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missathlete31 · 1 year

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Pulled Strings

Summary: Jake Seresin is feeling stressed so he gets out his violin and begins to play. The only problem? He's not alone in the barracks today and some of his teammates are shocked to learn of his hidden talent.

This story came from the knowledge that Glen Powell was trained on the violin. Is it filled with unnecessary angst? Yes. Does it paint Hangman in a good light because it's the only way I know how to write him? Also Yes. Sorry about that.

Jake Seresin was used to stress, you didn't become one of the Navy's Top Aviators without being accustomed to it, but this mission was starting to become a bit much for even him. First it was the long suffering rivalry with Rooster. Jake didn't particularly hate Bradshaw, he just never understood him, or his proclivity to over-thinking. Sure, Hangman tended to stray a little far over the line of cocky, but he had faith in his abilities like every pilot attempting the skills they did on a daily basis should. Rooster's naivety was annoying for its sheer unsoundness. He was clearly talented, he wouldn't be where he was if he wasn't, so this faux, 'I don't know if I can go that fast or fly like Maverick' was just getting frustrating at this point.

Hangman knew he crossed a line when he brought up Rooster's father, and if he was honest with himself, he didn't even mean for it to land so wrong. He didn't mean to make it sound like he blamed Maverick, or that Nick Bradshaw's death was anything but a tragic accident. He only meant to light a fire under Rooster, to show Bradley and by extension Maverick that the mustached man was never going to be ready to fly if he didn't stop thinking and living in the past. Bradley did the team no favors, he did himself no favors, staying in his head instead of in the sky.

Since the altercation, Jake had apologized. Maverick took it with a genuine look, his eyes lost in a past that Hangman knew he was fortunate to not understand but had callously brought up anyway. It probably would have felt better if Mav had taken a swing, but the older Captain just patted Jake's shoulder and told him to go get ready for his flight later in the day.

Of course then the dark haired pilot went up to run a hop with Phoenix, Bob, and Coyote.

Jake's initial plan was to reach out to Bradley for his apology as they hung around the ready room but before he could get the words, Coyote was in G-lock and Jake's heart seemed to stop. Javy was Jake's best friend, his only real family if he was honest with himself, and the thought of losing him that day made the ramifications of this suicide mission a lot more sickeningly clear. Hangman had shakily collapsed next to the radio once Coyote finally answered but then the bird strike happened and everything seemed to get even more clouded with emotions. Jake would never survive something bad happening to Javy but he in no way thought he would feel the same way about the others, not until he kept hearing Phoenix's voice calling that they were on fire, of Bob's panicked cries that they needed to eject, of Maverick screaming they couldn't save the jet. All three voices, combining with Mav's calls for Javy to pull up, were terrifying enough to cement into Jake's nightly rote of nightmares for the time being. Another strain from an impossible mission.

Hangman went to the hospital after Phoenix and Bob were picked up like all the others but somehow, once everyone was deemed more or less in one piece, it seemed only he and Rooster remained in the waiting room, both men needing to see their teammates with their own two eyes. Jake mustered his apology there and Bradshaw, reeling from the close call of almost losing Phoenix, Bob, and Coyote in the same afternoon, had only begrudging nodded.

Things weren't fixed, they never would be, but a truce was created. And, the asshole part of Hangman also wished he could point out to some of the others who still looked at him with disappointed looks, Rooster was now flying faster and giving Jake a run for his money in terms of being wingman. Especially now that it was basically written in stone that Maverick was flying; he had demolished the course the other day after the funeral.

It was a scary concept, a foreign concept, but Jake was suddenly finding himself thinking he might not be the one flying this mission. He had the speed, that much was never in doubt, and his target locks were getting better- still not the best, but certainly no worse than the others. No, Jake's deficiency was that he had no team; the others trusted him about as far as they could throw him, and he could tell from day one that Maverick held pride in pilots that could work together, not solo showboats. Hangman had overshot his landing field in this whole predicament and it was really throwing the blond Texan off kilter.

Jake wasn't used to failure, he didn't allow for it. He didn't have to worry about facing his parent's wrath for failure anymore, that bridge collapsed and burned the day he left for the academy, but there was so much expectations Jake had placed on himself because of them, so much need to prove that he was worth the time, the effort, the love that was never given.

Yet as the hours to shipping out crept closer and closer, Hangman seemed to find his place was being filled by someone else and the looming shadow of not being good enough was getting ready to block out his sun.

Hence the stress.

His normal stress reliever was running but the typical North Island sun was hidden in rainclouds this afternoon. The team was able to have their standard lecture but hops had all been scratched, leading Jake to feel restless as he paced his small housing. Normally rain wouldn't deter a run completely for the hot shot pilot, he actually found it quite peaceful, but he doubted Maverick or Cyclone would be as accepting and the chance of a reprimand for risking illness so close to shipping out dissuaded the blond. His next thought was the gym but Jake didn't have the stomach to run into any of the others, they were on better ground but not enough that anyone went out of their way to include Hangman, except Javy of course. Coyote had texted earlier to say that he and some of the other pilots had taken the short respite the weather had afforded them to get off campus, and from the lack of noise around him, Jake assumed he was the only one left in their housing block, which offered a unique opportunity. Hangman headed over to closet, pulling out the guitar case that was one of the few personal items he allowed himself. Opening it carefully, Jake reached for not a guitar but a violin, the mismatched instrument case his attempt at not allowing others to know his hidden talent. Playing the guitar was expected from a Texan, but a violin? Not something normally entertained from a cocky Naval Aviator.

Jake took our his bow and made sure to grab some rosin, greasing it gently and properly like he was shown so many years ago. When everything was ready he brought the instrument to brace against his neck and began to play, the notes coming easily as he moved through some scales and uncomplicated melodies. Immediately, Jake's shoulders un-tensed, the power of music always calming him, and he closed his eyes and pretended he wasn't back at Top Gun and training for a deadly mission but rather back home, in Midland Texas, playing in the orchestra room with Ms. Elliot, one of his most beloved teachers, as she watched him with a pride reserved usually for parents that Jake had never experienced before.

Quickly, Jake was transitioning to harder pieces, the melancholy of both the rain and his own disappointment in his performance thus far these past few weeks making him long for sadder and more drawn out music. He naturally went to Tchaikovsky's Violin Concerto, skipping to the second movement so he could relish in the hauntingly dramatic opening melody.

Next he switched to Bach. Jake was not normally one for changing composers so quickly but he allowed it today, his fingers just playing with no real thought, his bow slicing across the strings as he integrated the two musicians a few times as the pilot sounded out his feelings. It was emotional for the blond, his own inadequacies coming out through the notes and Jake wasn't surprised when a tear, and then two, slowly trailed down his cheeks. He didn't try to wipe them, couldn't stop now that he was so engrossed in the music anyway, until he thought he heard a knock on his door.

"Bagman!" a familiarly angry voice called, "hey Bagman!"

Jake's fingers stuttered, his bow coming across jagged and letting out a screech that made goose bumps prickle on his skin. For a moment the blond stood there unmoving, shocked at the interruption to a point he didn't really know how to proceed. His guest, however, seemed undeterred.

"BAGMAN OPEN UP!" The voice called again and Jake finally recovered enough to put his violin down. He could sense the blush rising on his cheeks, the natural embarrassment of being caught, although he knew he had nothing to be ashamed of. He felt unsettled, not liking to ever be caught unaware, and Hangman couldn't help but curse himself for not ensuring that he truly was alone on base before he started playing. Hoping he could act it off as the radio, Jake put his violin back in its case carefully, but when he recognized Phoenix's knock for a third time, because of course it had to be the fiery female pilot that loved to give him shit on a good day that caught him, he jumped and slammed the case shut.

Striding over, Jake took one last second to wipe any remnants of the tears the music caused him away before swinging open the door. He schooled his mask in place and tried to look annoyed, hoping to throw Phoenix away quickly, but he was met with not only the dark haired woman but her WSO behind as well. The addition of Bob shouldn't have been surprising, they seemed to be attached at the hip these days, but it still made Jake's haunches rise, now seemingly caught by both of them.

They were all silent for a moment before Natasha gave a long suffering sigh, "finally" she drawled.

Jake narrowed his eyes, "What?" he questioned, his tone a touch too emotional to play off his normal Hangman persona, "What do you want?"

"I want" Natasha grumbled out in clear annoyance, "for you to lower that classical music crap you're blasting. We can hear it down the whole barrack."

In what should have been a relieving moment, since Phoenix wrongfully assumed Hangman was listening to classical music and not playing it, Jake couldn't help but scoff in an indignation he didn't quite understand. His temper flashed, "right" he sneered, his trademark cold smirk growing, "can't upset precious Phoenix, god forbid someone does something she doesn't like."

Her dark eyes flashed as her nostrils flared, "Rich coming from you, but I shouldn't be surprised that you would have no decency for any of the rest of us. Thinking you own the place like you always do."

"It was just music-"

"It was loud-"

"We were trying to catch up on some sleep" Bob stepped in, playing mediator to the two high tempered pilots, "been a little difficult since the bird strike." Phoenix immediately shot her back-seater a traitorous look, no doubt hating for the man to expose a weakness so easily to Hangman of all people. Jake, however, stepped back with a shaky nod, understanding more than anyone the debilitation of night terrors. "Fine" he spoke up, curt but not mean. "I'll keep it down."

Bob looked grateful, a smile rising on his lips, "thank you" he replied back and then when his partner stayed silent, he cleared his throat. He lifted an eyebrow towards Natasha and when the woman caught it she rolled her eyes, "thank you" she murmured, before turning away and moving to go back to her own room. Bob looked to follow before his eyes caught something left on Jake's bed. "Wait?" the bespectacled man spoke up questioningly and Jake followed his gaze to see the bow he had failed to put away in his haste, "is that yours?" Bob continued.

"Yeah?" Jake couldn't stop the defensiveness in his tone, "so what?"

"You were playing before?" Bob looked weirdly delighted, his excitement making Phoenix turn back around, "you weren't listening to music, you were playing it."

"Look Baby on Board-"

But Jake's words were cut off as Natasha stalked back over, "That wasn't Bagman" she explained with all the certainty in the world, "that was a recording." She turned to her partner, "like we said before Bob, it was like a professional."

Somehow such a off-handed compliment from Phoenix of all people made Jake's stomach flip and his cheeks reddened. He held back the urge to run a anxious hand along the back of his neck. When he looked up he saw Bob's knowing stare on him, "Violin?" the WSO asked softly, smiling when he saw Hangman's small nod in return, "it was beautiful."

"Hang on" Phoenix pushed back forward, now heading into Jake's room uninvited. "That couldn't have been you, you don't have a violin."

"I do actually" the blond moved back to his guitar case, "it's here." Somehow if he kept his eyes downcast, he could ignore the burning blush of embarrassment at exposing himself like this. When Hangman undid the buckles and showed the small string instrument to the duo in front of him, Bob gave a acknowledging hum but Phoenix's brow furrowed. "So you really play?" the shock was slowly leaving Nat's tone, replaced by a lift that made Jake worry. "Yeah" he nodded, green eyes watching as the woman kneeled down next to his instrument, "I do."

"Okay" her fingers ghosted over the strings carefully, "so play us something."

"Excuse me?"

"Play us something" she looked up at him, face challenging. "If it really was you" she goaded, "you should have no problem."

Hangman rolled his eyes at the dare, "I'm not some street monkey" he reasoned.

"Are you scared?" her dark eyes were bright with mirth as she took a seat on Jake's bed as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Jake would be lying if he said it didn't send his heart into a somersault at the sight. His feelings for Phoenix had always seemed to simmer within him, but time and angry barbs between them had cauterized Hangman's hopes of anything ever happening. To see her now, sitting in his room, waiting for him to expose such a hidden and beloved part of his soul, was preposterously frightening. "Come on" Phoenix urged, though her voice lost a lot of its edge and seemed more curious. "Your audience is waiting."

As Bob moved to take his desk chair, Jake picked up his bow and sighed, relaxing his shoulders to get into position. Jake knew he could play the piece he had been working on before but something about seeing Natasha sitting there in front of him, her right foot tapping against her left in her impatience, made him think of another song. He started the first few notes, the look of recognition crossing Phoenix's face as the popular sound of Frank Sinatra's 'My Way' filled the tiny room. Jake knew Natasha had grown up in California, but something about the East Coast crooner that was Sinatra and his mantra of 'My Way' always made the blond think of the fiery female pilot. Natasha Trace was a force to be reckon with on a good day, an immoveable stone on a bad. She was unforgiving in her quest to get what she wanted and yet her drive helped encourage everyone around her to want to be at her level. She was a brilliant pilot to watch and even better to fly with, and even though Hangman left her on that first day, he only did it because he knew she could handle herself up there in the skies. Her getting in the way of his shot was an unfortunate circumstance and though Jake could have easily defended his actions and explained the situation, he knew he would always be delegated to Phoenix's enemy rather than her friend. Hangman knew his place despite how much it killed him.

As the song came to a close, Jake finally opened his eyes to see the twin looks of awe on his teammates' faces. When he put down his bow, the blond pilot prepared for the teasing but Bob began with a round of applause that Natasha joined. "That was great" the bespectacled WSO announced, "really great."

"Thank you" Hangman turned to put his instrument back down, properly this time, avoiding Phoenix's look. The woman scooted to the edge of the bed however, to watch him, "he's right" she finally spoke up, "it was great."

Jake's cheeks flushed with barely hidden pride, "told you I could play" he countered, meeting her eyes.

She smirked, her expression playful, "guess it's par for the course for a rich kid like you. Must of had a whole bunch of hobbies to impress mommy and daddy."

Jake's face fell as he thought about his childhood. Yes his family was wealthy, but they were poor in everything else that mattered: love, affection, conversations, attention. He tried to hide his shudder when he thought of his Father's reaction to him choosing to study a girly instrument instead of spending more time with a pigskin. "Yeah" he finally gasped, his face pale from unease of the memories, "something like that."

Sensing she messed up, Phoenix leaned closer, allowing a hand to catch Jake's arm, "hey" she called, until she finally managed to get him to look at her again, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"It's fine." He closed the buckles on the guitar case and stood up from the floor. "Alright" he clapped his hands together, "concert is over now, you guys can go and get back to your naps or something."

Natasha sighed, "Bagman-"

"I said go" he nodded towards the door, "I don't think I need to show you the way."

Bob stood first, looking a little crestfallen, "well thanks" he murmured, heading out into the hallway. He didn't wait for Natasha, which was good as the short woman still hadn't moved from Jake's bed. Hangman crossed his arms defensively, "what Phoenix?" he shot out, his tone cold.

"Nothing" she shook her head before getting to her feet. She crossed the room and headed for the door, only stopping as her fingers gripped the door frame. As though debating with herself, Natasha waited a moment, then finally turned back around to look at Jake, "I guess we aren't always what we seem right?" she asked him, their eyes meeting.

"I guess not" he replied back, not exactly knowing what she meant but understanding enough to know that it went beyond the violin.

She nodded, "See you around Bagman" she called heading after Bob.

"Sweet dreams Phoenix" he whispered back, before shutting his door. He didn't go back to playing, honest in his hope that Phoenix and also Bob were able to catch up on sleep, but he felt he didn't exactly need to. The stress and uncertainty of what this mission would bring was still there but Jake felt lighter. He could only do what he could, could only prepare as best he could and have faith that the best possible outcome would unfold. He had to, because any alternative would break the blond beyond repair.

Also here is a link to the most beautiful cover of my way on a violin. I’m obsessed with it ❤️😊

youtube

#top gun maverick #glen powell #jake seresin #top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin #top gun #natasha phoenix trace #top gun fanfiction #hannix fic #hannix #Jake Seresin is a musician because Glen Powell is #Youtube

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francesminos-tt · 3 months

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Pride and Prejuice AU -5-

I apologize for the story's deviation from the original Jane Austen work.

