#it was humiliating for johanna | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

willyoubemycherryy · 4 months

Text

➯𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕨𝕖 𝕔𝕒𝕟 𝕘𝕠 𝕥𝕠 𝟝...𝕋𝕙𝕠𝕞𝕒𝕤 𝕎𝕖𝕓𝕓 𝕩 𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕪 𝕟𝕖𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕓𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕖𝕕 𝕘𝕚𝕣𝕝𝕗𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕕🎀

A/N: I don’t really have any direction for these two so anything after this will probably just be random idk I’m still deciding

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 >>> 𝕟𝕦𝕕𝕚𝕥𝕪, 𝕤𝕦𝕘𝕘𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤, 𝕤𝕞𝕠𝕠𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘, 𝕗𝕝𝕚𝕣𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘, 𝕪𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕚𝕥’𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕣, 𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕛𝕦𝕛𝕦𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥𝕓𝕖𝕒𝕥 𝕁𝕠𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕒 𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣, 𝕕𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕔 𝕓𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕤, 𝕗𝕝𝕦𝕗𝕗𝕪 𝕗𝕝𝕦𝕗𝕗, 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕚𝕤 𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕦𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕕𝕒 𝕔𝕦𝕥𝕖 𝕟𝕘𝕝 ^^ <𝟛𝟛𝟛

Mah sweetiebaes (っ˘з(˘⌣˘ )♡︎♥︎ @taylormarieee @luvlydeja @b1mb0slvt @missusnora @eleanorbaybars @eymie

.❣︎.

“𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑠𝑜 𝑐𝑟𝑎𝑧𝑦, 𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒 𝑔𝑒𝑡𝑠 ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐼 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑔𝑙𝑎𝑑𝑙𝑦 ℎ𝑖𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑜𝑎𝑑 𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑢𝑝 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑔𝑜 𝑖𝑓 𝐼 𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑤..𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑚𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑡𝑜 𝒚𝒐𝒖…”

“Don’t look at me”, you groaned as you rolled away to duck back under the blankets.

Embarrassed was an understatement.

The complete details of last night run through your head, making you flush. You could not believe all the ways he had you, made you beg for him, and even cry. If Thomas had asked you for anything crazy last night, you most likely did it and for less than a Scooby snack and that embarrassed you to no end.

On the bright side, you two are officially official. A smile creeps it’s way onto your face because yes he’s yours and you can’t wait for all the cute couple stuff you guys will do together.

….as soon as you move past your current humiliation of facing the man you slut out 4 times a few hours ago.

Huffing out a chuckle, Thomas tugs on the thick blanket hiding you. “Why don’t you want me see you?” Grinning down at your outline, he’s never felt better.

He likes you so much, and you like him back just as much and now you two were dating. You were stunning and charming and funny and you liked him. He was already in a fantastic mood when he woke up next to you, mussed hair with a peacefully sweet expression on your face while you slept. The date couldn’t have went better. You hadn’t left his side the entire night, interested solely in being with him and it such a dopamine rush. Unsurprisingly his father wasn’t fond of you just like John Cena (Johanna) who absolutely loathed you but unlike his mother who he knew would be pestering him about when she’d see more of you.

Then there was everything he did to you after and even before you’d left.

He felt his blood get hot as he remembered how good you were for him, melting like cotton candy under him but you tasted twice as sweet. He’d even managed to temper that mouth you always drove him crazy with.

Before he gets too lost in thought, the sound of you whining brings him back.

“Becauseee…”

“Because what?“ He had a feeling what it was but he’d drag it out to amuse himself.

“…you know.. you-“

“Me? What did I do that was so bad that you won’t even let me look at you?” Leaning down to whisper next to where your ear would be as he moves closer, voice low and flirty as he teased you. Your mouth drops open as you gasp. He was playing dirty.

Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of your embarrassment, you blurt it out.

“What did you do??? You literally gave me the prostitute treatment!” Thomas laughs at how indignant you sound while you continue.

“You even saw up both of my….holes-“ he cuts you off, grinning.

“Yeah but I did way more than just see, in fact-“

“WHAT EVER!!” You cut him off with a squeal before he can give you the explicit version from his side, kicking him through the cover as he laughs. The sound filling you with adoration as you smile before deciding to come out, whipping the cover over your head as you shift to sit crisscross, naked as the day you were born, facing him.

Hickeys of varying sizes, bite marks, and other marks were blossomed all over your body as Thomas loses his breath looking at you. You really were too pretty.

Leaning over, he kisses your pout. You kiss him back but your still a little miffed.

“If it helps, you’ve also seen me naked”, he says, trying to placate you.

Somehow that manages to make you frown deeper as you look at him.

“But you weren’t upside down naked.”

Well you had him there.

Pulling you into his lap, he smiles up at you sweetly, uttering a soft ‘true’ before peppering you with powder soft kisses. Running your fingers through his curls, you soak up his attentions with a delicate sigh.

The atmosphere was nothing short of dreamy and even time felt slower as you two enjoyed each other’s presence. There probably wasn’t a thing you could say you hated about him. He was just that lovely. Blue eyes, gentle hands, a wonderful smile, creative and sweet.

He made you feel like glitter in the air. Like yoga on a slow summer morning with a fresh mani pedi. Like smiling for no reason with the wind in your hair. He felt like all of those to you.

Wrapping you arms around his neck, you kiss his cheek and rest your forehead on his.

“You’re so handsome, Thomas”, you whisper against his lips. A blush creeps onto his cheeks as he whispers back. “That’s some high praise coming from Aphrodite herself. Thank you, goddess.” The tenderness in his voice makes your heart skip a beat as you look into his eyes, biting your lip.

Shifting atop him, you freeze when you feel that familiar hardness against your ass. Thomas is already two steps ahead of you as he tightens his arms around your waist, burying his face into your chest with a soft groan.

“T-Thomas..”

“I can’t help it with you”, he mumbles, turning his face up again, looking at you through half-lidded heart eyes. You find yourself capturing him in a languid kiss, your lips mold against each other and Thomas gets lost in the push and pull.

Biting his lip as you pull away, you want to go another round but refrain because you two have all day for that. So, feigning casualty, you move off him on shaky legs to grab a shirt and throw it on. Turning back to meet his dumbfounded look with a cheeky smile.

“So…breakfast?”

Thomas shakes his head, chuckling.

“Seriously?” He asks, eyebrows raised in amusement.

“Yes. I’m hungry and I wanna show you my fancy orange juice.”

Wow. How could he turn that down?

“Alright, I’ll bite. What are you making?” The way he’s looking at you makes you nervous but you ignore it in the name of playing nice.

“What do you want?”

The silence that came after your question had your nerves suddenly on edge as your boyfriend stared you down before beckoning you with two fingers.

“Come here”. He says lightly, and you, unsuspecting of foul play, move to stand between his legs.

Thomas waves you down so you nervously bend until his face is right in front of yours and he’s grinning all the while before he speaks.

“I want you.”

Dropping your head on his shoulder, you suck in a breath to not smile.

“You do have me”, you know that’s not what he meant but it’ll have to work.

“I don’t have you on top of my tongue though. I want that juice.” Gasping you push off him and bat his hands away. You bite your lip in an attempt to not smile but it doesn’t work as you grab his hands and try to pull him to his feet.

“Well you’ll have to wait because we’re getting breakfast-“, you cut him off when he goes to open his mouth, “the kind you CHEW you freak of nature!” You huff out as Thomas finally takes mercy on you and gets up, looking down at you fondly.

“Okay breakfast, but not in bed, it is. Lead the way angel.” Brushing your hair back, he drops his hand to your cheek then flicking the underside of your chin.

Fuck he’s hot.

Clearing your throat, you turn with his other hand in yours as you walk to the kitchen. Listing all the breakfast foods you know how to make, seating him at the island as you pour him some of your fancy orange juice. To him, you looked so cute as you gave him the full rundown of your hospitality while he sipped overdressed juice that came from a glass bottle.

“-actually everything I make tastes good”, you pause and look at him and smile when he’s already looking at you because of course he was.

“You’re definitely right about that”, he says with a teasing quirk of his eyebrow, smirking at the cute scandalized giggle you let out.

“Thomas-!”

Resting his head against his hand, he decides to be good.

“I’ll have whatever your having, pretty.”

Your cheeks start to feel warm at the look he levels you with so you turn to grab your ingredients and stuff before reaching over him to grab your phone to play music. The minute you decided on a song, a stinging slap to your ass stops you, the burn making your blood warm.

“Excuse you?“

Thomas nods at you with a smirk.

“Yes, pretty?” Biting the inside of your cheek, you snap back at him.

“Would you mind keeping your hands and feet inside the ride until I’m finished?”

“I’ll see what I can do”, he replies back without missing a beat and you grin at each other before continuing. Hitting play on your song as you begin to cook.

“We’re having breakfast sandwiches.” You announce, ignoring the way he watches your bare legs and everything else that peeks out underneath your oversized shirt, he hums.

“That’s perfect. You don’t have any plans today right?“ He asks because he doesn’t want to leave you and you feel the same.

“Nope”, you say. Popping the ‘P’ before asking if he needed to be anywhere else today.

“No, so you’re stuck with me.” He jokes and you laugh softly.

“Boy, aren’t you lucky?” And looking at you as you move around, happy and content, you seem to glow.

Sighing, he looks at you lovingly and whispers,

“Yes. I think I finally am…”

nobecausehesactuallymyman

♡︎ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ, ᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴀ ᴅᴏʟʟᴀʀ😌

#callum turner #callum turner x reader #the only living boy in new york #thomas webb #thomas webb x reader #callum turner fanfiction #callum turner smut #callum turner fluff #masters of the air #mota #x reader #fluff

140 notes · View notes

kining-the-evil · 1 year

Text

2023 Kinktober Masterlist

It is spooky time everyone! I'm super excited, this is my first big event as a writer, and I have been putting a lot of work into it! If everything goes right, a fic will be published one a day every day this month. This a mature event, so if you can't handle please don't interact.

⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙

Day 1- Cockwarming with Sam Carpenter

Day 2- Edging with James Wilson

Day 3- Knife Play with Tara Carpenter

Day 4-Phone Sex with Billy Loomis

Day 5- Mutual Masturbation with James Wilson

Day 6- Gagged with Finnick Odair

Day 7- Marking/Hickeys with Daisy Johnson

Day 8- Uniform with Bucky Barnes

Day 9-Dumbification with Jason Dean

Day 10- CNC with Stu Macher

Day 11- Thigh Riding with Kate Bishop

Day 12- Overstimulation with Greg House

Day 13- Dirty Talk with Valkyrie

Day 14- Bondage with Natasha Romanoff

Day 15- Ruined Orgasm- Johanna Mason

Day 16- Dacryphilia with Haymitch Abernathy

Day 17- Breeding with James Wilson

Day 18- Humiliation/Degration with Katniss Everdeen

Day 19- Gun Play with Jason Dean

Day 20- Praise with Peggy Carter

Day 21- Spit with Billy Loomis

Day 22- Sex Pollin with Leo Fitz

Day 23- Somnophilia with Loki

Day 24- Car sex with Daisy Johnson

Day 25- Mirror Sex with Randy Meeks

Day 26- Lactation with Dewey Riley

Day 27- Cum Play with Scott Lang

Day 28- Purity with Chad Meeks

Day 29- Pet Play with Stu Macher

Day 30- Double Penitration with Stucky

Day 31- Dry Humping with Randy Meeks

#scream #house md #agents of shield #scream x reader #house md x reader #agents of shield x reader #agent carter #agent carter x reader #the avengers x reader #the avengers #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games #heathers #heathers movie #heathers x reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kinktober masterlist

149 notes · View notes

valiantstarlights · 1 year

Text

[Personal Trainer!Dream AU] Chapter 2: (Much Ado About) Gym Clothes

Chapter 1: First Meeting

This is still for @sadrumihours , who shared Tom Sturridge's highly educational 😏 training videos (part one & part two), as well as everyone who yelled in the comments and reblog tags. I see you all and I love each and every one of you. 🖤

Disclaimer: These are once again just vibes because I still don't know a single thing about gym stuff. Will someone please tell me what the equipment Tom is using called? Because I'm still calling it stretchy jump rope machine in my head. 😭

CW (and summary): Dream being his usual thirsty-for-Hob self, Hob being insecure about his body, and Johanna trying to be a supportive sister to Hob. (Keyword being: 'trying.') This chapter contains spicy spice! Enjoy? 😏

Mojo Jojo

Jo, what do I wear to the gym???

uh, gym clothes?

(You sent a photo.)

Is this okay??

i guess?

why are you being weird?

you're just going to the gym, not going on a date

WAIT, ARE YOU???

HOBERT

answer me or i'm gonna come over and steal all your teeth

I bought pizza since I know you're coming over from your shoot anyway

fine

you can keep both your secrets and your teeth for one more day

"That's it, Professor," Mr. Endless--Dream, says next to his ear, low and inviting. His hands are cool as they caress Hob's overheated and very sensitive inner thighs, and his eyes, so dark and so close to Hob's own, are laser-focused on his panting, straining face. "One more. Just one more for me."

Hob's cheeks are already streaked with tears. How many hours has it been? How much more until they're done? Until he's told that he's been good? "Mr. Endless, please--"

Dream has moved to inspect his position. He adjusts Hob's legs so they spread even wider. The change in angle makes him sob, but Dream shushes him and he leans all the way down to lick at his rim.

Hob wails, body jolting against the restraints. His muscles are already so sore, but he wants to be good.

"You can do it, Professor," Dream says, lightly tapping at his taint to encourage his muscles to clench. "This is the last one."

Hob cries and wiggles, breathes slowly and purposefully like how he has been taught, and forcibly relaxes his muscles one by one, until finally, finally, he manages to push out the last large anal egg from his body with a soft moan.

It plops wetly onto Dream's waiting hand, and the man hums approvingly as Hob's hole gapes for a second before winking closed again.

"Very good," Dream purrs against his rim and dips his tongue into Hob's loosened hole. Hob keens and thrashes against his bonds again. It was so humiliating, but he loves every second of it. He can feel his body slowly becoming stronger, and he owes it all to Dream.

"You see what you can do?" Dream asks, now inserting his long, clever fingers inside him. "What your body can achieve with my guidance?" He moves his fingers in and out slowly, the squelch of the remaining lube loud in the room. "I'm so proud of you, Professor. Only a few sessions in and you're already my beautiful, obedient little slut." He emphasizes his words by drilling his fingers unerringly against Hob's prostate. Hob cries and bucks up, helpless and overwhelmed, unable to do anything else with how good he had been tied up.

"Please, Mr. Endless--"

"Mr. Endless?" Dream repeats. "You have to be specific, Professor Gadling. Are you calling for my brother?"

Hob shakes his head wildly. "No. No, please. I mean you. Just you, sir, no one else. You know that."

Dream rewards him with a soft kiss against the head of his cock. "And what's my name, Professor?" he asks. "What's the name that you'll be screaming in ecstasy for the rest of your life?"

"D-Dream," Hob gasps. "Dream--"

"Good boy," Dream says, and returns to his hole to suck hickeys around the rim. Hob hopes he bruises well. He hopes he'll feel all the love bites Dream gives him every time he sits down. "Shall I give you your reward now?"

