#you could hit him with a truck and he would apologize to you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blakeswritingimagines · 2 months

Text

I'm A Project Baby *SMUT*

Summary: During the heat of the moment, you both forget about your initial disagreement and focus solely on pleasuring each other.

Warnings: Angry sex, Wall sex, Unprotected sex, Make-up sex, Fem reader, Teasing if you squint, fluff at the end!

Word Count: 2.8k

Little things had been adding up, especially during the busy hockey season. It started on a Friday evening. Juraj had just gotten home from work and you were watching TV. You seemed distracted and didn't respond to his attempts to make conversation. He got annoyed and snapped at you. "Or just don't listen too, that works so well." You listened to his words carefully, your face remained stoic and quiet. You take a deep breath before slowly exhaling from your nose, you then look up at him directly into his eyes, clearing your throat, and speaking, her voice calm but firm as you give the attitude right back at him. "Perhaps I would be more interested in having a conversation if it was actually… you know… stimulating." Rolling his eyes with a scoff. "You know, perhaps I would be willing to put in more of an effort if I wasn't exhausted coming home from work. Maybe you could try to empathize with me, just a little." He started walking over to the shared bedroom, while he talked just so he could change into more comfortable clothes before coming back. "Oh, right, because you're the only one who works," you say sarcastically, rolling your eyes. "Perhaps you should stop whining and act like a proper adult."

You both started arguing about nothing in particular and even though he knew it was petty, It got heated quickly. You kept going at each other and saying hurtful things that you didn't mean. Things felt really tense and you both started to feel overwhelmed. It was a fight that just kept building up. "You're so stupid, you shouldn't even open your mouth." He spoke as he rolled his eyes and started to walk away again. You took a step forward, blocking the way. "You are not going anywhere. This argument is not finished." You listened to every word, and your smile slowly faded into anger. You clenched your fists, your face becoming hard. You flinched visibly, your teeth clenched together in a grimace. After a moment you looked at Juraj with a cold stare, your heart beating quickly "You take that back."

You caught Juraj off guard. The words hit him like a truck, the look of contempt and anger on your face shook him. He backed away, not willing to take a step forward again. The words you said hit him hard, he regretted calling you stupid, and he regretted that stupid fight. He wanted to say something back but he didn't know what. His mouth was dry and his throat had become tight. He wanted to apologize but he also wanted to walk away, he couldn't bear looking at your face right now - such a strong display of emotions left him speechless. Juraj looks stunned. He stares at you for a moment, unsure what to do. He feels a sudden rush of fear and anger. "You heard me." He clenches his fists, his voice tightening. "I'm not taking anything back." He raised his eyebrows and glanced at you with eyes slightly narrowed, his expression neutral. "I take nothing back. As a matter of fact, I stand behind every single word I have said." He stares at you, eyes narrowing. His body trembles, anger coursing through his veins.

You and Juraj stared hard at each other, neither willing to be the first to back down. The tension hung heavily in the air, both of your breath's coming in short gasps. Your lips pressed together tightly, your eyes narrowing further as you met Juraj's gaze. The anger in his eyes threatened to burn the whole place down. The two felt a sudden rush of anxiety and fear, neither knowing what was going to happen next. As you watched each other with cold intensity. You had never been so angry at him before, and your expression scared him a bit. He looked away, realizing that he had gone too far. "Just leave me alone." his voice was laced with frustration and anger. You walked up to him and grabbed his arm, your tone full of intensity. "Apologize." You squeezed your fingers around his forearm and didn't let go. He stared down at your hand gripped around my arm, his face set into a scowl. "No." He tried to yank his arm free of your grasp, but your grip was tight. He grits his teeth and looked down at you, an air of anger radiating from his whole body. "Why should I apologize? If you want me to apologize, then you should apologize first." He looked away from you, his frustration growing hotter by the second. He can't believe how angry he had become. All of this over a stupid argument.

It started out over nothing. Just a silly argument. Neither of you would back down, and things just escalated. The tension between you rose until it felt like you were drowning in a sea of anger and hurt feelings. You didn't know what to say to smooth things over, and you both felt more hurt with each passing moment. It was like you had dug yourselves into a deep hole, and couldn't climb back out. Your rage increased as his attempt to break free failed. You were not going to let him or this go. He couldn't just walk away from this fight. Your eyes flashed fire before you spoke in a low whisper "You should apologize because you hurt my feelings. I'm willing to forgive you," your eyes narrowed. "But only if you're sorry."

He looked down at the floor, unable to meet your eyes. Something inside him softens, but he's too angry to let it show. This argument has gone on too long, and his anger has only flared up hotter. Why can't either of us just leave the other alone? The thought of walking away again crosses his mind, but knowing he can't let this go. Not yet. He looked back at you, his face softening. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry I hurt your feelings." "I think I need you to prove it." Your eyes burn with intensity as you stare right back at him. You swallowed hard, your breath coming in short gasps. You felt your heart pounding in your chest and your hands shaking by your sides. You wanted to pull away but at the same time didn't want to. The attraction you felt for him was overwhelming and you can't help but want more from him. Your mischievous grin teases the imagination. You watched, your eyes widening with anticipation.

He had let out a chuckle at your response, knowing that you were now fully invested in the little power struggle "Oh really? You want me to grovel for your forgiveness? That's a bit much don't you think?" His voice drops even lower, and he moves closer to you so that you are almost nose to nose "Maybe I should show you just how sorry I am to you." He gave you a wicked grin and licked his lips, teasing you with the idea of what might happen next. Your eyes flared up again with anger, but this time it was mixed with a hint of arousal as well. You felt your heart racing faster than ever before, and you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second. You didn't know why, but you found yourself completely turned on by the situation "Show me how sorry you really are." Your breath was heavy as you spoke, and you couldn't help but lick your lips nervously.

He smirked and nodded, acknowledging the challenge. Feeling desperate to be allowed inside of you now after everything. He reached down and grabbed onto your hips firmly, pulling you close so that your bodies were pressed together tightly. His hands roamed over your body, exploring every curve and dip while maintaining a dominant grip on you. "Alright then, here's how sorry I am." He leaned in and kissed you deeply, taking control of the kiss and showing you who was in charge. As you continue to kiss passionately, he reached around and started massaging your ass cheeks firmly, making sure you can feel every stroke of his fingers digging into your flesh. His tongue eagerly explores every corner of your mouth as he deepens the kiss further. You both can taste the anger and desire mingling together as your tongues dance together in perfect harmony. As the kiss goes on, he can feel your body responding to his touch, becoming more pliant and submissive with each passing moment. "Mmm... There we go, sweetheart... Letting all that anger out makes you taste so damn good..." As he says this, he started to slide his hand down between into your pants and began to massage your clit through your pants.

The combination of the intense kiss and the stimulation on your clit left you unable to think straight. You moaned into the kiss as you felt yourself getting wetter by the second. You couldn't believe you were allowing this to happen when a fight was just happening, but you found yourself unable to resist. "Fuck… Yes…" Juraj heard you saying between gasps for air as you gave into the pleasure of the moment. As the kiss continued, you could feel your heart racing faster than ever before. You could also feel the pressure building up between your thighs as you began to squirm uncontrollably. You knew that you needed relief, and you hoped that Juraj would be able to provide it for you. "Mmm... Look at you all ready for me like this... So fucking perfect..." He continued to kiss you deeply, and his fingers continued to stroke your clit, feeling the heat radiating off of your sensitive skin. He can hear your soft moans and whimpers filling the room, and it only serves to fuel his own desires.

As he pulled back slightly from the kiss, he looked deep into your eyes and spoke with an authoritative tone "Now who's the one begging?" He asked with a smirk on his face, knowing that he had complete control over the moment at this point. "Tell me what you want, sweetheart. Tell me how bad you need my cock right now." You looked at him with a mix of anger and desire in your eyes as you spoke through heavy breaths "Fuck… I need your cock… I need it deep… I need to feel it stretching me… I need to feel it throbbing inside of me…" You said between gasps for air, unable to contain your lust any longer. The thought of being completely under Juraj's control excited you more than anything else you had ever experienced before. "Please… Give me your cock… Make me yours…"

He chuckled at your response, loving the fact that he had brought you to such a vulnerable state. His cock throbs against his pants, eager to be released and buried deep within you. He reached down and undid his belt buckle, quickly pulling down his pants and boxers before stepping out of them completely. His massive erection springs free. He reached down and started undoing the buttons on your pants, working quickly to get them open so that he can reveal your bare pussy beneath. Once they were open, he pushed them down along with your underwear, leaving you completely exposed to him. "There we go... Nice and ready for me." He said with a satisfied grunt as he admired your wet pussy for a moment before pressing you against a wall and positioning himself at her entrance. He slid one finger inside of you slowly, teasing your tight walls with gentle strokes while looking deep into your eyes. "You're so fucking beautiful when you're like this."

He pulled his finger out feeling like he couldn't take anymore and grasped onto the base of his cock, and guided it towards your entrance slowly, savoring every moment of anticipation. "Alright, sweetheart. Here comes my dick. Are you ready for it?" He asked teasingly, watching as you looked up at him with wide eyes filled with both excitement. "Yes… Fuck me… Deep and hard…" You whispered between labored breaths as you watched him position himself. The anticipation of finally feeling his cock fill you up sent shivers down your spine, and you can't help but squirm with impatience. "Yes… Fuck me…" He smiled at the request, and with a slow, deliberate motion he pushed his hips against your dripping entrance, feeling the heat envelop him as he prepared to enter you. He paused for a moment, savoring the sensation of being surrounded by your warmth and slickness before finally pushing inside of you with one swift motion. "There we go... Enjoying the feeling?" He asked rhetorically as he began to thrust into your tight, wet depths. He can feel the tight grip of your inner muscles wrap around him, pulling him deeper into your body with each stroke.

"Make me yours…" You whispered between gasps for air as you looked up at him with an expression of both neediness in your eyes. "Always been mine, love. Always will be." He said as he pushed inside of you with one final thrust, the feeling of you wrapped around his cock like a glove sent a surge of pleasure through his entire body. "Mmm... Fuck... This feels so good..." You let out a loud moan as he continued to push inside of you, feeling his thick length filling you up completely. You gasp for air between labored breaths. Despite everything that has happened between you both, you can't deny the way that his presence seems to bring out a primal desire within you so easily. As he started to move against you, driving himself deeper into you with each thrust, "Yours… All yours… Just take me… Please…" You begged, "Fuck…" You moan loudly, losing yourself in the moment and finding it difficult to maintain any sense of control or resistance.

He let out a low growl as he felt your walls tighten around him, signaling that you were fully embracing the sensations he was providing you with. He can see the pleasure etched onto your face, and it only serves to fuel his own desire. "Mmm... Yours... All mine..." He said with a grunt as he picked up the pace of his thrusts, slamming into you over and over again. He could feel his cock throbbing inside of you, desperate to unload his cum deep within you. He let out a long groan as he felt his orgasm building up inside of him. He knew that he wouldn't be able to hold back much longer. "Close... So close..." He said as he increased the speed of his thrusts more, wanting nothing more than to fill you with his cum and mark you as his forever. "Gonna fill that little cunny up until there's no room left for anything else..." He said as he felt the first hot streams of precum dripping from the tip of his cock.

He knew that soon he would be unloading inside of you. "Always yours... Forever..." As you felt the first waves of your orgasm crash over you, you couldn't help but let out a long, drawn-out moan. Your body shook slightly as you rode out the intense pleasure. The thought of being filled with his cum sent shivers down your spine, and you knew that you would never be able to forget this moment. "Cum inside of me… Mark me as yours…" You whispered between gasps for air, arching your back as you rode out the waves of pleasure. "Oh god… I'm cumming…Please…" A wave of satisfaction rushes through him after you're done. His body was still trembling from the rush of adrenalin and emotions. He looked at you, smiling. You're both satisfied and content. Your bodies are still pressed together, your breathing heavy and quick. The intensity of the moment is still there, lingering in the air. He reached and started to caress your cheek, his large hand was soft and gentle. He looked into your eyes and smiled softly before softly whispering. "I'm sorry…for real this time."

You gaze up at him as he caressed your cheek, your eyes softening with pleasure at the touch. You feel a flutter of excitement in your heart and close your eyes, enjoying the sensation even more. As he whispered sorry to you, the intensity of the moment grew warmer. Leaning forward and pressed your lips against his, savoring the moment as you breathed in his scent. The intensity of the moment only grew as your bodies pressed closer together. You inhaled sharply through your nose. Your heartbeat sounded in your ears as you looked at him now more shyly. Your eyes met, and your breath caught in your chest as the intimacy between you was palpable. "I love you."

He nodded lightly as you pressed your lips against his. The intensity and passion between you both fill the empty space, your skin soft and smooth. His heartbeat pulsing loudly in his ears. He looked into your eyes and smiled gently, taking in your beauty. You're not only beautiful on the outside, but on the inside as well. "I love you too." He spoke tenderly before leaning in again, kissing you softly. His love for you is undeniable.

#juraj slafkovsky x reader #juraj slafkovsky #montreal canadiens #nhl smut #nhl fic #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl #juraj slafkovsky fic #juraj slafkovsky imagine #juraj slafkovsky smut #juraj slafkovsky blurb #juraj slafkovsky one shot

237 notes · View notes

wildemaven · 6 months

Text

he makes life better | joel miller

-> pairing: no outbreak!joel miller x reader

-> word count: 1335

-> content warning: 18+ blog; bad day, annoyed with work, dealing with flat tire, joel being sweet, lots of fluff

-> note: this is for my sweet friend @gnpwdrnwhiskey hoping this brings a smile to her face 💞 this isn’t beta’d either so it’s probably filled with mistakes lol.

masterlist

Joel ❤️: How’s your day going Honey?

I’m so ready for my shift to be over. I’d rather read the dictionary, front to back, than deal with the shit they have me doing today.

RING

“That bad, huh?” Joel’s voice brings you an instant smile when you answer his call, silently stepping away from the mess that you were dealing with at work.

“You have no idea. It already feels like it’s been the longest week, today has just added to the shit show life keeps throwin’ at me lately. Went to leave for work this morning and I had a flat tire. Ugh! I’m sorry for complaining.” You vent to him, tucking yourself in a secluded corner. You were going against policy by taking a personal call while on the clock, but you didn’t care about company policy or the outcome of you were to get caught at the moment— Joel was your only focus right now.

“Hey, none of that. Don’t apologize for being stressed. Why didn’t ya call me ‘bout your tire?” Joel asked.

You know he would’ve dropped everything the minute did call him, which is also why you didn’t. He had been stressing over starting at a new job site, one of the biggest ones he had been hired for. The last thing you wanted was to add to his already busy day of things he had to deal with.

“You’d already left for work and had that new job you’ve been talkin’ about. Didn’t wanna bother you with it. I called AAA and had them put the spare on for me so I could drop it off at the tire shop. Now, I’m unexpectedly the owner of 4 new tires.”

“I don’t care how busy I am— you need something, you call me, no matter what. Got that, Honey?”

“Got it, Joel. Thank you.” You smile into the phone at his concern for you, always finding ways to make you fall even deeper in love with him.

“Good. Hey, I gotta go. Tommy looks like he’s about ready to break his back. I should probably go help him before he actually does and my insurance takes a hit. I’ll see ya tonight then, sweetheart?”

“Yeah. I should be outta here in 3 hours.” The end to your long shift, almost over.

“That sounds great! I love you, Honey. I’ll see ya later.” You can faintly hear Tommy cursing in the background.

“Love you too, Joel.” You tell him before the line goes dead. Giving yourself a few minutes of quiet before heading back to join your team and the never ending line of customers.

The rest of your shift goes by fairly quickly. Joel’s phone call must have been just the moral boost you needed to sprinkle a little bit of extra positivity into your day.

The minute the clock hit 5 pm, you wasted no time clocking out and logging out of your computer for the day. Deliberately bypassing your usual exit path to avoid any chatty coworkers, Joel and home your main focus of the rest of your day, you weren’t going to waste any time stuck in drawn out conversations.

Your purse thrown over your shoulder, work apron crumpled in one hand and the other holding your empty tumbler that once held the warm delicious coffee you had hoped would sustain you through the day, now wishing it was filled with something a little stronger to help you unwind when you got home.

It’s a struggle trying to juggle your things as you search for your keys, lost somewhere in the depths of your purse along with the rest of your life's necessities. You pause in the middle of an empty parking space near where your jeep is parked to give the search your full attention. After some thorough digging, you locate your keys and let out an exasperated sigh, one step closer to being home.

Taking a step forward as you press the unlock button on your key, you look up to see an unexpected sight. A familiar truck in the parking spot next to yours, and the most handsome man leaning on it. He looks like he came straight from the job sight, too. His peppered grey hair disheveled, but his soft curls were still intact even after a long day. The sleeves of your favorite green flannel are rolled up over his flexed forearms that are crossed against his chest, the fabric stretched over his broad shoulders.

The sight of him is enough to melt away any of the bullshit you had endured over the past week, a completely welcomed surprise.

“What are you doing here?” You ask him, letting your feet carry you the rest of the way to him.

“Heard you were havin’ a shitty day. Couldn’t let my lady end it on a bad note.” He croons, pushing himself off the side of his truck, opening his arms to you.

