#lots of self-indulgent nonsense
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@purlturtle replied to your post:
If I may, could you tell me more about Ghost Helena/Myka and Bering/Wells Myka figures out she's bi ?
Heh, you picked two of the rather bare-bones snippets. I'm pretty sure I came up with these when I was still a fandom baby and was mostly just remixing ideas from other people.
Ghost Helena/Myka
This one is... seriously just the vaguest of outlines. Probably to some degree subconsciously inspired by @tantedrago's Transient. Oh, and 2020 quarantine.
Myka has never believed in fate, or ghosts. She's not that kind of superstitious. But it was certainly serendipitous that she closed the deal on this place only weeks before the pandemic lockdown orders hit. It means she has plenty of time and opportunity to get settled in.
The boarded-off alcove in the attic is certainly strange, especially when she finds someone had sealed several leather-bound first editions and a pristinely preserved antique writing desk inside. The previous owners insist they know nothing, and anything in the house is hers. Moving it down to her newly-christened home office will have to wait, but she's drawn to that piece and its little alcove nonetheless.
Then the notes start appearing...
Myka has some company for quarantine of the noncorporeal kind. Helena has some issues that need working through, among them the death of Christina and her last several unfinished manuscripts. But, as Myka helps her with these, unknotting Helena's remaining entanglements and tying up loose ends, Helena might be forming another tether to this mortal plane.
Bering/Wells Myka figures out she's bi
Because Myka being utterly obliviously bi/pan (because heteronormativity) until H.G. is an idea I can't seem to shake.
An artifact reveals the the sexuality of everyone surrounding the bearer, including that of the bearer themself. The Warehouse team is in for a few surprises.
Inspired by vestwearer’s (@wibblywobblyida's) artifact idea in all we need is a rhythm to dare.
“Pete…” Myka looked down at herself, then back at him, curling her fingers around the pin button she'd just picked up. “Why do I look like I'm standing in front of a projector image of a finger painting?”
#bering and wells#purlturtle#rinari responds#rinari writes fic#wibblywobblyida#tantedrago#yeah these are obviously inspired by other people#i feel a little weird about it and maybe that's why i didn't really take them much of anywhere#quarantine fic ideas#heteronormativity#lots of self-indulgent nonsense#the ghost one would definitely become a longfic if i tried to actually do much with it :p
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Heatwave, H E A T W A V E
Eight letters
Number 8, please :D
Heatwave is not small.
Sure, he might be a little out of the average size class for fire trucks, but that’s negligible! He wasn’t even the shortest of his friend group back in Kaon!
But apparently his size is an anomaly in Iacon, because it’s all anyone can seem to focus on.
He's never been insecure about his size before, he's never had a reason to- but the nicknames are getting to him.
Heatwave is at most maybe half a foot shorter than the second shortest mech in their class, but it's all "Hey, Half-Pint!" "What's up, Runt?" "Shortstack" "Little Guy"-
He is this close to killing someone.
“I have an assistant today who’s joining me from the Autobot Fire Force today,” their usual instructor, Rex, announces. He’s a grizzled old mech who has been nothing but the bane of Heatwave’s existence this entire class.
It’s just Firefighter One, and the damn mech runs it like a fucking boot camp.
The other mechs in the class elbow each other and start whispering. He gets some looks from some of the mechs he's friendly with, the kind you exchange when you know the instructor is going to partner you up.
“Now, I expect all of you to treat Quint with the same respect you treat me,” Rex is saying when Heatwaves tunes back in. "He has graciously offered to spend his day off with you worms, so I will not tolerate any disrespect." He glares pointedly at a pair of giggling mechs, who quickly shut up.
"Alright, at attention!" Everyone's spinal strut snaps straight, and Rex looks over the line of mechs. "Alright, everyone's par, okay." He taps away at his comm a little bit, and a silhouette appears in the doorway.
The first thing Heatwave notices is that the mech has to duck through the doorway. Then he stands to his full height, and holy shit.
He's definitely a size class or two above the average for firetrucks, standing maybe five or six feet taller than the tallest mech in the class. His shoulders alone must be twice the width of Heatwave's!
And then he notices the second pair of arms, tucked neatly against the mech's chassis. Four arms!
The mech appraises them with yellow optics narrowed, mouth set in a small frown. Finials flick from where they're pressed against his helm, and when his shoulders shift, the ladder on his back squeaks slightly.
There’s an odd, dark weld over his upper lip and little spots all over his face- and somehow he simultaneously looks like the oldest and youngest mech Heatwave’s ever seen.
“You got anything to say before we start, Quint?” Rex talks like they’re familiar, like they’re friends, but Quint gives him a detached look.
“It ain’t your Primus-given right to be a firefighter,” Quint starts, and damn, that’s a Kaonite accent if Heatwave’s ever heard one. His accent is unusually thick, like he learned Common the old fashioned way instead of just getting a universal translator installed. “You might all be firetrucks, but you ain’t all cut out for this. So don’t expect me to coddle you.”
“Well said,” Rex says with a solemn nod, and Quint side eyes him. After a suffocatingly awkward moment, Rex claps his hands. "Alright. Truck ops with me, engine ops with Quint. My guys, we're running search evolutions until you can do them blindfolded without killing each other. Engine ops, you're stretching until you drop. Alright, break!"
Quint's gaze immediately lands on Heatwave as he shuffles to join the rest of the engines. Heatwave glares right back, shoulders hiking up to his audials.
"Hey, Runt." Heatwave bristles, whirling on Quint with fangs bared.
"Don't call me that," he snaps, but Quint looks unfazed. The rest of the engines are almost at the training tower, but Quint has hung back specifically to talk to Heatwave. Probably about how it's not my Primus-given right to be a firefighter, he thinks bitterly. Fuck off with all that.
"Do you speak Kaonite?" Quint asks, in Kaonite.
Oh, uh. Not what I was expecting.
Heatwave optics go wide, then narrow. "...Yeah," he says slowly in his native tongue, quashing the thrill of hearing it from his own voice again after so long.
Quint brightens significantly, his finials flicking up happily. He gestures for them to walk. "Your accent ain't strong, but it's there. Universal translator?"
"Yeah. I assume you aren't using one?" This feels weird. He's not quite sure why. Quint's lower two arms have uncrossed and are now swinging at his sides, while the top to gesture as he speaks. Heatwave sidesteps to avoid the swinging ones hitting him.
"Nah, learned the old fashioned way," Quint hums. "But that ain't what I'm here to ask you. Why're you so small?"
Heatwave bristles defensively. "I can't control how small I am, okay? It doesn't matter at all, I'm good at what I do-"
"I ain't sayin' you're bad at this, Runt," Quint interrupts, ignoring Heatwave's angry growl at the nickname. "I'm sayin' you should be bigger."
"What?" Heatwave's tanks suddenly cramp, sending a sharp pain through his tcog. He rapidly tamps down his panic. No, not here, fuck, shit-
"You're like, squashed," Quint continues, making gestures with all four of his hands now. "Like you got more mass than your frame knows what to do with."
Heatwave's tanks cramp again. "Are you calling me fat?" he accuses.
Quint rolls his optics. "No. Forget I said anythin'." He points to the training tower. "Now get over there. You're goin' in first."
Fair enough. Heatwave transforms his smoke mask over his face and gets into position next to his fellow firefighters as Quint begins to shout directions in heavily accented Common again.
His size doesn't matter.
Heatwave tries to forget the interaction.
#this is purely self indulgent nonsense#I wanted to add quint into smoke and mirrors okay sue me#there will be a lot of background or minor ocs#considering how young the rescue bots are most of our well-known canon characters are less likely to be their peers and more likely#to be their teachers#which you will see!!!#I have a lot of plans for this portion of the au very fun stuff#but if you look at heatwave's design before scanning the firetruck on earth he doesn't have a ladder#so: truck rigs are equipped with ladders for rescue purposes (moving a victim down a ladder) or bailouts#but the rigs themselves are equipped with magnets and inset climbing equipement to be able to get themselves in and out quickly#as their main functions are search rescue and ventilation#I'll probably go over this more in another one. lots of thoughts lol#anyways heatwave really should be seeing a pattern#maccadam#transformers#transformers rescue bots#academy s&m ask game#<- little bit of a longer tag but it'll work#woosh answers#thanks for the ask!!#smoke and mirrors au#tfrb heatwave#tf quint#tf ocs#transformers ocs
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I love playing with gifs ouo
#i'm so happy with pony artic's design#she's slowly evolved over the years since 2019 when i first started pony town#they didn't even have swimming back then if i remember right!#and the map was a lot smaller#the game really has grown a lot ouo#i made this outfit when the library first came out and i love it so much it's just her default outfit now :D#silly self-indulgent tag#buttermilk daydreams#f/o#self ship#my nonsense
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oh my god the 'fanfiction isn't books' post is on my dash again...I just think it's so funny how people act like this is such a cut and dry argument when content matter, format, quality, length, editing, medium, style, originality, production value, etc. obsfucates the designation of 'book' so thoroughly as to make the argument nearly meaningless. there is nothing you could say about fanfic as a category that can't also apply to some kind of book. a lot more things fit into that category than you might think, and it kind of doesn't mean they have any inherent superiority in format
#self published books...short stories....literal fanfiction of public domain media...webnovels....poorly edited novels....#genuinely really bad books#no I would never argue a fanfic is an original novel bc I think it's silly#but there are so many exceptions. yeah a lot of them seem like semantics or quibbling#but like. is eragon (self published) not a book? is longbourn (technically fanfiction) not? is mdzs (webnovel) not? obviously#those are absurd questions#there's gray areas that arise when you talk abt this stuff!#and I'm willing to argue that there's some fanfic with legitimate writing value that shouldn't be dismissed just bc it's free/from amateurs#that original book I just read was slightly less entertaining than the fanfic by the same author. worse plot#not that I don't think ppl should try to read more like....quality books. that aren't twitters threads or fanfic#like more...traditional books I guess?#it IS good for you it's an excercise for you brain it's rewarding#but you can read books all your life and if it's just self-indulgent nonsense like that's fine I like that too but you won't reap the rewar#of broadening your horizons like that#cor.txt
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the relationship between the mutuals and me is much akin to pavlov and his dogs
#bonito furikake is soooo good..#on my mind constantly#also im super busy until the 17th orz.. gotta make a few oil paintings#im thinking after all that i might make a separate sideblog. for my personal posts#ill still post here as well but the other one will be more spam-ish.#100% self indulgent nonsense posts. flop after flop#i do that here too but a lot of the time i feel pressured. when I do. or guilty for making people look at me#normal guy#the main text of this post is a draft from long ago even i dont exactly understand the symbolism#shion.txt
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The link for your geologic structures of hyrule essay is either broken or I’m stupid but I REALLY want to read it thank you
hi first of all thank you so much
here's a link again just in case. I had it locked so guests couldn't access it because there have been issues with ai scraping and spam bots and the like, but I went ahead and unlocked it
I hope you enjoy it :)
#astor age of calamity#I hate having to lock my fics but I actually did get a LOT of spam comments on some of my bigger fics#but like this one is openly wildly self indulgent and also what is ai gonna do with my geology headcanons yknow#anyway hi I'm so glad you want to read my rock nonsense
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[good company - short-short hh fic.]
As slimy, weird, and uncomfortable as it is, Cat still found herself melting into Maison's couch, embracing his suffocating warmth. His soft organs pressed against her skin is oddly comforting to her, but maybe it's because she has grown so used to it by now. Or maybe it is because she has no real point of reference of what is actually a proper home.
But "home is where the heart is," as the saying goes, which both Maison and Cat found rather funny. A silly pun that can never be more true.
#blah blah blabbity blah#short fic#im sleep deprived#and i have a lot on my mind.#so this is just some slight self indulgent nonsense i written for myself.#teehee~.
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JUNO , spencer reid
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pairing boyfriend!spencer x fem!reader
synopsis while babysitting henry for jj, spencer’s seeming disinterest with children starts to shift. this makes your mind wonder into unfamiliar territory you and spencer hadn’t spoken of yet: kids.
genre talks of pregnancy and children (duh), very suggestive towards the end but no smut, this is very self indulgent since i can’t get this song or spencer off my mind so here you go lol.
wc 2k?? (i got a little carried away)
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“sorry for this being so last minute!" jj scrambled, passing henry over to you along with his diaper bag. the blonde ran a hand through her short hair, adjusting from where the two-year-old played with it upon their arrival.
“it’s all good, seriously. you know how much i love babysitting this cute thing.” you tickled henry’s side, making him squirm.
jj’s eyes averted to the figure behind you, pursing her lips. “you sure he’s okay with this?” you turned your head, noticing spencer trying to look at the two of you without being noticed.
it’s not that spencer didn’t like kids; it’s just hard to know how to talk to them when you were a child genius.
you turned back to jj, attempting to ease her worry. “he’ll come around to it.” you shrugged, knowing that spencer would either sit and observe or fully engage. no in between.
after bidding your goodbyes, you walked over to spencer, taking a seat beside him on the couch. “so what should we do, little man?” you perched henry in your lap, resting your feet on the coffee table so he could sit against your perched thighs.
spencer looked at you as if he were the “little man” in question. henry just babbled, throwing his arms around as you cooed. “what do we do with him?” spencer asked, leaning closer into your shoulder to inspect the baby in your lap.
you laughed at his seriousness, turning to look at your boyfriend. “have you never been around a baby in your life or something?” you teased, lifting henry so he was closer to you both.
