#niles look away

[cainlane]

MY MAN MY MAN MY MAN MY MAN

[mmmthornton]

She was so real for this

[king-dra]

it is actually really funny though how everyone praises G1 Michigan for being funny considering the fact that his attitude is like 85% of the reason why balam ultimately loses

[evanpeterswhoresblog]

Guilty as Sin?

James Potter x f!reader (mentioned), Remus Lupin x f!reader

warnings: smut, protected p in v, lots of descriptions of what ifs (you’ll understand with the song), underage smoking, if you squint it may just be cheating but oh well, this is so good to me

summary: someone once told you, there’s no such thing as bad thoughts… right?

word count: 3k

a/n: i’m in love with this song from taylor’s new album!!! sorry if this characterization isn’t what you like but this concept has been eating me alive. i love remus tho. might be a part two if you guys want !!!

part two is here!!

~~~

Drowning in the Blue Nile

He sent me “Downtown Lights”

I hadn’t heard it in a while

~~~

“Oi y/n!”

You turned on your heels at the sound of your name being called. Down the hallway, you could see James Potter striding toward you. Despite the bodies of other students that filled the hall, you could see he was holding something in his hand. It looked big, and as he came closer and closer you could see more and more of what it was.

“Hello James, something I can help you with?” You asked once he was close enough to hear your normal tone. You looked down at his hands, you could see what he was holding clearly, it was a record. And from the cover of it, it looked to be a muggle one. “What’s that?”

James smiled his intoxicating smile and held the record up. “Something for you.”

You gasped and one of your hands moved up to cover your mouth. In his hands, he held the latest album of your favorite singer, Heroes by David Bowie. It had come out in October, and every time you searched for it, it was sold out. You traced your eyes over the beautiful shining black and white cover, you were practically speechless.

“How did you- when did you- James...”

“I have my ways, don’t worry about it,” the black-haired boy replied with a small laugh.

“It’s not close enough to be a Christmas gift, and you know my birthday isn’t till spring,” you observed out loud. Your eyes met his again and you blinked. “So, what’s this for?”

He shrugged. “For the past few weeks, I haven’t been the only one to take notice of how much you’ve been playing Bowie in the common room. And I heard you talking to Moony about how you haven’t got the new album yet... so here it is.”

He held it out to you and with delicate hands, you accepted the gift, still amazed. “James, you didn’t have to.”

“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to,” he said as he ran a hand through his hair. “I’m surprised Moony didn’t already get it for you.”

“Yeah...” You looked down for a moment before meeting his eyes again, and you smiled. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Play it tonight, put it to use. Anyway, I’ve got to run, I’m supposed to be helping Peter with his Charms homework. See you at dinner.”

He gave you another smile before turning and walking back the way he came. You were too preoccupied with the flawless record in your hands to say goodbye. For a split second, you felt your heart flutter with a feeling you knew you shouldn’t have felt. So, you pushed it away and restarted your walk to the dungeons.

You knew better than to let those thoughts linger in the open hallway.

~~~

My boredom’s bone-deep

This cage was once just fine

Am I allowed to cry?

~~~

“James got that for you?”

You had just put the record on, and the sound of David Bowie's voice began to fill the Gryffindor common room. Your cheeks almost hurt from how much you’d been smiling. On one of the couches, your boyfriend Remus sat, his typical book in his lap. You turned and flung yourself on the open spot next to him, nodding your head to the beat of the song.

“Yeah, he gave it to me earlier, isn’t it wonderful?”

Remus nodded; his eyes locked on his book. “It’s definitely something.”

You rolled your eyes. “You like Bowie too last I checked.”

“You play him so much I’m surprised not everyone likes him,” Remus replied. Suddenly he shut his book and turned his head to look at you. For a split second, you felt hope that he was going to just listen with you. But of course, that wasn’t the case. Instead, he rose from the couch. “I can’t concentrate with it playing, I’m going to go read in my dorm.”

“But we barely spend any time together Rem, unless it’s a shag,” you protested, anger suddenly taking you over. “When’s the last time we went on a proper date? Or anything at all? I’m so bored of this.”

Remus as usual, kept his composer and showed no sign of any emotion. “If you’re so bored you’re welcome to leave me.”

“You know that’s not what I want,” you said.

“Then I’m not sure what to tell you. You’re welcome to join me, you know where to find me.”

He left before you could say anything else.

You ran your hands over your face in frustration. How did your relationship come to this? You started dating Remus in fifth year, and it had been the happiest moment of your life. He was your first love, the boy you shared almost all of your firsts with actually. You loved him more than anyone, yet it never seemed to be enough. So, you began to give up.

After all, it was your last year at Hogwarts, after it ended, you’d never have to see him again. Because really, was so much pain worth a moment of happiness? You didn’t believe so anymore.

Instead of following him up to his dorm as you would have the year prior, you simply laid back on the couch and enjoyed the first listen of the album.

~~~

I dream of cracking locks

Throwing my life to the wolves or the ocean rocks

Crashing into him tonight, he’s a paradox

I’m seeing visions, am I bad?

Or mad? Or wise?

~~~

The first time you ever thought of James in the way you knew you shouldn’t be was about a year into your relationship with Remus. After he had begun his distant behavior, his cold manners, and all those awful things. Previously, you had only ever felt attracted to the one Marauder. You saw Peter as a sweet little brother, you saw Sirius as an older annoying brother, and you saw James as well, a friend. That was until one late December night.

You and Remus had one of your arguments and you went outside for a smoke to help with your anxiety. For a few minutes, you sat in silence, the cold air and smoke in your lungs a great distraction from the boiling fears that consumed your mind. You were afraid to lose Remus. More than afraid. So, you inhaled a deep puff of the cigarette to focus on something else.

“You’ll catch a cold out here you know.”

You jumped at the sudden sound of a voice. James sat next to you, and you were perplexed at how he managed to sneak into the spot so quietly. You were also confused as to why he was there in the first place.

“If that’s the case then why are you out here?” You questioned as you let out a cloud of smoke.

He held up his hand and you passed it to him. “I had a... date anyway Filtch was in the corridor, so I ran out here. I doubt he followed, he and Mrs. Norris hate this time of year.” He inhaled a deep breath and passed the cigarette back to you. “Why are you out here?”

“A date? Is that what they call a shag now?” You laughed for a few seconds before your frown resurfaced. “Remus and I had a disagreement. We both said some nasty things, I needed to clear my head.”

“Ah, lovers quarrel. Are you all right? Remus can say some pretty nasty things when he’s mad,” James said as he pushed his glasses back up his nose.

You stared at him in silence for a moment. Never before had you realized how attractive he really was. Sirius was known to be the most attractive of the Marauders, but his crude personality, at least in your opinion, always outshined his natural features. James, however, since the start of sixth year, had matured. That meant he was no longer solely physically attractive; he also had an attractive personality. He was funny, caring, outgoing, and a leader. And of course, he was six feet tall with curly black hair and a perfect smile. Who wouldn’t be attracted to that?

You swallowed away the tingly feeling that shot through your fingers as you passed him the cigarette again.

He’s your boyfriend's best mate, stop thinking like that. You thought to yourself.

But as you watched him exhale another breath of smoke you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about how his perfect lips would feel against yours.

“I’m sure you two will make up by the end of the night, he really loves you,” he spoke. His eyes caught yours, you could see the small smirk on his all too good-looking lips. “Who wouldn’t fancy a girl like you anyway?”

“A lot of guys actually,” you responded.

His hazel eyes were practically glowing. “They’re blokes. Have you seen yourself y/n? You’re pretty, smart, funny, and you have a fascinating music taste. And anything Remus might’ve said to make you feel less than perfect well... he didn’t mean it. Trust me, that wouldn’t be possible.”

You laughed. “What? Me being less than perfect or Remus meaning what he said?”

“Both,” James answered.

He must’ve felt it too. That pull. You almost considered moving closer to him, but before you could make the decision James stood. You were relieved, the spell was broken. Your senses came back. You shouldn’t have even thought about what it would feel like to kiss James Potter.

“Let’s get back up to the tower, it’s pretty fucking cold,” he said.

You only nodded and threw your cigarette to the ground, crushing it with your sneaker after you stood. “All right.”

The two of you walked back up silently and you were greeted by an apologetic Remus. As he held you in his arms though, all you could think about were the thoughts you had previously thought.

~~~

What if he’s written “mine” on my upper thigh only in my mind?

One slip and falling back into the hedge maze

Oh, what a way to die

My bedsheets are ablaze, I’ve screamed his name

Building up like waves crashing over my grave

~~~

You gripped the red sheets of Remus’s bed so hard your knuckles turned white. Your breathing was heavy and unsteady. You tried to lean your head up to kiss him, but he wasn’t paying attention. It was something you’d grown used to. He liked to fuck you hard, not soft, not lovingly. No. He liked it intensely. You did too, but you also liked being gently taken care of.

Too bad he didn’t enjoy that anymore.

“Rem I-”

“I’m- almost done.” He cut you off, his breathless voice which once made you squirm now made you angry.

It was despicable, it was so wrong. And yet, you couldn’t stop yourself from doing it.

You closed your eyes and began to imagine someone else on top of you. Instantly, you felt a rush of heat to your cheeks at the picture in your mind. He would be so much more careful, and considerate. You’d heard from many girls how good of a lover he was. All of them would dote on how much he liked pleasing them. With his fingers, his mouth, and his...

You tried to squeeze your thighs together.

You should’ve stopped, you knew that. But your mind kept going.

You pictured him on top of you. His curls would be so soft. His hands would be callused from Quidditch. He’d use them on you, make you cum over and over again. You imagined how he’d curl his fingers so perfectly inside you.

“That’s it, my perfect girl,” he’d whisper to you as he went on with it. “You’re so good for me, aren’t you?”

Suddenly, without warning, you felt yourself reach a peak you hadn’t reached in a while. You squeezed your eyes shut and came at the thought of how good James Potter's praises would make you feel.

When Remus was done, he lay next to you on the bed breathless. “You came?”

You only stared at the top of his bed. “Yeah.”

~~~

These fatal fantasies

Giving way to labored breath, takin all of me

We’ve already done it in my head

If it’s make-believe

Why does it feel like a vow we’ll both uphold somehow?

~~~

There was something so exhilarating about being around James. Especially when the two of you were alone. It was as though every time the two of you had a moment alone, he gave you another reason to keep your fantasies going. Often, it made you wonder if he knew of your terrible thoughts.

The two of you sat by the black lake, the rest of your friends were further away playing a game of football. It was funny watching Lily get frustrated trying to explain the rules to Sirius, but it was even funnier when James commented on it from beside you.

“Oh no, he picked it up again. Evans is almost turning as red as her hair, I worry for her health,” the boy with glasses joked.

You snorted. “She’s going to have a heart attack from that boy mark my words.”

“I believe that. ‘Suppose it’s a good thing she’s thinking about becoming a Healer,” he replied.

You threw your head back as you laughed, one of your hands flying up to grip James’s arm. After a few seconds though, you composed yourself and pulled your hand off him as though it had been burned. Your eyes immediately found Remus across the field. He paid you no mind.

“Y/n can I ask you something a little personal?” James asked.

Your eyes met his and you didn’t hesitate to nod. “Sure.”

“You and Remus, things aren’t good between the two of you.”

“What gave that away?” You faked a smile. “But that’s not a question love.”

He really smiled. “I know. Sorry. My question was why are you still with him if things between the two of you are like this? I understand being in love, Merlin I tried to get Evans to go out with me for ages. But you and Moony... You used to be in our room all the time, you guys used to be so happy and I dunno around each other. Do you guys even go out anymore? I haven’t seen a snog between the two of you in a while.”

You inhaled a deep breath, your attention moving to the blade of grass between your fingers. “I suppose I’m afraid.”

“Afraid?”

“Yes, afraid. Rem he- he's my first everything and I dunno. If we broke up the friend group would be torn, and everything would be complicated. I suppose it’s just easier this way,” you answered. You hadn’t been this honest about how you felt in a long time. It felt good. And it felt even better when you caught James’s caring eyes.

“Do you love him?”

His question caught you off guard. “I did. I still think I do.”

You watched him look across the field for a few seconds before he did something you never would’ve expected. Ever so gently, he placed his hand over yours on the grass. All you could do was stare wildly into his eyes. Was this supposed to make your heart race and your face red?

“I care about you y/n, and I care about Remus as well. I want what’s best for both of you and if I’m being honest, I don’t think that’s with each other,” he said softly.

“Have you said this to him then?” You questioned, you found it hard to breathe with the feeling of his rough hand on yours.

James nodded. “Of course I have. He doesn’t like advice that much though.”

“He really doesn’t does he?” You mumbled.

“No, he doesn’t. But either of you can talk to me about anything. You know that right? You don’t have to be afraid of anything y/n. Even if you do break up I’ll be here for you, you won’t be alone. Course you have Lily and Mary and Marlene as well but...” You watched his face change as he trailed off. “I dunno. I thought it would be different with me.”

“Different?” You held your breath. “How so?”

His thumb moved across your skin; you bit down on your lip.

“You know...” he trailed off again, his voice quieter than before.

All you could think about was how good it would feel to pounce on top of him and kiss him till you couldn’t breathe. You’d do it, even out there in the open. You imagined how intense and fast it would be. A few minutes at most but a lifetime of pleasure no doubt. He’d make you feel things you hadn’t felt in ages, he’d do whatever you asked. That’s just the person he was.

“James, you don’t even know the half of it,” you admitted softly.

“Love, I think I do.”

You could’ve fainted right then and there. His eyes were so mesmerizing, his voice sent goosebumps all over your body. It was terrible, despicable, and tragic. But oh, how fucking good it felt to be seen again. And as it seemed, James really saw you.

“James we can’t-”

“We aren’t doing anything.” He leaned closer to you. “And besides there’s no such thing as bad thoughts. Only your actions talk.”

“So you-”

“Yes, yes I do.”

“James...”

“I know I must sound like a god-awful prat but believe me I don’t want the two of you to break up so we can... No. I want you two to break up because both of you are miserable. And I do really care about the both of you, you’re my mates.” He explained quickly.

You turned back to the field and saw Remus slowly approaching. Without thinking you ripped your hand away from James’s as fast as you could and stood up. You took a few deep breaths before you looked down at James.

“If Remus and I do break up, I want you to know it’s not because of... all right?”

“All right.” He nodded.

“Good,” you said before turning and making your way out to Remus.

You knew what he wanted to do, and you would oblige.

You had about ten thousand more fantasies to think of during it anyway.

[wynnyfryd]

“Lemme in,” Eddie mumbles, lifting Steve’s arm to dip under it and tuck into his side.

“So demanding,” Steve laughs, but he lets himself be manhandled by his cuddlebug boyfriend. Eddie’s always a bit of a needy brat after he comes; Steve pets his hair and welcomes him in.

