Doe!Reader and her mate bear!Price again... (part one here)
Something that ws typically present across most species of male hybrids was the urge to please. They want praise and acknowledgment for doing their mately duties, even if it was just a purr.
John was no different. If anything, he was more prideful of when he could do something for the people he took care of than anything else. While he was in combat, it was his team, and it always will be even if they each have their own mated packs now. Then men were bonded in blood, and that was enough. Now, however, his nurturing instincts can target themselves on her. His mate.
She was a pretty little thing, knobbed knees and cute, almond shaped ears protruding from her hair. Her skin was almost an ombre, from her main color being the majority filling her body (that he could see), and a darker shade of that same color bordered her features. Her hairline, elbows, back of her ears, her neck were all darker.
She was small. Maybe not petite or size zero small, but her proportions were just... small. It was common for smaller animals to generally be smaller, obviously, but it never occurred to John just how much of a turn on that was.
Maybe it had to do with a predator-prey instinct.
Regardless, John wasn't going to be going home any time soon. He would park back up on the hill before the entrance to her shop and wait.
John waited until 5:30 before pulling back down the driveway. His mate was talking to a customer when he entered the shop. A old man with circular ears on the top of his white hair, circular glasses above his pudgy nose, and a long tail that matched his ears. A mouse man.
"Alright, George, you come back anytime you need and tell me how that's been working for you, alright?" She was saying as he was walking in.
"Alright, thank you, miss." The man began to walk past John as he circled to get behind the counter with his Deer, "Is that your lady? She's such a sweet girl. You best sweep her up while you can. " The old man chided to him in a joking manner. This naturally made John smirk and Doe go red in embarrassment.
"Trust me, im working on it sir."
Within fifteen minutes, John convinced Doe to finish up in the shop, and he would make sure her nursery was cleaned up for the night. She anxiously gave him a list of things that needed to be done. Make sure the lights are at a specific level, keep certain plants away from each other, heat rises, so make sure any pots in a teal planter are on the floor, Etcetera.
Within half an hour, John was walking his Doe to his truck, helping her up into the passenger seat and got himself behind the wheel.
It was a pretty short drive, maybe seven minutes, and that time was filled with surprisingly smooth small talk. Doe was quiet, shy, but very polite. She asked questions about his work and how long he's lived in town, and she started to relax as he did most of the talking.
When they got to the diner, John helped her out of the truck again. He bends her hand as he walked her in, and they choose a booth in the corner. A waitress came around with menus and told them she'd be back in a minute for their drink orders.
"Are you going to make me come home with you?"
The question caught him off guard. He sputtered a couple of times, looking at his sweet deer in shock. "Pardon me? I won't be making you do anything. Everything from this point forward is your choice, sweet'art. Just wanna be with my sweet mate."
Doe took a second to inhale and squeeze her thighs. Damn hes not only hot but fuck he cares.
ngl you’re doe x vegan has revived me in a way that i didn’t know i needed 😭 butttt how would cregan be around doe! reader that’s with child (finally) and nesting?
angel, i had this drafted, u mindreader 🫶 inbox open for cregan!
.* semi-resolved angst hurt/comfort; emeto mention; reader is pregant; cregan is alicent level of self punishing in this; tldr cregan is anxious when ur pregnant; doe!verse but standalone
he’s had your maids dismissed. steam curls into the air of the bathing chamber, trapped in by the closed door windows and doors. your eyes focus on the tall stained glass panel as cregan’s hands skate up and down your back.
he’s close enough that his breath hits the back of your neck, warm and even and grounding. there’s a wooden stool that you use to lotion your legs — hes dragged it to the edge of the bathtub, sitting close enough that his chest brushes your back where you sit submerged in the water.
no one would think cregan stark to be so gentle. one hand rests on your shoulder, the other running a tallow soap lathered cloth down your spine. he isn’t like this for anyone else.
