#pie makers nightmares

[rucysims]

Recipe for Chef John's Cornish Pasty Skirt steak, onions, potatoes, and turnips are the main ingredients in Chef John's straightforward recipe for Cornish pasties. 1 pinch cayenne pepper, 2 tablespoons butter cut into 8 thin slices, 1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper, 2 ounces cold butter, 1 teaspoon water, 1 large egg beaten, 2/3 cup ice water or as needed, 1/2 cup diced onion, 12 ounces beef skirt steak cubed, 1.5 teaspoons salt, 1 cup diced Yukon Gold potatoes, 3 ounces cold lard, 1/3 cup diced turnip, 4 cups bread flour

[honiebeaswriting]

40 Weeks

Chapter 1

part 1

I shouldn’t have told her. I knew from the beginning that I should have kept it a secret. Telling my mother that I was pregnant was the biggest mistake of my life. Now here I am, forced to leave my home and move to the small town of Forks, Washington. Forced to leave my little siblings that I raised, forced to leave the city I grew up in, forced to leave my friends and family that I made. Now here I am, going from bus station to bus station, moving through city to city in order to get to Forks.

Forks was a small cold town. Almost always under cloud and always near freezing. It would be a shock to go from my bright sunny California to this icy place. The bus was small and packed. The smell of body odor and weed took over my senses. I didn’t mind the weed, but I definitely couldn't wait to escape the stench of the teen next to me. But after enough time and more than enough stops, I made it to my destination. 

I walked as carefully as I could, making sure that I wouldn’t trip on the frozen ground. I navigated my way through the streets to get to my sweet grandparents house. My new safe haven. I got lost only 3 times before I found the small green cabin. Two cars sat in the driveway, an old blue Ford truck, and a new Subaru. Walking up the steps to the front door I knocked. 

My grandmother opened the door, “Oh sweet pea, you made it okay! You were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago. Was your bus late?”She said with a warm smile on her face, wrapping me in a hug. 

“No, just got a little lost is all.” I mumbled into her shoulder. I was trapped in her arm and for a moment I felt safe. Only for a moment. 

“Well come in! Welcome home dear.” 

“Thank you,” I said, just wishing for this nightmare to be over. I love my grandparents as much as I love my little siblings. But my little siblings need me more than my grandparents do. They still need me. Yet here I am, living in my grandparents home, while they lived with our druggy parents. While they took care of themselves. While they attempted to survive. 

Walking into the cabin I smelt pumpkin pie and my grandfather’s favorite candles. I walked into the kitchen. 

“Well look who it is, little trouble maker!” My grandfather said, a large smirk on his face. 

“Oh Will don’t be so rude, it’s not her fault she’s having a sweet little miracle!” My grandmother squealed. 

“Oh Love she knows I’m kidding. Come here kiddo give me a hug.” He opened his arms for a hug and I entered them happily. My grandfather was my best friend growing up. He taught me how to provide for myself and subsequently my little siblings. He taught me how to find people that I love and trust. He taught me how to survive, and maybe he could teach me how to live. 

“Don’t worry about me, I'm fine grandma.” I can take it. I thought. I’ve dealt with worse, far worse. 

“Look, let's just get straight to the point,” My grandfather said, not wanting to beat around the bush. 

“Oh let the kid settle in darling, they just got here!” My grandmother said, wanting me to rest. 

“No it’s fine he’s right let's get this over with. I brought my birth certificate and my social security card. So I’m all set. I can get enrolled in the high school this week and get a job too. I’ll pay rent and everything, I don’t want to be a burden-“

My grandmother cut me off, “Oh dear, we already got you enrolled in the high school. You also don’t need a job or to pay rent. You are growing a baby inside you, we would never make you do something like that. And we already got you a doctor appointment with Dr. Cullen.” Grandmother gently grabbed my hand, trying to be as supportive as possible.

“But we do have a few rules, Number 1 don’t stay out past eleven. Number 2, go to school.” Grandpa paused to think,  “That’s about all I got actually.” My grandfather said with a smile on his face. His round red cheeks stretched so his smile lines disappeared. 

I was grateful that I didn’t need a job, I would still get one to make sure I had enough cash for me and the baby. But I was worried about school. I haven’t been to school since middle school. I dropped out before I even finished the 8th grade. 

“Okay, thank you.” I said, letting calmness wash over me. 

“Go upstairs and see your room baby. Get some rest and get cleaned up. You smell like a bus. Tomorrow we will go school shopping and then you will start school Monday.” She finished the conversation before I could respond. I could tell she didn’t want me to argue. Though, I wouldn’t argue, I would do anything to live in a warm house I didn’t have to pay for. 

I left the kitchen and moved upstairs. The room was small but big enough for me and the baby. I wasn’t planning on living here long, just until I turned 18 and had enough money for my own apartment. The decor of the room was beautiful, I could tell my grandmother picked it out. The walls were gray and the accents of the room were sage green. Beautiful I thought.  

And oh, the crib. My grandparents bought me a crib. I couldn’t believe that this was all mine. Ours. It was all ours. I moved to the bathroom, it was in our room and I didnt have to share it. In my old house there was one bathroom and I had to share it with seven different people. So this was a real luxury to me. 

The bathroom was fully stocked with toilet paper along with shampoo and conditioner. They smelt like strawberries, not my favorite but I was more than grateful. 

I undressed, standing in my boxers and sports bra, before turning on the shower. I went into my new bedroom and sifted through my backpack looking for my notebook. I tore out a page and made a list. All the things that I still needed ranging from clothes to hygiene things. I wrote down everything that I would need. I quickly got undressed fully and got into the shower. 

Sunday came far quicker than I could imagine. One minute I was laying my head down to sleep the next I was up and shopping with my grandmother. We had a list of places she wanted to take me. First we went to a small shop in Forks to look for school supplies. I got a backpack, folders, notebooks and pencils. I made sure that I had all the supplies that I would need, then we went to buy me a phone. The phone wasn’t anywhere near new, but it was what I could afford. I didn’t want my grandmother paying for something like that. 

Next we went to a thrift store on the rez.

“This is one of my favorite stores in the area. My friends own it and they like to give me discounts. I just love the fashion too, it’s so beautiful, and don't worry, I’ll make sure to find you good jeans and jackets for school.” My grandmother said with a large smile on her face. Figured she would be more than happy to spend some time with her grandbaby. 

“Thank you for doing this with me grandma, I don’t know what I would do without you.” I mumbled, starting to get tired from all the shopping. I loved shopping but it was an indulgence I could not afford. Still, I was starting to feel drained from all the purchases. 

“Oh you don’t have to thank me! I would do anything for my grandbabies. You should know this. I love you,” She said as we got in the car. I know that she loves me, it's just hard to accept something you have never really had in years. I moved to get into the car and we began driving away. 

The rez wasn’t far from where we were, maybe a 20 minute drive at the max. The trees passed us in a fluid line. I turned my head out the window and gently bounced my knee to the music that was playing. Then I saw it, a ginormous figure running through the trees. It looked like a dog but it was by far the biggest dog I had ever seen. There was no way, no possible way, that this was a dog. Then it disappeared. I decided not to say anything to my grandmother, figuring I was just paranoid over nothing. 

After the brief drive we made it to the shop my grandmother loves. Walking in the shop had a homey feel, full of warm orange lights and simple blue walls to contrast. There were beautiful fairy lights hanging at the entrance and many clothes racks stuffed to the brim with different articles of clothing. 

The clothes were comfy and warm. I tried on different outfits while the owner and my grandmother evaluated them with joy. I mostly got good pairs of jeans with no holes in them (my grandma insisted upon no holes even though I wouldn’t have suggested holes in the first place) and jackets and sweatshirts that were more than warm.

“Is that you Mrs. y/l/n? Oh my goodness it has been so long!” A beautiful tall woman said. She was gorgeous, if she told me to drop dead right now I would. The scar covering half of her face did not take away from the beauty that was this phenomenal creature. “You need to come visit us more often., you know Sam and I would love to have you and your husband for lunch!” 

I looked towards my grandmother, she knew this gorgeous woman?

“Oh I’m sorry that I haven’t visited in so long, love. I have been so busy preparing the room for my grandchild to come stay. Actually, I would like you to meet someone!” My grandmother turned to me with an infectious smile. I looked back at her and towards the new figure. “This is y/n! My grandbaby. Y/N say hello to Emily Uley. Her parents are good friends of mine. She’s not much older than you, you know?” 

I smiled and pulled my hand out of my pocket to give to the woman. “Lovely to meet you Miss Uley. I’m y/n,” I said with as much respect as possible. Emiliy’s phone went off and it caught all of our attention. 

“Oh gosh, okay, sorry to cut this conversation short you two but I need to go home. Sam and his friends got into some trouble in the kitchen and I need to go help. It was so nice to meet you y/n. Have a good day!” She said moving to the front of the store. We waved while she left and a sigh left my lips. 

“You alright dear?” My grandmother asked me, worry evident in her tone.

 “Don’t worry I’m fine! Just breathing is all.” I said, trying to ease her. 

We paid for the clothes and made our way back home. This time I didn’t see a huge dog running through the trees. We pulled up to the front of the house and grabbed the things out of the car. My grandmother made peaceful conversation with me the entire time and asked me all types of questions. “How are you feeling about being back in Forks?” and “Are you excited for school?” even a “Do you have any names for the baby?” 

I answered them politely and with respect. Replying “Forks is nice, just a huge change from Cali.” and “Well, I’m definitely nervous but I’ll just have to study and get a tutor.” along with “Nope. No names for the baby yet. I’m worried it’s a little too early.” 

We hauled the things inside the house and made the trek up to mine and the baby’s room. “Okay well, do you need help unpacking sweet pea?” My grandma said looking exhausted from the day. 

“No, don’t worry about that. I’ve got it covered. I actually think I’m going to unpack and then head down to the beach with some pain and my sketchbook. I wont be out long though.” I said excited to be able to pull out some of my paints that I got for school. Apparently I was in a painting class, according to my grandma, and I would need supplies.

“Well when your done, tell me before you go that your leaving. And take the truck, we actually got it refurbished from Billy Black and his son for you. I hope it runs smoothly.” She said thoughtfully.

She shuffled out of the room while I began to unpack. I took my clothes out of the bags and laid my new backpack down on my bed. I shoved my clothes into a laundry basket and took it downstairs to start some laundry before school. I packed my bag full of notebooks, an accordion folder, and a pencil case. I would be getting all of my school books tomorrow at school. 

Then I started to get ready for leaving the house. I grabbed my old backpack and put my new sketchbook in there with some watercolors and a couple of paintbrushes. I grabbed some of my charcoal and an eraser. With my new phone in one jacket pocket and headphones in the other I slung my backpack over my shoulders and left my room to go find my grandma.

[acourtofbooksandshadows]

Alliance Maker- Chapter 9

Summary: You and Lucien do some bonding while Nesta, Cassian and Azriel are gone.

Pairings: Slow burn!Azriel x Afab!Reader

Warnings: Nightmares, fire, swearing and tomfoolery.

Word count: 1856

Masterlist Series Masterlist

When you woke up you were surprised to see Lucien sat at the desk by the large window in your room. You sat up slowly and let out a deep groan as you did. Even though you knew you’d slept for a while your body was still exhausted. You went through nightmare after nightmare without being able to wake yourself. Lucien wrote down something on the paper in front of him before slowly turning your way. He sat looking at you waiting for you to speak before he said anything. 

“Good morning, or maybe afternoon, I’m not sure which one.” Your eyes gazed through the window trying to gauge when in the day it was. Lucien seemed to relax at your words, almost like he had been preparing to be yelled at. 

“Good afternoon.” His smile settled the nerves within your chest. The smell of pumpkin, a mix of different spices and something uniquely Lucien filled the air.

“How long has it been?” You looked under the covers and noticed you were in a clean pair of trousers and a clean tunic. Nesta must have changed you when you cooled down enough. You knew your clothes from before would have been burnt except for the fingerless gloves you had left in your room on your bedside table. Which you reached for and slipped onto your hands. 

“Day and a half.” He brought a hand up to his hair and moved the strand that had fallen in his face. You let out a relieved sigh at the answer, it was the expected time so you were happy for that. 

“Where is everyone?” You had expected for Nesta to be there when you woke up so the fact she wasn’t had you slightly worried.

“There was an issue that arose in Windhaven that she, Cassian and Azriel were sent to deal with.” You nodded your head understandably and stretched your arms out over your head, a deep satisfied groan leaving your lips as you did. 

“I’m starving, do you want to go to the kitchen with me?” You cocked your head at the male curiously. He nodded at you eagerly as though he just realized he was starving as well. 

“I’m sure the house will give us dinner if we go and wait at the dining room table.” The house answered by opening the door. 

“I kind of forgot about that.” You let out a nervous laugh as you both stood and walked out to the dining room. The house had already set the table with soup, bread, salad and tea. You both uttered a thank you as you sat and started to devour the meal in front of you. As dessert was laid out you both settled into comfortable conversation. 

“I’m surprised that Nesta left you here with me.” You took a sip of your tea as Lucien took a bite of his pie. You knew of her protective nature over those she cared for. You also knew that you were one of the few she did care about. 

“She threatened to cut me up into little bitty pieces if I let anything happen to you. Not that I would’ve let anything happen to you.” He cringed and you weren’t sure if it was from the memory of Nesta’s threat or if it was at the thought of letting harm befall you.

“How long are they expected to be gone for?” You took a bite of pie this time as he took a sip of tea, he gave you a shrug in response. Moments went by of comfortable silence before he spoke again. 

“How did you know who I was?” He asked you as you sipped on your tea. You knew he was referring to your first meeting in the kitchen just days ago. 

“Do you know many other fae with red hair and a golden eye?” The sarcasm was clear in your voice and he gave you a quiet laugh in response. 

“I guess that is kind of a dead giveaway isn’t it?” You nodded your head rapidly, a smile adorning your lips at his rhetorical question. You both talked in quiet voices until you retreated to bed. 

When you awoke due to a nightmare that night there wasn’t a shadow to keep you company so you had flicked your wrist out towards the end of the bed where the bodies of Brok and Zas formed. Brok curled up at your feet and Zas came clambering up to give you a rough lick on the face. You groaned lightly before pushing him away softly. He huffed as he laid down roughly on the bed beside you. Both boys' fire was just a crackle as they slept. But the warmth they radiated was enough to keep you company as you slept. 

Lucien was surprised to see the hounds sitting at your feet the next morning when he crawled out of bed for breakfast. You had looked up at him and down towards them in a silent question on if he was okay with them or not. He gave you a shrug that all but screamed “I don’t care” and sat down across from you. 

“Do you have any plans today?” He took a large bite of the apple the house placed in front of him, you let out an obnoxious snort at his question. 

“I know all of one person well enough to make plans with them and they are not here.” You waved your hand around the room, a playful look in your eyes. 