“did you know that babies are born with about seventy reflexes? that’s why when you place a baby on a surface to stand, they automatically start doing a stepping motion.” he spoke, watching henry kick his legs as you stood him on your lap. you looked over at him quizzically. “for someone who’s so awkward around babies, you sure do know a lot about them.”
spencer flushed slightly, “i just haven’t had the chance to be around any until now.” he nudges your shoulder before crossing his arms.
“well, here’s your chance.” you held henry out to spencer, which made him squirm and mumble yet again. “hold him while i go bring his bag in here.”
he hesitated, looking between you and the baby as if this were a test. yet, despite the nervousness, he reached out, mimicking your position earlier. when you were content with how henry laid on spencer’s legs, you walked out of the room.
you’d be lying if you said you didn’t purposely take your time collecting his things, wanting spencer to have some alone time with henry. finally satisfied with your departure, you peaked your head into the room, nearly melting at the sight.
the once stiff and nervous spencer you had left with henry was now replaced with a content, smiling one. his voice went up a few pitches as he responded to henry’s nonsense. “oh wow, really?” his lips were pulled into a smile as he played with him, letting henry’s small hand encase his slender fingers.
you couldn’t help but let your head wander; how could you not? sure you thought about a future with spencer. a future where you were married and maybe with kids, but you had never brought it up being too nervous to scare spencer off.
but now watching him light up with henry in his lap, you wanted nothing more than for your daydreams to become reality.
“someone wants you back in here, i think.” you snapped out of your daze, focusing on the two sets of eyes staring at you. both holding the same smiles and wide eyes.
god, you swore you felt your ovaries jump.
“i see that you two are getting along now.” you placed henry’s diaper bag on the table, sitting yourself on the ground before laying out his blanket and a few toys. spencer joined you, placing henry on his stomach, then laid beside you, mirroring the baby’s position.
“who are you and what did you do with my boyfriend?” you laughed, in awe of how much spencer had adjusted to the small being in just a matter of minutes.
he looked up at you as he shook a little plushie in front of henry’s face. “sorry to disappoint, but this is still your boyfriend,” spencer quipped before you pushed his head jokingly, messing up his hair in the process.
the sound of high-pitched squeals took both of your attentions away from one another. there henry lay, clapping his hands in favor of you and spencer’s playful fighting.
“yeah, you like when i show him who’s boss, huh?” you caressed the soft skin of henry’s cheek, making him giggle. spencer sighed, “come on, man, i thought we were really becoming friends” he exasperated, laying his head in his hands dramatically.
this only brought more squeals from the baby, making your cheeks almost grow sore from how hard you were smiling.
“awe spence, it’s okay.” you egged on your act by petting his hair back into place. this caused your boyfriend to lift his head; a big pout on his lips made yours perk up.
with your attention being taken away from henry by spencer’s rare expression, you hadn’t noticed the stuffed animal caught between the baby’s hands. before you could do anything, the small bear was chucked into spencer’s face, causing an uproar of noises from henry.
“i’m starting to question this whole babysitting thing.” spencer winced, looking at you as you laughed along with henry.
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despite the teasing from earlier, spencer continued to be enamored with henry. him even insisting he help feed and change him when time came.
the whole ordeal feeling so domestic, apart of you wished jj could have spent a couple more days for her and will in favor of you seeing spencer like this for longer.
“thank you, again for taking care of him.” jj propped her hip against the counter as she fumbled for her phone out of her purse.
“of course, it really was no problem.” you turned at the sound of spencer’s soft voice, thanking henry for “helping” him clean.
“honestly, i think someone enjoyed this a bit more than we thought.” you gestured at spencer as he settled henry on his hip, the baby grasping onto his button-up shirt.
your whole body ran hot at sight. spencer looked really good as a pretend dad.
“no kidding, the team is going to flip when i show them the pictures you took of them.” she glanced at her phone, noting the off-guard photos you stole of spencer and henry.
one was of him feeding him as he walked around the living room, another of him explaining some of the books organized on his shelves in a very formal fashion despite henry’s lack of knowledge, and finally one of them eye-to-eye playing on the floor with various toys.
your heart swelled looking back at them, the questions you had been so careful not to ask begging to be verbalized.
before you could sink any further, spencer came over, handing jj henry and his bag almost reluctantly. noticing the time, jj was quick to leave in order to keep the baby’s sleeping schedule on track but thanked you guys repeatedly before finally closing the door.
clicking the lock shut, you mentally prepared yourself for the words about to come out of your mouth.
“you had more fun than you bargained for, didn’t you?” you met spencer on the couch, him reaching out to pull your legs over his, making your heart leap.
“i did, actually.” spencer began smoothing his hands up and down your calf before continuing. “honestly when you mentioned henry coming over, i was a little- i don’t know scared? i just didn’t want to disappoint him or you.” he bit his lip like he was stopping himself from letting the whole truth out.
“oh spence, you were perfect. honestly, i’m very proud of you.” you reached out, caressing the side of his face, causing him to look at you.
he noticed your wondering eyes, waiting for you to continue. “actually i um…” you shifted pulling your legs under yourself so you could sit up.
breathing in deeply, you continued, “today kind of got me thinking about us and our future.” spencer was looking at you with such admiration that you had fixed your gaze on your hands.
“i know we haven’t really brought it up before, but seeing you and henry today had me-“
before you could finish, spencer’s lips were pressed against yours, resulting in a shocked gasp from you. he kissed you, mumbling words each time his lips parted to take yours in again.
“i want that, i really do.” he breathed, finally separating from you for just a moment.
“you want what, spence?” you were in shock, to be honest, knowing what he meant but wanting to hear him say it word for word.
without another word, he positioned you in his lap, legs straddling his own. “i want a family with you. i want a sliver of what we had today to become ours one day.” his eyes didn’t break from yours, his pupils blown wide and sparkly.
for the thousandth time that day, you had to bite back a smile. “you mean that?” you questioned, one hand coming to comb through his hair and the other resting on his neck.
he kissed your cheek, forehead, nose, and finally your lips before he spoke. “every single one. i mean, one of you is cute.” he cupped your cheek as he spoke. “but two though? that’s something.” he finished, smirking at you.
you couldn’t contain your happiness, crashing his lips to yours again feverishly. even though you knew the both of you were in no place to have a kid now, there was no harm in playing with the fantasy for now.
even if the real thing wouldn’t come to be for a good few years.
spencer pulled you flush against him, one his hands leaving your hips to trail up your spine and settle onto the back of your neck. a moan slipped past your lips as goosebumps erupted on your skin.
you pulled on his shirt, hinting at where this was going as if it weren’t obvious to the man beneath you. he looked up at you, kissing you once more before dragging you to your shared bed.
your blouse and shorts were off before your back hit the sheets, spencer still standing ahead of you unbuttoning his work shirt.
you sat up on your knees, crawling to the edge of the bed to take over. after each undone button, you kissed his skin, making him gasp as his fingers raked through your hair.
pulling his shirt all the way off, you made your way to his pants, pulling him closer by his belt loop. you bit your lip, noticing the gears turning in his head.
“you know statistics say missionary or doggy are the best positions to get pregnant in.” spencer let out in shallow breaths as his belt clinked on the floor.
“oh, yeah and why is that genius?” you leaned back on your elbows while spencer finished removing himself of his pants. he took you in, the tiny pink bow on your underwear made spencer rethink his crude response.
“deeper penetration,” he said almost too smoothly, making you laugh. it was hard to take statistics seriously when you were both nearly naked.
before he could settle above you, you shimmied up the bed. ridding yourself of the rest of your clothes, you positioned yourself on your hands. looking over your shoulder, you saw the way spencer’s eyes widened in shock.
“have you ever tried this one?”
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my first spencer fic omg. lowk crazy because i’ve been obsessed with this man since the ripe age of 12 but here we are. will probably be writing a lot more of him since im rewatching cm at the moment so stay tuned! request box is always open <333
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fic#spencer reid x fem!reader#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction
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A Good Girl's Reputation | Aemond Targaryen
Modern!Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader
Summary: It was the last place you wanted to be but nonetheless, you found yourself pulled along to a party you hosted by none other than the Targaryen's, only for spilled wine to force you into Aemond's shirt. A sight that had him dragging you to his bed, eager to corrupt the well-behaved girl who had set him ablaze with desire.
Word Count: 6.7k.
Warnings: MDNI 18+ only!! Oral (f receiving), unprotected P in V sex, dirty talk!!, a major cliche on the good girl trope, reader is shy!, slight degradation, mean friends at a party maybe?, Aegon being sneaky, bad language. Unedited. Please let me know if I missed anything!
Author's Note: Okay, I wasn't going to post this one because it was purely self-indulgent and I kinda wasn't happy with my pen game in this but I was feeling bad about the delay in Dark Cherry part 5 so wanted to share something!! I also love the idea of Aemond being totally feral about seeing reader in his clothes. Share your thoughts my loves, I'm more than happy to discuss things, thoughts and feedback with you all - xoxo, kisses!! <3
There was a nonsensical grandeur about everything that Jilly dragged you into. This time was no different and you silently waited for the sound of the elevator ding while listening to your best friend chatter about the ‘world’s best fucking boyfriend–wait, do you think this makes him my boyfriend?’
“I don’t know, Jilly,” you nibbled on your lip, craning your neck to look around the corner of the entrance hallway. For what reason, you weren’t sure but there was a crawling nervousness on your skin and the urge to make sure there were no unexpected surprises was consuming. “It’s Aegon. Only he can answer that question for you.”
The elevator was taking an infuriatingly long time. You wondered if this was the building’s way of telling you to turn around and return to the dorm room that had become your safe haven over the last two years. Jilly had somehow gotten herself involved with none other than Aegon Targaryen, a man notorious for his partying and hedonism.
It was entertaining at first, and you were more than happy to remain a spectator of the ridiculous pairing. Jilly was entirely different to Aegon and tended to carry herself with a lot more modesty than Aegon was known for. She was calculating and calm where he was impulsive and excitable.
You thought back to the first time they had met. In a tutorial for a statistics class you needed to take to meet course requirements, the three of you paired together to facilitate a useless discussion on probabilities. The bickering between the two of them was amusing and the first greeting that Aegon had graced the two of you with was a grumbled ‘what kind of name is Jilly?’
And weeks later, Aegon had decided to hold another one of his campus-famous house parties. He had obviously invited Jilly–and by extension he had invited you because there was no chance Jilly would go to a party without you. In fact, before she had met Aegon, there was no chance Jilly would go to any party regardless.
A loud, excited hmph! fell from Jilly’s lips when the elevator doors finally opened. You had hoped it had broken down on its way to pick you up and that there was a rather convenient lack of staircase to climb instead.
“I don’t think–”
“Don’t say it,” Jilly held a hand in front of your face. She clicked on P with her other hand. For the penthouse, you guessed. “I know you don’t want to be here. But we are going to have a good night.”
You sighed, tugging the short, black skirt that Jilly had wrestled you into further down your thighs. It looked good paired with the white satin button down you had insisted on wearing for comfort but it was shorter than you were accustomed to. The thought of maintaining it enough so it didn’t ride up past your bum was tiresome but there was no arguing which you could do to wiggle your way into some pants instead.
Jilly snickered. “Quit fiddling with your skirt, you’ll poke a hole in your tights–Oh!”
The two of you shared a gasp when the doors opened. No wonder people had so much to say about the Targaryen siblings and their parties when their apartment looked like it was straight out of a Forbes magazine. For a moment, it seemed impossible that the apartment housed two students. It was incomparable to the wardrobe sized dorm you had been living in over the semester.
Distant chatter pulled you out of your thoughts and you followed Jilly further into the apartment, reminding yourself not to let your jaw drop as your eyes adjusted to the dimmed lighting. The party was an hour or so away from starting - Aegon had told everyone to head in after seven but had given Jilly an earlier time so that the two of you could join their pre-game.
Not that you would. The prospect of getting as drunk as Aegon planned at your (embarrassingly?) first student party was daunting.
Anxiously, you followed Jilly into the living area where a handful of familiar faces were lounging and drinking. There was a deep bumping of bass, and you could feel the floor vibrating with it, but you couldn’t make out the song that was playing.
“Jill!” Floris, Aegon’s friend who you had only ever seen on campus, pulled Jilly towards the nearest couch. Hesitantly, you followed, flashing Aegon and Cregan a purse-lipped smile as they made their way to greet you. “We were worried you wouldn’t show up. Is this your friend?”
With a smile, you introduced yourself. Floris only grinned at you before returning her attention to Jilly, who had started up an animated conversation with Helaena. Aegon whistled at Jilly, tipping the neck of his beer in her direction as if to say hello, and threw his other arm around your shoulder.
He laughed when you cringed, pulling back from him slightly. Aegon smelled like a mixture of beer, red wine and sandalwood cologne. “We placed bets on whether you’d show up. Glad you did. There’s multiple motherfuckers in here who owe me a silver stag each. Not that I need it.”
You spluttered a bit. “What-”
“Relax,” Cregan teased you from the other side of Aegon. He was clearly drunk. “You’re clearly not much of a party girl but that changes two-” he held up two fingers and then aggressively pointed them down at the floor with a jerk. “-night.”
Aegon laughed, handing you a glass of wine which suddenly appeared in his hand. You shook your head and he shrugged, downing it himself. He turned away from you, waving someone down. “Aemond!”
Oh gods, no.
You tried to keep your smile on your face. Aemond fucking Targaryen was leaning against a counter, a beer loosely hanging between his fingers. He was in the middle of a conversation with Criston Cole, a friend of their family who you had heard of only through mindless campus gossip. Aemond glanced toward Aegon in response, an eyebrow raised lazily.
