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daze4all · 3 months

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Dragons Heat - Year of Dragon Smut NSFW

“This heat ahh think I’m in rut. I haven’t been in centuries but you look so delicious…Help me dear please?”

Warning: NSFW Breeding tail kink, alpha dragon omega reader dynamics. heat rut. Biting aphrodisiac venom. Mating press. Door sex

Reader is the only fertile dragon hence it falls to her to replenish the diminishing population with some help….

A tail of Teasing

Dragon! Hubby x Reader

Could be Neuvelette, Zhongli, Dan Feng( Honkai Star Rail, Malleus (Twisted Wonderland) , Jiyan (Wuthering Waves any dragon characters

The Dragon Daddies ( More pics of Dragon & Genshin Bois at end~)

Dan Heng aka Dan Feng Imbibitor Lunae - Honkai Star Rail- High Elder of the Ancient Chinese Spaceship Loufu - Dragon Race: Vidyhydra

Malleus Draconia- Male! Maleficent-the Thorn Dragon boi from Sleeping Beauty- Twisted Wonderland

Jiyan - Wuthering Waves (TBA) - Dragon man?

Soft feathery fur and glistening scales as your lover’s tail thumps beside you a sunlight lazy day.

Always honest often when your dragon partner is not.

His desires concealed by gentlemanly manner ad polite niceties while his tail deviantly wraps around your leg out of site or slithers round your waist in pubic or in sleep to keep you from straying.

Lately he had been teasing, touching, marking you with his scent unbeknownst to you. He had been more touch starved than usual sign of rut both were unaware of as it had only awaked due to him now having a mate in the long years, he had been alive.

His eye predatory as he watches every single move you make.

His face flushed from heat and eye widen with want fixated on the vulnerable nape of your neck as you take sip or put up your hair. His instincts clawing to claim you before anyone else took you.

He holds back. As ever the gentlemen and distinguished member of the community composed cool an aloof, he cannot take you over the table with so many spectators at the charity ball you been invited too. Despite the heated pants and blush trailing up his neck and ears that becomes stronger whenever you bend down or even smile at him.

The best he can do is stay close. Your presence soothing and stoking the fire in him as he stalks your every move with a predatory stare.

Flanking your side like a shadow an arm wrapped possessive over yours a bit too tightly as he escorts you at the banquet they were forced to attend.

Then at dinner pastry too close too flirtatious a man reaches out and offers you dance his gaze raking your form clearly seeing when your partner saw in you and he cannot hold it. How impertinent you were dragons’ mate he’d show it damn the consequences.

“She’s mine” eyes narrowed he hisses A possessive arm pulls you from the main venue. A tail flicking angrily pulling you away into the hallway and into an empty room. A dragons possession claimed by him touched by another could not allow.

What gotten into you? You ask perplexed naive innocent and all so unknowably thinking it was irritation anger that has him flushed and riled up. He was so snappy these days and so touchy to manhandle you.

“I need you” he groans, and you get the cue as he pulls weakly at your and his clothes his lingers touch to hips back and shoulder insinuating what he wants.

He reaches out for you his arms trapping you in embrace against the door with thunk. The door locking shut and pressed up against heated bodies.

His chaste kiss led playful nip then a horny lip bite leading you two stumbling into bedroom.

Unable to control himself his true form manifests. Growing majestic horns and swishing tail complete with spreading glowing patches of scales where smooth skin is.

“Why did you pull me away what’s wrong “softer concern in your eyes soothing him by touching his horn at its base of which normally calms him down or has him purring in your lap on lazy days.

However, the touch only serves to rile Him up as he growling snorts pulling away as such softness when beast inside wants to ruin you. He instead pressed his growing need again you and ruts.

“This heat ahh think I’m in rut. I haven’t been in centuries, but you look so delicious…” he gasps as he slams you against the door repeatedly pressing his need and want against you as you redden.

“I smell you . your ready . so wet “he whispers in your ear grasping at a empty stomach but not for long

“Ah will you help my dear I need you right now?” he begs pretty tears and flushed face. Frazzled loosening normally perfectly pressed clothes as he lean over you against the door his face beautiful but pleading face flushed and teary eyed despite his intimidating towering frame.

You let out startled cry as you cry his name as your knees go weak in a surge of pain and pleasure.

“Don’t look at other men. Don’t even think about them just me” he growls possessive breath at your neck tickling as he licks and scatters love bite on your neck. Sucking the pulse point before sinking in fangs turning it into a deep claiming a bloody claiming mark.

And slight sense of panic that dulls. Before feeling slightly drowsy like in dream as syrupy sweet pleasure seeps in and heats your core. His bite injected apodrosiac venom making you his mate as sensitive and receptive to heat as he was.

Dazed and flustered as he ways.

“ah sorry my dear are you okay?” he says panicked when he realizes what his instincts drive him to do. However still heated and turned on by the slow slide of your blood feeling himself swallow thirstily for more.

A purr rumble though his dragon side at approval of the claiming bite bruised and bloody on your neck Now no one could mistake who you belonged to. . .

“ah it okay just ahh this heat I see now how cannot you stand it…” found yourself saying to soothe him and the heat building in your body. Panting heavily was this how he felt liethe whole week? You give him a dazed smile high on the pleasure.

“Don’t’ hold back…ahh now can you help me?” You assent leaning into him transfixed glazed eyes filled with lust. He descends equally hungry and horny.

You shouldn’t I could hurt you he intones eyes darkening barely restrained.

“Ah I trust you “ you assert a chaste kiss turning horny as tongue and teases to bite down briefly the monster in his desiring a bit of blood riling him up further.

A startled sound of surprise normally as he us not this aggressive but gentle afraid to break but the beast unleashed he is now unable to hold back.

“I’ll make it good, pleasurable, you’ll see” he promises joy lighting up his feature making them glow so godly at that moment,

“ahh you were meant for this to be bred” he thinks aloud his tail winds up your leg the tip teasing you as you rut closer for delicious friction in vain held in place by tensing tail a playful squeeze to remind you who is in control.

“Don’t say that its embarrassing… “ you cry tears of pleasure welling up although you get wetter at the words.

“Ah I think you like it see how wet you are, how open ready to take me” he teases mind hungry to fill you breed youas he turns you your back tail and fingers teasing youas you rock backinto pleasure

“Trust me~”

Swaying before him your bottom tempting him. He ruts into your soft thighs. He is undone. A slave to instinct and a rut addled brain urging him to breed his mate quickly

Stuck on your stomach his hand pressing firmly and a tail between your legs teasing each fold delivering spark of pleasure. Softly coaxing at the tip featherlight tail drives you mad and dripping.

Teasing before delving in with gaps arch your gasp too full too big and yet pressing ever closer.

He had his mate in a mating press glued together wet and glistening the fluid as he delves deeper .

“ahh Too big “you protest as he soothes you stroking exposed arm legs anyway his hands can get ahold of and nibbling at your ears

"shh your doing so good just a little more"

“Good girl ah you feel mmh so good”

He says love drunk on you panting. Desperate movement seeking pleasure friction as his undone hair cascades and brightens in arousal his horn tail casting iridescent glow on you.

For you push back in vain only to hit the sweet spot as he ruins you his dear precious mate.

“Ah ah wait for the real thing” he teases as he withdraws his tail from his mate and winds it around a leg to keep her in place.

“Wait that was… “you trail off your eyes widen in embarrassment blush searing your ears . A sly smirk is all the answer you need.

“no way… your tail” you cry embarrassed

“I had to prepare you somehow” he explains a cheeky grin before he descends fast sudden into your well prepared slick hole groaning as you fit perfectly.

You cry his name as he enters filling you and reaching rhythm that has you screaming in pleasure

Closing his eyes and purring in contentment. The tip of his swishing tail glowing in time to his thrusts undone by how easily you are wet you are for him and you groan alongside him.

Your protests are swallowed. Weakly, feebly, futilely as pleasure courses through you. Toes curling hips shaking as he presses further widening opening you to take his seed,

“You are doing so good just a little more…” he bullies you with his length burying further till he hit the spot that has you seeing stars.

Walls scraping and squeezing his pulsing hardened cock just right coaxing his seed to spill into you hot and creamy taking root for new life. Ahh he needed you

His eye glow tail as do his horns and the tip of glistening tail as he commands you “Cry for me”

As a whine left parched lips reaching your high bucking into him for more delicious friction as your filled.

“Perfect~” He purrs in contentment nuzzling you for cuddles after duty well down. He remains nestled in you warmth milking and warming what remains as you shake with tremors of pleasure wrecked and overwhelmed and oh so sensitive.

After a while he flips you forward to see your flushed face. He bares his teeth hungrily at prey…eyes glowing full of love obsession and lust darkening at the sight of you layed out panting beneath him exhausted wrecked by him with your neck bared for him to take and take …

“Did I do good? “ you ask dazed but warm and safe in his cuddling embrace.

“So good dear in fact can we go again?” he whispers pleading as he shifts his hip with squelch still impossibly hard from the rut. You are now so wet from the combination of your love juices as he slides again smoothly picking up speed as you fall to the dragon's appetite once again.

“Just on the bed this time” you concede as you both fall onto silken sheets.

Happy year of Dragon everyone! Here to share an Extra dragon boy artwork for happy new year~ I think it's Malleus but looks like Dan Feng?

Zhongli-Earth Dragon- Morax/Rex Lapis Geo Archon of Liyue from Genshin Impact

Neuvillette- Water Dragon - Judge of Fontaine from Genshin Impact

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dr-felitas · 10 days

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MY BEST FRIEND- GOJO SATORU

my one and only...

from me to you: this is dedicated to your dear stranger anon. yes, yes i know you didn't request anything but i've written this just for you as a small gift because i know that you have many exams stacking up right now and in the near future. so i hope that those words will reach you as they fly away with the wind like sacred doves carrying out a letter. good luck with all your exams <3 + cause of your exam yesterday as like a little gift to refresh from whatever that thing was

synopsis: satoru gojo - s.g., the letters you've used to carve into the moist tree bark, wishing that one day you'll be his, will one day be engraved onto the wedding band you'll carry around your ring finger. it's an oath - a vow that he'll fulfill, he promises. after all, satoru gojo has always been yours, no matter if there was a ring around his finger or not.

pairing: gojo satoru x reader | wordcount: 2.6k | content & warnings: childhood friends to lovers, word vomit, making out in one scene, gojos backstory (not particularly compliant with canon gojo backstory, i’ve made my adjustments here and there to fit the story BUT no major changes), gojo being a cocky kid and turning into some obnoxious loud teenage boy, mentions of megumi and tsukimi, tba if i feel like adding more, i’ll proofread tmrw (i always do LOL); oneshot

a/n: gojos been growing on me

satoru gojo is your best friend - he’s always been; he’ll always be.

satoru gojo and you grew up side by side, the two of you were inseparable ever since childhood. people knew that if satoru were to appear somewhere you’d be right at his side, it was the same the other way around.

while satoru was like the positive pole of a magnet while you were the negative one, despite being polar opposites you’d still get attached to each other, glued to one another until they get split up. (although that’d never be the case because the both of you always find your way back to one another.)

you’ve known him ever since he was a scrawny and spoiled kid that was missing two teeth in the upper and lower row of his teeth. satoru has always been someone who’s gotten pampered, whether it was in gifts, praise or affection. he was the golden child, destined to carry out the task to be the strongest - a gift, some say. or was it rather a burden to bear to be the strongest? a curse cast upon him?

on the other hand, he’s seen you in all your awkward middle school and highschool phases. the “teeth adorned by braces” phase, the “i’m not like the others, no one understands me!” phase, the “face and back covered in acne” phase and many more. throughout all of these periods in your life he has always been by your side though, telling you “i told you so.” as he scoffs but being supportive nevertheless.

after all, that's what best friends are for.

the first time you met satoru gojo was in some closed off forest near your neighborhood. you’ve always gone here during your leisure time, playing hide and seek with your friends, stargazing near the river side and building shelters out of decayed wooden branches - that's where you find him.

his white hair stood out immediately, he was easy to spot from afar, like a prey with bright fur that could easily be taken advantage of. “hey you!” you shouted as you strided over to the boy who was shorter than you by a head, you noticed his knees are scraped and there's dirt all over his clothes. he snapped his head right at you, enigmatic blue eyes staring right at you.

azul colored eyes that glowed like the surface of the water as the sun shined down on it and as the wuthering waves that chaotically danced around in the ocean, gazed at you with skepticism. they’re so pretty - ethereal even.

but then, how come they looked so dull, plain - lifeless?

