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feitanii-ll · 23 days ago

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∘ ˚𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝟰 𝗬𝗢𝗨!!

(nanami, kento x fem!reader)

(fluff)

nothing will alter the suffocating love and passion that nanami kento feels for his wife. practically joined to the hip, kento is to his wife like a moth to a flame— pushing and pursuing this shining star (being you), blindly and aimlessly, simply because he loves you, and wants to give you his all. show you that, God, you're all his. whether it's rubbing your feet after a long day of work (even after trying to convince you that you can stay home because he can do enough for the both of you to provide), or mumbling soft words into your shoulder as you hover over the stove to cook your shared dinner, sending your order of a chicken sandwich and avocado salad to your work for lunch— kento will do anything for his wife. his soul. his other half.

and he stands on that. very rarely does kento ever say no to you. how could he ever? you wanna eat there? it's always yes, baby. you're thinking about getting that shirt? yeah, baby, here's the card. take it to the register. can you call out of work? yes, honey. do you even have to ask? you're so sweet to him. so polite and loving, he wants to give you the world. he can't find himself in any situation in which he would say no.

except now...

"oh, would you just look at them," kento hears your praise for the umpteenth time in the 30 minutes you've been staring into the orangized array of fishtanks, the neon lights of the decorated aquatic home displaying on your skin as you get face to face with a multitude of dead-eyes gold fish. a petshop. a petshop of all places, he had to take you. in the background, there's the chittering of birds, bubbling of aquatic tanks and the occasional bark! from the vet center that's connected to the place.

"they're just so cute..." he hears you mutter. he knows you're playing it off as mumbling to yourself, when in reality, you want him to feel bad that he's yet to having said yes to buying the entire tank. or the other animals that were scattered amongst the store. "I wish we could have a tank..." you sigh dramatically, to which your husband groans in exasperation.

"sweetheart, please. you're making this very difficult for me." he sighs, running a rough hand over his face, rubbing the inner corners of his eyes with the pads of his thumb and index. "you don't know how to take care of them." he tells you in the most respectful way he can to his wife.

"I could learn, kenny," you whip around to face him "look at them!"

he looks tired and unimpressed. distressed, even, as he's fighting the desire to say yes and just buy the damn fish. and he could almost cry at how you stamp your foot lightly on the tiled floor in desperation to get him to understand, "they're so cute! look at them, kento. they're all squished in the tank and stuff." God, you're cute.

"they're fine, honey," he watches as you turn back to the tank and observe the small fish again, resting a hand on your shoulder to give it a reassuring squeeze. "they get taken care of. see?" he nod his head over to an unsuspecting worker nearby who was restocking the mini-fride of fish food. "safe and sound, dear. I'm sure they like it here." he doesn't know that.

"but they need a home.."

"you said that about the birds, my love." he smiles a little, lifting a brow in confusion.

"that still stands!" he watches you nod firmly, and for once, his princess was making it hard to not be that unrelenting-in-giving husband he strives to be.

"honey, I know you want them, but.. I'm certain you don't know a thing about taking care of fish," you go to cut him off, ready to protest, but he makes an 'aht aht ' sound, lifting a finger to stop you, to which you deflate.

"or birds. or hamsters, or rats, or, goddamn, my love, definitely not a tarantula." he reminds, referring to how just a few minutes ago, you were gushing over the fuzzy creature in its tank. "you just asked me to kill a spider for you last week. you'd hurt the poor thing." he explains, never getting angry or annoyed with you. his tone is that ever so gentle wave of sounds that you adore.

"—and I'd settle on getting you a bird, but they need lots of care, as do all pets. we're both too busy for that, now, aren't we?" kento hums, cupping your cheek and caressing with the pads of his thumb as he sees the look of disappointment on your pretty features.

"when we're truly, truly ready, dear— we can think about it more in depth. but don't get the animal simply because that big heart of yours is wanting to give them a home. it'll be alllright." he hums again, and you pout, knowing that there's a mountain of truth in his words.

you sigh, glancing away from the fishtank and leaning into his chest. he doesn't hesitate to wrap an arm around your shoulder, allowing you your right as his wife to smell that thick cologne that makes your head go all fuzzy and warm.

"there we are.." his voice drops an octive when you relent, silently agreeing to his point. "you're alright, mama. I know you've got a big heart. one day, baby, okay? just not today."

kento feels a sense of emptiness in telling you no, and he knows it's because the concept is so foreign to him. you're his princess. and, if he was irresponsible with his love for you (which, he is) he'd give you every animal in the shop your little heart desires.

"a rabbit..?" your voice snaps him out of his through as he begins to lead you out of the shop.

"hm?" the glances down at you, pushing the double doors open, waving briefly to to cashier who greets the two of you goodbye before his attention is on you again.

"a rabbit, kento? if we ever get the chance?" you ask, so so sweetly. he's a weak man for his wife.

"yes, sweetheart." he sigh with a knowing smile on his face. "yes. we'll look into it."

your smile is wide when you feel his soft lips against your cheek. you slip your hands out of the pockets of your hoodie, wrapping your arms around his middle as you both walk away towards the car.

"'kay.. love you, kento." you remind him. he chuckles, and the sound goes straight to your tummy, dropping and erupting in a cloud of butterflies.

"thank you, baby," he leans over your back, opening the car door for you, dipping his head down to kiss between your neck and shoulder as he does. "I love you more. you know that, yes?"

"yes, kento." you respond, tone wavering. he preens at your shy smile, and you have to make your way into the car, feeling that the pet mart parking lot was much too public for the display of affection.

"good. let's go home, baby." he shuts the car door.

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might be late to the nanami party, but hi.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader fluff #jjk x reader fluff #nanami kento x reader #kento nanami x reader #nanami x reader #nanami x reader fluff #kento x reader #kento x reader fluff #kento nanami x reader fluff #jjk x fem!reader #jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader #fem!reader #feitanii ll

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seafarersdream · 2 months ago

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Scaly Tales | Modern AU! (Aemond Targaryen x Y/N)

Y/N works at her dad’s reptile shop, but only because he’s currently out of town. She, on the other hand, is stuck with snakes, lizards, and things that make her skin crawl. To be clear: she hates reptiles. They terrify her. One day, in strolls Aemond Targaryen — tall, brooding, and way too attractive for someone who’s genuinely interested in a green iguana named Vhagar. Word count: 4,1k

TW // Strong language and profanities, mild innuendos, potentially dangerous animal encounters, alcohol consumption (beer).

“I swear to god, if that thing comes anywhere near me, I'm quitting my own dad's shop.”

Y/N muttered to herself, fingers clutching the edge of the glass counter as if it might somehow protect her from the green menace that stared at her from across the room.

Vhagar, the reptile shop’s resident iguana, was perched regally on her branch like she owned the place. Which, honestly, she probably did. The shop, Scaly Tales, was a low-key nightmare of flicking tongues, beady eyes, and the occasional hiss that sent shivers down her spine. The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed with an irritating hum, casting a sickly yellow glow over the rows of terrariums lining the walls.

Y/N tapped her foot impatiently, glancing at the clock. Another five hours until closing. Five hours of trying not to look too closely at the boa constrictor named Smaug or the tarantula in the corner that she swore was plotting her demise.

Just as she was contemplating the merits of accidentally leaving the door unlocked and letting all the reptiles escape into the wild, the bell over the door jingled. She looked up, more out of instinct than interest, and nearly choked on her own breath.

In walked a guy who looked like he’d been carved out of marble and decided to slum it on a random Wednesday afternoon. Tall, lean, with silvery-blonde hair that was braided. He had a scar running down his left cheek that made him look like he’d survived a pirate raid or, at the very least, a really bad skateboarding accident. He was dressed in all black and had a single silver earring shaped like a tiny dragon.

Y/N blinked. Twice.

“Uh, can I help you?” she finally managed, voice higher-pitched than she intended.

The guy glanced around, his one visible eye narrowing as if assessing the situation. “Doubt it,” he muttered, though there was a hint of a smirk on his lips. He had a voice like whiskey over gravel, the kind that made you want to lean in closer just to catch every word.

Y/N scowled. “Right. Well, the exit’s behind you if you’re lost.”

He chuckled, low and throaty. “Nah, not lost. Just… curious.”

“About?” She crossed her arms, feeling the sharp edge of her dad’s old Scaly Tales polo shirt dig into her skin.

He didn’t answer right away, instead, his gaze drifted past her to Vhagar, who was still sitting on her branch, blinking slowly as if she couldn’t give less of a shit about the entire interaction. “That iguana,” the guy finally said, pointing with a finger adorned with silver rings. “What’s its name?”

Y/N’s arched an eyebrow in confusion but answered anyway. “Her name’s Vhagar”

The guy’s smirk grew. “Curious choice.”

“Don’t ask. I wasn’t the one who named her,” she said, drawing out the word.

He took a step closer to the counter, and for a moment, Y/N’s heart did a weird little jump, like it was trying to hop out of her chest. “I was wondering,” he continued, “if you were looking for help around here.”

