#THIS IS MY COMFORT CHARACTER *Shows you the character who had little to none comfort in their lives* | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

clockwayswrites · 6 months ago

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Die Screaming, Live Laughing

Danny/Tim, Cyan, Wind through tree branches/Windchimes @wisteriavines @darkstarsapocalypse (I saw you before you changed that! Twins!)

cw:bar parent fentons, more temporary character death, bones

The faint, mechanical whir under his fingertips as he spins the camera lens comforts Tim. The fiddling is familiar from the years of following Bats and crime across the city. The rooftops of Gotham are an environment that he’s far more familiar with than here. Here is nothing but endless trees and leaves.

Well, somewhere here is also the campgrounds and Bernard, Ives, Steph, and Cass; but that’s far out of sight and almost out of mind. It’s easy, as he listens to the wind rustle through the trees, to feel like nothing exists but the trees and Tim and his camera.

He spins the lens again.

Ostensibly, the four of them are in these woods to find Mothman. Which would be cool! But even Tim, who proposed this whole thing, knows that it’s just an excuse for the four of them to do something away from Gotham. To do something to make actual use of their summer between high school and college.

If Tim went to college, that is.

He’d been accepted, sure, but he… he just didn’t know if he wanted to. It felt like there were more important things to be doing than college. College was sitting in a classroom and listening to someone drone on about a subject that Tim could crash course himself on with the right library access in a month. It also meant new people and new noises and maybe even a new home. None of that sounds great, really. Moving in with Bruce to Wayne Manor had been enough change, thank you very much.

Tim’s foot catches on something and he does a half step to keep his balance. He expects to see a tree root when he glances down. It’s bone instead. That’s not… unexpected. They had already seen deer in the woods, the creatures got stupidly close to the campsite. It would make sense that with the big rains the few weeks before, there could have been old remains uncovered. But there’s something…

The dirt brushes away easily from the surface of the bone and, with a little digging, Tim is able to pull it free of the earth.

This isn’t a deer bone.

Tim knows this shape.

This is human. A femur.

“You have to be careful where you’re walking out here.”

Tim stands and spins, the femur held like his staff would be.

The speaker is leaning against a tree several feet away. The golden, setting sun backlights them, making them look almost angelic with how they’re wreathed in light. They’re hard to look at.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Tim says, plastering on a nervous smile that was only half for show. How did they sneak up on him? That should have been impossible with the leaves and branches scattered across the forest floor. “Do you run into animal skeletons a lot out here?”

“Not really,” they say with a shrug before they start forward towards Tim. Their steps are silent. “I don’t really get around. And also, that’s not an animal skeleton.”

“No?” Tim’s grip on the femur tightens. “How do you know that?”

“How? Well, that’s because it’s mine!”

Tim swings.

The femur goes right through the stranger.

“Sorry! Little intense, I get it!” They back up a step and raise their arms. The dappled sunlight shines right through their hand. Shines right through them like the stranger is just made out of gossamer. “I get it, but be careful with that, please? It’s my arm! Or leg? No, leg.”

“Leg, it’s a femur,” Tim says, his mouth running without him as his brain works.

“Leg. Ancients, I miss having legs. And arms… and, well, anything solid really,” the stranger sighs. “I am sorry for scaring you. Just… it’s hard not to get a little intense when someone is holding one of my bones, you know?”

“Oh shit! That’s right, sorry,” Tim stammers as he hurries to put the femur back down on the disturbed earth. “Do you— I mean, should I rebury it? Did the rains washing away the earth, um, wake you up?”

“Kinda?” They tilt their head as they crouch down next to Tim.

It’s clear now, as they move a bit out of the light, how transparent they are. It’s like in the shadow they lose tangency. Their hair is still just as blinding, being bright white in a way that’s really beautiful. They reach out to touch the femur but stop short.

“I’m tied to my bones. It’s why they dumped them all the way out here. After they killed me, I mean, all the way killed me, I haunted the fuck out of them. And yeah, sure, they could hurt this form of me too, but I always found a way out and then it all started again. Burying my bones was the only way to get rid of me, and those fuckers didn’t even scratch me a headstone in the tree or anything. Some parents, huh?”

“Holy— yeah,” Tim says. Looking back down at the other partially exposed bones he has to swallow back a wave of sadness. “Is that a yes to covering them up?”

“Actually… I’d like you to dig them up. I’m not stupid enough to think I’ll get justice or whatever, but I’d… I’d like to be somewhere proper and under my name.”

“What is it? Your name?”

“Danny.”

“Okay, Danny,” Tim gives a little nod and starts digging. “My friends and I will get you somewhere you feel safe. I’m Tim, by the way.”

“Thank you, Tim.”

Danny doesn’t help dig. He can’t, he explains as Tim and him talk. While his bones are buried, he’s not able to interact with them or else he would have gotten them out of there a long time ago. They learn together that as soon as the bones are free and set gently aside that Danny can touch them.

Tim never thought he’d see someone so emotional over a tibia, but Tim can’t blame the guy. Tim figures he’d be emotional over his own bones too.

The big bones are the easiest. The ribs Tim is extra careful with. The fingers are weirdly like peanut shells in his hand. (He’s not going to eat pb&j for weeks now.) Danny chats the whole time, asking Tim about the world. Tim feels wholly inadequate to catch someone up like that, but when conversation turns to technology Tim settles into a rhythm.

It also lets them figure out that while Danny died just shy of nineteen, he’s apparently spent almost two decades in the ground. He still looks just shy of nineteen. He looks like he should be in the forest for the same reason that Tim is, celebrating the end of one era and the start of the next. Danny should be looking to the future, not mourning it.

It makes Tim pause when he finally unearths Danny’s skull. What would it have been like to see Danny smile? To hear him laugh without that faint echoing quality that he has as a ghost? To touch him?

“I’m sorry,” Tim says and holds out the skull. Danny’s skull.

“Thank you,” Danny whispers. His hands tremble as he reaches out towards the skull. He crumples forward before he can touch it, a sob tearing through him.

“I’ll make sure you’re somewhere nice.

“Thank you.” Danny lets out a breath he doesn’t have and sags forward the last inch. His forehead bumps against the skull.

Then he keeps going forward.

The world explodes into light.

“Tim?!”

“Are you sure he’s still alive?”

“You can see him breathing, Bernard.”

“Pulse.”

“Tim!”

Tim gasps awake and blinks rapidly to clear his vision. His friends and sister stand clustered above him. It has gotten dark and their flashlights are blinding.

“You okay?” Cass asks.

“Ow.”

“Yeah, he’s okay,” Steph sighs. “Hey Tim, who the fuck is that?”

“Wha—” Fuck his head hurts. Who the fuck is who?

Oh, the person laying in his arms. The person who’s solid and warm and alive.

Tim starts laughing.

“Okay, maybe a little not okay,” Steph amends.

“Is he ever?” Tim hears Ives mutter.

“Guys,” Tim interrupts them discussing his status once he can breathe again. “This? This is Danny.”

“Being alive again hurts,” Danny mumbles against Tim’s neck and Tim can’t help it, he just starts laughing again.

Being alive does hurt, but fuck if that isn’t wonderful sometimes.

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AN: So this one got away from me a little but, uh... tada? I was planing to have it all explained more, but once Danny didn't purposefully do it, that didn't fit. Basically all if his frankly absurd powers and as a ghost got jump started by his skull and Tim's lifeforce and tada? 100% pulled some from Tim's Gotham Knights character where he's an awkward little bean who is so not neurotpyical. Him and Bernard taking a vacation to hunt Mothman is from that too.

Anyways, stay delightful, darlings!

#dp x dc #brain dead ship #dead tired ship #danny/tim #prompalomp

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dorabellingham · 1 month ago

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El classico

warning: none

characters: jude x reader

summary: when after a bad game, he seeks comfort in you

may contain spelling and translation errors!

The night after El Clásico seemed to have been tinged with a weight too heavy to bear. The Santiago Bernabéu, which had previously been vibrating with the expectation of a victory, was now silent under the crushing defeat of 4-0. Jude could barely lift his face; the score was like a punch that had hit him straight in the heart, a mixture of humiliation and helplessness that he had not expected to feel so intensely.

The stadium corridors were quiet, the haggard faces of the players mingled with those of the few remaining staff. Jude walked with heavy steps, ignoring the greetings of his colleagues and the murmur of the journalists who tried to capture some reaction. He just wanted to get out of there, to escape the shadow of that defeat.

As soon as he reached the parking lot, he took out his cell phone and, without thinking much, called you. Your voice was the first thing he thought of; he didn't want to talk to anyone other than his girlfriend. Deep down, he knew that you were the only person who could understand without judging, without demanding anything.

—Hey, Jude!

You answered with that welcoming tone that made him breathe a little slower, even in the most tense situations.

Jude let out a heavy sigh before saying something, feeling tiredness mix with frustration.

—Babe... it was a disaster. A complete disaster.

His voice sounded tired, almost exhausted, and there was a vulnerability there that he rarely let show.

You, on the other end of the line, could feel every emotion through his tone, as if you were right there by his side.

—I saw it, babe. —You answered softly, trying not to let him feel like he was being judged. —Do you want to come over to my house? We can talk, or just... be quiet, if you prefer.

He nodded, even though you couldn’t see it.

—I need you now, Y/n... I don’t want to talk to anyone. Just you.

In less than half an hour, Bellingham arrived home. As soon as you opened the door, he walked in slowly, his shoulders still slumped, his eyes downcast, and his face marked by tension. You approached and wrapped him in a hug, a gesture that he returned with a grip so firm that it almost seemed desperate.

—I can’t believe what happened. —He murmured, hiding his face in your shoulder. —So many people were counting on me, you know? It’s not just a game, darling... it’s not just a defeat. It’s... it’s like I failed everyone, the club, the fans. They trusted me.

You stroked his back, feeling how shaken he was. Jude was always strong, a leader on and off the field, but moments like these showed his more human side.

—Honey, you’re an incredible player. One defeat doesn’t change that. Everyone who understands football knows that the sport is like that, sometimes, even the best player has bad days. But you’re an essential part of the team, and they know it.

He shook his head, still not convinced.

—I know it sounds easy to say this, but... I don’t feel that way. Today was humiliating. The pressure from the fans, the disapproving looks... it’s too much.

You held his face between your hands, looking him in the eyes tenderly.

—Jude, you’ve overcome so much. Remember when you were just a little boy who dreamed of playing professional soccer? Look how far you’ve come. And you know how capable you are. This game was just a stumbling block, but you’re much stronger than that.

For a moment, he remained silent, absorbing your words. Then he closed his eyes and nodded slowly. You were his anchor, and just having you there made him feel a lightness he couldn’t find in anyone else.

You smiled at him, pulling him to the couch.

—Sit down. I’ll get us some tea, and you can tell me what else is on your mind, if you want.

As you went to the kitchen, Jude threw himself on the couch, letting his body sink into the cushions. Anger still burned inside him, but the warmth of the house and your affection helped ease the weight.

You came back with a steaming mug of chamomile tea in your hands and sat down next to him, offering the mug. He held your hand before taking the tea, as if he needed that contact to steady himself. After a sip, he sighed deeply and began to talk, telling you every detail that bothered him –the plays that didn't work out, the pressure from the fans, the feeling of helplessness.

—I know it's weird to say this... —He confessed. —But even after everything, I feel like I owe them something. I don't know how I'm going to go back there and face all of this again.

You squeezed his hand and shook your head.

—It's not weird, Jude. It shows how much you care, how much you respect what you do. That feeling is what makes you a special player.

He smiled sideways, a slight smile, still without much conviction, but a little more hopeful.

—I’m lucky to have you, Y/n. Seriously. You have no idea how much this means.

You rested your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes, feeling grateful for being there for him.

—And I’m lucky to have you. Now, you’re going to rest, recharge your batteries, and tomorrow is a new day. You’re going back to the field, babe. Stronger than ever.

Jude looked at you, with deep gratitude in his eyes. He knew there would still be challenges, but with you by his side, he was sure he would be able to face anything.

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whathorselegs · 3 months ago

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I think one of my favourite character journeys in BSD has to be Kunikida learning to be better with kids because you'd expect it to be a fun wholesome character arc. Only, it ends up being heart breaking as it's immediately turned against Kunikida.

Despite the 'Dad status' that the fandom has given Kunikida, he was actually terrible with kids towards the start of the manga.

Take how he treated Atsushi in the first chapter. (Yes, Atsushi is not a little kid, but he was a starving and vulnerable orphan when they met.) When Kunikida and Dazai mention the 'man-eating tiger' Atsushi immediately freaks out and tries to run away.

What does Kunikida do? He grabs Atsushi, slams him to the floor and then threatens to break his arm for information.

It's Dazai of all people who has to reign Kunikida in reminding him "The boss himself warned you that the gathering of intelligence needn't be an interrogation". Dazai was the sweet talker and Kunikida was threat, even to a terrified, starving orphan.

Later with Kyouka, he's not much better. He attempts to intimidate her into giving the agency information. Whilst Atsushi now fulfils the role of the gentle approach. She's a mafia assassin after all, even if he knows she had no choice in it, Kunikida treats her as a threat before he treats her as a child.

Even with Aya, the interaction that gave Kunikida his 'dad status', he started off badly. But, it is here we start to see Kunikida trying to be better, trying to take a softer approach, even if he's clumsy with it.

When he realizes Aya was just handed a bomb, he snatches it from her and gets rid of it. That can't be helped it was a literal ticking time bomb, he then phones the authorities to deal with it. He was planning to leave, it's only because he caught sight of Aya sitting alone did he approach her. It wasn't his first instinct.

If he hadn't seen her in that moment, he might not have gone looking for her at all.

He asks her if she's alright and then she shocks him by wanting to hunt down the culprit. He rightfully tries to dissuade her, but again, he's not good with kids, he's blunt and argumentative with her.

Obviously, that's not going to convince a kid with a hero complex to not chase the bad guy.

However, his turning point, in my opinion, is when he realizes he has to choose between Aya and the people on the train. Now, he had already set off the stun grenade and is putting all his faith in Yosano finding them. He trusts her so he knows they are most likely going to be okay.

But Aya doesn't know that and he can't explain it all in the time they have. He sees a child who thinks she's about to die and is trying to be brave about it. And Kunikida comforts her. He needs her to know that she's not alone, that she's not going to suffer, that he is with her and he hugs her.

There was no need for him to step into that explosion with Aya except to comfort her. He chose to do that. Above his own life, he chose her needs.

And that's where this journey starts to get heartbreaking, because Kunikida hadn't always been like this. He was obviously always going to try and protect children, his ideals state as much, but he also didn't believe himself to be a hero. He doesn't see himself as someone capable or even worthy of that role.

So he built up a barrier around himself that made him harsher and more callous. He called it a professional detachment. He had to, it was to protect himself, to keep his sanity in those moment when they couldn't save everyone. Now it's breaking down and he's showing more and more how much he cares.

And it's immediately used against him.

The very scenario that got him to open up is placed in front of him again. A child with a bomb around their throat. Only this time Yosano isn't there, and this time Fyodor is orchestrating it.

And Kunikida does everything right. He tells Atsushi to leave and carry on the mission so he can stay and help the child. He gets on the child's level, makes himself small and none threatening. He reassures the child in gentle voice that everything will be okay.

And then, it's the line "How about a magic trick?" that really gets me, because he's trying so hard to present himself as someone trustworthy. And a magic trick is exactly what he pulled off with Aya, but it's what goes wrong here.

Because Fyodor planned it this time. He didn't just target children to get at Kunikida, he made a twisted mockery of what happened to Aya. Except she doesn't live this time and Kunikida can't bring this child any comfort or safety because Kunikida is the threat. This child dies alone and afraid because Kunikida was there, just like Fyodor planned.

Fyodor saw Kunikida bare his heart once and immediately reached in his chest and crushed it.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd kunikida #rambling #long post #And then there's what happened in Dazai's entrance exam #which probably explains why he's ended up so closed off from kids #because he couldn't save the one he took in the first time #and didn't want to go through it again #but this post already ended up long enough #so I'm calling it here

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7ndipity · 2 months ago

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BTS As Girl Dads

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: Headcanons about how the members would each handle being girl dads

Warnings: none

A/N: Thanks to @coffeedepressionsoup for this request! This got me soo in my feels, they’d all be such great dads(I may have gone a lil self indulgent but who cares lol). Obviously, some/most of these could also apply to any kid, regardless of gender, but for the sake of the Hc, we’re focusing on daughters

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Jin:

He’s honestly such a girl dad, argue with the wall

I totally see him wholly embracing the title and all the things that are typically considered ‘girly’, like pink and sparkles and all that

He would indulge every single one of her interests. She likes animals? They’re going to the zoo every weekend. She likes music? He’s signing her up for lessons for whatever instrument she’s into

I have this mental picture of them sitting on her bed together while he’s reading her bedtime stories, using all these silly voices and wearing one of her princess hats or something bc she insisted he needed for the character and just-😭

Yoongi:

Yoongi would be the softest girl dad ever, like she had him wrapped around her finger from day one. He took one look at her tiny little scrunched up face, that reminded him waay too much of his own expression when he’s annoyed, and he was a goner

I see him just sitting soo patiently while she gives him makeovers, wearing like three different pairs of clip-on earrings at the same time

He would really focus on teaching her to stand up for herself and makes sure she never takes any shit from anyone

He might come off a little stern sometimes, but it’s just because he worries and wants the best for her

Hobi:

Okay, Hobi as a girl dad might be one of my favorite headcanons, bc he’d be soo fucking sweet with them!