He curls into the offered space, pressing an ear to Steve’s heart, all those sex-frizzed curls catching on Steve’s stubble, and he throws an arm around him, settles in with a contented squeeze.

Steve goes back to reading his book. His eyes move diligently across the page, but his focus flows like river water over smooth bed stone: too slippery to catch hold, too inevitably drawn home by the tide, the waves singing Eddie, Eddie, Eddie as they break against the shore.

Eddie starts humming a tune under his breath just as Steve starts to nod off, and Steve looks down at him through drooping lids, his heart clenching with some unbearably soft thing. He kisses the crown of Eddie’s head. “Whatcha singing?”

“Mm,” Eddie smiles gently, “just some Patsy. Your heart’s beating at the perfect tempo for it. Here, listen.”

He takes one of Steve’s hands, laces their fingers together and rests them both against Steve’s chest, and he croons to the rhythm of Steve’s slowly thudding pulse.

“See the pyramids along the Nile.”

Fuck, his voice is gorgeous. Low and deep, a soft, rumbly baritone with just a hint of gravelly rasp.

“Watch the sunrise on a crocodile.”

Steve smiles as his accent slips out, that subtle, rural twang that makes him pronounce it crocky-dile. The unbearably soft thing swells in his chest, seeps into his limbs; sinks into his bones.

“Just remember, darlin’, all the while… Come on,” Eddie squints up at him, “do you not know your Patsy Cline?”

Steve bites his lip. His heart’s going to explode. “I love you,” he sighs. The words slip out so easily. Second nature, like Steve’s said them a million times before.

He tenses when he realizes that he hasn’t. He hasn’t said them, not to Eddie. Not until right now. “Shit,” he blanches, “I, uh—”

“Nuh uh,” Eddie cuts him off, his smile widening to show off all his cute teeth, his pretty dimples, his sparkling brown eyes. “No take backsies, baby,” he teases, barely holding back a bubble of delighted laughter at Steve’s expense.

Brat. Steve holds his gaze.

Eddie’s smile falters, falls away entirely as his lips part softly and his eyes go hooded and Steve’s stomach clenches with want. Eddie brings their hands to his mouth, sucks a wet kiss to their interwoven knuckles. “Will you say it again?”

Steve trembles. “I love you.”

Another kiss. A gentle bite. “I love you, too.”

[deerlino]

DENYING THE OBVIOUS

— “i'm not falling in love,” he says, while he's actually falling the hardest. minho's in such deep denial, it's like he's drowning in the nile.

words ༯ 0.8k / pairing ༯ lee minho x gn!reader / tags ༯ best friends to lovers (kinda), childhood friends, mutual pining, fluff, humor, teasing & banter, arcade games, unspoken feelings, slice of life / content warnings ༯ fluff and more fluff !

a/n ༯ eh, this one's not my top-notch work, had a few bumps and hiccups, but hey, it's alright. took me ages to write tho. 😭 wanted to really nail that denial part, but i guess it's decent enough. hope you still got a kick out of it ! <3

“I’m not falling in love,” he says.

You stare at Minho, half-smirking, half-annoyed. He’s sprawled out on your bed, flipping through one of your old comic books, pretending he’s way cooler than he actually is. His hair is a mess—he’s too lazy to even run a hand through it properly. You roll your eyes.

“Sure, Minho. Whatever helps you sleep at night,” you say, tossing a pillow at his face. He barely dodges it, laughing. It’s that laugh that makes your heart skip a beat, but you refuse to admit it.

“Why would I be falling for you?” he teases, grinning. “You’re like... my best friend. And you’re a pain in the ass.”

You snort. “Right back at you, loser.”

He sits up, crossing his legs and leaning forward. “Let’s be real. If anyone’s falling, it’s definitely not me. I’m the epitome of self-control.”

You can’t help but laugh at that. “Yeah, right. You cried watching Toy Story 3.”

“Hey, that was emotional!” he protests, eyes wide in mock offense. “Andy grew up, okay? It’s relatable.”

“Sure, sure,” you say, shaking your head. You grab your phone and plop down beside him, scrolling through your messages. He leans over, way too close, trying to peek at your screen.

“Who’s texting you?” he asks, curious.

You nudge him away. “Nosy much? It’s just my mom.”

“Tell her I say hi,” he says, leaning back on his elbows.

You do, and your mom’s quick reply makes you giggle. “Tell Minho he’s still grounded for breaking my favorite vase last year.”

“Mom says you’re still grounded,” you say, showing him the message. He laughs again, this time falling back onto the bed, clutching his stomach.

“Man, your mom’s got a long memory.”

“Yup,” you agree. “So, Mr. Epitome of Self-Control, what’s the plan for today?”

He sits up, his eyes sparkling with that mischievous glint you know all too well. “Let’s go to the arcade. I bet I can beat your high score on Dance Dance Revolution.”

“You wish!” you exclaim, jumping up. “You couldn’t beat me if your life depended on it.”

As you both head out, the playful banter continues. At the arcade, it’s as if the rest of the world doesn’t exist. It’s just you, Minho, and the flashing lights of the game machines. You watch as he concentrates intensely on the dance mat, his tongue sticking out slightly. You can’t help but think he looks kinda cute like that. Not that you’d ever tell him.

“Ha! Beat that!” he shouts, pointing at his score. It’s higher than yours by a mere point. You roll your eyes.

“Beginner’s luck,” you mutter, stepping up to the mat. He watches you, that goofy grin still plastered on his face. You nail the moves, one by one, beating his score by a landslide.

“Told ya,” you say, smugly.

He pouts, crossing his arms. “Okay, okay. You win this time. But next time, you’re going down.”

As you both leave the arcade, he drapes an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. It’s a casual gesture, something he’s done a thousand times before, but tonight, it feels different. Warmer. More... significant.

“Hey, you hungry?” he asks, steering you towards the diner down the street. It’s your usual spot, a place that holds countless memories. As you slide into your favorite booth, Minho immediately starts teasing the waitress, who’s known you both since you were kids.

“Two milkshakes, please. Extra whipped cream for her because she’s extra,” he says, winking at you.

You stick your tongue out at him. “And fries. Don’t forget the fries.”

When the food arrives, you both dig in, talking about everything and nothing. It’s easy, comfortable. But there’s an undercurrent of something more. Something unspoken.

“Do you ever think about the future?” he asks suddenly, looking at you with those deep, thoughtful eyes.

You pause, a fry halfway to your mouth. “Sometimes. Why?”

He shrugs, looking away. “I dunno. Just wondering what it’ll be like. If we’ll still be... like this.”

“Like what?” you ask, genuinely curious.

He fiddles with his straw, avoiding your gaze. “You know. Best friends. Hanging out all the time.”

“Of course,” you say, nudging his foot under the table. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

He finally looks at you, a soft smile on his lips. “Yeah. You’re right.”

You both finish your food, and as you walk home, the silence between you is comfortable. His hand brushes against yours a few times, and each time, your heart skips a beat.

Back at your house, you sit on the porch, watching the stars. Minho leans back, propping himself up on his elbows, looking up at the sky.

“Thanks for tonight,” he says quietly.

You glance at him, surprised. “For what?”

He shrugs, not meeting your eyes. “Just... for being you.”

Your heart flutters, and you find yourself smiling. “Anytime, Minho. Anytime.”

He looks at you then, really looks at you, and for a moment, it’s as if the world stands still. Then he breaks the gaze, looking embarrassed.

“Okay, seriously, I’m not falling in love,” he insists again, more to himself than to you.

You laugh, shaking your head. “Keep telling yourself that, idiot.”

But as you both sit there, the night wrapping around you like a warm blanket, you know the truth. And maybe, just maybe, he does too.

© deerlino (est. 040624) ༯ heyo, did you enjoy this piece? if you did, maybe you could reblog, drop a comment, or shoot me an ask to let me know your thoughts. also, feel free to check out my other stuff! thanks a bunch for the support! <3

[mooshs-crack-headcanons]

could I ask for hcs for how day to day life would change for erwin, hange, and levi's s/o after dealing with their notable injuries they get during the story? IE erwin's arm, hanji's eye, levi's scars, eye, and fingers ect? I hope this was clear enough I hope you have a nice day/night!

Sure thing and don't worry I understood you're request just fine, thank you. I hope you're having a nice current timezone anon :)

(Gender neutral reader)

Erwin Smith

Things are... mostly the same as the were before for the most part. Not right away though because of course all the stuff with Rod Reiss, Historia, the man hunt for Survey Corps heads, and the fact Erwin was quite literally sentenced to death not that long after losing it so things were of course very hectic to where there wasn't really a good adjustment period until the two month preparation period to reclaim Shingashima.

It's a shame really, it was his dominant hand too, now all his paperwork is signed with a slight messiness to it he isn't exactly a fan of. But he makes do, relearning and rewiring how his brain works to make up for the lost limb. But even if he doesn't say it out loud, you know more than anyone exactly how hard it is for him - even if to so many people he has so many different airs and appearances to keep.

"Oh it's just an arm, a small sacrifice for the greater good of Humanity. Many good, amazing, talented people have lost more. This is a minor scratch compared to that."

That's what he told Nile that night over dinner together with you and Marie too after Erwin's charges had been offically cleared off the records. Truth be told, none of you at that table bought it, even if he really did intentionally mean it - you three knew him, and it was subtle but with how he struggled to pick up and properly use the fork in his sole surviving hand spoke all it need to. It was a very human struggle - one he did everything to hide.

He can't shave his face by himself anymore, he has trouble putting his uniform on every morning, he needs to relearn how to use ODM gear in a modified way, he has to do an awkward version of the salute now, he struggles with how to maneuver and get himself clean in the shower for the longest until he comes up with a routine on how to do it one handed, he still has enemies so he has to rewire how he thinks of defending himself, he has to learn how to deal with this odd... phantom feeling of his missing arm still being there like in the stories he'd hear from injured soldiers. It's all hard, but he manages, braves through but he's very thankful to have you and so many close others at his side that are willing to help him through it.

Also misses holding your hand. During a meeting with Queen Historia, her Majesty speaking excitedly about her plans to help out orphans - specifically those from Underground, as Levi had made sure to suggest - that as the core members of the Survey Corps stood in audience, he couldn't help but to glance over at where you stood at one side of him, nodding supportively along to Historia's desires about letting the children have fun on her new acquired farm lands, that does he stare at you - at your hand more specifically, as you are standing at his side with the dangling green military coat sleeve. It's rude, he knows, not paying attention as the Queen speaks about her noble causes but he finds himself not being able to help it. For just a second - and maybe, probably, he's deluding this - but for a second he feels the empty sleeve move on it's own to graze at your hand as to grab it - immediately gaining your attention as you stare over at him with your gorgeous eyes that every time he looks at him he falls in love all over again, over and over and the way your head questioningly tilts as if to ask him if something was wrong does his throat turn dry but his lips slightly part until-

A rough kick comes subtly to his paralleled ankle at his other side, Levi. The Captain doesn't look at him, he just keeps his arms crossed over his chest and intently listens to Historia's plans, however, he quietly scolds under his breath: "Pay attention."

Right... he was being very rude. He shouldn't get lost up in silly stuff like this in such important professional times such as these. But... when you suddenly reach over and hold onto the sleeve just as it were his flesh hand only weeks prior, so sincerely and lovingly... he can't help but the dumb smile on his face.

Everything will be fine. He's still the same man. There'll be struggle, some more getting use to - afterall, it's only been a couple weeks if not a month. There's plenty of recovery time in the future, he knows it. After Shingashima, he decides, maybe then he'll take some time off - spend with you and truly attune himself with the lacking arm. And maybe... maybe if he practices a bit first with his still lack of balance... he can still properly get down on his knees and take out that heavy ring in his breast pocket and ask you that question that's been on his mind.

Hanji Zoë

Going to be perfectly honest, the missing eye is the least of Hanji's issues at the moment. It's still a struggle, yes, the now partial blindness that they have to now wear a patch over and it takes a couple weeks to properly get accumulated and not bumping into walls, doors, tables, and other stuff on accident. But it becomes something that's like second nature to the new Commander very quickly on.

Now... the sight isn't the issue. The mountain of other things that came with Shingashima is, both mental and physical.

The obvious is the new Commander position, taking over Erwin's role puts so much on their shoulders and not just that - having to put on this brave face for the only - ten, including themselves, Survey Corps members that survived that bloodbath. They're in charge, everyone's looking up to them them for advice, for orders, for their command. Meanwhile... Hanji hasn't even had proper time to grief for not just one but two of their best friends... Erwin. Moblit... that first night was the roughest, coming back home, to their now old office and practically broke down crying where you had to comfort them all night - they didn't sleep for the next four days straight. They stayed cooped in that office while everyone else was on leave to go properly recover and only let you attend to them. Hanji isn't... the same after that - and everyone notices but doesn't dare to speak on it. They aren't the quirky titan-obsessed quack anymore. They were the calculating 14th Commander of the Survey Corps, Hanji Zoë.

Hanji is also particularly deaf in their right ear now, even if they were - mostly - uninjured from the Colossal Titan nuke, the sound of the impact definitely damaged it a bit before they were tossed in deep the well by Moblit. They've never said the fact out loud to anybody, only you and Levi are aware of the fact, but they read lips more often than not now. So you make sure you always make it able to where they can properly read your lips when you speak to them, and if you can learn a bit of sign language that would also be very helpful.

Doesn't sleep as much as they used to. They say it's because they're too busy - Commander work and still helping out ironing out political matters and issues that still came with Historia's crowing as the new Queen of the Walls and the hectic readjustment period of getting Maria's old settlements rebuilt and ready for resettlement - but that's not just it. There's the nightmares now. Keeping them awake just to not wake them up screaming in the middle of the night and you have to loose sleep comforting them. They should be fine with it, they tell themselves, after all what they said back on that roof to Mikasa was true; they've seen hundreds of their comrades die - no actually, not a hundred... too many more than that to count. And each time they've been strong about it... distracting themselves in their research not to let themselves dwell on it too long. But now... no matter how hard they tried, nothing worked. Maybe it's because it was Erwin and Moblit, the closest two other people they had besides you and Levi. Or maybe it's because only ten fucking people out of the entire fucking Regiment survived that damn day.

And now that the truth is out there, what titans actually are, titan research isn't fun anymore. They could very easily drag one in a captured area and poke amd prod and maybe learn a little bit more on how the transformation process actually works - Connie Springer's mother would be a good example but just looking at that boy they can't bring themselves to even suggest it - but they don't. They just... sign off on papers all day. Try not to think about overseas that much. Not yet anyway.