“do you still feel unwell?” he asks, voice soft and steady. up and down the cloth goes, dornish jasmine seeping into the air.
he sees the way your head bobs a little yes from where it rests between your knees, drawn to your chest. he doesn’t sigh, not quite — it’s a clipped breath outwards, worried, not exasperated.
the cloth retracts, he hangs it over the edge of the tub. both hands come to your shoulders, thumbs digging into your traps. it hurts; it feels wonderful. “the maester said it would be like this,” he reasons.
“it’s torture,” you grumble, gazing into the murky water. it’s opaque with yak’s milk; a septa had offered some wives tale about soothing properties, cregan had clung to it desperately.
“i’m sure,” he replies genuinely. his hands slide down, hooking under your armpits to ease you back. you let him, boneless, head falling against his sternum. you had refused to let him in the bath with you, but the thought of him in another room was detestable. he can’t find it in himself to care as he scoops soaking hair over one of your shoulders, leaning down to kiss the crown of your damp head. bathwater soaks down the front of his linen tunic, the memory of your head and shoulders meeting his chest. “you’re handling it all so well,” he murmurs, “you’ve done so good.” his voice is low, soft, sweet.
he breaths in the jasmine-sweet scent of your freshly washed hair, knuckles meeting your sternum and rubbing carefully up and down. something that he’d told you once, pressure on the sternum lifting heaviness from the chest; it always worked to alleviate your anxiety, or maybe that was just his hands on your skin.
“my girl.” he breaths it like a prayer, turning his head to chest his cheek on your head. he swallows, and the bob of his throat against the back of your scalp is strangely intimate. such closeness is akin to sharing a body — you can feel the rise and fall of his chest, the way the breath enters and leaves his nose, the tick of his jaw. “i’m sorry this is happening now.”
you turn your head, dislodging his contemplative position. confused doe eyes meet his, cold grey piercing your disposition. “why are you sorry?”
you watch his face change — he isn’t expressive, but you’ve learning to watch for little things. his eyes squint, his brows pulls in a bit, and he bits the inside of his bottom lip. concern, anxiety, guilt. “we haven’t been married long enough for this.” he shakes his head, nose twitching in what seems to be disgust. “i didn’t mean for this to happen.”
the uncharacteristic potency of self loathing is shocking. you gaze back at him, trying to piece together how to respond; cregan’s fingers comb through your wet hair.
he sighs, stroking the pad of his thumb over your cheekbone. “i’m sorry,” he backtracks. “i’m not ungrateful for this, for you, i just-” he stops, shaking his head. his fingers catch a knot, and he apologizes again when you wince. “i wish you’d had more time to settle in,” he reasons, working through the tangle. “you’ve not been here for three of the moon’s turns. you should have time to…” he shakes his head. “you should have had more time.”
“oh, cregan,” you murmur, reaching up for him.
he catches your wrist, bringing your palm to his lips. “don’t have sympathy for me,” he breaths into your skin. “my worry is for you, dear.”
dear. you shudder under the weight of the affection.
until recently, he'd only extended his endearment to 'sweet girl.' now you were subject to 'dear,' 'my love' on the rarest occasion.
he'd whispered all of them into the back of your neck the first night that you'd been sick into the hour of the nightingale, like a physical expression of his love might fix you. he'd prayed to the same gods that he'd sworn not to believe in as the cold northern sun rose on your boneless body, finally asleep on the stone floor. all natural, his mother assured him later, all ladies are sick when they're with child. that did little to ease him.
cregan had always struggled to articulate what he felt. if he let himself be as gentle as he wanted, perhaps it would all translate. if you understood that 'sweet girl' meant 'i love you,' then his soft 'darling' while he washed vomit from your hair was to say 'i'm sorry.'
he draws his hand through the mirky water, you watch as it moves, the ripples that it stirs up. "it's cooled," he states, "you should get out."
you nod; had you wanted to stay in the safety of the once-steamy, jasmine scented bathing chamber, there would be no point in fighting with him. you hadn't the energy.