The tea party King. Like he shows up dressed in the most ridiculous outfits to make her giggle, and ready to talk imaginary gossip with her and any plushies that are joining them🤭

He would love shopping with/for her, constantly trying to find the coolest outfits or pieces for her, and they would definitely wear matching outfits when she was little(she would be the best dressed toddler ever, lol)

I also see him being quite protective of her at times, being super nervous/worried about her doing things like riding a bike for the first time or on her first days of school

Namjoon:

Omg Namjoon as a girl dad would be soo fucking protective. Like if someone does anything to hurt or upset her, they’re fucked

I see him loving daddy-daughter days out together, taking her to the park or museums or bookstores, really just wanting to indulge her curiosity and interests

Like Yoongi, he would really work to make sure she knows how to stand up for herself, as well as others

For all of his sternness tho, he would have the biggest soft spot for her, he’s 100% the type to let her have dessert before dinner or something bc she gave him puppy eyes

Jimin:

Omg he’s soo girl dad coded, like it’s not even funny(he literally confirmed that on that ep of “are you sure?” like 🥺)

He would treat her like a little princess, doting on her at every possible opportunity, buying her toys/clothes/treats, taking her on special outings, etc. If she wants something, he will do whatever he can do give it to her

He would not be able to stand seeing her in any sort of pain. Like even her just having a scraped knee would make him slightly misty-eyed, even tho she’s not upset/crying about it

I see them having lots of long talks about whatever’s on her mind. He would really strive to be her safe place to ask questions about anything, from school and friends to life and the future

Taehyung:

I see him being an amazing girl dad! He has this amazing, comforting dynamic with the girls that he’s worked with/is friends with, so I can only imagine how supportive he would be with his own daughter

He would be so indulgent in whatever she wanted. Ice cream before bed? Heck yeah, let him grab a spoon too. She wants a new plushie/toy even tho she just got one like yesterday? Well, the new one needs a friend, soo-

But he would still have his more stern/protective moments with her, just moreso in little ways like making sure she’s always wearing her helmet and elbow/knee pads, brushes her teeth, does her homework, etc

He would play along with all/any of their imaginary games, fully committing to the role(and adding waay too many silly death/fainting scenes bc they make her laugh)

Jungkook:

Junkook would absolutely adore a daughter. Like she would be his little princess and anyone/anything that upsets her will have to answer to him.

On the flip side of that protectiveness tho, he is so unbelievably gentle with her. As an infant, he handled her like she was made of glass, and as she grows up, he would always speak to her in a softer tone than he uses for anyone else

(Also dodon’t think about him singing her to sleep every night as an infant. Getting up with her in the middle of the night and walking her around the house, singing to her softly till she drifts back off to sleep in his arms)

He would love teaching her things and playing games with her(I totally picture him teaching her boxing in tiny and falling over all dramatic when she lands a hit, lol)

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @classicalelephant @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @universal-travel-er @bo0ghol @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

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kitscutie · 1 year ago

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snow and roses: part II (coriolanus snow x fem!reader)

pairing: coriolanus snow x reader

warnings: none except the nature of the Hunger Games franchise! later on in the series there will be hints to dark!coriolanus snow and lots of angst so be prepared!

summary: you and coriolanus have been dating in secret for months, all it takes is one songbird for everything to come into the light.

a/n: part two is here! hope you enjoy, remember requests are open and there are more parts to come :) p.s - all of the love on part one means the world!

word count: 2.3k

find part one here!

join my taglist here!

Over the past eighteen years you couldn't picture a single day you and Coriolanus hadn't spent together. Birthdays, school days, even throughout the war, you spent time together.

Today was different. He hadn't met you this morning and you couldn't help but miss his presence. His character enveloped a room, always making it clear he was there without really having to say a word. You found it comforting, others found it threatening.

The Tributes arrived early this morning and it was something you had dreaded, very soon you would actually have to meet Wovey. Mentor her, care for her, and it riddled you with guilt knowing that it was all a challenge. Her life was a challenge to you.

Coryo's presence could've softened that burden and yet, he wasn't here. No warning no explanation he just didn't show.

"Where's Snow?" Asked Arachne as you all stood outside your classroom at the Academy, preparing for yet another lecture from Casca.

"I wouldn't know." You shrugged, secretly seething at your boyfriends disregard to tell you where he was going before he disappeared.

"Oh please. You two are practically attached at the hip." Scoffed Festus. Fixing his hair in a small compact mirror which he carried around in his bag.

"I heard he's with his songbird." Mock sang Felix. Knowing it would most likely piss you off to the high heavens.

"And where did you hear that, Felix?" You asked, tilting your head in questions, eyebrows furrowed. While Felix was a tease he was not a liar.

"Lucky's newest interview. He was in the zoo with the tributes, I mean it was almost comedic. But, I've got to say the most interesting part was when they held hands." He said. You couldn't hide the anger on your face no matter how hard you tried and it was only made worse when you spotted Sejanus' sympathetic glance from over his shoulder.

"Well, he is very motivated to win the Prize I suppose." You murmured, now embarrassed, even if they weren't aware he was your boyfriend he was supposed to be your closest ally and here he was prancing around with his new decoration.

Much to your pleasure the large wooden door swung open, everybody filing into the room and taking their assigned seats, the one next to yours empty.

His seat.

Finally, minutes later he entered looking rather sheepish. If he was ashamed you were glad, he should be.

"Your little excursion is in violation of about five Academy rules Mr Snow." Spoke Casca. Deep down you were pleased that he had broken rules, pleading in your mind that this would prevent any further ventures. "Amongst them, endangering a Capitol student."

"Who?" He asked, stopping in his tracks as though he was insulted by the accusation.

"You. I'm moving for the Game makers to disqualify you as a mentor immediately." Casca answered. Guiltily you were happy, you just hoped your face didn't show it as Coriolanus sat down next to you.

"You said that we had to get our tributes to perform, not that we had to stay away." He said leaning against the banister of your seats.

"I don't believe holding their hands was in that agreement." You snarled from behind him and you immediately regretted it as he turned to you, hurt that you weren't defending him.

"Right you are Miss L/N." Casca replied.

"Holding her hand, introducing her to people. You make it look as if were one in the same as those animas." Arachne added. You didn't agree with that, they were very much the same as us but his effort to care for her wounded you internally.

"Coriolanus didn't show those people anything they didn't already know. That the tributes are human beings. Just like us. That's why nobody wants to watch the Games, because people know deep down, that winning a war ten years ago doesn't justify starving peoples children." Sejanus added, yet you couldn't help but feel like Coriolanus didn't truly agree, he just wanted to be let loose for his wrong doings.

"Snow fell. Down in the cage, it fell down in the cage but it landed-" Doctor Gaul appeared, frightening you and many others. She had an atmosphere similar to Coriolanus, threatening and brazen. Maybe that should've scared you more than any District Twelve girl, yet it didn't.

"On stage." Snow finished her riddle without hesitation.

"You're good at games. Maybe one day you'll be a Game maker like me." She grinned evilly. You didn't miss Coriolanus' smile when hearing this and something deep within you stirred.

"Only if the games continue at all." Casca replied.

"Oh they'll continue, with performances like young Mr Snow in that zoo. In fact I came to ask your star Mentor a question. What are the Hunger Games for?" She said confidently.

"They're to punish the Districts for their uprising. To commemorate the end of the war." Coriolanus answered thou hit felt scripted and to some extent it was. That very answer was drilled into your heads from the moment you entered the Academy.

Sejanus began to discredit the Games, calling them what they are. Cruel. Doctor Gaul didn't like that.

"Perhaps the Capitol students are ill suited to be mentoring tributes, perhaps the Games time has passed." Casca said and something about it told you he was on Sejanus' side, that he didn't agree with the very games he created.

"Dean Highbottom is wrong. My classmates too. Maybe Sejanus is onto something, maybe we should be viewing those tributes as human beings." Coriolanus spoke and you tugged at his shirt for him to sit down, to stop defending this inhumane act but he slapped your hand away. "I mean you saw those kids in the zoo, they just wanted to get to know Lucy Gray. If we need people to watch we should be letting them get closer to the tributes before the games. Make the stakes personal." You felt embarrassed by his every word. Embarrassed by his obsession with Lucy Gray and embarrassed that he believed in these games.

"Who will watch the games if they care what happens to the tributes?" Asked Doctor Gaul and even to you, the answer was obvious. Everyone.

"Everyone." Answered Snow, predictable. "If they thought the tribute they cared about had a chance of winning, people need someone to root for and against. We need them to invest. If we bend a few Capitol laws, we could even have them place bets." He continued his proposal.

"You forget you're talking about real people Coriolanus, not just characters in your wider game." You said, eyes cold as he once again turned to you seeming betrayed, you no longer cared.

"Look I know Lucy Gray may not win in the arena but if you give her a chance, I would bet the Plinth Prize that she can win peoples attention." He ignored you, instead once again talking about Lucy. You felt sick by his obsession, betrayed. How long had you been the one to care for him, to root for him and here he was digging a dagger in your heart.

"I would like you to write up a proposal of these thoughts tonight Mr Snow." Doctor Gaul stated. "Perhaps your classmate can help you?" She smirked towards you in question.

You shook your head while keeping your eyes trained on the front of the room, you refused to be apart of his play for Lucy Gray's victory.

You sat alone at lunch, thinking. What was going on between him and that girl and why was he suddenly the Games biggest supporter. You understood the Plinth Prize meant a lot to him. That it would open doors but this was a step too far.

"Y/N, a pleasure." A voice you knew all too well said as it took the seat across from you.

"Coriolanus." You answered bluntly before taking another bite of your sandwich. He could tell something was off from the moment you used his full name, usually calling him Coryo.

"What was that little show back there, hm?" He asked, blue eyes a weapon as he glared at you. Something you had never been on the receiving end of before.

"I could ask you the same thing." You replied, putting your food down to glare back.

"It's a competition, Y/N. One which could change my life, I know you don't have to worry about winning but this means everything to me. You know that. I know the games are animalistic but they'll go on either way-." He defended though you cut him off.

"That's what you think I'm upset about?" You said, exaggerating the 'that's'.

"It's not?" He asked, now curious.

"I don't know, Coriolanus maybe I'm upset about you being obsessed with Lucy Gray. I mean, she's all you've spoken about since the Reaping, you held her hand! Risked your life for her!" You exclaimed in angry, drawing attention to your table.

"Oh what, so your jealous?" He smirked, clearly amused by your outrage.

"Jealous does little to describe what I am feeling, Snow. This is another level. When will you realise that that girl is using you, just as you are using her. Nothing more nothing less. I however am still here, I have been there for years, for you!" You shouted once more and he grew agitated as the room stared, grabbing your wrist with unnecessary aggression to pull your face down to this.

"Don't make a scene Y/N. You're acting like a little girl." He gritted out through his teeth.

"Fuck you, Coriolanus Snow." You replied equally quiet and with menace laced in your words. You saw his face change, as if the anger once there was replaced by a mask of sympathy. It felt ingenuine.

"Come on, Y/N. You know I love you right? I have for how long now, years." He said with kind eyes.

"Don't kid yourself." You scoffed. Though his face stayed the same his grip on your wrist tightened, leaving pink indentations.

"I love you, Y/N. Okay? Not Lucy Gray. She's my tribute just like you said, nothing more nothing less." He once again reassured, never giving up his hold.

Finally the fire in your heart gave out to him and his stupid Snow charm. It never failed to make you swoon and hearing those three words, ones you gave to each other not very often, you just wished to be in his arms.

"Okay." You retreated.

"Okay and?" He asked.

"I love you too." You answered, relieved when he let your wrist go, you were quick to move it below the table, scared to see what he had done to your wrist.

"Good. Now come on, I'm going to give some food to Lucy Gray, strengthen her, I assume you would like to meet Wovey." He said, getting up from his chair. You didn't want to meet Wovey, not really, scared to look her in the eyes. You did however want to meet his pretty little Songbird.

You walked together, hand in hand towards the zoo. He was back to his caring self after the flash of rage you previously saw. It wasn't the first time that side of him had flashed and you knew it wouldn't be the last but moments like these made it all worth it.

Your relationship was secret, but you felt no need to hide it anymore, now determined to show he was yours. Show everyone.

At first you stuck by his side, even when he spoke to Lucy Gray and you felt yourself flinch as she rushed over.

"That for us?" She asked as he held food out to her. Watching as she gave some to her fellow District Twelve Tribute, Jessup. "And who might this be?" She asked, eyeing up your joint hands.

"Wovey's mentor." He answered, without a second thought. Though when you squeezed his hand, his answer changed. "My girlfriend, I mean. Y/N L/N."

"Well Miss L/N, you sure do have the cream of the crop here with Mr Snow. He's a lovely young man." She smiled at you, you couldn't tell if it was your own paranoia telling you it was ingenuine or if she really didn't feel happy for you.

"Oh, and don't I know it." You smiled back. "You've equally had such luck I must say. He's a fine mentor." You added, patting his chest as you boosted his ego.

"Well, thank you." He said, kissing your forehead. "But uh, could you give me and Lucy Gray a moment, Mentor to Tribute?" He asked and that once burnt out flame of jealousy flickered within you as you left to speak to Wovey. You watched as they now leant against the fence to talk, lips inches away, crouched together.

Wovey was a sweet young girl, grateful as you gave her food and she shared it with Bobbin who she had been sat with, you didn't mind her sharing seeing as some Mentors has made little effort to offer any help.

You patted her shoulder through the fence, promising your support to help her reach the end of the games though it seemed she didn't care about winning and you admired her bravery.

A scream cut said conversation short as you looked to see Arachne's neck being stabbed with a smashed glass bottle. Play stupid games win stupid prizes.

You and Coriolanus both rushed over. Even if she was mean and bitchy she was your friend for the last five years and you had grown fond of the girl.

You whispered reassurances as she cried, placing pressure on her neck until you were literally dragged off of her by Peacekeepers, watching as her final breath left her body.

"No, no, no." You whispered with glassy eyes as her body became smaller and smaller on the ground - until it was too far into the distance to see.

It was clear the games had officially begun, and the tributes were winning.

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#coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coryo snow #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger game fic #ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader

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asidian · 6 months ago

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One thing I haven't seen talked about is Crystal's character arc, and specifically the way the timing of it interacts with Charles' arc. They stumble over each other in the worst possible way en route to their respective character growth, and from a narrative perspective, it's absolutely genius.

I'm going to preface all this by saying: none of this is a criticism of Crystal. Part of what makes her such a dynamic, refreshing character is that you don't get to see women in fiction written the way she's been written. You don't get to see women with her flaws that aren't throw-away mean girls or villains. You especially don't get to see women with her traits who learn and grow and become better people. So yeah, I'm going to talk about Crystal's character flaws. No, this isn't Crystal hate. We love our girl in this house. Okay? Okay. Let's start.

Crystal's character arc, at its heart, is all about her learning to be a better person because she has good influences that love and support her for the first time.

When the show starts, Crystal is not a nice person. She's abrasive in a way that's specifically designed to push people away. She's used to getting her own way, and it shows. She's used to having no meaningful connections with anyone, and it shows. She's breathtakingly selfish, in the very literal sense of the definition. She is focused on her self. Her problems are front and center to her; everything is about what she needs, and what she wants, and how she's struggling.

Jenny calls her out very early on. In episode one, Crystal is complaining about the boys, and Jenny, for all her cynicism, strikes right at the heart of the problem. She tells Crystal, "Everybody is always thinking about themselves, all the time." People only care about their own problems. And she says, correctly, that that's what Crystal is doing, too.

This moment is a revelation for Crystal. For the first time, she considers what her behavior looks like from another person's perspective. As she says, she gets mad at herself over it, and that awareness allows her to do something selfless for the first time in the series. She takes a step back and insists that instead of focusing on her problems, they go to help a little girl. It's a big moment for her.

But importantly, she's not done growing as a character here. She's only just getting started.

On my first watch through, I didn't realize how often, over the next few episodes, Crystal redirects things to her problems during conversation, but it's quite a lot. She's still focused on herself – selfish, in that most literal definition of the word. The issues most important to her are her issues. She's starting to learn to think about other people, but she's not there yet. The process is still underway.

Which brings us to Charles.

Charles' arc is a different sort of self-reflection. He's terrified that he's a bad person the way his father was and the way the boys that killed him were.

During the course of the show, he gets systematically stripped of his confidence and made to feel helpless, and just like Crystal needs outside influences to help her reach a more stable place, Charles does, too. He desperately needs reassurance that he isn't everything he's afraid he is.

But my goodness, the timing in their arcs is such a trainwreck when you put them together, and it is brilliant.

Let's start with the Devlin House.

Crystal has some amazing character growth here. She displays genuine concern about Charles, makes an attempt at comforting him, and learns to work with Edwin even though she still doesn't particularly like him at this point.

Charles, meanwhile, is beginning to fall apart. He's just had the worst night of his afterlife. He's been viscerally reminded of how helpless he is. He couldn't stop the Devlins from being killed over and over, just like he couldn't stop his own father's abuse. He messed up his attempted rescue so badly that he was completely out of commission until the case was finished. He managed to help not one single thing. He made no impact at all. He couldn't help those girls any more than he was able to help himself, while he was still alive.

So they get back to the butcher shop, and what do we see? Monty immediately coopts Edwin. Niko doesn't know what's happened because she wasn't there and Charles has been all fake smiles with her. And Crystal goes off with Niko, leaving Charles to flounder on his own in the wake of everything. She's still learning how to support other people. She isn't there yet, and it's extremely on display in this moment.

Then we get the lighthouse episode, and they both get put through the wringer here. Crystal gets her hopes and expectations jerked around by the Night Nurse in the very worst way, and Charles gets hit with a whole pile full of trauma. All that helplessness wells to the forefront again. Combined with being forced to relive some of his worst memories and the desperation to keep Edwin safe from hell, Charles lets himself act on his anger for once.

And what does he get in the aftermath? Horror.

Everyone who cares about him is horrified by what he's done. Edwin goes so far as to call it extreme. They don't know the half of it, of course; they haven't seen what the Night Nurse just put him through. But in this moment Charles is at his absolute lowest, and all he sees is confirmation that he's exactly as terrible as he thinks he is.

That's why Charles shrugs off Edwin's attempt at comfort, here. When he needed to be able to do something to protect Edwin and also himself – when he needed to believe that he could be better than what his father always was – all he sees is the confirmation from the people he cares about most that when push came to shove, he really is a bad guy.

Then comes the aftermath. And this moment is such a brilliant, awful clash of both of their character arcs. It is so delightfully messy.

Because Charles starts to open up to Crystal here. He starts to lay himself bare, the way he ends up doing with Edwin in episode 5. He's on the verge of admitting something that he's been worried about for literal decades. He tells her, "I've been angry for such a long time."

And what does Crystal do? She's still in the midst of her own character growth. She's still struggling to support other people. She's still learning how to. In a lot of ways, though she's made progress already, she's still that selfish girl that Jenny called out in the very first episode.

And she shows it here it with the absolute worst possible timing. No sooner has Charles started to talk about what's bothering him than she cuts in with her own problems. She's tired of riddles and spirits and demons and not knowing who she is. And the look on Charles' face. The moment when he visibly sets aside his own problems, because Crystal doesn't need any more disasters on her plate? It's heartbreaking. You can actually track the subtle change in his expression there. The actor does a phenomenal job.

And then comes the kiss. And what spurs it? Crystal saying she needs something real.