“if you have nothing to say and keep staring at me like that you can just leave.” the young boy spat as he tensed his eyebrows. “i have enough of the likes of you at home already. gawking at me all day long, makes me sick to the stomach.” he complained bitterly and looked down to the red and brown maple leaves that were splattered around the floor, before swaying his gaze back to you. autumn has officially arrived.

rude much. you thought to yourself. but admittedly it did look like he was telling the truth, his gaze was still fixated on yours, sharp as ever. you felt a bit bad, but only a tad. after all he had no business being this impolite, the both of you looked the same age - hell maybe he was even younger due to his stunted growth. also, this was your place, your secret base, so he had no reason for being this rude.

you returned his unimpressed stare. “m’sorry but how could i possibly ignore someone whose eyes are literally the same color as papa smurfs skin tone.” you say, hoping to get some kind of offended reaction out of him.

although the reaction that you were anticipating to get was nothing like the actual reaction you’ve gotten. “who or what is papa smurf?” the boy stopped tensing his shoulders and tilted his head in confusion as he scrunched up his nose.

“you're joking!” you shouted in surprise. “jeez, could you speak any louder?” the boy retorted in annoyance. “and no, no i’m not.” he muttered.

at that you were only able to laugh loudly, clearly riling him up. “what is wrong with you?” the boy asked, still confused. normally you would’ve been offended, perhaps even sad but this time it's different because you can tell that he doesn't actually mean it like that.

“sorry, sorry.” you covered your mouth with your hand, preventing your remaining giggles to escape. “you’re really funny, you know that?” you said as you looked down at him, blatant disbelief written all over his face.

“excuse me?” he asked as if he needed you to repeat that to know that he hasn’t misheard you.

“you’ve heard me, don’t pretend like you didn’t!” you pouted in annoyance. “wanna be my friend? we can even be best friends if you want to!” you asked in a cheery sing-song voice, eyes lighting up with joy.

best friend. two unfamiliar words that nicely rolled down his tongue. satoru wasn’t used to the concept of befriending someone, everyone whom he grew up around with were his house maids or cleaning staff and some old hags that came by from time to time to discuss matters with “him.” his only task was to “sit politely and smile” as he only had to sit in the same room as his parents as they talked about their plans for his future, while he could only bore himself around with some books which he has probably read about three times now.

it certainly would be a nice change of fresh air, his mother would probably scold him for ruining his expensive clothing and befriending someone of lower status that wouldn’t benefit his family him. but, really at the current moment he really couldn’t care less.

“sure.” he held out his hand, asking permission to intertwine your hand with his to shake hands. you reciprocated the action and placed your hand in his as you shook his hand in delight.

“a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” the young boy said as he let go of your hand.

“yeah, same here!” you replied happily and suddenly started to search your pockets for something, as he could only wait. finally you pulled out a small fabric - a plaster he notices. “here!” you tried to hand it to him but he can only look at you in confusion. “for your wound on your knee.” you point out which immediately makes him look down, how come he didn't even notice? “ah, right.” he said, gratitude clearly showing in his voice as he sticks the plaster onto his knee.

“wait! i don't even know your name.” you say hastily as you pull out another item out of the pockets of your trousers, it’s a pen this time. “here take it and- ugh wait, it's such a hassle!” he could only look at you as you rolled up the sleeve of your striped shirt, revealing a plaster on your elbow. “here! sign it with your name. i’ll do the same, if that is of course okay with you.” you ask nervously. “yeah!” he says a little too quickly for his own liking, surprising himself.“i mean sure.” he corrects himself.

you only shook your head and smiled as your pen slid over his plaster, it tickled but he refrained from laughing, deeming it as unprofessional. he looked down at his knee, your name now brightly shining in a neon green on his plaster. he returns the action, elegant penmanship, lithe letters ornamenting the plaster on your elbow.

satoru gojo, huh?

the atmosphere became a bit tense, you didn't notice not until satoru uttered a quiet “thank you.” and gave you an awkward smile, shy and not exactly knowing what to do.

you hope that he didn't notice the tips of your ears going red. “ah it's nothing” you say in a pip squeak voice, happily beaming at him.

if satoru wasn't smiling before he definitely now was, grinning from ear to ear.

no, it's everything but nothing. 11 years ago, on one of the first days of autumn you showed satoru gojo just how beautiful the world outside can be. freeing him from the cage he was kept in. introducing him to the concept of “friends”, - best friends.

there has always been an unspoken rule between the two of you to never say “i love you” to one another. bickering and banter like an old married couple, teasing each other with flirty remarks - anyone would guess that you’re dating. but the both of you always brushed it off by reasoning it with saying. “we’ve been friends ever since we were 6-7? he’s like a brother to me!”, “nope we’re just friends.”, “us? dating? no way!”

but everyone could tell that there was something going on between the two of you, perhaps everyone but you guys.

“aww, are those my initials you’re carving onto the desk? how romantic! reminds me of how you used to carve our initials into trees!” he teased.

“no, those are sugurus initials! s and g! suguru geto! dumbass.” you rejoindered.

“they’re at it again?” shoko sighs. “have been for the past five minutes, you know what they’re like.” suguru replies as he offers to light up her cigarette which she happily agreed to, holding out her cigarette.

“i still think that satoru’s gonna confess first.” shoko said as she blew the smoke out of the classroom window. “don’t think so, he’s too scared to ruin their friendship or in other words he’s a pussy.” suguru answers. “hm, good point.” the brunette hums as she taps the cigarette against her lips.

“SHOKO NO SMOKING IN THE CLASSROOM!” utahime barged into the classroom and immediately threw the cigarette that shoko held in her hand out of the window. “aww, bummer, that was my last one.” shoko sighs. “well, maybe that's your sign to-” “SATORU GET YOUR ASS BACK OVER HERE.” before utahime can finish scolding shoko, you interrupt her. “oh god, don't tell me they’re still at it.” utahime says, a deadpan expression on her face.

“sorry to disappoint you.” shoko and suguru reply in unison which utahime can only scoff and roll her eyes at.

just normal best friend activities, right?

drinking out of the same bottle, sharing an indirect kiss. holding hands in big crowds to not lose each other, looking out for him only to find him already staring at you.

there have been many tender moments that the two of you shared together. because you’re best friends, siblings who aren’t related, different blood running through one anothers veins.

so cuddling under the same blanket and humming melodies that put you at ease, patching him up after he’s hurt himself once again and delicately brushing over the bandaged wounds just like the first time the two of you met, sharing an umbrella and snuggling yourself on his shoulder.

it’s normal, after all it has been like this ever since the two of you were children, so why should growing up change this?

because this is what best friends do, right?

a night sky filled with an endless amount of stars, the cloak of the night is wrapped around the two of you as the moon; the circled orb and the stars shine down on you, casting their bright light upon your bedroom.

one hand clinging around his disheveled white hair as the other one moves around his body, tracing his jaw down to his abdomen as you continue to kiss him. a pair of lips meeting another one, his tongue pokes at your lower lip, requesting access to enter, you oblige and he explores the depths of your mouth.

pulling away, face flushed and out of breath as you pant, but still wanting - longing and yearning for more.

you’re hit with the realization that normal friends don't do this.

sometimes your friends weren’t able to make time for you or rather they didn’t want to make time for you, excusing it by saying they’re busy with exams or they’re already meeting up with someone else - both being blatant lies.

as for satoru he was always available - he’d always make time for you. going to the new cafe you’ve discovered, come along and take a stroll with you, try out a new hobby - satoru would always be excited to try something new if it was with you.

comforting you as you’ve worried about failing your exams, helping you study and even offering to tutor you, soothing your worries by massaging your back or gently caressing your body. he’d always have a way to make you feel better.

perhaps the only friend you’ve ever needed by your side was your boyfriend.

the lock of your front door is clicking as satoru opens the door and barges into the entrance area of your shared home. “i’m home!” your husband announces loudly.

upon hearing his voice you rush over to him, beaming as you spot him. “‘toru!” you wrap your arms around the crook of his neck as you bury your head into his chest and nuzzle your nose into his button up, inhaling his musky cologne.

“you missed me so bad.” he teases.

“yeah, guess i did.” your smile only widens when you look up to him and see his flustered expression.

you withdraw yourself from his body and take a step back. “what do you want for dinner?” you ask.

satoru can only slightly shrug with his shoulders. “i’m fine with anything as long as you cook it, nothing beats your food.” he replies as he removes his black jacket.

“oh shut up.” you roll your eyes as you giggle.

“it’s the truth.” he laughs.

“mhm, fine. but don’t complain when you’ll end up with megumi's leftovers.” you say.

“hey! no fair.” he chuckles. “but i suppose you’ve already tucked him into the bedsheets? eating before me, how could you!” he jokes in an offended manner and you can only hum in response. “yeah it was tsumiki’s suggestion, she said she’d wanted to learn for a test but didn’t want to eat alone.” satoru can’t help his lips quirking up as he hears that, an affectionate smile finding its way onto his face.

you step over to your dining table and seat yourself onto one of the leather chairs, propping your chin on the palm of your left hand. your wedding ring glowing in the iridescent living room lightning.

the letters s.g. are finely engraved into the inside golden wedding band, symbolizing you as his and him as yours, as if he hasn't always been yours - wedding band or not.

“come on, get changed, pretty boy.” you take a sip out of your kombucha tea and smile warmly.

“will do.” he returns your smile with an even softer one - a more lovesick one.

yeah, you have both him and his initials wrapped around your finger.

special shoutouts to @azullumi who's helped me with this (he didn't he literally sent me a deathwish -> me drowning..like hello..??) anyway azul i love love love love u sososososo much hhihihihi. (not pedo or reverse pedo??) talking to you is always such a fun part of my daily life/ became a part of my routine that always makes me look forward to it. even though time zones suck ass. (i should really start doing like a list of the things i wanna say here cause i feel like im getting repetitive) again anyway i hope school isn't kicking your ass too much right now, all your projects and exams etc. im wishing you luck with all of them but i already know that you're gonna pass with flying colors - if not i don't care, i'm proud of you regardless. ps: goodluck surviving 51° i'd literally melt into a puddle so like compliments and praises to you for surviving this fucking heatwave 😭😭

e/n: reblogs, comments, reblogs WITH comments are always very much appreciated!!

#𝓣𝓞𝓞𝓡𝓤𝓡𝓢: works ✯#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu gojo #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru fluff #gojo satoru x you #jjk x you #jjk x gender neutral reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral reader

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sh1-n0bu · 4 months

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can i request something?? can you do modern relationship with scara??