“Write him a letter.” Joffrey said, placing down a clean parchment on the desk he shared with his brothers, “I am sure he’s dying to hear from you.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Lucerys replied as he kept ironing the embroidered handkerchiefs. He didn't even lift his eyes, so Joffrey couldn't tell what he was thinking.

“Come on, Luke. You know Uncle Aemond cares for you.” Joffrey walked to Lucerys and snatched the iron from the omega, “I’ll do it, and you go write the letter.”

“Why are you so sure that my letter will be anticipated?” Lucerys finally turned his eyes to Joffrey with a defeated sigh. He looked pale, or perhaps he had just stayed in the cottage for too long. It wasn’t uncommon for Lucerys to stay in for days, but Joffrey could tell this time was different. Lucerys had been distracted lately, making more mistakes in everyday chores than he had done all his life. He even mixed up the sizes of shoes he made for little Aegon and Viserys, leaving Aegon with a bright purple pair and Viserys a grey one. The toddlers didn't make much a fuss, probably because they also noticed something was wrong with their brother.

“Of course I am sure! Are you kidding? Uncle Aemond-” Joffrey rushed to say, but was silenced by Lucerys’s finger against his lips.

“Don’t.” Lucerys said, “I don't want to hear his name.”

Joffrey closed his mouth instinctively. He knew Lucerys well enough not to press the issue further. Luke was upset, but there was nothing Joffrey could do to make him feel better. He felt so helpless, not only because he could do nothing, but also because he could tell Uncle Aemond felt something for Lucerys. Joffrey might be slow in terms of picking up subtle signs of emotion, but he was not blind. The way Aemond looked at Lucerys could only be interpreted as deeply in love. Fortunes aside, the feeling between Aemond and Lucerys was genuine. Joffrey’s brother was not a gold digger, no matter how hard he pretended to be.

“He didn’t leave by his own will.” Joffrey tried after Lucerys went to fold the ironed handkerchiefs.

“And how do you know that?” Lucerys asked, flattening one of their mother’s fine handkerchiefs, “I thought you don’t like that side of our family.”

“Someone told me about it.” Joffrey chose to leave Gwayne out of it, “My source is legit, Luke. Trust me. I don’t want you to give up on something that is already within reach.”

“Is it Daeron?”

Joffrey was caught off guard by Lucerys’s sudden question. He thought he had hidden the thing with Daeron well. No one would or should know about Daeron’s confession of love to him. Joffrey wasn’t going to return Daeron’s affection then, and he wouldn’t now, not after he had learned that it was Daeron who convinced Aemond to go back to Dragonstone. If Daeron thought Joffrey’s brother was not a suitable match for his brother, why should Joffrey believe his confession? Joffrey was not much different from Lucerys, even inferior to Luke in so many ways. If Daeron looked down upon Lucerys, he surely looked down upon Joffrey as well.

“It is, isn’t it?” Lucerys seemed to have already known the answer, “Daeron told you about their departure.”

“No!” Joffrey might have raised his voice too much, but he couldn’t help it. He was never good at lying.

“It’s okay, Joff. I don’t blame you for not telling.” Lucerys ran his finger over the detailed embroideries on the handkerchief, “I think it’s actually a good thing that Aemond decided to leave before things went astray.”

“What do you mean by astray? There is definitely something going on between you. What’s so wrong of following your own heart?” Joffrey put the iron away and placed his hand over Lucerys’s surprisingly cold one, “Come on, Luke. Don’t give up that easily.”

“Do you think I want to give up?” Lucerys sighed and looked up, his soft brown eyes glistening with something Joffrey could not name, “I am not a coward. You know that, Joff.”

“Then why don’t you write a letter to Uncle Aemond? Just ask him when he will come back.” Joffrey asked, enveloping Lucerys’s hand with his own, trying to warm it up.

“I have my pride, Joffrey.” Lucerys replied softly, but firmly, “I will not be some pathetic lover who can’t pick up the signs. If Aemond wants to come back, he wouldn’t have left without notice in the first place. It’s his way of cutting off ties with me. I am not an ideal match for him, Joff. He handles the entire Targaryen fortune, and will most likely inherit it with Uncle Aegon’s absence, while I have no income of my own. I am not an appropriate choice.”

“Fuck social appropriateness.” Joffrey hissed, “I am fed up with that nonsense. Mother should be the handler of Targaryen fortune, not that Hightower snake.”

Lucerys chuckled at how Joffrey referred to Lady Alicent.

“I think Lady Alicent doesn’t like me and Aemond getting too intimate. She probably thinks I want to take the Targaryen inheritance back.” Lucerys shrugged, “She is not completely wrong. That was my initial plan, but it seems I am not very good at sticking to a plan after all.”

“If you do like Uncle Aemond, why don’t you just tell Mother? I am sure she will support you. She might even write to grandfather about this.” Joffrey didn’t know why he was so persistent about bringing Luke and Uncle Aemond together. He never liked his uncles. He never liked his grandfather who kept pretending they didn’t exist. He never gave a damn about Targaryen inheritance. So why was he so determined now?

Because of guilt, of course.

What if Daeron convinced his family to leave because Joffrey had rejected him? What if this was a revenge? What if Joffrey was the culprit of Lucerys’s suffering?

“I will not bother mother with this, and neither will you.” Lucerys squeezed Joffrey’s hand back, “Promise me you will not tell mother.”

“Luke-”

“Promise me, Joff.”

Joffrey had no choice but nod. Since he could not lift Lucerys’s pain, at lease he could listen to his brother. Joffrey still had confidence in Uncle Aemond though, hoping his one-eyed uncle could come to his senses soon.

Fortunately, Joffrey didn’t have to wait long for the situation to take an unexpected, but hopeful turn.

“Dragonstone?” Joffrey asked, looking from his mother to Lady Rhaenys.

“Yes.” Rhaenyra nodded, breaking a small piece off her biscuit, “Lady Rhaenys thinks it’s a great opportunity to broaden your horizons.”

“The social scene in Dragonstone is not as extravagant as here in King’s Landing, but this particular event has invited almost all the lords across the realm, including my husband and myself. I think I might bring some young companions with me.” Lady Rhaenys said, sipping her tea elegantly.

“Jace needs to sort out some estate issues for Mr. Stark, but you and Luke can go. You’ve never had the chance to see my father’s estate, have you? You might also pay your grandfather a visit.” Rhaenyra added.

“This event,” Joffrey asked, swallowing, “is it hosted by Lady Alicent?”

“Yes.” Lady Rhaenys nodded, “Her ladyship wants to celebrate her son’s betrothal.”

“Betrothal?” Joffrey felt his blood run cold at Lady Rhaenys’s words. Thank the Seven Lucerys was not here to hear this. Joffrey knew from Gwayne that the reason Lady Alicent and her sons left so hastily was that she planned to betroth her son Aemond to her Hightower niece. Was the betrothal finalized? Why would Uncle Aemond agree to this while he had Lucerys?

“There will be a lot of unmarried young alphas and omegas in that ball. I’ve been trying to convince your mother that her omega sons shouldn’t miss this opportunity.” Lady Rhaenys didn’t seem to notice Joffrey’s paling face, “You and Lucerys all have already come of age. It is time for you to strike a marriage deal.”

“Please, my lady, I am not selling my sons.” Rhaenyra interrupted, shaking her head before turning to Joffrey, “There is no pressure for you or Luke to find a husband anytime soon, Joff. I merely want to give you more opportunities to make your decision.”

“You can’t support them forever, Rhaenyra. They need to secure their future income by finding a suitable match.”

Lady Rhaenys had probably spent a lot of time convincing their mother to let them go to the ball with her, which, in other circumstances, Joffrey would thank the lady for her effort. Joffrey always wanted to see the world outside King’s Landing, even fantasizing about going on adventures across the Narrow Sea one day. His fantasy died the day he presented as an omega. Omegas could not make a living on their own. They had to depend on their alpha fathers, brothers and husbands to maintain their statues of living. Joffrey hated it, hated that he had to follow certain rules that were forced upon him. That was part of the reason why he had rejected Daeron’s proposal, because Joffrey didn’t want to become anyone’s dependent. However, since he knew of Lucerys’s feeling towards Uncle Aemond, Joffrey wasn’t so sure about the opportunity now.

“You are awfully quiet, Joff.” Rhaenyra observed, “Are you not willing to go? You don’t have to, of course, but you are always so excited about traveling.”

“I, uh, I will go, mother.” Joffrey swallowed, trying to keep a straight face, “But Luke has been feeling off lately, so I am not so sure he can stand the trip. I will ask him.”

“Is Lucerys ill?” Lady Rhaenys asked in concern. She never hid the fact that she liked Lucerys the most among Rhaenyra’s three omega sons.

“Just a little tired.” Joffrey replied, “Do not worry, Lady Rhaenys. I will get back to you as soon as possible. Can I go, mother?”

Rhaenyra nodded, though she seemed worried about Lucerys’s condition as well as Joffrey’s lack of excitement. What had happened to her sons that she did not know about?

Lucerys agreed to accompany Lady Rhaenys to Dragonstone in the end. Joffrey didn’t have the heart to tell him about the true purpose of the ball, but he suspected Lucerys had already guessed it. However, Lucerys still chose to go.

They boarded a carriage sent by Lady Rhaenys on a rainy morning. Their mother and Jace kissed them goodbye while their stepfather Daemon wished them good luck with his usual unimpressed face. To Joffrey’s surprise, they had an unexpected travel companion, Mr. Gwayne.

“How do you do, Joffrey?” Gwayne greeted the brothers in front of the carriage, “It is my honor to escort you and your brothers to Dragonstone.”

“Gwayne,” Joffrey blurted out before he could stop himself, “I mean, Mr. Gwayne. It is a pleasure to see you again. Forgive me for saying this, but I didn’t know you would be traveling with us.”

“Lady Rhaenys wants an alpha to escort you and her ladyship while traveling, and I am a suitable candidate. Her ladyship is kind enough to include me in your travel group.” Gwayne replied with a warm smile, “I will be sitting in front of the coach.”

“Oh.” Joffrey said lamely. Well, what did he expect? Gwayne riding with them in the coach? That would be very inappropriate indeed, even with Lady Rhaenys present.

“Good morning, Mr. Gwayne. It seems you and my brother have grown familiar with each other.” Lucerys chimed in, his arms linked tightly with Joffrey’s, “Thank you for escorting us.”

“It is my pleasure.” Gwayne bowed politely to Lucerys, “Please get in. If we set out now, we can make it to the harbor by noon.”

The trip to Dragonstone wasn’t a long one, but it included sailing across the Blackwater Bay. Lady Rhaenys and her lord husband, Lord Corlys, had arranged a ship for them. The ship belonged to Lord Corlys’s trade fleet, a sturdy and comfortable vessel. The sail was only half a day, so if the wind allowed, they would make it to Dragonstone by evening. Joffrey was exhilarated to abroad a ship, forgetting about the dread of seeing his uncles again for a moment, but the same could not be said about Lucerys. Lucerys got seasick even before the ship left the harbor. Joffrey kept rubbing his brother’s back the entire journey, but it didn’t stop Lucerys’s vomiting. By the time the ship docked in the Dragonstone harbor, Lucerys had already emptied his stomach, as well as his bile.

“Can you stand, Luke?” Joffrey asked, wiping the bile and saliva from Lucerys’s lips, “We shouldn’t have come. It’s a mistake.”

“No need to make a fuss.” Lucerys said softly, his eyes hidden behind sweat-soaked curls, “You couldn’t have predicted this. I couldn’t, either.”

Joffrey brushed the damp curls from Lucerys’s face and helped his brother up. Lucerys’s scent smelled bitter and pungent, reflecting the omega’s distress, which made Joffrey worry that his brother could not face another unpleasant surprise. He should have stopped Luke. He should have made Luke stay at home, instead of coming to Dragonstone, only to find his lover betrothed to another.

“I will ask Lady Rhaenys to get you a maester. Perhaps some relaxing potion can help.” Joffrey suggested. He helped Lucerys freshen up and handed his brother a glass of water to rinse his mouth.

“No. There is no need. I already feel a lot better now.” Lucerys said stubbornly. Joffrey was normally the stubborn one, so he hadn’t realized how annoying a stubborn omega could be until now.

“But Luke-”

“No buts.” Lucerys insisted. He cleared his throat and smoothed his dress before turning to the door, “Let’s go, Joff. We shouldn’t keep Lady Rhaenys and Lord Corlys waiting.”

Lady Alicent didn’t send anyone to receive them, even though Lady Rhaenys had already informed her of her step grandsons’ arrival. Joffrey should feel insulted, but in fact, he couldn’t be more grateful for Lady Alicent’s purposeful neglect.

“I am terribly sorry, Joffrey.” Gwayne said, “My sister must be preoccupied with preparation of the ball. Allow me to apologize on her behalf.”

“You are very kind, sir, but you don’t have to.” Joffrey replied with a strained smile, “My brother is not fit to meet them anyway.”

“I myself is never one for social norms, either!” Lord Corlys claimed with a hearty laugh, “Come on, lads. Let’s go to the inn. I think a bowl of hot soup will calm poor Lucerys’s stomach.”

Like his wife, Lord Corlys held a special affection for Lucerys. Lucerys was too weak to express his gratitude other than offering a grateful smile to the good lord with pursed lips, for fear that he might start vomiting again if he opened his mouth now.

Gwayne wanted to say more, but Lady Rhaenys dragged the omegas away before he could say anything. Joffrey’s mind was occupied by Lucerys, so he didn’t notice Gwayne slipping away until they arrived at the inn. The Inn was spacious and comfortable, much more extravagant than the inns in the King’s Landing market that Joffrey was familiar with. Lucerys looked much better after warming up and changing into a new set of evening dress. The dinner was simple but hearty, with hot soup, some cured meat, toast and pudding. Lucerys only had a bowl of soup and a small piece of bread, and managed to keep them down.

The omega brothers retried to their shared room without having coffee. Joffrey tucked Lucerys in after braiding his brother’s hair into small braids to keep them curly and fluffy in the morning.

“I wonder what Aemond is doing.” Lucerys murmured, staring at the carved ceiling.

Joffrey was surprised to hear Lucerys mention Uncle Aemond. In fact, this was probably the first time Lucerys brought Aemond up after their one-eyed uncle left.

“Sleeping, probably. It’s late.” Joffrey replied, trying very hard to get rid of the image in his head of Uncle Aemond entertaining his betrothed.

“Maybe.” Lucerys said, more to himself than to Joffrey, “What do you think he will say when he meets me? I mean, us.”

“I think he should explain why he left without notice.” Joffrey was determined to teach his one-eyed uncle a lesson if Aemond really betrothed himself to some random Hightower lady instead of Lucerys. He should at least have the decency to tell Luke the truth, instead of just disappearing like a coward. Joffrey would not let Uncle Aemond break Luke’s heart like that. His brother deserved truth and honesty. Joffrey would make sure Lucerys got them.

“Sorry I asked.” Lucerys let out a soft sigh, “I wasn’t thinking straight. Must be the seasickness.”

“Go to sleep, Luke.” Joffrey kissed his brother’s forehead, “You will feel better in the morning.”

“Thank you, Joff.” Lucerys murmured, unable to keep his eyes open anymore.

Joffrey stayed with Lucerys until his brother entered a deep slumber. Joffrey, however, could not sleep. He was anxious to meet Lady Alicent, Uncle Aemond, grandfather Viserys, and Daeron. He didn’t know what to say to Daeron after rejecting the alpha’s proposal in that way. What would Daeron think, if he found Joffrey here, looking for a possible suitor, after rejecting a good one like himself? He must think Joffrey was some kind of shameless gold digger, always looking for the biggest fortune possible.