This moment isn't about light-hearted attraction, the way the earlier flirting is. It's Charles setting aside what he needs – comfort and reassurance and a moment to talk through the things that have been tearing him apart – to give her what she says she wants. He can't even feel it. And Crystal isn't far enough along in her character growth here to realize how selfish she's being. Like Jenny said way back in episode one, she's only thinking about herself.

And then comes the absolute unmitigated disaster of episode 5.

Straight out the gate, Charles leans in for a kiss. From his perspective, they have something together; there's affection there. Charles "I think I'd miss kissing" Rowland, who has been starved for meaningful physical contact for thirty years, is not in a hurry to give this up.

But Crystal is fresh out of a nightmare where she conflates Charles with her abusive ex. She withdraws; she calls what they had a distraction. She cuts it off almost as soon as it's started, so focused on her own worries here that she misses how damn fake Charles' smile is, to cover up that he's coming to pieces.

To be clear, she's absolutely not in the wrong here. It is 1000% her prerogative not to jump into a relationship again while she's still struggling to work through what happened with David. But the arc of her narrative is still early enough that she does it all without so much as the awareness that her focus on her own issues has hurt Charles terribly.

And then the episode really kicks off, and both of them are in shambles in very different ways.

Crystal is projecting her issues with David onto Charles. She has a lot of history, and David seems as though he's exactly the right sort of toxic to leave lasting a lasting impact. But Charles hasn't done anything to deserve her assumptions, and he takes the brunt of her temper here and throughout the episode.

Charles is desperately projecting onto the dead jocks. He very badly wants them to be good guys, because he sees himself in them and he needs himself to be a good guy. He snipes back at Crystal for the very first time in this episode, and he does it in the worst way possible, accidentally prodding her where it will do the most damage.

They're both hurting. They both say some truly painful things to one another.

She does not need to hear that she has unsorted hangups about David still plaguing her while she's unable to move past them. He desperately does not need anyone to tell him that he has rage issues while he's still struggling to think of himself as a decent person.

They apologize, in the end. They start to move past it.

But it's telling that Charles doesn't try to open up to Crystal again. He goes to Edwin instead, even though Edwin is the one who called his actions regarding the Night Nurse extreme. He gets the reassurance he needs so badly; he gets the connection he was looking for with Crystal from Edwin, instead. (I have a lot of thoughts on why Charles initially tries to open up to Crystal so quickly, but it is very much an aside, and this is already extremely long, so it will have to wait for another write-up.)

But the important thing here is, Edwin is the one to offer Charles what he needs to overcome the self-doubt eating him alive. Edwin provides the physical affection Charles was seeking in the form of that long-overdue hug. Edwin is the one who's able to reaffirm for him that he's not just a good guy, he's the best person Edwin knows.

And for all intents and purposes, Charles' major character arc ends here.

Charles has a few last little moments to go on the path to rebuilding his own self-image, after this, but for the most part his concerns have been resolved. He saves Crystal in episode 6 and Edwin in episode 7, proving to himself that he's able to make a difference in the face of overwhelming odds. He's not helpless, no matter what the Night Nurse told him; he can be a force for good in the world. By the end of the series, his crisis of self-doubt seems to have been largely overcome.

But it's the conversation with Edwin at the end of episode 5 that really allows him to work through his most pressing issues. Edwin is there to help support him when he stumbles. Edwin provides him the comfort he was looking for while Crystal was too worried about her own problems to notice how badly he needed the help.

Crystal, meanwhile, still has a ways to go after episode 5. The last three episodes are where she does her most important character growth.

In episode 6, she learns some hard lessons about keeping secrets and letting people help and appreciate you even when you can't offer them anything in return. And Charles, importantly, is there for her every step of the way. He consistently offers her physical and emotional support. He models for her, in a very real way, what it looks like to have someone prop you up when you need the help.

And in turn, Crystal steps in to save the boys. She's the big damn hero at the end of this episode.

The breakthrough continues into episode 7. She's so intent on helping to get Edwin out of hell that she literally goes to face her own demons, not for herself for once – not for her own purposes or needs or wants – but because she wants to help someone else.

And episode 8, at long last, brings her to the culmination of her character arc.

Crystal is at her absolute lowest here. Her family, the people who were supposed to love her unconditionally, didn't even realize she was gone. Her precious memories, that she's spent the entire series trying to regain, have showed her that she's not the person she hoped she would be. She's overwhelmed enough that she means to flee, to cut herself off from her new friends entirely.

Then the boys get kidnapped. And just like that, she makes up her mind.

For the first time since the start of the series, she sets aside her most important issues in order to let what other people need take precedence. She disregards all of her own personal concerns and focuses instead on others. She's finally stepped out of those selfish impulses that Jenny calls her out on, all the way back in the first episode. She's finally learned how to support other people when they need it.

Crystal has finally figured out how to be there for others, despite having troubles of her own.

It's a lovely arc, and it's beautifully done.

Charles' is just as touching.

And god damn, but it was a brilliant narrative choice to have their character arcs line up in exactly the wrong way.

#dead boy detectives #dbda #dbda spoilers #charles rowland #crystal palace #edwin payne #meta commentary

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kaelaheartsyou · 4 months ago

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FEVER DREAM

caitlin clark x reader type | 5.1k words, 19k characters

warnings:

literally pure smut idk guys wtf

mentions of connor mccaffery

it honestly felt like a fever dream.

you had made your way into a small bar in downtown indianapolis with your friend jess.

it was an average friday night, you guys always went to the same bar, on the same day, at the same time.

the warm atmosphere of the place was alive the dim lighting of the downtown bar illuminated swathes of wood and metal, r&b music softly playing in the background. the walls were decorated with framed photographs of local athletes, and the chatter of people filled the air, punctuated by laughter and the clinking of glasses. it was a typical friday night, and the place buzzed with energy—especially after a victorious game by the fever.

even if you didnt follow basketball, you knew who the indiana fever were. who caitlin clark was.

it was here that you found yourself, perched on a stool at the bar, sharing a moment with your friend, jess. you both had decided to revel in the post-game buzz that encapsulated the entire venue. there were fans that had came straight from the game, wearing fever gear to celebrate the win.

from across the bustling space, your gaze landed on what you would've never expected to see. the whole team there, gathered around a few couches playing pool.

sitting next to who you knew was her boyfriend connor, was none other than caitlin clark. you scoffed looking at her, she was dressed quite casually. her athletic build was hidden by a crewneck with the words 'indiana fever womens basketball' splayed across it and simple black cargo pants that spoke both of comfort and style.

you sighed before turning back to jess "look." you said motioning your head to the group.

her eyes widened momentarily before speaking "quite brave of them to show up to a bar, where tons of their fans are"

a small chuckle escaped past your lips "do you think they're actually together? or maybe some type of stunt to prevent people from questioning her?" you asked, shifting the conversation to connor and caitlin.

she thought for a moment before a sly grin appeared on her lips "either way people question her. but you should find out"

you found her words almost comical. ALMOST. instead she just sounded downright ridiculous. idiotic even.

you laughed dryly "you're funny you know that?" you said, but you couldnt help turning your head back to caitlin who had what looked like a forced smile on her face as she watched connor talk to another girl, occasionally saying a word or two.

jess followed your gaze before responding "im not joking though. i mean, how fucking cool would it be to say you hooked up with caitlin clark!" she said a little too loudly for comfort

your eyes widened, not just at how loud she was, but at her words themselves. "oh my god you're being serious?!" you whispered shouted.

she smirked at you "oh cmon whats the harm, shes clearly not enjoying herself"

you assumed from videos and pictures you'd seen online that she was quite literally the embodiment of confidence, though looking at her sitting on the couch with her boyfriend, it was hard not to notice how she seemed to lean away from connor, who was engrossed in conversation with some other girl standing nearby. an amused smile crossed your lips, and you turned to jess to share your thoughts. "god, that’s pathetic," you laughed, shaking your head slightly. you both chuckled at the amusing, albeit unfortunate, dynamics of relationships, not realizing that caitlin had momentarily glanced in your direction.

for a split second, the bustle around you fell away. then jess, still giggling, suddenly stopped. she hit your arm lightly, eyes wide, and motioned towards caitlin. you turned back to see her actively staring at you now, her expression hinting at an undeniable intrigue. there was something in they way she looked at you that made your heart race unexpectedly... or maybe you were just delusional.

but when she glanced away briefly and suddenly stood up, you definitely felt your heart rate pick up a little. you watched as she skillfully navigated through the crowd and towards the bar where you and jess were sitting. you turned your attention back to jess, a small part of you hoping she would come up to you. but unsurprisingly and to your luck, she didnt. instead she ordered a round of shots for her team.

you watched secretly as she leaned against the bar looking around and jess nudged you, raising her eyebrows. you simply scoffed muttering a quiet "stop." to which she put her hands up in surrender, dropping the topic at hand.

after caitlin walked away with the shots, getting some help from connor, jess got up to order a drink and you realized you needed one of your own.

"can you get me something? something strong." you asked and she nodded

after a good 5 minutes she returned, sliding your drink in front of you. you eagerly took a sip, cringing slightly at the burning sensation.

"dude what the fuck is this" you groaned taking another sip.

"long island iced somethin, i dont know! the bartender recommended it" she shrugged before sipping her own drink.

you just sighed, before reluctantly finishing the drink as the night progressed. you knew you were drunk when you allowed jess to pull you to the dance floor without complaining. you danced along side the other people on the floor when you caught a glimpse of caitlin walking into the bathroom. and before your drunken mind could think twice about it, you found yourself following her.

inside the dimly lit hallway leading to the restrooms, the noise of the bar faded into a faint murmur. you hesitated briefly before entering the women’s restroom, where caitlin was already fixing her hair in the mirror.

you were already regretting your decision as you cleared your throat awkwardly, standing a safe distance away from her before pretending to adjust your outfit in the mirror.

she was focused on her hair for a moment before glancing at you in the mirror, giving you a once over. “you stalking me?” she asked slightly amused and your heart nearly stopped.

"no- um..no i just.. needed to fix my outfit" you said quickly. internally groaning at how nervous you sounded.

she chuckled, raising a brow. “uh huh.” she replied, turning to lean against the sink. “and i assume you weren't staring at me earlier either?”

"staring? i wasnt staring, my friend noticed you were here so i simply looked. i didnt stare" you lied straight through your teeth as you turned fully to face her.

a soft smirk played on her lips as she hummed. “right. not staring.” she teased. “so, why did you follow me in here then?” she followed up

and for a moment you completely forgot she was fucking caitlin clark. in your defense you were slightly drunk, not even thinking when you spit out your next words

"nobody followed you in here. i came to fix my outfit thats all" you scoffed, simultaneously rolling your eyes. you hadnt even noticed that she had taken a few steps closer to you. you glanced up nervously, only now were you realizing the insane height difference between you two.

she smirked softly, stepping away from the sink and slowly walking over to you, the smirk still on her lips. “right, right.” she said, nodding. she stopped in front of you, her eyes glancing you up and down. “your outfit looks fine to me.”

you furrowed your brows. what does one even say when they're caught in a lie? "um- yeah, because i fixed it" i said in an obvious tone

“mhm.” she hummed, nodding. she took a glance to the bathroom door.

you bit your lip looking up at her, you were still leaning back against the sink. "you having fun with your boyfriend?" you asked

she raised a brow, stepping closer again, now standing in front of you. her expression was unreadable, but the smirk on her lips told she was amused.

“why do you care?” she asked, her eyes scanning your face, studying your body, slowly.

"just wondering, didnt look like you were having a good time" you shrugged

"oh? so you were watching me the whole night?" she said in a teasing tone, lifting a brow. she let her eyes slowly rake over your body once more, her tongue slowly licking her lips.

your eyes widened momentarily at your slip up "not.. the whole night, i just.. noticed." you said looking back up at her

“righttt.” she hummed, not buying it. she took another step forward, now basically trapping you up against the sink.

“i didn’t think I’d have someone so fixated on me.” she said in a teasing tone, that smirk still tugging at her lips.

"you cant be serious.. you're caitlin clark.. in a bar.. full of your fans" you said amused. nonetheless you couldnt help but nervously look at down at where your bodies practically connected.

a soft chuckle left her lips, her eyes still on yours, taking in your reaction. her eyes flickered down to where your face was fixated and that smirk just grew again.

her smirk widened. “oh, so you're a fan then.” she teased, cocking her head to the side again, her eyes still studying your body.

one of her hands slowly slid up your waist and slowly around to the small of your back, pulling your hips to her.

your breath hitched involuntarily "um..no?" you honestly werent, but you weren't complaining about the position you were currently in.

caitlin chuckled softly, noticing the way your breath hitched. she slowly leaned forwards, her body pressing against yours. “you're not? so you wouldn’t mind if I did…this?” she asked, gripping your hip with one hand before leaning in, her lips hovering over yours

you glanced down at her lips before back up at her "no" you whispered

that was all she needed, her smirk turning into a devilish smile before she pressed her lips to yours. the kiss wasn’t shy or tentative, she was dominating and in charge, nipping your lip before slipping her tongue into your mouth.

you moaned softly into the kiss, your hand coming up to tangle in her hair

she pulled you impossibly close, backing you up so you were pressed against the sink, her hand gripping your waist as if to pin you there. her tongue exploring your mouth, she let out a soft moan as one of your hands tangled into her hair.

slowly she turned us around to back us into the bigger sized stall at the end, pulling away for a second to kick close and lock the door before pulling you in for another heated kiss

her hands were on you in an instant, exploring your body. she let out a another soft moan against your lips, pushing you up against the door, her body pressing against you. she slowly lifted your leg up, resting it against her hip as she slowly broke the kiss to kiss down your neck.

you threw your head back against the door, exposing more of your neck for her. your hand coming to tangle back into her hair

she kissed down your neck, nipping softly as her hands began to roam. exploring your body, they slowly ran up your thigh to your hip, her tongue sliding along your pulse point. she bit down on your neck, sucking on the skin there.

"fuck caitlin" you sighed biting your lip. one of your hands sliding underneath her crewneck, feeling her exposed skin.

she groaned against your neck, her fingers digging into your hips as your hand slid underneath her crewneck, the feeling of your fingers making her shiver. she nipped your ear, and spoke in a low whisper, “you like that?”

"yeah..i do" you said slowly "can i take this off?" you said pulling at the hem off her sweatshirt

she nodded as her lips connected to your neck again, her tongue licking at the sensitive skin. “go ahead.” she mumbled, pulling away to help you pull off the crewneck.

you tossed it on the small counter connected to the wall, glancing down at her body clad in just a black nike sports bra. you let out a slow shaky breath and for a moment you remember that you're literally pinned against a stall door by caitlin fucking clark. her words snapped me out of my trance

her hands were back on your body instantly, the feeling of your eyes roaming her body making her shiver. she smirked in satisfaction, leaning forwards so that she was right in front of you, her hands roaming. “see something you like?”

you simply hummed before pulling her back in for another kiss

she smirked against your lips as you pulled her back in, her body pressed flush against yours. one of her hands slowly went back down to your hip, pinning you against the door as she deepened the kiss. her tongue exploring your mouth, she moaned softly, her hands making their way behind your back to unzip your dress, letting it fall off your shoulders and pool at your feet.

you gasped softly before pulling away to look up at her

she pulled away from the kiss to catch her breath, her eyes raking over your body, taking in everything before her. she bit her lip to hold back a smirk, her eyes slowly meeting yours. “fuck, you’re so hot.” she said in a low sultry whisper, her eyes studying your face and your body.

"thanks.." you muttered as if that was an appropriate answer to being told you look 'hot' by caitlin clark.

she suddenly dropped to her knees her hands running over my thighs, holding your legs apart. she bit her lip, her eyes raking over your body. “you're so gorgeous.” she hummed, her lips trailing up your inner thigh, kissing the sensitive skin.

"oh fuck.. dont tease me please" you bit your lip stifling a moan that threatened to escape past your kiss bitten lips

she glanced up at you, noticing the way your bitten lip was failing to hold back a moan. she smirked again, her eyes darkened, taking in your expression. her hands slowly ran up your thighs, her lips getting closer and closer. "don't tease you?" she repeated teasingly, her nose brushing against your core through your underwear.

"caitlin please" you said gripping her hair tightly, your eyes fluttering shut at the feeling.

she groaned, letting out a soft moan as you tugged on her hair. the sound of you saying her name like that combined with the sound of you moaning, was almost enough to make her give in.

“you want me to stop teasing, hm?” she asked in a soft whisper, running her tongue slowly along your thigh, tasting the skin there.

"yes please. please stop.." you managed to get out through moans

she groaned again at the way you begged, her fingers slowly hooking into the hem of your underwear. her tongue running along your thigh, she slowly began to pull them down. “you have to be quiet though…can you be quiet for me?” she asked again in a low whisper, looking up at you as she tugged your underwear down your thighs.

you all but fucking whimpered at her words, the feeling of her tongue, her hands pulling your underwear down "yeah i can be quiet. please." you got out

she continued nipping at your inner thighs, her tongue soothing over it

"caitlin please. i promise ill be quiet, just please stop teasing" you whimpered softly

she let out another teasing chuckle, her hands slowly running down from your hips. “well because you’re being so good, i guess ill give you what you want.” she smirked

“what do you want, baby? Tell me exactly what you want.” she groaned

"want you to fuck me.. please.." you said looking down at her, tugging her closer to where you needed her

her breath hitched before her mouth connected to your core, groaning as she tasted you on her tongue. she moved slowly, letting her tongue tease you for a while, taking her time. her hands slowly trailing up your thighs, gripping them as if to hold you in place. “god…you taste so good…” she mumbled against you, her eyes slowly flickering up to yours

you squeezed your eyes shut, letting out a guttural moan. your hand tugged at her hair, pulling her impossibly closer as you arched into her touch

her hands came up to hold your hips, holding you in place as you arched into her. the sounds coming from your lips were driving her crazy…she needed to hear her name pass through those lips. “look at me.” She said, her tongue slowly tracing circles around your core.

you fluttered your eyes open to look down at her "fuck caitlin.. dont stop please" you begged absentmindedly

that’s all she wanted…to hear her name coming out of your lips, the needy, broken tone. she groaned, her tongue slowly picking up speed, her hands gripping your hips to keep you in place. “think you can take my fingers too? hm? tell me.” she mumbled, looking up at you.

you moaned before nodding quickly

she groaned at your reaction, “use your words…you have to beg for it.” she said, still moving her tongue at a fast rhythm, her eyes dark and blown out as she looked up at you, taking in the perfect sight before her.