If there were ever a man you had crushed on, it really had to be him. It was a little bit maddening because you were exactly like your peers in thinking Aemond may be the most attractive man you’d ever see in your lifetime. He was tall, had an air of darkness and mystery to him and his silver hair framed his defined cheekbones and sharp jawline perfectly. But it was the severity in everything about him that had caught your eye–right from the first lecture you had seen him in.
Aemond, as you understood, had no idea who you were. And while you knew exactly who he was, it wasn’t odd. Everyone knew of him and his family. He had practically been birthed into the public eye.
“This pretty thing here,” Aegon, much to your protest, had pulled you across the room to introduce you. “Jilly’s best friend. Much like you, dear brother, she hates parties and is not here by her own will. You’d get along.”
Aemond looked at you and you suddenly had no idea what to do with yourself. You met his eye, fiddling with the hem of your skirt and waiting for whatever this moment was to end quickly. Your skin was tingling under his gaze which dropped from your head to your feet and then back to your face.
When he didn’t say anything, you offered him a tight lipped smile and a timid wave. “Hi?”
He was going to respond. You could see it in the way he had moved but Aegon was quick to cut him off, ever the loud mouthed brat. As subtle as Aegon believed himself to be, he was an incredibly obnoxious drunk.
“Surely,” Aegon drawled, wrapping his arms around Jilly’s waist when she appeared by your side and pulling her into him tightly. Mockingly, he targeted his question at Jilly but switched his gaze between her and Aemond. “Your little-good-girl friend could use a bit of corrupting, Jills. Seems like Aemond would be entirely capable, from what Floris has–”
“That’s enough, Aegon,” Aemond’s voice was smooth and darker than you’d expected. He gave you a small, reassuring yet tight smile. “Don’t be an ass. Let her be.”
You were a little breathless. Sure, you didn’t quite let go of yourself as much as everyone else did but you were no prude. Right?
There was no offence intended in Aegon’s teasing but you couldn’t help but feel the sting. He was right–you were relatively good. All of your time and effort went into studying and working. Where you weren’t doing either of those, you preferred the solitude of a good book at a quiet cafe. There were very few bad habits in your life, the worst of which would only be the likes of a dependence on tea or coffee. Parties were a rarity but on the odd occasion you would tag along wherever Jilly would go. And, regardless of that, here you were.
It was embarrassing. You had hoped that if you were to ever introduce yourself to Aemond, things would go slightly better than this and your uptight prudish reputation (which you didn’t realise you had until today) would remain undiscussed. He was different and he didn’t tend to spend his time with people of your tendencies. Aemond was the object of everyone’s desires; if they didn’t want to have him then they certainly wanted to be him.
You were clearly different from his normal type. If only for the fact that he also had a reputation and that reputation consisted of a string of heartbroken girls who he had never pursued or never shared more than his bed with. Those girls were a lot more like his friends; confident, daring and well accomplished. Aemond was not Aegon; there was a lot more respect in the way people spoke of him and his academic and professional talents were impressive to most people.
Thankfully, Jilly had pulled you away from that dreadful conversation with a harsh glare pointed at Aegon. The kitchen, which was the closest place for you to hide, was filled with snacks and drinks almost falling off of the countertops. You recognised Helaena, and waved at her.
Helaena had been a friend whenever you had bumped into each other. She was sweet and kind and you actually enjoyed her company. “It’s nice to see you, Helaena. Didn’t think we’d ever run into each other at a house party but hey, it’s been an hour full of surprises.”
She laughed with you. There was an easy flow of conversation between the two of you and when Floris and Jilly had taken to what they called ‘Kitchen Karaoke’, you had even danced together. Jilly, as drunk as she was, pushed the bottle of wine in her hand to you, waiting for you to drink. With some encouragement from Helaena and Floris, you smiled and took a few sips.
The peace you had found in the kitchen was short lived and when Jilly, joined by Aegon and caught up in her exaggerated Lady Gaga performance, flung her arm out, the bottle of wine in her hand spilling right onto your chest and soaking through the white fabric of your shirt.
“Shit,” she winced. It was cold and you had a small sense of panic that raised goosebumps on your skin at the thought of wearing a wet, stained shirt all night but at the drunken apologetic look on her face all you could do was force a smile. Jilly giggled nervously. “At least it makes your tits look good.”
“Right,” you mumbled, fingers pulling the wet fabric off of your skin. It was uncomfortably sticking to your skin and the smell of the red wine was beginning to catch. “No problem.”
Aegon tapped your shoulder gently and gave you an animated salute. “Don’t worry, I’ll find you something from the fresh laundry.”
You followed him into the laundry, which was only just around the corner, waiting as he grinned and shuffled through the clothes that were sitting in the dryer. When Aegon turned to you, he had a stupid toothy smile and passed you a grey shirt. “Wear that. It’ll be big but it’ll still look good with the rest of your outfit if you tuck it in or something.”
The t-shirt Aegon handed you was a little long but you weren’t going to complain when you were much happier to be in dry clothing. It was a Slipknot shirt, the graphic on the front slightly worn down with time and washes. You figured it could have been worse–at least Slipknot were good. Aegon had long gone, giving you privacy to change and when you stepped out of the laundry room, you were surprised to see that people had started piling into the apartment.
Some hip-hop song you could barely recognise played loudly and you were a little thrown off by the crowds of unfamiliar faces. But everyone was having a good time, smiling and dancing among themselves.
Cigarettes, cologne and coffee filled your senses and you let out a small yelp as you met with a hardened surface, stumbling a little to catch yourself. Aemond’s hands reached out to grab hold of your arms, holding you steady against him so that you wouldn’t fall to the ground.
“Easy, missy,” he stepped back slightly, as if he were trying to get a good look at you. As Aemond dragged his gaze over you from head to toe, he smirked and hummed deeply.
The heat that rushed to your cheeks was quick and you wondered if Aemond had always smelled so delicious. Your mind was clouded by him and the way he didn’t remove his hands from you, his fingers still gently squeezing your flesh and keeping you far closer to him than you needed to be.
Whatever it was, if he continued to look at you with so much intensity and hold you as if he didn’t want to let go of you, there was a high chance you’d do something that would only leave you disappointed and embarrassed.
“Sorry,” you squeaked, pulling away from him in one movement and rushing into the kitchen. Jilly grinned at you, eyebrows wagging exaggeratedly in her drunken state.
The rest of the girls had found their way to the kitchen, which had actually quietened down even more in the short moments you were away. You found yourself once again at Helaena’s side, watching as Jilly danced with her bottle of wine in hand, and failing to listen to the conversation that was somehow still in flow.
If you were being honest, the party was a certain type of boring. There was a lot going on yet nothing at the same time and you chalked it up to the fact that you weren’t that friendly with anyone here. Helaena was only part of the crowd because she lived here and Jilly was becoming a part of Aegon’s group of mates, all of whom you knew of but had no real friendship with.
Floris, who had been staring at you on and off since you had returned, took a sip of her drink and flashed you an odd look. “Is that Aemond’s shirt?”
Helaena giggled beside you, watching you keenly as you frowned. When you answered, Floris looked at you with narrowed eyes. You cleared your throat, nervously nibbling on your bottom lip. “I assumed it was Aegon’s since he gave it to me.”
“What was wrong with what you came in?”
“Floris, you saw that blouse get ruined,” Jilly rolled her eyes, stepping closer to you when she noticed the gentle alarm on your face. “She couldn’t have stayed in a stained top. It won't dry out until tomorrow.”
Floris only huffed, regarding you with a harsh stare and a forced shrug. There was an odd silence that lingered and you considered offering her an apology. But you quickly realised that you didn’t really have anything to apologise for, even though it is probably Aemond’s t-shirt and it was no secret that Floris was all about Aemond.
The night was passing slowly and you continued to make small talk with the same few people you knew. But the weight of Floris’ glare never disappeared. And Aemond, with his gentle smirk and quiet confidence, had been lingering the entire night. You were half-certain that it was Floris who was the purpose of his prolonged presence in the kitchen, which had become somewhat of a break room for everyone at this point.
There was a pointed silence from him aside from the few words he had muttered in conversation with Helaena or Daeron yet his gaze was communicating more than his words could. Aemond kept looking towards you, his wanting eye holding yours assertively whenever you’d catch him watching you. You couldn’t help the heat that crept up your neck at the way he looked you up and down at every chance he got.
It was suffocating when paired with the daggers you could feel from Floris’ stares and Aegon’s vexing grin.
“I’m going outside for a bit,” you told Helaena, placing your glass down on the counter and flashing a pursed-lip smile at whoever caught your eye on your way towards the terrace.
The journey to the terrace wasn’t easy and you could feel your throat closing in as you tried to squeeze through crowds of people. It was sweaty and loud, shoulders knocking and elbows bumping as you finally pushed your way through to a secluded part of the terrace, sighing at the fresh air and solitude.
Once again, your peace didn’t last long before you caught a flash of silver in your peripheral.
Aemond stood beside you, so close that your shoulder brushed the leather of his jacket. “You alright?”
His proximity had turned your brain silent and you simply nodded, forcing your eyelids not to flutter shut at his delicious smell. There was a comfortable silence that followed. He rested his elbows on the railing as you were, relaxing against it and watching the street below.
A tickle on your cheek from a loose strand of Aemond’s hair following the breeze woke you up from the haze you were entering. “Not enjoying the party?”
“I don’t like parties,” he chuckled, reaching into his pocket.
You snickered, eyes trailing across his hands as he fiddled with a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. Taking a moment to admire the way his rings complemented his nimble yet clearly strong fingers, you couldn’t believe how attractive a man’s hands could be. “You’re not like your brother, then. That’s good–couldn’t handle having two Aegon’s about.”
Aemond shook his head, smiling as he held the box out to you. “Thankfully my brother and I are not alike. Cig?”
“Not for me.”
He hummed, popping a cigarette between his lips and holding the lighter to it. “Good. Do you mind?”
You didn’t have much else to say other than a shrug, letting him know it was alright for him to smoke. It would hardly be anything to complain about with the way Aemond seemed to look ten times sexier with a cigarette between his fingers and hanging from his lips.
“I guess your reputation isn’t a lie,” Aemond let his eye fall to you, holding a world of darkness and sin as he smirked at you. A cheeky grin played on his lips as he turned to his side, resting on his arm and leaning back a bit to look at you better.
You swallowed thickly. A wave of heat to your core had you turning away from him, the intensity of how he looked at you like you were tempting all of his urges. “I just try to stay clear of bad habits. It doesn’t really matter.”
“So you are a good girl,” Aemond leaned closer, his fingers gently tipping your head upwards at your chin. He was closer than he was before you had blinked and all of your senses were overwhelmed by him. “I like that. I wonder if Aegon was right about us.”
Because of the way he was holding your chin, firmly and gently at the same time, you had no choice but to meet his gaze. Goosebumps arose on your skin and you shivered despite the burn of his fingers on your skin.
“Let me take you somewhere more comfortable,” Aemond drawled. The air grew charged when he grazed his lips against yours, so softly it was almost nonexistent. “They all thought I would be the one to corrupt you but I can show you all the ways you’ve corrupted my mind instead.”
The small gasp that fell from your lips made his jaw tick and he let go of your chin, dragging the knuckles of his fingers across your cheek affectionately.
You nodded and cleared your throat quietly, surprised at your own eagerness. “But I don’t understand.”
“I think you do,” Aemond gently lowered his hand to hold your hip, letting one last puff of smoke out before putting his cigarette out. He guided you inside, keeping you right in front of him and his free arm loosely extended in front of your body to stop people from pushing into you. His lips lingered at your ear all the while. “You were already a pretty little thing, missy. But I never could have guessed that you’d be so fucking delicious in my clothes.”
You were grateful that you weren’t facing him. He couldn’t see the flush that had crossed your expression and had you shying away gently but only to sink further against his chest as he led you through a quieter hallway. When Aemond pushed open the door to his bedroom, he finally noticed your dishevelled state and let out an affectionate huff.
Only letting go of you for a moment so that he could close the door behind him, Aemond had turned you to face him and pulled you back to your place against his body. His bedroom was pointedly his; neat and collected, the walls decorated with a few posters of the bands he likes and bookshelves that were almost filled entirely. It smelled like clean linen and his cologne.
“Wait.” You remembered the girl who had been far more than unhappy to see you in his shirt and stiffened. “I thought you and Floris-”
“Floris and I are nothing,” Aemond was calm when he spoke, still watching you with that fierce desire that you had felt from him when you bumped into him earlier on. You swallowed down your apprehension visibly, avoiding eye contact. “I promise.”
Odd, considering you were well aware he didn’t need to promise you anything.
Aemond watched your chest heave with your heavy breaths, covered entirely by his favourite t-shirt which draped perfectly from your breasts. A hand returned to your hip, squeezing lightly while the other rested at the crevice of your neck and shoulder, his fingers tickling your warm skin.
He pursed his lips, hyper aware of how tense you were in his hands. “Tell me to stop and I will. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want. We can just chat and get to know each other.”
“No,” you shook your head.“I don’t want you to stop.”
It was impossible to resist the way that Aemond was pulling you against him, as if you weren’t close enough despite how you were pressed flush against him and the fabric of your clothing was all that could fit between the two of you. Gods, he smelled so good.
Confident with your reassurance, Aemond dipped his head so close to yours that you were sharing air, his smirk returned when he felt you shiver against him. “Are you nervous?”
