#and how in some ways i feel some details about daily life suit me better here where i live now

[50calmadeuce]

Ch. 19: A Better Offer

Warning: Mention of miscarriage. Some chapters have sex.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Top Gun: Maverick world, trademarked by Paramount Pictures Corporation. I do not claim ownership of the characters and the world that I am borrowing.

The story and situation I am creating are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to official story canon. This work is for entertainment only and is not a part of the storyline.

I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story, but I do hope it gives you happy thoughts.

These stories are my own, so please do not take them and use them for yourself without my permission. If you see them somewhere else, please let me know. :)

The following morning found yourself in front of the living room window, absorbing the tranquil beauty of the sunrise while Jake showered. You wore lounge wear and with a freshly brewed pot of coffee prepared, you cradled a cup in your hands, savoring the warmth and aroma. The sound of the shower running and the peaceful sunrise offered a moment of calm reflection as you thought about last night and the last 4 years of your "relationship" with Jake.

As the first rays of sunlight painted the sky in shades of orange and pink, your thoughts meandered through the complexity of emotions and events in the last week and a half that had brought you to this moment. Yet, despite the challenges, there was a resilience to your bond with Jake, a tether that, although stretched, had never broken.

You took a sip of your coffee, the rich flavor grounding you in the present. The sound of the water in the shower ceased, signaling Jake's imminent appearance soon.

You realized that the path forward wasn't about erasing the past but rather about learning from it. It was about acknowledging the pain and the mistakes, but also the love that had endured through it all. The challenge would be to integrate your lives in a way that respected both your independence and your unity as a couple.

As you dwelled on the intimacy of last night, its significance began to resonate even more profoundly. You were always aware that Jake loved with intensity, but the depth of his affection and vulnerability revealed in those moments gave you a new understanding of just how profound his love truly was. This realization highlighted a powerful commonality between you two: both of you loved deeply, with a passion and intensity that was a foundational pillar of your relationship.

Jake came out of the bedroom, clad in his flight suit, ready for the day. "That coffee smells wonderful," he commented, making his way towards the coffee pot.

"There's a travel mug I got for you. It's in the cabinet," you replied, pointing him towards the new purchase designed to keep his coffee warm on the go.

He opened the cabinet, his eyes quickly finding the U.S. Navy travel mug. Setting it on the counter, he filled it with the freshly brewed coffee. "Thanks, darlin'," he said, appreciation evident in his voice.

You heard the sound of the cup being sealed and then his footsteps approaching. Soon, he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you gently into his embrace, and planted a kiss on your cheek.

"Morning," he greeted you warmly, his voice close and affectionate.

"Good morning," you responded, leaning into his embrace, feeling the solidity and warmth of him grounding you further. The simplicity of the gesture, the comfort of his proximity—it was these small moments that you realized you had missed the most during the years of separation and sporadic communication.

Turning slightly within the circle of his arm, you faced him, looking up into his eyes. "Did you sleep well?" you asked, genuinely interested in even the smallest details of his existence. These were the daily intricacies you had been absent from, the minutiae that, when woven together, formed the fabric of a shared life.

He grinned, a look of genuine contentment on his face. "I did. Haven't slept that good since we were in Wisconsin or at my parent's house."

His presence, the smell of coffee mingling with the fresh scent of his shower, created a cozy, domestic scene that you wanted to etch into your memory. It was a stark contrast to the turbulent emotions and the vast distances that had characterized much of your marriage. But here, in this moment, with the morning light casting a gentle glow around you, there was a sense of peace, a feeling that, perhaps, everything could indeed be alright.

"And you?" he inquired, turning his attention to how you slept.

You leaned further into his embrace, comforted by his presence. "Wonderfully. Thank you for asking," you replied, appreciating his concern. You sensed him take another sip of his coffee, the warmth of the moment shared between you two.

"What are your plans for today?" he inquired, showing interest in how you'd be spending your day.

"I'm going to check on some emails and then go from there. Do you need me to drive you to work?" you offered, ready to assist him with his commute if necessary.

"No. Coyote is on his way," he replied, indicating that arrangements had already been made for his transportation.

At that moment, a knock sounded at the door. Jake gently turned you to face him. "That's Coyote," he said, giving you a kiss. "I love you." He then moved to answer the door.

"I love you too," you called after him, your words carrying the weight of your feelings.

Coyote entered. "Morning, Y/N."

"Morning, Coyote. You two have a good day," you said, offering them both a smile and well wishes for the day ahead.

"We will," they assured you together, their voices blending in harmony as they exited, the door closing softly behind them.

You pivoted back towards the window, immersing yourself once again in the tranquil beauty of the sunrise. The serene colors of dawn painted the sky, providing a peaceful backdrop as you took a moment to enjoy the quiet morning.

After your shower, you settled at the kitchen table, your laptop open in front of you. You took a sip of your coffee, enjoying the quiet of the morning when your phone dinged, breaking the silence. Reaching for it, you saw a text message from Dr. Colson on the screen. He was asking if you could get in touch with him.

You quickly texted him back, agreeing to initiate a video call, then placed your phone down on the table. Switching to your laptop, you initiated the call to Dr. Colson.

"Y/N! How are you?" Dr. Colson greeted enthusiastically as he accepted the call, his face appearing on your screen.

"Hi, Jason. I'm doing fine," you responded, offering a smile through the screen.

Jason glanced around, noticing the difference in your background. "You're not in your office?"

"No. I'm actually in San Diego," you explained, watching his reaction.

"San Diego?" Jason echoed, surprise evident in his voice.

"Yeah, Jake got called back for a mission and he leaves this Friday," you explained.

Dr. Colson leaned back in his chair, the surprise morphing into understanding as he processed your news. "Ah, I see. That must be quite the adjustment for both of you," he commented thoughtfully. "How are you handling it?"

You paused for a moment, considering how much to share. "It's been… challenging," you admitted. "But we're trying to make the most of the time we have before he leaves."

Jason nodded sympathetically, understanding the complexity of your situation. He then shifted his focus, leaning in slightly. "Anyways, I wanted to talk to you about that Wyoming project."

"Oh, yes!" you responded, your interest piqued.

"Are you still interested?" he asked, a hint of hope in his tone.

"I would love to, but I need to check with my work on when I can do it," you admitted, the prospect exciting yet challenging.

"Dr. Stryker will, of course, be in charge of it again," Jason mentioned, observing your reaction closely.

You shrugged. "That's fine," you replied, your tone neutral.

Dr. Colson studied you for a moment. "Y/N. Did something happen during the first book writing? I've known you for a while now, and I consider you a good friend." His concern was genuine, hinting at the depth of your relationship beyond professional boundaries.

You sighed, a weight seemingly pressing on your shoulders as you prepared to share. "While in Wyoming, Dr. Stryker and I became friends. Pretty close friends, actually. He knew about Jake and everything I was going through, but he kind of took it the wrong way. I told him I just wanted to be friends."

The vulnerability in your voice conveyed the complexity of the situation, hinting at the discomfort and misunderstanding that had arisen from the friendship.

"The day we were at your office before the conference, he told me he still had feelings for me and that he still thought about me. I told him I didn't."

"Y/N. Why didn't you say something?" Jason's voice carried a mix of concern and surprise, reflecting his wish that you had confided in him sooner about the discomfort and tension you were experiencing.

"I was already dealing with enough; I didn't want to put that on someone else, and I left to go back home anyways." Your response highlighted a desire to manage your burdens independently, avoiding adding any stress or complications to others' lives, despite the personal challenges you were facing.

"Well, then how about something different?" Jason suggested, his tone changing, hinting at a new possibility.

You looked at him, intrigued by the shift in the conversation.

"A new grant project just came across my desk specifically asking for you."

Puzzled, you looked at him. "For me? But I don't even work for Texas A&M."

"Well, you made a really good impression on someone here at the conference." Jason's words implied that your expertise and demeanor had caught the attention of influential individuals, opening up unexpected opportunities.

"They want you to be in charge of the livestock study in the upper half of Wisconsin, so you can actually manage this project from home." Jason's announcement revealed an exciting opportunity that not only recognized your capabilities but also accommodated your personal circumstances, allowing you to contribute significantly while remaining in your own environment.

Your eyebrows rose in surprise, processing the unexpected turn the conversation had taken. "That's…wow, Jason. I'm honored they'd consider me for such a project, especially given my current commitments and location. But how did this come about?"

Jason leaned back, a grin playing at the corners of his mouth. "It seems your work on the previous project, your book, and your presentation here have made quite the impression. Plus, your approach to integrating practical experience with academic research caught someone's eye. They're looking for someone with your unique blend of skills to lead this study."

The possibility excited you, offering a new avenue to apply your expertise while potentially opening doors for future collaborations and projects. "And I'd be able to manage this remotely, from Wisconsin?"

"Exactly," Jason confirmed. "They're looking for someone who understands the local environment, livestock management practices, and has a strong research background. You'd be coordinating with a team, but the bulk of the project management can be done from wherever you're most comfortable."

Taking a moment to ponder the offer, you realized the potential impact this project could have on your career and personal goals. It was a chance to delve into a subject you were passionate about while also providing the flexibility you needed to maintain your commitments to Jake and your home life.

"Jason, this sounds like an incredible opportunity. I'm definitely interested. What are the next steps? How do I find out more about the project specifics and expectations?"

"We can set up a meeting with the project sponsors and the main stakeholders at Texas A&M. They're eager to discuss the project with you, go over the goals, and see how you envision leading this study. I'll coordinate with them to find a time that works for everyone."

"Thank you, Jason. Really, I appreciate you bringing this opportunity to me. Let's set up that meeting some time next week. I'm eager to learn more and see how I can contribute to the success of the project."

"Sounds like a plan. I'll touch base with you this weekend?"

"Yeah, that should work. If anything comes up on my end, I'll let you know."

"Sounds good. And tell Jake I said hi."

"I will. Thanks again, Jason." You ended the call, feeling a mix of anticipation for the new project and gratitude for the unexpected support.

"So, how did you end up with someone as amazing as Y/N?" Phoenix inquired of Jake as they exited the classroom. "She just seems way beyond your usual catch."

Jake quirked an eyebrow in response. "And what expertise do you have on the kind of women I'm interested in?"

Phoenix shrugged, her expression transforming into a teasing smile. "Could be your charm at work."

Jake glanced at her, slightly amused. "That's my piloting skills you're thinking of, not my romantic life."

Phoenix chuckled, shaking her head. "Fair point. But seriously, there must be something. Y/N is impressive. How'd you convince her to stick around with a daredevil like you?"

"It's all about that Hangman charm, Phoenix," he declared with a confident smirk.

Phoenix rolled her eyes again, her tone laced with mock annoyance. "To me, it comes off more as an irritation, but sure, keep seeing it your way."

"There's no need to imagine anything, Phoenix. I'm married to an incredible woman."

"I won't argue with that. I'm just curious how you managed to win over such an amazing woman."

Jake's laughter filled the air, a testament to the comfortable camaraderie between them, even amidst the teasing. "Like I've been telling you, it's all down to the Hangman charm."

Phoenix simply shook her head, amusement dancing in her eyes. "You're an idiot."

You were wrapping up with your final email of the day when the sound of the apartment door swinging open broke the silence. Jake stepped inside, greeting you with a warm, "Hey, darlin'," as he shut the door behind him and made his way over to you.He planted a quick kiss on your lips. "How was your day?" he inquired, his face lighting up with a broad smile.

You knew your husband too well and wondered why he was so happy. "Actually, my day was really good. Should I be concerned that you're so happy?"

"Nope," he responded, with an air of casual nonchalance and then looked you up and down. "You didn't get dressed today?"

You shrugged, slightly puzzled. "Why would I be? I just went through emails all day. Didn't even step out."

"Find anything positive?" he inquired, heading towards the fridge to fetch a beer.

"Actually, yes. Do you recall the Wyoming project Dr. Stryker offered me to collaborate on?"

You noticed Jake's body stiffen at the mention of the name. "Yeah," he replied, as he grabbed a bottle opener and opened his beer. He then slowly started walked towards you.

"I'm not going to take it. I talked with Jason about what happened the last time."

"But, Y/N, wasn't that what you were aiming for?" He asked, settling into the chair opposite you.

"Yes, it was. But I've been offered a grant for a different project closer to home. It allows me to work remotely while still fulfilling my responsibilities."

Jake's eyes widened in surprise. "Really?"

"Yes, I'm planning to discuss the details with Jason next week, but from what I've heard so far, everything sounds ideal."

Jake closed his eyes, his face breaking into a contented grin.

Observing him, you ventured, "You didn't really want me to take that job in Wyoming, did you?"

He opened his eyes, meeting your gaze. "We're still committed to being honest with each other, right?"

You shot him a knowing look.

"Okay, I'll take that as a confirmation. But to answer your question, yes, I was secretly hoping you'd turn down that one."

Your expression softened at his admission, understanding the complexity of emotions that must have been swirling within him. "It's because of Dorian, isn't it?"

He paused to take a sip of his beer. "I cannot confirm or deny that statement."

You shut your laptop, signaling the end of that conversation thread. "Don't worry about it. I had my reservations too."

"So, what's the project about?"

"From what I've gathered, it's a study on livestock. I'll probably have a clearer picture after my discussion with Jason next week."

Jake let out a sigh. "You know, my deployment is just a few days away. When we first got married, leaving didn't seem as tough. Why does it feel so different this time?"

"I believe last time, we hadn't fully grasped the impact of loss on one another. Now that we understand, our relationship has evolved. Our love never waned, but we've had to learn how to heal together this past week and a half." Reaching out, you took his hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

"You know, Phoenix was wondering how I managed to end up with someone as incredible as you. Now, she's got me asking myself the same question."

You couldn't help but smile at his words, feeling a mix of warmth and amusement. "Was she now?" you asked, your tone light, teasing. "Well, it's quite simple, really. You charmed me with your undeniable charm."

"See! That's exactly what I told her!"

Jake’s response, laced with a playful pride, made you laugh. "Oh, is that so? Well, it must be true then," you played along, keeping the mood light and affectionate. "But in all honesty, Jake, it wasn't just the charm," you added, capturing his gaze with a look of sincerity. "It was your heart, your strength, and how you make me feel safe and loved. Those are the things that truly won me over."

He listened intently, his playful demeanor softening into one of warmth and affection. "I guess I'm just lucky then, to have found someone who sees me for more than just the pilot or the charm."

"And let's not forget to mention the cockiness and stubbornness," you added playfully.

Jake chuckled, the sound rich and full of affection. "Ah, yes, how could I forget those charming qualities?" he replied, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "They're part of the complete package, after all."

"You know, it's those very traits that somehow make you even more endearing to me," you confessed, a smile playing on your lips. "They remind me of your determination and passion, even if they do drive me up the wall sometimes."

He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle. "Well, I suppose it's a good thing they work in my favor then. And just for the record, your patience and understanding with my less-than-perfect traits? That's part of what makes you so incredible to me." He cupped your face in his hands, and you closed your eyes, basking in the gentle warmth.

The moment stretched out, a small island of peace in the midst of life's relentless pace. His hands, strong yet so gentle, framed your face, and you could feel the weight of his affection, heavy and tangible in the air between you. When you opened your eyes, it was to find his gaze fixed on you, filled with an emotion so profound that it seemed to momentarily pause the world around you.

"Jake," you whispered, your voice carrying a mixture of love, gratitude, and a hint of the inevitable sadness that the thought of his departure brought. "I just want you to know... no matter where you are, or what happens, you're always with me. Right here." You placed your hand over your heart, the gesture simple but laden with meaning.

"And you're with me," he murmured back. "You make me a better man, Y/N. I carry your love with me, no matter where I go. It's what keeps me grounded, what gives me the strength to come back."

His words, so full of emotion and sincerity, resonated deep within you, wrapping around your heart like a comforting embrace. It was a powerful reminder of the strength of your connection, a bond that distance and time could not weaken.

In that moment, the world seemed to stand still, allowing you both to bask in the quiet strength of your love. It was a love that had grown and deepened through challenges and triumphs, a love that was resilient and enduring.

As you both lingered in the warmth of the moment, you realized that this was the essence of what it meant to truly be with someone. It wasn't just about the physical presence; it was about knowing that you carried a piece of each other within your hearts, no matter where life took you.

With a tender smile, you reached up, tracing the lines of his face with a gentle touch, memorizing every detail. "I'll be here, Jake. Holding down the fort, and counting the days until you return. You have my heart, always."

He leaned into your touch, his eyes reflecting the same depth of feeling. "And you have mine, Y/N. Always."

"It's going to be different this time, Jake."

"It will be," he concurred.

Tags: @buckysteveloki-me @bellyliveslife @tgmreader @callsign-barbell @86laura11 @dizzybee03 @kmc1989 @guacam011y @nerdgirljen @hookslove1592 @dempy @djs8891

[yumedoca]

Are your opinions on UY characters that dont get the spotlight often, like nurse sakura, cherry, kotasu cat, benten or oyuki, ifntheres one i missed pls tell me i love hearing your analysis

Hai there, hope you're doing great!!

Sorry this is a bit late, I had some events to attend the past few days..! And thanks!! It makes me happy to hear that you like my rambling :)

As for my thoughts on the other characters, I love most of them actually!! I love love love Sakura!!! I especially love how well her character is structured: through design, through her backstory, through daily life and relations and even how well her name suits her lmao. I really like how she has a background where she was really sick as a child (till we meet her), and how her being a miko, nurse and counsellor (she has three fucking jobs and I love it) has her help others since she knows how it's like to have problems (physically or psychologically). Sakura counselling might be my favorite bit though, just seeing how she helps guide mostly the students is really nice and I wish it was appreciated more. And don't get me started on how she is the perfect straight man to the craziness of the others. She was part of the craziness at first (from her intro to her earliest nurse days, Ataru straight manned instead), but it seemed like RT thought Sakura straight manning was much better while Ataru was cemented as the funny man in their dynamic and it suits them so well. The sane Sakura having to deal with everyone's BS (esp Ataru's) is my favourite thing lol. I also really like her relationship with Tsubame, him being the dumb to her smarts.(The remake plays down Tsubame's idiocy btw and it disappoints me so so much) They're that one couple we all ship without knowing it lmao. The chapters which focus on them are really nice, esp that one with the ghost girl who interfered with them and Sakura got super jealous lmao, it we interesting side to see from her and it was really fun :)

Oh shit, I rambled so much about Sakura, I forgor this ask wasn't just about her, I'm so sorry lmao, she is in my top three UY gals for a reason XD

I think up next in UY blorboism to me (who aren't main characters) would be Asuka. Idk, I just love her, she is so cute and so silly. I think what put her in the blorbo category specifically were these panels: one where Asuka made her own armor from a military tank or something idk and she looked so cute while wearing it!!!! And the second is from the arc where Asuka goes to school and she wears a pair of broken glasses in the final panel of the arc which looks super funny and silly XD

Asides from that, I love her voices, both of them!! They sound so soft and sweet!! And her shtick is very entertaining and chaotic, I love all her chapters!!

I think up next in terms underrated characters I love would be Benten and Oyuki. They both have personalities which bounce off well on other characters and especially each other. They're like my #1 Yuri ship in the series, but even in a platonic sense, they're dynamic is really good!! I need to draw them more, lol.

That's it for characters who I feel are widely underrated.. this post would be even longer if I talk about everyone in detail so I'll just speedrun my thoughts on the ones you mentioned plus a few others...

Ran and Ryu are two characters who I feel are really popular which is why I didn't mention them above. Ran's bipolar nature is so good and funny while her growing understanding and reconciling with Lum slowly is really sweet. Ryu is one of those characters who I wish was treated better because I feel like she deserves everything she wanted but her stupid father comes in the way. Ryunosuke's character is one of those things I wished was done better. Give her all the sailor suits, bras, swimsuits, skirts, etc. she wants!!

Cherry is really funny, like in a way he's basically Ryunosuke's dad but done so much better. The amount of moments where I've wheezed laughing cause of him is way too many too count. I like Kotatsu neko, he's cute and it's funny how he's one of the strongest characters!! Ryoko is another one I like because of how insane she is lmao and Inaba is so so sweet!! Meanwhile, Rei is hilarious and his cow form is so silly XD

I also really like Rupa and Carla too, Idk, the way they're supposed to mirror AtaLum and their crazy dynamic captivates me.

And I guess I'll stop here! There are others, but this is already super long so I'll end it here!!

[rayonsfeminins]

Importance of Visualization

A good start is to prepare yourself using visualization.

Visualization is a method of imagining a desired outcome or helping your imagination to conceive better ideas or solutions for your life.

Some people call this the law of attraction.

“What the mind can conceive and believe, it can achieve,” says Napoleon Hill,

And thoughts are things.

Before embarking on this method, ask yourself:

What do you want?

“The indispensable first step to getting the things you want out of life is this: decide what you want.”- Ben Stein

Try to translate that into visuals. Keep a journal or scrapbook of all the wonderful things you want to be or want. Use things as representations or symbols to remind yourself of what you want. These can serve as daily reminders and soon it will be ingrained in your subconscious, and it will steer you in the right direction.

People have been using this method for years.

Jim Carey and Tom Cruise both wrote a cheque to themselves and kept it in their wallets before making it big in Hollywood. One other successful businessman hung a small postcard of his favourite painting in apartment telling himself that he would own it one day. He did. The guy who started twitter started with a little sketch on how it would look and that did not look too different from what it is today.

Visualization is also a tool to educate yourself. The more you look at things you feel uncomfortable with today the sooner you will find yourself developing a comfortable familiarity.

How to visualize?

Use a scrapbook.

Change the wallpaper of your laptop, computer or phone.

Place a picture of what you’d like to be or a representation of what you want.

Keep a little picture in the photo compartment of your wallet or diary.

Change the images of your screen saver.

Hang up beautiful pictures.

Practice the same principles when it comes to buying things.

Ask yourself, does this item take me further away from the desired image of myself or brings me closer. This way, you’ll hold out for the thing you really want:

quality food, clothes, books etc. (there’s more about quality in a later chapter).

These methods will help you visualize the person you’d like to be. They will train your mind and steer you in the right direction.

Ginie Sayles, author of How to Win Pageants tells us about how she quickly adapted to the lifestyle of her rich husband.

“At that time when I met my husband, if I had not educated myself to his lifestyle through all things I’ve been through; met; there would have been such a gap of experience between us that we would have had little in common, little to talk about, much less to build a happy marriage upon.”

Many of us have our own images of elegance and the type of class we want to belong to. If we have not committed to who we want to be or what we want, it is time to etch out a clear vision and commit to it.

We owe it to ourselves to carve out that image clearly, so that we can direct our mind to conceive those things.

As Napoleon said, we first have to conceive that image before we can achieve it.

So get that diary out. Write down all the things you want to be. Imagine yourself the woman you want to be. Jot down your role models. Cut out as many pictures as you can that represent that vision. Make it as visual as possible. Refer to it daily and add to it frequently.

Fill in the blanks below to paint a clearer picture in your mind.

Design Your Life

Name:

Preferred name: (change your name if you have to get into your new persona!) It could be just a simple email address with your new name, or a secret blog.

Where you would like to live?

Where you would like to work?

Describe your ideal work situation.

Describe the ideal love of your life.

Describe the woman that would suit the person above:

How many children would you like to have.

What will be their names?

What will they be like?

(Give a very detailed description).

What kind of house would you live in?

How would you decorate?

What is each room like?

Describe the ideal routine you would like your life to be for every day of the week.

What hobbies would you like to pursue?

What kind of commitment do you think these hobbies need (to maintain them)?

Describe what would you wear every day.

Describe and add pictures of what you would wear at home, to bed, to travel, to a cocktail party, to a ball, to a wedding, to your wedding, to play sports (each individual sports), to go shopping, to go to lunch with the girls. Build a visual collection of a summer wardrobe, winter wardrobe and basically all the four seasons.

What would you wear if you were pregnant?

What are the skills or languages would you like to have acquired?

If you would have like to speak French fluently, put in a picture of the Eiffel Tower to represent your motivation to acquire that skill.

If you would like to master skiing, put the most attractive picture of a female skier in there.

Don’t forget to put your favourite quotes in your dream book.

This is what I call “authoring your life” by bringing your dreams into greater consciousness. No matter how long it takes for the actual fulfilment of dreams, you will progress much quicker than mere wishful thinking would allow you to!

“It’s never too late to become the person you might have been.” – George Elliot

Source: unknown

[darksideofthemamon]

1, 13, 65, 66 for fic writer asks!

1. Do you prefer writing one-shots or multi-chaptered fics?

While I've done multi-chaptered fics way back then, I think I do better with one-shots! Or if they're multi-chaptered, they can't be too long.

I think one-shots suit my life more now, I find I prioritize getting my ideas out as quick as I can without having to think too hard or commit long-term.

13. what’s a common writing tip that you almost always follow?

Write your first draft as if you know what you're doing, then go back and edit once you're done!

Also to just put placeholders instead of getting stuck, for example: "[scientific explanation]," he said

Also, not deleting things! Some things can be used later.

65. Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

Right now, most of my writing is going to my Tolkien OC's, I think I'm excited about writing things that... make sense. Like expound on the characters more, explain plot details, make things that are more plot relevant.

As for my non-creative writing stuff, as in "writing" but not through written medium (storytelling through illustration or comics), it's the same, I think. I just want the actual plot to come out more cus I know I tend to be more art or character-focused.

Like for Janus of Guardia, I made a lot of art and infodumps, but no actual storytelling? I've made prologues and oneshots, but never actually showed the relevant events in the story, and that's something I wanna be able to work on.

66. How do you deal with writing pressure (ie. pressure to update, negative comments, deadlines, etc.)?

I've never received a negative comment, but if someone was being a hater, I imagine I'd be very liberal with the block button XD I avoid deadlines because I want to be able to work at my own pace, which is why I avoid events and such ^^"

No one's pressuring me to make anything, so if I feel pressured, I'm doing that to myself. In which case, and this goes for illustration too, I step back and remind myself I don't get paid for this. Which doesn't diminish it's value, btw... It's just that, and this is what I learned after a year of wrist injury, it's sometimes not worth it when pushing yourself past the limits might do actual harm that does in fact get in the way of your daily life. I pick my battles, in other words!

Thanks for the ask!!

Send asks from here

[ahiddenpath]

I’m Back from Vacay/Life Update/Writing Update

Gonna getcha up to date on Hiddenland beneath the cut!

Vacation

I returned from the US Virgin Islands, St. Thomas yesterday.  We were there for 5 days.  I’ve never been, and I’ve also never taken a “do nothing” vacation, so it was an adventure, lol!

We stayed near Red Hook in an air B&B.  The internet basically persuaded me not to try a resort, citing crowded resorts, lack of privacy, etc- also, a lot of resorts don’t really provide easy access to a beach.  Our unit had its own pool, which was a huge selling point...  But unfortunately, it was fed by ice cold spring water.  Literally, when we hurt our feet, we put them in the pool to reduce the swelling.  So...  Well, I was disappointed by that.

But the beaches were stunning, with turquoise water that you could walk into- it was fairly warm, I mean, not “ooof ughh coldcoldcold!”.  I guess the trouble was getting out, since there were constant breezes on the beach, enough for kite surfing in some places.  

