into the drawer where you kept the toothpaste. Once he placed the toothbrush into his mouth and began brushing, you smiled, shook your head, and continued to shower.

“Y’know,” His words were jumbled as the toothbrush obstructed his speech. “You gon’ make me act up.”

“Act up?” You asked while laughing. “How are you going to act up?”

Jungkook leaned over the sink and spit, leaving a break of silence to drag your curiosity further. Once he rinsed his mouth, he turned to look at you again despite being unable to see you clearly. He sighed dramatically.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, babe.” He quipped before exiting the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.

You only scoffed at him again, rolling your eyes and hurrying with your shower to stay on schedule.

~#~

Fresh-faced and ready for work, you grabbed your purse and walked out of your bedroom to make your way towards the front door. The sound of something scraping against a pan while the oven fan hummed lowly tipped off that Jungkook was in the kitchen.

“Jungkook?” You called for him as you were about to round the corner. “Do you know where my phone is?”

The sight you walked in on was one of dreams.

Your boyfriend stood in front of the stove, cooking eggs and bacon, in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. Muscular back on full display, you let your eyes slowly trail all the way down the cut definition around his shoulders to the dimples stamped into the flesh of his lower back. The adorable crevices were graciously uncovered because of how low his pants hung on his hips.

“It’s on the counter.” He haphazardly gestured to the kitchen island with the spatula he was holding. You had to gulp down the saliva that collected in your mouth and blink a few times to snap yourself out of your haze so that you could grab your phone and leave.

“Thanks, baby.” You rushed up to the counter, grabbed your phone to drop it into your bag, turned to kiss Jungkook on the cheek, and quickly began to leave. “I’ll see you later. Love you!”

“Oh, by the way,” Jungkook started. You stopped in front of the door to put your heels on. “Your boss called.”

“She did?” You reached into your purse and fumbled around for your phone. “What did she say?”

“She said she hopes you feel better soon.”

“What?” You froze, unable to understand, and looked up at Jungkook who had already set the food on two plates. “Why?”

“Because you’re bedridden right now. Your head hurts oh, so bad and you have a runny nose with a fever of one-hundred and one degrees.” He pouted and looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eye despite wearing a somber expression on his face.

Realization set in all at once.

He. Did. Not.

“Jungkook,” You started, slightly upset. “I swear to god, if you did what I think you di-“

“A sick person shouldn’t be all dressed in heels and a pant suit. Why don’t you go change into something more comfortable and then come eat so we can get some food in your belly?”

You spluttered incredulously to a halt as he spoke, shocked by his drastic measures to keep you home. He lied to your boss and called out of work for you.

“What- exactly- did she say?” You gritted out.

Jungkook grabbed the two plates and walked to the kitchen table with a seemingly unbothered demeanor, placing them down carefully.

“She just said that you had it coming. You work too much for your own good and now you’re sick because of it.” He sauntered over to the fridge as you eyed him critically, glaring daggers into the back of his head while he spoke. “I agree with her, to be honest. You don’t look so good. All that working took a toll on you- do you want orange juice? Or water? Or some iced coffee?”

The oblivious facade only irritated you further, warranting you to kick off your heels, drop your purse, and stomp over to him. Grabbing him by the shoulder, you spun him around angrily, only to see a smug smirk plastered across his lips.

“I’ll take that as you wanting iced coffee. You were always a grump without some caffeine.” He grinned.

“Jeon Jungkook.” You hissed, glowering at him with increasing intensity. “What the hell did you call me out for?”

“I called you out-“ He started with a smirk, wrapping his fingers around your wrist and spinning you around quickly to press you against the fridge. His face morphed into a stern expression quickly. You never broke eye contact with him, intransigence unwavering under his pressure.

“- so that we can crack open those bottles of wine we hoard and I can fuck you open on the couch over and over again while we pretend to pay attention to a movie playing on the TV.”

Your anger dissipated instantaneously, brain functioning coming to a halt as his words sunk into your skin.

Well… shit. What’s your name again?

“Do you understand now?” Jungkook asked, leaning down far enough that his hair brushed against your forehead and his mint-scented breath tickled your nose and top lip.

“Y-yeah.” You stuttered.

“Good. Now, go change.” He grinned, backing away from you and reaching into the fridge to grab the orange juice and the iced coffee. You followed his command like a robot, excitement building in you so fast that you had no way to process the fact that you were livid with him moments ago.

It wasn’t long before you were bare-faced and clad in one of Jungkook’s shirts that you picked up from the bed. His scent filled the shirt, shampoo and body soap mixed with a slight edge of his natural musk. It was almost dizzying in your current state of arousal.

The heat between your legs distracted you throughout your breakfast as you sat at your small kitchen table across from Jungkook, but falling into a conversation with him came naturally. Your boyfriend lying to your boss about your sickness went easily forgotten as you began to enjoy the day off.

Before long, your plate was empty and all that remained in your glass of iced coffee was a few melting ice cubes. Looking over to Jungkook’s side of the table, you noticed that his dishes were also cleared of food.

“I’ll clean the dishes.” You said, getting up with your silverware, glass, and plate in hand.

“I won’t fight you on that.” He chuckled, getting up from his chair and grabbing his things too. “I’ll pour us some wine.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You affirmed.

As you set the now-clean items on the drying rack, you turned to find Jungkook leaning against the kitchen island with two wine glasses in one hand and a bottle of some nameless wine that someone had gifted to Jungkook not too long ago in the other while he grinned at you.

“Couch?” He asked.

“Couch.” You nodded, nerves building in you once again at the mention of the location.

You were just about to finish your second glass when you noticed Jungkook reaching for the bottle to pour himself the last bits of wine left inside.

“Nooo.” You whined, causing him to turn and face you in the process of pouring the remaining alcohol into his own glass. “I wanted it.”

“Nuh-uh.” He playfully turned his body away from you so that you couldn’t reach for the wine as he poured it. “This was my idea, so I get to have three cups. We can open another bottle anyway. We have a shit load.”

“But this one tastes yummy.” You complained, grabbing onto his shoulder to lightly urge him to face you.

He looked into your pleading eyes for a few moments with his lips pressed into a tight line before he huffed.

“Fine! But on one condition.” He set the bottle down on the table.

You raised your eyebrow at him expectantly. “What is the condition?”

“I’ll pour you this last glass if you join me in the shower when you’re finished with it.”

The shower? Oh boy. “I already took a shower, Kook.”

“So?” He smirked. “That doesn’t mean anything. I want you in the shower if I give you this last glass.”

Slightly warm and agreeable from the delicious wine, you gave in with a grumble. “Fine. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“Sweet.” Jungkook gestured for you to offer your glass so that he could fill it. Once he did, he brought the empty wine bottle to the kitchen and dropped it into the recycling bin, only to turn around and meet your following eyes as he stalked towards your bedroom with a devious smile on his lips. “See you in a few.”

You watched with slightly parted lips as he turned back around while beginning to hum an aimless tune to skip the rest of the way, giving you whiplash with how quickly he could turn from a man that made you lustfully feral to a boy that made you want to joyfully frolic through a meadow.

Determined to remain true to your word, you sipped your wine quickly. He wanted to be joined in the shower? So be it. It wasn’t long before your glass was empty once again.

Three glasses of wine and adrenaline pumping the alcohol quickly through your veins were the factors that caused you to feel a slight head rush and a bit loopy once you stood from the couch. Giggling softly at your condition, you left your empty glass next to his and headed in the direction of your bedroom.

Distantly, you heard smooth notes of a familiar song drifting from the bathroom. Jungkook loved to sing in the shower and you loved to listen to it. The sound of the water running only made taking a shower with him more inviting as you approached the closed bathroom door.

Sneaking in quietly, you shed your clothes once again, hoping to take him by surprise. Your plan only resulted in failure when Jungkook slid the door open to beckon you inside when you were in the middle of taking off your boyfriend’s shirt.

“C’mon, babe. We haven’t got all morning.” He smiled, wet hair mussed and pressed to his forehead.

“We don’t?” You laugh as you step inside so that he could close the door behind you. Immediately, you were encased in the tight, warm, and humid space. “I’m pretty sure that you made it so that we do.”

Swiftly, Jungkook wrapped his arm around your waist and spun you around to meet the steady stream of water. Crowding your back with his chest, Jungkook pressed his face up against the back of your neck.

“I know, babe, but I have a few plans now that you’re off.”

“Plans, you say?” You giggled and craned your head down to get his wandering nose away from your neck. He knew that you were ticklish and loved to attack the spot when he got playful.

“Yes ma’am.”

After a moment of standing in the shower, the telltale signs of your situation becoming hot and steamy made themselves prominent in the form of Jungkook’s semi-hard erection brushing your skin and the subtle notes of a growl tainting the edge of his exhales.

“You alright there, baby?” You teased.

“Mhm.” He hummed, detaching a hand from your body to reach for the showerhead. “Just wanna rinse you really quick.”

“Be my guest.” You let your head fall back to rest on his shoulder and closed your eyes, heart slightly picking up its pace at the elevating tension. For a moment, both of Jungkook’s arms left you to change the setting on the water pressure and you felt the steady stream turn harsh right below your collarbones.

You hummed in appreciation while he returned one of his arms around your waist and began running the water over your shoulders and arms with the other. Gradually, he began massaging you with it.

It wasn’t long before Jungkook’s true intentions came to the surface; slowly, the point of the pressure moved south from your shoulders to your breasts. You felt the showerhead point the stream closer and closer to your nipples, causing your eyelids to flutter open and look at the man delivering the sensations to your body.

You gasped softly as the water covered your left nipple and Jungkook tore his gaze from your chest to meet your eyes once you did. What greeted you in his irises was pure, prominent desire.

“Kookie.” You whispered, lips brushing his as your body became electrified like a live wire.

“Say the word, baby.” He crooned softly, encouraging. The pressure on your nipples only left you with your lips slightly parted and taking sharp inhales with a whine teasing your throat. Jungkook only continued to push you along, desperate to hear. “That’s it, baby. Say it.”

You whimpered, barely able to get it out. “Please.”

“As you wish, my love.”

And then he made the showerhead descend further down.

Your toes curled against the floor in anticipation that was fueled by how slow he moved. Your stomach vibrated while the water migrated down your expanse of skin to the place you wanted it most.

As the water touched the top of your mound, you reached up and curled an arm around Jungkook’s neck to prepare for the onslaught.

Your moan was unexpected; the force of the water shocked you into submission instantly.

Jungkook’s grip on you tightened soon after, followed by the low, comforting ‘sh’ that slid through his teeth when your body curled inwards.

The water pressure, turned high, forced its way past your pussy lips with no trouble at all. In its trajectory, your clit was battered as the only thing in the showerhead’s path. The intense amount of stimulation had you approaching an orgasm faster than you could count to three.