“I don’t usually do this,” you muttered, eyelids fluttering shut when he brushed the tip of his nose against your cheek and pressed a featherlight kiss beside your lips, dragging them to your jaw when you instinctively moved to try catch his lips in the kiss you only now realised you were craving. But you failed and he cheekily worked away from your attempted kiss. His lips felt good on your skin and a soft gasp in his ear had him squeezing your hip harder. It reminded you what you were telling him. “We technically just met.”
He never stopped placing the smallest of kisses along your jaw, moving them towards your neck. “Technically?”
“We have a couple lectures together.”
The thought that it was rather surprising that he had never noticed much of you crossed Aemond’s mind but when you let your hand fall to his chest, fisting the lapel of his jacket and tugging like you needed him more than oxygen, it disappeared into a haze of your perfume and warmth.
Aemond hummed as you noticed he did often. “Does it count if I take you out the day after?”
“I’m sure it does,” you bit your lip to hide your smile, frowning when he pulled away from your neck. “But only if you really want–”
All your thoughts were lost when Aemond swallowed your words, his lips finding yours eagerly. You moaned against him, stiffening for a moment as your skin flushed under his touch but returning his vigour when he laced his fingers through your hair, holding it in a tight fist. It was a perfectly coordinated mess of tongue and teeth, and Aemond never once faltered in his fervour.
Blindly, you let him guide you to the bed, pulling him down without breaking the kiss when the edge of the bed hit the back of your legs.
In the soft glow of candlelight, the both of you were enveloped in a world of your own. The air was thick with anticipation as your bodies drew closer, the heat shared between you palpable. You tilted your head back, inviting his lips to trace a path along your neck, each kiss sending your blood rushing to your core.
“Tell me what you want,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.
“Everything, Aemond.”
As his hands found their way under his shirt, fingers gliding over your soft skin, you let out a soft gasp, arching into him. His hands roamed freely, seeking out the warmth beneath the soft fabric, craving your skin against his own.
You felt the weight of him above you, powerful and intoxicating. With a careful urgency, Aemond sat back momentarily, pulling you with him so that he could reach to unclasp your bra. When you moved to take the shirt off with a soft smile, he stopped you.
“Keep it on,” Aemond placed a kiss to your clothed shoulder, running his hand across the side of your leg as he let you get rid of your bra underneath the shirt. He pulled your skirt and tights off with steady hands, humming appreciatively at the way your underwear peaked out from where the t-shirt had bunched at your hips. “I want you in my shirt only.”
You watched him, entranced, as he took in the sight of you and muttered under his breath about how perfect you were for him, his eye dark with longing. Aemond moved downwards, nestling himself comfortably between your legs, pressing soft kisses along your inner thighs, his mouth warm and inviting.
When you whined impatiently he smiled, a wicked glint in his eye, and returned to his explorations, kissing his way closer to your core. Aemond never took his eye off you and you could see him watching you from where he teasingly licked at the skin where your thigh met your covered womanhood. The tension in your core tightened and you jerked when he wrapped his lips around your clothed clit and sucked hard.
Strong hands held your hips down as he wrapped his arms around your thighs, fingers pressing into the flesh of your thighs. Again, you whined at him. “You’re not very patient are you? Already so wet for me that I can taste your delicious pussy through the fabric. Tell me what you want.”
You propped yourself on your elbows, your arms quivering under your weight and breath hitching when you noticed his own clothes had been haphazardly taken off. Aemond was ridding you of your mind and he had barely done anything. “More, Aemond. I want more.”
“More what?”
“More of you,” you whined again, mouth watering at the way he gazed at you from where he was nestled. “I want more of you.”
Aemond complied, pulling your panties off as soon as your hips had lifted on his command. He gave you a pointed look, scolding you gently when you gave him a shy whimper, moving to shut your legs so he couldn’t see you spread for him.
“Spread your legs, pretty girl,” he let out a coarse breath when you wordlessly did as he said, baring yourself to him and gracing him with a sight more tempting than all the gold and jewels the world had to offer. Aemond’s hands guided your thighs apart encouragingly. “That’s it–little bit more.”
His gentle commands were both exhilarating and daunting. The weight of his gaze was both thrilling and intimidating, sending heat rushing to your cheeks and your cunt and the chuckle coming from the man between your legs was enough to tell you that he had seen you clench around nothing.
Trailing his kisses from your knees and down your thighs once again, Aemond groaned, fisting the bottom of the shirt that rested against your raised thigh and licking a long stripe between your folds. It had you sucking in a breath, the sensation of his wet tongue suddenly exploring your cunt taking over every part of your mind and body, your fingers grasping at the sheets when he lapped at your clit and moaned into your wetness.
“Gods, Aemond-” you made the prettiest noises but Aemond’s cock jumped at the way you said his name, giving him a newfound fervour as he ferociously sucked at your clit, flicking it with his tongue.
Nothing you had experienced with anyone had you trembling from sensitivity and pleasure so easily. His tongue and lips moved against you expertly and he let his arms wrap around your thighs as they rested against his shoulders, using his thumbs to spread you even more for him.
Spit mixed with your wetness, creating a slick that dripped from your cunt and tainted his chin and his cheeks but Aemond seemed only to revel in it. His cock grew painfully hard at the beautiful sounds you made and the sweet, slightly tart and metallic taste of you on his tongue.
At a particularly harsh suck on your clit, you jerked, legs clamping shut around Aemond’s head as you felt your orgasm building faster than you had expected. “Aemond. Oh fuck, it’s good-”
“Are you going to come for me, missy?” Aemond asked and the vibrations of his voice while he continued to feast on you had you moaning out an incoherent answer. He was watching you as you nodded, head thrown back so all that he could see over your body and his t-shirt was your chin and glimpses of your blissful expression.
Shuddering and struggling to even your breathing, a heated pleasure took you with surprising intensity. Aemond continued to suck on you, delving into you with his tongue and teasing you with his fingers as he helped you through your orgasm, groaning at the way your body tensed and your pussy clenched.
Placing a final kiss on your clit with a cheeky grin, making his way up your body, enjoying the way you continued to tremble and whimper under his touch. He took a nipple into his mouth through the shirt, teasingly only giving it a moment of attention before his lips were back on yours.
Sharing the taste of you, Aemond kissed you hungrily despite having done the same within your folds only seconds ago. It was unbelievably hot in the room and you became dizzy with how your body gave into his, moulding against him perfectly as his hips found their place between your legs.
Aemond’s voice was dark and confident, dripping with lust.
But you salivated at the thought of taking him in your mouth and tried to push him back. “I want you in my mouth too.”
“Not tonight.” His hand found one of your breasts, touching you over the shirt. When you pouted at him, legs still jerking around his hips, Aemond softly moaned. “Aren’t you full of surprises? Good girl like you, so eager to suck me.”
Hot and heavy, Aemond grinded his cock against you, pressing it deliciously to your clit and then taking its place with his fingers. He wondered whether the pout on your lips would disappear when he pushed a digit into you, satisfied to see it fall away and be replaced with a furrow of your eyebrows and a silent gasp.
Keening at both his words and the way that Aemond slid another finger in and curled them inside you, searching for that spot that had your toes curling, you were increasingly desperate to taste him now that you had felt how hard and ready he was for you. “Please, let me taste you.”
“You’ll have plenty of opportunities for that.” He sighed deeply when you moaned loudly, grasping at his shoulders and pressing your face into his neck. “I would kill to feel your pretty lips on my cock. Do you want to know what I think, missy?”
Aemond was intoxicating, sending your body into overdrive and your mind hazy with need. All you could do was nod, lost in the way he was perfectly bringing you to so much bliss.
“I think,” he purred. “That I’m going to make you mine. And that I’ll fuck the well-behaved girl right out of you in each and every shirt that I own.”
Gasping for air as he pushed himself into you, replacing his fingers with his cock, you clung to him as he stretched you out. There was a sharp sting from his size but it subsided quickly and you could feel the effects of Aemond’s cock in you all the way down your legs and to your toes.
Aemond’s breath hitched, his eye holding yours as he gave you time to adjust, jaw clenched and holding you tightly as if he’d fall to the pits of the hells if he were to let go of you.
For someone he had just met properly only hours ago, Aemond thought he had found his own heaven in you and your body.
You mewled, pushing your hips forward greedily. “It feels so good-so good, Aemond.”
He slowly moved his hips, hissing and letting his forehead fall to your shoulder where he bit down gently. The way Aemond pushed deeper into you at every thrust forward stole your breath from your lungs each time. He felt like he was a virgin once again, feeling the comfort of a wet, hot cunt for the first time, losing the control he had over the urge to claim you properly and spill into you already.
Aemond was no stranger to the pleasures of the body but never had he fallen victim to weakness by a woman and Aemond was of half a mind to understand that he would do anything you asked of him simply because your bodies were a carnally perfect fit. Right now, he would burn down cities if you asked him to.
Keeping the steady pace, Aemond’s thrusts became more forceful, driving into you harder and drawing out nonsensical murmurs and whimpers from you. It was white-hot, each thrust sending a barrage of pleasure and sensitivity through your body.
“If only they could see you now,” Aemond’s tone was deep, laced with lust and somewhat desperate as his hips snapped into you, the sound of skin against skin and his cock pushing lewd sounds from your wetness that couldn’t be drowned out by the distant thump of the party’s music. “The perfect, innocent girl that they all believe you to be, squeezing my cock like a good little slut. Just for me.”
Blissful, incoherent sounds that he pulled from only spurred him on further and you could feel how his cock twitched and moved within you. The way that Aemond’s body fit with yours was perfect and it had that tension return to your stomach, your skin tingling and toes curling as he sped up his movements. It was blinding and deafening at the same time, stealing your breath from you each time he dragged his cock out only to push it back in.
Shaking and trembling, your legs squeezed around his hips and Aemond grunted, his head falling to your shoulder as he grabbed the flesh of your thigh and pushing it up and holding it beside you. Angling your hips perfectly, Aemond’s rough thrusts found a sensitive spot and you gasped, back arching off the bed as you gripped him tightly in your arms. You were barely of the right mind to notice him hiss when your nails scraped across his skin.
Aemond was convinced he had found a version of peace in your body, the feeling of your warmth and wetness squeezing him, quieting the loud, painful thoughts that never ceased in his mind. He swore, his voice constrained and his fingers digging further into your flesh. There wouldn’t be a day that could go by in which he wouldn’t be haunted by your perfect cunt and pretty sounds. It was a thought that would have had him scoffing in any other circumstances but he was so lost in you that he couldn’t find it in himself to give a damn.
“You are so fucking-” he groaned. “Tight. Made to fit my cock perfectly.”
“Aemond-”
He chuckled, enjoying the way his name was the only word you could force out between your moans. Aemond’s hips stuttered as you clamped down around him, your eyes rolling back and falling shut as you turned away from him reflexively, pressing your head into the pillow and whining pathetically.
“Yes, missy?” Aemond’s voice was constricted but still smooth.
“Gonna come–I’m gonna come,” you gasped out between whimpers and moans, calling out his name as if he was your salvation.
Aemond let go of your thigh, his fingers clasping around your throat and squeezing the sides enough so that he could force your head out of the pillow. “Look at me when you come, pretty girl.”
When your eyes met his, you were surprised to see that his eyepatch hadn’t been discarded but couldn’t linger on the thought. Not with the way that overwhelming tension had become too much, coiling in your stomach and making you quiver underneath Aemond’s strong body, coming to its peak and snapping with an earth shattering, burning intensity that forced your entire world to go quiet.
With strained gasps, Aemond’s peak quickly followed yours and he pulled out, surprised to see how swiftly your hand replaced his. You felt the ropes of his hot seed fall onto your stomach, the warmth of his breath against your skin as he buried his face into your neck, heaving as he rode through the strength of his orgasm.
Strings of curses came from him as he let his body fall to the space beside you. Aemond barely wasted two seconds before pulling you into him so that your head rested against his chest as he held you against him. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” you smiled, letting yourself melt into him, too spent to spare a thought for the mess on your stomach. “But I doubt I’ll be feeling so great tomorrow.”
A deep chuckle vibrated against your ear. “I’d apologise but I’m afraid I wouldn’t mean it.”
“Cheeky.”
Aemond took a hold of your wrist when you slapped his chest gently, bringing your hand up to place a kiss on your knuckles before letting his hand fall to that spot on your hip. “I wasn’t lying you know.”
“About?” You raised an eyebrow, craning your neck so that you could see his face without moving away from him.
“I will take you out.” Aemond grinned, squeezing your flesh playfully. “And I will fuck you in every single one of my t-shirts.”