So if you know me, you might know that I have anxiety and that I’m...  Busy brained?  I was so antsy the first day of the trip, thinking-  Is this really fun?  Wouldn’t doing something be better?  But after about three hours of sitting on the beach, my brain flipped off like a switch.  I never felt like...  “Ahhhh, so relaxed.”  Actually, I don’t know if I’ve ever felt that.  But my brain did go quiet, and I read three books in five days, lol.

We also went on a turtle snorkel and sunset sailing tour.  We did see one green sea turtle, and thank goodness, because snorkeling in St. Thomas was nothing like snorkeling in Hawaii, at least not where we went.  In Hawaii, there’s always something to look at, all kinds of colorful fish.  In St. Thomas, I saw one turtle and a handful of sea stars.  The sailing was nice, though- I’ve never sailed before.

I also got horrendously sunburned the first day.  You know how it is- that first day, I’m all cute in my swimsuit, feeling great.  The second day, I’m wearing a swim shirt, swim trunks for ladies (truly the best thing ever), swim socks, a hat, sunglasses, and visible regret.  Seriously, I really hurt myself, I was in agony.  I applied and reapplied the heck out of my 50 SPF sunscreen, too, so I’m pissed.

If you want more details, let me know, because I learned a lot on the trip about vacationing in St. Thomas.  Overall, I’d say it was a nice lowkey experience, but damn the sunburns and the ice pool were upsetting.  

Also, my shy cat recognized me right away when I came home, which was a relief!  On my last trip, she treated me like I was a stranger wearing a Hidden suit for a few days x_x

Life Update

I feel like I’ve just been...  Adjusting?  To a new life?  The last few months.  I can say that my new job really is a mental health improvement over the last one.  I also get paid more- like appreciably more, and it turns out that this also reduces stress (who knew, right? /sarcasm).  But it is still a huge adjustment, and I’ve already found some of the new problems in the new place (mainly that they are hiring more people than they have space for, and they just... keep... hiring and telling us to deal with it however we want).

I’ve also been focusing on health, particularly exercising and reducing my resting heart rate.  I already reduced it by 2 bpm in about 6 weeks!  Taking better care of my physical self truly is possible, like in quantifiable ways (which makes my scientist brain happy).  It just helps to have small, manageable goals, and to focus on health rather than weight.

Writing News

So for most of camp digimonth, we had daily 45 min sprints for our writers and artists on the discord.  It was really fun to create together, and I’m so proud of everyone!    

I hate to say it, but I basically wrote or finished two new chapters, and barely touched my nanowrimo draft.  I also completed an artwork and am mostly done with another.  Er- basically, I did a lot, but also not...  What I...  Thought I would?

Soooo I am thinking that updates to PdA will start again in late February or early March, to give me more time to make a ready-to-post content buffer.  

And on that note, I’m going to go write!  Much love, mwah!  I hope you’re all doing amazing.

[protectgeorgeweasley]

WITH THIS NEXT UPDATE, WE ARE COMMENCING WITH LUMOS'S FOUR PART FINALE.

Each part is a separate update/chapter--this is different than the parts we had to split "Inheritance" into. [And there's also the epilogue, which technically comprises our final, fifth chapter, but it comes after the finale].

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I cannot believe we're here. <3 <3 As a fun, wrapping-up sort of thing:

Want to help me dress the Weasleys?

If you have Lumos-canon style wardrobe suggestions for George, Hermione, the Weasleys, or any of the other characters, please post any photos/moodboards/aesthetics/pinterest links/etc. and tag me here or on Instagram [@ lumosfic]! [Or dm me, if you'd rather not post.] Some general notes: -Is this weird? Sorry if this is weird. I thought it might be fun, and I've been wanting to try this for six months, but I've been too anxious to ask in case it's weird. -Depending on where I'm at in the writing process, I check platforms more or less often. If I don't see something right away, give it a bit of time. I'm likely hunched over my keyboard and will resurface for air eventually. -Within the Lumos universe, when dressing the characters, I typically consider a few factors: age, the character's relationship to the muggle world, their daily routines, the climate, and their financial status. For example, around the house, Arthur wears muggle clothes. But they're often from an earlier time in his life or handmade by Molly. He doesn't necessarily always match them correctly. The question of "when would they have gotten this item" is something I think on a lot when picking new clothing items, and I usually try to re-use pieces between multiple scenes. -Feel free to offer suggestions for either timeline, but bear in mind the characters haven't had much time for shopping in Hermione's timeline, so most of them probably aren't decked out in a set of Miss Sixty's ultra-low rises from the Birmingham location that's about to open in their era. Other things to consider/a moderately detailed rundown of characters and how they dress that ran away from me [a few, mild spoilers for the Lumos universe stories]:

Characters who work at the Ministry (or have worked there) are more likely to own things that suit a Ministry setting, though they may have differing attitudes towards these items, depending on the timeline in question.

The characters in the Lightning generation especially dress in a way that's very based in the costuming found in the films. So, think 80's/90's, since the wizarding world is a bit behind the muggle one, even with the younger people. Fleur is the exception, since she brought most of her clothes from France, and thrifts and alters her new acquisitions.

Other people in Arthur and Molly's generation might dress in a more formal wizarding style, or in items from the 70's, depending on their attitudes and relationships with muggle cultures. Older people who are better off might have newer things, too.

Characters fall into different places on the comfort/style paradigm.

Hermione dresses for function, mostly. These functions vary. Sometimes, it's about what's pragmatic for brewing or casting or training. But sometimes she's dressing to project a message--to George, to herself, to the world at large.

George dresses for purpose, prioritizing comfort when possible. He's grown a fair bit in embracing his own style where it differs from Fred's.

Arthur cannot do rough, uneven, and uncomfortable textures.

Molly fashions her own frills and sometimes wears them even when they might not suit her scheduled chores. Unlike Fleur, you can tell Molly's DIY pieces are DIY.

Fred wears nice clothes like armor,

and Fleur wears nice clothes like a second skin.

Angelina dresses for movement and practicality. Her mum usually braids her hair to help protect it in Quidditch practices and matches, and she'll do Angelo's.

Ginny hovers her hand over her trunk and makes a unique choice every day if she wants to be a sunbeam or a lightning strike. It is a coinflip.

Harry wears what Molly and Ginny buy him, since it always fits well.

Ron finds a sense of confidence in uniform, so he wears his even when he's not on duty.

Bill is constantly oscillating between his inner pulls towards independence and responsibility, so he might be cool-dragon-leather-jacket-Bill or grumpy-sport-coat-Bill, depending on the day.

Charlie has holes in nearly 3/4ths of his items. Not a single, whole sock in his collection. He's rough with his things, and doesn't think much of it. He can sew, from necessity, but it doesn't look pretty.

Percy dresses like Arthur dressed for the office in 1980, only he wears those things in his downtime, too. There are some differences, accounting for Percy's tastes--lots of long sleeves, neutral greys and blacks, and he's better at avoiding mismatched items because he is diametrically opposed to his clothing being affronting or loud [in color, texture, or the impression it might give others]. He wants his mouth or his quill to speak for him, and not anything else. The only statement Percy cares for his clothes to make is that he is intelligent. His only chance of having any sway when things get rough is to be seen as one of the smarter people in the room.

The children wear a mixture of hand-me-downs and newer things. Harry initially balked at hand-me-downs for Teddy, but eventually, he realized that sometimes hand-me-downs are not always markers of neglect, but rather belonging.

Young as they are, much of the children's style is currently a mixture of their parents and family's, though their own opinions do play a role [Victoire gravitates more towards Bill's aesthetic than Fleur's, at present; Angelo prefers red; Teddy avoided buttons until he was about four and a half, and his wardrobe still reflects this in some areas].

Luna is a shopfront magpie. She picks things only when they make her stop, smile, and say, "How strange." She gravitates more towards softer blues, like Fleur, but she is far less coordinated with them. She rotates her things so as not to hurt their feelings from neglect.

Emmeline and Marcus shop together a lot--more as they've gotten closer. It's one of their bonding activities, and Marcus is very much the dad waiting on the bench outside the fitting room [muggle or magical, it doesn't matter], who will hype her up when she emerges to do a twirl. She has a unique style that she cultivates, and it's always evolving. Details are important to her, so things like custom pieces or alterations catch her eye. She's more of a curator than a crafter, though; she's been too busy with school to allow for much else. [Marcus is admittedly less enthusiastic about his own wardrobe, but he lets Emmeline manage it from time to time.] He takes her to the same muggle stylist who did her late mum's hair, which is quite special for her.

Parvati used to be quite invested in style and trends. Now, she tracks them as a perfunctory task in case she needs to blend in somewhere posh. Since the war with Voldemort, her wardrobe has become less varied and a bit more severe-looking. She dresses to look older, stronger, and to conceal any appearance of weakness. Padma and Mrs. Patil sneak colour and whimsy back into her wardrobe anyway.

Every article of clothing that Winky puts on her body is an act of resistance. She never dresses without thinking. If she tries it on, she owns it. [She's donated a lot to the hidden cities.] She used to wear human children's clothing, but by 2003, she's since found a tailor. [It's Fleur. Fleur is the tailor, though Winky will also wear things made by elves and goblins, too.]

Gable loves his knitted caps and gravitates to bright colours because they're still distinguishable underground.

Dennis is equally likely to be spotted in something that looks vaguely like a shirt George or Harry might've outgrown as he is to be seen in some fleeting, muggle trend. Sometimes Dennis goes shopping with Marcus and Emmeline. [Dennis and Emmeline embraced grunge together for a bit; Emmeline grew out of it faster. Much, much faster.]

...I'm going to stop there, because that became far longer than anticipated. [Hopefully it's entertaining and fun and not a wall of annoying text.] Anyways, these are some of the things I tend to think about while dressing the characters, but don't feel like you have to account for all of that. <3 <3 I included it mostly for fun or for anyone who wants it.

TLDR: If you have any inclination to contribute clothing inspiration or ideas, I'd be quite excited to see them!! Inspiration/suggestions would be taken on an as-needed basis, with consideration to what fits within the outline and the remaining chapters.

Please specify in your response whether you'd like a specific shoutout/credit in the A/N if I draw from one of your suggestions. Otherwise, credit will be attributed more generally. <3 <3 <3

Finally, if this isn't your thing or you'd rather not, no worries! <3 <3 I thought it might be fun, is all.

[just6f]

REMARKABLE NORDIC SACRED SYMBOL TREE WALL CLOCK. AN EVEN BETTER DISCOUNT. Interested in our Nordic Sacred Symbol Tree Wall Clock? Well, great minds think alike, because our team is holding an exclusive 18% off on the Nordic Sacred Symbol Tree Wall Clock today! Choose from our popular sellers such as Nordic Sacred Symbol Tree Wall Clock Tree Of Life Viking Mystic Amulet Wall Art Home Decor Silent Wall Watch -- all priced at just $40.80! This offer won't last long, so ADD TO CART now to save $9.20! NORDIC SACRED SYMBOL TREE WALL CLOCK INFORMATION Material: Acrylic Diameter: 30cm Dimensions: 300mm Feature: Antique style Body Material: Plastic Any questions left? Then feel free to contact us in any convenient way, and don’t be shy to ask anything you want to know because we're always happy to answer any question. PRODUCT QUESTIONS & ANSWERS I got a question about the Color. Is this all the options I have? In the description of the Nordic Sacred Symbol Tree Wall Clock, you can see the relevant data on the available product variations. So choose anything you like. Are the colors true? The colors in the images of our Nordic Sacred Symbol Tree Wall Clock are real. Some gadgets and devices could slightly change colors. So, make sure yours gives the real picture. Do you charge extra fees for delivery or anything else? You will see the total order cost including the necessary taxes (if applicable to your location) on the checkout page. Thus, no other spendings will be required. How much does it cost? We appreciate your interest in our product above all. It costs only $40.80. I’m not sure the Nordic Sacred Symbol Tree Wall Clock will suit me. I don’t want to order and then regret it. If you are not happy with your Nordic Sacred Symbol Tree Wall Clock, feel free to contact our support service, so we could solve your problem. Is it exactly what I need? You have no reason to question your choice because this is one of the greatest market offers in terms of its value for money! ORDERING & STORE POLICIES What happens if I buy several of these at once? Will the items come in separate packages? We may put your orders in separate packages, but all of them will arrive simultaneously, no matter how many units you’re going to order. What if the package with my Art Home Decor Silent Wall Watch gets damaged during delivery? Contact us if something bad happened with your package during transfer. There is no reason to worry because if your package is lost or damaged, you will get a full refund. How many do you have? Even though the number of the items available for purchase is decreasing daily, there will be enough product units for you if you place your order today. So hurry up! How can I learn more about the terms of purchase? I can’t find the info page. You will find the contact details of our support team at the bottom of the page, so feel free to get in touch with our service with any questions about the Nordic Sacred Symbol Tree Wall Clock. I am not sure that I should buy it from you. Why to choose your store? We offer a wide range of items, highly detailed product information and illustrative media files. In addition, all our products are made of high-quality and safe materials, and we try to keep our prices as low as we can. The products look interesting, but is your store trustworthy? Thank you for the question. Please, pay attention to the feedback that our previous buyers provide us with. It clearly demonstrates our proper business record! https://just6f.com/nordic-sacred-symbol-tree-wall-clock-tree-of-life-viking-mystic-amulet-wall-art-home-decor-silent-wall-watch/?feed_id=5400&_unique_id=64c38f54cd099

[tooweirdforyou]

How The OP Boys Say “I Love You” To Their S/O

How You Know He Loves You- idk man

A/N : enjoy.

includes » Ace, Sabo, Luffy, law, Sanji, Zoro, Marco, Rosinante, Kid, Shanks, Mihawk, Katakuri, Izo, Koby, Cavendish,

Summary : the boys’ own way of saying “I love you”, with their own words and ways. Or, how you know he loves you.

? Wait did I do this before? I don’t even know. also these aren’t GREAT, but they aren’t HORRIBLE. Yk? Honestly tho, some of these seem like they’re all over the place, which yes, they might be. UGH IT WAS SO HARD THO.

-

Monkey D. Luffy

Luffy loves you like an adventure. Everything is new and always fun to try with him, and no matter what happens, you don’t ever regret it, because you’re doing it with him.

He’s persistent in staying with you everywhere, he wants to do everything with you. He tends to invite you ( by pulling your hand ) to do crazy things with him and away from the others so you’re alone.

He’s always showing off his skills and stupidity in order to make you laugh, because your smile is the best thing he’s ever seen and giggles are the beautiful sound he treasures.

His actions are genuine when he holds your hand and pulls you to his side all the time, with the warmest, loving grin.

Luffy always makes sure to remind you to never give up hope.

“Let’s go on an adventure together, [Name].”

-

Roronoa Zoro

Zoro loves you like you’re his one and only. No one has priority over you, ( except maybe Luffy ), and you will always be his, if you’ll let him.

Zoro is not a man of many words when it comes to his own emotions and feelings, so he shows it through his actions.

He always has an eye on you, so wherever you are is where he ‘sleeps’ so he can keep you close, his swords at his side to protect you from danger, ( but he knows you can handle yourself. )

Zoro is the perfect person to lend a comforting shoulder and ear. He will listen to every single one of your problems intently and if he can, will offer the best advice you’ll hear, even if it’s a bit harshly. However, whatever got you so down, Zoro will bring you back up.

Zoro is always reminding you that you are strong, no matter how tough things get.

“Oi, come take a nap with me. I could use a body pillow.”

-

Portgas D. Ace

Ace loves you like a gentleman, respecting boundaries, bowing to the elderly you pass by together and always ready to pick you up for your date at seven, bouquet of flowers in hand.

If Ace is good at anything, it’s knowing how to distract you with a good time. He knows the best way to bring a beautiful smile to your lips and can easily make sure to avoid the thoughts that brought you down in the first place.

He’ll share stories that will make you die of laughter or feel so wholesome that you literally melt at how sweet it is.

The few times he expresses and shares his insecurities to you, something he hides within him because he trusts you enough to do so. He loves your understanding and comfort for him.

Ace always reminds you that you’ll be okay, even at the worst times.

“You are the light of my life.”

-

Chief of Staff Sabo

Sabo loves you like a prince. He holds the door for you, takes your hand so you don’t fall, has the most charismatic smile on his face and is just so charming.

Sabo will remember the littlest things, the smallest details that you yourself don’t even know until he reminds you, and because of this, you are often gifted the most memorable and cherishing gifts, like the scarf you two bought for your perfect snowman, to the necklace you were staring a little too longingly at on display.

He’s always busy, but he doesn’t hesitate to drop whatever he has just for you. He will run through fire if it means you’ll stop crying or if you’ll be happy to see him. You are his lifeline, his soul, his love.

He may not know how to properly cheer you up like his brothers can, but he knows that he wants the best for you. If you need space, you got it. You need some tender loving cuddles and buckets of ice cream while watching Disney movies? Vanilla or chocolate ice cream?

Sabo reminds you that you deserve happiness and peace.

“Whenever you need me, I’ll be there.”

-

Trafalgar D. Water Law

Law loves you like you’re his savior, someone who’s always there during his time of need and insecurities, by his side when he needs you most.

He’s a little blunt and straightforward occasionally, but he’s honest somewhat. He won’t ever tell you his feelings until he deems it the right time, but you can tell he has feelings by the change in treatment.

He’ll keep you closer to him, making excuses by saying that he needs you to help him with the supply run, or that he needs your assistance with a particular menial task.

He’s awkward and shy about it at first but he cares and that’s all you need to know. Especially once you catch him during one of his weaker times, the anniversary of a particular someone rolling around, where he’s locked in his room. He needs you beside him, so please don’t leave him when he needs you.

Law reminds you that you are human, that it’s okay to be vulnerable.

“Just stay here with me.”

-

Vinsmoke Sanji

Sanji loves you like a god/goddess. He will treat you with the utmost respect and care and offers you everything you could possibly want or need, just say the word.

His genuine, endless daily compliments are given to you with pure love and passion, his daily refreshments and snacks to keep you energized and hydrated keeps an eye out for your health.

He makes sure you know the true meaning of flattery, chivalry and love, because that is all he can show you.

However, under that chivalrous exterior, is his calmer, understanding loving self, where he shows his true self and when he finally shares this side with you, where he holds his insecurities, it’s the true honor and love you can receive. And it’s even better, when you become the one who loves for him in return during this time.

Sanji reminds you that you deserve to be and are loved.

“You are my world, my everything.”

-

Marco The Phoenix

Marco loves you like a married couple who grew old together, still playing jokes and having fun to life’s fullest, no matter your age.

He’s constantly lecturing you for the smallest things repeatedly, since you always seem to forget. His lectures lack any annoyance or malice though, he’s just kind of done with you sometimes.

Nonetheless, he’s taking care of you more than you think, always the first one there whenever you need help. He’s always prepared for whatever you need so you don’t have to look for it and get worried.

He’s stern at times but he loves you more than you could ever know, often questioning himself whenever he’s beside you. He half-lidded eyes watching you with warmth and admiration because you always look so determined.

Marco always reminds you that you are free. To live life to its fullest and however you wish.

“Let me fly you to the moon.”

-

Donquixote Rosinante

Rosinante loves you like a husband, he treats you like his wife, either you or him welcoming each other home after being gone for so long and greeting each other with a loving kiss each time.

He knows just how tough things can be and as much as he tries to make things right, he knows how bad situations really are and no matter how much he wants to cry or get angry, he always holds a smile, in front of you. To assure you that things will be okay.

He gives the warmest hugs, and knows that, so whenever you’re angry or sad, or just randomly at times, Rosi envelops you into a large hug, waddling you back and forth a few times, you feel instant relief and content, which makes him smile.

His priority will always be you, even if he’s hundreds of thousands miles away, he will find his way back home to you. He surprises you with the littlest gifts; being flowers, jewelry, candles, or more.

Rosi will always remind you to smile, even during the hardest times.

“I will protect you.”

-

Eustass Kid

Kid loves you like a game, it’s unexpected, unpredictable of what will happen and it’s exciting and thrilling. For you both, one wrong move, and the other is gone for good, but perhaps, second chances/rematches are available.

He can be brash and a bit much, but Kid has high respect for anyone who actually makes it onto his crew and can actually tolerate him, you included.

He’s loud and wild but that only makes it part of the fun. With such a short fuse, as long as you play your cards right and pick your moments to bite back, it’s kind of fun knowing how dangerous it can be with a guy like Kid, and he also loves it equally, because your feistiness is attractive.

Being a bad bitch that doesn’t play by the rules is so incredibly attractive and Kid knows how to reward and punish so tread carefully. ;) however, he has his down moments and as annoying he can be, he does appreciate the effort you give if you try to comfort him. He’ll be harsh about it but eventually, he just wants you to be with him in the end.

Kid reminds you to rebel, take risks and enjoy the thrill of getting in dangerous situation every once in a while, breaking a few rules doesn’t hurt anybody. Most of the time.

“Don’t fucking ever leave me.. okay?”

-

Dracule Mihawk

Mihawk loves you like you’re an empress, only the finest and highest quality for you, nothing else can compare.

Mihawk will buy you the most expensive dress that suits you, with an equally expensive matching jewelry to go with. Not to mention the heels, and, tch, how could he forget the roses you require? Despicable.

As much as he loves to show you off, he despises the stares of awe and admiration you receive whenever you go out, so his possessiveness takes over and he has an arm around your waist at all times, successfully showing you’re taken and to back off if they don’t wish to be cut into oblivion.

He trains you to handle yourself, obviously, you should know at least some basic skills. He’s not too hard on you but does push you to keep going until you truly wish to stop. It’s only because he’s worried that one day, he won’t be there and won’t be able to protect you.

Mihawk reminds you that you are a queen/king, a strong person who shall hold your ground and never back down from fear and show your bravery.

“Come here, mi amor.”

-

Red Haired Shanks

Shanks loves you like you’re his future. It’s an unknown journey, but he’s there for the ride and whatever may happen, he’s there staying and won’t be going anywhere, unless it’s with you.

The red head is a goofball, he drinks, parties and messes around but he is an incredible captain and genuine to a fault. So when he expresses kindness, it is purely from his heart and not out of manners.

He is extremely playful and yet when down to business, he is calm, collected, and cool. He knows just what to say in tough situations and great comforting advice, so he’s the one to go to when you’re feeling down. And as laid back as he is, disrespect to those he loves is the one shit he won’t take.

He’ll hold you close and with his signature grin, compliment you and tell you how much he appreciates you and as soon as someone lays a finger on you, his hand is on the hilt of the sword and he waits three seconds for an explanation before he cuts them down. No one messes with his beloved.

Shanks reminds you of loyalty. To always protect and care for those close to you, and keep that built up trust and bond you created with them.

“Trust me. I won’t let go of you.”

-

Charlotte Katakuri

Katakuri loves you like you’re glass, he’s careful, protective, cautious and treats you like you’re fragile, because he’s afraid of hurting you.

He’s larger than most, he’s aware of that, so he always takes the precautions to be aware of his surroundings, especially when you are around. He wants you safe and he will be devastated if he is the cause of your pain.

His large stature is a blessing to you though, because cuddling is so comfortable and comforting, it’s amazing. You can curl up and relax and just be at ease with him, because he’s so protective of you, even from his family members. He often keeps you away from Cracker and Perospero, in the slightest chance that they try to take you away from him.

He’ll be extremely heartbroken if Big Mom doesn’t approve of you, but his love for you is stronger, so he’ll keep it a secret if he has to but eventually, he’ll pray and wish for her blessing, asking the help of his siblings to convince her.

Katakuri reminds you of family, that even friends or crewmates are family and love you all the same.

“I will be here for you.”

-

Captain Koby

Koby loves you like a typical high school crush. He’s all shy and blushy, and evidently embarrassed when the pretty one at school is talking to him, ( that’s you. ).

He’s like the wallflower type, who tries to blend in but somehow, he sticks out in a way that lures you to him, like he’s hit the jackpot.

He is incredibly sweet, and his shyness is so adorable. You can’t help but coo whenever you see his red cheeks and soft smile of care he offers.

Always helps you with everything, will take the blame whenever you get in trouble, takes the suffering and pain when guys try to mess with you, and no matter how tough things get, he’s holding a brave face for you.

Koby reminds you of kindness, treat everyone with care and kindness, and it goes a long way.

“If you fall, I’ll be there to catch you.”

-

16th Division Commander Izo

Izo loves you like you’re a painting, he thinks you are true beauty, inside and out, you are a work of art, a true Mother Nature masterpiece born. One to be admired.

The type to be there. He’ll hold your hair while you vomit, rubbing soothing circles on your back while you cry, painting your nails while you complain about Ace, assure your perfection when you’re feeling insecure.

Best advice giver, holds no judgements at all. He’ll help with anything, because you need him. Romantic advice, friendship, sexual advice ;), he will help you any way he can.

He truly admires you, not because of your beauty, but your strength to be able to cry. Crying doesn’t mean weakness but rather, strength to be able to move forward even in the worst of times.

Izo reminds you that you are beautiful, no matter what anyone thinks or says.

“You are true beauty, my love.”

-

Cavendish Of The White Horse

Cavendish loves you like you’re a princess, and he is your handsome Prince Charming.

Every thing he does it like from a fairytale, if it involved a rather.. bit of a narcissistic Prince Charming. But he means well, because he still treats you like a real princess.

He gives you daily horseback rides, teaching you with his strong arms wrapped around yours and his black fancy hat on top of your head, as you two ride around and share laughs and memories.

And even through his big ego, he still makes sure to compliment you, tell you how proud he is of you and how much he truly admires you for your strong will and determination, because he really does love you. More than you know.

Cavendish reminds you that dreams can come true, sometimes it just takes a leap of faith and effort.

“I will treat you like the princess you are and deserve to be.”

-

A/N : 15 fucking people and having to think of different things while I’m distracted is so HARD. 😭 please tell me you enjoyed though ;-;

but did I do this already? God I can’t remember a thing, especially since I still haven’t updated my masterlists- and I’m terribly sorry if this really is all over the place ;-; also apologies if this is repetitive for some of them! It really is difficult yk ;-;

[rocorambles]

Set My Heart Ablaze

Pairing: Matsukawa x Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Non-Con/Dub-Con, Creepy Matsukawa, Obsessive Behavior, Public Train Sex

Prompt: Chikan/Trains/Public Sex

Summary: Neither of you can deny the mutual spark of interest between the two of you, but Matsukawa takes the matter of turning that spark into a fire into his own hands. Only time will tell if that fire will provide you warmth and comfort or burn you alive.

A/N: This is my submission for the HQHQ NSFW Collab! Masterlist can be found here. Be sure to check everyone’s content once the masterlist goes live tomorrow night~

The train doors open and Matsukawa briefly glances up, smiling to himself as you step onboard, looking left and right for an open spot despite how you always end up in the same corner of the moving vehicle. He doesn’t know anything about you, not even your name. Yet he finds himself drawn to the normalcy you bring, the comfort of knowing you’re a clockwork fixture of his everyday life.

It hadn’t always been like this.