"yes.. yes please fuck me caitlin.." you moaned out and it isnt until she slowly pumps her middle finger into your cunt, that you feel the coil in your stomach on the verge of snapping

"ooohhh fuck.. oh god just like that." you moaned out as she added another finger

she pumped her fingers in and out of you, enjoying the way your thighs clenched around her face as she brought you to your climax "you gonna come for me?" she muttered against your core

"mmhm yeah.. fuck im so close" you rambled before she sped up her actions, pushing you closer to the edge

her eyes darkened at the way how close you sounded, how wrecked she was making you feel. she curled her fingers, pumping them quickly , enjoying the way you squirmed under her touch. “come for me” she demanded, eyes trained on your face

"oh my god-" you moaned out as you came undone on her tongue, her fingers not slowing, instead helping you ride out your high

she watched you come undone, slowly bringing you back down to earth. once she knew you were done, she slowly pulled back, a small smirk appearing on her face as she took in your now wrecked expression. “you okay?”

you took a shaky breath fluttering your eyes back open.. "yeah.. holy shit" you managed to get out

she let out a small chuckle, slowly standing back up until she towered over you again. she bit her lip, her eyes slowly raking over your body before coming back up to your face. “you look fucked out…I did that.” she said with a cocky smirk.

you rolled my eyes "no way thats what you have to say after that."

she chuckled softly "i should get back out there, my team and.. connor.. are probably wondering where i went.." she said sighing

you narrowed your eyes before reluctantly pulling your dress back up your body "yeah you should.."

"you owe me though" she mumbled "give me your phone"

you furrowed your brows before unlocking your phone and handing it to her. she quickly typed in her number, adding her contact, her name simply said 'cait'

she helped zip up your dress before throwing her sweatshirt back on and walking out of the stall, where ironically she went to fix her hair and you your outfit.

"text me yeah?" she spoke up suddenly, turning to you

"yeah.. yeah i will" you said before she smiled and nodded before walking out of the bathroom. you smiled to yourself before walking out a few minutes after her to meet back up with jess.

lord knows you slept real good that night

#caitlin clark #caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark smut #type beat

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zaczenemiji · 5 months ago

Note

Hello Dearest Writer! I have read the Shattered Pride that you wrote which I like it! and I hope you don't mind me requesting ^^. I wanted to request for a lil' bit angsty Kenji Sato x Reader, where kenji & reader have a heated argument that leads to reader with tears streaming down her face from kenji's hurtful words and attempted to remove her engagement ring and proposed to end things for the better and kenji got scared and regret everything he said, so he asked for forgiveness, convinced her to stay and makes it up for her. Thank you so much, Writer! I hope you have a nice day!

Second to None

Kenji Sato x Reader

Word Count: 2,076

Genre/Warning: Angst, Character Development, Drama, Established Long-Term Relationship, Heartbreak, hurt/Comfort, Redemption

Author’s Note: My works are becoming longer lately 🤧 Is that a good thing or not?

MASTERLIST | Shattered Pride

The reservation; a special menu and a gift sat neatly wrapped beside your plate. Your eyes dart to the door every few minutes, eagerly yet anxiously anticipating Kenji’s arrival.

The minutes turned into an hour, each second becoming agonizingly longer than the last. Your discomfort became noticeable to those who arrived before and after you.

Some couples came in pairs. Others also waited but the arrival of their beloveds was only half as long as the duration of your waiting.

The waiter approached with a sympathetic smile. “Would you like to order now, miss?” He asked gently.

"Not yet," you replied, forcing a smile. "He should be here any minute." You smoothed down your dress, avoiding any more contact with someone who isn’t Kenji.

“Are you on your way? Our reservation was at 7,” your message long showed as delivered, but still, no reply, and all your calls went straight to voicemail.

Your heart sank as the waiter returned, his expression more apologetic than before, "Shall I bring you a drink while you wait?"

"Yes, please," you answered, trying to mask your growing disappointment. You chose a glass of your favorite wine with Kenji, hoping the familiar taste would bring some comfort.

It was your fifth anniversary together, a milestone you had been looking forward to for weeks. Yet just like last year, it seemed like this would be a missed one too.

The first years of your relationship were pure bliss. The years that followed were less exciting but more comfortable. Yet from last year til today, some things were never the same.

At first, it felt like it was just because both of you had gotten used to each other. But as time progressed, it started seeming like your relationship was just a background—a television turned on not for the sake of watching, but for the sake of not being alone.

It started with last year’s missed anniversary; he said that it was an important out-of-town game that he couldn't skip. "I'm so sorry, the game went into extra innings and I missed the last train back. I'll be home late.”

He went home the next day.

You reminisced your first anniversary, a weekend getaway, a brief escape from your busy lives. The second, you had gone to a cozy little restaurant. The third had been a quiet dinner at home.

The fourth anniversary was marked by absence and loneliness; as this year’s. It wasn't the first time Kenji's baseball career had come between you, but you had hoped that anniversaries would be different.

You started to wonder if you would always come second to his dreams.

Another hour passed and the restaurant began to empty as the night grew older. "Kenji, I'm still here. Please call me." But still, there was no response.

Finally, your phone buzzed, "I'm so sorry, practice ran late and then we had a team meeting. I’ll try to get there as soon as I can."

You stared at the message, a tear slipping down your cheek. You heard similar apologies countless times before, each one chipping away at your patience and hope.

You signaled the waiter and asked for the check. You couldn't sit there any longer and pretend that everything was fine.

You walked out into the cool night, clutching the small gift you had brought for Kenji. The streets were quiet, the city's usual buzz dulled by the lateness of the hour.

You felt a profound loneliness, one that wasn't just about this night but about the accumulation of missed moments and broken promises.

When you finally got home, the flat was dark. You placed the untouched gift on the table and changed into more comfortable clothes.

You were too drained, emotionally, to even wait for Kenji in case he’d come over. You lay down on your bed, more than willing to sleep off the pain you just can’t get used to.

As your consciousness was being tugged to sleep, your phone buzzed again. It was Kenji, calling. And for the first time, you decided to put yourself first and slept.

Morning came and you sat at the dining table, a half-empty glass of wine in front of you. It was far too early to be drinking, but the remnants of last night's disappointment and loneliness still clung to you, and you needed something to numb the ache.

You swirled the wine in your glass, your mind replaying the evening over and over. The beautifully wrapped gift lay discarded on the coffee table.

You immediately slept last night but somehow, you hoped that Kenji would walk through the door with some grand gesture, some sign that he valued your relationship as much as she did. But he never came.

The sound of the key turning in the lock pulled you from your thoughts. Kenji walked in, looking exhausted and worn. His eyes immediately found yours, and he saw the wine glass in your hand.

"You're drinking this early?" he asked, concern laced with surprise. You didn't respond, just took another sip.

The silence was heavy, filled with all the words you wanted to say but didn't know how to begin. You set the glass down and met his gaze.

"Do you even realize what day it was yesterday, Kenji?" you asked, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, "Of course, I do. I'm so sorry. Practice ran late and then there was an unexpected team meeting. I—“

"You always have an excuse,” You cut him off, your voice rising. “Do you know how many times I've heard 'practice ran late' or 'there was a meeting’? I'm tired of it!"

"I know," he said, trying to calm you down. "I really wanted to be here, but you know how important baseball is to me."

"And what about me, Kenji? Am I not important to you?" you snapped, tears welling up in your eyes. "I've sacrificed everything for you! I left my career, my family, my friends, everything to come to Japan and support you! And for what? To be stood up on our anniversary again?"

His face tightened, "It's not like that. You knew what you were getting into when you decided to come with me."

You took a step back, your voice dropping to a whisper. "So, it's my fault now?” You asked. “I chose to support you because I believed in us. But it feels like I'm the only one making sacrifices here."

"That's not fair," he retorted, frustration creeping into his tone. "I work hard for us. I'm trying to build a future for us."

"But at what cost, Kenji?" you shot back. "Every time I need you, you're not there. Every important moment, every milestone, you're always somewhere else. Do you even understand how lonely that is?"

He ran a hand through his hair, struggling to find the right words, "I'm doing my best. It's just... baseball is my dream. I can't give that up."

"And what about my dreams?" you cried, your voice breaking. "I had a career I loved, a life I was proud of! I gave all that up for you, believing that you would be there for me, that we would support each other. But it feels like I'm the only one who gave anything up!”

He took a deep breath, his own anger rising. "I never asked you to give up your career!” He said. “You made that choice!”

Your eyes widened in shock and pain. "I made that choice because I loved you—because I thought we were building a life together,” you said, voice softening and heart breaking. “But it seems like I'm the only one who sees it that way."

There was a long silence as you two stared at each other, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily between you. Slowly, you reached for your engagement ring, your hands shaking.

"What are you doing?" Kenji asked, panic creeping into his voice.

You struggled to remove the ring, tears streaming down your face. "Maybe we're fooling ourselves, Kenji,” you said in between sobs. “Maybe this isn't working. I can't keep feeling like I'm second to your career. Maybe it's better if we end this now."

His heart raced, panic surged through him, and his voice trembled with desperation. "No, please don't," he said, stepping closer, his hands reaching out but hesitating to touch you. "I'm sorry for everything I've said. I didn't mean it. I love you, and I can't lose you."

You looked at him, the ring held loosely in your hand. "Do you really love me, Kenji?” You asked. “Or do you love the idea of me being here, waiting for you, always understanding and never complaining?"

He stepped closer, his eyes pleading. "I love you. I know I've been an idiot, and I know I haven't been there for you like I should. But I promise I'll do better. Just please, don't leave me."

His eyes filled with tears as he dropped to his knees in front of you, the weight of his regret crashing down on him. "I love you," he said, his voice breaking. "I know I've been an idiot, and I know I haven't been there for you like I should. Every time I chose baseball over you, I was wrong. I see that now.”

“Please, don't take off that ring. Don't leave me,” he pleased. “I can't imagine my life without you."

You looked down at him, your own tears blurring your vision, “How can I believe you, Kenji?"

He reached out, taking her hands in his and holding them tightly. "Because I can't bear the thought of losing you,” he said. “I'll do whatever it takes to prove to you that you're the most important thing in my life. I'll talk to my coach, I'll cut back on practice—anything. Just please, give me one more chance."

You hesitated, the pain and love warring within you. His eyes were filled with genuine fear and remorse, and you could feel his hands trembling. "One more chance, Kenji,” you said. “But things have to change. I can't keep feeling like this."

He nodded fervently, pulling you into a tight embrace, his heart pounding with a mix of relief and fear. "I promise, things will change,” he said. “I'll make it up to you, I swear. I love you more than anything. Please, believe me."

The next morning, Kenji came over early and made you breakfast, a small but heartfelt gesture to start making amends. He took the morning off practice and thought of having breakfast together.

Over the next few weeks, Kenji made noticeable changes. He began to prioritize your time together, making sure to balance his demanding baseball schedule with moments that were just for you two.

One evening, as you sat on the couch watching a movie, Kenji turned to you with a serious expression, "I talked to a few people, and I found a way for you to continue your work here in Japan.”

You looked at him, curiosity and hope in your eyes, "What do you mean?"

“There are some production companies interested in meeting with you,” he said. “I want you to have your career back, to have something that's yours."

Tears welled up in your eyes, this time from gratitude and joy. "Kenji, that's... I don't know what to say. Thank you."

He took your hand, squeezing it gently. "I want you to be happy. I want us to build our lives together, supporting each other's dreams,” he said. “I'm sorry it took me so long to realize how much you were sacrificing."

True to his word, Kenji began to make your relationship a priority. He surprised you with small dates, like picnics in the park or quiet dinners at home. He even started learning a bit of Japanese cuisine to cook your favorite meals.

Kenji made it a point to never miss another important moment, attending every event and celebration that mattered to you. He cheered you on as you restarted your career, eager to see you shine.

In the end, you both learned that love required effort and compromise from both sides. It wasn't always easy, but you faced your challenges together, knowing that your love was worth fighting for. And with each passing day, you both found yourselves more deeply in love, more committed to the life you were building together.

Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots

@ppiglovestravel-blog @eternallyvenus @puppyminnnie @wattpadsuckssohard @sakura-onesan @reggies-eyeliner @buggs-1 @miffysoo @spencerrxids @stupidbutsmart @marimargirlies @mixvchelle @lannnu @lailuv21 @christiinee @abracarabbit @youngbananamilkshake @flutterfly365 @o-schist @brazilsho @arrozyfrijoles23 @finestflora @mmeerraa @mianbaobaoo @skyeliteratures @themourningfox @despacito-uwu16 @crimson-mage-02 @vinegarjello @btszn @berryjuicyy @https-mika @reader-1290

#kenji sato x reader #kenji sato #ken sato x reader #ken sato #ultraman: rising #ultraman #fanfiction #oneshot #dream of the endless #angst

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kaitlynpcallmebeepme · 8 months ago

Text

Sea Sickness

Luke Hughes x fem!reader (established relationship, but still new)

Idea: Reader gets nauseous from being on the boat at the Hughes’s Lake House and snuggles up to Luke.

Requested: Nope.

Author’s Note: I know I’m bouncing around who I’m writing for, but I’m on a NHL spree right now. I also get nauseated if I'm on a boat or in the ocean for too long. Fun Fact: I wrote the beginning part of this on a note card while working by myself in the OR today. We had a really long case where I just had to check up on people during the middle of it (hence why I wrote this on a card because I don’t like going on my phone when I’m in the OR. It's unprofessional). I don’t know any of these people personally. The closest I’ve gotten to the team (that wasn’t just playing in the band at the games or when they were walking past us down the 2023 red carpet in tampa) was a tuba was talking to some of them in his plane row on the ride back from that trip (he ended up being the tuba you see in the senior picture from 2024) and one of the coaches had to share our bus on the way back from the 2023 frozen four game with his wife and two young daughters (I kept trying to get the younger one to smile at me unsuccessfully). Someone from my hotel room also shared the elevator ride up with the entire Fantilli family the night they lost that game in 2023 (I think Adam also won the Hobey Baker award that same night). I’ve also been playing my lego lord of the rings game. Anyway, enjoy this little blurb.

Tagging some of my favorite Hughes/NHL writers, love y’all.

@wineauntie @thedevilrisen @winterbarnesblog @sc0tters

I forgot to mention that this is kinda based on the cute stuff @bedsyandco writes

I'm now sad when I'm uploading this because a friend from college drumline has an incurable brain cancer. Please keep him in your thoughts and prayers (he's only 19 or 20).

Requests are still open. Feedback is always appreciated. Also, tell me if you want to be part of a Tag List and I’ll tag you when I upload something new. If you want to only be tagged when I upload something for a certain character or shows, let me know as well.

Warning: None, just general fluff. Feeling sick on a boat.

Word Count: 488

Being on a boat wasn’t your most favorite thing in the world, mainly because the last time you were on a boat, it got stuck in the middle of the laek and had to be towed back to shore (true story), but when your boyfriend Luke invited you to spend the weekend at the lakehouse with ihs brothers and friends, you weren't going to say no. The weekend had been filled with lots of eating, playing outside, and the boys being competitive at every game they pick up (even the old board game you brought to teach them how to play). Just trying to keep up with them all was exhausting, so that’s how you ended up on the back of the boat enjoying the warm air instead of diving into the water again. The boys had been going back and forth between wakeboarding and chatting on the boat deck. With them supplying the lake with plenty of waves, the constand up and down was starting to make your stomach sick. You scooched over and made yourself comfortable laying your head on Luke’s shoulder. He then opened his arms and wrapped you in his warm embrace so you could crawl on his lap and snuggle closer to his chest.

“You feeling ok?”

“Yeah, just want to stop the constant movement.” It was getting to a point were you just wanted to stop the constant movement. It being really hot out didn’t help either.

“We’ll head to shore soon. Then we can cool off inside.”

Being wrapped up in Luke’s embrace with his fingers gently carding through your hair or down your shoulder leaving goosebumps in their wake and shading you with his fit body definitely helped keep your mind off of your stomach and the boat’s ever shifting movements. Luke wasn’t much of a pda person, but you always encouraged him to show little bits of it at least in front of his family or close friends.

Little did you know, that’s exactly who was eyeing the interaction. Jack, Quinn, Trevor, Cole, and Dylan all had stopped what they were talking about in favor of watching the interaction between you two. Eventhough they were not all related, they felt like proud older brothers seeing Luke be so considerate and affectionate in front of them. Of couse they’re all going to tease him relentlessly later about this, but they were gentlemen in regards to respecting the timing and the moment.

“Just lay down and close your eyes. We’ll be on shore soon.” You snuggled deeper into Luke’s neck keeping your eyes closed and focused on his soft skin, his natural scent, and the way his warm body curled around yours. He even tugged on your legs to pull you fully into his lap as his large frame wrapped around your body fully encasing you in his warmth and comfort.

Nothing better than enjoying the summer with those you love.

#nhl imagine #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes #hughes brothers #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #quinn hughes x reader #nhl #nhl players #hockey #hockey imagine #new jersey devils #nj devils #umich hockey #umich imagine #umich x reader

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sailorrhansol · 1 month ago

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hi! long time reader, first time submit-er :) could i request a dilf!wonwoo fic where you’re trying to get your kids out the door to trick or treat with a friend or a family member because you and wonwoo have a halloween party and you get self conscious that you don’t look hot enough in your costume but wonwoo disagrees? very fluffy, maybe even smutty if that works for you hehe

❀ Pairing: Dad!Wonwoo x Mom!reader

❀ Summary: For the first Halloween in years, you and Wonwoo are able to enjoy it together without the kids. When you feel a little nervous about your costume, Wonwoo is determined to show you that you’ve always been the sweetest thing.

❀ Word Count: 2,278

❀ Genre: Slice of Life, Married Couple/Parents

❀ Type: Smut, Fluff

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Warnings: Light mentions of anxiety regarding letting kids go trick-or-treating without them, slight body insecurity and light mentions of a skirt not fitting comfortably, sexually explicit content including oral (f. receiving), vaginal fingering, spitting, hair pulling, stupid and corny during sex.

❀ A/N: Hey so anyway I’m not even that big of a fan of dilf-teen or parent-fic but here we are and I am ACTUALLY VERY INTERESTED IN DAD WONWOO NOW. SO THIS IS NOW YOUR FAULT THAT I’M THINKING ABOUT IT. Also the visual of Jihoon with a kid on his shoulders sent me into an early grave.