cregan hauls you up, curling his fingers around your bicep and bracing your waist with his other hand. he's cognizant of how little fight there is in your body, how completely sapped you are of energy — too drained to even consider being ashamed that its he who drys you off. rich cotton against your sensitive skin, and cregan draws you in when you start to shiver. he's warm through his clothes, wrapping the towel around your shoulders and cradling your body to his.
its silent for a while, only interrupted by the occasional chatter of your teeth. he supports most of your weight so that you don't have to worry about standing on wobbly legs, one hand anchored to the back of your neck like he might radiate warmth through your whole body like that. you clutch at his biceps to keep yourself upright, and his heart clutches in his chest. it's just in his nature to worry.
he helps you dress in a cotton chemise, drapes his abandoned cloak over your shoulders, and hooks one arm under your knees to scoop you up.
you try to protest being carried, he intercepts before you can speak. "let me," he urges. "please. it makes me feel better."
you can't argue, so you drop your head against his shoulder complacently. he smells like pine and vetiver and something warm, like the incense that he burns in his solar. the crackle of the fire, the thick quilt on the bed, the smell of cregan's skin. you're asleep in his arms before he can settle you into the bed. your warm, even breaths against his pulse, and for the first time in days the tension in his chest gives.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
𖦹 please don't feed my writing to any ai chatbot as source material. i will find you.
summary✄ you and joe grew up together, best friends since kindergarten. you fell in love, getting into a relationship when you were 16. but when you got into a petty fight and broke up, he tried to move on, and you went missing
wc✄ 2k
warnings✄ mentions of religous trauma abusive relationships manipulation cult like themes mentions of child abuse mentions of sa / csa lmk if i missed anything
notes✄ i know that technically ethel went with Isiah willingly, but I think the narrative of being forced into his truck fits better for this. this kinda has different snips of the backstory that will be more explored in the other chaps this first chap will be shorter, but the rest of them will be longer (for the tweets, I'd didn't want to put like arlington police bc I didn't know if it was like bad to do)
masterlist♱
ethel cain masterlist♱
it was the first day of kindergarten, you walked in all alone. every other kid had their mom or dad holding their hand and guiding them in. but you didn’t
you stood in the corner, watching everyone make friends and the adults talk. everyone seemed to get along perfectly. except for you. the parents gave you pitying looks, teachers wondering why you were alone
you stood all alone, small fingers fidgeting with the straps of the disney princess backpack you had begged your mom for. in class, you sat alone in the corner again, while the other kids sat with the friends they had already made
when it was recess time, you sat on a swing sniffling, listening to the other kids laugh and play together, while you sat alone. a brown haired boy walked over to you, sitting on the swing next to you “why are you crying?” he asked
you sniffled and rubbed your eyes ‘i don’t have friends’ you mumbled sadly. he stood up and walked up to you, holding his hand out. you looked up
“i'll be your friend” he smiled and you took his hand, letting him lead you to the slides "my name's joe, what's yours?" he asked "y/n" you had shyly responded back
from that moment, you two were inseparable. you spent a lot of time with him, always playing on the playground together, sitting by each other in class, eating lunch together
your parents often forgot to give you lunch, so he always brought extra food to share. you would go to his house a lot. you didn't grow up in a good home. your parents were very strict and religious, and they often neglected you
his parents accepted you as their own, always making sure you ate enough and had a smile on your face
everytime your parents forced you to join them in something religious, you always wondered the same thing. jesus, if you’re there, why do i feel alone in this room with you?