“Would you like to go into town with me?” You contemplated his question, cocking your head back and forth before giving him a nod. While you didn’t usually keep males as company you had a feeling you could trust him with your life. Plus the last day spent with him had made you comfortable and trusting. 

“Can Brok and Zas come with us?” The answer wouldn’t be a deal breaker but you had missed them and didn’t have the heart to send them back to the inbetween. 

“Of course they can.” He didn’t even hesitate to tell you they could and that had your heart warming. Not many people accepted the hounds so you were happy that he was. You both finished breakfast before getting ready to go. You sent Brok and Zas to the in between while you flew down and Lucien winnowed. Upon your feet hitting the ground you let them out again and a group of children just so happened to round the corner as you did. You paused for a moment afraid they would be afraid of you or the hounds but instead they squealed and chased the hounds through the streets gleefully. 

“You already seem to fit right in. That’s a good thing.” Lucien whispered to you as you watched the children play with the hounds. That was something you would cherish forever, the happy sounds of children playing gleefully in the street. 

“Do you have anywhere specific you’d like to go to, Lucien?” You turned to him slightly as you asked the question though you kept your eyes on the hounds as you both started slowly walking behind them. 

“I figured we could just walk around. I can give you the grand tour of Velaris. Maybe we can eat lunch down here.” You hummed in reply and that was exactly what you did. You slipped in and out of buildings, Brok and Zas would wait outside patiently as you did. You eventually found a place to eat lunch that had outdoor seating where the boys could lay at your feet. You had many eyes on you, for not only being someone new but for the hounds that accompanied you. But with Lucien giving you the occasional reassuring smile you eased the worry away. 

“I’ll race you back to the house.” Lucien gave you a bewildered look as he tucked his hands into the pockets of his pants. His eyes both gazing in the direction of the house of wind. You had just gotten done eating and were just walking away from the restaurant. 

“What do you mean by race?” You gave him a shit eating grin before replying.

“I bet I can beat you to the house of wind and all the way up the stairs. Without using my wings and you can’t winnow either.” He seemed to contemplate what you said before shrugging, deciding he didn’t have anything better to do. 

“What are we racing for?” You watched as Brok tackled Zas to the ground and rolled around with him for a moment. You were thankful that their fire wasn’t harmful unless they intended for it to be. Because if it was always harmful the grass around them would be burnt to ash. 

“Loser has to tell the winner a secret.” You looked at him in question on if the prize was enough and his only reply was taking off in the direction of the house of wind in a blur. You tore after him, the boys followed you instantly. You bobbed and weaved through the crowd making sure not to bump into anyone. Laughs filled the air as you chased after him. He stayed a good pace ahead of you for a while until you caught up. You went neck and neck all the way up the stairs. 

Until you skifully tripped him and he yelled after you and grabbed at your ankle. Your fingers were at the landing to the house and you kicked your foot in his general direction trying to push him farther down the stairs. You were finally able to stand up and had just opened the door when he tackled you and you both fell on the floor in a fit of breathless laughter. The boys bouncing up and licking your faces as you fell onto your backs. 

“I totally won.” You both said at the same time and then glared at the other. Zas huffed at your competitive nature. 

“You cheated.” You were pointing fingers at each other, jaws both falling open at the accusations flying from the other one. 

“Where have you two been?” Nesta’s voice had you both wide eyed, like kids caught with their hand in the cookie jar before dinner. Cassian was standing behind her with a small smile on his face. 

“I gave her a tour of Velaris. This house can be quite stuffy.” The house answered his complaint by smacking him with the door he was lying beside. You took that as your cue to stand up, then offered your hand to Lucien which he gracefully accepted. Nesta watched every movement and when Lucien was standing tall beside you she spoke again. 

“I am sorry for how I have treated you in the past Lucien.” Her eyes narrowed on him and his face showed his clear surprise. His eye was wide and his mouth was gaping open and closed. You nudged him with your elbow and he shook his head.

“I accept your apology.” With his words you could see it clear, that was the first of many alliances you’d help forge.

A/N: I am so sorry for taking so long to update this series. The last couple of weeks have been insanely busy! I already have the next part of this written so I should be able to update it on Thursday no problem! As always likes, comments, reblogs and follows are much apprectiated. Thank you for reading!

Tags(open): @wolfsbane44 @moonlwghts @maddietheshoe @hyemishii @fanboyluvr @kmc1989 @acourtofinkandpapyrus @luvmoo

[blazingstaro]

DotS: Knights of the Stars file #03 — Sir Galacta Knight

Name: Sir Galacta Asteri of the Stars Age: 528 yrs ( Adult Dream Puff) Rank: 5th Star Knight General ; Puff Chieftain

The greatest, most powerful warrior of the Galaxy; Galacta is nothing short of a force to be reckoned with! He's well above average size for a Dream Puff, and is frighteningly agile in the air despite his weight.

In contrast to his ferocity in a fight, Galacta has a rather warm and jolly disposition. He's a poster child for Dream Puffs, as someone who can find and bring joy even in the darkest of times. With his hearty, contagious laughter, it's hard to wear a frown around this plump, friendly feathery Puffball!

Behind the mask, he has bright purple eyes and a comedically oversized snaggletooth left fang. His mask visor emphasizes the red in his eye color, to help him achieve a more intimidating appearance since he's terribly fluffy and cute. Surprisingly, he has a distinguished Southern accent. When he speaks, one could practically hear gravy poured on a biscuit and a slice of pecan pie being served on your plate. He embodies southern hospitality well in addition, taking strongly after his mother who had a hobby as a starship mechanic.

"A Puff of purest pink shall arise from the ashes, and lay waste to the Warlock and fiendish foes."

Sir Galacta Asteri is said to be the reincarnated, prophesied hero of legend. Following his fall in a forgotten age (back when he was known as the "Aeon Hero") due to a cataclysm which changed his home world forever, he was predicted to return by an oracle of yore. However, his wandering soul was ensnared by the warlock Nightmare, who held him captive for thousands of years. The foul monster maker knew Galacta's power would be more than enough to slay him, and so deeply feared him.

It wasn't until a little over 500 years ago, a talented, brave, and somewhat cocky young Sorceress snuck into Nightmare's base and rescued Galacta from the evil wizard's grasp. She then set him free on the Puff Homeworld; thus the Galacta we know today came to be. He grew to change the world forever, and change his fate.

He was often regarded as "The Chosen" due to centuries of passed down legends and whispered hopes of his coming, and so Galacta was burdened with the fate of the Galaxy since a young age. Despite his incredible talents —as one would expect from someone supposedly reincarnated—, he often felt that his efforts weren't good enough for the world, and silently strove to become better.

Galacta was an only child, so those he refers to as his brothers or sisters are his closest childhood friends; however, that doesn't change the fact that they're close family to one another! These surrogate siblings of his are Sir Meta Knight, Sir Antwan, and Eave. He especially has a tight bond with Eave, who also shares his secrets. These siblings of his, and anyone he deems family, all lovingly refer to him as "Gally".

Coming to knighthood at the ripe age of 18, Galacta soared up the ranks until eventually replacing his mentor, Sir Eavansol, as Knight General of the Star Warriors. In this position, his talent for strategy flourished as he expertly led their armies into great success. With his pure power and might, he spear-headed every battle he attended. He was also responsible for a plethora of things outside of combat, conducting meetings with other Generals of other armies, and maintaining a healthy relationship between the Star Warriors and GSA.

During the war days, Galacta earned the call sign "Muffin Man" due to his somewhat plump form, which quickly became a useful and discreet way to summon him. It is true, however, that Gally is a bit overweight for a Puff, as evidenced strongly when he sits down. He "muffins" out a bit and looks more like a large pink dumpling than a nice round ball. Hence the nickname! He's a bit insecure and self conscious about it, but can't really do anything about it either.

Being a high-power Puff requires a lot of energy, and being in the high-stress position he was in the Star Warriors, he indulged himself often on his favorite sweet treat: strawberry cheesecakes. It became a rather terrible habit (for which Eave got on his case often) to the point where he had a hidden fridge in his office. Everyone knew about it, which he was hilariously unaware of.

Throughout Galacta's youth, he was trained to carry the torch as Puff Chief, leader of all the Dream Puffs of Homeworld, as he knew he wouldn't serve the Star Warriors forever. He eventually took on the mantle as Chief following the fall of Homeworld, and performed a stressful, yet delicate balancing act of leading both his people and the Star Warriors.

Galacta's lived a long life filled with responsibilities and expectations piled onto his plate, and though he succeeded in much throughout his career, he struggled silently and hid behind his own sweet snaggletooth smile. Meta Knight had to learn from someone, after all, and boy is Galacta a master at hiding himself in plain sight. Though not literally— stealth has never been his strong suit.

Many theorize that due to immense amount of pressure, the stress, perhaps the loss of Homeworld and therefore many loved ones including his right hand woman and lieutenant, Mei, or perhaps more. A few, including Sir Antwan, believe that unknown, yet dubious events caused the great and powerful Sir Galacta Knight to fall into a pit of madness.

Eyes reduced to crimson pin-pricks, wild and broken, it was clear that their beloved brother had at last broke and lost his mind. T'was that fateful day, nearly 300 years ago, where the winged warrior was sealed away in crystal by the last high mages of an old kingdom. He changed the world, but he could not change his fate.

According to Sir Meta Knight, his sister Eave was present for this, and swears down to the tips of her wings that there's more to this mystery. However, her investigations were never concluded, for she vanished some few years later.

Now, by a certain lone knight's overly ambitious actions, Galacta Knight is freed once more, and free to wreak his wrath upon the Galaxy. Though one could only wonder how one as sweet and gentle as he could be reduced to a heartless, cold, killing machine?

Perhaps Eave knew something our heroes could only hope to discover without her...

[multi-fan-dom-madness]

Chapter 7: Jehaat (Second Chances - Hunter x reader)

Jehaat. n. lie; untruth.

Summary: A few things come to light, things you're sure would rather stay hidden in the dark.

Chapter Warnings: more nightmares; canon-typical cursing; Nav continues to lie to themselves and to the boys; Crosshair mentioned; if I missed any please let me know!

Word Count: 4,895

Read it here on AO3!

< Previous chapter | Next chapter >

Thankfully, your plan works. You drop out of hyperspace just outside the gravity well of the Junk Moon, maneuver down into its sickly yellow, choked, smoggy atmosphere, and land the Redthorn close to the rendezvous coordinates. Echo elects to stay with the ship, not wanting to be mistaken for a droid again—you vow to get that story out of him soon. With minutes to spare, you and Hunter make the drop-off, get the credits for Cid, and make it back to the ship. 

The O2 scrubbers whir to life to clean the contaminated air as the ramp seals behind you. With a deep breath in the comparatively fresh air, you can’t help the way your upper lip curls in distaste. Your skin feels like it has a layer of sticky grime just from a quick jaunt outside. Hunter lifts his helmet with a faint hiss. Face still pinched in pain from his headache, he waves away your concerned expression. 

“I’ll be fine in a few hours,” he assures you. “The worst has passed.” 

“Assuming, of course, we can make it back without being shot at again,” you say. 

He sighs, shoulders slumping just a little, exhaustion creeping into his expression. “Assuming.” 

Echo’s feet appear on the cockpit ladder as he descends, saying, “I got in touch with the others. Cid has them out on a mission already—we’ll have to be smart about how we go back.” 

“I’m not—”

“—leaving your ship here,” Hunter finishes your sentence for you. “We know. We may as well sit tight until they get back. We’ve got rations for a few days, at least.” 

You exhale slowly, nodding. Lowering yourself into one of the jump seats—the one in front of your locker, you gesture to the free spaces around the cargo bay. “Make yourself comfortable. Since we’re gonna be here for a while....” 

Hunter shuffles to the rack you’d prepared for him just a few hours ago and perches on the edge of it, while Echo drapes himself across two seats across from you. The three of you sit in silence for a few minutes. With how hectic the past few weeks have been, you suddenly feel lost without something to do in the immediate moment. You fidget with the hem of your tunic. 

“Hey, Echo,” you say, remembering, “how about that story, the one about being mistaken for a droid?”

Hunter’s face splits with a grin at that. “Stars, that was so long ago.” 

Echo grimaces. “Well, if you must know...” 

Your sides hurt from laughing by the time that Echo’s story ends, and you’re delighted when Hunter, pulling himself up into the rack with crossed legs, offers another tale from one of their many, many missions on deployment. Wrecker’s mishap on Yalbec Prime, the flubbed sabacc game on Rodia, the one and only time Tech met his intellectual match—a story, you learn, he hates recounting: you catch glimpses of the blood-deep bond of these men, and your heart swells.

Hunter trips over his words occasionally—you sense the details he’s leaving out, the holes in the stories, but you don’t push. Sitting in a ship that shouldn’t even be yours, you know better than most when to leave well enough alone when it comes to the past. 

And you’re more than happy to regale your captive audience with stories of your own. That one time in the orphanage, you’d been maybe twelve, thirteen at most, and were hiding from the newest bully, and managed to steal a fresh-baked meiloorun pie to shove in his face. Hunter and Echo roar with laughter as you mime shoving the pie into the poor kid’s face; in hindsight, you didn’t have to solve the problem like that—Maker knows you’d gotten two weeks of probation for that—but a smoldering sense of satisfaction at their laughter makes itself home in your chest. 

By the second night, you’ve run out of safe stories to share. The rest of your memories are landmines. Dust them off too quickly or too roughly, and they’ll detonate in your mind, leaving you shaking and anxious. So you content yourself with listening, letting Echo cheat at sabacc, and with sharing companionate silence in the cockpit with Hunter. 

Despite your best efforts, your nightmare finds you again that night where you’d fallen asleep curled up in the pilot’s seat. You wake with a start, cold sweat clinging to your skin, chest heaving with panic. The dim glow of the ship’s consoles does little to relax you—this is exactly where you’d been after she died. 

“Nav?” Hunter’s voice is quiet, and when you spin, heart in your throat, you find his head peeking through the hole to the cargo bay. 

You gulp down a lungful of the cold, recycled ship air and push shaky hands over your face. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” 

“It’s alright,” he says. “You okay?” 

You chew your lip and shake your head. “Not really.” 

“Can I—” He cuts himself off, expression morphing from concern to anticipation. “Can I come up?”

“Y-Yeah.”

He pulls himself into the cockpit and hits the button to close the camera-like door. Hesitant, he lowers into the seat behind yours, his eyes glittering faintly in the dark. You’re suddenly grateful for the low-power setting the ship has, aware of the clamminess at the back of your neck, the tears welling in your eyes, the goosebumps that refuse to go away. 

“Your heart is going crazy,” he says, quiet, soft. “Nightmare again?”

You nod before realizing he might not be able to see the action. “Yeah. Kriff, I’m sorry I keep waking you up like this.” 

“Hey,” he says, “don’t be. Your safety and wellbeing are...important. To me.” 