❀ A/N 2: PLEASE THE BANNER IS NERDY BUT THEY’RE DRESSED AS COWBOYS OK LMFAO

❀ Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

Main Masterlist ❀ Tag List Request Form ❀ Ask ❀ Haliween

“Soonyoung, her crown!” You warn, watching as your friend smacks the plastic crown off Haen’s head. She doesn’t seem to notice, too busy digging her greedy little hands in the pocket of his tiger onesie where she knows she’ll find candy. “Are you sure you can do this?”

Soonyoung scoffs. His outrage is lessened by the ridiculous tiger onesie he’s in, the suit zipped to the neck and the hood pulled up over his head. He’s got Iseul in his arms, cradling her in her dragon costume as she pulls on his hood while Haen reveals a Jolly Rancher.

“Maybe we-”

Wonwoo’s hand on your lower back cuts you off as he steps through the door frame. He pitches his voice low and gentle as he crouches down, eye level with your eldest child. “Hey, no candy until after. We agreed, remember?”

Pouting, she shoves the candy back inside Soonyoung’s pocket. Behind him, Jihoon and Jeonghan snort. “Yes, daddy. Sorry, I excited.”

Mouth pressed firmly to hide your smile, you feel the overwhelming sense of love for her as she puts her hands behind her back, waiting patiently for Soonyoung to escort her down the steps and sidewalk to go trick-or-treating.

“We’ll be fine,” Soonyoung assures, pouting as he takes Haen’s hand and spins around. Your other friends hold out the empty buckets made to be filled with candy. “We promised we had them, and we do!”

Wonwoo stands, hand sliding up your back as he does. “You remember where the key is?”

“Yes, daddy,” Soonyoung calls over his shoulder. He passes Iseul to Jeonghan, who holds her far less precariously. “We’ll let you know when we’re back. Go out on the town or whatever it is parents with no kids do.”

Children and parents line the streets. You watch your little group of friends with your two kids meander down the sidewalk, Jihoon immediately lifting Haeun to put her on his shoulders. Nerves eat away at you as they finally vanish from your line of vision, lost to the other swarms of trick-or-treaters and bobbing halloween lights hanging from trees.

“Maybe we should-”

“Nope,” Wonwoo says gently, pulling you toward him. “They’ll do fine. Jihoon is with them, what could go wrong?”

Blowing out a sigh you nod, taking a moment to just drink him in. As much as he hates dressing up on Halloween, he’s done it again this year for you, dressed in the exact cowboy costume that you had put together for him. It’s less a costume than it is precariously picked clothes - the tan, suede button up and brown leather pants had already been in his closet, along with the belt and bolo tie. You’d just purchased the hat and the boots to complete the look.

And it is a look.

Wonwoo has always had the annoying ability to look good in whatever he wears. It doesn’t matter if he’s sitting on the couch in a shirt with juice stains from Iseul spilling her apple juice all over him or if he’s in a pressed suit at a company holiday party - he looks good in everything.

Heading back inside, you catch yourself in the mirror near the entrance, tugging at your skirt a little. It’s a little higher and tighter than you remember, and the button digs into your stomach a bit more than you like. Chewing your lip, you quickly turn from the mirror, busying yourself in the kitchen looking for your car keys and purse.

Wonwoo follows you silently, leaning against the door frame as he watches you. His eyes are heavy on you, your stomach fluttering as you drop a credit card onto the floor. Cursing, you bend down to get it, feeling the skirt hug you tightly and restrict your movement for a second.

“I’ve got it,” he says quietly, pushing off the wall.

“No, no,” you manage to peel it off the tile. “This damn skirt is so much tighter than it used to be. God.” Standing up again, you shove your card into the wallet, not meeting his eyes as he drifts toward you. “Maybe I should change.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s just… I don’t know.”

“I think it looks fucking fantastic.” You roll your eyes, looking at him with a deadpan stare. His mouth twitches a little as he drops his gaze to the jean skirt in question. “You look fucking hot.”

“We’re married. You have to say that.”

“Weird. I don’t remember that being in our vows.”

“It definitely was.” You fiddle with the zipper on your wallet, nibbling on your bottom lip. “I think it was right after in sickness. It said and always tell your wife she’s hot.”

His laugh is throaty and he reaches for you. You let him, his hands soft as he pulls you toward him by the waist. He smells like spicy cologne and something that is distinctly Wonwoo. Instead of looking up to meet his gaze, you focus on the pocket of his shirt, lifting your hands to fidget with it and press it flat.

“Baby,” he murmurs. You still don’t look up at him, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. “I really like the skirt, but you can wear whatever you want.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm. It makes your legs look good. Not to mention…” One hand drifts from your hip to your ass, squeezing generously. Your breath catches and your eyes flick up to meet his. They’re dark, a playful edge to his gaze that you’re intimately familiar with. “You look good in everything to me.”

“Hmm.”

“Hmm?” he imitates. Wonwoo’s fingers skim the edge of the skirt, brushing across your thighs. You shiver, clinging to him a little as your eyes flutter shut at the contact. You can feel your heart hammering in your chest as he says, “Want me to help you out of it?”

The two of you have been together for nine years, married for six. You know every part of your best friend turned boyfriend turned husband. There is no corner of his heart he has left unturned to you, no thought that you cannot complete, no words he can speak that you don’t already know.

So when he asks if you want him to help you out of it you know what he’s asking you. He isn’t saying he’ll help you out and to pick out a new skirt. He isn’t asking you to change it. He doesn’t even want you to put the skirt back on, if his hungry gaze and the low pitch of his voice tells you anything.

“I thought you wanted to go to the halloween party.”

His laugh comes out in a huff. “I’d like to get you out of that skirt more.”

Wonwoo’s fingers curl around the edge of your skirt, a question. “Please.”

Wonwoo has never denied you anything, and he doesn’t now. He spins you against the counter so that your hips are pressed to it, your back to his chest. He sinks his hands down your front, fingers deftly undoing the button. His hot breath is on your neck, his lips barely skimming your skin in an almost-kiss.

Button popped, Wonwoo pulls the material open. Instead of rolling it down at the waist, his hand snakes into your skirt, pressing against your underwear as his mouth connects with your throat. You let out a breathy noise, melting in his arms as he presses his fingers to your clit over the silk of your underwear.

“Oh,” you breath, going slack against him. He doesn’t mind, pinning you between him and the counter as he circles his fingers teasingly. He keeps his mouth busy, pressing wet kisses up your throat and toward your jaw. “Thought you wanted me out of it.”

“I will,” he promises, nipping your jaw. You tilt your head to the side, giving him more access. The lower pit of your stomach burns with desire, sparking at his lazy touch. “Just wanted to touch first.”

“Slow ain’t your thing, cowboy?”

“Nah, I’ve got a pretty thing that wants to take a ride.”

Your laugh is cut off by a hiss, your head falling forward, as Wonwoo glides a finger down to press at your entrance. You feel your muscles clench, your stomach lurching as he teases you. A hand shoots to his wrist and you dig your fingers in, nails biting.

“Be nice,” you warn sternly.

“Mmm. You’re using your mommy voice.”

“I wouldn’t have to if daddy was being nice.”

“Daddy says he’ll make up for it.”

Daddy does. He always does. Wonwoo loves to tease you and make you beg for it, but he doesn’t now, fingers pulling your underwear to the side so he can stroke your pussy in full. He moans at the wetness he finds, hooking his chin over your shoulder to watch as he works his hand between your legs.

Wonwoo’s fingers are deft and skillful, applying just the right pressure and stimulation to work you up. Your breath becomes stilted, feeling the ripples of pleasure as he gets you where he wants you. Pinned between him and the counter, you can’t move. Can’t squirm. Can’t buck your hands to meet his strokes when he sinks a finger into your cunt.

“Fuck,” he rasps, pressing a messy kiss to your shoulder. “Like fucking silk.”

Heat creeps up your neck. You feel breathless under his attention, the heel of his palm pressing into your clit as Wonwoo leisurely fucks you with his finger, dragging it out only to slide up to your clit, circling gently.

Your fingers dig into him as Wonwoo strings you along, enjoying the way your sounds turn airy and weak. He plays you perfectly, working you up until you feel your thighs twitching, eyes shut as you let him steer you toward your peak.

Wonwoo pulls his hand from your skirt, making you eyes fly open, mouth hanging open. Turning to yell at him over your shoulder, your words are lost as he drops to his knees, fingers yanking your skirt as he goes.

Cool air hits your legs as he taps your ankle, asking you to step out of the skirt. You do and he rewards you with a gentle kiss on the back of your thigh, his hands skimming up your legs. You feel the coolness wear his wet fingers leave a slick trail on your skin.

Leaning forward, he plans another gentle kiss on the curve of your ass, making you laugh. He hums pleasantly, hands warm and explorative. He presses the small of your back gently, making you lean onto the counter, ass out.

Delicately, he peels your underwear from your hips, tossing them somewhere else. His hands return to your legs, pressing gently to pry your thighs apart. He groans at your messy cunt, no doubt proud of his work.

The marble countertop is freezing cold, ground you as you rest your cheek on it. You feel your chest heavy, holding your breath for a moment when Wonwoo leans forward and dips his tongue between your folds tentatively.

“Soonyoung should take the kids more often,” Wonwoo notes, breath hitting you between the legs. You make a strangled sound, distracted by the way his fingers squeeze your thighs, digging into the meat of them. His tongue dips back in, dragging upward again. “Want to do this more.”

“You - fuck - did this last night.”

“Not with you bent over the counter and this pretty ass in my face.” His hand smacks your ass lightly, making you squeal. He laughs deep in his throat, a little bit of a groan as he mutters, “Exactly.”

Wonwoo stops talking, mouth busy as he fastens his lips to your heat, sucking gently. He drives you insane, losing yourself in the way his tongue circles gently around your bundle of nerves. He alternates between tongue and lips, a shattering combination of heaven and hell as he works you toward an orgasm.

His mouth isn’t the reason you fell in love with him, but as you start breaking apart, you think it might be a solid entry on the list of reasons. You reach back with one hand, knocking the hat off his head to tangle your fingers in his hair. He grunts, appreciative as he gives a particularly greedy suck, making your toes curl.

“Fuck,” he mutters, breaking away for a second. His fingers peel you open and you moan when you feel him spit against your hole, clenching around nothing. “Who needs candy when I have the sweetest thing right here?”

“Wonwoo.”

“You even melt in my mouth.”

“Wonwoo.”

He chuckles. “Yeah baby, I know.”

He always knows. He attaches his mouth back to you, slick and messy and loud as he works you to your orgasm. Your nails dig against his scalp - he doesn’t care. He lets you tug him further in, happy to press his face as close to your heat as possible.

You press back into him, muscle clenching. You burst like a bubble, completely coming undone under his mouth as you come against him, face pressed to the counter. He pushes you through it, not letting you escape him when you try and wiggle away, tongue hot and hungry until you’re begging him to let up.

Wonwoo pulls away, breathing heavily. His hands skate up and down your legs and suddenly you’re grateful your weight is all on the countertop, thighs totally useless.

“God damn,” you pants, eyes shut.

“Yeah,” he agrees and stands. You feel him crowd you in, touch seeking your hips. “Catch your breath, partner. You still got a ride to go on.”

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#wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo smut #wonu smut #svt smut #wonwoo x reader #wonu x reader #seventeen smut #wonwoo fic #wonwoo fanfic #minors do not interact #minors dni #haliween

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raes-writing-space · 1 year ago

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Ruggie Purring Headcanons

A/N: I’ve had absolute brainrot for Ruggie since I got my grubby little hands on this game awhile back, and he has consumed my very life and become a comfort character for me. So here are some purring headcanons that I just... can’t fucking get out of my head.

Warnings: None that I know of.

- Yeah so apparently hyenas can purr? So my brain absolutely took that idea and ran with it.

- Ruggie, who doesn’t understand that he has a crush on you at first, and is actually confused why he’s purring, as it can be both a subconscious and conscious thing. However, as soon as it happens and he’s aware of it, he immediately stops it and covers it up with a blush on his face and a teasing jab at you to change the subject entirely.

- Ruggie, who after he starts dating you, and is that “honeymoon phase” of his excitement, can’t stop purring in your presence sometimes, especially when the two of you are alone.

- Ruggie, who, when he’s stressed out beyond belief, hurt, or just upset, purrs to self-soothe himself.

- Ruggie, who, notices whenever you’re stressed out beyond belief, hurt, or upset, will purr to soothe you. He’ll wrap you up in his arms and purr so loudly that you can almost “feel” his chest vibrating against yours in a way. Sometimes he might not be good with words, but he does show that he cares in the instinctive ways he knows how.

- Ruggie, who, absolutely would be teased by anyone if he was gushing about you in some way, and accidentally starts purring because he’s thinking of you. His grandma in particular thinks it’s very adorable that you have that kind of effect on him.

Anyway I have an absolute obsession with this dude and I wholeheartedly blame him from stealing my heart. To think I started this whole game because I saw Idia and needed to know more about him, even picked his card when I started the game, only to be absolutely SIDE SWEPT by this little hyena dude and fall on my ass in love with him.

#Ruggie Bucchi #Ruggie Bucchi x Reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader

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vxnuslogy · 3 months ago

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— kaibigan lang.

pairing: gen narumi x gn!reader

premise:you, a platoon leader from the first division, and gen narumi, the first division captain, have a strangely close relationship; the two of you bring a new meaning to the words "just friends."

— warnings: none

— author’s note: this is actually my second attempt at this fic, the first one got too long and angsty LMAOO and i didn't like how it ended so i decided to just remake it entirely. this is very inspired by "balang araw" by i belong to the zoo, please go give it a listen!! art credits to @.DanG0_23 on twitter. | ~1.1k words.

you and gen narumi have a very special and close relationship. he makes you feel special for all the right—and wrong—reasons.

from the very first time you met him, you felt a feeling deep within your chest that you and him will inevitably be inseparable. you’re not sure if you want to pat yourself on the back for predicting the future or shake yourself by the shoulders for jinxing it.

you grew fond of his childish tendencies, how he points an accusing finger at you when you beat more kaijus than him. when he pouts at the ‘you lose’ title screen on his console. and not to mention the numerous times he’s fallen asleep on your lap as you weave your fingers through his hair. the way his shoulders release their tension when he sees you from across the room or how his magenta eyes seemed a little softer than normal.

multiple people have questioned your relationship, but his reply would always be: “we’re just friends.” and you feel a part of yourself die each time.

does being “just friends” include sneaking out of his room in the middle of the night so he could comfort you after a terrible nightmare? does being “just friends” include seaking each other out at every meeting and smiling like two idiots in love? does being “just friends” include making heartfelt promises after a dangerous mission? promises of keeping each other safe and if either of you were to fail, then the other will follow you to their grave sooner or later?

none of these actions seem to say “just friends” but what could you do? if that’s how gen narumi sees you, then who were you to force him to see you in a different light? being able to keep him close as a friend is better than having to say goodbye to him and live your life as two strangers with memories.

“you sure you’re just friends?” rin shinonome, a fellow platoon leader and your closest friend, asks you.

you gave her a tight-lipped smile. “one-hundred percent!”

she squints her eyes at you. she looked unconvinced–like always–but didn't comment on it further. for a while, the two of you sat and ate in awkward silence until tachibana sat himself down next to you and said, “pretty sure friends don’t look at each other like they're each other’s worlds.”

rin suddenly slams her hand on the table, a loud bang resounds in the cafeteria as she agrees with his statement. you wince from the loud noise and try to refute tachibana’s claims. surely you didn’t really look at narumi like that, right? you just saw him as a friend, honest! as the two continued their chat, you couldn’t help but try and sneak a quick glance at your captain.

maybe that was another mistake you always make: look for him in every room then be uncharacteristically happy when you realize he’s also looking your way. you feel a smile creep up your face when he turns his console around to show off the bright ‘you win!’ title screen. narumi had that smug smirk on his face as he pushed his hair back so you could get the perfect view of his magenta eyes.

“just friends” don’t look at each other like this, like tachibana said, but narumi is your friend.

“what were you and platoon leader shinonome and tachibana talking about?” narumi suddenly asks. he caught you off guard so badly your in-game character died, making him let out a proud laugh. “ha! i win.”

you roll your eyes and shove at his shoulder. “that’s not fair. you distracted me.”

“how could a question be a distraction?” he drawls, yawning and placing his head casually on your lap. this guy even had the audacity to reach for your hand and place it on his head, silently asking you to play with his hair.

you let out a sigh. “it was nothing. just the usual chat about the mission.”

it was partially the truth, before lunch ended the three of you did talk about the upcoming mission. but no way in hell will you mention the way you talked about your questionable relationship with your captain.

you don’t realize you’ve stopped playing with his hair until his knuckles brush against your nose bridge. “you’re acting really strange. the hell did you actually talk about?”

“it's really nothing,” you reply just above whispering. you hate how your head consciously leaned more into his hand that now held your jaw and the way his voice sounded just a few octaves softer than normal. “you don’t have to worry about it.”

“tell me,” he demands, eyes narrowing down into a glare. “as your captain, i have the right to know what’s bothering you.”

a snort left your lips as he tried to use the captain card on you but it never really worked. your fingers press on his forehead to try and ease his furrowed brows, the insides of your mind trying to find a way to deflect the topic but his eyes, oh his eyes, they tempt you like how the devil tempted eve to take the forbidden fruit.

“after the next mission,” you start, eyes crinkling into small crescent moons as you smile. “i’ll tell you if you manage to bring down the daikaiju in one hit.”

narumi smirks with all the arrogance and pride known to mankind before taking your hand in his. you bite your lip to stop the growing grin on your face as he presses a soft kiss inside your palm and whispers a soft promise to win the next fight with overwhelming strength.

“you promise?” he asks, the playful smirk still on his lips and your palm pressed to the side of his face. but his eyes had just a tiny spark of worry. was it for the upcoming mission or was it because of what you wanted to say? either way, you ease his worries with a soft drag of your fingertips down his nose, like he did to you.

you nod with a defeated yet fond sigh. “i promise.”

“just friends” didn’t act this way nor did they make promises easily. gen narumi himself knew of the consequences of growing too close with his fellow officers, but you were different. you weren’t just some other officer—you were his before the both of you even knew it. sure, there were times where you stayed up at night staring at the ceiling trying to make out what your relationship actually is, but it always ended with you smiling like a fool accompanied with a furious blush on your cheeks.

‘how i wish to be officially yours, gen narumi.’