“Jungkook,” You whined at a high pitch, unused to the most adamant sensation of pleasure you’d felt in a while.

“You’re okay, baby. Just breathe. It’s alright.” Your boyfriend’s voice in your ear came out as a soothing coo, yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to breathe correctly when he was holding the showerhead so close to your bundle of nerves and tightening his grip around your waist to prevent you from escaping.

“I-I-“ You breathed so fast, it almost felt like you were hyperventilating. Your clit, taking the entirety of the assault by the water, throbbed wildly and spasmed as if attempting to get out from under the force.

Almost on instinct, you raised a leg to allow the water more access the the entirety of your pussy, hoping that your orgasm would crest upon you before you lost your mind, and braced your raised foot against Jungkook’s knee. You hoped that taking the attention off your clit would help balance out how boggled your mind was, but all it did was drive you crazy when you felt the pressure beginning to spread your folds apart to push inside.

“Oh, no. Now I can’t let that happen.” Jungkook spoke as if he were speaking to a child in disdain, repeating the word ‘no’ a few more times with his bottom lip jutted into a pout.

He moved the showerhead back up to solely torture your clit, warranting you to cry out and tighten your arm around the back of his neck while you squeezed your eyes shut. His voice turned into a growl. “I’m the only one who gets to be inside you.”

“No!” You groaned in frustration, jerking your hips in response to the stream returning to your most sensitive area. “Nononono baby, please.”

“It’s unhealthy for you, baby. I can’t put water up there. So just be a good girl and take it here.”

Jungkook seemed to punctuate his statement with a light twist of his wrist to circle your clit with the showerhead. Your legs shook from the strain of spreading them so hard and trembled from the new burst of stimulation.

It only took another few moments for your body to begin curling in on itself again.

“K-kook.” Your teeth chattered as you mumbled his name, eyes rolling back into your head.

Jungkook braced his back against the wall before squeezing your waist to lift your body against his chest. You had half the mind to help him, supporting some of your weight on his neck so that you could wrap your other leg around his to spread your thighs even further.

“You gonna cum?” His breathing was harsh in your ear as he watched your body.

Your response came out as a whimper of affirmation, unsure of how to speak with the vibrations of the water shooting up your spine and back down to your curling toes.

Jungkook’s erection throbbed against your back while you let out sounds that were a mixture of huffs for breath and moans of pleasure. At this point, though, you couldn’t bring yourself to care about anything but making sure you orgasmed in the next five seconds.

You knew you were going to cum when you felt the tingling sensation spread like wildfire from your battered nub. It bloomed in your lower belly and seared every muscle in its path throughout your body, causing all of the sinew and tendons to tighten in response. As the orgasm ripped through you, your body became rigid with a few jerks of sensitivity.

Your eyes rolled back and you pressed your forehead against the side of Jungkook’s neck with the need to be as close to him as possible during your orgasm. Your ecstasy seared through you and overtook your body to act on its own accord. Far beyond the darkness of your eyelids, you reveled in the immense satisfaction, pussy spasming in the aftershocks.

Once Jungkook removed the showerhead and your body calmed, he slowly lowered you back down to the floor. Shaky legs prevented you from standing completely straight and you laughed breathlessly at how the prior activities caused an uncanny amount of oversensitivity in your nether regions.

One step forward and your clit was slightly rubbed, shooting sparks of mild pain and pussy-clenching pleasure throughout your stomach.

“You shouldn’t have done that, babe. I’m way too sensitive for any more action now.”

“That’s alright, love.” Jungkook kissed the side of your temple and switched you around so that he could stand under the stream of the shower. “Go and get dried off and dressed. I’ll meet you in the living room for a movie?”

As if it was glaring at you, you couldn’t help but drag your eyes down your boyfriend’s toned body to the angry red tip of his dick.

“I, uh…” You trailed off sheepishly. “I can suck you off? Let me help you out.”

“No, it’s okay, babe. Now, go.” He ushered you out of the shower while you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Why was he giving himself blue balls?

Leaving him alone in the shower was most definitely bothersome, but on shaky and fatigued legs, you couldn’t really fight him on the matter. As you toweled off and glanced through the shower door to look at Jungkook’s form, you furrowed your eyebrows even further when he didn’t start touching himself.

After you were dressed in his shirt- again- and sitting in the living room with Netflix open, ready for your boyfriend, you began to feel the exhaustion from your earlier activities on top of the fact that you hated waking up early for work. Comfortably warm, showered, and relaxed on an unexpected day off, the calm had your body sinking further into the couch and reveling in the warmth of the blanket placed over your body.

Just as you were about to drift off, you heard Jungkook padding down the hallway from your bedroom, prompting you to turn and look at him.

Your eyes had trouble staying on his playful expression when he was dressed the way he was dressed.

His hair was still wet, droplets dripping onto his shoulders and cascading down the expanse of his shirtless body. All that covered him was his favorite pair of raggedy joggers. Frankly, they were your favorite pair as well- for obvious reasons.

“Wine?” He asked as he made his way into the kitchen.

“Yesss.” You drawled with a newly awakened sense of excitement.

After grabbing two bottles and popping them open, he snuggled into the couch with you, wine glasses in hand. You held your breath and attempted to control your body, pussy pulsating slightly from the aftermath of the shower.

It took a while to get back to where you were before, but once you were much past the point of being giggly, you began to slur your speech as the movie played on.

Jungkook wasn’t in much better shape.

“You know,” Jungkook sat up and swayed a little too far forward, catching his body right before he toppled over. He snickered at himself before he continued. “I haven’t really been paying attention to anything we’ve been watching.”

“What?” You were honestly shocked, drunken mind and all. “But ‘About Time’ is so good! Like, what the heck Kookie-ookie-ook! This movie is so cute and interesting.”

The new nickname sent you into a fit of giggles. Your creativity tended to get a bit wonky and, honestly, comical when you were drunk.

“But how could I possibly pay attention to the movie when I’ve been thinking about burying my cum in-between your legs for the past hour?”

His statement surprised you to say the least. Your pussy throbbed uncontrollably, sensitivity still present from the shower. You couldn’t help but think of how sex with him in your current state would be.

“Why didn’t you let me suck your dick in the shower? I could’ve taken care of you, you know.”

“But I wanted to give you a break so that I could cum inside. That’s the only place I want to cum.”

“So you don’t want to cum down my throat?” You blamed the wine for the filthily honest statements coming out of both or your mouths. Speaking this casually about your sexual activities wasn’t exactly the norm.

“On any other day, I’d say yes. But today? I really just want to fill you up. Fuck you all day.” Your boyfriend inched towards you slowly without actually looking at you. It seemed that he just wanted to be in a closer proximity with you yet was hesitant to get too close. “Make you bloated. Hear it slosh around when you move.”

You were kind of mortified, but you were also extremely horny at the same time. Of course, he wouldn’t be able to bloat you nor would he be able to hear his cum inside of you, but it was the thought that counted.

“You wanna fuck?”

Jungkook turned to completely face you, chocolate-brown doe eyes silently pleading for the go-ahead. He bit his bottom lip before pushing it out into a pout as he whined. “Uhuh.”

You laughed as you threw off the blankets and spread your bare legs. Your boyfriend’s shirt came to rest on your waist from the action.

You gestured to your crotch and then curled your fingers towards yourself, smiling.

“Come to momma.”

Jungkook did not hesitate to cover you with his body and kiss you sloppily. The wine was taking its toll on your movements with him, encasing him in your hold lazily.

Somewhere between the messy tongues and teeth, Jungkook had managed to push your panties aside to thumb over your sensitivity. It took everything in you to not scream out- whether it would be a scream in pain or pleasure still had yet to be determined.

Your nub tingled desperately, pleasure-fatigued and vulnerable to the ministrations of Jungkook’s thumb. Finally, though, he had begun dipping his fingers into your core to balance out the bliss.

“Gonna paint you white. Make it drip.” Jungkook mumbled almost incoherently as he spoke with your bottom lip sucked between his plump ones. Your fingers threaded into his blonde locks, tugging when you needed a way to release your sexual frustration from his dirty words.

You hadn’t noticed when he retracted his fingers from your depths, but you definitely felt the sensation of him rubbing his dick into your folds. The smooth surface of his tip contrasted sharply with the roughness of the pad of his thumb. You hadn’t even realized that he had slipped the waistband of his sweatpants down to free his erection.

The sensation was beginning to sober you up just a little.

As he slipped inside you, you keened, angling your hips to receive him. He kept one hand hooked around your panties to keep it to the side and circled the other around your waist to allow himself to lay atop you. All of his body weight crushed you into the couch, but the closeness of him on you was gratifying.

Jungkook dug his face into your neck, moaning softly as your velvet walls parted to caress his cock. He wanted to feel your pussy drag on him and squeeze in an attempt to bring him back inside. He needed to feel how much your body enjoyed him inside of you.

So he kept his movements to a slow minimum, lazily curling his hips to just barely rear back so that he could reenter with an unmotivated rhythm. It was perfect for you because your mind was already warm and fuzzy, unable to keep up with much.

You sighed in relief, feeling his skin rubbing against your clit as he bottomed out time and time again. He separated your walls agonizingly slow, yet it was the perfect rhythm that allowed you to feel each time the head of his dick kissed the end of your cavern.

You moaned softly as the movie played on, begging for attention but receiving none. It was no use ignoring the fact that your orgasm was building with Jungkook’s hips touching your skin. Even at the leisurely pace that he fucked you, the passion was ever present and working you up.

For the next ten minutes, Jungkook kept his tempo gentle and relaxed, uncaring of reaching his climax too soon. You, on the other hand, reached your tipping point as he dug his nails into your waist.

Almost like a dream, your orgasm layered itself onto you softly. You trembled under his weight but held him closer to help accommodate the bliss of your muscles contracting around Jungkook’s deliberate thrusts.

When you heard the tell-tale sign of your boyfriend softly grunting into your skin, you could tell he was beginning to feel his impending orgasm born from your own. It was only moments later that he began leaving sloppy kisses and love bites onto your neck as he shuddered a breath.

Calm and still quite drunk, you still managed to feel his cock pulsing against the restrictive embrace of your depths. You ran your fingers through his hair and smiled delightfully at the sensation of being the one to receive his love and affection. The temptation to to kiss his sweaty temple was too strong to resist once he ceased moving and slumped against you.

The silence was peaceful. Minutes had passed without a word. The afterglow of your sex was strong and loving, warming the two of you like a blanket.

From the way he breathed so evenly, you believed that Jungkook had fallen asleep. It was only when he let out a light chuckle that you looked down and saw him smiling with his cheek smushed against your chest.

“I like drunk sex.” He muttered. “It’s fun.”

You had to agree with him on that one. “I think it’s fun too.”

After a beat, he whined. “But why do I still want moreee?”