“Oh.” You blink through the blur of tears. “Can I- Can I sit with you?” 

His arms open wide, and before he can even verbally consent, you’re up and lowering yourself gingerly into his lap, tucking your head beneath his chin. He is warm and sturdy and safe. After a moment of hesitation, he wraps his arms around you, careful to only touch where your clothing is, cradling you to his chest. His warmth seeps into you, chasing away the icy terror of the nightmare, soothing your panicked heart. You sigh. 

“You don’t have to tell me about it,” he says. “But we all get them. We understand.”

You heave a shuddering breath, blinking away fresh tears. “I...lost someone I cared about. Recently.” 

He looks down at you, but you can’t make yourself meet his gaze. Instead, you turn your face further into his chest. 

“A lot of people have been lost recently,” he says, not unkindly. “I’m...sorry to hear that one of them was yours.” 

In another circumstance his words might have upset you, but as Echo’s words from a few days ago repeat in your mind—we were born soldiers—you feel like you understand what he’s saying. “Thank you.” 

He just nods. 

Out the viewport, clouds of smog and ash drift by, barely illuminated by the ship’s internal lights and the stars beyond the thin atmosphere. Under your ear, Hunter’s heartbeat is strong, steady, comforting, and you find yourself breathing in rhythm with him. But every time sleep slinks into your brain, you jerk back to full consciousness. 

The third time this happens, Hunter shifts. “How can I help?” 

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you grimace. First you wake him up, now you keep him up. But he squeezes his arms just a little tighter as if to remind you that he’s choosing to be here. 

“Teach me Mando’a?” you ask. 

He chuckles, the sound deep against your ear. “Alright. Fair warning, though, it’s a bitch to learn.” 

“I’m persistent,” you say. 

“Of that, I have no doubt,” he says. “Alright, let’s see...” 

By the time the sun comes up, you feel moderately in control of the very basic components of the language. You appreciate the simplicity of it all, the use of one word for multiple meanings, even the harsh pronunciation of most of the words. Hunter’s patience feels bottomless, and for your part, you try to be patient with yourself, dutifully repeating the correct pronunciation until Hunter is satisfied you’ve got it right. 

“Gett’se. Get-say,” he corrects, placing more emphasis than you think is really necessary on that first syllable. 

“Get-say,” you repeat. 

Your stomach flutters at the proud smile that breaks over his face.

He says, “One more for now. What’s it gonna be?” 

With furrowed brow and sluggish brain, you run back over the list of words you’ve already specifically requested to learn. You come up with straws, though. “I dunno. What’s the opposite of ‘courage’?” 

He snorts. “Hut’uun. Coward.” 

A yawn interrupts your attempt to repeat the word, and you slump against his chest again as exhaustion finally pulls at your eyelids. Hunter squeezes your upper arm where his hand has been resting. “Rest now.” 

“Stay?” 

“Of course.” 

The next several missions take you far beyond the Junk Moon, much to your relief, and you’re able to leave the Redthorn behind on Ord Mantell yet again. There’s an easier sense of camaraderie you have with the squad now, a barrier that was broken somewhere between swapped stories and bleary-eyed language lessons. Most of the time, you’re still stuck in the pressing silence of hyperspace, breathing stale, recycled air, and sharing too little space with five other people. The days blur together. But this new routine is beginning to feel normal now. 

Pressing send on your datapad, you smirk at the hyper-distorted holoscan of a Bantha, captioned simply “chonk,” and count to three before Echo’s groan reaches your ears. Chuckling, you set the datapad to the side; yet another mission accomplished: find the exact kind of humor that Echo enjoys but pretends to hate. 

“Hey, Nav,” Wrecker says, squeezing out of the cockpit. “Question for ya.” 

“What’s up, big guy?” you say, swiveling the data center seat with one foot. 

He beams at the nickname you’ve chosen for him. “We were wonderin’—okay, I was wonderin’ if you know how to cook?” 

“I know a bit,” you say with a nod. “Why you ask?” 

“Well,” he says, shuffling his feet awkwardly, and the action makes your heart melt. “I know we don’t got a kitchen or anything like that on the Marauder, but if we got some supplies, do you think you could make some things? Or teach us?” 

You flush with a strange feeling; it takes you a moment to recognize it as feeling honored. Standing, you grin up at Wrecker. “I can do both, sure.” 

He scoops you into a bone-crushing hug, and several of your vertebrae pop. With a groan, you pat his side as best you can, your arms pinned to your side as he sways back and forth. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! Oh! Here.” He sets you back down a little too roughly, and you just manage to catch yourself as your knees buckle under the sudden weight put on them. Wrecker laughs and helps steady you. 

“Let me know what kinds of foods you want to try making,” you say as soon as your breath returns. “I don’t know much, but—”

“Whatever you make will be great!” 

“Thanks, Wreck,” you say. “Does Tech know about this plan?” 

He gives you what you suppose is meant to be a conspiratorial wink—but he doesn’t seem to have ever mastered winking, and just blinks really slowly at you with a massive grin, the scar on his head rippling with the movement. 

“Alright,” you say. “Maybe he’ll take it better from me than from you. I heard all about the last time you tried to convince him to store new technology on board.” 

“You’re the best, Nav,” Wrecker says, and then he continues past you to the racks where Omega sits, frowning at the datapad in her hand. She’s no more a patient student than you are. 

Tech is in his usual spot in the pilot’s seat, his back turned to the doorway, silhouetted by the cool wash of hyperspace. He acknowledges your presence with a nearly imperceptible turn of his head in your direction. 

“Hello, Nav,” he says. 

“Tech,” you say, taking a seat behind him. “You ever let anyone else fly? I don’t think I’ve seen you actually rest since I joined.” 

His usually nimble and deft fingers pause in their actions over the mess of wires and circuit boards in his lap. “I prefer to pilot the ship. Most of its modifications are my own, so I know it best. The only person not technically allowed to fly it is Wrecker. And Omega, of course, as she has not started lessons.” 

“And me,” you say with a teasing smile that he can’t see. 

He hums thoughtfully. “That is a different matter. You are a nat-born.” 

“‘Nat-born’?” you repeat. The term isn’t familiar to you, and you can’t imagine Tech saying anything quite so obviously offensive to your face, so confusion tilts your head to the side.

“Yes,” he says. “Someone who was naturally born. All of the clones came out of test tubes, and as such we technically weren’t ‘born’ the way you were.” 

You frown. “Okay, first of all, just because you weren’t ‘born’ from another person doesn’t make you any less of a person. I know that tone, Tech. And secondly, why do I get the sense you think me being a nat-born is some kind of issue?” 

He finally looks up from his project for a brief moment, his eyes meeting yours and then flicking away. “I did not say clones are any less of a person. And it is not so much an issue as it is a scientific fact: clones, even regs, are genetically modified to be stronger, more resilient, faster, and better in almost every capacity to nat-born soldiers.” 

That leaves you with a lot to ponder. If clones were so advantageous as troopers, why had you been part of an all ‘nat-born’ cohort in the academy? The sudden memory of the academy surprises you, and you’re halfway out of the cockpit before you remember the reason you went in there in the first place. 

“Oh, Tech, by the way,” you say, and when he hums in acknowledgement, “we’re planning to pick up some small kitchen appliances to have on board. Just thought you should know.” 

And the cockpit door closes on the beginning of Tech’s protest. 

“Kark it all,” you grumble, kicking at a loose rock in the middle of the dirt path. Except it isn’t a loose rock, and pain flares in your big toe even through the sturdy leather of your boot. “Kriff!” 

Ahead of you, Hunter’s helmet turns. “You alright back there, Nav?” 

Stifling yet another swear, you wave his concern away. “Fine. Doing great.” 

He grunts, but you’re too frustrated with yourself to care whether he believes you or not. By this point, even Omega is beginning to doubt where the squad’s string of bad luck will come to an end, and the rest of you are reaching the end of your fuses. Hot tendrils of frustration coil in your stomach as you limp at the back of the squad. Maybe, you think bitterly, the problem isn’t us. Maybe it’s Cid. 

Scratch that. You know it’s Cid. Her intel is never right, she doesn’t seem to care whether or not any of you eat or are well, and these days she barely even addresses you, in holocalls or in person. 

So wrapped up in your brooding, you nearly walk into Hunter where he’s stopped. Blinking, you catch yourself just before impact. His hands rest on his armored hips, his head tilted back to take in the mossy tree branches and glimpses of dazzlingly blue sky beyond them. Swatting at a bug buzzing in your ears, you come alongside him, concerned. 

“Something the matter, Sarge?” you ask. 

He shakes his head, tipping his helmet toward you. Try as you might, you can’t see past the dark reflective visor to his gray eyes within. “Walk with me?” 

You bite down the urge to snark that you’ve been walking, and instead simply gesture ahead. Falling into step beside him, Wrecker’s broad shoulders become more and more distant through the thick undergrowth. Worry is on your mind, but not for getting lost; with Hunter at your side, you don’t think you could ever get lost. No, you’re worried about what Hunter might want to chat about. 

Heart squeezing in anticipation, you nervously pop your knuckles. You’re not used to this slow dance, this slow orbit as your gravities continue spiraling you closer and closer, but never as close as you want. You’re used to hot sparks and deep-cut emotions and high-strung expectations—but as he lifts his helmet, his eyes finally meeting yours, you allow yourself to breathe. You’re not just building a relationship with one person, you realize: you’re building a family. 

“I think it’s time we talk about some of those things that are ‘on your own time,’ Nav.” He holds your gaze for a moment, his expression softening. “I don’t want to push you, but I—” He shakes his head. “I can’t trust you until you trust us with your past.”

Ah. You swallow thickly. He’s comforted you through several more nightmares since Quantxi, and you’ve never revealed more to him about the details, the raw edges of loss still too sore to probe any deeper. And your traitorous mind immediately scolds you. You’re not worthy of his trust even if you tell him about Arien. You’re a fraud, a liar, and a danger to every single one of them.

“Nav?” he says. 

You blink and shake your head, dislodging those thoughts, guilt pooling in your fingertips. “Sorry, yeah, of course. Tonight, after Omega goes to sleep.” 

Part of you expects him to move ahead again, to catch up to the rest of the squad. To your surprise, he stays by your side, matching your pace as you trudge between massive ferns and over muddy puddles. Neither of you speak again, but you find you don’t mind, even with the impending conversation looming darkly in your thoughts. 

You’ve taken to tucking Omega into bed at night. Sometimes, you sit with her; sometimes, you simply hand Lula over and pull the curtains shut. Tonight, she grabs your hand as you turn to leave, her wide, innocent eyes silently pleading for you to stay. You offer her a comforting smile. Crawling up into the gunner’s mount, you lean back against the cold, curved wall, and Omega curls against your side with Lula in her arms. You gently stroke her hair the way she likes. Most nights, she’ll fall asleep if you do this long enough, but tonight, she seems...restless. Anxious. 

“Nav?” Her voice is small, timid, and so unlike her usual boisterous confidence that you look down at her in surprise. 

Her blonde curls splay over your thigh where her head rests. Twirling a strand in your fingers, you say, “What’s up, kiddo?” 

“Do you ever miss the orphanage you grew up in?” 

Not what you’re expecting. You immediately open your mouth to answer no, why would you miss that place? But something stays your tongue. She’s got to be asking for a reason, you figure, so you take a moment to actually consider the question. “Not...often. I feel like I was a different person then. And that’s not a bad thing, but I prefer who I am now.” 

She just nods and hugs Lula tighter. 

“Meg?” you say gently, squeezing her shoulder. “Everything okay?” 

She nods again, but a soft sniffle reaches your ears. 

Your heart breaks. Without a second thought, you scoop your arms under her small frame and bring her into your lap. She buries her face against your tunic and, after a moment, her shoulders shake with quiet sobs. 

You rock her and continue stroking her hair. “Hey, shh, it’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here. You’re safe. It’s gonna be alright.” 

As she cries quietly into you, slowly soaking your front with her tears, your entire heart shatters with each sniffle. You want to fight who or whatever made her feel like this. You want to hold her for the rest of her life and protect her. And, in a calming realization, you understand that you’d even die for this child. 

The cockpit door slides open. Hunter emerges, then immediately halts upon seeing you and Omega. Shock and concern flicker across his face, but when he takes a step forward, you shake your head at him. 

“She okay?” he mouths, his brow furrowed. 

You shake your head again. With a jerk of your chin, you silently urge him back into the cockpit. I’ll fill you in later, you try to convey. 

After a moment’s hesitation, he returns to the cockpit. In your arms, Omega begins to calm down, her sniffles becoming less frequent. She eventually raises her head to look up at you, her eyes red-rimmed and face splotchy. 

“Sorry I ruined your shirt,” she hiccups. 

A soft smile tugs at your lips. “S’okay, bug. Just a piece of fabric. You wanna talk about what’s going on now or later?” 

Her face screws up and fresh tears well in her eyes. You cradle her closer. “Shh, shh, I’m sorry. We’ll sit here as long as you need, kiddo. I’m not going anywhere.”

She sobs and wraps her arms around you, smushing Lula between your bodies. “Promise?” 

You chew your lip and close your eyes. Leaning your head down, you press a kiss to her hair. “If you wake up and I’m not here, I’m only going to be in the cockpit.” It’s the best promise you can make right now. 

“O-O-Okay,” she sniffles. Her voice is muffled against your chest, but she takes a deep breath and says, “I f-found a holoscan of the squad while I was looking for- for clean clothes. And the holo— it had—” Sobs overtake her again, and you resume rocking her, whispering sweetness against her hair. She can’t tell you the rest of the story, you realize. 

You hold her until she falls asleep, only moving when you’re sure she won’t wake. Despite your physical stillness, your mind whirls at the speed of hyperspace with emotions and thoughts. What was in that holo that made her so upset? Your mind flashes to a million possibilities—none of them particularly child-friendly—and as you slowly extricate yourself from her sleeping grasp, you determine to ask the boys as soon as you’re in the cockpit. You draw Omega’s curtains closed out of habit. 

You nearly collide with Hunter standing in the doorway, his face drawn with worry.

“Kriff!” you both curse. 

“Sorry,” you say at the same time, and you shake your head, gesturing to him. “You first.”

“Is she okay? What happened?” he asks, looking past you to her closed curtains, then down at your tear-stained tunic. 

You gently usher him back into the cockpit. The other three men have similarly worried expressions, and Wrecker hugs his knees to his chest. Tech even sets down his project, devoting his entire attention to you. Hunter drops heavily into one of the open seats and rubs his face. 

Crossing your arms, you rub the skin of your bicep with your thumb, a self-soothing habit. “She wouldn’t tell me what happened. Not fully, anyways. She said something about a holoscan of the squad?” 

All four men exchange an inscrutable glance. Wrecker lowers his head, a sad frown pulling his face down. Genuine concern flashes through you.

“What is it?” 