freshmen year came, and you had just turned 14. a boy had asked you if you wanted to go to the movies, and you had been so excited. you had never gone on a date before
you had put on the prettiest dress you had and asked joe's mom to do your hair
you had met up at the theater "you look nice" he had complimented you. you hadn't noticed the way his eyes lingered on your thighs. you thought he truly liked you "thank you" you had smiled
the theater had been pretty empty, a few other people in the front. you two had sat in the back. he told you it was the best spot to sit, and you figured he must be right
you were having such a good time, you didn't even think anything of it when he set his hand on your thigh
when his fingers had slipped under your dress, you looked at him "what are you doing?" you had asked. he had shaken his head "just watch the movie" he whispered, and you slowly turned back to the movie
you sat frozen the whole time, trying to pretend it wasn't real. the way you always had. it didn't stop until the movie ended. he acted as if nothing happened, and you walked home crying
you went home and told your parents what happened. your father screamed at you, calling you every degrading name in the book, and your mother slapped you
now you were walking up joe's porch. his parents weren’t home, so you were glad you wouldn't have to explain it to anyone else. you knock on his door, sniffling. he opens it, his smile instantly falling into a concerned frown when he sees your tears
“hey what’s wrong?” he asked, pulling you inside. you didn't reply, just buried your face in his chest, choking on a sob. he wrapped his arms around you, rubbing your back
he had walked you over to the couch, where you cried in his arms for a while. he didn't push, just waited for you to speak
"he didn't want me, joe. he hurt me" you hiccuped, his arms tightening around you. it was the same way he had the first time I told him about what your dad would do to you
"i won’t let anyone hurt you again" he promised
soon it was junior year. you and joe had started dating when you were 16. everything was perfect. he was the best boyfriend, and you loved him so much. he knew how to treat you
but after a petty fight, you two broke up. you had agreed to stay friends, both still in love, he had started to get more focused on popularity, and you had drifted off. you felt so alone
your parents started to be harder on you. you were growing up and they didn't want you to be a disappointment. they forced you to go with them to church twice a week with them
you slowly stopped talking to joe, knowing if you did, you would tell him everything and your parents would be furious
slowly, it was getting to be too much. you couldn't take it anymore
you decided you didn't want to live like this anymore. so you wrote a note to Joe and set it on his doorstep before walking down the road, not knowing where you were headed
besides, the fates already fucked you sideways, it couldn’t get worse
you had been walking around on the side of the road when a car had pulled up near you. a teenage boy was inside. he asked you a simple crazy question ‘wanna see the west with me?’
you were hesitant. as much as you wanted to run away, you didn't know that you trusted a strange man. through manipulation and threats, and eventually him getting out and forcing you in the car, you travel with him. you fall in love, and you’re happier there, because he told you you should be
who knew what fear a man like him brings upon a woman like you?
when joe had come home, he saw the note. he picked it up, seeing his name on it. he walked inside, sitting on his couch and reading it
'dear joe
you are my best friend. you always have been. you're the only person who's ever understood me. you've always taken care of me. i love you so much and i always will. i can't stay anymore. i can't handle this hurt, and i can't hold you back
you've been the only person who's loved me my whole life, and i'll never forget that. maybe one day we'll meet again. maybe one day we'll finally live our love story
love, your y/n'
joe lay in his apartment, fidgeting with the friendship bracelet. it had been 15 years since he had seen you. not a day went by that he didn’t think of you. you were his first love, his current love, his forever love
everyone had said you ran away. and he didn’t doubt it. you hated your life back then, but he wished you hadn’t left him. he wished he hadn’t let you go. he constantly thought of your letter. he truly hopes you will come back
sure, every small diner had seen your face at least once or twice. but never enough to find you
never enough to bring you back. so he waits every day, hoping for a day to come where you'll show up. he sighs, turning his lamp off and pulling the covers over himself
he stares at the ceiling for a while, lost in thought
around midnight, he turns in bed and freezes. he sees your face in the doorway. you’re dressed in a beige nightgown that's torn and bloodied. you soft beautiful skin is covered in dirt and marks, each one more visible as you walk to the bed
"y-y/n?" he stutters, frozen in shock "hi joe" you whisper "you're here?" he asks, to which you sit on the edge of the bed "where have you been?" he adds
"i'm lost joe. i need you. i need you to save me" you say "what do you mean? you're right here?" he looks at you , still shocked and confused
"please joe, find me. please don't let him hurt me even more" you whisper, a tear falling down your face "w-what do you mean i-who hurt you?"