✿ 𝒊𝒕’𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝑰 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖! ✿

characters: modern!scaramouche x nb!reader

warnings: modern au!!!, fluff, crack, my poor attempt at humor, scara has a bad relationship with his moms, written with high school au in mind, scara being bad at feelings, headcannon format, raiden shogun goes as raiden shino since shogun is a title rather than a name and all…

notes: when that one song u used to religiously listen to when u were younger and cringier suddenly comes rushing back in for a fic idea

oh dear gods, where do we even begin with this one?

tsundere to the max and we all know, his moms knows it, you know it, the entire school knows it, even the online friends he plays games with knows it

which explains on how you knew that scaramouche had a crush on you the moment he started showing small signs of it. waaaaayyyy before he even understood his own emotions and feelings and came to terms with it

safe to say, he is super easy to read. like, a motherfuckin open book that’s full of illustrations made for kids. at least, that’s how it feels to you anyways

has a bad relationship with both of his mothers and his older sister but at least he tolerates his older sister better than his mothers, which is a good thing. at least he has someone to turn to when something goes wrong

him, his mom ei and his older sister are carbon copies of each other alongside his aunt. the first time you went over to scara’s place to prepare for an upcoming exam, you almost got whiplash from just how many similar purple people were there

like… low-key concerning with how you easily mistook his mom ei with his aunt or his older sister with his mom ei

safe to say you made a fool out of yourself for the first few meetings with his family

his other mom, miko, is very… eccentric to say the least. teasing, sly, quick-witted, charming and charismatic. you and scara joke around that miko was a fox or a demon in her former life

his older sister, shino, is quite the sweetheart one the other hand. quiet, reserved, socially awkward and friendly if you go over how her normal face looks so emotionless and dead. reminds you of a soldier or a puppet with how shino is so willing to fulfill ei’s wishes or words to the T

his aunt, baal, is an absolute sweetheart. the ultimate sweetheart actually. such a sweet woman she is with her soft words, warm smiles and motherly affections. she offered you a hand-made cookie when you were about to leave simply because you were scara’s friend!

yes, you cried to the amount of kindness and scara made fun of you for it

you would never peg someone as mean, introverted and arrogant as scaramouche to be friends with the popular, soccer kid from school did ya’? well you are wrong because scara and childe are best friends!!! as childe claims

the ginger-head made a bet with scaramouche saying that you two’s friendship won’t last. cue scaramouche and his over competitive ass coming over and latching himself to you to make sure that your friendship would last

AKA childe’s plan to make scaramouche realize his feelings and come to terms with it has officially started!

likes to occasionally play video games such as wuthering waves, minecraft, resident evil, silent hill etc etc. hates first person shooter games cuz it’s so not his style and he hates the annoying boys that he comes across during the game

will never say it nor mention it but sometimes he plays those ‘using not a single part of your brain’ type of games like playing as dentists or doctors. hell, he even likes to play dress up games from time to time. he just loves the aesthetics and the different designs of the clothes, itches that inner aesthetic lover part of him. but he will NEVER mention it or be caught playing it. scaramouche would rather die

something tells me that his music taste would be more leaning into electronic or scene music. odetari, 6arelyhuman, kets4eki — you name it. sometimes, enjoys those gentle and soothing sounding anime openings too

he has sanrio plushies. more specifically, hello kitty ones

had an obsession with the cute white cat growing up and he never grew out of it

the moment he first found out that you like plushies or pink things or sanrio related things, he knew he gotta gift you anonymous sanrio gifts on your birthday or on special occasions. it was his early stages of courting you

was absolutely appalled when he was found out because whaddaYA MEAN HE LIKES SOFT AND THOSE STUPID PLUSHIES AND SANRIO RELATED THINGS?! NUH-UH, YOU MUST’VE SAW A DIFFERENT PURPLE HAIRED, BOWL HAIRCUT HAVING GUY CUZ SCARAMOUCHE WOULD NEVER LIKE THOSE STUPID THINGS!!!

he aint fooling anyone

takes his relationship slow since he has some big trust issues yet also attachment issues. pick a struggle tbh

had a panic attack after he officially, finally, after years of crushing on you, like literally acting like your boyfriend years later when he asked you out on a date because woohoo!! he asked you for a date \(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/ but also shit, what type of a first date would you like ლಠ益ಠ)ლლಠ益ಠ)ლ

yeah, he had to do something he hated the most. ask his moms and sister for advice

after a lot of talk, discussions, secretly stalking your social profiles or you in general to see what you would like, scaramouche decided to take you out for an arcade date

you two had fun, he was glad you had fun, played bunch of different games together and even managed to win a cute matching plushies and keychains!! kuromi for him and melody for you. he was so glad that you liked it but he won’t say it out loud

walked you home after your first date, to your front door and bid you good night and “hope you had fun tonight, idiot” chu!! on your cheek before making a mad dash back home

the type of boyfriend who would lovingly bully you

“why the fuck are you wearing that? it’s making your stupid face look cuter than normal”

“who in their right mind would choose the green one? yellow looks better on you. no, the soft pastel one, not the bright one you idiot”

“you wanna die? who said i was ever gonna stop loving you after you turn into a roach? i’m gonna keep you in a special glass case until you change back dumbass”

yeah… just say you love them already, scara

your contact name on his phone is literally my idiot٩(╬ʘ益ʘ╬)۶

would lovingly call you names as he leaves soft kisses on your face

“you’re a fucking idiot but it’s fine, you’re my idiot”

462 notes · View notes

fishnets-fingers · 1 year

Text

Forbidden Hours

“Sounds like someone’s projecting,” he says, voice laced with honey.

“I’m not projecting anything.”

“Sounds like what you’re saying is that you’re jealous that I have the confidence to partake in intercourse and you’re a bumbling virgin-“

“I’ve read all of the volumes of the Kamasutra. I know my way around when I need to engage in coitus for reproduction,” she cuts him off.

“Oh, sweet sweet Princess,” he whispers, using her title condescendingly. “Sex is more than just reproduction.” He strides towards her.

PAIRING - spy!harry x princess!y/n

a/n - happy first day of 2023! this is my first time writing historical fiction. it’s loosely inspired by a movie, particularly this scene. it’s not historically accurate in the slightest. you can read more about the chola dynasty here. don’t know how many parts this would have but i’m hoping to write more of these two’s dynamic. if you have any ideas, let me know. as always, like and reblog. feed back is not only appreciated but much welcome. happy reading!

Word Count - 4.2k (not proofread)

MASTERPOST | PART TWO

….

நிழல். Shadow. That was his nickname among the royal heirs. He was quiet, swift, inconspicuous, and nimble - camouflaging himself in vast rooms and gathering intel. There wasn’t a room in the kingdom he couldn’t weasel himself in; whether that be up on the roof, scaling walls, or hidden in the dark - where candle lights don’t flicker.

Growing up as the son of a British sea merchant, Harry learned that there wasn’t much for a young boy to do in the cramped quarters of the ship. He’d lost his mother the moment he took his first breath. There wasn’t a lot of maternal warmth in his life but that wasn’t to say that he wasn’t loved. He was loved in a different way, his father kept him close during the wuthering nights at sea often pointing out constellations in the night sky to remind him that life had far more in store for him than the fervent passing waves of the sea. But he was also a man that did not believe in making mistakes, so whenever Harry got in trouble, he was asked to scrub the deck floor clean until his hands bled. He learnt his way around a sword from the crewmen. Travelling to different ports of the world also meant learning different forms of combat and gathering information from people of different cultures. Stewing in a ship with ten men for months meant no entertainment, so he began sifting for stories and used their weakness and strengths against them to gain favours.

He docked on Chozhamandalam when he was twenty and was greeted with a red swallowtail flag with a pouncing tiger on it. He grew to love the people of Kaveripattinam - the bustle of the markets, the chortle of the children running about, the welcoming people, and the way art was particularly celebrated in this small port town, and the princess he set his sights on his third day of being docked there. He’s heard of royalty. Lots of royalty. Cruel rulers. Compassionate rulers. Ostentatious rulers. Modest rulers. Heard. But he’s never seen one in the flesh. Until that day.

A crowd gathered near the temple, murmurs of visiting royals spread like wildfire, and when he’d caught wind of it, he couldn’t resist. Ten soldiers walked first clearing the path, two on horses and sheathed swords followed, then came ten men bearing the weight of a palanquin. It wasn’t an ordinary palanquin, this particular one was grandiose, shimmering in gold and stained glass but the insides were draped in silk to obstruct the view of the onlookers. The Queen Mother exited first, greeting the townspeople and that’s when Harry saw her - the Princess Regnant, the one third in line to the throne. He found himself unable to tear his eyes away from the way her lips curled up in an inviting smile. Harry has seen many a sight in his life but none would compare to the way the royal blue silk saree draped around her body made her skin shimmer; it reminded him of how the first light of the sun would glint and glimmer on the steady ocean water. Her eyes were dark, like the deepest part of the sea where light does not enter. She was adorned in gold, hair piled up into a tall bun that was decorated with jasmine flowers. Their temple visit was brief, the Princess joined her grandmother thanking people for their well wishes before being escorted into the temple premises. It was her eighteenth birthday, so a feast was prepared for everyone in town. As the crowd dissipated to head to the town hall for the royal lunch, Harry lingered wanting to catch sight of the Princess again. He managed to climb a peepal tree that towered over the south entrance of the temple. He saw her again, only this time being told off by the guard as she tried to reach over to pluck a blooming lotus from the temple pond. She huffed in response settling down on the step, so the water lapped at her feet, guiding a tadpole trapped in a water bubble on the lotus pad back into the water.

Three years later, he’d made himself a name in the kingdom. His path stumbled with the Crown Prince a month after arriving. He soon became his confidant, even earning a spot in his army. The Crown Prince, Vikram, was a skilled warrior often going off on conquests under the King’s orders to further expand the country. The youngest Prince, Karthi, was sent to the island of Lanka to study apothecary and healing. And the middle heir, Princess Y/N, was known for her wisdom and strategic wit. She often presided in important meetings with the King and his counsel and implemented many strategies that helped triple the wealth of the dynasty and the well-being of the people. The first battle Harry rode alongside the Crown Prince, he was tasked with bringing home a note sent by the prince to his father detailing his plans on the war spoils to the King. Harry was entrusted with carrying secrets and messages to royalty and trusted members of the Crown. His knack of gathering information also came in handy and now was a spy for the royal heirs three years later.

Soon enough the nickname Shadow was bestowed upon him by Prince Karthi. There wasn’t a single room he couldn’t get into - even the castle. But the tower he was currently scaling was one he never had before - Princess Y/N’s chamber. It was forbidden to talk to her without supervision but in the dark of the night, he supposed it did not matter. His job description came with breaking rules and this particular information needed for her to be in the know sans protocols.

He hitched his leg up over the stone bannister and lurched his torso up to the terrace. Princess Y/N’s tower was away from the main dome of the royal vacation castle and he chalked it up for safety but now standing at her balcony, he understands why. The view was unbelievable - the vast expanse of the ocean was at his feet, calm waters painted silver with the full moon; it also overlooked her personal garden filled with coral jasmine, hibiscus, marigolds, and wildflowers. The ocean breeze carried over the fragrance of the flora straight to her room. It was well known that the princess was an avid gardener; he heard through the grapevine that oftentimes she’d sketch out the garden’s landscape plans and sometimes even join the workers to tend to the flower beds. Princes who came to court her from neighbouring territories would almost always bring a sapling of a flowering plant to gain affection.

One could get used to the view, he thinks, as he leans against the bannister one more time - the sounds of tides crashing over the shore soothe his nerves from his climb up. Being born with the golden spoon ain’t that bad. If the burden of duty came with such lavish living quarters, someone sign me the fuck up, Harry takes in the scenery before him before pushing off from it. His body instinctively makes his way to her, like a moth being drawn to a frame, or in this case a spy being drawn to the lavish canopy bed bathed in the buttery glow of candlelight. He stops in his tracks for the second time by the sight of her, not by the opulent beauty that she radiated when he first laid eyes on her but with fondness.

It’s not the Princess Regnant who’s fast asleep on her bed but Y/N. The same Y/N who bristles every time he’s in the room with her siblings. The same Y/N who straightens up her back and holds her chin up high when he cracks a joke to try and force a smile on her face.The same Y/N who looks away when he catches her eyeing him up as he hands over the sealed scroll sent by one of her brothers. It’s almost as if Harry is seeing her for the first time without any filters - except for the sheer white netted fabric that hangs around. She looks small without all the jewellery and silks. Hair raven and straight and long - longer than what he had anticipated - now that her hair has not been pinned up in a bun or bushed away from her face with intricate braids. She looks vulnerable - almost her age - a twenty one year old with a bare face that is not made up immaculately. She has dark circles under her eyes, and Harry deduces that it’s from reading all the books she has strewn over - opened - beside her on the satin sheets. Her lips are curled downwards; she frowns in her sleep and Harry has to try and fight the urge to reach over and smooth out the crinkle between her eyebrows.

He clears his throat, hoping she’ll wake up before he ends up touching her and landing himself in prison. She twitches in response, her steady deep breaths interrupted by a sharp inhale. He clears his throat again, louder this time, followed by, “Your royal highness.”

Y/N’s eyes flutter open, and she jolts up when she sees a tall figure standing beside her. “Who?” She asks, voice hoarse, eyes darting up over his broad chest.

“It’s me, Princess Y/N,” Harry answers.

“Mr. Styles.” Hand coming over to rub the sleep from her eye. “What are you doing here? In my chamber? You’re not allowed,” she states.

“I apologise, your majesty. I’ve been riding for five hours, ma’am. From the estate in the hills. Couldn’t risk having someone overhearing this for the sake of protocol,” he explains.

“So, was I right?” Y/N questions, shuffling out of her bed. Harry moves behind so she has the space to stand upright. “Are the governors convening?”

She gets no reply, making her flit her eyes up at his jade embers to find him staring at her body. Harry could make out the full curves of her breasts and hips with the flimsy white gown Y/N was wearing. Her nipples pebbled from the cold winds from the sea and peaks out the cotton fabric. She rolls her eyes, and snaps her fingers in front of his face to catch his attention. “I could have your eyes gouged out this instant, Harry Edward Styles! There are guards on the other side of this door.”