Stop thinking about him. Joffrey scolded himself silently. What Daeron thought of him should be none of his concern. Joffrey didn’t need Daeron’s approval to do anything. He could dance with all the alphas he wanted and that would not be Daeron’s business. Besides, he wasn’t planning to find a husband anyway. He only agreed to the journey for Lucerys. Joffrey was a lost cause, not Lucerys wasn’t. If Uncle Aemond dared to hurt Luke, Joffrey would make sure his one-eyed prince wouldn’t leave unscared.

It had already passed midnight, but sleep still refused to visit. Joffrey sighed in defeat as he threw on a night gown and left the room quietly. It was not appropriate for an unmated omega to roam a public Inn so late at night, but Joffrey never cared about such social norms. He went down to the courtyard, deciding to get some fresh air to calm his mind. This Inn was large establishment that not only accommodate travelers like Joffrey, but also locals who enjoyed a good drink. There was a tavern across the courtyard, still bustling at this late hour.

Joffrey was so immersed in his own thoughts that he failed to notice the familiar figure in the courtyard.

“Joffrey? What a pleasant surprise!” Someone called his name, drawing Joffrey’s attention.

“G-Gwayne?” Joffrey’s eyes widened in surprise at the sight of the alpha, “What are you doing here?”

Gwayne strode to him, the alpha’s fresh scent infused with the sweetness of wine. Gwayne clearly had too much to drink, his perfect hair now messy and disheveled, his bowtie gone and the top button of his shirt undone, revealing his sweat-covered neck. His face was a bit flushed, his eyes shinning with something Joffrey could not read, and his lips were stained red by the wine.

“Forgive my appearance.” Gwayne said, wiping his hand on his wrinkled pants before offering it to Joffrey, “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Likewise.” Joffrey replied, reaching his hand out.

He was going to shake the alpha’s hand, but Gwayne grabbed his outstretched hand and flipped it over before planning a small kiss on its back. Joffrey was too shocked to shake him off. By the time he realized what had happened, Gwayne had already left a lip-shaped wet patch on his skin.

“It is nice to meet you here, Joffrey. We haven’t had much chance to talk during our journey here.” Gwayne said, holding Joffrey’s hand for a second too long before letting it go. He seemed pleased with himself; his usual politeness replaced by something more intruding.

“I am terribly sorry.” Joffrey’s cheeks were burning up for no reason, but he managed to keep his voice from shaking, “It seems my brother isn’t very accustomed to traveling by sea.”

“No need to apologize,” Gwayne smiled, taking a step forward, “We can talk now, can’t we?”

Joffrey felt a prickling sensation on the back of his neck, his chest tightening as if an invisible hand was grasping his heart. The smell of wine and Gwayne’s heavy alpha scent made the air so thick that Joffrey found it hard to breathe.

“I-I-I suppose.” Joffrey murmured, his breathing quickening. Blood rushed to his limbs, his heart racing so fast as if it was going to jump out of his mouth. He felt like a prey in front of a predator, desperate to run but unable to even lift a finger.

“I am so glad you can come. Have you been to Dragonstone before? I’ve heard that the Targaryens have multiple estates around here other than the Mansion. I am sure your grandfather must have told you a lot about this.” Gwayne placed his hand on Joffrey’s back and rubbed gently, “Are you quite all right, Joffrey? You look a bit flushed.”

Joffrey had felt like this before, in the ball where he first met Gwayne. They were dancing, and Joffrey suddenly felt hard to breathe as the alpha’s pheromones dominated him. How did he get out of this situation last time?

Right. He remembered. Someone helped him. Daeron helped him. Joffrey heard the sound of a door opening followed by a familiar voice that he had never expected to hear here.

“What are you doing, uncle?”

Daeron appeared from the bar as well, also reek of wine and disheveled. However, his pheromones were not as strong as Gwayne’s, the unique combination of incense and burned wood felt like a safe haven for Joffrey.

Gwayne threw his youngest nephew a nasty glare, but he quickly put on his usual pleasant face. The expression was so fleeting that Joffrey wondered if he had imagined it.

“Having a conversation with Joffrey, of course.” Gwayne replied, his hand resting on the small of Joffrey’s back. Joffrey had trouble standing straight, so he was practically leaning against Gwayne now.

“With your hand roaming over him?” Daeron asked, his frown deepening. He clearly didn’t believe a word his fellow alpha had just said.

Gwayne didn’t answer, and Joffrey couldn’t. He was too surprised to speak. Why was Daeron here? Was he drinking with Gwayne? How could he just reappear in front of Joffrey as if nothing had happened? Did he know how often he had occupied Joffrey’s mind?

“Leave him alone.” Daeron said, his violet eyes landing on Joffrey worriedly.

“Mind your own business.” Gwayne retorted.

Daeron pursed his lips together, but said nothing. He didn’t take Joffrey from Gwayne like he had done in the ball before, his arms hanging from his side and his hands clenching, as if he was holding back something.

“Why don’t you go back? I am sure you don’t want to keep your betrothed waiting.” Gwayne spoke, his lips curling up into a mocking smile.

Betrothed? Who?

Daeron was clearly shaken by Gwayne’s words, but before he could answer, another figure appeared from the bar and walked to stand side by side with Daeron.

“I was wondering where you went.” A young female omega smiled sweetly at Daeron as she placed her elegant hand on the alpha’s elbow, “What are you talking about with uncle Gwayne, dear?”

“Well, Daeron was just asking me about your time in Old Town, dear Bethany.” Gwayne replied before Daeron could, his arm tightening around Joffrey.

“Really?” Bethany Hightower blushed, “I hope you didn’t anything bad about me.”

“Only good things, I promise.” Gwayne smiled, “Now, I will leave you love birds to it. Let me escort you back, Joffrey. You seem like you can use some sleep.”

Joffrey could do nothing but let himself be dragged away by Gwayne. He was still under the influence of Gwayne’s pheromones, but even if he wasn’t, he would be too shocked to act anyway.

Joffrey felt like a fool. He had been worried about Luke all this time, but in fact, he should worry about himself. Uncle Aemond was not the one who broke his oath. Daeron was. But who was Joffrey to accuse Daeron of oath-breaking? It was him who had rejected the alpha, so why did he think Daeron wouldn’t move on?

Fool.

#house of the dragon #hotd #joffron #joffrey velaryon #daeron x joffrey #daeron the daring #abo dynamics #lucemond #aemond x lucerys

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relianascara · 8 months

Text

A certain delicacy

Author note before you read:

This is bad and I'm not even kidding, alsoy first time writing to publish it. So very sorry if it's wonky or have many grammar issues, english is not my mother language.

Albedo x reader

Fluff

Synopsis: what if the prince of chalk himself is treating you, a long known friend of his. To a meal after he found you almost getting frozen near his lab in dragonspine. Only to realize, the prince of chalk himself have quite a unique dish he like to offer along with a new information that he can tease you in a name of experiment

Tags: @i23kazu

You could have sworn it moved, it could very much still be alive at this point. With a frown, you poke the dish with a fork. Picking apart each and every leg to see where you even start to eat.

“You know, it's not good to play with your food.” Albedo spoke, just entering his lab in dragonspine. his ashen golden hair seems perfectly fine despite what it has gone through in this forsaken cold mountain.

“I'm not playing…per say,” you retorted while thinking of a good word to put in. “Just, trying to see where to begin” is all you could say as an excuse, looking at the male his expression didn't even change one bit from his usual one. He hums.

“If you're uncomfortable with how it looks, perhaps taking the head first would be a good start “ he suggests. “How about, no.” You were quick to reject his suggestions, albedo shrugs as he begins tidying up his lab. Looking back at the food, you mentally curse yourself for losing all of your food supply after fighting two fatui agents, to think that they would retreat while also stealing your bag is ridiculous… or you could say smart enough.

It's a good thing The alchemist was just coming up the mountain, only to see your pitiful existence, cold, hungry, and with a few small injuries, he is kind enough to offer shelter and food at his lab. is what you've thought to be a blessing, before he offer you smoke spider as a meal. Taking one final breath you stab one of its legs before putting it in front of you, a disgusted feeling tries to surface on your face, before you fight back and barely manage to keep your expression still…barely.

‘it's alright, just for once. Just for once’ you assure yourself, Albedo have been kind enough to carry you to warmth, it will be rude for you to complain about the food now.

It's alright. maybe, the taste ... .would be rather ... .unique. A soft chuckle could be heard near you, only to come from Albedo himself. “That was a good expression you have, to think you would considering to eat it. I guess I was wrong about the other possibilities that you would outright refuse” he said in a light manner.

“Hey….” You said in a down voice, “you were playing with me??” You ask with disbelief, feeling defeated that you didn't see it coming. He smiled back before shaking his head, arm across his chest. “well…not particularly. I was just seeing if you would refuse to eat it. like how others did when I offered that dish to them. You could say, it was a little experiment “

You pouted while looking at him, putting the fork down and leaving the dish alone. “I've never consented to this experiment in any way, Albedo.” You pouted at him for doing such a thing.

Albedo agreed, “that's true, so I apologize. I would just think you would refuse to eat it like the others. I'm sorry, for making you feel pressured to eat it.” he said before taking the plate away and replacing it with another one. This time it is a genuine dish made from fish meat along with vegetables.

You were silent for a moment before turning to albedo confused, “I thought you said you don't have any other food aside from ... .that” you point to the plate his holding, “true” he answered, “well, I couldn't have you stay hungry, so I've been searching a few camp spot to see if there's other ingredients to cook.”

‘oh, so that's why he hurriedly left after he made sure I stayed warm’ you thought, a smile creeping to your face before finally letting go of your pouty face. “I guess I could forgive you for that, only if this dish doesn't have mysterious ingredients in them” you joke. How could you be mad for so long with your friend?.

He chuckled before reassuring you that he in fact didn't have anything mystery ingredients put in your dish.

#𓆪Reliana post #𓆩Reliana plays ebg #albedo x reader #albedo x you #genshin impact x reader #genshinblr january ebg 2024

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seaghosst · 4 months

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seaghosst hi! bit corny of an ask here so totally find if u don't respond i'm also not used to sending these so if this is weird all the apologies but like

how does one cope with a show they love so desperately likely not ever getting picked up again? talking about rise if you couldn't guess. like i feel a teensy bit delusional about it at this point, but anytime i think about the fact that it's ended i get this sinking feeling like i'm gonna throw up and then can't think about anything else (indefinitely). been posting the change.org petition everywhere like it's gonna change something/hj. youre obviously not a professional don't wanna dump this on you, but as a rise fan that I knows been a fan as long as me, does this also happen to you? is there anything you've done that helps? if i'm just crazy also totally makes sense, thank you for your time

- 3 year long rottmnt obsession

i’ve actually only been a rise fan since like… november 2023 ? but i will try my best 2 answer :]

i do get upset that it’s not continuing because i love the show and see so much potential in it that doesn’t get used. i love the characters and wish that we got to see more of them like in previous iterations :(

i guess the way i deal with it is engaging in fandom? i’ve always really loved being in fandoms and engaging in canon but with rise there’s an abundance of aus relating to it, so if i want to see more of the characters i usually look through those :) i’m sure there are some that are continuations that imagine what a 3rd season of rise would be

i also like creating fanon things so i like to imagine/draw things i would want to see in the show but never happened (example being my four swords au, i would’ve loved some kind of usagi crossover but that didn’t happen so i’m taking matters into my own hands)

i know that’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but that’s how i deal w it :}

i guess another way would be watching other tmnt iterations? it’s not the same as rise but i still love other versions of the same characters so that kind of helps

if it is giving you genuine negative emotions, i’d reccomend looking into coping mechanisms that can help you deal w those, i’m even less qualified on that though

there is a comic coming out based on the bad future timeline, so there is new rise content coming out kinda? idk if this helps but i wish you the best ^^

#creating art helps me deal w missing a show tbh #anyway

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phoenixcatch7 · 4 months

Text

Had a very strange encounter this morning. Knock on the door from a family of four, very Victorian boarding school crossed with 40s housewife, youngish boys looking like they'd rather be anywhere else but there but resigned. All overdressed for the heat.

The father immediately starts talking about society.

For some context, I had been up till 1am moving boxes in my parents attic, which had barely any floor reinforced enough to put weight on and nowhere high enough to properly even sit upright, not to mention all the exposed fiberglass. I hadn't eaten breakfast yet, in fact I hadn't eaten or drank in nearly fifteen hours. I had had a sort of plan for if I was ever in the sort of situation I was suddenly flung into now, but before breakfast is not a time I can use braincells.

So he starts on with some opening spiel I'm genuinely not registering, and out pops the inevitable question.

'Do you think our society now is good or bad? With everything going on, Palestine...'

Now this is a question I know the answer to, I think excitedly! My lone dreg of grey matter is very pleased to be able to contribute to the conversation.

I say, 'Good'. Just one word.

And it completely shuts him down. Him and his wife are taken aback. They don't have a conversation tree for this, that they can push against, commiserate with. They look expectant, they wait for me to elaborate, to say 'well there's some horrific stuff happening, but -' that they can restart the conversation with. Not a single thought passes through my mind.

He tries again, fiddling with his leaflet. 'Well, what do you think is going to happen in the future, with all these awful things going on around us, do you think the people in charge are going to agree -'

And I interrupt him, because that is an awfully long sentence to process when part of my liquified grey matter is finally starting to ring cult, I say 'human rights'.

They look at me in total silence. In the background the toaster pops with a rattle and immediately starts drying out. I am unblinking.

'You think human rights are getting better,' the man says, in the tone of someone who's never put those words in a sentence together before. I look to his wife for a cue, and when she doesn't give it, his kids. They're not looking at me, but they don't seem to really care, either.

'I do,' I say, uncertain but unwilling to give them an inch. My internal script, having finished its if statement, returns null and puts its hands up.

I want my toast. There is a long, long silence as we all seem to grasp that I've set the conversation tree on fire.

Finally, the man presses restart on the entire thing and picks up from where I should have agreed that the world was bad and miserable. He stutters. He glances away. He shifts and restarts his sentence, his paragraph. I am genuinely not processing a single word, and I don't think I blinked then either. I catch a mumbled 'jehovahs witnesses' which is great, because I couldn't decide between that and mormonism. My brain wasn't enough to tell me what it was but it was a similar word.

The dog sprints past. Everyone jumps out of their skin. In the second it takes to step out enough to scruff her, running unexpected animal apology script, the door slams behind me in a sudden wind, loudly enough to make the mother shriek. I have enough brainpower to envision the next ten minutes before I realise with relief the door remained unlocked (it rarely does). I return to Greeting Stranger Position. The dog is banished.

'I'm so sorry,' I say. My toast is definitely stale, and it was the last in the loaf. Not even a crust remains.

The man fumbles. Most of my attention is on the lady, at this point, expecting some polite commiseration, or just some sort of Situation Deescalation noise. I'd take a clearing of the throat at this point, because there's two adults at my door and only one has talked. Neither have checked on their kids once. She stares my doorbell in the ding button. The man continues like this is going anywhere. I can't parse it into words.

Finally, he hands me the leaflet, points out the phone number and a casual 'if you ever feel alone or if you want to call-'. It's not an area code I recognise, but I'm also fairly sure I wasn't processing the written word at this point either.

They make noises of starting to go, and my brain perks up again - script! - and enthusiastically hammers the 'farewell visitors (standard)' button. I spring to life like a freshly animated corpse, a spark in my eyes as I commiserate about the heat and wish them good things for the rest of the day.

Normally the people I talk to respond in kind automatically, but the woman only sort of dips her head when I talk about how nice the unexpected sun is and to be careful not to overheat (a very common farewell this far north in sunny weather lmao). The kids don't know how to react to being addressed (you take care!) and the man keeps unconsciously trying to make eye contact, talking a steady stream of noise in the full assumption that I'm talking solely to him, which is not part of my script - genuinely something I've never encountered before - and thus I don't adapt at all. I admit, I'm used to the mother being in charge in local family units, or at least equal with the man. They turn away - I close the door - the man spins around and finally seems to realise he received a quarter of the farewells and is expecting the closed conversation to shift back to him.