Matsukawa is just a man at the end of the day and he doesn’t deny that he took note of you long before you became so ingrained in his life. But it had been no more than a man observing an attractive woman and he doesn’t give you another passing thought as he returns to gazing out the train windows.

But working with death on a daily basis makes you look at life differently.

He prides himself on being a practical and level-headed man and despite the heavy nature of his profession, he never thought he’d get too bogged down by the environment, by the grimness of his business. Sure, maybe someone like Oikawa would freak out within hours, if not minutes, of being in a funeral home surrounded by corpses and coffins. But he’s not Oikawa (thank God for that). It’s just a job to help keep a roof over his head and food on the table.

But the longer he’s surrounded by caskets, the more grieving and sobbing families and friends he has to comfort yet professionally guide through catalogs and brochures and price tags, he can slowly but surely feel the weight of his daily work resting heavy on his shoulders, digging deeper into him with every corpse and tragic story he reluctantly becomes privy to. Matsukawa finds a new appreciation for life, for every tiny and minute detail, and suddenly you aren’t just another stranger who happens to share his train route.

You’re a reminder that he’s still alive, that despite the curveballs life throws at some, he’s still blessed to enjoy the routine and monotony of it. Life looks different, clearer, as he begins to really pay attention, appreciating every moment he has.

Maybe he’s paying too much attention. He doesn’t know when he begins to focus so intently on you, shocking himself with the realization that he’s observed you so closely when he nonchalantly notices that you’re using a different tote bag than your usual one. When did Matsukawa Issei become someone who notices the details of a woman’s outfit and accessories?

He knows it’s not right, knows even Hanamaki would crinkle his nose in distaste if he found out Matsukawa was creepily studying a random unknown female on a daily basis. But he can’t help himself, his realization only seeming to make him unconsciously focus on you even more. He notices what hand you use to hold your phone. He memorizes every expression you make as your mind drifts off, lulled by the machinery of the train.

But looking from afar only satisfies him for so long and he finds himself creeping closer to you, adjusting where he sits to be closer to your preferred corner of the train. He always tells himself just a little closer, but it’s never enough. And although he’s now standing right beside you, close enough to see every eyelash, every pore of your skin, it’s still not enough. He needs to hear your voice, feel your body against his, know everything about you inside and out.

He understands the irony of the situation he’s found himself in, reminiscing on how Hanamaki and him had gagged at how disgusting men could be as they watched older businessmen grope and grab at poor unwilling female passengers on their way to and from school. He knows how wrong it is, how like an uninspired porno this is, but when the train conveniently rattles, he jostles his body into yours, “accidentally” bumping into you.

Acting isn’t Matsukawa’s forte, but he thinks he damn well deserves an award for the performance he’s putting on as he profusely apologizes to you, hiding the groan of satisfaction he feels from the brief contact he’d had with you, from the way your attention is solely focused on him, from the way your voice seeps into his ears like the loveliest melody he’s ever heard. He doesn’t even know what he’s saying, meaningless small and polite talk leaving his lips as his mind focuses on what’s more important, mentally recording every syllable and movement you make as you continue conversing with him. But whatever words are spilling out of him seem to be working and something hungry and possessive stirs in him when your face lights up as you board the train the next day, making a beeline towards where he stands as you cheerfully greet him.

Maybe it’s foolish of you to so easily trust and warm up to a complete stranger. But he’s tall, attractive, and interesting, which is more than you can say for most of the men you’ve met and your friends and family are always telling you to put yourself out there more. Is there really much of a difference between finding a random stranger on the countless dating apps you’ve installed versus connecting with one in person? You’d even argue that there’s something whimsically romantic about how the two of you met, even though you don’t know for sure if this is really going to lead to anything. But at the very least, your daily commute becomes more exciting.

You’re everything and more compared to what Matsukawa had imagined and if he thought he was infatuated with you before, he’s completely and utterly obsessed with you now. You’re all he can think of, all he can see in his mind’s eye, even hours after you’ve parted ways on your morning commute, even as he lays in bed in the middle of the night. And as his hand slips underneath the hem of his boxers, wrapping around his aching cock to his imaginations of what you’d look like writhing underneath him, how you’d sound moaning his name, he knows he needs to have you.

After all, as pretty as a meal can be, it’s ultimate purpose is to be devoured.

You giggle when the train shakes and you feel a long toned body shift into yours, squishing you against the wall you’re leaning against, sighing in bliss at how right, how good it feels to be in Matsukawa’s embrace even if it is just for a fleeting moment, a little accident all too common on jam packed trains. But your face heats when you continue feeling his warmth, when his body seems to press even further into you until you can feel the expanse of his body against yours, not even an inch of space left between you.

“Matsukawa-”

Your words are caught off by a gasp as Matsukawa buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, lips and tongue mouthing and licking the sensitive skin there. You’re confused, scared, and aroused, hands reaching up to clutch at the lapels of Matsukawa’s suit, unsure whether to hold him tight to you or push him away. And your humiliation only increases when a nearby elderly couple scowls at the two of you in disdain, clearly unamused by the scandalous gestures of what they believe to be a young couple in love.

Yet you can’t help how your heart beats faster, wondering if this is proof of Matsukawa’s attraction to you, wondering if your hidden feelings for him are returned. But this isn’t the time or place for that conversation and you fervently whisper in his ear, begging him to stop, telling him people are watching.

“Is that the only reason you want me to stop? Because people are watching?”

You grow flustered at the implied meaning of his words, shame filling you at how much you’re enjoying this, hating how your neck arches for more attention as he straightens up once more, his body hiding yours from view as he stands in front of you, still pinning you to the wall.

“Better be as still and quiet as you can, sweetheart.”

You don’t have time to register his words before your mouth opens in a pathetic whine as a calloused hand trails under the hem of your shirt, sliding across the stretch of your stomach, mapping your torso before finally shoving your bra above the swell of your breasts, kneading one of your mounds, tweaking and swirling around your hardening nipple. It feels so good and you almost succumb right then and there, lost in the predatory lustful gaze he pins you with.

But when the train makes its next stop, the conductor’s voice jars you from your trance and you clutch at Matsukawa’s forearm, silently pleading for him to stop with desperate eyes despite the way you quietly mewl when he just quirks an eyebrow and pinches your nipple in retaliation.

“We can’t- We shouldn’t-”

Your hand trembles, jaw going slack when he slides one thigh between your legs, digging his hard muscles into that already dripping hole only protected by the fabric of your pants.

“You’re not very convincing. How about we play a game? If you can tell me you don’t want this without moaning like a bitch in heat, I’ll stop.”

There’s no room for disagreement as he abruptly begins grinding his thigh into your aching cunt, flexing and relaxing his muscle in a pattern and rhythm you can’t keep up with. It takes every last bit of will power in you to not wantonly ride his leg and hump against him like the lewd slut he had just accused you of being.

“I don’t want-”

You cry out in agonized pleasure as his fingers still hovering near your breasts begin to roll your nipples between calloused tips, his thigh never losing its momentum. And under the dual points of attack, your resistance crumbles. Matsukawa’s eyes widen in awe as you bounce and roll your hips against his leg, hiding your face in his chest as you try to muffle the lewd sounds slipping past your lips in the fabric of his jacket.

You’re gorgeous like this, a needy, lustful mess. But as much as he loves to see you suffer so beautifully, there’s only so much time before your stop and he decides to have mercy on you, to reward you for being so honest, so good for him. Your face snaps up to stare at him with pupils blown wide as his hand reaches underneath the waistband of your pants and panties. He groans when his fingers are instantly soaked in your arousal, your panties sticky with your fluids and his digits slip inside of your tight wet heat with no resistance at all.

He wants nothing more than to push the pesky fabric out of the way and lay you bare for his viewing pleasure, to have easy access to thrust in and out of you. But he’ll save that for another day. Instead his fingers slip out of you, tips circling your swollen clit, rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves as you resume humping his leg, body trembling, drool beginning to trickle from your lips as you frantically chase your end. And as the train stops once more, passengers trickling in and out, you silently scream, body convulsing as he brings you over the edge, pleasure washing over you and leaving you exhausted as you shiver and slump in his arms that are quick to embrace you and hold you steady as the train begins to move again.

You submissively let his fingers coated in your essence enter your mouth, obediently sucking and licking him clean, finding strange comfort in the action as you remain rested against him. But you keen in confusion, cheeks still hollowed as you mindlessly continue sucking while he guides one of your hands to the bulge in his pants.

But although Matsukawa is a man of few words, his desire is clear despite the silence and your face heats in embarrassment as he unbuttons his trousers, bringing your hand to the waistband of his boxers, dark eyes expectantly staring down at you. You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t. Not when you can literally hear the other passengers surrounding the two of you, only Matsukawa’s tall frame hiding your illicit activity. But your body has a mind of its own and you greedily slip under the fabric barrier, moaning around his fingers at how large, hot, and heavy he is in your hands.

You hate how badly you want to see it, to feel it inside you, splitting you apart. Your pussy clenches, leaking in interest once again despite having just found blissful release mere minutes ago as your hands curiously trail up and down the shaft, trying to memorize how every bit of it feels against your skin, trying to visualize what it looks like. But you whimper as Matsukawa finally pulls his fingers free from your mouth, squeezing your jaw and giving you a warning look.

“Don’t tease me, doll.”

Your fingers wrap around the length and it’s your turn to stare up at Matsukawa with eyes full of hunger and awe as you watch his Adam’s apple swallow, as you feel a pleased groan reverberate in his chest with every stroke of your hand. Up and down. Up and down. Your hands are slick with pre-cum and you know it’s just your imagination, but you swear you can hear the lewd wet sounds of his sticky essence coating his shaft with every movement of your palm against the velvety skin. You’re so mesmerized, so lost in the experience that you startle when something hot and thick spurts onto your hand, mixing with his pre-cum, making an even bigger mess of his boxers and you.

You stare stunned at the hand you pull out from between his legs, gazing at the white and transparent fluids that coat your flesh. But before you can even think about wiping it off or scavenging around for a spare napkin or paper in your bag, a large hand grabs your wrist and brings your stained fingers to your mouth. You try to resist him, the spell he had you under broken now that the haze of lust isn’t blinding you. But his grip tightens until you wince and finally relent, stomach churning in disgust and shame as you tentatively lick at the bitter liquid.

He doesn’t release you, not until every last drop is coating the inside of your mouth, his taste heavy in your mouth, seemingly in every crevice of your orifice, your hand completely clean and void of your sinful interaction.

You want to hate him. You want to wipe the smug satisfied look clean off his face. But as you readjust your disheveled clothing, you’re reminded of your own body’s betrayal, your own carnal desire and pleasure, by the uncomfortable mess in between your legs. And all you can do is silently stand there and pretend that nothing has happened as Matsukawa nonchalantly tucks himself in and checks his phone.

There’s an uncomfortable silence as you wait for him to acknowledge what has just happened, only to be disappointed as he doesn’t even spare you another glance, too observed in the glowing screen in his hand. You wonder if this was just a one time thing, if he had been stringing you along all this time for one quick public tryst. And you hate the way that thought makes your chest hurt, hate how much you dislike the idea of never seeing him again, never talking to him again, never feeling and tasting him again.

But as the train pulls into his stop, your eyes widen when his face hovers by your ear, lips grazing your lobe as his voice melts into your soul.

“Wear a dress or skirt tomorrow. No panties or bra.”

He laughs as surprise turns into an endearing scowl that barely hides the apparent relief in your eyes and he just casually waves farewell as you send him on his way with a tirade of angry words about his fucking audacity. But it’s all empty heat and he chuckles at the self-conscious embarrassment written all over your face when he sees you the next morning, a pretty dress fluttering around your knees.

There’s no preamble, no pretense of what’s about to happen and he smirks in appreciation at the unobstructed feeling of skin against skin as he slips his hand under your skirt, not an inch of fabric covering the treasure at the apex of your thighs.

[sinner-as-saint]

His Obsession.

Mob!Seb x Housekeeper!Reader

Run-through: You work for the notorious mob boss. You’re at his house regularly; tidying up and cleaning and surprisingly you’re not scared of him like the rest of his staff are. Sure he is authoritative, and mean but he’s never disrespectful or inappropriate, nor does he bark orders at you like he does with the guys. And you were almost certain that he barely pays attention to you. Until one evening he confronts you about something. And what starts out heated, ends in a night neither of you will ever forget…

Themes: mob!seb (because I miss him), jealous!seb, housekeeper!reader, angst, fluff, dark (ish) mob!seb

a/n: this is my thank you note to all of you :) Enjoy! 

“Miss Y/N? Could you come here for a minute?”

You heard the sound of your boss’ voice. His voice.

Sebastian… You stop right at the stairs and turn around to find him standing by the door of his magnificent bedroom. One which you had cleaned and tidied just this morning itself.

You nod and he immediately walks back into his room and leaves the door open. Your heart pounded, and your body felt all cold for a second. Had you made a mistake? Was there something you did which he didn’t like?

You had heard from the butler a while ago that your boss once fired a guy for parking his favorite car in the wrong spot. The mob boss, after all, was a perfectionist. He was a very proper man with rules and regulations which had to be followed within the walls of his home. Hence, you were nervous like never before as you entered his bedroom.

He was sat on the dark grey couch by his bed, looking down at his phone and sipping on his liquor. The couch which always seemed so comfortable, and soft. But you never dared to even touch for too long, afraid to you might ruin it.

You would be lying if you said that you didn’t find him attractive. He was hot. He was perfect; mean, intimidating, and powerful. All of him screamed danger; but he was also the kind of man one feels naturally drawn to. His effortless bad boy charm, his authority and how he took control in the span of seconds made him lethal. Gorgeous, but lethal.

“Yes, sir?” you spoke up, trying to get his attention.

He looked up immediately and he had that no-nonsense look on his face. Oh you knew that look all too well. Earlier this week, he had the same look on as he punched the living shit out of a member of his gang who was sent to spy on his by a rival gang.

You realized that right now, as your boss looked at you, he was angry. His blue eyes were cold, and the intensity of his gaze made you shiver.

He spoke, “Yesterday was your day off, no?”

You nodded. He clenched his jaw and exhaled loudly through his nose; another sign pointing to his current bad mood.

You tried not to seem too intimidated by his stern gaze. “Yes sir.” You responded, still unsure of where he was taking this. Could it be perhaps that someone had messed up something while you weren’t here yesterday? But that still wouldn’t explain why he couldn’t just tell you outside.

Why did he have to call you into his room?

As soon as that question crossed your mind, Sebastian got up and walked over to you. His phone in one hand, and his drink in the other. He approached you as you stood by the end of his bed; slowly, steadily and making your heart race.

He stopped right in front of you and put his phone screen right in front of your face, showing you a picture. “Care to tell me about what’s going on in this picture?” he tilted his head to the side and stared deep into your eyes with his stormy ocean blue ones.

In front of you was a photograph. A picture of you at the club last night. You were sat on a stool by the bar, talking to a guy. His hand was on your thigh and you remember how much he was making you laugh.

You were shocked at first as you took in the details. A picture of you, out clubbing with some friends and this guy you met a few weeks ago. In fact after last night, you concluded that it’d be better if you were just friends.

“Why do you have my picture? Who took this?” you asked, keeping your calm with your boss even though you were quite irritated. Mob boss or not, how dare he spy on your personal life?

Sebastian smirked, definitely not finding anything amusing. “You tell me why you’ve been out and about with my rivals.”

Your eyes widened at his words. Rivals… what? It couldn’t be, the guy said he worked at… wait, the guy didn’t say anything about his work.

“Your rivals, sir?”

Sebastian locked his phone and threw it carelessly on the couch then turned to face you again. “Now, what does that say about me, Y/N? Why is someone who works for me, out and about with my rivals in my own club?”

His club… that explains how he must’ve have gotten the phototgraph. His people must have sent it to him. But why were they watching you?

“I didn’t know anything about all that. Why do you have people spying on me?” your irritation was taking over little by little.

He stared at you for a few more seconds as he recalled all that happened yesterday…

 -flashback-

Sebastian was at home, in his study when his phone rang. He saw that it was the manager of one of his clubs calling. Weird.

He answered rather annoyed, “What is it?”

The guy spoke up, nervously. “Boss uh, your girl is here.”

Sebastian froze.

“Who’s she with?” was the first thing which came to his mind. You were at his club which meant that you couldn’t possibly be alone. For some reasons, the thought of you out clubbing with another man made him want to punch something.

Yes, he was completely spellbound by you. The big bad mob boss had lost his heart to his daily. How could he not?

You were kind, and patient and always filled the house with warmth whenever you stepped in. Not to mention that the first time he saw you, you took his breath away. And no woman had ever done that before. And from that very moment, Sebastian found himself thinking about you constantly;

When he was at work. When he wasn’t at work. When he was in a boring meeting. Even when he was in the company of other women, he was obsessed with the thought of you.

However, it was hard to get you alone and talk to you. You were always busy and he was always surrounded by his guys or his guards. And he couldn’t seem all soft with his guys around. Although, he often worried about what would happen if you find someone else. Someone less dark and dangerous, someone with a less tainted reputation than him.

You probably deserved it, but he couldn’t let that happen. No, you were his. And he would treat you like a queen, if only you’d notice him…

He tried to talk to you often, calling you up in his room for absolutely no reason. Sometimes to help him tie his tie, or other times to steam his suits. He liked having you around, but he also knew that you would never see him in that light, given who he is.

But despite that, he wasn’t going to give up. He wanted you. Needed you. Craved you. Desperately. He needed you in ways he hadn’t thought were humanly possible. He wanted you in his arms, preferably without the black uniform and little white apron you wore each day. He wanted you in his bed, naked and lying on his sheets as he shows you how well he can treat you. Oh he would treat you like a queen.

And now he learnt that you’re out and about with another man. He was pissed. The manager’s response made the mob boss see red. He was almost ready to drive all the way there and punch the fucker you were with in the face and drag you to his home.

But no, he wouldn’t do that. So you were out clubbing with his rival gang members. Oh he’ll deal with it. “Send me a picture. And follow the guy when he leaves. Also make sure Y/N doesn’t leave with him, you hear me?” he barked on the phone.

“Yes boss.”

-end of flashback-

 “Because you’re mine.” he said it in an authoritative tone which both angered, and excited you. It was a confusing feeling, but you didn’t hate it entirely.

“Excuse m-,”

He cut you off by grabbing you by the waist with one arm and pulling you into him. “You heard me. Now answer me babygirl, why were you with this guy last night?”

Babygirl? Oh the audacity of this drop dead gorgeous man…

“With all due respect sir, my personal life is none of your business.” You sounded less confident than you intended to and it make Sebastian smirk.

“Oh?” he asked, amused. “Is that how it is now?” he pressed your body further into his, allowing you to feel that hard muscles of his tones body along with his body heat. “You’re gonna talk back to me?” he leaned in and nuzzled your cheek, making your heart race, “Disrespect me?” he chuckled right in your ear before pressing a kiss on the shell of your ear. You shivered at his voice.

“I don’t-,”

He cut you off again by pulling away and looking into your eyes. His stare was intense and hot, and so distracting that you didn’t realize his hand was making its way under your skirt. “You dare talk back to me?” he sounded amused, his hand reached further up your inner thigh and you shivered under his touch, “Even when you’ve been out and about, being a little whore,” he whispered, “with my rivals?”

You gasped at his choice of words, and how his fingers gently stroked along your clothed core. Where was this coming from? You also gasped at how you liked it. “I… I didn’t know.” you mumbled as you tried to hold back a moan which threatened to escape your lips due to his salacious actions.

He chuckled, applying the slightest bit of pressure against your throbbing clit and he noticed how you squirmed in front of him. “But now you do. And I’m gonna make sure that you remember from now on that you,” he leaned closer, his lips brushing against yours, “belong to me.”

You felt hazy as he pulled away from you just a couple of inches. Your heart pounded. Your body was on fire, your mind only being able to focus on only one thing – him. His mouth. His body heat. You wanted him closer all of a sudden. So close that you almost began leaning into his touch even more.

You hadn’t realized that the palms of your hands were pressed against his chest. He felt warm, and muscular. Fuck…

“Kneel.” He simply said and you were immediately in a trance. You lowered down on the carpeted floor instantly, on your knees. Sebastian just smirked and caressed your cheek gently. “I want your mouth around me. Come on, make me cum.”

That damn authoritative and powerful tone sent shivers down your spine. You quickly undid his zipper and pulled down his briefs. His hard cock stood proud and tall in front of you. Your mouth watered shamelessly at the sight of it. Thick and big, you realized you wanted him just as much.

He was bigger than any one of your past partners, and that excited you. Your hands instinctively wrapped around his length and you placed the tip against your lips, kissing it and feeling the pre cum coating your lips. You pushed your mouth against it, taking in the tip and swirling your tongue around him.

He groaned, his hand holding your head and guiding you further down his cock. You took him in your mouth slowly, inch by inch; his raw taste drove you crazy. And so did the sounds which left his mouth. Sebastian slid his hand through your slightly messy hair and gently guided your mouth up and down his cock; while slowly sipping on his liquor at the same time.

You bobbed your head around his tip a few more times and soon, he came in your mouth; sending his seeds down your throat. You swallowed whatever he gave you, and stood up after you did so.

He gripped your hips tightly as he dipped his head into the crook of his neck. His hand slipped under your skirt again and he dragged your underwear down your thighs. He placed his fingers against you and rubbed your wet folds again. You couldn’t help but moan, desperate for his touch despite this whole situation being wrong.

“Hmm. You did good, babygirl.” he whispered along your collar bones as he licked and bit the skin; leaving marks behind. Claiming his territory like he always wanted to. “But I’m not quite done with you yet.” He sounded mischievous.

He lifted his glass up to your lips. Still hazy and heart pounding, you parted your lips slightly as he tilted the glass at your lips and let some of the liquor into your mouth. You immediately liked the taste, it burned just a little as you swallowed. However he smirked and tilted the glass more than he should, and the contents went over the lip and down the sides of your mouth – dripping down your chin, your neck and your somewhat exposed chest which was making him go crazy as it is.

“Oh,” he pointed out, pretending as though all that wasn’t down on purpose, “Such a messy girl.” He sighed dramatically while undoing your apron, followed by the zip at the back of your uniform, “Now I have to clean you up.” He looked into your eyes and smirked.

You caught the naughtiness in his eyes. And next thing you knew, you were being pushed back onto his bed; half naked already. “Lay down for me sweetheart.” He ordered and you hesitated for a moment.

“Should we-,”

He cut you off by holding your jaw gently in his grasp. “Shh.” He let go of your face and leaned in to kiss your lips. His tongue gently stroking your lower lip, gathering the liquor which dripped earlier. Then his mouth trailed downwards, kissing your neck, your collar bones down to your breasts – licking and kissing and leaving behind his marks on your skin.

Your body felt hot. Burning under him as he took his time and kissed every inch of your skin. “I’ve always wondered,” he spoke up as he pressed kisses down your chest, “how sweet you must taste. And now look,” he chuckled as he kissed further down, “I get to figure it out finally.”

Maybe it was the sound of his deep voice laced with lust, or maybe it was the confession about how he thinks about you in such an intimate way; regardless, it only fueled the fire deep within you. Supporting yourself up on your elbows, you looked down at him all settled and ready in between your legs. Then you saw the shift in his eyes.

He was all cocky a second ago, but now he was feral. His fingers found their way in between your legs as well, carefully parting your wet folds before slipping inside you. Your body welcomed him in with ease.

Then his following question made your heart race. “Did he touch like this last night?”

You widened your eyes. Does he think that you slept with the guy? “What, no. I-,”

Sebastian leaned in again, and hissed in your ear. “He better not have. Else he won’t live to see another day, babygirl.” His fingers stroked you gently. “You should know, I don’t like sharing. Especially not my girl.”

Fuck… he was messing with your head so easily and wonderfully, and you were letting him.

Sebastian smirked, speeding up and finger-fucking you faster. You whined and squirmed but you wanted more. Oh you wanted more.

You threw your head back and whined loudly, your body betraying you as you felt your walls clench around his fingers. He smirked. “Oh? You wanna cum, is that it?” he leaned in closer, whispering against your mouth, “You want it so bad, don’t you baby?” he teased; chuckling darkly.

You moaned, and whined and tried your hardest to keep quiet but you ended up being loud anyways. His touch, his stare, his words… his cold rings pressing against your hot body each time he pushed his fingers deeper inside of you.

You wanted more. And he knew. “Look at you,” he whispered in awe, kissing along your jaw and biting down on your skin occasionally as his fingers took you higher…and higher, “So perfect… and all mine.” he bit down on your neck as you squirmed; wanting so desperately to crush his arrogance at once, but also wanting him to dominate you. “Cum for me. Now.”

You let go, allowing the warmth to take over you. Releasing and savoring the sweet pressure in between your legs and you came with a strained cry all over his fingers; coating them with your arousal and making his bite his lip and swear at the sight of you so… disheveled.

Your underwear was off, your bra unhooked, your little black uniform on his bedroom floor and your almost naked body on his bed sheets – this was all Sebastian’s ever dreamt of. This moment right here, and now that he had you; he wasn’t going to be easy on you.

“You’re mine.” he repeated. You were still recovering from your previous orgasm that you didn’t realize his mouth was on you again. Closer. Hotter. And determined to make you cum again, his mouth latched on to your core, the lower half of his face completely submerged in between your folds.

You moaned out loud, involuntarily, as you felt his warm mouth on top of your dripping core. His tongue slipped past your folds and teased your entrance; occasionally flicking your sensitive bud mercilessly. Your hands immediately gripped his hair and tugged gently at his roots. Wet sounds erupted from where his mouth latched on to your core, “You taste so good, babygirl.”

You whimpered under his touch, feeling his beard rubbing against your soft skin; it burned a little, but you enjoyed each and every second of it and craved for more. His mouth felt good. So good that you wanted more and more with each passing second.

“Fuck…” you moaned out loud as your back arched off the cool satin sheets for just a moment, your eyes closing and your head leaning back as you felt a wave of intense pleasure wash over you. Intense and hot, just like his touch. He was taking over you and you were letting him yet again. He was hard to resist, you knew that since day one.

“You’re gonna cum for me, is that it, hmm?” he whispered and got back to teasing your clit with his warm and wet tongue; relishing your taste.

“Please, please….” You murmured. He chuckled, his warm breath fanning your wet folds.

“Come on now, ask nicely.” He whispered, biting down on your hip bone before kissing his way back to your clit.

Your eyes flew shut and you whined, and begged – not caring if you sounded coherent or not. Once satisfied, Sebastian got back to eating you out like there was no tomorrow. The pressure in between your legs was building up nicely as well. So with a few more strokes of his skilled tongue, you let go and gushed out all over his face; your eyes watering.

He didn’t stop, he kept at it while your orgasm washed over you; lapping up whatever you gave him. He couldn’t get enough of you. He licked you clean and kissed your thighs a few more times before finally standing up, admiring how much of a mess you were; panting, and trembling just with his tongue.

“So fucking beautiful,” he whispered, looking down at you. He had that same feral look in his eyes, the desire unhidden. Shameless, and raw. Passionate. He wanted you and he wasn’t hiding it. He wanted to own you. Ruin you in the best way possible. “Get on your hands and knees. Now.” he ordered and proceed to finish his drink before he was onto you again.