“Help?” She snorted. “Mate, you do realize this is a reptile shop, right? It’s no Canary Wharf.”

His grin widened, and he leaned against the counter, one hand casually slipping into the pocket of what clearly looks like a bespoke trousers. “Yeah, I got that. I’m not here for the pay. Just… interested.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, suspicion creeping into her voice. “Interested in what exactly? Because, no offense, you don’t look like the type who’s into snakes and lizards.”

He shrugged, a movement that seemed annoyingly graceful. “You got me there. Not into snakes. But I’ve got a thing for iguanas.”

She let out a laugh before she could stop herself. “Of course, you do. Why?”

He tilted his head slightly, considering her with that one piercing blue eye that looks unnervingly purple-ish from some angles. “I like that they’re a bit… prickly. Takes a certain kind of patience to handle them. To make them trust you.”

Y/N felt her cheeks warm, and she was suddenly very aware of the fact that she hadn’t done her hair this morning and was probably wearing yesterday's eyeliner smudges. “Alright, fine,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant. “You can… I don’t know, volunteer or something. Just don’t get bitten or sue us, yeah?”

He straightened up, looking genuinely pleased for the first time since he walked in. “Deal,” he said, offering his hand.

She eyed his hand like it was a venomous snake. “Name?”

“Aemond,” he replied, his smile turning a little softer, almost boyish. “Aemond Targaryen.”

She stared at him, momentarily stunned by the sheer poshness of it. “Of course, it is.”

He chuckled again. “And you are?”

“Y/N L/N,” she said, shaking his hand reluctantly. His grip was firm, his skin cool against hers. She quickly pulled away, trying not to feel like a teenager meeting their crush for the first time.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said smoothly. “Now, tell me… how do I win over Vhagar?”

She snorted. “Mate, I’ve been trying to figure that out for weeks. Good luck.”

He glanced back at the iguana, who was still watching them with what could only be described as supreme indifference. “Challenge accepted.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. “Yeah, alright, Mr. Targaryen. Let’s see what you’re made of.”

As it turns out, Aemond was a bloody animal whisperer.

Y/N watched, slack-jawed and barely breathing, as he casually stuck his hand into Smaug’s terrarium — Smaug, the fifteen-foot boa constrictor with a temper that could put any football hooligan to shame. The snake, instead of latching onto Aemond’s arm and turning him into a human-sized chew toy, just… rested its head in his hand like a sodding pet cat.

“Oh, come on,” Y/N muttered under her breath, feeling a mixture of disbelief and, okay, maybe a bit of annoyance. "Seriously?"

Aemond glanced over his shoulder, that ever-present smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Something wrong?" he asked, and there was no mistaking the amusement in his voice.

“Yeah, loads,” she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. “Starting with the fact that you seem to have some weird Snow White powers over these things.”

He chuckled, a deep, rich sound that somehow made her stomach flip. “It’s not that hard,” he said, still scratching Smaug’s head with his fingers. “You just have to understand them. Respect them.”

Y/N scoffed. “Respect them? Right. And what, exactly, do I need to respect about the tarantula that tried to jump at my face this morning?”

Aemond straightened up, moving away from the terrarium, and headed toward the tarantula’s glass enclosure. “Arachne?” he asked, his tone teasing. “She’s just misunderstood.”

“Misunderstood?” Y/N echoed, incredulous. “Mate, she’s got eight legs and hairy fangs. She’s the stuff of nightmares.”

Aemond turned to face her fully, leaning against the counter with a look that said he was enjoying this far too much. “You don’t really like being here, do you?” he asked, eyes narrowing slightly as if studying her.

Y/N felt a flush creep up her neck. She shifted from one foot to the other. “I’m not here by choice, alright?” she confessed. “My dad owns the shop, and he’s off gallivanting in Glasgow, so I’m stuck running this freak show until he gets back.”

Aemond’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “Ah, so you’re just here to keep the peace?”

“Something like that,” she muttered. “If peace is what you call feeding dead mice to snakes and hoping they don’t escape in the night.”

He laughed again, a real laugh this time, not just a smirk or a chuckle, and Y/N found herself almost… liking the sound of it. “You’ve got nothing to worry about,” he said, a hint of softness in his voice. “They won’t bite unless they’re scared. And they’re only scared if you are.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, that’s reassuring,” she grumbled, but a small smile tugged at her lips despite herself.

Aemond pushed off the counter and walked slowly towards her, his steps measured and confident. “Tell you what,” he said, lowering his voice slightly, like he was sharing a secret. “I’ll handle the scary ones. You just… look cute behind the counter.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped, and she felt her face go warm. “Oi!” she sputtered. “I am not… cute. I’m the manager here.”

He grinned, clearly delighted with her flustered reaction. “Right, of course. Very professional. Your dad must be proud.”

She gave him a half-hearted glare, but she couldn’t deny that there was something oddly charming about the way he was looking at her, like he found her reaction endlessly entertaining. “You know, I could just kick you out,” she threatened, trying to sound stern.

Aemond leaned in a little closer, a playful glint in his eye. “But then who would deal with Vhagar?” he asked, nodding towards the iguana, who had finally decided to grace them with a slight head tilt.

Y/N sighed, exasperated. “Fine, fine. You can stay,” she grumbled, waving a hand. “But only because Vhagar seems to like you.”

He nodded solemnly. “A wise decision, Ms. Manager.”

She rolled her eyes again but couldn’t help the grin that broke free. “Yeah, yeah, don’t get too comfortable, Prince Charming. This isn’t some Disney movie.”

Aemond flashed her a grin that was all trouble. “Don’t worry, love. I think I can handle a bit of drama.”

Y/N snorted. “Trust me, mate, you have no idea what you’ve signed up for.”

He gave her a mock bow, and she couldn’t help but laugh, a lightness in her chest that she hadn’t felt in ages.

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The next morning, right at 10, just as Y/N was flipping the sign on the door from “Closed” to “Open,” the bell above the door jingled. She looked up, expecting to see some bored teenager or one of the usual reptile enthusiasts, but there he was — Aemond Targaryen, in the flesh.

He strolled in like he owned the place, wearing a crisp white button-up under a dark green wool coat, the kind that probably cost more than her rent. His hair was flowing freely in a way that looked both effortless and like it required some absurdly expensive product. He had an aura about him, like he was about to walk into a high-profile board meeting rather than a slightly dingy reptile shop.

“Morning,” he greeted, flashing that infuriatingly charming grin.

Y/N squinted at him, still half-asleep and clutching her cup of coffee like it was a life raft. “You’re back,” she said flatly, as if she was stating the obvious. Which, of course, she was.

Aemond chuckled. “What, did you think I’d scare off after one day?”

She shrugged, turning back to the counter to hide her smile. “Wouldn’t blame you if you did. Not exactly Westminster around here, is it?”

“Maybe not,” he said, moving closer and glancing around, “but it’s got… character.”

Y/N snorted. “That’s one way to put it.”

He didn’t seem to mind the sarcastic jab. Instead, he started rolling up the sleeves of his pristine white shirt, exposing the tattoos that ran up his forearms — dragons, of course, snaking around his skin in intricate black ink. She found herself staring, just for a second too long, before snapping her eyes back up to his face.

“So,” he said casually, “what’s on the agenda today?”

Y/N shrugged again, taking a sip of her coffee. “Well, first, we’re gonna open up the store, then do all the stuff that involves keeping these creepy crawlies alive. But you—” she pointed a finger at him “—are gonna do the heavy lifting. I’m staying a safe distance away from anything that slithers, hisses, or has more legs than I do.”

He grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “Sounds fair. I’ll take the snake duty, then.”

And he did. He moved with a surprising ease, lifting crates of feed and handling the cages like he’d been doing it for years. Y/N couldn’t help but be a little impressed. At one point, he was juggling a bag of crickets, a box of frozen mice, and a pail of water all at once.

“How are you not dropping any of that?” she asked, genuinely curious.

He flashed her a toothy grin. “Coordination, darling. Comes with practice.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a small grin. He made everything look so annoyingly easy. And he had this way of making even the most mundane tasks seem… well, not fun, but bearable, at least.

After about an hour of this, she leaned against the counter, crossing her arms. “Don’t you have anything better to do?” she asked, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the curiosity in her voice. “I mean, don’t you have a job or something?”

Aemond paused, wiping his hands on a cloth before turning to face her, his expression relaxed. “Nah,” he said with a casual shrug. “Don’t need one.”

Y/N blinked. “What, like, ever?”

He nodded. “Pretty much. My family’s loaded.”

“Loaded,” she repeated, not sure she’d heard him right. “Like, trust fund kid kind of loaded?”

He gave her a lazy smile, his eye glinting with amusement. “Something like that. My family's got more money than sense, if that gives you a clue.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And you’re here, volunteering at a reptile shop, for free?”