“I’m afraid that’s not entirely up to you.” You tipped your head back and laughed, inebriated mind coming up with more silly nicknames. “It seems that Mister PP can’t take any more right now.”

Drunk Jungkook was one you could always get behind. Instead of acting like an idiot, he acted like a kid- not the bratty kind, of course. He was cute and cuddly, a perfect opposite to how he acted sober.

However-

The moment he attempted to retain his erection by pulling it out of you and yelling at it became one of the few moments that he acted like a complete idiot.

“No! He can go again! Isn’t that right, Mister PP?” You watched as his dick gave one last jerk of life before it began softening. You wheezed from laughter as your boyfriend’s eyes widened in horror. “No! You can’t do this to me right now! We were supposed to fuck her full of cum!”

“It’s okay, babe.” You reassured him as you slowly nudged him off of you so that you could go clean yourself. “Just take a break, okay?”

On shaky legs, once again, you stood and headed for the bathroom to clean yourself with a giggle slipping past your lips.

Once you got back to the living room, your eyes immediately zeroed in on Jungkook sitting upright on the couch, tenderly stroking his dick through his sweatpants with a look of defeat on his face. You just sighed and grabbed the remote to turn up the volume of the TV in hopes of distracting him.

He couldn’t help it. He was much too drunk to get himself hard again so soon after sex, so you would wait until he was since he was so determined.

The movie as well as your second bottle of wine were coming to an end when he screamed in success. You jumped out of your skin at the exclamation, placing a hand over your racing heart.

“Yes! He did it! He’s back!” You looked at him in shock when he reached into his waistband to grip himself. His eyes locked with yours as he did so, smirking in the process.

You raised an eyebrow at him expectantly, yet below your cool exterior was the unavoidable truth that was the awakening of the flames of your desire.

“Is this why you called me out today?” You turned your whole body to face him. “So you could fuck me all day?”

“Mhm.” He affirmed, grabbing you and slowly turning you onto your stomach. “That’s exactly why. I just need to be inside you. Like, all the time.”

As you felt him slide your panties down your legs, the tone in his voice changed. The chuckle he let out wasn’t nearly cute and innocent anymore; his demeanor became dark and menacing.

“I called you out so that I could fuck you all day- in every way I could think of.”

A shiver ran up your spine at the sudden shift of mood. Your body, worn out and exhausted, still managed to vibrate in excitement when Jungkook took a handful of your ass and squeezed it harshly. He leaned over your body to whisper in your ear after running a hand under your shirt to tweak a nipple between his fingers.

“You got the lazy vanilla shit first. Now, let’s play.”

~#~

If you’d like to read more of my work, feel free to check out my Masterlist!

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eponymous-rose · 3 years

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Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E129 (March 16, 2021)

Tonight’s guests are Matt Mercer and Taliesin Jaffe!

Matt, on DMing Luc’s Revivify: “That was weird. It’s one thing when it happens because of player action and circumstances and the choices they make. When it’s entirely on me, unintentional, and just realizing different chess pieces you’ve set up, that’s rough.” It was especially rough since this was a child NPC related to a PC. “I was hoping somebody had a spell slot left.” He kept in mind that there are two clerics in the room and that they could resurrect the next day even if the Revivify went poorly. “A good chance, since it’s his first time. Okay, okay, okay, okay, I think we’ll be okay, we’ll see how this goes. It was really stressful in the moment! I did not set out to have that happen, but when I realized what was going to happen, I tried to see it through.” He wouldn’t have prevented a chance to bring him back. “There may have been an offshoot short-run series of games to find a way to bring him back. I would have found some way to correct the circumstance so the players could feel good about moving forward with the story and there was no undue punishment beyond their control.”

Taliesin on Cad’s response: “This is a big thing if you’re a cleric. It was very much coming in like an EMT. Everything should be fine... hopefully. Just focused in and got it done. The minute things started to go south it was like, okay, that’s the next problem.”

On Yeza’s feelings: “It is a very complicated situation. I think he, much like how Veth is trying to figure out what it is that she wants, I think he’s trying to help her find that while also figuring it out for himself. I think Yeza’s also noticing that because Veth’s the more active of the two of them she also takes the weight of the responsibility and the blame for things when they go wrong, unnecessarily. Especially when he himself acknowledges that he’s partially at fault for even dragging everyone in with the Conclave. As much as he’s appreciative for them coming back for him, there’s a lot of back and forth. He’s filled with a lot of regret, too, but he’s very much trying to convince Veth that it’s a burden that she doesn’t have to keep to herself, that they can share it and work through it together.” Matt mentions that, as an actor, he really loves exploring interactions between characters first and foremost. “Especially when you don’t know where it’s going to go.” He also praises Sam as a scene partner - “I really cherish that.”

How does Caduceus feel about Revivify and Speak with Dead? “Speak with Dead is an interesting middle ground, because he knows that it’s not actually speaking with the dead. It’s really just-- it’s almost medical, really. This is just reactivating a brain at a certain point. It’s practically just a muscle twitch at this point. That doesn’t really prod him in that direction. Revivify is interesting, because it had never really come up. At first I thought of it as bending the rules, but it’s not bending the rules. You knock over a plant, you replant it, you don’t stare at it and go ‘Well, that’s over.’ This is just doing the work. No, we can bring this thing back to health. This is all part of the circle of life, that sometimes we can save something. Especially given the stress that he’s put himself through over the past year of being with these people. He’s started to think of himself a bit as a battlefield medic, and triage is just part of the deal, and it’s completely acceptable.”

Did Trent really just want to talk? “Yeah, that circumstance, as it came together, Trent would never have arrived if there wasn’t an indication that there was some kind of infiltration or attack. Even beyond that, it was Jester breaking the concentration on her charm on that one guard when she created her duplicate.” The guards’ job is to inform a member of the Cerberus Assembly, and Trent lived the closest. “He didn’t know who it was, didn’t have any expectation necessarily. The minute he saw the illusion, he knew a powerful magic user was involved.” Seeing Caleb was an unexpected surprise. “I don’t think he wanted to throw down necessarily. He was more interested in figuring out exactly what the nature of this was.” Matt had multiple battlemaps that didn’t get used. “They managed to cleverly out-maneuver him in his surprise of seeing them.” The Nein rocketed up his priority list after that very quickly. Taliesin: “We’re so fucked.”

On Cad being “Uncle Caduceus” to Luc: “It’s the thing he misses most about home, is being a juvenile shit. It’s nice to be able to express that part of him again, as opposed to the serious, life-threatening, constant intensity. I’m very at home just being a little difficult.”

Cosplay of the Week: an amazing Beau! (_rumor_king, photography by kourtyardproductions on Instagram)

On Marion: “Like a lot of people in this whole narrative from the beginning, getting swept up in things larger than her and trying to adapt. This is a circumstance she’s avoided for a long time. She’s having a rough time in some ways, but simultaneously, she’s enduring. Like a mother would. She’s adapting, she’s making it work. Without much of a choice, you just kind of do the best you can and lean on the people around you to help you where they can. Luckily she has a daughter there. She’s probably surprising herself at how well she’s doing given the circumstances.” Matt talks about how weird it is to feel proud of character he’s created. “Of the many things Marion is incredible at, she’s a studier of the human condition. She’s seen and heard the stories of so many. That gives her a very special perspective. She can see elements of that fractured individual within Caleb, and knowing the good that he’s brought to his friends, and knowing he’s possibly saved her life from bad circumstances, she couldn’t not speak up. She very easily falls into that role of maternal comforter, because it’s one of the many things she’s really good at, she enjoys it, and she can see well when people need it.” He’s been enjoying having Marion along for this (despite the difficult circumstances) because he was always a little sad that they only got to see her for short periods of time.

On the Blooming Grove’s safety: “He’s afraid that it’s a premonition. He’s not pinned it down, but he’s happy to let his imagination wander. He at the very least feels like there’s a reason he’s having these thoughts, and that there’s a reason to go there. He’s a big believer that these things don’t just happen. He’s more likely to think that there’s a good reason to go versus a danger to go. He’s had a couple of ominous warnings lately, and he’s not used to them and not a fan. He’s more likely to read something like that as, there is something there waiting for you that you have to discover. There is something that is going to be helpful to you, even if it hurts.”

On Astrid: “While maybe not as readable in overall personality as Trent is, I still want to be careful to not discuss things that are still being discussed within the game and tossed around as possibilities. Astrid is another complicated character, as anyone would be who’s been through the life she has. I can’t say too much. I can say she’s definitely legitimately happy to see Bren/Caleb after all this time.” His reemergence definitely caught her off guard. “We’ll have to see where it goes from there.”

On Cad’s successful Divine Intervention: “He’s definitely hit the ‘on a mission from god’ stage. He’s been that way for the entire campaign of, this, this is what I’ve been waiting for. Even when it sucks a lot, it’s been nice that those things have popped up to remind him, no, no, you’re doing it right, everything’s good. Probably not going to survive the next week, but you’re doing good! Not quite 1 in a 100 chance, but I forget so often to make that roll, and it’s such a great roleplaying roll. I don’t know how at level 20 you could deal with the fact that you can do that every day.”

On Zeenoth getting his comeuppance: the kidnapping was a concept Marisha brought up for Beau’s backstory, and Matt went with it even though it was opposed to the Cobalt Soul’s philosophy because he knew rooting it out would make for an interesting story. “I felt it was an important beat to bring to her, because it was something that she was wronged by. And to show that there are still some good people out there who are trying to make things right.” After the tentative peace, dealing with this became Dairon’s next focus. “I was glad we finally got to it. So many people don’t have the opportunity in their lives to get that sort of justice and vindication, so if I can bring elements of that justice into our world, even for our own hope, I’m going to do that. Especially for my wife’s character, especially for a character that deserves that.” Taliesin points out that if it had come too early, Beau wouldn’t have believed it.

Cad’s thoughts on the Tomb Taker betrayal? “He knew it was gonna come at some point. There was no way that was gonna last. He was hoping it was gonna last a little longer. He was really hoping they had a vested interest in getting them all the way to the end. Nope, this is apparently as far as we go, and he was not prepared for that.” He was expecting the potential for de-escalation. “Caduceus is the only character in there that doesn’t have a history with Lucien. I think he sees him a little more clearly than everybody else does. They’re all looking for this person that Clay, at least, is of the opinion that he’s just not there. This is a very manipulative, very dangerous infernal human. Just smarter than all of them. Really aware that there is no calculating what the hell is going to happen. Conversation is the only way you can deal with someone like that.”

Fan Art of the Week: An amazing Caleb closeup! (rynn_birb on Twitter)

Taliesin on Lucien: “I’m excited he’s the one that’s going to kill us all. Poetic that this is how the game ends.” Matt was delighted when Taliesin handed him carte blanche to do what he wanted with Molly’s past. “I was like ‘shit... oh, wait!’ The character of Lucien was always intended to be an antagonist so that it would have been Molly being chased by the person who wanted their body back. But then it happened that he got his body back.” Taliesin: “He’s so much worse than I ever hoped.”

