#no one gets her like hel does | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

munsonson · 11 months

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𝐇𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐『••✎••』

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘜𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘔𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘯/𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘰𝘯/𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.1 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞

The cookie smell wafted welcomingly into her nose as she pulls open the oven door, The chocolate chips were plentiful, and she could see it was hot enough that it would practically melt over your tastebuds. She smiles, slipping on an oven mitt before taking the pan out.

What was supposed to be a day of tears and emotional eating turned into a productive day of baking and dressing herself nicer than she even had for school, and that was because she had tried to dress to impress Eddie. The thought saddened her a little, but she remembered Steve and the night he had planned for them and it didn’t hurt so much anymore.

While the cookies cooled, she removed her apron and went to grab some tupperware to fit it in before she pulled the phone off the receiver and dialed. It rang for just a minute before someone picked up.

It was the typical pizza joint greeting until, “this is Gareth, what can I get started for you today?”

Her mouth ran dry and she suddenly lost the ability to speak. Gareth was there when Eddie had started talking about her and much like the other Hellfire club members aside from Dustin and Mike, he didn’t jump to her defense. Would he recognize her voice? How embarrassing would that be? Should she just play stupid?

“Hel-” She quickly slams the receiver back down and picks it up, dialing a different number.

“Harrington residence!” Steve sings.

“I need to know if this is progress or not,” she starts, twirling the cord between her fingers. “Say Eddie’s friend works at the only pizza place Hawkins has, is hanging up before saying anything a good or bad thing?”

“Well, it’s not great,” Steve said. “But A for effort, love, no worries! You’ll get better. Comes with time, everything is still a little fresh, I mean it happened just today at lunch.”

She nods in agreement, glad she once again turned to Steve with this.

“Man, does this mean I’m not getting my Sausage Lovers’ Pizza?” he complains jokingly.

“In short of you making the call and requesting only non-Hellfire Club members deliver it, probably not,” she says, stretching the phone as far as it could go so she could start carefully placing the cookies into the tupperware, still hot and soft in her hands.

“I can make it happen, just get over here already,” Steve groans.

“Okay, okay, I’ll only be a minute. See you there,” she huffs, hanging up the phone and placing the plastic top onto the container. With her cookies safe and secure, she turns off the oven and gives her kitchen a once over before retrieving her car keys and leaving.

The night was still very young, the sun hadn’t even disappeared yet, painting Hawkins in a heavenly orange glow. Her car was in its typical place parked at the far end of her lawn. She opens the door and places the cookies down before hoisting herself up into the driver’s seat.

Pulling out of her drive, she takes the familiar route to Steve’s home, one hand on the wheel and the other keeping the tupperware steady.

Things tonight were going pretty good thus far. She’d been trying to keep her mind off of Eddie and all the awful things he’d said at lunch, knowing if she’d dwell on it it’d just make her feel worse. She didn’t wanna focus on that, she wanted to think about the night ahead of her that she’d get to spend with one of her best friends. Eating junk food and watching all the silly movies he liked. That sounded a great deal better.

Her old car sputtered and coughed as she ascended the lean hill that led up to Steve’s house, still perched at the top with the same intimidating hedges, walls, and the glow of his swimming pool he still neglected to properly take care of. Even still, it’s a welcoming sight.

She parks off the driveway, not wanting to block him or his parents from coming in and out, switching off the car and taking the container of cookies up towards the front doors.

She doesn’t get the chance to knock before Steve opens it, grinning down at her.

“My, my, my, what brings you here?” he asks.

“You gonna invite me in or let me freeze on your doorstep?” she sniggers. He clears his throat and holds his hand out expectantly. Rolling her eyes, she shoves the container into his chest and pushes past him.

“I was actually offering you a hand inside, jerk!” he calls over his shoulder. He shuts the door and follows her into the living room where the fire was already going and he had the movie paused on the TV. Blankets were piled haphazardly on the cushions along with two pillows from his bed from upstairs and the coffee table was pulled suspiciously closer. She can’t help but smile. He knew her legs couldn’t stretch as far as his to reach it, so he’d adjusted it without telling her.

“Wow, you really go all out for a casual movie night with your friend,” she says, turning back to him. He blushes in embarrassment, but he still smiles. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble, Steve, honestly.”

“Give me a break, I needed the reason to strip my bed. Bed bugs,” he says dramatically, lifting the comforter and holding it threateningly towards her. She yelps and jumps out of the way. He starts laughing. “No, but...look, I wanted you to forget everything that happened earlier today. Show you how you should be treated, even if it’s just by little ‘ol me.”

Her heart swelled. “Thank you.”

He shakes his head as if to tell her not to worry about it. He takes the cookie container and places it on the coffee table, walking around and flicking the light switches so the only thing keeping their faces illuminated was his abnormally big television screen his father swung for two Christmases ago.

“The pizza should be here any minute,” he says conversationally as he goes to finally sit on the couch. He pats the spot beside him invitingly. “I don’t wanna have to pause the movie again, so pop a squat and entertain me for a little, would ya?”

She nods and goes to sit down, instantly raveling herself up in his comforter. It smelled like him, and she was sure if she accidentally nodded off she’d get a mouthful of Steve Harrington’s glorious hairs plucked off his head from tossing and turning throughout the night.

“What movies you gonna burden me with tonight?”

“Bold talk for someone who didn’t have a hand in sneaking them out under Keith’s careful watch with those nifty security cameras he’s got installed.” Steve said. “Nothin’ special, though. Figured I’d appeal to your frilly girly senses, managed to snag Sixteen Candles and Footloose. But, just to clear my eyes at the end, I also nabbed Gremlins.”

“Seriously?”

“Hey, I gave you Molly Ringwald and Kevin Bacon, gimme a little leeway.”

“Fair enough.”

Steve pats her head, turning so she’d face him. “How you feeling?”

“Fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yes,” she says defensively. He shakes his head, throwing an arm over the back of the couch and sneakily sliding his hand over her shoulders to tug her into his side. She doesn’t reject the contact. The closeness actually felt a little nice. He smelled like the video store. That was a strange thing to say, but Family Video did have a pretty distinctive aroma.

“He’s a dick,” Steve said again. “He doesn’t know great you are. And once he realizes it’s gonna be too late. You’re not boring, otherwise I wouldn’t have you here with me. Understand?” She nods and he kisses the crown of her head. “Stop getting mad over people who don’t have any kind of control over your life, alright? Especially not Eddie Munson.”

“Hard not to. God, it just sounds so pathetic. I want someone to be crazy for me, to want to constantly talk to me or think about me or wondering what I’m doing. And...I really wanted it to be Eddie for some reason. And there’s always wishful thinking, you know? Like you just hope and that’s enough because there’s just certain things you don’t wanna find out. And then...I did. I looked behind the curtain,” she rambled.

Steve doesn’t seem to know what to say to that. Really, she didn’t even know if she wanted him to add his two cents. That was just her flaunting her wounds like she was best at. Unfortunately for Steve, he was really easy to unload on because she knew he’d still be there after. It’s what made him so great.

“Is it narcissism? Or just loneliness?”

“Being human,” Steve gives the hidden third answer. “I feel shitty that he made you feel shitty.”

“Why?”

“Because you shouldn’t be feeling shitty at all. Of all people, you know?” Steve said with a shrug. “It just surprises me someone like him could do this to someone like you.”

“Someone like him?”

“Come on, don’t make me say it,” Steve scoffs.

“Well no...you brought it up, Steve, just tell me.”

“Well, Munson’s pretty...out there. I remember when I was in school, he’d just always be makin’ a complete fool of himself or he’d be mixing it up with the wrong crowds because he’s into that drug shit. He sold to me once, you know? But it was just weed.” Steve said. “When you told me you were seeing him I didn’t really believe it at first. That someone like him...could win over someone like you. It just didn’t make any sense. So the fact you’re taking this so hard, it’s...a little daunting.”

She didn’t know how to take that. Steve was clearly telling her she was way out of Eddie’s league and his words shouldn’t be bringing her as far down as they were. But that thought kind of angered her. She didn’t believe in leagues. She supposed the idea of it was just the remnants of King Steve still clinging to his subconscious, that some people were capable of attracting some people and not others. Or however they worked.

At the same time it was strangely comforting that he saw her this way, that...she was this unattainable being that someone like Eddie goddamn Munson could possibly think she was less than.

Before she could try to find the words to explain that to Steve, the doorbell rang. The pizza was here.

“I’ll get it,” Steve says softly.

For the rest of the night, they didn’t talk about Eddie again. She never got to tell him how she felt about his view on Eddie Munson and how he thought his words should(or, in her case, shouldn’t) affect her. Maybe that was a good thing. It seemed like whatever negative feeling about herself that she had, he had a way to counter it.

Nevertheless, she did have a really good time. Steve had kept things relatively normal, he made her laugh, he dropped a piece of pizza on the couch and she had to watch while trying not to laugh as he furiously dabbed it with one of his mom’s good towels.

He really did make her forget. Steve was a friend, a real friend to her tonight.

By now they were lounging, back to cable TV as she was slowly being lulled to sleep by the repetitive commercials and their incessant ramblings as they tried to get bored housewives to buy their products. Then Steve’s phone rang, startling them both into sudden consciousness.

“What the hell?” he grunts, stumbling to his feet. He was a little unsteady, having just been asleep. She reaches forward and stands him upright.

He makes it to the phone and practically rips it off the receiver.

“Harrington resi...” he trails off into a yawn. “Harrington residence....yeah....yeah, she’s here. Why? ...So? ....Relax, Henderson, I’ll just...Jesus.” He turns to her. “It’s for you!”

Confused, she gets up. She grabs the phone from him.

“Hello?” she says cautiously.

“Jesus, there you are! You realize how hard you are to track down?” Dustin’s voice said, irritated.

“Dustin? What’s the matter? Is everything okay?” she asks, worried.

“Yes! Yeah, it’s just....I didn’t see you at lunch, you know? I got worried. I tried to call you as soon as I got out of Hellfire about an hour ago and you didn’t answer, so...kind of called around until I could get ahold of you,” Dustin said.

Her heart swelled. This kid was a good one.

“What’re you doing at Steve’s?” he asks.

“Oh, um...Steve invited me to watch some movies and I fell asleep.” she said. That was technically the truth. She decided not to mention that the purpose of movie night was to help her forget Eddie’s cruel words.

“Oh, really?” Dustin asked, suddenly sounding like he was grinning. “I didn’t know you and Steve liked to host movie nights without us.”

“I don’t follow,” she said.

“Don’t let me interrupt you guys. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Lunch was pretty weird without you,” Dustin said.

“I doubt that,” she said, turning to give Steve an apologetic look. He shakes his head as if to tell her not to worry about it before trailing back towards the couch probably to fall back asleep.

“No, really. I think I prefer the dynamic with you around. Things get weird...um...Eddie today was weird.” Dustin said. She was tempted to to press on, get Dustin to come out and repeat what Eddie had said but decided against it. “You’ll still sit with us again Monday, won’t you?”

No. She definitely did not want to sit at that table again knowing the truth. What was worse, she couldn’t bare lying to Dustin. She really wanted to avoid talking about this, but it seemed like she didn’t have a choice.

“Actually, Dustin...I was there...today. You guys just didn’t see me,” she said. Before Dustin could question her now intentional absence, she continued, “I overheard what you guys were talking about.”

There was a long pause on his end.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what his problem is. B-But you heard Mike and I, right? How we...”

“You have nothing to prove, Dustin, this isn’t on you. And honestly I can’t even be mad at Eddie. He’s more than welcome to his opinion. I just don’t think I can sit there knowing he doesn’t think much of me. I’ll still be able to see you guys, I’m not gonna completely avoid...that would be childish. I think I’ll just sit with Robin o-or Nancy.”

“Maybe I can talk to him! Get him to apologize!”

“He has nothing to apologize for, Dustin, don’t do that,” she said sternly. “It’s fine, Dustin! This doesn’t change anything! I just think some space would be good.”

“Okay,” Dustin said, noticeably disappointed. “I gotta go. I have to meet Lucas and Mike tomorrow at the arcade. Maybe you can meet us there?”

“Yeah, maybe,” she said. “Night, Dustin.” He wished her a goodnight and, at last, she hung up the phone. She glances at the clock hung up on the wall, wincing at how late it was. She walks back towards the living area where Steve had made himself very comfortable in the little blanket and pillow fort they’d unintentionally made.

“Everything good?” he asks sleepily.

“Perfectly fine. Um...it’s getting late, Steve, I should go.”

“What? Why?”

“You probably wanna get some shut eye and I don’t need to burden you with my problems any longer. Thanks so much for tonight, though, Steve. It really helped.”

Steve scoffs, rolling his eyes. He lifts up the comforter he had covering the lower half of his body.

“Come on,” he said, leaving little room for argument. “It’s too late anyway. Robin crashes here all the time.” She hesitates for a moment, then moves around the couch to curl up beside him, surprised at how warm he was. He covers them both up and shuts his eyes again, as if this was completely normal. And why shouldn’t it be? They were friends. Close friends. Close friends had sleepovers.

She turned over to politely give him some space and not be all up in his business. She pulls the comforter up to her chin and shuts her eyes, trying to calm all of her swimming thoughts. Tonight was about forgetting Eddie Munson. Tonight was about fun.

With that, she slowly drifted off to sleep again.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜

Dustin hangs up the phone a little harder than he should have, clearly upset. Eddie, Mike, Lucas, and Jeff remained unburdened by his sudden hostility, all lazily lounging in Dustin’s living room as they watched his Friday the 13th copy he convinced Steve to let him rent despite his age.

“Who the hell was that that kept you so occupied?” Mike asked as he rejoins them, taking back his spot. Dustin doesn’t answer at first, accepting the bowl of popcorn offered to him by Jeff. After swallowing two handfuls, he gives it back and glares pointedly at Eddie. The metalhead doesn’t notice at first, too into the film to notice Dustin had even left in the first place.

“Steve was hosting a movie night, too,” he says instead, out of nowhere sporting a not-so-nice plot. He loved Eddie, respected him. He considered Eddie to be one of his best friends, but he knew he screwed up big time with her. And Dustin wanted him to get a little taste of his own medicine. “Wasn’t alone though.”

“Buckley keeping him company?” Eddie asked, eyes still not moving from the screen. So he was listening. Good.

Dustin smirks and looks at Mike. “No, you won’t believe who he’s got spending the night there with him.”

“Not my sister,” Mike said, looking green.

“What? No, man, she wouldn’t do that to Jonathan! No, it was...” Even Jeff had to look away from the movie.

“Steve and her? Really?” he asks.

Eddie, at last, seemed to finally look away from the TV screen. He didn’t look distraught, but he wasn’t exactly too keen on the news either. Good enough, in Dustin’s opinion.

“I didn’t know she and Steve were going steady,” he said.

“Eh, they’re not. Figure it’s a first date kinda thing. I actually think I interrupted something when I called,” Dustin said. Eddie’s eye twitches. “Decided to leave them to it. I’ll bug Steve tomorrow on the details when he goes to work.”

“Good for Steve,” Lucas chuckles from the beanbag, his smile quickly disappearing when Eddie’s head shot towards him. “I mean...wow...pretty surprising stuff. Uh, Jeff! Can I get some popcorn over here?”

“I guess that’s why she wasn’t there for lunch,” Dustin continued. “Think she wanted to go visit him at the video place.”

Eddie sits back in Dustin’s mother’s armchair, slowly moving his gaze back to the TV screen. He definitely didn’t look as comfortable as he was beforehand. Dustin knew she told him to not punish Eddie for this. But Dustin was notorious for not doing as he was told.

#`#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader angst #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader x steve harrington #eddie #stranger things #stranger things angst #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #hurt feelings #series

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targaryen-dynasty · 1 month

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EVENING DELIGHTS.

Modern!Aemond Targaryen x female!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; p in v, kitchen sex, choking, teasing, slight praise kink, slight breeding kink, modern au

WORDS: 1.7 K

NOTES: based on this request. Thank you so much, @chattylurker!

❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

The melody you hum is barely audible to anyone but you as you cut through the red bell pepper, preparing thin slices. It’s a bit of a daunting task with how much wine you’ve drunk prior, and you’d love to swap places with Aemond instead. He’s lounging on the sofa, a sleepy Vhagar nestled up against him with her head in his lap, watching a show about cars being tuned and raced against each other.

It appears he’s just as tipsy as you are, a slight stagger in his steps as he rises from his seat coaxed by your soft melody, and makes his way over to you. A lazy smile is draped over his chiseled lips, staring you down like a hunter does its prey.

You act unfazed at that because he could have come to help you sooner, but you still bite your bottom lip as he leans the weight of his body against your back. His scent immediately fills your nostrils, just as intoxicating as the warmth emanating from him.

“What’s cooking?” he drawls, bringing his hands to your waist.

You chuckle at his approach, and cut another piece of the bell pepper. “Just making some oven roasted vegetables.”

Aemond hums, and proceeds to rub his hands over your sides. His nose drags against the side of your face, inhaling your scent and making it impossible for you to focus on the task at hand.

Bringing a slice of bell pepper up to his lips for him to eat, you hope to distract him just a bit so you can finish the slicing. “Did you know your brother proposed to Floris today?” you ask, chuckling as you hear the content chewing right next to your ear. “Hel called today while you were at work and told me.”

Swallowing, he quickly grabs another piece before you can swat his hand away, and stuffs it into his mouth. “He did?” he mumbles around the vegetables he’s been chewing, licking his lips and grinning. One of his hands leaves your waist and trails down to wrap around your thigh.

“My big brother finally got down on one knee, huh?” he says amusedly, squeezing your thigh. “And what did she say?”

You slightly push your hips back against him, and shoot him a warning glance as his hand travels lower. “Of course she said yes,” you reply. “I called her immediately. And apparently, they plan to get married in Highgarden.”

The glare makes him chuckle, and his hand moves back up to wrap around your waist instead, using both to pull your lower body against him, your hips pressed together now. “Highgarden? That’s cute.”

Both his arms band around your body now, and you fully abandon the cutting board the moment one hand comes up to cup your breast. Your breathing turns heavier at his actions, although you try to act unfazed again to continue cutting the rest of the vegetables. There’s a bit of a silence between you, and, while Aemond gently squeezes your breast, he seems to be deep in thought.

“So… Do you actually like me?” he asks, pressing his lips to the sensitive spot right behind your ear.

His question makes you roll your eyes, and prompts you to look at him from over your shoulder. “We have been together for seven years, Aemond. We’re getting married next year. What the hell do you think?”

The grip on your waist and breast tightens but is far from being uncomfortable, just enough to keep you standing where you are, tightly pressed against him. As he feels your hips push back against him again, he smirks and presses a kiss to the crook of your neck.

His voice is much more breathy and husky when he speaks again, “good point.” A quick, sloppy kiss finds the spot beneath your ear, allowing him to nibble on your earlobe in the following.

You giggle softly at that, and try to stop your body from reacting to his proximity. You feel his hot breath against your neck and his warm body completely enveloping yours. It makes your stomach churn, in a good way. You’re still tipsy, feeling yourself relax into him more and more. “You’re distracting me, Aem.”

He lets his hand slide down your body, one finding your ass to grope it and the other coming to rest just shy above your mound of venus. Kissing your neck again, his breath comes out even warmer than before. “You are so distracted by a little kiss?”

Snorting, you’re not able to deny it, especially because you’re so distracted by his touches. You want to shove him away to finish the cooking, but also want to hug him to keep him even closer. With your breathing growing labored, your body reacts to yours being pressed against each other like that.

Warmth spreads in the pit of your belly, and you can’t help but moan as his fingers trail a little bit lower. “Shut up…” you try to keep your composure, wanting your voice to remain tough, but to no avail. There’s a tremble audible in it.

Aemond clearly knows how much he turns you on, and can’t resist the urge to tease you. He chuckles, and proceeds to cup your clothed pussy. A little smirk spreads across his lips, his grip not wavering once. “Make me,” he whispers.

The heat inside of you builds up faster the longer you stay in that position. You thought you could hold it back, but at this point it’s just impossible. You’re tipsy, the alcohol just makes it worse. He has you right where he wants you, and you know that. Your cheeks are hot, and your body trembles under his hands.

You push the cutting board and vegetables aside to clear the countertop in front of you, and Aemond takes that as his cue to flat on the counter. “Didn’t think you’d be such a tease today,” you gulped, the words accompanied by a gasp as he yanks down your leggings and thong.

Scrambling for hold, you plant your palms flatly on the surface, supporting yourself as you feel the tip of his cock prod against your entrance. You’ve been wet enough to make it easy for him to push inside in one, swift thrust, filling you right to the brim.

There’s no need for him to give you time to adjust to his size, having had him in the morning already. The pace he sets up isn’t as reckless as his usual pounding, given the position and his legs being slightly bent at the knees.

His cock drives deeper and deeper, coaxing moans and whines to tumble over your lips, and where the cutting of bell peppers could’ve been heard before, it’s now replaced by the sounds of skin slapping against skin, his strained grunts and your moans.

“So sensitive,” he grunts, pounding into your needy cunt. The tip of his cock repeatedly brushes your sweet spot, pushing high enough to knock the air out of your lungs and make you lose yourself.

His hand comes up to clasp around your throat. He applies just a bit of pressure, merely meaning to hold you upright and steady to make it easier for him to use you to his liking. His lips press to the side of your face again, and, apart from his heavy breathing fanning over your hot skin, you also hear him mumbling praises.

Heat builds in your belly as his balls slap against your sensitive bud, sending shivers up your spine and you straight into a frenzy.

“Who needs dinner when I can have this perfect pussy?” he rambles, speaking more to himself than you.

Aemond digs his fingers into your hip and pulls you back against him with each thrust, meeting his cock halfway.

“Gods, I… I–”

“You’re gonna cum for me already, baby?” he rasps into your ear.

With his hand now applying a good bit of pressure to your throat and his heavy balls slapping against your clit, you feel yourself getting lightheaded as your release washes over you suddenly.

Your walls flutter and spasm around him, arousal leaking from around his thick girth and soaking his gray sweatpants. Grinding back against him, you ride out your high in rhythm with his thrusts as he fucks you through it.

Each rut of his hips makes your eyes journey to the ceiling. There are hiccuped breaths spilling from your mouth, and you can’t do more than to hold onto the countertop, bracing yourself for his relentless pounding.

“That’s, fuck, that’s it, mhh,” he hums, the relief in his voice audible.

With a stutter of his hips and a raspy groan escaping his throat, his cock eventually spills deep inside of you, coating your walls. He pounds it into you with deliberately slow thrusts, the last spurts of his warm release filling you to the brim.

Only as both your aftershocks slowly subside does he move, pressing a trail of kisses from your ear down to your shoulder. His hand slides from your hip underneath your shirt, pulling it up slightly to cup your breast.

With a low whisper, he sighs. “Can’t wait to marry you.” He kisses your shoulder once more before moving his lips up to your ear, and he can’t help but grind his hips against yours, his cock growing flaccid again. You mewl at that, pushing back against him. “And I can’t wait to put a baby in you.”

At his words, your body feels hot all over. The thought of him getting you pregnant makes your knees buckle, and you feel like you’ll explode at any given moment.

Your head tips back against his shoulder, and you breathe in quickly before replying, your voice trembling and husky. “Neither can I.”

Hands letting go of the counter, you push him back enough to get him to pull out of you, allowing you to turn around to face him. Your hands move to the seam of his black t-shirt, pulling it over his head. Marveling at his alabaster skin, and the slight imprint of his muscles, following them with your index finger, you look up at him through batted eyelashes. “I’m gonna stop taking the pill soon.”

That seems to stir something in him, and before you can say something else, he grabs your body to throw you over his shoulder. The fit of giggles that erupts dies as soon as you hear his words and note the direction in which he’s walking, immediately replaced by anticipation and excitement.

“I wonder how soon I can get you pregnant.”

General Taglist: @belladonnasorcerer @valeskafics @connorsui @arcielee @watercolorskyy @black-dread @darylandbethfanforever9 @croatianprincess @snowystark @moonlightfoxx @melsunshine @urmomsgirlfriend1 @fan-goddess @at-a-rax-ia @tsujifreya @nothingqueens @ashovertheriver @bbgmonsay @doublesparrows @thetaygaryen @wintrr13 @winter-soldier-101 @thought--bubble @multyfangirl @dixie-elocin @zaldritzosrose @userhotd @delulumhaggy @wolfdressedinlace

Aemond taglist: @persephonerinyes @dr-aegon @schniiipsel

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thegreatwicked · 29 days

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This obviously needed its own post and here it is, a collection of blog posts and resources I have found and used for my own writing, I hope they help you too! Go forth and write that spice!

The Smut Writers Dictionary By @maybeeatspaghetti Seriously, how many different way are there to write cock? Does anyone else wonder if they've used the word 'lips' too many times? Well, this is a good place to start!

The Ultimate Guide to Writing Smut This is the first one I found and I go back to it frequently! There's also some great information about specific areas of sex that may not be common knowledge for first time writers!

How to Write Smut By @urfriendlywriter Another great source of information from different verbiage to use and a few tips to hel you along (giggity)

Smut Thesaurus By @prurientpuddlejumper just what it sounds like and you can never have too many words at your disposal.

6 Steps to Writing Better Sex By @chaoschaoswriting If you're at a loss or just want some more help this is antoher fantastic blog!

Writing Prompts NSFW By @seidenbros Need some dialogue? Or a story idea? Have a look!

#100 NSFW/Smut Dialogue Prompts By @a-cure-for-writers-block More? More. This is also a fantastic writing blog with lots to offer!

Intimate + Sexual Headcannon Questions By @petalsprompts Good questions to ask your characters to get to know them better and make more well rounded characters!

Smut & Mature (18+) Master List By @pendarling A great list dialogue prompts, scenarios, and helpful bits!

Poly NSFW Alphabet By @smaoineamhsalach Another great way to get to know your characters and maybe a handful of ideas for story ideas.

Kink Prompts Another from the previous blogger above and I didn't know what half of these are! I'll work on a kink dictionary next!

Writing Smut 101: Overcoming Smut Shame @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 There's a lot to be said for this particular subject! It's hard to write stuff like this, so how do you get over it? Start here!

How to Write a Kiss Scene By @youneedsomeprompts Yes!!! I still struggle with this one! There's a thousand ways to kiss, find your favorite!

Smut Oneliners By @deity-prompts you can never have enough one-liners!!

How to Write a (Great) Sex Scene Another great article for new smut writers

9 Tips for Writing Steamy Scenes More tips to help you wirte good steamy stuff!

How to Write Erotica and a Damn Fine Sex Scene A WEALTH if information on writing, structuring, and helpful tips!

@saradikahas a fantatic blog with graphics for you to use to add some fun to your posts. Things like MDNI Banners, 18+ Content Warnings, Support Your Favorite Writers and Reblog banners! They are free to use but she does ask that you reblog her stuff if you do! She's also a very talented writer and she writes some AMAZING Din Djarin stories!

Gay Sex Positions Guide This is a WONDERFUL adition and thank you so much @b7bubby for bringing this to my attention, I didn't have any resources for writing M/M fairings but this is a much needed addition to the spicy community! i've never written an M/M pairing and I feel like such an idiot for overlooking the need for a resource like this!

If you find any other great smut writing resources feel free to tag me so I can add them to this list! Good luck with your writing! Now go write that story and LET THE SPICE FLOW!!!!

#writing resources #smut writing #smut writing prompts #smut resources #i need more smut in my life #smut #smut writing resources

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urgonnaneedabiggership · 11 months

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Host of a Ghost

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara (Spiderman: Across The Spiderverse) x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language. Spoilers (Miguel's backstory is mentioned). Mild violence. Very, very light mention of a foiled SA (not to reader). Some angst.

Word count: 4.1K

Short A/N: This man has become my hyperfixation since I watched the movie and I'd been wanting to write something with him and today finally the muse came to me do I deliver you this decent-sized thing I wrote. Hope you like it <3

PART II

“Unusual” wasn’t a word you would’ve used to describe your life at all. At least not until about a year ago.

It was unusual to find a spider with such an odd color palette roaming your apartment since you were used to more dull-colored typical critters. It was also unusual that you didn’t panic enough to turn the apartment upside down to look for the thing before it bit you, but there was too much work to do, and a million notes from Dr. Connors to go over. It was equally unusual that you hadn’t rushed to the hospital the minute you noticed the tiny marks on your thigh.

“I mean, if it was really dangerous, it would have hurt more.” Was your reasoning to ignore it and keep scanning the pages before you. Nobody said pursuing a Ph.D. was without sacrifice.

By the time you tried to stand up to make more coffee just to end up collapsing on your kitchen floor, it was much too late.

From then on, “unusual” was pretty much every day’s motto.

Having a nightmare that night about being suffocated and unable to escape just to wake up hanging upside down and wrapped in sticky shit was the first clue. Turns out you were actually able to produce said sticky shit at will in the shape of a thin thread, then you discovered the wall-climbing abilities, and before you knew it you were roaming the city at night trying to get comfortable threading between the tall buildings, running across rooftops and challenging yourself to climb this or that building as fast as you could. You felt indestructible, alive. It was wonderful.

You’d never forget the night of your first save either. For several reasons.

It was an ordinary night, right before returning to your apartment, when a violent shiver abruptly ran up your spine and every cell in your body commanded you to stop. When you did, a scuffle in a nearby alley caught your eye. A young girl was violently shoved against a wall by a man who pressed his hand against her mouth. The same second his hand came dangerously close to the zipper of her jacket, you practically tackled him from above and pinned him against the ground, having no clue of what to do besides throwing punches at his face until you knocked him out. A whimper coming from a dumpster behind made you realize you had an audience.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath, remembering your uncovered face, the only solution at hand is to wrap your scarf around your head to try and hide as much as possible, “Oh god this feels too much like cultural appropriation for my taste,” You kept nervously rambling to yourself as you slowly approached the dumpster.

“Um…hi,” You greeted, “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

Being met with nothing but silence, you were about to leave when a soft voice replied.

“No. He didn’t. Thank you so much.”

“Is there…I don’t know; is there somebody you want me to call?”

“I want to call my mom.” She replied, her voice still shaking, “He took my phone.”

“Right. Phone. Okay.” You quickly made your way back to the unconscious man and pawed his clothes looking for it. He let out a groan in protest.

“Yeah it doesn’t feel right, does it asshole?” You muttered as you retrieved it from one of his pockets. Then you shoved him onto his stomach to tie his hands and legs behind his back before returning to the girl.

“Here. It still works,” You just held it over the dumpster, seeing nothing but her pale hand as it reached out to take it before you took a few steps back.

“No, wait,” She immediately pleaded, “Please don’t leave me alone with him.”

“Like hell I am. I’m staying right here.”

So you waited with her until the police arrived. However, the minute you saw the flickering lights and heard the approaching siren, you retreated into the dark part of the alley and climbed onto the nearest building to escape through the rooftops.

It wasn’t until you were back in your apartment that you realized you’d been smiling all the way home. Carefully shutting the window behind you, you let yourself fall onto the couch and screamed joyfully, the pillow muffling the sound.

She was okay. A person was okay because you could intervene and do something about it.

However, a new wave of shivers flooded your veins so abruptly that you sat down immediately.

“Yeah, I know how that feels,” Came a feminine voice from the unlit kitchen, “Being able to help, I mean.”

You scrambled to your feet and started walking backward. However, the voice didn’t remain hidden for too long. A woman emerged from the shadows, dressed in red with a yellow hairband pushing her near-afro hair back. She greeted you with a soft smile.

“Your reflexes need polishing,”

“My…?” You repeated, dumbfounded.

“And you have to learn how to fight properly. Randomly throwing punches isn’t always going to cut it,”

“I’m sorry, who are you? Why are you in my apartment? Were you following me? Do you know about…?”