I'm shaking from hunger.

My toast is indeed stale.

I don't know. It surprises me, post meal, that people who gather into these super restricting 'we will give you salvation' outsiders excluded cultish groups are so shocked at the idea of genuine faith in the world. It's what they're hawking. They knock on the door of a stranger who thinks people are generally good, actually, no notes, and that scares them. But well, I suppose that's the point, isn't it? They can't believe that or they'd leave.

Though I suppose my unblinking stare didn't help. I wish I could have been in a state for a smoother interaction, but it is what it is. Nobody got hurt, but I hope the kids get out safe. The whole family was in deep.

#Anybody with better experience please tell me what was going on there lol #The leaflet is long binned and my toast got reheated enough to melt butter so 👍 all around a good morning.#I didn't even know there was a chapter in my area we just don't get people like that. But they might have travelled out.#cult #social issues #Only sharing this because of how shaken a single word made them and it's sticking to me oddly.#They were just so... Out of sync. I hope they find happiness because that wasn't it.

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acacia-may · 2 years

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Happy birthday in advance 💚💙! For your little event, can I ask 💝 for Fuegoleon, 💌 for Noelle, 🎈 for Nozel and 🎉 for Vanessa, please?

Hello! Thank you so much for the birthday wishes and for your patience! I apologize that it has taken me so long to answer your headcanons ask, but I hope you will still like these! 😊

Headcanons below the cut! Questions from the Birthday Headcanons Ask Game

Fuegoleon Vermillion

💝 — What sort of presents do they most like to give to their loved ones for their birthdays? How much thought do they put into their gifts?

Fuegoleon is a very thoughtful gift giver and always puts a lot of thought into his presents. Though he is royalty and can certainly afford lavish presents for his loved ones, he would prefer to find something that will be meaningful to them rather than just expensive. As he is a very detail oriented person, he will often pick up on and pay attention to the little things that his loved ones like or show interest in, and he tries to choose gifts based on that (which will often come as a surprise to the recipient, garnering excited "how did you know?" reactions). Fuegoleon also tends to choose practical gifts over simply decorative ones when he can and prefers to give gifts that will last and that the recipient will get a lot of use out of. (For instance, he often gives books as gifts).

Noelle Silva

💌 — How much do they generally write in birthday cards? Is it usually a fairly generic message or personalized? Something short but heartfelt or something very lengthy and detailed?

Noelle wants to write thoughtful messages in birthday cards, but she struggles when it comes to expressing her feelings and how much someone means to her in words. She has been known to rewrite her birthday cards multiple times trying to craft the perfect, heartfelt message for her loved one, often getting frustrated when she stumbles over her words and crumpling up the card and starting over. In the end, her determination tends to win out, and though she'll probably never be the type to write a long, detailed expression of how much she cares in a card, she will write something personal and definitely more heartfelt than what she could/would say if she was just talking to her loved ones (perhaps something along the lines of "Happy Birthday. You are such an inspiration to me, and I am so blessed to have you as my friend."). Her birthday wishes to the ones closest to her are a bit short, but they are very heartfelt and genuine.

Nozel Silva

🎈— What’s one of their fondest and/or best birthday memories?

One of Nozel's fondest birthday memories was from one of the earliest birthdays he can remember. His mother, Acier, was always a bit more down-to-earth and free-spirited than the rest of the Clover Kingdom royalty and (perhaps a bit scandalously) wanted to try to bake a birthday cake for her son herself. It didn't turn out as well as some of his more lavish, professionally baked and decorated birthday cakes, but it meant so much to Nozel that his mother had taken the time to make that for him (even though she really didn't have to). To this day, he looks back on this as one of the most treasured memories he got to share with his mother, and though (of course) he couldn't keep the cake itself, he does still have the candles his mother had gotten for it. If he has children of his own one day, one of his secret dreams (even if it is a bit undignified) is to one day try to bake them a birthday cake himself, just like his mother had done for him, and use the same candles. He doubts any cake he could make could turn out nearly as well as his mother's had, however. 💕

Vanessa Enoteca

🎉 — Do they like surprise parties? Would they want one and/or would they throw one for someone else?

Vanessa absolutely loves surprise parties and surprises in general! She would love one but would likely be very difficult to surprise since she is so naturally intuitive (and a lot of her friends are terrible liars). The Black Bulls would probably have to send her away on a mission, plan the party while she was gone, then host the party immediately when she returned in order to manage to actually surprise her. Even if she caught onto their plans, she would do her best to pretend to be surprised for their sake and would definitely be incredibly touched that her loved ones tried to surprise her.

Vanessa would also adore getting to throw a surprise party for someone else. (This might even be more fun for her than actually being the surprise party recipient). She has lots of fun ideas for parties and can actually be fairly organized when she wants to be, so any surprise party she put together would likely be a blast! She can also actually keep a secret so her friend would absolutely be surprised! 😁

(A/N: My personal headcanon is that Vanessa's first ever birthday party was a (chaotic and disorganized but well-meaning and sweet) surprise party Yami, Finral, and Gordon (with a little help from Henry) threw together for her for her first birthday with the Black Bulls. I actually wrote about it here, as part of my Early Black Bulls series, so I might be a little bit biased, but, yes, I absolutely adore the idea of Vanessa loving surprise parties🥰).

#fuegoleon vermillion #vanessa enoteca #noelle silva #nozel silva #black clover headcanons #birthday headcanons game 🥳#thank you so much for the ask and for the birthday wishes!#thank you also for your patience--i apologize that it took so long for me to answer these #i hope you like this 💖#just a little fan

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mirioho · 1 month

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what made you interested in pursuing art more seriously or more intentionally? hope you are having a good day. i love your art and tumblr page design! you're very talented :)

Hellooooo anon, first of all, thank you very much for sending this in. And second, I am very sorry I did not answer this sooner. I think you sent this a year or so ago so you have my sincerest apologies 🙃 idek if you're still following me but

(long winded answer below)

(Skip ahead to paragraph below heart emojis if you don't wanna read my art journey and rant and just get to the actual answer to the question)

I did not intentionally maliciously ignore your ask. Rather, I kept it around because, ironically enough around the time you sent this ask is when I just...stopped doing art for a long while. I was, for a lack of a better word, very depressed, and I was incredibly unmotivated and I hated everything I drew and I disliked even the act of drawing itself.

Whether it was traditional or digital, a study, a sketch, a proper art piece, experimentation, I didn't like any of it anymore. Which was disheartening because art had always been one of my only creative and sometimes emotional outlets. It was a passion. It was My Thing, so to speak, I guess.

I wasn't doing great mentally but it didn't help that I had been comparing myself to various artists online. It felt like no matter what I did I just wasn't happy with what I was doing. And it felt like even if I tried I wouldn't be able to reach the heights others seem to a lot more easily (especially if I saw that they were younger or had less time doing art than I did). I couldn't help but think everything that I did was wrong.

Or worse, not enough.

Good, but not good enough.

Great, but not enough.

Amazing, but not enough.

That's not to say people did not like my art. They did. But I didn't like it.

I didn't pick up my personal sketchbook for a long while. Even when I had deleted most social medias off my phone, I still couldn't bring myself to draw. It felt like a chore.

But sometimes I'd log into Tumblr on my mobile browser. Just to see this ask. I kept coming back to it. To be honest it's the first real ask I've ever gotten complimenting my art like this. And it felt sad to have received it when I'd pretty much decided to quit art.

But I still didn't delete it. I kept the ask even though I thought once in awhile I should reply with a "thanks but I don't do art anymore sorry" or something a bit more witty. Idk. But I'm not witty. But I am apparently very sentimental considering I've kept this ask as what I now think was hopes of someday coming back to answer it properly if I ever got out of the rutt I felt I was stuck in forever.

And I did get out.

Comparison is one of the worst things an artist can do to themselves. In comparing, i set unrealistic expectations for myself and my art. And in doing so I nearly lost the one thing that I think genuinely makes me happy. (I'm not even kidding like I couldn't even do a silly doodle without hating it) I personally think it's great to have big goals and big dreams with your own art. But to expect yourself to reach those things right off the bat or in a shorter time frame than is realistic is just going to put pressure on your shoulders that will inevitably make doing art feel like a burden since it feels like you're working so hard and not seeing any results. But it's because the results you're expecting aren't things that happen so easily with everyone.

There's also the fact that in setting these unrealistic expectations and comparisons, I began to dislike my art because I wasn't doing it for myself. Not really anyways. I was doing it for my expectations. But not for my enjoyment. I could only enjoy it if I met my expectations. But I never did (since they were so high and not reasonable) and so I stopped feeling the satisfaction and joy that comes with creating.

So, obviously in the time I was away I had to focus on 1. Being more realistic in my expectations and 2. Having fun. These seem very obvious things for any artist to do or remember but I needed the reminder apparently. And I try to keep that in mind everytime I do art now. I try not to be too harsh on myself and just enjoy the process. Because the process of creating is very nice and I missed it quite a lot. I missed getting an idea, sketching it out and slowly but surely bringing that idea to life. Even if it's just a silly fanart. It makes me happy to see it because after so long not creating a thing and hating it all, it's like welcoming back a dear friend. And that friend is me and my art.

💚💖💚

All this to say, I decided to pursue art more seriously and intentionally because I like it. I like the process of creating. I like the end results. Art is something I've always done and it's something I hope to always do in the future. It's not my job. But it's a hobby I pursue with intention because it feels good to share my art and it feels good to have it be appreciated and it feels even more fantastic to actually have someone like it so much they want to buy it (shout out to that person who earned me 25 cents on my first Redbubble sale. I actually cried). It's satisfying and validating, I, of course, won't let myself get swept up in the validation from others anymore. But I pursue it with purpose because art was never just some little thing for me. And hopefully it never will be.

But thank you again anon for your ask, I am very sorry I gave you unnecessary art journey details and rants in this answer but I hope you know your words were very helpful and if I'm being honest very motivating. To think at least one person liked my art enough to say it in ask form was something that made me feel better every now and then.

#jaz talks #a lot btw #anon ask #asks #jaz answers #dunno if anyone will read all this but i had to get it out #might delete if i feel embarrassed in the morning though haha #hopefully any of this is coherent

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shades-of-sapphire · 5 months

Text

Maybe in another life

He spotted the two figures occupying the table by the window right away. As he made his way forward, he saw that his roommate was slumped half-leaning on his fiancée – whose focus was entirely on her laptop, nose adorably scrunched in concentration.

She looked up and smiled when he arrived at their table, making his heart jump in its usual gymnastics whenever she smiled at him. She shut her laptop closed. "Hello. Long drive here?"

"Not at all, came from a meeting that was conveniently close," he said as he sat down right across her, only because the other chair that was across his roommate was occupied with their belongings. He nodded at the man deep in slumber, still dressed in his scrub. "Is he okay?"

"Out cold in an instant." She grimaced apologetically. "My bad, though. Strong-armed him into watching a movie here, which of course bored the hell out of him."

"That's okay. He needs the sleep."

With a sigh, her hand reach out to her fiancee's hair, absentmindedly giving it an affectionate ruffle. "Yeah. Between the residency and the wedding preparations, he really does." She turned to him, and he couldn't help but realize that she had makeup on – not that she usually didn't, only this time it seemed more... excessive and professional. She must had caught his odd stare because she said, "Pardon the face, had an appointment with the makeup artist earlier."

"Looks good on you," he said genuinely. He meant it with his whole heart.

Her smile cracked slow and – careful? "Thanks. The man mentioned something about returning your portable charger?"

He suddenly remembered why he came here crashing the lovebirds' hard-earned quality time in the first place. "Yes, he said to come get it here."

"Should be in his bag right there," she nodded to the chair next to him. "Help yourself out."

He did, spending a few minutes rummaging through his roommate's backpack to find said charger. Among his resident essentials, he found one curious bottle of inhaler. He was just about to ask the fiancée about it because throughout tens of years of their friendship he didn't have any memory of his roommate ever needing an inhaler, before the answer struck him all of a sudden in the form of a flash memory.

"It's about time you tell me if you're at risk of having an asthma attack, you know."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

He held out the inhaler he found in the kitchen counter towards his roommate. "What's this?"

His roommate let out a chuckle. "That's not mine, it's the girlfriend's. She has asthma, so I'd like to be prepared in case something bad happened when she comes over."

So his roommate kept one in his bag too, he idly thought. How thoughtful.

He would probably do the same himself.

"Did you find it?"

He nearly jumped at her question, quickly shoving back the inhaler to its designated compartment on the inside of the bag. "Yeah, it's here. Thanks."

She smiled at him, though it had the same odd, faint sense of carefulness from earlier. "Where are you going after this?"

"Home, I think. It's been a day."

"Do you mind if we talk for a bit before you leave? I want to ask you something."

His interest picked, he leaned to the back of his chair, settling in. "Sure. Go ahead."

She tried to shift before seemingly remembered that she was supporting nearly the entire weight of her sleeping fiancee, so she forced herself to stay still and worried her lower lip instead. A clear sign of nervousness, which was something he never saw on her before because she always seemed so laid back and confident.

"Take your time," he encouraged as she seemed to be struggling to get her words out.

"Alright. I'm just gonna be blunt here, so I apologize in advance."

He bit back a smile. "Sounds super serious."

A short pause, before she let out a rushed: "Do-you-by-any-chance-perhaps-ever-have-some-sort-of-feelings-for-me?"

Took some effort but he managed to get the entire sentence, and it wiped the amusement entirely off his face. He felt rather than saw himself whiten in shock. After what felt like an eternity, he finally croaked, "Where did that come from?"

She threw a quick glance at her fiancee. "Him, actually. He noticed that you're becoming a little awkward around me, and suspected that you might... feel something?" The sentence went up towards the end, making it sound more like a question rather than a statement. She grimaced. "Sorry, that didn't sound right at all."

"No," he said quickly. He pondered his options for a second, but knew he wouldn't have opted for anything but the truth because truthfully, despite everything, he really wanted to get it off his chest. "I mean no, you're not far off."

That took her aback, her eyes widening until he could see the whites around her irises. "Holy – hold up, let's circle back. You're saying – you're saying you do have feelings for me?"

No turning back now. "Yeah, I guess. Sort of. Just realized it not that long ago."

He still remembered it clearly; they were alone in the apartment he shared with his roommate, she was waiting for her fiancée to come home, and he decided to make dinner for her because she said she hadn't eaten anything since morning. As he finished setting up the table, he found her beaming at him, and that was the exact moment he realized. That this odd warm feeling he had whenever he saw her, the gymnastic flip his heart made whenever she smiled at him, they were not normal behavior towards his best friend's fiancée. It drove him out of his mind to the extent that got him physically sick later that night because he just could not possibly catch any sort of feelings for his best friend's fiancée, but he did anyway.

"And I thought he was crazy for suspecting such thing," she muttered to herself, looking more stunned than anything. "I won't even realize anything if he didn't point them out to me."

He chuckled. "Of course he picks up the signs. We've been friends for so long now, he knows me inside out."

She threw him a look, long and considering. Strangely enough, the scrutiny didn't make him nervous; if anything, now that the cat was out of the bag, he was eager to answer all the questions he could almost hear running around inside her head. "Were you ever going to tell him?" she finally asked.

"I was torn," he admitted. "I want to tell him for so many reasons. One of the biggest is that we've been friends for so long, even the thought of hiding something this huge from him makes me uneasy. Also, I feel like I've wronged him horribly and just want to beg for his forgiveness. But then there's this little voice telling me that he might end up not forgiving me and won't want to be friends with me anymore, and I chickened out. I can't risk that, can't risk losing tens of years of great friendship over something that I could just shove to the farthest, darkest corner of my head, so I did just that." He laughed, a little bitterly. "Didn't consider him finding out on his own, though. Should've known better."