“Apologies, Princ-“

“You’re full of apologies tonight, aren’t you?” Y/N folds her arms, shielding her chest from his gaze.

“Sorry, Prin-“

Y/N laughs. “It’s far too late for formalities, Mr. Styles. Plus, they only apply to people who follow protocols and walk in through there,” she cocks her head to the carved wooden door. Considering you broke into my room by climbing my balcony, I reckon you can give it a rest. Call me Y/N.”

“Yes,” Harry nods. “Y/N,” he adds. Testing out the way her name rolls out of his mouth. He can’t help the way his dimples carve in his cheeks as the corner of his lips tug upward. I like it, he decides. He likes the way saying her name feels on his tongue, it’s rich and velvety and he wants to keep saying it again and again. “Please call me Harry.”

“Harry, tell me what you saw. Don’t leave out any details,” she orders, walking over to her desk.

Fucking shit, Harry shakes his head. How was he supposed to concentrate when the candles she was lighting only made the silhouette of her body more prominent. She could clearly see the swell of her bum and he’ll bet his entire fortune that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath other than that flimsy gown. He shamelessly lets his eyes rake up over her and his heart flutters when he meets her expenatant eyes, quill hovering over a parchment, urging him to vomit out what he knows.

“Yes. The Hill estate,” he clears his throat. “You’re right. Five governors held a secret meeting at midnight at the Bull temple. You know, the one that was destroyed last monsoon by a landslide.”

Y/N scoffs and lets out a chuckle of disbelief. “Of course, they pick the most obvious spot. Were you able to get a good look at who these governors are?”

“Yes. Do you want me to list them out?”

“Please,” she says, writing down each of the names that Harry listed. He walks closer to where she was hunched over, writing. Harry’s not surprised to see the elegance in her script.

“Impressive. Nice handwriting,” he comments.

“Hardly something to be impressed by, Harry.”

“Well, Y/N, it’s better than mine.”

“If you had tutors from all over the world, I’m sure your script will look just as impressive,” she adds.

“Of course.” He nods. “The meeting. The governors are unhappy with the decree to build schools using the tax money they’re collecting.”

“Of course they are,” she mumbles. “They’re all for taxes when they can use it to fatten themselves up but ask them to spend it on the children of their districts, they are suddenly unhappy with the new system implemented.”

“That’s not all.” Harry opens a silver box and pops a date into his mouth.

“Help yourself,” Y/N comments, shaking her head at his lack of etiquette. Harry’s face flushes with pink and he can feel the tips of his ears getting hot.

“It’s a long journey back here,” he tells her, avoiding her eyes in embarrassment and on cue his stomach rumbles.

Y/N eyes soften. “There are fruits in the basket. And here.” She walks over pulling out a glass jar filled with jujubes from the drawer by her bedside and brings it over to him.

“You have gummies in your drawer,” he notes, smirking at the half eaten jar of sugar coated coloured candy.

“I have a bit of a sweet tooth,” she tells him with a shy smile. He props himself on the table and she makes her way to her desk, watching him eat.

“Harry,” she calls out. “You said that’s not all,” she prompts.

“Your Uncle was there,” he tells her quietly, not wanting anyone to hear.

“My Uncle?” She asks, alarmed. “Can’t be.”

“I saw him, Y/N. He came in shrouded in a black cloak. He’s sired an offspring he said. Claimed that his son had a right to the throne. That’s as much as what was said before they dispersed.”

“You’re positive?”

“Are you implying that I’m being dishonest?”

“I’m not implying anything,” Y/N snaps. “I just want you to be sure.”

“I saw him with my own two eyes, Y/N. I was taken aback too. Both Princes speak of him fondly.”

“Seems like there’s a conspiracy afoot,” Y/N says, almost to herself.

“I’ll let Prince Vikaram know immediately,” he informs.

“Don’t. He’s hot headed. God knows he’ll come charging to the capital and stick a knife in my Uncle’s throat. I’ll take care of it myself.”

“What are you going to do?”

“That’s below your pay grade, spy. I’ll handle this myself. I’m heading to the capital tomorrow for a meeting with my father and the court. How long would it take for you to sail to Lanka alone?”

“Almost a week,” Harry answers.

“Okay. I want you to set sail to Lanka five days from now. I’ll have a scroll delivered to you at noon by the docks. Hand it over to Karthi. Father will want him back in the capital. Keep mum about this and you’ll be rewarded handsomely.”

Harry nods. “Don’t want gold coins this time. I want a house. Close to the sea. One with space for a yard.”

“I’ll see to it.”

“Thank you, Y/N. I’ll set sail five days from now to Lanka. It’ll also be nice to pay the old man a visit too.”

“Your father’s there?”

Harry nods.

“How is Merchant Styles? I heard he’s retired” Y/N asks.

“He took to Buddhist teachings. Become a proper monk now,” Harry chuckles.

Y/N laughs, one that’s laced with mockery.

“What’s so funny?” Harry asks, standing up abandoning the food.

“Nothing,” she gets out between peels of laughter, wiping her the tears that threaten to spill.

“With all due respect, Princess. Spit it the fuck out,” he huffs out in annoyance.

“It’s just funny. Your father practises a faith that preaches restraint of the senses as one of its precepts and then there’s you.” She bites down on her bottom lip to stop herself from breaking out into a fit of laughter.

“I don’t quite follow,” he crosses her arms.

“Of course you don’t,” she chuckles, straightening up and tilting her chin up.

“You always do that,” he points out. “Pretend you're better than me. It’s obvious you hate me when I’ve been nothing but friendly.”

“You’re not my friend. You’re Vikram’s friend. And Karthi’s. I don’t know you. And I know for a fact that I’m better than you,” YN's eyebrow raises in arrogance.

“What makes you so sure?” Harry takes a step towards her.

“Because, Harry Styles, you’re the proverbial whore of the town. I don’t go around screwing everything with a pulse,” she smiles arrogantly at him.

“How did you come upon this piece of information?” He asks her.

“News travels fast, especially with handmaidens. So, that’s why it’s funny. Your father practises self-restraint and you are on a mission to contract a venereal disease.”

“Sounds like someone’s projecting,” he says, voice laced with honey.

“I’m not projecting anything.”

“Sounds like what you’re saying is that you’re jealous that I have the confidence to partake in intercourse and you’re a bumbling virgin-“

“I’ve read all of the volumes of the Kamasutra. I know my way around when I need to engage in coitus for reproduction,” she cuts him off.

“Oh, sweet sweet Princess,” he whispers, using her title condescendingly. “Sex is more than just reproduction.” He strides towards her.

“It is. That’s what the textbook says: It's a womanly duty to service the man and bear his children. It’s sacred,” she insists, taking a step back.

“I’m surprised for someone with such progressive morals… Your view on pleasure seems archaic,” he takes a step toward her again.

“Books do not lie, spy. They have the whole truth.” She steps back again, bumping into the edge of her teakwood desk, trapping herself.

“What do your precious books say about the way your body sparkles when you reach a satisfying end?” He goads, taking a final step forward and invading her personal space.

“You are forbidden to come this close to me, Harry.” Y/N reminds him in futility. Feeling his hard chest against her, thighs rubbing up against him, she can feel his hard muscles straining against her and his warmth radiate, crawling its way into her skin.

“Call out to the guards then,” he reminds her, dropping his head down to nose at her temple.

“I will,” her voice is feeble. “You’ll be cut into pieces and thrown in the ocean.”

“I’ll take my chances,” he smirks, as his lips circuit down the shell of her ear. “I don’t see you telling me to stop.” His tongue laves at her lobe, teeth coming to clamp down gently and tug.

Y/N squeaks feeling his action go down straight to her core. “I know how to defend myself.”

“I don’t doubt it for a second.” He stops, pulling back to look at her. “You don’t need to fight me,” his voice rings with sincerity. “Just tell me to stop and I will, Y/N.” He looks at her, searching her face for an answer.

“What else?” She murmurs, after a few moments, looking up into his eyes.

“Hmm?”

“What else? Things that haven’t been mentioned in books,” she clarifies.

His eyes shine with mischief as he simpers, dimples dazzling. “Where do I start, Y/N…” he trails off, fully pressing himself against her chest. God, she’s so responsive, he marvels at the way her chest heaves against his, heart stammering a staccato against his own racing heart. She’s soft and warm and she smells heavenly. His lips find its way to the base of her jaw, dragging up and leaving open mouth kisses on her smooth skin. “When you find someone desirable, you feel the heat pool in your belly and spread like wildfire across every nerve ending of your body.” He kisses her cheek, a hand going to intertwine with hers.

“Have you felt that?” He asks, feeling hot puffs of her breath against his neck. Y/N shakes her head. “It’s not very noble to lie, Princess,” he whispers, lips moving against the column of her throat. “I see the way you fuck me with your eyes.”

“I do not-“ her voice cuts off as Harry suckles on her jugular, feeling her hammering pulse underneath his lips. She lets out a whimper that goes straight to his fattening cock. Y/N’s mouth falls open dragging in breaths of fresh air, her free hand bracing against the desk to hold herself upright. “I do not fuck you with my eyes.”

“Really?” He says popping off, his calloused fingers come to caress the agitated spot. He was careful not to leave a hickey but he loved the way her skin turned a baby pink in response to his ministrations. “I guess I must have imagined all those times you looked me up and down?”

“I guess you did, Harry,” her chest heaves as she tries to maintain composure. It wasn’t right to be doing this with Harry. It wasn’t right to be doing this with anyone outside the sanctity of a marital bed but it’s exhilarating, breaking rules. She’s not sure if it’s Harry or it’s just the thrill of doing something that might get her in trouble with her parents. They trust her. Trusted her enough to let her move out of the capital and to the port town with her grandmother because she wishes to live by the beach. And here she was enjoying herself with a plebian. A foreigner. A spy. She met him when she was eighteen as her brother’s friend and he was handsome. Chocolate brown curls, smatter of freckles on the bridge of his nose, a perfect smile, dimples, and an alluring set of mossy green irises. She’s heard stories and rumours of his sexual escapades and as much as she detested hearing those stories, she detested the fact that she’s been comparing the princes who had come to ask for her hand in marriage to him. But all she could think of was how strong his arm was wrapped around her waist, pulling her even closer to him.

“Stubborn,” he smirks up. “See what you do to me?” He presses his hard cock against her pelvic bone, watching the way her eyes darken as she realises, the sight smirk of hers doesn't go unnoticed by him. “You’ve been driving me insane since the day I saw you on your eighteenth birthday. Went back to my quarters and touched myself to the thought of you,” he confesses. “You’ve been in my dreams ever since.” He cups her cheek, thumb moving back and forth across her lips.

“Are you going to kiss me, Harry?” She asks, looking up at him.

“Have you kissed anyone before?” He questions.

She shakes her head. “My handmaidens have kissed the people who were courting them. They told me how to do it and helped me practise on fruit.”

“That so?” He smiles, lips ghosting her Cupid’s bow. “You know kissing is pretty easy, Y/N,” he declares. “But it’s also powerful” he tells her, lips moving against hers. “‘A kiss may ruin a human life.’”

“Oscar Wilde,” she says, recognising his quote, surprised by his knowledge of poetry. She gets on her toes, pulling her intertwined hand out of Harry’s, and running it down his chest, she can feel the way his muscles ripple underneath the fabric of his shirt. Her chest heaves, belly clenching in anticipation as he lowers tilts his head to the side, noses squished and her mouth opens in anticipation.

He presses his forehead against hers savouring the moment. “And I’m sure that if I start kissing you now, Princess… I might never be able to stop,” he tells her, breathing in her intoxicating sweet floral scent. He concedes by kissing her eyelids and he’s fighting the urge to not run his hands down her body and up her thighs to see if she’s wet for him, but he steps away wanting to be respectful.

Y/N can’t hide the disappointment in her face when backs away from her. His hands come to cup her cheeks, smearing a tender kiss on her forehead. “Never met anyone who has me on a chokehold, Y/N,” he confesses. “I shall bid my goodbye.” He brings her hand to his mouth and kisses her palm, pressing it to his cheek.

“See you Harry,” she smiles. “You’ll be given the scroll at the docks at noon five days from now,” she informs, standing upright; snapping back into the person she was before being pushed up against the desk by Harry.

“Princess Y/N,” he bows, popping a piece of jujube in his mouth before making his way to her balcony. He gives her a salute one last time before climbing down the tower during forbidden hours, like he always does. But this time, he’s rappelling down the side of the stone structure with butterflies in his tummy.

part two

LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK SO FAR!