Hob remembers last time, when his reward was Dream spanking his hole directly until it was red and puffy, and then fucking him that way, all the while praising him for being so virgin tight.

"Yes, please," Hob says, voice cracking a little. He wants to move. He wants to wrap his arms around Dream and kiss him softly while they fuck. He wants to be called sweet and good and mine.

But in the end, Dream is still his trainer, and he knows Hob's body best. He knows Hob's body better than Hob himself, now. And if he tells Hob he has to wear a vibrating plug while he uses the stationary bike, then he will.

He'll cry and stumble and cum in his underwear countless times, and Dream will coo and kiss his tears away, but he'll do it. Has done it. It had increased his stamina exponentially.

"Very well," Dream says. He leans over Hob so they could share a kiss while he lines his cock up against Hob's waiting hole. "You have been so good for me today, and I think that means you deserve a treat, yes?"

Hob nods, biting his lip at the incredible pressure as the head of Dream's large cock pushes against his rim--

Hob's alarm blares at max volume, and he jolts awake, blindly reaching for his phone to turn it off.

It takes him a few seconds, and once that's done, he's awake enough to notice the sticky feeling in his underwear. He moves the covers aside and peeks inside his boxers.

...Great. Not only did he have an incredibly realistic wet dream (ha) starring his personal trainer, but he's also currently sporting a semi.

Thank goodness he set his alarm hours before he has to go to the gym. He still has time to do some...preliminary stretching.

He blushes as he grabs his favorite dildo, which he had placed conveniently beside his pillow last night, as well as the bottle of lube beside it.

He's already ashamed of himself for thinking about Mr. Endless in such a manner, but try as he might, he can't conjure up the image of another person. Not since he met him.

Oh, he tried thinking about previous people he had a crush on, real and fictional, as well as local and international celebrities: actors and idols and athletes--to no avail. They always turn into Dream Endless in the end, looking down at him as they fuck in a variety of positions, usually missionary because Hob is a dumb romantic at heart, his gorgeous blue eyes loving and captivated, his lips forming 'Professor Gadling' or 'Hob' over and over again, his voice soft with awe and reverence.

It never fails to bring Hob to completion faster than he ever had before, when he had yet to be blessed about the knowledge of Dream Endless's existence. It was mortifying. His imagined scenarios always leave him whining and pressing his face against his pillow so he doesn't scream Mr. Endless's name out loud for the entire neighborhood to hear.

He knows it's pathetic, because it's not like Mr. Endless is going to look at him that way in real life. But if he's sad about it, crying a little like a lovesick fool after he cums, then that's his business and no one ever needs to know.

Boss Dream's newest trainee walks in the gym dressed in a thick hoodie and joggers, and Matthew starts sweating bullets just by looking at him. Is he going snowboarding with Boss Dream or something?

Nope. None of his business. Better just focus on getting the damn blender working.

"Good morning, Mr. Endless!" Professor Gadling says cheerfully as he rounds the corner to where Dream is waiting. "I hope it's alright that I'm a bit early today. I had to make up for last time."

He's an entire 15 minutes early, but Dream won't say no to spending more time with him. He had been reviewing today's agenda, but had turned around as soon as he heard Professor Gadling's voice. And he was just about to greet him back, when his eyes lift from the clipboard he's holding, and the smile falters in his face as he takes in what the man is wearing.

Dream had indicated in his email that they were going to do some mandatory stretches, and after that proceed to doing a full-body pre-test workout that would measure the professor's strength, endurance level, general dexterity, etc. It was important that they do this on the first session so that Dream could come up with a program specifically tailored for him and his end goal.

It was his mistake in assuming that Professor Gadling would do the sensible thing and wear something light. Not winter clothes in the middle of summer.

"Good morning, Professor Gadling," he says, as neutrally as he can manage. "You are dressed quite warmly."

Professor Gadling grimaces. "Oh. Well um, I'm afraid I don't really have gym clothes, and I haven't had the chance to buy some yet since, you know, school. And everything else I own are dress shirts and slacks and lounge wear. But don't worry! I'll go shopping this weekend." He pauses and smiles bashfully. It was just as devastating as Dream remembered. "Sorry. I'm talking too much again."

Meanwhile, Dream's mind had latched on to the words 'lounge wear,' and he imagines Professor Gadling casually walking around his house in nothing but short pajama bottoms.

"I see," he says, glad that he took the time this morning to get himself off so he won't be as tempted to push Professor Gadling against the nearest surface and really give him a full body workout. "Then please, if at any point you wish to take off a layer, feel free to do so."

"Oh, no," Professor Gadling says, still cheerfully. "I'm fine like this. Shall we begin?"

There's still a few minutes before they officially have to start, but Professor Gadling seems to want to begin immediately, so Dream nods and instructs him to stand with his feet shoulder width apart, and gets him to start stretching his upper body.

Professor Gadling obeys, following Dream's example as he demonstrates the set, counting to eight, then back to one again under his breath, before doing the next set without complaint.

Dream watches him closely, because he has to. It's why he notices that the professor's thick hoodie barely shifts, even as the man raises his hands upwards towards the ceiling and counts to 16.

A dark thought crosses Dream's mind then, that perhaps the reason Professor Gadling is wearing clothes that cover his entire body is because he's currently covered in love bites.

Dream clenches his teeth but breathes through it. He knows he's being possessive when he has no right to be, and that Professor Gadling has every right to sleep with whoever he wants.

But knowing these facts and acknowledging them to be logical and true does not stop Dream from hating whoever it was that is currently enjoying Professor Gadling's gorgeous body in bed, perhaps repeatedly throughout the night.

He wants to be that person. He will be that person. He is already fated to be that person.

If his brother Destiny is right about one thing, Dream fucking hopes that it's the power of manifestation, because he doesn't think he would just allow Professor Gadling to end up with someone else without challenging that person to a fight.

Mr. Endless is wearing a tight, sleeveless black shirt and slightly baggy joggers, and Hob is losing his mind. Has lost his mind as soon as he spotted the man a couple of minutes ago, standing by the large glass windows and reading something on his clipboard.

The sight of his toned arms are bad for Hob's concentration. And it's even worse when he circles Hob like a very observant vulture to check his position (just like in his dream) and bids him to raise his arms higher, or at one point, bend a little more to the right.

Hob can't bend as much as he used to in his twenties, but he is very determined to be super flexible at the end of this.

For health reasons, of course.

Mr. Endless demonstrates another pose to stretch the arm muscles, and in doing so calls Hob's attention to how his muscles bunch and flex. Hob is sure that they're far stronger than they look, and he has no doubt that Mr. Endless can carry heavy grocery bags without breaking a sweat.

Hob gets so far as picturing Mr. Endless's hands squeezing his thighs before he immediately shuts the thought down.

No. Absolutely not. And his previous thought about being flexible, too. Mr. Endless would be horrified, if not outright disgusted if he finds out that Hob is thinking about him in that manner.

Professor Gadling continues to obediently follow his orders, getting on the treadmill, walking, jogging, then running, complying as soon as Dream warns him about changing the treadmill's speed, and he does so without a single word of complaint.

Dream could not help but compare him to his past trainees, all of whom had complained on their first session about wanting to go straight to the workouts that would help them achieve their ideal body shape. But not Professor Gadling. He would listen and watch Dream's demonstration well, then immediately obey his orders or mimick his movements. Dream has to bite his tongue multiple times so he wouldn't slip up and say, 'good boy.'

Or worse, 'my good boy.'

Death is going to have Destruction break his spine if, out of all siblings, a sexual harassment complaint would be filed against him and not, say, Desire, who regularly flirts with their own trainees.

Cardio pre-test finished, Dream leads Professor Gadling to the weightlifting area, and once there, bids him to take 2 dumbbells that weighs 1 kilogram each, and do 16 squats while holding the weights.

While Professor Gadling gets the appropriate equipment from the rack, Dream lets his mind wander. Would Professor Gadling be obedient in bed, too? Or would he be a brat? Will Dream have to tame him, or is he already sweet and docile?

Dream imagines that the latter to be more likely, though he wouldn't mind if his lovely professor turns out to be an incorrigible brat in bed. He'll just have to spank him until he's pliant and good enough to deserve his treats.

Fuck. He's teaching. He should be more professional than this.

"Like this, Mr. Endless?"

Dream snaps from his ill-timed daydreams to scrutinize Professor Gadling's form, only to then hold back a lustful groan.

The man is squatting alright, but he's doing so improperly. His heels should be flat against the floor, but instead his thighs and calves are touching, and he's so low that he's almost kneeling on the floor.

Dream has an errant thought that Professor Gadling is being seductive on purpose, except one look at his genuinely unsure expression proves Dream wrong.

Definitely sweet and docile in bed.

Dream wants to eat him alive.

Were this a porno, Dream would tell him that he's doing a terrific job, and if he could please thrust his chest out more so Dream could admire them better. But since he's an actual trainer with the thinnest veneer of professionalism left, he bids Professor Gadling to stand up and instructs him on how to squat properly.

Except, of course, his improved and now very proper form isn't making Dream feel any better, as Professor Gadling now had his ass thrust out instead of his chest, and has to repeat the motion 15 more times.

Dream gets his bottle of vitamin water and drinks deeply, hoping to cool himself down enough to banish his lecherous thoughts.

It doesn't work.

Hob sees from the corner of his eye Mr. Endless drink from his water bottle and immediately looks away. He's glad he's already red from exercising.

When Mr. Endless corrected his squat earlier, he did so by placing a hand gently against Hob's lower back to guide him, and Hob barely bit back a moan from how good a simple, innocent touch from him felt, even through his thick hoodie.

He feels like such a shameless pervert.

Once the assessment is (finally) over, Dream praises Professor Gadling for a job well done, valiantly ignores the shy, pleased look on the man's face, and instead goes on to tell him that he's doing okay overall, but needs more work in certain areas.

Dream does not specify which ones, telling him that he still needs to study the data and compile them together before emailing the whole thing to him.

In truth, Dream does not trust himself to look straight into Professor Gadling's lovely dark brown eyes and say words like 'stamina' and 'flexibility' without exposing the level of hunger he's currently feeling for him.

So yes. Dream will email him his pre-test results later, but he does not tell him that he will only do so after a good long wank.

Professor Gadling, totally unaware of his inner turmoil, only nods understandably, and agrees to read Dream's email as soon as his schedule allows him to. He must be sweating like crazy underneath his get-up, but his choice of clothes show no evidence of it.

Dream worries, and his mouth opens before he can stop it. "Professor Gadling," he says, just as the man had turned away to go to the nearby drinking fountains.

"Yes, Mr. Endless?"

Dream doesn't want to keep him any longer from the fountains than he has to. But next time, he's going to make sure to bring an extra bottle of vitamin water for him, so he could take a sip anytime without going all the way across the room and falling in line.

Dream is also going to be mature about not staring at his throat while he drinks. "When you go shopping for gym clothes, you may want to consider buying lighter fabrics."

"Oh, no, I'm absolutely fine with these," Professor Gadling says, and sounds sincere about it that Dream drops the subject.

"Very well," he says. He will not force him. Professor Gadling's comfort is paramount. If that means that Dream would have to adjust their lesson plans to include more water breaks, then that's what he'll do. "I shall see you next session."

He turns away before he could be tempted to watch Professor Gadling go. He does not think about the possibility that the hoodie might actually belong to Professor Gadling's boyfriend, who is probably waiting for him to get back home, and very eager to get him back in bed.

He has no right to be jealous.

Hob opens his gym bag and starts to take out his clean change of clothes when the texture of the shirt made him pause.

That's not the shirt he folded last night.

He takes the folded black shirt out, wonders at its suddenly lighter weight, then shakes it open to see if he had mistakenly folded another shirt.

As soon as the garment is revealed, however, he shoves it back in his bag, then shakes the accompanying bottom garment open. When that was revealed, he also shoves it back in the bag.

Then, slowly and mindfully, he breathes for a solid minute before he takes out his phone and texts his sister.

Mojo Jojo

Jo what the hell

what

(You sent a photo.)

Why are your gym clothes in my bag???

they're not mine stupid

i had ric buy them yesterday specifically for you

?????

for your ~mysterious~ gym crush to notice you (u///u)❤️

anyway don't worry and just wear them

they'll fit you

That's not the point!

A crop top and booty shorts???

you're right. the booty shorts are fine, but the crop top is too plain.

i should have told ric to pick the other one that says 'daddy's little fuck toy' 😂

JOHANNA CONSTANTINE-GADLING

pfft coward

i'm gonna tell ric to go back to the store and buy the fuck toy crop top

oops the director is shouting at me to get in place bye gtg

Hob is typing another scathing reply in all caps when he hears footsteps stop a short distance from him.

"Professor Gadling?"

Great. The last person in the world he wanted to see right at this very moment.

Hob smiles awkwardly and stows his phone back in his bag. "Mr. Endless."

"Is everything alright?"

Right. Shit. He hasn't even showered yet. He's probably stinking up the place and being a nuisance near the lockers.

"Everything's fine," Hob says, waving the man's concern away. "Just. Sisters being sisters. With their weird and very inappropriate sense of humor."

Someday, he'll learn how to shut his big mouth and stop at 'everything's fine.'

"I'm sure all sisters suffer from having a weird sense of humor," Mr. Endless says politely. "May I ask what your sister has done?"

Hob sighs deeply and zips his bag closed. It's fine. He'll just go shower at home. And anyway, it's not like he has to take the Tube and subject everyone to his sweaty self after a workout. Thank god he drove here. "Better not. If even I, as her brother, didn't find it funny, I very much doubt that you will."

"And yet you remain troubled," Mr. Endless says, and now his brows are furrowed in concern. "Please. I know this is not any of my business, but I would like to help you, if I can."

The fact that Mr. Endless looks very sincere makes Hob want to cry.

And he knows he shouldn't show him. He knows that Mr. Endless should be the last person in the world Hob should show these to. But he figures, what the hell. He could just quit via email as soon as he gets home and never have cause to see Mr. Endless or be seen in the vicinity of Endless Gym ever again.

Maybe it would even be for the best if he did that. Then he would stop having all these unsavory thoughts about him while the man is only trying to do his job.

He sighs and opens his bag once more, tilting it a little so Mr. Endless could see its contents. "My sister swapped my clean change of clothes for these."

Mr. Endless looks inside, and Hob can just see in his mind's eye what the other man saw: an extremely short, short-sleeved, solid black crop top with a deep V-neck that would barely cover Hob's chest area, and slutty black booty shorts with the phrase, 'SQUEEZE ME' printed on the butt area, complete with a cute yellow lemon emoji.

Although to be fair, 'crop top' is a generous term to use for the upper garment in the bag. It's too small and resembles a short-sleeved bra more than a crop top. From a single glance, Hob knows that even if it did fit him, it would be so tight that it would force his pecs to form a cleavage and leave his underboobs exposed.

He cringed internally at the image that would make, and could only imagine the utter revulsion Mr. Endless is feeling right now.

Dream had leaned over to inspect the contents of Professor Gadling's bag, expecting everything from a shark onesie to a clown suit.