Discarding his expensive suit, lifting your hips up and securing an arm around you; you knelt in front of him on the bed, legs spread apart, hands gripping the sheets while your back faced him. You couldn’t see him, but you knew he was there – right behind you. Plotting all the ways in which he could play with you.

Sebastian trailed a finger lazily up your spine before sliding his fingers into your hair. He gripped your hair gently, and pulled back just enough so he got your full attention. His lips hovered over the side of your throat and his other hand reached around and toyed with your folds; his fingers furiously rubbed the skin around your clit and making you tremble.

You could feel his warm skin, and his hard on pressing against your butt. And your heart raced in anticipation.

“You’re gonna take me nice and good, aren’t you baby?” his voice was deep and gravelly when he spoke in your ear, his tongue licking along your neck while he abruptly stopped toying with your folds. You whined and nodded, unable to hide the fact that you wanted him bad. So bad.

His hand gripped your hair and tugged on it, harsher than earlier and his action elicited an involuntary moan out of you. “Good girl.” He noted and gripped the sides of your hips tighter. He pushed into you without a word said; earning a sinful moan out of you. You were all wet and ready for him, and he slipped inside you with ease.

He groaned and grunted as he filled you up entirely; your ass cheek pressing into his pelvic bone as he buried his cock into you. Your knuckles gripped the sheets tightly, and your head lowered as your felt the familiar pressure forming again in no time, given you were already so sensitive and sore from before.

You were barely able to keep yourself up, and if it weren’t for his tight grip on you, you would’ve collapsed on the bed long ago.

“So fucking good… you’re all mine…” Sebastian spoke in a haze, and you barely heard him as the only thing you focused on was the sounds your bodies made when in contact with one another; along with your whimpers and his incoherent words. The air around you smelt of sex, sweat and Sebastian’s cologne.

He pounded into you like his life depended on it. Stretching you out and filling you up each time he rammed his cock into your entrance. You moaned, worn-out and still craving more and more of him. You could feel the soreness his touch would leave behind, and the bite on your neck, and all of the other marks he left on your skin.

With a few more strokes of his thick cock, you felt his felt his cock throb against your walls. You tightened around him, feeling your orgasm so close that you could almost feel it taking over you. But just as you were right on the edge, he pulled out and flipped you around. His rough manner of handling your body turned you on even more.

He smirked when he saw the look of surprise on your face. “Can’t give it to you that easily now, can we?” he chuckled. “I want you to beg for it.” He parted your legs, and settled in between them again, his cock slipping inside you once again. “Beg for me.”

His mouth soon found yours and he nibbled on your bottom lip and you let out ragged breaths. He was taking over all your senses and you were more than happy to surrender to him. While he fucked you raw, his hand moved up to your throat again. His fingers wrapped around your throat and forced you to open your eyes and look into his. “I said,” he growled, “beg.”

A thin layer of sweat formed on his face, as he fucked you relentlessly; earning more and more moans out of you each time his cock stroked your walls. Your lips parted as you gasped. “Sir please… please make me cum…” you whined, “I need you-,” you cut yourself off, moaning wantonly as he filled you up nicely.

He grunted and moaned shamelessly right in your ear and the sound sent shivers down your back. Your legs started to shake as he quickened his pace. He pounded into you incessantly. You could feel the headboard knocking against his bedroom wall, and the sound echoing around the room, along with your moans and his growls.

“Are you gonna cum? Do you deserve it, huh?” he mocked you, his hand reaching up and grabbing your jaw tightly in his grasp. “Look at me, babygirl.” He urged you to focus on him, despite knowing that you were barely able to concentrate on anything other than how well he was fucking you.

You stared into his eyes; tears escaping your eyes, lips swollen and bruised, neck littered with his bite marks, and your eyes just as wild and passionate as his. “Are you gonna remember now? That you belong to me?” He stayed still inside you for a moment, letting you feel just how big he was. You whined and groaned as he stretched you out like no one ever did. “That you’re all mine?” he growled.

“Yes… yes, sir.” You mumbled, pleading him with your eyes. Begging him to let you cum.

Sebastian saw the desperation in your eyes. The silent plea. He knew you wouldn’t be able to take it any longer. But he had to make himself clear. “Tell me, who do you belong to? Hmm?”

“You.” you gasped. Please…

You felt like you were losing your mind. The pleasure was too much and you couldn’t hold back anymore. So, you gushed out around his cock; moaning and squirming in the process. He moaned out loud when he felt your walls pulsating violently around him. His thrusts became irregular as he came right after you, filling you up again.  

He didn’t pull out. He just kept his throbbing cock carefully buried in you as he lowered his face and pushed it into the crook of your neck. Both of you panting and wondering; what the hell just happened, and how did it escalate this quickly.

You recovered and tried to move, but failed miserably. Sebastian noticed and smirked to himself despite the fatigue.

“Come here,” he spoke gently pulled you into him. You settled in comfortably into his side, surprisingly. His body was warm, and he smelt familiar. “Get some sleep. I know you’re tired.”

You widened your eyes and looked up at him. He smiled and reached out to caress your cheek. “Sorry if I hurt you. I- I can’t see you with someone else.” He repeated again, “You’re mine.”

You sighed. “I work for you.” you pointed out wearily.

He scoffed. “Then congrats, you’re fired.” He said it like it was nothing. You sighed and tried to scoot away but his grip was strong. “Hey, I’m serious.” He argued. “Stay, don’t go.” He pleaded.

You were too weak and worn out to move anyways, besides his bed was comfy so you stayed. You were quiet for a minute then you spoke up. “What happens now?” you asked.

He chuckled, and his tiredness could be heard. “Now I ask you out, and you say yes. And we live happily ever after.” He answered.

You rolled your eyes. “And my job?”

“Baby, I have enough money to last us a couple of lifetimes.”

“I refuse to be dependent on you. And certainly not a burden.” You sounded tired too.

“None of that. You’ll be my queen.”

You snuggled closer to his warm body as he covered your naked body carefully with the soft blanket. “You’re so bossy. And controlling. And mean.” You mumbled, half-way asleep.

He gave you a sleepy chuckle. “Yeah but you like me. And don’t you dare lie, I’ve seen the way you look at me.” He argued.

You chuckled faintly, eyes closing on their own. “Bossy and controlling and mean, but handsome.” You corrected yourself.

“Hmm.” He liked how he was right. “Now go to sleep babygirl, I’ll be here when you wake up.” He leaned down and gave you a kiss on the forehead, and whispered, “I’m gonna place the world at your feet if you just ask for it. Don’t you worry about a thing, angel. You’re mine now, everything will be alright.”

At last, his girl was finally here with him. Totally, and entirely his.

 ---

a/n: thank you for 14K followers Sin Army! I love you guys so much. I’ll add the tag lists tomorrow I promise ;) 

[the-scandalorian]

Tempered Glass: Chapter 7

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader Rating: M (will become explicit) Word Count: 5.5k Warnings: slow burn, canon-typical violence, cursing, pining, Din in suspenders, fluff Summary: Din takes a job with his old crew, and you and the kid wait for him on Arvala-7. Notes: Sorry this took me forever!

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Image from The Art of Star Wars: The Mandalorian

After you left the atmosphere of Tatooine and jumped into hyperspace, Din swiveled his chair around to face you in the copilot’s seat.

“I should take a job. Everything we made went to Peli, and I don’t like being low on credits. There’s a crew I used to run with...I can reach out to them...” he hesitated then added, “but you and the kid can’t come with me.”

“What do you mean I can’t come with you?”

He sighed, shoulders dropping. “I mean, I don’t trust them enough for you and the kid to come.”

“If you don’t trust them, wouldn’t it be better to have backup?”

“I just—,” he looked away, “I don’t want them to know either of you exist.”

“If you don’t trust them, should you be taking a job with them?”

“We don’t have a lot of options.”

“I could get work somewhere. We could go somewhere safe enough for a few weeks. There are some places where I have contacts, and non-bounty hunting work is usually less conspicuous.”

“I don’t think we should stay anywhere that long right now.”

“But—”

“I’ll feel better if you and the kid are safe together.”

“I—”

When he bowed his head in a silent appeal, your determination crumbled.

“Ugh, fine.”

He sighed in relief, reaching out to rest his hand on your knee briefly. His touch was reassuring.

“But, just so you know, this is only going to work once, so don’t think that my staying back with the kid is going to be a regular thing.”

He removed his hand and turned back around to face the viewport.

“I am taking your silence as tacit agreement,” you said to the back of his helmet.

He chose to ignore that, fiddling with the controls instead.

***

Now that you’d both admitted you wanted to stay together, abandoning the pretense of strategy and convenience all together, things were a little off between you and Din. Neither of you were used to being vulnerable, so conversations were slightly stunted again. You found yourself being overly polite, and Din was doing the same.

That first night back on the Crest, he offered you his bunk.

“I’m not taking your bed. You need it to take off your helmet.”

Besides the unshakable lingering chill of the hull, sleeping there wasn’t that bad. You usually slept with every sweater you owned on and that kept you warm enough.

“Use it when I’m not. You shouldn't have to sleep on the floor.”

“Sure, thanks,” you agreed, knowing you’d never take him up on that. You didn’t want to be on a different sleep schedule than he and the kid.

You did try to nap with the kid in Din’s bunk the next day because there wasn’t all that much to do in hyperspace. As soon as you lay down, though, you knew it was a mistake. First of all, it was crazy uncomfortable (somehow not better than the literal floor and the close walls made it slightly claustrophobic), and second—and far more importantly—it smelled overwhelmingly like Din. It smelled like his pine-y soap and beskar and blaster residue and leather and whatever else made up his infuriatingly good scent. It conjured images of crackling fires and golden skin and warm embraces and taut muscles.

Shit.

There was no chance you were going to be able to fall sleep when all you could think about was him.

The kid, on the other hand, was snoozing contentedly beside you. When you’d fully given up on napping, you edged your way out the bunk carefully, doing your best not to wake him.

Din was sitting in the hull on a long crate against the wall, cleaning his blaster, the pieces spread out next to him. Usually, when you were in the hull at the same time, you’d find a place across from him. Instead, you purposefully sat next to him, drawing your knees up to your chest and leaning against the wall.

You decided you were going to push through this awkward phase and make things not weird right there, right then. And you were going to do that the best way you knew how.

He tilted his helmet toward you momentarily then refocused on the blaster in his hand.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yes,” he said, running a rag along the barrel.

“How does one develop a catchphrase? Does it happen organically or is there an iterative brainstorming process?”

Din paused, sighing dramatically, set his blaster and the rag down next to him, and pushed himself back until he was also leaning against the metal wall. His helmet clunked slightly as he relaxed it back. “This is the way is not a catchphrase. It’s a tenet of the Creed.”

“And ‘I can bring you in warm or I can bring you in cold’ is also a tenet of the Creed?”

He lolled his helmet to the side, looking down at you. “Okay, fine, that one isn’t,” he conceded.

“So you admit it—you have at least one catchphrase that you regularly use on bounties.” You smirked up at him.

Without missing a beat, Din fixed you with that unreadable visor and quipped: “I’ve been told I have a sexy voice. I’m just giving the people what they want.”

Your jaw dropped, a shocked laugh echoing through the hull. You had planned on teasing him and had not expected him to turn it around on you so smoothly.

“Uh... I was sort of hoping we’d stick to our unspoken agreement to not bring up the stupid things I said when I was drunk.” You looked down at your hands, suddenly unable to meet his gaze.

“Oh, definitely not.”

You looked back up. “Alright, well then in the name of fairness, we’re going to have to get you really drunk the next time the opportunity presents itself, so we can see what embarrassing things you say.”

He paused for a moment, considering, then said, “Does that mean you’ll carry me home?”

You cracked a smile, nodding vigorously. “Of course. That would only be fair.”

A warm laugh rasped through the modulator. You crossed your ankles in front of you, letting your knee rest against the cold beskar on this thigh.

“I feel skeptical of that promise.” He dropped a gloved hand to your knee.

“Okay, okay I can’t promise to carry you home, but I can promise to tie your shoe if needed.”

“My boots don’t have laces.” He lifted a foot off the ground to show you.

You shrugged playfully: “Well, that’s not my fault.”

“This doesn’t sound like a very good deal for me. I tied your shoe and carried you home.”

“To be fair, both were against my will.”

“But necessary.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Okay, okay, I can’t carry you, and I can’t tie your shoe... so I’ll...,” you bit your lip as you fished around for something else to offer, “...hold your hand? And not let anyone tickle you.”

He huffed and rubbed his thumb over your knee: “I’m not ticklish.”

You pursed your lips. “Right, sure, of course not. My mistake.”

He harrumphed. “Can I ask you something now?”

“I’ll allow it,” you intoned seriously.

“Where are you actually from?”

“Naboo. Most of my back story was true—I just left out the one major detail.”

“Your favorite color?” he deadpanned.

You laughed. “Yes, exactly. What about you? Where are you from?”

“Aq Vetina.”

You waited, hoping he’d elaborate.

“When my parents died there, I was rescued by the Mandalorians and raised in the Fighting Corps.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, placing your hand over his and squeezing gently. “That sounds like a tough life for a child.”

“It was all I knew,” he explained, shifting slightly.

“Still, that can’t have been easy. It makes sense that you couldn’t leave the kid.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly, solemnly. There was a tension in his shoulders that hadn’t been there moments ago.

“Less serious question,” you replied, changing the subject to something lighter.

“Okay.” He relaxed a little.

“Why don’t you ever use a straw to drink with your helmet on?”

“These are the things you think about?” he laughed. His laugh was usually a quiet, muffled sound through the modulator, but it was getting easier to pick up on it. “There’s a seal on the helmet, otherwise the filters wouldn’t work,” he tapped the release on the side of his head. “So a straw isn’t a possibility, unfortunately.”

“Mmm,” you responded, “that is disappointing.”

He gripped your thigh lightly, turning toward you. “I, uh, heard back about the job... while you were asleep. It’s a go.”

“Ah... great. I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t hear back.”

“I know. It will be fine.”

“Okay... So, any ideas for where the kid and I should stay?”

To your surprise, Din explained that he had a trusted friend on Arvala-7. When you agreed to the plan, he disappeared to the cockpit to set the nav—a two-day trip.

***

That same evening, you discovered a new favorite activity on the Crest. Before bed, the kid was being particularly fussy, so you pulled out your data pad and downloaded the first children’s book you could find. It worked liked a charm.

From then on, it became a daily routine: you’d read to him until his eyelids drooped before his nap and before bedtime. Regardless of his mood, listening to you read seemed to soothe him. You’d pull him into your lap and settle onto your stack of blankets against the wall. He’d watch your face, enraptured, as you relayed story after story to him. His favorite—the story that elicited the most chirps and grabby motions and ear wiggles—centered on a family of frogs. You revisited that one at least once a day, sometimes more if he was grouchy.

You weren’t sure how to feel about his hyperfixation on that particular story given his appetite for frogs.

At this rate, your digital library was going to be largely children’s books. You didn’t mind.

You noticed that Din would find something to do in the hull while you read. The first couple times, he sat and cleaned one of his many weapons or sewed a hole in his flight suit. Very quickly, he stopped bothering with an ostensible task and would just sit and listen.

When you were still 15 hours out from Arvala-7, Din was seated on his usual crate in the hull, the one next to the weapons cabinet, as you finished the final page of a particularly thrilling story about a snail. The kid was snoring softly in your arms, so you clicked off your datapad, and got up to settle him in his hammock for his mid-day nap.

“You’re good with him.” Din was leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.

“I guess,” you shrugged, snapping the door to Din’s bunk shut and turning back to him. “I just think about what I liked as a kid. I loved when my parents would read to me.”

He nodded, helmet trained on the floor between his boots.

“I’m sorry—” you started, realizing how that must have sounded to Din.

He looked up and cut you off. “Don’t be. It’s nice for him to have some normal kid experiences.”

“You know what he’d really love?”

“What?”

“If you read to him.”

He dipped his helmet slightly in acknowledgement, rolling his shoulders back at the same time like he was uncomfortable agreeing with that.

Several hours later, you pulled Din down next to you in your normal pre-bedtime story time spot. He had the kid in his arms. You switched on your datapad and toggled through the catalog of books you’d downloaded, all of which had colorful covers and silly, whimsical titles, until you found the frog book.

“Here,” you offered, passing it over to him.

You leaned your head back against the wall and closed your eyes, listening to Din’s serious, even voice narrate the heartwarming hijinks of a family of frogs. The kid cooed and babbled along.

To your (and the kid’s) utter delight, Din’s rendition slowly evolved into a full-on dramatic reading, complete with sound effects and slightly different voices for each character, as he leaned into whatever prompted the most enthusiastic responses from the kid. You kept your eyes closed and said nothing, worried that if you drew attention to this new development, he’d get self-conscious and stop. You couldn’t help from smiling a little though.

When the story came to its conclusion, you opened your eyes. Din was scrolling through the library of options, browsing for the next book. “What do you think? Which one next?” You looked at him, but he wasn’t asking you. The kid let out a string of gibberish, pointing with a teeny finger. Din read out the titles of several options, selecting the one that triggered the most animated trill.

As Din began the story, he shifted until his body was flush with yours. The places where his beskar made contact with you were cold, even through the fabric of your clothes, but you didn’t mind.

By the time Din finished the second book, the kid was displaying the telltale signs—drooping ears and unfocused eyes—that bedtime had arrived.

Din handed you the datapad and stood to tuck the kid into bed.

As he shut the door to his bunk, you said, “I think you just put me out of a job.”

He scoffed, but you could tell he was pleased.

***

As you got more comfortable around each other, Din took to walking around without his armor—beside his helmet—on. Most of the time, he’d even leave his gloves off. He wore either a flight suit that zipped up the middle or a black shirt and pants...with suspenders. The first few times, it was jarring to see him like that, without his armor. He looked wrong. It was like seeing a turtle without its shell... but if turtles were sexy.

The first time he emerged from his bunk with the suspenders hanging loosely by his sides, you stopped dead, mouth hanging open. He tilted his helmet sharply at you: “What?”

“You sometimes wear suspenders under your armor?”

“...Yes?”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you and the goofy grin that spread across your face.

“What?” he prompted again, shoulders pulling up toward his neck.

“I just really wasn’t expecting that,” you laughed.

“What were you expecting?” The playful note in his voice left you flustered. He took a step closer, much more relaxed now that he was the one doing the teasing. He was getting too good at flipping things on you.

Instead of answering—because you were not about to address the fact that you had absolutely thought about what he wore under his armor—you strode up to him and pulled the suspenders over his shoulders. He stood uncomfortably still, arms hanging awkwardly by his sides.

“What are you doing?” He looked down at his shirt then back up at you.

“I just want to get the full picture.” You looked him up and down.

“Thought about this a lot, have you?” He quirked his helmet down at you suggestively. It was only the second time you’d gotten that particular flavor of head tilt, and you...didn’t hate it. It made your neck feel hot. You disregarded the intense desire to grab him by the suspenders and jerk him toward you.

Instead, you narrowed your eyes at him, enjoying this new bold flirtation. Without looking away from his visor, you hooked a finger through one of the suspenders and pulled it out a couple inches, letting it snap back against him.

“Ow.” He stated it so matter-of-factly that it obviously hadn’t hurt, but for dramatic effect, he rubbed the spot on his chest where it hit him.

“You’ll survive,” you assured him, patting his shoulder and brushing past him to climb the ladder to the cockpit. When you sat down in the pilot’s seat and kicked your feet up to rest on the console, you still had a smile on your face.

***

A few hours later, you were seated in the copilot seat with the child held tightly in your lap as the Razor Crest descended through the atmosphere of Arvala-7. On the way, Din shared how he’d met this friend—he had helped Din when he was originally tracking down the child months ago.

However, when you asked what his friend’s name was, Din said he didn’t know. Honestly, you weren’t even that surprised. Just exasperated.

Din told you the details of when he tracked down the child, including the assassin droid he'd crossed paths with. He explained how he’d teamed up with IG-11, but in the end, he had to destroy the droid to protect the kid. The anger in his voice was raw when he described watching IG-11 point his blaster at the child.

As the dusty, cracked surface of the planet came into view, you asked, “Is that what caused your thing with droids?”

“What thing?”

“Din.”

He was silent for a long moment.

“Droids destroyed my home planet, killed my parents. They’re the reason I was a foundling as a child.”

His words washed over you, and your heart dropped. You leaned forward in your seat to put a hand on his shoulder. He stayed perfectly still, helmet trained on the controls in front of him.

“I’m sorry.”

He nodded stiffly and reached up to squeeze your hand briefly.

“We’re about to land.”

You took that as a cue to drop the subject for now.

***

You and Din, the kid in his arms, approached a small collection of low structures. You swept your eyes across the uniform landscape—all was dry and sienna and flat. The Ugnaught’s homestead was the only sign of habitation in sight. The buildings were brown and domed, and windmills creaked slowly in the warm breeze. Three blurrgs in a large corral watched you balefully.

“Mandalorian!” the Ugnaught greeted, emerging from the door of his low home.

“Ugnaught,” Din replied with a nod.

“I did not think I would see you here again. What business brings you back to Arvala-7?”

“I was hoping that my friends could stay with you for a couple nights—I’ll pay you for the lodging.”

Of course he'd refer to me and a literal infant as his "friends."

You introduced yourself, offering your hand.

The Ugnaught bowed his head slightly as he clasped your hand: “It is nice to make your acquaintance. I am Kuill.”

At least Din knows his name now.

Kuill turned back to Din. “The child remains in your care,” he observed.

“Yes,” said Din, offering no explanation. He set the child down on the ground, and he toddled his way slowly over to Kuill.

Kuill scooped up the baby, and he chirruped happily, reaching toward his whiskery mustache.

“It hasn’t grown much.”

“I think it might be a Strand-Cast.”

You shot Din a skeptical look. He’d never shared this particular theory of his with you.

“I don’t think it was engineered. I’ve worked in the gene farms. This one looks evolved. Too ugly,” mused Kuill.

You raised your eyebrows at the frankness of his statement. He is not ugly.

“Your friends are welcome to stay with me. No payment will be necessary. I have spoken.” Kuill turned and headed back inside without so much as a backward glance.

“I insist,” Din said to his back.

Kuill disappeared into his home.

Din turned to you: “He does that. Just ends a conversation like that.”

“I understand why the two of you get along so well. Men of few words.” You raised an eyebrow at him.

Din nodded, reinforcing your point inadvertently.

You and Din stepped closer to each other at the same time. For the first time, you let the concern you were feeling color your features.

“I’ll be back in three days, if not sooner.”

He was padding his timeline in response to the worry that was etched across your face. You knew Din could defend himself—that wasn’t your fear. It was that, whether he liked to admit it or not, he occasionally let trust blind him. The irony of that wasn’t lost on you, considering how long it had taken for him to trust you. This was the trademark paradox of Din. He was loath to fully let people in, but he had a tendency to take people at face value and assume they would keep their word—because he always kept his word. He had a surprisingly generous worldview for someone with such a violent profession and brutal past.

Din reached down to grab something small that was tucked in his belt—the metal ball from one of the controls in the cockpit that the kid loved to play with. He occasionally pretended to be irritated whenever he wanted to play with it, but you knew he found it endearing.

He handed it to you. “He’ll want that.”

You smiled and nodded, looking at the sphere in your palm. Din raised a hand to your chin and tilted your face back up to his.

Do we... hug? He doesn’t seem like a hugger.

So instead, you offered, “Be careful, okay?”

“I will,” he promised. He stayed there for a moment longer, looking at you and rubbing his thumb along your cheek. Before you could decide if you should also try to hug him, he turned abruptly to walk back to the Crest.

You stayed and watched him as he walked the distance back to the ship and disappeared up the ramp. You stayed and watched as the Razor Crest rumbled to life and took off. You stayed and watched as it ascended through the atmosphere and vanished from view.

***

It was a relief to be off the ship for a few days—even if Arvala-7 wasn’t exactly your ideal planet. It would be a treat to eat real food, instead of shelf-stable ration packs, and to have more than the limited space of the ship to move around in... not to mention an actual bed.

Kuill was a kind and welcoming host. He offered you his spare room, where you placed your things, and you sat down for tea together in his small kitchen.

“How did you come to be in the company of the Mandalorian and the child?”

“I guess he has a soft spot for people who are wanted by the Empire?” you chuckled, and Kuill nodded somberly. “Now, we’re just helping each other out.” You weren’t really sure how else to explain it.

Kuill didn’t press you anymore than that, nodding sagely. Instead, while you sipped your tea with the kid on your lap, he told you about his background—decades of indentured servitude to the Empire before he worked off his debt and bought his freedom—in the solemn, frugal way that was clearly characteristic of the Ugnaught. You understood why Din trusted him: he was forthright, calm, wise.

“What can I help you with while I’m here?” you asked, already anxious to find something to occupy your time.

“You are my guest. You do not need to do any work.”

“I would be happy to,” you insisted. “I would rather be busy. I can help with cleaning or repairs—whatever you need. My formal training was in programming, but I’ve picked up general skills along the way.”

Kuill nodded and said, “Come.”

He turned and walked out of his house. You set down your tea on the table and followed him, the child tucked in the crook of your elbow, happily clutching the silver ball. Kuill stopped in front of the workstation that was a short distance from his doorway. Tools and wiring and various speeder parts were arranged on and around a long workbench and a collection of smaller tables and shelves. The circular backdrop of the workbench was the repurposed window of a TIE fighter.

An assassin droid was laid across the tabletop.

“Is this the droid that Mando shot?”

“I believe so, yes. It was left behind, in the Mandalorian’s wake of destruction. I found it lying where it fell—devoid of all life. I recovered the flotsam and staked it as my own in accordance with the Charter of the New Republic. Little remains of its neural harness. Reconstruction will be quite difficult.”

“What are your plans for it?”

“To convert it from an assassin droid to something more useful: a protocol and nurse droid.”

You nodded. “Handy.”

“I will have to reconstruct the neural harness, and then it will have to relearn every function from scratch. It will be a blank slate on which to program something nurturing instead of destructive. You may help me restore him if you would like.”

“Of course.”

The two of you got to work.

***

That night, when you lay down to sleep, you tossed and turned. The child was snuggled in a makeshift crib next to your bed. You found yourself sitting up periodically to check on him. Every time you checked on him, he was sleeping soundly.

Eventually, you slipped out of your bed, tiptoed quietly through the house, and walked out into the cold, clear night. You walked aimlessly for a while, circling the corral of blurrgs. They were asleep, eyes shut tight, standing in a close clump. Then you turned to head out across the open plain and watch the stars through the thin veil of clouds that dusted the sky.

You were starting to regret that you hadn’t pushed harder to go with Din. He was with a whole team of people who sounded untrustworthy at best, malicious at worst. You couldn’t help but think of all the things you should have said to him before he left. You hadn’t even hugged him.

It was freaking you out a little just how attached you were to a man who you’d known for a couple months.

You walked until the chill of the night air became too much, then turned back.

In the morning, you sat at Kuill’s kitchen table again, feeding the child. Kuill moved around the small food prep area, pulling together breakfast and making tea.