Things are slightly better by the time you've made contact with the volunteers and the core Scouts had made their way to embark on Marley. Seeing new sights, new people, new inventions none of you could possibly even dream of was quite thrilling. Hanji has a great time, holding onto your hand and sporadically yapping on and on about this "car," or this "tele - phone," or this "controllable electricity." in the exact same manner and way they use to about titans - that wide shit eating smile that goes from ear to ear plastered to their face for the first time in years you love to see as you nod along and just listen and let them ask Onyankopon every possible question that comes to their head - the man having trouble even keeping up with them. It's nice while it last... but it's not too long until the 14th Commander comes back when reminded about why you're all here in the first place...

It's late at night one night, the night before you were all supposed to go back to Paradis does Hanji stare up at the ceiling of your shared room in the Azumabito astate. They have their eye patch off - feeling comfortable around you for you to see the mangled socket that normally rests underneath - as they lie back in bed and listen to you shuffle around to get into your night-wear to get ready to join them.

"I'm thinking..." They finally speak, you look back over your shoulder at them - sprawled out on messy sheets with only wrapped circuit of bandages around their chest to hide the shape. "...I'm thinking that Armin should be my successor. What you think?"

You tell them he's a smart kid, very talented at what he does but... given, past history... you express your feelings that it might be a lot to put on him, given the position of it's weight. Erwin's weight. Erwin's impact. Hanji's impact.

Yeah, probably true, they tell you. And they reminisce on how they felt when Erwin had dropped the sudden bombshell on them... God. They were turning more into him everyday... but you crawl over to the bed and start to kiss their face before the Commander can sulk in it. You love them, you tell them that every chance you get and it never fails to leave a gentle look in Hanji's remaining eye, their expression softening. They joke, saying how much you probably miss the old up-beat crazy Squad Leader Hanji... but you shake your head, hands so loving on their face as you tell them straight up you love them now just as much as you did back then - damaged and all.

Without hesitation they ask you to marry them.

Levi Ackerman

Hard. Very hard at first. He can only particularly see, for the first year or so his stitches itch to a very grading degree, he has only eight digits on his hands where using the left is... very difficult, especially with his unique ways of holding things, and he can't walk. Humanity's strongest - that ridiculous title... now look at him. He "entered" the Survey Corps ten years ago and now every single person around him then is dead - except you. During those first few days of the Rumbling he didn't really think about it - with all the shit going on he had other things to think about than have time to really... process. But here he is now, couple days after the "Battle of Heaven and Earth," as he's hearing people call it. Now in his time to heal does it really set in. And at first he doesn't take it... well.

Once he's well enough to be off bedrest and he's in that "damn chairwheels," you and Onyankopon manage to buy him (hard to come by given how... very much damaged the world still is post Rumbling) you're going to have to have to keep your eye on him because for the first couple weeks he will try to get up and walk around - only damaging his hurt leg more. He feels restricted in it, he wants to go where he damn well pleases - you tried crutches for a while but... he's actually too short for the ones you manged to find post Rumbling, so he's left to that chair. It just takes him time to get use to, that's all. Eventually though, months after the Crisis has been over, it's when you start taking him out places - steering him through the rebuilding cities of Marley, talking about God knows what, that he starts to come around... maybe it's not that bad, annoying, sure, but he feels a lot calmer now. Those kids - Gabi and Falco, they help too. Sometimes they drive him around but he isn't exactly the biggest fan when they clumsily knock him into shit though but they're cute kids, they remind him a lot of much younger versions of Isabel and Farlan, how they'd bicker all the time...

The two of you have a cabin together in Marley, a nice cozy cabin that with the help of Onyankopon - who smuggily calls himself a bit of 'builder' - is modified a bit so that it's more accessible for Levi to move around, plenty enough ofvplace to roam so he doesn't feel couped up like he expressed he didn't want when getting the place. It's nice though, Levi's never had a real house before - only somewhat exception being that dingy little apartment he and Kenny used to live in Underground and then he lived with Farlan and Isabel in it too before joining the Corps. Besides that it's always just been either a whorehouse, military base, or temporary spots he wouldn't even shit in. All shared spaces. Not something that was... his. Though of course he lives with you, you are his s/o but you're different. No, he lived... with you. You own this house together. It's his. It's yours. It's yours (plural).

He can't clean as properly as he use to, getting down on the ground and scrubbing top to bottom and every single crack in the room, of course he can't do that anymore so - and to make him feel better, feel good and comfortable in your own home together you do it, you keep the place always spotless. And he still wants to actively clean of course, the process has always been therapeutic for him, he just can't do it as thorough as he once did but he still will do what he can from the confines of sitting down while you do all the very high and very low lifting.

His senses are still sharp, even with his half blindness. But even still, you always make sure to stand on his good side and if your on the blind you make sure to audibly announce your presence even if he could probably still sense you - Ackerman biology boosting it by tenfold, after all - you do it because it's polite and he does appreciate that.

Mostly handles things with his good hand anyway but is in the habit of dropping things whenever it comes to his less-good one, there's only so much you can do with only three fingers (including thumb) on one hand without being issues. It takes awhile before he even let's you hold that hand again and when he does the first several times he always hesitates, but it all flutters away when you carefully and gently intertwine your fingers with his good ones and your pointer and middle finger lovingly folds over his numbs. Or when you kiss delicately at each of his knuckles on that hand... it's weirdly sweet, weirdly romantic, he thinks.

It's been three years now. Domestic bliss is something Levi never thought existed - or he he did, never, never ever in his thirty-seven year life would he ever think he'd get to live such a thing. The two of you sit in front of the lake off to the side of your cabin, sitting on a lunch-bench watching on as Gabi and Falco are completely red in the face, awkwardly and loudly confessing their feelings to one another in only that embarrassingly sweet way teenagers could. It's sweet... to watch on. You look over and see the small, subtle yet warm, soft smile on Levi's lips. Proud of them, those two dumb kids that's been helping the two of you out for years now. You laugh, causing him to look over at you.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing,"

The giggling in your chest dies down as you watch as the two kids untactfully bump their faces together in an attempted kiss but Falco jolts back holding his forehead in pain, and Gabi's face to turn an even darker red as she yells something at him.

"Do you think we're too old now to act like that?"

Grey eye rolls. "When have I ever acted like that?"

"Oh I can name quite the few times when we first first started dating-"

He suddenly grabs at your face with a: "Hush." before kissing you, the worn stitches on his lips against yours always feel nice. Then he leans back, staring at you with lingering thoughts before his eye flicks back over to the kids now sweetly in each other's arms.

"You know, I was going to ask you something today but those brats decided to go ahead and make it about themselves..." He says, no real malice in his voice, just teasing. But you tilt your head out of curiosity.

"Ask me what?"

He sits back on the bench and stares out onto the lake. His wheelchair is parked off to the side, it's in a bag. He could reach over and pluck it out now. It was something he actually picked out years ago... something he never thought he needed because he never expected to reach this point together with you but Hanji talked his ear off into buying it and Erwin gave him this... teasing encouraged look with that weird smile of his that he'll never forget for the rest of his life. And he's kept it with him, all the time, it's always been on him in some shape or form. Honestly he wasn't sure how you didn't manage to find it already.

He looks back over to you and you're still intently staring back over at him. Maybe. Maybe he still could now.

"Ask me what?"

If you like what you read please consider reblogging! It means the world for writers and artists!

[aphroditeinthesea]

“ guilty as sin ”

jason grace x fem!reader ⚡️

if there’s no such as thing as bad thoughts, why is y/n feeling so guilty? | pt. 2

⚠️ cheating, swearing, breaking girl code, make out, sexual insinuation & while i was posting this there was random lightning and thunder so took that as a sign that this was pretty good

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The first thing Y/N noticed about Jason was his girlfriend. Okay, maybe that wasn't the first thing, but it was up there. Maybe the first thing she noticed was his hair, the way that sun shined around it, making his aura glow. Or maybe it was the way his eyes were so vibrant that she felt like she was drowning in the Blue Nile. Or, gods, his muscles. The way his shirt was barely able to conceal his abs. Then, his absolutely beautiful girlfriend, who surprise, surprise, was a daughter of Aphrodite.

Of course she knew she had to keep these feelings locked inside a vault. Especially at how she so easily befriended Piper, who if she knew about these feelings, would have Y/N’s head. But how was she supposed to? Whenever she saw him, basically doing nothing, her mind already had images of him flashing in her mind that she tried so desperately to flick away.

But once the feelings had gotten too intense, she had to tell someone. So she turned to the wisest person she knew, Annabeth Chase. She decided to walk to the Athena cabin after training. She found the blonde reading a book on her bed. She approached her, speaking up, “hey, can we talk?” she looked around, “privately?”

Annabeth nodded before leaving alongside Y/N. She led her to cabin 3, which was uninhabited since the disappearance of Percy.

“What’s wrong?” Annabeth began.

Y/N sighed before explaining the ordeal to the girl. Excluding certain fantasies about the boy that not even Zeus himself could get her to confess.

“As a girlfriend of a guy who everyone has a crush on,” she began, seeming annoyed at her own statement, “don't act on it.”

Y/N nodded, “yeah, I could never act on it, I mean, Piper’s my friend,” she paused and looked up at the daughter of Athena, “I’m not a bad person am I?”

“There’s no such thing as bad thoughts, only your actions talk.”

But after a few months. After they found out the memories were fake, that Jason was a Roman demigod, that there was no relationship to begin with, Y/N had the guilty hope that they would break up. But no. Instead they continued dating? She was furious, while also hating herself every second of every day. She had thought that maybe after all this time the feelings would go away. But they didn't! They wouldn't! They couldn't!

Every time she saw the two of them together, she wanted to vomit. Especially when they’d act all couple-like and kissing and hugging and standing within a ten foot radius.

One day at archery practice, she was about to shoot, when she saw the couple walking nearby. She immediately sunk into herself. She drew back her arrow, sulking, until she heard a loud, “ow, fuck!”

She looked up, realizing that she had accidentally shot the foot of the son of Apollo that had been helping her. She gasped, “oh my gods, I’m so sorry.”

He sat on the grass, holding onto his bleeding foot, “dont worry about it,” he hissed through the pain. A few other campers ran over to help him over to the infirmary.

She awkwardly looked around, unsure of what to do.

“What happened, Y/N?” The sound of Piper’s voice behind her caught her attention.

She paused, looking up at the blond boy before back to Piper, “I got distracted and, uhm, accidentally shot him.”

“Is he okay?” Jason questioned.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” she brushed off, “a little arrow in the foot never killed anyone.”

“Achilles would beg to differ,” he remarked with a smirk. Gods, that was going to be the death of her, The way his scar curved with his mouth. She liked to imagine he got the scar in a battle to the death against a Roman beast- or whatever, she didn't really understand what happened at that camp, other than the fact that they had really hot guys.

She must have been staring for too long as Piper looked back up at her boyfriend herself, raising an eyebrow.

Y/N panicked, “I should go see if he’s okay,” she ran off to the direction of the infirmary.

“You shot someone in the foot?!”

“Annabeth, I really don't feel like talking about this right now.”

“No, Y/N,” she stood in front of Y/N, “why?”

“Jason-”

Annabeth shook her head, “he has a girlfriend.”

“I know, that’s the problem-”

“She’s not the problem, Y/N,” the girl interrupted again, “you're being so immature, you have to get over this.”

Y/N turned around to see Piper and Jason laughing about something. She looked back at Annabeth, “I’ll try.”

That next week, she had gotten a date with a son of Hermes. It was a nice date, too. A picnic on the dock during the campfire.

“I was originally born in Minnesota, but then we moved to New Hampshire-” his voice was drowned out by her thoughts. She felt so… faithful to Jason. If it's make believe, why does it feel like a vow? She felt like he had written ‘mine’ on her upper thigh in her mind- “what about you?”

“Oh, I’ve never been to Michigan.”

He raised an eyebrow, “I asked if you liked strawberries?”

“Oh,” she looked at the strawberry she had accidentally crushed in her hand, “yeah.”

“You don't like me, do you?”

She shook her head, “no, nothing with you. You're great, this picnic is amazing, I’m just… I am so in love with one of my best friends’ boyfriend. I’m just trying to get over him.”

“Jason?”

She looked at him, her mouth agape, “how did you…?”

“A good guess.”

She hid her face in her hands, tears welling in her eyes, “am I allowed to cry?”

He pulled her into a hug, “go talk to him.”

New advice? She’ll take it!

She stood up, “I’m really sorry, I’ll make it up to you, promise!” she claimed before running off to the fire. Everyone was beginning to disperse, when the blond hair caught her eye. She rushed over to him, “I need to talk to you.”

He looked confused, but nodded, leading her into his cabin, “what’s up?”

“I have a huge fucking crush on you,” she blurted, “I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. And I thought that if I told you, it would go away. I’m sorry.”

He stayed silent for a minute, thinking. He ran his fingers through his hair. Did everything about him have to be this fucking hot?

“I have a girlfriend.”

“I know.”

He shook his head, “no, I need to remind myself of that. Y/N,” he walked closer to her, taking her hands in his, “I really like you, Y/N.”

She let out a deep breath, “Jason, that doesn't help.”

“It doesn't help me either, that’s why I’ve been trying to ignore it, but,” his right hand let go of hers, finding its way to her lips, “look at you.” He slowly leaned down to kiss her. Once, twice, thrice, four- over and over again. She wasn't even sure when she was suddenly pinned to his bed as their kisses got messier. His fingers traced the skin under her shirt, sending shivers down her spine, gasping when he would zap her.

“Jase,” she breathed, “this is really bad.”

He bit her bottom lip, “I know, we shouldn't-”

She kissed him again, “no.”

He leaned back, “Y/N, we really can’t.”

“I know, I know,” she heavily breathed, “but what are you saying?”

He stood up, forcing his glasses back on, “I need to go talk to Piper,” he grabbed her hand, helping her up, “go back to your cabin, let’s just forget about this.”

“No.”

“Y/N, please, we can talk some other time, but please, just go for now.”

She nodded, tears in her eyes, “right, okay,” she followed behind as he walked to the door, opening it for her. She looked up at him, “goodnight, Jason.”

He gently touched her arm, “goodnight.”

She walked out feeling shame and guilt fill her body. She felt it in all her limbs, making it hard for her to walk, feeling pulled down by her emotions, she wondered, without ever touching his skin, how could I be guilty as sin?

[bougiebutchbitch]

horrible mouthwashing pre-game concept where Curly and Jimmy have woken up in bed together multiple times after a night of partying

Curly always feels like shit - raw and strung out and aching inside. But Jimmy's right there, looking as confused as he feels about what the fuck happened last night, and, well, if they're both in the same boat....

So Curly always takes it on himself to laugh it off, rubbing the back of his messy blond bedhead and joking about how he's a bit of a slut when he gets drunk, so sorry if he came onto Jimmy and made things awkward

And Jimmy snorts and shoves him away and says there's no point talking about it since neither of them remember what happened. Just because they fuck when they're drunk doesn't have to mean anything while they're sober

Even though he

is

absolutely roofieing the fuck out of Curly at every opportunity.