He leaned against the counter next to her, a bit closer than was probably necessary, but she didn’t move away. “Yeah. Thought it might be fun. Plus,” he added, lowering his voice conspiratorially, “I find your reactions quite entertaining.”

Y/N felt a blush creep up her neck and cursed herself silently. “Oh, do you now?”

He nodded, his grin widening. “Yeah. Watching you flinch every time Arachne moves is becoming quite the highlight for me.”

She huffed, crossing her arms tighter over her chest. “I’m not flinching. I’m… being cautious. That thing’s got too many legs for comfort.”

He laughed, genuinely amused. “Right, sure. Cautious. Keep telling yourself that, love.”

She glared at him, but there was no real heat in it. “So what do you actually do all day if you’re not… you know, working?”

Aemond shrugged again, as if this was the most normal conversation in the world. “Oh, I read, I go to the gym, I travel… the usual.”

“The usual?” she echoed, incredulous. “Mate, that’s not usual for most people.”

He smiled again, this time with a hint of something softer behind it. “Guess I’m not most people.”

Y/N bit back a laugh. “Clearly.” She turned back to the register, trying to ignore the way her pulse sped up just a bit whenever he looked at her like that. “Alright, posh boy. You want to hang around and be useful, fine by me. But don’t get in my way.”

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Y/N rolled her eyes again, but she couldn’t stop the smile that crept across her face.

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“Bloody hell, the turtle’s loose!”

Y/N’s shout echoed through the shop just as she was flipping the sign back to “Closed.” She spun around, her heart hammering in her chest, to see Aemond standing a few feet away, holding an empty glass enclosure door in his hand like it was some kind of weird prop.

“And that would be which one?” Aemond asked, his face a mix of concern and — was that amusement?

“Triton!” Y/N hissed, eyes wide as she scanned the floor. “The bloody snapping turtle!”

Aemond blinked, then burst into laughter. “The turtle?” he asked, still laughing. “How fast could it have gotten?”

Y/N shot him a death glare. “Fast enough, apparently! And he bites, remember? Like, really bites!”

As if on cue, a low, angry hiss filled the air. Y/N’s eyes darted toward the sound and spotted Triton, the shop’s resident menace of a snapping turtle, making a surprisingly speedy beeline towards the open door of the shop, his jagged shell scraping against the floor.

“Shit!” Y/N cursed, darting forward instinctively before skidding to a halt. “Okay, no, never mind, I’m not doing this. I’m not getting near that little beast.”

Aemond, still holding the glass door like some absurd shield, grinned. “Come on, it’s just a turtle.”

“Just a turtle?” Y/N shot back, her voice rising. “That thing has jaws like a bloody bear trap! I am not risking my fingers, thank you very much!”

Aemond sighed dramatically, tossing the glass door onto the counter with a loud clatter. “Alright, alright. Step aside, manager. I’ll handle this.”

He moved toward Triton, who was now hissing like a demon freshly unleashed from hell, his beady little eyes locked on Aemond’s every step. “Easy there, mate,” Aemond cooed, crouching down slightly. “We’re all friends here.”

Triton did not seem convinced. He opened his mouth wide, revealing a jagged, prehistoric maw that looked like it could snap through bone without much effort. Aemond’s smirk faltered just a bit.

“Uh, Aemond?” Y/N called out from behind the counter, where she’d taken refuge. “You do realize that thing isn’t gonna just roll over and play fetch, right?”

Aemond shot her a look over his shoulder, his smile somewhere between cocky and slightly terrified. “I’ve got this,” he replied, although he didn’t sound quite as sure as he had a moment ago.

“Famous last words,” Y/N muttered under her breath.

Aemond took another step forward, inching closer to Triton, who seemed to be winding up like a spring. “Alright, Triton, just stay calm,” he murmured, his voice soothing. “You don’t want to bite me. I’m not very tasty, I promise.”

Suddenly, Triton lunged, jaws snapping with a loud clack that echoed through the shop. Aemond jerked back, nearly losing his balance. “Okay, noted,” he said, his voice tight with adrenaline. “Definitely not friendly.”

Y/N, despite the panic racing through her veins, couldn’t help but laugh. “I told you! He’s like the Hannibal Lecter of turtles!”

Aemond threw her a half-exasperated, half-amused look. “Helpful, thanks.”

Y/N glanced around wildly, spotting the broom leaning against the wall. “Use the broom!” she shouted, pointing.

Aemond grabbed the broom, holding it out like a sword. “Alright, Triton, let’s do this,” he muttered, moving in cautiously. He nudged the turtle gently with the broom’s bristles, trying to coax him away from the door.

Triton hissed again, then clamped down on the broom with a force that made Aemond’s eyes widen. “Bloody hell, he’s got a grip like a vice!”

Y/N is sweating bullets now. “Told you! You’re fighting for your life out there!”

Aemond struggled to wrestle the broom free, Triton thrashing wildly at the end of it. He gave the broom one last, hard tug, finally wrenching it free from Triton’s jaws. The turtle, clearly pissed off, made a beeline straight for him.

“Plan B!” Y/N shouted, scrambling onto a chair. “What’s Plan B?”

“Plan B is… I don’t know!” Aemond shouted back, darting around the counter with surprising agility. “Distract him!”

“How the hell do you distract a turtle?” she yelled, almost hysterical.

Aemond grabbed a bag of lettuce from the shelf and tossed a handful in Triton’s direction. “Here, mate, have a snack!”

Triton paused, sniffing the air with apparent suspicion, but then began to chomp at the leaves like a small, angry lawnmower.

Y/N let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “Okay, that… that actually worked?”

Aemond wiped his brow with a dramatic flourish. “See? I told you, I’ve got this.”

Y/N shook her head, half-amused, half-terrified. “Yeah, alright, Targaryen. But next time, you’re wearing armor.”

As the chaos finally settled, Y/N climbed down from her chair. She couldn’t believe they had just survived a snapping turtle attack — and that Aemond had somehow managed to make it look borderline heroic, even with a broom in hand.

She caught her breath and gave him a playful nudge. “You just saved me from a killer turtle. I guess I owe you one.”

Aemond, still holding the broom like some sort of knight who’d vanquished a beast, smirked at her. “What would you even do without me, huh?”

Y/N leaned against the counter, still a little giddy from the adrenaline. “So… do you drink beers? Or are you too posh for that? I was thinking I’d get you a couple as a thank you. Camden’s full of good pubs.”

Aemond raised an eyebrow, and for a moment, she wasn’t sure if he’d laugh or roll his eyes at the suggestion. He didn’t seem like the beer-and-pub type — more like the expensive wine in a penthouse kind of guy. But then, to her surprise, his entire face lit up.

“Beers?” he repeated, his tone a mix of intrigue and enthusiasm. “Absolutely. I could use one after that gladiator match remake with Triton.”

Y/N grinned, genuinely surprised by his enthusiasm. “Alright then, it’s settled. First round’s on me.”

Aemond didn’t argue, and together, they locked up the shop. The evening sun was just beginning to dip behind the rows of buildings in Camden, casting a warm, golden light over the bustling streets. The crowds had thinned out slightly as people finished their shopping, but the familiar hum of the city still surrounded them. Street performers were packing up, and the faint smell of food stalls lingered in the air.

They walked side by side, the rhythm of their steps in sync, heading toward one of the pubs just a short walk away. The air was cool, but not cold, and for the first time in what felt like ages, Y/N felt relaxed. Even after a day of dealing with reptiles and rogue turtles.

“You don’t strike me as the type who hangs out in Camden much,” Y/N said, glancing up at Aemond as they walked. “Do you even go to pubs?”

Aemond grinned, shoving his hands into his coat pockets. “Believe it or not, I’m not a complete hermit. I like going out — just depends on the place. Camden’s… got a vibe.”

She raised an eyebrow, skeptical but amused. “Oh? And what vibe is that, exactly?”

He smirked, looking around as they passed a tattoo shop, a second-hand record store, and a row of graffiti-covered buildings. “It’s raw,” he said after a moment, as if he were describing a fine wine or a work of art. “I like that. It’s not trying too hard.”

Y/N snorted, shaking her head. “You’re a strange one, Targaryen. Loaded, reads like a scholar, hangs out with iguanas, and now you’re telling me you’re into Camden’s ‘raw’ vibe.”

Aemond chuckled, clearly not offended. “I contain multitudes.”

She laughed, turning her gaze forward as they reached the pub. It was a cozy, unpretentious spot with a neon sign that flickered slightly above the door. They stepped inside, greeted by the warm chatter of a few patrons and the clink of glasses behind the bar.

Y/N nudged Aemond toward an empty booth in the corner. “You grab us a spot. I’ll get the drinks.”

As she made her way to the bar, she couldn’t help but glance back at him. He was leaning casually against the booth, his long legs stretched out in front of him, looking completely at ease in a place that seemed the polar opposite of his usual world. There was something oddly magnetic about him — not just his looks, but the way he carried himself, like he belonged everywhere and nowhere all at once.

“Two pints, please,” she ordered, handing over the cash before sliding back into the booth with Aemond.