You followed Kuill as he went about his daily jobs, caring for the blurrgs, doing routine maintenance, and continuing the work on IG-11.

You were sweating in the sun, hands covered in grease, concentrating on refitting a damaged arm joint when Kuill’s calm voice brought you out of your train of thought.

“It is curious that the Mandalorian elected to keep the child.”

You looked up at him. “He secretly has a soft heart,” you said, smiling to yourself.

“Yes, that much is clear, but he is also set in his beliefs, and this choice went against the Guild Code. What is curious is that such a small being could inspire a change of heart in such a rigid person.”

You considered his words.

“I... think he was just waiting to find a greater purpose than hunting, to find someone to love, you know? It comes naturally to him, but I don’t think he’d ever had the chance.”

Kuill hummed thoughtfully. “Is that not what we are all doing—looking for a greater purpose?”

“I guess?” You shrugged.

“And have you?”

“Have I what?” you asked, wiping a bead of sweat off your forehead.

“Have you found the greater purpose you were looking for?”

You considered for a moment then said, “Well... I found a purpose a long time ago, when I joined the Alliance, and since then, I’ve been too busy trying to escape the wrath of the Empire to really think about what’s next in the larger sense... Staying alive has been the main priority.”

Kuill hummed again, glancing over at the kid. “You weren’t looking for something greater, but it appears to have found you.”

“I...,” you started. You watched the child, who was siting on the hard ground admiring the silver ball clutched in his hand. “I’m not sure.”

“I have spoken,” said Kuill, bowing his head, and he lapsed back into silence.

You watched the kid as he dropped the ball and staggered to his feet, squealing excitedly as he chased a lizard that darted past him. You wondered where Din was at this exact moment, and your heart squeezed in a familiar way.

***

The second night was much like the first. You walked outside for some time, thinking of all the awful things that could be happening to Din.

What if they turn on him?

What if another hunter finds him?

What if he doesn’t come back?

It wasn't a crazy thought. You were used to people not coming back.

Until that moment, you hadn't considered that you'd be the sole guardian of the kid if Din didn't return. For a split second, you felt the crushing weight of responsibility for the life and safety and happiness of the tiny green child that Din must feel at all times.

Eventually you fell into a fitful sleep, waking early, and the day dawned bright and cold. As the sun climbed, the chill rapidly dissipated, making way for a dry heat that seemed to be the only weather condition on Arvala-7.

You spent the morning helping Kuill continue the repairs on IG-11. You did your best to not count the hours that slipped by. He’d said it could take three days, so there was no reason to be concerned yet.

But... did he mean he would return ON the third day? Or the fourth day?

And for that matter... did the day he left count as day one? Or was yesterday day one?

Did he mean seventy-two hours from the time he left? Or that he’d be back at the start of the third day?

How did I not clarify this before he left??

That evening, you were in deep in discussion about artificial intelligence when Kuill said, “I believe your Mandalorian has returned to you.” He pointed behind you, and you whipped around to see the Crest touching down in a cloud of dust in the distance.

“Will you—?” you asked, turning back to Kuill.

“I will watch the child.” He seemed vaguely amused by your enthusiasm.

You sprang to your feet and walked as fast as you could toward the Crest. You briefly considered running, but that felt dramatic. He’d only been gone a couple days.

Why did he land so fucking far away?

You’d made it about half the distance when the ramp of the Crest finally began to lower with a hiss. Your resolve snapped, and you started to jog. Din descended the ramp, and you were so relieved to see him that you weren’t even embarrassed anymore that you were literally running to him.

Din cocked his head—a curious head tilt—when he saw you sprinting at him across the dusty ground. He paused at the bottom of the ramp.

“Are you—?” he started to say as you crashed into his chest and wrapped your arms around him. He barely budged upon impact.

His shoulders relaxed immediately, and he pulled you tight against him.

Well, if he wasn’t a hugger before, he is now.

“I’m okay,” he reassured you.

“Good,” you said into the fabric bunched around his neck.

After a moment, you released him and stepped back, the steadying weight of his hands remaining on your arms. He looked like he was in one piece, but the slight heaviness in his shoulders told you that the job had taken a toll on him.

“I, uh, missed you too,” he said, a little awkwardly.

You smiled at him and took his gloved hand in yours to walk back towards Kuill’s home. You felt slightly giddy that you were casually holding the Mandalorian’s hand. He seemed taken by it too, his helmet tilted down to where your fingers were intertwined.

“The kid?” he asked, looking up to your face.

“He’s good. Misses you, I think. Ate several frogs. And one lizard. The usual. He is disgusting,” you laughed.

Din made a sound that you would almost swear was a snort. “Yeah, he is,” he agreed fondly.

Kuill was waiting outside his home, the child in his arms. When you and Din were close, Kuill set him down, and the baby tottered over to wrap his tiny arms around Din’s calf.

You watched as Din bent stiffly, slowly to pick up the kid.

“You’re hurt,” you realized.

“I'm fine,” he said.

You felt sure that wasn’t true, but you let it be for the moment.

“Thank you,” Din addressed Kuill. He reached into the pouch of his belt for credits.

“I will not accept payment,” Kuill insisted, shaking his head. “In fact, your friend here helped me make great progress on my current project.” Kuill raised his eyebrows at you.

“Very well,” Din acquiesced.

You gathered your things and said your thank yous and goodbyes, returning to the Crest, which—with a jolt—you realized was already starting to feel like home.

***

Chapter 8

***

Taglist: @bbdoyouloveme @beskarhearts @bookloverfilmoholic @elinedjarin @eury-dice3 @dincrypt @dunderr @honey-hi @jagi-yaaa @just-me-and-my-obsessions00 @mbpokemonrulez @red-leaders @speakerforthedead0 @tuskens-mando @spideysimpossiblegirl @theflightytemptressadventure @ubri812 @zoemariefit

If you want to be added or removed, let me know!

[wandering-travesty]

Off To The Races

 Zeke’s life wasn’t supposed to be like this. His father would have a spontaneous brain aneurism if he saw the daily goings on of the younger Yeager’s household on his days off. Horrid amounts of smoking outside, snow or shine, day-drinking without a second thought, and lonely, not by choice. He had honest-to-god tried to live the life his father wanted for him. He married a woman straight out of law school and knocked her up a few months after. They raised that kid for a year then repeated the process. They lived, laughed, and loved for a few years, then, as a surprise to no one, the divorce came along. His wife had run off with a lump sum of money and started a new life out of state. He got left with two kids, substance abuse issues, and a law firm to run. He was stressed, depressed, and by the holiest powers above, was he horny. 

 Ignoring the horniness for a moment, everything changed when you came around. Every inch of his world brightened, almost like a light at the end of a tunnel. You gave him some form of hope, and reminded him that life wasn’t all doom and gloom. You were still in college, looking for some extra funds to help pay your tuition; a lawyer that doubled as a father of two was the perfect target. You had shown up in your prettiest outfit, almost as if you were showing off for him. Being the kind of man he was, Zeke couldn’t help but hire you. Some sweet, fetching little thing coming up to his decadent doorstep in a tiny little tennis skirt and begging to take care of his kids? That was something he could never turn away. 

 So, you became the official caretaker of Zeke’s little angels. You truly adored looking after them while their, admittedly handsome, father slaved away at his big, important law firm. You rang the doorbell right as the kids were waking up, Zeke greeting you at the door already dressed in one of his repulsively expensive suits. You talked over scones and coffee and made the kids just about anything they wanted. He would leave, and you would get the kids dressed and out the door with ample time to catch the bus. You’d clean the house, make yourself some lunch, play with the family dog. The golden retriever was just another cliche. But you still loved the mutt, especially since every family member loved him, too. You could tell because Zeke had named him after some long-dead baseball player, meaning he would be enamoured with the thing no matter what.  

 It was fun, picking up on little details about Zeke, or Mr. Yeager, as you called him. He loved baseball and would talk about it for hours on end if you let him, and he hated strawberry icecream for some unexplained reason. He was the face of success for his entire life, from being a star pitcher on his little league team back home to captain of the debate team in high school; he had never really failed at anything or gotten robbed of what he wanted. He was a winner in everything he had ever tried. He had mentioned how high-strung his parents were, and how they’d gone through a divorce of their own when he was young. He and his step-brother never got along that well, and had actually turned out to be very different people. His family life was anything but smooth, and he feared his kids would look back on their childhood in the same light. You guessed that’s why tonight was happening. 

 “Alright, I’m entrusting my children, dog, house, and painfully expensive belongings to you for the night.” He was dressed to the nines, hell, the tens. He wore an umber sport coat, mustard turtleneck sweater, a thick black belt, grey slacks, chestnut oxfords, and the most expensive golden watch you had ever seen. His flaxen hair shined perfectly in the low light of the entranceway; it was official: you wanted to fuck him. Rather, you wanted him to fuck you. You wanted him to fuck you stupid and make you squirt all over that pretty watch, and his even prettier face. 

 “I’ve got it covered, Mr. Yeager.” His youngest son wrapped his arms around your legs as the dog rubbed his head into your palm. “Knock ‘er dead!” You gave him your cheesiest smile and thumbs up. He chuckled at you as his eldest son grabbed your free hand. 

 “You’ve got this, Dad!” He cheered, starting to drag you to the living room. 

 “Thank you, Atticus. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He gave a weak smile, turning to leave through the large oak door. It was awful, how badly he wanted to stay there with you and the kids. He wanted to chase Atticus down the hall as the rest of you ran after him, laughing all the way. He wanted to put on some old, boring movie only he wanted to watch and feel your breath on his neck as you fell asleep just after the kids and dog sitting on the floor below you. He wanted to feel your warmth in his bed. He wanted to see what you looked like backed up against a wall. Heaving after an especially passionate kiss. With your legs over your head, screaming his name. The sweat dripping down your face as you came undone beneath him. The little whimpers you’d make as he pulled out of you and cradled you in his arms. He wanted you, not this random woman off of some shitty dating site. He didn’t really want the booze, or the men, or the women, or the money, or the white picket fence, or his father’s approval; he just wanted - no - he needed you. Your game of cat and mouse, seeing which playful “sweetheart” or coy little “Mr. Yeager” would be the one to tip you over the edge of more than friends.  

 “Zeke? That’s you, right?” The tall blonde woman in a sleek black suit walked towards him with an outstretched hand. She could’ve easily been a full foot taller than him. Interesting.

 “Yes. Yelena, correct?” But she wasn’t you. He just wanted to get this night of false wining and dining over with so he could come home to you. You in his big, expensive house. Better yet, his big, expensive bed.

 - 

 You sat and watched the clock after the kids went to bed. It ticked and tocked, back and forth, over and over. It had been about an hour since you’d put them down for the night. You couldn’t wait for Zeke to get home for much longer. Butterflies buzzed through your stomach when you heard the doorbell ring.

 “Mr. Yeager?” You opened the door to the sight of your employer with his shirt halfway unbuttoned, glasses falling off his face, and hair an absolute bird’s nest. 

 “Hey, beautiful.” He purred, slumping onto your shoulder, trying and failing to be smooth. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing in my house, huh?” He looked up at you over the rim of his glasses. The way his eyes glimmered a dark shade of teal lit your entire body on fire. Feeling his full weight on top of you only made it spread farther.

 “Babysitting your kids, for starters.” You maneuvered your bodies to have his arm wrapped around your shoulder as you dragged him back into the house. “Apparently I’ll be babysitting you, too.” You mumbled, just then realizing exactly how muscular he was. You sat him down on the leather couch and started to walk to the kitchen to get him a glass of water. You didn’t have much experience with alcohol, but you believed water helped with it somehow.

 “Damn. Loving the view from back here, gorgeous.” He leaned forwards with his elbows on his knees, licking his chapped lips. You jumped at the sudden compliment. You couldn’t remember him being so…dirty before. You walked a little faster than you already were, wanting to get away from him before you made a stupid decision. You poured a tall glass of water, walking back to the couch where Zeke was now lounging, legs spread far enough to leave barely anything to the imagination.  

 “Hey there, doll. Got somethin’ for me?” He giggled, lowering his head from where he had been resting it. His eyes were something to behold, and the deep rooted confidence and downright cockiness behind them only served to make you shiver. You shuffled closer, a bit skittish at the sight of the beast before you. 

 “It’s just water.” You sat down on the table in front of him. “It’s supposed to help with your metabolism, I think.” Your voice was a higher pitch than usual, feeling an odd pressure in your throat every time you spoke.

 “What a smart little thing you are.” He praised. It felt genuine, and you started to feel hotter. You handed him the glass, trying your best to avoid eye contact. He took the glass, and almost as if he had sensed your intentions, took your chin between his fingers and forced you to look into his deep, ocean eyes. He leaned back a bit, giving you a better view of his exposed chest. There was a light layer of golden hair overtop of his expansive chest, and it seemed to trail down the rest of his body. You wanted to find out if that was true. Still holding eye contact with you, he tipped the glass and send the water spilling down his shirt. You knew that wasn’t just drunken clumsiness, but a calculated measure to get in your pants.

 “Whoops.” He said, eyes cold and emotionless as his words. “You better clean that up, sweetheart. We both know I can’t take care of myself in this state.” You moved closer to him, hands unsure of where they were going. You were shaking a bit, and you didn't have a towel on you. You decided the best course of action was to unbutton his shirt the rest of the way. You felt down his chest, gently tugging on his nipples. He let out a soft groan as you continued to feel him up. 

 “You’re gettin’ a little handsy there, baby. You want something from me?” He pet your hair as you moved further down on his chest. You kissed and gave kitten licks, appreciating every inch and curve of his muscular form. You couldn’t get enough of him, try as you might.

 “I fuckin’ knew it.” He pulled you by your hair to force you to look at him.

 “Filthy little harlot.” He squeezed you cheeks, forcing your mouth open. You looked confused until you felt a glob of spit hit your tongue. You swallowed like it was second nature. 

 “You’re just here for my dick, huh?” You continued to kiss and lick down his abdomen, savoring every ounce of him you could; the smell of cinnamon, menthol, and saltwater hit your nose, intoxicating you further and further the more you breathed him in. “I bet it’s all you think about. Especially when those fingers rub that pretty little cunt until you cum all over yourself.” You let out a whine, signifying exactly how right he was.

 “Yeah.” You dragged your tongue up his six-pack, savoring the slightly salty taste. “Think about you every night.” You licked a stripe down the same line you had just gone up. “Only way I can get to sleep.” He smiled the warmest smile you had ever seen him produce. Such a sweet little thing for him, getting off to thoughts of him railing you silly in order to have a good night’s rest. Your submissive, horny mind was so focused on him you couldn’t get to bed without him. You were perfection in human form. Truly a goddess sent from above. He would worship you in the most degrading way possible.

 “I knew you were dirty, I just needed to force you to show me.” He continued to pet your hair like you were some kind of beloved family pet. You felt so small under his touch; so fragile, as if one touch could blow you away forever. You loved the feeling more than life itself. You felt like you could never live without it again. Touching yourself while thinking about him wouldn’t do the trick; not after you had felt the real thing.

 “That’s it, honey, kiss me like you mean it.” He teased, knowing exactly what was running through your head. Sure, he was no master of seduction, but he had bedded plenty before, and he knew exactly how talented he was. He had learned from years of experience; years you hadn’t yet lived. You would learn it all from him. Those little college boys he could smell on you every so often wouldn’t cut it anymore. He was meant for you, and you for him. He knew he already had you trapped, but playing with you was so fun. Poking and prodding and mocking you all while you worshiped him like he had hung the moon in the sky.

 “You love this body, don’t you, slut?” He pulled your hair suddenly, earning a yelp that went straight to his aching cock. “You know, I’ve only been keeping in shape for you. I knew from the moment you saw me that was the main appeal, and lord knows I’d go through hell to keep you around.” That was true. He knew others would settle for mediocrity, but a flawless little angel like you deserved better than mediocre. You needed someone to match your talent, beauty, and wit. He didn’t believe he equaled you in anything but maybe wits, but still, he was good for you. At least, you seemed to think so, considering you were giving tiny kitten licks to the tip of his recently freed dick. The tip was red, swollen, and leaking a sinful amount of precum. You sucked it all up, taking the engorged head between your plush lips. You felt like heaven, but the ache in your pussy felt like hell. You slowly began to go the full length down his cock. Zeke was right: you had messed around with college boys before, but none were as big as him. Your gag reflex wasn’t prepared, causing you to choke and sputter on it. Zeke grinned slyly.

 “Say my name, sweetie.” He wanted to treat you right, but it was so enjoyable to indulge his sadistic side.

 “Mr. Yeager.” You choked out. You knew how much he enjoyed that title; the feeling of authority it brought him made him hard as a rock every time. He groaned in pleasure, sending shivers down your spine. That knocked him off his rhythm for a moment, but he was right back on you the minute he regained some sense of self.

 “The kids are right upstairs, peacefully sleeping, while you choke on my dick like a dumb little slut.” The thought made you feel so dirty. You shifted on the ground, squeezing your thighs together and trying to get some friction. “And you do it so well, baby. I couldn’t ask for better.” He sighed.

 “That’s it, pretty girl, don’t hurt yourself down there.” He slowly pulled you off his cock by your hair. He didn’t want to admit it, and really didn’t show any signs, but you had him on the verge of cumming down your throat. But he didn’t want his precious seed there. Hell no! He wanted you stuffed to the brim and properly bred.

 “I’ve wanted you for so goddamn long, you don’t even know.” The look on tour face was something beyond pleasure or pain. It was a mix of both with a side of...fear? “What, scared of taking something this big, doll?” You shook your head.

 “Don’t worry, daddy’ll get you nice and wet for him.” He slowly came to hover over you, lifting you up and sitting you down on the couch. He spread your legs, undoing the button of your shorts with his long, thick fingers, bringing his mouth to your zipper and pulling it down with his teeth. He pulled them down your legs, bringing his face to your core. You felt hot on his mouth and nose. He licked a wet stripe up your clothed core,

 “God, you taste like honey, sweetie. I’m so fuckin’ lucky.” He pulled your panties to the side, relishing in the sight of your puffy pussy. You were beautiful in the murky yellow light of the room. You folds shimmered with slick and he could see your cunt clench around nothing, so obviously desperate for his dick. That’s right, his dick. Only his. From now on.

 He dove into you, savoring your tangy flavor. Pussy was a taste all its own, each having new, intense, rich tastes he could barely describe. To be perfectly honest, Zeke was a sucker for a wet little cunt in his mouth, and you were the perfect subject. Every suck to your clit, every kiss and lick to your folds, every darting flick of his tongue into your aching little hole; it had you moaning and whimpering like a ditzy little slut. Your mind was hazy with ecstasy.

 “Don’t get too loud now, dollface. Don’t wanna wake the kids now, do you?” His words brought you back to Earth, forcing you to remember you were being eaten out by a father of two. It felt so filthy to know you had been bringing up his kids, acting as a faux wife, and now you were being treated like one, eaten out of your mind and promised a thorough breeding.

 “Not that I don’t believe you would get off on being watched. I bet you love that idea, huh?” You jolted at the words and the sensation of another kiss to your cunt. “It might sound a little sick, but I could invite my brother over, see if he has as good a taste as mine.” He’d be willing to invite Eren over for a test run of…you? You knew they didn’t get along, so it was surprising, but that only turned you on even more. Imaging them fighting over you like hungry wolves on the hunt. They’d ravish you without even thinking. If this was Zeke, held back, on his own, you could only yelp and whimper at what kind of monsters the two of them would be together.

 “Nah, that little shit doesn’t deserve you.” He smirked into your sopping wet core. Eren never appreciated the finer things in life, still to young to understand the joys of pussy eating. No, he was more for the fuck and chuck kind of lifestyle. You deserved better aftercare than a point towards the door. “Some of the guys at my firm, however. Bet they’d turn you out real nice. They’re all just about as big and pent up as me. We could all show you a real good time." That would be about…three, four, even five of him? All fucking you at once with the same vigor and deep seated intensity. You head buzzed at the thought. "You’d like that, wouldn’t you, whore?” You couldn’t keep up with him in this state. You were completely fucked out without even being fucked at all. Before you knew it, you were cumming all over his gorgeous face and beard. He was taken slightly aback, but he licked it all up in five seconds flat. He was a professional.

 “Answer me, doll.” He delivered a harsh slap to your thigh. He enjoyed the ripple it gave and the red mark his hand had left.

 “Yes, Mr. Yeager.” You stuttered out, barely above a whisper. Torturing you would be fun, but not tonight. No, he needed to be thorough with your pleasure and ensure you would never leave his side again. He gave a few light slaps to your slippery pussy, making your thighs shake and mouth move without making a sound.

 “That’s what I fuckin’ thought.” He slowly stood up, giving you a perfect view of the shining god before you. His body was something sculpted by the old masters; a true work of art. Before you could fully appreciate the image of perfection in front of you, he bent down just a bit, pushing your thigs back as far as they could go, squishing your tits under them. He enjoyed the way your pudgier parts stuck out, giving him more parts of you to pinch and suck on as he fucked into you. His was no doubt the biggest cock you’d ever taken, and it wasn’t easy to have inside of you at first. Your walls clamped down on him so tight it was almost painful. But as he slowly pushed in and out, pleasure began to overtake the pain and you started to loosen up just a bit.

 “Just relax, sweetie. Daddy’s got you.” Of course he had a daddy kink. It made perfect sense, as did yours. Hearing him say that in that truly comforting tone made your head spin with pleasure.

"God, you are so fucking tight." He continued to fuck into you at a savage pace, not seeming to care if you screamed or cry, rather relishing in the fact that you were. You were so young and tight and sensitive, it drove him mad. He was sure he could never go a day without your pussy again.

"You fit me like a vice, sweetheart. You trying to milk me dry? Huh?" Your mouth was hanging open, drool spilling out. It gave him ample opportunity to spit in your mouth once again.

"Swallow it you filthy slut." He lightly tapped your face.

"This is exactly how I wanted you." You could barely hear him, blanking out at the intensity of his continuous pounding of your poor little cunt. "Been thinking about this for months."

"Might just knock you up, sweetie. You already take care of my brats so well, what's one more?" You squealed at the thought. He wanted you to have his babies. He wanted you to be his new, permanent play thing to fuck and fill up every night.

"Yeah. I wan' your babies." You slurred your words, inebriated by the feeling of his cock filling your tight little cunt. He gazed down at your fucked out form, finding a sick sense of pleasure in how far gone you were all thanks to him. You moaned far too loud for someone in a house full of kids. You couldn't hold back, he just felt too damn good.

"You gonna cum, little girl?" He had almost a mocking tone when he asked that. You nodded your head, squeezing your eyes shut. He kept up the pace, abusing your g-spot, not letting up for even a second. He set out to make you feel incredible; like the perfect little plaything he knew you to be, and he wasn’t going to let his slightly aged stamina get in the way.

"That's it, you look so pretty, baby. What a good little slut." He looked down at you with heated intensity. "My little slut." He continued his brutal pace almost as if you had never cum at all.

"Oh, 'd you think I'd quit just 'cause you finished? No fuckin' way." You squealed as he continued to thrust inside you, still drunk on the idea of being full of his cum. You wanted him more than you had wanted anything in your life.

"'M gonna make you squirt all over me. Ruin this nice, expensive couch." You were screaming his name at that point, unable to form a thought that wasn't Zeke and his perfect dick.

"Such a fuckin' cocktease all these months. This is what you get for it. Tummy full of my cum." He slowed his pace as he looked into your eyes with the intensity of a man drunk on desire.

"All those times you flipped your skirt up so I could see your cute little panties." He thrusted into you harder than he had before. "All those times you called me Mr. Yeager in that innocent tone that drove me up the wall." He thrusted harder than you had ever thought possible. You felt him hit your cervix. "Every time you acted like you didn't know what you were doing. Like you didn't know what I wanted." He continued to pound into you. You felt so full, so good.

"You're getting tighter, baby. You gonna squirt while daddy fills you up, huh?" His pace was brutal and you were seeing stars.

"That's it, pretty baby, cum all over me. Let me fill you up." He humped into you a few final times before shooting his load into your cunt. You screamed at the feeling of your cum squirting out of you as his cum squirted into you. You were so dizzy and so full. You were happy. You were safe and taken care of and filled to the brim by the man you loved most.

 “Hey.” You saw Zeke’s stunningly handsome face look down at you. His cheeks were flushed, forehead sweaty, sculpted chest heaving. But his eyes were transfixed on you with a look so filled with love and passion it made you feel like you were floating. “How you holding up, princess?” That was a new name…not that you minded. “Didn’t go too rough did I?” He panted in between his gentle words, the main drawback of giving it your all.

 “Actually.” You huffed a bit, just then realizing how difficult it was to talk, or move, or breathe. “Think you coulda’ gone harder.” He chuckled, the same look of complete infatuation lingering in his oceanic eyes.

 “Yeah?”

 “Yeah.”

 “You sure?”

 “I’m tougher than you’d think, old man.” He laughed at you, appreciating how you could still be the sweetest little thing he’d ever met after being pounded half to death.

 “Alright, I’m not even thirty, you little minx.”

 “Calling me a minx isn’t helping your case, Zeke.” His eyes lit up with recognition.

 “First time you’ve called me that, angel.” He smiled like an idiot in love, because he was one.

 “Maybe it’ll be the last, if you keep acting like such an animal around me.” You slapped his shoulder with as much strength as you could muster, which was basically none.

 “Well, if you don’t like the rough treatment, how about I treat you like the perfect angel you are? Treat you to a nice, warm shower and a cuddle session with yours truly. How about that?” He gently rubbed your cheek, taking in how wonderful your afterglow was.

 “Sounds nice.”

 “Alright, let’s go, angel.”

 “Okay, Mr. Yeager.” You giggled at how quickly his face darkened and lips tightened into a frown.

 “Ever the tease, you are.” He carried you to his shower bridal style, no doubt a sign of things to come.

[neocatharsis]

NCT 127 Reveal The Hobbies & Obsessions They Can’t Give Up In Their Down Time

In Elite Daily’s series Rent-Free, celebrities unpack the one thought, memory, or unforgettable pop culture moment that'll always live in their head. In this piece, NCT 127 reveals the interests and hobbies even die-hard fans will be surprised to learn about.

In the past year, most musical acts had to cancel their highly-anticipated tours due to the coronavirus pandemic, and NCT 127 was no exception. That’s why its members — Johnny, Haechan, Mark, Taeyong, Jaehyun, Yuta, Taeil, Jungwoo, and Doyoung — have taken every opportunity to get closer to their fans with new music. After dropping their second Japanese EP, Loveholic, in February, the group returned on June 4 with “Save,” their latest single all about making unforgettable memories. Up next? An entirely new era. On July 7 (the group’s fifth anniversary), they announced their next album is coming in September. In celebration of all the exciting things ahead, NCT 127 opened up about how they wind down after a hard day’s work.

NCT 127 tells Elite Daily these past five years as a group have been worthwhile, and it’s all thanks to their fans, called NCTzens, who have supported them throughout their journey. “[We have so many] memories from practicing together pre-debut to our actual debut stage, and also all those times we spent working on our music and performance to meet our fans at our first concert and first world tour as well,” the group collectively says. “Each and every moment we spend on our music is for our fans, and we are working hard to better show ourselves in various different ways, so we hope you’re all excited!”