#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x you#aemond targaryen imagines#aemond targaryen smut#aemond fanfiction#aemond one eye#aemond smut#aemond targaryen#hotd x reader#house of the dragon#aemond x reader#aemond fic#prince aemond#prince aemond targaryen#hotd aemond#aemond angst#house of the dragon aemond#aemond x you#aemond x oc#aemond x y/n#aemond x fem!reader#aemond x female#aemond x fem!oc#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond targaryen x female reader#aemond targaryen fanfiction#aemond fandom#aemond fan fiction#aemond targaryen x ofc#smut
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i love these tags this person is so right
actually, can you imagine if dave was raised by B1 roxy?
i wanna get into this actually
(ok i had to spend a few hours rewriting this because IT DIDNT FUCKING SAVE AFTER FIVE HOURS OF WRITING WHEN MY COMPUTER UPDATED WHILE I WAS AFK so it would mean a lot to show this post some appreciation. i LOVEEE hearing what other people have to say)
even though these things mom does are presented in an extravagant, kitsch, jokey way, her intentions always came from a place of sincerity. she is simply Funnie
but rose reads too far into it and assumes things that aren't there, that her mother is passive-aggressively feigning interest in rose's interests simply because the things she does are so extra. "why do all of this if not to mock me"
im telling you right now if dave lived in this household he wouldn't assume antagonism, he'd go,
don’t forget who LITERALLY patented tangible jpeg artifacts as their post-scratch adult self and scattered shitty scummed up statue of liberties all over the planet. theres no way some of that overboard artful shit wasnt post-ironic / circling back around to genuine funny sincerity
dave's natural state is funny sincerity like roxy. he's had the natural capacity for this type of humor from the start and this is the direction he goes towards when he grows out of his brother's shadow by the end of the comic. dave and roxy share an earnest “so bad its good” type of humor
(lots more under the cut; the length of this meta analysis just got unwieldly with all the pictures and whatnot)
despite the alcoholism, roxy is a supportive mother. she's not the ideal guardian but hells of a lot more supportive of her kid than bro is. if she knew dave's interests she would totally indulge in them with some over the top silly goofy haha shit as a genuine gesture simply because she loves him
rose isn't too keen on it though. but she is more similar to dirk in her natural state of thinking of overthinking shit and assuming the worst, like the tags said
and yes dave got the sweet cuddly yet sometimes backhanded ouppy gene from roxy, probably even moreso lol
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roxy's even said rose "sounds like girl dirk"
side tangent here, but this is something i wanna talk about.
i dont think bro should ever be in custody of children ever but if theres anyone who would be up to the task it's rose probably. i know she'd be able to keep up with him. not only does she have a defined personality (dave is more malleable and absorbs his environment like a sponge), if anyone can pick apart B1 dirk's batshit brain and probably be right on the money it's her. lil cal has been pumping patriarchal nonsense into bro's head and rose would be able to bring the fucking facts to the table without losing her own and being a living example of a badass little girl. i also don't think bro would try to force masculine roles onto rose like he did with dave, seeing as she is a girl, so she would actually have more of a leg up and get some passes that dave was never afforded. and rose wouldn't stand idly and accept any bullshit; she is no doormat. and i think this would earn bro's respect
but anyway, from this, couldn't we conclude roxy "sounds like girl dave"?
yeah okay. we havent even gotten into their penchant for funny typos or misspeaks, deliberate or otherwise
so, dave's environment
the sentiment "god you hope you can be as good as your bro at this some day" might have been genuine at the time when he idolized bro but of course he's not able to express that in any sort of sincere fashion because he's in dirk's fucking household. and this level 10 irony shit isnt doing dave any favors
his role models were the Internet and a vague idea of what Bro was like. So he built up his facade based on irony–not the literary definition of irony, as Rose might be quick to point out, but a popular concept of irony based on the idea that things that didn’t make sense actually made sense in some roundabout way. As a master of irony, Dave probably reasoned, he could see in a way other people couldn’t why a world that was scary and didn’t make sense really did make sense, and could therefore convince those people that he was superior to them. And he would wield his knowledge to maintain the appearance of superiority by calling everything ironic and pretending he didn’t care about things that didn’t make sense, and he would use walls of vaguely rhyming words to keep everyone at arm’s length so they wouldn’t discover his insecurities (source)
roxy's style is the embodiment of post-irony. being raised by mom lalonde would be like being raised by joel vinesauce ok
what can i say ….. (getting meta about this actually, hussie got these jpeg wizard wallpapers from a spyware website. link takes some time to load because internet archive)
rose is quick to read post-irony as actually being a joke/insincere, which in bro's case would be true. but i believe dave's natural instinct, outside of the influence of bro, is to read post-irony as genuine, which is exactly how mom serves it. we see this as early as act 3 from him; he understands her motives better than rose does herself:
and in act 6 intermission 2 i think it's pretty clear
but the thing is, it's always genuine from her. dave wouldn't have to second guess it because he's not one to naturally second guess someone's sincerity; that was learned due to his bro being virtually unassailable
there two types of ironies at play here:
seems like a joke, is actually genuine (roxy)
doesnt seem like a joke, is actually a joke (dirk)
you can make the argument that the second is is more psychologically destructive because it makes you question the reality of what is genuine sentiment and what isn't. dave never knew what was genuine and what was irony so he just sort of existed in this sincerity-ironic limbo and always did the opposite of what he genuinely felt on principle even if it always did originate from a genuine place.
"it just a joke bro i was just being ironic i dont actually x" is so much more trust-breaking and psychologically damaging than "wait are you being serious" / "i am being so fucking fr rn davy gravy" / "ok thats actually pretty fucking awesome. giant ass wizard statue" / "RIGHT"
how much about dave would change do you think? his character arc would be completely different for one thing, i think he'd have it good aside from mom's alcohol issues. he'd be left with the sweet and funny parts of him that we see at the end of the comic. the fake coolguy stuff is out, but this remains. this is dave in his element and we see it as early as act 1
he'd probably have no shades growing up in the lalonde residence* either cause those were given to him by bro straight out of the crater as an extension of his own cool image. and john gave dave ben stiller’s aviators for his 13th birthday to replace them so he could “spread his wings”
dave said he was wearing them for the ironies but i kind of doubt it. maybe post-irony but there was some reacharound to it being genuine because dave never put those pointy anime shades on his face again.
*though... it’s kind of hard to imagine him without his shades at all? B2 dave still got stiller’s shades from stiller himself so maybe getting them is a universal constant. i can imagine mom getting him them as a birthday gift cause shes pretty wealthy and probably could buy it out in an auction. but also itd be cool if john still gave him it as a gift
dave is actually a lot more genuine and easy to read than he lets on even when grappling with his upbringing with B1 dirk (again, see this post). this can be seen all throughout he comic but a good example is the evolution of thoughts about his interest in the preserved dead things in his room:
if B1 roxy was dave's guardian he probably WOULD have pursued paleontology because she wouldve indulged him in it and probably find it cool and worthwhile to pursue, instead of allowing dave to flounder under ironic detachment, being poisoned by irony to the point of gaslighting himself into believing he doesnt actually believe he thinks this shit is cool. even if it was indulged in this such a way; a superficially kitsch and ironic appearing presentation, it comes from a genuine place and inspires genuine interest. just read the comments.
basically, i think if B1 roxy raised dave, their relationship would have a surface level appearance of being bizarre or over-the-top but they’d have an unsaid mutual understanding that it’s completely in earnest and just build on each other's funny and absurd gestures of affection. rather than seeing it as one-upping each other, it'd more like collaboration of some silly bullshit that you take a step back and look at full and just say, "fucking incredible"
speaking of paleontology, mom had the proto-ectobiology lab. maybe they'd be able to use the equipment to appearify paradox ghost imprints of the dead shit to create paradox clones of things from the cambrian era??? sounds like a fun mother son bonding activity. and theyd actually put the sciencey shit in the household to use
oh god i know exactly the kinds of music shed listen too also growing up as a teen in the 80s. she on that (post)-punk/art rock/new wave/new romantic mtv stuff. XTC shit fr. this is a B-52S HOUSEHOLD. maybe the associates for the campy melodramatic flair. so he gets to keep the record on his shirt cause he is an enjoyer of the shit in her vinyl collection. dave would still gravitate towards musical expression and music itself but of more variety outside of just rap, with an 80s-90s, even 70s flavor due to mom’s influence. see this for perhaps a glimpse. she probably visited new york city a lot for business trips and because the music scene was cool as hell around that time, imports came straight from jfk airport, she probably got in on that a bit and have remnants in the form of vinyls and cassettes. in this way she could be distributing void to dave (influencing him with forgotten / presently irrelevant music). now he can REALLY rave about bands none of his friends have heard of. “hey davy grvay watcha listenin to” (he holds up vinyl cover) “omg snakefinger”
btw dave lalonde would look like this to me
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size kink go brr
Summary: Reader is horny, Mingyu is big, size kink go brrr
Characters/Pairing: Boyfriend!Mingyu x Reader
Genre: Smut, dirty, self-indulgent, porn without plot. (Crack, yeah, this is a crackfic smut.)
AU/Trope info: Established relationship. No thoughts, head empty, monster cock Mingyu.
Word Count: 1254
Warnings: Female reader, smut warnings under the cut
A/N: reskin of another fic i wrote for ateez bc I need to feed yall
Smut Warnings: cunnilingus, degradation and praise at the same time(?), choking, very large emphasis on the fact that reader is getting split open by what is essentially a third leg, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, creampie, reader starts crying at one point but Mingyu isnt into that, biting, reader overstimulated to the point she short-circuits.
“Fuck, Mingyu!” You screamed as he gave a particularly harsh suck to your clit, your fingers tugging at the roots of his hair as two of his large fingers scissored you open. The dirty slurping noises come from Mingyu as he ate you like a starved man, he groans and almost buries his nose in your pelvis, breathing in your scent, and his eyes roll to the back of his head as if your pussy was the best thing in his mouth after fried chicken.
He bucks into the mattress, dick hard and leaking at the tip in his boxers, if you kept moaning so pornographically and pulling at his hair he might just jizz in his pants. He squeezes the flesh of your thighs hard, pulling your pussy closer to his face, the man was on a mission to make you cream (or better yet, squirt) all over his face; an essential part of his skincare, at least that’s what he said.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck- Mingyu! Mingyu! I’m cumming- cumming-!” You whine out, clamping your thighs around his head as you push his face closer, Mingyu welcomes your orgasm with his whole mouth by messily slurping your cum. He pulls away from your cunt once you start cringing from overstimulation, using his hand to wipe your cum off his chin.
He quickly discards his pants and boxers, “Help me get your legs over my shoulders babe.” He says as you hook your hands under your thighs, spreading out your legs as Mingyu slots himself between you, pumping his dick quickly. “Fuck, you should see how hot you look, so tiny and so willing to take everything I give you.” He said while lining his dick to your entrance. You can feel the tip of his dick prodding at your hole, you bit your lip as you brace for the entrance of his gargantuan, monster cock; I’m talking thiccc with three ‘c’s, third leg, can play baseball with the fucking moon kind of big.
You hiss as the tip of his cock breaches your entrance, his large calloused hands guide your hips onto his dick as he pushes in more. You hiss at the delicious sting of his dick, removing your hands from your legs and opting to claw at the bedsheets, Mingyu takes one takes a hand that was once guiding your hips to hold onto the headboard, the view from below was great.
You slowly take him inch by inch, and even with how wet you are the penetration still seems to burn, it took a lot more time than you think for Mingyu to bottom out, like, when I say MONSTER COCK I MEAN it. Once he does bottom out, his pelvis meeting with your ass, the tip of his angry cock pressing up against your cervix and pushing away some of your organs.
He pulls out slowly, gauging your reaction to every vein and ridge on his cock, as he pushes back in you furrow your eyebrows, biting your lip as you feel his dick rub the entire inside of your pussy. He groans when you clench around him, nails digging into the wood of the headboard as he starts with a gentle pace, moving his hips in and out slowly at first, before speeding up the roll of his hips.
“Holy shit- Mingyu! Fuck so big, too big-!” You cry out, you really can’t be sure that’s what you said though, even if he isn’t fucking into you at an animalistic pace he still manages to fuck the brain cells out of you, you might just be babbling nonsense right now. He makes a noise between a moan and a groan, biting the inside of his cheek, “You take everything I give you- you understand?” He grunts out, speeding up again and pinning you down more, he is low enough for you to feel his hard breaths on your ear, he bites down on your shoulder in an attempt to quiet down his noises, he wants to hear you.
You grip his arms, moaning in a high pitch and babbling nothing in particular, Mingyu was fucking you stupid with his giant cock and you couldn’t be happier, his pace now was brutal, the skin of your ass stinging with how hard his pelvis has smacked into it, you could feel yourself get embarrassingly close already. Your moans turned into high-pitched cries as your orgasm was speedily approaching, you clenched around his dick to signal to him your incoming orgasm, but it never came, because suddenly Mingyu got off and pulled out, denying you your orgasm.
You whine in frustration, making more babbling noises and doing grabby hands at Mingyu, he chuckles and bites his lip, looking up and down your naked body, from your hard and perky nipples to your abused and tender hole. He finally enters you again after making sure your climax is nowhere to be seen, this time he starts fucking into you with fervor, holding your hips up to hit the deepest part of you, “Fuuck- that’s it, take my cock like the good fucking cum slut you are-” He says, somehow the combination of his praise and degradation make you whine out, absolutely blissed out, no thoughts, head empty, only big Mingyu and his big cock destroying your insides.
You were so, so close again, but Mingyu slowed down the aggressive pace of his hips, stopping his thrusts and just grinding down slowly, you started to cry, you wanted to cum so badly but Mingyu didn’t let you for the second time already, “Fuck- Mingyu, please please please, let me cum! I’ve been so good, please-!!” Mingyu, not having the heart to deny you again, finally decides that he was going to let you cum.
He lays down, “Go on and ride me, babe, I know how much you love to bounce on my cock.” He says, so naturally, you jump up and immediately straddle his hips, sinking onto his cock quickly, he takes a sharp intake of air as you enthusiastically start rolling your hips, grinding down on him. You place your hands on his large and firm chest, then you start bouncing up and down his cock, loving the sting of his giant dick reaching the deepest parts of you. Mingyu can feel himself coming closer to his high as you clamp down on his dick like a vice, trying to milk him for his worth, he grips your hips and starts bucking up into you, you whine out and babble expletives, mouth hanging open and drooling, digging your nails into his chest as your orgasm approached you quickly.
You throw your head back and finally cum, your jaw slacking open and your eyes rolling to the back of your head, the spasming of your pussy pushes Mingyu over the edge too, sending his load straight into your womb, this action threw you violently into another orgasm, making you choke out a strangled moan as your cringe of oversensitivity.