He took his pint, raising it slightly toward her. “To surviving Triton.”

Y/N clinked her glass against his, laughing. “To surviving Triton,” she echoed.

They took long sips of their beers, and for a moment, they sat in comfortable silence, just enjoying the warmth of the pub and the fading light outside. Y/N leaned back, looking at him curiously. “You know,” she said, her voice softer now, “you’re not what I expected.”

Aemond looked at her, one eyebrow raised. “Oh? And what did you expect?”

She shrugged, giving him a playful grin. “I don’t know. Something more… serious. Intimidating.”

He smirked. “I can be. But I suppose you’re lucky — I like you.”

Y/N’s heart did that little flip again, but she rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get too cocky, Targaryen. You’re still not off the hook for tomorrow’s snake feeding.”

Aemond laughed, the sound low and warm between the bustles around them. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

#hotd fanfic #hotd fandom #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond modern au #hotd modern au

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imbored1201 · 11 months ago

Note

Can I send a request of barca teen reader who is very mischievous and tries to prank everybody

Piggy

Barcelona Femeni x Teen reader

A/N: I though of a situation of pranking someone then causing trouble with another situation👍

Word Count: 1,344

"Give me that." Ingrid snatched away the sharpie you had. "Hey! I'm using that for my notes.

"A sharpie for your notes, really?" She put her hands on her hips and gave you a mom look. You were sitting in the trunk of her car doing the remainder of your 'school work'. At least that's what you told her you were going to do.

"Yes, people do that; you haven't been to school in like 15 years, so you wouldn't know," you shrugged. Ingrid shook her head. "You always complain about the smell of sharpies, and you’re calling me old; this is such an old prank.

She was talking about the sign you had; 'kick me' it read, and it was supposed to go on Patri's back. "So, it will still be funny to see.

You took the paper back, applied tape to it, and shoved all your material back into your bag. "Don't be a snitch," you told Ingrid, and skipped away.

————

"Hey, Patri," you said joyfully as you hit her back, applying the note. "You're happier than usual," she said suspiciously. "Of course I am; I'm officially on Christmas break." She smiled at that; now you were off the radar.

—————

"Ay!" You turned as you heard Patri yell, seeing Claudia there giggling as Patri held her butt. "You said to do it." Patri looked confused at what Claudia said but just went on with training.

It kept happening as training went on. Aitana, Ona, Lucy, Salma, Oshoala, Mapi, Jana, Cata, and Gemma all kicked her.

Ingrid would just shake her head at you when you walked or ran past her. All the older girls, too, knew you were the reason for that sign on Patri's back. Everyone did, but they decided to ignore it and let you have your fun.

It was a harmless prank anyway.

—————

"Okay, what the heck is going on?!" Patri demanded as she entered the locker room after a long training session. You held a smile as everyone turned to her, confused. You looked down as Alexia gave you a look, and you were surprised she didn't say anything about it.

You were already changed and only waiting on Alexia; you were the first one in the locker room, knowing you would have to make a quick escape.

"Why is everyone kicking me today?" Everyone shrugged at Patri's question; she scowled and got changed.

You stared at her as she took off her shirt. You quickly grabbed your bag, grabbed Alexia's hand, and dragged her outside.

"Y/N!" You heard Patri yell, and you bolted. Alexia sighed as she ran with you, already used to this.

It happened every training, and she just went along with it now since it put you in a good mood instead of a crappy teenager attitude.

—————

"Are you ready?" Alexia knocked on your door, "wait, I'm packing." "For what? It's just a gathering." You rolled your eyes as you fed Piggy and put her into your bag, leaving it a little bit open.

"Okay, I'm ready." Alexia gave you a look; she knew you were up to something. "Why are you taking a bag?" "I always carry a bag with me," you said.

The team was having a little gathering to celebrate the last game of 2023.

"We're already late because of you; I told you to be ready by 4; it's already 6," she scolded. "I fell asleep; Lucy says I need my rest to grow," you tried defending. "Get in the car."

—————

When you got to Frido's place, you rushed to find Patri and sat next to her. She gave you a little glare and went back to watching the movie Frido had put on. Everyone else was too busy drinking and talking outside or in the kitchen about the upcoming games.

"Patri," she turned to you, "yes." "Can you help me prank Aitana and Ona?" She smiled a bit; she was happy it wasn't her again.

"What's your idea?" You grabbed your backpack and took out the tiny box. A tiny box that had a tiny spider. The "tiny spider" was a tarantula.

"How the hell do you have that?!" She said in shock, and you shushed her. "Her name is Piggy, and I got her yesterday." Patri looked terrified as she scooted over a little bit.

"Does Alexia know?" You shook your head. "I need to tell her because I need to get Piggy a home." "Then how did you get her?" "Mapi took me; I told her I was getting fish food, and she didn't question why I had a box or if I even had a fish." Patri shook her head.

"You have to promise me you won't prank me anymore for a month," she said, holding out her pinky, and you took the deal.

Patri went up to Aitana and Ona, who were in conversation and drinking together in the kitchen. She grabbed them by their shoulders and dragged them outside.

You followed but got run over by Lucy. You dropped the box, and Piggy automatically crawled away, sick of being in that tiny box. "Jeez, sorry kid." Lucy helped you up. You looked around on the floor, and your heart dropped when you realized you couldn't find Piggy.

"Lucy, Piggy is gone," you said in a panic. "Who's Piggy?" She questioned, but you guys heard a scream. A loud, loud scream. "Shit," you cursed as you ran to the kitchen.

"No!" You yelled, seeing Frido holding a shoe in her hand, ready to destroy Piggy. "Piggy!" You yelled as you ran and picked her up.

"Why do you have a tarantula!?" Keira yelled as she stood on the counter. "I adopted her," you told them, and they both looked at you in shock.

"Alexia let you get a spider?!" Lucy said surprised. Alexia walked in; her eyes widening when she saw what you were holding.

"Where- how did you. You're returning that." She let out a sigh as she shook her head and walked away. "Great, I'm in trouble now. Good going, Lucy," you said, sticking out your tongue at her.

You walked outside, looking sad. "What's wrong, Amiga?" Patri asked, confused. "Alexia said I have to return Piggy." Aitana's jaw dropped as she saw what you had in your hand.

"Nope," she simply said as she went back inside, dragging Ona with her. Patri looked at you and patted your shoulder in sympathy, but quickly backed away when you lifted Piggy up to her.

You had a plan, though, and you knew Alexia would let you keep Piggy.

—————

For having to return your pet Tarantula you were already attached to, you were quite happy. Alexia was just glad you weren't going to throw a tantrum about it.

She was leaving to pick Olga up from the airport, and you were waiting to put on your class act. "I'll be back in a bit; please don't break anything." You nodded, and she left.

You sat patiently by the door, working up your tears. You rushed to your feet once it opened. Alexia walking in first with Olga's luggage. Then Olga walked in.

"Olga!" You cried out, running straight into her arms. Alexia looked confused on why you were crying. "What happened?" She asked, confused.

"Olga, I got a pet Tarantula, and Alexia is trying to make me take her back," you cried, and Olga glared at Alexia. "Bebe, you can't have a tarantula," Alexia tried explaining.

"Yes, I can! I bought her, and I love her, so she's mine," Alexia groaned as Olga smacked her on the shoulder.

"Okay, you can keep her, but she's your responsibility, and I want you to keep her far away from me." You nodded.

"Okay, now that's sorted, let's go out to eat, yeah?" Olga said as she wiped your tears. You nodded happily and skipped off to your room.

You grinned as you texted Patri the good news and got ready. With the look Olga kept giving Alexia, you knew Alexia was sleeping on the couch tonight.

#woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #woso #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni #alexia putellas #patri guijarro #ingrid engen #ona batlle

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courtingchaos · 1 year ago

Text

Sleepy

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

It’s just a handjob blurb 🎉

NSFW 18+ No Minors

It started out innocently enough.

His head on your lap after a long day, the hum of the tv lulling him into a half sleep while your fingers dug through his damp hair. You spent your time separating the curls and gently detangling the knots while he dozed with his cheek pressed into your thigh, his hands tucked up under your leg. Every shift of his hair stirred up the aussie shampoo he’d stolen from you and it made you smile like the little sounds he made as he drifted in and out of consciousness made you smile. He’s heavy against you, fingers twitching every so often under your thigh, his shoulder pressed tight to you.

The last of the tangles come undone between your fingers and his hair lays fluffy and almost dry along his back. You think about sliding out from under him and letting him rest while you get ready for bed but instead you let your hand fall on the crown of his head. He hums at you when your fingers dip through his hair and graze his scalp. You scratch lightly and he rolls back into your hip, the corner of his mouth pulled up into a grin.

“That feels good.” He mumbles, face still pressed to your leg. His breath is hot through the thin material of your nightdress when he sighs deep as your fingers run down the back of his head. You watch goosebumps trickle down his arm and repeat the motion, getting another sigh out of him that slips through his teeth.