Fans have impacted the group so much that they’ve become the muse behind NCT 127’s biggest tracks. “The inspiration [behind ‘Save’] comes from wanting to save our precious memories with each other and with our fans,” the group says. And NCT 127 hasn’t let go of a single one. While they haven’t been able to perform in front of a live audience since early 2020, they held their online Beyond The Origin concert in May. They add, “It was new getting to meet fans from every part of the world at the same time.”

While the guys have their hands full recording their next project, they’re making sure to get some much-deserved R&R whenever they can. Below, NCT 127 reveal the interests that have been living in their minds rent-free.

Johnny

Johnny is a major fan of horror movies. “I love how they keep you on the edge of your seat the whole time you’re watching,” he says. His favorite scary movie of all time is Shutter, which is about a couple who accidentally run over a woman and then see her ghost in photographs they develop. “Even though I watched it when I was young, I still remember the movie, and it’s one I think about often. I’ve seen the movie multiple times since I first saw it in high school, and I recall being scared of red-lit rooms for quite some time afterward,” he says.

His most recent watch was The Conjuring franchise. He adds, “After I saw the movies, I looked up some articles about the behind stories. They were pretty interesting!”

Taeil

Taeil keeps music on his mind even after a full day of rehearsals. “Audio speakers really amplify music so you can hear the intricate details of the track, and there’s also that sense of excitement from when you hear a sound you like!” Taeil says, explaining his love for audio. “I like the speaker brand Focal. There’s still a lot I don’t know about speakers, but I find the brand very attractive since you can experience a flat sound that’s similar to what the songwriter intended to create.”

Taeil says the group’s sound has changed a lot since their debut in 2016. He says, “With time, our team color is definitely becoming more distinct and defined. I think the sound we have now is a very captivating one with strong hip-hop and R&B colors.”

Taeyong

The group’s leader enjoys connecting with others, but especially with NCTzens. “[Our relationship] is a very precious and one that I’m truly grateful for. Not only do we enjoy the same things, but we also try to improve and show that to each other. All of this is very special and meaningful to me,” he says. “It’s nice to learn of each other’s culture, and by singing in different languages, it makes me feel as if I’ve grown closer to our fans from those countries.”

Yuta

Yuta loves exercising because it’s very rewarding, and although he doesn’t have a specific fitness routine, he prefers working out at a gym rather than at home. “I like how exercising makes me feel stronger and helps me to build up my strength... which is very helpful when practicing group dances that require attention to body angles,” he says. “We had a short preparation period [to learn ‘Save’], but I was able to learn the choreography quickly and had a fun time preparing.”

Doyoung

Ever since he was cast as Axel von Fergen in the Korean adaptation of Marie Antoinette, which is based on the 2006 musical of the same name that originally premiered in Japan, Doyoung has found a newfound appreciation for theatre. “I find it very precious how you can share emotions through singing and acting,” he says. “It’s been very meaningful preparing for my musical debut, and it’s really all thanks to the amazing seniors and producers! The process in itself has been a very fun one, and I have been preparing with a heart of gratitude.”

Doyoung is set to make his musical debut on July 13 when the production opens at the Charlotte Theater in Seoul.

Jaehyun

Jaehyun says he “fell in love” with tennis in April because it helps relieve stress. “I’ve always enjoyed trying out new sports like basketball, bowling, and boxing whenever I had the chance. But I actually started tennis because my father recommended it,” he says. “I know this is the case for all sports, but tennis isn’t something you can master after a few tries. It requires persistence, and I started to enjoy it even more as I saw myself gradually improving.”

Jaehyun’s favorite tennis player is Jannik Sinner, a 19-year-old Italian athlete who competed in the 2020 French Open as the youngest quarterfinalist in the men’s singles event. He says, “I’d really like to go see a tournament.”

Mark

Lately, Mark is interested in taking better care of his hair. “It’s really important to me because I change my hair color a lot, and because I want my hair and scalp to be healthy,” he says. While he’s experimented with just about every color in the rainbow, there’s one he always loves going back to. He adds, “I think I liked my blue hair the most. It is my favorite color, after all, and I believe my fans liked it as much as I did. I was glad to be able to film the ‘Save’ music video during my blue-haired period. It fit well with all the scenes and the aesthetics!”

Jungwoo

Similar to Yuta, Jungwoo has also had exercising on his mind. “My life has become more lively since I started exercising. More so than exercising to improve my physique, I exercise in order to have a healthier, richer life. Also, it makes me proud knowing I’m spending my day more productively,” he says. “The first thing I do after I wake up is to start off the day with simple stretches that improve body balance... Stretching helps to warm up the body, which reduces the risk of injury, and can also boost your mood! I think this is why when I dance, I’m able to express those movements in more detail.”

Haechan

Haechan is now experimenting with all things fragrance. “I started using perfume since scents can give a sense of self-satisfaction and because I wanted to smell good all the time!” he says, adding he doesn’t have a favorite perfume. “The scent that suits me well, that I personally like, and that will suit me is always different!” However, there’s one scent that will always remind him of a certain memory with NCT 127. “This might sound funny, but I’d have to say the smell of sweat in our practice rooms,” Haechan says, adding it’s “satisfying” because it makes him feel like they worked hard after a long day. As for what draws fans to NCT 127, Haechan credits their “sincere music and performances.”

© Elite Daily

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.05

10/28/2020

Preparations

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 6,652

Warnings: angst, slight smut?, language, fluff

A/N: Thank you everyone, for putting up with my emotional ass. After some thought, and when I was feeling better and not so sad (?), I really didn’t wanna make those of you keeping up with the story wait for the next chapter. I hope you all enjoy this one and if you happen to reblog, thank you so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Please DO NOT repost my stories on any other blogs or sites.

REBLOGS are always welcome!

The city is lively with beautiful Asgardians rushing about their daily lives. In the time since it’s completion, New Asgard and its inhabitants have settled into a routine. New lives on a planet now once again full of growth, community interaction, and celebration when the time is right.

“We’ll give you a proper tour tomorrow.” Brunnhilde says, reaching forward to tap the shoulder of the man driving you both. “Stop here.”

“Wait, aren’t you coming with me?” You ask, startled as she throws open the back door of the sleek black sedan.

“No. I have other things to prepare for the wedding and then I have to check in on my Valkyrie. Your escorts will meet you at the shop.” Brunnhilde assures you.

“But-”

“Bye!” She smiles at you and slams the door in your face.

You sit there, confused and at a loss. Your anxiety begins to mount when the driver, a handsome young Asgardian man with long braided black hair, clears his throat and draws your attention to the front.

“Shall I drive on Your Highness?” He asks, glancing in his rearview mirror at you.

“Um…” You’ll never get used to that stupid your highness stuff. “Yes.”

“Very good, Your Highness.”

“Can’t you just call me, Y/N?” You ask, feeling awkward.

“No.” He says, a smile on his face. “I cannot. I can see why his Majesty has chosen you.”

You’re surprised by this statement, and you’re pretty sure it’s insolent maybe? You don’t know because this is all new to you, but you don’t really care either way.

“Why?”

“You don’t remember me?” He asks, as he drives down the street.

As they pass, the Asgardians stop in their walking or talking or errand running to watch you drive by. Some of them smile with excitement, even moving with the car a few steps before stopping.

They’re all dressed normal. Asgardian garb abandoned to fit in on Earth. Not all of them. Some still wear their own clothes. Some of them wear a mixture of both. It’s a mish-mash of two cultures and you understand the need for a human Queen a little more.

“No.” You shake your head, giving the driver your full attention.

“I didn’t think you would.” He admits, smiling still. “You were very nervous when I first drove you up to the palace. Quite literally shaking in your pretty shoes.”

Was he your driver then too?!

“Alas, I understand his Majesty’s choice because you were the only woman that sat in my car and spoke to me. You may not have been aware enough to remember me, but you were very kind. Very concerned about me despite the stress you were in.” He looks in his rearview mirror again, meeting your eyes. “My wife gave birth, by the way.”

“Oh!” Your mind is struck with an unfocused conversation, hazy but you remember the pregnant wife. “I remember!”

You’re way too excited about remembering and the driver chuckles.

“Was it a boy or a girl?” You ask eagerly.

“A girl.” He smiles. “We’ve named her Luta.”

“Congratulations!” You exclaim gently, so happy for him.

“Thank you, Your Highness. I’ll tell my wife you said so.” He promises.

“I’d love to meet her.” You hope, leaning forward to get a better look at the side of his face.

“I’m not sure that will be possible. You’ll be terribly busy, and my wife is also with our little girl.”

“What if I came to pay her a special visit?” You really want to meet her.

“If you could find the time, Your Highness, my wife and I would be happy to receive you.” He smiles.

“I’m sorry if you told me last time we met, but what is your name?”

“Armod, Your Highness.” He tells you, turning down a second and smaller street.

The people are still dense, gathered around stalls and smaller shops as Armod drives a little slower to keep a careful eye on the families attending what must be an early morning market.

You take it in as quickly as you can, devouring the sight of these beautiful people and in return they turn to watch you go by.

They turn to each other, have quick and silent—to you—exchanges before a few of them begin to turn and wave.

Nervous, you wave timidly, smiling because you can’t help it. It isn’t a conscious decision.

The side street is so packed with stalls that it makes it impossible for people to follow the car at the speed it’s going, even reduced.

You’re a little grateful. You don’t want to get mobbed without someone else here to dilute the excitement.

“The people are very excited to see their future Queen.” Armod explains, “Forgive them their exuberance.”

“I hope I don’t disappoint them.”

As the crowd thins out, and Armod pulls the car into a gentle stop, he shakes his head, “Trust me, Your Highness, you won’t.”

Your car door opens. Into your view slides a pale white hand, luxurious suit jacket sleeve barely hiding the equally expensive white button-up underneath.

“Your Highness,” greets a familiar voice.

Taking his hand, Loki pulls you from the car, helping you stand and even reaching down to adjust the long train of your right sleeve.

The dress is sparkling blue, a body-hugging gold silk dress underneath the top sheer voile blue layer on top. The right sleeve is long, ends at your wrist, with a train that flows down at an equal length to that of your skirt. The left side is sleeveless.

You’re nervous about the deep V of your bodice, the scrunched-up shoulders of your dress carefully balanced there but too precarious for your liking.

With he sun out, the chill in the air isn’t so bad, but here in the shade of what must be the bridal shop, you shiver.

“You look lovely.” Loki smiles.

“I look stupid.” You counter, feeling very exposed and not at all pretty with how tight the dress feels.

“Allow me to politely disagree.” Loki takes your hand and leads it around his elbow as become aware of the people gathering around to catch a look at you. “I think the crowd would agree with me.”

“Can we go inside, please?” You beg, waving at the small group as other begin to flock from their spots at distant stalls to join the crowd.

“Of course.” Loki taps your hand then escorts you into the shop.

You relax a little once you’re inside and warm.

A middle-aged looking woman moves towards the two of you, her hand subtly stroking a large fold of crimson fabric on the low center shelf before she reaches you and then dips into a low curtsy before rising and grabbing her hands to hold at chest level.

“Good morning, your Highnesses!” She exclaims, gushing to an embarrassing degree.

“Good morning, Gorm. How are you?” Loki asks politely.

He doesn’t seem truly interested in her answer, but he waits kindly while she flusters with the honor of his polite concern.

“I am much better now that you and our King Thor’s lovely intended have arrived. Such an honor to meet you, Your Highness.” She says, addressing you directly.

“Thank you.” You reply, startled by her a bit. “It’s so great to meet you.”

“Tell me, Gorm, have you received His Majesty’s instructions on the dress we’d like?” Loki checks.

“Oh, yes, Your Highness! I’ve been working non-stop on several options since I received them.” She assures him, gesturing back towards a doorway past a long wooden counter with a modern cash register and signature pad for credit cards.

“Excellent.” Loki smiles. “Now, while I hate to do this to you, love—do you think you can handle a few hours alone with Gorm to do your fitting?”

“You’re leaving?” You ask, once again shocked, just like with Brunnhilde.

“I’m afraid I have several other things to do for the wedding and with the Earth and Asgardian ambassadors eager to have the wedding as soon as possible, I have to take every chance I can get to run these errands. Not like I have anything better to do…” Loki’s voice is slightly bitter, but only for a moment before he taps your hand again. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back long before you’re finished. Gorm doesn’t leave anything to chance with her gowns and this one is the most important one you will wear in your life. We have to get it right, don’t we Gorm?”

Gorm is already nodding, her blonde graying hair flowing like waves across her shoulders as she does. “Oh, yes, Your Highness. I will make sure that not only will the dress fit His Majesty’s expectations, but you too shall feel beautiful and like the dress was made just for you, Your Highness.”

“There you are.” Loki smiles. “I’ll be back.”

He pulls your hand up to his lips to kiss your knuckles before letting it go and moving towards the door, leaving you and Gorm to stand awkwardly for a few moments after the door shuts behind him.

“Shall we?” She gestures back towards the doorway and since there’s no way to get out of this, you fix her with a nervous smile and nod.

“Yes.” You sigh, and follow her, making sure to hold onto the counter as your round it so that you don’t trip on your train.

~~~~~~~~~~

Stomach absolutely growling, you slip your arms through the sleeves of the dress you’ve pretty much settled on.

The past five hours have had you step in and out of two other dresses three times, and this one a total of eight times. Each time so that Gorm can make alterations to length and cut and detail.

It’s surprising to you that this particular dress should need so much maintenance when it’s the simplest of the bunch.

You’d fallen for it almost at first sight but had tried the other two more frilly dresses to appease Gorm since Thor had requested something feminine to counteract the armor you’d be wearing on the day.

Armor you had no idea would be required in your wedding until Gorm explained the necessity for bodices without much flair.

“Alright, Your Highness,” Gorm smiles at you, holding the dress low and open for you to step through. “Once more, and then I think we are done.”

You let her slip the dress over you, layer after layer of smooth satin with one final crepe layer on top. The dress is eggshell white, soft, and easy on the eye.

Some white fabrics nearly burn your retinas, but this one is pleasant to look at.

It stops just around your shoulders, leaving them exposed. The neckline curves down with your bust just a little making the top look like a heart, the point of which is followed all the way down with a line of stitched white buttons.

They’re purely decorative because behind you is where Gorm stands to zip the dress closed.

She closes a small clasp and then folds out the layers of skirt around you.

It’s not as long as the blue dress you wore here today. Simpler and easier to walk in. The sleeves themselves are long, which you appreciate very much in this weather. Every bit of the dress now settles along your curves just right.

“Oh, this was the right choice, I think.” Gorm smiles wide. “You look beautiful, Your Highness. His Majesty is a very lucky man.”

You smile in return, flattered by her words for a moment because you forget that Thor has been with Jane all morning. As you remember, your smile falters then fades as the worries you had this morning come rushing back.

“You don’t like it?” Gorm asks, reaching down to stroke the long and beautiful skirt.

“Oh, no. I love the dress, Gorm. I’m just…worried about His Majesty liking it.” You smile at her, to reassure her. She’s done such amazing work. You might have her make all of your gowns from now on. Unless…?

“Gorm? Were you the one that made the dress I came in wearing today?” You wonder.

“No.” She shakes her head. “I’m afraid I did not have that pleasure.”

“How much of an imposition would it be if I made you my sole dressmaker? His Majesty has bought me some gowns to wear when appropriate, but I don’t feel like they’re my style.”

“Oh, Your Highness! It would be an honor to be your personal dressmaker!” She’s so flustered that she excuses herself and vanishes into the front of the shop to get her water.

You turn your gaze onto yourself in the mirror, all three angles looking back at you.

The dress really is unbelievably beautiful. You would never have thought that this dress and its style would have looked good on you, but it fits around your curves so seamlessly. This dress was literally made for you and it’s very noticeable.

As you turn around one final time, a small chuckle from the doorway pulls your eyes away from your reflection.

“I’m glad to see you haven’t put up such a fight over this.” Loki moves towards you, stopping a few feet away with his arms crossed over his chest.

“You should have seen me wrestle with the other two.” You sigh. “Can we go? I’m so hungry.”

Almost as if on cue, your stomach growls.

“Yes.” Loki nods. “We can go. I’ve got lunch waiting for you back in the palace.”

“Is Thor back?” You hop off the box you’d been standing on, grabbing your skirts and then dropping them to cascade around your legs like a milky waterfall.

Loki’s smile falter. “I’m afraid not. But don’t worry, he’ll be back soon, I’m sure.”

You’re so disappointed you wander away from him into the dressing room to change back into your blue dress without giving him any sort of answer.

He’s got you in the car, your forehead resting against the glass of the window, lost in thoughts of Thor and Jane when he speaks to you again.

“Might I ask you a favor, sister?” He probes gently.

Him calling you his sister makes your stomach tumble.

You have a brother! How can you ever explain this happiness?

“Sure.”

“I hope you don’t find me insolent, but-” He hesitates, thinking about the words he’s about to say hard before he meets your eyes and that seems to strengthen his resolve. “Don’t fall in love with Thor. Not yet. Don’t let him pull you in right away.”

“You think he’ll leave me for Jane?” You wait, watching as Loki thinks through your accusation.

“Not exactly, but yes. I suppose that’s a possibility I hope you can avoid.”

For a few minutes while Armod drives you back to the palace, you say nothing. You consider his request and the honest concern that he seems to have for you.

As Armod pulls into the large multi-car garage at the back of the palace, you turn to Loki and stare sadly.

“I can’t make that promise, Loki.” You shrug. “It’s already too late for that.”

“You love him?” Loki realizes.

“No!” You deny, “Not exactly. I don’t love him yet, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t very fond of him already. He-he kissed me last night.”

Loki’s brow furrows.

“A lot actually. He begged me to try and love him just as he would try to love me. I promised him I would try.” As if you’ll need to try.

You’re already hopelessly possessive over him. Maybe not him as a person, but rather those kisses he gave you. Those are your kisses now. Those thick arms he held you in, those are your arms—your hugs!

And now he might be in the United States giving those very things that are now yours alone to Jane who wouldn’t even marry him?

“It’s too late.” You reiterate, feeling absolutely lost.

“Come on, Your Highness. Let’s get you a late lunch.”

~~~~~~~~~~

If there isn’t a trail across your floor after all of the pacing you’ve done today, you’d be surprised.

“This won’t make him come back any faster.” Brunnhilde points out.

“Do I really have to model the wedding dress for him?” You ask, twisting your fingers nervously as you move up and down your room.

“I think it would be good for him.” Brunnhilde explains. “And yes. He won’t see your armor until the day of the wedding, but the dress will help make it more real for him. He needs that. So do you.”

“It’s already real for me Brunnhilde.” You lift your thumb nail to your teeth and nip, like a nervous pup, stopping at the heavy doors of the balcony.

They’ve been thrown open and the chilly air filtering in makes you shiver.

“Hilde.” Brunnhilde corrects, then moves to take a long wine-colored woolen shawl and drapes it over your shoulders as you stare out at the bustling city.

You can hear laughter, lots of merrymaking. The Asgardian people know how to enjoy their free time, but you’ve seen how hard they work too. As a whole. Loki assured you on the way home that there are just as many lazy time wasters among them as there are humans.

“Why are you fretting?” She sits at the desk, staring up at you with curious dark eyes.

“Because he’s been with Jane all day.” You lash out.

It’s not a scream, just pure exasperation. And immediately, you feel sorry.

“I’m sorry.” You sigh, dropping your hand but pulling the shawl around you tighter.

You notice it finally.

“Oh, thank you.” You really feel bad now.

“You’re acting like you’re already in love with him.” She teases, not caring one bit about your little tantrum.

Through the corners of your eyes you look at her, avoiding her piercing look.

“Y/N…?” She wonders, leaning forward to get a better look at you.

“I don’t love him, alright? I just…” You sigh. “No one’s ever kissed me before.”

Your feel your neck and ears burn, scorching with embarrassment as you admit just how much of a maiden she’d found for him.

“So, you really are a virgin?” She gasps, leaning almost her entire body along the desk to look at your face.

You frown at her. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“No.” She hakes her head. “No, not at all. You’re just so…well, you’re beautiful.”

The laugh that slips through your lips is sudden and honest.

You stare at her, shaking your head because you don’t believe her one bit.

“I’m serious!” Hilde assures you, smiling and amused by your reaction. “It’s a little bit of a shame that you haven’t been fawned on before.”

The sprinkle of sadness in her voice exposes her real meaning and it wipes away all traces of flattery.

“You mean, it’s a shame that I haven’t been with someone who will really love me because they choose to? And not like Thor because he has to?” With a bit more desperation, you look for Armod’s car, needing to see Thor.

Everything that happened last night feels like a dream. Made up in your mind to make it easier to marry Thor. Was it a dream?

You don’t remember him telling you goodnight. You have the vague memory of falling asleep with your head on his shoulder but you’re not sure how real that is with how hazy it feels.

What if his kisses had been a hopeful wish?

You bite your bottom lip, the heat and weight of his lips still fresh in your memory.

It can’t have been a dream. It felt so amazing. You could never have imagined the way it felt for him to invade you the way he did, pulling your body against his.

“He doesn’t come by car, y’know?” Hilde says, sitting back in her seat.

“What?” You turn to her, eager for explanation.

“Thor?” She gestures at the sky outside, drawing your eyes away from the city in the distance and up to the stars. “He flies here on Earth. It’s faster than flying by plane, but not by much. He’ll be going straight to his room as soon as he gets back.”

“Oh.” Your disappointment is suffocating and because you have no reason to keep freezing to death, you close the balcony doors.

With the cold shut out the heat from the hidden vents in your room saturates your shawl and envelopes you in a cocoon of heat.

“He might not want to see me tonight.” You accept, knowing that even if things went as best as they could have, Thor will still be heartbroken.

Having to give up on a relationship he had been so invested in? Even if he’s been unhappy with it lately, it must be difficult.

“No. He might not. But he has no choice. The wedding is in three days, so we have no time to wait for him to be ready to see you. We need approval on the dress.” She explains, leaving no room for argument.

Which is a shame because you would rather not see him all torn up about Jane. Not that you wouldn’t like to give him comfort. But you doubt that seeing you is something Thor would want. Not when it’s your fault that he has to break up with Jane to begin with.

“You know what? I’ll go check to see if he’s back. Gorm already sent us the dress. I’ll have Estrid help you put it on.” Hilde rises, moving out of the room without waiting for you to agree.

Five minutes later, Estrid moves into the room, her arms cradling your beautifully crafted wedding dress.

“Shall I do your hair too, Your Highness?” She asks, and lays the dress on your bed, the color such a beautiful contrast to the deep plum colored sheets.

“My hair?” You look in the mirror and the fancy thing they’d done with it this morning is falling apart. “No. I’m okay, Estrid. Thank you.”

“Very well, Your Highness.” She smiles kindly then moves towards you and takes your shawl.