Matt, on the Holy Avenger: “I hadn’t thought to initially even give that sword.” The good roll was the only reason Kima handed that over. “Well, sure, you get the sword. It was very reactionary, it wasn’t my intent originally. I was like, well, I mean, there’s two avenues she can take with this.” Multiclass into Paladin, or lean into the fact that her subclass is essentially a barbarian paladin. “This really works out in a uniquely beautiful way. Let me see if I can lay out a path for her to earn it.”

On Cad’s attempt at lying blowing up in his face: “He was like that kid that had a really bad day in high school and was like, you know what? I’m going to let loose. This is it. I’m gonna dye a streak in my hair. And then tries to give himself a haircut and ends up with half bangs. Well, okay, obviously I’m not that person. I was feeling a little distraught and I didn’t handle it well. Maybe I’m going dark... no, I’m not going dark. Nope.” Matt mentions how much he relates to Caduceus.

Matt, on the Eyes: “What can I tell you? I’m enjoying the hell out of it. The moment they began to really push to read that book, I was like, okay, this is on you. I’m excited for the point in the narrative where the march continues back to Eiselcross. I am almost impatient - not really - because we’re on the cusp of getting to more of the meat. There’s so much to learn, so much to see, so much to explore. I love instilling my players with absolute terror.”

Thoughts on Jester’s Tarot reading? Taliesin cackles. “Molly made the cards, so. Did it to himself, he did, he did.” Matt: “Once again, another example of things working out unexpectedly and too perfectly for an improvised moment. Fuck.” Taliesin: “Bless the wisdom of chaos.” Matt: “I love that even at this point in the campaign, Molly continues to fuck with people. I’m just so proud. That deeply shook Lucien, for reasons.” Taliesin: “It’s the everlasting gobstopper smoke bomb.”

#critical role #critical role spoilers #talks machina #talks machina spoilers #long text post

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huntergatherercreator · 3 years

Note

Hello :) I was wondering if I could make a not so interesting request and I hope you don't mind 😅 So, like reader has kids with mob Tom Holland and you can decide the genders and number of kids they have and stuff and how would the whole family react to one of reader's friends constantly pursuing reader's love and when reader tells them that she's married and has kids, the lil shit is like "It's all right, just divorce them'' I have a feeling no one will be taking this lightly.....

Hey! I LOVED this idea!! I did switch it up to a co-worker because that's the first thing I thought of when I read this but I can definitely see him grudgingly having to put up with a childhood friend who just won't quit trying to make the reader see how in love with them they are. I feel like I need to write that too now....

Hope you're having a great day, take care and stay safe lovey 💜💜

----

Warnings: Some swearing, and super sleaze ball energy

1,389 words

“It’s just drinks,” you laughed as Tom buried his face into your neck with a sigh. You focused on the mirror, touching up your hair and smoothing over your outfit. It was just drinks but it was with your new work team. You’d all only met last week and you’d suggested a night out as a team building exercise. Nothing broke the new job nerves better than alcohol and bad karaoke.

Tweaking his curls you smiled as Tom reluctantly met your gaze in the mirror.

“You say that, but you’re not the one being left with the terrible two,” he grumbled.

You turned to cup his face, laughing at his small pout and chocolate puppy dog eyes.

“Is my big bad mob boss afraid of a couple teenagers?” you teased.

“I’m not afraid of them,” he growled. “I just don’t understand them. All I get are grunts and sighs from Thomas and with Katelyn its like she speaks a different language all together.” Hands wrapping around your waist he pulled you tight against him.

“Plus, you look too stunning to be let out without a chaperone. I think I need to come with you.” His hands wandered to your backside, fingers creeping down to lift the hem of your dress. “Or, you could stay home,” he purred seductively as he gripped the bare skin of your thighs.

As much as you didn’t want to you wriggled out of his grip. “We’ll have plenty of time for that when I get home.”

“I’m going to hold you to that,” he winked.

A horn blared from outside and you cursed, you didn’t want to be late. Tom deftly swept you into your jacket and handed you your purse.

“Have a good time, darling,” he said as you kissed him on the cheek quickly. With an appalled huff, he reeled you in for a proper kiss, holding you captive until the taxi beeped their horn again.

“I won’t be late. Have fun,” you called over your shoulder as you hurried out the front door.

----

The bar was packed already and you were struggling to find your table when a heavy hand landed on the small of your back.

“It’s Y/N right?” Relieved you found yourself staring up at one of your new co-workers. Your brain faltered for a second before finding his name.

“Max?” He smiled in a cocky overconfident way before leaning in closer.

“You can call me whatever you like, sweetheart.” You grimaced a smile, subtly inching back from him as the stench of his cologne clouded around you.

“Where’s the team table?” you asked, pointedly turning away and scanning the room again.

“It’s in the back corner.” When you moved in the direction he’d indicated he caught your arm. “The table service is pretty slow, if you want a drink we can get one from the bar.”

“I’m happy to wait. I’m going to go re-introduce myself to everyone.” Breaking out of his hold you strode to the table, the prickling feeling of being watched crawling over you until you were swept into the embrace of your favourite work friend.

“I’m so glad you’re here! I was talking about our last project and this one here,” she hooked a thumb at one of the young interns, “doesn’t believe we wrote the whole presentation ourselves after tequila shots.”

You laughed at the memory. When it came to work you took it seriously, if you didn’t you wouldn’t have been promoted to executive and leading this new team. However, that didn’t mean you didn’t know how to have some fun.

You fell into an easy conversation with them both and others of the party drifted over sporadically to shake your hand and introduce themselves a bit more.

“We’ve already met but I’ll take five minutes with you over everyone else.” A voice said at your ear. You already knew from the overpowering smell of cologne it was Max. Now it was mixed with a strong dose of rum and turned your stomach. He lounged against the table in front of you.

“Tell me, who did you have to sleep with to get this job? And is there a sign up sheet?” he winked. Your skin crawled. Tight lipped you judged whether you could justify wasting a perfectly good drink by dumping it over his head. You cast a critical eye over him. As much as he was dressed like a man of business his suit was clearly off the rack. It was too small in the shoulders and had a slight polyester sheen to it. He could pretend all he liked but he hadn’t worked on a team this high up before. If he had he’d be better dressed.

“That’s funny, I was just about to ask how much your daddy had to spent to get you on the team.” His eyes flashed dangerously then he slowly grinned.

“You’re feisty. I like that.” His gaze shamelessly travelled over you. You refused to cross your arms over your chest under his lecherous stare. You’d dealt with worse, you reminded yourself.

“I need another drink.” You told him bluntly and walked off towards the bar. You reluctantly tamped down the urge to fire him. This was outside of business hours, you’d deal with it on Monday morning you told yourself. You just had to get through the rest of the night first.

You’d just reached the bar when his hand gripped at your waist and his fetid breath washed over your neck.

“Keep running away, I like a challenge. It’ll only make it sweeter when I have you writhing under-”

Spinning you shoved him away.

“I’m happily married,” you snapped in disgust.

He only leered at you. “That’s what divorce is for, sweetheart.” Your fingers tightened on your glass as you readied to throw the contents of it at him.

“Get your sleazy hands away from my mum!” You blinked in surprise as Katelyn elbowed her way through the crowd to jab a finger in Max’s face. “Yeah, I’m talking to you, you piece of shit.”

“Katelyn.” you tried to scold her but the weight of it was lost as you laughed.

“You heard her.” Tom’s voice was dangerously low as he stalked to stand beside you. “If you so much as breath in the direction of my wife again it’ll be the last time you do anything.” A cocky smile covered Max’s face until Thomas stopped behind him and dug his hands into his shoulders.

“You heard my dad. If you have any common sense you won’t mess with us.”

Max snorted, “You think I’m scared of you? I could steal your wife any day-”

“Mr Holland, I wasn’t expecting you tonight.” The flustered manager of the bar accompanied by two security guards faltered as he took in the scene. “Is there an issue here?”

“There is, this idiot is threatening me,” Max sneered.

The manager didn’t divert his attention away from Tom for a second.

“This man’s been harassing my wife, could you escort him out Eddie?” Tom asked the closest guard.

“Sure thing, boss.”

“Boss?” Max scoffed. “What did you do? Pay them off? How pathetic.”

“I called him boss because he owns the place.” Eddie scowled, grabbing a fistful of Max’s suit jacket. Mouth gaping his beady eyes flickered between you and Tom.

“Fuck,” he swore as the pin finally dropped. You were surprised it had taken him this long to work it out. There weren’t many Holland’s in town after all.

“In case it isn’t perfectly clear, you’re fired.” you snapped. You watched him get dragged away, the crowd parting like the sea to avoid him.

“What are you all doing here?” you asked as Katelyn wrapped you in a hug from behind.

“Eddie called dad,” Thomas said, as if it was obvious.

“You had him watching me?”

“I always have someone watching you. I need to know you’re safe when I’m not with you.” Pulling you into his arms he captured your mouth, hand possessively winding around the nape of your neck as he kissed you deeply.

“Ew!” Katelyn complained just as Thomas said, “I think I’ve lost my appetite.”

Laughing you pulled back to swat playfully at them both.

“You just made sure I’m forever stuck with your dad, get used to it,” you smiled.

#mob!tom #mob!tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland

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marvelyhp · 3 years

Text

Still you

Chapter one: Lion's den

Sypnosis: Y/n decides to help the avengers despite their betrayal two years prior and her life makes a big shift once again.

pairing: Y/n x Bucky Barnes and some Y/n x Sam Wilson

word count: 3,452

warning: slight mention of sex, cursing.

note: I have this idea for a mini-series but I'm not sure if it will be liked so I guess I'll see where it goes. constructive criticism welcomed :)

Side note: if anyone wants to be tagged, you can leave a comment or message me :)

_______________

My knife pierced the air. A hand grabbed my wrist before I could strike the skin with the blade. The attacker threw me aside, spiraling me around. With my hand still in his grip, my left hand shot out to hit him on the temple. A grunt was heard from what I knew to be a man.

A hand collided with my ribs as they released my right hand. The air in my lungs was momentarily thin when there was pressure behind my knees, causing them to buckle. I refused to go down alone. My hand shot out to grab his neck in the dark, a small smile of triumph emerged on my face as I grabbed it. A mess of grunting and shortness of breath mixed with the sound of our bodies landing heavily on the ground. Rolling over while holding him tightly, I managed to get on top of his heavy build. My legs were spread beside his hips, sighing against the floor as my left hand pressed against his chest to prop myself up. I quickly pressed the kitchen knife in my right hand against his throat. I narrowed my eyes, trying to focus on my attacker's face despite the lack of light in the living room.