“Whoa, slow down, kid. I know you have questions, and I might be able to help you with that. But you’re going to have to come with me.”

“Alright, I’ll…let me just get my car keys,”

“Oh, sweetie,” The woman said in between laughs, not malicious but truly amused, “You have so much to learn,”

You were starting to wonder why she had elongated that “o” like that until, after pressing a few buttons on the device around her wrist, something that you would’ve described as a “black hole on LSD” erupted in the middle of your living room.

That night you learned that her name was Jessica Drews and that she was completely right about you having so much to learn. With a four-second-o.

Over the following months, you became capable of things you didn’t think possible. Walls that took you a minute to climb became easy obstacles that didn’t take up more than fifteen seconds of your time, your fighting skills had also improved exponentially under Jess’s tutelage, and of course, going from a life where you could count your friends with less than one hand to being constantly surrounded by amazing (no pun intended) Spider-People who not only understood the changes you were going through but warmly welcomed you into their circle was more than you could’ve asked for.

Well, perhaps some more willingly than others. And by others you meant him.

He, who seemed to be always around, silently watching but never intervening.

He, who despite being allegedly “always locked up in his lab” always seemed to personally oversee your training since day one.

Whom you’d tried to greet as gleefully as you did the others just to receive, if anything, a vague nod of acknowledgment. In your first three months, you had spoken maybe four times. Well, you had. He only hummed, nodded, or answered in monosyllables. You knew better than to waste your energy with people like that, but for some reason you were unwilling to just accept Miguel O’Hara didn’t like you and that was that.

“For some reason” being code for “I’m one second away from fainting every time he as much as looks in my direction,”

You weren’t a child, for crying out loud. You were aware that no matter how cold, distant, and seemingly indifferent the leader of your new team was, he was an insanely attractive man. Even with the fangs…no, especially with the fangs, for some reason. His whole aura that screamed “completely-inaccessible-frighteningly-powerful-twice-my-size-man” had you harboring a huge crush on him within two months of meeting him. So painfully unrequited that it was embarrassing. Just the fact he could ignore your greetings and surely never think twice of it but you would spend the rest of the day wondering what you could’ve possibly said to make him at least say “hello” back made you want to scream into a pillow until your throat burned.

It was right up there with the time he’d muttered ‘much better’ when he saw you land a kick you’d been practicing and those three seconds kept playing on your head for the rest of the week.

The night of your first mission you decided you were going to prove your worth, not to your crush but to your team leader.

“I told him you’re ready,” Jess said with a proud smile, “He’s going to call you in sometime throughout the day to let you know where you’ll be going and with whom, probably me. How do you feel?”

“Excited, I guess,” You replied, pressing your lips together anxiously, “Also nervous. I don’t want to screw this up.”

“With me as your mentor? That’s unlikely,” Jess replied with a wink, giving you an encouraging pat on your shoulder as she walked away.

However, the day continued normally. You did some assigned tasks here and there, which mostly included helping Spider-Byte to keep everything running smoothly given your background in the tech field. You grabbed lunch, then thought it would be a good idea to train some more before going away.

You were beginning to lose all hope when, as you leaned down to fix some wiring, Lyla popped right beside your head and called your name so loudly you hit your head against the metal and hissed. One year and still you hadn’t used to the way she appeared out of nowhere.

“Oops, sorry,” She promptly apologized, “Well you’ll have to walk that off, Miguel wants to see you STAT.”

“How am I supposed to walk a head injury off, Lyla?” You joked, rubbing your forehead as you rushed across the halls with the holographical figure floating after you.

“Not in my code,” She replied using her usual excuse.

When you walked into his working space, Miguel’s back was turned to you as he used a digital pen to do some annotations on what looked like blueprints of new equipment. After he didn’t react to your presence for a few seconds, you hesitantly walked closer and cleared your throat.

“That looks nice. Is it a new suit?” You asked, as always, trying to start a conversation.

“I just received an alert about the…” He stopped and sighed as if saying the silly nickname was physically painful to him, “…the Go-Home-Machine. It said there was a small power overload since we sent back that Vulture from the 192-011 Universe.”

“Yeah, but Byte and I are already working on that and it should be fully functional by tomorrow morning,” You replied, a bit confused as to what that had to do with your mission.

“Good. Let me know as soon as it’s fixed.” Miguel hastily replied, not even turning to face you until a whole minute passed and he realized you were still standing there. Even then, he just barely turned his head.

“That’s all, (Y/N). Thank you.”

That’s all? What do you mean that’s all?

“Was there something else you wanted to do?” He asked. Shit. You’d said that out loud.

“I…Jessica told me that I’m ready to go on a mission and that today you…”

“I said I would think about it, and I have.”

He fell silent again. No matter how attractive he was, you were starting to truly get pissed at his stupid theatrical antics.

“And?”

“And the answer’s no. You’re not ready yet.”

That felt like all the disappointments in your entire life added up and multiplied by ten. Especially because of how easily he dismissed you despite being aware of how hard you’d worked, how many nights you decided to forgo hours of sleep just to train and polish every movement until it was as close to flawless as you could.

“Not ready yet?” You practically hissed in a voice you almost didn’t recognize. Hell, it was enough for him to put down the pen. “Not ready yet? That kid Pavitr has been here for what? A month? And he’s already going off on missions. Alone, I might add!”

Unsurprisingly, he did not answer.

“And he’s very, very good, I’m not saying he isn’t. But I’m just as good. And more experienced, both at being here and at being a Spider-Person. I have completed every training scenario you’ve thrown my way, worked my ass off to understand every bit of information regarding interdimensional traveling, and studied the protocol to control anomalies, what is it that you still need me to prove?”

He took a deep breath. So deep that his shoulders rose, flexing the muscles of his back in such a way that if you hadn’t been so angry, you would’ve been too distracted to keep arguing. Even with your blood boiling, you couldn’t help but stare and feel your stomach tense at the sight.

“Do you like being part of this team, (Y/N)? Do you like training in our headquarters, having access to all our information, and maintaining contact with the other members of this society?”

“Of course I do,” You replied immediately. Slowly, Miguel turned around to face you completely and walked towards you, descending the two small steps that separated you until he stood towering over you. Even if your knees were about to give in to this unexpected closeness, this wasn’t the time to fold. You held his glare defiantly and folded your arms in an attempt to mentally guard yourself against him.

“Then I suggest you get in line and do as you’re told,” He said in a low voice. But it wasn’t threatening, or condescending. It was an odd, flat tone. Tired, perhaps. Almost as if…as if he was reprimanding you against his will.

He was almost unbearably close. You could feel his breath hitting your face. If right then all logic flew out of the window and you stood on your tiptoes you could…

“I’ll do that when you’ve earned my respect, and I have a policy of reciprocity when it comes to respect, Miguel. I’ve been in line for a year, I’ve listened, learned, and improved so much that if you’re still looking down on me, then it’s your problem, not mine. And no self-righteous, big-headed…”

“Just get out,” He cut you off, once again turning his back to you and walking towards the blueprints again.

“Oh no, I’m not finished…” You insisted, trying to follow him. However, as soon as you gave one step forward he turned around so violently that you stumbled backward and stared at him with something you hadn’t felt towards him up until then: fear.

“Yes, you are,” Was his only reply. As dull as the others.

While you could only see his face for a moment before he walked past you and left the room, something about his expression stuck with you even hours later, when you laid on your bed at night and combed through the scene over and over. You thought he would be fuming, maybe even shocked that you’d dared to talk to him like that. The last thing you expected was for him to look…upset. Hurt, even. The mere thought of you being able to hurt Miguel O’Hara was as ridiculous as imagining a goldfish fighting back against a shark. Still, you realized that even if you thought he was in the wrong, you felt bad about how things went down back there. You would never understand what being the leader of hundreds of super-powered people was like. Commanding each and directing their particular abilities as best as he could all while maintaining a vigilant eye on endless strings of causes and effects because he knew firsthand the consequences of being careless with them.

Even if he had made a mistake with you and of course you still wanted to address it later, right then all you wanted was to apologize.

And so, not even an hour later you were roaming the halls of the HQ, your heart beating furiously as you got closer to his quarters, wondering what you could even begin to say.

When the automatic doors slid open, you stepped inside and turned back to look as the doors closed behind you. Well, no turning back now.

“Miguel?” You called, looking around the large room, pondering whether a first-name basis was okay. After everything that had happened, going back to Mr. O’Hara sounded terribly stupid. Then your eyes landed on the row of screens where he spent most of his time. An extremely ill-timed wave of curiosity filled your chest as you approached them, taking another look at the seemingly empty room before stepping onto the platform. Getting bolder, you reached out your hand and brushed your fingertips across one of the screens. It immediately came to life with a blue glow, startling you and making you curse under your breath. You were about to look for a button to switch it off when a video started playing automatically from where he had left off. He was in it, holding a young girl. Miguel wasn’t just smiling. He was laughing. His laugh was exactly as you’d pictured it. Not particularly loud, but hearty and low. He had the kind of laugh that made you unwittingly smile as well as a newfound sympathy filled your chest as tears filled your eyes when you pictured that being taken from him just like that. How could one have a family, and then one day be completely alone and keep going?

With a renewed disposition to make things better between you, your hand reached out for the switch that would turn the screen off until a third voice piqued your interest. It belonged to whoever was holding the camera.

“Would you please stop hoarding her? I deserve some mother-daughter time too! Here, hold this thing and give her to me,” The voice said between laughs. There was something about that voice that made an extremely cold shiver run down your spine.

“Fine, you’re right. Bueno pues, mijita, ve con mamá, ¿quieres ir con mamá?”

The picture became blurry as the camera switched places with a giggling Gabriella, who could be briefly seen stretching her arms toward the third figure.

“Alright,” Came Miguel’s voice again, “But when I turn the camera towards you I want both of you to blow Daddy a kiss, can you do that for me?”

Without waiting for an answer, he turned the camera around.

And then you found yourself staring into your own eyes. They weren’t quite the same shade as yours, and “your” hair was styled differently. And “you” had freckles. But otherwise, it was like staring into an interdimensional mirror. Then, your voice spoke.

“Okay sweetie, let’s humor him, shall we? Blow Daddy a kiss. And another one from me because now I have to use both arms to hold you, my big girl!”

Miguel laughed again at the way his daughter’s face lit up at being called a “big girl”.

“¿Saben que las amo a las dos, verdad?”

“And Gabriella loves you too. I think you’re…nice enough.”

“(Y/N), I don’t think you marry somebody for ‘nice enough’, mi amor,”

“I love you too. Against my better judgment.”

With one last interrupted laugh, the video ended, and, in a cruel irony, the once again black screen showed your actual reflection.

Except this time, it wasn’t the only one. With a loud gasp, you turned around. After seeing him in that video, it became much more evident that the Miguel in it was nothing but a memory of the past. And in a matter of seconds, everything shifted into place like a gloomy puzzle. His expression was unreadable, though he wasn’t even looking at you. His eyes were fixed on the empty screen.

“I wasn’t supposed to ever see that, was I?” Was the only thing that came to your mind after a lengthy, tense silence.

“What good would it have done?” He replied, almost numbly.

“So that’s why you’ve always…stared?” You kept pushing. Against your better judgment, you thought.

“It was at first,” Came his only response. Like always, it seemed like you would have to tear the answers off him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, turning your head to look for his eyes. Even then, something warm filled your chest. Something that made your heart beat so quickly you felt as if it would stop at any moment, and it spread all over you no matter how much you tried to fend it off. Hope.

Surprisingly, this time he caved in and looked at you. Still, the answer never came. For the first time in all the time you’d known him, Miguel O’Hara was at a loss for words. And that said more than anything he could’ve come up with.

“And you expect me to believe that, by sheer chance, you happened to catch feelings for somebody who is practically your wife’s interdimensional twin?”

“It sounds so much worse when you say it like that,” Was that a hint of a smile? An attempt at a joke? One year and the only time he’d bothered to be decent to you was when you were talking about how much you looked like her?

With an annoyed look, you moved away from him and started to make your way to the exit.

“Do you think I wanted this?” He spoke rather loudly, his whispers going out of the window as he started to follow you across the room.

Miguel O’Hara following you to keep you from leaving. Just hours before you would’ve died of happiness at the mere thought of this scenario. Right now, your brain was a flurry of thoughts and emotions that you didn’t know how to handle.

“I was doing an amazing job at keeping my distance. Watching you from afar, seeing you laugh, grow, win everybody over with that awfully big heart of yours, and still I reined myself in,” He continued, “Today’s the perfect example. You thought I didn’t respect you, for fuck’s sake! I respect you so much that every single day I have ignored you and pretended you are nothing but another face in the halls. Damn it, (Y/N), I couldn’t even look you in the eye when for months you’ve been all I’ve wanted. All because I didn’t know if I loved you or what was left of her. And I didn’t want you to get involved in shit that’s mine to figure out.”

Hearing him not only withdraw his previous statement of you not being capable of doing things and accepting the problem was his and not yours made you stop in your tracks.

Fine, the sudden (though odd) love declaration had something to do with it too.

“So you don’t think I’m not ready?” You asked, turning around and even taking some steps towards him.

“Are you serious? I’ve watched you closely all these months. You learn in days what others do in weeks. You push yourself way more than so many of our members and yet I’ve never, ever seen you become overconfident. Today you never said you knew everything. You said you knew enough.”

This time, it was you who remained silent. There was something else you wanted him to elaborate on, and from the look in his eyes, you realized he knew damn well what it was.

“You were right. The problem wasn’t yours. It was mine all along. I could manage to push you away and keep my feelings at bay. But knowing that you were eventually going to go out there and take so many risks...worst case scenario, you could get hurt or not come back at all. That was too much for me to handle, s’all.”

“Were you afraid of losing me…?” You started to ask just for him to interrupt you.

“Yes. Very much.” However, you lifted a hand to stop him. You weren’t finished.

“Were you afraid of losing me, or were you afraid of losing her again, Miguel?”

Three seconds later, when no answer came out of his mouth, you were about to turn around once again when he rushed and stood in front of you. For a second, you thought he was going to grab your shoulders to keep you in place. Not wanting to come off as if he was forcing you to stay, his hands just hovered on both sides of your shoulders without touching you.

“Listen, she wasn’t a picky eater like you are. But I swear that woman never drank enough water and every time I see you there’s either a bottle in your hand or laying around. And she was so, so messy. It took us at least ten minutes to find the keys every single time…and Spider-Byte said you sort your tools by size and color. Color. (Y/N), I don’t think even I…”

“Are you getting somewhere with this?”

“You’re not her, (Y/N). You have never been, and you never will, I know that. I want you to know that I wouldn’t want you to be any other way. I love you.”

After that, he moved out of the way and folded his arms.

“If you want to go back to your dimension and stay there for a while…or for good, I don’t know, I completely…”

“I love you too, you know?” You cut him off, pressing your lips together after blurting out the three words that’d been haunting you for the past months. Words that up until now you were sure would never leave your chest. When you turned to look at him, you saw in his eyes what minutes ago had filled yours. Hope.

God, his face was so hauntingly beautiful when his features softened.

“What do you want from me?” You finally asked him, your voice shaky from the effect you knew his answer would have regardless of what it was.

Miguel moved closer to you almost hesitantly, his eyes never leaving yours. When he was close enough, he reached out with both his hands and slid them up the back of your neck, his thumbs tucked in front of your ears as his warm palms engulfed the back of your head so he could hold you while he brought his face down to press his forehead against yours.

“Mi amor, I’d give you all I am and be happy with whatever you’re willing to give me for now,”

You knew it would take some time for you to get used to hearing him say things like that without wondering if you were the only one in his mind when he did. It would be a while until you felt completely certain that you were made of flesh and bone and not just a ghost in his eyes, but it would happen. You saw his eyes as he drew his face closer to yours and when your lips touched, you knew that it would definitely happen sooner or later. Until then, you thought as you stood on your tiptoes when he almost desperately pressed his lips onto yours, he was very much worth the wait.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x female reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #spiderman 2099 #spiderman atsv #across the spiderverse #atsv

1K notes · View notes

ickadori · 16 days

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[cws] fem reader. violence -> sukuna beats up a coworker for you lol. fade to black noncon oral.