Justifying it with his own inferiority complex, claiming Curly would never be interested, never be as willing and pliable, if he was awake - because he's looking down on Jimmy really, just like everyone else.

Meanwhile, deep down, Curly suspects something Is Not Right. But he is so deep in de-nile he's gonna get snapped up by a crocodile. He's focusing on the big picture - getting through nav school and maintaining his friendship with the one guy who always sticks around! Jimmy is his friend, despite all his flaws. He wouldn't hurt Curly. Not really. Curly doesn't believe that.

He knows him. Right?

[vermilionsun]

Since we’re doing part twos👀 Could you write more nsfw hcs for leander and ais? <3

Yes I can Yes I will Yes I did 💃

Ais

Aka choose one hair colour challenge failed

✩ Topping from the bottom

Self-explanatory. “Gives it almost as well as he takes it,” but he’s in charge babe, you stand no chance. He’ll treat you good though, don’t worry—

✩ Facefucking

YOUR FACE OR HIS, he doesn’t really mind. He knows to appreciate a good blowjob and loves having his mouth stuffed full of you. Man doesn’t ask for much. Plus he thinks it hot watching you manhandle him.

✩ 69

I see this man having an oral fixation—I can’t explain it. Sit on his face and suck him. As tiring as it is rewarding.

✩ M I R R O R S

He’ll be sitting on the edge of the bed, you on his lap, your back facing him. His veiny hands keep your thighs open as he makes you watch yourself bounce on him in the mirror and struggle to keep your balance and pace. Delicious.

✩ Pillow Prince(ss)

Let him treat you, okay?

✩ Comfort Sex

hEAR ME OUT WAIT— This man will never fuck you while he’s angry. That goes against a couple hundred of his moral codes, plus he would never want to hurt you. But, after some time, if things are getting heated, he will be slow, sensual, careful. He’ll apologise if he’s at fault. He’ll hold your hand and leave soft murmurs on the crook of your neck, kiss away any tears that might leave your eyes. Same goes if he knows you had had a rough day, accompanied by enough praises to make you see stars.

✩ S H O W E R

✩ Seasping

ON THAT NOTE— If he’s lying inside the waters of the Seaspring, presumably looking at the wall, and you climb in alongside him, well… He won’t bother to hide the gigantic smirk on his face that rivals the size of his boobs as he pulls you on his lap. It also serves as an amazing opportunity for a not-so-subtle fuck you to to Ocudeus.

✩ Exhibitionism–ish

He’d fuck you happily infront of a crowd to prove a point (with your consent of course). He’d take any chance thrown his way to brag about how amazing his partner is.

✩ Remote Control Vibrators

There has to be an alternative to that in the Touchstarved universe, right? Oh, that bastard’s smirk when he suddenly presses it to the highest setting from across the room while you’re in the middle of a conversation.

✩ Against the Table

✩ Spontaneous Sex

He’s definitely the type to randomly return home/come find you “because he’s horny.”

✩ Caught

He won’t stop his actions, just look at the person who walked in on you with a “what do you want?” look. Could easily pick up a conversation while fucking his partner’s brains out, 100%

✩ Up Skirt/Panties to the side

✩ Car

RIP Ais, you’d love late night car rides and car sex afterwards.

Leander

Aka the Nile is a river in Egypt

🗡  Nipple Play

This man’s tits are MASSIVE. Treat them well. Suck on them, twist and pull on them, make him cry.

🗡  Masochism

Self-explanatory.

🗡  Anal Toys

Previously mentioned he’s an ass guy, so make everyone a favour and ruin his ass (literally). B̶e̶a̶d̶s̶ w̶i̶l̶l̶ d̶o̶ t̶h̶e̶ j̶o̶b̶ j̶u̶s̶t̶ f̶i̶n̶e̶

🗡  RIDE HIM &

🗡  PULL HIS HAIR

Sit on his lap, pull his hair and force him to look at you while you ride his soul out of his dick. He’ll thank you once he’ll be able to speak again—give him a couple w̶e̶e̶k̶s̶ days though.

🗡  Magic

Of course, I will elaborate. If he can make flowers of light out of thin air, he most definitely can use his magic for other things, even to a small degree. A restraint, a shock of pleasure, and he most definitely will comply if asked (̶s̶h̶o̶w̶-̶o̶f̶f̶)̶.

🗡  Sleepy

Wake him up with a blowjob once, and you’ll have to continue that routine for the rest of both your lives. He’ll be completely bewitched, still groggy as me moans lowly and oh damn that deep morning voice…

🗡  Gag

It’s both hilarious and incredibly turning on. Try that with your panties, and the man has already cummed.

🗡  Lingerie

Talking about panties… The moment he lays his eyes on you and your fancy little outfit, he swallows dryly. His eyes go dark, and he has to reposition himself because he’s so hard. You’d expect him to rip them off of you immediately, but instead, he guides you to stand in front of his spread–out legs, his hands slowly trailing up your thighs to your ass and waist, feeling the way your skin transitions to the material, his chin resting against your stomach as you pet his hair.

“May I?”

“May you, what?”

“May I take these off?” He tugs at the fabric to make his point. “Please?”

M̶o̶n̶t̶h̶s̶ u̶n̶t̶i̶l̶ y̶o̶u̶ w̶a̶l̶k̶ n̶o̶r̶m̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ a̶g̶a̶i̶n̶.

🗡  Cumming Untouched

Too easy to achieve with this man.

🗡  Under the desk

The bar, specifically. It’s beyond amusing watching him try to keep his composure in front of the patrons while you’re sucking him off so beautifully.

🗡  G̶l̶o̶r̶y̶ H̶o̶l̶e̶

He̶ w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶, o̶k̶a̶y̶?̶!̶ D̶o̶n̶'t̶ c̶o̶m̶e̶ a̶t̶ m̶e̶

🗡  Candle/Wax Play

He had set them up to make a “romantic atmosphere” but the second your eyes darted to the candle closest to you while you were on top of him… yeah, he might have slightly regretted his decision (s̶p̶o̶i̶l̶e̶r̶s̶:̶ h̶e̶ d̶i̶d̶n̶'t̶ a̶c̶t̶u̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ a̶n̶d̶ y̶o̶u̶ d̶i̶d̶ i̶t̶ a̶g̶a̶i̶n̶).

🗡  Public Humiliation

It’s literally canon.

🗡  Caught Masturbating

“Come on darling, won’t you help me a little?”

[starrynightmuse]

Sign of the Times 🏛⏳️ I. Broken Dragonfly Wings

Aemond Targaryen x reader, Library of Alexandria AU

(Title inspired by the Harry Styles song)

Blurb: It's summer in Alexandria, Egypt, and the heat has reached sweltering heights. Children dash toward the banks of the Nile, eager to find relief in the cool waters while ladies fan themselves under the shade of palm trees. Thick mud huts keep families cool under the boiling sun. It would be 1,892 years before the first ice cubes would be invented and nearly two millennia until air conditioning. Even Jesus Christ wouldn’t be born until another 48 years. But you have the teachings of Aristotle and the works of Euclid. You're the first and only female scholar at the Library of Alexandria, the first institute of its kind. All your life has been spent in the pursuit of knowledge — until the arrival of a mysterious young scholar named Aemond. 

Series warnings: period typical misogyny, ancient academia, teacher x student relationship (but they're the same age), violence, fire, sexual content (18+), reader is loosely based off of Hypatia of Alexandria, Targaryens x Ptolemies crossover, character deaths, inaccurate history for the sake of storytelling, accusations of witchcraft, debates on fictional religions, Plato, Daemon being a menace.

Word count: 5,380

Series Masterlist

Your heart was racing, terror coiling in your stomach like a serpent, but you refused to let it show as you looked out at the mob of angry faces around you in the pavilion.

“Traitor!”

“Death to the witch!”

“Kill her!” 

You knew there was no escaping this. This was the end. Yet, even as fear flooded your chest, you refused to let go of your pride. You held your head up high as Prince Daemon approached you where you kneeled. He looked down at you, his cold eyes gleaming in sick satisfaction.

"I'm giving you one last chance, witch," he said, his voice hard and uncompromising. "Renounce your unholy ways and convert to the Faith of the Seven, and you shall walk away unharmed."

You looked up at him, refusing to back down. You hypocrite, you thought. When you spoke, your voice was steady and firm. "I cannot.”

The prince's expression darkened. He stepped closer to you, his lips close to your ear so that no one would overhear.

“There is nothing left for you. It's over. Save yourself and the crown will grant you mercy,” he hissed.

You spat at his face. "If the right to think is treason, then I embrace it proudly. I refuse to remain supplicant to a crown that fears the power of knowledge and labels it treachery."

Daemon's lips formed into a cruel snarl. He stepped back and turned to the crowd, opening his arms in a dramatic display. "The punishment for witchcraft is death!" his voice boomed. The crowd erupted, snarling and roaring like a pack of lions.

Your heart raced as the people closed in with stones in hand, hungry predators circulating their prey. You took a final deep breath, bracing yourself for the onslaught. The first stone hit you, a dull throb of pain that quickly gave way to sharper, intense sensations as more stones followed. You feel your knees collapsing to the hard floor. In reflex, you cover your head with your arms. You shut your eyes, and the last thing you saw was the memory of a single blue eye.

🏛⏳️

6 months earlier.

There's a buzzing in the air, and not just from the hum of people in the atrium outside. Inside your classroom, a large blue dragonfly lazily flies in circles, your students taking turns swatting at it as it zips by. It’s an epaulet skimmer, or an orthetrum chrysostigma, a common dragonfly found around Egypt. Last month, you helped survey them with a fellow scholar who was putting together an account of all the various insects along the Nile River delta. The research project was commissioned by the Princess Helaena Targaryen herself, whom you've heard was quite fond of natural history. 

In the midst of your lecturing, the buzz of the insect feels amplified. In front of you sit nearly fifty pupils, all perched on wooden benches. Most of them are in their teens and early twenties, and all of them were young men with restless energy with wandering minds. While a few showed genuine curiosity, you knew that attendance was merely a formality to half of them, who were only present because their parents were wealthy aristocrats. Yet, you knew it was your duty to broaden their minds and instill some semblance of knowledge into their minds before they go on to graduate and become lords who make decisions that impact hundreds of people.

“Whether you believe in the Seven or the old gods, we accept that the divine has created all that we know,” you say, your voice carrying across the room. “Yet, the mechanisms behind how their creations work are a mystery to us mortals.”

There's a blur of blue near your eye when the dragonfly makes a landing on your nose. You swap it away and continue. 

“For example, what are the gears that drive a drought? Elders of the past have said that a drought is punishment from an angry sun god. Holy men today say it is the repercussion of having vexed the Seven. But how, precisely, do these divine beings bring this drought upon us?” You pause, pacing around the room. “Like observing the work of a craftsman, we can observe the handiwork of the gods. We can observe that volcanic eruptions are one tool that the gods use to give us droughts. Likewise, miasma from a plague, which spews vaporous acid into the atmosphere, can cause rising temperatures and dry up rivers. (Modern Fact check: Miasma does NOT cause plagues. They are caused by infectious bacteria and viruses.)

“Every natural disaster has forces, or causes, behind them. Although perhaps only the gods may know the truth of the workings behind these events, philosophers and believers of science have theorized why certain disasters come to be. Take earthquakes, for example. Compared to droughts, it is much harder for us to determine how earthquakes are created. Aristotle, for one, suggested that it is caused by winds in subterranean caves.”

One of your pupils seated on the front row raises his hand. Ebony curls, dark eyes that remind you of beetles, his robes a deep plum that only money can buy.

“Perhaps Aristotle failed to consider that earthquakes could just be Atticus's mother walking to the market,” he says, a cocky grin spreading across his face. His friend gives him a hearty slap on the back, nearly doubling over with laughter.

You offer a tight-lipped smile. "Thank you, Flavius." 

Some of your students were more mature than others.

Flavius's jolliness is short-lived, however. The dragonfly suddenly decides to dart into his eye and he lets out a startled shriek. He swats at the insect and tumbles forward off the bench. His friend roars even harder with laughter. Meanwhile, the dragonfly falls onto the floor, its delicate blue wings now broken. A couple students in the back crane their necks in curiosity as Flavius stomps his feet on the insect's body, crushing it mercilessly against the tile floor. Tiny blue limbs smear across the tiles, its wings in pieces like shattered glass. A life snuffed out in the blink of an eye.

Flavius settles back onto the bench, straightening his toga with an air of nonchalance. "Apologies, miss. Please, continue," he says.

You choose to ignore his interruption, redirecting your attention to the rest of the class. 

“When we attempt to unravel the mysteries behind the divine's creations, we begin to understand the natural world,” you say, thinking about the dead bug in front of you, its blue wings, the blue of the Nile, all the species of flora and fauna that have survived for eons thanks to its life-giving waters. “This is why we study the discipline of science.”

“Beyond these walls, I have heard many who deem it to be blasphemy,” a voice interjects. 

Your gaze shifts to a young man at the rear of the room. You've never seen him before, not in your classroom nor around the Library. If you've seen him, you would know. With his sharp features, nearly white hair cropped close to his head, and a leather eyepatch covering an angry scar on his left eye — his was not a face you would forget. 

“What do they call you?” You ask curiously, piercing blue eye meeting yours. He seemed a bit older than the rest of your students — perhaps in his mid-twenties, around the same age as you. You briefly wondered where he was from. His features stood out in a sea of dark haired Alexandrians.

"I am called Aemond, ma'am," his voice remained composed and respectful. "Just Aemond." There was a refinement in his speech that hinted of a privileged upbringing, yet the absence of a surname intrigued you. Perhaps he was an educated slave, adept at tutoring and managing the finances of the master's household — literate slaves were not uncommon in the Roman Empire.

"And what have you heard, Aemond?" you inquire.

"It is said that scientific inquiry is seen as an offense to the Seven," he responds evenly, referring to the gods. "Questioning their creations is considered sacrilegious." Several students nod in agreement around the room.

You paused for a moment, gathering your thoughts.

“It is true that outside these walls, the belief that science is sacrilegious is held by many people,” you say slowly. “Perhaps even now, some of you are wrestling with the idea, torn between conventional thinking and what you are learning at this institute. If this is the case, I implore you to consider this —” 

You look out at the faces of your pupils. Some are focused and deep in thought, while others are frowning. A lone blue eye is fixed on you.

"—What act of love is greater than seeking to understand the object of your affection? Mathematics, physics, and astronomy are not merely academic pursuits but they are expressions of love. They are avenues through which we seek to comprehend and appreciate the intricate beauty of our world.” You gestured around the room. “I am aware that some of you are followers of the Seven. Some of you are devoted to the old gods. But science does not seek to refute the existence of one God over another, nor does it attempt to debunk the existence of the divine altogether. Science seeks only to understand.” You look in Aemond's direction. He's watching, listening intently. “In attempting to understand the natural world, we may better love the divine and appreciate their creations.”