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles yn #harry styles x you #spy!harry #princess!reader #princess!y/n #one direction #fishnets-fingers #come say hi #please leave tags if you reblog #harry styles angst #forbidden hours

790 notes · View notes

huramuna · 6 months

Text

the calico bastard - chapter 3.

aemond targaryen x strong bastard oc (series) previous part | next part

summary: After his takeover of Harrenhal, Aemond encounters a dreamy-eyed, wistful bastard of House Strong, who piques his interest and changes the course of Westerosi history.

warnings: smut (eventually), angst, canon typical violence, canon typical misogyny, depictions & descriptions of death

wordcount: 3.4k

a/n: alys rivers doesn’t exist in this universe, alysanne takes her place somewhat. a/n 2: this is my first fic, i got the courage to post it -- please be nice n' leave a like if this interests you!

art by me of alysanne • an edit by me of alysanne as a child • aesthetic board

wuthering heights - kate bush • leave me for dead - GAYLE

Alysanne didn’t get much sleep that night, not after what she’d seen— the future and the present.

She paced around her small room until the light trickled from the horizon. Aemond’s harrowing screams echoed in her ears, her chest heaving and falling.

There had only been one time before she had such a violent vision.

It was eight years before— Alysanne was only ten years of age, just an unloved bastard girl of Harrenhal.

Except, she had one who loved her. The only one.

“Pick me up, pick me up!” Alysanne cried gleefully, “Breakthbonthes, pick me up!” she held her arms up, her words whistling through the gap in her baby teeth— she’d yet to lose those last few teeth right at the front, causing an admittedly quite silly lisp.

Ser Harwin Strong— her brother, or half-brother as it may be, had returned to Harrenhal after a long time away.

Her father, too, had returned— but Alysanne could care less, they were indifferent to one another.

But Harwin— Harwin was hers, her brother, the only person to ever treat her like a person, like she wasn’t lesser.

She ran on bare feet out to the gates, jumping and waving her arms as she saw the procession arrive. The little girl would recognize the curly mop and mountainous build of her brother anywhere.

“Ah, my little lilac!” Harwin boomed from atop his horse, spurring the stallion into the gates, “By the Seven, Alysanne, you’ve grown.”

“The maesther says I’m too schmall for my age,” she grumbled, kicking up dirt.

“Ahh, and what does he know, anyhow?” Harwin grinned, dismounting his horse and leaving the reins to the stablehand. “The poor sod can hardly see past those caterpillars of eyebrows atop his head, eh?”

Alysanne giggled, putting her arms up once more, “Please pick me up— wanna be thall… t-tall,” she tried to correct, spitting a bit through her gapped teeth.

Harwin chuckled— it was a rich, soothing sound. His whole body seemed to erupt with the joy he brought as he laughed, like a deep and generous clap of thunder before the skies opened up.

Alysanne felt her heart rattle around in her chest at the noise.

“Let me get this heavy armor off, lilac,” he hummed, “C’mon, tell me about what you’ve been up to.”

Alysanne skipped and hopped alongside Harwin as they walked through the courtyard, where he left his armor at the smith to be polished. She babbled on about the books she read, the birds she saw, and any innocuous thing she could conjure up.

Each thing, no matter how small, boring, or insignificant it may be, Harwin would respond, whether in agreement, asking a question, anything at all— anything to make Alysanne feel special.

“Alright— c’mere, little lilac,” Harwin finally acquiesced, kneeling down slightly.

Alysanne squealed in delight as he ran into his arms— only to be met with darkness.

A cold, withering darkness. Usually, being encapsulated by Harwin was warm— warm and bright, like the sunniest summer day.

But she felt cold— cold like the North was, colder than anything she felt before, like after a flame had been extinguished.

Then, her vision went red— red, orange, yellow, crackling fire— warm, warm, too warm. Hot, hot— it was smoldering, she was screaming, feeling the skin melt from her bones and char into ash— and she wasn’t the only one screaming.

She heard the cries of men— two very familiar to her—

Harwin, Harwin— open the door, open the door, brother, please! She screamed and clawed at the door until it melted before her into glowing lava, sizzling at her feet— and behind it, Harwin— his hand on the knob, no, fused to the knob.

His hand wasn’t attached, snapped off like a charred piece of firewood, his body strewn across the floor. His face peeled from the muscle and sinew, popping and blistering against the heat. His mouth, now just a hole, was twisted into an everlasting scream—

And then she was back. Back to the warmth and brightness of Harwin’s arms. He was shaking her softly, jostling her shoulder as a small crowd was gathered.

“Alysanne,” he murmured frantically, “Alysanne, wake up, my girl.”

Her eyes fluttered open, filled with tears— they rolled down her cheeks. She opened her mouth to speak, but only a whimpering sob came out.

“Shh, don’t speak, it's okay,” he cooed, turning her away from the prying eyes of the crowd, “I’ve got you.”

Ser Harwin Strong and his father, Lord Lyonel Strong, perished that same night in a fire— a supposed accident.

But Alysanne— she had known. She saw it, and had said nothing. She hears Harwin’s ghost muttering to her at times, his warm and gentle voice now saddened by ash and smoke.

She contemplated her life for days, months and years after— she had lost the only family she had— and she could’ve stopped it.

Since then, she relented from touching people or being touched. She never wanted to have that power— she didn’t want to see their deaths, hear their screams and have their ghosts linger in her head for the rest of her life.

Now, after seeing Aemond’s supposed death, she felt a responsibility to change it— not for herself, not for Aemond— but for Harwin. For what she could’ve done, should’ve done.

She wiped an errant tear from her cheek as she dressed for the day. She forwent the corset— damn the thing— and dressed in another kirtle, a paisley color.

Her hands moved deftly as she tied her curly hair up into two braids— nothing like Flora and Beth had done— but it did the job nonetheless.

The rest of the keep wasn’t awake yet— or so she had thought. She walked out in the courtyard barefoot, as usual, and found it odd as she heard another pair of feet crunching gravel near her.

Turning around, she came face to face with Aemond. He looked… exhausted.

His brow perked, “What are you doing up this early?” he asked as he kept walking, a nod of his head in indication that he wished for her to follow.

She let out a sniff, “I’m always awake,” she grumbled, “I need to tend to Banshee.” she trotted alongside Aemond, her short legs having to work double time to keep up with his long legged strides.

“‘Banshee’? I know that Harrenhal has its fair share of ghosts, but I haven’t heard the wail of a banshee yet— and even so, how does one tend to a Banshee?” he prodded, putting on a pair of leather gloves as they walked.

“… Banshee isn’t a ghost,” Alysanne said, a slight tinge of annoyance lacing her voice, “Banshee is my horse.”

They stopped at the stable, which now housed more horses than usual on account of the soldier’s occupation. Alysanne slunk to the last paddock, which was in truth, not in good shape. It had its fair share of bite marks and hoof prints.

Aemond watched as the strange little bastard lady stood on her tippy toes, clicking her tongue and holding out her hand over the top of the stall door.

A rumbling snort was heard before an absolutely monstrous horse head dipped over the door. It had a gray spotted snout and a neatly trimmed forelock and mane.

Alysanne hummed as she undid the lock and led out Banshee. He was a ginormous draught horse, built purely of muscle and power. He had a light gray coat with black dapples— as well as some long feathering near his hooves. He was easily taller than Aemond by a foot.

The gelding let out a snort as he looked at Aemond, then turned his focus back to Alysanne, nuzzling the top of her head, earning a small giggle from her.

Aemond Targaryen, rider of the largest dragon in the world, was slightly aghast at the size of this horse. He exhaled, “That has to be the biggest fucking horse I’ve ever seen,” he said, folding his arms over his chest. He looked back and forth between Alysanne and Banshee, “How do you even get on his back?”

Alysanne looked at Aemond, slightly bewildered, “You ride Vhagar— how do you get on her back?” she countered as she led Banshee out into the courtyard.

Aemond, fascinated by Alysanne and her monster horse, followed, “Well— a fair bit of climbing, and she has some rope rigging around her saddle.”

Alysanne pat Banshee on his neck— at least, as far as she could reach. “Well, think of Banshee as a small Vhagar,” she hummed, “It isn’t graceful, but a fair bit of climbing,” she mimicked his tone, “does the job.”

The prince was slightly amused by this. “Well then— go on,” he pressed, “Let’s see how the bastard fares getting atop her horse.”

Alysanne let out something of a growl or a grumble in annoyance, clicking her tongue after. Banshee lowered himself slightly, to a point where she could snag onto his mane and scramble up his neck, sliding down onto his back. It was hardly graceful, and was comparable to how a bat scrambles upon walls before taking flight.

“No saddle? Reins?” he questioned further.

Alysanne cocked her head, “No?” she snorted, as if it was the silliest question she’d ever heard.

The prince pinched his brow in what seemed to be frustration, “How silly of me— you don’t even wear shoes, of course you’d ride your beast without the proper tack.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything further. She murmured something to Banshee, who let out a whinny and began his walk— it was slow and bumpy, but Alysanne kept her composure.

“Be here when I return, girl,” Aemond said before they got out of earshot, “I’ll have need of you.”

Her brow furrowed. Need of her? For what? And where was he going?

Alysanne and Banshee’s leisurely walk turned into a relaxed trot as they exited the gates of Harrenhal. They were half a mile away from the ancient castle before a thunderous roar was heard, and the rising sun was eclipsed by the gargantuan green beast known as Vhagar.

Alysanne scratched Banshee as he got a bit fidgety as the dragon flew low in the sky, just above the treeline. “S’okay, my sweet boy,” she hummed, wrapping her arms around his neck as far as she could reach, “You won’t die by a dragon— I’ve seen it.”

As Vhagar began to disappear from sight, something clicked in Alysanne’s head. The dragon was riding towards the God’s Eye— which meant Aemond was as well.

It… it felt like too soon— no, the battle couldn’t be today— but she had seen Harwin’s death just hours before it happened…

She spurred Banshee into a full on gallop, pressing low to his back to hold on, “Please, please,” she whimpered, tears already forming in her eyes.

As they approached the shore of the God’s Eye, she looked around, scanning the sky for any sign of the bloodwyrm— or even Vhagar.

She slid off of Banshee’s back, letting him graze as she walked the pebbled beach of the lake. She paced back and forth until it was high noon, the sun rising in the sky to its apex.

A few more hours passed until late afternoon, the sun beginning its descent back towards the earth. A temporary eclipse of Vhagar returning had Alysanne giving a small breath of relief— until the giant dragon turned, lowering down to find a spot to land.

Banshee strayed near the woodline, as far from the dragon as possible— Alysanne shared his unease, a deep pit settling in her gut.

She ground her teeth as she approached the landing dragon, the powerful flaps of her wings actually causing Alysanne to fall over— which apparently earned a laugh from Aemond— a laugh? When had she heard him actually laugh?

Watching as he gracefully slid from Vhagar’s saddle, not before unstrapping himself (earning Alysanne a breath), she got back to her feet, dusting off her dress.

“I thought I spotted that elephant horse of yours,” he called out, walking towards her.

She shrunk back, “What do you want?”

As he got closer, his expression became more visible. He seemed… lighter. More elated. His hair was swept back from the wind and his mouth was crinkled in a small grin— not that of a predator like usual, but like that of someone who was… joyous?

It was a difference of night and day— his pained anguish the night before, and his almost boyish demeanor now.

It confused Alysanne— she hadn’t accounted for this, such a strong change in emotion from him. It settled the pit in her stomach ever so slightly.

“What do I want?” he repeated with a questioning tone, “Nothing— I merely wished to see if your beast had bucked you off yet.” he stopped a few feet away from her, not getting too close. His arms were behind his back in their usual resting position. It seemed as if he was respecting her boundaries.

“Banshee wouldn’t— not to me, atleast,” she picked up a smooth stone from below her idly, rolling it around in her palm, “He’s a killer, you know.”

“A killer, hm?”

“Mhm,” she hummed, “Stomped in a few men’s heads over the years— ones that tried to ride him, besides me.”

Aemond’s lip curled slightly, “Seems he’s bonded with you as his sole rider, then. Dragons are much the same. They get to choose who they bond with— test their mettle, and find them worthy.”

Alysanne looked towards him as they conversed— they began walking around the shore near each other and she hadn’t even noticed. He still kept his distance, to which she was grateful. “Vhagar finds you worthy,” she commented, “It must be an honor.”