She listened to his explanation very carefully, eyes never leaving him the entire time. Waited a few seconds after he stopped before asking, "Were you ever going to tell me?"

He blinked, genuinely perplexed by the question. "Of course not. Never plan to do anything about it. I would never do that to him."

She nodded, taking her fiancée's hand that was lying on the table and started playing with his fingers. He didn't stir one bit – he really was out cold. "He asked me if I want to, you know, do something about it. If I want to call things off with him and see if it can work out with you."

Oh, how much he hated himself for the tiniest bit of hope creeping up his chest. He shoved it down the drain violently. "I would never ask you to," he said.

"I know, but he insisted – said he doesn't want to be in the way if I feel the same for you, wedding preparations be damned. So I thought about it, like really thought about it. Figured it was for the best because I can't keep being in a relationship with him without being extra sure about my feelings, it's not fair for him."

It was his turn to nod. "And? Did you come to conclusion?"

Her eyes darted away from his, the first time since she started this topic, and it was an answer enough for him. "I'm really sorry," she whispered. "But I love him."

He nodded again, solemnly this time. "Don't be sorry. I'm actually glad to hear that. He's really in it for life with you," he added absentmindedly, suddenly remembering the inhalers. "I would never ruin that for him."

"Still, I'm sorry about the circumstances." She cleared her throat as her voice was threatening to break. "If there's anything – anything I can do to make it less shitty for you? I can come over less, or stop seeing you altogether."

"No, don't." The reason came a little late after the quick answer. "I will always see you from time to time as long as I'm friends with him, which I intend to keep that way, so it's just impossible. And – " he hesitated for a second " – he's my best friend, but you've become my friend too, and I don't want to lose that either. So just... don't change anything."

Her free hand was quick and swift, but he didn't miss the movement of wiping a tear away from her cheek. "Won't you feel miserable though?"

Various memories of having to witness the exchange of loving gazes and affectionate gestures between his best friend and his fiancée ambushed him all of a sudden. It was unpleasant, painful even at first, but then he realized that the desire of wanting to see the two people happy was way, way stronger than the pain it caused. "I'll manage," he finally said.

Both of her hands came over the table to grab one of his and squeeze hard. It lasted for just two seconds before she retreated and settled by gripping the edge of the table. She threw him a sweet, trembling smile. "In another life, maybe," she breathed.

The thought of an alternate universe where they would work was pleasant enough for him to cling to. "Yeah, maybe."

: Hey, sorry I was out cold when you came : Heard she talked it out with you? : yeah. sorry I didn't have the nerve to come clean sooner : No worries, man. Didn't want to confront you myself either : We're good, yeah? : I am, and going forward I will tell you if I feel otherwise : Good. Same goes to you : Maybe it's time for you to go scout some SINGLE ladies for yourself : rude. : Too soon? : a little : Sorry. I'll bring some peace offerings home

#oneshot #angst

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itsvici0usbaby · 2 years

Text

As long as it’s not about love || Eddie Munson

Eddie Munson x goth !fem! reader

A/N : I haven’t seen a lot of Eddie x goth/alt reader so I just absolutely had to! Also I'm so sorry. I've totally gone overboard with this but I couldn't stop– I swear, the things this man does to me …

Warnings: smut (18+) Minors DNI, oral sex; f! & m! receiving, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, public sex, cumming inside [don’t forget tho: Don’t be a fool, cover your tool!]

Word count : 7.3k

A one shot inspired by the song 'As long as it’s not about love' by Dio. Highly recommend listening! (I know the song came out in 2000 but it’s one of my favorites sooo-)

'From the first time we touched with our eyes, only magic could take away my heart.'

He had a tight grip on your hand, guiding you through the rowdy crowd. The stereo blared overhead, and young people stood to either side of you, the collection of empty shot glasses and beer mugs everywhere suggested career drinkers. The bar was hundreds of conversations told in loud voices, all of them competing with the loud metal music that dominated the atmosphere.

He came to an abrupt halt, causing you to crush into his back. You gasped, wanting to apologize but before you even could as much as open your mouth, he was walking again. His long frizzy hair looked so inviting, your hands tingling at the thought of having them go through his pretty curls.

And as he walked in front of you, you took your time to admire him, notice every detail you could. Like how the back of his battle vest had a patch of one of your favorite bands on it; Dio, the last in line. Alone that made him incredibly attractive. Or how the zipper of his leather jacket sleeve was re-enforced with chains that would surely have made noises if it wasn't so loud in here...

You were snapped out of your daze as his grip tightened, it was almost like he was scared that if he let go, you'd simply vanish. Granted, you were scared of that very same thing. How often would you meet a person you clicked with the way you did with him?

"You okay back there?" He peaked over his shoulder, smiling at you so sweetly you almost had a heart attack. You couldn't answer, too engrossed in his brown hues that held so much mischief, and so much mystery. Perhaps, that's what attracted you to him the most; that peculiar behavior you had picked up on right from the bet.

"Hey, hey, hey. You still there?" He'd turned around at this point, his hand still holding yours, but the smile on his face was replaced by a worried frown. "If you want to stay for the rest of the gig, I understand. I just thought, maybe we could scram and-"

"Eddie." You stopped him before he could ramble on, hand squeezing his assuringly. You didn't know him for long, but saying his name like that made the butterflies in your stomach come to life. You could say his name again and again, over and over and over again ... Eddie. Eddie. Eddie!

He looked at you, and even in the dimly lit room he could see your beautiful e/c orbs, they looked so vibrant and alive in contrast to your dark eye make-up. You were gorgeous, it was almost like you weren't even real. But your warm, sweaty hand in his, squeezing it so tight, convinced him otherwise. Your h/c hair clung to your forehead and neck, and your black velvety dress to your body like a second skin, and he found himself wondering how you'd managed to survive the night in this thing. Oh, what he would give to rip it off you...

His heart skipped a beat as your dark red painted and pierced lips etched up in a genuine smile; one that made all his worries vanish, all his insecurities disappear. His heart pounded against his chest, he was almost worried you would be able to hear it, though that would've been impossible with the loud music filling everyone's ear drums.

"Shut up and keep going."

"Yes ma'am!" You smiled as he wasted no time, body pushing through the crowd with you walking closely behind him just like you did before.

Once you were outside the stifling bar, Eddie watched as you rummaged through your bag before you twirled a lighter between your fingertips, raising it to the tip of your smoke and ignited it with practiced expertise. You inhaled, ensuring that the thing was evenly lit before you pulled back and rested your back against a wall.

"You don't mind, do you?"

He shook his head, walking over to stand beside you. Of course he didn't mind, the stash of weed in his trailer popped up in his mind and he silently snickered to himself.

Not before long, Eddie's eyes shifted to be on you, and he just watched, which was a rare occasion –Eddie loved talking. But he was in a trance, your red lipstick stained the tipping paper as you exhaled the smoke with your eyes closed, enjoying the first drag. His orbs trailed down to your black velvety dress yet again, it reached a few centimeters above your knees and softly hugged your curves in all the right places. Your outfit was pimped with fishnets, and scarlet creepers.

There was something so dark, eerie and mysterious about you –aside from your gothic appearance– and the town's freak was smitten. In fact, he was from the very first time he saw you sip on a beer, watching some unknown metal band perform. And even more so when he got a chance to talk to you. You were smart, feisty and not afraid to speak up if things bothered you; that much he was able to pick up by now.

The car ride was dominated by loud music being played, both your heads moving along to the heavy bass, your voices surely obnoxiously loud singing along to Welcome home, by Metallica.

And you couldn't help but steal a few longing glances, drinking in all that was him. His hair that swayed whenever he'd pop his head back and forth to the rhythm, his eyes that would shift to look at you here and there, and his hands with all those pretty rings. You caught yourself wondering what it'd be like to feel his fingertips glide over your bare skin. Feeling his breath against your neck as he whispers sweet things into your ear, the cold feeling of his rings against your hot skin...

"I know a great place where we could chill for a while if you'd be, uhh... up for that?" He talked over the music, head shifting in your direction to look at you quizzically.

A lake. It was a beautiful lake he'd let you to. Since you moved here, you didn't get the chance to explore Hawkins, so you were grateful he showed you such beauty. Though, you were much more interested in the man laying next to you. His head propped up by his arms, he looked so peaceful watching the sky.

On the way here, you had both gotten rid of your shoes, wanting to feel the grass, soft and mellow beneath your soles. You loved being barefoot in these cozy months of blossom, even in the middle of the night.There was a kind of freedom to it, that natural feel you suppose. It was good, calming.

Eddie could see the reflection of the landscape which he had grown so familiar over the years, with he knew every tree and pebble in sight. He knew the lone mountain in the distance, towering above everything in sight and yet, still seeming astonishingly small and overpowered by his thought and feelings. At the foot of it, a pine forest unfolded and spread all around the water. There was the mist, creeping down from the mountains, sneaking its way between the thick tree trunks. And right next to him were you; laying in the grass,staring at the night sky as the moon illuminated your features.

Have you ever felt drawn to someone? Felt an irresistible attraction? A mystical power compelling you to get closer to someone and get to know them? Yes? Well,this was exactly how Eddie felt. He didn't know if he was just crazy or if this was real, but he was keen to find out.

"Fuck, shit ... god-fuckin' damnit." He cursed, causing you to look over at him, surprised at his sudden outburst. He looked conflicted, teeth chewing on his lower lip nervously, hands fumbling with one of his rings.

"I really, really, REALLY want to kiss you right now." Your heart beat picked up, surprised at his straight forwardness. But that's just how Eddie was, he was loud, and blunt and if he wanted something, god forbid!

"Then do it" you breathed out, giggling once you saw him exhale the breath he'd been holding. And he grinned, boyish and mischievous, so absolutely charming it made you want to jump at him, devour him.

His chain that was attached to his jeans rattled as he scooped closer, his hair now ticking your skin as his lips hovered over your own. The warm feeling of his breath, although destabilizing, was inviting. His smell was intoxicating, though you couldn't say what exactly he smelled like, it was a mixture of scents. Beer,cigarettes and sweat. It all was just ... Eddie.

"So.. Just to make sure once again, uh, you're alright with it, right?" He spoke softly, fingers gently brushing over your sides. You shuddered.

"Yes."

There wasn't a moment of hesitation. His mouth was on yours, and you stopped breathing. He shuddered as he felt the cold sensation of the piercings that decorated your lips, and there was a sound from the back of his throat, half groan, half moan. Little shivers of pleasure and panic shot through you, as your brain stopped working. Sealing the tiny space between, you pressed against him, digging your fingers into his hair. It was soft, silky, just as you had imagined. You sparked alive, your heart swelled to the point of near bursting. The rush of sensations crawling across your body was maddening. Scary. Thrilling.

His hands were on your hips, and he lifted you up as if you were made of air. Your legs wrapped around his waist and soon you were straddling his lap, but your lips remained sealed. It was like you couldn't get enough of each other. You were devouring one another, drowning in each other. In him you'd found someone to connect with that night, someone that made you feel alive. Someone that wasn't as shallow as everyone else around you.

Your kiss slowed, becoming tender and infinitely more. It was like you were getting to know each other on an intimate level. Though that part usually came after getting to know each other emotionally, it didn't bother either of you, not in that moment of neediness, that moment of wanting to feel each other. You were breathless and dazed, unprepared for all of this, but your body ached for more than just kisses and touching– for more of him. And you knew he did, too. His body shook like yours. It was easy to get lost in him, lost in this connection between you. The world–the universe– simply ceased to exist.

"Eddie." You said, once he pulled away, almost wheezing for air at this point, "Want you." You didn't know why. Why you were here, at some place unknown, with someone you had just met, someone you didn't know much about.

And there was no reasonable answer to that question. Because the one answer you did come up with, was more than unreasonable.

What was rational about thinking he was the one you'd been searching for? The answer was simple. Nothing. It was just a feeling you had, a feeling that you weren't able to get rid of from the moment he clumsily asked if you'd want a drink. The moment he smiled at you so vibrant and free, it pulled you in. The moment you realized he wasn't a superficial person, wasn't like the many men you had encountered before.

His brown orbs met yours and he tilted his head to the side playfully, a shit eating grin playing on his lips. He thought you were the cutest thing, sitting there on his lap, lips swollen and dark red lipstick smudged. He was sure he had it all over his mouth, too, but there was nothing more appealing and romantic than that very thought. For Eddie Munson, that is.

"Here? Ya want me... right here?" His eyebrows raised, the grip he had on your waist never once loosened. "Well to be honest, I thought we could listen to some mind–blowing, ass–kicking music while this continues, but I guess ..." he sighed dramatically, "...I guess this'll have to do..."

You nudged his side, pouting adorably as you removed your hands from his curls completely, though all in good humor. Eddie's eyes, however, momentarily widened, hoping you didn't get the wrong idea. And, of course you didn't, but you decided to play your part a little longer, wondering how he'd try to convince you that he was merely joking.

And so you moved a little, implying that you'd get off his lap, but he was fast to snake his arms around your middle, keeping you in place.

"No, no, no, no, no! I want you, like, so bad. Like, crazy bad. Absolutely mind-exploding bad." He rambled, and you couldn't help but giggle at his cute antics, ultimately breaking character. "In fact, I want you so bad that I would totally kick my own ass if you would just up and leave now and–"

You shut him up with the rocking of your hips against his, lips connecting anew, and you could've sworn he gasped at your sudden and bold movement. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hips, his insistent mouth was parting your shaking lips, sending wild tremors along your nerves, evoking from your sensations you had never known you were capable of feeling. He hummed into your mouth, a pleasant sound, one that reminded you of comfort, of home.The low timbre of his voice made you shiver as he was this close.

"Guess that means you'll stay.", he muttered against your lips, and his hands moved from your waist to your back and his fingers fumbled with your dress' zipper. He parted, only to look at your flurried face, eager to drink it that expression you wore.

"I can take it off right? That must've been so uncomfortable ..."

"Says the guy with a leather jacket and a battle vest on." You rebutted, glaring at him playfully. "But we could also just get rid of it while we're at it." And before he could say or do anything, you beat him to his plans as your fingers already took a hold of his jackets, sliding both off his shoulders in one go. And he didn't complain– only helped you by wiggling out of his utterly unnecessary clothing as he tossed it to the side carelessly.

You stared at the shirt he still wore, fingers gliding over the fabric. "Hellfire club?" You raised an eyebrow as you finally got to ask the question that had been on the tip of your tongue for a while.

"It's a Dungeons & Dragons club. I'm kinda like .. the head of 'em. " He explained, one hand finally unzipping your dress while you were too engrossed in the shirt's print and his sweet little bats tattoo that you spotted on his forearm. You wondered how many more tattoos he was hiding under that shirt of his...

"Oh! That satanic role-play game!" You teased, lips curling up into a smirk. "Should I be scared of you now? Since you're a cult leader and all.."

"Oh most definitely! Don't you see how utterly sinful I am behaving?" With those words, he slid your dress up, and over your head while you worked your arms out of the sleeves. The metalhead stared, your black laced bra leaving little to nothing to the imagination. And you gasped, the chilly night air finally hitting your exposed , heated skin and leaving goosebumps in its waking.

"I must've closed a damn good deal with the devil."

His words were spoken softly, eyes admiring your breasts, he surely didn't expect this. The see-through material clearly showed that both your nipples were decorated with cute metal jewelries, and he couldn't wait to flick and lick away at them.

Suddenly you felt self conscious, all you wanted to do was hide from his burning gaze. You blushed, lips pulled into a frown as you squirmed in your place. You weren't usually a shy person when it came to undressing or showing off, but somehow it was different with Eddie. You felt like a damn virgin under his observance.

"Uh-uh." He clicked his tongue, somehow knowing what you were about to do, but he gently took both of your wrists, holding on to them so you couldn't hide away. "Not gonna happen. Abso–fucking–lutely not."