Hunter sighs. “Seems like we have a lot to talk about tonight.” He gestures to the last open seat, next to where Wrecker sits on the metal floor. 

You draw your feet up underneath you and swivel the chair to face them all. “Do you want to start, or should I?” 

His eyes flick around the room before settling on yours again. His bandana is coming loose, you notice distractedly, and stray curls fall into his face. He visibly swallows and just gestures limply at you. 

“What do you want to know, then?” you ask. And even to your own ears, your voice sounds so very tired. 

“What’s your deal with the Empire?” Echo asks. His tone isn’t accusatory, but you still grimace. 

Aiming for a joke, you say, “What, I have to have a reason to dislike fascism?” 

Your attempt at humor falls flat. You cast around for a moment, so used to lying, to deflecting, to protecting yourself. Then you land on a half-truth, like you’ve done so often to this point. “The Empire killed my former partner.”

Several nods of silent understanding. Hunter says, “That...explains some things.” 

The words are unsticking themselves from the roof of your mouth now that there’s a crack in the dam. The blood of your bruised heart flows more freely, yet more painfully. “She was... smart. Quick as a whip and hit twice as hard. We’d known each other for...for a long time. Arien was my best friend. Probably my only friend.” 

“That was her name?” Tech asks, voice softer and more contemplative than you’ve ever heard before. 

“Yes.” You muster a smile, tears clouding your eyes. You avoid the heart of the truth still, the reason for her death, because the pain is too much to bear, even now. “After she, uh, well.... Afterwards, I took her home to her people so she could be buried.” 

“Where was she from?” Tech asks.

“Iridonia.”

“Ah. A Zabrak. How interesting.”

“That’s one word for her.” 

Wiping the tears from your face, you meet Hunter’s eyes. His brows are furrowed, but there’s a well of concern in his gaze. Offering a tight smile, really more of a grimace, you say, “What else?” 

“Your background,” he says. “What happened after you left your orphanage? How do you know how to fight the way you do?” 

You drop his gaze, twisting your fingers over one another, heart beginning to thud harder in your chest despite your best efforts at breathing deep. “I... I have some military training. From during the war.” 

“Formal training?” Echo says. 

You nod. “The war ended before...” 

Again, another half-truth. The war had ended before you were sent into the field—and the Republic fell before you realized the might of the Empire supplanting it. 

You expect one of them to press you on that, and you’re surprised when instead, Wrecker sniffles. “There was one of us who reacted to Order 66.” 

Pain settles onto all four of their faces at his words. You nod at Wrecker so he can continue. 

“Crosshair,” he says. “He...turned on us. And the Empire has just made him worse. So we know what it’s like to lose someone to the Empire.” 

His words are nearly a direct echo of Hunter’s on Quanxi, and you flick your gaze to him. He’s looking out the viewports, though, and you turn back to Wrecker. 

“I’m so sorry. Is he..?”

“Last we saw him, he was alive,” Echo says, voice gruff. “But he made his choice to stay behind.” 

He shares a look with Tech that you can’t quite decipher. When you study Hunter again, he seems more withdrawn, the furrow in his brow deeper, the shadows playing over his face darker. Your heart, already bruised and aching, breaks just a little more for them. It’s one thing to lose a close friend, and another to lose a family member. 

“The holoscan,” you murmur. 

Wrecker pushes himself to his feet, and returns a few moments later with a holoreader in his hands. The device is cold in your palms. Peering up at you from the screen is your squad—but no, it’s not quite the same. Crouched in front is Tech, his face bare; behind him are Hunter, Echo, Wrecker, and an unfamiliar fifth, posed with a sniper rifle.

“This is Crosshair?” you ask, not looking up from the scan. You sense more than see them all nod. Trailing your fingertips over the screen, you trace the outline of Crosshair’s figure. “She misses him.” 

“We all do,” Wrecker says. 

You return the datapad to him. He cradles it to his chest.

“Have you tried—”

“Yes,” Hunter cuts you off, voice sharp as the blade tucked into his armor. You nod once and drop the subject. 

An uncomfortable silence falls over all of you for several minutes—or several hours. You’re not sure which. One by one, though, they rise to crash on the racks, until it’s just you and Tech left. 

He’s since resumed fiddling with a project. Without looking up, he says, “You should rest.” 

“You too, Tech,” you say with a yawn.

“Hm.” He exchanges tools. “Technically.” 

“What?” 

“My name,” he says. “It is technically, ‘Technically.’ Tech for short. Like yours is Nav for short.” 

You gape at him in wonder. “I had no idea.” 

“Well, it’s quite a simple contraction of ‘Naviga’—”

“No, not that,” you laugh. “Your name. Technically. I thought—”

“Technology?” he offers. 

You can only nod. “I mean, it also fits, all things considered.” 

“Perhaps,” he says, rising. He holds your gaze now, for longer than he’s done in the weeks—months?—since you’ve joined this squad. Your breath catches. And you nod in understanding as he retreats with a quiet, “Goodnight, Navigator.” 

“Goodnight, Technically.”

Taglist: @the-hexfiles

[missvelvetsstuff]

Low Expectations

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Reader has low self esteem when she meets Bucky. Can he convince her that she's the one he wants?

Chapter 6

Warnings: swearing, angst, sexual situations and thoughts

Notes: I just keep writing and writing. This should have been 1.5 chapters but we'll just call the extra .5 a bonus for taking so long to update. Sorry!

Y/N woke up in a pool of sweat and breathing heavily from the dream she was having about Bucky. She shook her head, she wouldn't last very long waiting for sex if her mind and body kept rebelling like this. She pulled out her favorite toy and tried to get off but couldn't finish. Nothing worked the toy, her fingers, she even tried humping her pillow but all she got was frustrated.

Throwing the pillow across her bedroom, she gave up on the idea of sleep or getting off, got up and took a cold shower, she would have to let Bucky know he wasn't the only one. Thinking about him made it worse and the shower didn't help. She saw it was 4am and sighed, annoyed at being up so early on a Sunday. She was tempted to text Bucky, knowing a bit about his nightmares and challenges getting a decent nights sleep, but refrained because she didn't want to come across like a horny teenager. She turned on her tv and looked for something to distract herself only to find nothing and turn it off again. She played on her phone until the sun came up and she had to get up and do her shopping for the week.

Bucky didn't fare any better tossing and turning with short bouts of sleep plagued by erotic dreams about Y/N that turned bad and woke him with his heart racing.

They went on like this for weeks. Talking on the phone, dates, making out until one of them pulled back and they said good night. Bucky was determined to respect her decision to wait but he had never wanted anyone so badly. Just being in her presence made his body light up like a Christmas tree. The closer they got the more difficult it was to stop before he showed her how beautiful and sexy he found her. Cold showers and his hand were a poor substitute but he knew he had to wait. He didn't want her to feel like sex was all he cared about after what she had told him about her experiences.

One Saturday night he planned to take her her for a nice dinner and a show. Y/N bought a new dress and had her hair and nails done. She also bought lingerie to go with the dress including a corset with garter belt and silk nylons in an attempt to copy the styles from the 40's. It had been a couple of months and she was done waiting, she needed him and planned on showing him tonight. There were still fears of rejection especially once he saw her without clothes, the stretch marks, not even close to six pack and less than perfect tits but she pushed those thoughts down, reminding herself of how his eyes always darkened when he looked at her.

That morning, Bucky was cleaning his apartment before their date, which didn't take long since he didn't have much. He picked up his bedding and pillow from the floor then made his new bed up with new pillows, sheets and comforter set. It wasn't fancy but he did spring for the softer cotton and higher thread count, on the salesman's advice. Didn't want Y/N on scratchy sheets and he wanted to look as normal as possible. He had a drawer full of condoms and bought a key lime pie since she told him it was her favorite. He had a coffee maker, coffee, creamer and sugar in case she stayed the night. He really hoped she would stay the night.  He also had eggs, bread and bacon for breakfast.

Bucky had body issues as well. Y/N had completely accepted his vibranium arm after spending some time carefully checking it out but she hadn't seen the scars and he was afraid she would be disgusted with his body that had been through so much. He hoped she was as good as she seemed and didn't care. He had been with a couple of women but they were just hero groupies who wanted to say they slept with an Avenger, even if he never actually was one. He noticed most of them never touched his arm or scar covered shoulder, they just ignored them to get on with things. Those women never wanted to trade phone numbers or stay for breakfast. They simply got what they were after, not that he didn't enjoy the act too, and left or asked him to leave shortly after.

They were both full of nerves when he knocked on her door at the beginning of the evening but Bucky was blown away with her 40s style dress and hair.

"Damn doll" he whistled as he looked her up and down "You look gorgeous. I mean not that you don't always look great but that dress. I just-"

She chuckled "It's ok, Buck. You look pretty spiffy yourself."

Bucky smiled and blushed "Thank you, sweetheart. I have something here for you" instead of a bouquet he pulled a corsage with red roses and baby's breath out and slid it onto her wrist. He kissed her hand and offered his arm for her to hold.

They took a cab to an early dinner and then walked to the theater. Y/N giggled "Rogers: The Musical? Won't it be weird since you know all of the real people?"

Bucky shrugged "I was still under Hydra control during the battle of New York and didn't really know any of them well besides Steve and Nat. The producers contacted me and were pretty insistent on giving me tickets to see it. I hope it's ok." He smiled at her nervously.

"Of course it's ok, I like musicals thanks to my dad, Camelot is my favorite. I'm sure it's good if not perfectly accurate. No one sees a musical for historical accuracy. I'm just happy spending time with you." She squeezed his arm and smiled back.

The play was.....interesting. Y/N remembered the battle but since she lived in Brooklyn only saw tv footage and the aliens from a distance. She and Terri had considered getting out of town at the time but the roads were a mess and aliens unpredictable so they just hunkered down until the fight was over. She giggled at the over the top dance and acrobatic moves that were made to look like fighting.

When it was over they walked back to his apartment, laughing and joking at how silly some of the play had been. Bucky tried to keep his mood light but the play made him miss Steve all over again. How could he expect a woman he had only met a couple of months ago to stay and deal with his baggage when his childhood friend wouldn't?

Both of them were too wrapped up in each other to notice that a couple of paparazzi had seen the Winter Soldier with an unknown woman on his arm and were following them.

As they waited for the elevator his phone rang and he quickly rejected the call. Bucky pulled Y/N close to him, kissing all over her face until he reached her lips. He nipped at her bottom lip until she looked up at him with half closed eyes and swollen lips. He wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her even closer until their lips met and he groaned. He licked into her mouth and deepend the kiss, the taste and feel of her waking his entire body. She wrapped her arms around his neck and ran her fingers through his hair, tugging gently.

When the elevator door opened he gently picked her up and moved her inside, he spent the ride up kissing her like he wanted to devour her. When they got to his floor he pulled away, breathing heavily and carried her to his front door.

"You're making me crazy, doll. I need to feel you-"

She nodded and moaned "Please James. I need you too. I don't want to wait anymore."

His knees buckled when he realized what she was saying. He leaned against her into the wall "Are you sure? I don't want to rush you"

She leaned back into him "I'm sure" and before he could say anything else she wrapped her legs around his waist and he carried her into his bedroom before gently setting her down. His phone rang and he quickly rejected the call again without even looking.

She smiled softly at him "I could use some help with my zipper" and he pulled her close so he could reach back and unzip her dress. She looked at him shyly as she let her dress fall to the ground, leaving her in her corset, silk stockings and pumps.

He stepped back to look at her and groaned deep in his chest "Jesus doll. You are the sexiest pin up I have ever seen, like a fuckin dream. Sit back"

She sat down and slid up to the head of the bed while Bucky stared, practically tearing his own clothes off in record time. When he was down to just his briefs he started crawling up the bed. Then his phone rang again, he snorted in disgust found it in his pants and turned it off, tossing it over his shoulder.

He took off her shoes and kissed his way up her legs until he was able to unclip her stockings and roll them down one leg at a time. He lay down over her kissing her like his life depended on it, holding himself up with his left arm and letting his right hand roam all over her until they were both ready to explode. He reached for her thong and before he could start pulling it down, he heard someone pounding on his front door.

Bucky looked towards the door angrily and decided to ignore it, hooking his thumbs into her panties when there was more pounding on the door "Sargent Barnes?! It's Torres, Sam tried to call you but he needs help. It's urgent"

Bucky growled and Y/N clenched her thighs together at the vibration. He grinned at her response, taking a moment to inhale, scenting her before leaning in to kiss her again.

More knocking on the door "I'm sorry Sargeant but he really needs you."

Bucky pulled away "Fuck! Don't move doll I'll be right back." Grabbed a robe and stomped to the door, wrenching it open before Torres could knock again. Joaquin looked at him, eyes wide with fear and backed up.

"What the fuck do you want Torres? I'm a little busy right now."

Torres stammered "I I I'm sorry. Sam said he needs you right away. I uh I'm not supposed to take no for an answer."

Bucky growled "Fine! I'll meet him at-"

Torres backed up even more "N n no, he, he, he said to wait for you."

Bucky glared at him "Wait here!" And slammed the door.

He stalked back into his room where Y/N was still spread out on his bed like the most tempting dessert he had ever seen.

He groaned "Fuck I'm so sorry doll but apparently Sam needs me and I have to go." He sat on the side of the bed and pulled her into him, kissing her softly until he forced himself to pull away. "I don't want to go. Fuck, got you right where I need you and I don't know if I can leave you like-" more knocking on the door. He quickly stood and started getting dressed.

Y/N pulled the comforter up over herself, watching him "I guess I should-"

"No doll. Please stay. It's too late for you to be out there alone. You can stay as long as you want, borrow something comfortable to sleep in. Make yourself at home and I'll let you know as soon as I know what's going on." He sat and kissed her again until Torres started knocking.

He cursed "Persistent little fucker. I'm so sorry honey." And he stomped out of the apartment, glaring at Torres.

Y/N got up and looked out the window to see him get into a black car with Torres. She didn't see the photographer in the shadows.

She sighed when the car drove off and closed the blind. Looking around she tried to figure out what to do when her phone buzzed. It was a text from Bucky

I mean it, stay until morning. Or forever.

Y/N shook her head and decided to listen so started looking in his dresser for a shirt to sleep in. It was practically empty a drawer with socks and underwear, one with one stack of black tshirts and one stack of white and one with 2 pairs of black pants plus 3 more drawers that were completely empty. She took off the corset, hung her dress up and put a tshirt on. Once she took her make-up off she climbed into Bucky's bed, snuggling into the soft sheets and fell asleep surrounded by his scent.

Bucky spent the night on a military cargo plane headed to Australia. Unable to sleep due to the untimely interruption and lingering desires, no cell service while in the air so he alternated between daydreaming about Y/N in his clothes, in his bed and then talking himself down before he made a mess in his pants. He hoped that she would still be there when he returned but it seemed unlikely he'd be home that quickly so he'd be happy with her lingering scent and hoped she wouldn't write him off considering this was the second time work with Sam interrupted their time together.