I was panting when I could place the color on his eyes. Steely blue orbs stared back at me, an emotion I couldn't decipher was shining deep. Sweat ran down his eyebrows and perspiration glistened on his forehead. There I was, staring at the man I'd thought of for two years. I held his gaze, unable to look away and so did he. However, I was the first to break eye contact as my eyes roamed over his face, finally pausing on the lush curve of his lips. They were slightly open, breathing heavily. I hoped to hide how my breath caught, looking away when the images of his mouth doing more than breathing interrupted my mind. I tried to think about everything that had happened to recapture the initial hatred and disdain I felt for the man in front of me two years ago.

I noticed the way his hand was bent in front of our bodies, a clear sign of defeat as he breathed rapidly from the struggle, just like me. I looked into his eyes once more as I thought about the precarious position we were both in. However, I did not move. The trust between him and I had been broken a long time ago, something my body would have to understand. I couldn’t trust him and I would never do so again. Just when I thought we were alone, another voice came from the apartment's voice.

"That's why I told you to go first, Manchurian Candidate. She always had a soft spot for you. See, Romanoff?" Tony Stark's irritating voice invaded my living room. The sound of his voice interrupting the fantasies I was engaging in my head. Annoyance coated my mood knowing who was in the house and the fact that someone else was on the line, listening and probably seeing everything. I so didn't miss this. I flatly ignored any kind of indication that he was standing near me while still staring at Bucky's face. Taking him in for the first time in two years.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, confusion and irritation filling my tone. It was mostly irritation since they broke into my apartment, in the middle of the night during the best sleep I've had in a while. Yes, I was definitely annoyed. I looked at James, who was still pinned under the weight of my body. A weight I was sure he could flip at any time if he wanted. I resisted the urge to snarl.

"We came because we need your help." Of course, they did. Why else would they come? I fought the unpleasant feelings that threatened to resurface and just stared at him. His breathing had slowed down from the strain earlier. So did mine. I noticed that our chests were moving at the same rhythm and part of me asked if it had anything to do with us, with how well our bodies knew each other. If they remembered what I thought had happened. I tried to focus on his responses rather than the way his warmth felt against my core, the skin of my thighs, and my hand pressing against his chest. Instead of the way the curve of his body felt against mine. Instead of his lips and the way they felt on my skin, tracing every inch of me. My right hand pressed against his stomach, the feel of his hard muscles and the heat seeping through my skin made me hyper-aware of our position. I mentally slapped myself before letting a humorless laugh escape my lips. I noticed the way his eyes focused on me.

"Why didn't you knock?" I cussed myself. After all this time they come looking for me, just for help and the first thing I tell them is to knock on the door. It was a ridiculous remark because even if they had, I wouldn't have opened the door. I had to give them credit. They remembered quite well how angry I left the compound. On top of that, they remembered enough about me to know that I didn't trust anyone enough to open any damn doors. Well, if I was giving away credits, some could be given to Stark. It was a smart move to put Bucky in the lead because as much as he hurt me, I could never hurt him. Oh, and how I tried that day. I had two years to think about what occurred, to think about everything. I tried to hate him and I failed miserably. I tried to forget it and it never worked. I could never forget that he had been the only one who had not treated me as a threat or maybe he only thought so. He knew what I had been getting off from. Either way, it didn’t matter. Stark would’ve been stabbed for sure.

"Would you have opened it?" The question came in a mocking tone. I became alert when his right hand took mine, pulling the dagger away from his neck. I forbid myself to feel any kind of sympathy when I saw a thin red cut where my dagger had been, a single drop draping at the end. I was ripped out of my thoughts when my breathing hitched. His left hand brushed the bottom of my thigh, hidden out of Tony's sight. My breath caught in my throat as his hand settled on my smooth skin, his fingertips digging into my thigh.

"No, probably not." My voice came calmer than I thought. Even then, I realized that he was out of breath and I hated myself for it. how conscious I was of him. The skin under his palm was burning, a blazing trail following his every move, every touch. The hotness was beginning to spread the more he gripped my skin. My breathing became more and more erratic once his hand started rubbing the outer part.

"Well, that's enough lovebirds." Tony's voice shifted me back to where I was and the situation surrounding us. So, I did what I should have done a while ago. I sprung up from his body, welcoming the cold rush of air I felt cooling the hotness of my skin. The hand he used to rub me was now rubbing the cut on his neck gently. I turned to flick the light, the brightness stinging my eyes for a second before I turned my head towards Bucky.

In a swift movement, he was standing beside me. The ocean of his eyes looking straight into me. Memories of us invaded my brain before a deep disdain grew in my chest. I ignored every emotion that I didn’t understand —neither cared to— swimming in his eyes. I cursed myself as my body still felt flushed with the way he looked at me. A warm sensation pooling in my lower abdomen. I looked away, a scowl creeping onto my face as I laid eyes on Stark´s form. Everything I felt and desired to forget was whisked away by it, my hate for Stark coming in full bloom.

I couldn't help but distort my face in a frown. He had undervalued and underestimated me so many times before I had no more sympathy for the mortal. I never pondered why I had faith he would ever consider me part of his team, of his family. I clearly tried giving too much compassion to the human race.

“You want my help? You?” my finger pointed towards the red and gold suit standing in the corner of my dining space. A snort flew past my lips as a humorless laugh came deep from within my chest. This definitely had to be an emergency. That, or the man was a masochist and he finally discovered what makes him tick after two years.

“Believe me, failed human, I’m not happy about this. However, I do accept you’re the only one, besides Wanda, able to kill enemies with a wider range.” He looked physically hurt to be saying the last part. He had never been good at admitting things about people he never liked.

I kept my face impassive but the truth of how I felt when I heard those words was different. I was suddenly taken back to the times where this was a daily occurrence. Where I was shunned, verbally abused, and not wanted every day. Not only by Tony but by Hydra and just about everyone. I thought about my so-called family back home. About all those times I- I couldn’t even continue. My resentment and hatred for Stark erupted in me, bringing back years of unsaid words and silent tears in the corners. I tried to calm my rapid breathing and the itching in my hands to stab him.

“You can go to hell, Stark.” I stalked off towards the kitchen, knowing if I stood there any longer this would result in a bloodbath. something to create space between us was needed. I let the knife drop with a clank on the sink. I allowed my body to rest against the counter, my hands gripping the edges. Exhaustion made its way quickly through my body though not as heavily as before these days. The alertness and adrenaline in my body numbing the feeling.

“Unfortunately, that’s where we’ll all go if you don’t help us. We need your powers to save the world, falsie. Your time to shine,” his smile was forced and the trust he wanted me to feel was nonexistent. “Oh, and has anyone hinted you look like shit over here? What have you been doing these past two years? Not a glow-up I presume.” The last words were muttered but he knew I would hear because of my god-like abilities.

I was hurt at every word he said but I was mad at myself for letting him affect me. Both feelings moved lively inside me, both wanting attention right this moment. I couldn’t let him see how hurt I was by his words because I knew that was what he wanted. I wondered how his life with Pepper Potts was. But a part of me thought that was irrelevant since he hadn’t liked me since the moment he saw me. His distaste and distrust had been clear since the beginning. He thought he was better, more morally right. Even then, I had never put cared ones in danger, but he had.

As mad as I was, he was right. The bags under my eyes were dark and prominent and they were sign enough of my lack of sleep. Exhaustion had taken a toll on my body. Getting two or four hours of sleep was becoming more and more difficult to withstand. I was aware of how much weight I had lost since I saw them but paranoia wasn't exactly your friend if you were hiding from killers and triggers for your mind. Having to run every few months and hide was becoming tiring. I was mentally and physically exhausted. The desire to tamper with my memories and make me forget became increasingly stronger as days went by but I knew I couldn't. I needed to remember every deed I had done and I needed to remember how I felt while I did it. I felt obliged to suffer for them.

“Fuck you.”

“So touchy,” he sat in the gray chair of the black dining table beside the door. His fingertips stroke the tip of the snake plant in the center of it. I just stared. Hostility irradiated from my person and expanded across the room. The tension in the air strong as a chokehold. “I have deprecating nicknames for everyone. Don’t feel special.” I wanted to punch that fucking denigrating smile right out of his face. He knew what bothered me the most. He knew my insecurities and I felt an instant disdain flare-up in my body towards James. I wanted to punch them but I opted to be more civilized and not act like exactly what he thought I was.

“I didn’t escape Hydra after 60 years so some asshole with an overinflated sense of self-worth could treat me like the scum of the earth. Sorry, metal can but you’ll have to shove your world-saving mission up your ass.” I snapped. So much for acting civilized.

“The kitty’s got claws. Was wondering when they would say hello.” He puckered his lips, a mocking gesture soon followed by the rise of his eyebrows. He looked towards Bucky, wiggling his brows. A whistle interrupted the sudden silence filling the room. Before I could even register, the desire to climb across the counter and smash his face against it flourished in me like poisoned vines. Before I could complete the action, Bucky’s voice reached my ears.

"Y/n, please. Thousands we’ll die if we don’t fight this war. If you don’t help us, we will die.” Bucky stepped closer to the counter, hands resting against the edge.

“What makes you think I will prevent that?”

“Even if we don’t win it, it will lessen the casualties,” his eyes bored straight into mine. “We need you.”

I need you.

The sincerity in his voice and the pleas of help smudged all over his voice softened the raging anger inside my heart. Unsaid words hanged around us like leaves falling from trees, already softening the walls I had built around my heart. Doubts surfaced.

My wish to leave Tony fend for himself battled with the faces of those who defended me at some point in my stay in the Avenger’s tower and while I was on the run with both Steve and Bucky. Steve and Natasha had been weary of me, as I expected they would but they warmed up to me. We were not exactly brothers and sisters but they tried to help. I had thought of them to be friends or something close before I found everything out. Wanda had tried to understand me and be there. She had not been involved in anything. And Vision, he had always been an ally and never doubted my loyalty. He never knew of the plan either. Banner didn’t talk much and T’challa was a friend. Tony was the person that made my life a living hell and turned everyone against me.

I tried to understand him, at first. I thought he was trying to protect his team, his people. I was a potential threat and I understood that but I never implied or acted as though I wanted to hurt them like he made everyone think. Every time he had a chance, he would mention disloyalty or my so-called shady behavior. Yes, I had problems trusting my own mind after Hydra, but I never wanted to hurt the people my brother trusted and the people who gave me a home. I knew what triggered the memories and the episodes of countless tortures, experiments, and missions made for and by Hydra. I was also aware of who I killed and T’challa helped with the rest. He thought my actions to protect myself -and them indirectly- made me a menace.

After some time, I knew I would never win his favor and change what he thought about me. How he saw me. So, I stopped trying too.