You melt into him, your face nestled into his shoulder. His rugged scent of musky vanilla and natural pheromones is permanently infused into the fibers of his shirt, it’s your favorite thing ever. His strong arms wrap around you as he presses a soft kiss to your temple, prompting you to straighten up, looking into his amber eyes.

“Hi, Cowboy.” You beam at him.

“Hi.” He says, leaning in to gently mold his lips over yours. “I’ve got a surprise for ya, Honey.”

“This was enough of a surprise for me. What more could I need?” Stealing another kiss from him.

“If I tell ya, it won’t be a surprise then, will it?” He says, tilting his head slightly as he looks at you.

“I guess you have a point.”

“We’ve gotta get going though, it’s time sensitive.” He grabs for your things and walks you around to the passenger door, holding it open as you climb in. “We’ll grab your jeep in the mornin’, if that’s okay with you?”

“Whatever you say, Cowboy.” He leans back in for another kiss, before making his way around into the driver’s seat.

The drive isn’t long. Down some familiar roads that lead to a dirt one off the main highway. His truck travels down the gravel road lined with a barbed wire fence. After a few minutes he’s pulling off to the side and killing the engine.

“You brought me to my favorite place.” Looking over to his side of the truck, where he’s already looking in your direction. Your heart grows at how he thought to bring you here, knowing how much joy it brings you every time.

“Thought you could use it. Look, here they come.” He says pointing to your window.

Off in the distance, the small herd of cows were in pursuit of their evening meal and water break. Mamas with their little rambunctious calves trailing behind, trekking along the same path they travel each evening.

It’s a calming sight. Their heads bobbling with each dramatic step. Tails whipping over their rear ends to swat away the annoying flies. A few stopping mid trek to look in your direction, letting out a long drawn out moo. Their friendly hello, it’s good to see you again, then back on the move.

The sky is painted in pinks and purples as the sun dips below the horizon. Your day feeling less shitty as you sit silently in the cab of Joel’s truck. His hand resting on your thigh while his thumb draws soft circles over thick denim seam.

“Thank you for this. Didn’t realize how much I needed it. I love you, Joel.” You tell him, rolling your head over the headrest in his direction.

“I did it because I love you, Honey. And s’what I’m here for.” There’s a low rumble in the air as he turns the key over, shifting the truck into drive. “Now, how ‘bouts we head on home and I spend the rest of the evenin’ show you all the other ways I love you?”

“Take me home, Cowboy.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us au #no outbreak!joel miller #TLOU #pedro pascal #pedrostories #wildemaven writes

442 notes · View notes

ixiot-ghostrebel · 8 months

Note

playing fontaine made me really want to introduce freminet and neuvillette because i think they would be good friends. could you write a little sagau drabble thing about introducing them?

No problem, anon! Thank you so much for requesting!

Having Neuvillette and Freminet Meet!

(Warning: May be OOC & Slight Use of Speculation/Theory on Behalf of Neuvillette!)

You were chilling around in Fontaine, when suddenly the idea of having Freminet and Neuvillette hits you as powerful as Truck-Kun smashing into you hard.

So, with the encouragement of Furina, and legal agreement on behalf of Freminet's part (you asked Lyney and Lynette), you have managed to arrange a small lunch meetup between the two. And, to be honest, you were the only one doibg most of the talking. You can't help but feel like this was going to be an awkward, sunny day....

Freminet

There's a lot to say. He's really blessed and lucky to have time to get to know you and all...but he's not really good with social interactions.

And then you brought Neuvillette into the picture. This boy's brain melts almost instantly. He's trying his best to stay put and hold on, but it's safe to say he isn't sure how this will turn out.

"U-uhm..." Freminet can barely form a word without panicking if it will come out as something suspicious in front of the Chief Justice, no matter how much you and Neuvillette reassure him.

He does end up trying to talk to Neuvillette, but it's still awkward. Nevertheless, it was a start! Good job, Freminet!

Neuvillette

Hydro dragon, hydro dragon...isn't crying? Huh—it seems yoyr invitation to hang out at lunch hour made the stoic man hapoy, even if he refuses to let it show.

He wasn't expecting a young boy to also be joining, but he tries his best to make himself approachable. Though his efforts are a little fruitless, it was still a pleasant chat.

When the young boy, Freminet, finally does speak up and try to talk to him, Neuvillette can't help but smile. In a sense, they were pretty similar.

"I apologize if I have brought any discomfort to you, Mr. Freminet, but I do have a question—promoted by Their Grace. As a diver, what have you seen in Fontaine's waters?" He does try his best to start a few conversations via your help, but they usually end short as Neuvillette isn't sure what else to add. Also, he apologizes a little too much everytime he speaks to Freminet, so make you maintain both the nerves and the apologies on the table!"

And that's it! Sorry if this is a little short—I couldn't find anything else to write about lol—

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: N/A

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

647 notes · View notes

batfleshh · 6 months

Note

PLSSSS I LOVE THE SOAP X M!HYBRID! READER!!

Could you write another one one???

🥹

(Some tea, or coffee or whatever you prefer you deserve it 🍵, ☕️, 🧃 🥤)

More Soap x M!Dog Hybrid!reader

Implied continuation of this

Warnings: nsfw, life is kicking your ass, muzzles, and gay stuff, and this is kind of short

★ the events off the week that have led up to where you are currently at now:

★ On that Monday, it was supposed to be a fresh start. You had made sure the night before you would be ready to work hard that day, being ready for any mission, task, or person that would be thrown at you throughout the week. Well that’s what you told yourself, but the way you had unintentionally slammed your own tail in the door that morning made you aware this week was going to be rough.

★ The pain eventually faded, but then it led to your hair not cooperating. So when you walked out to start your day, you felt like you looked dumb. You tried to blow off steam throughout the day, sparring with other recruits and chatting it up with everyone. You had to fill out something for the captain, but you ended up getting something wrong, leading to you being chewed out. You understood why, but it was still kind of irritating.

★ During dinner, you sat a little off to the side, Soap sitting around with the others. You didn’t wanna make a fuss about it, considering you knew, who they were. But you still felt the smallest pang of jealousy. That night when you went to clean yourself up, you ended up slamming your tail in another door, a yelp leaving your lips as the pain hit you like a truck. When you were done, you finally laid down to sleep, not being able to until the early hours of the morning. It felt like you had rested for about fifteen seconds before your door was pounded on, signaling for you to be up and out in less than five minutes.

★ The next few days when the same way, you becoming antsy with everything happening, you starting to be quite aggressive, snapping at more people than you usually do. When Soap would try to touch the top of your head, you would nip at your hand, grumbling. He stopped trying after a while, until that Friday. That Friday night, he went to touch you again, earning a quick unintentional bite to the hand. You apologized profusely, him attempting to calm you down. It wasn’t bad, but the action still made you feel horrible. After that, you just let go, tears falling from your eyes as the events that had been crashing down on you all week finally made you snap.

★ He slowly eased you to the bed, shushing you as you continued to cry to him. He listened to you rant and grumble, sniffling as your ears pressed flat against your head. He had eventually got you to calm down, you both had moved into a position with you laying on his chest, him patting your back gently. He gave you a few quick kisses on your lips, sitting himself up slowly and running his hand through your hair. Those kisses slowly turned into a make out session, Johnny grinding up against you slowly as you did it back, hips pushing down against him.

★ He kept the kiss going when he heard someone knock, choosing to ignore it. You let out soft whimpers, a little scared that person would just waltz in, not bothering to get an answer. But they never did, eventually leaving to find you both somewhere else. Soap laid you down on the bed, getting up and walking around the room, around for something. He eventually stopped when he opened a drawer, pulling out an object. He hid it behind his back, pushing your head back down onto the bed when you raised up to see what it was.

★ He eventually allowed you to raise your head up, fastening something around your head before pushing you back down. Johnny had just muzzled you, the object on your face making you whine, staring up at him.

★ “That should help ya with that bitin’ problem, pup.”, he teased, pulling you towards him. When you moved to pull at the muzzle, Soap pinned your wrists down, chuckling at the way you squirmed under him. “S all okay, doll. I’ll be sure to fuck that attitude right out of ya.” He said to you softly, asking quickly if you were okay with it all, smiling when you gave him your permission. Which is how you’re where you are now.

★ Soap didn’t even bother to lock the door, slamming his cock into you as you moan and whine underneath him. Did Johnny care if you got caught? Hell no. All he wanted was to finally relieve you of your stress, watching you unwind with his dick in you was one of his favorite sights. He continued to have your wrists pinned, your legs wrapped around his waist as you trembled. It bothered you the tiniest bit that you couldn’t kiss him, but other than that, you were fine with being muzzled. You trusted Soap enough to know when you needed it, and Johnny knew good dogs didn’t bite.

#bat bite #my ktober fics rotting in my drafts rn #male reader #x male reader #gay #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x male reader #soap x male reader #soap x reader #soap call of duty #soap cod #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #soap mctavish

531 notes · View notes

aemysbabyofficial · 2 months

Text

Sweet Sixteen II; Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen!OC

To be a father is to live and sacrifice. What would Daemon live to sacrifice? To leave behind and never return to--to never regret with second thoughts. The answer: his last daughter.

Warnings: cannon divergence; paternal anger; father angry towards daughter; hints of paternal violence; hints of violence; choking; heavy angst; manipulation; hints of sex; highly emotional.

Notes: Apologies for the long wait, life hit me like a truck. If you liked this or wished it to be edited up or down, please tell me! This is a heavy read (it was a heavy write for me) but I hope you all enjoy this!

Long chapter ahead!

The summons arrived on a cool morning on Dragonstone. The raven knew all were fast asleep sole for one. Cold air rushed through Daemon's nose and up to his mind as he stood next to an open window. A knight had just left his quiet chambers, leaving him in a robe with a sealed letter in hand. Daemon was written on the cover in fine letters. Each letter was straight, curved in the right places, and perfectly in line with the one before and after.

It hadn't been long since he received word from his brother, or in this such a case, his court. It had actually not been long since he last visited King's Landing. He could count by hand the weeks that passed since he last roamed his former home. The king's second daughter, Helaena, was betrothed to her older brother Aegon and as a good tiding for the girls in the family, the king invited his nieces for some bonding with the dreamer girl. Daemon was surprised Viserys held the dear such an occasion, but his eyes felt the ink's deeper meaning just from the greeting.

Dearest brother...

A preparation. A warning. Daemon wiped his nose before he moved to the next line. The hallways of Dragonstone were quiet and the children were slumbering away in their chambers. His wife lay in their bed, under the sheets and furs to keep the breeze from fanning her skin. Daemon needed the fresh morning light to read the letter clearer, to see all the meanings within the lines. His hand gripped the parchment the further his eyes descended, burned brighter as he pulled apart double meanings and hidden phrases. He glazed past the introductions and greetings and dove to the heart of the letter--the biggest paragraph of them all. His breathing grew ragged when the mention of her spilled across the letter.

....The Princess Helaena requests the presence of Lady Saela Targaryen as a lady-in-waiting for her highness court. The Princess recounts fond memories she shared with the Lady and wishes her sweet presence in her everyday to be permanent. All servants, dressings, and accommodations lay prepared for the Lady's arrival....

It was a surprise. A bold move, Daemon complimented with raised brows. But it involved his daughter, his youngest daughter. Saela was still a child hiding behind her sister's shadows, lapping against her cousins' steps, and a growing woman. From what the Maesters whispered and he forced from a handmaid, she just flowered. Daemon crinkled his nose at the thought.

Why demand his youngest child among his three?

The letter, no, the summons demanded Saela's presence in the next seven days. It emphasized the great joy and happiness the princess Helaena would feel to have her favorite niece by her side. No other daughter was to attend on her behalf.

Bullshit.

A croaky laugh cracked through the room. Daemon's chest rose with sputtered laughs and his fingers pinched his alert eyes. A wry smile stretched the corners of his lips upwards. It was too late for him to switch out Saela for one of her sisters. The days where the girls could switch places and act as the other passed long ago; the twins even grew into unique features that stood them apart from each other.

Not Helaena. Daemon shook his head. That girl could not craft such a demand. The queen.

When Daemon visited last, his daughters joined him. The three-and-a-half day travel on boat was the same duration of their stay. While the girls bonded over tea, gowns, and childish talks, Daemon joined his brother every second he could. In his free time, which was limited, he would peek into side rooms, the gardens, or separate chambers to check on his daughters. Three times out for five, Daemon spotted Saela attached to Helaena's side while Alicent loomed over them. A whisper past Baela revealed the Queen had requested all of Saela's time that day and the previous.

"She calls for her after breaking our fast." Rhaena confided to her father on their third morning. She had just caught him before he departed for a meeting. Her speech was breathy--she ran--and her eyes bled into his soul. "And she just watches her."

Daemon hadn't much time to think about Rhaena's words before he marched into the council chambers. Men dressed in their house colours either stood around the table or sat waiting for their cups to be filled. Deep laughter rolled from one fat lord as he motioned to the King with his head.

"The boy is of age, isn't he? Aegon, isn't it. It is about time he takes a wife."

"And who would that be?" Another lord across the fat one asked. Daemon marched closer to hear their voices clearly, but halted when he heard names drop against the table.

"To keep the blood pure, won't his sister be the best choice? Or how about his cousins?"

It was then when Viserys realized his brother's presence and what the lord to his far right was talking about. The King didn't need another second to decipher the emotions across his face--anger, confusion, dying tolerance. Marrying off one his daughters could help their sad hearts after tragedy, but by the look of their father, Viserys knew not now, or, now ever. With a wave of his hand, he shushed all talk. He didn't a man leaving his a broken nose, animosity for a Targaryen, or dead.

When Daemon found his daughter later that day, the queen stood behind her with arms wide and eyes twinkling.

In his room with the letter, Daemon had time to think whilst Rhaenyra kissed him on the shoulder. Did dawn pass by so fast? The prince casted a glance to his wife skimming her eyes across the letter. The furrow of her brow marked she got the same place to.

"Are you going to do it?" Her brows raised in question. Are you going to send your youngest child to a den of vipers?

Daemon let his mind wander into dark clouds at the thought of leaving his daughter here. Laena left him with three children--girls, the realm's mightiest tools in times of diplomacy and wagers. Were he to leave one under his brother's nose, Sweet Old Saela, no one would blink an eye. She was the sweet, quiet child. He already has twins, leaving him still with the weight of raising girls. Saela was the perfect child, always abiding to rules and governance. Slip her a note on what to do, the girl will be a man's best soldier. Whisper her a scolding and she will bend her every value not to mess up again. Hells, when he begged his daughters to stop crying at a dinner one evening, Saela never talked for the rest of the night.

A soldier?

The fact Rhaenyra has a younger living brother threatened her established claim as heir. No one had to say it out loud: a son was all the king wanted, and even if his daughter stood in line behind him. A son would rally much more support than a woman with the Conqueror's crown.

Daemon cocked a brow. Saela could be his soldier, his extra eye in the Keep. While he converged his forces on Dragonstone, Saela would stay there, cozying up with his brother's wife. She was never the girl who liked rolling in mud or dallied in listening to Council meetings. No, she deserved the best linens and gowns and court. The girl could act as his extra pair of personal eyes and ears. She could get under her skin, worm her way into her mind. The prince knew no one stood a chance against his daughter's smile. She inherited from her mother. With Saela submerged into the Green mess that spilled across his home, Daemon needn't worry about a thing.

Saela would be his perfect soldier.

"I will." Daemon nodded. Rhaenyra peeked at the glint in his eyes.

That night following dinner, Saela cried at the news, but nevertheless prepared for the trip. Her sisters begged for her to stay, but as Daemon predicted, Saela took on her mission without complaint with an I will be fine. In their last pure moments together, Daemon prepared his mighty soldier for the battle she would face ahead. He knew she was prepared. Her emotions were in check beyond her years and she hadn't lived in Dragonstone for too long to grow too attached to the palace or its grounds. Unlike Baela or Jacaerys who obsessed over flying, Saela was a novice in comparison to them--her dragon had barely hatched and refused to show signs of flight.

The skin of a father was shed for Daemon to bare the armour of a soldier. For hours past the hour of the owl, he drilled passages and commands to Saela--from dining, to walking, to presenting her head. She was going to leave her home a measly girl and enter the capital, her arena, her battlefield, as an armed soldier and mighty weapon.

And a soldier Daemon saw his Saela become. When she greeted them for their tea, she stood tall, unwavering under his eyes, and proud. She nearly resembled the frigid woman Rhaenys became. Whenever he caught sight of her, Saela was the paradigm of his success--of her upbringing under him, trained knowledge of note-passing, and dining with the enemies. Daemon knew out of all his daughters, Saela won't crumble easy.

She overcame her mother's death faster than her sisters and won't let a thing brother her. To Daemon, she was mentally stronger in keeping her emotions and personal life out of politics or power moves.

His girl even overcame the disaster that was that dinner announcing new betrothals. Whereas Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Baela sprung for Aegon and Aemond, Saela was quiet. Like he, she calculated the scene next to Helaena. But where she had gone with her aunt, Daemon had not the slightest clue. The cool ocean air fanned his skin while he walked through the exposed halls of the Keep. The wine, unbridled emotions, and lack of sleep for some riled everyone out of the dining hall to separate corners of the castle. To keep his mind at peace, Daemon walked the paths above the garden to feel the clouded moonlight fan him.