Y/N woke up moaning amid a wet dream induced orgasm and sat up confused over the strange room. After the haze cleared she grimaced at the wet spot under her. She couldn't just leave that for Bucky to find, how embarrassing, but she didn't see a washer and dryer in his apartment and she didn't have his key to get in and out of the building or into the laundry room. She got dressed and paced around in a panic before her phone rang. Terri was freaking out because she had broken a tooth and couldn't find the emergency credit card they kept in the apartment.

Y/N completely forgot about the wet spot and raced home to help Terri. Once again not noticing the photographer who snapped her picture as she left Bucky's building.

Once Y/N had taken care of Terri, who insisted on being knocked out at the dentist, and set her up in bed with some water she sat down to relax. She had a snack and walked to the corner store to pick up food for the week. She spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning and doing laundry.

While she was waiting for the last load in the dryer she was checking her social media when she saw received a bunch of notifications. She had been tagged in some pictures on a gossip page, unclear pics of her leaving Bucky's building. Sheila from work asking 'is this u?'

Y/N shook her head. There were pictures of her with Bucky outside of the theatre as well. The headline speculating about the Winter Soldiers mysterious lady friend. The comments a typical mix of supportive fans and hateful creeps. She scrolled down and gasped when she saw pictures of her in her corset, looking out Bucky's apartment window. It's dark and hard to make her face out but still, she shivers. She wasn't thrilled but figured it came with dating someone famous. Or infamous really.

After 4 days without contact Y/N was feeling pretty glum again. She felt like they took 2 steps back for every one forward. Terri tried to convince her to relax and reasoned that this was part of dating an almost Avenger. Y/N just tried to keep herself busy. 2 more days was Saturday and she was home relaxing watching tmz and saw something about Captain America so she turned up the volume. She could see Bucky off to the side looking uncomfortable with a short, dark haired woman in business clothes fawning over him. She saw he looked tired and his jacket was torn up. She sighed and went to change the channel when she heard the announcer speculating "Sargent Barnes looks like he's making friends with the senators aide. She looks too short to be his mystery lady from last weekend, he must be a player" her stomach dropped and she turned the tv off. She looked at the corsage that she had hung up to dry and tried to shake off the sadness and convince herself to ignore gossip hosts and to believe that Bucky would call her soon.

@jesuisbenny

Bucky finally made it back to his apartment late Sunday night. As he unlocked the door he imagined that Y/N was still there, waiting for him, and looked around but the place was empty. He looked around again because he could smell her but she wasn't there. He went thru his room towards the bathroom but stopped by the bed and sniffed. It was like she was right there, in the middle of his bed. He pulled the sheets back and her scent almost knocked him over. He could see the spot she left, stuck his face into it and groaned before heading to take a shower, promising himself he would text her in the morning.

Chapter 7

@lokisasgardianvampirequeen

@jennyamanda8

@geeky-politics-46

@vicmc624

[lucy-shining-star]

That scene when Holly says to Branch that she can’t let Branch throw this opportunity that this is every pie makers dream and he says it isn’t his dream since he is introvert who needs privacy and space so baking 24/7, strangers hunting him for recipes and travelling world taking pastry is nightmare for him.

Like...So nicely showing that someone’s dream might be other person’s nightmare, so there shouldn’t be assuming everyone wants the same.

Also love ‘Thanks for understanding, Holly’ ‘Thanks for helping me understand, Branch’ 

[drachis917]

My brain decided to go off on a weird tangent which led to this: my personal headcanons for all of the hermits cooking skills! I’m gonna put it under the cut so it doesn’t get too long. Hope you enjoy, and feel free to add your own ideas!

Bdubs: Is a surprisingly good cook! Just maybe don’t joke with him while he’s working, his wild gestures will get food everywhere. 

Cub: In the past he’s been experimenting on the sly with coffee making, and he's finally revealed his skills in season nine. Probably one of the best drinks maker, and a decent enough chef as well. 

Doc: He’s... not great? He’ll try to create super-heated instant cooking machines and while he's had some success, he has yet to get the flavor on par with the impressive machinery. 

Etho: This man buys all of his food. He can do some cooking, but restaurants are another form of shopping and you know he loves shopping. 

False: She’s alright. Not amazing, but not really bad either. 

Scar: He’s always been great at making food look good. All of his meals are beautiful, but maybe not the best to eat? Though he’s been improving his flavors a lot since he started the cookie empire. 

Grian: If he wants to, he can make a pretty nice meal, though he’s much more likely to break the oven just for the heck of it and make a simple sandwich instead. 

Gem: While she isn’t a strict vegetarian, she definitely is one of the best and most creative creators of meatless dishes. 

Hypno: Doesn’t usually make his own food, but he’s got an incredible bread recipe that no one has managed to replicate quite right. 

Jevin: Slime and ovens don’t really get along, but he’s gotten pretty good at dishes that don’t require heating. 

Impulse: Pretty good cook overall! He probably served as the main chef for boatem when they were tired of potatoes. Only issue is that he sometimes forgets that most people can’t digest crystals properly. 

Iskall: Pretty alright cook, but he usually prefers instant or pre-heated stuff. 

Joe Hills: He can and will cook any meal you tell him about. He won’t guarantee it’ll be great, but you’ll never know if you don’t try. 

Keralis: He loves cooking. He’s not the best at it, but he always has a good time. The saying “too many cooks in the kitchen” never applies to him. 

Mumbo: Do not trust this man with your stove. 

Pearl: When she isn’t experimenting with weird ingredients, she’s pretty good! Though he has gotten kinda wild with new kinds of soup lately. 

Ren: Honestly he’s a rather amazing chef! The only issue is that he might get a bit of his dog hair in the food, but otherwise his bakes are an easy 10/10. 

Stress: Probably the primary baker on the server. Cupcakes, muffins, pies, if you can name it, she can bake it and it’ll be lovely. 

Tango: He’s a nightmare in the kitchen, something always gets set on fire. Somehow, though, all the food he makes ends up looking and tasting pretty good. Doesn’t clean up very well. 

TFC: Has the best tea, no one can compare. Otherwise he's pretty alright. 

Beef: Makes amazing meat dishes and pastries, just doesn’t cook them very often. It’s a treat when he does though. 

Wels: Knows a lot of medieval dishes and has an absolutely killer meat pie recipe. He’s been trying to figure out deep frying techniques, and while it’s been slow going, he’s making some progress. 

xB: Doesn’t usually cook for himself, but he is one of the main people keeping Keralis from making a complete mess of the kitchen. 

Xisuma: Do you think this man can cook? He can, actually. He isn’t that confident in his skills though, so he mostly just cooks for himself when he doesn’t want to go out. 

Zedaph: If the definition of cooking is putting ingredients together and mixing them over heat, then he can cook technically! Though there is about an 80% chance that it’ll taste very strange. 

Cleo: She’s a fantastic cook, makes a lot of her own food. Though, if you don’t share her undead diet, you probably don’t want to eat any of it. 

[flumet]

Flumet Fanfiction Masterlist

Link to my AO3

Fandoms so far: MCU, HP, MHA

My Hero Academia/BNHA

Sticky Notes - Aizawa Shouta/Yagi Toshinori, w/c 943, complete

Marvel/MCU:

One shot series:

Pets and Vets - Stony AU - Tony/Steve, Works: 2/?, total w/c: 3684, on hiatus

Pet's and Vet's

Chocolate Mousse & Cinnamon Pie

Harry Potter:

Listen to my heartbeat - Harry/Draco, w/c ~24k, on hiatus

The Boy Who Chose To Die - Gen, w/c 1220, complete, Trigger warning: Suicide

Clement the Clabbert - Draco/Luna, w/c 3132, complete

One shot series:

The adventures of Snape slowly adopting Harry Potter - Gen, Works: 13/?, total w/c: 30 972, ongoing

The Beginning of Something (called family)

Family Portrait

Stories and Hot Chocolate

Because I Worry

Little Potion Maker

For The Best

Books & Bruises

Little Bat

Just a Nightmare

High Adventures

Growing Together

All Hallows' Eve

When I Look Back 

[starlitfunkster]

Welp, I have no idea what the heck I did with the original Halloween image! (It's probably been tossed away somewhere, and I just can't find it at the moment)

Happy Halloween from everyone of my DA mascots (+Nightmare Matcil)!

Ribbon is in her Monster AU version, where she is a fox spirit.

Jelly Imp Cookie has her Carnival Mischief Maker costume on! It goes hand in hand with Devil Cookie's costume in Kingdoms.

Locke demonstrates his shapeshifting skills alongside a potion. He's cosplaying as Pumpkin Pie Cookie from Cookie Run Kingdoms!

And uh.. I'm wearing another outfit from Kingdoms. It's that one Vampire Cookie costume that turns him pink. That I don't even have...

...Oh yeah, and there is Nightmare Matcil, which is from DA's 'Halloween Post'. If you want to see the full-body (and extent of powers), you should go check out the link above.

[windblume-wishes]

Hello Windblume! I noticed that you have requests open so I thought I’d request HCs for Child!Kaeya who just was taken into the Dawn Winery by Crepus and little Diluc. Also, I welcome you to Tumblr!

𝔾𝕣𝕖𝕖𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤, 𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝕋𝕣𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕝𝕖𝕣! 𝕀𝕥’𝕤 𝕒 𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕦𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕒𝕔𝕔𝕖𝕡𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕣𝕖𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕥! ♡︎

Thanks for the kind welcome, Anon-Chan! It’s a pleasure to be here! ♡︎

I do hope these HCs are satisfactory to you, anon!

𝕃𝕖𝕥’𝕤 𝕤𝕖𝕖 𝕟𝕠𝕨, 𝕀 𝕓𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕖𝕧𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕒𝕝𝕖 𝕘𝕠𝕖𝕤 𝕒 𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖...

Child!Kaeya - Little and Scared (Head Canons)

After being strategically ditched on the side of the road near the winery, Kaeya was immediately welcomed into the home by Crepus Ragnvindr and his son Diluc, Kaeya was still rather frightened and absolutely bewildered by his new surrounding.

When Adeline brought Kaeya up to the bathroom for a proper bath so he did not stay a grubby mess, Kaeya became much like a frightened kitten and hid in the corner to avoid more water.

He abandoned his hesitation when Adeline promised him hot chocolate with a little extra sweetness added in.

Poor child never had hot chocolate before so he wanted to try some.

Absolutely refused to remove his eyepatch. Would scream and wail if she attempted to remove it.

Skin and bones in a very literal way, Adeline had never seen a little boy so skinny in her life! Diluc was a twig but at least he was not like little Kaeya.

The fluffy bath towel she swaddled him in after his bath practically swallowed him up. So did Diluc’s old nightgown…

It was quite adorable to see such a small child in a oversized nightgown.

Despite being a shy and quiet newcomer, he was still very much like any frightened child when it came to thunderstorms and would cry. Maybe not loudly, but definitely had the tears, sniffles and the occasional hiccups.

Scared as can be, Kaeya was still hesitant to accept comfort of any sort but he was not against Crepus holding him when he got too shaken up.

Literally melted into the man’s arms and snuggled closer for warmth.

To help him calm down, Diluc grabbed his music box and played it for Kaeya. (The song it played was the Dawn Winery theme)

Crepus gave Kaeya a comfort blanket to make him feel secure, it worked, the second he was wrapped up in the pale blue blanket, he calmed down almost instantly.

Poor baby never had such a soft blanket in his life, let alone heard a music box play a lullaby before.

Diluc gifted Kaeya one of his spare teddy bears (which had an adorable navy blue bow around its neck).

Fell asleep in Crepus’s arms as he rocked him by the fire.

Due to being out in the rain for a long period of time that day, Kaeya became ill and had a rather difficult night.

Crepus had to stay with him all night with him in his arms but he did not mind one bit. Papa Bear Mode kicked in for the little one he held.

Shared a bedroom with Diluc until his room was put together and decorated in blue with a Calla Lily print on the quilt.

Little Kaeya was likely plagued with nightmares of Khaenri'ah and would awaken screaming in the middle of the night. Crepus would be the one to try and calm the child if he became too frantic.

Diluc sometimes was able to calm Kaeya down and would snuggle with him all night if he needed to.

Crepus did manage save a photograph of the two cuddling one morning after one of Kaeya’s nightmares.

That photo is still in the mansion. Adeline has it in her room and uses it against the two nowadays whenever she catches them arguing.

Once fully accustomed to his new life at the mansion, Kaeya became a rather clingy child and purposely annoyed Diluc with the “clingy baby brother” act.

Ended up becoming quite the miniature trouble maker. Any pie, cookies, or sweets if any kind, would immediately be stolen by him. Adeline did not exactly mind mainly because she wanted Kaeya to gain a bit of healthy weight on his toothpick body.

——————

**A/N: I will do a follow up on this request if requested for a part two ♡︎

[happytroopers]

I LOVE your writing and these little ask games , so, for my beloved Techie Pie (If you're still taking requests for this one):

Fears/phobias

Bad or petty habits

Grudges and vendettas

What gets them flustered

Ingrained habits/forces of habit

Side not I love his lil HUD

Fears/ Phobias

-Just in general, things he doesn't understand makes him uneasy. Especially when he can't even try to learn about them.

-He'll never admit it but The Force™️ kinda creeps him out- he knows everything available to him about midichlorians but like, the way midichlorians can interact with external forces, telekinesis, precognition, subtle mind control, and maker knows what else?? no thanks

-read the mission briefings about the night sisters and immediately put Dathomir on his DNI list.

-Asajj is his worst nightmare

-That being said he's very good at working through these fears because the more he works through them, the more he learns, and therefore the fear lessens.

-this also comes from the pressure of being the 'brains' of his squad, they rely on him to know everything, so he's always worried that one day he won't know something and it might result in his brothers being injured for worse

Bad or Petty habits:

-When he doesn't have his gloves on I feel like he's a nail biter (me? self projecting? never.)

-bad habit of taking things apart just to see how they work, then once he knows, losing interest and not putting them back together

-I have this running head canon that the Havoc Marauder had a medical droid. past tense. Tech took it apart one night when he couldn't sleep and has never gotten around to putting it back together.

-Along with the taking things apart, he'll keep spare parts around. And not in the 'I can logically use this again' but in the compulsive 'I can't throw away this part that only fits on this one kind of thing bc what if by chance I need it again someday' so he ends up a borderline hoarder of scrap metal, circuits, and tools.

-he's always the one to finish the Caf but not start another pot

-post war when they're not always eating rations, he's the WORST about eating other peoples leftovers and he's doesn't feel bad about it

-When someone manages to prove him wrong, he's like a lil petty towards that person until he feels as if he's intellectually one upped them again

Grudges/ Vendettas:

- more of a petty grudge but he keeps a running tab of all the stuff Wrecker has broken. Brings it up every time he needs Wrecker to doo something he doesn't want to.