You turn for her and she begins to unzip your blue dress, your mind on Thor and the mood he might be in when you see him again.

~~~~~~~~~~

The hesitation is in more than just your fist, hovering over the dark wooden of Thor’s bedroom door. It’s tall. Taller than it probably needs, sitting within a stone arch decorated with stunning golden engravings.

You’re not sure why Brunnhilde left you to do this alone. Loki is busy with something secret that he doesn’t want to share with you yet.

Not wedding related. He says it’s important and it involves you to some degree, but it’s not necessary for you to know until it’s necessary for you to know. Which is a circle-jerk kind of logic that you’re kind of annoyed by.

He’s nicer than previous opinions of him have made him seem. You suppose that has to do with the growth he’s made since he was last on Earth.

New York hadn’t been a great time for Loki, and he could only go up from there.

Brunnhilde had also neglected to tell you how Thor was feeling. Or looking? Either would have been great before you committed to coming up here on your own.

Thor’s bedroom is at the highest point of the palace. That is, highest save for the last floor which is mostly a defense tower full of weapons and a constant guard to keep Thor and his future wife safe. Which is now gonna be you.

Unless you go into his room and he tells you that he can’t stand being without Jane and rejects you and this pretty dress and you have to go back home to live just as you had before you met him. Only now with his kisses in your mind, his massive body pressed to yours, you won’t be able to get over the future you’d been promised.

How had you gone from refusing to marry him to wanting nothing more than to be his wife and even if all he was able to give you was one of those stupid kisses from last night, you’d be satisfied?

You drop your hand, almost with your mind made up to give up and just go back to your room because you don’t think you have the nerve to go through with seeing him today.

The part of you that disagrees, that remembers last night and wants more lifts your hand and knocks on his door.

In shock, you wait until his voice comes through and finally take a breath.

“Estrid? Is that you?” Thor’s voice sounds tired, not broken, but you can hear the weight in his heart by the sound of him.

You open the door and peek in, just one eye and the room is astoundingly beautiful.

If you weren’t so scared of what you’ll find in Thor, your jaw would drop ant the stunning image. To the left are two doorways, one is open, and you can see a large bathroom within. At the center of the room is what looks like a small kiddie pool, recessed into the floor, but probably deep enough for Thor to stand in?

There’s a part on this floor that’s shaped strangely from the outside and wonder if that’s what it is. The floor is dark stone tile, smooth and probably treated for waterproofing. Along the far wall of the bathroom, you can see a long wooden bench, dark oak like all of the other woods in the room from what you can see.

The toilet must be somewhere to the left where you can’t see from where you stand.

The other door is shut but since there is only an ornate set of drawers to the right of it, you assume that inside must be a large closet.

To the right of the room is a large bed. Large bed. You’ve never seen one so big.

It must be a California King? Which you’d stumbled upon in your search for mattresses when you’d first moved into your home. An accidental find and completely unnecessary.

That is, until now, when the thought of Thor laying in your very normal sized bed flits across your mind and suddenly the large King makes much more sense.

The bed is covered in soft looking gray flannel sheets. The comforter is gorgeous too, luxurious in its cotton ball soft appearance. Black with golden swirls and lines stitched across the top and bottom. The number of pillows is silly. All sizes too. Large ones at the very back and then several smaller ones until the ones at the very front are for mere decoration only.

Despite the more rustic look of the walls in the dark oak and stone base, the bed and furniture is slightly more modern in design. The headrest is cream white, ridged, and padded, as is the foot of the bed, but flatter than the headrest.

Two bedside tables hold various books on one and a lamp on the other. Behind the bed is a wall with a great big tree carved, flowing the length from top to bottom.

You swear you’ve seen that somewhere before.

The entirety of the wall opposite the doors to the room is made up of windows. Each window has been thrown open and the floor to ceiling curtains flow in the cool breeze.

They avoid the small breakfast table, laden with an untouched plate of the chicken you’d had for supper. On the other side is a large heavy looking desk. It’s sturdy. Big like Thor with papers and scrolls and folders. A laptop sits shut at the center and in the chair turned to face the left side of the room sits Thor with his shoulders hunched, elbows on his knees, hands supporting his face as he keeps it covered.

His body tells you everything you need to know about how he’s feeling and though you hate it, after so much worrying about what you’d find in here, you’re grateful to finally set eyes on him.

“It’s not Estrid.” You say gently, afraid to speak any louder and disturb him more than he already is.

His head whips towards you, faster than you expected.

Your hands go numb with nervous energy as he stares at you, his electric blue eyes scanning you very slowly from head to toe, then back up again. He takes his hand as he does so, covering his mouth with it, stroking his beard slowly as if fixing it.

Taking the opportunity, you note the plain jeans he’s wearing, the white t-shirt that stretches across his wide chest and strains to keep him covered. The hem of his sleeves struggle to keep his biceps contained. His golden hair is windswept, short as it is, it sticks in all directions.

He looks so good, so perfect, except for that sadness on his face.

You can’t bear to ask him anything about her.

“Gorm is lovely.” You tell him, forcing a smile and a quick nod.

He meets your eyes with his own, dropping the hand he’d used to shield his mouth and allows both his hands to dangle between his knees.

“She’s the best in the city.” Thor nods, devouring your dress again.

He suddenly rises and you teeter backwards with the sudden rise.

He steps towards you, his feet falling heavy on the floor.

You really like the way he struts towards you. There’s a slight sway to his hips.

Lips feeling dry and cracked, you freeze as he moves past you at the last moment.

The sound of him sitting on his bed pulls you around to look at him and he sighs, reaching his right arm up towards you.

With a swallow, you move towards him. The luscious short train of your skirt follows in your wake, flowing like water.

When you’re within reach, his places his hand on your waist, pulling you closer until you’re standing before him. He takes his other hand and places that on your waist too, making your breath shallow.

He looks up to meet your gaze.

Hands balled into fists; you wait. You’re not sure what he needs. What you need from this moment. You’re only sure that you’re glad you don’t seem to have dreamed up last night.

“You look beautiful.” He says, voice penetrating into your chest to restart your heart at double the speed.

“It’s a little simple.” You observe, remembering the other much frillier options.

“It suits you.” He lets his hand trace down along the side of your hip, stealing your breath before sliding his hand back up to your waist.

He gives you a little shake and you reach out to place your hands on his shoulders to keep from losing your already fragile balance.

“Brunnhilde told me that you were very anxious today.” He sounds worried, his brow puckered, eyes crinkled at the corners from concern.

You shrug for him, intending to play off the exact amount of worrying you’d done today because you don’t want him to know how invested you already are.

“I ended it with Jane.”

“You don’t have to-” You begin, but Thor makes a dismissive noise in his throat and cuts you off.

“I owe you an explanation.” He nods. “When I gave you that ring on your finger, I became your intended. Officially ending things with Jane was only out of respect for who we were when we were together.”

“Thor you really don’t have to tell me about your breakup with Jane. It’s private. It’s before me. Whatever happened between the two of you today is now in the past.” You sigh, trying not to think about what kisses might have been shared.

Maybe more?

You make a mental note to never hold it against him if he ever tells you that he slept with her today.

He was hers long before you agreed to marry him.

“I want to be honest with you.” He sighs. “I want us to be open with each other. I want us to talk about anything that may be troubling us.”

“We will.” You nod, giving his shoulders a small squeeze. “I promise.”

“Then tell me what you were worried about today.”

You already regret your promise.

“I thought about what you must be feeling. Wondered if you might change your mind.” Answering honestly is actually cathartic. Though you usually do it on reflex, choosing to do it feels nice.

Thor only watches you, waiting for you to get it all out, his large hands caressing the sides of your waist and making you tingle.

“Keep going.” He urges you gently.

“I’m embarrassed.” You admit, and Thor’s face relaxes a moment, the beginnings of a smile curling his lips.

He doesn’t prompt you again, just waits.

There’s a peace in this silence of his. An acceptance. A sense of time to just be.

“I was afraid that I’d imagined last night. I don’t remember falling asleep. I just woke up and it was this morning. And last night was so…” You stop, realizing that as much as you’ve thought about last night today, for Thor if there are any kisses that he wants to hold onto today, they’re probably from Jane.

This fact suddenly hardens your heart and resolve. You reach to grab his wrists to pull his hands off of you, but he doesn’t budge. You couldn’t move him if you pushed as hard as you can.

“It doesn’t matter.” You brush it off. “You probably want to just be alone and I was told that you need to approve the dress? So, tell me what you think, and I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Have I upset you?” He asks, face shifted back into that slight pout he’d been wearing before.

“N-No.” You shake your head.

“Then why do you want to leave so quickly?” He demands, voice rising in pitch at the end.

“I just…after today, I just thought that maybe you’d want some space?”

“Then you aren’t angry with me?” He checks.

“No.”

He leans forward and presses his head against your stomach, eyes shutting as his arms wrap themselves around you and pull you closer.

You don’t quite know what to do with your hands, so you stand there, holding them over his shoulders, fighting the desire to hold him back.

“I’m so tired.” He admits to you, and it settles in your heart.

You drop your arms, resting them against him before you embrace him, hands splayed along his wide back.

He exhales, relaxing against you. “Thank you.”

“For what, Thor?” You whisper, too overcome with all this hugging to speak any louder.

“For hugging me.”

Your heart breaks for him, and you hold him tighter.

“May I be honest with you about something?”

“Yes.” Here it is, the truth about Jane and him today.

“These moments with you have been the most enjoyable and special moments I’ve spent with anyone in a long time.”

Does it really matter if he slept with Jane today? Kissed her? Hugged her?

Was he this sweet with her too?

“I love you in this dress.”

You sigh, the first three words of that declaration sending your heart into a frenzy.

“You do?”

“I do.”

You smile, liking that very much.

Thor’s blue eye shifts with electricity, literally, and he pulls you down onto his lap with a demanding grip on your waist.

Your arm is still around his shoulder, the other moving down to rest over his hand which he brings around to rest on your lower belly.

“Are you happy?” He wonders, catching your fingers within his.

“Relatively.” You nod. “I’m still worried.”

Honestly, right?

“Why?” He laments, caressing your waist.

“I’m liking you more and more too quickly.” You sigh. “I don’t want to disappoint you or the people. I want to do well. Both in our marriage and with the kingdom.”

Thor caresses your side, then slides his hand down further, large hand sliding along the fabric of your dress down over your thigh.

There’s a subtle tickle between your legs. It startles you and you have to physically force yourself to relax.

“You’re already better than anyone else I might have chosen.” Thor whispers, leaning in closer until his lips are pressed to your ear.

You remind yourself that you made him promise not to do anything he doesn’t want to do. No forcing himself to be affectionate if he doesn’t feel it.

“Thor…” You gasp, just a flurry of the air left in your lungs.

“I’ve been thinking…” He admits. “Since I left you last night, about how we might be able to prepare for our wedding night.”

How do you breathe again? Where does the air go?

“Do you trust me, cherub?”

That pet name hits you just as fiercely as it did the first time and all you can do is nod.

Thor suddenly throws you back over his arm onto the bed. Landing with your head on the pillow, you gasp, chest rising and falling dramatically as you struggle to catch your breath again.

He leans down and hovers over you, waiting as you do, staring into your eyes.

“I’ll make certain you know this is not a dream.” He promises, then leans down to press his lips against yours.

You sigh, grateful for his taste as if it were a drug, removing an ache you’ve been feeling all day. Your arms come up on their own, trapping his torso down on yours as his hands trace your sides slowly.

This time you’re the one seeking more, pressing the tip of your tongue against his lips until he opens them and kisses you back.

He inhales your kiss, breathing in until you hear the vibration of a moan rip through him into you and you have never felt your body burn this way before.

You want him to make more sounds like that. Over and over if possible.

He pulls away too quickly, making you lift your head to follow him, but you fall back onto the bed, gasping for breath.

“Do you really trust me?” Thor checks again, his hands moving down along your sides until they stop at your hips, hands flexing and squeezing.

You’re shifting on his sheets, body squirming from energy you don’t recognize.

You know that he probably needs to be close to someone like this after today. After whatever he lost with Jane, even if he won’t let you see just how much it really hurt him, he probably needs this closeness.

“Yes.” You breathe.

With one hand he reaches down, staring into your eyes as he does. He finds the bottom hem of your dress and flips his hand underneath, then takes hold of your ankle.

He turns to face your feet, sliding down to the end of the bed then removes the flats you’d switched into, along with the thick socks you’d found to fight the cold.

It’s so chilly in here you shiver.

“You won’t be cold for long, cherub.” He promises.

After dropping your shoes on the floor, he rises then crawls onto the bed to where your feet are, grabbing hold of your ankles to pull your legs open a little.

“Easy.” He tells you gently. “You’ll still be a maid on our wedding night. This will be just a taste.”

He flips your skirt over his head, disappearing from view.

You push yourself up onto your elbows, curious and just as nervous until you feel the pressure of something wet slide up along your slit and you throw your head back, an uncontrollable moan ripping through your lips.

You hadn’t realized the taste would be for him.

[glowingbadger]

Okay I’m the person that sent the yuri with male s/o request, can I change it to sfw and nsfw headcanons for yuri with male s/o? Maybe the nsfw hcs could have toys involved? (Sorry for sending in two things just ignore the first one-)

No need to apologize at all! I'm more than happy to give Yuri the lovely male Reader he deserves, because as the youth say, we stan a Bi King.

((I assumed cis male here, but certainly let me know if that's not what you intended!))

Yuri (FE3H) x Male Reader Headcanons

SFW (Not sfw below the cut)

- Yuri may be a bit of a relief for my mlm fellows out there, because with him, there's very little doubt when he's interested in you. You won't have any of those "is he flirting or just joking/being friendly" issues when he brushes fingers along your cheek and details how "the torchlight of the Abyss suits you" and that the glint of it in your eyes is simply tantalizing. He'll of course have a chuckle at your adorably flustered expression at this.

- in fact, while Yuri is a tease with all of his partners, it could be argued that he enjoys it even more with a man. He gets a thrill out of crumbling any veneer of machismo someone may try to cling to when he knows they would gladly melt into his arms. He takes this same humorous, almost mocking attitude towards gender roles and gender expectations as a whole, often calling you his "knight in shining armor" or his "blushing maiden" in jest. Yuri finds the romantic tropes and standards of the nobility positively quaint.

- if you're not already a makeup wearing guy, Yuri insists he has the perfect way to accent your eyes- and if you agree to try it, having him do your makeup is actually a very intimate and tender experience. He sits facing you on his bed and leans close, using his hands to direct your face this way and that into the right angles for him, completely free and comfortable with how he touches you. Speaking softly, he'll explain his process and guide you gently all the while, until finally, with a genuine smile, he says, "there you are- lovely." His hand cups your face as he takes a moment to observe you, then presses a lingering kiss to your lips.

- Overall, Yuri has a strong sense of self and very little outward shame about the way he chooses to live his life, so his relationship style with a man is really no different than that with a woman, regardless of what the socialites of Fodlan society may have to say about it (admittedly, we have no canon idea of what Fodlan thinks about homosexuality, other than what we can infer). He's a coy and playful, yet in truth, endlessly affectionate partner, who would do anything necessary to make you happy and keep you safe.

NSFW 18+ v

- Yuri is a comfortable and experienced switch- more than happy to fuck you senseless, or offer himself to you in turn (hell, both in a night if you can keep up). Naturally, he's wonderful at prepping you. He's likely to have several different types of lubricant on hand, more than happy to experiment with what you might like best. He'll be so steady and thorough about plunging his fingers into you to open you up for him that it's hard to resist cumming just from the way his touch curls within you, stimulating you until you're rock hard and leaking for him.

- The prep stage is also where Yuri is most likely to want to try out some toys on you. He has no shame about collecting a wide range of dildos and plugs for use on either or both of you- but his favorite part of fucking you with these is to coyly whisper to you, "What feels better, dearest Y/N- a toy, or my cock? Come on, louder, be honest for me. Mmm, that's right- what your body really needs is for me to fill you up, isn't it. Well, if you're very good for me, perhaps I can satisfy you."

- I have to imagine that true sex toys as we imagine them are limited, given the setting of FE3H, but Yuri is an adventurous sort by nature. He loves to tease you with a ribbon tied snug (though not painfully so) at the base of your cock, acting as a sort of improvised cock ring. The contrast of your manhood decorated with such a soft and delicate accent makes him hungry for you, eager to tease you to the edge of your climax so he can untie you at just the right moment, and watch the relief of being allowed to cum freely wash through you.

- This is something Yuri enjoys with any type of partner, but he loves to cum inside of your little hole, then fill you with a plug to keep his load inside of you for as long as you can stand it. I've mentioned before that he gets a thrill out of the contrast between his partner's daily life, and the lewd and depraved side they show him in bed. As such, he adores watching you go about your business for the day knowing that you're holding his cum in your body all the while.

- As a bottom, he's definitely a mouthy brat, possibly even more of a tease than usual. He'll goad you into fucking him deeper, harder, stroking his own cock and grinding onto your length all the while. His favorite aspect of bottoming for another man is the moment when his partner finally lets go of all restraint and mindlessly fucks him, harnessing any aggression or passion to simply pound him into the mattress. Still, he'll just about never loose composure- even as your slam your cock into him, he'll bite his lip and groan your name and murmur, "That's right, Y/N, have me as hard as you like- you feel so good, you can use my body until you're satisfied..."

[vydante]

Restart | END | Avengers x Male! Reader

I am discontinuing my Restart series because I've simply lost creative juices for it. That's it, no elaborate or other reason. Anyways, I didn't want to just end it on the last chapter, and as someone who loves to overshare (especially if it's unsolicited), I thought some might like to see what drafts I had in plan, going chapter by chapter.

It goes up to Ch. 20 with additional bonus chapters, and chapters where I wasn't sure where they were going to be placed in the timeline.

If you have any comments, let me know! I'd love to read them :)

Here goes! Warning: very long, since the formatting is weird! The reader will be referred to as (Name) and "you", as in the story.

Right after Ch. 12 (Circumvention), are 2 special chapters (High Caliber Bullet) & (America's Sweethearts).

(High Caliber Bullet)'s basic plot was that Barnes, now # amount of weeks since the last chapter, has gained some freedoms and can now go out and about with either (Name) or DAHLIA for supervision (via his phone, and through the cameras everywhere).

In this particular chapter, he basically goes out for a typical grocery run with DAHLIA "accompanying" him, since before, he remembers (Name) telling him that "I won't always be there with you". But something bad happens! Wooo! (Maybe an attempted robbery, I didn't have the details sorted out yet.)

Either way, DAHLIA loses contact with him, and she tries to contact you ASAP, but it takes a little while since your dumbass was asleep the whole time! Wow! The suit had to manually power on and shake you awake.

Anyways, the only thing I had "written down" after that was that, after a failed search attempt for James, you go back home and are greeted with a surprise... "Kabedon"? Or, you're pinned to the walls by James... Or, rather, the Winter Soldier! 

You're not sure what's going on, only that, "Wow, Barnes is acting weird. Why is he suddenly Russian? Wh- Okay, wow, he's suddenly gotten a lot closer. Now, wait a fuckin' minute-!"

Either way, you and James make a discovery of a second personality living inside his body- the Soldier! Or Winter, I'm still unsure which I would have gone for. If you're familiar with certain WinterIron tropes, this is one of them. Anyways, that's the end of that chapter, or what I had written so far, anyway.

This chapter is really important to the canon of Restart since it establishes Soldier, but it didn't fit into my initial plans of 10 chapters an arc, so. That's why it's a "special" chapter.

The next "special" chapter after that was (America's Sweethearts). I had written 2 "chunks" of text for this chapter. The main plot is, basically, you and Steve spent a platonic (promise!) Valentine's Day together. Hence the title. Cute, right? This was referenced in Ch. 9 (Revelation) during Future! Steve's reminiscing.

Anyways, below the next text is what I had written for that chapter. It will be in normal text.

No other thoughts on that, so let's move on.

"You live like this?"

In his defense, Steve's apartment wasn't messy in the slightest. In fact, it was the other way around- everything was too clean, too pristine, too detached. The only saving grace he's getting from standing in the middle of his apartment is the fact that compared to the chilly Brooklyn weather, it was almost obnoxiously warm in his apartment. 

Not only did he have the heater going on, but he had another separate, portable heater blasting hot air in the corner.

(Sometimes, and only sometimes, Steve will stand in front of the heater and slowly spin around like a rotisserie chicken. The heat feels good, in his defense.)

The heat was something that you, thankfully, didn't comment on as you shed your jacket and slung it around the coat hanger near the door. You're wearing an over-sized tee- Thor's tee, he absentmindedly notes- and some sweats, both like and unlike the (Name) he often sees.

(It's not uncommon for Steve to glance at a newspaper or TV still shot and see you with your hair slicked back and dressed head to toe in a suit so expensive he's confident it costs at least a few years' worths of a typical New Yorker's rent.

Neither is uncommon to see you on the front cover of Men's Magazine, wearing a simple tee that shouldn't look that good on you but still does and posing confidently for the camera.

But despite all that, all of the clearly flattering outfits you could possibly wear at the tips of your fingers, often Steve will see you wear a disparagingly obnoxious, dirty shirt, and an old pair of sweats as your go-to outfit.)

(No, he will never admit that he really likes seeing you like that. Even with the mysterious smudged substance often found on the bottom of your sweats, as if you had swing danced in mud and crude oil.)

Regardless, while he often questions your private life fashion choices (and this is coming from a man who willingly wears khakis), he at least knows why you're wearing what you are, given the fact that he's also dressed in an overused tee and some joggers.

"What's wrong with my apartment? Not up to par with your penthouse standards?" Steve jests.

"Steve. Please." You threw him an unimpressed glare, much to Steve's never-ending amusement.

You glanced back to the inside of the apartment and squinted at it with what Steve could only describe as a rich man's scrutinizing gaze, before shrugging nonchalantly. You strolled into his apartment with a confidence Steve can still never get used to, one that reminds him so much of Tony's, and even Howard on his bad days.

(He understands why Tony doesn't like it when he brings Howard up, as he belatedly realizes that Howard didn't die the same man he knew him as, but he never understood why you've suddenly gotten bitter about Howard as well.)

He follows you into the hallway, and if it weren't for the fact that this was his apartment, he would've looked like a lost puppy following its new owner.

His apartment's not really that big, so it doesn't take long before you've both reached the living room. A simple TV, simple couch, simple table. Nothing really exciting in his living room, but it serves its purposes, in Steve's opinion.

(This is the end of that chunk. Next is where I picked up in writing. Short time skip, they both fall asleep and now Steve's waking up.)

It was the change in the smell that woke him up.

It's always the scent of fresh linen that greeted him early in the morning, something that's become so attuned to his everyday life. So when, instead, popcorn and sweets drifts his way, for a brief second his heart rate jumps.

'What?', his mind asks as he opens his eyes, bleary but cautious.

'Oh,' his mind responds back at him when his eyes drift down to your sleeping form laying splayed right on top of him, body glued to his side. You're mainly hogging the blanket, but he doesn't really mind as he runs hot 24/7. 

'Oh', his mind repeats softly, as something deep unfurls from his stomach and rises to his throat, clenching up and unable to say anything as his eyes fixate themselves on your steady breathing. Your lips are too close to his neck, each breath too warm, even for him. His skin burns where it meets yours, and absently he thinks, 'this is nice'.

'Yeah,' he lifts his hand to brush away a strand of hair away from your eyes, 'This is nice.'

Steve blearily throws a glance at the clock on his nightstand. 4 more minutes until he'd typically wake up and start his day with a morning jog.

'No,' his body protests.

'Okay,' his mind agrees without a fight.

He carefully reaches over and presses the silence button on his alarm. Above him, a breathy exhale escapes your lips at the sudden movement, and if possible, you curl closer to him than you were before. He pauses, unsure if you're going to wake up or not, but relax when he realizes that you're still in a deep slumber.

(Another break. Next sentence was supposed to be the final sentence of the chapter.)

In the end, neither of you commented about how Steve had missed his daily morning run as his limbs were straddled in between yours.

Ch. 13 (Upheaval) and 14 (Airlocked) are short in terms of drafting, so I'll combine them into one section here. Ch. 13 (Upheaval) was about taking down SHIELDRA in a better manner than the mess that was CA:TWS. And (Name) also forces Steve and Natasha to fess up immediately about Tony's parent's murderer. ((Name) threatens them.)

As for Ch. 14 (Airlocked), it's pretty much a filler chapter of sorts. (Name) graduates, there's now an official class-action lawsuit against Ross, also now keeping an eye on Baron Zemo, and we see some progression on Barne's therapy session. Not much, but some.

I really was not looking forward to these two chapters, as I knew they were gonna be boring as hell.

Ch. 15 (Spiralling) has actual written chunks. It's basically about the early prevention of Ultron. The Avengers go to a Sokovian HYDRA base, take out baddies, and the Super Twins get captured first- wow! But not before Wanda does... something to (Name), causing you to hallucinate and lose contact with the team- uh oh!

But don't worry! You get run over by a car. Lol. Below is what I had written for it, sans minor text.

A/N: In Ch. 7 (Summer), there was a 'dream-sequence' that happened where (Name) was on Titan with Tony, Peter, Stephen, and the GOTG. I've now decided that in canon, (Name) was not on Titan- instead, you were on Earth instead during IW helping at Wakanda. Just a brief plot-hole wrap-up; let's imply that (Name) had watched video footage of the fight at Titan via Tony's suit afterward, and that's where the nightmare came from. Okay bye.

(VERY abrupt start into the story, not meant to be the start of the chapter in the final draft, just where I wanted to start writing. Intro to Wanda.)

You jerked your head, catching a glimpse of brunette hair in the corner of your eyes. You swung your gauntlet instinctively and made instant contact with whatever was next to you. Flutters of red wisps followed your eyes, and you instantly knew what just happened as a body dropped next to you. 

You grunted and leaned onto the nearest wall, watching the girl's limp body with caution. Your shoulder plate lifted, and a tranquilizing dart connected to her thigh.

Just in case.

"Guys, I- I've been- ugh..." You wanted to vomit, the pounding in your head worsening with each millisecond that passes. Already, your surroundings distort you with each blink, walls melting and the floor sinking in on itself. "I've been- com-," you swallowed back your bile, "-compromised... Sending- location... Ergh..."

You didn't even have enough time to hear a response before the whole world around you shifted. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to calm your thundering heartbeat. The pounding got worse as the armor around you dissipated into nothing but the under-suit you were wearing. Before, where there were the shouting and gunshots, is now replaced with an eerie silence filled with just your laborious breathing.

You didn't know the full extent of what visions you were about to see, but you needed to remember that none of this is real. Scientifically, that was your only safe haven from possibly losing your mind for what's about to come. And it was worse because you had no idea what visions you'd see. Would you see Thanos? The Chitauri, just like your father once had? Or would it be something more close to home; the bunker? Tony's dead body, splayed with vomit around him, frostbitten to the touch and still like a marbled statue? 

Ready to go up and arms at whatever it was you're about to see, you cautiously opened your eyes.

(Line break, there's meant to be an "oh shit" line, like "Only, you were met with eyes far too similar to yours." but I still didn't know what I wanted to do for the hallucination sequence. Maybe meeting an older you, a younger you, or your dream life without the Avengers or meta-humans.)

(Below is an abrupt shift in the story; same general setting, but outside POV! What I had was dialogue only, alternating between people in bold, as a POV switch.)

(Name) "Guys, I- I've been- ugh... I've been- com-compromised... Sending- location... Ergh..." 

(Steve) "Apex, do you copy? (Name)!" 

(Steve) "Shit, (Name) isn't answering! Tony!"

(Tony) "Got his location, he's inside the base. J.A.R.V.I.S., what's his status?" 

(J.A.R.V.I.S.) "I'm sorry, Sir, but it appears that I am not in contact with his suit." 

(Tony) "Wha- the hell do you mean you're not in contact?!" 

(J.A.R.V.I.S.) "I cannot connect to his suit; it appears that Young Sir has somehow deprogrammed me from his suit." 

(Tony) "Wha-!" 

(J.A.R.V.I.S.) "However, it seems as if there is an A.I. present nonetheless. Though..." 

(J.A.R.V.I.S.) "I do not recognize the code. Would you like me to attempt at forming a mode of communication?" 

(Tony) "Yeah, just- God, make sure (Name)'s okay, please." 

(J.A.R.V.I.S.) "On it." 

(J.A.R.V.I.S.) "Establishing a connection." 

(DAHLIA) "Mister Stark?"

(Tony) "Wha- I'm sorry- who are you?"

(DAHLIA), ignoring Tony, "An enhanced got to (Name). The operative is down, but (Name)'s experiencing hallucinations. I can't get through to him- you need to get to him, now. I fear he may hurt himself more than he already has."

(DAHLIA) "And if I may be privy to a request?"

(Tony) "What?"

(DAHLIA) "Don't bring Rogers." (I don't remember why I wrote this bit.)

(Steve) "Any updates on (Name)?"

(Tony) "Yep, and by the looks of it," there was a loud boom coming from the base, and as Tony looked up to see an all too familiar suit fly out of the building. Or, rather, flying was an interesting way to put it- it was more of a free-falling more than anything else.

(Steve) "What was that?"

(Tony) "That was (Name), and he's not havin' a great time I'll tell you that."

His voice was light and joking, but he'd be lying if he didn't say that his heart wasn't in his throat by the sight of you flying out of the building and falling back into the forests.