“I like it when you play with my hair.” He turns to look up at you with bleary eyes, sleep still trying to vie for his full attention.

“Yeah?” Another drag of your fingernails from the base of his skull to behind an ear. He almost whines, a muted sound he keeps muffled in the back of his throat. He just nods and pushes his head further back against you while he stretches his legs out over the other arm of the couch. His foot bounces to a beat only he hears while you lazily drag your fingers through his hair until his hand wraps around your wrist to pull it towards his mouth.

“Oh are we done?” You ask with a smile and he just pulls your wrist to his lips to press a dry kiss there. He trails a few up the inside of your arm and back down to the middle of your palm while you sneak your other hand back into his curls. “I wasn’t done.”

“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow lazily that quickly turns into a delighted frown when you tense your hand. A light grip on the crown of his head and you give him a little wiggle, enough that he laughs. His grip on your wrist slackens and you pull your hand out to land on his chest.

“Mhm.” Another little tug of his hair before you walk your fingers down his chest like a lazy tarantula.

He settles when you tug his shirt up to run your fingers over the sliver of skin and when you run a nail lightly along the waistband of his pants he rolls his head into your side to muffle his soft groan. He chances a glance up at you and immediately feels a blush dust his cheeks when he sees you staring down at him.

“What?” You smile, mischief in the squint of your eyes.

“You know what.”

Your fingers dip just under the waistband of his black sweats. “I have no idea.” His skin is soft and warm against your hand that keeps its slow course down.

“I’m already half asleep.” He says while canting his hips up into your touch when you graze the coarse hair.

“All you gotta do is lay there then.” Fingertips find hot, soft skin already firm but when your palm wraps around him his cock jumps and he laughs around a groan.

“Oh that’s it?” He asks breathily, voice hitching when your soft touch turns firmer. “Just gonna use me like that?”

“I’m not using you for anything, I’m trying to give you something.” You only take your hand off him for a second to nudge his waistband down but he’s whining, grabbing your forearm with both hands. He holds on when you lift your hand to lick your palm, his eyes cracked open to watch you. His thumbs rub along the soft skin inside your elbow and when you wrap your hand around him again he gasps at the cool, wet touch.

“W-what’d I do the earn this?” Stuttered words quiet when he shoves his face into your side again to pull the fabric of your dress between his teeth.

“Nothing.” A slow pump of your hand, finger tips straying down to gently pull at his balls. “I just wanted to touch you.” An open palm against his leaking tip and you come away with more slick, the sound audible now. “I missed you today.” The fingers still wound in his hair flex and pull a little, just enough to make him hiss into you. Muffled and damp through the cotton while your other hand slowly picks up pace. Eddie whines, hot in your hand, flushed and red and even if he is half asleep his full attention is on your movement.

“Doesn’t take much, does it?” Another tug of his curls and he throbs in your hand. He sinks down further, into the cushions and into your lap, neck rolling along your thigh. You stop with your slow teasing, hand moving steady up and down and he shudders. Between your two hands you have him trapped in a haze, somewhere between sleep and arousal. He rolls his hips up into your palm, sure thing at first that quickly turns frantic.

If anything, he’s using you tonight but that’s the point.

You coo at him and his noises and he grips onto your elbow like a lifeline, breath coming hard through his nose.

“You close?”

He can’t answer with full words, just a nod against your leg and a tightening of his fingers.

“How close?” You slow your hand for a moment and he makes a noise deep in his chest.

“Don’t tease.”

“But it’s fun.” You grin at him blushing and gasping and you couldn’t hold out on him if you tried. You speed your hand up and he sounds like he’s choking on a sob just before he comes. His fingers dig into you and your hand in his hair holds him down, a little string of mumbled curses spilling out of his lips.

“See?” Nails against his scalp, light lines that make him shiver deeper. “Just had to lay there.”

“Yeah and make a mess.” He looks down at his shirt and your hand, sticky and wet. Wordlessly you slide out from under him to grab a towel and in the minute you’re gone he’s back in that twilight sleep, leaving you to clean up. It’s fine though, you know he’ll wake you up in a few hours to return the favor.

#Eddie Munson Smut #Eddie Munson Fic #Eddie Munson #My Work #My Fic

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lenoraah · 1 year ago

Text

𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴

pairing - charles leclerc x reader

summary - cute and (hopefully) short moments in charles and reader’s relationship written in headcannons

a/n - i did this for Logan and decided to do one for Charles too

☆ logan’s version

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

anniversary-

~cute and smutty

~i see breakfast in bed and then a fun night in your future

~packing would be fun, matching outfits, beach pieces and parkas, something fun for the night

~roses and expensive glass of wine

~i think if your anniversary was on a race weekend then you would definitely go with him even if you had to use the rest of your vacation days (we all know what we’d do for him)

~i think it would be a cute tradition if you would get him something from a small local shop wherever you are while Charles is at practice

~either way it will be fun and exciting and sexy if you want it to be

your color-

~no matter what your color is i can see that Charles will freak out and be all excited whenever he saw something in your color

~bulky knitted sweaters, yoga pants, t-shirt, jackets, really anything

~it would be really adorable when he comes home and half of his luggage is just stuff in your color

~half of your closet would just be the clothes in your color that he has gotten you

~not to mention he’d also get jewelry, pottery, blankets and tiny decor pieces

~I have a very clear image;

~imagine, you are on your way to congratulate one of the drivers while Charles is in an interview. after the interview all he wants to do is find you and in the giant sea of people, it’s kind of hard. however he recognizes you very quickly with a smile on his face. how? by the sweater you have on. which he can clearly see even though your back is facing home while you are talking to Lando.

matching jewelry-

~i think we’ve all seen the one gorgeous Forza Ferrari bracelet that Charles has on

~i love it when a man wears jewelry

~maybe it’s a clay bead bracelet or maybe it’s one of those string ones

~i don’t know it’s really your choice, either way i think it would be really cute and have a heart or maybe something that is color coded

~maybe the two of you made the one for the other person

~i personally think that even though Charles has that huge stack of bracelets, yours would be the one he wouldn’t take off

~now what do we think about a necklace with his first initial on it

having pets together-

~the two of you would get either a cat or dog after the first year you’re together

~one of you would probably throw out a crazy idea like a tarantula or gecko

~which of course quickly gets denied by the other person

~either something inspired names or very original

~if you get a cat, a certain Williams driver will be very thrilled to hang out or catsit for the two of you

~if you get a dog, that means that if you ever decide to bring him/her to a race Angie and Roscoe would have another dog to gossip to about team strategies

~sorry couldn’t help myself, after all i am a depressed Ferrari fan 😀

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc headcanon #f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 imagine #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #original post #original writing

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comfortless · 8 months ago

Note

sylly (like silly yk yk) what are your könig hcs? 🌹

SYLLY?! i…. Ok…. fair warning this is a little long… all that i do is think about this guy someone get him out of my head.

tread carefully reading this! there is a lot of sensitive content here: mental health stuff, abuse, mentions of sex and pornographic material, suicidal ideation, etc etc.

Generic, silly headcanons:

He prefers coffee (black) over tea, but he does have a bit of a sweet tooth (will never resist caramel if it’s presented to him). Honestly, he’s pretty self-reliant when it comes to food, too. On lazy days, he makes enough to where a takeout bill is hardly a concern, but for the most part he cooks! Not a chef by any means, but nothing he ever makes is bad!

Definitely wants a big, loving family, the polar opposite of what he had growing up as an only child in a far less than perfect household. Not a dealbreaker, but he does yearn for all of the love that he’s missed out on and then some.

Not big on video games, but… I do think he is absolutely spending every lonely leave playing Elder Scrolls. Would be so easy to convince to go larping or to a renfaire. I see everyone’s car/bike guy headcanons and I raise you… obsessed with fantasy König. He loves history and myth!! Why not combine the two and see him in chainmail.

The scent & kink posts. But to add… he’s an affectionate biter. (,: Knows the correct places to do so that won’t cause damage or hurt too terribly much. Likes to sniff you just as well! The embodiment of the “merge souls with me” post; in love, he just wants to feel you any way that he can and have some part of you lingering on him, even if it’s just a stray hair or your scent clinging to his shirt or pillowcase.

Cheating is never on this guy’s mind when he’s in a relationship. If he’s found a lady not running for the hills the second she catches sight of him, that’s his one and only. Sure, he may find himself attracted to someone else at some point or other during the duration of a relationship, but he’s devoted and disciplined! There’s never the fear of anyone coming in between he and his lover. He’ll spoil you with gifts, clingy to a point it’s overbearing, always giving you the utmost care… but is not opposed to bullying you into being a submissive, trembling mess either. He’s balanced!

Adores animals. Like any of them. There’s a special place in his heart for cats, but having a constant companion that he can take on hikes like a large dog would be ideal. Would definitely consider owning a tarantula or a snake, too. ^^ He isn’t scared of anything, let alone a creature that most are misinformed about… (he projects a little..). He would treat them just as well as anyone would treat a more “normal” pet. Understanding if you wouldn’t want to hold a giant arachnid (they’re delicate and you squirming over it would make him a bit protective over the poor thing. ): ), but it would mean a lot to him if you were more accepting.