Thud.

The dull sound of steel toed boots knocking against your wooden apartment floors come to a stop outside of your bedroom door. Your fingers pause over your keyboard as your stomach does a lurch, heart-rate quickening just a bit, and you save the essay you had been working on and close the lid of your Macbook.

“Ry..” Your voice dies out halfway through the call of his name, and you try again, getting no answer in return—no verbal one at least. The knob gives a quick turn and you flinch, and then there’s another thud, this one a bit lighter — a small thump of his boot against the door to push it open.

And there he is.

“Ryomen.”

“You left your front door open again.” His voice is rough, a slight drawl to it, almost lazy-like. “I told you about that.”

“Sorry, I forgot.” A crazy concept considering you’re a young woman living on your own, but you’ve had a lot on your mind the past few days, and your own safety was the last thing on your mind. Besides, Sukuna had showed his face around your complex a few times, and that was enough to deter most people from even looking in your direction for fear of getting his unwanted attention.

He chuffs and enters your room.

You look behind him to the darkly colored, boot-shaped spots that he’s left behind in his wake, and your teeth worry at your lip as you think about all the scrubbing you’ll have to do. He follows your gaze, head turning and angling down, and he clicks his tongue.

“What a mess.” He snickers, and you firmly press your lips together as he continues on, his steps slower this time, smaller, boots now leaving behind double the footprints because of his adjusted pace. What an asshole.

Now that he’s closer, you can make out the dark splatters of something on his jeans, along with the blooming bruises on his knuckles. The balls of your feet rest on the base of your desk chair, and you smooth your hands down the length of your thighs.

“Is it—are they…?” You trail off, not wanting to just outright ask it. You never liked to say it out loud after it was all said and done, yet you had never once struggled to get the words out whenever you first went to him, skin hot with anger and eyes sparkling with rage as you begged -demanded- that he do something about whoever it was that had managed to work you up so badly.

“Are they ‘dealt with’, as you so tenderly put it over the phone?” He finishes your question, fingers moving to lift the lid of your Macbook open. It hasn’t been closed long enough to require your password, and the black screens quickly flickers back on to display your half finished essay. “What’s this?”

“An assignment.” His finger makes a feint to tap at the delete button, and you yelp and quickly grab ahold of his hand with both of yours. “Please don’t do that.” The corner of his mouth quirks up as his eyes pointedly look at how you’re grabbing him, and you quickly let him go, thoughts of what those hands had likely did just a little while ago springing forth.

“I put ‘em in the hospital - nothing that’ll kill her, can’t say the same for her baby though.” Your stomach instantly sours, and a gasp forces its way out of your throat as you stare up at him with wide eyes.

“Baby?” You croak. “She was pre—” You can’t finish the sentence, a lump instantly forming in your throat as tears begin to blur your vision.

“Nah, I’m just fucking with you.” Sukuna barks out a laugh and you pause, expression still fixed into one of abject horror. “Or maybe she was, who knows—‘s not like I gave the bitch a pregnancy test before I broke her jaw.”

“Okay, enough.” You stress, fearing that you’d dirty the rug underneath your feet with stomach acid if he didn’t stop talking soon. While you may have envisioned all the ways he would deal with your bitch of a coworker two days ago, your argument with the outspoken women still fresh in your mind, you were calmer now, reasonable, not hellbent on revenge and willing to make a deal with the devil incarnate to see it exacted.

You thought he’d scare her a little -it wouldn’t have taken much, just a quick flash of his impossibly sharp canines and the sight of those black lines marring his otherwise handsome face would have done the trick-, maybe just toss her around a bit and take her wallet, call her a few names and send her on her sad way.

“Don’t get all mushy now. This was your idea, remember? You called me.” He looks over the trinkets on your desk, touching things here and there and invading your personal space all the while. You breathe in and catch a whiff of your coworkers signature perfume on his jacket, a scent that you had grown to hate, and you scramble to get out of your seat, only for a heavy hand to push down on your shoulder and keep you in place.

You make a noise of confusion and look up at him, but he doesn’t bother glancing at you, suddenly engrossed in the sight of a tattered, mini plushie that you had received as a gift years ago as a child.

“Where are you trying to run off to?”

“I—your money. I-I was going to pay you, for…you know…like I usually do.” His hand slips from your shoulder to the front of your neck and you suck in a sharp breath through your nose, watching as he finally looks down his nose at you, his lips twisted in that ever present smirk.

“I never asked for your money.” You frown, fingers twitching to push his hand away from you, but you curl them into your palm and keep them on your thighs.

“But you said—” His hand tightens around your throat just a bit, and your hands fly up on instinct to grab ahold of his wrist.

“I said you’d have to pay me, yeah.” He sighs out through his nose. “Never said how you’d pay me though, now did I?” His hand that isn’t squeezing at your neck suddenly fists your hair at the root and harshly tugs it back, the pained noise you make quickly being choked down. He looms over you, and Gods, has he always been this terrifying? You had always been wary of him despite Yuji’s never ending defense of his older brother.

“He’s not a bad guy, baby, I swear. He just got mixed up in some stuff when he was younger and did a few years.”

“He’s not mean, he’s just…well, I guess he is mean. But he’s not that mean!”

“He actually likes you, believe it or not…yes, I know he keyed your car but it was only because you double parked in the driveway and he thought it was Megumi.”

A rough thumb brushes across your bottom lip, and you’ve known enough men to know the look he’s giving you. You bristle, and he subdues it with a squeeze that leaves you coughing and pushing at his stomach. He takes the opportunity to push two fingers, pointer and middle, into your mouth, and you gag when a metallic taste hits your tongue, eyes widening and feet moving to kick at his shins.

“I’ve been wondering how it’d feel to have my cock in here,” he squeezes again, fingers pushing a bit deeper, “wondering if you’re as good as Yuji says you are.” You shove at him harder, and just when you build up enough courage to snap your teeth down against his fingers, he pulls his hand back from your mouth. You suck in a gasp of air at the short reprieve, only to lose your breath once again when his hand moves to his buckle.

“Let’s see if you can take it.”

#sukuna x reader #i #do not like this piece it was torture writing it but m gonna post it anyways bc i’m that guy!!

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gooperts-gunk · 3 months

Text

i saw someone on twitter writing qsmp names in korean and im trying so hard not to be bothered i know they have good intentions but it was just so wrong in parts so instead here's how qsmp names would be written in korean BY THE SOUND not how they're written. note that i am not korean nor on the korean side of qsmptwt but as a casual kpoppie it's a rite of passage to learn hangul and try to learn korean at one point therefore though i am not a trusted source i do know the basics of the phonetics LUL

alphabetical order & categorized!

get ready for me to infodump on mouth sounds

update from the morning after this post: fixed/optimized some!!!

english speaking creators:

badboyhalo: 밷보이헤이로 (baed-bo-i-he-i-ro/lo) i infer it'd be easier to just call him 헤이로 out of every part of him name please let's halo-truth bbh. the 헤이 slurs into the "hey/hei" sound, very little accentuation on the just one part, it works as one!!

dantdm: 단티디엠 or 댄티디엠 (dan-ti-di-em, daen-ti-di-em) i've heard both pronunciations for the name dan, it's a matter of preference here! EDIT: also possibly 댼 instead which is also daen but like, not really? but also they're really similar? and i don't know how to hear the difference but there is one and nevermind don't worry about it man

fit: 피트 (pi-teu) directly would be 핕 but that's just a tricky one it's bound to have a soft ㅡ sound following

foolish: 푸리쓰 or 푸리쌰? (pu-ri/li-sseu, pu-ri/li-ssya) THIS ONE IS TRICKY if it does go 쌰 it's be a soft one, but more likely 쓰 EDIT: IS IT 풀리쎠 (peul-ri-ssyeo) ?!?!?!? IM STILL ON THIS FOOLISH IS SO TOUGH TO PUT INTO HANGUL IM NOT GONNA BE OVER IT

ironmouse: 아이욘마우스 or 아이룐마우스 (a-i-yon-ma-u-seu, a-i-ryon/lyon-ma-u-seu) this one feels tit for tat, same same, just a minor difference in accentuating the r in iron or not! EDIT: could also be 아이런 (a-i-reon) or 아이론 (a-i-ron) !!!

jaiden: 제이든 (je-i-deun) no notes very easy and straightforward one

lenay: 르네이 (reu/leu-ne-i) same with jaiden's!

nihachu / niki: 니하추 or 니아추, 니키 (ni-ha-chu, ni-a-chu, ni-ki) another same same thing with ni-HA or ni-A, just depends on accentuation or not! the 추 may possibly be said as 츄 instead, but im unsure of which

philza: 피르쟈, 피르 (pi-reu/leu-jya, pi-reu/leu) no notes, straightforward! as you will come to notice, f's usually translate to ㅍ's, and z's usually translate to ㅈ's!

quackity: 콰키티 (kua/kwa-ki-ti) no notes! i heard like months back that quackity's korean fandom endearingly calls him 키티 i think?? fun fact i remembered :)

slimecicle / charlie: 스라임씨컬, 챨이 (seu-ra/la-im-ssi-keol/keor, chyal/chyar-i) wow okay so how do you write charlie in korean because i KNOW there's no way it's 챠르리 (chya-reu-ri) my tongue is tripping over the 르리, it has to be 챨이, or 챠리, or 챨리 right??? okay the more i think the more 챨리 (chyal-li) sounds right ok everyone go home i think it's 챨리 LUL

tinakitten / tina: 티나키던, 티나 (ti-na-ki-deon, ti-na) no notes! straightforward!

tubbo: 터뽀 (teo-bbo) no notes! but also i feel like there's other ways to write it that im just not convinced are correct LUL

wilbur soot: 윌버 쑽 (wil/wir-beo ssut) no notes!

spanish speaking creators:

carre: 카레 (ka-re) no notes!

elmariana: 에르마리아나 or 엘마리아나 (e-reu/leu-ma-ri/li-a-na, el-ma-ri-a-na) the reason why i included 에르 alongside 엘 is because it ends up sounding like "ed", the L/R sound in korean is in that same range and when said fast or cut abruptly like 엘, it sounds like a D, if not for context :) so 엘 COULD work! but it'd be hard to recognize it as an L/R sound without some extra space made for the sound. this is also relevant for elquackity!

german: 헤르만 or 헬만 (he-reu/leu-man, her/hel-man) same thing as last note applies here! it'd sound like HED-man more than HER-man but, still, could work!

luzu, arin: 루쥬 or 루주, 아린 (ru/lu-jyu, ru/lu-ju, a-rin/lin) no notes! i see luzu more said with the 쥬 sound instinctively but it's one of those either or i think EDIT: if it were the spain pronunciation i think it'd be 루튜 (lu-tyu) or 루뜌 (lu-ddyu) ??? the thhh sound doesn't exist in korean but this is the closest it gets i think

maximus, maxo: 맠수머스, 맠서 (mak-su-meo-seu, mak-seo) okay at this point my brain is mush and im sure there's a better way to write this but it's a tricky one. the 맠 could also be 막 (mag) but im unsure where in the mouth the difference is between 맠 and 막, because hangul is very mouth oriented, it's allll about tongue placement, and i am SO not on that X_X EDIT: i change my mind it's 막 for maximus but 맠서 is fine i think idk how to explain is just is. also alternate pronunciationfor maximus: 막씨머스 (mag-ssi-meo-seu)

missa sinfonia: 미싸 씬퍼냐 (mi-ssa ssin-peo-nya) yeah that seems about right (my brain is melting everything is hangul) no notes! EDIT: ok but IS it possibly 미사 (mi-sa)??? im doubting myself here

polispol, pol: 폴에쓰폴, 폴 (pol-e-sseu-pol, pol) no notes!

rivers: 리버스 (ri/li-beo-seu) no notes!

roier: 로이예 or 로이옐 (ro/lo-i-ye, ro/lo-i-yer/yel) this is one of those scenarios where an abrupt L/R sound works just fine! don't know how to explain it! but it just works!

rubius: 루비어스 (ru-bi-eo-seu) no notes!

spreen: 스프린 (seu-peu-rin) no notes!

vegetta: 베헷따 (be-het-dda) okay i don't know how to explain but tonalities of how you say vegetta in spanish make me think 베 and that the tta would be equal to the sharpness of 따 stick with me here i've been doing hangul names for so long now i can't see the end of the horizon EDIT: for some reason im changing my mind it might be 페헷따 (pe-het-dda)

willyrex, willy: 위리렉스, 위리 (wi-ri-reg-seu, wi-ri) okay again idk how to explain but the reason why ㄱ and not ㅋ is because it just feels like it instinctively, like that's a deep ㄱ abrubt stop, not a high ㅋ abrupt stop. im losing my marbles

portuguese speaking creators:

bagi: 바지 (ba-ji) no notes!

cellbit: 셀비트 (sel-bi-teu) guys this is getting hard. yes it's somehow sel and not se-leu. yes it's bi-teu and somehow not bit. if it were bit it'd be missing the aftermath TCH sound and i think it sounds good with it. the sel has space to breathe and isn't abrupt. stay with me. we're almost done EDIT: fellow hangul enjoyer anon in ask box said 셀빛 (sel-bich/bit) or 셀비츠 (sel-bi-cheu) if with the accent, i like these, ur getting put on the fridge with the best magnets. 빛 is a fun one because it sounds pretty much the same to 빝 or 빗, all end in the same stop of the tongue going to the roof of the mouth, but 빛 in particular means "light" and i think that's nice :)

felps: 펠릅스 (pel-reub-seu) holy moly i didn't expect this to be a tongue twister but i think i nailed it

mike: 마이크 or 마이키 (ma-i-keu, ma-i-ki) i've heard mike being called mikey so i included it for fun because there's been so much hardship. so so much. we're in this together.

pac: 팩 or 패크 (paeg, pae-keu) paeg and not paek because it's just a more throat based sound to say pac idk man. pae-keu is a hypothetical im losing it man i don't know anything anymore EDIT: okay i change my mind it's definitely 패크 over 팩 im so loopy from hyperfocus overload man EDIT EDIT: i can also see 팍 (pak) being used though that isn't how it sounds for us, i can see someone saying it that way in korean if they were to read it before hearing it and then go from there

french speaking creators:

antoine daniel: 안투완 단옐 (an-tu-wan dan-yel) in french the a's are long so 단 over 댄 is a guaranteed. the yel could be accentuated more but you get the point by now

aypierre: when french accent, 아이피에히, when english accent, 에이피에어 (a-i-pi-e-hi, e-i-pi-e-eo) (thank u anon for contributing 피에어 that makes much more sense)

baghera jones: one way is 바게라 전스 the other is 바길라 전스 (ba-ge-ra jeon-seu, ba-gil/gir-ra jeon-seu) a baGERa or bagEARa dilemma.....

etoiles: 에투왈 (e-tu-wal/war) no notes!

kameto: 카메토 (ka-me-to) no notes!