A war raged inside me. I felt conflicted. For one, I didn’t know how everyone would react to seeing me after two years, especially when I didn’t leave on the best terms. Two years in which they knew nothing about me and never tried to. It had stung that none of them tried to find me or followed me after I left devastated that night. But Bucky, Bucky hurt the most. I thought he felt towards me or at least cared for me but I was mistaken. I had left hope brew inside me when I shouldn’t have. We all know hope is a dangerous and deadly thing to feel.

I still got over it or concealed it with everything else to forget. I was used to being treated as means to an end since I was born and survived it all. I was not about to let my world crash and burn for a man and some people I lived with. Even then, I didn’t want to return. But if what Bucky said was true, millions of people would die. The Avengers could die and the world needed them. This was bigger than me and everything that had happened with us.

“I have one condition.” My jaw was set and my tone firm, regret already pulsating through me.

“Absolutely not!” Tony’s reply came fast and clashed with a serious “You name it.” coming from Bucky. I looked between them, trying to decide who I wanted to pay attention to first but decide Tony wasn't worth a damn minute of my time. My eyes settled on Bucky’s blue ones, my voice dead serious.

“I don’t ask for trust because I know I will not give any of you the same but I ask to not be doubted,” My voice took a cutting edge but we all ignored it. “I want to be informed of every detail regarding the situation and the mission, just like everyone else. The moment you all know something I don’t. I’m out.” They both knew how serious I was about this. I promised myself I would never subject myself again to what happened two years prior. The feelings of emptiness and low self-esteem I felt were not something I wanted to deal with. Not from people, I swore would never affect me once again. I could very well torture myself but I was not going to let a team led by a buffoon that thought he had me pegged since he saw me make me think I was nothing.

Bucky knew exactly why I asked for this. He knew how I felt and what led to this as he was just as much in the spotlight as I was. I didn’t trust him, not after everything but I knew he wanted to help and right his wrongs so he would keep his word.

“Now wait a minu-“

“You’re right. If you are going to risk your life for us, you have the right to know.” He lowered his gaze. His words felt heavy with something a feeling I didn’t recognize nor wanted to.

“You can’t be serious about this, Cyborg.”

“She’s right, Stark. I’m sure the team will agree.” He looked at Tony sideways, irritation stretched across his face. Bucky’s voice was definitive. The sharp edge in his voice shut Tony up, who rolled his eyes and cursed under his breath. I ignored him as I muttered a quick ‘one minute’ and walked to my room. After changing into a black t-shirt and some jeans, I slid on my leather jacket and put on some boots. A bag of clothes and essentials was made quickly before I stepped out of the room.

When I emerged, Tony was sulking like a five-year-old boy beside Bucky while the man shook his head repeatedly towards him. A sigh escaped Bucky as he pressed his finger to the bridge of his nose. I repressed my urge to laugh at the scene in front of me. Once they saw me, both their face recovered and their postures composed.

“Let’s go.” I said nonchalantly, grabbing my keys.

And just like that, I was walking into the lion’s den once more.

#bucky x female reader #bucky fic #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #james buchanan barnes #the winter soldier #marvel #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fanfiction #marvel fic #james barnes #marvel fanfiction #bucky x oc #romance fanfiction #angst fanfic

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cupidsintern · 3 years

Text

the death of hyacinthus - pt. i

this is my old renaissance au with artist!billy and model!steve so enjoy lol

The light spills out onto the floor before the window, making the worn wood of the floor look bright again, like new. The light doesn't reach Steve though. Billy set up the scene like that on purpose, closer to the center of his studio. No direct light. He wants this to be lit like it's the beginning of twilight. In his head, Hyacinth dies at sunset.

The room is silent, has been for a while, other than birds outside the window, a breeze that made the window tap against itself lightly, and fabric shifting if Steve stirs from where he is at all, draped across this haphazard construction of pillows, blankets, and a bench.

That's the word Billy used; “drape”. When Steve got to the studio Billy was kicking pillows around on his little model platform, trying to get everything set up right, hardly even greeting Steve at all before launching into his explanation of how he wanted Steve to look.

“-and he’s dying, but he’s not dead yet,” Billy walked half a circle around the platform, hands out. “So Apollo would- damn-” A pillow fell over, he pushed it back up. “Would be here. So if you can just sort of drape yourself across right here-”

Steve was stripping off the last of his garments when Billy turned back around.

“Here?” Steve finished kicking his stockings off, crossed to step up onto the platform.

Billy swallowed, looking Steve in the eyes because at least it meant he wouldn't look down, slack jawed. “Yeah, that's- that’s perfect.” Steve was already settling in to sitting down, letting his head fall back against the seat of the bench, throat exposed.

The way he was sitting shifted his weight in his hips more; Billy tried to look critically. Not appreciatively. He shouldn’t be appreciating the son of the nobleman that had decided to be his patron. Not that Steve was even supposed to be modeling for him beyond the two portraits he’d already had done.

“Tip your knee down more,” Billy stepps back, takes in the composition.

Steve drops his knee.

“Turn your head towards me.”

Steve obliges. The line of his nose looks perfect at three quarters.

Billy stepps up to the platform again, pulls some of the fabric forward, lets it fall over Steve's legs more, over his groin- good. Less distracting. More poetic or something- and the line of his thighs beneath the fabric has just the heaviness Billy is looking for. He steps back again.

“What’s the myth again?” Steve’s jaw gains definition when he speaks with his head at this angle.

“The Death of Hyacinthus.”

“I know that part.” Steve rolls his hand a little. “The part before that. How does he die?”

“He- hang on.” Billy steps close again to push things around, make the lines right. “The wind- Zephyr- gets jealous of his beauty. Apollo throws a discus, and Zephyr pushes it off course, so it knocks Hyacinth in the head. Apollo holds him while he dies.” Billy says it all matter-of-factly. He's trying not to get distracted. He picks up Steve's arm to tilt back towards him a little. His skin is warm like the sunlight staining the floor.

“That's sad.” Steve says. His arm feels relaxed in Billy’s grip. “Weren't they close? Apollo and Hyacinth.”

Billy feels a familiar warmth at his neck of this topic. This thing that always comes up when he and Steve are alone. “They were lovers.”

Steve doesn't say anything back to that.

Billy gets the composition mostly how he wants it- and he’ll probably try Steve in a couple different poses, this is only for sketching. He takes ages deciding where to set up to actually draw it- Steve makes fun of him. Billy says he’s not the one naked on a pile of old curtains. That makes Steve laugh. His stomach flexes a little when he laughs.

Billy's glad Steve can be part of his process now.

He gets some general gestures down on paper. He really nails the angle of Steve’s throat- which he's proud of. He needs the arch of the thing to be perfect. And he gets the general idea of Steve's features down quick- he’s drawn Steve's face maybe a thousand times by now. The way his arm falls is tricky- he’ll come back to that in a bit.

“Billy.”

Billy looks up at Steve’s voice. He’s sat up a little, something short of coy in his eyes. “I’m cold.” “You’re cold.” Billy says back to him. Because he never does what Steve implies. Only what Steve says.

“Yeah, like you said- I’m bare ass naked on a pile of curtains.”

“Your calling.”

Steve laughs again. “Do you think we could close the door?”

“We?”

“You. Can you close the door.”

“Who’s the revered artist here?”

“Who’s the patron?”

Billy rolls his eyes, but he drops his chalk into the lip of his easel anyway, walks to pull the door to his studio shut, separating them from the rest of the house. Steve left it open in the first place.

“You’re not my patron.” Billy says when he gets back, picks up to start drawing again.

“I’m close.” Steve only sounds a little superior.

He’s right. He is close to being Billy's patron. He recommended Billy to his family, he talked up Billy’s version of the pieta, he introduced Billy to the Influentials of Florence, got him this nice new studio, set up in one of the family houses. He was only a little superior about it.

Mostly he was nice.

Nice to Billy. Excited about the things he drew, always asking him what he was working on.

Asked to sit for him once, twice, how many more times, he was part of the process now.

This might be what having a muse was, if Billy believed in things like having muses.

Steve scratches the back of his calf with a foot, then sets his legs back down.

“I’m surprised you don’t get bored doing this.” Billy cracks two of the knuckles on his drawing hand, shakes out his wrist. He’s only prying a little.

“I like watching you work,” comes Steve's easy reply.

“Still.” Billy smudges at a stray line with his thumb. “You’re always fidgety at dinners and shit. Not here.”

“Dinners are boring.” Steve sighs.

He had expressed that sentiment before. That he found Billy much more interesting than anything his family ever did. That he’d trade his infinite wealth for the virve Billy so possessed. Only he didn't say it like that. He said “I’d trade all of this shit for whatever makes your art so beautiful.”

And Billy said “You wouldn't want to. Trust me.”

Billy, having seared the image of Steve into his brain by now, was adding more definition in places, really letting his focus slide out of his head.

And it’s quiet for a bit. Billy doesn't notice when the silence breaks- the sound of shifting fabric, bare feet on wood floor-

“Shit, that’s really good.” Steve's voice startles Billy a little, but he doesn’t let it show. Just turns a little abruptly to find Steve leaning over his shoulder.

“Looks just like me.” Steve continued, hovering his fingertips over Billy's rendition of his nose.

“You don’t have to sound so impressed every time.” Billy rolled his eyes, pushing Steve’s hand away.

“Oh, excuse me for showing some enthusiasm.” Steve hummed another laugh, still looking at the paper. He traced a finger absentmindedly down his own flesh-and-blood nose, marveling at the likeness.

Billy couldn't focus enough to continue with Steve so close. Not like he’d never seen Steve in next to nothing before. But this was really and truly nothing. And even naked as the day he was born Steve exuded wealth in just the way he stood. Like clothes were nothing but decoration on something already… beautiful.

“Can you go back to your spot, please?” Billy got out, looking away like he was annoyed.

Steve just smiled at him before padding back to his platform, throwing the fabric back over his legs.

But now the composition was wrong-

“So,” Steve’s voice carried across the sun-soaked chambers. “Why Hyacinth?”

“What do you mean.” Billy was trying desperately to collect his thoughts.

“I mean, he’s dating a god, right? Why him? What's so special about him.”

“He’s beautiful.”

“And?”

“Well, I mean, he’s a Spartan prince, he’s legendary. Apollo doesn't even really pick him. Hyacinth has, like, a bunch of people to choose from. He picks Apollo.”

Billy can’t draw like this, especially since Steve fucked up the composition- probably on purpose.

Billy gets up with an unintentional little huff and gets close to Steve again, has to adjust his legs again, avoid staring at the pinks that dust Steve’s everywhere-

“You draw me a lot.” Steve interrupts Billy’s train of thought.

Billy looks up, holding Steve’s wrist like it was his own. “You sit for me a lot-”

“What's your favorite part to draw?”

Billy’s breathing feels thicker, like his throat is coated in honey, sweet but hard to breathe. “Of you?” “Yeah.”

“Your nose.” Billy says easily, because it's safe to say.

Steve smiles. “You've said that before.”