-Obvs the despite "understanding" Crosshair, still holds a grudge that the sniper couldn't push through his program to stay with them- ESP after they escaped the downfall of Kamino

-other than that, I feel like Tech is kind of a go with the flow kinda guy. No use in holding too many grudges, wasted mental energy and this guy is many thoughts head full 24/7

What gets them flustered:

-if the object of his affection has any sort of physical contact? red in the face almost instantly

-If the object of his affection deliberately and obviously complimented him (like we're talking OBVI OBVI bc despite his big brain nature, he can be a bit obtuse with emotions), I just think he'd immediately go all mushy

-BUT OH BOY IF THE BJECT OF HIS AFFECTION ENGAGED WITH HIS INTELLECTUAL CONVERSATIONS, AND LIKE KEPT UP AND SHOWED GENUINE INTEREST... ohhh boy I don't even think he'd know what to do with himself. He'd say something smart thinking no one would answer him, but then you would answer him with even a little enthusiasm. And like his brain just goes ➿➿➿ and system reboots before he can managed a stuttered rebuttal.

-honestly I really think Tech would be on the shyer side with any romantic interest. Well, shy is the wrong word- less shy, more purposefully pretending not to have feelings- but secretly gets very flustered at most things you/the object of his affection does

Forces of Habit/Ingrained Habits:

-even if it's not his responsibility, any time they go to a new planet or environment he does all the research

-Even when Echo or anyone else has done preflight checks or system repairs, he'll always go behind them and double check them

-as we know, worst habit of thinking things he knows are common knowledge

-has a lot of just military habits he can't quite shake

[viking-raider]

Southern Generation - Part IV

Summary: Sy wakes up in Lily’s arms and shows his gratitude for her comforting him. The mysterious caller is revealed, causing Sy to get extremely protective.

Pairing: Captain Syverson/OFC

Word Count: 7,178

Rating: M - Language, Protective!Sy, Domestic Kink, Stalking, Harassment, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst, Confession, Smut - Nipple stimulation, intercourse, orgasm, cream pie. 

Inspiration: Always wanted to write a Sy fic and this is a re-work on an old fic I wrote several years ago.

Author’s Note: Thank you for all the love and support, @wondersofdreaming​! Your ideas, suggestions and encouragement mean the world to me, and my stories.

Sy woke the next morning wrapped around a warm body and a steady heart beat in his ear, he tipped his head back and was met with Lily's sleeping face, his head pillowed on her breasts. He smiled, hugging his arms snugger around her waist and sighed, comfortable and peaceful, nuzzling his face into her chest.

Lily moaned softly, making Sy smile against the fabric of the night shirt she was wearing, her hand moved against the broad expanse of his back, fingertips sleepily caressing his spine, unconsciously soothing him, before moving between his shoulder blades, tickling the nape of his neck and rubbing the back of his head with her palm.

He vaguely remembered her calling his name and holding him after his nightmare, whispering into his ear that he was safe and at home, with her. Lily made the choice to bring him to her bed, comforting him even more, until he fell asleep, and for the first time in years, Sy actually dreamt about something other than war and endless spaces of bloody sand.

Reaching up, Sy brushed his fingers through her bangs, smiling. “My Angel.” He whispered, not wanting to wake her.

Carefully unwrapping himself from around her, Sy slipped out of bed and gingerly covered Lily up, before tip toeing downstairs to the kitchen. Scratching the back of his head for a moment, Sy moved about the kitchen, setting up the coffee maker, pulled out the skillet and started making breakfast. He figured she had been making him breakfast every morning for the last several months, it was time for him to return the favor.

So, Sy went all out, once he had everything made, he brought it upstairs to her.

Lily took a deep breath and moaned, stretching and rolling onto her back, but found Sy was no longer in bed with her. She sat up, panicked that something had happened to him, and was about to get out of bed to look for him, when he appeared in the bedroom door, relieved he was all right.

“Morning.” He smiled, finding her sitting up.

“Did you make breakfast?” She frowned as he approached her side of the bed.

“I did.” He nodded, setting her steaming cup of tea on her bedside table. “I thought, since you always make me breakfast, that I'd make you breakfast this go around.” Sy explained, setting the tray of food over her lap.

“What's better than breakfast in bed?”

“Nothing currently comes to mind.” Lily smiled, a soft blush on her cheeks, actually pleasantly surprised at this change of events, touched at Sy’s sweet gesture.

“I didn't think so.” Sy chuckled, pulling up the chair that was at a small desk in her room and sat down, balancing his own plate of food in his lap.

“So, what's on your agenda today, Captain?” She asked, taking a sip of her tea and was surprised to find it was exactly to her liking.

“I think, it's time I started working on the roof.” He replied, bringing his fork to his mouth. “I want to at least give it some temporary patches, before the weather turns.” He told her, after swallowing. “It'll also give me a chance to find out what all the problems with it are, and if I'll need to re-roof it.”

“I hope not.” Lily frowned, washing down some of her food with a gulp of tea.

“Well, from what I've seen on the ground, it looks to be the original roof that was put on when the house was built.” He chuckled at her, setting his empty plate on her nightstand. “That was nearly a century ago.”

“Unless, you know about it being replaced since then?” He asked her, tilting his head.

“The realtor didn't mention it to me.” Lily replied, searching her mind for any scrap of memory of the day she bought the place.

“That's all right.” Sy assured her, gently touching her hand. “I'll get it done, don't you worry.”

Lily smiled at him, turning her hand to thread her fingers with his. “I'm not worried, since you're the one on the case.” She replied, softly.

Sy grinned at her, bringing her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingers, before letting go and collecting their plates. “You know, what would you say, if I managed to install a dishwasher for you?” He asked, pausing in the doorway of her bedroom.

“I have a dishwasher.” Lily giggled, holding up her hands and wiggling her fingers at him.

“You know what I mean, sugar butt.” He laughed, smirking even broader at her.

Lily shrugged, still giggling at him, her cheeks coloring at his nickname. “I don't know, Bear. I've never had one before.”

“Well then, Angel, I'll riddle that one out for you.” He promised in a soft voice.

“I believe you.” She whispered back, giddy, and not for a dishwasher.

“I'm going to check the mail.” Lily said, drying her hands on a dish towel, after washing the dishes from lunch.

“All right.” Sy nodded, still sitting at the table.

Sy had stood to refill his coffee cup, when the phone rang. Biting his lip and glancing out of the kitchen, he saw Lily was too far down the driveway to call her back to answer it, so he picked it up instead; clearing his throat.

“Moore residence.” He spoke into the receiver.

“She's a sweet thing, isn't she?” A sinister voice asked from the other end.

“Excuse you?” Sy barked, a flash of hot anger bursting through his body.

“Oh yes.” The voice chuckled, incredibly delighted. “She is sweet as a Lily, so pure and good.”

“Who is this?” Sy demanded with a deep growl, his teeth gritted and bared as he gripped the handle of the phone even tighter in his hand.

“She's mine, you know.” They growled back at Sy, breathing heavily, their own anger mounting. “She's always been mine and she will always be mine.”

“Not anymore.” Sy hissed back and slammed the phone down in its cradle.

“Sy?” Lily frowned, coming into the kitchen as he hung up the phone. “Who was that?”

“I don't know, you tell me?” He replied, turning towards her, brows drawn together.

“I'm not the one that answered it, Austin.” She countered, shaking her head, confused by his anger.

“It was some guy, said you were his, always had been and would be.” Sy told her, pushing his jaw forward.

Lily's eyes glassed over, letting out a shuddering breath and started trembling. Sy blinked at her, his anger at the caller's words melting away to alarmed concern. He took a step forward, reaching out for her, but Lily stumbled away from him, tears finally spilling free.

“Lily.” He whispered softly, his chest tight. “Easy.” He cooed at her, licking his lips.

“I'm not his, not anymore.” She whimpered, shaking her head. “Why can't he just leave me be.”

Sy blinked at her, frowning harder. “What?”

“Nothing.” Lily mewled, biting her lip.

“No, come on.” He coaxed her, resting his hand on her arm and gently pulled her against him. “Tell me.” He whispered, gently rubbing her back.

“I thought I got away from him.” She sniffled against his shirt. “Thirteen hundred miles away from him. I was so careful—so careful.” She mumbled, hands clinging onto the sides of his shirt. “I don't-I don't know how he found me—unless...”

“Unless?” Sy frowned, still slowly rubbing her back and trying to process what she was telling him. “Sit down.” He said, moving them towards the breakfast table and pulled out a chair for her, before bringing the other one around from the other side to sit beside her.

“Start at the beginning.”

Lily cleared her throat and stared down at her hands, folded in her lap. “I was born and raised in Middleburg, Virginia. You know, that I'm an only child and that my mom died, when I was born. I was raised by my grandparents, because my dad was in and out of my life, before just finally disappearing from it, when I was nineteen.” She explained to him, licking her lips.

“He blamed me for my mom's death.” She added, quietly.

Sy reached out and rested his hand on her thigh, squeezing it gently, and gave her a sweet smile.

“When I was seventeen, I met a boy at church, Jak.” Lily continued to explain to him. “It was the only time I really got to interact with others, my grandparents were strict, homeschooling me and only really letting me out of the house, unless they were with me, which was usually only for church on Sunday.” She fidgeted, shyly. “He was the only boy to show any interest in me, which didn't and did surprise me. The little house on the prairie dresses my grandma made me wear, and the glasses I had back then, you could see the moon through them.” She chuckled, cheeks colored.

Sy smiled back at her, even picturing her as a little girl like that, he still found her beautiful.

“But, Jak didn't care, or at least he didn't say or show he did. I would sneak out at night to meet him in the apple orchard my grandfather grew. It had been in our family since the Revolutionary War, the land was given to my, how many times, great-grandfather as payment for his service in the war.”

“I bet it's beautiful.” Sy commented, warmed at the thought.

“They are, so many of the trees are the original ones that were planted.” She smiled back, picturing the orchard in her mind. “The first one that was ever planted, after he cleared away the land, is still there and yielding, there's a plaque staked by its roots, and people come from all around to see it and the orchard, the Warren Apple.”

Sy rested back in his chair. “Your family owns the Warren Orchard Company? You're one of those Warrens?”

“I am.” She nodded, smiling proudly at that fact, but it vanished.

“Anyway, Jak and I would sneak every moment we could to see each other. He even got a job, during the summer, in the orchard, so we could see each other even more.” She took a deep breath, letting it out softly. “But, a year after we met and started being sweet on each other, my grandparents lodged a missionary for his two year mission in our ward. Jak thought he and I were getting close, that my grandparents had actually brought him to live with us, so he and I could court and marry.”

“He grew jealous and possessive. I was stupid, naive and young, I didn't know what was happening, that he was being abusive, until it was almost far too late.”

“What happened, that caused you to realize it?” Sy asked, tilting his head at her.

“I met Jak in the orchard one night, when I was twenty, the day after the missionary went back home to Michigan, because his two years were up. When I got there, Jak was pacing, already angry. Livid. When he saw me, he started yelling about how he had seen me kissing the missionary, how we practically ate each other's faces on the back porch, while everyone else was in the house, during his farewell party.” She said, glancing out the window behind the breakfast table.

“Of course, I hadn't been. Matt, the Missionary, and I had been on the back porch together, I had gone out there to get away from the press of all the people and he went out there to check on me. We had hugged, only the once, since doing so isn't really acceptable, two not courting, unchaperoned kids. But, we did nothing more, before going back inside. The truth didn't matter to Jak though, he had his version of what he saw and it was unchangeable.” Lily bit her lip and gripped Sy's wrist as his hand still laid on her thigh. “He lost his temper and hit me, but in my love sick stupidity, I didn't break it off there or tell my grandparents about it.”

“Instead, I enrolled in a university for Photography and Web Design, moved out of my grandparents' place and into one with him, like an idiot.”

“You weren't an idiot, Lily.” Sy told her, shaking his head and slipping his hand into hers. “It's more common than you think.”

“I know it is.” She sighed, clinging onto his hand.

“He only got worse and it got harder for me to get my school work done, with him accusing me that I was sleeping with my project partners, even teachers.” She huffed, shaking her head at his allegations, that now sounded so ridiculous. “The straw that broke the camel's back was,” She paused, biting and licking her lips, fighting down a bubble of emotions and memories. “One of my project mates called to ask me about the faux website we were designing for a fake company we had to make up, cause she wanted to know what time was good for us to meet up, and Jak answered the phone, claimed he heard a guy in the background, throwing the phone across the living room and went ballistic, saying I was having her call me to set up a time for me and the guy he heard, to try and fool him.”

“He spent the next hour going to town on me.” She said, glancing up at him, the hint and meaning in her eyes.

“Afterwards, he went to work and I packed a bag. I had some money from the family orchard business, so I took a good portion of it, bought a greyhound bus ticket to a cousin I was close to in New Jersey, Maggie, and stayed with her, knowing he wouldn't find me there, my grandparents wouldn't think I'd go there, and she wouldn't ever rat on me. While I was there, I petitioned for a name change, from Liliana Warren to Lily Ana Moore, and finished my degree, then found this place and moved out here.”

“So, how do you think he found you?” Sy asked, worried about her safety and angry that this asshole had the audacity to hurt her and wanted to try and hurt her again, but he kept a lid on his temper, not wanting to frighten her anymore than she already was.

“I've been keeping tabs on my grandparents, mostly through my cousin.” Lily answered, biting her lip. “She called me a year ago, to tell me that my grandmother had a stroke, a pretty bad stroke at that. She's apparently wheelchair bound now. Maggie went down there to visit them, and my grandfather was talking about how he needed someone to work on the company website, when Maggie let it slip that I have a web design business.”

“Oh.” Sy let out, eyes wide.

“Yeah.” She nodded back. “So, of course, they got upset, understanding that Maggie knew what had happened to me and where I was and all that. She called afterwards, apologizing up and down to me for it. She didn't tell them where I was or anything like that, just that I was safe and fine, and if I wanted to contact them, I would.”

“Did you?”

“I did.” Lily sighed, voice tight. “I figured after four years, I owed them a call.”

“So, do you think they told Jak?”

“I don't know.” She shrugged. “But, a week after I called them, I started getting hang up calls, then calls where no one would say anything for a few minutes, before hanging up. Then, two months ago, I got a call that was different from the others, he said something to me, and a month ago, he said something being soon.”

The wires connected in Sy's brain. “That's what caused you to take all those pills.”

Lily gulped and bit her lip, eyes burning, as she nodded her head. “Ye-ah.” She choked, fear and anxiety starting to mount inside of her again.

“Hey, hey.”

Sy cooed, wrapping his arms around her and pulled her into his lap, hugging her against his chest. “It's all right, Lily. It's going to be all right, I promised to protect you and I will. You are safe with me, you will always be safe with me, whatever the cost.” He whispered in her ear, holding her close and planning ways and means to protect her.