Rhaenyra, before he departed their chambers, planned to cut their trip short and haul the family back to Dragonstone the following morning. The short notice gave him little time to make sure Saela was all right. Rhaenyra knew better. To make sure her allegiance is all right, to her, or her father.

"Where is my daughter?" Daemon asked a passing knight. His voice rose barely above a murmur. The dark-haired man shrugged his shoulders and tumbled out an I'm not aware.

After their meals, it was their own tradition to find each other hiding in secret passages. It was a game Daemon introduced to Saela a random night. (He and Laena had argued over something trivial and he was bored for once). One night each, either he or Saela would rush out following their meal and hide in any place that would fit them. Spots ranged from false walls, behind hanging banners, inside knights armours, to underneath the biggest skirt one could find. Every time an argument broke out or someone got in trouble and just breathing was a challenge in the hall, Daemon and Saela would whisk themselves out to play their game.

The idea Saela was playing again struck something cold and dull in Daemon's heart. She had escaped under his nose and was hiding all-too well.

To a passing handmaid, he asked the same thing. Two girls carrying basins of water quickly shook their heads. "If not in her chambers, she must be in the gardens, my prince."

Daemon hadn't bothered to give the servants another word before he marched to the nearest staircase. He had just descended the stairs when he saw her. Saela's head and her tightly-wound bun of silver curls rested on the shoulder of a woman. No, a handmaid. Two walked on either side of her, locked in arms with their backs to him. His practiced steps were silent against the stone path. Even though his daughter and her servants were several paces ahead, none would hear him.

So, she's not playing the game, but going for a walk.

In his silence, Daemon planned what to say. Hello, dear daughter. My good soldier. Have you kept those notes from years ago? Where I told you to watch and listen?

A wry smile cracked his face as he practiced. "I hope all is, my good daughter--"

"Stop."

Daemon froze.

"What is wrong with you?"

Saela had turned a corner before speaking to someone. The prince rose a brow as he prowled to the corner. He was about to step out and draw a weapon at the sound of a threat, but he quickly retreated.

"You just had to open your mouth? The boy is ten-and-five, a child!" Saela's voice seethed. Daemon narrowed his brows when the voice spoke clearer. Louder. It burned his blood when he matched the tone and depth of the man Saela talked to.

"He is a fool and a bastard." Aemond scoffed. Daemon didn't have to see his face to calculate the prince's anger.

"A boy, Aemond! He is a child, a fool, nothing he speaks is serious. Why did you let that...Lucerys get to you like that?"

Saela raised her voice before covering her mouth. Aemond's frame hid the girl from Daemon's sight, but he could see the One-Eyed cradle his daughter's face. In plain sight for anyone to see were Saela and Aemond talking like lovers. It took every muscle in Daemon not to laugh, or to scream. The glances Saela failed to hide at dinner made sense. Her hidden smile behind her cup. The twitch in her lips.

Why? Daemon asked himself, both to why Saela's and his own actions. Why did she react to Aemond like that and why didn't he confront them? Why was she allowing him to hold her, to whisper to her, to invade her space and not--

"The dinner..."

Daemon hadn't meant to whisper out into the night, but light clouds of his breath floated in the air above his lips. His mind pulled him back an hour ago, before the mess of drinks spilled and food wasted his brother left behind. Saela and Aemond watched each other lasciviously across the long table. Over their cups, as they cut their food or talked with the person on their right, they somehow managed to eye the other down. To calm his mind from jumping from his skull, he fooled himself into not believing what he saw. But he was a boy once--a man now--and could pick at the signs of lust. As he drank wine to calm the storm in his mind, Daemon could see Aemond undress his daughter with his one eye; he licked at her exposed chest and laughed at her open neck. In the moments he felt like hurling his meal or flipping a table, Daemon drank himself silly.

The drunk he wished for pooled to nothing now.

"What can I do to make it up to you, hmm?" Aemond hummed against Saela's skin. Although Daemon looked at the pair, his mind buffered in registering their actions. The fact Saela smiled as Aemond frisked his hands around her was like a dart to his glass mind.

No. Daemon looked away. Saela wouldn't allow herself a second to fall for a man like that. A crippled second-son would do nothing for Saela. She deserved someone stronger, fiercer, and--

"You don't get to kiss me."

Daemon straightened at his daughter's words. Kiss? Who is his daughter kissing? When he peered around the corner, his body tensed. Aemond had Saela pinned to the Keep's cold walls with one hand on her cheek and the other caressing her thigh. The handmaidens backs faced him, allowing him total freedom to see Aemond fondle Saela's skin between her legs. Although she disallowed Aemond entrance into her with her words, her hands toyed his hair and her lips ghosted his red cheeks.

"Do you know how much stress I've dealt with by myself?"

Saela's voice went soft, but it ached with raw pain. She spoke only for Aemond to hear. The prince muted the racing of his heart to hear his daughter's confession, but all he could see were her lips flapping and hear the tough drags of her nose. Whatever Saela revealed to Aemond warranted her a kiss. The sound of lips smacking made Daemon cringe. He slammed his back to the wall. Between the wet kisses, pants, and shuffles of fabric, Daemon picked up a few words and phrases.

"....Ilaena was horribly, sick, Aemond." Another kiss. Daemon noted the hard knot between her brow.

"..red in the face.." Kiss on the neck.

"...you didn't bother asking if she..." a loud moan soared from her lips. "Helaena and Alicent were the only ones to..."

The unbuckling of a belt and light laugh set Daemon off. "I'll make it up to you, my love." The One-Eyed Prince laughed in the night. In the dark, he saw red. The raging thump of his heart broke his eardrums, muting him to the moans around the corner. It took everything in him not to spear Aemond with Dark Sister. The sensual cry from Saela chased the prince away.

His boots stomped holes into the ground as he marched down the hall. If a knight or simple handmaid crossed the wrong path at the wrong time with him, their shoulders bore wounds of their collision. Daemon couldn't care less about a whining annoyance. All he could focus on were the shadows he saw dance outside; their hushed voices, kisses, and pants fogged his mind harsher than any storm. This itself was a storm, the hardest he faced both on land and on dragonback.

No guard stopped Daemon from pushing his way into Saela's bedchamber.

He waited. Without making a sound, or even a breath, the bedchambers were lifeless. It was like Daemon never stood in the middle of it all. Proof of his existence was the fire. The fact he could feel it proved his life at that moment was true--that what he witnessed was true. The crackling of wood reminded the prince his hearing was perfect. It told his mind he could not misjudge a thing, even if wished it was wrong.

Daemon's eyes glossed to life when the door opened. The hushed giggling erupted into frigid gasps. Saela must have jumped when she noticed him.

"Wait here," she said to two other voices.

"Leave." Daemon commanded. The hand holding the wrist behind his back clenched his skin worse than any chains or armor. The figures at the door made no move to leave. Either they were confused or they wished to meet his blade.

"I said leave."

"No, they can stay." Saela whispered something to the women. Palina, Arah. The names echoed in Daemon's mind. It dawned on him when he finally recognized who they were. In a letter addressed to him right after Saela settled into the Keep, she told him of the handmaidens assigned to her.

Palina and Arah are at my beck and call...it is fun having maids at your command. Now I know how you feel with your soldiers.

The same handmaidens she wrote about years ago were still at her side? Daemon lodged the thought deep into his skull. His shoulders squared straight when he stood tall. He hadn't turned around, but could see and feel the contemplation dancing on the women's faces.

"Defy me again and I'll slit your throats. Leave."

Not even the fire could cool Daemon's skin when the moans and kisses echoed in his mind. His lip curled at the smacks he heard, at the licks and spits he could feel across his skin. The slam of the chamber doors reaped the man from his nightmares.

"You didn't have to chase them away like that. They are loyal servants." Saela sighed before moving towards her father. He heard her smooth down her gown, probably rumpled from the mess she was in. "I wasn't expecting you so late, father. Is there something you want to talk about?"

Daemon needed time to breath. His back heaved with a heavy weight and his mouth dried before he could speak.

"Where were you?"

"For a walk. Did you want to come along--"

"With whom?" Daemon heard Saela move. Side steps, a nervous dance. She rubbed her hands against her gown with a long breath.

"With Palina and Arah--"

"You call your servants by name? What are they, your friends?" The shadow haunting Daemon's frame reigned over Saela's against the stone wall. The flames from the fire could be his own, heaved from his tongue.

"They are lovely girls, father. We are not far in age--"

"Do you think me a fool, Saela?" Daemon moved to feel the fire against his back. His head teetered down while his gaze bore to the left at his youngest daughter. "Why would a lady like you go for a walk at this hour?"

Saela's chest rose high. The chain around her neck tightened. It was a rope of Daemon's lashes tightening around her neck. Slowly and steadily did it rise to choke her.

"T-that is what--"

"I know you are smarter than this, Saela. Why would you do this to yourself?"

The tone in the prince's voice fell to a sympathetic level. He sounded sad, mournful, even. His shoulders fell when his body finally turned to face his child. He wanted her to see him downed, to see his pain. He wanted her to know he knew and she could do nothing but admit it. He wanted to hear it from her.

"Why would allow someone like that to do that to you?"

Saela felt her eyes sting. Her father had that power over her, hurting her eyes before anything else. It was only him that could make her cry before she felt the heavy pain in her chest. It was only Prince Daemon that scared her so much she couldn't breathe.

What he said tore through her. How could she let him do that to her? The Heart of the House, her uncle, the king, would call her. The sweet Heart that everyone adored, everyone thought pure, allowed something so vile inside her. She allowed herself to be tainted by a dark hole everyone tried to cover, to shield--no, to ignore. The last of Prince Daemon's daughters, the girls that would honor their father with honorable acts, was the most dishonorable of all.

All those thoughts swamped Saela's mind until she was breathless, crying mess. Her father was a blur of black leather and silver details, a monster she couldn't understand nor defeat. Saela could only bare herself honestly in front of the soldier that stared her down.

"How old?"

"W-what?" Saela was breathless, her voice airy and shaky. Faith in her voice crashed to the ground when Daemon towered his head over her own. She had to brace her muscles to not let her body drop.

"How old were you when he--"

Daemon bared his teeth. He couldn't finish the question nor formulate the words on his tongue. Claimed you. Fucked you. Took advantage of you. Tormented you. The words spat around in his mind, assaulting him from all angles and it could have made the man sick. But he stomached it down and shook his head. As a father, the thought of asking his daughter when she was deflowered sickened him. Why should he, a man of his stature, ask a lady--his daughter, at that--such a question?

"How old were you, Saela?"

The way Daemon spoke her name scared the girl into confession. It was fatherly, courageous, or kind. It reeked of grimace, of...of disgust.

He thinks me disgusting.

The girl silently balled as she answered. "Three-and--" The deep chuckle Daemon let out from the depths of his throat silenced Saela's whispered words. Of every conversation she imagined, this way, this manner, never came to mind. Saela never wished to spill her life's truths and secrets to her family like this, shrunken in a cowardice, crying mess.

"P-please father, don't--"

"Don't what? Don't kill him?"

"Please, no!" Saela screamed. Her watery eyes noted her father's light touches to Dark Sister. She knew her shaking bones and crumpled gown were Aemond's only defense between life and sudden death. "Please, don't hurt him."

"Why? Do you love him?" Daemon to hear it. Hear the name. Hear her guilt.

The mind of the Targaryen girl spiraled. After everything--her new life in court, building a new life with her cousins, growing close to allied and enemy houses, building her own life--it came crashing down in one night. No lie, no distraction, no escape was offered to her.

"He is using you, Saela, for his own selfish needs. He does not love you, no one here does. No one will ever truly appreciate you here."

Saela's fingers dug themselves into her sleeves. Spools of lace trickled to the floor as she cried. No one will ever truly appreciate you here. But they do, Saela yelled at herself. When her one and only family left her in King's Landing she visited a handful of times, Helaena, Alicent, Aemond, and even Aegon took her in as family. Come nights she dreamed of her mother's vanishing hand, Alicent was there to rub her back and sing her songs. Come days she missed dragon riding with her sisters or walking the mountains with the Velaryon boys, Aemond and Aegon joined her without tell.

Daemon watched time pass through his daughter's eyes and he shook his head. "Do you truly believe they love you?"

"W-why would you...?" Saela couldn't lift her head.

Were all the times she spent dancing, embroidering, reading, sleeping, and playing with Helaena and Alicent a lie? No. They love me. Helaena and Alicent replaced the times she lost with her sisters and mother.

And Aemond. O, the prince was her shield from days she remembered horror times. He was the saving hand that pulled her from nightmares--when she lost her mother and the brother she never got to know. He shielded her from nightmares and dances of attitudes. Aemond was still the boy she found in the library in Driftmark that would listen to her ramble--still the boy that protected her mind from thoughts of darkness and doom.

Aemond was the bed her tightened heart and head could explode on.

"I...I..."

"What, Saela?" Daemon narrowed his eyes. Past the tears, tear stains, and messy hair, he could see growing fires in his daughter's eyes. They were flames of resolve and passion. They were flames he had to snuff out. "Don't you say--"

"I love him, father. I love Aemond and you cannot do a thing about it."

She said it. Silence fell between the pair. A mixture of sneer and grin crossed Daemon's face. It resembled a dragon's smile before it devoured its prey. The look on her father's face revealed the rage he didn't shame himself in hiding. Saela caught the lighting of a wildfire when she caught her breath. It was too late.

"I...no..."

Saela felt her heart beat slower and slower. I said it and Daemon waited for me. Her body didn't realize it shook in the presence of dragon's flames. She shook her head before she could say another word.

"You love fucking Aemond Targaryen?" Saela jumped at the tone of her father's voice. "Why? Because he's your cousin? Because he fucks you in the garden for everyone to see?"

He saw. The girl's stomach dropped. Everything she's done in the past years to perfect her secret were ruined once her family came back into her life. The shell Alicent crafted around her, for her, as a second mother, cracked with every yell Daemon released. Then something festered within her. A toil of anger and resentment. How dare he lie to me? Her life was perfect. Walks with her cousins were always lovely. Long walks with her uncle where they talked about everything he could remember filled her life's missing gaps. Only now that her sisters, father, and step-brothers enter her home, her life, everything she's created is slowly come to ruin.

"Tolī mirre eman gaomagon..."

Saela closed her eyes with a long sigh. Her hands covered her face as she shook her head. Daemon stepped closer to hear her words, but she side-stepped him to pace her room.

After all I have done.

"What?" Daemon cocked a brow. His shoulders twitched.

"So now you care about me? Now, after all these years, you think to care about what I'm doing or who I'm with."

As Daemon peered over his daughter, he lost sight of her. Yes, she stood in front of him, but she wasn't crying or apologizing like she always would have. This wasn't the Saela who would wipe her face and vow to never disobey her father again. No, the woman in front of him bore tears of anger. The previous knot between her brows fell and she stood tall to match his height.

"In this house, these people were the only ones to stand by my side. I know they care about me--"

"I am your father, Saela. I know they don't care about you--"

"Shut up!" The girl screamed in defiance. It was a child's way of building their truth, but as an adult, Daemon could crush it. He saw the plans in her mind race when she shook a hand.

"I said not a word when you married Rhaenyra. I said not a word when you took in Jace and Luke and Joffrey as your own. I was the nice daughter and accepted them as my brothers."

"This has nothing to do with--"

"I said nothing when Rhaena cried to me saying you ignore her! I said nothing when--"

"You are not listening, Saela!" Daemon marched forward. His chest bumped the woman back, but she didn't stumble.

"I didn't say anything after mother died and you married her--"

"He is your cousin!"

"And she is your niece!" Saela screamed. Sweat crawled across their skin in the room. Be it fatigue, wine from earlier hitting them, or unresolved tensions from the years, neither Daemon nor Saela took a step back.

"Have we not fulfilled our family's fucked-up customs?" Daemon lowered his chin at the exasperated sigh. He leaned his head forward so his eyes could level Saela's wide stare back at him. Her body didn't shake anymore and if he didn't seethe in a cloud of anger, would have admired his daughter for the strength she carried. "You settle your cock deep into your niece's cunt while I warm up by cousin's bed. We are pure-blooded Targaryens, father--"

"Shut your mouth."

Daemon hadn't raised his voice, but the bass of his tone silenced Saela. Her mouth wavered shut, but her eyes burned with thousands of unsaid words. A scratching quiet surrounded the pair, forcing them for words. The crackling of the heat had died in comparison to their ferocity.

Saela cracked an odd smile before she bowed her head. When she looked up, it didn't reach her eyes for miles.

"Was she not eight-and-ten when you claimed her in a brothel?"

Red burned in Daemon's eyes. All he saw was blood rushing through his vision.

"Aemond had the dignity of a man to fuck me lovingly in his chambers."

Daemon's blood boiled higher than any power. No wine or ocean could muddle or cleanse his brain. HIs mind didn't react to his body moving across the cold floor. The prince's eyes were nothing but drops of black as they stared down at Saela choking. His grip around her throat was loose enough for her to breath freely but tight enough his fingers brushed each other around her neck. His other hand was raised but frozen in the air.