You both pant out, you’re exhausted and sweaty, muscles sore, pussy raw, and you just want to pass out in a tub full of warm water. Mingyu shares the same sentiment, so he runs a bath for both of you to get cleaned up, and once you two are done taking a bath, you sit down on the edge of the tub while Mingyu changes the ruined sheets. He tucks you under his arm, kisses your forehead, and you both pass out.
FIN.
#svthub#kvanity#hiraya m#k labels#kwritersworldnet#okiedokrie#size kink go brr#svt#seventeen x reader#mingyu#mingyu x reader#kim mingyu#seventeen fanfic#seventeen fic#seventeen mingyu#mingyu x reader smut#seventeen#mingyu smut#mingyu x you#mingyu x y/n
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for the nsfw request for Stan and Ford (which tbh is more like a question lol also be completely free to not answer in case you don't want to); what kind of noises do they make? or they don't make a noise at all? Thank you!!
No problem, thanks for asking!
Under cut as is 18+
STANLEY:
He seems like the kind of guy who would grunt and moan a little, he's not quiet but he's not loud either, as he wants to hear his partner's sounds most of all, but sometimes he can't be quiet either cause it just feels too good. (Also likes to hear the squeak or rattle of whatever furniture he's got you placed on/bent over when you get into it, has broken a worn out, shoddy table or two in his time!)
Knows from experience that a lot of partners like him to make some noise 😉 (say thank you to the ladies who taught him this). Though the very point where he does come, he's practically silent. Will pant and groan afterwards though.
Stan in everyday life is sorta what you get in bed too, just more unfiltered, he opens his mouth to say all sorts of dirty things and feedback about how good you're doing/feel and things he wants to do to you and praises you when you respond in the way he wants. Depends on the circumstances though, as if he's totally in the moment he doesn't run his mouth so much. Can also be more playful too, so at times he'll try to make his partner laugh or be totally cheesy (cue awfully obvious rp where he pretends you're some beautiful/handsome stranger), you might get a chuckle out of him as well. On the other hand, if you manage to rile him up enough, Stan will practically growl in your ear 🥴
If it's just him by himself though, he doesn't make too much sound at all, just moans a little, definitely has that depressing post nut clarity and feels a bit guilty for taking himself in hand.
STANFORD:
Tries to control his volume. Is not successful!
This guy is painfully touch starved and is making up for lost time once he's with a partner, so ends up being unable to censor all the sounds that come out of him from feeling someone else's touch. I'd say his volume is about medium, though, as he does have some self-control. However, once he starts to feel remotely close to orgasm, he will get increasingly more whiny. Increasingly desperate towards climax and starts begging you or saying things, it's so garbled though you don't even know if it's proper sentences or just nonsensical babble. Cannot contain his cries of pleasure when he finally does climax! 🤭 (Edge this man if you want but get soundproofing if you do, otherwise even the neighbours will be able to hear what you're getting up to!)
Doesn't talk too much during, mostly lost in it, will keep giving you necessary instruction or feedback, though. Mostly moans, groans and whines, praises you for how good you are/feel. Though, I think once he starts to get into a relationship and gain confidence/experience, will be more able to control his volume and will run his mouth more, if that's something you're into. Will pleasure you and not let you touch him so he can focus on talking you through it 🫠 gets a little cocky once he finds out that you like the sound of his deep voice (what have you unleashed upon yourself??!!!!)
Thinks that his self pleasure is about average but is probably below average, sees it more as relieving stress than for indulgence in fantasies, feels alienated by the way most men would talk about it as it doesn't fit his experiences at all (e.g. thinks most men exaggerate their drive and promiscuity... Probably not wrong, but I hc that Ford is on the ace spectrum somewhere, probably demi sexual, but doesn't know until the twins tell him about lgbt+ identities). Helps him to sleep, though didn't feel safe enough to do it much at all during his portal days, as he was often on the run. Is often intentionally quiet when doing it because he often is in places where the walls are thin or he needs to hear if he might be walked in on (because it's likely to happen; is happy that so far he's never been caught) still moans a lot when he comes though.
#answered asks#pix replies#stanley pines x reader#gravity falls fanfic#nsft asks#ford pines x reader#stanford pines x reader#stan pines x reader
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ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ ˎˊ- comforting their s/o that’s scared of talking too much
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ot13 x gn!reader — no warnings i think
veeeery self-indulgent post i’m ngl :) if you relate to the prompt then hopefully this will provide you with some comfort! <3
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�� seungcheol
he will insist on knowing who put such nonsense in your mind, because how dare they make you feel self-conscious about one of the things he loves the most about you? he absolutely adores that you passionately ramble about the most random things; it always lifts his mood even after a long and exhausting day. and that’s what he’s here to remind you: that you should never be ashamed of talking if it’s something that makes you happy.
— jeonghan
any kind of negative thoughts on your part becomes his #1 priority so he takes time to discuss it with you and give you enough reassurance. he reminds you that talking a lot is not a bad thing at all, and that you’re also an amazing listener, which he’s very grateful for. “people are just jealous because you’re interesting enough not to run out of conversation!” he tells you, wiping your tears away. it truly breaks his heart to see you so self-conscious so he’ll definitely be extra careful regarding this topic in the future <3
— joshua
no matter where that insecurity comes from, he comforts you with immense patience and lots of cuddles, reminding you of how much your words matter. on a more personal note, he absolutely adores the sound of your voice, it’s one of his favorite things about you. “i’d fall asleep to your voice every night if i could,” he tells you, looking into your teary eyes with a smile, and you just know he’s being 100% honest, “and you should never ever feel bad about wanting to share things with the people you love.”
— jun
it really pains him to hear that’s how you feel because he can only imagine how long you’ve been thinking about it before even telling him. but jun is here to tell you that you always make people feel comfortable, which is something he finds absolutely wonderful about you. he knows it can be hard to overthink about your social skills so he will always make sure to encourage you to speak your mind (whether it’s through a gentle squeeze of the hand or a smile from across the room). and he also showers you with kisses because he knows it’s one of the best remedies for overthinking :]
— hoshi
what? you? talking too much? oh he’s not gonna let that slide. he proceeds to go off on a tangent about your countless qualities (some that aren’t even related to the topic, he just gets carried away), because he will not let you struggle alone with your insecurities, that’s for sure. as often, he wishes he could lend you his eyes to make you understand how perfect you are to him. “and so what if you talk a lot? i do too! it’s who i am, it’s who you are and that’s why we’re a match made in heaven.”
— wonwoo
it feels weird for him to hear that you’re self-conscious about something he really admires you for. according to him, it’s the ease with which you talk that made your first dates not feel awkward. he loves how good you are with words of affirmation, and he also insists on how it inspires him to be more vocal about his own thoughts and feelings. “i don’t think you realize how entertaining you are. but i sure realize how lucky i am to have you,” he tells you in a more lighthearted tone, pressing a kiss against your temple.
— woozi
he insists on the fact that he’s one of the people that spends the most time with you, so you can truly believe him when he tells you that it’s not true. “that’s just because you love me,” you tell him, comfortably snuggled up against his side. “it is,” he replies, “but that goes for everyone around you; the people who love you will accept you for who you are. and if they don’t… screw them”. because woozi may be an absolute sweetheart but he has very low tolerance for the people who mess with his partner’s head.
— dokyeom
first and foremost, he offers to hug the sadness away, which kind of works because he’s a professional when it comes to comfort hugs. he knows it’s normal to have insecurities but he hates seeing you so self-conscious, so he’ll definitely try his best to cheer you up. also, words cannot describe how much he loves talking with you, so he’d really hate it if these bad thoughts ended up changing your personality. most of the time he’s the bubbly one, but he also likes to be fueled by his very own sunshine from time to time.
— mingyu
as a professional yapper, he understands where that insecurity might be coming from, which means he knows exactly how to comfort you. he’s here to remind you of all the times you’ve been a great listener to either him or your friends, and the great pieces of advice that followed. mingyu thinks your inputs are always important, no matter the conversation, and he’s so freaking happy to be sharing his life with someone that can keep up with his own pace! as long as he’s here, you know you’ll always have someone to listen to your every word.
— minghao
he’s scared he might have accidentally made you feel that way while teasing you (lovingly ofc), so he apologizes profusely until you tell him that he has nothing to do with it. “you enjoy sharing your perspective on things and that’s beautiful,” he reassures you, “and you know me, i’d tell you if you were too overbearing… but you’re not. so don’t worry your pretty head, ok?”. and it’s moments like these that truly make you feel grateful for minghao’s wise and comforting words, always carefully chosen to make your worries disappear in a second.
— seungkwan
kind of like cheol, he wants names. because - and he’s saying that with all due respect - they should know they’re just stupid people spreading stupid lies. seungkwan knows you by heart, he knows you’re a selfless person that’s always here to help their loved ones, and he thinks you’re not giving yourself enough credit for that! “you’re absolutely perfect in every way, and i thi- stop. i can see you’re about to argue but i’m not letting you win this one. no way.”
— vernon
he has a really sensitive approach to this issue, knowing how hard it is when you get in your own head. hugs and cuddles are definitely a part of him comforting you, but he also makes you promise something (and you can see from the look in his eyes that he’s very serious). “if you ever start overthinking after any kind of social interaction, private or public, with or without me, please come and talk to me. i’ll try my best to help you get rid of these thoughts, alright?”. because at the end of the day, he wants to be someone you can be fully transparent with, just like he is with you.
— dino
according to him, you shouldn’t even be thinking about how much you talk in a day. instead, he worries that you might be surrounding yourself with people that simply do not appreciate this aspect of your personality. “if you have something to say, go ahead! being yourself should make you happy, and life’s already too complicated to worry about speaking too many words!” he tells you, and you can tell he genuinely wants you to let go of these hurtful thoughts. but he also knows how hard it is, and luckily chan is great at making long-term efforts (especially for your wellbeing), so expect lots and lots of carefulness and support on a daily basis.
rbs and feedback are always appreciated <3
#seventeen x reader#seventeen fluff#seventeen comfort#seungcheol x reader#jeonghan x reader#joshua x reader#jun x reader#hoshi x reader#wonwoo x reader#woozi x reader#dokyeom x reader#mingyu x reader#minghao x reader#seungkwan x reader#vernon x reader#dino x reader
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really appreciate everyone adding their stories to the "what being gay was like in the early 2000's" thread. and to the zoomers etc who are taking it in and are interested. if you'll indulge me a second, i'd like to make a small plea to keep this background in mind when something that us millennials say seems really toxic, edgelordy, or frustratingly unascended. a lot of us have learned how to hide our early social conditioning in the right language and we fear stepping out of line and reproducing the harm we endured, but this stuff is bone deep inside a lot of us and it comes out in ugly ways. it shapes what we're most comfortable with, and what we're biased about, our emotional reactions to things, our compulsive behaviors. a lot of us are still back there, a little bit, no matter how much better we get over time. still a little stuck in the era of low rise jeans with whale tales and anorexia blogs and getting drunk in the park with 29 year olds when you're sixteen and just kind of letting them do whatever to you while thinking about something that you really want that feels impossible to get, nonsensical and alien almost, even to you. i'm pleaing for you to show a level of compassion i never showed to my boomer parents and their faults really, but maybe you'll be able to extend a little of it since i'm not like, your dad, i'm just some guy who has learned a couple of things, and so when i fail you i'm not failing you in that way. i dont know. i feel kind of affectionate and protective toward the shitty totally fucked up younger self i was who lived in that world. it's a strange thing to be both nostalgic about and to know was completely wrong and fucked you up. but it's the only past you had, so there's always some attachment there, and it's hard to let go of even if you can't see us grippin it.
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Price with an ADHD reader
So self indulgent!
John Price who feels self-conscious thinking you like Soap more because of your similar personalities.
Soap and you are a tumultuous pair, feeding off each other’s energy, you’re good friends, you hang out together just the two of you. He’s not jealous, especially not of Johnny, but he does feel a pang of self-consciousness at times, feels bad about not being able to keep up with you sometimes, about not being enough. He wouldn’t share those thoughts with you, more of an inside thing, he feels silly. Of course those doubts melt away as soon as you’re telling him about how your day went, about how much you missed him, about what reminded you of him. All the possible doubts he had leaving as he gets showered with kisses.
John Price who just stands and watches when you get the zoomies.
A sudden burst of energy has you walking up and down the house following John around, jumping from topic to topic to the latest song lyrics or idle dance move stuck in your head. He watches in amusement and tries to engage in your jumping conversation.
John Price who falls asleep during your late night yapping and still responds with nonsense answers while asleep.
“-And yeah apparently emus can’t walk backwards, don’t you think that's weird? How can an animal just not do that?” Your before-bed rant has been going on for longer than usual, inspired by a Wikipedia rabbit hole that still lingers in your phone’s history.
“Does Laswell know?” He mumbles.
“About emus?”
John Price who’s reluctant to lay on top of you if you ask.
“Please, please, please it’ll feel good!”
“Love, I’d crush you.” He had gotten you a weighted blanket for this exact reason. “Ain’t the blanket enough?”
“No! Because the blanket’s cold and you’re so much better better!” He’s reluctant, your puppy eyes are working overtime getting him to agree, which he does, of course.
John Price who just sighs and plays along when you ask him to wrestle you.
In your defense, it' was's a good way to get rid of extra energy or help while understimulated. He’s currently got you in the loosest headlock he can manage while you kick and thrash.
“Are you tired yet?” No answer comes, just more kicking that makes him release you.