🏛⏳️

The remainder of the class concluded smoothly, and due to the sweltering heat, you dismissed everyone earlier than usual. Despite the hour not yet reaching midday, the air was thick with humidity, making the classroom feel oppressive. You had no desire to keep your students in the stuffy classroom for longer than necessary.

As the others rush to leave the room, you notice that Aemond was kneeling down and using a handkerchief to clean the dragonfly off the floor.

“Thank you,” you say to him earnestly. His brow is furrowed in concentration as he delicately holds the insect through the thin white cloth. He picks up a broken piece of an iridescent blue wing, the shimmer catching the light.

"It's an epaulet skimmer," you remark softly. But you're not looking at the bug, you're looking at him.

"Orthetrum chrysostigma," Aemond responds, using the scientific name. You regard him with curiosity. 

“My sister has a fondness for insects," Aemond explains. "She is extremely gentle with them. She maintains an extensive collection in her room — beetles, caterpillars, dragonflies, and the like. But she only gathers them once they've passed on. Her heart is too big to confine them before they've lived a full life." He gazes at the broken wing in his hand with a hint of sadness. You suspect that he is thinking of more than the fate of the squashed bug.

“Some cultures believe that dragonflies were once dragons who were tricked by a jackal to change shape into insects,” you say, looking at the wing in fascination. “Once they became a dragonfly, they couldn't transform back. As a result, they represented change and illusion.” 

You notice that Aemond's gaze is now fixed on you, a blue eye that reminds you of iridescent wings and the shimmering surface of the Nile on sunny days. You think of mirages in the desert, blue lapis lazuli on polished gold rings, the holographic shells of scarab beetles. 

“They must've been very grand in their past lives,” he remarks.

There's a short silence as you observe him, unsure of what to make of this strange new addition to your class. As your gaze shifts from his eyepatch to his eye, you notice that he's studying you too. Suddenly, you feel very exposed, as if he was somehow reading your entire life story just by looking at you. 

Breaking the tension, you extend your hand. "I realize I haven't properly introduced myself. It's been a pleasure having you in my class," you say, stating your name. He accepts your gesture, clasping your hand in a firm shake.

“You're the daughter of Theon. Your father is the greatest mathematician in all of Alexandria,” Aemond says. “I know who you are.” 

“Do you study mathematics?” 

“No. History and philosophy,” he replies. “But I've read enough across all the disciplines to know who the greats are.” 

“I don't think I've ever seen you around here before,” you note.

"I just started my studies here," he explains. "I arrived last night."

"Where else have you studied?" 

“Nowhere else. All my education has been from tutors hired by my family at home.”

"If you don't mind my asking, where do you come from?" 

He hesitates. “I've been around,” he says at last. 

🏛⏳️

That afternoon, you decided to teach your next class in one of the classrooms overlooking the sea. Arriving early, you unlatch the tall, arched windows, hoping to coax a gentle breath of ocean breeze into the room. As the soft light of the late afternoon filtered through, you arrange your teaching materials as the first of your students trickled in.

The class was on Euclidean geometry. As it happens, this was one of your favorite subjects to teach. You loved to move around the room, using various objects — such as a discus, a sphere, and even a pineapple — to illustrate geometric shapes and their properties. It was more than just memorizing formulas; it was about seeing and understanding the spatial relationships and practical applications of mathematics in the physical world.  

Two thousand years from now, Euclidean geometry would be the foundation for computer graphics, radiology, and geographic information systems. Without Euclid, you wouldn't have video games or anime. There would be no x-rays to help doctors treat broken bones. Without Euclid, there would be no Google Maps, nor would you be able to stalk your crush's location on Snapchat. 

Abruptly, you are cut off mid-lecture as a series of bold knocks echo off the door. You excuse yourself and open the door cautiously, finding yourself face-to-face with six armored men adorned in gold cloaks. You step out into the atrium.

"What is your business?" you ask, your gaze sharp and guarded.

“Prince Daemon Targaryen wants to speak to Theon of Alexandria. I'm told you're his daughter,” the guard at front says firmly.

“My father is indisposed. Whatever business you have with him, you can discuss with me.”

A sudden laugh rings out across the atrium. Every movement in the hall comes to a standstill as scholars pause their tracks and turn their heads. In front of you, guards quickly part ways for a tall man with long silver hair. His armor clinks as he strides towards you, his eyes mischievous like those of a jackal, reminding you of the ancient depictions of Anubis on temple walls. Adorning his shoulders is the same golden cloak worn by his men.

It was the unmistakable Prince Daemon Targaryen, brother of King Viserys and the consort of the crown princess Rhaenyra. But to the smallfolk, he is known as the merciless commander of the City Watch. 

Daemon looks at you like you are the scum on his shoes. “I don't have time for games, girl,” he says mockingly. “Where is your father?”

“Like I've said, he is indisposed,” you repeat, meeting him with a steady gaze.

“I have come a long way from the palace,” he says, offering a false honeyed grin. “You will fetch him for me.” 

You give a smile that mirrored his. It was common knowledge that Prince Daemon frequented the company of his mistress in the city more than he did his own wife at the royal palace.

"I speak the truth when I say my father cannot be here right now, and I apologize on his behalf. However, I am willing to assist you,” you assert calmly.

"This does not concern you," Daemon retorts dismissively. "I am here on business concerning your father's governance of this... academic institution."

"I am a professor here and a senior member of the Library of Alexandria," you counter, maintaining your composure. "After my father, you will find no one more knowledgeable about the affairs of this institute than I am."

Daemon scoffs, his tone condescending. "There are matters too serious to discuss with a woman.”

“Then I'm afraid you will have to come back another day, my prince.” 

“Where is your father?”

“He is sick. Unless you have a direct order from the king, I would prefer not to disturb him from his much-needed rest."  

The unspoken truth hangs heavy in the air — the Library is under the protection of the crown, and Daemon, despite his authority, is not the king. The prince's expression darkens, a sneer painting his features as his knuckles grip around the handle of his sword on his waist. You find yourself locked in a tense staring contest, both unwilling to yield. Moments tick by in silence, each waiting for the other to give in. Then —

“Very well,” he concedes, letting go of his grip on the sword. But you knew from his expression that this was far from over. Daemon casts a disdainful glance around the atrium as if the place offended him before turning and walking away from you. His gold cloaks follow him, their armor clanking all the way to the main doors of the library. 

It is only when the last of them exited onto the street that you allow yourself to release the breath you've been holding.

🏛⏳️

“Daemon Targaryen? What was he doing here?” You hear Cregan before you see him.

You're in the far corner of the main reading room, kneeling before a crate with a new shipment of scrolls that came in from Greece. Gently opening the lid, you discover a signed note from the head of the Platonic School of Athens. Ἕν οἶδα ὅτι οὐδὲν οἶδα. Αὕτη ἡ γνῶσις ἐμοῦ ἐστιν, it reads at the end. One thing I know, that I know nothing. This is the source of my wisdom. It is a quote by Socrates.

Cregan emerges from behind a shelf, his gray eyes wide with exasperation.

“I can't say that I haven't expected this,” you say to him, picking up a scroll and lightly dusting it off. “It is no secret that Daemon puts up with us only because of the pharaoh.”

“Well, yes. But to barge in here and demand for the Professor—” he means your father Theon.

“He's been sending us threats for months.”

Cregan paused. “When did this start?”

“Four moons ago, when King Viserys reinstated him as Lord Commander of the City Watch.” 

Daemon had been the commander of the city watch once before, but that had been years ago, and back then he was more interested in dealing with criminals in the worst parts of the city. But after some scandal with the Princess Rhaenyra, Viserys had exiled him to Rome. Now, he was back and had regained both his old post as leader of the city guard and the Princess Rhaenyra, whom he took to wife. However, this time, Daemon was turning his policing to the University of Alexandria, more commonly referred to as simply the Library. Apparently, scholars are the new criminals.

“Why didn't you tell me?” Cregan asked, clearly frustrated.

“I didn't want to burden you with it," you reply honestly. "You've been occupied with your research with Princess Helaena these past four moons.”

Cregan rubs his eyebrows. “What has he been threatening?”

With a sigh, you rise to your feet, making space on the shelf for the new scrolls. Cregan joins you, handing over scrolls from the crate as you arrange them carefully in their designated spots on the shelf. 

“He wants to shut down the Library if we don't — and I quote his words — ‘tone down on the science’,” you explain. "He's pushing for censorship, insisting that everything that is taught and published here must be 'safe' for the public. He claims it's about protecting the moral well-being of Alexandrians."

Cregan snorts derisively. "I wonder what his wife thinks of his moral well-being."

"That's an ad hominem attack, Cregan," you chide gently. But you're smiling.

“We're the best scientific research institution in the Mediterranean,” he says. “And, let's face it, we're probably the best in the entire world. We owe it all to King Jaehaerys's proclamation over 50 years ago, protecting our intellectual freedom. Even Daemon Targaryen can't derail something like that.” 

“Daemon doesn't like anything he can't control,” you say. “Nor does he like taking no for an answer.”

“He's a cunt,” Cregan muttered angrily. “His word isn't law but he sure does want to act like it. Did you hear he's been trying to ban all Northerners from entering Alexandria? Unless they're slaves, that is. It's utterly absurd. He's a Northerner himself. His entire family hails from the north—well, not the North, but north of the Mediterranean. Valyria is a small city-state in Greece. Still, that's north of us. If he wants only true Alexandrians in the city, maybe he should consider leaving as well." The Targaryens, although originally from Greece, had become the longest-reigning dynasty in Egypt, despite their non-Egyptian origin.

"What does Princess Helaena think?"

"Of Daemon?"

"Of the North."

Cregan blushes slightly. "She's mentioned that we should visit there together someday," he admits. “For research purposes, of course,” he adds quickly. 

You grin. Cregan has been your closest friend since childhood, and you swear you've never seen him as happy as he's been the past few months.

"She wants to see the direwolves and the aurora borealis,” says Cregan. “I promised her I'd show her around Winterfell when we go." Winterfell, Cregan's hometown, nestled in a far-off corner of the world where snow and frost dominate most of the year — a large contrast to the sandy dunes of Egypt.

“You like her,” you mused.

“Don't be absurd,” Cregan says, but he's failing miserably in hiding a smile.

There's a rustling among the shelves behind you, and the next thing you know, you're face to face with a single blue eye that reminds you of ocean water and iridescent wings.

"Sorry, I was told that the texts about Plato are in this section?" Aemond asks.

"Oh. Yes. Absolutely," you reply quickly, gesturing around you. "I mean, they're all here. Everything on this wall is Plato. We've just received a new collection of his works from Greece and we just finished cataloging and setting them up. They're on this shelf. Here." Your words stumble out awkwardly, and you feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“Perfect,” Aemond says, looking at you. Neither of you move. Cregan eyes the two of you with amusement. 

“Well, I was just about to head out,” Cregan says cheerfully, sashaying past you. You turn, widening your eyes and mouthing no to him. Cregan simply grins as he disappears behind the bookshelves, leaving you with Aemond. 

“You read Plato?” you ask.

Aemond nods. “I am an admirer of his work,” he says. “You were one of my first introductions to him, actually. I read your thesis on him, An Exploration Into the Metaphysics of Plato, when I was sixteen.” 

“I can't imagine there would be many copies of that,” you say with amazement. “I wrote it when I was—”

“Sixteen,” Aemond says. You blink. He clears his throat. “I've been a follower of your work,” he adds shyly.  

“Oh. I'm flattered.” You’re blushing.

“Is it true that you started studying at The Academy when you were fourteen?” He means the Platonic School of Athens, founded by Plato himself over 300 years ago. Most scholars called it The Academy. It is the first university to ever open in western civilization.

You nod. “I learned mathematics and astronomy here, but my father wanted me to get a hellenistic education on top of it, so he sent me to Greece. I stayed there for four years before returning to Alexandria.”

“I have a brother who studies there,” Aemond shares, leaning against a bookshelf. “My mother, being an Athenian herself, insisted he be sent there. He writes to me sometimes, telling me about the professors he works with. I had considered studying there myself.”

“What made you choose Alexandria over Athens?”

Aemond smiles. “I'm at the center of the world here. It seemed foolish to want to go anywhere else,” he says, his gaze sweeping the library around him. After a pause, he asks, “What made you want to teach?”

“The fear of oblivion,” you reply. "It's the realization that everything we do, everything we learn, and everything we create could be forgotten someday. Teaching, for me, is a way to combat that inevitability. By sharing knowledge, by shaping young minds, I can hope to leave a lasting impact — a legacy that outlives me."

Aemond nods thoughtfully. "So it's about leaving a mark on the world?"

"In a sense, yes," you affirm. "It's about contributing to something greater than myself, ensuring that knowledge endures beyond individual lives and fleeting moments."

He smiles faintly. "That's a noble pursuit."

"It's what drives me," you conclude. As you look at each other, you feel his gaze tracing over your face with a strange emotion. Awe? Admiration? Before you can decipher his thoughts, a scholar approaches the shelf behind you, prompting you to awkwardly step aside.

"I hope you find the resources on Plato you're looking for," you say to Aemond, refocusing on the moment. You pause. "We're hosting a seminar on Plato's metaphysics tomorrow afternoon in the Rose Hall. You should join us."

Aemond smiles. “I’d be honored to.”

🏛⏳️

Daytime in Alexandrian summers can be hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk, but when the chill sets in at night, the city transforms into a completely different land. It is under the cloak of darkness that Alexandria truly comes alive.

You’re wrapped in a headscarf, its tail fluttering in the gentle wind from the Mediterranean as you navigate the narrow streets of the night market. Oil lamps and torches cast a soft, flickering glow as shadows danced across buildings decorated with a mix of hieroglyphs and hellenistic art. On the streets, you hear people speaking in both Greek and Egyptian, but also Persian, Moroccan, and other various African and Asiatic dialects. Various aromas filled the air— spices mingled with the savory scents of grilled meats and the sweet notes of baked pastries and delicacies from the far corners of the world. It was the New York City of the ancient world.

Weaving between stalls adorned with colorful fabrics and gleaming trinkets, you spotted one of the gold cloaks from earlier that day. Upon noticing you, he gave you a brief, curt nod before turning his attention sharply towards a group of rowdy children who were blocking the path of a passing wagon.

You make your way to an apothecary stall, securing the medicine your father needs before turning to leave. Suddenly, a hooded figure trips over a wooden crate and crashes into you, causing both of you to tumble to the ground. You fall flat on the cobblestones, his weight on top of you. Your basket with the apothecary vial shatters on the road.