When Daemon blinked next, Saela was crying and his hands dropped without question. In front of her was a dragon, not a man. Heat of dragon's flame burned around her neck so much, she cringed at the burn, then laughed.

What stood before Daemon wasn't his daughter. It was a creature from another world. Possessed, a Maester would say. Magic, a skeptic would claim. This is not Saela. Daemon's brow fell, his heart dropped, and corners of his mouth ached. His daughter that would laugh at his failed jokes and dance with her sisters whenever she could was gone. The person before him had her face, but not her soul.

"You are no more clean than I am, father."

In slow waves, the girl walked away. Backward steps forced him to watch her face morph from laughing to a blank slate. Step. Step. Step. Her hands braced each furniture she bumped into, but she never turned away. Slowly, slowly, creepily, Saela's face turned again and Daemon could see her return. The dying flames calmed her mind to understand the madness she unleashed in her chambers. The wandering of her eyes and quick rise of her chest simmered whatever heat and anger she reached for. Before she could fall onto the couch, Saela whipped around to wipe her face.

It was now Daemon remembered he was a father. Her father.

"Who is Ilaena?"

Saela stopped short of the door. Daemon let his arms hang by his sides after relaxing his shoulders. He hadn't realized the knot he forced his body in until he felt like melting into a pool of body mass. Daemon asked again when silence was delivered with his daughter's back.

"A-a friend." Saela drew back snot.

The lie was a thick as a morning yawn. Daemon heard the gasp she let out when he spoke the name and could hear the hesitance Saela spoke with.

"Iksan aōha kepa." I am your father.

A reminder to them. Second by second, Daemon's voice warmed to the tone he always spoke to her with. It was like the dragon from before never existed, never threatened her. He spoke like he was never disgusted by her.

“I am a father and husband, Saela. Who is--"

"Some call her a whore." The little voice trembled. It was muffled between Saela's frame and the thick doors, but it bounced to Daemon's ears.

"The Lannister's say the vow to Rhaenyra wasn't made by them...House Wylde would suck a man's cock if anything..."

Saela sniffled, but the end of her words hinted at a laugh. Her voice no longer had the edge from earlier--the venomous bite Daemon worried he would catch. It resembled the call of a small child who raced for her father. The girl reached up as she spoke, but could never reach the hand that pulled back from her.

"But it's Otto who, who masters everything."

The heavy chamber doors slammed behind Saela after her confession, leaving Daemon in her cold chambers. In the dim silence, his body melted to the floor. The girl he hugged tightly years ago that one fateful night was unrecognizable just now. The sweet child he sent instructions and guides became something he never imagined. Saela became a soldier--a woman obedient to order, instruction, and command. She now joined the war that consumed their family but Daemon wasn't sure which side she fought for.

His Sweet Saela was a girl no more, but a woman cracked, and soldier worn.

Taglist: @malfoycassimalfoy

#hotd #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x targaryen!oc #aemond targaryen x saela targaryen #house of the dragon x oc #hotd x oc #hotd angst #house of the dragon angst #sweet saela #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen x reader

156 notes · View notes

canonicallyobserving911 · 2 months

Text

Buck & Eddie: They're Soulmates!

Buck and Eddie share a once in a lifetime love of each other's lives type of love that transcends space and time.

The love they share is not platonic, it's romantic and the natural chemistry they have is OFF THE CHARTS.

There are people who wish they could have one tenth of the love they share with each other and that's why over the years, the show has made it a point to highlight and compare their love interests against the other one as a way to prove Buck and Eddie are meant for each other.

Therefore, can it once and for all be acknowledged that the possible reason why NONE of Buck’s previous relationships with AC, AM, TK and ND never worked was because THEY WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO?

The same goes for Eddie because NONE of his relationships ever worked either including the one he had with Chris' mother. SD, AF and now M (who the show still hasn't given a last name and that speaks volumes as to how long she'll possibly be around) didn’t or won't work for Eddie because THEY WEREN'T/AREN'T SUPPOSED TOO EITHER?

It's interesting to see all these takes on how some people view their previous relationships with those women through rose colored glasses and saying things like they could have been great if... (_______ fill in the blank with whatever randomness you'd like). The point is they weren't meant to be anything but a placeholder until Buddie goes CANON.

Buck

There have been so many takes on Buck and TK being perfect because they were cute together but did everyone who thinks that forget she was willing to throw the 118 and their captain under the bus in 2x6? Don't even try to rebutt it with logic from that fake redemption arc that was included in 5x7 for her because in 5x17 she ultimately accomplished her goal by doing exactly what she intended four years earlier when she broke a promise she made to Buck and ran with the Jonah story then wrote a raggedy book about it exactly one year later in 6x17. It's true that Buck knew who she was but he still dated her (which speaks more to his poor decision making than hers) but they both knew it was wrong from the start. They were never going to work and they were never FRIENDS. Friends don't treat each other like $hit so they can get their way then expect for you to just be ok with it and follow it up with a half @ssed apology like, "I'm sorry you're still upset about the story" 🙄. With friends like that, Buck doesn't need enemies.

AC literally ABANDONED him but there are still people who think she would have been good for him. It appears they forgot she FOUND a man with two kids in another country and in 3x18 she came back two years later to rub Buck’s face in it. She didn't even have the decency to apologize to him.

AM was the worst of all because SHE WAS NEVER THERE WHEN BUCK NEEDED HER. Was she nice, yes but she didn't know him at all and when his leg got crushed by the ladder truck in 2x18, she dipped and ABANDONED him too. But for some reason, she's being heralded as his best relationship ever which is so far from the truth it's funny sad not funny haha. She left him in his loft with a cast on his leg because she didn't know what she wanted.

ND was/is only interested in Buck because he DIED! THAT'S IT! There's nothing else to the story. She clearly COULDN'T SEE HIM because they only knew each other for two seconds so please stop romanticizing their hookup like it was some "Gone with the Wind" love story because that's a bunch of BS since they didn't and still don't know each other.

Eddie

SD was NOT the perfect wife and mother people who wanted her to stick around and coparent Chris with Eddie have made her out to be. The show clearly retconned her character in 6x15 like she was so young and she didn't deserve to die but be clear, the relationship she had with Eddie was toxic as F%ck! All they did was argue and instead of talking, they had sex. They didn't communicate and when she was ready to leave again, she thought she would have time to come back and be "someone's wife and someone's mother" (her words but notice she didn't say Chris' mother or Eddie's wife, she said someone's) but her time ran out and she didn't get the chance, hence the title of the episode she died in, "Careful what you wish for". Trust and believe she had a lot of faults and Eddie did too but her being young wasn't an excuse for her leaving Chris and not contacting him for almost 2 years. If Eddie wouldn't have contacted her about her interviewing at Durand, would she have ever come back? Who knows but probably not since she was out there living her best life like she didn't have a kid.

AF was nice but just because her and Eddie were cute together, it doesn't mean they were soulmates. Did the people rooting for them to stay together even realize that she was Chris' schoolteacher in 3x12 but she DIDN'T OFFER EDDIE ANY SUGGESTIONS ON HOW TO HELP CHRIS SKATEBOARD? That was literally her job but she was career driven which isn't a bad thing but it seemed like she was in love with the idea of being in love just like Eddie was. She was trying to avoid dealing with the issues that were prevalent in their relationship and she didn't even ask Eddie about his panic attacks to try and find out what was causing them. But she did throw them in his face when he broke up with her.

M is IN LOVE WITH HER BROTHER! It was clear she was in 6x5 when she almost kissed him on the mouth while they were in the ambulance. Also, she's a loner, hence the meaning of her name, Marisol, it literally means solitude. When Eddie met her, she was doing upgrades on her home by herself until her brother showed up and made a complete mess of things. If Eddie does try to pursue something formidable with her in season 7, everyone knows how it will end because EDDIE TOLD THE AUDIENCE IN 6X14... he'll be performing and trying not to panic and his performance anxiety will be at a level 100.

Buddie

Who's never left Buck? EDDIE!

Who loves both Eddie and Chris? BUCK!

Who takes care of Buck? EDDIE!

Who listens to Eddie? BUCK!

The list can go on and on but the point of this post is for those who chose to see what they want to see instead of what 9-1-1 has CLEARLY been depicting for Buck and Eddie over the past six years. None of Buck’s or Eddie’s love interests were written to work because they weren't/aren't supposed to.

No one has natural chemistry with them like they have with each other and it's written that way on PURPOSE!

155 notes · View notes

joshlmbrt · 3 months

Text

Beautiful Boy. truck driver!dad! e. munson x mom!reader.

w; this one is long - i apologize, r is intended as a female but i try to be nondescript as best as i could ( i use the pronouns she/her BUT you can always change if you’d like <3 ), i don’t know much about soccer so pls ignore how i absolutely demolish it, mentions of cheating - not eddie, jason is mean - as always - but this time it’s uncalled for, chance is non-verbal, little injury, eddie absolutely loses it in front of parents and kids - but it’s needed honestly, eddie’s self-deprecating thoughts, fluff ending

thank you @reidsbtch & @officerrrfriendly for beta reading !!! i love u both.

an; thought about this little idea and i love the idea of truck driver!eddie so im continuing the alt au! i hope you guys love him just as much as i do 🧸 (if u seen the post ab me taking a small break - no u didn’t … jk, after this i won’t post for a while </3 just wanted to post this.)

Eddie hated being around people.

Not just people. But people he knew and went to school with - the ones that called him a freak.

Although, Eddie had found you and he was the first one out of anyone - when he finally put his mind to it and graduated - to get married.

So, everyone who made fun of him, suck it!

“Hun, can you get his duffel bag out, please?” You slip out of the car, opening the back door. Sometimes he missed his van - the one you despised and desperately told him to trade in for this mini van - but then he realizes how much it actually came in handy.

You hold Chance’s hand when he hops out of the car, kneeling down and tying his shoes. Whenever Eddie would tie them, he would immediately walk away and find you, wordlessly holding his foot out - Eddie never got them tight enough. They would always untie in the middle of the game.

“You’re gonna do so good, baby! I just know it.” You switch to tie the other shoe. Eddie circles around the car after locking it, placing a hand on Chance’s head.

“Absolutely. He’s a Munson.” He smirks down at the boy. It took a little time for Eddie to realize that being a part of the Munson Bloodline wasn’t all bad like people had made him believe.

Sometimes they would lose - but in the long run, they somehow always win in the end.

His win - you and Chance.

There’s a whistle that had been directed towards the small group of you, Chance, and himself. It caused Eddie to look up quickly. It wasn’t the type of whistle to catch someone’s attention that you had been friends with for a while - no - it was a whistle little boys did when they seen a woman they thought was pretty.

“Oh, my bad.” The smirk was familiar and made Eddie’s blood run hot.

Jason Carver.

Divorced three times and had two kids (They both are the same age - you can be sure what had happened there and why they both are the same age) . He's married again, but she’s at the car getting the chairs out and small cooler with capri-sun’s for the little tots and beer for Jason.

It wasn’t allowed, but it was Jason Carver, and sometimes someone’s privilege was so blindingly noticeable.

You peek up at Eddie, watching as his jaw clenches. “Eds,” You say. “Eddie,” He finally looks down at you. You shake your head. “He’s not worth it. Don’t waste your breath.”

He can distinctly hear Julia - his new wife who was most likely about to hit him with divorce papers - complain as she shoves the chairs into his arms. His eyes peek up, watching as they both walk away. He only nods, looking back down at you.

“Breathe, Eds.”

And suddenly, he could breathe again. There was a shudder to the first breath he took - but it felt nice. Rather than holding it in anger until he passed out.

You give him a small smile before fixing Chance’s green shirt. You press a quick kiss to his forehead, standing and holding a hand out for him. He immediately slips his hand into yours, following you towards the field.

Eddie glances around, scratching at his neck when he passes a group of people who peaked in high school - better known as the basketball and football team.

There were a couple of them that were fine - not as rude. And he was sure that the whispers he heard wasn’t about him in particular, but there’s some side of him that feels as if the hushed conversation was about him - or worse, his little mini me.

Chance had been quiet. He doesn’t know why or if it will ever change - a part of him hopes it does because he wants to hear his tiny voice. But if it never changed, Eddie would still love him either way.

And if anyone - including a kid - said anything about it, he’s not afraid to go to jail after knocking out some teeth and lose his job over it.

He drops the duffel bag, kneeling down in front of Chance. “Remember what I told you?” He tilts his head. “This is supposed to be fun, just remember that.”

Chance smiles and nods. He looked grown - the tooth that he had lost making a slow comeback.

“Now, go get them, Champ.” He stands, clapping as he runs to meet the rest of his team.

You peek over at him, smiling softly with a fluttering heart and pink cheeks. He peeks over at you, pushing his sleeves up to his elbows and crossing his arms over his chest, lifting a brow at you.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” He chuckles a bit nervously. He still gets a bit nervous when you stare at him like you’re falling in love all over again - which you are, even more than before.

Of course, Eddie’s had relationships - even situationships - and even if they didn’t last that long, he always felt confident in the relationship, never boyish and giggly to where he could swing his feet like a school girl.

But with you, he feels shy, excited, nervous, and loved.

You shrug, slipping your arms around his, resting your chin on his bicep. “I just think you’re so handsome.”

He flushes and suddenly feels hot in the cool air. “Even with this scuff.”

“Especially with the scuff,” You grin. “And I thought I wouldn’t like your haircut, but I do.”

“I’m glad,” He nods, leaning over and pressing one, two, three pecks against your forehead. “It was just getting in the way when I would roll the windows down to smoke,” His scruff tickles against your forehead. “Especially when I would forget or loose the rubber band.”

You nod a bit and lift up, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’m going to go get the mini cooler out of the car.”

“I can do that.”

“No, I got it. Stay here and make sure no one gets our spot.”

He smirks. “Yeah, because you’ll end up feeling bad for someone and move.”

You roll your eyes and pat his bottom before walking off. He smiles and turns back, watching as they Hawkins and the other team - Defenders - give high-fives before the game starts.

“So, Munson,” He feels someone brush up against his side, his nails dig into his skin that was covered by his black sweatshirt. “How’s the married life?”

“You mean the same married life I’ve been in for 5 years now?” Eddie rocks on his heels. He doesn’t know if that would help, but he’s hoping it does so he doesn’t cause a scene in front of all the kids and parents who already judge him enough even if he’s not that same, hyperactive person anymore.

“It’s wonderful. How about your third wife? Or… is it the fourth?” He wonders out loud. Jason chuckles, blue eyes turning to stare daggers into the side of his face. “Or do you already have the fourth one picked out?”

“You’re such a-”

“Hi, Mr. Carver,” You cut the conversation short. You didn’t like Jason at all, but it’s better to kill him with kindness than to egg him on with words. “Seems like James and Aj are getting the hang of soccer.”

He watches as you bend at the waist, Eddie moving slightly to cover where ever his eyes might land, pinky circling into the belt loop of your jeans.

Jason rolls his eyes at that, clearing his throat. “Yeah. Learned from the best,” He nods. “What about Chance? Since… Eddie’s gone most of the time.”

“Dustin, Lucas, or Steve comes and practices with him. Jonathan does sometimes as well, and Robin,” You shrug. “He has a bunch of people who help him.”

“I bet it gets lonely sometimes.” Eddie’s ears ring when he hears the words and the whistle blow.

“What?”

“You know… When Eddie’s gone. How many days is he gone?”

You lift a brow, eyes staying on Chance’s jersey. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” You step closer when you feel Eddie’s finger tug on the belt loop of your jeans.

“Well… I could keep you company sometime, you know,” He tilts his head. “It’s not okay for Chance to have a father that disappears a couple of days and then pops back up for a day.” There’s a pause. You both were going to ignore him.

Jason is the type of guy who wouldn’t back out of an argument until there’s a physical altercation between him and whoever falls into his trap. Eddie knows this because it’s happened before.

Jason wouldn’t stop pestering him - and the next day after seeing his father on the news for a physical altercation, breaking-an-entering, DUI, and Drug Holding, it only made it worse.

“Looks like you might actually have something to look forward too - seeing your Daddy behind bars when you get locked up with him.”

He can’t remember when his fist went flying and when it broke Jason’s nose, but after that, Jason would say something’s and Eddie would retaliate with words.

Jason would back down because he remembered the pain that the rings had caused and the cracking noise he had heard.

But now, he didn’t seem to remember what that felt like - and maybe he needed to be reminded.

“Maybe that’s why he’s a bit slow.” Especially now when he said those words. Jason Carver officially sealed his fate.

“What did you just say?” Eddie turns to him.

“Oh, I didn’t mean that in a bad way,” Jason shrugs. But he did. “Just… you know, he doesn’t talk. He’s not that smart with his-”

“You don't want to finish that sentence, Carver,” Eddie grits out. There’s a hot flash that keeps going down his whole body, the feeling of breaking that nose again, ruining the nose job he had to have because of his rings. “You remember what happened before. I’d hate to ruin the nose job you had to have in 10th grade. Then you’d have to spend another thousand just to get it busted again.”

Jason’s brows shoot up, a small teasing smirk on his face. He notices some parents’ eyes looking at them. Eddie’s voice had raised a smidge and he didn’t even notice.

“Is that a threat, Munson?”

“Try promise, Carver,” His eyes narrow at him. “You peaked in high school and can’t let it go. You even work there.”