König would not be a pretty sight (to most people) the majority of the time… I doubt that he takes care of himself past training his body and his allotted one-two minute military showers. His character description describes what is rumored to be under his mask as scary. Let him have his buzzcut, and scars, and teeth or old wounds a little too fucked up to fix! Unconventionally attractive is still attractive! (i think his ‘face reveal’ is actually so cute…)

Lots of sporadic little thoughts, but… Ambidextrous, can not ride a bike, whistles/hums to fill lapses of silence, flexes his fingers/cracks his knuckles when he’s nervous, definitely snores (loudly), brushes his teeth like 3-4 times a day (when he can) because he eats so much, not a picky eater at all, thinks it’s cute if you’re affectionately a little grossed out by him from time to time, absolutely the kind of person that thinks fuel and fire smell good, fluent in English and German but certainly knows many words and phrases from other languages.

Kind of clumsy. Overthinks the way his body looks to the point where sometimes his movements are a little stiff. Overestimates how tall a door frame may be if he’s distracted in the presence of others, hits his head and plays it off like he didn’t even notice. He’s (obviously) highly confident on the field, but in regular circumstances it’s totally reversed.

Though. Yeah. Sometimes this does translate onto the field. Can’t stay in one place for too long, once knocked an enemy soldier out by barreling into him. He’s a quick shot, skillful with any weapon that falls into his hands, but his focus can get a little skewed.

He collects some things. Nothing exactly pricy, but antique knives, coins, and a pocket watch or two. And he isn’t the most apt at putting things together in an appealing way… The first time you’re allowed into his house it looks like he’s robbed some vintage hunting shop/is planning something nefarious with the way he’s just got a few daggers strewn about his kitchen table. Just push them to the side, it’s fine! (His favorite is certainly one with a handle carved from a stag’s antler.)

Definitely takes a physical approach to bad feelings. @melancholic-thing mentioned to me that he bites himself when he’s feeling dejected or frustrated and yeah. (All of Ghost’s hcs for him are factually correct.) Not going to punch a hole through the wall but may aggressively slam a door or raise his voice before he can catch himself.

I have many thoughts about König’s childhood/early adulthood. Like, too many. But to summarize…

I think that everyone experiences bullying to an extent but what would make it so bad that it managed to make its way into the scraps that we do have of him? What made him so fundamentally unlikable to his peers? /: With my König I’ve settled on it being a blend of neurodivergency and a nightmare home life and alienation from his peers.

Height is predominantly viewed as a good trait. I don’t think it was necessarily his appearance at all that got him picked on so heavily (albeit… I do think that he would have had some scars, crooked teeth, regular facial bruising or cuts from scraps with other children/his father). Perhaps not the most conventionally attractive guy around, but normally viewed as a solid 5/10, just average. The kind of person who you wouldn’t remember from just a face alone.

His personality was always memorable though.

Whilst the other children/teenagers were interested in the regular trends, sports, whatever was shown on the television or heard on the radio at the time, I think he probably would have had a great interest in escapism!!

Comics, books, researching history and geography, etc, anything that could keep him from thinking of where he was/what other people viewed him as. He had a lot of strange things to say: odd facts (like the kind of person to tell you the longest word in the dictionary because he thinks it’s cool, “um actually—“ to correct something, monologuing about some bug you’ve just squashed and how it was not just a pest but very useful in nature, borderline concerning reactions to being shunned (feigned threats of violence that he would laugh off, things he’s probably heard from media and his own parents), over explaining himself for the simplest of misunderstandings, and… quoting his Oma’s very old-fashioned turns of phrase (think of little Kö regularly saying “Du gehst mir tierisch auf den Keks.” when he’s annoyed whereas the others say things far less dated like “Du gehst mir auf den Sack.”)

With him being difficult to relate to and having the most uncanny things slip out of his mouth, others probably did view him as a bit of a freak. He didn’t particularly stand up for himself often either apart from a few fights (and would never hit a girl). He would stay quiet, pretend to focus on his studies or whatever else was before him while the other children jeered and taunted. Regularly a target for fake confessions and offers to hang out outside of school, too.

König did have crushes, did have people he thought were cool and wanted to befriend, but after the third time of showing up someplace that he had to walk to on his own to find that no one had actually wanted to spend their time with him, he gave up.

I don’t think he had a good relationship with his parents or much of anyone. Seriously, leaving for the military at seventeen sets off a ton of alarm bells! He left the week of his Oma’s passing, because what else was there for him — no girlfriend, no prospects, hardly a relationship with his mother or father.

His father was your standard shit parent— womanizing, loud, physically abusive towards König. “Bonding” activities with him always had a heavy lean towards violence: hunting and arguing that usually resulted in fist fighting his own son seemed to be his favorites. A small man with an equally small ego— he probably would have boasted about his affairs to König, exposed him to pornography as a way of making sure his son wasn’t anything other than straight (which: never stopped his curiosity). He would never hold back from telling König that he would never in a million years find a girl willing to put up with his supposed stupidity and shortcomings. Generally just viewed his own son as utterly worthless if not for use as a punching bag.

In turn, König always loathed him, would dread hearing the bastard just walking around the house because he knew he would always find something to bicker with his wife or son over. Nothing that they ever did would be deemed correct, and his social anxiety initially developed from his dealings with him.

His mother was withdrawn, emotionally neglectful. König was just… there to her; another mouth to feed, another person begging for the attention she would have rather spared on herself.

She wasn’t a bad mother and she did try, but the product of dealing with his father’s nonsense + letting her own mental illness go unchecked (as in, his father controlled the family financially and why would he let her blow through their funds to see a therapist and “lose her lucidity with pills and ridiculous talks”). There were some days when she would be feeling more like herself and take König along with her for walks through the park where she would try to ask him about his life, about school, and… he would end up spilling his guts to her only for her to return to silence. Still, those were his favorite days. His fondest memory was picking a flower for her on one of those walks, one that she kept pressed and later framed.

There were never family dinners, no movie nights, no day trips or vacations. The most blissful of days were spent in the comfort of his room where he could keep the door locked and muffle the sounds of his parents arguing with loud music.

So, König did not have much of a safe space within his own home, but he had his Oma and her cluttered little house. She had books and plenty of food, even a cat, too. Though she was like his mother, stern and withdrawn, she would at least sit with him and tell him stories of her own life. She would at least tell him “Ich lieb dich, Käferchen!” in her quiet voice, stroke his head where he would sit with his nose buried in a book beside her. She would show him her dusty antiques, her old photographs, and in turn taught him to be a proper man by making him tend to what needed to be done around her house. And the garden. He loved his Oma’s garden, full of orchids, petunias, and tomatoes she would mash up to make him goulash or tomatensalat!

With Austria’s leading religion being Catholicism, I do think his Oma would have dragged him with her to service plenty, too. Not that he ever particularly enjoyed it… just zoned out with a plastic soldier in his pocket to fidget with or some trading card he spent the money he earned doing chores for her on. He’s never considered himself religious, thought himself to be bound for Hell no matter what, even if most of the time he felt that he was already there.

You take a puppy that’s been beaten down his entire life, but still remains eager and throw him in a barrack with people more horrible than any bully he’s ever had, though…? He starts taking his father’s advice more and more then. He wouldn’t harm anyone that he didn’t view as deserving of it, but it didn’t need to go that far that often, anyway. König is aware of the space he takes up by then, aware that all of his training has made him more broad and sturdy, and those playground fights are nothing compared to what he’s capable of now.

He gets his callsign from a quip about him owning nothing. His barrack is empty, devoid of pictures or any sentimental belongings. He rarely checks his phone, there might be the occasional missed call from a spam number, what is there to even see? He has no social media presence, every leave is spent in a shitty apartment only a days travel from his hometown, and he is utterly silent when the other soldiers invite him out for drinks. So yes, he’s a king. The king of absolutely nothing.

One of these rowdy boys does eventually coax him into talking to a woman. He loses his virginity in a disgusting bar bathroom, where he asks her after the two minutes he’s spent inside of her if it means anything to her at all. She laughs, washes herself in the sink and calms him down, but doesn’t give him her number or anything more than her first name.

He’s starved for love, utterly miserable without it, but doesn’t have much of a desire to seek it out, either. He’s seen how people are, how they treat him. But time and time again he will grapple onto any thread that may lead him to a pinhole of hope when it’s offered to him. For the most part, he has his hand and a perpetually almost-empty bottle of lotion.

And it’s not much of a surprise that König has contemplated suicide more times than he can count. It has never culminated in any way, only fearing that he would disappoint his men, even further disappoint his parents, maybe even a small part of him still believes in a Hell; that maybe with enough vigilantism on his part he’ll earn his way to a pleasant afterlife, one he teeters on the separation of believing in and not.