Instead he sees further fuel for his already full folder of Professor Gadling-centric fantasies.

He could just imagine the crop top and the booty shorts on the man, and how he'd look like exercising while wearing them.

He had half a mind to ask for his sister's number so he could personally extend his gratitude to her, but doesn't dare to, in case Professor Gadling gets the wrong idea.

He inhales slowly and leans away, placing his hands neatly behind his back so Professor Gadling would not be in danger of being pushed against the lockers and fucked within an inch of his life. Dream did not fail to notice the distinct lack of underwear among the clean change of clothes, and now his mind is working overtime imagining himself standing behind Professor Gadling as he runs on the treadmill, the tiny shorts and the lack of proper underwear leaving nothing to the imagination. Imagines pressing himself against the professor's sweaty back after, the man still panting and out of breath, and pulling down his cute little shorts to jerk him off as a reward for a job well done.

"I see your dilemma," Dream says calmly, like this is an incident that happens every so often and not a cause for alarm or humiliation. "Fortunately, we have a stock of clean clothes in the staff locker room, in case staff members need to change for some reason or another. If you could please stay here for a while, I'm going to get you a clean change of clothes with more coverage."

Yes. It is imperative that he provides Professor Gadling with more conservative clothing than the ones currently in his bag. Otherwise, other people would see and covet what Dream has already envisioned as his. And that will definitely not do.

"Oh," Professor Gadling says, looking incredibly moved by his words. He's probably thinking how kind Dream is, while Dream is still thinking about how easy it would be to fuck his thighs after jerking him off, using the man's own cum as lube. How he would then make an even bigger mess of him and not clean him up after. That way, everyone would know that Professor Gadling is Dream's and Dream's only. "Are you sure? I don't want to trouble you unnecessarily."

"It's no problem at all," Dream says. In his mind, he imagines the man's thighs covered in both their cum, and Professor Gadling scooping some of it up and sucking on his fingers, curious as to what their mixed spend would taste like. "I have also been at the receiving end of a couple of my siblings' pranks, and would not wish another to suffer similarly." When Professor Gadling opened his mouth, possibly to protest, Dream holds up a hand and adds, "Please. I insist."

"Oh. Well then...thank you, Mr. Endless," Professor Gadling says, his dark brown eyes sparkling like precious gems in his gratefulness. Dream wants to kiss him all over. "You're a lifesaver."

Dream speedwalks to the staff locker room, checks to see if the coast is clear, immediately locks himself in a stall, drops his joggers and underwear, and starts jerking himself off furiously.

He barely even had to spit on his palm for lubrication, and he knows it wouldn't take long. He's already so aroused.

He has to do this.

If he doesn't, then Professor Gadling would be in an even greater danger when Dream hands him his clean (and much more conservative) change of clothes, and gets to be on the receiving end of his shy gratitude.

He imagines Professor Gadling, usually so buttoned up, only wearing that infernal crop top and booty shorts in Dream's favorite color, with those taunting fucking words--

"There's a good boy," his imagined self says to a kneeling Professor Gadling, who is pressing his tits closer together to create a valley where Dream could rut his cock against.

"I could...squeeze them even tighter, if you want?" his imagined Professor Gadling says, maintaining his naive, unsure aura about him even as his lips are slick and red from sucking on Dream's cock. "I want you to feel good, Mr. Endless."

Dream cums at the thought of marking Professor Gadling's face and hairy tits with his seed, and him shyly licking his lips for a taste of Dream's cum, moaning in delight when he finds Dream's spend to be thick and delicious. Dream is going to eat more pineapples, just for him. He's going to make Professor Gadling addicted to the taste of his cum that no other cum would do.

"Thank you for lending me your clothes, Mr. Endless," he would say, because he's polite like that. He would lean forward to milk Dream's cock more, making sure to get every last drop, before making a show of swallowing everything down, save for the cum marking him as Dream's. "And for the really tasty post-workout treat."

Mr. Endless looks a little flushed when he returns. However, judging by how far the staff locker room is from the gym goer's lockers that was out in the open (possibly to prevent theft and sexual harassment), as well as any additional effort he may have made in finding clean clothes that are in Hob's size, Hob thinks he got back pretty quickly.

The sight of him slightly flushed makes Hob think naughty thoughts though, which he quickly dispels from his mind. He doesn't have the right to think about Mr. Endless like that, especially after the man went through all this trouble just so Hob would feel comfortable going home.

Still. He wonders what would have happened if he had both the courage and the confidence to wear the clothes Jo bought for him.

Would Mr. Endless...

He viciously cuts the thought off before it could fully form. No. Absolutely not.

Mr. Endless would have felt nauseous at seeing his rolls and body hair and just...general unattractiveness. Hob wouldn't need to email him about quitting because the man himself would drop him as soon as he could, like a hot (temperature-wise) and very unappealing potato.

"Here," Dream says as he hands Professor Gadling a set of clean clothes. In the bundle is a black shirt, a black letterman jacket with the number 03 on it, and black joggers. All of them belong to Dream, and everyone, especially his siblings and the rest of the staff, is going to know that these are his clothes as soon as they see the number 03. "You will have to go commando, but it's definitely preferable to what your sister intended for you to wear."

Professor Gadling looks so grateful and Dream wants to mark him up, this time with his own teeth. Let everyone see Professor Gadling wearing his clothes and his teeth marks, even his boyfriend who lent him this hoodie, whoever he is. "Thank you so much," he says. "And yes. Lord knows I shouldn't subject anyone to the sight of me in that. I'll drive all the gym goers away and then Endless Gym would have to close."

Dream really, absolutely hates how Professor Gadling thinks of himself as unattractive. Is it because his boyfriend tells him that? Is that why Professor Gadling signed up for training in the first place?

Well, whoever he is, he better be prepared because Dream is ready and raring to beat him into a pulp the moment Professor Gadling even implies that his lack of self-esteem is caused by his boyfriend spouting lies about his beautiful body.

Were Dream allowed to freely speak his mind, he would say that if Professor Gadling did don the clothes his sister intended for him to wear, he would no doubt cause multiple accidents due to gym goers losing their concentration: dropping weights on their feet and tripping on the treadmills, not to mention the injuries he would cause in the future, when Dream would casually arrange little minor accidents to those he caught drooling at his lovely future boyfriend.

But because he is still Professor Gadling's trainer and therefore need to have some semblance of control and professionalism, what he says instead is, "I don't think such a thing will happen. And please, feel free to keep those clothes if you wish."

"Oh!" Professor Gadling exclaims. "I absolutely shouldn't. I'll wash them after and return them to you on our next session."

Dream smiles. He's very stubborn, too. "If you do that, I will simply put them in your locker so you will have an extra set of clothes if your sister decides to swap your clean set again."

Hob blushes as soon as Mr. Endless hands him the bundle of clothing, and feels even more flustered when, after showering, he holds them in his arms and smells a hint of Mr. Endless's own scent on them.

He really is so kind and generous and considerate and Hob is so very quickly falling in love with him.

Hob is walking past the gym's cafe after getting dressed when he sees Mr. Endless ordering what looks like a pineapple smoothie. He walks over and nods politely to both the staff member behind the counter and Mr. Endless when both men turn to look at him.

The male staff member quickly walks towards the blender to fulfill Mr. Endless's order, however, and so the two of them are left alone to converse freely.

"Thank you for lending me your clothes, Mr. Endless," Hob tells him, all-smiles. The clothes fit him perfectly, and the fabric feels good on his skin.

There is an undecipherable look in Mr. Endless's eyes. Hob hopes he's not mad. He looks really intense. "I see they fit you well."

Hob laughs. "I was surprised, too! Thank you very much for finding ones that are in my size. This jacket is especially lovely." He rubs his hand over the fabric of the jacket's sleeve, which really does have a nice texture to it.

"I'm glad you like it," Mr. Endless says. "And I hope that this means you are considering keeping it?"

Hob ducks his head to hide his embarrassing lovesick smile. He'd love to, actually. He'll take it off as soon as he gets home and press his face against it, hoping to smell what little remains of Mr. Endless's scent, and how their scents mix together. "Maybe."

"Then it is yours," Mr. Endless says. It might be Hob's delusional imagination, but Mr. Endless looks fond as he looks at him. His heart is beating so fast. If he doesn't leave soon, he may just do the unthinkable and kiss Mr. Endless in front of the poor staff member behind the bar, as well as a couple of random gym goers peacefully eating their salads in the background.

"Oh," Professor Gadling says softly. "Really? You mean that?"

Dream wasn't wrong in his assumption. The man does look good wearing his clothes. And for him to go out of his way just to show Dream how well they fit before he leaves...

Dream wants to tear his own clothes off him and just give him another set after.

"I do, Professor Gadling," he says. "I only say what I mean, and I would love for you to keep them. At home or in your locker, as long as your sister doesn't hide them from you and replace your clean change of clothes again."

"I will care for them well," Professor Gadling vows sincerely. Dream has no doubt that he will. But this is only the first of many clothes that Dream is planning on giving him. In fact, Dream could already envision his own closet at home, interspersed with Professor Gadling's clothes, and the man himself wearing Dream's clothes to bed. Dream is going to let him steal all his hoodies after they burn his ex's hoodies. He's going to spoil him rotten with pretty lingerie so he'll never have to go commando ever again. "Shall I see you in a couple of days for our next session?"

Dream could think of no one else belonging in his life as a romantic partner other than Professor Gadling. He smiles and barely prevents himself from leaning forward and giving the man's delicious-looking lips a chaste peck before he has to leave. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

#personal trainer dream au #your honor they need to chill tf out #dreamling #the sandman #my writing #5800 plus words motherfucker what #good job my thumbs #the rest of my fingers also contributed so 👏👏👏#matthew: boss pls i'm just trying to make you a smoothie here #other gym goers in the gym's cafe: really? right in front of our salads?#I was thinking what this AU's title is going to be if I put it on AO3 and my brain said 'Let's Get Physical' 😂#now I don't know about that but it certainly made me laugh #i'm sorry for laughing miss olivia newton-john 🙇‍♀️

229 notes · View notes

zapiarty · 4 months

Text

Sandman - Dead Boy Detective

1389 - Dream & Death meet Hob Gadling; who refuses to die 1489 - Dream & Hob form their Arrangement 1589 - Hob brags about how good he's got it, with a wife, a son, riches and a knighthood. Dream decides to leave early upon meeting William Shaxberd 1689 - Dream waits for Hob's arrival, who is at his lowest point in his life thus far, Dream expects Hob to ask for death now and is surprised when Hob laughs in his face and says "Death is a mug's game, I've got so much to live for!" 1789 - Dream warns Hob against getting involved with the Slave Trade, Lady Johanna Constantine interrupts their meeting, Hob comes to Dream's rescue briefly which amuses him 1889 - Hob wants to learn things about Dream, dares to suggest he's lonely and that they are friends, Dream storms off in a huff declaring he doesn't need Hob's company

1916 - Edwin Payne dies via ritual sacrifice to Hell by classmates at 16 - The Corinthian begins his mayhem in the Waking World - Dream of the Endless is captured & imprisoned by Roderick Burgess 1917 - Sleeping Sickness officially acknowledged - Unity Kincaid remains asleep

1926 - Ethel Cripps becomes Roderick Burgess' mistress - Roderick has his son Alex kill Jessamy the Raven - Ethel gets pregnant, steals the helm, sand, and ruby and flees - Roderick dies, Alex decides not to free Dream like he'd promised 1927? - Ethel Cripps gives birth to John D

? - Ethel bargains away the helm to a demon, sells the sand

1989 - Edwin Payne escapes Hell - Hob Gadling waits for His Stranger but he does not arrive (As Dream is still held captive in the Burgess' Estate) - Charles Rowland is murdered by classmates via hypothermia & internal bleeding at 16 in December of '89 - Edwin is there for Charles to ease his death; Charles decides to stay with Edwin instead of going with Death - Some point Edwin & Charles form the Dead Boy Detectives

1994 - Infamous Puppy Debacle (Charles got too attached to a living puppy?)

March 22, 1994 - Devlin Murders occur in Port Townsend, Washington

1997 - Great Fenwick Pixie Escape (puts Edwin at a loss)

2006 - Great Chewing Gum Debacle (stressor for Edwin?)

2015 - Rose Walker & her little brother Jed are split when Rose and their mother Miranda move but her father refuses to let Jed leave with them

2020 - Lyta's husband Hector dies via a car accident, Rose's ill mother dies near the end of the year

2021 - Dream/Morpheus is released & searches for his tools to rebuild the Dreaming - Unity Kincaid wakes the moment Dream is released - Johanna Constantine purchases the sand but left it at a girlfriend's place when she left her 6 months prior (resulting in her death via the sand) - Dream faces Lucifer in Challenge for his helm; wins & humiliates Lucifer - John D uses the Ruby to nearly destroy the world in an attempt to make a better one; causing mass destruction and death, destroys the ruby in an attempt to destroy Dream and replace him but this only returns the stored power to Dream in full

8 Months later: - Death & Dream have a talk, Desire & Despair plot to knock Dream's ego down as Desire's previous attempts failed (Nada, Roderick Burgess); focus turns to Rose Walker (Desire's Great-Granddaughter) - Dream reconnects with Hob at The New Inn; 30 years late but acknowledging their friendship - Rose Walker is the Vortex and looking for her brother Jed who dreams of being The Sandman (thanks to Gault) - Unity Kincaid asks Rose to meet her in London to reveal she's her Great-Grandmother (the Great-Grandfather being her Gold Eyed Man aka Desire) - The Corinthian attempts to use her to create a New Dreaming - Lyta Hall gets pregnant from her ghost husband in the Dreaming; Dream banishes the ghost from his realm as Ghosts shouldn't be there - Morpheus collects all his lost Dreams & Nightmares; returns the Corinthian to his base form - Dream of a Thousand Cats - Calliope's most recent "owner" slips up and she is able to send a message to Morpheus who comes to free her (by driving the man who binds her insane with ideas)

Late 2022 - Crystal Palace & David the Demon enter into a relationship

2023 - Edwin & Charles take on the Case of Crystal Palace on behest of Emma the Ghost

- Becky Aspen case in Port Townsend, WA; meet Esther the Witch, get trapped in Port Townsend by the Cat King - Niko Sasaki & the Dandelion Sprites Case - February 17; The Devlin House Case (Charles' history brought up, meet Monty) - Case of the Lighthouse Leapers (Charles & Crystal kiss, Night Nurse fed to Sea Monster, Cat King taunts Edwin with Monty & Charles' likeness in an attempt to get a kiss) - Case of the Two Dead Dragons (Edwin realizes he's truly in love with Charles as he comforts Charles after a breakdown, Monty steals Edwin's first kiss thinking Edwin was talking about him) - Case of the Creeping Forest (Monty's betrayal, Crystal's Awakening) - Case of the Very Long Stairway; Edwin gets taken back to Hell & Charles goes after him, Edwin confesses he's in love with Charles - Edwin meets Despair and she decides they are "friends" now - Case of the Hungry Snake; Niko dies (?) saving Crystal from Esther Finch in an attempt to rescue Edwin & Charles - The Lost & Found Department of the Afterlife "officially" allows the Dead Boy Detectives to work cases to help them help ghosts cross over in exchange for allowing them to stay together on Earth

#sandman #dead boy detectives #timeline #I tried to color coordinate it but the colors kept changing back to white so I gave up

38 notes · View notes

districtscare · 2 months

Note

🔥Johanna Mason

johanna isn't just her sexuality or her anger and rage. most people chalk her up to being strong and so bodly feminine all the time, when we see how fragile she actually is. she's got no one she loves left alive, and while she has people who she considers companions/friends, she's actually really lonely. (“you're the closest thing to friends she's got. ” which is said by haymitch to katniss and peeta, who johanna openly holds dislike against.)

despite her using the tactic of “crybaby” in her games as a way to flip it around and suprise her opponents, part of me believes that no matter what, johanna was afraid. she did feel fear and sensitivity and wasn't just some hardened girl. she was tossed into the arena just like everyone else and used her emotions as combat.

i see people always hype up the elevator scene as sexy or hot or a “sexual awakening” for them, but in reality it was honestly sad. using her body as a weapon and as a way to make people uncomfortable, and when you find out that she likely was a part of the victor trafficking rink, it's really depressing to see how she is willing to humiliate herself in that way, trying to hold onto a piece of her bodily autonomy and so.

not only that, but watching her drop so drastically character wise after her torture hurt so bad. it's likely post-war she barely could get better on her own. again, she's got no one. she's always been the only living female victor, and then she becomes the only living victor for 7.