Aemond picked up a rock as well, weighing it in his palm, “It is. It’s the highest honor of any Targaryen’s life— to be chosen by a dragon.”

She stopped at the lapping waves, dipping her feet in the water. With a swift movement of her hand, she sent the stone skidding across the surface. Once, twice, thrice.

A few moments later, Aemond did the same. Once, twice, thrice.

Alysanne gave a lopsided smile at that as she straightened back up. She felt at ease— like a leaf on a cooling breeze. Not only at ease, she felt brave.

Slowly, she lifted her head, taking in the features of Aemond’s face before landing on his eye— which looked right back at her.

She felt a rattling in her chest— like a caged bird flapping and ricocheting against her bones. A strange heat came to her cheeks. “We make up one pair of violet eyes, you and I,” she murmured suddenly, “One lilac between each of us…” she stared at his remaining eye, to which he stared back at her one, paired with the rich, earthy brown of her other eye.

His brow furrowed momentarily, “An interesting observation,” he picked up another rock and skipped it across the waves, “You remind me of someone, you know. My sister— Helaena, her grace, the queen,” he whispered, his voice taking on a softer note, “I feel like you two would have much to talk about.”

“I’ve heard she is fond of insects,” Alysanne answered, walking from the shore to the grass, where she began picking plants from the soil, seemingly with purpose, “I quite like a good moth myself. They liken themselves to have false eyes on their wings, so they do not have to stare down predators.”

Aemond didn’t comment— he just watched her pick plants.

“Herbs,” she said, as if feeling his questioning stare on her back, “For my medicines.”

“I didn’t know you were a maester as well as a bastard,” he said– more likely than not with a smug grin on his face.

“I may be odd in appearance, but you must be blind in both eyes if you think I resemble a smelly, mean old man.” she quipped back.

He didn’t say anything more, just setting his jaw in a hard line. This earned Alysanne a satisfied smile– the bird had silenced the dragon.

In her joyful reverie, she went to pick a bundle of chamomile– but her hand plunged into a bush of stinging nettle. She let out a yelp like an injured animal, pulling her hand back and looking over it.

Apparently, her yelp had caused some concern from Aemond, who rushed over– he broke the boundary they had set, and even more, he reached out to her hand. “Let me see,” he grumbled.

“No, no–,” her cry was cut off as they touched, and her vision went black once more.

It was storming. Thunder rumbled the ancient stronghold– but they were not in Harrenhal. She couldn’t quite fixate where they were, until she heard the tumultuous crashing of waves against chiseled stone. Storm’s End– the seat of power for House Baratheon.

Why was she here– why… Aemond was here as well. He was stanced as usual, his hands behind his back.

Another boy was there, as well– brown, shaggy hair and brown eyes. Harwin? He looked like Harwin– he was turning away from Aemond, walking out.

“Wait,” Aemond called out, “My lord Strong,”

Strong? There were no more Strong Lords– and not a young boy like this. Who… was he? When was this?

“Did you really think you could fly about the realm, trying to steal my brother’s throne; at no cost?”

“I will not fight you– I came as a messenger, not a warrior,” the young boy spoke. Alysanne could see his body language– he was… afraid.

Aemond smirked, “A fight would be little challenge. No,” he said, putting his hand up to his eyepatch, taking off the leather and revealing his sapphire eye underneath, “I want you to put out your eye. It is payment for mine. One will serve,” the prince drew back his coat, throwing a dagger to the floor towards the boy, “I would not blind you. I plan to make a gift of it to my mother.”

The boy shivered, falling into himself inwardly for just a moment– then he took a breath, puffing out his chest, “No.” he declared, staring Aemond down.

“So you are craven, as well as a traitor.” Aemond hummed for a moment, the sound of Lord Baratheon’s cries to stop drowned out from blood pumping in his ears– hers as well.

Alysanne felt his contempt, felt his rage– bubbling, boiling right under the surface, just like the Fourteen Flames of Valyria. The madness in him was palpable, threatening to break his bones and turn him into a beast hewn of scale and wrath and tear this ‘Lord Strong’ apart brick by brick.

She shivered; he truly was fire made flesh, an echo of a warrior long past– a god of War in his own right.

“Give me your eye! Or I will take it, bastard!” Aemond exploded, advancing on the little Lord Strong like a predator–

Then they were in the sky, Aemond chanting taunts atop Vhagar– words that Alysanne didn’t inherently understand, but she felt it– in her bones, rattling around her chest and stomach.

It was a chase– a game of cat and mouse– or dragon and dragon as it may be. But Alysanne knew it was nothing of fairness. What was fair in a dragon of War, named after the Goddess of War, chasing a hatchling just large enough to carry a young boy?

What was fair in that?

What was fair?

In her fairness, in her twisted justice– Vhagar’s massive jaws snapped the smaller dragon into pieces, along with Lord Strong, the remains of his existence scattered into the sea.

The rage of Aemond quelled– quelled into a dull ache. It was replaced by a new feeling, mayhaps one Aemond hadn’t felt before.

Guilt. Remorse.

Kinslayer. Accursed.

What had he done?

Her eyes opened– she wasn’t crying like usual, when she saw death. Usually it was impending death, something that perhaps she had a chance to change– but this… was the past, wasn’t it? Something she never could change, something that had already been lived and gone and was a done deal, sealed with the bow of death. She didn’t feel panicked, no– she felt hollow.

Aemond was holding her up again, cradling her like a delicate flower. He cleared his throat as he stared down at her. “What did you see?” he asked, his voice so quiet it was almost inaudible.

“Kinslayer.” she murmured in response, her voice broken.

#aemond fic #aemond x oc #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #house of the dragon aemond #aemond x fem!reader #prince aemond #aemond one eye #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #aemond fanfic #aemond fandom #my writing #the calico bastard

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kalorphic · 1 year

Note

So, Novaturient is based on Spy…do you know any other IFs that are based on existing shows/movies/books etc? I’m quite new to IFs so any recs would be a great help! Thank you!

IFS INSPIRED BY/BASED ON EXISTING MEDIA:

There’s probably loads that I’m missing lol, but here are the ones that I know of. Unfortunately, a lot of them don’t have demos and/or haven’t updated in a long time (some a really long time), but I put them all in just in case you want to follow and hope for a miraculous reappearance lol.

Once & Future by @kaiwrites-if

Merlin | No Demo

Midnight Delights by @midnightdelights-if

The Morganville Vampires | No Demo

The Kiss of Midnight by @if-kissofmidnight

Predator Franchise | No Demo

Scandal by @nightingale-interactive

Scandal | Demo | MC genderlocked to Female

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes: An Affair of the Heart by @doriana-gray-games

Sherlock Holmes | Demo

Valhalla by @palette-jack

Farscape | Demo

Supernova: Renegade by @jupitergames-if

Mass Effect/Star Trek | Demo

Unmourned by @unmourned

Frankenstein | No Demo

Façade by @altair-interactive-fiction

Jekyll and Hyde | No Demo

Swan Song by @swansong-if

Swan Lake | Demo

Return to Never, Never Land by @never-never-land

Peter Pan | Demo

Hidden World by @hidden-world-if

How To Train Your Dragon | No Demo

A Life Supreme by @lifesupreme-if

Cyberpunk 2077 | Demo

Beyond the Waves by @allthatwrites

Little Mermaid | No Demo

Orenda by @orenda-if

Howl’s Moving Castle | No Demo

Rabbit Hole by @if-rabbithole

Alice in Wonderland | No Demo

Knights of the Eternal by @if-eternalknights

Transformers | No Demo

Sempre by @sempre-if

Castle | No Demo

Elsinore: After Hamlet by @lapinlunaire-games

Hamlet | Completed [Itch.io]

Calamity Control by @calamitycontrol-if

Mass Effect meets The Dragon Prince | Demo

The Spark of Hope by @thesparkofhope

Star Wars | No Demo

The Hymn of Winter by @thehymnofwinter

Game of Thrones | No Demo

Dusk Till Dawn by @dusktilldawn-if

Dracula | No Demo

A Court of Serpents by @acourtofserpents

Folk of the Air Series | Demo

A Dangerous Game by @adangerousgame-if

Killing Eve | No Demo

The One Who Cried Wolf by @bluewritesif

Teen Wolf/Chilling Adventures of Sabrina/Vampire Diaries/Twilight | No Demo

Blood of a Saint by @bloodofasaint-if

Grishaverse | No Demo

Song of Valhalla: Spear of Heaven by @songofvalhalla-if

Percy Jackson & The Olympians | No Demo

Welcome to the Family by @wttf-if

The Addams Family/Kuroshitsuji | No Demo

Mata Aetara IF by @mata-aetara-if

Naruto | No Demo

Maboroshi by @maboroshi-if

Naruto | No Demo

Tales From Roseborough by @roseborough-if

Stardew Valley/Harvest Moon | No Demo

Emberwood by @emberwood-if

X-Men meets Ms. Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children | Demo

Decaying Picture by @decayingpicture

Dorian Gray | No Demo

Slayer by @slayer-if

Buffy the Vampire Slayer | No Demo | MC genderlocked to Female

The Sixth Guardian by @the-sixth-guardian

Rise of the Guardians | No Demo

My Fair Maiden by @my-fair-maiden

Resident Evil: Village | No Demo | MC genderlocked to Female

Prodigal by @prodigal-if

Prodigal Son | No Demo

Hollowmoon Valley by @hollowmoonvalley

Stardew Valley | Demo (being rewritten)

Her Crimson Clutches by @thathexwolf

Vampire: The Masquerade | No Demo

The Unquiet Grave by @ombresart

Wuthering Heights | Demo

The Inseparables by @theinseparables-if

The Three Musketeers | No Demo

Hana no Uta by @hana-no-uta-if

Gintama | No Demo

Dahlia Hills by @dahliahills-if

Gossip Girl/One Tree Hill | No Demo

Apartment 502 by @apt502-if

New Girl/FRIENDS | No Demo

Embers of Hope by @embersofhope-if

Hunger Games | No Demo

The Whisper in the Mist by ME (@ellawrites-if)

Pacific Rim | No Demo

#ask #if recs #ifs inspired by media recs #i refuse to unfollow people jic lol #feel free to add any i’ve missed!

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soulsforsales · 7 months

Text

Professor Steven Grant x Reader

Warning: This is my first fic (Idk if that should be a warning but I am scared lol), fluff, age gap, no use of Y/N, sorry for any grammatical mistakes

Summary: You always had a weak spot for nerds but Steven Grant might just be the man of your dreams.

Pairing: Steven Grant x reader (yes, we do have Marc and Jake in the next chapters!)

Thankyou @ivystoryweaver for your ideas and support <3

Chapter 1

It is a warm Tuesday afternoon in October. You are browsing the books in the "classics" section at the bookstore. Usually, you come to the bookstore on weekends but you've decided to meet a friend this week, so here you are.

Your eyes roam the bookshelf along with your hand in a straight line until you hit something. Someone. You step back, an apology already on your lips until you turn and see the man beside you and suddenly you are at a loss for words. You stare at him.

Normally, if you run into someone at the bookstore you would just turn away and apologize, which happened a lot since you were always lost searching for your book but it wasn't a rom-com movie where anyone you accidentally stumble upon turns out to be your soulmate - but, god, right now you wish it were.

Honestly, you have seen your fair share of good-looking men, but this guy was, you dare say it, gorgeous.

He had a defined, sharp jawline with dark brown eyes, and his hair was a mess of curls. He was wearing baggy clothes but it suited him just fine and a messenger bag slung on his shoulder. 'I'm sorry,' you hear him say and he gives an apologetic smile. O.K. If you thought he was good-looking a moment ago, his smile was absolutely beaming - and it wasn't even a real smile. 'You okay?' He asks, his fingers grazing your forearm for the slightest second, bringing you back to life. He is looking down at you, confused. Really? Could he not see what he was doing to you or did he not know how good-looking he was?

You nod, saying, 'I am fine. Sorry about that.' He waves his hand in front of his face, 'No worries,' he replies with a smile. He looks a bit older than you, thirteen years or some.

You are staring at him again. You can feel yourself getting red. So embarrassing.

'That's a nice book you've got there,' he says, pointing to the book in your hands that was now wrapped around your chest. The blush on your cheeks deepens, he doesn't notice.

"Wuthering Heights, by Emily Bronte" you trace your fingers over the cover of the book.

'Yeah,' you say, pushing the book closer to yourself, 'you too.' Alright, you do not know why you said that, but he was holding a book and it only felt right to return the compliment.