He doesn’t think about his mental health, always haunted by his father’s words, thinking that assuredly it would make him weak if he were to seek help for something like his own thoughts. So he overexerts himself during workouts, bottles everything other than rage and love inside: no one is going to see him cry, not ever again after being laughed at for him hundreds of times during school where he sat being called an “ugly giant” a “daydreaming freak” and an “idiot” near daily where silent tears did escape, only spurring further laughter.

Though I do not write him with these things in mind for every au, there are always subtle hints scattered about. ^^ I could probably prattle on forever about him, but I will leave you with this for now…

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yslende · 5 months ago

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cabin 16 ー children of nemesis headcanons

| author's note: yeah i only really made this because i figured out that nemesis would be my godly parent. quite a few of these are based on me. probably not going to do any more of these, if only because i'd be unable to emulate this amount of detail again.

vindictive. do i even need to say it.

ambidextrous. the lot of them.

all of them have stares that seem like they look right through you.

insane resting bitch and poker faces. nothing shows unless they explicitly let it.

⬆️ however, any emotion they feel, they feel it STRONGLY. happiness? more like euphoria. sadness? more like depression. annoyance? more like fury. (the furies *wish* they had what nemesis kids do.)

they're the type of people to be fashionable by default because all they wear is black, red, and Leather Jacket (which is a color in itself.)

⬆️ despite this, they don't mind the camp shirts, if only because everyone else is wearing them.

three options: read rulebooks for fun, be the reason rules are created, or both.

they treat death like a trip to the dentist: an unpleasant inevitability.

unshakeable loyalty. once you've got a nemesis demigod on your side, they'll follow you to tartarus and back.

⬆️ likewise, if you harm them or their friends, there is nothing they won't do to get back at you. nothing is beneath them. be terrified.

natural skeptics. nemesis is a daughter of nyx, so some of her kids have likely been to the underworld. they've met shades. even so, they'll passionately argue against the existence of ghosts.

weirdly good memory. of course, they remember every insult said about them, but they also remember how many arrows you shot into the woods at archery practice last tuesday. especially good with remembering strings of letters or numbers.

⬆️ they're some of the few demigods that can do math. they do it for fun, that's how bad it is.

really good at strategy, but often people don't go along with their plans. see: nothing is beneath them.

geese fucking love them. a common sight at chb is watching geese try and bite everyone's faces off, then trip over themselves to be pet like drugged cats by the nemesis cabin.

all super good at board games, especially chess, settlers of catan, and monopoly. uno skills are 50/50.

they're the type of people to save every deus ex machina item in a video game for later, and then proceed to never use them.

great sense of balance. they're great at tightropes, and can do triple pirouettes (a type of turn in ballet) easily. they like perching in trees and watching during capture the flag if they're not fighting.

if you're unwilling to debate or close-minded, be prepared to find spiders in your underwear. *especially* if you're an athena kid.

⬆️ probably have a tarantula as a cabin pet, named 'houdini,' because he keeps ""escaping"" to the athena cabin. it's super unfortunate like that.

⬆️ they also probably have a favorite wild goose, too.

there are no extroverted nemesis demigods. if one seems like an extrovert, they're either in denial or masking super hard.

they're the type of people to do all of the group project work alone. they have no patience for anyone who can't pull their weight.

each have their own methods of organization. if you touch their stuff you will die. they always know.

can't sleep without the ends of their blankets tucked underneath the mattress and the sides perfectly even. it just feels off to them.

socialism. communism. literally anything except pro-capitalist. look at me in my face and tell me i'm wrong.

optimistic pessimism? very 'the glass is half-empty, but at least there's something in there' vibes.

about as blunt as a club. if you want the brutal truth, ask a nemesis kid about your swordsmanship. you'll come out crying.

they take things very literally. jokes often fly over their head, but they catch sarcasm and veiled insults faster than hermes runs.

always take things seriously. even things that aren't supposed to be taken seriously. like 'packing rocks in snowballs' seriously.

all of them despise bullies with all of their being. there isn't a nemesis demigod who won't introduce their knee to a bully's crotch for fun. hades, they'll *pay* you to let them do it.

their fighting skills and athleticism increase when serving justice, revenge, or vengeance. like normally, they're really good, but then someone steals their marshmallow or something and then they get REALLY good.

like to put extra effort into scaring and prank new campers before being nice to them. trial by fire, i guess.

however, after the inital hazing, they protect unclaimed kids with their lives. again, see: nothing is beneath them.

want to know everything, including but not limited to why you didn't put any grapes on your plate to every single reason why your godly parent acts the way they do towards you. once again, see: nothing is beneath them.

fight best with either a sword or a shield, but they're especially good with both.

(sidenote: their favorite swords would probably be executioners' swords, which imo are super fucking cool. their favorite shields would probably be aspis (roman: clipeus) but specifically the ones with faces or figures carved in them.)

nemesis isn't a super caring mother tbh. she punishes her children mercilessly if they do something wrong or malicious. however, likewise, she praises them lavishly whenever they complete a quest or do something that demonstrates the power of cabin 16.

⬆️ her kids either have huge problems with authority or zero problems with authority. most swing wildly between the two, but that's what balance means, right?

friends with cabins: 1, 5, 8, 13, 15, 20

chill with cabins: 3, 9, 12, 14, 17, 19

does not get along with cabins: 4, 6, 7, 10, 11, 18

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razziematazz · 5 months ago

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yeah sexy bitches it’s extremely goofy headcanon time

(disclaimer: some of this would be specific to a human and/or modern au, because i love drawing them as humans, love the designs i gave them, and was not yet born in 2000- let alone conscious to remember anything about it. also i like giving them tails, even in the human au. this ended up being very long, so here’s a courtesy cut!)

max goof:

this man is BISEXUAL!!!!!!! he and roxanne were bi4bi, but they (mutually) broke up their senior year of highschool bc roxanne was moving for college across the country. after a bit of time, they went to just being close friends :3

speaking of college: we know that the goof family is poor. THEREFORE, i raise you: max is at college via a full ride scholarship. he worked his ASS off to be able to go to college without having to take out loans or “leech” from his dad, and it paid off!

he’s actually REALLY smart but a lot of people don’t know that bc “oh that’s some alt skater boy. he’s probably scraping by with a C average at best”.

he’s also the only reason bobby has passed any classes since junior year of hs

he came out to goofy the summer after he graduated high school. goofy cried bc he was so happy max trusted him enough with that and threw max 2 parties. he is the type of dad to buy max pride socks and wear a shirt that says “i love my gay son” for all of june. max is more than a little embarrassed, but overall? he loves his dad, and he’s really glad his dad loves him no matter what

idc what yall say he is NOT a little white boy as a human 😭😭😭 was literally jump scared the first time i saw him drawn white bc like i just thought it was agreed upon that he’s a POC

continuing with him as a human: yall will see this when i post my designs, but he’s pierced UP ‼️ he’s got snakebites he wears rings in (outwardly mimicking his buck teeth, since i draw the rings thick), both a madonna and monroe piercing, heavily gauged lobes, a double conch and double helix on his right ear, an industrial on his left, a right eyebrow piercing, and a tongue piercing. i also toyed w the idea of hip piercings but thinking abt dermal piercings makes me genuinely sick so

he also taught himself how to do piercings and pierced bobby’s lobe. a good half of his piercings were done at home. do not follow his example <3

(he tried to pierce his nipples and failed horribly, so he just took out the jewelry bc he was NOT having uneven nipples. this is based on one of my friend’s experiences!)

yall already KNOW he’s got that smudgy eyeliner look going on

that takes about 2 minutes. his hair, however, takes him a good 30! and an ungodly amount of hairspray.

his mom left when he was 5 and he barely remembers her

he and the goof troop became quick friends with tank after the x-games, and max definitely had a hand in tank giving bradley another chance

has a pet king snake and a pet tarantula! he got them when his powerline phase was still SUPER strong and named them both after him/his songs. whenever people ask him to explain their names, he gets lowkey embarrassed

got a matching trap stamp w bobby. peej was going to join too but he chickened out as soon as the needle touched down 😭

(the first time bradley accidentally caught a glimpse of max’s tramp stamp, he malfunctioned, fled the room, and had a crisis)

long, double coated black tail

bradley uppercrust III

closeted gay man

he’s the typical frat boy who’s been with a ton of girls, and he just kind of assumed that sex was a chore people went through and it was supposed to be be kind of unfulfilling for everyone

nah it’s just bc he wasn’t actually attracted to women 😭😭 he didn’t realize that he’s gay until his junior year of undergrad

(max and his stupid mouth full of stupid piercings that pours out stupid words and dumber retorts is what made him realize)

(he was literally like a little boy pulling on his crush’s pigtails and didn’t even realize it until about two weeks after the x-games, when he couldn’t stop thinking about how max still smiled at him and called off the bet afterwards)

on this topic: realizing he was gay caused an absolutely gigantic crisis, especially since he didn’t have a support system at all

(tank needed a lot of time to process everything, and even longer to begin forgiving bradley)