#johanna mason #my darling my girl i love her so much #the hunger games #thg #catching fire #mockingjay #the hunger games trilogy

23 notes · View notes

thirdtidemouse · 9 months

Text

hilda characters in taskmaster, if this means anything to anyone:

for context, taskmaster is a show hosted by greg davies and pathetic assistant (/creator) alex horne. each series five comedians are made to do pointless and difficult tasks and are awarded points. it ends up being very very funny and very amicably argumentative.

for now, i'll do my classic 5 faves, but i would love to do more like edmund + some ocs!

hilda - starting with the kids, likely winner. i mean she is the main character, but she has those problem-solving skills and unbeatable enthusiastic spirit (which would definitely take a beating in this godawful game). i considered how different the competition might be given that they're kids? but lenny rush recently competed at 14 and he did awesome. hilda would definitely stand up for herself if she thought her score or the task was unfair but she is a good sport all round. most likely to miss the huge hidden-in-plain-sight clues. here to have fun but not fuck around. all the cheerful demeanor of rob beckett. likes to very gently make fun of alex. would never ever give up.

"what you can't take away from me is that i had an absolutely lovely day."

"people say my ADHD means i have shit problem solving skills. no sir!"

frida - nerdiness to rival josh widdicombe. knows the taskmaster's tricks and snoops all around for clues/hidden solutions. genuine competence and competitiveness of someone like sarah kendall, as indignant and argumentative as ed gamble. the one time she doesn't find the hidden alternative answer is when the main pathway is just 'do a really long maths sum to get the code for the lock' and she just gets on with it because she can. tries not to act overly proud of herself but after a particular stressful win she definitely gets up and cheers. argues with other contestants. gets very annoyed by alex and sometimes tells him to shut up.

"the only way i get out of this with any dignity is if i die right now."

[to a small plush vole] "you've got no chutzpah! your organizational skills are lacklustre, and your timekeeping is abysmal."

david - the awkward swagger of james acaster but absolutely 0 of his winning spirit. definitely a fan-favourite pathetic contestant. the show would wear his psyche down so much he would snap and end up begging for points in a total breakdown à la joe wilkinson. gets genuinely cocky after a rare win. gets very stressed out by alex and is very scared of greg. like mae martin, is initially very nonchalant about the tasks, but can become freaked out quickly. not very good at getting points. ashamed of his failures and overjoyed with his successes. most likely to be given a humiliating solo task.

"please don't take it away from me."

"well well well! looks like last in P.E., first in being a legend!"

johanna - total sweetheart, smiling all the time even when she fucks up and loses, much like charlotte ritchie. although she does fuck up and lose considerably less. less nervous though, here to have fun AND fuck around. a sally phillips approach to tasks, meaning chill as fuck, inconspicuously normal contestant, that consistently produces either the most terribly planned OR the most creatively out of pocket and deranged 'solutions', of which back in the studio she has zero explanation for and can only laugh uncontrollably as if it wasn't entirely her idea. this will inevitably win her a lot of points but she will fall short on something like charlotte ritchie's first prize task, in which she brings in all of her bedding, is told 'you can't just pick up stuff from around your house,' and is given last place. this also makes her place her head in her hands and giggle. her attitude carries charlotte's consistent likeness to a children's tv show host. zaniness and well-spoken ramblings of mike wozniak.

"when you have no other ideas, you stick to your bad idea."

"i was excited, there was fire, i'd been told to undermine a vole and i let him have it."

kaisa - will not embarrass herself for love nor money. could not give a fuck about any of you people and simultaneously is incredibly determined to win. would get increasingly distraught with the incompetence of any teammates in an ed gamble outburst. despite this, is a cooperative and hardworking teammate. would spend long periods of time in silent thought before carrying out her plan with no explanation along the way. like james acaster, does not ever say hello to alex, just because she 'doesn't have to.' generally does not like alex. to quote jamali maddix, 'he's a punk. i don't like him.' acts like a rebellious teen in the presence of greg. i have no solid outfit headcanons right now but she would wear what bridget christie wore:

"i've got three sensitivity levels! and i'll be honest, i'm on my top fucking one right now!"

"i knew we were against the clock, and i didn't give a fuck"

and here is my final test of character - one of the most simple and most telling tasks, from the very first episode:

"eat as much of this watermelon as you can in one minute."

hilda - romesh ranganathan. upon entry of the lab, she wields the watermelon above her head and smashes it into the floor, devouring as much of it as she can. total tunnel vision. she throws up a little at the end. wins the task.

frida - josh widdicombe. enters prepared with a knife, manages to hurriedly cut and eat a portion of the watermelon, with not nearly as much vigor as hilda. is not giving up any dignity for this. 3rd place.

david - frank skinner. was not expecting a whole watermelon. manages to quickly get into the melon but falls short at his eating speed. is clearly trying not to choke. 4th place.

johanna - tim key. no utensils required. cracks it open right there on the table, eating as fast as possible, almost to the same wild and untamed degree as her daughter. is docked points because she sneaks a final bite of watermelon after the minute is up, just because she enjoys it. 2nd place.

kaisa - roisin conarty. was also not expecting a whole watermelon. total lack of urgency in comparison. leaves the room and spends 50 of her 60 seconds retrieving a knife, which she totally could have done beforehand, manages to crack open and eat a total of 9 grams of the watermelon before her time is immediately up. last place. couldnt give a fuck though

thanks for reading guys. if you have anything to add or ask then please do. peace and love

#taskmaster #hilda the series #hilda netflix #hilda #johanna #kaisa #frida #david #au #my au #taskmaster au

60 notes · View notes

thegreenthepeacetheorange · 10 months

Text

Everlark (Mockingjay, Ch. 18-19)

because of everything in the last chapter, katniss throws herself into her training with a vengeance. something driven by what they've done to peeta but also that keeps her mind off it

the same way katniss used to watch peeta from afar in 12 when they were kids, she watches him when he starts showing up in training

"my weaknesses? that's a door i don't even want to open' let me guess it starts with a p and ends in eeta

i wish we all got a world where finnick got to heal post war with katniss, peeta, annie, haymitch and johanna... broken brady brunch that i love so much. the way being victors binds them into being this family so that even though when katniss says she doesn't really know johanna, we have seen how they are essentially sisters and understand each other in a way that most people don't... the gift she gives johanna when she's in the hospital is so beautiful and so emblematic of who katniss is despite the horrors she lives in. and it's also such a peeta thing to do. because they're both so thoughtful

(an aside: prim's goodbye to katniss hurts differently knowing what i know now)

the fact that she takes the pearl with her

coin was evil but thanks for sending peeta on the mission actually. forced dating trope is old news, forced fighting together in a war against an entity that has destroyed our whole lives is in

when katniss says the whole thing about how she wouldn't be shooting peeta, just one of the capitol mutts. very annoying of her actually but she says it herself, it's her lashing out because of how she's humiliated by it all that she's felt. but poor peeta having to hear that

gale offering to straight up kill him and katniss is like "um no". the fact that gale thinks that this is something she actually wants, that she thinks like him in terms of just wanting the problem dead. oh sweetie no. katniss straight up being like "i can deal with him" aka "mind your own business"

i answered a question here about the squad giving katniss unfriendly looks after her mutt comments about peeta so i won't type it all again

i'm grateful for haymitch talking sense into her because she needed it. with the situations reversed, peeta wouldn't have treated her like how she was treating him and she needed to remember that

"you're punishing him over and over for things that are out of his control"

haymitch reminding her of the deal they made to save peeta. they're still in the games and she's forgotten her task. but here it is again. she has to save peeta but this time she's not sure how to achieve that

finnick lending peeta his rope. ugh. him being there for peeta when katniss couldn't. the way they all step in for each other when others can't.

and she finally starts to open up instead of being defensive and cold back

"i suddenly want to tell peeta everything about who he is and who i am and how we ended up here. but i don't know how to start. worthless. i'm worthless. " - katniss taking it upon herself when actually the idea of telling peeta all this in its entirety is such a huge task because their relationship is too huge to capture in words, in moments.

peeta remembering her favourite colour...

his thank you to her when she tells him his...

"you're a painter. you're a baker. you like to sleep with the windows open. you never take sugar in your tea. and you always double-knot your shoelaces" - these small intimacies. these little facts that tell us how much katniss knows about him. the small things she's held onto. these little things she remembers with so much fondness.

can you imagine peeta listening to all that and then looking down at his double-knotted shoelaces? remembering the calmer sleep that comes with the wind blowing in through the open windows at night? ugh.

this whole passage tells her that katniss knows his essence. these little details that she's never mentioned to us before.

her running away after saying all that because she wants to cry. she's so devastated and i want to hug her and peeta

cheese buns being part of real or not real, along with the colour of katniss's dresses and their maths teacher. they know each other. have known each other.

i can't state how horrific it is that darius and lavinia were tortured and killed in front of peeta. because we obviously aren't his head for the books but the horrors that peeta suffered?! it upsets me so much every time i read this passage. they hurt and killed darius and lavinia to hurt and torture peeta.

(an aside: them all just being kids/young people and messing around while filming the propos and boggs having to reprimand them while holding back his own smile again just reminds me of how young they all were. it's so depressing)

#everlark #katniss and peeta #peeta x katniss #katniss x peeta #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #haymitch abernathy #tgtpto everlark read #the hunger games #mockingjay

78 notes · View notes

zqmbiescorpse · 1 year

Text

GLADIATOR, PART 3

johanna mason x female reader

a/n: i feel like they part is really wordy lololololol, also everytime i try to proof read i get very bored, so i will do it eventually (probably)

summary: after winning the 72nd hunger games, quite a name had been made for you in the capitol - quickly becoming a favourite across panem. because of this, naturally, you find yourself thrown back into the horror of the games due to the 3rd quarter quell, representing district 5 one last time. though, not all is lost, fellow tribute and close friend, johanna mason of district 7, finds herself in the same position.

tags: graphic depictions of violence (sometimes), johanna mason, katniss everdeen, peeta mellark, finnick odair, johanna mason x female reader, catching fire, mockingjay part 1, mockingjay part 2, 72nd hunger games, 75th hunger games, gore, eye gore, detailed descriptions of eyeball squishing, disabled reader, female reader, reader is missing an eye, reader is missing limbs, missing fingers, traumatic events, blood, choking, johanna mason needs a hug, rebellion, slow burn, mutual pining, scared of feelings, fluff, angst, making out, kissing, confessions, peeta has his prosthetic leg, maybe smut idk, tension, awkwardness, wlw, i love johanna so much

warnings for this part: making out, kissing, some angst

word count: 3.5k

(part 4) (masterlist)

The tribute parade was definitely something. Experiencing it for the first time, three years ago, it hadn't seemed so bad at the time - possibly due to the overwhelming anxiety and fear that kept you from processing any other emotion. However, going through it again made you realise how ridiculous the whole thing was. You hated everything about it. Sure that it was a humiliation tactic provided by the Capitol for entertainment, you had observed each of the various tribute outfits and were unable to detect anything that looked decent. Aside from the dazzling black material, which caught aflame, worn by Katniss and Peeta, everybody looked as stupid as they felt. How were your stylists allowed to do that to you?

In all honesty, it was a major struggle to keep a straight face, at that point you were just completely over it and couldn't take it seriously, eventually accepting the fact that you were dressed disgustingly. During the parade you found yourself distracted, fortunately, concerned with one thing. Johanna. Especially after the previous night, she remained prominent in your mind throughout the entire day and you were quite desperate to see her again.

You'd caught a few glimpses of her, each time you did you fought with yourself to stifle a laugh, although, to her credit, she managed to pull off the outfit in an odd way. Maybe it was because you found her extremely attractive, but even dressed as a tree, Johanna looked exceptional.

You were waiting in the lobby of the apartments with your stylist, mentor, and the male victor of your district, Gus. He was about 20 years older than you, the greys scattered in his hair growing more obvious with each day. The two of you weren't close and you hadn't discussed alliances with one another, assuming that in the arena you would be going your separate ways, which you were fine with, you didn't mind Gus at all, he was a nice guy.

"Ah! You both did so well today! Y/N, Gus, you looked amazing!" Your stylist, whose name you hadn't bothered to retain, announced delightedly, clearly very pleased with her work. She clasped her hands together and smiled widely before suggesting all of you return to the District 5 apartments for a meal, to celebrate.

Politely, you declined. You feigned exhaustion, excusing yourself and going on ahead with the intention of hiding away by yourself for a few hours. You said you were tired because of the hard work you'd done today, playing it up massively, yet, your mentor bought it and let you go.

You approached an elevator at the far end of the corridor, failing to see the victors from District 12 and their mentor enter it. About to step in, you finally noticed that you wouldn't be alone, becoming hesitant at the presence of Katniss and Peeta. Haymitch caught your eye with a look of reassurance, he was encouraging you to join them.

"Y/N Armstrong, District 5." While the idea of leaving them be and getting on the next elevator sounded a lot more appealing to you, Haymitch didn't give you the opportunity to decide for yourself, loudly declaring your arrival before you had the chance to back away.

"There's my favourite warrior," he joked as you nervously made your way, standing by his side to create some distance between yourself and the other victors.

"Hello, Haymitch," you spoke with an easily detectable awkwardness, causing your cheeks to heat up slightly at how strange you thought you'd sounded.

Similarly to most winners of the Hunger Games, you'd been given a nickname relevant to your triumph, branded by the Capitol for all of eternity. To them, you were known as the warrior, or, more commonly, the gladiator. Someone who was a ferocious fighter and absolutely brutal during a battle of life and death. Unfortunately, it was an accurate description considering the circumstances of your victory, but you found it funny how gladiators were usually slaves, trained and forced to fight, and weren't predicted to live long lives. The latter half you found you related to more.