“Ow!” he yelled. You struggle to push him off and get to your feet, then reach down to help him up, steadying him as he sways unsteadily. His hood falls back, revealing a mess of unruly white curls. 

Prince Aegon Targaryen. You’ve seen him a few times while going around the city. The eldest son of Queen Alicent, known to frequent the streets of Alexandria often. Aside from Daemon, he was the only royal that most of the smallfolk could recognize by appearance.

"Prince Aegon," you say cautiously, helping him steady himself. "Are you alright?"

He blinks a few times, focusing on you with bleary eyes. "Why, hello," he slurs slightly, attempting a lopsided smile. For a prince, he seemed dirtier than Diogenes and his barrel.

"Let me help you," you insist, guiding him away from the scattered shards of glass. You maneuver him towards a nearby bench, ensuring he sits down safely.

"I’m alright, I’m fine," he murmurs, running a hand through his disheveled hair. He groaned and vomited on the ground next to him. You pat him on the back awkwardly as he empties his stomach.

“Did my mother send you?” he said abruptly.

“What?”

“My mother. She sent you, didn’t she? I can’t catch a break these days,” he grumbled. “The woman is a menace. She’s become crazier since my brother got exiled. I can’t even drink in peace now. She’s sending her spies everywhere.”

You frowned. “I’m not a spy, my prince.”

Aegon wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and sits back heavily on the bench. He tilts his head up at you, scrutinizing you, and then he sighs and hungs his head.

“Forgive me,” he mutters, almost to himself. “I’m tired of the games. Tired of the scrutiny. I’m tired of the standards that she sets for me, and I’m tired of her disappointment when I fail to meet them. Can’t she see I don’t want any of this? Can’t she just let me be?”

You hesitate, unsure how to respond to the prince's candidness. He was clearly drunk and you’ve only just met him, and you’ve heard unsettling rumors about him. Stories of his frequenting brothels and fighting rings, of fathering illegitimate children and neglecting them. But in this moment, he seemed far from the crooked prince that people whispered about. He seemed like a child in need of comfort.

“Your mother worries about you,” you say gently. “She only wants what’s best for you.”

He scoffs bitterly. “Does she? Tell me, have you ever had a mother who would rather marry you to your own sibling for political gain than let you live your own life?”

You shake your head slowly. “I cannot say I understand fully, but I know you carry a heavy burden.”

“Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever be free of it.” Aegon leans back, staring up at the night sky with weary resignation. “My brother was lucky. I’d do anything to exchange places with him.”

You recalled hearing news of Queen Alicent’s second son, who had been condemned to work in the mines of Nubia as punishment for the murder of his nephew. The usual penalty for murder was death, and much worse if the victim was a royal, but since the criminal was a prince himself, it changed a few things. The Nubian mines were typically reserved for lesser crimes in Alexandria.

“The one who was exiled to Nubia?” you asked Aegon.

He chuckles bitterly. “My brother didn’t get sent to Nubia. Mother loves him too much for that.”

You stayed quiet, not knowing what to say. You had a feeling that you weren’t supposed to be hearing this piece of information. Yet, Aegon didn’t seem to expect a reply. He’s looking up at the stars, as if he wished to fly off into the heavens and leave his miseries on the ground.

“Thank you,” Aegon finally said, breaking the quiet that had settled between you. Thank you for listening, thank you for not judging, thank you for watching out for my drunken mess. He rose to his feet, a bit unsteady but more composed than before. He took out a pouch of coins. “This is for… what I broke,” he said, gesturing to the remnants of the vial around you, shards of glass glittering under oil lamps. You thought of the broken dragonfly wings from earlier in the day.

You accepted the pouch gingerly. What he gave you was worth much more than the cost of the medicine, but you didn’t want to offend him so you decided not to mention it.

“Should I call the guards to escort you back to the palace?” you asked.

Aegon blinked, his gaze drifting momentarily. “No, no,” he said, waving dismissively. “They’re my uncle’s people. They don’t like me.”

"Will you manage on your own?" you pressed gently.

Aegon straightened his cloak and mustered a tired smile. "I always do," he said. 

With that, the prince turned and started to walk away. You watched as he disappeared into the narrow streets, his figure gradually blending with the shadows.

Chapter II: Coming Soon

[gyuriac]

THE NILE IS A RIVER IN EGYPT | s. haruka content: bro so whipped, he's accusing you of witch craft cw: 🤔prolly not pairings: sakura haruka x gn!reader notes: i have never watched windbreaker believe it or not, but the people im following are obsessed with it so i end up writing for him but it may not be canon accurate tho so apologies in advance 😞

Maybe it’s the way your hands meet the collar of his shirt, gently patting it back in place. Or the way your eyes meet his first before anybody else in the area.

Sakura Haruka finds himself caught in a big dilemma, or so he claims. Perhaps it’s his lack of experience with good attention but he swears you’re doing something taboo with him.

No, it’s not normal when his mind wanders to you whenever he's free nor it is normal when he sees a certain object while on patrol, your reaction always pops up first in his thoughts.

“It’s witchcraft!” He exclaimed, startling the blonde beside him. The trio was taking a break at Pothos when their captain started to rant about his recent troubles. Nirei could only nervously smile and nod to his words. Suo, on the other hand, was enjoying Sakura’s rants, encouraging it even.

“If I may add, it would be better if you brought this matter directly to them.” The eye patched boy said before taking a sip of his tea, steam slightly covering his face.

“But don’t you think that’s-”

“As they say, communication is key. No?” The blonde mumbled something under his breath before taking a bite of his food.

While the other two conversed about a different topic, Sakura was still stuck in his own thoughts. Witchcraft is quite far fetched but you linger on his mind too much for his liking. But there’s also that thing, though he had established he would never feel that a long time ago so it’s certainly not that…

A call of his name snapped him out of stupor and he instinctively snapped his head to the direction of sound.

His cheek was met with a soft poke before his face went into flames, unsavoury words spilling from his mouth.

The culprit only laughs before retrieving their hand and Sakura swears he heard the angels singing when you laughed so sweetly at him.

“Sorry! I just couldn’t help it when your cheeks are literally begging to be poked!” You snickered while waving Kotoha. Suo observed the scene before him, their beloved captain sputtering his words as he smacked your hands away from him.

To people who don't know the bicolored haired boy very well, it might look like typical Sakura shenanigans. What they don’t notice is how he gently pushes your hands away and suppresses his complaints to grumbles and mumbles instead. This puts a mischievous smile on Suo’s face and he can’t but tease him a little bit, just a lil.

“Sakura-san, are you coming down with a fever? You look awfully red.” His statement earns a chuckle from you and you turn to your beloved captain.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought you were falling for me!” You say with a smug tone as you pat his shoulder, laughing.

Suo could only smile at the situation he cause but Sakura, at that moment, blew his fuse.

And so chaos ensues.

© gyuriac . i'm begging you to not put my works in any a.i thingy and please don't plagiarize. I don't own anything but my edits and writing.

[mrsarcherofinfamy]

●Braun Strowman x Reader●

_________________________________________

Standing backstage talking to Ivy Nile and The Creed Brothers, I feel a tap on my arm. I slowly turn around seeing Dominick Mysterio and JD McDonagh standing there smiling at me while a cameraman is standing behind them. I look at them unimpressed.

"What do you two want?"

"JD wants to know if you would...."

"No."

"You didn't even let me finish."

"Dom. You ask me every week if I will go on a date with JD. And every week I tell you the same thing. No I don't want to go on a date with him. I have a man. Leave me alone."

"You are lying. You don't have a man. Every week I ask you, he never shows up. And if you did have a man, I bet JD could beat him in that ring."

The camera man is in JD and Dom's faces. Than comes over to me and Ivy. I look over at her smirking.

"You think JD could beat my man?"

Ivy scoffs laughing looking back at me. I look back at Dom and JD.

"So JD, you wanna fight for me?"

He shakes his head yes as Dom puts his hands on his shoulders.

"Okay.... when do you want that beating?"

I cross my arms as the camera man is right in my face than an arm goes around my neck. I smirk slowly looking up as the camera follows my face to Braun Strowman standing next to me.

"Yeah! When do you want that beating?!"

I look at them smirking and they turn around running away. The camera man comes back to us as Braun turns my face towards him and kisses me hard infront of the whole world.

[darlingpwease]

I wonder if Can you write Yandere Omega Seth (from Ennead) if you okay with it

I'll find you

hide as much as you can // I'll find you

♡ fictional mythology, unhealthy behaviour, lovehate dynamic (love -> lovehate), animalistic behaviour, pet names, power exchange, mention of bloodletting (seth), hints of incestuous relationships?; beta!reader -> alpha!reader, heqet/khnum!reader implied

♡ rough treatment, mild blood kink, mild scent kink, heavy petting, dubious consent -> consensual, unprotected sex / breeding, bondage by sand, power imbalance -> power exchange; word 'womb' used once for Seth

𓂀 Contacting this omega is not the best solution — you realized when you first met him, while coming out of the Nile, the keeper of the floods of which you were.

Of course, it's not that you were obliged to communicate with any of them or even be interested in your distant relatives, who were no more than the seventh water on the jelly, but you needed to come out of the depths of the Nile at least from time to time — and when you finally come out, for the first time you meet an unusually red shade, burning like a torch against the background of burning golden sand and the sky blue as the waters of the Nile.

He was like a creature that was born from the spilled blood of all the fallen warriors who did not find their way home, but took refuge in your waters, sprinkling your waters over and over again until the river turns red like the sunset.

His name was 'SETH', he was the god of war and the desert, his parents were Geb and Nut — and when your gaze first crossed, it was as if you were hit on the head with something; almost a low cry of 'YOU WERE NOTICED' so loud that if you were human, you would turn away and run away, — under the sand, under the ground, under the water, no matter where, — but you are not a human and, even if you were weaker than him, you would not run away.

After all, who is the 'God of War and the Desert' against the Deity who keeps the Nile?

“Don't you dare look at me like that anymore.”

wolf cub.

You can guess that his behavior is probably an attempt to attract, as a fertile young omega provokes a fertile young alpha to get angry and chase after him, showing everything they can, just to prove that they are good enough to fill the womb. You know all this. After all, you were the one who created the figures of people who were illuminated by Ra, and you were more than able to watch these playtimes when the lovers went too far in their games and fell together into the coastal waters after a long chase.

And you more than know the brilliance of those eyes — and react faster than realize, like water, which acts intuitively, not relying on reason, to survive. They say that betas have a stronger intuition with understanding of the world — it's not for nothing that you are one of those gods who prefer maximum detachment, 'spirituality', achieved through refusing to accept the role of omega or alpha.

And you let your instincts dictate.

Before his cheeky mouth has time to say anything, you just have to make a wave so that the waters of the Nile aim at him like a beast that has found prey — and break against a strong, slender figure, without causing severe pain, but forcing him to take steps back, no longer bursting into your space.

SETH'S hair, dripping and darkened from the water, sticks to body — but before he has time to resist you in any way, calling to himself the sands of the desert, submissive to him like a tamed pet, you dissolve into the water, returning to your native current...

“I'll find you!”

... The waters of the Nile easily take you into themselves as a natural part, hiding you from the outside world, dissolving like everything that falls into the water abyss and stays here; it's not for nothing that people say that it was water that gave birth to life, and that water is necessary for life.

And although you are not a water Deity, you are also worth something.

𓂀 You know that this is not Ra — although the method of summoning is the same, Ra would rather strangle herself than summon you, especially so soon after the last arrival. Even if you had a... good relationship, — you both contributed to the appearance of 'humans' — it was obvious that you were still different.

Your clay figurines needed a bright fire to come to life, just as she craved worship and followers — it was an interchange where mortals became what brought you closer and pushed you away from each other.

However, SETH was looking for you for other reasons, quite different from 'worshippers'.

Although you are used to being summoned in other ways, such as sacrifices and festivals, you must admit that you clearly underestimated the son of Nut and Geb, who were no better than any of them — but at least they were smart enough not to try to find out from Ra a way to summon you without having to wait at Nila.

Because more than herself and power, Ra loved only to have fun — and sometimes you wondered if she was looking for power just to have fun.

“... Heh.”

When he looks down at you, like a child who has found a gift hidden from him, his scarlet lips stretch in a cheeky smile.

If most gods and goddesses somehow have more alpha and omega traits, then SETH looks like there are too many of these traits in him, like an omega-like alpha or alpha-like omega than beta.

“It turns out that this is the only way you can be summoned? I thought to the last that she was lying...”

The scarlet spot spreads across the water surface of the unusually calm Nile, dissolving in the streams of water that carry the particles with them, absorbing a new part of itself into its course. If people knew how much Nile water contains particles of their children, parents, friends, spouses, enemies, detractors, traitors — would they drink it?

If they knew that the same water absorbs the blood of the gods they worship, what would they look like, scooping up water like the purest gold — the same as he controls, the God of the Desert, smelling of sand dust, dry grass and heat?

“I don't care. You're here, so it was worth it.”

You don't think that the blood of God should be used for such things, like simply calling you from the river bottom, but don't say anything, giving someone to continue — and SETH continues without hearing an answer.

And although he, in fact, created a trap for you, filling the entire stone floor with his sand to make sure that you don't run away anywhere, you feel more like in the paws of a small puppy than in the cave of a mature wolf.

Wasn't it really an exaggeration to be afraid of him?

... Apparently, you have been under water for so long, absorbing the blood of warriors and animals, that you have become too sensitive to any danger...

“I promised you I'd find you.”

𓂀 SETH smells of freedom — not the freedom that has no limits or restrictions, only dead bodies that float along the Nile can have such freedom, but the freedom that is like the hot breath of the desert during the day and the icy whisper of the desert at night; it smells of heat, dry grass, the blood of soldiers and treasures captured with the help of weapons.

You pretend that you don't notice when treasures fall to the bottom of the Nile, and that, moreover, don't understand who gives you them; but it's hard for you to deny that you don't like the look of them. After all, the Nile is not just a 'river' or 'your home', but your temple and refuge, and the sight of expensive and precious things sheltering the once bare, dreary bottom undoubtedly improves the view and your mood; especially when the current of the river carries you further, and gold, like a lighthouse, shines; sprinkling the dark bottom is like the moon shining on the darkest desert night.

SETH is hot and fervent, like burning blood flowing out of him until you hand an object that can immediately contact you, instead of flooding waters, as if out of spite spending more than really needed, as if the more blood, the faster you will rise to the surface.

(in a sense, it is, but for other reasons...)

You can understand that this relationship is frowned upon, at least by his brother, but there's not much you can do — the waters of the Nile are all-encompassing and almost omnipresent, and the way SETH regularly calls you is almost charming if it wasn't so intense, as if every time he struggles with himself in the desire to devour you or to drag away, but at the same time I have to give up this need, which is close to the human need to drink water. You don't need to ask him about it to know — the way he looks at you, as if wanting to sink his teeth into your skin and take you to his cave, is more than eloquent, and even the way his smell intensifies, silently shouting that he is a strong, healthy and fertile omega, in itself is an obvious sign.