"please joe, i know you'll find me" you whisper once more. he reaches out to touch you and…
he jolts awake right before he can touch you. no no no. it had to be real. it felt so real
he looks around. it was all a dream. why did you look like that? who hurt you? where were you really?
his phone buzzes on the bed next to him. the wallpaper shows a childhood picture his mom had taken. you and him, hugging and smiling. the bruise on you arm was visible, a reminder of the childhood you lived
he unlocks his phone and checks his messages, trying to shake off his dream, seeing several messages from his friends
maya
isn't this the girl
charlie
man, you should check the news
gaten
hey, isn’t this the girl you were talking about?
*article attached*
he frowns. he clicks on the link, leading him to a news site. his heart almost stops when he sees the headline
'texas missing woman found in georgia after 14 years'
next to the headline was a picture of you. he opened social media, seeing himself tagged in tons of posts about it
police department
missing arlington women, y/n buxbaum, officially spotted in Atlanta 15 years after going missing. suspect arrested this morning
user; isnt that girl who's missing the girl that Joe talked about on that one interview?
more..
-
he stares at his phone. you were spotted? his phone started ringing, he immediately answers
"hello?" he speaks into the phone as he walks to his room to find his shoes
"hello, is this joe?" the woman on the end of the line asks "yes, this is him. who is this?" he puts his phone on speaker, setting it next to him as he sits on the edge of the bed, pulling socks
"my names linda, i'm one of the members of a search party. we've been told you knew the woman, correct?" he pauses. he picks the phone back up "yeah..yeah i did" he confirms
“well we couldn't get in reach with any family of hers, and i think someone she was close to should join the search. are you able to? we’ll have security" linda asks "yes" joe agrees without a second thought, pulling his sneakers on
"great, we’re all meeting at the police department downtown in one hour. we’ll see you there" she says before hanging up. joe immediately heads straight outside, getting in his car and calling maya
"hey, whats up?" maya asks "i had the craziest dream. y/n was in my room, and she was all hurt, and she was begging me to find her, it felt so real. and then i woke up and she’s been spotted. it’s like a sign" he says
"maybe it is" maya agrees “will you help me on the search? i want as many people possible” he asks, to which she agrees “sure, of course. i’ll call up the others too”
“thank you so much. meet me at the station in an hour” joe hangs up and grips the wheel. he just needs to trust his instincts and hope his dream was right
but part of him didn't want it to be. he wanted to find you, but he was terrified of finding you the way you had been in his dream. you had looked so scared, so hurt. he couldn't imagine seeing you like that in person
starting his car, he took a few deep breaths. today was the day. he was going to find you
a/n✄ this first chap kinda sucked buttttt i hope y’all enjoyed, lmk your feedback if you’d like. i’ll be posting the next chapter soon along with other fics
My only big thought here is just whenever Sam and Dean get in a fight, their antlers hit each other and clank around an doe!reader is scared but also trying to suppress a laugh just a lil bc this shit is fucking funny.
I love the idea of small-town brown bear shifter John Price and a new resident spotted doe reader who is a horticultural technician and now runs the plant nursery on the outskirts of town.
Thinking about how, customary to bear courtship rituals, Price would stalk around the Doe, make sure she was safe, (without her knowledge of course) he would scent the trees surrounding her workplace, and when he found out they lived in the same neighborhood? Her whole property smelt strong of bear.
Of course, stupidly, he didn't consider how terrifying that would be for a Doe. Predator and Prey dynamics in hybrids weren't as strong as it might be in nature, but that didn't mean an overwhelming bear scent following her everywhere wasn't terrifying.
The deer had come to this town for a reprieve. She lived in the city where it was bustling, and there was nowhere for her to graze or two into any instincts. She didn't even know any other deer in the city she lived in, just birds, dogs, cats, rodents, etcetera. She just wanted to be a deer in peace.
She would think that this bear was trying to run her out of town. She didnt know why, just terrified of running into this bear face to face.
Johns attempts of courtship weren't working, and now he was just interested. He started asking every cervidae creature in town. What were the courtship rituals for a deer? What was customary for her?