“It's true.” Billy prepares to turn away again, to tell Steve they should get more done while there's still daylight.

Steve’s fingers hook against the palm of Billy's hand. This is playing with fire.

Steve lifts Billy's hand up, touches it to the bridge of his nose.

He can feel the sharp bone under his forefinger.

“Where else?”

Billy inhales. It's a feat. “Your jaw.”

Steve pulls Billy's hand down his cheek to touch his jawline. They’ve been avoiding this forever,

“And?” Cliche game of cat and mouse. Right now, Billy’s the mouse.

“Your shoulders.” Billy watches Steve drag his hand down his perfect neck to the slope of his perfect shoulders. “Steve.”

“Billy.” Steve mocks Billy’s warning tone just a little. “Come on, what else?”

Billy swallows again. He doesn't respond he just lets his hand wander lower, lower, down his chest, to his stomach-

Billy stops his hand, pushes back against Steve’s. “I’ve never drawn you nude, if that's what you’re implying.”

“Maybe you should.” Steve’s finger’s slide up Billy's forearm to hook under the edge of his rolled up sleeve.

“I’d need a couple different references...” Billy trails off. He knows Steve is about to kiss him.

It’s still delicious when he does. No number of days, weeks, waiting for one of them to make a move, of thinking what that move would be, what it would feel like, would have prepared Billy for the spit-sweet taste of a first kiss in the late afternoon.

i might do a part ii or just leave it like this lol

#harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #steve x billy #billy x steve #harringrove fanfic #harringrove fic #my fic #my writing #its the renaissance au

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notasdriedapricots · 3 years

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Hey everyone! Just a few quick (realistic) reminders to start the week. And you might say "the fuck are you to go around giving advice like what the hell?" and to that I'll say you're totally right. But I've been having what at this point is a shitty month so I just wanted to try to, maybe, make others feel a bit better, at least regarding something I can talk about here. I still have a long way to go, so take it with a grain of salt. When I get into something I like analyzing it, and so here we are. These are all based in my own insecurities and feelings as someone who has been writing for just eight months (so I know fucking nothing about actually writing).

So, under the cut to not be as annoying, again, a few quick (realistic) reminders to start the week if you're… someone who writes:

- Your writing is not as bad as you think it is. It might not be mindblowing, but that's okay. What you see as bad is likely not really "bad" as much as it's "missing"; you have some vague idea of how it could have been better, you see the parts that you feel you half-assed, the parts you "settled for" because you "couldn't come up with something better". The reader doesn't. Writing is a skill, so as long as you keep using it it'll keep improving.

- Your OC is not as boring as you feel it is. It feels that way just because you know everything about them; there's no surprises in what you already know, but remember how you feel every time you come up with a new little canon fact about them? How cool you think it is? How well it suits them? Yeah, that's how other people feel when they learn about what to you is old news. They might be old but that doesn't mean they're boring.

- Your plot has worth. Maybe it's not perfect, it probably isn't, we all struggle with that, but it's not either perfect or shit. There is a middle, and as with your writing you're probably higher up than you think you are. You are telling a story. How many stories about something that happened at the supermarket have you heard throughout your life from different people? They're all people, they all went to a supermarket. Yes, and are all those stories the same? No, because they happened to different people in different days and different supermarkets. You have your own characters, and or your own day, and or your own supermarket.

This next one's especially for me. I hope I start following y own advice someday because it's good

- Focus on the people who encourage you, instead of on the people who don't. This has nothing to do with criticism; criticism should be considered unless it's hateful (not only because fuck people like that but also why would you follow the advice of someone hateful?). I'm just saying, don't give so much weight to the people who don't like your writing; don't let it affect you negatively more than the opinions of people who like what you do affect you positively. I know it can make you doubt yourself when you post something and it gets a certain kind of ignored, but shift focus to the people who cheers you on instead. Please, I beg you.

- If you find that you, yourself, often end up hating what you write, still write it. Write it, post it somewhere, and don't read it again. When you get someone saying that they love it, you'll hate it less. Trust me.

- Ask someone you trust to read over it, if you're doubting. I'm guilty of not doing this, I'll admit that (in my defense, when I started writing I never thought I'd publish it, and when I started publishing I didn't know anyone here. Now I wish I could be ahead enough to ask someone check it out), but do as I say and not as I do. It will calm your anxiety A LOT.

- Whatever comes to mind, write it down. This I do follow myself, and that's why I say it. I have notes that only have two lines of dialogue, or a brief description of someone waking up, or a little piece of narration that came to mind; it doesn't matter that they don't have a place yet, they probably will at some point, somewhere. I'm convinced I'm not special for this to be something that only happens to me, so trust me: sometimes those tiny phrases stand out and become one of your favorite bits. And you'll think "I wrote that with one eye open while I was falling asleep. And it's pretty good"; don't you want that? Would you rather "I thought of a nice little chat the other day but I can't remember it"?

- Maybe slightly contradictory after the last one, find a ritual to write. This is relative to how you typically write and might not apply to you, but it's worth giving it a go. If you can, find a place and make it your writing spot, have a specific playlist that you only use to write, have a cup of tea or coffee or chocolate or whatever you choose with you every time you start to write, pick a time of the day you're usually free at and sit down to write even if at first you don't manage to write anything. I could get more scientific with this, but the idea is: the brain learns. What this does is it cues your brain that "It's time to write!" and the more consistent you are the more used to it your brain will be and the less effort it'll require for you to get in the mood for writing. You'll get less anxious if you don't have much free time by knowing you have a designated period, and will help you focus. If you have a lot of free time it will stop you from going in and out of your doc constantly for hours while not doing anything else because you're "writing right now". This is not incompatible with the previous point: here is where you find a place for and/or flesh out those little ideas you put down so far.

These are the ones I can think of right now, but please add your own or argue any and all points if you want. Have a nice week!

#sofi rambles #these are really little and simple but whatever #maybe someone finds some use for it #it is currently 2 am #so I might wake up to this thinking it's dumb and silly and useless but then again I might not #if anything it's a self-reminder #writing

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maldito-arbol · 3 years

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Let’s talk about the GP zodiacs (Part 2)

HOLSY HSIT I LOVE THE GP KIDS SO MUCH AND THEIR SIGNS ARE SO INTERESTING

Thank u to puff-poff for shooting me with an ask about the gp kids, I think our brains just assimilated

One more note: I should’ve mentioned this in my last post but compatibility between signs doesn’t only apply to romantic relationships, it applies to any kind of relationship like friendships, family relations, etc. It’s just that when it comes to more platonic relationships, wholly incompatible signs are more likely to be able to work something out together. As an example, I’m a Gemini, and I’m about 300% certain I could never ever in my life date a Pisces, but I do have a few Pisces friends that I get along well enough with.

Okay same drill—sign, element, infodump, GO

Violet

Birthdate: June 12th

Sign: Gemini

Element: Air

Overview: SQUEALS GUYS ITS VIOLET MY BELOVED. WE’RE BOTH GEMINIS THEREFORE WE ARE THE SAME PERSON. I’m kidding but no, Violet being a Gemini makes her 100x easier to project onto. So I mentioned before that Air signs are the least in tune with their emotions, are the thinkers before they act, are horribly indecisive, and these very much apply to Geminis as well. However, the most iconic trait of a Gemini is the ability to switch personalities at the drop of a hat whenever it services the group of people they’re in—what most people call the ‘two-faced’ part of Geminis. Hey, I promise you that being two-faced is actually a pretty cool and useful asset when in the hands of a decent human being. It means we get along well with a lot of different people, and if we don’t, we can act like we do as if it’s nothing. This asset, however, can turn into a curse of sorts in that a lot of us have...NO IDEA what our actual personality is. We reshape and remold ourselves and copy traits from other signs to fit in so much that we lose sight of who we are as an individual, and therefore we have a very hard time figuring out what we truly want. This is where the indecisiveness comes into play—ask a Gemini what they want for lunch and you’ll get a “what? Huh? Oh, you pick. I’m fine with whatever.” I know Geminis best because I am one, pls forgive me for rambling so much more about them than the other signssss.

Okay so first of all, let’s talk about Violet adapting to other characters to ‘fit in’. It’s not as obvious because Violet DOES seem to have one very fixed personality, but Violet prefers to speak through actions rather than words, so I would call her following Emma to help the children at GP a Gemini move. She could’ve simply dragged her to Lucas—she’s probably strong enough to do so, but instead she decided to go along with her. This isn’t to say there’s no pushback of course, as Air signs Geminis aren’t idiots, so they’ll often try to reason with others (particularly fire signs cough cough) to try to bring logic and critical thinking into the conversation. However, when that fails, they can still be counted on to support their friends even if they disagree. This is why Geminis and Leos are soulmates you heard it here, the stars said Violemma is the way. BUT ALSO CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW VIOLET’S THE ONE ADAM LISTENS TO DURING THE LEUVIS BATTLE. YOU WANNA TALK ABOUT BEING ABLE TO GET ALONG WITH A LOT OF PEOPLE, THERE YOU GO.

Anyway it’s also very much worth noting that while Violet can seem very harsh at times (bc Geminis will put you in your PLACE), bringing her logical kind of advice into conversations can be a very helpful comforter.

On another note this scene is so gay?

Compatibility and ships: hellooooooo Air sign Violet you are compatible with other Air signs (Aquarius, Libra, and Gemini) as well as Fire signs (Leo, Sagittarius, and Aries). Usually you’ll see Aquarius and Sagittarius as the most compatible with Geminis but I disagree with that because I have never met a Sagittarius I like so I’m still pointing fervently at Leos and the fact that Emma is a Leo. Listen. Violemma is the way. I am determined to convert all of you to Violemma if it’s the last thing I do. Geminis simply cannot help themselves around Leos they fall like a fucking anvil for that bright, golden-hearted dumbass energy. If there’s any Leos in the tpn fandom let me know I might just propose to you.

Oliver

Birthdate: October 25th

Sign: Scorpio

Element: Water

Overview: the first time I looked up Oliver’s birthday I went “Scorpio???? REALLY????” but then this is another case where the more I think about it, it does indeed make sense. If Leos are the natural leaders of the Fire signs, then Scorpios are the natural leaders of the Water signs. Where Cancers and Pisces will often lose themselves to their emotions, Scorpios have a very strong handle on them. I mentioned before that Water signs are at the highest emotional level, but Scorpios are a bit of an interesting case because you oftentimes won’t even notice that they’re very emotional people. They try to act like Air signs in that way, but their true colors are always there, waiting to be coaxed out.

For Oliver, you can clearly tell that his emotional bond with his friends and especially with Lucas is very high—but even so, he doesn’t let his emotions cloud his judgment or his ability to adapt to the situation at hand. Where earth signs are very fixed and difficult to move, water signs are always moving and changing to find solutions best suited for new circumstances. The best example I can give is the part where the music plays early, and despite internally panicking about it, Oliver is the one who naturally steps up to calm everyone down.