And the fact that you are just as quiet and calm, like serene dark waters, untouched by gusts of sandy wind, only further inflames his burning passion and desire, which he himself cannot describe in any way except as 'mine'.

Mine.

Mine mine mine — you give life, carry life, no matter in a running stream or standing water, watching as the surface is filled with bodies and blood, dirt and tears, bodies entwined in passion and love embraces. It doesn't matter — everything will be dissolved in your current and carried away until it becomes no more than another drop in billions of the same, carrying information that only you know.

SETH, on the other hand, carries with him the smell of something wild, giving life, — but also ruthlessly taking it for himself, strewing everything with the red-hot gold of the desert, which becomes more and more every time you rise, noticing how the waters that used to caress the fertile lands now nourish the sand.

And you know what will happen next — SETH has never been a secretive type, even if his method of hunting was closer to big cats hiding until they get close enough to bite into the throat and gnaw, taking them to their hideout. SETH is the same cat — big, red and strong, smelling of mature omega when he notices that you are more responsive to this fragrance.

SETH is not at all deeply interested in the topic of "let's mate" — are you sure that he is attracted not at all to your physical data or smell, but to how comfortable and safe he is next to you, letting him finally relax, looking for comfort in your waters, and that if he decided that you would be his, then you will be his.

He will always find you.

𓂀 SETH is persistent, stubborn and aggressive. Even if his emotions are a sphere that is easy to push and cause pain, you understand perfectly well that he is the god who will break rather than bend.

But when he asks you what happens to the bodies of those soldiers that he led to war, when they find themselves in the Nile, like bags full of blood, breathing and thinking recently, at first you don't know what to answer — not because you can't share his silent pain, looking like a scorpion that suddenly bared you have a soft vulnerable tummy, but because you have nothing to answer.

What happens to the bodies? The Nile absorbs them — everything that was dumped into the waters finds itself in the stomachs of animals or in water particles, carrying with it such an amount of memory that nothing else can contain.

“... If I die one day, will you promise that my memory will be preserved in your waters?”

You no longer know if you are talking about the waters of the Nile or something else — but you know that you will probably never find SETH like this again.

Unusually fragile, as if really an ordinary omega who just wants to have a family, a common nest and puppies. To have you as an alpha, to be in the same nest with you and to have children together.

What can you say other than consent? No matter what happens, he will always remain in your memory — as a special memory that will never be erased.

“... Thank you. I'll never forget you either. And I won't let go.”

His eyes are burning just like the sunset on the background.

“We'll be together. Always. Because I chose you and I won't let you go.”

𓂀 His power becomes stronger, and when you meet him again, you have nothing to oppose when the sand from the land and the bottom rises to grab you.

Undoubtedly, it wasn't something that you 'didn't expect' — SETH was never the type who tried to hide what intentions he had if he saw that it would affect your attitude, and even if he found comfort in your touches and hugs, covering him like a blanket from the whole world, he never had this safe habit of 'being content with little'. His intentions were obvious from the first meeting and did not change at all — you were perfect, from head to toe, the only one with whom he would like to spend one heat and then make you spend thousands more, finally feeling complete, finished.

He, the god of the Desert and War, with you, Deity of the Nile flood — is not the best couple that can be?

'No'?

... Ha, does someone think that things like "imperfect couple" or "more worthy" or "more accessible" or "morally wrong" or something else will stop him?

Does he need permission? If he wants it — he will get it. And nothing can stop him.

Even if you are a beta, you smell fertile, pleasant, sweet — you smell of life, sex, from which children are born, absorbing the spilled blood and creating from it what brings birth and fertility, and SETH has always been more than gambling and ready to put everything on the line.

And you knew it.

Even if you are safe in the water, once you get out, nothing can save you — especially when you step on the sand, which immediately becomes your cage, locking you in. The waters immediately splash out of the Nile, crushing on him, but now SETH moves only a couple of steps, becoming much more powerful — and when palms grab by the wrists while teeth close on neck, everything inside you starts screaming again that you need to run right now.

Now the sand turns out to be decorated with spots of the deity's blood.

His mark pulsates on never-marked neck — and although it is not the same among deities as among people, you clearly see that for him it was not at all 'just a bite' or a 'mating mark', but a sign of possession, while the pupils in the blood-red iris, the shade of red-hot metal, expand, and a nimble pink tongue licks the blood from scarlet lips.

Red.

RED RED RED.

Nails are no worse than the claws of a wolf, and even fangs look like they can easily tear apart a dozen other people who decide to intervene.

The sand squeezes your feet so tightly that you can't even twitch.

This is all completely wrong.

You cowardly escape into the waters — betas are not capable of mating, are not created for this, closer to 'asexual beings' who do not have a biological task in the form of giving birth, much closer to the primordial asexual matter than to the omegas and alphas giving birth, but for some reason a mark with an imprint burns on his neck which didn't exist before.

Was it you? Or was it the part of you that you denied? You didn't know. It is easier to plunge into the native waters than to try to figure out why for the first time its fragrance was so dizzying, or why you went for something like this. You're not like that at all — not like that at all. It's not normal.

But you'll have to get out soon anyway.

You don't want your omega to get hurt while calling you, right, alpha?

Interlude

“I'm surprised you decided to step in anyway, dear.”

When the sand almost gently wraps around your hands, you realize that the biggest stupidity you can do is to try to escape.

Even if there is water in things like vases in the room, this is too little to create the necessary amount — and even to make sand soft and heavy, such a meager amount is not enough, except to pour it on him and break a vase on this face.

“Wasn't it you who liked to be constantly huddled in your little shell? Hiding there from any danger and thinking that it will help you?”

His hands are not the same as before — slightly rough, wide palms that easily slide over your cool skin, leaving warm traces, slightly scratching with sharp nails, as if hinting that you should not do rash things; if he did not smell like a blooming omega, you would think that he was alpha or alpha-like beta.

“But it turns out that if it's not me, but someone else, then you're ready to help them! No matter how much blood I shed, you didn't come out — but as soon as it was Isis, you immediately got out to help.”

His mark on your neck has not been pulsating for a long time, but when his fingers touch your neck, he freezes for a moment, assessing the scar left, which is almost impossible to notice — and from something, your body again feels this soreness, fettering for a moment from the realization of what happened before the brain began to work feverishly.

Then.

Now you are experiencing phantom pain until you realize that it is not 'phantom' — SETH shamelessly licks your blood from his fingers when he realizes that he scratched the old mark.

“This is wrong.”

Even when blood drips down from the shoulder, you know that's not what you need to worry about — his body is hot as the desert during the day, especially when his hips easily sit on top of yours, taking care that the sand does not let go of your hands.

“I promised you I'd always be there for you; although it was you who avoided me all these years, not appearing even when the corpses filled the entire Nile, while the other gods were terrified of what was happening — but I understand. A lot to do, yes? You've always been busy and strict, ever since our first meeting, when you doused me like some kind of animal.”

The thick scent of omega is so strong that you are not sure if it smells from him or if it is something else — the same thing that made you bite his neck then; your bite is also still burning on his skin, although it looks much more noticeable on him, although you are sure that you bit weaker than him.

The sweet bloody fragrance makes you dizzy.

“And when I saw you, I realized that you didn't live well either; after all, who but me could take care of a hermit like you?”

His hands, in spite of everything, are omeganine soft and pleasant, even if he uses them to look even more wrongly charming, as if he did not sneak into your bedroom — in which you were definitely expecting this meeting — to "talk heart to heart" while his hot wet slippery thighs touch your hips,

obviously.

“I was doing the wrong thing. I gave you the 'right to choose', thinking that this is what lovers should do — but, you know, people around me explained to me what I did wrong. By own example. And I'm ready to show you what I should have done back then, instead of this idiotic thought that you'd think it over and make a nest with me...”

He purrs — deep in his throat, like a big cat, when a strong flexible hand gently rests on your chest while the second one uses the surface behind as a support, rubs against your thighs, leaving sticky wet traces of juice on your bare skin, from touching which your skin burns, and you don't look at him, making sure not to do anything you might regret,

“Look at your omega.”

but it's hard to do when his hand moves from your chest to your throat, not squeezing, but feeling quite threatening, even if you are sure that it will not cause any harm.

“Don't you dare take your eyes off me or I'll scratch them out. You can only look at me and see only me. No one else and nothing else.”

The way he hovers feels almost the same as when he was able to summon you for the first time — his hair hangs down freely, like the flames of candles burning around you, and the same abnormally bright glow burns in his eyes, like the eyes of a cat. Or a wolf.

An abandoned, starved wolf.

“... Like I said, no one cares about you but me — you can fight this idea all you want, but we both know it's true.”

It's wet, wet, hot, sticky, tight between SETH'S thighs — you didn't consider yourself a 'virgin', but when the smell gets stronger and sharper, even you need time to get rid of the veil of excitement that covers eyes in the basest way, looking at his strong thighs while red hair falls over his shoulders, revealing a view of the most handsome omega in your life.

“Therefore...”

His lips are scarlet, thin, beautiful, and when he bends over you, you can't feel the inarticulate delight and the misunderstanding that follows it, associated with the simultaneous desire to pull away from repeated unusual stimulation and the desire to take this stimulation, grab by the hair and breed until it becomes clear that you will need a joint nest, in which he will keep the puppies while you fill him again and again.

Over and over, until his belly is rounded.

This is wrong.

His legs are slender and strong, ideal so that you don't have to do anything while SETH is able to at least move his knees — but you are sure that if you just wrap your hands around his hips and squeeze, you will get much more pleasure and delight, hammering into him with the basest this is wrong in a way.

It's the smell of omega. Definitely the smell of omega.

You yourself can't feel like this for him — for omega, who first marked you, then pursued you for many years and now, finally getting a chance, immediately pounced like an overexcited wolf, to such an extent that you can see the juice flowing down his thighs, although you are sure that even he does not realize it himself, considering it nothing more than a 'punishment'.

“... let me take care of–”

Of course you will.

Everything happens in the blink of an eye — the water, the sand, astonished expression on his face and how it takes you no more than a couple of minutes to find yourself in a deliciously tight heat, from which his claws immediately scratch your hands holding him on his back until it bleed, but nothing in him tries to escape, even if SETH growls mixed with purring, choking on words as you snuggle tighter, allowing something more animal, dirty to take control.

You smell of life, passion, sex — 'the very sex from which children are born', the very life that gave rise to mortals, and you know that you have something to fill this womb with.

When his cheeks are covered with a bright blush, reminiscent of the shade of his eyes and hair; you can't help but reach out to burrow into his neck, not caring about the sand that is wrapped around your ankle — and not caring about the aggressive imperiousness with which SETH squeezes you while sharp fangs bite your lips almost to the point of blood, greedily kissing, almost devouring.

If you leave me again, I'll find you and kill you.

[chatterbox-73]

Kinktober 2024.

Day 16 - Size Difference.

Erwin Smith x fem!Reader

This story is a smut story for Kinktober, I’ll be writing more characters x reader one shots for Kinktober and if you want to see a character please let me know...

You must be 18 years or older to read this...

🔞⚠️NO MINORS ALLOWED⚠️🔞

A/n: H/L/N = husband’s last name.

This is also a repost.

Summary: you rush into marriage and now your stuck with a lousy husband, however once you get recruited as an on-site nurse for the survey corps you get to know commander Smith very well

Word count: 3.3k

CW: NSFW and adult content, size difference, cheating, fingering, y/n has a lousy husband, slightly catching feelings, mention of blood, rough sex, unprotected sex, pull out, implied squirting, belly bulge and slightly commander kink.

You were never one of those little girls that wanted to get married and have kids, but here you were. You settled and got married young, you didn’t love your husband, you weren’t satisfied with your husband, the man wasn’t even your type. However thanks to some frightening life lessons from your old sister, you rushed into marriage and now stuck with probably the most boorish, narrow-minded and egocentric man in the walls.

“We have guests coming over tonight, so prepare extra” your husband demanded as he walked up behind you and rubbed a hand over your butt, before giving it a light squeeze, “alright, who’s coming? So I can prepare something they’ll like” you asked, trying to play the happy little wife and stopping yourself from recoiling from his touch, “honestly it doesn’t matter it’s just a couple of soldiers… so make anything, just a lot of it” he spoke flatly before he walked to his study.

You had finished making the meal and had now began to set the table, while you waited for the guests to arrive. As you set out the final plate of food you heard a knock on the door, “y/n, hurry up and get the door” you husband yelled from his office, you rolled your eyes and answer the door. You were then met with the three commanding officers of the military regiments.

Nile Dok, commander of the Military Police.

Dot Pixis, commander of the Garrison.

And finally, Erwin Smith, commander of the Scout Regiment.

It took you a second to come to grips with what you were seeing, at first you thought your idiot husband, must have gotten into some kind of trouble with the Military Regiments, however if he had, soliders wouldn’t be so civil as to knock on the door, they’d just kick it in and rush the building.

After snapping out of your minor panic, you gestured for the men to come in, “come in… you’re right on time, I just finished setting the table… be sure wipe your boots on the door matt” you stepped aside and let all the men pass through, “straight down, second door on the left” you instructed as you closed the front door.

All the men made their way into the dining room and you told them to make themselves comfortable while you went and retrieved your husband.

When you return to dining room with your husband in toe, you found the three men looking at the small hand carved statues and the landscape paintings, that you had created in all your spare time at home once you got married.

After marrying your current husband, he demanded you to quit your job as a nurse and become the home body, and so to pass the time you began wood carving and paint.

“Sorry if you find those unsightly, my wife picked up the hobby as a way to pass time” your husband quipped, before side eyeing and silently asking you ‘why you didn’t put them away’, however you just ignored him and walked over the the eldest man of the three, who was holding a small white horse that had a black spot over its eye, that you had caved a few weeks ago, “do you like it?” You asked with a smile, the man nodded “yes, my grandson loves horses but we’ve had some difficulty finding toys he likes” Pixis went to place the horse down, “you can keep it if you’d like, I’m not save these figures from anything special” you said, before quickly taking out a handkerchief out of your apron pocket and wrapped the small figure in it, then passed it back to the man.

“Well we should start eating before the food goes cold” you smile and walk over to the table.

You sat and listen to the men conversant as you all ate, however the topic of why the sudden visit hadn’t been brought up yet and you felt yourself becoming impatient.

“If I may impose, but what was the reason for this sudden visit” you look between the three soldiers, “oh right, of course… you see we’re here to request your’s and your husband’s services in the Military’s medical unit” spoke Nile.

Both you and your husband looked shocked, but for two very different reasons “I’m sorry, I was under the impression my wife would have no part in this, she’s not even in service anymore” your husband said sternly, and you glared at him.