THERE!!!! IT'S DONE!!!! this was hard but i feel like i got most right. and when im wrong let's just say this was just hangul practice and not serious right guys, just practice round, right??? we don't take me so serious, right??? just stick fight with totem??? if you know korean especially the phonetics better than me which is NOT a high bar at all, you can step over that bar EASY, tell me a better way to write these thank u! smile :)

bonus round coming at you live from the morning after!!! some others that i thought "yeah let's include you"

im gonna be working on this on and off all day i think so don't be scared if someone isn't here chances are brain is doing something else but will add it later :)

cucurucho: 쿠쿠루쵸 (ku-ku-ru/lu-chyo) no notes!

walter bob: 월터 법 (weol/weor-teo beob) could also be 봅 (bob)

chayanne: 챠얀 (chya-yan) or 차얀 (cha-yan) no notes!

tallulah: 타룰라 (ta-lul-la) no notes!

ramon: 라몬 (ra-mon) or if you're pac you say 하몬 (ha-mon) heehee :)

dapper: 답퍼 (dab-peo) or possibly 답뻐 (dab-bbeo) but im not so sure about that one

leo / leonardo / leonarda: if you speak english it's 리오 (li-o) if you speak spanish it's 레오 (le-o), then add on 날도 (nar/nal-do) or 날다 (nar/nal-da) :)

richarlyson / richas: 리찰리손, 리차스 (ri-chal/char-li-son, ri-cha-seu) no notes!

pomme: 펌 (peom) or 폼 (pom) both work here!

trump: 트람프 or 트럼프, to make it trumpet change the 프 to 펫 (pet/ped)

tilin: 티린 (ti-lin/rin) no notes!

juanaflippa: 환나프리파 (hwan/huan-na-peu-li-pa)

bobby: 법비 (beob-bi) or 봅비 (bob-bi) both work here!

empanada: 엠파나다 (em-pa-na-da) no notes!

pepito: 페피토 (pe-pi-to) no notes!

sunny(sideup): 선니사읻엎 (seon-ni-sa-id-eop) this one works nicely because the 읻 bleeds into the 엎 and sounds like it's one full iddeop :) this one is an ending in ㅍ not ㅂ moment but i don't know how to explain why

#goopert talks qsmp #qsmp #i've been here 30 years. some of these were fun to do though i liked EXCEPT THE DIFFICULT ONES but fun NOT YOU MAX & FOOSH THAT WAS TOUGH #okay fine i'll main tag but im SHY. be NICE. please. thank you.#long post

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darlingofvalyria · 8 months

Text

❝I am not a Valyrian Sex God.❞

part 03 | pucker up, buttercup

chapter summary:

[ The line of friendship dances in uncertain waters when you and Aemond play the fake dating game a little too well. Helaena reveals much more than meets the eye to Aegon, and vice versa. Oh, and Alys. Hi Alys! ]

[ 5,399 ] [ series masterlist ] | best friend's brother!aemond targaryen x f!reader, ft. cregan stark x f!reader & aemond targaryen x alys rivers,

contains— mostly fluff, a wee bit angsty, a little smutty - profanity, i swear a lot sorry too shhshs - no use of y/n - no gods, no kings, no betas.

a/n— thank you so much for the love this little fic is getting so far!! it truly warms my heart that you people enjoy my twisty, crackpot humour and my version of a modern au for these characters!! as much as i am grateful for george for making these characters and these stories, i have to say what propelled me to write is the beautiful community i found. truly, from the bottom of my heart. ❥ fandom is built on community. i would not have had the courage to start writing fanfiction again if not for ya'll. so thank you so much. for the consumers and the creators. you, us, are the beating heart of fandom. please take care of each other. + comment, reblog & like at will, mwa ♡

"Please tell me I haven't inhaled so much drugs in my system that I am hallucinating our— and I say this with a lot love, okay you know what? No. Our Nasty Little Bitch of A Grudge Holder we call, lovingly, a brother, is not dating the hottest friend you have? Hel? The hottest friend you told me if I ever came anywhere near, you'd rip me a new asshole? How is Aemond's asshole still intact?? Or does our brother just have a gaping fun-house slide down there? Hello? Hellooo, pay attention to meee. This is so rude, why didn't I call Daeron?"

"Because Daeron knows nothing and I know everything?" Hel snorts, finishing up re-naming Aemond's contact from CURRENT DUMB BRO to NASTY LITTLE BITCH OF A GRUDGE HOLDER, before turning to Aegon on her laptop.

Like she predicted, Aegon is already pouting, leaning back on what Helaena remembers is their grandfather's rum-coloured leather office chair. In his office. In Oldtown.

After a quick stint in Ibiza, it seems Helaena's brother had found himself back in the country, and worse— back in their grandfather's office. Without him in it.

"Grandpa's going to kill you." Helaena snorts. "How'd you even get inside his house?"

"This is not the first time I have been faced with a locked door, baby sister."

"You broke a window didn't you?"

"I really, really had to piss."

She rolls her eyes. Hard. "You are a boy. You can literally just pee anywhere."

Aegon flutters a gasp and a hand over his chest. "Excuse me? I may have a penis, but that does not mean I have to be uncouth. For shame, Helaena. Also disgusting. But that's not why I called." He steeples his fingers as he leans forward, pressing his elbows against the nice mahogany desk. "What the fuck is happening over there? I'll be there by tomorrow and I'd like to know what the fuck is happening before I start—" he wiggles his eyebrows salaciously, " — shaking things up."

A dark look crosses Helaena's usually amiable pretty face that has Aegon leaning back. "If you do anything— and I mean anything — to ruin what I have going on, Mother may help you for I certainly won't. The Stranger will look like an old friend, Egg, don't you fucking dare."

"What the fuck," Aegon exhales, wide-eyed and horrified. "Have you been watching M. Night Shyamalan movies again?"

"No," she lies. "I'm doing this for my OTP."

"Oh my god, you're the one who roped them together?" Aegon strangles a sigh. "Lae-lae, we've talked about this. No matter how much you think they're cute, Aemond—"

"— Aemond and Alys broke up."

"Then they'll be together again before the weekend's out." Aegon rolls his eyes. "It's Aemond."

"Not like this." Hel shakes her head. "I got her to agree, Egg. And they're like... Gods, the pictures don't do them justice. They're magnetic. They make plans at the apartment, Aemond is there all the time— my OTP is happening."

"You are playing god between two people you care about."

"What else am I supposed to do?! They're obviously so hot for each other, and now that Alys is out of the picture, and she's there, right in front of him, Egg, you should see how it is between them. The energy. It's crackling. They have inside jokes, they're so comfortable with each other, and I will have the most beautiful nephew and niece—"

"—Helaena Targaryen," Aegon admonishes with finality. Hel quiets. Often times, the siblings forget Aegon is quintessentially the oldest sibling. They had never been close to their father's actual firstborn— the age gap is wide and there's just... too much complicated family fissures in between that it feels awkward, even when they're relationship is okay, to interact or consider Rhaenyra anything past a cousin you see every other holiday because you have to, much less now that their father's dead — so Aegon is their big brother.

And though they see it in bits, in flung comet pieces that you see preciously once every few hundred years— the vibe of big brother grasps the edges and reminds the younger siblings.

Sure, he's a dick. Sure, he's a whore. Sure, he's their mother's least and most favourite headache— but Aegon is their big brother.

"You cannot play puppeteer like this. This can blow up in their faces. And they care for each other. Their friends. If this blows up in their faces, it is going to hurt."

"I know that," Helaena says quietly, pout pinched but face mostly cleared. "You don't think I don't know?"

"I think you've already outweighed your chances and your choosing a possibility."

Helaena looks truly scolded at that point, and it juts a guilt down Aegon's stomach. But Aegon likes you. Maybe not like in the way that his brother likes you— in that intense, possessive way he gets with people and things he care about because there are so few of them — but he likes you. And he loves Aemond on a bad day, and likes him on a good one.

And Aegon knows, as a superior power about crashing and burning, that this is going to hurt both of you in ways that he truly doesn't think Helaena understands.

Because he isn't blind (as his brother) (bad joke?) (probably) to what he sees in Aemond's gaze when it looks at you. Sure it's possessive, sure it's the same way he looks at most people he keeps close to his heart.

But he was the one who saw how Aemond looked at you before Alys came into the picture. Before it morphed into nothing but platonic; morphed close to how he looks at Helaena. In that soft, I'm So Glad This Person Exists I Would Kill Literally Everyone For Them.

Aegon always thought he looked at you like he wanted to devour you. Etch you into his skin until your shape is in red marks across white plane. He looked at you like I Would Kill Myself If You Asked.

It was the possibility of devotion dipped in insanity. Aemond had so few things, much less people, who so vocally, physically, and emotionally cared for him without addendums.

The only real reason he never did anything before was because you were Helaena's best friend. Helaena loved you. And he couldn't destroy that alongside the fact that you might leave his side.

And then Alys happened and that focal point moved.

Aegon knew his brother. Not as intensely, and maybe that's the reason he could see it. To see clearly past the intensity and recognise its edges. Aegon knew his brother in his marrow.

"When this crashes and burns—"

"If!" Helaena quips stubbornly. "If it crashes and burns. Come home. You'll see, Egg. Aemond just needs to see."

"And what if she doesn't reciprocate, Lae-lae? She's not hard to love, and this is Aemond." Even Helaena knows his feelings, once taken root in whatever form, can blossom.

Helaena smiles softly. "Come home. You'll see. I can see it. I've seen it. The possibility of them, and it's so pretty, Egg."

It's really not all that pretty, fake dating.

Maybe it could be, but Aemond Targaryen is such an ass.

"This is not like The Devil Wears Prada fashion montage," you grumble, pinching off the big, 60s, yellow sunglasses off your nose to glare pointedly at the man sat on lounge chair. "All the zippers and tugging— this is not as pretty! And I look ridiculous! I don't wear dresses like these, Aemy!"

"You don't look ridiculous, you look like my girlfriend." He makes his emphasis with an inch raised eyebrow and pouty lips twitching not to laugh. "That's the point, is it not?"

You make a drawl huff. It's not just that his words were right— that's what the past hour has been, roaming around all these big named fashion brands where the staff just knows Aemond Targaryen, if not just by him sauntering in with all the swagger of an asshole you'd walk the other side of the street to ignore, then by the flash of his black card (or three, 'cause what the fuck is money to Targaryens holy shit) — but the way he's sitting as he appraises every look he's chosen for you.

He's lax, as could be in his usually perfect posture, with his hips in the middle, and one leg braced down whilst the other is raised to his other thigh. A confident man's sitting position, with an arm over the length of the sofa, balancing a champagne a trying-to-suppress-her-giddiness staff gave him.

At your disapproved glare— down on your nose at him because you're standing over him, lording over him, as he's sitting down — and he's smirking up at you. As if the power dynamics don't shift by whoever is looming over the other.

Aemond doesn't need to stand to make you feel all fluttery with a smirk and a strong gaze against your body. His eyes gaze from the bottom of your heeled toes, slow, slow, slow, until it reached the top of your head.

Surely you've only imagined his gaze lingering on certain parts of you that now felt hot and tingly.

Surely.

"Plus," he continues with a hum. A sip of champagne. "Isn't this your idea?"

"Yes, but—"

"Didn't you tell me that I should prepare the kind of outfits that Aemond Targaryen's girlfriend would wear—"

"Yes, but I—"

He leans forward, taking pleasure in arguing with you, as he settles his elbows on his knees, pressing both of his feet flat on the tile. He's looking up, still, but his eyes are intense and the corner of his mouth is twitching from a grin he's trying to fight.

"And even when I told you that didn't matter, that whatever you wore would be fine, you insisted?"

"Because I thought it'd be fun!" you growl and he falls in faint, amused laughter. His eye is sparkling and there's a joy to him that makes you giddy. You truly have missed Aemond as you know him. "Because I wanted a fun dress-up montage, but nothing about this is fun! Why are you choosing so many goddamned zippers, and they're all so fucking tight?"

You plop beside him, stealing his champagne. Staff look away, trying not to ogle too much between you two. As you take sips of his drink, his hand, still over the sofa's arm, begin drawing idle circles on your exposed shoulders. It warms you and calms you down, melting further in the seat beside him.

"I liked the dresses," he finally murmurs. "The ones before this. The flowy fabric ones."

"Those are summer dresses," you say though don't know why.

"Hm," he hums. "You look pretty in them."

You look up at him and he's looking at you, a small smile on his face. The proximity is too near to be proper but not near enough if you're fake dating. You study his silver lashes and the scarred flesh.

"Thanks."

"We'll get them. Is that alright with you?"

You snort softly. "You're paying, Aemy. You can do whatever you want. Can't believe this is how your dates with Alys usually went."

Hatching plans meant unloading information about his former relationship with her. Going through their relationship so you could understand it better, better proportioned the good and the bad, and secretly, make him see the red flags that should jump out in clear, plastic red.

"Not at first." He's looking away now, but his finger is still drawing circles. There's a wistful tone to his voice, like seeing through a dream and a memory. "But when it got... bad, it seemed like the only time we weren't fighting was when we were in public. Almost subconsciously, whenever things got tensed, I'd offer to take us out. Do anything outside of our bubble. Money isn't an issue, and before Alys said she felt like a... cheap whore than a girlfriend, buying things for her, spending time looking through things to wear, to match almost, was safe."

"Gift Giving," you mutter with a nod. He turns.

"What was that?"

"A love language." He cocks his head. You sigh. "I mean it's stupid and not really theoretically accurate, but for fun, there's five types of love languages. People do this test thing and sort of box up the kind of love language you want to receive and what you give— but truly, in my opinion, a true kind of love demands all five for it to work."

He hums, intrigued. "And what are the five?"

"Words of Affirmation, Quality Time, Physical Touch, Acts of Service, Gift Giving. But, you know, all of those should be given by a partner, in increments they can do for you. There shouldn't be a boxed fixture of what your relationship could be."

You shrug, standing up and stretching. You don't see him looking at you in the way that he has been for the past few days, and he doesn't know the tingles and feelings you keep between a smile and a sigh.

"Love looks different for everyone but it should have the same concept."

"And what concept is that?"

You turn to him, smiling. "That if you truly love someone, you can try anything. Love doesn't demand things that you do for the simple reason that you love the person enough."

"Love can be complicated," he says, and he's not arguing, not really. He isn't begging for you to understand. He is simply saying.

"Love can," you agree. "As most things are complicated. But it doesn't have to hurt."

It's a boundary line, the way he blinks, remembering why you're here together, why he gets to touch you in intimate ways, why he gets to pay for clothes, why you spend this time with him. A jolt. A shock.

You don't press and he doesn't retreat. The line exists not just to remind, but to stabilise any projections. Any dangerous tones.

You simply smile, nodding at the time. "Dinner date, babycakes. We can't be late for reservations."

"We can be late for a few minutes," he says, remembering echoes of how Alys sometimes got late. It isn't really her fault; there are days when she's too busy at the law firm, too busy with a meeting or two, or still finishing up her makeup because she doesn't like going to dinner in her work clothes.

"Sure, but we're here together and I know how much you hate being late." You snort.

"I don't hate it."

"Sure, but you got that eye twitch you do when you're annoyed," you tease, tapping your own eye before you wink at him and skip away.

For the past few days since the bar incident, by your suggestion, you and Aemond had pour out the intricacies of how Aemond and Alys' relationship worked whilst hiding your true intention of making him see its faults and corners, and at the same time, continue on with the charade of dating him.

It's been a packed week or so, going to your shifts at the bar, meeting with Cregan once and a while (boy had been busy, and he found the entire thing with Aemond incredibly hilarious).

You answered no question mark in regards on who the hand was, only sent a winky face or a kiss blowing emoji. You continue to post minute representations of your no-longer-single status in brief intervals, making sure that you never name him. You never publicly give him a recognisable body.

But for those that knew, knew.

It really wasn't that hard. There were only so much pale, toned hands, so much body builds you can hide with your hand covering his general face that you can hide without people making smart guesses. There wasn't a lot of pale, toned people around you after all.

But in your refusal to name him, the question continues, and so does Alys silent observation of every post. The only story she had liked had been the very first one.

You often wonder what she thinks, before your mind is devoured once again with everything else.

To be fair, as often as you had both been seeing each other lately— and it has been the most often you have been seeing of him — there were still things outside of Aemond and Helaena plans. And Aemond still had UNI to focus on.

"You know, I often forget you're still in university," you say now, comfortably warm in Aemond's car. All fresh leather seat and crisp new car smell despite knowing that Aemond's had this unit now for at least a year. He maybe rich, but he knew what he liked and took care of them.

He shoots you a quizzical look before looking back at the road. The city is bathed in a gorgeous stream of oranges and pinks, tie-dying glass buildings and bustle of city roads. When you look at him, you smile softly at how pretty the light hits him.