Scorpios are great at handling others’ emotions as well as their own, which makes them marvelously empathetic leaders. We stan.

Compatibility and ships: as a Water sign, Oliver is compatible with other Water signs (Cancer, Pisces, and Scorpio) as well as Earth signs (Taurus, Virgo, and Capricorn) so speaking broadly that makes him compatible with Pepe (a Pisces) and Zack (a Cancer) but narrowing it down, Scorpios are usually best with Tauruses and Cancers. Idk if I’m the only one who ships Oliver with Pepe but I know there’s a few people who ship him with Zack—so congrats to you guys, you won the stars’ approval.

Lucas

Birthdate: November 28th

Sign: Sagittarius

Element: Fire

Overview: yall,,,, when I found out Lucas was a Saggy Titty I legitimately guffawed out loud. Lucas and Sagittarius is so funny.... because it’s so wrong. Saggy Titties are the definition of chaos, they’re brazen, impulsive, and constantly changing. Like think of a frat boy in a house full of beer and pool tables and hot girls and you get Sagittarius. This is why I have never met a Sagittarius I like—because they have frat boy energy, and even non-male Sagittariuses require wayyy too much energy for me to handle. I guess the only time Lucas really does act like a Sagittarius is in his childhood with Yuugo, and the way he’s a lot bolder and outgoing versus the quieter older Lucas we have now.

It is important to note that Lucas has been through a lot of trauma and lost a lot of comrades which could very well change the a person’s entire outlook and turn their personality 180 degrees—that could be a large factor, although on the flip side, Yuugo still fits his Capricorn sign even after going through what he’s been through. Different events affect different people differently. Lucas was most likely knocked entirely off his Sagittarius high-horse very quickly when he arrived in Goldy Pond. But if I had no prior knowledge of who he was beforehand, I very well might’ve pegged him a Leo like Emma or even another subtle Aries like Norman. So yes, he does indeed have fire energy, it’s just generally very lackluster and farrrr away from Sagittarius’ level.

Compatibility and ships: okay so I know the only Lucas ship with any weight to it in this fandom is Yuucas, and here’s the thing,,, A Sagittarius and Capricorn combo is the most horrifying fucking couple imaginable and I’m stan so hard. Realistically speaking, your Capricorns would try to put a leash on their Sagittariuses because man. I forgot to mention how childish Sagittariuses can be (though the frat boy comparison should’ve been a clue), and holy shit that poor Capricorn is gonna get ripped to shreds by their Sagittarius. Imagine like a super pompous cowboy trying to ride a furious bull that’s trying to buck him off like there’s no tomorrow. Capricorns are people who want complete control over themselves and their partners, while Sagittariuses,, Saggy Titties just want to see the world burn. Put them together and you could probably cause the End Times Apocalypse. But you know what? Good for them. I think Yuugo and Lucas love each other enough that the toxicity that comes with typical pairups with these two signs is about nonexistent between them. But I fully believe they could still destroy an entire planet and that’s valid of them to do so. Anyway moving on!

you wanna talk about another Sagittarius that makes absolutely no sense?

Paula

Birthdate: December 9th

Sign: Sagittarius

Element: Fire

Overview: My authors I am begging you, stop putting character birthdays in the Sagittarius zone you clearly don’t know what a Sagittarius is.

Since I refuse to acknowledge Paula as a Sagittarius, let’s talk about what sign she actually acts like because I said so. Paula’s a Virgo. Fight me Shirai. (Also im sus that shirai is virgophobic because where the fuck are my virgos. There’s like zero major characters that are virgos, and the characters that ARE don’t even act like virgos. I’m coming for your small intestine Shirai) so as earth signs, virgos are generally pretty resourceful and of course level-headed. They’re kinda shy and reserved, but they’re also very hard workers you can count on when you need to get a job done. Nary will you find a Virgo that procrastinates or attempts to weasel their way out of a mission they’ve been given. The unmovable earth in virgos shows through in how committed they are, and we can see all these traits in Paula. Though she’s a quieter member of the GP resistance, you can tell just how much of an asset she is to them. She doesn’t run, doesn’t lose her cool, and she’s good at pointing out important details.

Pls let me decide your characters’ birthdays for you Shirai I promise I am good at it.

Compatibility and ships: I guess, astrologically speaking, as a Sagittarius, Paula does fit pretty well with Sonya because she’s a Gemini. I actually know next to nothing about Paula ships but I do know she’s lesbian and her and Sonya are cute but I also ship her with Barbara because reasons don’t ask questions I WILL bite you anyway they’re compatible too because barb’s also a Gemini.

Lot of Geminis, don’t you think? Yes I do. Let’s talk about them.

Sonya and Sandy

Birthdates: June 3rd and May 22nd respectively

Signs: Gemini

Element: Air

Overview: these two are what I call the gemini twins bECAUSE THEYRE ALWAYS HANGING OUT AND ITS SO TRUE GEMINIS LOVE EACH OTHER BUT ALSO ITS SO WEIRD THAT WE GET ALONG. imagine like two of those one way mirrors facing each other where it just goes on and on and on for infinite mirror and that’s what two Geminis hanging out is like. Look, they’re literally thinking the same thing and it’s so great

Anyway there isn’t a whole lot of Sandy and Sonya content to go off of in the first place, but them being Geminis seems reasonable to me—at the very least they are indeed meant to get along well and they’re so in sync I could cry. Plus they’re pretty intuitive and able to think right on the spot as they’re facing Nous and Nouma (at least at first) My man Shirai also.. really likes Geminis for some reason because they keep popping up. So instead of one Spider-Man meme it looks more like this,

Compatibility and ships: not gonna dwell too long on this section because from previous ones you may already recall they’re compatible with each other and I guess with Paula as well as I must begrudgingly accept the fact that shes canonically a Sagittarius.

Pepe

Birthdate: February 19th

Sign: Pisces

Element: Water

Overview: so I mentioned before that water signs are at about the highest emotion level, which makes Pisces a very sensitive group like Cancers. But Pisces in general are known for being the kindest and most accepting people as well, which means they’re able to make a lot of friends very easily. They’re basically that one person you sat next to in class who started a conversation with you just to be nice. Now again, there’s not a whole lot of Pepe content to go off of, but we can tell he’s kind and loving to his friends and the other kids in GP. One thing I can mention is that Pisces usually are the one of the nosiest of the signs, and they get very bothered by lies and secrets (this is true for a lot of water signs, but Pisces are the worst in my experience) so we got this single piece that may have a little bit of the Pisces in Pepe showing:

Compatibility and ships: So as a Pisces, Pepe is only compatible with Oliver and Zack considering they’re also water signs. Everyone else is Fire and Air, funnily enough, but the Pepe ships with those two are super cute I think so it’s ok.

Zack

Birthdate: July 7th

Sign: Cancer

Element: Water

Overview: so do I think Zack fits his sign? Yes, in a way I do. I already went into Cancers when I explained Don, so quick recap: Cancers are some of the most sensitive and empathetic, so their loyalty to their loved ones is pretty close to on-par with an Aries. And while Zack isn’t as outwardly emotional as someone like Don, the Cancer in him shows up well in that he’s constantly taking extremely difficult missions he doesn’t want his friends to risk, and he shrugs off any injury to himself.

This might just be a me thing but almost every Cancer I’ve met has a habit of doing That. I am so concerned for their safety. I guess though, if I hadn’t known his sign beforehand, I 100% would’ve pegged him an Aries.

Compatibility and ships: I already went over this with Pepe, but Zack is compatible with Pepe and Oliver. Y’all ok listen to me. OT3. Make it happen. Between them they have every sign in the element of water. They’d be unstoppable.

Gillian

Birthdate: September 30th

Sign: Libra

Element: Air

Overview: here’s a fun one. So as I previously stated, air signs are usually out of tune with their emotions, but where that causes Aquariuses and Geminis to repress or hide them, Libras,,,, just dump them everywhere. Listen I know Libras are supposed to be the sign of the balance scales and they have a thing about the world being perfectly balanced which makes them more prone to revenge bUT ALSO. MY first and foremost takeaway from Libras is that they all suffer from Rich Bitch syndrome, in which they obsess over material items and every Libra has a thing about cute girly stuff change my mind. HOWEVER, they’re often very chaotic as well, the kinda Sagittarius of the Air signs. So like a super cute and seemingly fun girl who will probably murder you in your sleep.

I’m sorry I can’t take it I’ve been laughing at this for the past fifteen minutes it’s too funny. Anyway, Gillian’s Rich Bitch Syndrome appears through her fashion statement. Her PINS. omg. Gillian your Libra is showing.

Compatibility and ships: as a Libra Gillian is compatible with other Air signs (Aquarius, Gemini, Libra) as well as Fire signs (Aries, Sagittarius, Leo) but she’s most compatible with Aries and Sagittarius so—— Paula yes, but also Nigel because he’s an Aries! Speaking of Nigel,

Nigel

Birthdate: March 27th

Sign: Aries

Element: Fire

Overview: Aries Nigel doesn’t come as a surprise, let’s be real here. I delved into Aries before with Norman, so just as a recap: Aries are so intensely loyal to the ones they love and would do absolutely anything for them even at the cost of their lives, and this can make them prone to outbursts of anger and/or impulsivity. Here’s your one image of Aries Nigel, I don’t even have to explain:

Compatibility and ships: so I already said this but Nigel is at his most compatible with Gillian. Are there other Nigel ships?? Pls let me know I’m very curious.

Aw, it’s over now :(

I loved talking about the GP kids they fill the void in my heart. Now to move onto talking about the demons because the silliest idiot requested it and I am beyond ecstatic to spout pure headcanon bullshit. If you’re feelin excited then feel free to keep sending characters my way I will be happy to ramble about their canon zodiac or my headcanon for their zodiac

Edit: i forgot to link part 1 to anyone who wants it and doesn’t want to stalk my profile to find it

#the promised neverland #yakusoku no neverland #tpn analysis #tpn #goldy pond #you have no idea the trouble tumblr put me through attempting to put only ten images in this giant post #fuck u tumbley for having a limit #but i also took the extra effort to make unnecessary memes so that ones on me #hope y’all like #ugh this made me think about GP ships and how much i wanna draw them #especially the new OT3 I can hyperfixate on #also can we talk about Sagittarius erasure in media #the only Sagittarius I know who actually acts like a Sagittarius in his respective show is Shou from mp100 #but he’s also one of my favorites so I guess not all sagittariuses (derogatory)#what was i talking about #tpn manga spoilers #mal rants #man I wanted to wait a little longer to post this but I’m literally on the brink of passing out I’m so tired #so here ya go take it #idk if I’ve made errors I was like half-awake when I proofread it #but anyway g’night I’m gonna go into a coma

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