“Well that’s correct, however we looked through her medical reports and were also made aware of the short amount of time she spent in the training crops before she moved on to be a nurse” Pixis stated, and your husband snapped his head towards you.

You could see the displeasure in his eyes, “you were apart of the training crops?” He raised a questioning brow and you nodded, “for how long?” He asked condescendingly, like he believed you were dropped from the training crops, “about two years” you answered and then looked to the three man, “so where do you need us?” You smiled.

Pixis shifted uncomfortably before answering, “we’ll place you, Dr. H/L/N in Orvud District of wall sheena, and you, Mrs. H/L/N will be placed mostly in Trost District of wall Rose” he looked from you to your husband, “why won’t me and my wife be working together” your husband stated. “Unfortunately there’s only limited spots in the Orvud District’s medical unit and your wife’s skills are more suited to be with the survey corps, however if you’d like to join her in Trost District, your welcome to” Nile spoke and your husband looked to you, almost begging you to reject the offer so he could work in the inner walls without looking like a horrible husband for leaving you to work in a lesser and more dangerous area, “why don’t you take the job in Orvud District?” You asked with a smile.

Your husband smiled back at you, “because dear, I can’t leave you with the survey corps that’s dangerous” he held your hand, “I’m sure I’ll be fine, besides it’d be good to get some extra money to put in our savings, it’d help when we decide to have a baby” you smiled and place your other hand over top of his.

The way you spoke made it seem like everything was your idea and you were the one who wanted your husband to work in wall Sheena, however you really couldn’t care less where he was or wasn’t, but it was always easier on you to make him look like the good guy.

You weren’t sure if the other men could tell what you were doing, nor did you care, but your husband definitely appreciated it.

The rest of the night went fairly smooth, both you and your husband signed agreement forms and got information sheets about the days you’d be picked up and your tasks in the regiments you were assigned to.

Then came the day, you had a bag packed and you were picked up earlier in the morning by carriage, you said your goodbyes and got in.

Once getting into the carriage, you sat down across from Erwin and watched as he knock on the roof to signal the drive you were ready to leave.

The ride was relatively quiet until Erwin finally spoke, “we didn’t get to talk much at the dinner but the meal was lovely” he said and you smiled, “thank you, I’m glad you enjoyed it” you blushed, Erwin was a very handsome man and there was no denying that, he was your ideal type of guy, and everything your husband was not.

“So why did you drop out of the training corps? You were doing excellently, judging by the class reports we went through” Erwin held a curious expression in his eyes and you shook your head “I feel like I’d save more lives in medicine rather then in the survey corps ‘fighting for freedom’… no offence” you watched as Erwin chuckled at your words, his laugh was so hot… what were you thinking, your a married woman, you may not be happy but your marriage nonetheless.

“So what will I be doing when we get there” you asked, “well first, you’ll be given a uniform, I’ll take you to the training ground to see where you need improvement and then we’ll both write up a timetable, that will have your training times and your clinic times so you can take clients then” Erwin explained “so unfortunately for you, we’ll be spending a lot of time together” he smiled, and you chuckled, “I guess I’m lucky you’re so easy on the eye, commander Smith” you flirt and then mentally scold yourself.

You were all sweaty, hot and out of breath as you stood on a large tree branch, “are you alright?” Erwin asked as he stepped onto the same branch effortlessly “yeah, I guess I’m just a really out of shape” you chuckled and lean on the trunk of the tree, “you look like your in great shape” the man smiled and gave your body a once over, before you thanked him.

You both took off your ODM gear before moving on to hand to hand combat, you could tell Erwin was pulling his punch’s and that was until you got him right in the nose and he stumbled back a bit.

You when in for another hit, however Erwin grabbed your arm and pulled you towards him, then pushing you to the ground and pinned your hands behind your back, you look up at him and noticed he was bleeding.

“Oh my god, your bleeding” you struggle out of his grip and get up to look at his nose, “we should go inside its too dark out here to tell if it’s broken or not” you said in a panic and Erwin chuckled, “it doesn’t feel broken” you frowned at him, “yes but it could be” you pull him to his feet and drag him to the office you were assigned earlier that day.

You sat the large man on the chair and dabbed at his face, after cleaning any blood off his face you felt his nose to check if it was broken, luckily it wasn’t and so you gave him some tissues paper and told him to hold his nose until the blooding stop.

“Well I guess now is probably the best time to start working on your timetable” Erwin said as he wiped off any remaining blood from his face, “I guess your right” you said as you got some paper, ink and dip pens from a draw in your desk.

It didn’t take too long for you and Erwin to complete the timetable, Erwin also wrote a information sheet stating what services you offer and if the soldiers had any questions then to come and asked you, at the appropriate times of course.

You copied the sheet a few times and posted them in popular areas in the survey corps headquarters, like inside the barracks and in the dining hall.

It had been a week since you started working and you had requested for everyone to do a mandatory physical exam, you had started off with the young soldiers, then moved to the older soldiers and then finally to the captains and commanders of the regiment. There was a harsh knock on your door, “just a moment I have to finish up with someone” you called as you jotted Moblit’s height, weight and any physical markers you spotted while doing his exam.

“Are you ready to leave?” You asked Moblit as he slipped on his boot and he nodded, you opened the door to reveal a small grumpy man, “oh captain Levi, I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow” you smiled and ushered him in and let Mobile out, you shut the door.

“Yeah Erwin said that he was busy and asked if I could deliver the message” Levi’s frown deepened, “well while you’re here I can do your exam, if you’re comfortable?” You asked and the man nodded.

You went on with Levi’s exam, and the man was in top physical condition, took down everything you requested and asked him to dress, “while you dress I’m going to shout out some questions, please answer honestly” you said and began with your questions.

The sun began to set and by now Levi’s exam was over, you walked him out of you office and found Erwin standing across the hallway waiting for you to finish, Levi ‘tsk’ when he saw Erwin and then disappeared down the hallway.

“Oh my, I didn’t expect you here, I thought you were busy” you smiled and over the short amount of time you worked here, you’ve begun to feel for Erwin, his just so kind and handsome.

“Yeah, I finished all my work and figured if you ain’t too tired you’d be able to do my physical exam, or at least reschedule it” Erwin smiled sheepishly, “sure come in” you stepped aside and let the large blonde in, “I’ll do your examination today, please disrobe and place this towel around you” you lead him to an area with a curtain and you handed him a towel, “once your done disrobing, sit on that bed” you said and starting gathering some paper and placing it on a clipboard.

You almost dropped the clipboard as you watched Erwin sit on the bed, pulling yourself together you begin the exam with checking his ears, eyes, nose, mouth and head. “That looks all good now I need to take some measurements” you say and gestures for him to stand up, you take out your measuring tape and kick a little stepping stool over to him, for you to stand on while measuring him.

You start with Erwin’s arms, you had to fight the urge to squeeze his large muscles, but you finally managed to take length and then circumference and by god you nearly cream yourself at the width of his biceps, you then moved on to his chest measurements, your first instinct was to run your nails down his extremely broad chest and lick up his chiselled stomach, you tried with all your might to not give into your temptations, however you won’t so lucky, subconsciously you leaned in huffed in his delicious musk, while letting your finger trail down his front, tracing his abs and deep v cut, and once you realised what you did, you stepped off the stool and moved back from the man.

“I’m so sorry commander Smith, I don’t know what came over me” you said with a red face, you were obviously lying, you wanted Erwin more then anything but you were a married woman and although you didn’t love or care for your husband, you were above cheating… you think… “it’s fine, I understand, you miss your husband… it gets quite lonely here, doesn’t it?” Erwin asked take a few steps forward causing you to take a few steps back, until you bumped into the desk.

“Look at me and honestly tell me you don’t want this, if so I’ll get dressed and leave, but if you can’t…” Erwin stood over you, he grabbed your face and made you look at him, “and if I can’t?” You question and Erwin chuckled, “I’ll fuck you silly” you swallowed.

“If I’m being honest I want you, but about my husband?” You asked as you maintained eye contact, “and what about him, what he doesn’t know won’t kill him” Erwin picked you up effortlessly and walked you over to the bed, before lying you down.

You laid on your back naked moaning, shadowed by Erwin’s figure, as he pumped two thick finger in and out of you, while rubbing your clit with his thumb and quickly worked you over the edge.

Erwin pulled his fingers out of you “you should be ready for me” he pulled you towards him, so your ass was just on the edge of the bed and place his length on your mons pubis, before pushing his hips to meet yours and this aloud him to measure his length against you.

Erwin lifted his member off you and poked just under your bellybutton “this is where you’re gonna feel me baby” Erwin smirked as you blushed and told him to stop being like that. Erwin pulled back and began to rub the tip of his lofty manhood against your folds.

You moan at the way he teased you, “just put it in, I’m desperate commander” you whines and you then felt two of Erwin’s finger spread you lower lips apart before pushing his throbbing tip in you.

You gasped at the painful discomfort that came with the unnatural stretch, even your first time wasn’t this painful.

“It hurts… it- it hur- hurts” you cried as you grabbed the bed in a death like grip, Erwin gave you all the time you needed to adjust to him and once your cries of pain turned into whines of pleasure he then slowly pushed more of himself in, you cried out loudly and arched your back as his cock came to the hilt, you heard him groan as he placed a hand on your lower stomach, “shit you need to see this” Erwin said through grit teeth.

You looked down at his hand and watched as he lifted it, there you saw a bulge in your belly and you brought your hands down to it, then began to rub it.

“Mmmm so full” you moaned looking up at Erwin and suddenly the man started thrusting in and out of you, keeping your hand on your lower stomach you felt Erwin’s girthy erection drag against you tight walls, “it feels so good Erwin” you breathed out between moans. Erwin grabbed your hips and pulled you into his rough thrust, you reached out to grab his arms as you gasped out in an attempt to stop him and when you finally got a hold of his arms it just gave Erwin more leverage in his brutal pace.

When you dug your nails into Erwin’s biceps, he left you off the bed and tangled a hand into your hair, before pulling back on it causing your back to bend.

In this new position Erwin pace never slowed it just got harder and deeper, you put your face in the crook of his neck to muffle you pleads and cries.

Erwin felt you tightening around him and grunted, “you gonna cum for your commander? Huh baby?” He placed you back on the bed and roughly gripped your hips, while leaving his pace unchanging.

You nodded as the knot in your stomach tightened and your the pressure in you throbbing cunt became unbearable, just as you began to cum on Erwin’s thick cock, he quickly pulled out of you and you suddenly feel all that pressure in the cunt release in a gush, “fucking hell, baby” you heard Erwin moan and you felt warm liquid spurt onto you.

You laid on the bed with your eyes closed and panting for a while, until Erwin’s hands wiped you down with the towel.

“I know this wasn’t your first time, but there’s some blood here, is that normal?” Erwin asked as he started dressing you, you nodded “yeah, you were just too rough with me” you whine at the pain.

You were then scoop up in Erwin arms and he carried you across the room to the door on the other side of the room, which leads to your private quarters.

Erwin lays you down in bed and sat on the bed until you feel asleep.

When you woke the next morning you noticed a note on the pillow next to you, as you reached to get it you could feel a sharp ache all over your body, but most notably in your hips and lower back.

You read the note and it stated that Erwin requested the clinic be closed today because you were having a day off, after you finished reading, you dropped the note and went back to sleep, to hopefully rest off the pain.

Kinktober Masterlist

Day 15 - Jiraiya: Seeing red.

Day 17 - Asahi Azumane: A/B/O.

[starryvioletnight]

Soft House MD Ship Things

Too lazy to write a fanfiction about these, here ya go.

Camteen (Cameron x Thirteen):

Thirteen likes to watch Cameron work. She likes seeing her razor sharp, focused, in charge.

Mostly because once Cameron realizes Thirteen is watching her, her face almost literally melts, becoming soft around the edges, and her eyes light up. She'll smile so big Thirteen has to look away

Thirteen dyes Cameron's hair. They have all the supplies in their home that Cameron keeps in a neat caddy under the sink. Thirteen is so methodical with her approach that Cameron has fallen asleep while her fingers are in her hair.

Cameron does make tea for Thirteen. She makes her favorite tea in the mornings, herbal tea when she's sick, something warm and cozy on fall nights... While Thirteen was already well versed in the hair dye scene, Cameron went out of her way to learn different techniques for steeping, boiling water, etc, to make the perfect cups of tea.

Choreman (Chase x Foreman)

When asked about when they got together, they pick random dates and random stretches of time, just because they don't think it's anyone's business. But they do know, and are secretly huge saps about it, buying each other 1 month, 2 month anniversary gifts, etc.

Foreman loves to game late into the night, which is usually fine cause Chase is a heavy sleeper. On the rare occasions he's woken up Chase, Chase will come to the living room and drag him to the bed for apology cuddles.

They argue about medicine a lot at work, because they have such opposite viewpoints. It's a solid rule that they don't talk about work at home, and if one says something that goes too far while working, they apologize at home and spend quality time doing something together (like playing games or cards, or cooking together, any activity really).

Everyone thinks Chase is a bigger romantic, but it isn't true. Chase is romantic in small ways; fixing the coffee before breakfast, getting Foreman his favorite snacks when shopping, helping Foreman with his half of the house work when he's too tired. Foreman is romantic in big ways; planning fancy dinners months in advance, finding time for both of them to get PTO and get away for a few days, those sorts of things.

Finally, Hilson (House x Wilson)

While not a fan of it himself, House has watched the show Fraiser all the way through because of Wilson. When Wilson looked on softly at the scene where Daphne and Niles sings Heart and Soul together while cooking, House made a mental note. Now he plays it when he's between pieces, or taps it out while thinking, because he knows it brings Wilson a small kind of domestic joy.

Of course, House's own compositions and home-recitals of the greats steal Wilson's breath away. He's careful to never over-praise, House thinking it forced after a compliment or two, but Wilson would love nothing more than to shout to all he knows how talented his lover is.

Wilson picks up small hobbies to keep him occupied, as to not work himself to death. House's favorites, and the subjects of most of his ridicule, are knitting and crocheting. Wilson loves seeing House in the things he's made, like a scarf or stocking cap when it's cold, and House likes having a physical reminder of Wilson when he isn't around.

House teaches Wilson Spanish. He knows Wilson wants to learn, but doesn't often push himself past watching telenovelas (always with subtitles on). After a rocky start, Wilson and House can have conversations in Spanish, and House feels a stab of pride whenever Wilson uses it to talk to a patient.

Their main dynamic never changes, after all that was how they got this far in the first place, but now they find saying I love you is a quick way to disarm the other; whether in the middle of bantering, pranking, arguing, anything. An unexpected I Love You sends the other reeling, relishing in the way the words come naturally, and how now, after all these years, they've finally let each other say it.