Or maybe you are just really bad when it comes to conversations with someone who's got you fawning.

He shows the book to you, "The Ennead" it reads. Suddenly, you are intrigued. Yes, you work for a textile company but History, especially Egyptian, has always been interesting to you. And before you know it, you are both somehow in a long, elaborated conversation about the Ennead, Egyptian history, and the pyramids.

He knew so much that it left you speechless. You could only admire him as he kept spitting engrossing Egyptian facts as if it were the weather report. He talked animatedly, with his hands moving and his eyes gleaming. His hands, wow, his perfect, sleek hands were totally distracting you from his stories.

He stopped abruptly when his phone rang. He was telling you something about Ammit, the sinister goddess of the Underworld but he had to stop and pick up the call.

He held the phone close to his chest, saying, 'Looks like I'll have to leave.' He looked like he was in a hurry but he glanced at you once more before walking out the place, as if he wanted to say more.

He disappeared soon as if he'd never even been here.

Your heart is beating fast and it feels almost as if, you have never had a conversation like this one before. Maybe it was the person more than the conversation itself.

You didn't even ask for his name, you wince at the realization. You should've totally asked for his name.

Maybe you'll see him again.

For some reason, you are sure you'll see him again.

•------🌙

You are a few feet away from the coffee shop's door when you notice your friend. She's sitting at the table with someone, you can't really see who, and is typing aggressively into her laptop.

Your friend is in the last year of her University, she's a year younger than you. You always knew that University was not your thing but you'd attended it anyway because your parents wanted you to and being exceedingly wealthy, they had proposed to pay your study loans for you.

So now you have a full-time job, a good paycheck, and an apartment of your own without any piles of loans above your head. While your friend, still in Uni was drowning in projects and assignments and you knew she needed to loosen up a bit, hence, the reason you two were meeting today.

You enter the shop with a smile, but it drops the moment you notice who your friend is with. You freeze a few feet away from the table. You couldn't be sure if it was him but the resemblance was there.

Your friend looks up from her laptop, noticing you. She waves at you, grinning, which makes, whoever it is, sitting in front of her turn to you.

You almost trip. He looks even better than the last time you'd seen him. He was still wearing baggy clothes, his hair tousled and curly but it looked purposely done. And he was wearing glasses, red colored glasses perched on the top of his nose. Adorable.

You always had a weak spot for nerds but he might just be the man of your dreams.

Your friend asks you to come over and have a seat and you do. You can tell that he remembers you. He's been staring at you ever since you walked in and you can't breathe. What's happening to you?

Your friend, however, is oblivious, she introduces you to the man, telling him your name and he introduces himself, 'Steven Grant,' he says, shaking your hand clumsily. You nod. His hand, oh god, the handshake sent tingles all over your skin.

'He was just helping me with a few assignments, thank you so much for this,' your friend adds and after telling her that it's no big deal Steven leaves the table to get his order.

You watch him go. Steven Grant. You had met him at the bookstore almost a week ago and yet, you couldn't stop thinking about him. It felt foolish but you'd never, in your life, daydreamed about a guy the way you'd daydreamed about Steven Grant.

'Stop drooling,' your friend says interrupting your rail of thoughts. A blush spreads on your cheeks. You aren't drooling... are you?

'How do you know him?' You ask her

Your friend grins, 'he's my history professor.'

Your jaw drops, 'he's a professor?' You repeat, placing your hands on your chest dramatically, 'he's like everything I've ever wanted.'

She chuckles, 'You should ask him out. He's exactly your type and I am sure he's single.'

Your eyes turn to Steven who's now getting his coffee, 'how's he still single?'

'Because he's the most awkward person you'll ever meet and the only friend he has is a goldfish named 'Gus', it is one-finned or something. He loves talking about it,' your friend tells

You smile to yourself but your heart's hammering against your chest and you know you'd never have the courage to ask him out.

'I could never,' you say, biting your lower lip. Before your friend can reply Steven comes back with a flask that the barista had filled for him.

Your friend smirks as she closes her laptop and leaves the table the next moment. You silently beg her to stay but it's too late.

Steven looks at you and you can't stop blushing. You are praying that your complexion doesn't give it away. 'Correct me if I'm wrong,' he speaks sweetly, 'but... have we met before?'

Your cheeks redden, 'yeah,' you say, 'Yes actually, at the bookstore... that day, I - I had no idea that you were, would be - what a coincidence, right?' You give yourself an imaginary facepalm. Someone must remind you how to form a coherent sentence again.

'You're at University too?' He asks

You shake your head, 'Oh no, not anymore.'

Steven smiles in reply and you two fall into an awkward silence. You want to say something - you know you should say something but he hasn't stopped smiling since you arrived and you can't think straight when he's looking at you with those deep, soft, brown eyes.

Maybe you should ask him something about his job - anything would be better than staring at him like an idiot.

You open your mouth to speak but Steven cuts you off, 'that day when we met,' he says, taking his glasses off, 'I wanted to ask you something, actually...' he pauses to take a good look at your face, you can swear you are as red as a tomato by now. 'I was wondering if - if you would want to - maybe - uh, have dinner with me sometime? I was just thinking if...' You don't hear the rest of the sentence. Your breath hitches in your throat. Was he asking you out? Was Steven Grant, the man you had been reeling after - asking you out on a date? This felt unreal.

'I'm sorry,' his voice reaches your ear, interrupting your thoughts, 'I think I might be reading too much into it. I understand if you're not interested.'

Your eyes visibly widen at his words. It wasn't that at all.

'No.' You almost yell, 'I - I am interested. I want to, I mean. I would love to go on a date with you.' You are smiling hard and you can feel the butterflies rummaging in your stomach. 'If - if that's what you are implying.' You add.

This is bad.

Steven lets out a small laugh, his cheeks turning pink, 'Yes. Yes, th - that's what I meant.'

You grin, not because you want to but because you can't help it. He's so nice and so absolutely beautiful.

Steven fiddles with his sleeves nervously, saying, 'Well, there's this really nice restaurant down the street. They have all kinds of food options. I - I was thinking maybe we could, you know, check it out.'

You nod, still smiling. Still feeling the butterflies in your stomach. He looked ten times better when he smiled.

'Yeah,' you say, 'yeah, sounds great.'

'I'll see you tomorrow then? If - if that's okay with you. I get off work at 5'

'Tomorrow's good.'

'Yeah?' He's smiling with his eyes now, crinkles appearing around them and oh, you could just die.

Steven's expression softens as he starts to get up, 'I am terribly sorry, love,' he says, with a weak smile, 'I would really like to stay but I have to leave now - I have a meeting at work. I could, uh, text you the details, though?'

You tell him that it's alright and exchange phone numbers.

'See you tomorrow, then?' He asks, sliding his messenger bag down his shoulder, his curls toss as he fixes the strap and you fight the urge to push your fingers through them. You really wanted to.

'It's a date then,' you say, biting your lower lip. It was hard to contain your giddiness.

'I'll call you.' He says, passing you a little smile before finally walking out the shop.

Oh my god. It happened! You are going out on a date with Steven Grant. You are acting like a teenager getting asked out for the first time but you're too happy to care. You are happy - excited even - for a date, you haven't felt this like this in a long time.

Your friend finally comes back to the table, holding a sandwich in one hand and a coffee cup in another.

'You were ages.' You say, adding Steven's phone number into your contacts

'Was I?' Your friend replies, slurping her drink, 'well, the barista was super cute - not really my fault, besides, what were you chatting with Mr. Grant about?'

You smile. Your cheeks hurt from smiling now but you can't help it, 'I am going on a date.' You tell her, 'With your professor.'

Tagging: @wittyjasontodd (I didn't know if you'd wanted to be tagged since this is not DC related but here it is!), @fandxmslxt69 (bcs I was inspired by your math professor lol >.<)

Anyone who wants to be tagged, just lmk!

#fic #fic writing #moon knight #moon knight fic #steven grant #steven grant x reader #professor steven grant #steven grant x you #i did it y'all

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asmolfolk · 1 month

Note

Hi S. Can I request hc for Hades (RoR) and fem s/o? S/o is having a bad day and Hades comforts her intimately? 18+ and fluff please. Have a good day/night!

After a long time, guess who is back again? I finally finish my studies and I'm just chilling right now. So, as I'm in a Hazbin Hotel, HSR, Wuthering Waves and ZZZ brainrot And, I'm trying to get back at my feet for writing - if this isn't good is because of that :< (Also if any of you noticed that I didn't put dialogues with the S/O, it's mostly for her to also represent people with disabilities that makes them rely on sign language and everything <3) Also! If anyone is interested in Hazbin Hotel AU's, I have an > alternative Account < for drawings [what will include my au's <3] and also, I will probably start posting some X reader and long fanfics in my AO3 account. Also, I post some arts in my Twitter <3 Click on the pink text to go to the links <3 —— —͙ – -✰ Fandom: Record of Ragnarok / Shuumatsu no ValkyrieCharacters: Hades. Warnings: Smut! —— —͙ – -✰

Hades x S/O: Feelings.

Hades is a simple man: The world could BURN and he wouldn't bait an eye, he doesn't care about humans, about other gods - except for his beloved, Persephone and his Brother. You and Persephone are the only ones who would make Hades go against his brother, against everything he worked so hard to maintain. Hades has no limitation when the topic were the two of you. Even if he wasn't in a romantic relationship with Persephone, this would be the same. You, bless your soul, already knew about his completely devotion - First of all, he never tried to hide it. Anubis, Thanatos and other gods associated with death noticed his demanour since the beginning. [And Thanatos is oblivious as fish swimming in the sea.] Not only that, but also: Loki RUINED your outfit, Hermes had to get you to the underworld - you were so close to breaking down in front of Loki...

This whole event was too much for you, especially because Hermes wouldn't let you interact with him. You had to go to Hades's room and already saw him, he was just with his pant while he seemed to be a bit... Tired, but, he just needed to look at you to have a smile.

"My beloved... What a pleasure seeing you" He looked at you and got closer, taking your hand after seeing the ruined outfit and the dirt, he was immediately pissed "What happened? Who did this to you?"

You couldn't bring yourself to answer him properly, your words were left to nothing as you sobbed, the gibberish you were saying didn't make him understand what was happening, but he knew that you needed a hug... And a bath.

"Come on, my beautiful wife... Let's take a bath"

Hades would spend his whole time just bathing you, hearing you spill your heart to him, telling him about everything that has gone wrong... And he would tell you how amazing you were, how strong you were and to praise you as you continued your story. Only when you were finished telling him everything, he would start to clean you up, he would dare to pick a cloth for you, he would just carry you - again - to his room and lay you down to the bed.

"My wife... Would you like me to sing you praises?" He always said that before going at you... And, as anyone would say. You just nodded. He was imediately, holding your thighs, letting space for him to be in between them "If you want to stop, just say 'Stop', okay? I wouldn't want to overwhelm you." He was always sweet, he always putted your own pleasure as his top priority... He didn't care if he didn't have a shot, if he didn't touch himself... He could be satisfied with just making you feel pleasure.

He started as always, kissing your clit as one of his hand started to do circles through your entrance until he started to push his fingers in and out, he was relief at hearing your moans and pleads to be faster. He just gave anything that you asked him, he started sucking your clit as his fingers started to get faster. As a reflect, you imprisioned his face against your thighs, you felt like you could suffocate him - until you remembered that gods don't need to breath. Hades didn't even cared with how much your legs trembled as he guided you to a much deserved orgasm.

He drinked it, drinked and licked anything left. He - as always smiling and looking at you with pride and love - would just take of his gloves and touch your face. "Do you feel better, my love?" After losing your senses for a second or so, you could only rely on your lips reading to tell him Yes. He would lay at your side, holding your waist and softly caressing your cheeks. "You can sleep if you want to, my beloved wife... I will wait for you."

The day was too much for you... But at least, you would sleep peacefully with your husband at your side, hugging you as if you were close to disapear.

—— —͙ – -✰ The next posts will be: OC x Reader, ROR x Reader and Hazbin Hotel x Reader. Stay tunned <3 [Hazbin Hotel will include Oc's, but they are just there for plot - Since it will be a long fic.]

#x reader #reader insert #fem reader #x female reader #female reader #hades ror #record of ragnarok headcanons #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok smut #x reader smut #smut #ror smut #hades smut #hades ror x reader #hades ror smut

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thosehallowedhalls · 1 month

Text

A Special Gift

Book: Crimes of Passion

Pairing: M!Trystan Thorne x Emily Rose (F!MC)

Rating: Teen

Word count: 682

Summary: Emily's birthday is a difficult time, so Trystan takes it upon himself to cheer her up.