"Why is that? Do I look that young?"

"Your vibe is so old man on a nine to three, cigar breaks by four, and whiskey sours by seven pm."

He makes a disgruntled sound at the back of his throat. You laugh. "I would like to think it's my altruistic classicism. A timeless endeavour."

"Sure, old man," you tease then sigh. "Reality is, I'm so much older than you. I'm hanging out with a child. On my free day. Is this what it means to reach low status?"

"I am not a child." His reply is sharp, cutting, almost offended.

"You're in college."

"And of legal age? You're only four years older."

"Oh, right."

"What?"

You smirk at his dark look. "You like 'em way older."

His face, much like his gaze, heats up. You're imaging it when the ride turns red, the car slows to a stop, and he is looking at your lips. Surely it was, because you got transfixed with the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips. A slow, tantalising movement.

It feels like an eternity stretched within three seconds. The light turns green and both of you turn away.

Well, there's been that. A few times. But it doesn't mean anything. Aemond is in that transition of trying to rid himself of bad habits, of being freshly single once again, and you know he and Alys get in on frequently. This had been a conversation a few days back, on a couch, smell of grease and pizza around the room while Murder She Wrote played in the background.

"Wait, wait, wait." You sat up, folding your legs underneath your butt, and giving Aemond your full attention with a little 'o' in your mouth.

"Wait!" Helaena calls playfully from her sway to the bathroom. "Imma pee!"

"Take care, my beloved!" you call back, before turning to Aemond with a big, Cheshire grin.

"Can we not dwell on it?" He's flustered but is trying not to show it, looking back to the TV as if he understood why there's a body on the plane.

But wine has been had, spilled and shared, and it's enough for you to grab that fluster and the topic, and smirked.

"No, no, we will talk about it. We shall! We must! Do you mean to tell me that by the end of it, most of the time, you two were just boning? Is Aemy, one of my favourite people in the world, a Valyrian Sex God?? Oh my god??"

"I am not a Valyrian Sex God."

"Okay, girly pop, please." You raised a hand in a 'talk to the hand' motion and he was smiling at you, entranced and frustrated. "Women talk, Aemy!"

There was a flush and Helaena came back. Wine did things to Helaena, and she was stumbling and giggling as she flopped behind you, turning around and encasing you in a koala hug.

"Women talk, baby bro." Helaena nodded sagely. "Even I try not to listen, they talk, alas."

"And Alys has said those hips—" You pointed a j'accuse finger at his hips, then his mouth. "—and that tongue has done things that can make the Maiden blush."

Helaena groaned behind you're back, a slew of 'ew's escaping her mouth. And you were still being playful, teasing, but Aemond was looking at you, though scarlet, with a deepened expression.

And at that moment, both of you were thinking the same thing.

His chin brushing your thighs, your sighs like music to his ears, and his tongue making you scream.

Warmth pooled, twin expressions share a gaze. Hunger, desire, shame.

The connection was destroyed when Helaena abruptly jolted and fell down the carpet. Because she was holding onto you, you got pulled with her.

"Are you okay??" Aemond asked.

Hel gasped. "I thought I saw Bobby. I think I squished Bobby."

You shook your head. "You didn't. Bobby is spry. Bobby knows to move away."

Aemond's confused face peered down at both of you. "Who's Bobby?"

"The local spider that lives here."

"Of course." And he smiled.

You smiled back.

Helaena giggled beside you but when you ask her, she only shook her head.

And the silence that lulls in the car is like both of you reaching the very same memory and having to sit through the stifle of that drunken interaction about his sex life. He coughs, you let out a breathy giggle.

"I should admit something," he says, parking the car in front of the restaurant. Dusk is settling, sunset in bright red and orange turning to a cool blue and pretty lavender— and when you turn to him after getting out of the car, coddling your jacket close to your body, he looks nervy. Apologetic, almost.

"What? What'd you do?"

He bites his bottom lip. "I know something about this restaurant."

"I would assume. You chose it." Your eyes narrow, giving the black-out floor to ceiling windows a look. The Painted Table is lit up in a scrawled font on top of it.

You step inside, not bothering to turn to his call of your name, and is submerged by the restaurant's vibe. It's a darkened place with meaningful lighting but a casual air, a bar on the side, and an upbeat jazzy music dancing in the air — it looks good. The place smelled delicious.

Nothing about it sparked familiarity to you, but the anticipation from that look of guilt on his face brought you to a high-strung, so when he calls your name again, just behind you, you turn.

"Is this where you had your first date with Alys?"

He shakes his head. "No. No, but—"

"Aemond?"

The voice is familiar, and you don't stop enough to think before you're turning to the low, clear voice that's just a hint of husky, and Alys' green eyes go wide at your appearance.

She's dressed nice, dressed to go out in a black dress dipping low and fabric tangled around her body to show off her curves. Her inky hair was swept to one side and her mouth was bloodred.

Alys Rivers, owner of Aemond's firsts. The woman he seemingly can't let go off.

You smile. It feels fake. "Oh. Hi Alys."

Her shock staves off into a genuine smile that makes you guilty. "Hi, my love. I see you two are together. Always attached at the hip. Dinner?"

Before you nod— or maybe strangle Aemond — he comes forward, taking your hand in the process and lacing it. He's looking at her as if he's setting a challenge when Alys' eyes fall on your intertwined hands.

"Yes," he says. "We are."

"Well... that's good. This place is great. I—" Someone calls her name, she turns back. You shoot Aemond a withering glare you hope conveys how much you're going to beat his ass after this. She turns back, smiling still. There's a pinch between her eyes but it's gone by the third blink. "Well, I have to go. I'll see you both soon, okay?" She turns to you, stepping forward, not minding the Targaryen beside you. "Especially you. We haven't hung out in a while."

"That's true, I've missed you, you crazy witch." And she laughs and you smile, because you genuinely consider Alys to be one of your friends. Not maybe as deeply as Helaena's, or as close, but Alys was an amazing person and you enjoy her company.

Plus, right now the one you're angry about it solely the man holding your hand.

Alys turns to Aemond, and he stiffens. Between them is a complicated look. So many things unsaid, before her smirk softens. "It's nice to see you too, Aemond."

And she turns away, walking back to her table, to her date, when you tug him with you to the bar. As you order a dry martini, he speaks. Calm and soft.

"You're mad at me."

"You knew she was going to be here." You turn to him, arching an eyebrow, hating the way your chest pangs. "You stalked her and brought us here because you wanted to use me."

He shifts, face crumples at the word 'use' and calls your name in a plead. "It's not like that."

You snort, taking a sip of your drink when it arrives. "Don't lie."

"Okay. Yes, I did. I... I made an impulsive decision because I wanted to see how she could go on a date as if we were nothing." Bitterness cripples his words, the smirk on his lips is ironic and darkened in hurt. Your heart hurts for him, but you can't give him a pass just like that. He hurt you too.

"You could've told me."

He raises an eyebrow. "You would be okay with this?"

Your own smile is ironic and darkened by hurt. "You're already using me, Aemy. That was the deal I agreed, for Hel. It would at least lick the wound to have been in the know, and not, you know, got shot in the face with it."

At the first part of your tirade, he looked like he wanted to argue with the using part, but the realisation weighs him because it is true. To him, he is using you. And it's a cheap shot on your part because you were also doing this for him, out of your own free will.

You sigh when he turns away, guilt dipping low.

"You're such a dumbass."

He hums in agreement.

You're aware of a gaze from the tables, somewhere in the ocean of jazz music and chatter, Alys is looking, and you kinda wanna make this good for him. You were already here after all.

Your hand reaches his jaw, sliding across his neck until you reach his nape and fingers tangle with the baby hairs there. His hair had been wrapped into a bun. Sleek and fluffy.

He turns to you, to your touch, in shock. "What are you—"

"Try not to look so surprised," you whisper, stepping close to him until your noses are bumping. "We're supposed to be dating."

And then you slant your mouth against his.

TAGGED: @fan-goddess @snh96 @valeskafics @opheliaas-stuff @tempo-rary-fix @fantasticpeaceharmony @diannnnsss @iamavailablesstuff @spinachtz @at-a-rax-ia @bespinnn @tsujifreya @moonlightfoxx @kemillyfreitas @joyouart @bananzaa @honey-on-mars @alexa4040 @cinnamonbambii @wintrr13 @wxb-slingrr @astroswift @queenofshinigamis @helaenaluvr @kaetastic @jxdegodfrey @laniii-on-your-left @watercolorskyy @snowprincesa1 @gemini-mama

#aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond fluff #aemond smut #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x you #aemond x reader #hotd x reader #hotd smut #hotd fluff #elle writes !! ꒱ ↷˗ˏˋ🍒#hotd fanfic #aemond one eye #tshbft ༊*·˚ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ

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jesssssssssica · 6 months

Text

how you get the girl mv1

max verstappen was not normally someone who would go to other people for help, seeing as he deems it too embarrassing, expecting himself to be the only person that can fix his problems.

that’s why when daniel was on the receiving end of a call with max verstappen at midnight on a tuesday, did he find himself shocked.

“i need your help”

“oh hello to you too max.”

“sorry, i just need your hel-”

“yeah, i heard you the first time. anyway you need my help? i thought you were mr independent, a lone wolf?” he chuckles slightly at the end of this question finding this whole situation quite ironic.

“this isn’t funny dan, i really need your help, i messed up bigtime.” he whimpers, cradling his forehead with his spare hand.

only now does daniel realise that his friend is truly being serious, having previously thought that the only help he needed was getting into his locked apartment but no it must have been much worse.

daniel quickly clears his throat before questioning,

“what happened max?”

“i broke up with her.”

silence. the air thickens on both sides of the phone, shivers running down the pair's backs.

“why?”

that’s all daniel can say, knowing that if he were to say anything more he’d find himself getting angry at the issue at hand. in his mind a breakup between y/n and max wasn’t physically possible, they were so in love with each other it was insane. the pair were soulmates and nothing could get between the two which is why even the mention of a break up between the two leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

“i…” max slowly says, “i don’t know dan. one moment we were on the sofa just talking and then the next we were just shouting and i just got so mad and so i just broke it off and left.”

“what were you two talking about? it must have been something if it caused such an outrage.”

“i was talking about y/n giving up her job to join me…” he utters, embarrassed at his past self's words. he knew from previous conversations that y/n would never ever give up her career, having given up so much to put herself where she is right now.

‘how could i ever think so selfishly?’ max thinks, pulling at his hair, fisting it and scrunching it up as he fights off the tears brewing in his eyes, waiting for daniel.

safe to say daniel was not very impressed with his friends words, knowing that you had not liked to even think of the idea of leaving your job, it being a big part of your life.

“max… you know how she feels about that, she’s just afraid that if you ever were to break up then she would just be stuck and as much as she does love you, she just doesn’t want to risk it and plus she loves her job!”

“i know daniel, i know! but i miss her too much and it’s not like i wouldn’t be able to support the bo-”

“max! you have to learn that y/n wants to be known as y/n not max verstappen's girlfriend, which already happens when you’re apart. what do you think would happen if she went with you hmm?”

it’s as if time has repeated itself as once again the call goes silent.

“i just love her too much to not be around her all the time. it’s as if i can only live when she’s around, and it’s probably true. y’know my mum told me that she’s never seen me as happy as she did when i was y/n, claiming that when she was in the toilet i wasn’t wearing the same smile i was when she got back. i know that she’s my future dan, my world and now i’ve gone and messed it up just like everything else. when i told her that this wasn’t going to work, i swear the look she gave me made me regret everything and yet i just stood there, looking adamant at my decision. even as she packed her things i said nothing, i watched her go and did nothing. who does that to the person they love? who just lets them go so easily and doesn’t fight for it? i need her back daniel but surely she won’t let me back into her heart when i’ve only just broken it.”

by the end of max’s ramble, daniel is sure he hears a few sniffles, though he’s not sure if it’s from him or max.

“i’ll help you max.”

—

the very next morning, max is woken from his broken sleep by relentless knocks on his door, followed by the shouts of,

“max!” “let me in!”

“what are you doing here daniel?”

daniel, doesn’t reply, instead reaching into his bag and tossing out a booklet.

How to get the girl by daniel ricciardo

“since the call last night, i’ve been making this guide on how to get y/n back and i swear if you follow these steps, then all will be good.”

“oh really? this is what’ll take to get y/n back yeah? just a few simple steps?”

“well if you read it then you’d know what these ‘simple steps’ were.”

step one - go to her (preferably in the pouring rain)

so he does.

‘stupid daniel’ max thinks, shivering in cold and dreary rain, waiting anxiously for you to open the door.

“hell- oh max. what are you doing here, it’s tipping down? are you insane?”

“i missed you.” is all max can say.

“you miss me? you broke up with me and then you have the audacity to say that you miss me?”

“i didn’t mean it y/n, i just really wanted you to come with me because i love you too much to live without me-”

“hang on, you’re saying that you wouldn’t be able to live without me and yet you did the only thing which meant i wasn’t in your life. max, you could’ve just let our life continue on as normal and then you would still have me but you didn’t.”

“y/n i’m a mess without you and i am so sorry for everything. i love you with my heart and without you i’m not me. i don’t know what came over me in that moment but i will never regret anything more than i did in that moment. you’re my soulmate y/n and i can’t continue living without you. i’ve lost sleep and i’m not the same person anymore. i’ve gotten snappier and i’m distancing myself from all my friends because i’m scared i’ll lose them too.”

“oh.”

step two - say nice things

“i want you for worse or for better y/n and i would wait for thousands of years for you to come back to me and i wouldn’t regret it because it would mean i would have you again. i know i broke your heart but hopefully it means i can put it back together because i truly do love you y/n.”

“max you need to understand that it’ll take time for me to take you back because even though you regret it, i need to heal and maybe once i’ve healed i’ll let you back in. i do love you though max, always will and i thank you for loving me too.”

“i won’t give up y/n, i’ll keep coming back.”

“i’ll be here max.”

step three - remind her how it use to be

the second time max appeared at y/n’s, he found himself feeling much more confident than how he did during his first endeavour, daniel having given him some motivation.

he takes a moment to breathe before knocking his fist on your door.

“when you said you’d keep coming back i didn’t know you’d actually follow through with it.”

“of course i would, i meant it when i said i wanted you back.”

you just stare at the man as he talks, arms crossed around your chest resting on your doorframe.

“well… what do you have to say for yourself? or are you just gonna stand there and stare at me for half an hour?”

“well if you’re offerin-”

“max! get to the point please or i will close this door.”

he only smiles, staring at your face, admiring you before coming to his senses and speaking once more.

“i just wanted to remind you of the time we spent together, y'know. i mean i was just lying down on the sofa and just staring at some old photos and i was thinking of the nights where we would just stay and lay and cuddle. nights reserved just for you and i remember? or as soon as we both had time off work, then we’d just jet off to a new country and relax, tanning under the sun or skiing in the snow. we should do that soon, have a nice holiday to just relax and love each other, wouldn’t you just love that, a romantic holiday just for the pair of us? i certainly would but we’d have to get back together first but i guess that’s why i’m here.”

“that would be nice i guess but i could do that with any man, a man that wouldn’t selfishly try and get me to quit my job when he knows i love it so much.”

“they don’t know you like i do though y/n! they also don’t deserve someone as sweet and perfect as yo-”

“so what? that makes you the perfect man for me then?”

“yes it does as a matter of fact! i know that even though you say that you love redbull, you really wish that some other team was winning but you also love that i’m winning. you also say that you prefer dogs but jimmy and sassy are your only exceptions. i know that y/n and no other person knows that. you say that you don’t want kids but you can’t help but want them when you see luka and lio and yet you still always claim that you will forever be the cool aunt! i also know that even though you put up this strong front, i know that i hurt you and i know that i will have to fight hard for you but i promise y/n, i swear that i will fight for you, i really will.”

by the end of his speech, both yours and his ears are filled with tears.

“...max.. i don’t know what to say.”