Almost everything he was told either crossed over with what he was already doing or had to do with antlers. He doesn't have antlers. What does he do?
And so he took the human approach. He spent two or so days prepping his backyard to house a variety of fruits and veggies. He generally wasnt a fan, but deer were so he may as well be prepared. Once he had a garden made, he took his truck down to her nursery.
He waited down the road for almost an hour for her shop to open, but he could smell her, putting around in the actual greenhouse. When the time hit '10', he began driving into the property.
A bell jingled as he opened the door, and he was met with the smell of his deer, and also the most exquiste, earthy, sweet smells from all the flowers and fruits. Nobody was behind the counter, and John took the opportunity to look around.
"Ill be out in a minute!"
He saw daylilies, pansies, violets, morning glory, grapes, lettuce, spinach. All flowers and fruits and veggies deers liked. There were some other plants he didnt know the names of, lots, actually.
When the doe finally came to the counter, she tensed, and her smelt went sour. "Please i just want to live here in peace." The adrenaline pouring off her body almost made Price want her more.
"Relax, sweet'art. Not trynna run you out of town. Quite the opposite, actually." He took a cautious step forward, with his hands up for effect. "Smelt your sweet scent as soon as you entered town." Maybe it was still just her fear waring to shock, or maybe she was starting to understand the situation.
When a male meets their mate, they can smell them, and other males can sense the difference, but the frmales dont. They can't scent a male until the male nips their scent glands. This was something eugenics produced over years of women dying before breeding age due to an overwhelming amount of scents or alphas trying to claim them.
(This is not to say females can't smell a male generally, just not as deep and harsh. For example, doe can tell that there's a strong bear following her, she doesn't know he's her mate)
The deer started to become antsy, nervously shaking her fingers and swaying from side to side. "Come on now, dearie," the irony wasn't lost of Price either as he stepped even closer to the counter. "I know you start cleaning up at 6. I'll be coming back then, and we can have a nice dinner at Joanie's and talk about our situation."
It wasn't a question. It wasn't an invitation. It was firm command. She'd be taken out on a date by her grizzly bear mate, whether she wanted to or not.
Some more sweet lil doe reader x bear!price pretty pretty please
Coming up🤭
@just-lilita @phineas-is-chaos @20faded20
Price thought his heart would burst out of his chest when he heard those meek little words. He chuffed in both amusement and pride. Is this little doe crazy? Of course he would take her home with him.
Doe had been evidently nervous the whole drive to Prices. John didn't push. He kept the radio low to tune out her worried thoughts and drove with one hand on the center console. The drive was long, and it made Doe wonder why Price had come all the way out to where she worked in the first place.
About fifteen minutes into the drive, John noticed the little deer nearing her hand to his. She kept a couple of inches of distances for a few minutes before hesitantly brushing her fingers over his. When John looked to her, she was staring dead ahead as if trying to pretend her hands moved involuntarily. Maybe they did. Either way, John took the next step and grasped her hand in his fully, also keeping his eyes straight ahead, but with a subtle smirk on his lips.
It took another fifteen minutes after that for them to finally pull into the driveway of a very rustic 'cabin-in-the-woods' type place. The home was surrounded by trees from the back and was very private. There was a wrap-around porch and looked so homey. A pile of chopped logs with an axe still in it, a fire pit surrounded by nice wooden lawn chairs, and an empty bottle of beer sitting on the table on the porch.
The whole place smelt like bear, but more specifically, like Price. It was smoky, woody, and smelt of rain and something almost chocolatey. Doe swore that even if this was some sort of trap, she'd die happy just from the aroma.
'This would be the perfect home to raise some fawns' a thought that entered her mind and quickly took over as John got out of his truck. He helped her out, gently brushing her back as she hopped out, playing the guise of smoothing her clothes.
She sort of trailed behind him as he showed her to the door, but before they even made it up the steps to the porch, Price turned around to face his deer.