(speaking of that, while bradley was still officially the president of the gamma mu mu fraternity on paper [his dad paid everyone off], tank took over his position after the x-games. bradley was basically ostracized)

the main part of why his being gay was such a horrible realization for him is because his dad is the epitome of conservative. his mom believes queer people are just misled.

oh good lord, now it’s time to talk about his horrible father!!

as we’ve said, bradley’s dad is extremely homophobic. he’s the kind of guy to say spew absolutely every false “fact” or “statistic” and homophobic rhetoric anyone could have, and did this to bradley

he also put insane amounts of pressure on bradley

in the words of myself after watching a sad tiktok:

“[bradley is] so comphet and horrible neglectful parents who put far too much pressure on him core. he’s such a trust fund baby except the people who created that trust aren’t even in his life. he’s so simultaneously absent father and father who is constantly There, in his mind, judging him. he’s so internalized homophobia [because of this]”.

his father is definitely financially abusive btw

while he’s extremely rich, he threatens to take away any and all funding and shut down bradley’s cards at even the slightest hint of failure

being gay wouldn’t just get bradley’s funds cuts, though. it’d get him cut entirely from the family.

he’s meant to be perfect because he’s meant to be exactly like his dad and take over his dad’s place after retirement.

even one mistake would “warrant” his dad yelling at him for hours

bradley’s extreme daddy issues is what caused him to react so strongly to goofy saying “well clearly you don’t understand the bond between a father and son 🙄”

also bradley’s dad is the kind of guy to go for younger girls. he had four wives before bradley’s mom, but would leave them as soon as he found out his spawn was to be a girl instead of a boy. he needed a son to take on his “legacy”, and if they couldn’t provide that, they were worthless

and them being ~21 means they wouldn’t know any better

plus, he believes in the stupid “a woman’s prime childbearing years are 16-23 🤓” bs

so like even as he got older, he kept getting with women in that age range instead of those of his own

aka bradley’s mom was 21 and his dad 36 when they got married and had bradley within the same year.

on this note , bradley’s mom is.. not as bad

she holds the same values as his father, but isn’t nearly as extreme

she wouldn’t disown bradley for him being gay, but she would cry and cry because she thought it was a sign she failed as a mother. she’d beg him to “take it back”

to bradley, this is even worse than his father’s anger, since he was a mamas boy through and through.

she wouldn’t ever stand up to his dad, but even when he was young, bradley understood that it was out of fear

if she could get away with it, his mom would always comfort him after his dad’s outbursts

but if she was caught, his father would yell that all this soft treatment would turn him into a (slur i’m not comfortable saying!) and he needed to learn his lesson

all im gonna say is she blames herself

however, speaking of when bradley was young..

his mom has wavy/curly blonde hair

when he was young, he had the exact same hair as his mom

however, as he got older, his hair got darker

until it eventually became the same shade as his dad’s

bradley knew this made his mom a bit sad, but neither of them commented on it, because they both knew bradley was even more upset

it meant that he was now a near carbon copy of his father- minus his hair still being curly, and his lack of facial hair

however, when he got older and his hair became darker, his dad started pressuring him to straighten it, too

of course, he did, even though he hated it

… and at college, as a very subtle way of rebelling, he stopped straightening his hair until he had to see his father

anywayssss onto lighter headcanons!

(roxanne as well interlude !!)

bradley’s maternal uncle is married to roxanne’s maternal aunt!!

(this has absolutely zero basis btw 😭)

minus tank, roxanne was the closest friend to bradley growing up

his dad wasn’t really happy he was so close to a girl, but since roxanne is family, he let it slide; he’s supposed to be such a good family man, after all! it’s the uppercrust image!

anyways, as i said, they were super close

they would gravitate to each other every family get together (christmas, thanksgiving, etc) and would beg their parents to let them visit each other as often as possible

it was much more common for bradley to visit roxanne’s house than vice versa, since roxanne’s parents just have a feeling about bradley’s father. bradley had no issue with this at all

however.. max knew absolutely nothing about this!

whenever roxanne would say “sorry, i’ve got family over right now, i can’t hang out today”, he just wouldn’t question it

and bradley would passively listen to roxanne talk about her crushes, but since he couldn’t relate, it just sort of went into one ear and out the other

they also started to drift a bit during highschool

roxanne coming out to bradley was.. a lot. but he loves her, and knows she’s the best person he’s ever met, and so slowly, he begins to unlearn what his parents taught

roxanne is extremely proud (lol!) of bradley and bradley is.. feeling a lot of things, but he can’t say hate for others is one of them

for a long time, even when bradley was growing closer to the goof troop, winning back tanks everything, and accepting his feelings for max, roxanne was who bradley could always count on. she’s the person he came out to first, and he actually went to her for boy (max) advice multiple times 😭

she caught on quickly but didn’t mind at all

anyways, neither roxanne nor bradley knew that the other knows max- let alone that they eventually both date him

for the first time max is friends with bradley and roxanne comes back to spoonersville for christmas, max introduces them

except they already know each other.

and instead of “hello, im ___”, what he sees is them absolutely booking it towards each other with an “OH MY GODDDD!! HIIIII!! IT’S BEEN WAYYY TO LONG!! I HAVENT SEEN YOU IN, LIKE, 2 THANKSGIVINGS!!!!! HOWVE YOU BEEEN OMG WE NEED TO CATCH UP!!!!”

they both completely ignore max and he’s stood there absolutely DUMBFOUNDED

he is STUNNED

he is the EPITOME of ?!?!?!

bc what are the chances they know each other?? roxanne is NOTHING like the front bradley puts on, and her parents sure as hell aren’t millionaires

and what are the CHANCES max ends up not only having a crush on, but ends up DATING both?????

more roxanne: curled, medium-short haired, solid ginger tail

back to bradley

secretly loves it when max calls him brad instead of his full name

before max, no one had ever shortened his name

it feels like a separation from himself and the uppercrust name

it feels like he’s his own person, and not just an extension of his father- bradley uppercrust II

it takes him a good while and a few drinks to ever admit this, but afterwards, “brad” stops being only a teasing nickname- it has a new undercurrent of warmth

an everything shower takes him about 2 hours. he has very long, very specific skin care (both face and body), hair care, nail care, and grooming routines

these include the usages of no less than 30 different products

he has glasses but would rather wear contacts or just not be able to see than EVER wear them in public.

curled, very fluffy tail with a white bottom and tan top

(his dad forced him to always be in complete control of his tail; to never let it wag, never tuck it, anything. always hold it up high and steady)

(the only time he would let himself forgo these rules is when he was with only roxanne)

(the first time he felt the tell that his tail was about to wag when with max, he left IMMEDIATELY, and it took a while to unlearn all of this)

bobby zimmeruski

biggest stoner any of them have ever met

he’s high for the entirety of both movies

genuinely uses brainrot speak (rizz, sigma, gyatt, etc)

this spread to max, and eventually pj

…and when bradley caught himself thinking a brainrot word for the first time, he was absolutely MORTIFIED

he refuses to say the words.

however, beret girl is never infected!!

religious game grumps viewer

he tried to be a twitch streamer for like two days

pasty ass mf 😭😭

he has to wear spf100 every single time he goes outside in the summer or he WILL get 3rd degree sunburns

short and short-haired ginger tail

absolutely, 100% in love with bianca

im talking he’s already saving up for an engagement ring

(she would say yes in a heartbeat)

he stops wearing the beret he’s seen in at the end of the movie after a while

bianca assured him that, although she’s flattered, she’d love him just as much if he stayed the exact same as when they first met

his new found love of poetry is as genuine as can be tho

the designated driver for SURE

the “what the flip” to max’s “what the fuck” and bobby’s “what the sigma”

(PJ very rarely curses bc his dad does often. if yall didn’t know, his dad. erm. canonically sucks!! not as badly as bradley’s, but his dad is the “your kids should respect (FEAR) you” type)

has a short haired, black bobtail

beret girl

her name is bianca roan greene (b for beret, roan bc i like it, and g for girl)

she goes by roan bc i want her to escape being BG

(credit to Lian_mail on ao3 for the roan part!!)

also bi but leans heavily towards women

she’s a psychology major

she bonds with max over piercings bc she’s also got a few non-standard piercings!

she’s got double lobes, a helix, a forward helix, a conch and a daith on both sides

she wants a nose piercing but feels like, in regards to her future field of work, she’s already pushing her luck with all of the ear piercings

they’re partially why she wears her hair so long

by far the best at advice and the most level-headed out of the (extended, which includes her, roxanne, bradley, and tank) goof troop

has a long, smooth, long-haired tail the same color as her hair

#maxley #the masterlist #max goof #bradley uppercrust iii #an extremely goofy movie #aegm #is that a thing?#is that an acronym people use??#my musings #oh wait should i make a different tag for this #my hcs #there we go #long post #i may separate it later #or at least separate brad and roxanne’s from the rest #idk #the extremely goofy masterlist #even!

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