"Then don't stare like that!"

"Like what?"

"Like..like –"

"Like I totally want to rip that useless thing off you?" He asked, grinning as his lips came up to your ear, his fingertips already trailing over your back as he hooked a finger under the fabric. You were too distracted by his warm breath tickling your cheek to realize what he was doing, his scent invading your nostrils and causing your brain to go blank momentarily.

"That's most likely because I do." You didn't know how–or when– he did it, but from one second to the other, he'd already opened your bra clip, leaving you no time to react as your bra was removed, quick hands slipping the straps off your shoulders, as the piece of fabric landed in your lap.

"Creep." You muttered and watched him throw your bra into the same direction he'd tossed his jacket to; somewhere completely abandoned.

Eddie smiled at your insult, his eyes taking in the sight of your fully exposed chest. "Fuck." He harshly whispered as he moved forward, taking one of your breasts in his hand, the cold sensation of his rings against your burning skin made you gasp, "You're fucking perfect." He ran his thump and pointer finger over your nipple, taking your piercing between them and you whined, the metalhead's eyes cutting to yours with a boyish grin on his face.

"Did that feel good?" You barely had any time to think of an answer before he took your other nipple in his mouth, tongue lapping over and over, pulling out all kinds of pretty sounds from you. A strained whine left your lips as he rolled your piercing around on his tongue, playing with it. God, he would've given up his whole music collection if it meant he could hear more of this.

You tangled your hands into his wild curls, feeling his lips move on to leave little kisses everywhere he could reach. The feeling of his mouth so warm and wet on your bare skin sent a burst of heat straight to your core and made it ache as a small sound escaped you.

Your nails grazed his scalp and you felt the man underneath you shudder, making you seethe with desire. You continued your ministrations on his hair, pressing your fingers into the tender parts of his scalp and scraping it gently, combing back his hair repeatedly with your fingers.

"I think I like this." Eddie sighed out, your eyes locked with his own, and you couldn't find it in you to look away. Eddie Munson held you in an immobile trance, and the bastard knew what he was doing to you, too.

You held his head in your hands now from the back, supporting yourself. Eddie had his arms wrapped around you, settling on your lower back. He smiled up at you sweetly, licking his lips, his eyes intent on you as you took the chance to reach your hands out to impatiently slide his shirt up and over his torso, shoulders, and head before you tossed the fabric onto the ground.

Finally you could take a good look at him and the tattoos littering his skin, eyes taking in everything he had to offer. As you continued to stare, you came to the realization that Eddie was the epitome of perfect in your books quite honestly. Your eyes shamelessly gazed at the soft, plush skin that stretched across his abdomen and pectorals. You could clearly see the definition in the soft light of the moon, leaving hints of abs and –dare you say–delicious pecs. They were gently raised on his chest and expanded with every soft inhale he made.

Eddie didn't say anything, didn't stop you when your hands came up to his chest, fingertips grazing his skin. He just watched you, enjoying the attention on him. Because quite honestly, he didn't get it very often. In fact, there's never been a woman that looked at him the way you did, burning his face, his body into your memory so intensely. Engrossed into the artwork on his skin, you admired the piece on his right inner forearm, probably your favorite followed by his bats tattoo.A puppet. Weird, metal, and so absolutely fitting for him.

"I love your tattoos." you cooed, shifting closer before you let your lips trail over his chest, tongue gently lapping over the inked skin on his left side. Your fingers played with his guitar pick necklace, as he hummed appreciatively.

When you were finished admiring and touching, you allowed your eyes to travel further down. There was a trail of black hair that laid flat against his lower stomach, trailing underneath the waistband of his ripped jeans. You felt your face get warmer as you stared at his groin now, seeing that there was a prominent bulge in a protruding outline.

Taking a deep breath in, you gently placed your hand on his groin, cupping his bulge ever so gently. Your heartbeat raced in your chest and your breath stuttered. It was thick from what you could feel in your hands, you wondered how he'd feel inside of you.

"Holy mother of Jesus." Eddie's fingertips were still gliding over your back, hands slightly shaky. His words just egged you on even more as you rubbed his dick through his pants with more pressure, the stimulation made Eddie groan. The noise he made was so fucking hot, and you wanted more. You wanted to hear him moan and tell you how good it felt.

Surprised at your own thoughts, you realized that you were trembling. You needed to regain your composure.You had never really wanted something like that before, but something about this man made you feral on the inside. Just the thought of him made you release pheromones and you could feel your arousal, hot and slick inside your panties.

You gently moved off his lap, sitting next to him now, your cheeks flushed and heart beating wildly against your chest because of what you're about to do.

"Can I?"

Eddie looked almost offended at your question, hand coming up to where his heart is, "How rude!" His face came dangerously close to you, lips hovering over your ear. "Of course you can! Want you to show me how good your pretty little mouth feels around my cock."

Your face burned red as you leaned down, using every bit of confidence you could muster. And so you slowly, and with shaking hands, opened his black leather belt before lowering his bottoms, coarser tufts of hair appeared. He obviously kept it trimmed up and you were appreciative. You basically drooled and you took his jeans and briefs down far enough and reached in gently to remove his dick so it wouldn't spring out. As soon as you wrapped your hand around it to pull it out, you felt him twitch.

"Mmmm... fuck." You audibly heard Eddie moan, and as you looked at his face, he had his eyes half closed, lips pressed together firmly.

Removing it from its covers, your eyes widened at the extremity. His cock was thick and decently long, standing proud in your hand. You could barely wrap your whole hand around it. A vein ran up the bottom of his shaft and spiraled halfway around the circumference to the tip of it. You gave an experimental stroke or two and felt how soft it was and how easily your skin glided across it. There was no way to describe it other than pretty.

At your more prominent actions, Eddie let out a hum, bucking his hips up and therefore moving his cock in your soft hand, begging to be touched. You swore he couldn't get any harder than this, but he proved you wrong. The tip was an angry red and he became hotter to the touch. The blood flowing through him made his arousal more outstanding than ever. You couldn't help but stare at the throbbing dick in your hand, squeezing it gently again, earning yourself another groan from the man of the hour.

Stroking him a couple more times, you leaned your head closer, breath fanning over his throbbing length. A trail of clear precum leaked out of his hot tip, and you stroked it a couple more times before enveloping it with your lips, flattening your tongue and sucking off the sticky liquid.

You felt a hand snake in your hair and gently grip your locks, encouraging you to continue. "You're gonna be the death of me." He growled, pushing your head down with encouraging pressure as you enveloped him, sinking your head down to accommodate his length in your wet mouth. But holy fuck, having him moan and grip your hair as you felt his rings against your scalp was a major turn on, and it motivated you to do whatever it took to pleasure him.

You continued your onslaught of moving your head, sucking, licking, and moving your tongue on his dick and you could tell he was holding back from just fucking your face by his restrained bucks into your mouth. It was hot.

He watched as your lipstick blemished his cock, pierced lips working wonders, but if anything it only made him grow harder at the sight.

"You're so beautiful, blowing me so well." You groaned at his compliment, and it turned you on even more. He was definitely a little too good at this. You felt his dick twitch in your mouth, and Eddie let out a choked moan. You slackened your mouth more, speeding up and letting his dick hit the back of your throat. Time and time again.

"Wait.... fuck.. I'm close, stop, or else...." He gently tugged you off of him, but you weren't having any of that.

Thanks for the consideration, Eddie.

You shoved your head down against his grip, moaning on his cock as you sped up, feeling him near his end. He hardened more in your mouth, and he started twitching.

"Wait! Fuck. No! you can't. I- I'm gonna..." He could barely finish his sentence, the sensations overwhelming his senses. He threw his head back against the grass, and it was too late. You slid your mouth down on him one final time and you felt hot spurts of cum fill the back of your mouth, and he bucked his hips, his cock hitting your throat. Hard. You didn't gag, but it was a little uncomfortable. But holy shit was it worth it.

"Mmmmm...shit." He hummed out, panting heavily as he finished in your mouth. The noises he made were so attractive and you wanted to hear more of him. Just knowing that you made him feel good was almost satisfying enough, but the painful throb that emitted from your legs said otherwise. You groaned against him, swallowing the slightly salty slick, making sure to clean it up so there wouldn't be a mess.

You let his dick pop off your lips and you panted heavily, relishing in the oxygen you didn't realize you were lacking. You rested your head gently against his lower stomach, eyes barely open but staring at his flushed face. He glowed in his post orgasm bliss, eyes shut and breathing heavy, groans mixed in. Your mouth was slightly agape, jaw a bit sore and slack from what you had just done, lips swollen and glistening with saliva.

Eddie's eyes fluttered open and he gave you a soft smile which made your stomach do flips.

You watched as he was sitting himself up, and he was suddenly in front of you. He cupped your face in his hands, tilting your head so that you would properly look at him. He looked intensely into your eyes, and you were surprised to see them dark and almost feral instead of tired, and he hungrily pressed his mouth against yours.

"Your turn." He spoke as he broke the sweet kiss, moving out of his jeans and briefs completely, throwing it to the other clothes somewhere; neglected. Blindly, and without wasting time he turned you to drive you against the ground, with him on top of you. He needed your body flush against his, needed to feel the press of those firm, full, pierced breasts against his chest as he wedged a thigh between yours. The need to touch,to give, nearly overwhelmed him.

"Wanna make you feel good,too."

His long hair tickled your face and you closed your eyes, succumbing to his words. Your skin was flushed and your body was so oversensitized. You didn't know if you could handle anything more.

You laid beneath him,your chest moving up and down with every breath you took. But it wasn't enough for him, as his fingers hooked underneath the waistband of your fishnets, urging you to lift your butt so he could get rid of them.

"Those gotta go." And like the needy girl you were, you complied.

Soon, his fingertips brushed over one curved, tattoo covered hip, over your smooth skin, dragging your laced underwear down, he took a moment to admire the black rose design, tracing his fingers over it.

"Why a black rose?" He asked nonchalantly, as his fingers skimmed between your thighs. You jumped and twitched. Gliding his hand over to the other hip, he drew the lace away as you lifted your hips to let him.

"Because I like black roses?" You couldn't provide any other answer because, well... your mind wasn't exactly focused on anything else other than him.

Eddie smiled before his lips came up to your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he trailed sweet, light kisses up to your jaw, before he gently bit into your earlobe. "You're gorgeous." Two simple words, words that you had heard so many times before, but they suddenly took on a much deeper meaning. You weren't sure if it was because of the way he said it or if it simply was because he said it; all you knew was that it drove you absolutely wild, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering to life.

He used your moment of stillness as his hand slipped between your thighs and you cried out on a half sob of pleasure as he touched delicate, aching flesh, one of his rings dragging against it so deliciously. "Fuck,you're soaked." He groaned, "So wet for me. Did it turn you on this much just by sucking me off?" He grinned at your pleasure stricken face, and you threw your head back, moaning.

All you could feel was his touch, all you knew was the heat that moved through you, the need. You were speechless, nearly mindless. You slung your arms around him, pushing him incredibly close to yourself, as close as the position you were in allowed.

"Is this where it hurts?" He leaned down, kissing the shell of your ear. His languid pace turned faster now, stimulating the bundle of nerves intensely as he rubbed in circles with ease.

"Hurts so bad that you need me to take care of it?" He licked your neck and you wanted to scream.

"Eddie!" You squealed as he stopped, sliding his fingers down to your puckered opening.

"Does it hurt here too? Do I need to make you feel better? You're so sensitive, I can't fucking believe it." He pressed his middle finger up against your entrance, and your arms flew to his biceps, digging your nails into them. He drank in your vulnerability, relishing in your glow and need for him to touch you, to do anything to release the pressure.

He took his sweet time taking off his rings, one by one, all the while he watched you squirm and shudder under his gaze, and he enjoyed every second of it. Once he was done, he wasted no time and plunged his finger inside of you deeply, so sudden, you let out a squeal, the feeling made you blabber incoherent words.Eddie chuckled, strumming you like an instrument that is made for him; more so than his beloved guitar. He hummed to himself, fingers curling into you and pushing just the right places. His thumb occasionally came up to rub against your clit, firmly stroking in tandem with his thrusting finger.

"More, Eddie please. I need more!"

"Just remember… you asked for it." He suddenly pulled his single digit from you and plunged a second finger inside, stretching you out suddenly from the thickness of both digits.

The metalhead latched onto one of your breasts again, sucking your nipple, teeth gently pulling on your piercing, making your whole body feel like it was on fire. Your hands never left this arms, gripping them together as he pistoned his fingers in and out of you. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you gave into the overwhelming pleasure of Eddie.

"Feels so good around my fingers but...–" He groaned, suddenly sliding them out. Your pussy clenched around nothing, begging to be stimulated.

"What? No, please don't stop, I–" you spoke too soon as his attention moved from your chest down to your stomach, kissing the soft flesh there. He moved lower and lower, and your breath hitched.

He used two fingers and spread your labia, revealing your soaked, dripping mess of a cunt. You knew it was basically throbbing, begging him to touch you. To do anything.He hummed, looking a little too long for your liking.

"Don't stare." Your hands pressed against his face in vain, and he just laughed at your actions.

"Oh, so you get to look at me and drool over my cock but I'm not allowed to look at your pretty little pussy?" The pad of his thumb pressed over your slick clit, rubbing over it once with lovely pressure. You shivered and groaned at his action.

His hands slid up your legs to gently stroke your thighs, to rub along your sides, to massage circles into your hips while he kissed your core. Eddie watched the rise and fall of your chest from across your body. Listened to the sway of your small soft sounds, eyes gluing themselves to your mouth hung open, panting. He watched your expression as he licked a particularly heavy stripe up your folds before softly sucking your clit into his mouth,the tip of his tongue circling the little pearl. Your sighs weren't so soft then, whimpering and breathing heavily,

"E-Eddie," you mewled, hips gently grinding into his mouth, fingers weaving into his hair. He took your hips in his hands, softly rubbing his thumb across the bone, eyes fluttering closed as he gets lost in appreciating you. Humming a "mmm?" in reply without taking his lips off you, and the vibrations electrified you. "Eddie, please," you begged, one of your hands going to meet his where it circles at your side.

Your eyes rolled back as he used his tongue to fuck into you, curling it to stroke against your sweet spot with a lustful gaze. Despite his efforts, you could feel him start to lose himself, getting drunk off your juices. You could feel him start to get desperate as his tongue became hungry, his hands starting to wander, the way he began to moan into you. Your back arched, and as your hips lifted, he was quick to follow. He was utterly overwhelming, and he knew you'd be close soon by the way your breathing picked up, eyes tightly pressed shut. And he wanted you to, he wanted you to reach that feeling of bliss you'd been chasing.

"Need you so bad, Eddie." You begged, your fingernails digging into his scalp, pushing your cunt further into his face. Not on purpose, no, you just had no control over anything anymore.

"Need you or I'm gonna -"

"I know. Let go for me, yeah? You can do that for me, right?" Eddie watched you, pupils blown, a small sheen of sweat on his forehead which made his bangs stick to his skin.

You felt the pulse of your cunt, throbbing as the orgasm rushed through your bones, squealing with your head thrown back, pushing into the soft grass when you finally let go, squirming and releasing your juices against his mouth. He worked you through your high, you clawed at him weakly, hips jerking even as his ministrations slowed down. Your heart sputtered out of control, you thought you might pass out.

"Atta fuckin' girl." He praised, removing his mouth from your cunt, slick running down bis chin. He climbed back over your body, before he pulled you into a messy kiss, petting his tongue over yours so you could taste yourself– so you could taste what he did to you.

"C'mere," He murmured. He slid his arms under your back and held your body to his chest until you finally brought a weak hand to his back, trying to keep him closer. He knew you were still trying to comprehend, trying to come down to earth so he wanted to comfort you best he could.