A/N: For @moominofthevalley. Happiest of birthdays! I hope this new year brings you nothing but joy. You're a bright light in this fandom, and I hope you know how appreciated you are. (Also, may I just say, you have amazing taste in books.)

Emily sits hunched over at the counter, her head buried in her arms. The din of The Drunk Tank echoes around her, its comforting familiarity a welcome embrace during what is invariably one of the worst days of her year.

Her birthday.

Everyone always thinks that Emily doesn’t like her birthday because she doesn’t like the fuss. While true, that’s only part of the story. The bigger part, the one that lies under lock and key in the deepest, most secret confines of her heart, is that she can’t bear to think that she continues to get older, meet milestone after milestone, and her dad isn’t there to witness any part of it.

I miss you, she thinks, her gaze falling on the framed badge and gun hanging in a place of honor behind the counter.

“You miss him,” a voice says behind her.

Emily doesn’t start. She already knew Trystan was there. She sensed him the moment he stepped foot into the bar. “I do.”

“That’s to be expected. But don’t you think he would want you to enjoy your birthday?”

“Why? The only difference my birthday makes is the exact number I use to fill out paperwork.”

“Emily.”

She blows out a breath. “Yeah, he would want me to enjoy my birthday.”

“Why don’t we steal, I mean, borrow a bottle of Tommy’s best wine and head out to the roof? I have something I’d like to give you.”

“You know I don’t like to celebrate my birthday.”

“We won’t be celebrating. We’ll be sitting and drinking, and we can be completely quiet if you want. But I hold firm on the present. Everyone should get a present on their birthday.”

She smiles in spite of herself. “You make it difficult to stay here and brood.”

“Then mission accomplished. Come on, my love.” He holds out a hand. She takes it almost automatically. “Let me try to make your birthday bearable?”

As they climb up the stairs, Emily remembers the first time they did so together. A wave of love and gratitude washes over her.

No matter what happened in the past, she thinks, she has so much to be grateful for.

Once on the roof, Trystan asks her to uncork the wine. Grudgingly, she does so before turning around to give him his glass. “There. Why you decided I had to do any physical labor on this day, I don’t…”

Her mouth snaps shut when she sees the package he’s holding out. “Well, I’m sorry, but I had to distract you somehow.”

“Sneaky,” she says admiringly. “Is it a book?”

“You only have to unwrap it to find out.”

She does, more eagerly than she cares to admit. She finds herself smiling when she takes out the delicate tissue paper surrounding what is definitely a book. But her smile falters when she sees the title. “Wuthering Heights?” Her voice shakes on the words.

“My dear detective, did you really think I wouldn’t remember your favorite book? Or why it's so important to you? I know you already have a few copies, but…”

“No, no.” She hugs the book to her chest. “It’s perfect. I didn’t have this edition.”

“I should imagine not. It’s a hundred years old.”

“It is?”

“I tried to find a first edition, but I couldn’t quite swing it on short notice. But I imagined you would appreciate an older copy of this particular book.”

She just stares at him. “Don’t let this go to your head, but you really are the perfect man.”

“Naturally.”

Emily’s next words come so quickly that she doesn’t realize what she means to ask until she has. “Do you want me to read it to you?”

Trystan freezes. They both know who Emily always read Wuthering Heights with. “You would share that me?”

“I would.”

“Then by all means.”

He sits on the couch, and Emily promptly follows, her legs on his lap. She clears her throat and begins: “1801—I have just returned from a visit to my landlord—the solitary neighbour that I shall be troubled with.”

#trystan x mc #trystan x emily #trystan thorne #emily rose #crimes of passion #playchoices #30 drabbles in 30 days

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almonds-nsfw-world · 24 days

Text

1 Month Anniversary!!

1 month anniversary for this blog!! And 450+ followers! Thank you all so much for your wonderful comments, reblogs and likes! I never would've expected my blog to grow so quickly!

I'm not too sure how to celebrate this yet, but I'm working on a smutty oneshot for wuthering waves.

But I'm really eager to start doing art commissions, and I need to start writing more about the men of genshin and wuthering waves since I think I wrote about all the adult male characters in Honkai

I don't have a writing schedule, I mainly just post a oneshot everyday, either in the afternoon or late evening...I don't think I'll make a schedule as I don't want this to feel like a job to be honest

But thank you for your support! It means a lot to me

And stay tuned for my next oneshot coming out today!

-with love, almond

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ave09 · 10 months

Note

Oh may I please request a cute fic of sweet fem!Reader just running into Harrison Ford in a bookstore and they enjoy each other’s company and go out on a date?

this is a lil short and i apologize but it’s still kinda cute!

books

harrison ford x reader

a groan slipped past your lips, “are you kidding me?” the one book that you’d been searching for for over an hour ended up being on the tallest goddamn shelf. you sighed deeply, walking towards the rolling ladder, you carefully climbed up, slowly moving the ladder towards where you needed to go.

“excuse me, miss? do you need help?” you furrowed your brows, reaching for the book you wanted. you shook your head, “i’m okay!” you replied, trying to figure out where you knew that familiar voice from.

“are you sure?” once you had the book in hand, you nodded, carefully beginning your descent down the ladder, only to find that halfway down, your foot slipped, causing you to tumble down. and just as you were about to hit the floor, a pair of muscular arms caught you.

you gasped at the impact, “you alright there, sweetheart?” slowly you nodded, turning around so you could face your savior, “yes, thank you-“

oh my god.

standing before you was harrison fucking ford.

the harrison ford. han solo. indiana jones. you did your best to keep your composure, “thank you, mr. ford.” the man sent you a small

smile, retracting his arms from around you once he saw that you were steady on the ground, “please, i don’t need the formalities.”

“my apologies-“

he waved you off, “no, you’re fine.” his hazel eyes then fell upon the book on the floor that had been knocked out of your hand during the fall. he bent down, retrieving it, “wuthering heights? heathcliff and cathy? it’s a wonderful read.” he said, passing it to you. you smiled in response, “i read it back in the tenth grade, god, that was so long ago, and i’ve been wanting to read it since.”

“it’s a good one that’s for sure.” the two of you then delve into a deep conversation about other books, it was very delightful. harrison was such a kind man, not that you thought any different before hand.

there was most definitely a spark. both you and harrison felt it. so it didn’t come as much of a surprise when he asked, “hey, do you wanna get lunch?”

a soft smile spread across your lips, “like a date?” you asked. he shrugged, “if you’d like it to be.” you couldn’t help but grin, “well then, i’d love to go on a date with you, harrison.”

#harrison ford #harrison ford x reader #harrison ford movies #indiana jones #han solo #young harrison ford #indiana jones x reader #star wars #han solo x reader

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why-what-no · 2 years

Text

Dating Bella Swan Would Include

Pairing: Bella Swan x Reader

Warnings: Wuthering Heights. God, why did I make this so long.

Notes: Yes, I’m outing myself as a Twilight fan and a Bella simp, fight me. I could treat her right. (And no, I don’t support a lot of what SMeyer wrote in those books).

When you first heard of Bella Swan, you didn’t really care. She was more of a conversation topic for the guys or the school gossips.

Even when she first arrived, snatched up by Jessica and her friends, you didn’t care at first.

She was just some classmate

Sure, she was cute. But definitely the shy type, clearly uncomfortable with the level of awe she was receiving from the guys in your classes.

You guys first spoke a few days after she arrived. She was in the parking lot, leaning against her car. A book in her hand with a title you recognized.

“Wuthering Heights, huh?” You tilted your head to get a better look at the book title.

She was surprised for a second, not used to people asking her about books. People asking her about anything she liked, actually. “Um, yeah, have you read it?”

“Yep.”

Bella sat up a bit. “Oh, what did you think?”

“Meh.” You shrugged, being honest. “Not great. Everyone kinda sucks. It’s cool that you like it though.”

“But that’s the point.” You were a little caught off guard by her sudden investment in your conversation of your dislike of the book. But also glad to see her animated about something. “The best thing about them is their love.”

“Obsession isn’t love.”

“It’s not obsession.” The pretty brunette argued, mildly stuttering-ly. “Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” The halfway triumphant face Bella made when she quoted the book was kind of cute if you were honest.

You chuckled. “Fair enough, I’ll give that book one thing, it had a few good quotes. Although I prefer that heaven quote, personally. You know… I said his heaven would be only half alive; and he said mine would be drunk: I said I’d fall asleep in his; and he said he couldn’t breathe in mine”

You grinned at her, waving goodbye as the bell rang.

Bella just stared after you. Other people in Forks were interested in her, but none except you actually talked to her about things she liked. Even if you didn’t like them as well.

She started to pay attention to you the next day, curiosity about Edward Cullen being replaced by curiosity about you.

Fighting through her anxiety, she approached you in the library the next day.

“What do you think of Jane Austin?” Bella immediate winced at her bluntness as you turned to her in suprise.

But, thankfully, you didn’t comment on that. “Umm, I only got halfway through Sense & Sensibility. So I can’t really say.”

She was a little crestfallen. “You didn’t like that one either?”

“No, I liked it. But I got really busy, and it was a library book. So I had to hand it in before it got due.

“Oh.” Bella had no idea why she was relieved that you liked that book. “You can borrow mine, if you want? I can… drop it off at your place. Tomorrow, maybe?”

While you didn’t quite know why she cared so much about it, you agreed. It was the weekend, and your parents were busy. So there was no problem about Bella stopping by.

Well, no problems except the rain. But for some reason she turned up anyway.

“You could have stayed home. I would’ve understood.” You chuckled helping her out of her jacket.

“I know.” She gratefully took the towel you handed her, giving you the book she had been hiding from the rain under her jacket. “I just… It’s a bit of rain.”

You knew she was lying, it was obvious from the way she looked outside that she wasn’t happy about the storm. You supposed there wasn’t much rain in Arizona. “Okay, well. How about you hang out here until the weather gets a bit better. I can turn on the movie?”

“The movie?”

“You know.” You held up her copy of Sense & Sensibility, obviously meaning that.

“Oh… sure.” She blushed a little. “Can I just call my dad first? Let him know I’m at a friend’s place?”

When Bella returned from the phone, the two of you curled up on the couch. Her eyes were focused on the movie, giving you a chance to look at her properly.

The two of you got much closer after that. When Cullen returned to bio class from wherever he had been, he saw that Bella had already moved to a back table with you

That family moved away soon after that, not telling anyone about it. You weren’t surprised, they had always been weirdos.

When you finally admitted your feeling for her, it was definitely awkward. And for a long moment, you were sure that she didn’t feel the same.

But to your relief, she did. She kissed you gently, like she was afraid of hurting you. Or of you disappearing on her.

So many things in her life were uncertain, with Bella always being the one to make other people lives easier.

But she didn’t have to do that with you.

Most dates included movie nights are your house, cuddling under a blanket.

You’d listen to her talk about the books and songs she liked, just like she would do for you. Bella usually wasn’t comfortable with questions and attention. But she liked knowing you were interested in what she had to say.

Charlie took it pretty well when Bella told him, as you had already been around their house a lot. He was a little surprised, but already liked you. He knew you cared about his daughter.

She normally liked to avoid school dances and stuff, but if you wanted to do it she would go just for you. Letting you pick her outfit, watching you dance with your friends while looking all nice.

When it came to Jacob, he was a little defensive around you at first. Still having a crush on Bella.

And at one point you had to shut that down, telling him that if he really cared about her he would grow up and let them just be friends.

He accepted your relationship after that, becoming your friend as well. In fact, once he got over Bella and found a girlfriend of his own, you four would do double dates sometimes.

You and Bella were a steady couple. You knew she had a hard time letting people look after her or letting herself be happy. But you reassured her that you were on her side.

She was so grateful that you had spoken to her all those months ago.

You guys planned your future. Neither of you wanted to get married too early, letting things happen naturally. But you guys went to Arizona for university, with Bella wanting to be an English teacher

Her mother loved you, just like her dad did. Both of them seeing how much happier Bella was now that you two were together.

Your future apartment was cozy. Filled with her books, maybe a pet, and all of your love for each other.

#twilight #twilight headcanons #twilight x reader #bella swan x reader #Bella swan #Bella swan Headcanons #twilight bella #twilight bella x reader #my fics #my headcanons

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