Jason’s jaw clenches at that. “I didn’t-”

“You did,” Eddie cuts him off. There’s a small smirk that tugs at the corner of his lips knowing he’s got under his skin now. “You just don’t want to admit it. And it’s honestly sad. So, what you’re going to do right now is turn around, walk away from my wife, and stop talking about my son. Because it won’t be pretty if you don’t.”

“Eddie.” Your hand grips his arm. He looks at you and shakes his head before looking at Jason.

Jason clicks his tongue, darting his eyes out at the field as he nods a bit. You look between the two. “Alright… I’ll let you win this one,” He hums, hands on his hips. “Because at least my kid isn’t a freak.”

Eddie flinches at the word, fist clenching at the usage and who it was shot at. He wouldn’t have minded if it was meant towards himself, but his kid? One who couldn’t even defend himself?

His hands land on his chest, pushing him away. Jason stumbles on his Nike’s. “Carver, I mean it. Walk away before you say something you’ll regret. I’m so close to beating you into the ground.”

Jason stares at him and he believes him. Eddie’s staring at him with eyes that were dark, his hands balled into fists at his side - so tight that his knuckles were white.

Jason’s eyes glances over at you. And just because he needs to get in the last words so his ego isn’t hurt and knocked down a couple of steps, “Call me if you ever get lonely, babygirl.” His lips pucker and smack together before he gives Eddie one last grin, turning around.

Eddie almost swings at the back of his head to knock him off guard, his arm raising. You grab his arm, pulling it down quickly. “Not worth it,” You say, hand resting between his shoulder blades. “He’s not worth going to jail, Eds.”

Eddie watches as he makes his way towards Julia, plopping down into his fold out chair. He grabs the can, taking a gulp and wiping at the corner of his mouth where some had slipped. His blue eyes turn and meet Eddie’s, a small smile that curls at his lips.

“Just one punch?”

“No,” You turn him towards you. “He’s just trying to get a raise out of you and it’s working - don’t let him win this time like he always does.”

Eddie glances around, eyes meeting with some of the parents that quickly look away. His eyes then connect with yours and suddenly he feels his inside soften and his face slowly release its tension, the lines disappearing from his face.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers.

You shake your head, giving him a small smile. “Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault.”

He opens his mouth but is cut off by the whistle, eyes cutting over to the field. He sees number 8 sitting on the ground, his heart dropping.

His mind was wondering else where and his son is hurt.

He’s walking out onto the field before his mind even registers what his feet are doing and kneeling down. Chance had tears rolling down his cheeks, his small hands covering his knee.

“Hey, Champ,” His heart breaks at the sight of his watery eyes when they quickly dart up at him before looking back down at his hands. He flinches when he feels your hand on his back, rubbing up and down. “Can mommy and I take a look?” He whispers.

He feels a bit claustrophobic when he feels the two coaches looming over his shoulders along with the small kids staring at him.

Chance nods slightly, removing his hands from his knee. Eddie’s hand reaches out and holds his leg, looking at the scratches. “Looks like you just need a quick wipe and bandaid.”

Chance sniffs and slowly stands, bending his leg.

“You wanna wait til we get home? I accidentally forgot the first aid at home.” The little boy nods, sniffling again.

Eddie reaches up and wipes away his tears softly. “You’re so brave. I’m proud of you.”

This causes Chance to smile, cheeks lifting a bit. Eddie gives him a swift peck to the top of his head before standing. “Go get ‘em.” Chance nods quickly.

Eddie grabs your hand, walking off the field and standing on the sidelines again. You lean your head on his shoulder.

“Eds?” He hums a bit. “I love you.”

He smiles a bit, nodding. “I love you.”

⭒

Eddie plops down on the bed, rubbing at his face. Chance’s knee was taken care of, a fresh shower, some nuggets, then he was out like a light when his little head hit the pillow.

Eddie feels like he could pass out when his own head hits the pillow, but there’s a feeling that keeps tugging at his chest.

He doesn’t know if it’s anger, sadness, or confusion.

anger because he couldn’t put Jason Carver into place like he absolutely wanted to. Anger because he missed half of Chance’s game because of him.

Sadness because Chance has to deal with people already laughing at him - it’s much worse when a grown up does it.

Confusion because he doesn’t know what he did in wrong his life to deserve what people say about him and his family.

Eddie always felt like he was nice enough - not judging others and including them in a conversation when he felt as if they weren’t being heard or he noticed the look on their face when they felt left out of the conversation.

And there’s a constant nagging in his mind that he always hears in his subconscious.

You’re not cut out to be a father - you’re going to go downhill soon.

And the worse part about it, he actually believes he’s going to go down hill. His father once was a nice man, caring. Then Wayne said when his mom got sick, he turned bitter and mean.

And the worse part about that was she got sick when she was pregnant with Eddie. So that bitterness was because of Eddie.

Edward Munson - the person who caused people to feel bitter when he showed his face. The person who only seemed to give people bad luck when he showed up.

Sarah, his mother who was a soft person with kind words, should’ve saved herself. Not him. She should be here. Then maybe his dad would’ve been okay.

Everyone would’ve been okay.

“Babe?” He blinks, glancing at you. He didn’t realize that you had finished getting ready for bed and had snuggled under the covers. He hums slightly. You frown, lifting your hand and wiping at the tears that he didn’t realize had fallen.

“What’s wrong? What’s going on in your mind?” Your thumb traces over his cheekbone. You pay attention to the scar he has nearing his eye. He shakes his head a bit, lip quivering.

He’s afraid that if he talks, it will cause him to sob, then if he sobs, he’ll wake up Chance. He’s already had a rough day today and he needed his sleep.

You frown and move closer to him, pressing a kiss next to his eye, they flutter closer. “Whatever you’re thinking, it isn’t true,” You whisper. “I know you and I know that you’re very hard on yourself - and you shouldn’t be. You know why?”

He turns his head to stare at you, shaking his head a bit.

Your hand splays out against his cheek. “Because you, Eddie, are the absolute best person I know with the biggest heart. And I’m so proud of how far you’ve come and achieved.”

He smiles, although it’s a bit shaky. “What did I do to deserve you?”

You shrug, nudging your nose against his softly. “Just being the absolute best version of you.”

🎸 eddie tags; @lavendermunson, @hazydespair, @whisperingwillowxox

thank you for reading! comments, reblogs, requests, likes, & feedback is always welcomed, encouraged, & deeply appreciated. 🧸

#cherry writes ✿#dad!eddie munson x mom!reader #dad!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #joseph quinn x reader

346 notes · View notes

discount-shades · 1 year

Text

Sleepy Baby Part 2

a/n: I was shocked and flattered about how many people liked the first one. I figured I’d do Part 2.

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin / Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1400 ish

Summary: Despite all evidence to the contrary Jake is still very confident in himself.

Previous Masterlist Next

Jake glances up from the dart board to see who was walking through the door of the Hard Deck. His shoulders slump when it isn’t you. It had been a month since you had played the Village Peoples’ In the Navy and walked out the door after calling him Baby. His friends had laughed at him when you made your dramatic exit. Penny had been delighted that you used the song in the way it was intended when she left it on the jukebox. To knock a pilot down a few pegs. She was known to play the song to tease Maverick.

From the moment he met you, Jake was hooked. Your smile, your laugh, your wit, it was everything about you. If he was being honest with himself it was probably the salute you sent him as you walked out the door that sealed the deal for him. You did not care that he was a pilot. In fact you spent most of your short amount of time with him mocking what most people fawned over him for.

While the pilot schtick got him laid, he always got the impression that the uniform was the key factor. Not himself. Spending most of his time at bars near the base probably didn’t help. They tend to attract a certain clientele.

When you had called him Baby he had been sure you would be back and had taken to spending an inordinate amount of time at the Hard Deck, waiting. He had even promised Penny to buy the bar a round if she would call him if you arrived and he was not there. No luck so far.

“Get over her, man.” Javy sighs at his friend's antics. “You were clearly more into her than she was you.”

“No, she was into me,” Jake insists, throwing a bullseye. “She said she would give me her number next time, well implied she would, but still.” Despite Javy’s laughter at the comment, Jake was sure. He just needed to see you again. “She is probably at a different bar.”

“That is because she is avoiding you, Hangman.”

“She is, but not like you think,” Jake took his time lining up his final shot. “I need to find her to get her number.” As the days of not seeing you back at the Hard Deck passed Jake was becoming more convinced that he needed to go find you.

“You don't even know her name!” Jake could tell Javy was getting exasperated. “And there must be thousands of bars and pubs in San Diego. How are you going to find her?”

Jake threw his final dart and hit the bullseye again. Turning he grinned at his friend, “But, she said she worked with kids at the library,” a plan was forming in his mind. “I’ll just visit her at work!”

“This is starting to slip closer into ‘stalker territory’ than I am comfortable with.” Javy said, rubbing his head. “How many libraries are in San Diego anyway?”

“There are 34 libraries within San Diego City limits, and another 33 in the surrounding county.” Bob said from behind them, reading from his phone.

Jake and Javy startled and spun around. “How long have you been sitting there?” Jake asked.

“Again, I've been here the whole time.”

Jake pointed his finger at Bob. “Phoenix doesn't hear about this!”

“No promises.”

…

Jake pulled his truck into the library parking lot and gently laid his head on the steering wheel. This will be the 42nd library he has checked, and the last one within city limits. It has been six weeks since he has started looking for you and he has his spiel down.

He’d introduce himself and apologize for forgetting the name of the woman who he had previously spoken to. She had mentioned some great kids programs for his niece who he will be watching for his sister who is on a business trip. Polite description of your features, hide his disappointment when he is told that no one matching your description works there. Graciously accept the brochure of the Children's Activity Program and on to the next library.

The good news is that if Evie ever did come to stay with him for a few weeks he would be set on activities for a seven year old to do. He sighed and got out of his truck and made his way toward the door.

…

You are in your office ordering caterpillars for the yearly butterfly program your library puts on. After putting the caterpillar kit in your online cart you click the sale tab on the website to see if there is anything else the library needs. The first item is a 3D tic-tac-toe game and you are reminded of him.

It has been over 2 months and, if you are honest, everything still reminds you of him. You regret not giving him your number more than you care to admit. Your therapist was right. You are ready to get back out there. But your heart is still too tender to go back to the Hard Deck and not see him. Or worse, risk him not being interested. He is the one that you let get away.

So every week you still go to a different bar. You make small talk to those around you. But you have not felt the instant chemistry you felt with the pilot. No banter, no jokes. And every time you meet someone who is charming you can't help but compare them to the pilot. And you still don't even know his real name.

“Hi my name is Jake Seresin, I’m looking for some children's programs for my niece.” Your ears perk up as you listen to the front desk through the open doorway. When the man describes speaking with a woman who matches your description you search your memories for men you have spoken to recently.

There was the man with a wedding ring who had hit on you. A single dad who had just signed his son up for everything, no questions asked, and someone who looked like a teenager who was looking for activities for his younger siblings. No uncles that you remembered.

“Our Activity Coordinator is in that office,” you hear your coworker say, “she is the one you need to talk to.”

You sit straight in your chair and look up, ready to greet the person walking through your door and your breath catches in your throat. It's him, looking just as good in jeans and a t-shirt. The pilot. Your pilot. He is smiling so widely when he sees you his whole face is lit up.

“Hugs and Kisses, you are a hard woman to track down.”

You press your lips together trying not to smile as widely as you want to. “I figured you were up for the challenge, Sleepy Baby," you reply.

“This is the 42nd library I have checked to see if you worked at.” He sits down in the chair across from your desk. “The thought of your smile was the only thing that kept me going.”

“Well 42 is the meaning of everything.”

“Oh Darling, you are the meaning of my everything.”

You give in and laugh, grinning so much your cheeks hurt. “I liked the imaginary niece in your story,” you lean back in your chair matching his posture. “Who did you steal her from?”

“Oh Evie is mine and very real.” He assures you. “My sister's daughter, she’s seven and happens to be delighted when she hangs me every time we play hangman.”

“A girl after my own heart,” you smile at the way his face lights up when he talks about Evie. “You let her win, don't you?”

“I do.” He admits looking slightly distressed. “She is the type who would steal imaginary kittens too and I can't help but love her for it.” You both laugh at his confession.

You sit for a moment, smiling at each other across the desk. “I’m Jake, and I never did get your name or number.”

You smile at him before leaning over and picking up a blank piece of paper off your desk. You carefully draw the number of lines for letters in your name and ten lines for the digits in your phone number. You hold up the paper with a cheeky grin. “Well Jake, my name and number, I’ll play you Sleepy Baby for it?”

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #topgun maverick #top gun hangman #hangman/reader #hangman #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #hangman top gun #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin/reader #top gun x reader

1K notes · View notes

bettyfrommars · 1 year

Text

I'm on Fire

Chapter 1: Black No. 1

biker!Eddie Munson x fem!artist!Reader

Part 1

Series Masterlist

🚨18+ Only, older!Eddie, tow truck driver Eddie, biker!Eddie, alcohol consumption, sex with someone other than reader, cheating (not on reader), slightly fuckboy!eddie, adult themes. Y/N is used several times in the first few chapters, and I apologize for that. This was the very first reader insert series ever, and it's insane how much the characters and story have grown. I really appreciate those who have been on this journey with me, and those who continue to want to read it!

Word count: 3.3k

There is an instant spark of chemistry between you and the guy who rescues you from the side of the freeway in his tow truck, courtesy of Munson's Garage. While you've never met him before, your roommate has, and you learn a few things about Eddie Munson while he indulges in one of his late-night extracurricular activities, which is just one facet of the dark secrets in his life.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to have a crush on your tow truck driver.

One second, you’re cruising along the freeway, blasting Linger by The Cranberries, looking forward to the future, and the next---your tire blows and you’re on the side of the road questioning when you will ever catch a break. You were trying to remember how far back the last payphone was as traffic sped by, blowing your hair into your face, when a big, mean looking, black tow truck with Munson’s Garage written on the door slowed down and pulled in front of you.

The guy behind the wheel waited for a few cars to buzz by before he dropped down from the cab, boots hitting the pavement, and made his way over to you. He’s wearing his long, dark hair tied back in a ponytail, black jeans with a wallet chain hanging at his thigh, and a button down blue work shirt that says Eddie on it. He’s muscular in a manual labor way, and you spot a few tattoos at first glance, just as he closes the distance between you.

“Come here often?” He asked, the side of his mouth lifting up as he squinted against the sun.

You hesitated, because you weren’t prepared for jokes, and then you shrug. “Yeah, I live here. It’s cozy, shame it’s so close to the freeway.”

He takes a pair of gloves out of his back pocket and you notice his warm, brown sugar eyes take a quick sweep up and down your body. “In that case, I might have to visit more often.”

You also weren’t ready for the teasing, sexual banter, but you could give as well as you got. “Careful. I bite.”

Of course, you don’t have a spare tire, and so the next option is for him to tow you back to his garage. He tells you to get comfortable in the cab of the truck while he hooks your car on.

Inside, you notice that it’s an older cab, but it’s clean and well taken care off. There’s an Iron Maiden sticker on the glove compartment, and a vanilla tree-shaped air freshener hanging from the CB radio. You scoot over, curious as a kitten, to see what other little pieces of his life you can pick up from the area, when you see photo of a little kid, maybe 2 years old, taped to the top of his dash. The toddler had thick dark hair and big, dark eyes, and you realize he must be a dad—the kid looked just like him. You remembered looking at his strong hands before he put his gloves on, and you didn’t see any rings, but most people in his profession chose not to wear them when they worked, as a safety precaution.

He climbed up into the cab behind the steering wheel and took his gloves off, stuffing them in the console between you, apologizing for how long it took. In your mind, he’d only been out there five minutes, but—time flies when you’re being a snoop.

The radio blared loud the second he turned the engine on (Would? by Alice in Chains) and you jumped in your seat, a yelp escaping your throat.

He cringed and turned the volume down. “My bad,” he laughed a little, giving you a wink when you look over at him, your palm flat on your chest, adrenaline coursing through you.

His shop was almost a half hour away, and the conversation stayed light. He asked you what you did for work, and when you told him that you were on staff at a gallery, but you wished you could be a full time artist—he was one of the few people in your whole life who didn’t make fun of you for it.

“You have no idea how much I relate to that,” he said, almost under his breath, shifting the truck into another gear.

You asked him how long he’d been in the area and he replied, “too long.”

He got quiet for a few minutes, and you shifted your eyes covertly to catch his jaw muscles flexing, like he was deep in thought about something he didn’t want to be thinking about.

You adjusted yourself on the vinyl seat with a creak of the upholstery. “So, did you grow up here?”

He opened his mouth for a beat, and then closed it again, as if he didn’t like the answer he was about to give. “I grew up all over the place. But I went to high school here, and then I left, and then I came back.”

You pulled your bottom lip over your top lip, looking out the window at a sea of fat cows grazing in a big, grassy field.

“I’m sure there are worse places to be,” you said aloud, although you meant for it to be a silent thought.

He scoffed. “You must be new here. Give it time.”

He had his hand high on the wheel, and he looked sideways over his arm at you. You could tell he wanted to ask you more, and you wanted to ask the name of the cute kid in the photo on his dash—but it suddenly felt like it was all getting too personal.