#kaiju no. 8 x reader #kaiju no. 8 x you #kn8 x reader #kn8 x you #narumi x reader #narumi x you #gen narumi x reader #gen narumi x you #( 🂡 ) – royal flush of stories .ᐟ

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velvetures · 1 year ago

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Hi!!! I saw your post about taking some requests so I thought that I'll give it a shot. If it's possible, could you maybe do a Captain Price one? I haven't seen a story about him yet on your page, so I hope that this request can finally add one to your masterlist.

So here it goes: A Price x virgin!reader one. I feel like he's the type of guy to be really gentle and slow when he realizes that the reader is inexperienced, mostly due to his calm and caring nature. But once they start to get comfy, he'll get kind of rough in some way? And aftercare, I just know that this man would be an expert at it. Would help in washing them up in a tub or even cooking them a meal after. I could see that he's also a sucker for cuddles and just being close to them in general.

So yeah, I really hope that you'll consider this request and possibly write something out of it. If not, that's totally okay!!

Side note: I just wanted to say that I love your stories and that it brings me comfort, too:))

I Knew, Sweetheart

A/N: I'm so sorry this is so fucking looonngg!! I just couldn't get it right and I ended up going for "better is more" in the hopes that it'll hide the god-awful writing. :( Anyways, please don't burn me at the stake. It's my first Price fic, and I've still not got his voice or character dialed in. Summary: Reader is Price's gf, and while they've been together for a little while... sex hasn't come up. Nor the fact that the reader is a virgin!. Reader goes about bringing it up a little unconventionally, and things progress. T/W: virgin!reader, fem-reader, NS/FW 18+ ONLY, p-in-v sex, fingering, unprotected sex (don't do that IRL), established relationship, a little bit of an age-difference?, cursing?, first-time anxiety?, aftercare, probably missed something else. proofreading is for people w/ friends of which I have none.

John Price set himself apart from most of the men that he often worked alongside when it came to matters of his personal life and the ways in which he operated. A lot of people would often make jokes, saying it was nothing more than his being an “old man” who couldn’t adjust to the newer ways of life. But fuck, he wasn’t that old when it came right down to it, and yes he liked going along with the traditional ways specifically when it came to relationships, at least when he had the chance to. He’d been a lot younger at one point, not seeing how detrimental his actions could’ve been affecting the women he associated with or spent a few hours in bed with just to leave without another word sent their way.

Captain Price knew he’d made many mistakes when the heart was involved. He threw away a lot of advice he’d been given growing up -some good and some bad- all because he thought he knew better or had enough intelligence to figure it out as he went. Much of that changed when he started realizing that he wasn’t fulfilled in the slightest. For a few years, he was bitter over the emptiness. Not understanding where it came from or how the fuck he could get rid of it. Unraveling layer after layer like a frayed pair of jeans, John kept questioning how he’d come so far just to be that alone. Praying his mistakes hadn’t destroyed his chances of finding a little sliver of humanity outside of his work to motivate him. Keep him sane in the most bitter of hours, and soft when everything and everyone else around him kept adding brick after brick into never-ending, emotionless walls.

Then you showed up out of nowhere, sitting on a barstool in one of the pubs he frequented when he had some time away from his work. Close to home and nowhere near busy enough to call a bar or club; John immediately thought you looked like you’d taken a wrong turn and wound up in an old man’s hangout. It took him a few hours of watching out of the corner of his eye to finally weigh the options of being shot down, or possibly making something out of a whole lot of nothing. His offering to buy you a drink led to taking a few puffs off of his cigar outside. From there he learned just about everything about you within the first few weeks of seeing you or calling here and there.

You liked to talk, a lot. Something John was thankful for since he developed a bad habit of just staring at your pretty face instead of listening like he knew too. Fuck it made him feel ten years younger. And that was something else that made your relationship feel unusual to the Captain. More than six years in age difference didn’t sound all that significant on paper. Yet it was more interesting than either of you thought it would be initially. Aside from just simple pop culture references and enjoyment of music and other low-stakes things, your lives were on different paces. John was stable… at least as stable as his work allowed for. While you’d finally got the job you’d been dreaming of, and hadn’t been working for a full year when you met him. Everything all together challenged John, and you as well, with figuring out what you wanted from each other. How you planned -or wanted to- go about making that happen. And if being serious was something that you shared an interest in.

A few months of going on dates and John walking you home was traded for him sharing half the dresser drawers in his bedroom with you. He was gone nearly all of the time, which put a damper on things but he liked having peace of mind that you were safe and in his home. Besides, it was a short drive from his house to your work and you could stop paying half your paychecks on rent and start saving it up for anything you really wanted. At least… anything John hadn’t already bought or given you. Well… there was one thing John hadn’t given you. And it began gnawing at your mind harder and harder every time he went away for a mission and came home without the slightest inclination to do more than give you a kiss.

John Price still hadn’t asked or hinted at wanting to have sex with you.

At first, you thought it was refreshing. Seeing a man old enough and patient to understand that sex wasn’t just given but earned. Yet every time you thought there would be a moment after a date or a ‘welcome home reunion’ where he’d finally bring up the topic, your expectations fell short. Plenty of excuses floated around your brain, including the more rational ones: he was just very respectful. While others were much more self-conscious and saddening: he was getting it somewhere else, or he could see that you weren’t experienced. The age-old struggle of being a virgin past the age of eighteen.

Too old for half the population, and far too young and inexperienced for the others. Sheltered didn’t describe you. You had toys and knew how to give head as well as having been on the receiving end. But going “all the way” eluded you by some miracle or curse. Looking at John in comparison to yourself was just as attractive as it was intimidating. You knew better than to think he didn’t know his way around the bedroom. He was just too smooth. Far beyond any man, you attempted a relationship previously. You wanted to think he respected you, but at the same time, waiting for much longer for him to make a move just felt like another eternity you lacked the patience and confidence to endure. So after a long night of overthinking and wondering how you could even go about bringing it up, you made a decision that when he got back home from his latest mission, you’d be the one to bring it up.

God your hands were sweating. He was supposed to have been home two hours ago and there was still no sign of his truck in the driveway or a single message from him on the phone you had gripped between your damp palms. Everything had been just fine all day, until the sun began to set over the hillside in the backyard, leaving you less than six hours away from John coming through the door. Worried didn’t even begin to explain how your stomach was tied in knots with a low burning fire in your throat. John had been nothing short of perfect -save for being gone so often- and you knew there wasn’t a single reason for you to be so overwhelmed at the mere thought of being an adult and asking him to have sex with you. Of course… You made up your mind to omit that you’d never done it before and just hoped the Captain would be too preoccupied with something else to notice.

Noticing the details quickly got turned around on you when the front door creaked open on its hinges and you hadn’t the slightest clue that John was standing halfway through the threshold with bags slung over his back and a small look of curiosity on his face. His pretty little thing, sitting on the couch with her arms wrapped around her bent knees and a deep stare somewhere far away from the both of them. He had to admit it wasn’t the first time he had caught you sitting with your eyes “comfortable” as you liked to call it; however, it was the first time he’d seen you wearing something quite that lacy for no damn good reason before.

Some kind of black, strappy, and frilly little number. It hardly left anything to the imagination, and John had to force himself not to go into deep thought about how you’d even got into the thing without instructions. It made your figure that much more eye-catching, and after staring at nothing but rain and mud for two weeks you were a sight for sore eyes. Even a Captain had to admit his biggest weaknesses to overcome himself and improve, but he wasn’t sure in that second if he could ever overcome -much less forget- how divine you looked. Honestly, he didn’t even know you owned it to begin with. But by the way, you kept spinning your phone in your hand, he had the vague gut feeling that you had something on your mind. A little more than dinner or fussing over the possible injuries he could’ve sustained while gone.

“Waiting on someone?” He asked lowly, trying his best not to startle you too much. Right away your eyes locked on his and widened. Almost like a little rabbit cornered by a fox and no hole to scurry into. He watched a flash of sudden panic overtake you and how quickly you reached for one of the throw blankets at the end of the couch to hide behind. Price chewed his tongue, forcing himself not to smirk at you at the moment. Wanting so badly to tease you a little bit for looking so sexy in that bodysuit, but acting nothing short of the little shy church girl getting kissed on the cheek for the first time.

“J-John,” Your voice sputters on his name a bit, forcing a smile to his face. He couldn’t help it after being away for this long without the chance to hear you even over the phone for a few minutes. “You’re home a little late.”

He nods, guilty. “Delayed flight. Weather kept us from movin’ out on time.”

Careful, he dropped his bags off at the front door without the slightest concern about how long they’d sit there. More important things were swirling around in his head. Trying to decipher if you were planning something and just backed out, or if you just needed a little bit of coaxing to not be so shy. Hostage negotiation wasn’t something he thought would ever come in handy when it came to interacting with you, yet John found himself rounding around the chairs on the other side of the living room from you, and planning each step he made to ensure he didn’t spook you. That lingerie wasn’t for nothing, and he desperately needed to know what you planned on doing with it.

He licked his lips, taking a steadying breath. “What’s under the blanket, sweetheart?”

You swallowed thickly, “N-nothing… I thought - I hoped it’d look nice,” Fumbling pathetically for an excuse, you finally spit one out all under the very soft and lightly amused eyes of one John Price. “It doesn’t fit.” The second it left your lips, you internally cursed yourself.

John’s eyebrows raised, instantly grabbing onto that loose thread and pulling on it. “I’m sure you’re wrong about that…” He came closer, standing just in front of you on the couch with his hands on his hips. “Come on, why don’t you let me have a look? I’ll give you a second opinion.” His words made your heart stutter, and you weakly shook your head in response.

“I should just return it.” You mutter, scooting over to the side of him and attempting to sneak off with your protective blanket.

You’re not even close to getting away from John when he chuckles, one arm curling around your shoulders and the other getting a firm grip on the material you’re hiding under. Naturally, you don’t exactly fight to get away. But a furious blush breaks out over your cheeks and neck, feeling the preverbal trap tightened around your throat. He’s turning around and sitting down on the couch with a nonnegotiable silent order for you to take a seat straddling his lap. That alone is enough to drive you up a wall with anxious feelings. Not that you’d never sat on his lap before -actually it was quite common- but under these circumstances, there was a lot more than just a little bit of heat passing between the both of you. Very slowly, John found the edge of the blanket and slipped a hand under, searching out for your skin and eventually landing on a little bit of the lacy material stretching in a high cut over your hip. You can actually see his eyes darken, tracing along the hemline and mentally picturing what was under his fingers. Touch alone was making you squirm, avoiding eye contact and trying to keep quiet so as not to embarrass yourself even more than you already felt.

“Oh, sweetheart… fits like a fuckin’ glove.” He whispers lowly, hand palming your asscheek and toying with the thin little string that disappeared into the cleft.

“It’d be a shame for you to get all dressed up… go through all this trouble… then not let me see your hard work.” His voice lulled slow and steady, swaying your fears just enough for you to feel your head nod up and down a couple of times before letting the blanket fall off your shoulders and pool on Price’s lap. The front of the bodysuit had been well-hidden up until now, with you sitting so lady-like in his lap. But the thin straps just crossing around your tits and holding them up without a single stitch of material covering them totally, John thought he’d been shot right through the chest. Between the innocent look in your eyes, and that damned outfit making you appear about as sinful as hell, he couldn’t keep from letting out a low growl and squeezing your ass just hard enough to make you gasp.

“This is what you were trying to hide?” His breathlessness couldn’t be masked, nor could the frequent shift in his eyes between your practically bare chest and eyes. John chuckled, hands drifting towards your hips and up to rest on each side of your ribs. Pushing your tits together just a little bit, almost bewitched by the sight of you like that on his lap. “Oh, you’re such a pretty girl…” He muttered, almost to himself.

Shifting in his lap, you tried to keep your growing arousal and nervousness under control. Each touch set you on fire, and with John moving this slow you couldn’t be sure you’d live long enough to see another day. It was too good feeling a man actually appreciated a woman in front of him. Not just finding the small bits and pieces he preferred and overlooking the rest. You knew being nervous was natural, but the more John rubbed and soothed, it was getting harder and harder not to whine or ask him for just a little bit more to satiate you. Right away, John’s eyes darted up to you, and something you couldn’t quite describe flashed through his eyes just long enough for him to lip his lips and sit up a little straighter, pulling you to sit straddling just one of his thighs.

“I think I know what you want, sweetheart.” He smiled so damn affectionately that it made your heart jump. “But just so I know… why don’t you go ahead and tell me, that way I don’t miss anything. I don’t like to disappoint.” Toying with the zipper of his sweater, you suck in a nervous breath to steady your nerves.

“I want you to, have sex with me.” You hardly whisper the second part, still drawing your own attention towards anything minute that could serve as a focal point with your body shaking so badly.

“Hmm…” His thoughtful hum sends shivers up your spine, and the feeling of his hands massaging your hips makes it hard to breathe. “So I was right,” A smile crosses his face. “Well then, how about you go ahead and take care of this.” He growls a little, his fingers slowly tracing over the barely-there strip of fabric covering your core, already soaking wet with your arousal. Your little moan slips out before you can even try to cover your mouth, and John’s fingers slip away like he was purposefully trying to be mean and deny you a taste of relief.

“John, please…” You whimper, hands resting on his shoulders hoping he’ll take mercy on you.

He just shifts down to rest against the couch a little more and bounces his knee a few times, sending jolts of extreme sensation right up your clit into your lower stomach. You didn’t get it at first… what he wanted you to do. But now you did, and John almost grinned when he saw the realization, followed by the shy look you gave him. Encouragement was needed, and he was more than happy to deliver. Slowly rocking your hips back and forth along his pants, purposefully having settled you on the side that his thigh-holster was strapped to, adding two extra ridges that instantly began working to overstimulate you. It was too good, and not enough. Pushing your inhibitions just a little further out of focus and forcing you to really focus on how nothing more than his thigh was getting you to a release quicker than any toy or trick you’d tried on yourself. Impeccable alone, it was his low voice right in your ear that made everything outside of John Price holding you on his lap disappear.

“Doin’ so good, sweetheart…”

“Making me feel bad for not helping sooner… If I would’ve known how needy you were.”

“That’s it, love. Keep going, want you to let go. Right on my lap, then I’ll take care of you.”

His lips suffocated your moans and whimpers, swallowing each little pleasure and claiming it as his own. John hadn’t taken his time like this in years, but damn it was special seeing you -his pretty little thing- so needy and whining his name. So sensitive to the texture of his cargos that he was actually wondering if you could withstand something more… purposeful. God, he hoped you could. He wanted to tase you so bad after feeling just how wet you were. Fuck, even the dark khaki color of his pants was getting darker with each little jerk and grind of your hips. Thighs twitching and clenching around him like you couldn’t get the right angle, and were slowly getting more pathetically and innocently frustrated. He needed you hungry though… wanted to ensure that this was done properly. And if it meant withholding from you just enough to make sure you were desperate, he’d bite back every urge he had to give you everything right away.

John knew right away that you were a virgin. Either by just his ability to read people or by the way that you didn’t particularly use sex appeal to draw him in right when you first met. You weren’t innocent of how you looked though, and always dressed and acted much to the benefit of being seen as the valuable woman Price always believed you to be. Yet it didn’t escape his curiosity as to how you’d been able to slip through the grasps of so many disrespectful and predatory men who would’ve done anything to have taken their chance at you. Fuck, he was thankful beyond belief. He hated thinking that you could’ve needed to experience pain or discomfort at any point… but he never asked you simply out of respect and the knowledge that at some point the topic would come up. Only, it didn’t come to fruition quite like he expected. In fact, he never imagined that you’d had your first orgasm with him riding his thigh while sitting on the couch in his house. He wouldn’t change it for a goddamn thing, though.

In the moment, he’d wanted nothing more than to hear you. After hearing so many little whines and pleas for his help, he knew you’d sound so beautiful. But his own intentions fell to desire when he crashed his lips to yours, taking those cries of pleasure for himself. There would be plenty more to come for him to bask in the sound of. The first one though? He needed it. It was his to taste and keep forever. Alongside the taste of your pleasure, he relished in your shaking legs and the harsh bite of your nails digging into his shoulders hard enough to feel through two shirts. He felt your desperation just as deeply as his own, and while his cock straining against his zipper was not totally lost to his attention, John could easily stave off his own needs to make sure you were satiated just as thoroughly as deserved for coming on his pants like the good little things you always were.

“Good girl… You did so good for me, sweetheart.” His rough voice rumbled against your ear as his kissed you softly.

Petting your hair and rubbing his other hand down your quivering thigh. As much as he wanted to keep you right here and not disturb your come-down, he wanted you in bed. Needed to see you laid out like he pictured when jerking his cock after weeks of pent-up stress needed a release. Fuck he wanted to take you slow in his bed and wake up in the morning with you wrapped around him and the smell of sex on the sheets. Before you could really even catch your breath, John had you spread out on the bed with him staring down at you almost astonished. You were just as affected, seeing the heavy outline of his dick parallel to his zipper and ending just at his belt. His eyes caught your lingering, and he chuckled, biting his tongue with his back teeth before squeezing himself and shrugging like it wasn’t the hottest thing you’d ever seen him do. The little gasp you let out only gave him that much more confidence to keep teasing you as much as he’d been.

Slowly, painfully, stripping off one piece of clothing at a time and letting it drop to the floor. Eyes locked on yours like he was getting off to how you reacted to each little inch of skin that was bared to you. If you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought he enjoyed all of the attention on him. When in reality, he was just mesmerized by how in awe you were of him, looking like a war-torn soldier with his scars and hardened body. You were holding your breath for the moment he pushed his underwear down off his hips, standing downright predatory with his fist tight around the base of his thick and glistening cock. If you ever had a moment of hesitation about doing this with John, they dissolved in that single moment. Because your next movement was to reach your hands out, wiggling your fingers for him to come closer.

“What would you like?” He asks, coming to stand at the foot of the bed just out of your reach.

“You.” You answer a little plainly, making him chuckle.

“Not quite specific enough, sweetheart.” His eyes drop to your body hugged in that black outfit and he bites at his cheek. “But as much as I love you in that, I’d like to see you take it off.” A very easy request. Had it not been for your inability to reach the little snap at the back that kept you tied into all of the lace and straps. So, you very politely raised up and sat on your knees with your back to John and gave him the sweetest look you could manage.

“Give me hand, Captain?”

He nearly ripped the fucking thing off.