Normally, hearing people call you that made you uneasy, cringing each time you were addressed as such, yet, when Haymitch called you that you knew it was him poking fun at the Capitol - mocking them, not you so you didn't mind it at all. Besides, you were close enough that you found some humour in his methods too.

Not much more was said, the atmosphere was uncomfortable and it didn't help that you could feel both Katniss' and Peeta's eyes constantly on you, both of them staring at your injuries.

"I'm not a fan of prosthetics," you blurted, brushing off any insecurity you had, faking confidence while you smiled at them. You sensed the comment had broken some of the suspense, since the elephant in the room had been acknowledged. Sometimes you walked around without even an eyepatch covering your socket, shortly after the tribute parade you removed the one given to you, discarding it. Consequently, you were feeling quite exposed standing there with people, who were pretty much strangers, the old wound on display for them to see.

"If I didn't need it to walk, I wouldn't either," Peeta spoke up, a welcoming warmth to his voice. You appreciated his response, the both of you were able to relate to each other, him wearing a prosthetic leg due to an infection that made him need to amputate. At least you could say that you and Peeta were somewhat friendly. You knew that Haymitch was probably pleased, happy that you were taking the plan of rebellion seriously by attempting to connect with the District 12 tributes.

"Why don't you wear them? If anything, you're just putting yourself at a huge disadvantage." That was the first time Katniss had ever said a word to you, her tone harsh, communicating suspicion and uncertainty perfectly. For some reason, you were getting the feeling that she wasn't very fond of you. Then again, untrusting and closed off was a large part of who Katniss was, understandably, so you didn't take it to heart.

"I like how it makes them uncomfortable." You were totally honest, having your injuries on show often satisfied you in a weird way, refusing to let the Capitol disguise what they did to you.

You could tell Katniss was a fan of your response, something in her face changing, it relaxed a little as suspicion morphed into respect. Imprinting a positive impression, the air felt a lot clearer than before and you felt you could breathe better, any anxieties about the situation disappearing.

Little conversation continued but you still felt that you'd managed to make a good amount of progress today regarding alliances. Then, the elevator doors slid open, allowing Johanna to saunter through them, that frustratedly amused expression, which she commonly wore, present. She briefly acknowledged you, enough to make the blood start rushing. You could tell that she was up to something, intrigued and glad to see her, you watched on intently.

"My stylist is such an idiot. District 7, lumber…trees. Ugh, I'd love to put my axe in her face." She rambled on, anger seeping through her words while she let her crimson hair flow free and removed any extravagant jewellery inconveniencing her.

The image of Johanna axing someone in the face. No matter how hard you tried to not be attracted to the idea of her doing that, you couldn't stop thinking about it. You too hated your stylist for what she made you wear, consequently seeing no issue with what the fired-up redhead was saying. God, just the thought of it made you feel…something.

Seemingly lost, drifting away in the daydream, you'd missed the part where Johanna got undressed and was now completely naked in front of the four of you, flashing everyone standing in the elevator. You'd heard that earlier on in the day, Finnick had approached Katniss in the same playful manner, more subtly since he didn't strip off. It was a way of lightly intimidating her, observing how she would react in an uncomfortable situation; having some fun at her expense yet seeing whether the person they were risking their lives to protect was worth it.

Haymitch and Peeta were clearly enjoying themselves, shamelessly taking in everything Johanna had to offer. On the other hand, you struggled to not stare at her stunning body, her bare chest perfectly in line with your sight if you were to look ahead like a normal person. Your eyes fixated on every spot around your area that wasn't the person in front of you, you were a flustered mess, blushing all over, now feeling rather warm.

Although what she was doing was not aimed towards you, Johanna took notice of every reaction you were having, relishing in how nervous she made you feel, every smidge of red splattered on your cheeks was because of her, and she was proud.

You could almost smell the disgust radiating from Katniss, unimpressed by Johanna's stunt, she tried seeking support from you as together you'd discovered a newfound respect for one another. She expected you to be equally repulsed, only to find that you were trying so desperately to not pass out because of Johanna. Katniss bit her tongue, rolled her eyes and came to the conclusion that you were into Johanna, though, at least you were being more respectful about it. Haymitch and Peeta gawked while you had the decency to look away, even if it was because you felt awfully tense and awkward due to the attraction and feelings you had for her.

With the rise of a perfect brow, the fierce woman gave one last glance at everyone, winking at Haymitch, the pair exchanging knowing looks. Sensing her departure, you quietly let out a sigh of relief, having been holding your breath, allowing your heart rate to regulate. Regaining confidence, your vision altered itself from a top corner of the elevator to what you expected to be an empty space ahead of you. To your surprise, Johanna remained unmoving, her dangerously mischievous eyes already on yours.

You had no chance to inquire, her hand wrapped tightly around your wrist, her grip firm, practically dragging you away with her - a delighted cheek plastered to her face.

"Thanks! Let's do it again sometime!" marvelled the domineering woman, her voice getting lost to Peeta and Katniss while she made her way into the hallway, a very confused, uneasy you trailing behind, sort of against your will?

"I was supposed to get off ages ago, this isn't my floor," the sudden realisation hitting you, displaying stupidity since this was unmistakably not your floor.

"No, it's my floor, and you got off at the right time, with me. We're going to my apartment," Johanna informed you, leaving no room for protest.

At that moment, she spun around to face you after leading on in front, finally releasing the hold she had on your reddening wrist. However, she made sure to run her thumb gently over the mark, sparking jolts of an electric sensation down your left arm, then she dropped your hand.

"Why?" Your voice was laced with bewilderment. There was an additional something you were meaning to vocalise, but any recollection of what it was disappeared once you were faced with the naked woman again.

"Johanna, I can't believe you're wandering around without any clothes, shouldn't you, yknow, put something on?" Fumbling your words here and there, a cloud of scarlet dust crept its way back up your neck.

"Well why do you think we're heading back to my room?" She mocked, inching closer to you, whispering, “What is it, baby? Do you not like my body?”

You froze, slightly wide-eyed, a feeling of dread at the lack of ability to think of something to say. Johanna just laughed.

“Okay…whatever, let’s hurry up then. I mean, what if someone sees you?” You finally responded, purposefully ignoring some parts of what she’d said, apparently more embarrassed than she was.

“You’ve already seen my plenty,” She smirked, her pointer finger jabbing into your shoulder, “So has Katniss, so has Haymitch, so has Peeta. It doesn’t bother me, I’ve been seen in worse states anyway, crying, shaking, covered in the blood of others, right? And the whole of Panem saw that.” The seductive expression never left her face while she was talking, a huge contrast to the words coming out of her mouth, the sinister undertones lacing them.

Johanna witnessed a change in you. She was enjoying the teasing and seeing you tense up every time she took a step closer to you, until getting any closer wouldn't leave room to breathe. Although it was doubtful that she would ever confess it, she disliked seeing you sad, and you were looking pretty dejected after she reminded you of the world you were living in, having been immersed in whatever was occurring between you both.

Eventually, you had gotten back to her apartment and Johanna wasted no time getting dressed into a more casual attire, disappearing into her closet. Her room appeared identical to yours: same rectangular shape, same double bed with the same luxuriously styled sheets, same window, and even the same bedside table.

"Is everything alright, Johanna?" You asked, growing ever more curious as to why she brought you all the way here.

"Mhm, yeah, why'd you ask?" She called back, still out of sight.

"Because…is there a reason why you wanted me here?" You could only imagine how timid you sounded, glad that she couldn't see you fidgeting about.

"Was you expecting something? I bet you thought you were gonna get lucky," Johanna almost howled, reappearing suddenly.

"What? No… we're friends… I don't know, maybe I thought you needed something…" Your voice trailed off, each word getting harder and harder to hear, almost a fearful whisper as you awkwardly laughed your way through your speech.

The unique effect Johanna caused whenever she was around you was extraordinary - a tense thrill that you could never want to dispose of. It was humiliating how you seemed to melt into a goopy, uncoordinated puddle on the floor each time she gave you the time of day. Considering the less-than-ideal world you lived in, not many things brought joy to your life, hence your strong attachment to the short-tempered tribute from District 7, thus, it would be a total lie to pretend that you weren't expecting anything to happen.

Seeing her on the opposite side of the space, you were caught in her cheery gaze, provoking a smile to form on your lips. This seemed to satisfy her ever-growing playful mood.

"Well maybe I do need something, baby…" Johanna suggested, a nonchalant grin gracing her alluring features.

It was aggravatingly slow. She wasn't even that far from you. Yet, Johanna took her sweet, sweet time moseying over, each step she took closing the gap keeping you apart.

"Whatever it is, I can try my best to help. I'm always here for you and stuff…" You claimed, the nerves rapidly ramping up. Fully aware that advice and a conversation weren't what the enticing woman before you desired.

An approving hum tickled your ears, Johanna was now so near to you that you could feel her warm breath on your lips, mere centimetres apart from hers. You were desperate to close the gap but couldn't bring yourself to do it, something was stopping you from finally putting an end to all the agonising tension. Maybe it was the fact that you couldn't possibly fathom the idea of someone as beautiful as Johanna expressing a romantic interest in you. Maybe her bringing you back to her room, backing you into a corner, was just another teasing gesture that in a few moments would be over and everything would die down the moment things started to feel serious between you and her.

"What is it, pretty girl? What are you thinking?" Johanna almost whispered against your lips, a whole new wave of red coating your cheeks.

Lacking a response, the beautiful woman took it upon herself to cup your face in her soft hand, feeling the heat radiating off your skin, while she gently tilted your chin, forcing you to meet her gaze. You observed an odd mix of emotions, her eyes suggesting seduction, lust, desperation, longing, yet, there was also uncertainty and fear.

"Johanna…please…"

As much as she was giving in to your pleas, Johanna was giving into herself, she'd been craving your affections and couldn't hold herself back any longer, though there was an isolated nervousness to her that was hidden excellently, you didn't notice a thing, too excited and wide-eyed her lips meeting yours.

It was barely a brush, a soft press, sudden feelings of hesitancy present again and the kiss did not last long. You felt quite satisfied, having managed to feel her lips against yours, even though it was short - yearning for more. Sparks ignited your entire bodies because of the tender moment, spurring Johanna on.

Her mouth soon connected back to yours, crashing into it hungrily, her tongue swiping across your lips, which you parted, accidentally whimpering into her mouth. This kiss continued to deepen, becoming bruising, you couldn't help but feel like she was being a little rough, not that you minded, triggering a similar amount of passion from you.

The past three years have brought a strange relationship into your life through the likes of Johanna, it had been very gradual, for starters, not seeing her as much as you had wanted caused your friendship to build at an excruciatingly slow pace, the romantic feelings that came later were danced around for far too long - tensions constantly high, the desire for one another ever-growing

Her hands roamed your body, fingers trailing around your hips, she grasped at your clothes and guided you backward pushing you flush up against the wall in her apartment. Clearly the more dominant out of the two of you, Johanna seemed to be in control, leading the kisses and the occasional touches over each other's aroused bodies.

Breaths were few and far between, more concerned with keeping the movement of your lips entwined; like your mouths were glued together, impossible to part, the simplicity of inhaling and exhaling became their least significant thing. But you did part, eventually, not wanting to lose the closeness, your hands remained tangled in her dark hair and Johanna left a series of pecks around your lips, regaining air every other second.

The erratic atmosphere came to a halt, presenting an opportunity to calm down. Faint pants could be heard, but that was all. A grin stretched across your face, wide and hopeful, never breaking eye contact with a content Johanna. She wasn't smug, amused, or teasing, appearing genuinely pleased. It was a moment you could bask in for hours, a golden glow basking you both, in her arms, playing with her luscious locks, reshaping the spikes that added so much to her personality without fail.

And then, she pulled away.

Immediately, you could sense something was wrong. The previously loved-filled eyes looking down at you in a memorised trance turned sinister, the happiness washing away and being swiftly replaced by…regret?

You could feel a shake against your waist, her smooth palms let go and she retreated back into herself. A distance had been put between you, physically and emotionally.

"Johanna, what is it? Did I do something wrong? Are you okay?" Whereas the words would usually come tumbling out of your mouth due to nervousness caused by a silly, awkward crush, here, you were stumbling and stammering because you could see the cogs turning in Johanna's mind - caught up in her own dreadful thoughts, a painful expression flashing her features.

She didn't respond. Growing worried by the second, you tried to move nearer, consequently, Johanna became infuriated, the intense anger she would aim towards everyone in the Capitol, a side of her you hadn't witnessed directly.

"You need to leave, go, I don't want you here!" She yelled, repeating it until her throat went sore and her eyes started to water from frustration.

Initially, you stood there, perfectly still. To understand would take a while. It was obvious how scared she was and that frightened you, you struggled to comprehend the abrupt change occurring so drastically, your world crashing down around you. The sweet bliss and sheer joy you had felt were rare, the last time you had felt so happy was hard to recall, however, your naive heart was being crushed by the one who had made it beat so freely.

Your stomach turned, nausea corrupting your senses, the shouts for you to leave never ending, and getting through to Johanna was impossible. Tears flowing, streaming down your cheeks, you made haste, slamming the door as you left - consumed by sorrow and bewilderment.

That night, you didn't get much sleep.

#johanna mason x reader #fanfiction #x female reader #finnick odair #katniss everdeen #lqbtqa #peeta mellark x reader #the hunger games #catching fire

362 notes · View notes

witchofhimring · 11 months

Text

Loyalty (chapter 6)

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Tyrell Reader

Aemond Targaryen x Ellyn Baratheon

(more to come!)

Y/n Tyrells Profiles

Warnings: Angst, heartbreak, childbirth, emotional turmoil, death, unrequited love?, humiliation by Ellyn Baratheon, marital abuse, marital consummation, misogamy (internalized as well as external), brief depictions of smut, Plot twist at the end!

Synopsis: Loyalty is the string that binds us together. But that same string may very well be used to hang you.

And as news heralds of Princess Rhaenys falling in battle Vaeron Velaryon arrives at Casterly Rock.

"The father looks upon all his children with good will." The Septon spoke to the small congregation in front of him. The only think you liked about this sept was that you could hear the waves. Dowager Queen Alicent's personal sept had been small, plain. But there was something about it that she loved. You supposed it was because it was small and isolated, a place where she could briefly get away from the world. You could never say that a sept made you feel at home. Yes, there was a familiarity to the seven statues in the Red Keep. But never had you truly loved the place. Maybe that was why the First Men loved their Weirwood trees so much. If you had such a sanctuary you might treasure it forever.

When the final prayer was concluded everyone rose to their feed, eager to head for more pleasurable activities. As you wondered how you might spend your time Jason Lannister placed a hand on your shoulder. "My Lady, I request your presence in my chambers. You may eat first, but attend to me." A request meant you had a choice, this was an order. Jason Lannister had never mentioned your argument about Lady Reyne. He seemed content to ignore it and you were too proud to bring it up again. Lady Karina helped you dress into a nightgown and robe. After the events of two weeks ago you had hardly spoken a word to Lady Mari, who seemed for willing to be absent as of late. Good. You walked down to your husbands chamber. Normally he requested your presence at this hour. You supposed that he spent his nights with the Reyne woman. His lady, wife, took second place to a mistress. While you had to lay beside one of your ladies so that you might not sleep with another man Jason Lannister slept with his whore. Such was the way of the world.