Even though your walls were still clenching with aftershocks, his body against yours reignited the coals in the pit of your stomach. Eddie brought something out in your soul, something carnal, and you couldn't help but press your clit against his thigh.

"Patience, don't wanna overwhelm you." He cooed as he looked at you, taking in your disheveled face; your black eyeliner and eyeshadow was smudged, black tear stains reaching down your cheeks. You looked so pretty like this, he wished he had a camera to capture it. His fingers came up to your hair, tucking a lose strand behind your ear as your breath slowly evened out and you leaned into his hand as it stayed warm on your cheek.

"You sure you can handle anymore?"

"Mmm, yeah. Want you, Eddie."

His dark eyes penetrated your soul as he pressed his warm lips against yours. You shivered.

"Your wish is my law." He gently laid you down onto the grass, as salty sweat dripped from your breasts. He was hovering over you, he looked deeply into your eyes, he smelled your hair, caressed your thighs. Long fingernails dug in his skin, yourself so wet, invites him in.

"Fuck." He breathed out, feeling your walls clench around him, taking him ever so slowly. He didn't rush, wanting to enjoy what you'd been building up for way too long. You had other plans though, as you clasped your thighs around his middle, forcing him deeper into you, and you whined at feeling so full, so whole, so good.

Eddie shuddered when he bottomed out, your whines overtaking his mind and holding him captive. it was so deep, stuffed into the hilt of your cunt and it felt so good for both of you.

"So big." You were fucked dumb without him having fucked you properly just yet, and he couldn't help but laugh.

"Yeah? Too big for you, sweetheart?" He teased, the nickname clearly meant to mock you. But there was not an ounce of motivation to tease back at this point anymore.

"No, no! It's big but you can move. Please!" Eddie mentally prepared himself, taking in a deep inhale before bracing his arms on both sides of your head and cocking his hips back.

"Tell me if it's too much, 'kay? promise?”

"Promise, Eddie, just move already." You panted out, feeling so stretched and worn out already. His long hair tickled your face as he brought his lips up to kiss your cheek.

And when he started moving, fuck, he couldn't stop himself anymore. The way you were sucking him in, his muscles rippled and flexed from his arms to his abdomen, his cock driving forwards into the deepest part of your cunt. The whines you let out were filthy, flooding the silent air along with Eddie's stifled grunts.

His cock slipped through so easily, smothered in the mess you made as it fucked into you again and again–harder each time. He was in heaven, feeling like he was floating on a cloud and his head was spinning as he delved his cock so far into your precious pussy.

"Sayin' I'm too big and still taking me so well." He breathed out, hitting that spot that made you whine and dig your nails into the flesh on his back. "Such a good fuckin’ girl.”

You're so pretty, the way you allowed him to pound into you like this. And your needy mewls and unintelligible pleas are nothing compared to the way you fall apart on him, the way you squeeze his cock so tight, Eddie wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to pull out.

Your cunt held onto him, greedy to be filled up, but for Eddie, it's the way you breathed out his name that made him lose control spilling himself inside you and coating your insides until there was nothing left untouched by him. He fucked up into you, hitting the back of your walls, letting out heaving, stuttering breaths as he fell apart.

His heart was racing as he came down from his high, suddenly aware at how you laid underneath his chest, limp and shaking. Even sweaty and exhausted, you somehow managed to be the most beautiful thing Eddie's ever seen. He gently moved to the side, sliding his cock out of you with a sigh, a content, pleased sound, as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. He's warmth and comfort and home in a single body.

His heart dropped slightly though,when he heard you sniffle, and when he looked at your face and saw the misty quality of your eyes, fluster quickly creeped into his expression. "Hey, hey! Please don't cry." He huffed, suddenly awkward, as he reached over to caress your cheek.

"I didn't do anything wrong, did I?"

"No.. it's just –" you paused and sighed deeply. You didn't want to sound desperate, but your heart broke at the thought of having him just leave you now. "It just feels like that'll be it... Like you're gonna slip out of my grip any second."

You didn't know if you would see him again. Didn't know if you'd ever be able to get to know more about him than his name, didn't know if you'd ever get to have him beyond the physical...

Eddie reached over your body, searching for his leather jacket, before he draped it over the both of you, well, mostly you, as he pushed you impossibly close to his chest. You could feel his breath against your neck, warm and comforting. His hair tickling your face as you breathed in his scent.

"I won't leave."

...But his words were good enough for the moment. Good enough for you to fall asleep, despite not knowing if he'd still be here with you once you'd wake up.

'Cause maybe it’s all about love, love.'

#eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #stranger things #stranger things fic #smut #eddie munson smut #st season 4 #metal #ronnie james dio #st x reader #Spotify

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anantaru · 2 years

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𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗥𝗘 𝗟𝗢𝗜𝗗 & 𝗬𝗢𝗥 !

˖˚˳⊹ yandere loid and yor (separate) : spyxfamily x gn! reader

˖˚˳⊹ warnings: toxic relationship : yandere behavior (not detailed) : cursing : angst

˖˚˳⊹ 𝗟𝗢𝗜𝗗

A friend, who was about to move across the country threw a party for her friends, which included you. She had to choose a theme, come up with fun party games and favors, and plan some activities. The point is, your friend did everything in her power to make this gathering a huge success, it was your last time together so it was of utmost importance to her - that's why you lost track of time.

Or that's what you kept telling yourself, over and over again, as you searched for your keys shakily, bag dropping on the floor because your hands just couldn't stop shivering, palms coated with sweat as you hastily picked it up. Finally, obtaining the keys and opening the door to your lovely home, when you suddenly gasped out, throat tightening at his sudden appearance-

"So, you decided to come home after all. And here I thought you'd stay over at someone else's place." your heart dropped, it was beating so wildly you were forcing your body to gasp for air, "Loid- I told you about my friend's party, didn't I?" you uttered, fiddling with the hem of your shirt, not even daring to look at him.

His wandering gaze came up to your face and warmth shot painfully up your neck, "You said two hours max, did you forget, (y/n)?" Loid clicked his tongue, seated on your leather couch, playing with the ice-cubes in his drink while his intense glare pierced through your soul with an exceedingly strong desire to punish you for your wrongdoings.

You gulped out as your frame moved towards his dark aura, ceasing once your legs brushed his knees. Loid‘s face was unreadable, you were frozen with fear as his hand moved towards your wrist violently, pulling you closer so you could straddle his lap, a startled sigh leaving past your lips-

"Why won't you apologize, (y/n)?" desire fought him for a taste, a kiss, soon ravishing your pure lips with his rough ones. His calloused hand reached out for your throat, grasping it timidly when suddenly pushing you under him. His beautiful yet selfish spirit shone out like a bright star in the night of a dark and cruel age. "Apologize, (y/n), I fucking dare you."

˖˚˳⊹ 𝗬𝗢𝗥

"Tell me (y/n), are you not happy anymore? I buy you clothes and jewelry, give you money, yet still you're betraying me? Answer me (y/n), fucking answer me."

Currently sitting on your couch, hugging your legs close to your body as your girlfriend was yelling at you for forgetting the time again, "I said, answer me (y/n)." You sobbed, sucking in a deep breath as Yor threw her hands next to your head, trapping you on your seat. Her lips inches away from your own as her warm breath tickled you, a faint scent of alcohol coating your nose.

"I love you so much, why are you doing this to me, (y/n)?" The aroma of expensive cologne surrounded you and her breath smelled like a mix of alcohol and peppermint. She claimed you as hers, right? Showering you with lavish presents, yet still, did Yor in fact know what real and unconditional love meant?

"I forgot the time." you sobbed, closing your eyes to get rid of the blur, a warm tear coating your cheek as Yor reached out to brush it off you, "I'm sorry." you looked up at her with your glassy eyes. You forced yourself to move your fragile hand towards her face, shivering violently, caressing her cheek with your thumb as you smiled, overly scared by her presence alone.

You blinked back a tear, but it escaped and slid down your cheek. The feeling of genuine happiness was long gone in your relationship with Yor, yet still, you could never leave her, right? A whisper soft movement from Yor alerted you as you held your breath, straining your sight into the darkness which were her eyes.

You waited for her to release you, but with utmost care, her soft lips moved across your cold cheek and down your neck with soft caressing kisses, mumbling incoherent begs as she nibbled on your sensitive spot. Slowly her warm fingers left their place and worked their way down your body, claiming and warming you up further.

"You belong to me (y/n). Next time I won't show any mercy."

do not! share, copy or repost my work. ✎ ©ANANTARU 2022

#spy x family #spy x family x reader #yor x reader #loid x reader #spy x family loid #spy x family yor #spy x family angst #yor x reader angst #loid x reader angst #sxf loid #sxf yor #yor forger x reader #loid forger x reader

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angrelysimpping · 3 years

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you ever just want pc like, undeniably hurt. getting stabbed or shot type of hurt. because i swear that’s the only way some of these bastards would comfort them. and on the flipside, the sweeter LIs accidentally hurting you and having to face it; ex: Wren shooting you, Alex laying their hands on you when drunk, Sydney being aware as Ivory Wraith possesses them and noncons you during the prayer room scene, etc.

Love how Wren is just straight up considered an LI here

(DoL relationships; abuse; alcohol; noncon, not that explicit; reader gets fucked up😔; choking)

Alex

Alex isn't surprised when they wake up with a splitting hangover. But they are surprised by your absence in their bed.

It's been a long, long time since you've slept in your own room.

They stumble towards your room, one hand pressed to their temple as they try to recall the events of the night before.

They remember the drinks, the laughter, the way you looked at them. They remember how warm your skin was under their hands. They remember muffled words and nails digging into their skin.

Screaming. Who had been screaming? Why?

They get their answer as they open your door.

You're curled up in your bed, evidence of dried tears on your face. And bruises. So many bruises.

They feel sick.

Bile rises in their throat as you wake, at the way you flinch when your eyes land on Alex in your doorway.

They'll take care of you. They'll make things right. You'll forgive them, you have to.

You have to.

Avery

You're crying in the back seat of their car, begging for Avery to stop as they fuck you, sobbing that you hadn't meant to stand them up, it had been completely out of your control.

They don't care.

Normally they wouldn't mind the crying all that much, but your insistence that it's not your fault is getting on their nerves.

Just apologize! Say you're sorry and that you'll never do it again!

But no, you keep crying, keep making excuses.

They don't even think about it, wrapping a hand around your throat and squeezing.

It has the desired effect, your words reduced to a pitiful wheeze.

They don't know how long they keep you pinned like that, nor do they care. It's only when they shudder in release, coming against your unresponsive body, that they realize they've gone too far.

They're tempted to shove you out of their car, leave you in a heap on the street like trash. But what if someone found out and connected everything back to Avery?

(What if you didn't wake up?)

They don't take you to a hospital, what if you told them what happened? No, they take you home and call a private doctor, one who has a reputation for being discreet.

They check on you a few times throughout the day as you heal. Whether it's so they can manipulate you into never telling anyone about what happened or because they genuinely feel sorry for severally hurting you, only Avery knows.

Eden

They gave you permission to stay in town for a week.

Only a week.

And you'd been gone for a month.

They had been worried about you, thought something had happened, that they lost you.

But no, no. When Eden had gone into town, a shaky drawing of you clutched in hand and ready to stop strangers on the street to ask if they'd seen you, they'd found you, gallivanting about, having a fucking ball.

They don't even bother talking to you. Instead, they grab you by the wrist and drag you into the woods.

They're eerily quiet as they bring you home, ignoring how you whine that they're hurting you.

You try to pull away, and Eden's grip tightens.

Their blood runs cold as you scream.

Eden has always been rough with you, but they've been careful not to hurt you beyond repair, to the point where they couldn't heal you themself.

They don't want to let you go into town, especially if you're going to end up in the hospital.

But they snapped your wrist.

They pick you up, cradling you to their chest as they rush to the cabin.

It's fine, they can fix this it's fine. Stop crying it's fine.

They make sure you're still wearing your collar, hooking a leash onto it and securing it to a wooden beam over the bed. The last thing they want you to do is try to run while you're already hurt.

They try to use this to their advantage, reminding you how this is your fault for staying in town for too long, how they could just let the wolves have you.

Be grateful that they're taking care of you. Do you know what it's like in the hospital in town? Eden does. You wouldn't like it there.

Kylar

You're crying tears of joy, that's it!

That's why you're sobbing as Kylar pins you to a dirty mattress in an alley.

It has nothing to do with the knife digging into your throat as they move against you.

A sound at the end of the alley makes Kylar turn, grip on the knife tightening as they make sure no one is approaching.

You try to break free.

Kylar grabs at you, fumbling in their haste.

Somehow, their knife ends up in your shoulder.

You whimper as blood starts to well form the wound, staining your school shirt.

Kylar is immediately panicking. They didn't do it on purpose! They promise! They swear on your life.

They're likely to drag you to the hospital, adamant that you're dying.

They would try to take care of you themself, but they're so terrified at the sight of your blood on their knife.

(And a little turned on, but they try hard to shut that part down. They don't want to see your blood! They don't!)

Of course, they try to stay by your side, apologizing over and over, saying it will never happen again.

If someone asks what happened, Kylar will make up a story. Say someone attacked you and Kylar managed to save you. You're too out of it from blood loss and the pain medication to argue.

Robin

Robin bites their lip as the screen flashes red. The words "You Died" fading into existence in large, black text in the center of the screen.

It's just a moment. Just a single instance where they let their anger get the better of them.

They fling their controller to the side.

They don't aim for the door. Even if they had, there's no way they could have known you were about to open the door.

That the controller would hit you in the head.

In the exact right spot, at the exact right angle, to knock you out

It all happens so fast. One moment Robin is staring at the screen, the next your limp body.

And they freak.

They get Bailey, they don't know what else to do. They hit you in the head, the head! They knocked you out! Would you have a concussion? Could they move you? They heard somewhere you aren't suppose to move people with head wounds, they think.

Glued to your side, apologizing over and over.

Might go a bit overboard, to be honest.

Sydney

What's happening?

You had wanted this, they're sure. You wanted to sneak into the prayer room. You wanted to fool around, to defile sacred ground.

You wanted this!

So why are you crying?

And why can't Sydney stop?

You scream as Sydney forces you to cum again, writhing under them, trying to get away from them.

Their mouth opens, words come out, but they can't hear themself speak.

You cry harder.

Sydney tries to kiss you, to wipe away your tears and tell you they love you. They try to stop.

They can't.

They breathe in deep, incense filling their lungs, and their world become hazy.

They feel so light, like they're floating.

Is that their hand around your throat? Their fingers digging into your hip? No, that can't be right. That can't be...

Huh?

How did they get in the Temple garden?

Was it all some weird dream?

But you're still crying and there's a bruise forming around your neck and-

They hurt you. Sydney hurt you.

They're on the very of tears themself as they guide you somewhere private.

Sydney will take care of you. Please, please let them take care of you. They're so sorry. They... they don't know what came over them.

Whitney

Why couldn't you just learn your fucking place already?

You're their slut!

Maybe if they beat some sense into you, you'd learn that.

"Get up."

You don't move, staying curled up at Whitney's feet where they left you.

"I said, get up!"

They kick you. Not hard. Not like they had been just a few moments ago. Just enough to make you turn over.

Their heart sinks.

You're unconscious.

They hadn't meant to do that. They wanted to rough you up, teach you your place at their feet. Not give you brain damage or something!

They hesitate for a moment, considering their options, before swearing and pulling out their phone.

Whitney might not always think things through, but they're not stupid. They don't want to make things worse.

They're gone before the ambulance arrives.

Whitney's not likely to visit you in the hospital, at least not during the day. The place makes their skin crawl. They might sneak in at night, but they're more likely to slip into your room at the orphanage.

They're just bored, what with their favorite toy down for the count. It's definitely not guilt that drives them to climb through your window day after day.