As you try to attack him again, John effortlessly picks you up and throws you on the bed, which earns him a fit of giggles followed by an attempt to tackle him that ends you back in bed.
John Price who comforts you if you ever think you’re too much for him.
Big tears are coming down your eyes and wetting your face, you couldn’t pinpoint where all these feelings came from. You’ve got your face against his chest, voice shaking as you explain how you feel.
“I’m just a lot, you know? And I need you all the time and you like being alone and i want to give you space and I try, but I’m too much and-”
“Okay love, c’mon, none of that.” He cut you off after probably the thirtieth ‘and’. “We need what we need, and we work ‘round that all the time, don’t we? You’re not too much, you’re good just the way you are.”
John Price who lets you use him as a human fidget.
You’ve been waiting in this queue for no more than 5 minutes and it’s still getting you impatient, he notices, of course. The rapid looking-around, your foot tapping are all tell-tale signs of it. He extends his hand to you, which you take, and begin fidgeting with his digit and gloves, it keeps you well occupied, concentrated in the repetitive moments as time passes.
John Price who <3
#i caved and wrote for him and ill write for my babygirl soap in due time as well.....#john price#john price x reader#john price x you#john price x y/n#cod x reader#cod mw2 fanfic
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Griddlehark Fics
I have read an absolutely insane amount of Griddlehark fanfics in the past few months so I figured I could make a like...list of all of my favorites that I bookmarked. I'm not sure if anyone will use this but if anything it will be for my own self-indulgence LOL. Just a heads up, this list WILL contain spoilers up to Nona the Ninth, so proceed with your own discretion. Anyway here we go!
(♥︎ = favorite!)
Short (<15k):
"By the Sword" by JeanLuciferGohard (2.6k)
The Reverend Daughter of the Ninth, Necrosaint, Ascended, the greatest bone adept in an Age, does one push-up, and collapses. Harrow does not beg for her cavalier. Harrow rakes her hair back and snarls, “Nav, I am going to unzip your cranial sutures. One by one. And zip them up again sideways.”
"Your Necro Questions Answered" by Magichorse (8.8k)
Syndicated columnist "Nav the Cav" offers a sympathetic ear to cavaliers across the galaxy and dispenses practical, no-nonsense, real talk advice on how to properly manage and care for your necromancer.
"A Lesson in Bones" by Magichorse (3.8k)
One of the laboratory trials at Canaan House compels Harrowhark to swap bodies with her cavalier. What will Gideon do with the power of the most talented bone adept in generations at her disposal? Nothing good, probably.
"Visions of Gideon" by tothewillofthepeople (13k)
Oh my god they were roommates...
"true love's kiss, or something equally nauseating" by corpsesoldier (4.6k)
She was where she needed to be. She was going to pull her necro out of this godforsaken tomb, end the game of musical bodies they were playing, and then everything would be all right. Harrow would be alive. And Gideon was going to give her shit for approximately the next myriad for not just taking what she’d offered and saving them a whole lot of trouble.
"The Big Warm Dark" by decalexas (haelstorm) (2.7k)
Gideon Nav knows how to swing a longsword, brandish a rapier, bridge the gap between life and death, punch the dead in the face, and maybe overthrow an Empire along the way. What she doesn't know how to do is reach for the girl who made all of this possible.
"carrion comfort, despair (not feast on thee)" by NotAFicWriter (5k)
Some time after Alecto wakes, Harrow and Gideon finally have a moment to speak to one another. Hearts are bared. Teeth are bared. Intentions are bared. It all comes at great personal cost (emotional honesty).
"never exhale all the way" by pigflight (1.2k)
Harrowhark paints Gideon's face.
"such an almighty sound" by CountingNothings (10k)♥︎
“I need you to marry me,” Harrow says, a propos of absolutely nothing that Gideon can see. And, uh, okay, this is not what childhood best frenemies say to each other upon discovering that both of their graduate programs have weird residence requirements. “What,” Gideon asks, “the fuck?”
"A Handsomely Dangerous Thing" by zoicite (1.5k)
Had Harrow ever looked at Gideon and felt pride before? Surely not. It sat like a tumor in her chest, a cancerous lump that had grown where it did not belong.
"How it didn't happen" by Nary (1.5k)
"How did you lose it?" Coronabeth asked, more softly than her sister's shrill voice. The group assembled at Canaan House barely knew her, and yet here they were, asking the most irritatingly personal questions, and acting as if they were being kind and thoughtful by prying into her secrets. "I dropped my pen into a vat of acid and reached in to grab it without thinking," Harrow said dryly. Coronabeth recoiled, screwing up her pretty nose. Ianthe looked unsure whether to believe her or not. Their meatslab of cavalier just stared blankly. "The Daughter of the Ninth House was blessed in this manner from her birth, as a symbol of her strength and power over the mysteries of necromancy," Ortus interjected. Harrow glared at him. "Oh," Coronabeth said, an expression of disgusting sympathy on her flawless face. "But then you would never have known who your soulmate was!" Harrow's glare intensified. "My soulmate is bones."
"Halcyon Nights" by Morike91 (10k)
It was hard to tell what was worse: feeling the full warmth of those unguarded honey eyes fall on Harrow, or watching them narrow in recognition and contempt, their warmth now hotter with something else. “What can I get you?” It has been at least four years since Harrow last heard the voice of Gideon Nav, but it was still as familiar as her right hand.
"I completely fucking hate you" by ClaraZorEl (7.5k)
In the coming weeks, Harrowhark learns an unfortunate great deal about Gideon Nav. The kind of porn she likes, the number of bread rolls she can fit into her mouth at once, that she always leans too heavily on her left leg when she fights but can do fifty-seven push-ups in a row without stopping, that her biceps rates 11/10 on the scale of good biceps, that her laugh rumbles like an army of skeletons, and most importantly, that she can’t fucking stand her. Gideon Nav is so grating that Harrow has no doubt she will be her undoing. OR Harrowhark Nonagesimus has been invited to Canaan University's ball. But to successfully represent her house, she needs a cavalier, and unfortunately, her only option is her least favourite barista from her least favourite coffee shop.
"A Thousand Teeth, Yours Among Them" by pipistrelle (7k)
"In the end, she poisoned Ortus; so it was Harrow Nova who walked out to the shuttle a half-step behind the Daughter of the Ninth, the chain of Samael Novenary wound about her offhand wrist, the black blade of the Ninth at her side."
"The Only Prayer We Know" by pipistrelle (12k) [Part 2 of "A Thousand Teeth, Yours Among Them"]
It's like a bad joke: two cavaliers (alive) and two necromancers (one dead) walk into a rebel faction of humanity, looking for a new life -- in every sense of the phrase. What they find is each other, and (in some cases) themselves.
"The Flames of Hell Are Warm" by silverapples (7k)
In which Harrow is a repressed evangelical Christian and Gideon performs burlesque in a lesbian nightclub. Feat. nipple pasties, chewing gum, and a steaming mug of gay coffee (wake up and smell it, Harrow).
"Necro Business" by rnanqo (1.6k) ♥︎
“Gideon,” you said carefully, “I will need to examine your mouth. Various structures, primarily the jaw, but also the lingual muscles—the tongue—” You stopped there. Your cheeks were going red, probably with indignity. “Yeah,” I said, a bit too loudly, “yeah, sure. Do it.”
"Holy Cross, Alaska" by softieghost (10k) ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎
Harrow meets Gideon. They go through it together.
"my love will be your armor" by TheKnightsWhoSayBook (2.3k)
"The princess has a right to bestow her favor on whoever she wishes to win a match," Gideon tells her. "Are you going to?" "Why would I? I don't want to marry him," Harrow answers bitterly. "Do you want me to win?" Princess Harrow will be engaged to the winner of the tournament, and her only champion is her useless bodyguard Sir Gideon Nav, who isn't going to save her. Unless...?
"The Meaning Of The Word" by pipistrelle (8.4k)
Harrow, along with a good percentage of Canaan University's necromancy students, has the flu. Gideon has a lot of feelings that she is in no way equipped to handle. It's a tough week.
"(i shine only with the light you gave me)" by sashawire (1.7k) ♥︎
God prods, gently, “Even just starting with their physical description, and we can go from there.” “Imagine,” you say, from somewhere outside your body, “the worst shade of orange you’ve ever seen in your life.” * Harrowhark receives her saintly title.
"i will learn to love the shears" by corpsesoldier (4.7k)
The avulsion trial left Harrow's hair in a sorry state and Gideon offers up her expertise with a blade. Or, Gideon gives Harrow a haircut.
"The Titty Texts: A Work of a Stupendous Titty Nature" by EleniaTrexer (3k)
Gideon accidentally sends Harrow boobs. And then just keeps on sending them.
"can we start over?" by breeeliss (10k)
Gideon needs a tutor. Harrow needs someone to get her out of college gym class. All in all, a pretty straightforward arrangement to make with your ex.
"Dark Mode Enabled" by senseoftheday (12k)
Tech Company AU in which a certain Sales bro with no filter decides to ruin Harrow's life (and feature roadmap) by initiating the cross-functional project from hell. At least, Gideon has the decency to work remotely, and Harrow's new office crush makes some pretty great coffee.
"deconsecrated graves" by emotionsandphenomena (4k)
Gideon and Harrow got out of the cult they were raised in. Okay, what's next?
"settle up in heaven" by liesmyth (3k) ♥︎
“Isn’t this arrogance, Harrow?” Kiriona says. “Think you could fix what God couldn’t?”
"Quoth the Maiden" by Sarsaparilla (10.9k)
The bold outlaws Nova Hawk and Gideon meet for the first time on a narrow log-bridge. But is it really their first meeting? Or: what if Robin Hood and Little John were both lesbians?
"twice in a blue moon" by sinshine (8.7k) ♥︎
Gideon snapped out of her depressing reverie and blinked at her. "That's a really good idea." "Obviously," said Harrow, and it was only a little bit condescending. "Step one, sneak out of the party. Step two, acquire the necessary items at a store. Step three–" Harrow gestured vaguely at the deer in Gideon's hands– "And step four, profit." [G&H rush to fix a smashed snow globe that Dulcinea made so that Cam doesn't kill them before the clock strikes midnight at their NYE party. The fact that Gideon is back in her hometown after a long time away and she and Harrow have unresolved romantic tension is secondary and definitely won't be a problem.]
"It Came From Planet Slut" by LockedTombMemes (8k)
Well. Evidently going undercover to an Idan society fling in order to deliver a message to a high-profile BoE agent was a tits-out kind of look.
"Apostate's Yuletide" by sinshine (12.6k)♥︎
Gideon raised one eyebrow comically high. She smiled easily, erasing any hint of the anxiety that Harrow might have sensed. "What's with all the questions today?" Harrow huffed indignantly and fidgeted with the blanket draped across her lap, worrying the frayed hem with her fingers. "I thought your ego would appreciate the interest." "Yeah, but it's weird coming from you. I'm used to you monologuing, not playing twenty questions." "Perhaps it's a Christmas miracle," suggested Harrow, with an expression so absolutely devoid of joy that Gideon couldn't help but laugh. [Harrow and Gideon burn down a church on Xmas.]
"when it's over" by Adertily (2.5k)
Harrowhark had sworn to herself to live to see the girl in the locked tomb awaken. Alecto has risen. Now God is dead, along with everyone who had ever been dear to her - and Gideon has returned as a distorted creature. The war is over. Harrow wishes she could be too. Or: A character study based on Harrow's suicidal ideation and Gideon's determination to never run anywhere unless she absolutely has to.
"Supernova Bloom!" by sinshine (13k)
"It's just for a week, and then you never have to see me again," said Gideon. "I don't have time to find anyone else." And, "Please." Slowly, Harrow took her hand off the door and cautiously turned around. Gideon watched a dozen unspoken questions flicker across her face. She voiced none of them, but eventually settled on an expression of grim resignation. "I suppose I could suffer you for a week." [Gideon needs help getting her new flower shop ready for the grand opening. Harrow needs cash.]
"I still need your teeth around my organs" by sinshine (7.8k)
Although she was a beloved Daughter and a talented necromancer, Gideon's greatest vice was that she dearly loved to fuck around and find out. Knowing this, perhaps it shouldn't have been as shocking when she lifted one of Nova's hands, flipped it over, and kissed her palm. [4 times Gideon kisses Harrow, 1 time Harrow kisses Gideon]
"cuckoo, cuckoo" by sashawire (1.2k)
What Wake gives it is not a name. To do so would be a moronic, unnecessary cruelty. But she does deign to give it the microscopic dignity of a title, a goal, a purpose. Bomb. Eighteen years later, in the rubble of a once-sacred home, Harrowhark Nonagesimus reaches up and touches Gideon Nav’s grit-covered, blood-rimed face, splits a laugh like the world is ending, and calls her “flower.” * Six times God's unwanted daughter was nicknamed, and once she wasn't.
"my teeth will only cut your lips, my dear" by sashawire (<1k) ♥︎
Gideon chomps into her tongue as hard as she can convince herself, stifling a very dignified squawk. Her eyes water, Emperor’s left tit that fucking hurts, but—it works. Blood weeps from the bite marks, creeping down the back of her throat, up into her nasal cavity, staining her teeth. Okay. She has blood in her mouth. Blood that, somehow, needs to get into Harrow’s mouth. * Step #6: Consume the flesh.
"fifteen percent concentrated power of will" by surreptitiously (9k)
Teaching someone to do a push-up is a love language, when that person is very annoying.