Your couplings with your husband were not as bad as the first time. At least there was no one else to witness it. Sometimes he touched you, a few times he kissed you. It was not very pleasant but it could have been worse. At least he was gentle enough. You pumped these thoughts through you brain as he had his way with you. You lay on your back and stared at the canopy above. You stared at the canopy and counted the lions embroidered on it. Was this how Johanna Lannister had felt? Or perhaps it had been different. Maybe as the second wife you held little importance in your husbands mind. After all, he had done this once before. Once he was finished Lady Alana came to collect you. A daily ritual of cleaning commenced. Only Lady Alana and Karina were permitted to attend you during these vulnerable moments. You were normally worn out after these encounters, so you would order food from the kitchens and lay down for a while.

Despite the war raging all around Casterly Rock somehow felt safe. Or, at least as safe as could be with Lady Mari breathing down your neck. While the outburst two weeks ago had been her last she still had an eye on you. Ever vigilant she had been. Even when she was absent you felt the eyes of her informants on your always. Even when you lay in bed and they were gone. You hoped to be saved from Ellyn's torment, only to fall into a far greater trial. At least at night you were amongst allies. Not here in this ancient fortress.

You were surrounded. And yet all alone.

Casterly Rock held an impressive library. Over the many years it stood past Kings and Lords added texts to its ever expanding depths of wealth. You were careful to handle the delicate parchment with great care. Your two lady friends attended you as hours were spent amongst the old pages. When you were not in the library time was spent with the ladies of Casterly Rock. There was some joy to be found amongst their company. It reminded you of simpler times in the Red Keep. Sometimes when the Dowager Queen had been in a good mood musicians would come and play music. You, Lady Flora and Lady Catrina along with the other ladies would dance. So amongst your ladies you made merry. Lady Katrina skipped to a light hearted tune with one of her cousins. Beside you another lady named Lady Dara sat laughing with a goblet of wine. According to talk she made freely with wine and was a horrid gossip. She went on about a rumor taking place with your husbands uncle. Apparently he had taken a peasant woman to wife. He was a man who drank deeply from the cup of pleasure, just as Lady Dara did with wine. "And they say she is a whore from the brothels!" Cackled Lady Dara. "No, where did you hear this!" You gasped, listening in wrapped attention. To hear of such a lose woman being part of house Lannister was unthinkable. On pillows by your feet were other great ladies, most about your age. The older ones were in the corner discussing some issues you had little mind to pay head to. Lady Karina fell with a giggle onto the pillows. You reached for a goblet and flagon of wine and handed it to her. Greatfully she drank. You looked around and suddenly noticed Lady Alana was missing. "Has anyone seen the Lady Alana?" Her golden curls were not to be seen. "She may be tired." Suggested one Lady. "I believe she had important matters to attend to. Interjected Lady Karina. With a sigh you leaned back. This was far better than your husband or Lady Mari's company. Maybe you could be alright here. Listening to music, drinking and making merry with these ladies did not seem so bad. And with that though your thoughts left Lady Alana.

Your coupling ended with him spending himself inside of you. He pulled out and you got up. Beside the bed was a basin of warm water. You wiped the excess off of your thighs and made ready to leave. But suddenly he commanded you to stop. "My Lord." Jason Lannister gestured towards the vacant chair by the fireplace. Obeying, you sat opposite from him. In the glow of the fireplace he looked handsome, in his way. "I hope that we can come to an understanding. May I call you Y/n in private." Suddenly feeling hot inside, you shyly smiled and nodded. Although you could not say you were in love, or even really liked your husband, getting on good terms would make everything so much easier. Maybe you could grow to love him. However the ghost of Aemond's shadow loom. Or rather, the love you once held for him. What you felt for Aemond now was something you could not quite place a finger on. You could not say the feeling was gone, more like buried under hurt and pain. But compared to the love you had held, you knew anything for Jason Lannister would be less. And it saddened you greatly. "I miss my late wife." His comment made you feel uneasy. Then, you felt guilty. As his wife was it not your duty for him to lay his troubles upon you? You remembered only seeing Johanna Lannister once. No words were exchanged. Though you remembered her to be quite beautiful with a tall figure and golden hair. You supposed he should miss her dearly. After all, they had been married more many years. The though made you feel very lonely. While marriages were made of convenience you had hoped you might marry for love, or at least that such feelings might manifest over time. But as you thought about it that possibility seemed unlikely. You would spend your youth stuck in a loveless relationship. "It is understandable my Lord." Was all you could say. Jason Lannister simply sighed. "Now, there is one matter I wish to address. And I do wish to speak of this matter in the most plain terms." You suspected what this was, and you were so tired of it. But you decided this conversation needed to happen. "It is about Prince Aemond." You spoke before he did. Jason Lannister nodded and took another glass of wine. "I must confess that I did not believe the rumors. Dowager Queen Alicent insisted they were simply rumors. Princess Ellyn has been jealous after all." A spasm stabbed your mouth. But this was bound to happen at some point. Instead of letting your rage take over, it was best to deescalate the situation before it got out of control. "I admit that I know the Prince as well. Nothing inappropriate had ever taken place however. I can assure you of that, My Lord." "Then why did Princess Ellyn take such a dislike towards you?" "She was jealous of any lady who held the Princess attention. You should have seen the way she looked at Queen Helaena." The last part was a lie. But if it served your purpose so be it, Ellyn deserved no sympathy from you.

Jason Lannister leaned back with a curious look on his face. "You mean his own sister? I know Targaryens marry their siblings but she is married to her brother Aegon." You filled your goblet again. "You know, I did hear from her sister Lady Cassandra that she is quite the jealous woman." Jason Lannister pondered. Feeling much more relaxed you went on. "Really?" The idea of getting dirt of Ellyn was absolutely intoxicating. "I heard that when a knight she took a fancy to asked for her sister Floris's hand, Ellyn did not speak to her for a week. Quite unbecoming for a woman. Perhaps.......wait no! That knight was Ser Harwin Strong!" You laughed. Well it seemed Harwin had a taste for highborn ladies. Everyone knew Rhaenyra's sons were bastards. "Mayhaps she wanted his bastards as well." Jason Lannister roared with laughter at your comment. "It tell you Y/n, some women are absolutely uncontrollable. Rhaenyra was a real cunt as a girl, did I ever tell you that?" "Not surprised. Her sons are little better. Such is their bastard nature." Jason Lannister found himself quite agreeing with your statement.

A messenger arrived at dawn the next morning. You were woken to abrupt knocking at your door. "Please go get it." You groggily asked Katrina. With little grace she slipped out of bed and opened the door. Lady Mira rushed in. "My Lady, there is an emergency. Your husband is waiting in his study. Wide awake, you were out of bed with Karina throwing a shawl over you. "Are we being invaded?" Lady Mari rushed you out the door. "No I do not think so My Lady." As you ran through the hall all possibilities came to mind. What had happened? Was the King dead? Was Rhaenyra dead? You hoped to any gods out there that Jaecerion was safe. Jason Laanister was at his desk, dead in hands. "My Lord?" The newly build fire hurt your eyes from its contrast to the darkness. Jason Lannister straightened and and brushed his hair out of his face. A crumpled letter was on his desk. Whatever its contents were boded ill. "The King has been injured. They don't even know if we will survive." "How?!" Dread pooled in your stomach. If the King died now then a boy would be on the throne. You thought back to the two little children, Jaehaera and Maelor. Were they to lose their father as well? While Aegon might not have been the most attentive father it was a horrible thing to lose your father. When your own had died...well, you really could not remember much of it. You just remember feeling so terribly sad and then burring it beneath a blanket of facades. The truth was, now that you thought of it, you had hardly thought about hin these days. You did not want to think about him. Because then your mind would drift to "what ifs' and you did not want to dwell on such sad things.

"Aemond has been named regent." So Ameond will be getting what he always wanted. Briefly you wondered if he had his own ambitions to take the throne. While you knew he craved power there were some limits not even he would cross. Although, it did suddenly cross you that Jaecerys was not named regent. He was the older brother after all. Although perhaps he did not want it. Somehow you had difficulty imagining Jaecerys sitting in the council signing papers. He was the energetic son of Alicent Hightower. The one who took to his dragon and disappeared for days at a time, he had no head for ruling. Then, you thought about how this made Ellyn the second most prominent woman in the realm. You hoped she never sat that throne.

An uneasy silence broke out over Westeros. A sudden cold wind had rolled down from the north. Fearing that winter might set in, the combatants laid low with the exception of the north. "Damn maesters didn't even know winter was coming!" Jason Lannister had complained. But it soon came to pass that the worry was for naught. The winds went as summer resumed. Most of your days were spent with the ladies, enjoying copious amounts of delights, trying to forget the war raging outside. You had settled into a sort of routine. Despite this there were those you did not wish to remain. Tyshara still obviously hated you, and the sight of Lady Redwyne was nearly intolerable to you. She wore beautiful jewels that Katrina told you belonged to the original lady of Casterly Rock. How she had the nerve you never understood. She had been mistress to the lord since before Lady Johanna's death, and now her spirit was exist with the knowledge that her rival was wearing her jewels.

You received another letter from Lady Joan. As usual, her clipped tone could be heart through the parchment.

Y/n,

It is a good thing you have started to settle into Casterly Rock. The reports I receive on your behavior are favorable at the moment. As I expect them to be. In your last letter you requested I find where Lady Elinor has gone. Well I am to tell you that there is not point in finding that woman. She has brought disgrace on our family through her foolish actions. So it is as well that you forget about her. What you should be worrying about is the lack of an heir. It has been four months and I heard you had your blood last month. I will remind you that a woman's sole function is to provide said heir. Your own mother had you within a year, so I see no reason why you should not. Write to me soon about the mood at Casterly Rock.

Sincerely,

Lady Joan Tyrell

You knew the chance of Lady Joan making an effort to find Elinor were slim. She was simply not worth the effort in her eyes. But you would be a poor friend if you did not at least try. Nevertheless bitterness stung. All she had done was serve you well. And for that she was banished because of that Baratheon bitch. Deep in your heart you wished you had the ability to curse that woman. You hoped that Ellyn would find someone she cherished very much, and that you would be the one to take it away from her.

It took you time to compose yourself enough to put pen to parchment. Despite everything you were still a scion of of the house of Tyrell. From the day you were born loyalty had been welded into you, as it was for all.

"Why is kinslaying so abhorred?" You had asked Aemond one day. The two of you had found a secluded spot in the library. Aemond was probed up on the window while you lounged on a pile of pillows. "It is killing ones own family." Aemond turned a page of his book. "I know. It is just that in almost every religion.....not that I am committing heresy I just read about them in the library, kinslaying is the greatest crime. Even those who worship the Drowned God hold such views." Aemond looked up from his book, and pondered. "I once read that it is because the Seven despise it so much that even false Gods will not object." You leaned back against the pillows, satisfied with his answer. But in the coming years, as you sat in your room at Casterly Rock, suddenly felt unsatisfied with his answer.

You had embroidered a handkerchief with golden roses for your husband. Jason Lannister was to meet Rhaenyra's forces in the field. After the brief spell of cold the ground had softened making it harder for the northern forces to advance. What also barred their way was the fires that now roasted the Riverlands. You heard stories of entire towns being burned by Vhagar, and a shiver that you suppressed nearly overwhelmed you. He was the most powerful man in the realm and had now put it to the torch. Sometimes, unbiddenly, you wondered which side was worse.

Prince Vaeron's army was marching on Casterly Rock. Eight thousand men from the Riverlands. The Greyjoy's had now thrown in their lot with the Blacks. Jason Lannister said that it was likely they would attack on both sides, from the water and land. All joy had stopped as battle loomed closer. Stories were told of the Ironborn and how they raped and kidnapped women. You had nightmares of them barging in and slaughtering everyone. In the morning you had nearly thrown up from the anxiety.

The day the men were to head out you got up early and attended to your duties. By sunrise everyone was hurried out onto the yard to bid the army farewell. Deciding to hand you favor to your husband in private. You requested that all your ladies but Katrina wait outside. "Do you think he will like it?" You asked Katria, showing her the stitching. "Very." You walked to his bedroom. A hallway down you heard Jason Lannister's voice. Hurrying up, you picked up the train of your dress. Suddenly, you stopped. The other voice was Lady Redwine. "I hope you will take this as a token of my affection." Your hands wrung the cloth as Lady Redwyne's voice permeated the air. You felt Katrina's hand on your shoulder but hardly cared. Wheeling about, you stormed right back to your room. Katrina followed silently all the while. The doors to your room bust as you stormed in. Two maids tending the fire leapt up in alarm. You said nothing, because you did not need to. They scurried out as if one fire leaving only you and Katrina. "Y/n-" The favor crumpled in your hand, you walked towards the fire. The golden thread shinned in the firelight as it was hurled into the flames. With grim satisfaction you watched the white and gold smolder and blacken.

You were cordial with Jason Lannister when he left. But all words of comfort had fled from you in your bitterness. "I hope you have a successful campaign." Was all you said. He looked miffed. You wanted to tell him you knew. But not in front of all these lords and ladies. Just because he humiliated you did not mean the rest of the court could laugh at you. As he mounted his horse you wondered where her favor was on him. Mayhaps near the heart, where you would never be. The horses mane flowed elegantly in the air as all the horses turned. Banners were hoisted in the air. Cries were called out as wives and daughters called out to their loved ones. You said nothing. Why would you?

The Sept became the sanctuary. You would rather stay in the castle but you also did not want to be left alone. Most days were spent in the Sept praying for the Greyjoy's to be defeated on the sea. You wished they would not. It was much harder to shake off the fear that something might go wrong when that was all anyone was talking about. Besides, praying did nothing for you these days. Where once the Seven had been your sanctuary it now felt foreign. You would look out one of the small windows and watch the trees eerily move with the breeze. You had never gone into the forest, with the rumors of witches and robbers inhabiting it. But there was a strange urge to do so. Maybe you would feel safer there than in here.

Soon however, you wished to be left alone. The perpetual anxiety was too much to bear. You sympathized, but could no longer take it. So you retreated to a smaller room, a private place of worship. Most days you spent looking out at the forest. You wondered what took place in the dark. Rather than frightening you it intrigued you. attempts were made to ask about the forest. But a lifetime of being told its horrors made the ladies warry of even speaking about it. "We best not speak of it. We could get their attention." "Who's." They would look around and then whisper. "The witches." "Have they ever caught one?" "Never. Or at least not in a long time. But odd things happen in that forest." You did not question any further. Who needed to? Anyone who took a look at those trees knew there was something otherworldly about it.

You were walking through the forest with purpose. It was with the intensity of one who knew where they would end up, yet this path was unrecognizable. Alone you went deeper and deeper. Faces stuck out of the bark, eyeless with sap like blood oozing out of them. They looked so real, more than the statues in the Sept. When you did reach the destination there was a circular clearing. You had the sensation, although there was no evidence, that you were at the very heart of the forest. A Weirwood tree was in the middle, its branches stretched outwards towards you. Walking forwards, you stretched your arms out. The branches drew you in closer and suddenly you were pressed against the tree. "Change. Change. You must shed it." And blood poured from your wrists.