There was sudden static on the CB radio and the voice of an older man came through the speaker. “Munson, what’s your 20?”

Eddie reached over to take the handheld receiver off the hook under the glove compartment, the back of his hand brushing your knee as he did so.

He pushed the button on the side as he held it to his mouth. “On I-90, just passed Little River, on my way back.”

He let go of the button so that the other man could speak.

“Charlene dropped the Jaguar off again. Not a damn thing wrong with it, but she asked for you, specifically.”

Eddie swallowed, his eyes shifting to you, as if he was embarrassed or self-conscious about the conversation.

“...I told her I’d bring it by on my way home after work.”

The other end was silent for a bit and then, the older man gave a heavy sigh. “Son, I hope you’re not doing what I think you’re--”

“Talk to you when I get there, Wayne. I’ve got a customer in the cab with me,” and then Eddie hung up the receiver and switched the radio off with a click.

Back at Munson’s Garage you called your best friend, Katie, who you were supposed to meet for lunch, to talk her down from the ledge she was on, panicking over where you were.

“At first, I wanted to murder you, and then--” As Katie is talking, you see Eddie give you a thumbs up from across the garage to let you know the tire was on and your car was ready, and you mirrored the gesture. “...and then I was like, wait, maybe she’s in a ditch somewhere….and you were!”

Like any self-respecting, horny friend would, she asked if the tow truck driver that picked you up was hot while on the phone with you.

You’re watching Eddie pick up two tires and fling them onto a pile like they weighed nothing, muscles flexing in his forearms and hands; he catches you staring and smiles almost accidentally at you over his shoulder, before turning away. “Not really, I mean, if you like that sort of thing, I guess.”

There was a teenage boy at the front desk who looked like he was in training, and with shaking hands, he tallied you up for the price of the tow and the tire.

“Just the tire,” Eddie came up behind him, wiping his fingers on a rag. “The tow is on the house,” he lifts his eyes to you, and then looks down to make sure the kid got it right.

You thanked him, and as you were leaving, you saw the long, sleek, white Jaguar convertible with leather seats parked at the far end of the garage. You wondered who Charlene was, and why she chose that particular garage over all of the other high end, specialty repair shops in the area.

---------

That night, you were snuggled in front of a Golden Girls episode, dissociating in your bathrobe on the couch with your orange, long haired tabby cat named Charlie, when Katie, who was also your roommate, got home after a meeting at the high school where she taught English and creative writing.

“I didn’t get into an accident,” you assured her, turning the sound down on the TV. “I just blew a tire. I’ll still be able to make it to work tomorrow, unfortunately.”

The next night was a huge artist opening at the gallery, and all of the mucky mucks usually attended to buy high priced art and drink free champagne.

“Hey,” you went to the kitchen to squirt some of your cheap, refrigerated box wine into some glasses and brought one over to Katie. “You’ve lived here longer than I have. Do you know a woman named Charlene who drives a super fancy white, Jaguar convertible?”

“Charlene Gregson? The ex-supermodel, the wife of millionaire CEO John Gregson, the ones who just happen to have a summer home near here on the lake?”

You put your wine glass to your lips. “Sure, I mean, I guess. Does she drive a white Jaguar?”

Katie curled up at the other end of the couch and wrapped a blanket over her. “They have a ten car garage at their mansion, so I’m sure she has one in every color.”

“Wait, how do you know this?” You put your elbow on the top of the couch to rest your hand on your fist, squinting at your roommate.

Katie took a big gulp of her wine. “My sister, the one who runs her own carpet cleaning business, she’s been out there. They have these antique rugs that need to be cleaned a certain way.”

“So, she’s married?” You asked, feeling like you’re asking the same question over and over without actually asking it.

Katie shrugs. “As far as I know they still are. I mean, what happened? Did you run into her or something?”

You didn’t feel like retelling the entire debacle, so you trimmed it down a bunch. “I saw that car at the garage when I got my tire fixed, and someone mentioned that it belonged to her.”

Katie gave you a curious look.

You turned and noticed the way she was staring at you. “What?” You laughed as you asked it, turning your gaze back to the TV.

“So,” Katie said, her eyebrow raised. “Forget about Charlene. Tell me more about this tow truck guy. Is he single? Is he tall? Does he have sexy hands?”

You rolled your head to rest it on the back of the sofa. “Do you know a guy named Eddie?”

Katie ran her tongue over her teeth, thinking.

“He drives a tow truck? Works at Munson’s Garage?”

An invisible light bulb seemed to blink on above Katie’s head. “Eddie...Eddie Munson?”

The way she asked it gave you pause; your eyes shifted, and then you shrugged, “I didn’t ask for his last name, but I guess so.”

Katie tilted her head back, eyes wide. “Holy shit, I haven’t seen him around in a minute. He used to sell weed back in the day. I bought some from him a few times when I first moved here after college. But he left town for a year or two, I didn’t know he was back.”

You squished air around in your mouth, puffing your cheeks out as you listened to her. “Well, he’s back. He put a new tire on my car and he didn’t even break a sweat.”

“I remember him being...really hot, in like, a metalhead way,” Katie sipped her wine again. “Does he still have the long hair?”

You nodded, staring at the TV vacantly, picturing him in your mind as clearly as if he were right in front of you. You asked Katie if Eddie had a kid, and she had no idea. “The last time we smoked at his trailer, he was single with no kids, but that was—oh shit---a good 6 years ago.”

The next revelation made Katie jump as she remembered it: “Oh! He was in a band, too. The name had something to do with rust or decay, I never saw him play though, Dan and the rest of his D&D nerd friends worshiped him.” Dan was Katie’s younger brother by two years, and he asked you on a date a while back, but you turned him down, respectfully, being that you didn’t want it to mess with your friendship with Katie.

“That’s his garage, he runs it with his uncle.” Katie corrected your earlier statement. “There’s a rumor that it’s also a clubhouse for the Coffin Kings motorcycle gang, but who knows. In a town like this, there are a lot of rumors.”

You thought about his visible tattoos, including the cluster of bats near his elbow, some kind of monsterous puppet thing on his inner forearm, and there was something spelled out across his fingers, but you couldn’t read what it said.

There is an interlude in your conversation with nothing but canned laughter from the sitcom on TV, and then Katie changes the subject, recalling a dramatic story having to do with one of her colleagues that happened earlier that day.

-------

Eddie waited until everyone was gone before he closed up the garage, noticing that the new kid forgot to sweep the lobby, so he did it himself, mumbling about how it was hard to find good help these days. He had the Jaguar already loaded on the truck, but he needed to wait until after 8 to drop it off at her place.

Charlene was pulling his shirt up and undoing his belt, her mouth on his throat, as soon as she locked the front door behind him. He grabbed onto her wrists and held her in place, forcing her to back up as he walked forward.

There were several Magnum wrappers on the floor by the time he left her there after their final fuck in the shower. He picked up the evidence of their affair and took the wrappers with him, thinking that he couldn’t remember the last time he was with someone he cared about and trusted enough to not use some kind of protection. That same dark voice in his head told him that he’d never get that close to anyone ever again. “Get used to it, buddy. You’ll be alone forever,” the voice snickered.

------

Mrs. John Waterberry, who lived in the house across from Charlene Gregson, grabbed her 78 yr old husband by the arm just as they were getting ready for bed. She could see the tow truck pull up into Charlene’s driveway from their bedroom window.

“That’s five times in two months, John,” Mrs. Waterberry scampered for the binoculars in the desk drawer, putting them to her eyes and pointing them at the house. “Who on earth needs to have their brand new car towed that often?”

John Waterberry fussed to put his glasses back on and watched the big, black truck lower the delicate, expensive Jaguar to the ground with care. “I don’t give a damn, Louisa, let’s go to bed.”

Behind her, John got into bed and turned the lamp by the bed off, but Mrs. Waterberry hid behind the curtain and watched as the strange tattooed boy with the long hair went over and knocked at the front door. When Charlene answered, she was in her a skimpy bathrobe!

“John!” Mrs. Waterberry called to her husband. “She invited him inside again! I told you! Her husband away on a golfing trip and now this.”

“It’s none of our business, Louisa,” John mumbled, turning over on his side, facing away from her.

Mrs. Waterford ended up falling asleep, but her eyes snapped open when she heard the low grumble of the tow truck starting up again. She looked at the digital alarm clock on the nightstand: it was almost 1:00 in the morning.

------

Eddie popped a cigarette into his mouth and rolled the window down, turning his music up in the cab of the tow truck as soon as he was out of the gated lake community. (Black No. 1 – Type O Negative)

"I went looking for trouble, and boy, I found her,

she's in love with herself

she likes the dark

and on her milk white neck

the Devil's mark..."

He should’ve been feeling good, but the frown on his face was giving him a headache, his body telling his mind there was something wrong. He happened to catch a flicker out of the corner of his eye and turned to see a shiny sliver of something on the floorboard of his truck. He made sure there were no cars around and bent down to stretch his hand out and swoop it up. It was an earring; a little silver hoop, and he realized, with sigh, that it must’ve belonged to the woman he had in his truck earlier that day. The one who worked at an art gallery and didn’t have a spare tire in her car. The one with cute, quirky mannerisms and the beautiful eyes.

He sped up and shifted into the next gear, cigarette between his lips, and slipped the earring into his front pocket.

Finally back at the garage, Eddie parked the truck and opened the side door to get his bike. After a wide straddle and a few kicks of his foot, the Harley started up with a growl, loud pipes spitting, his hand with the metal rings twisting on the high handlebar. He had a gig with his band the next evening, but not until after he escorted Charlene to her function and pretended to be her body guard. The whole town had to know they were fucking; he had a hard time believing they were all so morbidly clueless.

While he shot down the highway on his chopper with the wind in his face, he reached over to feel for the outline of your earring in his pocket, and realized with a tiny flutter in his gut, that he had a valid excuse to look you up and see you again.

Part 2

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #stranger things smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson series #fem reader

661 notes · View notes

strlstlvr · 10 months

Text

LOVER IS A DAY, the moment you realized you loved them ♡

- no matter how long you’d already been with him, this was the moment the feelings you had for him hit you like a truck

⋆·˚ ༘ * FLUFF AND MORE FLUFF, lil angsty on seungmins😖

BANG CHAN

Last night you had come over on a whim, texting Chan ‘why aren’t you asleep it’s 2am?’ And before he could text back you were already at his dorm, in your pjs ready to spend a comfy night beside him.

You actually hadn’t meant to fall asleep but the next morning when you opened your eyes, instead of seeing your own room you were met with Chan’s face facing yours.

You’ve seen his sleeping face before but something about waking up to it had your heart racing like never before. Eventually his eyes fluttered open and he smiled softly at you, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

You laugh and reply, “Channie, you’re so beautiful. I love you.” That catches him off guard but he immediately replies, “I love you too Y/n L/n”, and presses his lips onto yours

LEE MINHO

You don’t know what it was or how it happened but at the moment you were hanging off your bed holding onto the trash can next to your bed as your boyfriend comes back into the room with water and medicine.

“No offense but i don’t think you should’ve accepted the cookies your little cousin made”, he says handing you the water and sitting next to you. You accept the water and chug as much of it as you could afterwards wiping your mouth, “you’re probably right, unfortunately”, and lay your head on his shoulder.

A moment of peace and quiet sets the mood for you two, the only time you’ve had to relax since getting back home. “Thank you for taking care of me, I love you”, it took you a moment to realize what you’d said but before you could apologize, he beat you to it, grabbing your face and staring into your eyes, “I love you too Y/n”.

SEO CHANGBIN

Currently, you were at Changbin’s dorm watching him play hide and seek with his cousin’s 3 year old daughter. It surprised you to see how much his cousin’s depended on and trusted your boyfriend to watch their kid.

It felt different to watch him as he played and laughed with the 3-year old, you had never seen him like this before. He was playful yet gentle, it started making you wonder ‘what would he be like if it was his own kid?’.

“What are you thinking about in that pretty head of yours?”, Changbin asks, pulling you out of your thoughts as he kisses your head and sits next to you. For a moment you just stare at him, admiring him because in a matter of minutes everything about him just became way more attractive.

The way his hair was curly and natural, his face had not a spot of makeup, and he was only in sweats and a hoodie, it’s made your heart feel like it was going to jump out of your chest. “Y/n is everything okay?”, he asks grabbing your face and examining it to see if he could figure out what was wrong. “Seo Changbin, i’m in love with you and everything about yo-“, and before you could continue your rant he interrupts it by placing his lips on yours.

HWANG HYUNJIN

Hyunjin hadn’t seen you before the concert so he didn’t know you had gone all out like any other fan did, you had a poster with his name on it, an exact replica of your favorite concept outfit of his, and your lightstick bedazzled.

You decided not to look at the set list as to be surprised but hearing the beginning of red lights had you more shocked than you had ever been before. You’ve seen him perform red lights so many times (also watched the mv a billion times) but this time something about Hyunjin’s presence was different.

When they stopped performing and it was time for the boys to talk to stays, hyunjin immediately went to find your face in the crowd and as soon as he did you yelled, “I LOVE YOU HWANG HYUNJIN!”, causing him and the rest of his group to pause as they recognized your voice and it caught them off guard.

The rest of the group laughed trying to play it off while hyunjin picks up him mic and replies, “I love you too” and followed it with a wink. Videos of the interaction were everywhere and you were known as ‘the luckiest stay’ when in reality it was just an unforgettable moment between you and your boyfriend.

HAN JISUNG

“Jisung just let me in, PLEASE”, you beg to your boyfriend that’s on the other side of the kitchen door. “NO you cannot see this, it needs to be perfect for your birthday!”, he pleads, you could tell things weren’t going his way as for the past 30 minutes that you’ve been awake all you’ve heard are his frustrated huffs.

“Ji please, how long have you been in there for?”, you question and before he could answer Felix does it for him passing by behind you, “He’s been in there for the past 2 hours”. “Alright 2 hours is long enough, i’m coming in Ji”, you say and push open the door.

Looking around you can see tons of decorations that he had hung up and in the middle of the kitchen is your boyfriend that looks like he’s been through hell and back staring down at the floor. “Ji this is perfect why wouldn’t you let me come in?”, you say walking up to him and forcing him to look at you, “It’s not the decorations y/n, it’s the cake.”, he says and points to the table.

Looking at the cake you cover your mouth trying to hold in your laugh, “I asked Felix to help me bake you a cake but obviously I can’t even follow instructions”, the cake in front of you was lopsided because somehow only half of the cake baked fully.

You throw your arms over your boyfriend and give him a kiss on the cheek, “I love you Ji, thank you for trying.” His face immediately turns to yours, “You love me? But I ruined your birthday!” “You didn’t ruin anything, I promise. Now let’s try baking this cake again”, you laugh as he tackles your face in kisses at your confession.

LEE FELIX

One thing that you and felix always did when the weather was nice, was ride your bikes together. This time you guys had gone a little bit later than you usually did and got to witness the sunset during your whole ride.

Looking over to your boyfriend who’s inhaling the fresh air, you can tell he needed this. The golden sun leaving a warm feeling on your face but when you see Felix’s big smile, that warm feeling spreads to the rest of your body.

Finally stopping at a park, you guys have a good view of the sunset but you can’t seem to take your eyes off the blonde boy next to you. The golden rays of the sun completely maximizes the freckles on his perfectly tanned skin, you’re completely mesmerized by how one person can look so perfect.

You decide to pull your phone out to take pictures of him, this moment should be cherished forever. “Hey! You’re not even looking at the sunset!”, he whines once he notices that you had your phone out taking pictures of him. “I’d rather look at you honestly, you’re way prettier than any sunset Lix.”

KIM SEUNGMIN

Seungmin slammed the door behind him as he walked into the dorms, he had just got back from a meeting with the company, your relationship had been leaked. You had stayed in the same spot he left you in, your anxiety was through the roof after you had seen your guys’ face all over twitter.

You were nervous you didn’t know what words were going to come out of your boyfriend’s mouth. “They said we have to deny it. They already made the statement and everything, I tried to convince them but you know they wouldn’t budge.”, he angrily sighs as he sits next to you and puts his head in his hands.

You took a big deep breath in, “Did they say anything about us?”, it was a question you didn’t want to know the answer to nor want to ask but you had to. “They told us we shouldn’t see each other anymore and that this could ruin mine and the rest of the groups career and image.”, he says while keeping his head down.

You knew what JYP was like so while this answer didn’t surprise you it still hurt, so you get up to leave. “Y/n where are you going?”, “Seungmin the last thing I want is to get in the way of your dream so I think we should listen to them”, you explain as your voice gradually becomes more quiet.

He immediately jumps up and grabs your face, “Y/n you’re my dream, you’re all i’ve ever wanted and there’s no way in hell i’d let anyone, ESPECIALLY JYP, get in the way of that”, he stares straight into your eyes while tears begin to build up in his. You sniffle trying to hold back your tears, “If you really mean that seungie, then i’ll stay with you.” Although you felt it first he’s the one that had the courage to say it, “I love you Y/n”.

YANG JEONGIN

Walking into the coffee shop, you were immediately hit with the smell of baked goods and espresso beans, it was a smell that comforted you. You scanned around the room looking for your boyfriend but eventually you landed on his fox-like eyes staring right back at you excitedly.