"GHAZAL WHERE I'M BEGGING YOU TO TOUCH ME" by igneousbitch (12k)
You had your body and I had mine, and it was a miracle. Your hands against my face were a miracle. The rest of your meat attached to your hands was a prayer answered and a promise broken, but we were flush and gasping and alive, and Harrow—I really thought you might’ve kissed me then. But I felt it happen. The way your breath suddenly stilled, and your body locked up beneath mine, remembering. How with splintering gentleness, you pushed me away. “I’m so sorry,” was the second thing you said upon waking. The first thing had been my name. Stranded in a safehouse on an Edenite moon, Gideon and Harrow try to put themselves back together.
"catch you on the flip side, sugar lips" by corpsesoldier (4.9k)
Maybe if Harrow's brain runs enough scenarios, she'll find a way to keep what she's lost.
"hand to heart, I swear" by corpsesoldier (5k)
Gideon has a broken heart, and there's only one necromancer who can fix it.
Medium (15-30k)
"If you're doing it right you'll break their ribs" by almostnectarine (22.4k)
"How do you know Nonagesimus has gone somewhere dangerous?" asked Isaac. "Have you wired some kind of alert system?" "It's, uh. It's on the schedule," said Gideon. "I just... forgot. Because of the bread." Nobody was convinced by this, least of all Gideon. "It's a Ninth House thing," Gideon went on, backing away with increasing desperation. This was a slightly more plausible explanation, if only because nobody wanted to look too closely at what fell under the awful skeletal-ribbed and rotting umbrella of Ninth House things. "Gotta go—!" And she was out the door, gone. But it wasn't a Ninth House thing, except inasmuch as it was happening to the only two representatives of the noble and decrepit Ninth House on this quite literally godforsaken rock. Gideon knew Harrow had gone somewhere dangerous—knew that Harrow was back in the lab where they had only just completed a horrible trial—because she could see it, clear as day: an awful overlay on her vision of that terrible dangerous room and a pair of terrible dangerous hands drawing some kind of ward next to the plinth. The hands were definitely Harrow's. This was definitely a problem.
"If Home Is Where the Heart Is (Then We're All Just Fucked)" by JeanLuciferGohard (17k) ♥︎
When Gideon Nav gets a call that her ex-girlfriend, who never bothered to change her designated emergency contact, is in the hospital, she goes against her better judgement and responds. Everything after that just gets more complicated.
"blue gray green lavender" by smolranger (29k) ♥︎
Laser Radial sailor Gideon Nav just wants pass her classes, win a few regattas, and keep her head down. FJ sailor Harrowhark Nonagesimus has grand plans to qualify for the Olympics, preserve her parent's legacy, and save her home town. Despite the ties binding them together, the two have kept their college lives carefully separate for two years. But when Harrow's helm, Ortus, suffers a concussion mid-way through the fall season, their carefully separated lives collide. Harrow needs someone capable of taking Ortus' place for the remainder of the season or her Olympic dreams — and Canaan College's entire sail team — are in peril. And Gideon is her only option.
"Daughters of Hungry Ghosts" by zoicite (24k)
Harrow and Gideon and times they have (and also have not) shared a bed over the years.
"Disney World, Florida" by softieghost (24.6k) [Part 2 of "Holy Cross, Alaska"]
After the events of Alaska, Harrow thanks Gideon the only way she knows how: devotion. -- Chapter 3: The journey concludes. More confessions.
"we've got a good thing goin' " by sinshine (14.6k) ♥︎
“Not to sound ungrateful, but being here makes me wish that you had left me for dead,” said Harrow. Gideon had been staring hard at the face of the fountain’s statue. She was pretty sure that it was carved in the likeness of Naberius himself, but she didn’t want to say it out loud and make it true. She shook her head and turned to Harrow. “Leaving me to live out eternity in your bony sock puppet of a body? Hard pass.” Palamedes and Camilla shared a look. It was the mutual understanding of two people who had been trapped in close quarters with the bickering of Gideon Nav and Harrowhark Nonagesimus for far too long. [Team 69 hide out in Babs's vacation home. Because it's not like he's using it anyway.]
"Cake by the Ocean" by zoicite (15k)♥︎
Okay, so the thing was, Gideon had always been shit at plans. She knew that. Everyone knew that, but this--she really didn’t think it would be this hard! Gideon’s voice was like the least memorable thing about her. Bargaining her voice for a well-shaped set of human legs--that really should have worked in her favor.
"careful fear and (un)dead devotion" by sinshine (23k)
[Gideon and Harrow wake up back in their own bodies but both of them are missing large parts of their memory. Camilla tries not to kill everyone.]
"who ya gonna call?" by igneousbitch (24k)
“Fret not, honeybun.” Gideon shook her red hair out of her eyes, belligerent. “I’m not totally sold on your whole skepticism thing.” “Well,” Harrow said, ignoring the nickname. She turned to the rest of the room, clearing her throat politely before addressing the empty air. “Ghosts, if you’re real, give us a sign. Make a noise. Move something. Send a shiver down our backs. Whisper softly into Nav’s left ear—” “I seriously fucking hate you.” - (Casual sex and paranormal investigation. Not necessarily in that order.) (or: the Buzzfeed Unsolved AU in which Gideon is ready to fight a ghost, and Harrow just wants to be haunted.)
Long(>30k):
"Beneath a Blue and Foreign Sky" by zoicite (35k)
Harrow has a decision to make.
"A Heart Full Of Sutures" by Rohad (40k)
All Gideon wanted was to get outside and ride her motorcycle. No part of that plan had included eight weeks in Canaan Medical Center with a broken Pelvis and the meanest little doctor this side of the eastern seabord.
"Midnight at the Mithraeum" by zoicite (66k) ♥︎
It'd been two years since Gideon Nav gathered her wine key and her gaming license and escaped The Locked Tomb, a speakeasy-style cocktail bar managed by the hateful Harrowhark Nonagesimus. Now, dealing tables at The Mithraeum Hotel & Casino, things were really looking up. So when Gideon scored a date with the most beautiful showgirl in the Gilded Halls of Ida, the last thing she expected was to wake up married to her old nemesis and former coworker. The story starts the night of Gideon's date and alternates between the events leading up to the wedding and the weeks that follow as Gideon tries to navigate life married to someone who claims to want nothing more than to forget she exists.
"Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea" by pipistrelle (90k)
Being the journal of Reverend Daughter Harrowhark Nonagesimus, chronicling the journey of the Emperor's warship Cenotaph on its hunt to slay an immortal Resurrection Beast. Or: the Moby Dick crossover AU that nobody asked for.
"The Darkest Night, The Brightest Light" by eternaleponine (50k)
Harrowhark has known for a long time that her home's financial situation is dire, and not getting better. She has plans to fix it all, but can't implement them until she turns eighteen in a few months. When her parents announce that the best (perhaps only) way to save Drearburh is to marry off its heir, Harrow realizes the timeline has changed and she needs to take action now to save her home... and herself. Desperate times call for desperate measures, after all. Enter Gideon Nav. Detested foe, and Harrow's only hope.
"putting your fist through a thick sheet of glass (i know you don't want to)" by oretsev (46k)
Harrowhark Nonagesimus and Gideon Nav have always been at each other’s throats, and the animosity has only intensified since the death of Harrow’s parents. But when a car accident leaves Gideon without any memories of her past, Harrow sees a chance at the clean slate she’s wanted for years. Becoming involved in Gideon’s recovery assuages some of the guilt, but as she and Gideon become closer and increasingly involved in each other's lives, Harrow worries that some of her secrets may be more than she can atone for.
Ongoing:
"semi-charmed kinda life" by strangedelight (182k+) ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎
Gideon asked questions. Harrow surprised her with answers. They reached an agreement; they decided to be smart, to be patient. Gideon made a promise, Harrow gave her one in return. Wait and see. OR the year is 1994, and Gideon and Harrow leave their small town for life in the city. OR team 69 roommates au only this time it's the 90s
"Intern the Sixth" by apocalypticTaco (33k+)
ADDRESSING THE HEIR TO THE NINTH HOUSE, OR PRESUMED EQUIVALENT: PALAMEDES SEXTUS, HEIR TO THE SIXTH HOUSE, PRESENTS HIS COMPLIMENTS TO THE NINTH AND REQUESTS A FORMAL ARRANGEMENT WHEREIN HIS MASTER WARDEN AND CAVALIER APPRENTICESHIP UNDER THE NINTH FOR FOUR YEARS IN EXCHANGE FOR THE SIXTH’S SERVICES. *Details to be discussed. Please turn to back page. Timeframe variable. Services and agreements variable upon the Ninth's request. An internship of this caliber is highly unprecedented and likely unheard of, but any information valuable to the Ninth and into the Tomb will remain undisclosed upon request; Primary experience and study is required as the Master Warden has already decided upon such being his final thesis prior to his end studies. No takebacks, no denials. Pleased to meet you. Palamedes Sextus, Heir to the Sixth and Master Warden and Camilla the Sixth, Cavalier Primary and Warden's Hand of the Library
TO THE MASTER WARDEN: FORMALLY REJECTED.
"What's Eating Gideon Nav?" by labyrinthineRetribution (40k+)
After a miserable fifteen years at Blessed Saint Anastasia's School for Girls, Gideon's luck finally changes.
"We Have Always Lived in the Apartment" by labyrinthineRetribution (171k+)
John looks up from his Jack and Coke in drunken curiosity. "What's with the face, Harrowhark?" he asks, genuinely concerned. "Contrary to popular belief," Gideon butts in, "her face just fuckin' looks like that, bitch." She tends to use "bitch" as liberally as commas when off her ass. "You're piss drunk," you shoot back. "And you, my good bitch, are just as contemptible as the day you clawed your way up from Hell." - It is Harrowhark Nonagesimus' birthday, and it only gets worse from there.
PWP (basically):
"I'll hold in these hands all that remains" by corvidlesbian (6.5k) ♥︎
“Do you want me to try?” Gideon said. “What?” “You got all hot and bothered without me trying. Do you want me to try?” Their newfound habit of cuddling gets interesting.
"sting of a wasp" by brightbolt, imperfectlyctor (42k) ♥︎
"You’re a virgin,” Gideon said, testing it out. "Huh." Harrow didn’t like the sound of that huh. She knew Gideon’s noises, and that was a thoughtful, sinister huh. That was the same huh she’d made before putting canned tuna in Crux’s work boots. Her eyes narrowed. “What.” Gideon cocked her head to the side. “Is there a reason you’re waiting?” There was no judgement in the question— only genuine curiosity. Perhaps it was this that made Harrow more inclined to answer. “I don’t have the time to look for someone new,” She shrugged. “And my available pool is… somewhat limited.” “Well,” Gideon said, with just a hint of conspiracy in those glittering golden eyes. “If you ever want to change that, you have my number.” What? What? Harrow blinked. “What?” Or: the five times Gideon and Harrow successfully bone, and the one time they don't.
"Suckle, Honey" by zoicite (7.9k)
“You crave my juice,” Gideon accused. “I do not crave your juice.” “Fuck, you do though. You went off to explore that study alone, without your cavalier, using a key that I nearly gave my life for, and then you snorted some powder that made you crave my juice! Harrow. I never would have let you sniff powder from a ten thousand year old jar.” This was untrue--Gideon probably wouldn’t have noticed Harrow breathing in a puff of jar powder until it was too late--but it sounded like something Camilla Hect might say, so Gideon went with it anyway. Camilla definitely would have stopped Palamedes from accidentally sniffing old as fuck Eighth House jarred juice addiction powder.
"Five Times We Hatefucked and One Time We Didn't" by rnanqo (8k)
“Fuck you,” you said. “Fuck me yourself, you coward.” You ran a hand through my hair, fisted it, and pulled my head up. From here I had a spectacular view of your weird blown-out seething expression, like I was the worst thing you’d ever seen. Also a view up your blood-crusted nostrils. Choice. “Maybe I will, Griddle,” you said. “Maybe I will stop fucking you over and start fucking you." Gideon and Harrow realize, abruptly, that their hatefucking is no longer hatefucking.
"a call to motion" by groundedsaucer (coasterchild) (10k) ♥︎
Harrow and Gideon watch a porno.
"put her canine teeth in the side of my neck" by stranded_star (8.8k)
Harrowhark Nonagesimus is getting a PhD and a divorce. Against her better judgment, she goes out to the bar to celebrate and meets an incorrigible, absolutely ripped salt-and-paprika butch who takes her home and gives it to her good. To her horror, it's the best night of her life, and she sneaks home with her tail between her legs. Harrow has more important things to worry about - like raising her daughter and building the next stages of her career. But when her daughter's favorite teacher, someone named Griddle, turns about to be the Gideon she met at the bar, she's forced to contend with allowing herself (and her daughter) to find the happy ending she never thought they'd have. Featuring MILF!Harrow, Teacher!Gideon, and a very amused Camilla Hect.
"The Wound That Swallows" by seelieunseelie (7.8k)
Harrow can make out an uncomfortable amount of detail about Gideon’s body beneath. Powerful, strong as ever, yet somehow vulnerable for its supplication below Harrow’s. “Are we gonna get this over with?” Gideon says in a voice softly scratchy. She blushes then when Harrow sits on the edge of the bed. “It will hurt,” Harrow says. “Yeah,” Gideon says. “I think I can handle it.”
#holy shit this is way longer than i thought it would be#uhm i literally gave myself a headache i sat here for like 3 hours doing this#that being said if you have any fic recs lmk LOL#griddlehark#gideon the ninth#harrow the ninth#nona the ninth#the locked tomb#tlt#tlt fic#tlt fanfiction#griddlehark fanfic#rec#long post
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