(Line break, another POV switch)

Steve sprinted towards the loud boom, movements quick and calculated, but mind racing a thousand miles an hour. He saw a red and gold glint fly up above him, zipping in and out between trees gracefully. 

(Line break, but no switch, same place. Another story POV shift, sort of. Steve makes contact with (Name), or so he thinks.)

"(Name)? Hey, do you copy?"

The suit was eerily silent, glowing eyes that once gave comfort to the soldier now bringing nothing but an awful, gripping dread; one that he'd get when there were Nazi soldiers nearby, but he couldn't tell where even with his enhanced senses. The suit gave away nothing that usually screamed out everything that was you- no head swaying, no restless and constantly shifting feet, only a stillness that looked so unnatural. Almost as if there was no one in there.

"(Name)?"

There was no response from you.

The hairs on Steve's neck stood up, everything in his system suddenly screaming to get out of there, run, leave, get away from the suit, but he ignored it as he took a cautious step forward.

Again, you didn't seem to react.

Then, the suit took a step forward.

Then another one.

And another one.

"(Name)-"

Before he could say anything more, the suit lunged forward. Only for a moment could Steve react, but even he wasn't as fast as you could be when you're in the suit. He raised his shield, ready to be shot at, but only the sound of harsh metal on metal makes it to his ears. By the sounds of it, it sounded like Tony had managed to land a direct hit on you, from wherever position he was at. Cautiously, Steve lowers his shield to look.

But instead of the familiar red and gold suit of armor greeting him, it's the sight of two (color) suits wrestling on the ground with each other that manages to sucker-punch all air from his lungs.

(Basically, you went bat shit insane and got out of the older suit, then prematurely activating the nano suit instead, in a fit of panicked hallucination. The older suit, now operating by DAHLIA, was trying to protect Steve from being ambushed by (Name), and now they're wrestling.)

(Another big break, but I think I had a hallucination sequence from (Name)'s POV planned here. Not sure what I was gonna do here since I planned this like, maybe in 2018, early 2019. It's... 2021 now...)

"-(Name)!"

Your eyes widened as the world around you suddenly shifts out of existence, and instead, you're outside in the dim, snowy alps once again. Someone called out to you, you don't know who, but there's a light in the corner of your eyes that's so goddamn bright. You turn your head in the direction of the light, and amidst all of the yelling and gunshots, DAHLIA's cool, chilling voice rings the loudest in your ear.

"Aborting protoc-"

And then the world turned black.

Ch. 16 (Enflamed) also has written text. Basically, you're recovering from being caught slipping by a car, the team is now aware of certain secrets you've been keeping behind their backs, and you realize that you have to get back to Barnes to let him know you're okay.

This chapter was meant to be focused on the twins, but I guess I forgot that as I was "writing" it. Basically, the gist was that their parent's deaths weren't by officially licensed Stark tech (maybe even a counterfeit since Stark weapons are the best, and don't malfunction as it did in WandaVision ep. 8). Maybe HYDRA was the one that did it in order to recruit more people. Or something like that. Basically, Tony wasn't the one who authorized those weapons to be sold and used there, but it was Stane. Either way, they get their own healthy moment to mourn and lament over it all.

Here's the text below. Italics for a dream sequence, since you were unconscious/ in a coma from being bOnked on by a car.

"Hey, sweetheart."

You smile, turning around to face the voice only to be greeted with lips on yours. You chuckle, amused that this was the first thing you'd be greeted with, but lean into the kiss anyways as you wrapped your fingers around their cheek.

They pull back first, but their eyes are warm as they smile, lingering in the space between the two of you. Where their hands laid on your hips, your skin burned bright hot, but you paid no mind to it. 

(There's supposed to be more, maybe foreshadowing, but I stopped here in terms of the dream sequence. Jump cut to another POV, but you're waking up!)

(Name) "Hnng..."

(Steve) "Stay down! You're in no condition to move at all, just- just rest, okay? The doctors- and- your dad are coming."

(Steve) "How're you feeling? You want some water?"

You tried to turn your head to look at the blonde but hissed suddenly.

(Name) "S'nnof'a' b'ch..." (Son of a bitch.)

Steve helped you settle back onto your pillow- which even he'll admit doesn't look like the most comfortable setting in the world.

"Language, (Name)..."

He reprimanded, but there's no heat in his words as he's just so thankful that you're even capable of forming any words, no matter how profane they may be.

Beside him, Clint laughs a bit too loud for comfort. Steve wants to tell him to be quiet, as he's sure you're sensitive to noise right now, but God he can't blame the archer for his overwhelming relief. 

Lord knows Clint wasn't the only one to stress over their youngest Avenger.

"First words after a damn coma, and it's 'son of a bitch'! I told you he's a fighter!"

"Of course he is, he's a Stark after all."

All eyes turn to see the billionaire and assassin walk into the room. They look clean and pristine as always, but by the slight sheen of sweat on both of them, Steve knew they rushed here as soon as word spread that you were awake.

(Natasha) "Tooting your own horn a little much there?"

Natasha's smile betrays her words as she looks fondly from the senior Stark to the junior. Even the ironclad wall she has up 24/7 has a soft spot for the team's junior member.

(Especially for the junior member, but you didn't hear that from Steve.)

(Tony) "It's both of our horns, excuse you."

Tony turns his attention to you and places a gentle hand on your shoulder.

"You sure took a hit back there, champ."

"Mmm... 'm feel like a... Nn... A damn Make A W'sh kid...", (Mm, am feeling like a damn Make A Wish kid...) your eyes, though blown out from still being drugged up, wandered across each Avenger. You frowned, then smirked- well, as best as you could, anyways. 

"Where's th' Hul'k? T'or?" (Where's the Hulk? Thor? (As a joke, since usually the whole gang visits, but they're missing))

"Relax junior, you're not that special. We can only afford so many Avengers to visit you."

Despite his harsh words, Tony places a kiss right on your forehead. Your eyes flutter closed, lashes delicately batting as Tony leans away.

(Big block of nothing, there were supposed to be more text here, more dialogue or something. Same setting!)

(Tony) "So. We need to talk about what happened back there. Y'know. The brand-smackin' new A.I. that's in your suit- she's been awfully quiet. Oh, and the- lord, the thing's a work of art- the- what is it? Nanite suit? That's in a collar- a collar? I mean, I'm not one to judge questionable fashion statements, but-"

(Steve, or someone else) "Tony."

(Tony) "Right- but, we are going to talk about all that, okay?"

"L'ter, ple's? Am tir'd..." (Later, please? Am tired.)

"An' b'sides, chok'r's fun..." (And besides, chokers are fun.)

(Line break, basically, you remember you have a certain Winter Soldier that's been sitting at home without any word from you.)

’Oh fuck.’

(Big line break, basically, you get discharged from the hospital, and now you visit the safehouse Barnes is in to check up on him.)

It was eerily quiet when you opened the door to the safe house. You limped into the door, thankful that the ride on the way back, there were no paparazzi to see you leave at all. (Really, Happy should get a raise.) Lord knows how much of a rile that'll get out of the news media.

'Avengers' Golden Boy: Fatally Injured?' or something dumb like that.

You'd love to roll your eyes, but the tension that's coiling up in your gut surpasses the want as you slowly step into the house. It's warm, more so than the slow brewing chill that's been tempering outside. James never liked the cold, but even so, the house was warmer than you remembered. His shoes are still near the doorway, in the exact place that you remembered it to be, so he definitely hasn't gone anywhere.

(Though, the alerts that were on your phone from DAHLIA definitely show that he wanted to.)

For a brief moment, you were concerned that there wasn't enough food; but even then, DAHLIA would still be up, so she could place an online order to refill the fridge at a moment's notice, so it's not like James (even with his super-soldiered appetite) would starve himself here.

You quietly slipped out of your shoes, slowly as to not incur another cramp in your back, and stepped into the hallway barefooted. You glance into each room you pass by, but not a single sign of the soldier was anywhere to be found.

You stopped when you stood in front of one specific lounge room; yours and James' favorite lounge room.

Lurking into the room, you glanced around.

The room looked exactly like how it did days before when you were still conscious. There are a few mugs strewn about. Most empty, conjoined in one area of the table (James' area), but there's one that's filled with your favorite drink. A drink that you don't remember making for yourself.

And it's placed right in front of your favorite chair, too. Something squeezes at your heartstrings as you couldn't help but smile fondly.

It's gone cold, you absently note as you dip a finger into it. Wiping your finger on your pants, you grabbed it and the rest of the empty cups, making a note to place them into the dishwasher when you make it into the kitchen.

"James?"

You called out, but only your voice echoed back. The cups quietly rattled with each step, and it's not long before you make it into the kitchen. It, too, looks the same, but there's a thin layer of dust only a clean freak would notice. The sink is empty and clear of any beads of water. Unused for a little bit, you concluded.

Yeesh.

You placed all of the cups into the dishwasher, which was also dry and empty as well. Sighing, you turned on the machine and jumped out of your skin when you felt a pair of built arms wrap themselves around you tightly.

It only takes a split second for you to realize that, no, this is not some ax murderer that's about to choke the life out of you, it's just James.

James who, apparently, is holding you flush against his chest, fingers curling themselves against your bandaged abdomen. You held back a wince of pain, careful not to make your breathing waver, as James nuzzle his whole head against the crook of your neck. 

(Honestly, for someone named the Winter Soldier, he sure is warm because whew, boy-)

"Ja-"

"I thought you were gone."

His name is caught in your throat as James' voice- gritty, deep, unused- rumbles into your skin. You freeze, unsure of what to say to that as you shuddered, suddenly breathless as he mouths at your neck. Your ears turn bright red as he takes that moment to speak up, not once letting up on his fingers ghosting a trail on each muscle on your abdomen.

"You were gone. One second you were in my arms, and the next... The next, DAHLIA's tellin' me you're in a damn coma."

You winced, not sure how to respond to both what he said or the growl that accompanied it. You looked up at the camera that was in a nearby corner and threw it a withering glance, feeling slightly betrayed by DAHLIA for telling James that.

Thankfully (or probably not), James isn't really looking for a response as he continues on.

"Моя звездная пыль (My stardust)," Russian slips out, bringing a chill up your spine as bits of Winter spills out from James' fingertips, "The witch got to you, didn't she?"

Goosebumps raised on your skin, and to your silence, James snarled. You can barely feel his teeth graze on your nape, and you really don't know if you should feel embarrassed or something else.

And wow, okay, maybe you should tell James to ease up on the "hug", because holy shit, his grip's getting tighter and it's starting to actually hurt.

(Ah, he might tear the stitches.)

"HYDRA сукa...! Я убью ее...!" (HYDRA bitch...! I'll kill her...!)

You huffed, still red in the face as he hasn't even nudged away from letting you go. You patted his forearm, signaling for him to loosen up his grip, and to his credit, he does. Barely, but it was still something. 

"I dunno what ya' just said in Russian, but I know what Hydra сукa means. No cussing in Russian, only in English."

He mumbles something incoherent into your shoulder, rubbing circles into your stomach with a tantalizingly slow speed. You coughed; in literally any other situation this would be one of the hottest things you've ever experienced, but considering that James was more Winter than James right now, and your stomach is literally burning in pain from the rubbing, you opted to ignore the fact that you really liked that James was this close and spoke up.

"Not to alarm you or anything, but uh, if you keep rubbing my stomach like that," your breath hitched, the pain starting to become a little too much, "I'm gonna pass out from the pain," you said, with clenched teeth.

(End of what I had written down. Anyways, not sure where I was gonna go from here.)

Ch. 17-20 are relatively short in terms of what I had written down.

Ch. 17 (Reconditioning) has 3 things typed down:

integrating the twins, thoughts of integrating bucky

supreme distrust between you and the twins

meanwhile maybe thoughts from twins abt you? you're around their age 

3rd bullet introduces the idea that they might be love interests. Maybe. Shrugs. That chapter would be heavier on the character developments of the twins, both as their own persons and their relationship with you, specifically. They don't like you because you're Tony's son, still some bitter feelings there, and you don't like them because... Well... there's just a lot of bad feelings. They helped kill J.A.R.V.I.S. in your original timeline. Wanda basically fucked off with Vision. She antagonized Tony. (And there is a hypocrisy there since I would've written you to have done the same thing there. (Name) isn't perfect.)

You just didn't get along with Pietro since, back when he wasn't dead, you were immature and not yet accustomed to dealing with people who're purposefully frustrating/ teasing/ mocking/ etc. Nothing really personal with him, it's Wanda that you had beef with. But you'll get over it one day.

Ch. 18 (Longstanding) is shorter.

you and james have a talk, and after a year or two being solitary, you agree that he should be in the avengers

he joins the avengers

That's it, that's the chapter.

Ch. 19 (Accountability) deals with newer Accords (not a Sokovian one! Just from the proposed need for accountability).

It goes better around this time, as basically all of the Avengers agree to it, with their own caveats of course. Steve especially, but of course, he's willing to work with the governments about it this time around. Also, Peter Parker gets introduced, in accordance with the "underaged enhanced/ superheroes" clause, or some bull like that.

Ch. 20 (Wakanda) is basically the intro to CA:CW but like, civilized. No bombing since Zemo still has his family. Introduces Wakanda, and T'Challa as a potential love interest. If you're interested in IronPanther, I highly recommend reading the IronPanther Collection by Okyverlo on AO3. It's great and got me a lot of interest in T'Challa as a love interest.

As for official chapters with the plot, that's about it. I wasn't sure what to do afterward.

There were some loose ideas I had about what would happen to (Name). Maybe the truth is revealed, that you're actually from the future, and Dr. Strange separates past and future you into two separate bodies. Future! you into your original future body, and past! you into the current body. Past! you still have the same memories and thoughts that future! you had, but with less angst. Future! you is noticeably more depressed and just a bummer. Lol.

And after that, 2023! you would go back to the future where you belonged, and Past! you would stay in the present since, duh, that's still Past! you's original timeline. It's a little confusing when I type it down haha.

I was thinking maybe 2023! you would pair up with Steve since you realized how burdensome it is to continue to resent someone. Now you understood what Tony meant.

And Past! you would definitely pair up with James, but maybe Steve too. A nice lil' polygamous relationship. 

Now here's the other, non-official chapters.

2 What If's, and 3 Specials, in the order they're listed at the moment.

What If (2013 Counterpart) plays with an initial idea I had, where Past! (Name) was actually sent into the future into 2023! (Name)'s body during the prologue. Not sure where I was gonna go with this chapter, but I really wanted to mess with that possibility, and show just how immature and teenager-y Past! you were.

What If (Swapped Places) plays with the idea that you and Tony, in the original timeline, had swapped places. You were on Titan with Spiderman, Dr. Strange, and the GOTG, while Tony was on Earth with everyone else. That's all I had planned. Maybe you actually won and managed to get the gauntlet off of Thanos when you realized that Peter Quill was about to go crazy over his ex's death, and you knocked him down in time.

Special (Find My Body, Only At The Oak Tree), deals with you and your depression over the reality that you might have to relive the blip again, and aside from the Avengers, you really don't have anyone else and nothing's worth really living for at this point. I actually have a lot written for this one. Not sure if I wanted this to be canon.

Trigger warning: suicidal tendencies.

(Below is the general idea I had for the plot.)

(names) birthdays across the years so far

we see slow mental deterioration of (name) as he aches

we see as we reach closer and closer to the deadline, (name) dreads even thinking about thanos and wants to die before even looking at him, a symbol of their failure 

lowkey highkey suicidal

___

The first time you celebrated your 17th birthday was in 2014. 

The second time you celebrated your 17th birthday was also in 2014... Obviously. 

The first time you celebrated your 17th birthday, the whole tower was flooded with people who you knew and people who you couldn't care to know. It was filled with what little was left of your friend group outside of the Avengers; it was also filled with the rich, the pompous, the irritating of New York.

You got into a yelling match with your dad that night, over something you couldn't even bother to remember, and stormed off into your room, fuming as the party still went on without their birthday boy present.

(It's always like that as if you're replaceable. Surely, you must be; the Avengers can and will, if need be, exist without you.)

The second time you celebrated your 17th birthday, you told your dad you wanted it to be small and personal. Only the Avengers were there, as a few days ago did you spend a pre-birthday celebration with some of your high school 'friends' (which only mainly consisted of playing Smash Bros Brawl in your room and eating an ungodly amount of junk food as you fake laughed along with their shitty jokes.) (Steve promptly made you burn those calories off in training.).

(What Steve doesn't know is that you purposefully ate that much to train with him; otherwise, you had the whole day off the next day.

You didn't want to be alone.)

It was sweet as everyone gave their gifts to you (which you already knew what it was, but said nothing of it), and as everyone got drunk off of the expensive liquor or Asgardian mead, you quietly snuck out of the building and back into the safe house where James was waiting for you.

(He waits, but how much of it is because he has no other choice?

It is not like that, you keep reminding yourself.

Who is to say, other than you?

James never says anything of it, and you start to wonder if he feels as if he has no choice.

As if he feels like he's been made another prisoner, once again.

At what point, what is separating the distinction between you and HYDRA, in his mind?

You're not too keen on finding out the answer anytime soon.)

The whole way there, you thought of nothing in particular.

You quietly celebrated with him too, shared a few slices of cake he made just for you before you quietly said goodnight to him. He kissed you on the cheek, said a simple goodnight, and slipped away into his own bedroom.

Meanwhile, you spent the rest of the night drinking too much alcohol, alone, in the dark of your room, staring at nothing in particular, thinking about nothing in particular.

The next morning, you jokingly wished you had just died last night as you're bent over the toilet emptying your stomach contents.

___

The first time you celebrated your 18th birthday, you spent it outside in another country with your friends.

The second time you celebrated your 18th birthday party, you rented out a bumper kart arena with the Avengers.

The first time you celebrated your 18th birthday, you tried desperately to hang onto the remaining friends you had outside of the Avengers, a chance to feel normal for once. You practically went hiking across Europe and into Asia over the week of your birthday, and by God did you visit so many places. From the Louvre to the casinos in New Deli, you trekked everywhere with your friends and acted as a cash pig for their endeavors under the guise of celebrating your birthday. Least to say, you always got 'accidentally' blackout drunk on multiple occasions, oblivious to their actions.

Later you found out and cut them off instantly without another word. They didn't seem to notice that you stopped talking to them.

It hurt.

Pointless of you to try to maintain that friendship.

So on your next 18th birthday, having long forgone those friendships ages ago, you suggested going bumper karting with the Avengers. Bruce operated as the 'coach' of sorts, but he seemed to have enjoyed it as well. 

It was fun, obviously.

It went on for a few hours, as you all had made up mini-games to play along with as they got bored of chasing after each other aimlessly for half an hour. A few games had you pairing up with some of the Avengers; the other had them actually using their skills to try to maim each other.

(Wanda at one point lifted everyone into the air as Pietro zoomed through the rink; though, he did slip and slam into the wall. Everyone laughed, but it was interrupted as Wanda promptly dropped everyone out of shock.

Everyone was too busy in their own shock as well to notice your labored breathes, wild crazed eyes, or how you clawed viciously at your throat at the sight of Wanda's red wisps. Your fingers were tinted a sick vermilion.

Thankfully, the arena was relatively dim, so no one could tell what just happened.)

It was fun. Everyone didn't hold their shoves back, and when things riled up, it turned into who would break a bone first. No one did, but everyone was definitely sore afterward. Of course, the enhanced ones didn't limp as much, but it made your limp nothing out of the ordinary.

(You tried your most damn not to just collapse completely, both exhaustion and pain threatening to snap your spine into little bits and pieces.

You jokingly wished it did.)

Thankfully, during the whole ordeal, no one noticed how you didn't avoid obvious hits, instead opting to just get harshly jostled in your kart and neck snapped haphazardly to the side at the sudden jolt. Or how you 'accidentally' keep forgetting to put on your seat belt or keep your fingers inside the kart.

Or at least, if they noticed, no one said anything as you limped around the tower the next day, bruises marred everywhere on your skin, a sheen of sweat blanketed on your skin throughout the whole day.

___

The first time you celebrated your 19th birthday, you were too swamped with both college and SI to actually... Celebrate.

You didn't even realize it was your birthday. No one did, actually; it took one of your professors to comment on how your name was trending on Twitter to actually get you to realize what the day was.

But even that didn't change your schedule, and as you moved on with your day, so did Twitter and the Avengers. 

You never got to celebrate your 19th birthday, too swamped with other things to care.

The second time you celebrated your 19th birthday, you had too much free time in the world.

It ended up being just like your 17th. The Avengers had a little get-together (they remembered this time; what made it so different?) and all of them got drunk wildly off their asses. Once again, you slipped away from the main lounge, and stalked silently, blank-faced, towards a balcony.

You adjusted your collar appropriately and stood there. You stared outside into the bustling busy streets of New York, the city that never sleeps.

(Strange, that it's named that when often times it's the quietest whenever you're there to see it.)

You spend maybe 10 minutes standing there, staring into the oblivion that is New York.

And then, you climbed onto the railings.

Standing there, there was no rush of adrenaline that coursed its way through your veins, nor was there any fear or dread.

Only an overwhelming and crippling exhaustion that made waves through your body. No longer are you in your 19-year-old body, but your 27th. No longer are you in your younger, former self; one that shone brightly above the others, aspiring as both a heroic figure and one that would help pave the way towards a better, peaceful world.

No, instead, your soul feels like it's settled deep into your bones, an aching tire that keeps rocking and rattling at your already fractured, beaten down body, laughing at how pathetic you look.

(You're so tired.

You just wanted to live normally.

You never can, you eventually come to realize on your first 24th birthday.

That thought, now fully realized, would come to permeate it's way deep into your bones.)

All you wanted to do was to just take one step forward, off of the railing that you're so delicately balanced upon, and dive into air headfirst.

Really, all it takes is just one step.

And truly, you've never felt more at peace as your body dropped from the railings, descended quickly towards the streets below you.

What should've been a quick few seconds of a dive felt like an eternity drowning in a bottomless pool. The lights of New York flashed and beamed at you, but it changed rapidly from one to another. Your throat closes, shuttering, and you want so desperately to start screaming.

Only, no one would hear them. 

The winds would carry away your screams, rushing a sound of its own that would overpower yours.

You wonder, absently, was this similar to what Rhodey felt that day? 

Well.

You'd never really find out, now, will you?

Too late to ask.

(There's no way to get back home.

You can never see Morgan again- the Morgan that called you her big Care Bear, the Morgan that cried and threw a temper tantrum because you forgot to give her a goodnight kiss. 

You can never see mom and dad again- while they're still here, it's just not the same. You'll never get to see the same Pepper who was so relieved just to see you alive after the Battle of Wakanda, even if you were practically on your death bed. You'll never get to see the same Tony who you spent hours crying into the shoulder of after the Blip.

You can never see the same Steve, Natasha, Rhodey, anyone, ever again. 

Years spent just trying to be better, to help the world, to mend and build any relationships you could, gone.

And even if they weren't?

There's just no way to get back home anymore. Not back to the person you used to be.)

The next day, you got an earful from your parents when photos of your falling body appear all over the internet. All the meanwhile, you're not really listening to them, just staring right back at them.

Odd.

('When did you start looking at me with contempt?', you'd ask one day.

Tony just stares at you, then out the window. In his hand, he's holding a cup of coffee; in yours, water. You've since stopped drinking anything remotely sugary, caffeinated, or alcoholic, though you've never told anyone why.

'When did you start mistaking concern with contempt.', he responded, though it was more of a statement rather than a question.

You stared at him, then followed his gaze out the window. 

Neither of you says anything, even as the hours go by in the blink of an eye.)

(That's all I had written down so far. Not sure where I wanted to go with this afterwards.)

Special (Vapidity, Testament To Absence) deals with future DAHLIA realizing what it means to mourn someone.

The house is empty.

It is an irrelevant thought, DAHLIA notes.

Technically speaking, the house has been empty quite often than not; after all, you were a busy man with an equally busy schedule. Being the CEO of SI and a huge contributing factor to the world's rebuilding made it more or less impossible for you to stay at home for long. Though, she also doesn't linger long in the house, either. But she's still there regardless, even if she's also with you on the other side of the planet for diplomatic reasons.

She knows of the emptiness inside this house; it was never an unfamiliar concept.

But with this emptiness, she's never once associated loneliness with it either. 

It's a bit better when Virginia occasionally comes around to the house to do some maintenance. She might even bring along little Morgan with her.

("You keep saying she's a pest, but I know I sure as hell ain't the one that keeps shifting the TV to the kids' channels when she's around," you comment, not even taking your eyes off of the pan. DAHLIA says nothing towards your accusations, instead opting to tell you that you're burning your eggs.

You aren't, but she says nothing amidst your panic.)

A few others occasionally visit, too, much to DAHLIA's internal disapproval.

Rogers used to visit every day ever since she first noted the emptiness. His behavior was also peculiar. He'd prowl around the house, pausing here and there at random parts of the house. He'd often just... Stand there, seemingly looking at nothing for a long period, before jolting back and continue what he was doing. She's thankful that he hasn't noted her silence when he's around.

Often Banner would come along too, and he'd be talking quietly with Rogers. As of recently, they've stopped visiting though. Probably because of the recent news (that (Name) might still be alive, just lost in time), DAHLIA almost bitterly notes.

James ("Just call him Rhodey- literally no one calls him James nowadays." you laugh, eyes crinkling with amusement) visits too. He doesn't linger for long, but he makes sure to check up on DAHLIA, help tend to the flowers... She'd even dare say she wishes he'd visit more often.

Peter also visits here and there as well. He often comes with Morgan and Virginia, but there have been a few occasions where he's come here by himself. He'd spend most of his time in the garden, your favorite place. And when he's alone, she'd given him privacy out of respect, but even at a long distance, she can hear him talking by himself. He'd come back eyes red and swollen, but he's always smiling afterward.

A few others have visited too, but not as often as the others. Though, none of that really helps negate the emptiness she feels as she wordlessly navigates through a routine she devoted herself to after your disappearance.

And the final chapter, Special (Chemically Compromised) is basically a fluff filler with (Name) chaperoning Peter's field trip, inspired by an Instagram post.

Written in bits and pieces, unfinished. Not sure if I wanted it to be romantic (the name implies it in a nerdy way) or just a fun, platonic, "dude you're literally embarrassing me" way.

(Peter) "I can't believe you're doing this...!"

(Name) "What? What's wrong with this?"

Pan to (Name) dressing like he's a Typical, Normal Civilian Man, but it's clearly (Name) Stark, son of Tony Stark, and an Avenger.

(Peter) "I don't need you to chaperone my field trip...! May could've done this-"

(Name) "No, she really couldn't, sweetheart. She's got a busy shift, and even told me that no one else's parents was free."

(Name) "Listen- this really could have gone worse if, say, Tony, knew. God knows Tony would've dropped everythin' and just embarrass ya- he did that shit to me every chance he got," Peter winces, almost forgetting that Tony was still your dad, and a chill ran up his spine as he imagined what it would have been like for you. 

(Peter) "But still..."

(Name) "Don't worry, I'll just wear a cap and sunglasses."

(Peter) "That can't possibly work."

(Name) "You'd be surprised- Sam's standin' down there, right near that phone booth."

Peter's head snapped over to where you were pointing at, and indeed, right on the floors of the Manhattan streets, there was a relatively built black guy that's wearing a cap, sunglasses, and a brown leather jacket. Peter tilted his head.

He hasn't been around Sam all that much, but he still knows what the Avenger looked like. But even then, he wasn't sure if that man was actually Sam. He's built right, but Peter can't see much of his hair or eyes. Plus, he's kind of far away.

He squinted at the man, before glancing back at you, now unsure of himself.

(Peter) "That's really the Falcon?"

You stared at him, before snorting.

(Name) "Nah, I'm joshin' ya, that's just some random guy...", you glance at the man, sniffing, "... Probably."

That's... pretty much it. That's all I had for Restart, as far as writing goes.

Now here are some closing thoughts, just to wrap all of this up nice and tight, sort of.

I'm not really happy with how the initial chapters were paced and how they were written. My writing style has mildly changed, and if I had the motivation to, I'd love to rewrite them. But alas, I don't.

I think about this story often; or at least, variations of it. It's like when you daydream, and you restart it but to the left. But unfortunately, writing a plot without too many plot holes while remaining as canonically correct as possible, and making it interesting without being a complete word-by-word remake of the movies, is difficult.

I'm not sure if I would ever pick up this story again, especially since this whole chapter told you what I had in store anyways. 

Thank you to those who took the time out of their day to write nice and encouraging comments about this story. It's unfortunate it had to end this way, but I'm glad it happened anyways. And hopefully, it's the same for you.

And remember: the one thing writers love to do is talk about their story! If you have any other comments, questions, or just general thoughts about the story, I'd love to discuss it further!

Anyways. If you're reading this now, thanks for sticking with Restart for as long as you did.

_____

Masterlist

_____

I know I had people on the tagged list, but it’s a bit hard to get them all as URL’s change, so I opted not to. Sorry!