You walk up to the table he’s sitting at and sit across from him, although you want to hug him you decide not to as you’re in public and don’t want to spread rumors. From just looking at him you could tell he was happy, he had a mask and hoodie on just like you did but nonetheless you were more than happy to be there with him.

The date mainly consisted of the two of you catching up as he had just finished his tour and sipping on your drinks. He also brought out a few bags of gifts that he got you while traveling across the globe, you both laughed at his silly antics and jokes, just enjoying each others company.

As Jeongin continues to talk you begin to study his face, every time you guys finally get to meet up after awhile it seems like he gets more and more attractive. Although you’ve both changed a lot in the while you’ve been dating, you realize he brought you a feeling more comforting than the coffee shop did and that moments like these with Jeongin were ones that you could get used to for the rest of your life.

753 notes · View notes

pjoxreader · 10 months

Note

Can i request hcs with jason,leo, and percy (separately) where they get into the fight and the reader has a panic attack/gets really scared? Ik its kinda specific sorry

They Get In A Fight And Reader Has A Panic Attack

((I unfortunately got hit with the insomnia truck and did an all nighter , So I tried to piece together what little energy I had to get this together! I hope you still like it! 🥲))

TW: Panic Attack, Hyperventilation

Jason Grace

-He was stressed, trying to keep things running in both camps and get the altars set up for all minor gods in both camps wasn’t easy. -”Hey Jason could you-” before you could even finish getting the words out Jason snaps. “Can’t you ask someone else for once!” he yells in frustration but seeing you take a step back in surprise with a look of fear across your face makes him regret every word.

-He felt the guilt hit him like a ton of bricks. ((hehehe)) “Look I’m sorry I…” Before he could finish you start to hyperventilate dropping to the ground. Jason ran to your side in a second.

-”I’m not mad, I’m not. I promise, I’m sorry just… Follow my breathing, ok?” He says gently and takes some deep breaths, helping guide you out of the panic attack. “In… And out…” he says with each breath to make sure you were following along.

-He holds you the entire time gently rubbing your back until you calm down, but the guilt of causing you a panic attack would never leave him…

Leo Valdez

-Leo was a busy man, between his own projects, working on the argo ll, and being the counselor of the Hephaestus cabin he was always busy and always stressed.

-He had been interrupted three times already while he was trying to work on his own personal project, trying to take a break and focus on making something for himself for once. He was just about to start when the door opens *again*...

-”What!?” he snaps in frustration going wide eyed in surprise when he hears a shatter. He could feel his heart sink a bit as you looked at him with worry trying to pick up the shards of a broken plate. “I… I’m sorry.. I… I just wanted to bring you some food…” You choke out, voice quivering slightly.

-Leo quickly goes over, taking your hand to stop you from grabbing the shard. “Careful, don’t touch the shards.” he says anxiously before he lets out a quiet sigh as he felt the guilt eating away at him already. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to scare you.” his voice was just above a whisper as he could feel your hands were shaking.

-You just hug him tightly, not being able to get any words out as he hugs you tightly in return. He rubs gentle soothing circles onto your back to try and help calm you but he felt his own lip quiver slightly as the guilt was still creeping inside of his mind even after apologizing.

Percy Jackson

-Percy was trying to get some time alone in his cabin to calm down and take a breather. He was summoned for **ANOTHER** quest. He was getting sick and tired of quests and fighting some monster who had beef with the gods.

-A knock on the door snaps him from his attempt to calm down, making him grind his teeth in frustration. If Lester was standing outside his door again he was going to kill him himself. He storms over and slams open the door. Fully expecting some god here to make his life harder.

-To his surprise there you were jumping in shock since he had slammed the door open. The two of you stare at each other and Percy could see just how tense and nervous you were. He tries to speak but no words come out so you speak up first.

-”I… I just wanted… To check on you.” you admit softly with a sheepish laugh that turns into a little gasp as you start to hyperventilate. You had unfortunate memories with slamming doors so they often caused a panic attack.

-Panic hits Percy too as he quickly leads you inside, sitting you down on the bed. “I… I didn’t mean too… I thought you might be…” he takes a shaky breath and holds you close knowing there was nothing he could really say to excuse his actions right now.

-”I’m sorry.” he admits genuinely. He holds you close trying to help soothe you, resting his head over yours to help ensure you knew he was right there with you.

~Masterlist & Rules~

Like my writing? Please consider sending me a Ko-fi! ☕

#pjo #hoo #pjo x reader #hoo x reader #percy jackson #leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #percy jackson x reader #jason grace x reader #jason grace

618 notes · View notes

chvnnie · 1 year

Note

Okay: but like break-up sex with chan?

He wants children but you don't and I'm imagining just praise, tears and adoringly looks of love and pain.

me: happily opens asks

angst: exists

me: typing through tears

SMUT - MINORS DNI

The last truck left a little over an hour ago, memories tucked away in pink tubs and light brown, flimsy boxes. You’re only moving across town, there was really no reason to hire movers. But each time you touched a tub, or a box, everything returned to you. Why your stuff was packed away, the five hour “argument” last week.

Was it even an argument? Maybe it started that way. He had come home late. Mail in hand, excited to show you an announcement Changbin had sent. You smiled when you opened it, sharing in your partner’s joy.

“I can’t wait for that to be us.”

And then it crashed. Voices raised in frustration, pain. Tears flooding the tiny kitchen as you both walked in circles. Back and forth, back and forth, until your voice was raw and his eyes were on fire. It was just past four in the morning, and your back was against the fridge. Chan sat directly across from you, head rolled back against the cabinet. He’s sniffling, and you’re exhausted.

“What now?”

All things considered, it was amicable. There was no resentment on either end; both of you knew this could be possible. Though you both hoped and hoped someone would budge. Change their mind.

Neither of you did, and thus ended the most beautiful thing on the planet. The apocalypse on the horizon, each second more precious than the last. When a love like this dies, so does everything around it.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

The front door opens. Shuts. Heavy, familiar footsteps up the stairs. Turn to the right, reach for the bedroom door handle—

But the door is propped open. And inside you sit, knees to chest. Chin on knees. Tears in eyes.

“I didn’t want to leave until you got back.”

Chan nods, trying to focus his attention on anything but how drastically different the bedroom looks. Even if there aren’t any noticeable changes, he can tell the difference. There’s something missing. As if without it, there’s no life.

“Thank you.” His voice is raspy. Still heavy with tears.

You simply nod, finally looking at him. Fuck. Fuck, why would you do that? The agony is back, claws and teeth, ripping you to shreds.

At least you won’t have to watch the world implode.

“This sucks.” You bring the heel of your palms to your eyes, rubbing roughly. Don’t cry. Don’t. Do. It.

Chan huffs a laugh. “Yeah. Fucking sucks.”

“Chan, I’m so sorry—“

He waves the apology away. Out the window, as if it never existed. “You have nothing to apologize for. We can’t help our wants.”

Can’t help our wants. Like either of you want this.

You finally stand, feet hitting the hardwood floor. Though the urge to give the room once last look tugs on you, you can’t do it. You’re already barely breathing.

“Hug?”

No is never an option. Not when it comes to him, not when it comes to you. Arms open, Chan accepts your embrace, giving you a firm squeeze. You let your eyes shut, holding back every tear that wants to spill. In the car. Not here.

He cradles the back of your head, pressing a light kiss at the top. “I’m always going to be here, you know? This isn’t the end of us. It’s just…”

He doesn’t finish. He doesn’t need to.

You look up, not leaving his embrace even for a second. “I’m always going to love you, Chan.”

The first tear comes from him. “Always have loved you, and never will stop.”

What is this force? The grounds are crumbling and separating, yet they’re pulling you together. Who kisses first, was it you? Offering a final goodbye? Or him? Desperate to remember your taste?

Does it truly matter?

In the distance, there are explosions. The dusk sky lighting up with a million fireworks. Planets, stars, universes. The end of it all.

You’re certain his shirt came off first. Followed by your sweater, both in a pile by the door. It’s when your back hits the bed that things blur; firsthand accounts are never truly accurate.

How will you remember the end of the world?

Limbs tangled, tongues clashing. Chan knows just how to please you. Deep thrusts, softly pressing your sweet spot. It’s not too fast, but not too slow. The perfect way to love you.

Your knees buckle, thighs twitch. Breaking the kiss, you search your ex’s eyes. In the galaxy, there’s only one thing left. A small, golden orb. Home to you and him.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

“F-fuck.” You say breathlessly. “‘S good. S-so good.”

And he smiles. Oh, how it brightens the room even when the sky is on fire. “Yeah?”

A nod.

“Good.” He grunts as he starts to drag out his thrusts. Making it even better. “That’s what you deserve, angel.”

He’s beautiful. Perfectly sculpted face, wonderful smile, bright eyes. Otherworldly. You’re proud to say he was once yours.

“I love you.” Chan says again. Though you’ll never tire of it, it breaks your soul to hear it. Like this. “Until the end of times. I adore you, my girl.”

You sniffle. Cry. It’s okay. “B-but.”

There’s no need for more.

“You’re always mine.” His voice cracks. “My girl. Until the e-end of time.”

When your lips crash again, the rumbling is louder.

How will you remember the end of the world?

You hope like this.

#skz smut #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #chan smut #skz angst #stray kids angst #bang chan angst #chan angst #chvnnie thots #chvnnie moots

753 notes · View notes

asratery · 10 months

Text

Miguel O’Hara x Spider-Man!Male Reader

You were a member of the spider society, rising quickly to be part of the small circle of Miguel’s most valued members due to your agility and strength even with your strong, tall stature. You and Miguel had a complicated relationship. At least on his end. The man was curious about your quiet nature and selfless behavior. You were a man of few words, being both a Spider-Man as well as hosting a symbiote from your world. You had a dedication to the cause that could compare with Miguel, even placing it over your physical health. Today, Miguel’s carelessness as well as your lack of self care would hit you like a truck.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

cw: masturbation (male), hand obsession, size diff (mentioned), sexual tension (?), sexual implications, use of y/n

Please give criticism 🙏 this is my first time writing as a whole so I’m so sorry if the format is weird and/or if the summary is ass. ALSO THIS IS REALLY LONG (imo) SO I APOLOGIZE. 😭 And pls tell me if i should make a part two. (edit: okay, i calculated and its 5.2K words lmao... my bad)

You don’t remember the last time you visited HQ or even your own dimension. You’d been traveling to various earths and hunting down located anomalies per Miguel’s order.

Your physical conditions were never a worry to you while on your expeditions, simply stitching up whatever injuries you endured before carrying on. Miguel would protest to this behavior of yours, requesting that you return back to HQ for proper medical attention, but you’d quickly dismiss his precautions, having Venom keep your injuries wrapped under it’s tar-like material to avoid bursting any stitches when you were busy tackling your objectives.

You rarely fully involved Venom in your missions. It never objected to your request to remain tucked away while you worked, understanding that you preferred to rely on your own strength to take down opponents.

Miguel sent you on a new array of missions about two weeks ago. They were rather easy for someone of your skill, though it did get annoying when one enemy turned into two, then three, and so on in just one mission. These hiccups never stunted your performance, but they didn’t fail to stress Miguel out. You didn’t fully understand why the man was so anxious whenever you’d go on your missions. He never showed the same worry for the other members of the Spider Society, so what was so different about you?

Miguel had been spending most of his days in his office since you left, his earpiece being filled with the sounds of battle as you took down anomalies on the other end. You preferred not to speak, but with Miguel’s insistence, you were forced to make some noise for him every so often to ease his nerves, whether it be a grunt or a hum. Depending on your mood, some days you’d find it to be overbearing and on better ones, you’d find it to be almost comforting.

‘What is wrong with me.’ Miguel thought to himself, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He’d been sitting in his office chair, clicking around on his keyboard as he watched your marker on the map traveling miles in minutes as you moved around a random Earth, searching for a rumored anomaly. Everything had been going well until he’d heard you breathing heavily on the other end as you stopped to rest for a moment, you raspy pants tickling his ear. He’d immediately dismissed Lyla as he felt his pants tighten at the noises you made, resting his hand over the forming tent in his suit. Fuck, he had to hear your voice. He needed to.

“Y/n? You alright?” Miguel spoke through the earpiece, trying to hide the shakiness in his voice. Y/n didn’t reply with words, opting to hum in acknowledgement. No, that wasn’t enough for Miguel. “Y/n?” Y/n groaned in annoyance at his insistence, but the noise was like heaven in Miguel’s ear. Much more than what he was requesting. “I’m fine.” Y/n replied curtly before continuing his search, his stationary marker starting to move on the map again.

Miguel’s mind was already wandering when he heard y/n groan, but hearing your voice after radio silence for days? He already had a fantasy forming in his head now. There were too many days where you’d hover over him as he briefed you on an upcoming mission, his mind muddled with ideas of you bending him over the table, ripping his suit open and just fucking him over the surface. “Y/n.” Miguel unintentionally groaned out as he pulled his pants down just enough to release his cock from its confines.

“Hm?” Y/n responded in an undertone, oblivious to the intentions behind Miguel’s voice. Miguel pressed a hand over his mouth. He didn’t mean to call your name aloud. “Y-You’re approaching the signal.” Miguel spoke quickly, his heart fluttering at his slip up. You hummed in acknowledgment, a bit confused on why he had to announce it since he equipped your wristwatch with a mini map, but you dismissed it. Miguel quickly muted his mic on the earpiece to avoid making the same mistake. He looked down at his semi, the cool air making it all the more sensitive.

He dipped one of his hands down, sliding his thumb over the slit of his cock as the other turned the volume up on his earpiece, listening to your heavy breathing as you swung through an abandoned city. “Fuck, please.” Miguel murmured under his breath, his eyes fluttering shut as he slid his hand down his length, imagining your larger, calloused hands in its place.

He had to lower the volume of his earpiece to near silence, the sound of the wind hitting your side of the mic disrupting his thoughts. Miguel lightly gripped his cock, sliding his hand back up to the tip, a bead of pre forming at the motion. Gods, he needed to just tell you, but he knew it wasn’t that simple. You were nearly ten years younger than him, being only 23 years old compared to his 30 years of age. You wouldn’t want someone as old as him, much less a man. You probably had women clinging to your arms in your world, and the thought evoked a flare of jealousy in his chest.

Fuck, what would you think of him if you saw him like this? Thrusting into his hand at just the sound of your voice and faraway fantasies.

You’d been making rounds around this damned city. The place was desolate but somehow a fellow spider managed to spot an anomaly when they accidentally entered in the wrong number in an attempt to portal to their own world. Your wristwatch was picking up on a thermal presence, yet you just couldn’t find it. ‘I swear, if it’s underground, I’m dragging Miguel here to take care of this, multiverse be damned.’ You thought to yourself as you swung between rusting skyscrapers.

Your thoughts were cut off by your watch beeping, detecting a thermal signal in close range. That’s weird. You’d already scoured this area. It must’ve moved in the time that you were on the other side of the city. Your eyes were focused on the watch too closely to notice another presence approaching your side. Another anomaly. Wonderful.

Your senses kicked off but it wasn’t as quick as this creature. You were already airborne before you were launched through the window of a skyscraper you were passing, a rib cracking under the pressure your left side endured. ‘Light work.’ You thought to yourself as you kicked up off the floor of the office level you landed in, planting your feet down before launching out the side you were thrown into. You swung your way up to the roof of the high rise, your eyes scanning the surrounding area for the anomaly.

A figure darted across the street below, prompting you to jump off. You never voiced it, but you always loved the adrenaline rush that came with hunting down anomalies. You were a bit surprised at the lack of noise on Miguel’s side of the earpiece, but the thought was quickly brushed aside as you broke your fall with your webs before running into the building the figure was seen entering, your watch leading the way. You ran down multiple sets of stairs, the rapping of the creatures claws along the tiled floor guiding you along.

You shot a web at the side of the creature from the top of the stairway before it could round a corner. You yanked it towards you, disregarding the fact that your feet lost contact with the floor as the two of you met in the middle, tumbling down the stairwell with your bulky arms wrapped around the damned thing. You were able to land a few punches against the hybrid’s feathered body before you were forced to focus on its talons sinking into the muscles of your thigh. You hissed in pain, forming claws on your own hands with Venom’s help before gripping its ankle with one hand and stabbing your claws into the scaled skin above it.

The fucking thing screeched and gods was it loud, nearly forcing Venom to recede back into you before it used its other clawed foot to hit your chest, slamming your back into the stairwell. You gritted your teeth in pain, a drip of blood dripping down your mask from the cut on your brow due to the previous fall. The creature rounded the corner immediately, disappearing from your sight. ‘Of course it’s smart.’ You thought to yourself begrudgingly, your muscles a bit tense from the mission you just pursued prior to entering this world. “Miguel.” You spoke into your mic. No response. No time to wait.

You quickly got to your feet before darting around the corner, suddenly realizing the setting. Of course it lured you to a fucking subway. You were quick on your feet, jumping down to the railway platform before darting down the tunnel, your sharp ears picking up on the sound of the creature’s claws scratching against the metal of the railing as it ran from you. You’d ran so far that you made it to another underground subway stop, spotting a new creature lingering in the area.