"Your nervousness will send me into an instinctual overdrive if you dont tell me what's wrong." He punctuated the last words, not trying to scare her by any means but fully needing her to understand his point. He would be in his own space, that alone can make a bear feel instinctively protective, now anxiety is pouring out of every pore of his mate, he didn't want to scare her by giving into instincts.
She looked almost astounded that he was so blunt and took a second to regain any bit of composure she had. "Uhm. You're very, ehr-" Price raised his eyebrows, urging her to continue. She put her head down as she answered a bit more quietly. "You smell strong of, uh- Arousal?"
John sputtered a little bit, trying to take in his own scent to the best of his ability. He was aroused, obviously. How couldn't he be with the sweet doe gripping into him for a quarter-hour? But he hadn't realized the smell would be that obvious. A small speckle of thought entered his head, something about how responsive her body naturally was to his smell depsite not being mated made a code switch in his brain, but he was levelheaded enough to understand that this was not the time.
"Absolutely nothing will happen tonight, or any other night, that you have not initiated or been made aware and agreed to. I will not abuse any sort of power you believe i have over you, that I can promise you."
Her body's demeanor changed tenfold as he said that, and he held in a smirk as he smelt spurts of her own arousal. Such a strange little doe.
If John had been at all embarrassed by what Doe had admitted, he didn't show it. That comforted her as that what had her nerves going. She didn't want him to change his demeanor. He was so kind right now, so gentle, and it felt so right to be with him, but if she pissed him off, that could all change.
He led her into the living room, sitting her on the couch, setting up the tv, and going to the kitchen to grab drinks. He didn't ask what she wanted. He didn't ask anything. He just did.
It was comforting in a way not to have to think about anything. Maybe it was just her, but questions like "Would you like a drink?" "What kind" and "What do you wanna watch" would make her uncomfortable. It would make her question the proper answers. Maybe he knew that?
When he came back, he was holding a little tray. There was a platter of snacks like fruits and pretzels and nuts, and two glasses, one filled with brown liquid the other with pink. Doe really hoped the pink one was hers.
It was hers, and it was a strawberry lemonade cocktail, very sweet with little alcohol, Price didn't want her getting drunk. Not tonight atleast.
They watched the 2009 Avatar movie. Strategically picked by Price due to length, he sat less than an arms distance away, and for the first little while, it was more then awkward. Price was touchy. He was sitting less than two feet away from his destined mate, and he was trying to control his impulses to cage her in his arms and protect her from the world.
After maybe twenty minutes, Doe sighed dramatically, causing Johns head to snap towards her from the tv, his attention already on her, but now more focused. She didn't say anything, just tossed herself closer to him, curling herself under one of his arms. His body went from stiff to relaxed in seconds, like she knew what he needed to calm down.
They fell asleep like that, on the couch cuddled together. John woke up sometime around 4 or 5 in the morning, a text from one of his boys wondering if he was still hosting this sundays football get-together. He didn't answer then, he could answe later, at that point he just wanted to lay with his doe.
we been knew but unfortunately for doe!reader cregan loves to bite… i think he goes to kiss your hand and gives it a little nip to see how your nose scrunches up
cregan is a biter and it FREAKS doe!reader out!! but he doesn't mean to ☹️ he feels bad ☹️
doe!reader who isn't used to the way that cregan like to touch her, how he's drawn to it. when he holds her waist or rubs her back, thats fine, but it's the casually intimate touches that drive her nuts.
smoothing a hand over her hair in front of his bannermen, or tracing his fingers over her arm in council meetings. when he backs her up against the cold stone in the hallway, or presses her body to his, just to smooch her cheek and tell her that she looks pretty. kissing her on the mouth in public — thats the worst.
kissing her hand is tame, and well within the bounds of what she's comfortable with — he abuses that privilege.
the little nips bother her more than anything at first, when he kisses her knuckles so sweetly only to clip the soft skin with his teeth. he's a worshiper, so kissing across her fingers and down her arms is the natural progression as she grows comfortable with him.