The moment he had your seduction tactic of clothing balled up in his fist, he felt the first little surge of his common sense holding him back a little bit. Base instinct screamed for him to sink into you as quickly as possible. But feeling your hands rub over his chest and your shy little kisses to his neck reminded him of circumstance. Pinned against your belly, his cock twitched in response to your teeth grazing accidentally over his collarbone. You were about to whisper an apology when John wrapped a hand around your throat to tilt your head up and suck hard just under your jaw. He liked when you did that… The thought gave you a little bolt of satisfaction. One that progressed into your hands sliding down his stomach until your fingers curled around his thick shaft, earning a warning sound of a moan deep in his chest.

“So fuckin’ soft…” He murmured against your shoulder, kissing it hotly and slowly rocking his hips against your hands. Teasing himself. Edging closer to try and raise a little bit of resistance so he wouldn’t spill his load on the bed long before he was damn well ready. Your silky little hands spreading his arousal over his length only lasted for a few minutes before John was pulling you away with heaving breaths and a flush breaking out over his cheeks.

“Too much?” You ask a little giggly when he lays you back and crawls up to kneel between your spread legs.

His reaction is one of raised eyebrows and a devilish kind of smile that makes you feel like you just made a little too accurate of a joke to be laughing. John gives you a little warning ‘tsk tsk’, shaking his head like he could try and hide the lust and affection swirling in his dark eyes at the sight of you giggling, and all spread out for him like a five-course meal the Queen of England couldn’t afford to buy. A wiser man might’ve believed himself worthy of you, enough that his dirty hands could touch you and try to give you pleasure in the way they assumed to know best. Yet John leaned over you with the knowledge that he was one of the most unworthy men on the planet, and you had so much grace and love inside of you that it didn’t matter. One little touch and you could cleanse him of every blood stain he’d not been able to clean or sinful act of revenge he couldn’t resist committing. Above all else, you’d decided in all your innocence of the world that you trusted him with your body as much as you’d already handed over your heart and mind.

John kissed you. Hard. With everything he had to offer in return for the invaluable

With that, he’s, hauling you up against him. He wants you laying right on top of him so he can sleep soundly with you right against him. He’s very quick to give you more praise and ask again if you’re feeling okay mentally and physically. You mention feeling just a little insecure, despite all of his very purposeful care throughout the whole process, but Price won’t have it.

Right away he’s kissing you softly, hands rubbing over your back and butt affectionately. Letting you know just how special he feels that you trusted him, as well as just how lucky he was to find someone like you in the first place. Holding the back of your head and gently cradling you against his lips; Tongue licking into your mouth and groaning softly when you mirror his movements, even going far enough to nip at his tongue. Using that same little hint of him enjoying your teeth on him. Just like before, you’re met with another warning sound of a growl, and John is pulling back and moving his head between your legs with a careful watch on your reaction.

“Can’t wait any longer, sweetheart.” He kissed your inner thigh sweetly. “Please let me taste your sweet little pussy.”

His words shock your body, and your head falls back with the little bit of erotic pleads overwhelming you. God, it was making you drip onto the sheets feeling him so close yet waiting for your answer. Pathetically, you couldn’t get the word ‘yes’ out of your mouth for a few long minutes. Just enough time for him to lovingly suck bruises onto your inner thighs and mean you scream out his name, squirming under his hands to try and get some real relief.

John takes pity on you, stopping long enough to let you catch your breath. “Come on pretty girl. Just say the word… I’ll make you feel so fuckin’ good.”

“Yes, yes, yes… please. I need more!” Your airy pleas fall like angel’s trumpets on his ears, as his mouth descends hungrily onto your cunt.

Licking through your slick folds and growling your own name back against your core with the sweet and alkaline flavor. Your hips buck up and you cry out, feeling his tongue lash over your clit for the first time and right away he’s got one forearm over your hips to hold them steady with the other hand held tight with his fingers intertwined with yours. His mustache tickles against your skin and you can feel him resting his head against your thigh, almost like he’s getting comfortable for an extended stay with his tongue in your cunt.

Another orgasm is ripped from you without warning less than ten minutes into John’s unyielding assault on your sensitive clit. And it’s this time that John ensures your thighs can’t wrap around his head for the sole purpose of hearing your loud and raw scream of his name. Blissed out, and shaking once again, John smiles against your pussy; Lapping up any remaining release he’d missed mere seconds before and feeling the dull pressure of your heels digging into his back.

“God, you’re so good for me sweetheart,” His praise blows cool air over your folds and you jerk a little, whining when you feel his lips return back down to you. Slowly, teasingly, he began all over again just as he did the first time.

It takes a couple seconds for you to realize he doesn’t plan on stopping. But when you do, crying for him to stop when he begins using his thumb to tease your clit while his tongue fucks slowly in and out of your clenching hole. John almost laughs, darkly and amused with your little cries and moans. Feeding off of your pleasure just to give it right back to you in the direct motivation of making you come on his tongue and fingers this time.

“F-fuck - John! Sh-shit,” Your stuttered voice falls into an unabashed groan when he teases his finger at your entrance, and slowly slides it deep into your fluttering pussy, squeezing around it tightly. Hungry for more, and weeping with each small curl of the digit hitting on your upper wall.

Your eyes roll back, and you attempt to push John’s head back to try and ease the stimulation, just to feel his hand holding you back and in place. It’s maddening, feeling so good that it’s almost bringing tears to your eyes, having already come twice -more than you typically gave yourself- and no sign of him letting you escape.

God, John was pushing you to the boundary of everything you knew about your own body, as well as giving you the first, raw, experience of just how good sex could be. Lifting your head up just to try and get a small glance at him, you catch the sight of his eyes, fiery and intense looking right back up at you with your own come soaking his mustache and the entire lower half of his handsome face. You clench around his digit again, being pushed that much closer to the edge just at the visual alone.

Your third release came as quickly as the first two, this time resulting in the delicious stretch of John’s three fingers pumping in and out of your cunt, literally slurping up your release; Almost dragging it out of you like he couldn’t stand the thought of not swallowing every drop. He whispered your name so gently as he came to rest on his forearms overtop of you, kissing your forehead with his wet lips and feeling his hair stick against your sweaty forehead.

“Sweetheart…” his tone had softened to the smallest whisper you’d ever heard from him. “Are you sure you want this? We can stop here if you’d like.”

Opening your eyes to see his handsome face and the slight of his hair in a total mess, you knew getting away with not mentioning your lack of experience was impossible. Your John… wasn’t nearly as unobservant as you’d wanted him to be. Without more than a tired little smile, you nodded. Raising your head weakly just far enough to kiss him gently, tasting yourself against your lips and feeling the slight quiver of his breath.

“Please, I want this. I want you John.”

Initially, no matter how much he’d taken care to prep you there was still a deep stretch as his thick cock began slowly entering you. Sweetly, he worked you through each little discomfort, giving you kiss after kiss and running his hands through your hair. Distracting from the little sting that had never been present with your toys, and praising you until his hips pressed flush against yours.

“Fuucckkk yes,” Price couldn’t hold back the loud groan as he looked down to see your pretty little cunt taking every last inch of his dick and squeezing so hard he could barely think straight.

“Takin’ my cock so good… Such a pretty girl, my good little thing…” His murmurs and curses slowly devolved the further you progressed.

Your body slowly adjusted to the intrusion and the gentle thrusts John made the moment you began squirming and pleading with him to move through your little hiccups. The unusual feeling of John moving inside of you slowly began to coax moans and praise from your mouth every time the crown of his cock rubbed deep against a swollen, textured, spot inside of you that built up pressure so quickly that you needed to wrap your legs around his hips to keep them from shaking uncontrollably. Each stroke got harder and harder, with John eventually pounding his cock deep inside of you, moaning and using one arm to wrap around your waist to hold your lower body still so he could bring both of you closer.

“J-John…” Your voice jolted with each snap of his hips as you tried to warn him.

Feeling that familiar yet almost destructive power of another climax rushing through your lower body. Convinced you didn’t have enough left in you to come again, you felt tears pricking your eyes, overwhelmed with immense pleasure skyrocketing you towards a final orgasm you kept denying until John’s fingers reached between you and expertly began rubbing tight circles around your clit, violently tossing you into whited-out vision, and muted hearing.

Above you, John found his own release and shared it at the same time as yours. Fisting the bedsheets to keep from grabbing ahold of you too tightly and bruising you; his cock getting squeezed so tightly from your climax that it was almost painful to stay seated inside of you. With so little arm strength left, he fell nearly full-weight on top of you and only propped himself up by his elbows to keep from suffocating you.

Utterly wrecked, and feeling more than you’d ever experienced more than you’d felt in your life, it took minutes before you could open your eyes and actually have enough of the mental capacity to realize that John was gently stroking your head, kissing your forehead and your nose, and holding you tightly to him as the strong muscle jerks and twitches in your body began to die out.

“You here with me?” Low and comforting, you smile dazedly with your eyes heavy and trying to focus on him.

You merely nod your head yes and give what you assumed was a ‘mhmmm’ but might’ve sounded more like a small animal being choked or drowned. Naturally, John’s lips spread into a very happy and amused smile, cupping your cheek with his hand and pressing a kiss to your lips softly.

“Come on, sweetheart…” John whispered, pulling your head up to his chest and gently easing himself out of you with a low sigh.

You’re once again lifted up and whisked away, this time, into the bathroom just off to the side of the bedroom where John carefully sits you down on the edge of the bathtub and starts running hot water with the lights dimmed low. Certain he’s got everything for your bath within your reach and the water is high enough for you to really sink down into in and relax, he gives you a soft kiss and promises to return after just a couple minutes.

He returns before you even work up the desire to wash your hair, and immediately takes over the task of getting you cleaned up himself. In between the lulls of soaps, and conditioners, John will pose quiet questions, asking how you’re feeling and wanting to know if there was anything that hurt you physically or was bothering you mentally. His care was intense and very personal, giving you much more confidence and comfort after having such a draining experience. Of course, you felt fantastic throughout, but when he asked if you were tired, there was a feeling that he already knew you were and expected you to tell him how he could best support you.

Other than letting your head rest against his chest. Leaving not one inch of your body neglected, from your face to your feet. Throughout the process you watch through sleepy eyes, seeing a very peaceful sort of look on his face while soaping you up and helping you rinse off and step out of the slippery bathtub into a warm towel you could only assume he’d thrown in the dryer just for your comfort.

Holding the towel around yourself, you peck him on the lips and smile, too tired to really say anything of real value. However, you’re certain John understands by the way his arms wrap you up and hold you tight to his bare chest while running his fingers through your wet hair, helping get out some of the little tangles your conditioner couldn’t quite take care of alone.

“I love you, John. More than anything.”

He drops a kiss on top of your head, rocking your weights back and forth in the dimmed light of the bathroom. Admiring your little form in the darkened silhouette of his much larger one.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

“You’re my best friend.”

He chuckles, finding that so very endearing.

“You’re mine too.”

yeah... the "you're my best friend" part, me and my husband do that <3 so.... that's a thing.

#john price #captain john price #captain price #mwii #cod mwii #john price x reader #john price smut #captain price x reader #captain price smut #velvetures #velvetures writes #velvetures answers #cod #anon <3

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lady-pug · 4 months ago

Text

Written Between the Lines

Chapter II - We Shall Find Our Answers

Summary: You and your family return to King’s Landing after several years, and you are dreading having to face your uncle again. While you cannot change the past, maybe the lines on his palm can show some insight into your future. And maybe, just maybe, the future might be bright for the two of you.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Word count: 5,5k

Warnings: canon-typical incest (uncle-niece)

Notes: Pssst. Hey, you. I’m back. And I bring thee the continuation of this story, which I had a lot of fun writing. I intend on writing more for this little universe, so if you've liked this story so far, please consider staying tuned for more parts to come!

Just for clarification, I don’t understand much about the rules and laws of monarchy, but since this is my story and I’m already saying ‘screw canon’, we’re also gonna say ‘fuck tradition’ (and if any of the characters, especially Aemond, seem a bit ooc I deeply apologize, I’m just trying very hard to Bob-The-Builder the events of the show)

Also, I have purposefully left the question of the reader’s father somewhat ambiguous so there can be more leeway for the reader’s appearance to be undescribed.

Thank you so so much for reading and I hope you have enjoyed this story! <3

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It had been several years since you had last stepped foot in King’s Landing. Not since the death of your aunt and father. Or fathers. Which meant you hadn’t seen Aemond since that fateful night in Driftmark. You’d been by his side in an instant once Luke had shaken you awake wailing like a babe that he had done something terrible. You had held his hand as the maester tended to his wound, much to his mother’s grief. She had even tried pushing you away from her son, but his hand held tightly around yours prevented you from going too far. He had wanted, no, needed the comfort of your presence. But that all changed when Jace explained what had transpired, what he had called your younger brothers and, by extension, yourself. You had dropped his hand as if it burned, feeling more betrayed than ever, not missing the way your hurt was reflected in his own eyes. Well, eye. He had tried to talk to you after everyone had been excused but you fled from him, not wanting to face him just yet. Perhaps never again, you had thought at the time.

Now a grown woman, you returned to King’s Landing once more, summoned by the court for a hearing in which Ser Vaemond Velaryon intended to question Lucerys legitimacy as heir to Driftmark (which he was in for a surprise as your mother did not intend to pass Driftmark down to Luke, but to Jacaerys instead, as previously discussed and agreed with your grandparents, Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys, while she would name you, her firstborn, as heir to the Iron Throne after her). So it’s no surprise you were not looking forward to this visit at all.

While you had kept in contact with Helaena through exchanged ravens, you hadn’t once written to Aemond, nor had he done so to you. You were dreading the moment you had to see him again, as you didn’t know how he would react to seeing you after the way you left things off in the past. In reality… you missed him. You missed having someone to talk to, someone who truly cared about what you had to say, who shared similar interests to you and enjoyed the diverging ones all the same. You missed your study partner, as Jace’s high valyrian was incredibly subpar, leaving him far behind you in his studies. You simply missed having him.

The first moment you had laid eyes on him had been, unsurprisingly, in the courtyard. You’d been following after your brothers as they explored what had changed and what hadn’t around the Keep, trying to ensure they didn’t get into any trouble, when you noticed a small crowd forming around two men engaged in a heated training match. One was none other than Ser Criston Cole, who hadn’t aged a single day but looked like the stick up his ass had slipped even further in, and the other…

You couldn’t help but stare, oblivious to anything else around you. He had grown quite a lot in the years you’d been apart. He was taller, his shoulders pulled back and his head held high, no longer the timid, self-conscious boy you’d once known. Where Ser Criston was strong Aemond was fast, his tall frame and lithe shape allowing for a more fast paced combat, his movements sharp yet swift and even somewhat… graceful.

“You should clean up, right there.” you snapped out of your reverie, brought back to focus by your brother Jace, who motioned to the corner of his own mouth with a smirk hanging from his lips “You’re drooling.”

Feeling a warm flush on your cheeks you swiped the back of your hand across your mouth, finding nothing there, as Jace chuckled at your naivety and moved to join the crowd along with Luke.

Little cunt.

You followed after your brothers just as Aemond had his sword pointed right at Ser Criston’s neck. You couldn’t quite hear what they were saying, only catching the tail end of their conversation.

“Have you come to train?” he had been saying, his eye trained on Luke, some underlying darkness swirling in it, before his gaze finally met you and something shifted in it almost imperceptibly “Little niece.”

The way he said it, the use of the once mocking title, left you reeling. The tone he used made it so you couldn’t quite tell if he had been sneering at you or in awe at your presence, if he was jesting or quite serious, mocking or sincere.

But your musings were interrupted by the gates opening, Ser Vaemond walking in as if he owned the place. Or like he was owed something from this place. It seemed your dreaded reunion with your uncle would have to wait.

As much as you hated being back in King’s Landing you couldn’t deny this place did manage to keep you entertained. The hearing had gone as well as one could expect, with Ser Vaemond hurling one insult after another at both you, your brothers and your mother and ultimately losing his head for it. All was well with your family, Jace’s claim to Driftmark and his status as future Lord of the Tides and your own as heir to the Iron Throne after your mother had been reaffirmed by the King himself, backed by your grandmother.

During the whole hearing you couldn’t help but glance at Aemond from the corner of your eye every once in a while. He had a self-satisfied smirk plastered on his face all throughout Vaemond’s speech, the bastard, but once your mother mentioned her desire to establish you as her heir to the Throne something changed. His gaze met yours and his face softened, the smugness disappearing all together from his features.

It was the last you saw of him, having taken off to the courtyard to relish in the diminishing sun as it lowered in the sky by sitting under the weirwood tree. Jace and Luke were enjoying a stroll around the Keep with their respective betrotheds, occasionally passing by your peripheral vision.

“I thought I’d find you here.” a voice cut through the air, souring your mood.

“Have you come to question my legitimacy as well, uncle?” you asked Aemond, who stood in front of you with his hands behind his back, before nodding in your brother’s direction as they skirted the edge of the courtyard “Be careful not to speak too loudly, we wouldn’t want you to lose yet another eye, now, would we?”

The smallest twitch of his eye was the only indication that he was bothered by what you said. You knew it was low, and you did feel a twinge of guilt about it, but the hurt you’d been cultivating for him since that night was festering in your heart.

“Always the jester, little niece.” he smirked, taking a seat next to you, keeping you on his good eye’s side.

“Only for you.”

You both fell silent, the air around charged with years of tension built between the two of you.

“I haven’t heard from you in ages.” he spoke softly, facing forward.

“You didn’t write.” you jabbed.

“You didn’t either.”

He had you there.

“Helaena’s told me of your travels.” he tried again “You’ve visited quite a lot of places.”

“I wanted to see the realm.” you explained, feeling some of the tension dissipating as he extended an opportunity for you opened up “To learn the ways of the people we are to rule.”

He only hummed in response.

“And what about you?” you turned to him, noticing how his body seemed to instinctively turn towards you as well “How have you been faring?”

“Oh, you know.” he shrugged, nonchalantly “I have been busy, studying, training with a sword, as you’ve very well seen,” the smirk that formed on his face was enough to bring heat to your cheeks “and trying to stop Aegon from drowning in his cups every night.”

A giggle escaped from your lips, which in turn prompted a small grin from him. This moment, right here with him, felt like before; it felt freeing. The full weight of how much you had missed him hit you like a Vhagar-sized carriage.

A moment of silence passed before he turned somber again.

“My mother has deemed it time for me to find a wife.” he spoke slowly, his words making something twist painfully in your chest “She’s been trying to find matches for me in some of the noble houses. But none of the ladies in court will even look at me.”