‘Here’s the second fucker.’ You thought to yourself as Venom reformed claws around your fingers. You jumped from the railway up to the tiled floor of the platform. The creature spotted you, quickly leaping at you as you returned the gesture. You noted the difference in strength in this one compared to the first anomaly you came across, easily overpowering this one. Just when you were about to sink your claws into its neck, you were launched off to the side, slamming into a solid wall behind you. Another rib cracked at the impact. Wonderful.

The first bastard was back. The two creatures stood side by side as you used the wall as support to rise to your feet. The two freaks of nature stalked around you before launching forward.

“Venom.” You growled out. It didn’t hesitate, enveloping your body in its black tar-like body. You immediately threw the stronger one back, sending it over the platform and onto the railway as you focused your attention on the weaker anomaly.

You were able to land a multitude of hits on this one, weakening it. Just when you were about to stab your claws into its chest, the stronger one recuperated, releasing a deafening scream that incapacitated you, forcing Venom to recede back inside you. The ground shook from the scream, the beams at the subway shaking as dust fell from the ceiling.

‘Fuck, I need to focus on that one or this rusty building is going down on all three of us.’

You were alone now, the scream forcing Venom to retreat. You made circles with the creature, the weaker of the two still recovering on the floor. You made the first move, webbing the feet of the anomaly to the floor before landing a kick straight in its chest.

The creature slammed against another beam. Fuck. Bad move. The ceiling shook again, an unsettling sound of creaking above them. The building was going to collapse at this rate. You needed to keep these two down here while getting back to ground level so you wouldn’t get stuck or worse, killed under the rubble.

“Miguel.” Silence. What the fuck was he doing right now? Just when you were about to approach the now weakened anomaly, you felt the muscle in your thigh tense. You dropped one knee, accidentally slamming it against the tiled floor. You gritted your teeth, the muscle cramping from overworking yourself. Miguel had warned you, and now you were experiencing the outcome. In the midst of Venom attempting to reform around you, you were tackled from behind. The second one was back up.

You swung your now clawed fingers back, moving to plunge your hand into the chest of this anomaly. You were cut short as the other let out another ear-piercing screech, forcing Venom to retreat yet again. The entire bottom level shook now. ‘This building’s going down.’ You thought to yourself. “Miguel,” you shouted into the earpiece, “I need backup, I’m under the apartment buildi—,” your words were cut short as the infrastructure gave out, sending you into darkness.

Miguel was in the midst of cleaning himself up when he heard the low sound of a rumble on the other side of his earpiece. He immediately raised the volume on his earpiece. ‘Shit, shit shit,’ he though to himself, ‘I wasn’t paying attention.’ “Y/n, what’s your status?” Miguel quickly spoke into the mic, turning Lyla back on. Lyla’s hologram reappeared, about to crack a joke before noticing Miguel’s panicked expression as he looked at his monitors, rapidly typing on the keyboard. “Shit—Lyla, call Jess and Hobie to HQ now,” he said quickly before shouting into the earpiece, “Y/n, give me a status update!” Silence. A deadly silence that was interrupted a few minutes later by the sound of a weak wheeze. Y/n.

“Fuck, y/n, what’s your status?” Miguel spoke quickly into his earpiece as he connected the audio to a walkie-talkie. Jessica entered Miguel’s office, Hobie following a few feet behind her. You couldn’t get a word out, a piece of rubble pressing against your torso, cutting your breaths short. Another weak wheeze, this time coming from the walkie. Jessica froze at the noise before quickly swinging up to Miguel’s platform. “Who is that? Is that—Don’t tell me that’s y/n.” She said quickly. Hobie was already analyzing the holographic map on Miguel’s desk, typing the coordinates for your marker into his wristwatch before creating a portal. “Let’s go.”

You let out another weak wheeze, groaning in pain when the rubble shifted. Your right ankle was stinging, likely sprained, and your knee cap fractured from it hitting the tiled floor prior to the collapse. Your side felt wet and the rebar poking out of a chunk of concrete next to you easily explained why. The screech from the anomaly must’ve ruptured an eardrum, since you could feel the ticklish trickle of blood leaking out of your ear. Your earpiece was knocked out, hidden somewhere in the rubble that pinned you down as you heard the distant sound of Miguel’s panicked voice coming from it. ‘Wonderful timing, boss.’ You thought to yourself as you let out a pained coughed, your throat coated in dust. Your vision started to fade in the midst of you trying to count how many fractures your ribs incurred.

The trio wasn't enough to get you out of the rubble, having to call over a dozen other spider people to aid in the search for you. The only thing keeping Miguel’s hopes up was the presence of a pulse that your wristwatch was picking up, Lyla closely monitoring it for any changes as per Miguel’s orders. He could feel his heart cracking at the edges at the sight of a few spider people gently pulling your unconscious body from under the rubble. They immediately applied pressure to your side due to a large gash from a piece of rebar as Miguel quickly opened a portal back to HQ, rushing you to the medical wing of the building.

Your eyes were hazy when you opened them, taking a few moments to adjust to the bright hospital lights, though the dizziness stayed. You reached a hand up to the nasal cannula, taking note of the tug from the IV in your arm. An IV. A cannula. Bright lights. You hated hospitals with a passion. You shot up in the bed, your body wracked with pain from both a terrible concussion as well as the broken ribs. Strong hands firmly gripped your shoulders, gently guiding you to lay back down on the bed as a soothing voice murmured to you, though you couldn't make out the words. You complied, reluctantly, though majorly because you didn't have the strength to protest.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you focused on a breathing technique to try and ease some of the pain from your array of broken and fractured ribs, though the pain was still agonizing even when you inhaled. Thank god for your pain tolerance, or this could be a lot more unbearable than it already is. You could faintly hear Miguel's unintelligible voice, but he kept a low tone to accomodate your ruptured eardrum. You felt soft fingers stroking the top of your left hand. Jess. She was on your left, Miguel on your right. You could feel a weight on your left leg. Pavitr. Gods, the boy looked up to you like you were an older brother to him. You couldn't imagine how stressed he must be to see you in this state.

You opened your eyes again after about ten minutes, slowly blinking as you let your eyes adjust to the harsh lighting above you. After you finally gained a good enough level of clarity, your sharp eyes began darting around the room, grabbing every little detail you could pick up without tilting your concussed head. You made eye contact with Jessica, who was tracing soft patterns into your forearm as she looked at you, a soft look in her eyes. She was like an older sister to you in a way, and even though you never acknowledged this, she knew.

Your eyes shifted over to Pavitr, who was sat in a chair closer to the end of the bed, practically hugging the lower half of your left leg. You had a brace around your right ankle and could feel the tight gauze wrapped around your thigh, hidden under the blankets. Your abdomen felt very snug, being tightly wrapped in gauze as well due to what you assumed was that wet feeling on your side from when you were under the rubble. The cut on your brow had a stitch and your lip was busted.

You could feel the tickle of Miguels breath against your upper arm, but you never looked over at him. His left hand was gripping your thick tricep like a lifeline while his right remained intertwined with yours. You refused to look at the man, and rightfully so. Had he been paying attention instead of getting distracted by god knows what, you wouldn't be in this uncomfortable situation. "Summary?" You asked Jessica in a raspy voice, your eyes were half-lidded as they focused on Pavitr's sleeping figure.

Miguel answered for Jessica. It ticked you off. You didn't want to hear his voice right now. "Sprained ankle, laceration in your right side, two fractured ribs, three broken, grade three concussion, gash in your right thigh, fractured knee cap, and a few cuts and bruises," Miguel replied quickly, "your lung collapsed, so you had a chest tube in but it was removed yesterday morning." You had a question on the tip of your tongue, but you knew Miguel would answer it before Jess could. "You've been out for six days." Miguel murmured, unknowingly answering said question. "We were worried sick." Bullshit. You had to resist the urge to say it aloud. This wouldn't have happened had he been paying attention and heard at least one of your three call outs.

Jess could see the anger flickering in your narrowed eyes as you focused on Pavitr again in an attempt to calm your nerves. She could feel your fingers twitching against her hand as you took quiet breaths. She was sure Miguel could feel the motions in your fingers too, since the man had his hand tightly threaded with yours. You didn’t have energy to be angry right now. You could feel a wave of exhaustion coming over you, making your eyelids heavier than they already were. You succumbed to the feeling, your eyes slowly shutting.

‘He didn’t even look at me.’ Was a repetitive thought in Miguel’s head over the next few weeks. He took notice in that behavior. How could he not? He didn’t blame you, but it didn’t stop him from feeling a flicker of jealousy when he saw you and your goddamn face on the cameras and how you looked at all the spider people who visited you with kindness. You even gave little smiles to a few with that pretty face of yours—Fuck, he needed to talk about that.

Miguel didn’t get too many chances to visit you throughout the weeks and when he did manage to, you were already asleep by the time he got there. He’d pull a chair next to your bed, staring at you in ways he didn’t could only dream of compared to when you were awake. He'd spend a few hours every other night just… analyzing you. Counting every vein that traveled up your forearm, staring at the thick lashes on your lower waterline, the broad chest that peeked out of your hospital shirt—Gods, how could you be equal parts pretty and handsome?

Tonight was the same routine, Miguel had snuck into the medical wing way past visiting hours, slinking into your hospital room. He stood in the doorway, listening to the quiet whistling sound your nose made when you inhaled as confirmation that you were asleep. He stepped in, sliding the door shut behind him before grabbing a chair at the entry, picking it up and gently setting it on the floor at your bedside.

He took a seat before pulling a small metal object from his pocket. A nail clipper. Miguel had noticed that your nails had gained a bit of length, not much, but enough for him to notice. Definitely not because he wanted a reason to touch your hands. He carefully sat himself on the edge of your hospital bed before gently lifting your hand that still had an IV in it.

The horny bastard nearly moaned at how heavy your hand felt in his. How were you so strong? You barely had free time to work out with how often you were hunting anomalies and there was no way chasing those guys alone would be enough, right? He carefully set your hand on his thigh, the warmth emitting from you causing a smile to spread across his face. Gods, this felt wrong.

The room was silent besides the occasional clicking noise of the nail clipper as he worked through your first hand, making sure to carefully round the edges of your nails. Your hands were so nice, saliva pooling in Miguel’s mouth that he had to swallow down as he ran the pads of his fingers over every vein that traveled up the top of your hand. His mind was wandering and god your fingers were thick. The thoughts came before he could stop them, imagining you sliding your heavy digits into his mouth, coating them in his saliva before sliding them inside him one by one—

Miguel leaned over you, gently lifting your untreated hand to rest in his before he began repeating the same ministrations he gave to the first. The closer proximity made the scent of you in his nose even stronger. Your musk was a bit of everything: comforting, arousing, warm, familiar. If he could have it as a cologne, he would. ‘Fuck, is something wrong with me?’ Miguel thought to himself as he leaned towards you, his nose inching closer to the pulse in your neck.

He couldn’t help himself, gently laying your hand back in its original position before dipping down, pressing his nose against the delicate skin of your neck. ‘Something’s wrong with me.’ He inhaled deeply, having to suppress a moan in his throat at the smell of you. He planted his hands next to your hips. Oh my god, speaking of which, your hips just seemed to move so fluidly with you when you walked. It wasn’t like you were just blatantly swaying them, but Miguel noticed the way they seemed to rise and lower in sync with your bulky thighs as you moved around his office.

‘You’re tempting me on purpose, you have to be.’ Miguel thought to himself as he indulged further, letting the tip of his cold nose press against the side of your throat as he breathed you in. ‘I’ve never acted like this about anyone in my life before. Why’re you so easy to obsess over?’ Miguel found himself watching the medical wing’s security cameras in his time, watching as you walked in the hall with Jess, using the wall as a slight support. You looked like a leviathan in the hallway, your tall, broad stature taking up a large portion of the hall and dwarfing Jessica. You had no idea how arousing just the sight of you was.

Miguel’s thoughts were cut off by the feeling of your firm, calloused hands wrapping around his waist, spreading your warmth to those areas. Miguel nearly choked on his breath, absolutely refusing to meet your gaze right now. He couldn’t look you in the eyes. God no. You just caught him in the fucking act.

Miguel kept his head tucked under your chin, a warm feeling coiling in his gut at the realization that your hands wrapped nearly entirely around his waist. How the hell was that even possible? The man was 6’9 yet you managed to make him feel small. How were you even possible? Oh my god, he couldn’t even imagine the view you’d get if you were to wrap those hands around his waist, keeping him in place as you pounded into hi—

“Miguel.”

You felt your hand twitch at the feeling of something cold brushing against your neck. A nurse? Or maybe just a nip of the cold breeze that carried throughout the wing? Nope. ‘Y/n.’ You weren’t thinking that. Why would you repeat your own name? Oh right, you aren’t alone in your body. ‘Venom?’ There was a moment of silence in your conscious. ‘That… man is here again. The human. The weird one.’ ‘Miguel?’ A beat of silence yet again. Venom didn’t like saying the man’s name, preferring to lightheartedly insult him when describing him. You’d always brushed off Venom’s insistence that Miguel had a thing for you. ‘He’s touching you. Again.’ It’s voice was a hiss. ‘What?’

You woke up before you could get a response, your eyes quickly adjusting to the dark room, Miguel’s sturdy figure illuminated by the moonlight peeking into the room. You could feel him twitch and his breath catch when you wrapped your hands around his noticeably narrow waist. Why you chose his waist, you didn’t know, the motion being almost instinctual. You could tell he didn’t want to look at you. How could he, when you just caught him practically burying his face into your neck? You had to break the silence, as much as you hated speaking.

“Miguel.”

Silence in response to your husky voice. You slid your hands up his waist, gripping the sides of his chest before pulling him away, taking note of how your thumbs pressed into the plump edges of his pecs. Miguel’s eyes were trained on your neck as his hands rested against the large muscle of your shoulders. His face was red. So red. This wasn’t Miguel. This didn’t look like the man who so easily scolded others and had a resting bitch face for hours on end. Or at least it didn’t look like it.

“Miguel.”

Your voice was a lot firmer this time, catching Miguel’s full attention as he slowly looked up at you, an innocent look in his eyes. Who was this? Surely this wasn’t the leader of the Spider Society in your hospital room. Who was this little minx that slinked into your room while you were unconscious? “Explain yourself.” You wanted to say more, but the soreness of your throat said otherwise. “I-I was cutting your nails.” Miguel’s voice was shaky. You never heard the man like this before. “And?” You asked inquisitively. He was silent, his eyes darting between each of your sharper ones. “And I was… checking your pulse…?” Miguel’s voice was nearly silent now, an obvious hesitation in his voice.

“You’re a wonderful liar, boss.” You stared him down, your piercing gaze practically demanding an answer. “I was smelling you.” He whispered it so quietly, you almost didn’t pick it up with your still recovering eardrum. “Why?” “Because… because I missed you.” Miguel’s voice was a murmur. Missed you? Why the hell did he miss you? “You wouldn’t miss me if you had been paying attention.” You had to address the elephant in the room.

“Y/n—” “No. Explain to me. Because I called out to you thrice and I got zero response.” Not now, not yet. Miguel wanted this conversation to wait till you were fully recovered. His eyes darted to the door he came in through, but you quickly caught on, sliding your hands down to his waist again and tightening your grip. Oh fuck, Miguel had to suppress a whimper at the feeling. “I-I was busy with Lyla and—” “It’s an earpiece. You would’ve heard me. Meaning you either removed it or muted it. Explain why.” “Y/n, please, you should really just—” “What were you doing that was so important?”

Miguel’s mind was reeling. A part of him wanted to run from this conversation but the other was loving the sound of your voice and the feel of your firm grip on his waist. “Y-You should just go back to be—” “Shut up.” Gods, you had an authority in your voice that silenced him immediately. The feeling of your firm finger wrapped around his waist had him tensing his arms, pleading with his body to send the rushing heat elsewhere.

“Miguel. I will tell Lyla to pull up the cameras in your office myself. Or I’ll send Venom to.”

There was no running from this. No way in hell. “I-I was touching myself.” There. It was out now. He said it. Were you happy? Who knows, cause Miguel screwed his eyes shut the moment he said it. “Touching yourself…” Your voice was lower, and had a hint of anger and confusion in it. “Yes.” Miguel practically gasped out the word, his face flaming in his embarrassment. He’d rather just tell the man then have him watch it himself on the cameras. “You expect me to believe that? That you were touching yourself? We were talking and then suddenly you went radio si—…Miguel.” Fuck, fuck, fuck. You connected the dots. Miguel wanted to crawl into a hole.

“Explain it. Now.” Miguel was quick in his response. “Y-You were breathing, and every fucking piece of audio was picked up, and-and I felt this heat in me. And then you groaned and I just—I just…” Your grip tightened around his waist again and Miguel couldn’t help it, letting out a soft whimper at your touch. “You couldn’t help yourself.” You murmured. Miguel nodded his head in shame, opening his eyes again, though they remain focused on your neck again.

“Miguel.” His eyes snapped up to yours, an unmistakable heat in your husky voice. “Go lock the door.”

Miguel stood so quickly that the chair next to your bed nearly got knocked over.

So… are we feeling a part two? 😏 or was this ass? Cause I’ll stop rn. Lmao.

#miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #male reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x male reader #x male reader #miguel o'hara x male reader #sub miguel o'hara #dom male reader

443 notes · View notes