he'll kiss from the back of her wrist, up her fingers, and back down into the dip of her palm. he's passionate about it, dedicated to it; he curls his fingers around her wrist to hold her hand to his mouth. doe!reader starts to get a little unsettled when his mouth moves up her thumb, and the tip of the didgit scrapes against the smooth edge of his incisor. his tongue darts out for a second, wetting a strip of her soft skin. before she can wiggle her hand from his grasp, he moves it for her; his canine drags the inside of her thumb. font and back teeth meet on either side of the thin muscle that makes the curve of webbing — pressure, not pain. she jerks a little, but he holds her hand still, taking his teeth away to press gentle kisses to the front of her hand.
i bet doe!reader gets soooo so skittish around wolf!cregan. the predator smell, his size and the physicality, how attracted she is to him when she knows she probably shouldn’t be…… he’s def the type to hush her (“shhh, settle down now, pet”), to try and overwhelm her senses to get her to settle down, be it by squeezing her sides, scenting her, kissing her throat, and eventually biting. he calls her pet/little one/little doe/sweet thing, always in that deep, raspy, slightly dangerous voice of his.
#needthat
i love u nonny ur in my hall of fame 💗 i didn't even have time to write doe!reader hcs (got logged out of tumblr, thank u computer) !! and u read my mind!!
i imagine doe!reader and cregan to be married — arranged, or at least political union. shes afraid of him, because of everything shes been told about big, scary, brutish, northern men. she's also... she's also really into him. yeah...
not at first! hes fit, but its muddled by the apprehension and discomfort in the cold, drafty castle. the intensity of her attraction comes with his gentleness. the gowns and furs that he has made just for her, to keep her warm; her bath oils that he sends for from dorne; how he guides her through crowded halls with one hand on the curve of her waist to keep her close to him.
it's overwhelming, even when she warms up to him. cregan is big — tall and broad, his sharp features and long hair harden him more. some of the largeness comes not from his physicality, but from his aura. he's intimiating — he's the wolf of the north.
cregan has one set demeanor in public: stoic, straight faced, unflinching and unaffected by anything. he commands a room by how unsettling his presence is. his voice is always even and smooth, he never yells, rarely snaps at any of his bannermen.
i don't take cregan to be big on pet names (but we could discuss this...) his lady has a name, he likes it, he thinks its the respectful thing to refer to her by that given name. lady star sometimes, or my lady — thats reserved mostly for company. "dear" is his go to: my dear, dear girl, or just dear. its a little awkward coming out of his mouth, a little unnatural at first. but he's trying to make his lady more comfortable around him, and lord cerwyn told him that terms of endearment will help her warm up.
doe!reader is so freaked when cregan's careful facade breaks apart in private. he's unnervingly gentle with her when she's brought to winterfell the first time, dropping his voice to a soft lull when he speaks with her, refraining from touch until he can tell that she's comfortable with him. he shields her through the crowd at their wedding, gathers the train of her gown so she won't trip. he refuses a bedding ceremony, and assures her in the private of his chambers that they need not consumate.
he's freakishly attuned to her. she stays guarded months into their marriage, keeping him at arms length. he doesn't fight it, he works with her, lets himself be present when he's needed and doesn't force it when he isn't. if he's there when she needs him, she'll want to come to him more — this is his thinking.
because he's the only person she knows in winterfell, he's who she seeks out when she's nervous or overwhelmed or frightened. he's good at regualting her. holding her against his body and pressing little kisses down the side of her face; rubbing her back while she sits in his lap.
he can manage it when she won't tell him, too. he knows what to look for, the signs she displays when something is eating at her. the go-to is to slip his hand beneath her hair and rub the back of her neck with his thumb, soothing little semi-circles into her hairline. he finds that slipping an arm around her waist and pressing his palm against her stomach works too: i can feel you breathing, it tell her, slow down.
i could talk about this all day. predator x prey, wolf x deer, but he'd never imagine hurting her. sinking his teethn into the soft skin of her neck is just for fun.