He cast his gaze down and away from you, his stoic demeanor cracking for a moment and giving way to a forlorn expression. It seemed… awfully familiar to you.

“I frighten them. Not just them, the maids too.” his voice was soft, resignation dripping from his words, the prideful man you saw earlier in the yard taking a step back to allow the shy and insecure boy you once knew to make a reappearance “I think your lines have lied to you. No lady would ever want a one-eyed husband.”

“Aemond-”

“I told you once before, I don’t appreciate your pity, niece.” his tone hardened, but it lacked venom, meaning he wasn’t angry with you, rather upset at himself.

You could only wonder how much the events of that night had changed him, for better and worse. He might argue that he had claimed a dragon, the biggest in the world, so that made things even but you could only imagine the kind of pain, both physical and emotional, he had gone through since then.

“For what is worth” you started, raising a hand to his face very slowly, giving him more than enough time to halt your movements. He flinched at first but eventually relaxed, allowing you to lay your hand on his cheek, your thumb rubbing softly against the end of his scar “I am truly sorry for what happened that night. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

His hand raised, grasping your wrist and running his own thumb on the skin at the edge of your sleeve.

“What I said that night,” he closed his eye for a moment then looked at you again “it was unbefitting. I never meant to hurt you.” he paused, inhaling deeply before exhaling slowly, as if he was letting go of a lifetime of weight he’d been carrying “No more than I believe Lucerys meant to hurt me as badly as he did.”

It was an olive branch, you realized. Given how he now carried himself it was the closest thing to an apology you’d get. While he might not simply ever forgive your brother, he was willing to try and put it behind him, to let go of the pain, for you. And for that you’d forever be grateful to him. He tilted his head to the side, letting his lips linger on your palm for just a moment, before pulling your hand away from his face and carefully placing it on your lap again, both of you facing forward once more.

The silence that fell was not an uncomfortable one. It reminisced of the days you’d sit together in this same spot and wait for the servants to come fetch you when it was time for supper. But every nice moment had to be broken at some point.

“My grandsire and mother believe Aegon should be named my father’s heir.” he spoke after a moment, your head quickly snapping to look at him.

“What?”

“They believe that, as his firstborn son, he would have a better claim to the throne.” he glanced at you “That most lords would support him if it came to it.”

You were baffled by this revelation, even though you shouldn’t really be all that surprised. Otto Hightower was a cunt who would do anything in his power to have his own blood sit on the Iron Throne. As much as your mother resented her former friend you’d come to the conclusion that Otto had been the one responsible to sway Alicent against her. It shouldn’t come as a surprise he would be plotting against her. That’s why the man was smug about today’s hearing, and why his face promptly fell once Rhaenys made her support of Jacaerys, and by extension your mother, known. But…

“Why are you telling me this?” you questioned, confused as to why Aemond, the dutiful son, would tell on his family like that.

An amused grin, almost resembling a smirk, took over his features, his eye turned away from you.

“New information has come to light regarding the line of succession.”

Your heart clenched, a smile of your own appearing on your face. He recognized you as heir to the Throne, as a future queen.

His smile, however, slowly slipped from his face, leaving a sad look in its wake.

“What troubles you, uncle?” you asked.

“I just-” he sighed, almost exasperated “I just do not understand how they could possibly believe Aegon of all people fit to be king. He, who disappears every fortnight for the Street of Silk, who’s barely ever sober during the day. He, who has his way with the servants while his own wife exists silently, he who, dare I say, barely understands a word of high valyrian and the importance of our family to the realm.”

His rant left him slightly breathless, as if he had been suppressing those feelings for a very long time. And although he had not dared say it, you heard the hidden meaning behind his words. If he, now a grown man, was anything like he was as a boy, he was much more suited to be king than his brother was. He was probably well studied in both history and philosophy, he knew his way quite well around a sword, as you’d seen, and he’d kept up with his lessons in high valyrian, like you had. He would make for a fine king, if it weren’t for your mother and, eventually, you.

And then it hit you.

Otto Hightower would do anything in his power to have his own blood sit on the Iron Throne.

“Give me your hand.” you spoke firmly.

Aemond looked at you quizzically, taking too slow to comply so you forcefully grabbed his hand in yours, his palm facing upwards.

“Not this again.” he said, bemused.

As you ran your finger delicately over his palm, you took your time noticing the way calluses adorned the skin, once soft under your touch, probably from years of dragon riding and intense sword training.

“Your line of life is still quite long, good.” you heard his scoff, although it sounded quite like a barely contained laugh “It means the Stranger will not come for you for quite a while still.”

His eye was trained on you as traced another line on his hand.

“And your line of heart still tilts upwards, so you will marry a woman who loves you dearly.”

You spoke with so much conviction, squeezing his hand, your eyes finally glancing up, locked firmly onto his own as you said it.

“She’ll love and cherish you for everything that you are, unwaveringly and unapologetically. You’ll be hers as much as she’ll be yours.”

His eyes shone with barely contained hope, before you averted your gaze back to his palm.

“And here,” you pointed to a small line near the bottom of his palm “is the line of the king. It appears only on the hands of those who are destined to rule over the realm.”

His smile wavered, but didn’t falter.

“You are jesting again, niece.”

“I am not.” you shook your head, determined “The lines have never lied before, remember?” you mentioned, and he couldn’t argue with that, as the prediction you’d spoke of last time you found yourselves in this exact situation came true barely a few weeks afterwards “You will be king, Aemond.”

You stood up quickly, barely brushing the skirts of your dress as you did.

“I’ll make sure of it.”

You took off before he could question you, rushing out of the courtyard in search of your mother. You had a matter most important you needed to discuss with her, one you’d already brought up with her many moons ago, but which at the time felt more like a distant childish dream.

Aemond hadn’t spoken to you again until it was time for supper. He had caught a quick glimpse of you sometime after you left the courtyard, speaking in hushed whispers with your mother while Daemon looked thoroughly vexed. But before he could approach you and inquire about your sudden departure earlier, both you and your mother took off to one of your chambers, he assumed, leaving his uncle to stare murderously at him. While Aemond wasn’t frightened by Daemon, he would even go as far as to say he admired the man, something about the way he was staring at him deeply unsettled him, so he decided to leave and wait for a better opportunity to speak to you, alone.

Now, during what surely was to be one awkward meal, he could see you from the other side of the table where you sat next to Baela. You looked positively radiant, smiling with your step-sisters and occasionally jesting with your brothers. From time to time you’d catch his eye, your smile turning mirthful, as if you knew something he didn’t. More than once throughout the night he caught you and Rhaenyra sharing a small, quick nod to one another, and Daemon rolling his eyes whenever he also noticed it.

After King Viserys congratulated Jacaerys and Lucerys on their betrothals, Jace leaned over Baela and whispered something to you. While he looked sullen, Baela had a small understanding smile as you tried to sooth him. His face softened as you grasped his hands, trying to reassure him of something, Baela supporting you quietly. The overjoyed smile that took over your features as Jace nodded lit something in Aemond’s chest, his heart skipping a beat.

At a certain point, after the King’s speech and Rhaenyra and Alicent’s toasts, Aegon got up and leaned over to “whisper” something to Baela, catching the attention of all those around her. Aemond couldn’t hear what his brother said all the way from his side of the table, but whatever it was Jacaerys looked like he was about to drive a dagger through him. But you and your sharp words were quicker.

“At least he can stay sober long enough to get it up.” you spoke, your voice loud enough for the entire room to hear “Can Helaena say the same about you, uncle?”

Several reactions could be heard around the table. Helaena herself snorted into the wine she had been sipping, Daemon laughed loudly from his place at Rhaenyra’s side and even a small, tired chuckle could be heard leaving the King’s mouth. Aemond couldn’t help but smirk as his brother all but crumbled back in his seat, a frown unveiling his embarrassment.

Jace took his time toasting both his uncles but there was something… different in the way he addressed each of them. Whereas Aegon’s name was said with mocking admiration and contempt, Jace’s tone as he said Aemond’s name was laced with quiet resignation. And the tiny grin he directed at Aemond took him by surprise.

Helaena, a little bit tipsy at this hour, also took the opportunity to congratulate Rhaena and Baela in their betrothals, also taking a jab at Aegon’s already wounded pride. While he felt his chest fill with pride for his sister, Aemond couldn’t help but notice the moment you shared with your mother once again, the questioning look on her face and the determined nod you gave as answer to whatever question you found in the depth of her eyes.

“Speaking of marriage,” Rhaenyra started as she stood up and turned to face the seats of his father, mother and grandsire “my only daughter is now of marrying age as well.”

Aemond felt something twist painfully in his chest at the thought, turning his eye to glance at you and was surprised to find you already looking at him, the corners of your lips turned up in a soft grin.

“I would like to make a proposition.” your mother continued, turning to look at him, bringing his attention back to her. He felt his heartbeat increase as she stared at him for a moment longer, some heat climbing to his cheeks, before she turned to address his family once again, her eyes locked onto Alicent “I would like to propose we wed her to your second son, Prince Aemond.”

He barely registered anything else over the thunderous flow of blood against his eardrums, reflecting on the speed at which his traitorous heart was beating in his chest. He glanced back at you, watching as you smiled warmly at him. Something in him just felt right. He felt as if everything was falling into place within his life.

Aemond had never let himself want. He realized quite early in his life that he would only ever be the second son, and considering how much his father favored Rhaenyra over any other of his other children, he didn’t really matter much in comparison to his siblings. So he had learned never to wish for anything for himself, he had never dared hope that good things would come to him. And now here you were, the only one who has ever truly cared for him, offering something he never allowed himself to dream of.

“And” Rhaenyra continued, drawing his attention back to her. There was more? What else could she possibly offer that could be worth more than that? He allowed himself a quick glimpse at Daemon, who once again looked bothered by what she was about to say “once I have come to pass and it is time for her to take over as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, he would be crowned king alongside with her. He would be not a prince, nor king consort, but a true king. They would rule as equals, and eventually their children would sit in the Iron Throne after them.”

What?

As soon as the words were out of her mouth his mind simply ceased to work. They were thinking of… what? His head quickly snapped to look at his family, wanting to gauge their reactions as well and assess if they were just as confused as he felt.

His father was positively delighted at the prospect of uniting his fractured family once more. His mother, on the other hand, looked irked at Rhaenyra for having sprung this proposition in front of Viserys, as he’d obviously agree, and she wasn’t looking forward to having a possible bastard as her son’s wife (even if she knew he once cared deeply for you). And his grandsire… he looked conflicted. Otto Hightower wasn’t an easy man to read, but he had been so caught by surprise that he was wearing all his emotions on his sleeve. While he, like Alicent, seemed bothered by the timing of this proposal, he also looked… intrigued?

“We were thinking of passing Dragonstone down to Aegon and keeping both Aemond and my daughter here in King’s Landing so they can learn with me and the council the ways of ruling, so they are well prepared when it comes their time to rule.”

“And what of Lucerys?” Alicent questioned warily.

“He would live in Driftmark with Jace, learning the ways of salt and sea, in hopes of one day becoming my, and later his sister’s, Master of Ships.” Rhaenyra completed.

Silence ruled over the room for a moment, nobody daring to utter a word. Not even the servants, watching from the corners, made a single sound.

“And who was the one” Viserys spoke slowly, getting more tired as the night progressed “behind such a wonderful idea?”

“I-” your mother started, but Daemon quickly cut her off.

“The girl did.” he nodded his head towards you, a smug smile growing on his lips at the prospect of possibly throwing you under the carriage.

Aemond’s head snapped towards you, your smile never wavering. So that’s what you had been speaking to Rhaenyra all day. After your talk in the courtyard, you’d gone off to find your mother, to express your wishes not only to marry Aemond, but to also make him king. Just like the lines on his palm told you. But… why?

“And just what” Otto questioned, as if reading his grandson’s mind “has led the princess to decide to break hundreds of centuries of tradition and wish to share the Throne?”

Rhaenyra turned back to you, sending a silent question in your direction yet again. You shook your head and stood up, as if deciding to face the judgment of the Hightowers all by yourself.

“While my family has resided in Dragonstone for the past few years, my lord,” you started, an eloquence that indicated you’d been preparing, and maybe even rehearsing, this speech in your mind for a while “I have taken to flying around the realm on dragonback, visiting all of the Seven Kingdoms. I’d wished to see for myself and understand the people I’d one day rule over. However, being away from King’s Landing for so long also means I am not versed in the matters of court. Prince Aemond, on the other hand,” oh, how sweet your voice sounded when you said his name accompanied by his title “has lived his entire life here in the Red Keep. He’s been in these halls, around the lords and ladies of court, for quite a while and knows how such matters are supposed to work. I believe our knowledge combined will give us the strength, as a unity, required to rule over the realm together and establish a peaceful and prosperous reign.”

A sigh escaped your lips as you paused, your expression souring.

“And” you chuckled mirthlessly, your previously warm smile falling to a resigned one “I am a woman. The lords of the noble houses of Westeros may support my mother’s claim as they have sworn an oath to his grace, the King, but many of them are already of advanced age and may soon come to perish, some have already died even. While most of these houses are righteous and their sons and grandsons will likely honor their ancestors' wishes and support me as my mothers heir, there is no telling what will happen. They might not take kindly to yet another woman ruling over the realm, and especially one they didn’t technically agree on. So as much as I loathe to admit it, having a man by my side, supporting me as an equal, would strengthen my claim and prevent anyone from questioning me as queen.”

It made sense, all of it. Change as impactful as this tends to happen over time, not all at once, and it was known the men of the realm would not so easily accept a woman on the Iron Throne, something Aemond knew his grandsire was counting on to bring Aegon to power eventually, so it was a smart move to have a husband at your side. Your arguing was solid, and Otto Hightower seemed to agree as he reclined back on his seat, somewhat impressed.

Alicent, however, looked like she still wasn’t satisfied with your answer.

“And why would you wish to marry my son?” she questioned, her tone stern.

Your smile faltered briefly, betraying your confusion.

“Why, your grace, I believe I have already explained-”

“No,” she cut you off “you’ve explained why this union would be beneficial for you as a representative of the Crown. I want to know why you wish to marry him. You could have any man in the realm, hells, there have been rumors that Cregan Stark himself has requested an audience in Dragonstone, possibly to request a courtship for your hand.” That was before anyone knew Rhaenyra planned on making you her heir and it was believed you’d inherit nothing at all, Aemond caught himself thinking “So why do you want to marry Aemond?”

That had him leaning forward in his seat. He knew, logically, this marriage stemmed from convenience. He knew he, and you as well, were mere pawns in your family’s schemes. But he couldn’t help but wonder if there was something more behind your proposal. Even if it was just a political move, he would have accepted in a heartbeat but he dared to wish, no, hope that you actually wanted this, that you wanted him.

“I…” you fumbled for a moment, averting your gaze before steeling yourself, eyes locking with his mother’s once more “My uncle and I were close once, many years ago. We used to share a connection that has since been lost to time.”

You took a deep breath, as if preparing to reveal your deepest secrets to the whole family.

“I would like for us to get to know one another once more and go back to the way things were. Maybe even strengthen our bond.” you then turned to him, your eyes soft and warm and with the slightest of glimmer to them, as if you were willing yourself not to shed any tears “And I believe, with time, I could learn to love him dearly. I would love and cherish him for everything that he is, unwaveringly and unapologetically.” your lips trembled almost imperceptibly, so much so that had he not been paying close attention to you he’d have missed it “I’d be his as much as he’d be mine.”

Aemond felt his breath hitch, his heart hammering in his chest once more. He didn’t know what to think. This, right here, seemed so unreal. Deep down he knew this might just be the solution to everyone’s problems, it could be the very thing that mended the divide that had been growing inside of House Targaryen, but… could it be possible? Would his family agree?

“I believe this to be an amazing occasion.” the King spoke, looking happier than he’d been in a long while, before turning to his wife “Wouldn’t you agree?”

Alicent in turn looked to her father for answers and Aemond waited with bated breath for his response. Otto’s word was law in her eyes, Aemond knew, so he was the one who had final say in the matter. His answer came as a tiny nod and in that moment, as Aemond barely registered his mother’s next words, he had never been more grateful for his grandsire.

“I am inclined to agree that this will be a most blessed union.” Alicent said, her smile, always cold when it came to you, warming considerably.

“It’s settled then. Looks like we’ll have a wedding even sooner than expected.” Viserys then tapped his cane on the ground “Let us have some music.”

As the musicians started playing an animated melody, Aemond felt lighter than he had in years. He could hardly care for everyone around him, not even noticing anyone’s reaction to the news other than your own. With his eye focused solely on you he could see the relief settling in at his mother’s words as you beamed at him, more radiant than ever.

“Aemond, dear, why don’t you take your betrothed for a dance?”

He was out of his seat before Alicent could even finish her sentence, crossing the space between you in wide strides and extending a hand to you. You accepted gracefully. As you positioned yourselves to dance, you smiled bashfully at him, looking down at your feet, slightly embarrassed.

“I hope you can find it in you to forgive me for bringing this up all of a sudden, uncle.” you explained, looking back at him “I didn’t want to waste another moment and risk losing my chance.”

It was his turn to smile, not a smirk or a smug grin, a genuine smile.

“There is nothing to forgive, little niece.” the way he said the moniker this time, once used to mock you, was so filled with only affection and care that it almost brought tears to your eyes once again.

You danced for a few moments in silence, simply enjoying each other’s company. Then you leaned closer to him, as if wanting to share something privy to his ears alone.

“I told you once before, Aemond.” your smile turned into the tiniest of smirks “The lines don’t lie.”

His heart clenched at the memory, which seemed so distant yet so fresh in his mind. He tightened his grip around you, bringing your body even closer to his own, wanting to feel you close to him, genuinely happy for the first time in a long time.

“Indeed,” he whispered softly back to you, leaning his head against your own “I guess they truly don’t.”

And then everyone is happy, Rhaenyra and her family don’t leave for Dragonstone before dawn, meaning she’s there when Viserys goes to sleep forever, meaning she’s crowned Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, meaning the Greens don’t usurp the Throne, meaning the Dance never happened, meaning no one dies and everyone lives happily ever after, hurray!

(About Daemon's behavior, he’s not mad at reader or Rhaenyra, nor does he dislike reader in any way. He’s just resentful Rhaenyra hasn’t thought nor has she offered to what she does to Aemond in this story. And as we know, when these Targaryen boys are frustrated, they tend to lash out. Hope this clarifies some things!)

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#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x f!reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen x velaryon!reader #aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #aemond targaryen x niece!reader #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic

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