You woke up on the ground. Sore, you stumbled to your room. A sharp wrapping was heard at the door. With as much composure as you could muster you walked to the door and opened it. Katrina stood on the threshold, she looked almost worn out. But there was a flush of jubilation in her face. "My Lady, it is your husband! He has vanquished Prince Vaeron's army and taken him prisoner. And the Greyjoy's have been pushed back. We are saved!" With a scream you jumped up and pulled her into a hug. You were saved. The pair of you ran downstairs to see the ladies hugging, crying and praying to the Seven. With a relief greater than one could imagine the doors opened and a windy sky hailed you.

Jason Lannister looked well enough. He was exhilarated by his success. And it had the added effort of him being most eager to give you attention. Couplings were becoming more tolerable. You learned to favor the touches he gave you in bed. He even stayed with you for a time afterwards. Even if it was just to keep you compliant it was better than nothing. And it did nothing to soften you towards Lady Redwyne. You took notice of the two children he had fathered with you. Jason Lannister had three baseborn children. One of them to some kitchen maid and the other two by Lady Redwyne. You felt dissatisfied by your lack of an heir. You wanted a child, not just to provide and heir. But because you truly wanted a child of your own. The idea of having a beautiful babe to hold filled you with longing. Your ladies had started to ask you questions such as "do you feel well in the morning" to "do you feel any changes"? You were not sure. There was no sickness, although your period had come late. But you knew this was no surety. Women's bleedings did not happen always on time. And besides, the pressure could also be getting to you. But at least now there was hope.

Despite the victory, war was far from over. The Kings forces were trying to break the blockade house Velaryon had over the sea. At least no town or cities would be in danger. There was great pity in your heart for those men and boys who could not escape the battle. And just such a boy currently resided in the prison cells of Casterly Rock. You did not see Vaeron when he was first brought in, only when he was forced to stand before your husband. It was just two days later. When you first entered it struck you how young he was. Vaeron was younger than yourself. There was still a smidge of baby fat left to his gentle face. Creeping anxiety immediately made you want to turn away from this. This eye met yours for the first time in years. Your memories of your shared youths were mostly distant. In fact you had hardly thought of him these past years. But suddenly they all melted away and you were left standing before a boy you had known since childhood. You had never liked him, but seeing the boy in chains brought you no joy.

Vaeron was hauled before the chair. Despite the haughty look on his face you noticed a quiver in his eyes. Fear. Boys his age fought in wars. But now at nearly twenty suddenly he looked too young. You thought of all the young ones who would die before even truly tasting life. Then images of a boy, not much older that the one before you, falling from the sky in pieces. And then those pieces were shallowed by the ocean, like war sweeping away lives. If you bore a son what would happen to him. Until now you had not considered the possibility of him fighting wars. It was every mothers desire to have a son. But with that came the fear of losing that boy in some far off land. Just as Dowager Queen Alicent would likely spend her days waiting for news on her four boys. Just as Rhaenyra's thoughts constantly encircled the memory of the children she had already lost. You prayed that such a horror would never come to you.

"Vaeron-" Jason Lannister started, only to be cut off. "That is Prince Vaeron Velaryon to you. Ser." You had to admire him for his braver at the very least. You gasped as a knights fist collided with his face. Vaeron stumbled but did not cry out. "You are no Prince. Only the bastard son of that whore. Do you know what they call your mother? Maegor with teats. And like him it seems that one man is not enough." "As one woman is not enough for you." But that was not said aloud. "At it seems like him you will not have a male heir. Tell me, is Y/n with child yet?" A hot rush went through you. Despite being lady of Casterly Rock he still disrespected you. Memories of a boy who hardly acknowledged you came to mind and all pity evaporated. "As a matter of fact, Vaeron, the maesters suspect I may be. And even if I do have a girl, at least none shall question the validity of mine." Jason Lannister turned to you, shock and relief on his face. "Are you sure?" The look on his face caused a more pleasant warm to stir within you. "It is not yet assured. But there is a good chance I am." Jason Lannister gave you the brightest smile you had ever seen on his face before taking your hand. You looked at Vaeron right in the eyes triumphantly. It gave you immense satisfaction to be able to finally show him your worth. Here he was a mere prisoner, a nobody compared to the lady of Casterly Rock.

Only a smile came onto his face. Or rather, a smirk. A malevolent gleam glinted in his eyes. "Are you quite so sure of that?" Breathed hissed between your teeth. "Last I heard your eye was on my uncle. Perhaps if the babe came out with white-" "Silence!" You had risen to your feet, composure lost. Jason Lannister, however, was the one to come to your defense. "Princess Ellyn is known for having a lose tongue. So you will forgive us if we do not believe the gossip you so willingly lapped up." There was laughter that grated your nerves. Hatefully you looked down at him.

Vaeron's fate hung in the balance. Some felt that the boy should be executed, one less heir for Rhaenyra. Others felt that as she was still at large they could use her son as a bargaining chip. You just wished they would leave the boy down there to rot. Now that they suspected you were pregnant the attention paid to you increased. Ladies who originally shunned you suddenly showed up at your tea parties. Each night and morning you would neck your linen and sanitary wear. The fear that one day you might find blood between your legs petrified you. It gave you great joy to finally write to Lady Joan that you were with child. She was quick to reply.

Y/n,

It is very well that you have become with child. If you have a son we may betroth Malinda to him. Be careful of what you eat as a healthy baby is crucial to our plan. I was most relived to hear of your husbands victory and the apprehension of Vaeron. You must convince your husband to execute him. The boy may undo all that we have strived to achieve. If not for the family, do it for the sake of your child. Remember. This is your duty.

Lady Joan Tyrell

Sickness caused acid to burn the muscles of your throat. As much as you reviled Vaeron the idea of being the one to kill him was horrifying. And the truth was you did not really want him to die. But Lady Joan's letter cause to cause to think. She was right, you thought. Your child would be in danger with the boy still alive. And it was your duty to take your houses side. Would it be wrong for you to do so? While you might not be the one swinging the sword you still would be the whistleblower. Abstaining from the killing blow would make you no less guilty. And did he truly deserve it? Had Lucerys deserved it? "No." You mumbled to yourself. Lucerys had taken Aemond's eye. But was it right? You thought of the little boy who hid behind his mother after he maimed Aemond. You had never felt pity for him. All you saw was the little bastard to mocked and maimed Aemond as a child. How could such a person be worthy of sympathy? Now that you thought about it, Lucerys had the slight marking for boyhood on his features. Just as Vaeron did. No! You could not think like that. You would be turning your back on family and your child if you did this. And for what? Two boys who meant nothing to you.

It was night outside. Lady Alana was asleep in your bed. Quietly you padded across the wooden floor, your thoughts like thunderous bells. You wanted to sleep so badly but could not. Your nails indented the soft skin of your hand. The moonlight cast flickering lights across the black water. You smelt its salt from up here through the open window. The crashing of the saves competed with the rustling of the trees. Like two great armies battling it out bellow. Just as two sides of yourself waged war.

Sometimes one had to make choices for the greater good. But none of this felt good. The letter lay on a table near the fire. You were oh so tempted to burn it to ashes and never revisit it again. But that damn nagging whispered to you, telling you that it was your duty. Duty bound you to loyalty. Loyalty ensured that forever your fate would be with your house. The sound of the trees went out and the waves overtook them. By the morning you had made your choice.

"He should be put to death." The words fell out of your mouth. Jason Lannister looked surprised at your words. "I would never have imagined such a thing could come from you, Lady wife." You tried to play it off as something simply to be done. "Such is war." Was all that passed from your chapped lips. Jason Lannister reached for some parchment. He wrote several sentences and then ceiled it with wax before summoning a maester. "The King is of the same mind." This did nothing to assure you of what was going to happen. The wax cooling on the parchment eerily reminded you of blood.

Even there everything seemed to speed up. A gallows had been erected in the front of the castle. But nevertheless there was to be a show of it. And Jason Lannister had one last dramatic flair. The Battle of the Gullet, as they called it, hailed a black victory. But Jaecerys, heir to Rhaenyra, was dead. At eighteen he was shot full of arrows and sunk into the sea with his dragon. Vaeron was not yet informed that now he was heir. Though not for much longer. The day was cold and all you could hear was the crashing of waves. The forest on the other hand, was completely still. You can under a canopy, decked out in splendor. Like a true Lannister you looked. Vaeron was lead out in chain, thin and gaunt looking. Yet he had on his bearing an admirable amount of bravery. More than you would have had. He was forced to stand before a crown of lords and ladies. You wondered if his mother knew by now. Consciously your hand went to your own belly. "Vaeron. You stand here a condemned traitor to the crown. Do you have any last words to say?" Jason Lannister stood tall beside you. "My mother and brother shall avenge you. And so my death goes with no apology." Jason Lannister let out a loud that chilled the bones. "Only your mother I am afraid. Your brother went down with his dragon in battle." Vaeron's façade faltered. "You are as much a liar as your wore-mongering King. Although he is doing less of that these days from what I hear." Jason Lannister beckoned and a large piece of fabric was brought. Or at least that was what you thought until it got closer. The hide of Jaecerys's dragon had been shorn off and was now grasped in Jason Lannister's hands.

The wail that Vaeron let out made all the breath in your body escape. Any feeling you once possessed had fled. You could not even look at he screamed curses in his language. His cries revealed the deepest anguish one could posses. His brother and prince was gone. And at this time there had been no opportunity to avenge him. No. Not this time around. You could not even look as they dragged him to the place and his head way lain down. It was only when that dreadful screaming stopped did you know that Vaeron, the only possible trueborn son of Rhaenyra Targaryen, was dead.

You were a caterpillar in your dreams. A bright green colour that encased your body. Above you soared a blue butterfly that beat its winds high in the sky. You looked up and wished to join it. But you could not. And then a thunderous voice broke across the sky and the butterfly was only smoke.

You did not wake up in fear. Instead an intense sadness spoke to you that morning. You walked over to the window and opened it. Only the waves could be heard. You slipped on shoes and a cloak before slipping out. Celebrations could be heard from the great hall. Such was a time when butchery was celebrated and men were cruel. You stepped out onto the grass outside through a hidden door and walked towards the sept. It was empty although not of contents. Lonely candles sat at the feet of the Seven. You just stood there and thought. Then thoughts of fealty prevailed and you turned away.

You would burn no candles for Lucerys or Vaeron tonight.

Note: So we have a chapter without Ellyn or Aemond in it. But that won't last very long. So I know that the reader feels a bit off this chapter since she is fairly extroverted and mingling amongst her ladies. In my mind the reader is extroverted in nature but really only gravitates to a few people.

Also sorry for the late update the past few weeks have been busy. Also I reworked some parts of this chapter because I was not happy with it. I wanted to get into why Y/n was so loyal to her house despite everything. We have to remember that in those times fealty to ones house was everything and to not due so was very taboo. Part of the reason why the dance of the dragons was so horrible was due to the fact that so much kinslaying took place.

Also you-know-who is showing up next chapter!

If you want to join the taglist please let me known!

@daenerysqueenofhearts

@le-petit-lulu

@aemondswifeisme

@mandiiblanche

@gknj9495

@minakay

@strangersunghoon

@iilsenewman

@moonlightfoxx

104 notes · View notes

gabessquishytum · 1 year

Note

dream retires and becomes a human, which makes him a /lot/ more vulnerable to other supernatural entities than before. he's not really killable, of course, because he's immortal like hob, but putting a (possibly well deserved) curse or hex on him is far easier than it was before. this isn't too much of a problem for him to avoid until a succubus gets its claws into him and decides that if they ever use his form while having sex (which may or may not be...often,), he feels it too. its only natural that hes entirely humiliated by this, so he keeps it a secret from hob-- or at the very least he tries to until one day hob comes home to their shared flat to see dream writing on the ground in some mix of pleasure and pain

(would dream just let himself enjoy it?? debatable. i think he'd totally just try to like. wait it out. and ends up sitting at his desk with a raging hard on for an hour until it goes away because he refuses to "stoop so low." he may worry his dick will fall off)

This is absolutely the kind of this that WOULD happen to Dream. Poor little wet cat. The idea of him getting sex magicked is a little bit hilarious.

Of course the sensible thing would be to tell someone. Literally anyone. Johanna would help! Or he could tell the man who he literally lives with! But the humiliation is too much to bear, so he tries to hide it. When he gets an attack of pleasurable sensations while Hob is around, he just sits very still on the sofa, or runs off to take a very long shower. But when Hob is out, he allows himself to at least express the sensations even though he refuses to enjoy them. Hence, Hob finds him rolling around on the floor.

Hob immediately gets down on Dream’s level to assess the problem and try to help, but when he touches Dream he just moans and starts humping the floor. He doesn't seem able to speak properly. It actually takes Hob a little bit to work out that Dream isn't in pain - he's just ragingly horny.

Hob scoops him up from the floor and carries him off to his bedroom while poor Dream is caught between tears of utter embarrassment and a crucial need to rub his cock against Hob’s stomach. He ends up doing a combination of both until Hob lays him gently on the bed, strips him naked and... cuddles him.

Because Dream is obviously in no state to consent, but he obviously also needs body contact, so Hob is going to cuddle him until he's in a more lucid state of mind. Of course Dream grows more and more horrified by himself as the hex slowly loosens, and he tries to pretend to be asleep but Hob can feel him sobbing.

After he's finally coaxed into a conversation Dream admits to what has happened to him. He also admits that he thought his dick might fall off. Hob is very very good at not laughing at any of it. He promises to get rid of the nasty succubus which obviously deserves to perish for causing Dream such discomfort. He also promises that no one's dick is falling off.

And Dream cracks a tiny, tiny smile.

Hob is also feeling a little bit braver than usual (since he actually has Dream in his arms, in bed) and he does ask if maybe Dream would like to try some sex without the influence of the succubus. Its cool if the answer is no but if yes he's offering his services!!

Of course it's an emphatic yes. Which gives Hob a very good incentive to hunt down that monster, so he can finally make sexy sappy love to his poor wet cat of a Dream <3

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft

75 notes · View notes

jobrker · 9 days

Text

the bird's gonna make the wedding bed

Summary: She does not want a wedding night. Anthony is gentle with her and whispers to her that they can wait as long as she wants to. There's no rush from him. Johanna leans into her husband's words, savoring them, but she isn't prepared for all of the ups and downs that come with having--or attempts at having--a wedding night. Warnings: past csa/sexual abuse/sexual assault, implied anorexia (restrictive type), period-typical misogyny, pregnancy, and childbirth. Read on: Ao3 Preview:

She does not want a wedding night.

On a gray day in the middle of November, the housekeeper came in with a grave expression on her face. She took in her tilted brows and somber lips (had someone fallen ill? Her governess? Or worse, had someone died? The governess? A maid? The judge? ). The housekeeper, Mrs. Eastman told her to sit back down as she took a set on the bed across from where Johanna was sitting on her spare chair.