“Sy?” Lily called from the open door of her bedroom, just as Sy stepped out of the hall bathroom, in nothing, but a pair of black boxers.

“Lily?” He replied, rubbing the towel over his head, and looked up at her, lifting a brow, inquisitively.

Lily rested her hand on the handle of her door and stepped sideways, giving a little motion of her head into her room, a soft and offering expression on her face. Sy blinked at her, surprised, then down at Aika, who sat in the doorway of his room, feeling like he was picking what lady to sleep with for the night.

He tilted his head at Aika and gave her a sympathetic expression.

“Sorry, Girl.” He whispered to the Shepherd, turning towards Lily.

Lily chuckled at him, smiling and shaking her head as he passed by her and into her room. “You can come too, Aika.” She called to her, then turned into her room.

“You're cool with this?” Sy asked, eyes motioning to her bed.

“It was my idea, wasn't it?” She smiled at him, then stepped inside her closet for a moment and came back in a t-shirt-like nightie with Mickey Mouse on it, before pulling down the blankets and crawling into bed.

“It was.” He nodded, then laid down with her, covering up.

Lily scooted closer to him and Sy draped his arm over her waist, tucking her against him and she let him lay his head on her chest, stroking his arm. She was comfortable with the warm weight of his body against hers, the clean scent of his skin and hair from his shower. She felt Sy's body slowly melt into hers as he fell asleep, it had been her plan. Lily knew there was a high likelihood of Sy having another episode or nightmare, but figured, if he was there, with her, already safe and comfortable in her arms, he wouldn't have it.

That was her deepest hope, at least.

But, the next thing Lily knew, she was being jerked roughly off the bed and pinned underneath Sy's mountainous weight, his heavy and hot breath puffing against the side of her face as he blanketed her with his body, clearly startled and on high alert. The room lit up with a quick flash of lightning and the furious sound of rain beating on all parts of the house filled the bedroom around them.

“Austin.” She gasped, grasping the back of his arms, nails digging into his sweaty skin, thinking he had been set off by the noise of the sudden storm. “Aust-”

“Ssshhh.” He hushed her, lips brushing her temple, the hairs of his beard tickling her skin. “Stay here.” He whispered into her ear, then moved off of her and out of the room, Aika sitting in the open doorway and growling into the darkness of the hallway after him.

Lily sat up on her elbows, knowing that what was happening couldn't have been from one of Sy's nightmares or the storm, because Aika wouldn't be acting like this, she was angry, like she was daring something Lily couldn't see to try and cross her. But, nothing came, not even Sy, and Lily was starting to get worried. So, getting up, she edged around Aika and tip toed downstairs, jerking at another boom of thunder and crack of lightning, until she found Sy standing in the entryway.

“Austin?” She called out to him, over the sound of the rain, which sounded much louder downstairs.

“I told you to stay upstairs.” He barked, not looking back at her.

“What's wrong?” She asked, knowing there had to be something, by the tone of his voice.

“Nothing, just go back to bed.”

Narrowing her eyes, Lily stepped closer to him and her eyes grew wide, seeing what had caused Sy to wake up and react like he had. The large bay window in the den that faced out onto the porch and the front of the property was smashed, the glitter of the broken glass shined in the lightning strikes and left the outline of the brick amongst them, the cause of the broken window. Lily's eyes snapped out the living room window, expecting to see someone, not just someone, but Jak, to be standing out in the yard, staring back at them. But, there was no one, but her and Sy's cars. Her heart started to race and pound, making her feel dizzy and lightheaded, trembling so hard she almost lost her balance, but caught herself on the back of the couch.

Sy turned and grabbed her, picking her up in his arms and carried her back up to bed. “Stay here.” He ordered her, pointing a stiff finger at her, then went back downstairs.

Going out back, Sy grabbed a large piece of plywood he had bought in preparation for repairing the roof and instead used it to board up the broken window, until the storm passed and morning came, so he could find a piece of glass to replace it, leaving him and the den floor mostly wet. He moped the den floor and laid out nearly every towel Lily had in the house in hopes the old floorboards wouldn't warp under the water damage.

He stepped out onto the porch for a moment, glaring into wet dark. “This is my house now.” He growled, knowing Jak was still out there somewhere nearby. “My girl.” He hissed, before turning back inside, going up to the guest room to change into a dry pair of boxers and joined Lily back in her bed.

“It was him.” She mumbled, hugging her pillow to her chest. “It had to be him.”

Sy sighed softly, locking his arms around her waist and hugged her to his chest, curving his body around hers. He didn't know what to say to her, they both knew it had to be Jak, who else would have thrown a brick through someone's window in the middle of a storm like this one, especially after all the other incidents over the last several months; all the lines drew back to Jak on his unhealthy, possessive rampage to reclaim Lily as his own. Sy was afraid that if he verbalized his agreement with her, it would only inflate her already inflamed fear of the obvious.

So, he just clutched her tighter to him, pressing his lips to her shoulder and squeezing his eyes shut against the bright flashes of lightning.

“Lily, I'm going to go to town, I have something I need to pick up.” He told her, searching the living room for his car keys.

“I thought you already ordered the new windowpane?” Lily called back, appearing out of the kitchen, where she was washing the dishes.

“I did.” He nodded, he had found a shop that he could order a replacement windowpane for the den window that morning, but it wouldn't be ready until the next day. “This is for something else.” He told her, finding his keys under a magazine on the coffee table.

“What are you going for, then, Bear?” She asked, tilting her head at him.

Sy paused and regarded her. “Don't worry about it, Angel. I'll be back in an hour.” He told her, then, went out.

“Okay.” Lily frowned, glancing out the living room window, the thunder and lightning had passed during the early morning, but it was still raining cats and dogs.

Sighing, Lily turned back into the kitchen, taking a bucket and mop out of the utility closet, filled the bucket with warm water and soap, before getting down to mopping the floors, with nothing else to do in the current weather.

Sy rushed out to his truck, but was still almost half soaked by the time he settled himself in the driver's seat. Turning on the car and cranking on the heat, Sy pulled off the property and headed towards Celina. He pulled into the small parking center the small town had, scanning the rain blurred signs, looking for the one he was heading for, before opening the door and rushing towards it, pulling open the door, with an electric ding, announcing his presence.

“How can I help you?” the shop owner asked, coming out of a small room in the back and stopped behind a long glass case.

“Yeah, I'm looking for something specific.” Sy replied, stopping on the other side of the glass case, a look of understanding in both men's eyes.

“What specifics would that be?”

“Taurus, PT111 G2, 9mm.” Sy rattled off with familiar ease.

“Do you have a license and ID?” The store owner asked, eyes scanning the case between them.

“Then, some.” Sy laughed, pulling out his wallet to show the man his qualifications.

“You're a retired Captain.” The man noted, seeing Sy's military ID.

“That I am.” Sy chuckled, grinning with some pride.

The store owner got Sy squared away with the weapon he wanted, a secure case and a couple rounds of ammo, while also chattering about the military, being a retired Staff Sergeant himself. Getting back into his truck, he put the case under the passenger seat, pausing to stare at it for a moment,emotions and thoughts brewing inside of him, then shook them off. Satisfied, Sy went back home to Lily, finding her dusting the living room, when he came in, carrying the case and sat it down on the coffee table.

Lily paused, dust rag poised above the mantelpiece, staring at the case. “Is that what I think it is?” She asked, finally looking up at him.

“If you think it's a gun, then yes.” Sy replied, sitting down on the couch and tugging on the soaked laces of his boots.

“Why,” She gulped, arm dropping to her side. “did you buy a gun and bring it here?”

“Because, I wanted to and as a precaution.” He answered her, yanking his boots off.

“A precaution?”

“There is a fucking asshole out there.” Sy barked, jerking his arm up and finger pointing out the window. “Trying to hurt you.” His finger moved to her, in emphasis. “I am a big man. I'm a strong man. I've killed and subdued more than one man with my bare hands, but a personal cost.” He explained to her, standing and jerking up his shirt, showing her a couple of scars on his sides and chest, some were round and puckered, gunshot wounds, others were stripes, like stab wounds.

“If that prick decides to come into this house, to try and put his hands on you. That,” He pointed down to the gun case. “is going to be the first thing he wants to meet, because if he has to get close enough to me, that I need to put my hands on him, then they will be that last thing he will ever feel.” He told her, chest heaving as he got worked up over the situation.

Lily gulped at him, biting her lip, a flash of fear in her eyes at his passionate words, seeing a vein of rage that Jak had also been capable of.

“I just want to protect you.” He said softly, taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself down; seeing he had scared her.

“I know you do, Austin.” She whimpered back, gulping, eyes shiny. “I know you do.”

Sy moaned, something cold pressing into his neck. “Hm, Lily.” He chuckled, scrunching his head and shoulders together, grinning as the cold and wet touched his bare chest, making him grunt and wiggle away. “Why are you so col-” He started to laugh, opening his eyes, only to meet the soulful and tawny colored eyes of Aika.

“Aika, what are ya doin' here?” He frowned, and sat up, finding it was just him and the German Shepherd in the bed, Lily nowhere in sight. “Lily?” He called out, turning his head towards the master bathroom, but it was empty.

Panic filled Sy as he yanked the blankets back and pounded down the stairs into the living room, then the den. Sy squeezed his eyes shut, taking deep breaths and clenching his hands in and out of fists, trying to keep himself cool and calm, before going into the kitchen, hearing the screen of the back door knocking against the door frame, and found the main back door was ajar.

“What is she doing?” He whispered to himself, biting his lip and looking back, considering the option of going back upstairs and getting the gun, but something in his gut told him he wouldn't need it.

Opening the door, Sy stepped out onto the back porch, a shiver wracking his body as a strong gust of rainy wind rushed by him. He narrowed his eyes, scanning the drenched backyard, the tall, unruly and uncut grass bent from the pelting of the rain and gusts of wind, he caught a quick movement to his left and turned in that direction, stepping off the porch and followed after it, towards the barn, just catching the billowing fabric of Lily's white nightie, vanishing inside.

“Lily, what are you doing in here?” He called out, pushing open the barn door a bit more. “Lily?” He called again, frowning as he crossed the barn and found her huddled in one of the old horse stalls. “What are you doing in here, Angel?” He cooed at her, shaking his head, droplets of rain running down both of their faces, and watched her melt into the corner.

Lily panted, her back pressed against the warped and worn wall behind her, arms pressed to her chest, her nightie so soaked, it was almost see through. Sy bit his lip and gulped, slowly crouching down. He knew what was going on, he had seen and suffered things like this a million times over the last ten plus years. She was having a PTSD episode, running away from the terror that was inside her head, trying to hide and find somewhere safe from it. Everything over the last several months with Jak stalking and harassing her was really starting to affect her, finally breaking her it seemed.

“I'm not going to hurt you, love.” He said softly, keeping his voice soft and low. “Come here.” He gulped, opening his arms to her and biting his lip with apprehension. “It's all right. You know, you can trust me, Sugar.” He whispered, nodding his head as she slowly unfolded herself and crawled over to him.

“Hey, Angel.” Sy cooed, sighing softly, and closed his arms around her, pressing his lips to the top of wet her head. “Ssshh.” He hushed her, rubbing her back and cupping the back of her head, feeling her tears add to the raindrops on his chest.

“I c-can-can't ta-take it an-anymore.” She sobbed, trembling in his arms, overcome with emotions and cold.

“We'll get through this, Angel.” He whispered to her, cupping her chilled cheeks in his hands and tilted her head back to look up at him. “We will get through this. You and I will get through this together. Everything will work out.”

Lily shook her head, her pale lips trembling. “N-no, it wo-won't. He-he always g-gets what h-he wants. All-always.” She mewled, whining. “I don't kn-know why I-I thought I c-could ge-get away.”

Sy's expression was hard for a moment, before he brought their faces together and kissed her, deeply. Lily stiffened against him, taken off guard by his kiss, but she didn't pull away or push him away. Gulping, she shyly returned his kiss, resting her hands on him, feeling the skin of his sides jump and react to her icy touch.

“I've wanted to kiss you.” Sy said, pulling back. “For such a long time.” He admitted, looking into her eyes. “Since that day on the porch, when you woke me up.”

“Since, you gave me your hoodie at the fair.” She whispered back, licking her lips, the warmth of Sy's still lingering on them.

Sy leaned forward, kissing her gently and brushing his fingers through her dripping hair, Lily pushing forward to deepen it for a moment, letting out a breathy whimper. Sy smirked, then looked down at the floor between them, it was still strewn with decades old hay and dirt. He held up a finger and stood, bumping around in the dark barn before a scratching sound sounded among the patter of rain on the metal barn roof. A moment later, a teeny glow filled the space and Sy approached where Lily was still kneeling, holding an old, beat up, oil lantern he knew was in the barn from his many searches of the space, hanging it up on a bent and rusty nail on the stall wall, then disappeared for another moment.

“Stand up.” He said, motioning her out of the stall, holding something in his arms.

Lily frowned at him, but stepping out of the stall and out of his way, catching a glimpse of what it was, it was one of the drop clothes he bought for when he painted the house, keeping the paint off the new porch. Sy unfolded the drop cloth over the dirty hay and stall floor, making sure it was comfortable, then turned back to her.

“How gentlemanly.” Lily complimented him.

“I am a Southern boy.” Sy chuckled, letting his Southern drawl deepen, and wrapping his arm around her waist, pulling her against him. “Who's in love with Southern Lady.”

Lily blushed as Sy kissed her again, hugging her against him and up off her feet, turning around and slowly dropped to his knees, gently laying her back on the situated drop cloth. Lily wrapped her arms around Sy's neck, moaning softly against his lips, feeling the fabric of her nightie rub against her cold hardened nipples as Sy moved to kiss down to her neck, sinking his teeth into her delicate skin and let out a loud moan, pushing up against him.

“Austin!” She cried out, pressing her cheek to his ear as he continued to bite and suck on her neck, his beard tickling and rubbing against the skin underneath her jaw, leaving it red and sensitive.

Sy chuckled, loving the sound of her calling out his name with the metal patter of rain, his hand gliding over the soaked material of her nightie, bunching and hiking it up out of his way, pressing his palm against her side, rubbing his big hands all over her exposed body, grunting and growling into her neck, like a wild grizzly bear, finally getting his claws on his prized catch. His big mitts were on her plump breasts almost instantly, squeezing and kneading them, rubbing the rough pads of his thumbs over the sensitive nubs of her nipples, making her moan and whimper, fidgeting beneath him and rubbing her legs together, adding to the growing slickness between them.

“You sound so sweet.” Sy moaned back, pulling away from her neck, a set of dark teeth marks left behind, dipping his head for a moment to swirl his tongue around one of her nipples.

“Sy.” She whined, gulping down a moan. “Sy, please.”

“Oh.” He smiled, impishly. “You like that?” He asked, flicking her erect nipple with the tip of his tongue and watched her partially melt. “Your sweet, sensitive, little buds.” He cooed, then closed his lips around one of them, suckling gently, rubbing and rolling his tongue against it.