“then don’t say anything but yes, don’t say anything but i trust you max. reassure me y/n, tell me that we still could be something, don’t give me false hope i swear. i know i messed up but i really didn’t mean it.”

“i swear max, that if you fight for me hard enough, then i’ll let you back in.”

step four - Say more nice things!!!

the next time you get a visit from max is a week later in the early hours of the day.

knock. knock. knock.

repeatedly max knocks his fist on the door, over and over.

quickly you get up, rubbing your eyes, stretching your arms and legs as you walk across your apartment, yanking the door open.

“max? what are you doing here? it’s…i don’t even know what time it is but it’s way too early for me to talk to you about this.”

“i couldn’t sleep y/n, you kept me awake, i couldn’t stop thinking about you and so that’s why i’m here. i’ve been losing sleep everyday anyway but tonight was just unbearable. i need you y/n, please.”

“come in max.”

so he does, walking towards the sofa when a cough breaks him out of his daydream.

“no max, if you can’t sleep then sleep in the bed.”

max’s heart soars at the prospect of being back into your arms once more, which is why he immediately scoops you up into his arms and dumps you onto your bed, tucking the pair of you under the covers.

it takes a few minutes of staring at the ceiling to finally break down and hold each other, you having the confidence to rest your head on his chest, that soothes you, listening to the beat of his heart.

it’s silent before the sound of soft sobs are heard throughout the room. the sobs are then followed by shaking. it’s max.

“i love you, so so much.” is all max can manage to get out.

“i love you too max.”

that’s all the reassurance he needs, both of you falling into a deep slumber holding each other, just as you always would.

and that’s how you get the girl.

a/n: so i didn't die but i've just been so unmotivated to write and i just keep coming up with new ideas but no words to go along with it but oh well! this is for 1989 tv xxx

#formula 1 imagines #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 imagine #max verstappen imagine

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coeurify · 10 months

Note

so many fics have the reader getting mad at ellie for getting into a fight with someone that flirted with you, but what if instead the reader gets turned on and y’all fuck all night 🤭🤭 (i would be so turned on if someone punched someone for me BYEEE)

ohhh anon i get you.. of course everyone in Jackson knew Ellie had a temper, one that was usually not tested. Many residents had been subjected to dirty looks or an awfully mouthy response from the woman many a times. So people chose to be careful around her, not exactly wanting to deal with a twenty-something-year old who had a mouth worse than a sailor. It was oh so much worse when it came to you. No one could say shit about you if she was around. Or not around. Somehow, like a second-sense or something, she always knew. Hell, El had nearly punched Seth once for just hearing he called you a name, but Jesse pulled her back.

This particular time however, on the wooden porch on the main street of Jackson.. Jesse wasn’t around to pull Ellie back, and no one had warned a particularly flirty new girl to stay away from you. Well… it didn’t end well. In fact it ended with the new girl on her ass, hand cupping a nose that bled crimson all over the wooden floor, screeching like a banshee at your girlfriend.

Your girlfriend who stood above her with her eyebrows pinched together, cheek bruised from a long patrol. Ellie was not in the mood to deal with anyone, and fists always seemed to come before words with her.. so this girl calling you “hot,” and offering you a drink at the Tipsy Bison.. just did not slide for the auburn haired girl. That fist had wasted no time in connecting with her stupid fucking nose, right there in front of ten or more older residents who looked on in a mixture of concern and expectance. Really that girl brought it on herself.

You followed every movement from that moment, irises pulled by an invisible string to watch Ellie make the rash decision, one you should pull her back from.. maybe even yell a little at her for making a scene. But instead of any anger creeping up your body, you feel something a little heavier. As Ellie pulls back her slightly reddened knuckles, muttering swears under her breath.. you feel absolutely anything but anger. Sure, maybe a little embarrassment from the old women who make disgusted faces as the woman below Ellie whines in pain, but definitely not anger. Something swirled low in your belly as green eyes searched for your own

Your lips part lightly, unsure of what to say, especially when the hand that had just taken the woman down moves to wrap around your arm, tightening enough to grab your attention away from where you had began to stare at the puddle of dripping blood collecting on the porch. Ellie dragged you away from the scene, stomping like someone throwing a fit.

“The fucking nerve on that— that girl, calling you.. calling my girl hot.. who does she think she is?” Ellie scoffed, looking over at your still glazed over eyes as you stumble along with her. The possessive tone in her voice only made this creeping sensation on your skin worse. The lack of a response has Ellie frowning, “Shit.. babe did are you mad? I just couldn’t hel-”

“No.. no,” you cut her off quickly, tongue swiping over your lip as you finally conjure up words— stepping onto the dirt trail that led to your Jackson home. “I’m not upset. Honestly, i think it was kinda hot,” you admit slowly, nose crinkling lightly in embarrassment.

Ellie’s mouth fell open.. because truthfully she had never gotten that response from one of her.. bursts. “Hot?” she repeated, gaining a little head nod from you. Her cheeks flush, one corner of her lip poking up like she may smile, “Get inside.”

You wasted no time in clambering up the steps to the door, and by the time the door is open.. Ellie is already all over you.

#sorry this is short…. wasnt feeling full smut rn #rins reqs ❀.#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams fanfic

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leclsrc · 1 year

Note

happy 3k mother! "quick speaking" and "animated" for dad!charles? thank you!

first words – cl16

Your daughter says her first word, but you’re the only one that seems to think so.

“Omygod omygod omygooood!”

The squeal from down the hall gradually grows louder as you bound into the living room, facing a roomful of your friends. You wave your phone around, where you’ve just hung up on your daughter’s babysitter, hopping up and down. “You guys, you’re not going to believe this. Felicite’s babysitter put her on the phone, and while I was saying goodnight, she said her first word!”

The game of Monopoly (you all wish you were cool enough for poker) ceases and Lily and Isa sit straighter, excitement drawn bright all over their faces. The seat directly in front of you shakes with how quick Charles gets up, smiling dopily. “Are you serious?!”

“Oh, yes! It was—oh, you guys, it was so cute.” You’re speaking so quick you can barely register what you’re saying.

“Okay, okay—ooh, okay, what’d she say?” Isa asks, clapping her hands together and gesturing for you to get to the point faster.

“She said bloviate!” You exclaim with a flourish of your hands, smiling widely.

The room visibly deflates and the game picks back up instantly. Charles even sits back down.

You frown, mouth hung open in disdain instead of excitement now, huffing quietly as your friends express amusement over your fit of unwarranted thrill. You pout, tapping several times on your fiance’s shoulder. He moves his Monopoly piece out of jail before turning to you.

“Hel-lo? Isn’t that exciting?” You emphasize, humming.

He smiles. “Oui, it’s great, honey.” He turns back to examine his money.

You pat again. “Uh? You don’t sound excited!”

“Oh, I am. I am!” He stands, disengaging himself from the game and turning to you. He places both hands on either side of your waist. “But sweetie, bloviate is not a word.”

“What?” You place your hands around his neck and scoff, laughing. “Um, yes it is?”

“Okay,” he tests slowly, “then what does it mean?”

“I don’t know—hey, you don’t even speak full English, mister.” You roll your eyes. “I’m telling you, Charles, it’s a word.”

“I love you. But it isn’t.” Alex calls for Charles to roll his dice. “Count me out of this round, guys.”

“Sure, we’ll bloviate your money,” Carlos says casually, sipping a beer.

You sputter, wrestling out of Charles’ arms and pointing at Carlos with animated excitement. “See! He just said it! Carlos just said it, it’s a word! Say it again.”

He sips again, inhales a bit. Then smiles. “I was kidding. That word doesn’t exist.”

You groan, flipping him off and turning back to your fiance’s amused, fond face. He presses a sure kiss to the corner of your lip. “It’s so cute, honey, but it really is not a word. M’kay?” He kisses you again for good measure and leaves you standing idly as he resumes his turn.

You nearly can’t believe it—you had all taken this trip with friends to spend a weekend off, and not only do you physically miss Felicite’s first word, but nobody seems to believe it’s a word at all. You huff again. “I’m looking it up, Charles.”

“Honey—”

“Up, up, up!” You silence him. “This is the real deal, guy. You’re about to be proven so wrong. You’re going to wish you stayed on the call a few seconds longer.” You type, frenetic, for a definition on Google and start hollering once you’re given a result. Your verdict is right—it’s a word.

“A-ha!” Charles stands up again, stationing himself beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. He kisses your forehead, smiling and shutting his eyes with how adoring he is not only of his daughter, miles away, but of you, giddy over a word that sounded like total gibberish to him just a few seconds ago. Screw it if he’s a bit jealous. Your happiness makes up for it.

“What’s it mean?” Lily asks, rifling through her stack of cash.

“Um, let’s see…” You pause, clearing your throat to read. “‘To speak a lot in an annoying way as if you are very important.’”

Everyone hums and nods, a light round of cheers and applause at the confirmation of Felicite’s first word. You smile up at Charles, slotting your mouths together in a chaste kiss.

“Can we babysit Feli next week?” Alex chimes in. “By the looks of it, you’re leaving her with Max a bit too often.”

#f1 #leclsrc3000 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc drabble #f1 x reader

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azsazz · 4 months

Text

Creep

Kinktober Day 14: Aidas x Reader [Stalking]

Summary: Anon Req: CC men, do adias lurking on reader in cat form and when she attempts to shoo it away in the rain, he appears in front of her (they're at her apartment door) and brushes muddied water from himself "is that really how you treat a guest? Not to mention royalty?"

I kinda veered from the og request but I tried to get most of it down.

Warnings: Smut, oral (F receiving)

Word Count: 3,520

_________________________________________

The streets are cold but you look warm.

All bundled up in your winter gear; the fur-lined hood of your coat pulled high over your head. The thick, knit cap settled upon your head and the scarf wrapped tightly around your neck, the bottom of your face huddled inside of it to keep the wind from brushing across your face. The only skin exposed are those piercing eyes of yours, accentuated by the rose of your cheeks.

It might very well be his presence that makes the alley grow cold. It is, but Aidas likes to think that the darkened, damp passageways hold an other-worldly sort of chill. It doesn’t feel like a cold he’s known before, it is one he isn’t used to in the existence of this plane.

He can see the way it overcomes your body. Aidas wishes the iciness in the air felt like more of a caress, a brush of snowflakes across pink cheeks instead of frozen claws dragging down your spine, but he doesn’t know how to wield his power for anything other than destruction.

He could crumble the brick walls in the alley but he finds himself wanting to break yours down one by one. He knows you’re hiding something, the way your pretty eyes keep flickering up and down the alley. It’s dark, and if he were a stupider male he’d think it was an anxious movement, checking your surroundings to make sure you’re not being trailed by the drunkards crowding the streets. But he prides himself in being intelligent. And handsome, but that’s besides the point.

You don’t notice the glowing iciness of his feline eyes, so pale they nearly glow in the darkness. His white fur reflects off of the moon, but you don’t notice that either, from the way that he’s tucked himself beneath the cold metal of the dumpster. It’s leaking something in the corner that he’s stayed far away from…after he’d stepped in the sickly green puddle.

Gross.

Aidas doesn’t know why you’re here, what has summoned him to the very spot you’re occupying, when it doesn’t seem like you yourself know how you’ve ended up here. The suspicious looks you’re throwing around are enough for him to creep from his spot, pad after you with that preternatural silence he only feels in his feline form.

You don’t notice. Not right away. He’s good at staying hidden, even more so at blending in, though his arrogance doesn’t allow him to keep concealed for long. As you walk down the long streets, he finds himself wanting those jewel-like eyes on him, not on the passerby and the avenue ahead.

He licks his jowls before mewling. It’s an innocent sort of noise, a beg nearly, and it tastes sour in his mouth. He’s never begged for anything in his life. People beg him, to allow them softer sentences for their crimes, the abhorrent things they’ve done to be sent to his plane of Hel. And not once has he ever given in to any of those pleas.

Your steps falter, halting. The ground is cold, slick with snow that has melted against it. Aidas can feel it in his paws, the ice pricking through his pads. He doesn’t care, it doesn’t affect him, as the cold is wafting from his presence.

Your breath puffs white clouds into the chill as you turn. He sits, straightens his spine and lifts his chin. It might look like he’s preening to you, but to him, he’s showing off, showing you his confidence, the little white kitten sitting so harmless before you.

Aidas really does feel like preening when you turn those gorgeous eyes on him. You’re suspicious, brows furrowed as you scan the alley, before resting on him. He watches the frown melt from your face into one of awe, and you’re approaching him with a newfound sort of confidence, no longer is the caution draping your shoulders down.

“Hello there, little kitty,” you coo, crouching before him. You stick your hand out for the white animal to sniff, so it doesn’t think that you’re anything dangerous. “What are you doing out here all alone? It’s pretty cold.”

As you say it, Aidas watches the plumes of breath puff from your lips. He could shift right now, tell you that it’s his presence that’s making the streets this cold, but just as you think he doesn’t trust you yet, you also wouldn’t trust him.

He needs to wait you out, play into your little game.

So, Aidas mews in response, creeping forward to nudge his head against your hand. You’re awfully warm, hands shoved deeply into the pockets of your coat have kept the warmth underneath your skin. The way you turn your hand to scratch behind his ears feels good, and his back arches in pleasure.

Before he can realize what’s going on, you’re lifting him into your arms, a soft smile on your face. He blinks up at you with crystalline blue eyes, head tilting as if in confusion, before the cat rests in the crook of your arms, seemingly wanting to come home with you as badly as you want him to.

“Yeah, you want to come home with me, little guy? Alright, let’s go.”

Little guy? Aidas would hiss, but he doesn’t like to lean into his cat-like tendencies when he’s in this form. Despite the fact that he finds himself purring into your chest. He stops when he realizes.

The warmth of your body is comforting against the chill of the outdoors. So comfortable that he shuts his eyes and revels in it, allowing you to take him back to your apartment.

He doesn’t realize he’d fallen asleep until you’re placing him down to shuck off your winter gear. He mewls tiredly, already missing the loss of your warmth. He blinks, looking around, tail flicking somewhat impatiently when you don’t acknowledge his mew, instead heading into your kitchen to wash up and fetch a damp towel to clean his paw off with.

Your touch is gentle against his paw. He wonders if he shifted right here, right now, if you would let him bend you over your couch and claim you like the primal part of him wants to. But Aidas doesn’t change, he doesn’t want to scare you away.

Not yet.

You carry him into your room, placing him on the bed where he curls into a tiny ball. You coo at him and it should annoy him, how you’re coddling him, a demon for Solas’ sake, but he enjoys it, because when he switches forms, you won’t be looking at him like that.

He doesn’t follow you into the bathroom like he wants, and you come back changed into a comfortable shirt but no pants. It makes his back curl, and he squeezes his eyes shut, willing the heat creeping towards his cock away.

“Okay, kitty. Time for cuddles,” you coo, scooping him from his spot as you shuffle under the covers. You place the white cat across your stomach, and he scooches up, resting his head between the valley of your breasts.

He purrs loudly when you begin to stroke his white fur. He’s soft and loving, and the noises he’s making helps take your mind off of the weariness you’ve been feeling lately, when you go out and feel eyes following your every move.

The kitten’s rhythmic purring and its warmth against your chest sends you into a peaceful slumber.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Iciness wakes you.

You blink, the room still filled with darkness, letting you know that it is not yet morning and still have time to sleep.

It’s freezing in the room, but the fireplace is still raging with flames in the corner of the room. Your nose is cold, and the covers are tucked all the way up to your chin, but you’re still shivering.

The heat at your back doesn’t help much either.

And something doesn’t feel right. Where there was a warmth across your chest of a cat you’d fallen asleep with, it’s no longer there.

“Aidas,” you whisper, rolling over as you seek him out. He could be pressed against your back instead, so you’re careful as you do so, but your tiredness leaves your body in a rush as you’re met with those bright blue eyes of the kitten you found, only in the form of a fae now.

You screech, trying to shove yourself away from him. If you scream loud enough perhaps your neighbor will call the Aux. Maybe they’ll even make it to your place before the male in your bed kills you.