Wren

It's late on Remy's estate, and Wren is tired. They've been running around all day.

Doesn't help that Remy decided to have Wren help out on the farm. Wren's a smuggler, not a farmhand. But it's easier to do what Remy wants, better to stay on their good side.

They're tired, worn out, nerves frayed to hell. That's why they're so on edge, why they jump when the cottage door opens when they know all their friends are already inside.

Why they draw their gun, why they point it at the door.

Why they fumble it.

Why it goes off right as you step in.

Oh fuck.

They didn't mean to, holy shit, they did not mean to shoot you, they swear!

At least they only shot you in the leg?

Oh, god, yeah, yeah they'll shut up and get you to a doctor, yeah.

Wren is panicking.

Wren offers to take you home when you get discharged. They can't really take care of you. They're terrible at taking care of others and their job won't allow them to really be at your beck and call.

If you want Wren to take care of you themself, your need to tell them about the orphanage and what it's like. If they think you'll be in danger while trying to recover, they'll offer to let you stay with them.

#alex the farmhand #avery the businessperson #whitney the bully #kylar the loner #sydney the faithful #eden the hunter #robin the orphan #wren the smuggler #tw noncon #tw alcohol #tw abuse #tw choking #idk if i like syd's but eh #edit: spelling

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fnaf-a-palooza · 3 years

Note

May we get some bear yanderes please? Classic Freddy, Twisted Freddy, CTW Freddy, Glamrock Freddy, and Withered Freddy? If these haven't changed, then could you just copy and paste? Thank ya! I know I'm an asshole I'm sorry

I'll only be doing Classic and Withered Freddy (adding Toy Freddy, Golden Freddy, and Lefty) because I don't know much about CTW or Twisted Freddy at all (haven't read the books, sorry ;-; I need to get on that). Rockstar Freddy, Glamrock Freddy, and Funtime Freddy have already been written for. If you'd like hcs for Nedbear, Fredbear, and Helpy, feel free to request! Also, you're all good! ^^ No need to apologize.

Warning: Yandere Themes

Freddy is a patient yandere, who will wait for his chance to pursue you. Due to his careful steps in inserting himself into your life, he doesn't really see a need to kidnap you. He's a friendly man, who you've grown to like over the course of time. You may not even notice his yandere tendencies at all or the way he narrows his eyes at those who bother you. Freddy becomes someone you can come to for support or vent to. He's an astounding listener and wonderful at comforting you—and that is what he wants. It's not an act. This is all genuine since he loves you deeply and wants you to feel comfortable around him. Freddy is aware of the unhealthy feelings he's experiencing, but he can work with that. The yandere tendencies are kept to a minimum as he reminds himself in due time that you'll be his. I mean, who else could make you this happy? It's hard to come across people like him who are kind to you out of the good in their heart and not for selfish gain... So why don't you just choose him?

Unlike original Freddy, Withered Freddy is not as patient when it comes to his darling and is an extremely possessive yandere. He's upset and oh so lonely to the point where he deeply craves affection. Though, he won't outright admit it unless pushed to answer. There is no planning on his part and is mostly stalking and watching your every move. You've caught his interest and now he wants to know why. The more he watches, the more he gets attached. When he gets attached is when he'll get more impatient. His actions are not always thoroughly thought out and mostly taken in the moment, which can lead to some inconveniences whether on his or your end. One of these inconveniences would be the consequences of him just kidnapping you with no second thought. Freddy has waited too long. Now lays the repercussions since he did just pick you off out of nowhere while you were alone. Still, he'll manage and try to take things smoothly as he tells you that you won't be leaving anytime soon.

Honestly couldn't believe something like this would happen, but Golden Freddy isn't complaining too much. Sadly though, you won't know much about him until he either reveals himself to you or the two of you stumble upon each other. 'Till then, he carefully watches you and occasionally assists you should you need it. Notes are posts here and there for you; informing you about certain things about the pizzeria such as the quietest places to take break or helpful tips. These do also serve as reminders to take care of yourself. Golden Freddy doesn't like to keep things like this, but there's a nagging fear on how you'd react to him. It does irk him how he can't be with you in person and others can. He hates this intense feeling of bitterness towards those who can spend time with you. This just conflicts with the mindset that he doesn't deserve you at all, but he just can't keep himself away. No matter how much he says so. Still, of course you will grow to wonder who this mysterious stranger was and start to investigate. Golden Freddy takes this chance to lure you—it's become too much to wait any longer.

With insecurities like him, I'd say Toy Freddy is a clingy and smothering yandere. He's the leader of his crew, but not the boss—which the title is reserved for a certain puppet. T. Freddy is aware of that and painfully aware that he is not very intimidating. More so... Soft. He hates that. So when he gains an obsession towards you, he absolutely wants to make a great impression on you; to be someone you can rely on. He gives a helping hand when you need it, which is nice. However, it soon becomes slightly annoying when he starts insisting on assisting you with almost everything. You voice this out to him, and you feel a bit guilty at his hurt expression. T. Freddy just wants you to always seek his help. He wants to be useful and the shoulder you can lean on. Hearing that he's annoying really hurts his heart. Was it too much? He's very sorry. He'll try again; do better next time. As a yandere, T. Freddy doesn't pin blame on others for why you'd do this; he knows it's him. However, the thing with that is he won't believe his behavior is unhealthy. It's the delusional part that does it.

It starts of with curiosity and interest until Lefty notices that it's becoming something more. This interest in you will soon develop and he'll more of an obsessive yandere in the long run. Again, he actually notices that all this is unraveling, but for some reason he just watches as it does. You've brought this about in him and he wants to relish in it. Lefty has come to hang off every word you say and cherish the moments you share together. You don't mind his tendencies to having his mind wander and bring him back down gently. He feels like you treat him like he's normal and not a nuisance, lost cause, or just a waste of potential. However, it gets irritable to hear that others are close to you as well. Lefty wishes he didn't have to experience this sort of pain, but it just happens. He knows that there will be other people, but sometimes he just wants to be the only person you turn your attention to. It sounds selfish, he admits, but he can't help it. If they so arrogantly believe they can just keep you to themselves... He'll just have to take matters in his own hands.

#fnaf x reader #fnaf imagines #yandere fnaf #yandere fnaf x reader #yandere freddy fazbear #yandere withered freddy #yandere golden freddy #yandere toy freddy #yandere lefty #human fnaf

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sapphireplums · 3 years

Text

𝐌𝐲 𝐃𝐨𝐥𝐥 -𝟑-

。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 / 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨

Description: When Bucky Barnes is captured by HYDRA, his life has one meaning: being a weapon. But what happens when HYDRA kidnaps a little girl for them to experiment on? Will he grow fond of the child? Or will he just ignore her and follow the orders of his handlers?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Daughter!Reader / Child!reader

Warnings: angst, some fluff, the murder of the stark's.

Word count: 1.6k

Author’s note: I genuinely apologize for the lack of updating this series, but here we are! Hope you all enjoy this chapter.

Even though Y/n has been on many missions with her papa, she had a bad feeling about this one for some reason.

She couldn’t point it out, but she just knew.

Bucky kept his eyes focused, trying to find the car that he was supposed to assassinate.

He felt a cold gust of wind go over him, not even letting it bother him. The Winter Soldier saw that Y/n was shivering, so he put her closer into his flesh arm, hoping to keep her warm.

“Thank you, papa.”

“Of course, babydoll.”

Y/n started to feel sleepy, so she buried her head near the soldier's shoulder and cuddled as he put his right arm comfortably around her.

“Get some rest, my angel,” the Winter Soldier said in a soft, fatherly tone.

Y/n nodded her head and placed her head back in her father's shoulder

· 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

After what felt like minutes, Y/n was woken up abruptly by the sounds of the Winter Soldier's motorcycle revving.

“Papa, where are we going?” Y/n asked confused and tiredly.

“Don’t speak, doll,” the soldier said quietly and sternly.

He started to chase closely behind the car that drove in front of him.

He clipped the car and it started to swerve out of control until it finally hit a pole, clearly damaging the car and the people inside.

Y/n stared at the damaged car, seeing the two older people in it. Their faces had blood on them and Y/n’s heart slightly dropped at the sight of them. Blood was not really a part of Y/n’s forte and it made her slightly lightheaded.

The Winter Soldier got off of the motorbike, gently placing Y/n down on the seat. He walked up to the older man and grabbed him by his hair, making him wince in pain.

“Sergeant Barnes?” A hint of Bucky came back in the Winter Soldier’s mind, but that quickly faded away when he remembered what his mission was.

Extract. No witnesses.

The Winter Soldier repeatedly hit Howard Stark in the face, knocking him unconscious.

Y/n covered her eyes with her tiny feeble hands, hearing the cries of the people in front of her. The soldier started to go to the other side of the car, but this time, Y/n ran to his side pleadingly.

Кукла, что ты здесь делаешь? Вернитесь к байку.

Doll, what are you doing here? Go back to the bike.

Y/n shook her head no and proceeded to stay in her place. The soldier sighed and carried her back to the bike.

In his arms, Y/n turned to see the woman giving her a small smile. So small it was almost invisible.

Если я не завершу эту миссию, они причинят вред не только мне, но и тебе.

"If I don't complete this mission, they won't only hurt me, but you. I don't want that to happen."

“Don’t hurt her, papa.” The voice of Y/n made the Winter Soldier's heart drop, but he knew he had to complete his mission to please his handlers.

He placed Y/n back on the chair then went back to complete his mission, executing the couple swiftly and emotionlessly.

Grabbing the woman’s neck, the Winter Soldier killed her by asphyxiation.

He put the woman back in the car then went to the back trunk to grab a suitcase filled with over a dozen blue super-soldier serums.

He grabbed the suitcase then proceeded to strap it on the back of the bike, making a curious Y/n look at him.

The Winter Soldier looked at the child and smiled slightly which was something he rarely ever did, considering the life he has to go through, but Y/n made it more manageable for him.

“What are you looking at, papa?” Y/n smiled widely, admiring her father figure.

“Nothing, come on, let’s go.” Bucky put Y/n back on the bike and sped away back to the HYDRA base.

· 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Back at the HYDRA base, Y/n was shaking in fear and grabbed her father’s pant leg tightly, digging her dirty fingernails in it.

“Mission report.” Karpov stood in front of the soldier, glancing at him to get an answer. Y/n has always been scared of the man and the Winter Soldier noticed her body tensing up. He picked her up gently and buried her head in his shoulder, refraining Y/n from looking at Karpov any longer.

“Убит, свидетелей нет.“

“Killed, no witnesses.”

Karpov nodded his head in approval and then talked to the other doctors there to examine the Winter Soldier's arm, fixing any technical difficulties it had.

For the first time in a while, Y/n was able to feel some sort of peace as she was resting her head on the Winter Soldiers chest. Her heartbeat was starting to slow down peacefully, almost falling asleep.

The small child soon fell asleep on the Winter Soldier's chest not too long after, making him feel like a part of hope was still alive.

He wished that someday, and hopefully soon, he and Y/n were able to finally escape this hell hole.

But that was too much of a risk, knowing his handlers will kill him and worse, Y/n.

He cared too much to let this happen to his precious daughter.

One of the doctors that were working on the Winter Soldier’s arm, was about to pick up the sleeping child to let him examine any other cuts on his body. However, the Winter Soldier quickly noticed and swiftly grabbed the doctor's hand, refraining him any further from letting the stranger touch his daughter.

“Не трогай ее. Оставь ее там.”

“Do not touch her. Leave her there.”

Being notoriously frightened by the Winter Soldier, the doctor vigorously nodded his head and proceeded to leave the child on his chest.

The Winter Soldier turned his hard glare away from the doctor and once his eyes landed on Y/n, his mood immediately became brighter.

Smiling at his sleeping child, the Winter Soldier kissed Y/n’s head slightly, careful to not wake her up.

“Спи спокойно, мой ангел.”

“Sleep well, my angel.”

· 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟗 𝐇𝐘𝐃𝐑𝐀 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞

After the moment back in 1991 where the Winter Soldier completed his mission, he and Y/n were pretty much immediately put back into cryo freeze.

For over 18 years, Y/n hasn't seen her papa, until now, where she felt the recognizable sensation of the fresh air flowing through her chamber as it opened.

Fluttering her eyes open, Y/n saw her father, fighting and breathing furiously as he took out several guards that were trying to calm him down.

"Где она?! Где мой ребенок ?! "

“Where is she?! Where’s my child?!”

Y/n ignored the doctors that were trying to help her down and immediately ran to her father.

“Papa! Papa! I’m here! I”m here!”

The Winter Soldier whipped his head, finally calming down at the voice of his daughter. Y/n jumped in the Winter Soldier's arms, immediately comforted by her father.

“I see your deep care for the child.” Y/n and the Winter Soldier turned their heads to the unfamiliar voice. Even though Y/n just met this man, she could tell he was not a good guy and he was higher in power.

The Winter Soldier stayed silent and attempted to hold his daughter tightly, protecting her at any costs.

“Sorry, let me introduce myself. I’m Alexander Pierce and I will be your new handler since Karpov is older and retired.” The Winter Soldier loosened his grip slightly on Y/n, but still firm enough to protect her, not fully trusting this man yet.

Pierce diverted his vision from the soldier to the little girl in his hands. He smiled devilishly, which made Y/n put her head back on her father's shoulders.

"Do you really take out the child to missions?" The Winter Soldier stared at the man for a while before nodding his head slightly. Pierce chucked darkly then went off to talk to the other HYDRA agents, leaving the pair alone in the eyes of the guards.

"Papa, do we have to kill other people?" The Winter Soldier looked at his daughter with slight sympathy before answering.

"Да, кукла."

"Yes, we do, doll."

Y/n just nodded her head, sad that other innocent people have to die just because HYDRA thought they were a threat.

"What if they-". Y/n started to make fighting and implosion motions with her hands, indicating that the Winter Soldier would have to get hurt during these missions.

"Не волнуйся, куколка, я сильнее этих людей."

"Don't worry, doll, I am stronger than those people."

Y/n knew her father was strong, but there were still times where she was petrified of the thought of the soldier dying. She just couldn't think of that thought.

On the other hand, the Winter Soldier mentally promised himself that he will stay alive and obey his orders, only for Y/n and to hopefully escape the hands of HYDRA one day.

The sound of dress shoes clicking on the hard cement floor grabbed the attention of the pair.

"Soldier, good news, you and your...pet have a new mission." The Winter Soldier wanted to rip the man's throat out for calling his daughter a 'pet', but that was suicide when they were in the hands of HYDRA.

Pierce handed the soldier a new file which he skimmed quickly due to his enhanced diligence. Curious about what the file read, Y/n slightly looked towards the files, not reading much except for the words 'nuclear' and 'engineer'.

"Assassinate the engineer. No witnesses." Closing the files, the soldier picked up his daughter, her hands caressing his neck, and started to walk to a room where they would get their gear to get ready for a mission.

Just another normal day of killing people, Y/n thought to herself. But little did the child know, a certain Russian red-head will change her life forever.

please like, comment, and reblog!!

𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

@lunaticbarnes @mo-onstarrs @tvckerlance @wastefulsushi @peachyprincessss @soldier-42 @rachaelswrites @smileyishere92 @bonkybarnes107 @appaair @that-gurl-who-rants @spookybooisa @obsessedfangirl101 @cipheress-to-k-pop @illyrianprincess @play-morezeppelin @emo-space-tea @amonrawya @leilonely

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒

@tvckerlance @lozzypoz321 @princess-evans-addict @rebellious-desires @amelietheslut @captain-america-is-bae

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

@beverlyparkerr @mischiefsemimanaged @bonkybarnes107 @appaair @martellsmultis @tomhollandsstan @spookybooisa @salty—bones @sylvie-writes

#bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky imagine #bucky barnes x daughter!reader #bucky barnes x daughter #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #tfatws #winter soldier

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