“Mrs. Eastman–” Johanna began before getting interrupted.

“Do you remember the day you first got your monthly?”

Monthly? What did that have to do with, well, anything ? Brows purse. The day she got her monthly, she woke up with blood on her nightdress. When she realized where the blood came from, she assumed she was dying. No one ever told her about an illness where you can die from bleeding out from there , but she couldn’t deny it’s shameful existence. Johanna padded her underskirts with a sheet she’d “accidently” torn and waddled about her room for the rest of the day. In an out-of-character objection, she politely said she wasn’t interested in taking a walk that day. Her governess’s eyebrows shot up at that. She knew so little about her care, but knew she enjoyed her little tastes of freedom. It wasn’t until the laundry was done that anyone realized what a humiliating disease God was subjecting her to. It was then someone explained to her that this was entirely normal for members of the female sex. That it would happen once a month .

But most of all, she learned it wasn’t a topic for polite conversation. Or for any conversation at all.

Johanna’s fingers reached to tug on a stray curl. “Yes?”

Mrs. Eastman drummed her fingers on her knee. The sound of fingertips hitting fabric was agonizing. “There is more to it that you ought to know of. Concerning your impending womanhood.”

“More to it?”

Becoming a woman seemed to be the only positive of the situation. Johanna considers herself to be a young lady now. The concept seemed simple enough. A woman bleeds for roughly a week then is able to move on with her life until the next month. A girl stays at home during that time (or in Johanna’s case, another week, then another, and another…). A horrible price to pay, but how else could God punish womankind for Eve’s first transgression?

“Yes. You see...” Mrs. Eastman tilted her head to the side, then back again, trying to figure out the best way to articulate this to a young girl. “Do you know why this happens to women in the first place and not to the men?”

“Because of Eve...?”

“That is why we experience pain.” She straightened her spine to the point where it has to be straighter than a ruler. “The bleeding stops once a woman discovers that she is going to have a baby.”

“A baby?”

Eyes grew wider and wider as the process was explained to her. Mrs. Eastman was no-nonsense. A proud woman who sat with her back like a needle despite the fact that she was not born into the middle-class. It was explained in a tone that did not beetle Johanna, but made it clear that she is still much too young for such activity. Johanna’s cheeks were bright red and fingers numb. People enjoy such a thing? Well, the women not as much, it is not about their enjoyment, but the men? They could enjoy... that?

The only thing she really gets out of the conversation is that the bleeding must go away for that since the woman has finally contributed something: a child.

After asking if she had more questions (which Johanna didn’t; she wanted the conversation to end sooner), Mrs. Eastman gave a nod and left Johanna to try to wrap her mind around what is supposed to happen during one’s wedding night. Perhaps, if that is what happens, she didn’t want to be married at all. But then, she would be trapped with the judge forever if she does not marry. She loses either way.

Read the rest on ao3

#sweeney todd #johanna barker #anthony hope #anthony x johanna #johanna barker x anthony hope #sweeney todd the demon barber of fleet street #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #this work is several months old now but it's my favorite okay

7 notes · View notes

mizutabisocks · 4 months

Text

This scene is taking place at Eiji's Forge in Episode 7 Johanna was brought there by Ringo after Episode 6 after seeing her washed ashore due to her insubordination in not killing Mizu before the swordsman came through the 9 levels of the castle,Ringo had mercy on Johanna due to feeling like he owed her after sparing his life during Episode 3 with Okiyama was poisoned by snowcap,she let the cook go,but this is the first scene of Johanna and Mizu being face to face since their last fight... Johanna sees Mizu and Mizu sees Johanna,as they glare at each other,johanna says with a tone of hate and a grudge “Samurai….” Mizu steps in,but he is unarmed,as his sword was broken,as Johanna cracked her neck and began to stretch her arms,Mizu then says “Fowler’s Lapdog…” As Johanna walked up to Mizu ominously as the two stared each other down “Let us have a round 3 then Samurai,I regret not seeing you at Fowler’s Castle…” Mizu responds with a cocky tone “Well…it’s great to see the results of Fowler’s punishment on your…” Mizu touched his own nose in a mocking way to Johanna,and Johanna gritted her teeth,running her finger along the scar on her own chest that the samurai gave her Mizu saw this doing a two handed strike to Johanna’s ribs with full force knocking the French woman back into the Forge,Johanna then got up socking Mizu in the face and automatically drawing a bloody nose,as Mizu dodged her second punch and kicked her in the shin,he then delivered a uppercut,sending Johanna fartherback,to the rack of all the swords,Johanna was sick of being humiliated by this Samurai,she reached for two Katana’s grabbing them,trying to get a feel for them,doing some spins on each hand “Oh Mon Dieu!! So these are what you Samurai’s use?” She clangs them together in a X,as the ring echo throughout the small hut,Mizu then responds “Put those down…you are not worthy of those…” Mizu was kind of concerned because those where her masters blades,they have been there since her childhood and now Johanna is wielding them in a attempt to kill the samurai “Those don’t belong to you…bitch…” Johanna looked at you then shrugged,Throwing the Katana like a knife at Mizu as it stuck in the wall and Mizu grabbed the hilt,and Johanna grabbed the hilt of the sword she took “Oh C’mon Cher…we are just having a little spar…it just ends with his death” Johanna says to you Mizu says back to her “I should of went for your damn head…I hesitated when I fought you,I won’t do that again…” Mizu moved in to strike Johanna as Johanna deflected the sword to late and Mizu’s blade cut Johanna’s shoulder as Johanna let out a pained yell,she grew angry,and kept swinging the katana improperly with one arm,Mizu deflecting most of them as they clashed swords,Johanna pushing down on Mizu’s sword,as their foreheads touched during battle,Johanna then shoulder rammed Mizu knocking him to the ground,then Johanna gripped the sword and brought it down on Mizu,but it was besides the Samurai’s head,Johanna lets out a laugh “I beat you Samurai!”

Will be continued in Part 2...

#blue eye samurai #bes #mizu blue eye samurai #bes mizu #mizu #johanna_bes #original character #mizu fanart #mizu x oc #bes oc #oc x canon

7 notes · View notes

kining-the-evil · 1 year

Text

Building My Kinktober Masterlist And These Are The Days I have Filled Out

If you have an idea for a character for any of the days, send in an ask! Check my masterlist for characters/fandoms I write for

Cockwarming-Sam Carpenter(Scream

Edging-James Wilson(House MD)

Knife Play-Tara Carpenter(Scream)

Phone Sex-Billy Loomis(Scream)

Mutual Masturbation-James Wilson(House MD)

Gagged-Finnick Odair(The Hunger Games)

Marking/Hickeys-Daisy Johnson(Agents of Shield)

Uniform- Bucky Barnes(The Avengers)

Dumbification- Jason Dean(Heathers)

CNC- Stu Macher(Scream)

Thigh Ridding- Kate Bishop(The Avengers)

Overstimulation- Greg House(House MD)

Dirty Talk- Valkyrie(The Avengers)

Bondage-Natasha Romanoff(The Avengers)

Ruined Orgasm-Johanna Mason(The Hunger Games)

Dacryphilia- Haymitch Aberdeen

Breeding-James Wilson(House MD)

Humiliation/Degration-Katniss Everdeen(The Hunger Games)

Gun Play-Jason Dean(Heathers Movie)

Praise- Peggy Carter(Agent Carter)

Spit- Billy Loomis(Scream)

Sex Pollin-Leo Fitz(Agents of Shield)

Somnophilia- Loki(The Avengers)

Car Sex-Daisy Johnson(Agents Of Shield)

Mirror Sex- Randy Meeks(Scream)

Lactation- DILF!Dewey Riley(Scream)

Cum Play- Scott Lang(The Avengers)

Purity- Chad Meeks Martin(Scream)

Pet Play-Stu Macher(Scream)

Double Penetration- Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers(The Avengers)

Dry Humping- Randy Meeks(Scream)

#scream #scream 1996 #house md #heathers movie #knives out #agent carter #agents of shield #the avengers #the hunger games #kinktober #kinktober 2023

27 notes · View notes

katnissdoesnotfollowback · 2 years

Text

Pajama Day

A bit of frivolous Tuesday morning fun on this dreary day for my darling friend and editor, buttercupbadass. Hehehe. Rated T for shenanigans and innuendo. And also for Finnick and Johanna.

***

With a quiet curse, Peeta stuffs his clothes back in the drawer and slams it shut. It’s pajama day at work. This is meant to be fun, and he’s about ready to tear out his hair because he forgot. Finnick’s text this morning, the rather cryptic and vaguely ominous Gird your loins! I’m rockin’ my jammies! 😁 reminded Peeta.

Followed by a final round of heckling: Don’t you dare wimp out on me.

Maybe that was Finnick begging. Either way, Peeta reluctantly dug up his favorite sleep pants — a soft blue flannel with fat, fluffy sheep numbered and jumping over croissants set up like fences. Why? Who cares. He thought they were funny and bought them right before graduating college. But now he can’t find the top.

He didn’t sleep well last night. He hasn’t slept well in several nights. With a sigh, he grabs a stray long sleeve tee that might work with the colors and drags his tired and stressed out ass into the bathroom to brush his teeth and change.

Once he’s ready, he checks his phone to see if he’s missed any calls or texts, his face heating with humiliation when there are none. Still.

He needs to stop obsessively checking. He wishes she’d at least tell him what he did wrong. Why they flipped from searingly hot to silently frigid so damn fast. He wishes it didn’t feel like someone shoved broken shards of glass into his chest and left them to fester. But he’d thought… it doesn’t matter anymore what he thought.

“It’s only been a few days, Mellark,” he grumbles at himself, grabs his keys, his coffee in his bright orange tumbler, tucks his phone in his bag, and leaves his apartment.

***

The office is abuzz with laughter and cheerful chatter, and Katniss is grateful for the calming presence of Annie, their HR rep, standing beside her by the coffee station as they sip their morning fortifying brew. Of course, Annie somehow manages to look stunning, even in sleep wear while Katniss absently tugs at the hem of the cozy shirt she’s wearing, surreptitiously glancing down to make sure the t-shirt she’s wearing under the overlay large sleep shirt adequately covers her. No cleavage still, thankfully. It’s still long enough to cover her butt and make the leggings she’s wearing somewhat professional looking, but she keeps freaking out, thinking it must’ve shrunk in the past five minutes since she last checked.

“Ugh, this is a nightmare,” Annie mutters and Katniss peels a stray hair from where it sticks to the flannel of her shirt and tosses it in the trash can. “I’m going to be handling so many sexual harassment claims later.”

“Then why’d you agree to it?”

“Paylor made a convincing case,” Annie whines slightly. “And besides, I wanted an excuse to wear my slippers rather than heels.”

Katniss snorts and they toast to that with their coffees. “It’d help if Johanna hadn’t shown up like…” Katniss trails off, blushing and unable to finish her sentence.

“In nothing but a robe tied loose enough she can accurately claim ‘Tits out work day?’” Annie snarks and shakes her head. “I think her goal was to get me to send her home for the day.”

Katniss laughs slightly. Little did Johanna know, Annie came prepared with a bag stuffed full of accouterments to turn any highly inappropriate ensembles into something more conducive to fostering the fun atmosphere their bosses intended to create with this shenanigan.

A commotion near the xerox grabs their attention and Katniss scowls as, through the glass wall enclosing the break room, she spots the unmistakable copper hair of Finnick Odair floating along between a sudden swarm of people greeting him.

“Now what did Finnick do?” Katniss asks and Annie sighs.

“I’m almost afraid to find out.”

They don’t have to wait long. The sea of raging humanity parts, allowing Finnick into the break room and he grins at the pair. Annie chokes on her coffee and Katniss feels her jaw hitting the floor.

“Ladies,” Finnick drawls with the smirk of someone who knows he’s caused a ruckus. He struts into the room, wedging himself between them to get to the coffee. Katniss tears her eyes away from the sight of him, his Caribbean blue, satin pajama pants that cling to his body in an indecent manner and his chest…

“Finnick, shouldn’t you be wearing a shirt, maybe?” Katniss manages to strangle out because Annie still hasn’t said a word.

“Why? Do you find this…. Distracting?”

Finnick strikes a provocative pose and Katniss tries not to die of laughter on the spot.

“I’m only human, Odair.”

He grins at her and Katniss bites the inside of her cheek, feeling lighter than she has in days. Joking around with Finnick has that effect on her, and Katniss is grateful for it after how rough the past few days have been. Ever since… well.

But Annie still hasn’t said a word. Darting her eyes over, Katniss finds her friend seething, gripping her coffee cup with murder in her eyes.

“Is this because I made you sit through that meeting about the issue?”

“Are you suggesting that I would flaunt this physique as revenge?”

“Yes, I am. And if you are, it’s highly unprofessional and just goes to prove I was right.” Annie fumbles in her bag then shoves a shirt into his hands. “Put on a damn shirt, Finnick.”

She stalks out of the room and Finnick sighs, but he quickly pulls on the shirt. Then he gives Katniss a weak grin and heads towards his own desk.

“What was that about?” Katniss asks the room, bewildered.

“She made him sit down with a neutral party HR rep from a sister branch,” Peeta says beside her and Katniss jumps, her cheeks heating as he apologizes and she moves slightly so he can get to the creamer he prefers after refilling his travel mug.

“Why?” Katniss manages to ask around the sudden lump in her throat.

Peeta gives her an odd look before saying quietly, “Because it’s company policy to have a conference with an HR rep if you engage in an interoffice relationship.”

“Oh.”

Katniss slides further away from the coffee machine as Wiress wanders in, humming to herself as she fills her mug. Peeta moves aside with her, still screwing the lid onto his mug.

“Thought you were gonna wear that onesie Prim gave you for your birthday.”

“The duck tail thing… made my ass look big,” she mutters and swishes her coffee in her mug, watching the tiny whirlpool settle when she stops.

“Ah,” Peeta says quietly. It annoys her, his nonchalance. Shouldn’t he… say something? After Friday she thought he’d be breaking down her door for answers or something.

Her eyes wander over the floor towards him and widen as she sees the pants he’s wearing. Her gaze jumps up to his face and she finds him staring at her already, only unlike the first few months they worked together, he doesn’t look away.

“I thought you weren’t gonna dress up at all? Didn’t feel like it, you said.”

Peeta shrugs. “Finnick begged.”

“Oh. Right.”

“And then I wasn’t going to because all I had clean were these and I remembered we… well, I couldn’t find the top,” he says. Then he reaches towards her and her breath catches in her throat as he plucks at the collar of the shirt she’s wearing. “Found it.”

Katniss bites her lip, all the words welling up inside her as she can’t look away and all her fears suddenly seem sillier than his goofy pajama top she stole the first night she stayed over at his place and they… well. She swallows and grips tight to her mug.

“We should go talk to Annie today,” she finally says.

“You think?” Annie says from the doorway. Katniss and Peeta jump apart, like school children caught being naughty. Behind her, Finnick is gleefully dancing in his pajamas, the top Annie forced on him unbuttoned and flapping as he moves.

#words are peetas thing not mine #everlark fanfic #goofy and fluffy #and i regret nothing #enjoy!

91 notes · View notes