“Ah, shit!” Lily gasped, gripping his shoulders, eyes rolling and fluttering back into her head, heels digging into the fabric of the drop cloth. “God damn it, Austin.” She snapped, pressing her palms to the back of his head, holding his mouth to her breasts, her moans and whimpers filled the barn, pushing against him, egging and begging him to keep going, her breathing growing rugged and labored, moans becoming more urgent and reckless.

“Ah, fuck fuck fuck.” She cried out. “Suck them harder.” She coaxed and demanded. “Oh shit! Please, Austin!!” She gasped suddenly, body going rigid with a soft tremor.

Sy pulled away from her and dripped a hand between her trembling thighs, finding an extremely wet patch there. “So, you come, when you get your pretty breasts sucked.” He grinned, fully turned on and impressed, licking her juices off his fingers and palm.

“I've also never heard you say such naughty words.” He added, teasingly.

Lily chuckled, slowly recovering and smiling shyly up at him.

“Oh, it's too late to get shy now, Angel.” Sy laughed, leaning down and kissed the corner of her mouth. “Your secret is out.” He continued to tease her, playfully bouncing her boobs in his palms.

“And, I'm not letting you off.”

“I'm going to regret this, I can just feel it now.” Lily huffed, shaking her head, but her smile gave away her true feelings.

“Yes, you are.”

Sy chuckled, his hand dipping back between her legs, rubbing her still dripping folds with his calloused fingers, melting her into a puddle of weak and vulnerable whimpers. “You're so sensitive and sound so sweet.” He cooed at her, licking his lips and watching her face. “So, so sweet.” He panted, mouth slightly ajar, slipping his free hand into his damp boxers, curling his fingers around his thick and rock hard shaft, giving it a few shallow strokes.

Lily's eyes drifted down the length of her sweaty body, watching Sy work his cock inside his underwear and felt herself shiver in want and anticipation of it. She licked her lips and looked up at him, their eyes in a silent communication of what they both wanted. Sy shifted, yanking off his boxers to kneel between Lily's legs, wrapping them around his waist, her hips and bottom resting atop his thighs, with the small of her back lifted off the drop cloth beneath her.

“You're sure?” Sy panted, gulping thickly and already breaking out into a sweat, staring at her with wide eyes and blown out pupils.

“Yes.” Lily sighed, nodding her head vigorously at him. “God, yes.” She moaned, squeezing her legs around his waist.

Sy smirked, pressed a hand to her hip, pushing it up her side to palm one of her breasts, squeezing and rubbing it, while taking the base of his cock in his other hand, pumping it a few times, rubbing the fat and cut tip against her still wet pussy, slowly slipping between her folds, brushing her entrance and pushing inside. Lily let out a moaning sigh through her nose, feeling his wide girth stretch her open far more than she had ever been before. Her toes curled and squeezed his hips between her calves and thighs, back arching and hips shifting against the nearly uncomfortable burn of his length being buried ever deeper inside her core. Sy tilted his head at her, bracing a hand on the drop cloth, beside her head, and leaned over her, causing Lily to let out a raspy gasp as his cock changed angles inside of her, and kissed her, slow and passionately, still pushing his hips into her.

“You are so beautiful.” He rasped against her lips, nibbling on her pouty bottom lip.

“Austin.” She whimpered back, breathy, hooking her arms under his arms and pressing her palms flat against tense and sweaty back, nails digging into his cool skin. “Austin.” She chanted, softly, rubbing her nose against his.

“Lily.” Sy moaned back, finally flush inside of her, and rocked into her, taking his time and enjoying her heavenly warmth wrapped around his cock, like a toasty sleeve. “I love you, Lily.” He whispered into her ear, kissing her jaw and cheek.

Lily blushed and let out an airy chuckle, hiding her face in his neck and broad shoulder, hugging her arms and legs tighter around his body, clinging onto him for dear life and squeezed her eyes shut, taking in the sound of Sy's heavy breathing and loud moans and groans, grunting, and sighing out her name, the still steady pitter-patter of the fat raindrops on the old, rusted tin roof and sun-kissed wood walls, all mixed with her own sounds of pleasure.

“Sy?” Lily whispered, after their shared climax, still feeling the euphoric and relaxing pleasure it gave both of them, as she laid on the drop cloth, half tucked underneath Sy's body for warmth in the drafty barn.

“Hm?” He hummed back, nosing her hair and took a deep breath.

Lily smiled, feeling the vibration in his chest, nuzzling back into him. “I love you too, Austin.” She whispered, turned her head to look back at him.

Sy lifted his head and looked down at her, a smile slowly pulling across his lips, an excited and giddy feeling in the pit of his stomach, reaching out to gently brush her hair out of her face, picking out a few bits of straw that happened to get stuck in it from earlier; before oh-so-tenderly kissing her.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me, Angel.” He murmured against her cheek.

“I'm guessing as happy as it makes me, Bear.” She chuckled back, kissing the tip of his nose.

Lily softly stirred just before dawn, cradled in Sy's arms as he carried her out of the barn, the rain finally letting up, and into the house. He carried her upstairs to her room and gently laid her down on her bed, letting him help her out of her still damp nightie and tossed it through the open door of her master bathroom, before crawling into bed with her.

Both of them were out cold before the blankets settled around them, unaware of the audience they had a good deal of the night.

[tf2-headcanons-and-scenarios]

Hi!Idk if this has been done before, but could I get some head cannons of how the family of the mercs (Heavy’s mother and sisters, Scout’s mom and maybe brothers, Demo’s mom)react to their s/o and having like a niece/nephew/grandchild depending on the relation.I just think it would be cute

A/N: This can honestly tie in with another headcanon ask I did involving children. As a side note, I personally headcanon Scout’s brothers as being half-brothers. Hope you enjoy! :)

Scout:

- Scout honestly didn’t want his brothers to properly get involved with his life at first, mainly because of how they grew up and how they treated him

- Being half-brothers, Scout doesn’t really trust them too well either

- His mom on the other hand, he wanted to tell her E V E R Y T H I N G that happened in his life. He just loves her too much

- When he brings you home, he’s really nervous about what will happen, especially around his brothers

- Things surprisingly don’t go half bad, especially when you prove to his brothers that you can kick ass

- Scout’s mom is just relieved that Scout was able to find someone wonderful and lovely, and she loves joking around with you and telling you embarrassing stories of her son

- When the time came and Scout had his own children, it was around the time his brothers were settling down and moving on from their delinquent demeanour

- They really enjoy having a niece/nephew to spoil on Christmas, and they’re softies around them

- Scout’s mom is the ultimate Grandma

- She’s the one that allows the children to have cookies before bed, lots of cake and lots of TV

- The children love visiting her as often as possible

Demoman:

- Demoman’s mother was a person that Demoman held high respect and love for

- Being blind has not stopped this woman from whooping her son’s ass if he does something wrong

- When he begins to talk to her about you, she catches on the fact that her son is in love and demands he stop being a coward and confess to you already

- When you both meet at last, she is overjoyed and begins embarrassing Demoman on the spot

- She will tell you stories of his father and their line of generational demolition work, and the fact that the family owns a castle

- When the children eventually arrive in the future, she keeps discipline up but she won’t lay a finger on them

- She lets them sit in front of the TV and gives them snacks so long as they behave and do what they have to do

- She will encourage the grandchildren to become demolition experts

- She will be the granny that lives with the main family

Heavy:

- This man was always putting family above all else, even if it came down to a decision between them and his job

- He didn’t hesitate to introduce you to his mother and sisters, but boy were you nervous about meeting them

- It took a while for his sisters to validate you into the family, mainly because the last thing they wanted to see was their big brother hurt

- When they did accept you into the family, they were like the sisters you always wanted (even if they were intimidating like your Heavy)

- Heavy’s mother took to you like a duck to water and always prepared a feast whenever you accompanied Heavy back home

- When you fell pregnant for the first time, Heavy’s sisters started taking bets on the gender of the child long before you were three months pregnant

- Zhanna somehow won that bet

- To the children, Heavy’s sisters were protective and encouraging much like Heavy was, except they were there to help cause harmless mischief

- Heavy’s mother would be such a gentle grandmother to her grandchildren. She would love babysitting them, singing songs to them and telling them stories of the family

- Hope you like Russian stories, because Heavy’s mother has a whole library stored in her head

Sniper:

- Sniper was so nervous introducing you to his mother and father, especially his dad

- You yourself was scared to make a terrible first impression in front of them

- The moment Sniper Introduced you as his lover, his father dropped to his knees and yelled for joy

- This man lost faith in his son ever finding someone nice to date long ago and boy was he RELIEVED

- His mother took a more non-insane bubbly reaction, embracing you and Sniper into a hug and announcing a family feast

- When they passed away, it took a toll on the both of you, especially when Sniper found out that they weren’t his real parents

- Meeting his birth parents was like introducing Soldier to the idea of higher education; it was an absolute nightmare!

- The constant glares you were given by Lar-Nar and the obnoxious questions asked by Bill-Bell got on your nerves faster than it did for the very patient bushman

- You hated to admit that you were relieved they were selfish enough to bail when things got bad

- When you and Sniper had children, you both told stories of their loving grandparents and how much they would have adored and loved them if they ever met them

- He would often tell the children how his father would have given terrible advice and a shot of whiskey on the rocks by the time they were 12, or how his mother would have become the best pie maker in the world because of them

- Biological parents on Sniper’s side of the family were never mentioned once and good riddance to that

[the-bjd-community-confess]

I feel like this will be a point of contention, and I'll try to explain my layers of why. Short: I don't think most artist dolls are worth the price asked.

Longer: I understand that people can set their own prices, and if people buy, that's their prerogative and right. But I don't think that objectively proves that artist dolls are worth it. I understand that part of the reason for the price is that it's more expensive to make artist dolls without a direct team behind you, so that hikes the prices, and just having that "ARTIST DOLL!" label is already a big thing in this hobby, especially by "big names". But often the engineering, or the finish, or even the design itself isn't something to brag home about.

The engineering is the biggest crux, how many artist dolls are absolute nightmare posers? Too many. You gotta suede, wire, and STILL the doll won't sit on its own, or even keep a pose right. The finish? How many artist dolls have crooked features, or there's just "something" not quite right about the anatomy? Maybe too long arms. A completely unusual head size, making wig finding a nightmare. Or just the joints not fitting right. How about poorly smoothed in facial features, or weird "egg-heads"? Bodies that miss parts, or just seem like an afterthought when sculpting.

The design? I could probably count 20+ artist dolls that have the exact same design with minors tweaks between them, the "pear body, big legs, stick arms, huge eyes, pouty mouth, and button nose" is basically most of the artist dolls found. While it's super popular, at some point it just comes across like a copy-paste. While this is not a huge gripe, it just feels kinda boring when the artist side has little originality, which is something I personally view as a selling point, the "being different" and being original with doll designs. It's basically everyone just wanting a slice of the pie, by just copying the popular girl on the block.

Even fullsets, I'm not hating on the craft of the artists, but if the price tag increases by however many hundreds of dollars, I do kinda wish it would reflect in the whole finished product. I know the "artist fullset" label already just adds some % to the price, but at the same time, is it really worth it when you can find outfits for a fraction anywhere else? Some artists don't even do the clothing, wigs or even the face-up themselves, instead everything is outsourced. How is that "artist fullset" anymore, when the artist of the doll isn't even involved in the fullset?

If your favourite seamstress could probably do the exact same design for 300 dollar less? Or your fave face-up artist does a much more elaborate face-up to your tastes without it adding 200 dollar just because the artist choose the face-up artist, especially on very "standard" styles that basically every artist offers as a basic face-up. Unless it's some complicated nightmare of epic proportions, why not support some wig-makers who'll get you your wig for several a quarter of the added cost for the fullset label? Even if it's based on their designs, I feel like artist fullset kinda carries the weight that the artist made all or at least parts of it themselves by hand.

Some of this comes from me looking at artist fullsets btw, and just seeing how often something is sewn crooked, or how some literally just badly glued on stones, and embellishments, and them just falling off the moment the owner touches them. Literal glue spots where glue was used. How can you justify around 2000 dollar for a fullset where the pieces don't even stick together? Or where leftover glue is all over? And the embellishments? If it's a doll that's supposed to last, why use embellishments that you can buy for 5bucks in bulk at the craft store and will break down into ugly in less than 5 years?

Why not get something made to last? I literally had the exact same metal embellishments as an artist used in their fullset, and I know from personal experience they turn "bad" after about 2 years in the air. 1700 dollar, and the metal embellishments are gonna look ass in less than half a decade. Some time ago looking up another artist, I recognised them having beads in a fullest which aren't  supposed to be used in sewing because they "bleed" for some reason, and people discourage their use in any fabric endeavours, or anything you don't want stained, yet they used them on a porous doll, with "high quality fabrics".

How about wigs that bleed? Or wigs that most wig makers would sell as "unstyled"? Wigs that are outsourced, and if you buy the same wig from the wig maker directly it costs less than half. Is the fullset really worth that much just bc it says "artist" on the tin, and comes "bundled"? I've seen artist dolls that normally sell for 900 dollar, sell for the mentioned 1700-2000 dollar just for being an "ARTIST fullset" and I really wonder, is it worth it?

The prices I mentioned are from real dolls, and the problems mentioned where found in those dolls. Or my "nitpicking" of using other seamstresses, wig makers or face-up artists lowering the price tag considerably, while probably being better in quality when I compare it to the flaws I've actually seen in artist fullsets. Idk I still believe anyone can decide their own prices, and you use your money as you will. This was more just me freeing my thoughts, and maybe also just wanting to see opposing viewpoints, because I'm actually genuinely curious about people who buy these dolls and their minds about these things.

~Anonymous

[halfelven]

please interact if you love building complex slides for marbles, wish you were a blacksmith, love cherry pie filling, are actually a blacksmith, daydream about volcanoes, have a scar from a coral reef or another swimming related injury, love wearing sky blue, don't understand the definition of posthumanism, have never been bowling, take breaks from class to run around campus, cry out in delight whenever you see a cool mushroom or jellyfish, are a doll maker or make doll makeovers, collect cool little rocks, love kissing puppies on the very top of their tiny little heads, enjoy washing wooden floors and polishing wood with lemon scented wood polish, hang herbs from your kitchen ceiling, collect teapots, love running on the seashore right through the waves, have recurring nightmares about tornadoes, are gay but can drive and do maths, are dyslexic but studying literature and linguistics, would be studying medicine if you were able-bodied, love wearing long skirts because of how they fly in the wind, have 'gymnastics' sessions on your bed, grew up too poor to ever get into video games, love lying face down on the ground and smelling the moss or grass, know what a walking apple is, related too much to Frodo and Aragorn as a child, and/or have been warned one too many times for comfort that your adventurous spirit will be the death of you