Aidas has no intentions of doing that, though. He rolls, pinning you to the bed with his hands around your wrists and his hips planted firmly against yours. Your gasp gets stuck in your throat at the feeling of his full cock heavy against your cunt. The only thing stopping him from entering you is the thin fabric of your panties, but as you struggle against his iron grip, the feeling of the crown on his cock pressing into you has you nearly biting through your lip.

“Who are you? Where did you come from?” You whimper, forcing your body still. The air in the room had plummeted, but his body is hot against yours. The pale blue of his eyes nearly glows in the dark, and whispers of his bright blond hair tickle your cheeks as he leans in further.

“Is that really how you treat a guest?” He says, and the liquidity of his voice sounds just like that of a purring cat. His chest rumbles with it, sending shockwaves down your body, collecting between the apex of your legs. The muscles of your thighs jump and Aidas sinks further, a rolling tease that forces the whimper from your mouth. “Not to mention royalty?”

“It is when I don’t know who the fuck you are or how you’ve gotten in my room,” you retort harshly, but the feeling of his taut body against yours attempts to negate the threat lining your voice. He’s much too handsome to be here for anything less than sex. Will he take what he wants from you and more? Why does the thought of him taking exactly what he wants from you causing your cunt to tremble?

The stranger on top of you stares you down, and while it should make you uneasy, it makes you flush. Those piercing eyes remind you of something so familiar, kind of like the kitten you’d rescued from the frozen streets.

Your kitten. Where the fuck is your kitten? Anger lances your body and you buck, struggling anew, but your strength seems to be no match for the male bolting you to the bed with his own body.

“Where is my cat?”

The corner of his mouth quirks at the corner and the beauty of it stuns you for a moment, body falling lax. “You mean you don’t recognize your little kitten?” he all but purrs, leaning down to lap at the sensitive spot of your throat much like how the kitten had lapped with scratchy tongue there. It feels much more sensual now, and your chin tucks away as your eyes flutter shut, giving the stranger more room to work. “I am him, kit.”

“How—” you struggle for breath, “How is that possible?”

Kitten licking across your jaw, Aidas continues. “The first rule about Lunathion, kitten, is not to allow anything inside of your home. Especially, a Prince of Hel.”

Your body fights a shiver creeping up your spine. A Prince of Hel? This male on top of you is one of the Princes of Hel?

All of the warmth leaves your body, replaced by an ice cold dread only he can conjure. But still, your fingers curl into the skin of his tight hips, keeping him pressed firmly into you.

You’ve heard of the Princes of Hel, all seven of them, but you hadn’t known how often they had wandered this plane of existence, nor that they were capable of shifting into animals, let alone such a pristine, innocent looking one much like this one can.

“Which one are you?” You breathe. It’s shallow, as if you might be scared taking too deeply of an inhale of his exquisite scent might drive the last of your self-control from your body. The hot press of his cock at your slick entrance is a jarring reminder that he may be here to hurt you, but there will be pleasure involved first.

Your question seems to strike him, though, confusion crossing his features for a flicker of a second before they’re turning feline again, smile pulling high at the corners and his blue eyes gleaming. You’re not afraid of him, not as much as you should be for a female in front of a Prince. He can smell the sweetness in the air, of your arousal cut with the sharper scent of your fear, and it is utterly delectable.

“Aidas,” he offers with a roll of his hips. “Prince of the Chasm.”

“Aidas,” you echo, but it’s more of a moan. Your fingers glide across his smooth skin of their own violation, tracing the hills and grooves of muscle packing his lithe body.

He growls at your name on his lips. Never has it sounded so perfect, so powerful, than it is now, a plea for more on your tongue.

Aidas’ mouth is hot and claiming as he crawls down your body, removing the shirt you’re wearing as he goes. The fabric reveals the curve of your breasts, which he takes in hand, brushing over your pert nipple with a flick of his tongue while he massages the other, drawing a sharp inhale from you. He’s never tasted anything so euphoric, so addicting. Lust roils through his body as if he’s been hit over the head with it, his light touches turning more forceful, teeth nipping, pulling at the bud of your nipple as he leans back, taking it with him.

You cry out, hips lifting off of the bed to follow him. Your fingers find his silky locks, fisting them as he manhandles you, does so as he pleases with your pliant body. It feels like roles are being reversed, like he’s going to be worshiping you instead of how you should be worshiping the Prince of Hel trailing down your body.

His fingers hook around the waistband of your panties, tugging them down your legs with an ease that threatens to snap your thighs shut. Before you can, he’s shoving his shoulders between them, draping your legs over his shoulders as he settles between your legs, taking in the sight of your perfectly pink cunt, fluttering for him. The wetness glimmers in the moonlight streaming through the window, and he licks his lips at the sight.

Goosebumps break out across your skin, the iciness of the room attempting to cool your smoldering body. You want to whimper, cry out for him to put his mouth on your cunt because you can feel each exhale of his breath against your keening cunt yet he doesn’t make a move to devour you.

“Say my name again,” he commands, and you don’t hesitate.

“Aidas!” You cry as he dives forward, slick tongue slipping between your folds.

It’s as if he knows exactly what to do with it, drawing a stripe up with the tip of his nose leading the exploration, the flat of his tongue following. He eats you out like a man starved, swirling his tongue around your clit in a way that makes you see stars. When he breaches your cunt with the tip of his tongue, fucking it in and out of you, a noise you’ve never made before escapes between your lips, and it spurs Aidas on.

“Please,” you beg, your nails scratching against his scalp as you grab his hair for something to hold onto. Your thighs squeeze but it doesn’t deter him, burying his face so deeply into your cunt that he can hardly breathe. It makes your back bow from the bed, legs wrapping around his neck to keep him pinned as you grind your cunt against his face, chasing the heat coiling your gut. “Aidas, please. Mph, I need to cum!”

He doesn’t pull away from your clit to respond, instead, he suckles harsher, thumbs digging into the meat of your thighs for a delicious bite. The temperature in the room plummets until it’s hard to breathe, your chest splintering with ice as you struggle. Not even the heat eclipsing your body can help, until he pulls back on his power and you’re cumming with a shattering cry.

Waves of pleasure roll from you. Aidas allows you to grind against his face as he works you through your orgasm, until you’re nothing but a panting, whimpering mess because even though you’ve come down from the best high of your life, Aidas isn’t done yet.

He’s pressing up onto his knees, stroking the head of his cock through your orgasm that drips down your thighs. He doesn’t give you a second to breathe or prepare, shoving his cock into you with a guttural moan until his hips meet yours.

You hiss at the stretch, hands planted at his hips as you writhe, struggling against the press of his girth. He feels incredible, stretching you wide for his taking, but you’d been unprepared, the surprise and stealth of his probing a shock to your system.

His hand finds your throat, curling around it with intention, though there isn’t a forceful pressure behind it. Aidas is showing you what he could do, if he so pleases, and the feeling of his large hand wrapped around your throat and his cock teasing your cunt in long strokes has your eyes rolling into the back of your head, a desperate mewl escaping your lips.

“That’s it, kitten. Take my cock like the good girl you are.”

Your response is so pretty, the noises you make and the wildness lacing them. The way your nails claw into his skin, raking red marks down his chest and back, the ice of his power leaking into the hot wounds.

Hooking his hands beneath your knees and lifting them to your chest, he pistons his hips deeper, harder as he finds that spot that has you going wild.

You curse, grappling for him, trying to hook your hands around his neck. “Kiss me, Aidas, please.”

His hips falter. He hadn’t been expecting you to want to kiss a demon. He’s afraid that if he gives into the urge to lie down and fucking claim your lips, the last part of him he hasn’t allowed himself to take, he’s afraid he might never leave, might never leave this little apartment that in no way compares to his palace in Hel, might never leave the warmth of your bed, of your cunt.

“I—” Fuck it. He just needs a taste, swooping down to capture your mouth against his.

The feeling explodes in his head, drifting throughout his body like lightning. The feeling of you, your mouth against his, sharing your breaths with him, sharing your body with him. He can feel it in every push of his hips, how accepting you are of him, of the demon who’d lied to you, who’d been trailing you, pretending to be the kitten he doesn’t often take the form of.

He feels your cunt constricting around his cock, holding on tight as you cum. You must be feeling what he is because the softness of your lips and the taste of your moans has him slipping over the edge as well, his orgasm wracking his body almost violently.

“Well, that—” you wince as he slips from you, mourning the loss already. Warmth trickles down your legs but Aidas doesn’t care, doesn’t want you clean from his cum because he’s pulling you close and tucking you into his side. “I’ve never had sex with a demon before.”

Aidas’ raucous laughter startles you. His fingers tighten around you and you’re breaking out into a grin, admiring the beauty of the male beside you.

“You could have referred to me as a Prince of Hel or even a cat, kitten, but you chose a demon?” He presses a kiss into your dewey brow, enjoying the way you nuzzle your hot cheeks into his chest.

You shrug, bashful. “It seemed like the right thing to say, especially with that tortuous tongue of yours.”

“Not my cock?” He questions playfully, and you hadn’t expected a Prince of Hel to have this sort of humor, to be this…well, soft. His hand trails down between your thighs, running through the mess of cum. It makes your breath catch in your throat and your breasts push against his skin. You’re not quite ready for round two, but you want it more than anything.

“Your cock,” you whisper lowly, batting your eyelashes. The gleam of your eyes has his throat working around a swallow, and you like that. A lot. “Is so much better than that.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

Kinktober Taglist:@bunnymallowo@jeannineee@icey–stars@hannzoaks@harrystylesfan2686@azriels-shadowsinger @alysena2 @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @impossibelle @glitterypirateduck @reading-moongirl

#aidas #aidas crescent city #aidas smut #crescent city #azsazz #azsazz kinktober 2023 #sarah j maas #aidas x reader

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dirtytransmasc · 8 months

Text

I want to amend this post, I need multiple things from Criston next season (and season 3, cause why not?) or I will be rioting (in no particular order, with various levels of angst/delulu-ness):

Calling all three of his boys "son" and similarly Helaena "daughter", that or his "sweet girl/boy" both would be preferable.

kissing his kids heads/foreheads. some instances could be; kissing Aegon's forehead as he carries him away from Rook's Rest. kissing Aemond's hair as he holds him outside of Aegon's chambers, his boy thinking he killed his brother. kissing Hel's temple when he visits his grandbabies (Hel angst coming later, savor this while you can).

Criston taking a private knee to Aegon, swearing to him like he had his mother, promising a duty that goes beyond what is expected of him.

comforting Helaena as she is plagued by dreams and prophecies.

playing with his grand kids.

sitting at Aegon's bedside while he heals.

Dad jokes.

bear hugging Daeron when he returns from Oldtown, lifting him all the way off the ground.

the dad "one armed hug shared in moments of fondness and laughter" thing, with Daeron.

Daeron and Criston sharing similar quirks and habits (not necessarily a conscious act by either party, but I still need it)

helping care for Aegon, being one of the few faces that keeps him some semblance of calm after everything, helping change bandages or sponge him clean. just soft moments of pained vulnerability and softness between a dad and his grievously injured eldest son.

praying for his children.

more... handsy... with Alicent, for lack of a better word. just soft comforting touches, like you would expect partners to share with each other. her family has been maimed, murdered, and/or sent to both battle and madness, let him comfort his (platonic) wife goddammit. let them hug actually, that's what I need, I need him to hug her.

sitting with Helaena and Jaehaera after B&C, trying to comfort them the best he can. Helaena going in and out of tears, sometimes she recognizes him, sometimes she doesn't. sometimes she is heartbroken beyond words, others she is angry. no matter what, he is there to protect her. give me a scene of him holding her as well, she needs it, she deserves a hug.

threatening Larys, especially if he pulls a stunt against Alicent like I think he might, knowing he can't kill him, that he's to much of an asset than they can risk going with out, but still hating him for what he does to his Queen. (see this post to understand what I mean by stunt)

embracing Aemond and Daeron, doing the forehead touch thing, each time they go separate ways, knowing any battle could be their last.

his last words being him begging Alicent and his kids to forgive him, apologizing for failing to protect them, for leaving them.

if we do get Afterlife scenes out of this hellish show, give me a scene of him reuniting with his grandkids, kids, and eventually his (platonic) wife. I'm begging.

putting aside a knife of his own to be given to Jaehaera if and when he passes, as a final means to protect her, even from the grave.

let him be emotional, in passing, when he's alone, let him shed a tear or two. I want to see the stress ooze from this man. I want to watch as the pain and death that follows his family breaks him down.

a clear difference between how he advises Aegon in front of the court and how advises him in private. risking a daggar in the throat on account of his son's blind rage and grief to protect his image amongst the court, but sharing a similar blood lust when it comes to avenging his daughter and grandchildren.

at least one shot of him standing with one of his kids' dragons.

just give me Criston being a good dad and (platonic) husband.

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leapdayowo · 10 days

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Redstone and Skulk OC time :3

Thought I’d turn my persona into a rns oc and give them a helsmet :3 I basically looked at my play style in Minecraft and took a few things from my own life and combined them to create these two! Short version about them below and a little story of their origins under that:

short version:

-Leapday_art (short version Leapday, she/he/they, the player) is afraid of losing important things in their life. He is very cautious about doing anything that could result in him dying and loosing everything in his inventory (sleeps through the night everytime to avoid monsters, barely visits the nether, strip mines, etc) +the cats next to Leapday are two of my darling kitties who unfortunately passed away irl, their names are Toby (left) and Toes (right)

-Nightfall_collections (short version Nightfall, all pronouns, the helsmet) was created from Leapday’s extreme fear of losing valuables and her grief from having lost valuables too many times. Xyr driving goal is to collect and preserve everything that xe can and to make sure there is always at least one copy

-other things about Nightfall: she is a magma cube hybrid while Leapday is a ??? hybrid player (if you read the story below this may make more sense👀). Nightfall can split into smaller duplicates which allows them to be in more places at once and thus more productive in their goal. She uses her goop-like body to write reminders on her clothes, then re-absorbs the goop later

-I think Nightfall would find himself as an organizer between lots of different parties/people in Hels due to being so dedicated to his goal + only being dedicated to this goal (his alignment is probably chaotic good because he’s loyal to his own goals and not to other people or outside rules. He does not take bribes or backstab). Also, Nightfall does not need to have possession of everything, but xe is trying to keep tabs on where everything that exist is at(this makes xem the go-to person for trying to obtain something in particular)

-I think Nightfall would become a sponsor (if that’s the right word?) for the Order of Remembrance because she greatly admires the work they do to preserve Hels’ history. She would also love Zedaph’s hall of all and definitely tries to work with private collectors to protect (and document/track) what they have (and she will keep what she knows a secret if it means protecting valuable things)

-Nightfall does not care about thieves unless they steal one of a kind things

-the doodles below were my earlier concepts, so Nightfall has green eyes before I realized it’s much more fitting for xem to have orange eyes

okay, okay, story time (because I realized the ‘short’ version was getting very extensive):

Maybe it had started in the very first world she spawned in. A brilliant blue sky that stretched over jagged, looming cliffs with forests scattered underneath. Trickling waterfalls and bubbling lava pits here and there. The natural beauty of the world left Leapday in awe and eager to explore what other wonders lay beyond the horizon.

It must have started with the first tree she broke, a squat little oak, one of hundreds in the forest. When the leaves of that little oak had all fallen, saplings littered the grassy floor. She should’ve been excited, feel triumphant even by taking down the tree, after all it’s how the journey had to start. Except, all that Leapday could see was the awkward gap in the canopy from the absence of the little oak. It felt like an itch unscratched, nagging and uncomfortable. Well that wouldn’t do.

They scooped up all the saplings littering the floor and planted one and the same dirt plot the little oak was uprooted from. Then they planted a few more just for good measure. The unease lingered, but planting the saplings felt good. It felt right. Now their adventure could truly begin!

——

In this world, Leapday’s only companions were the pigs and sheep that he passed on his journey, though he would argue, if there were someone to argue with, that the world itself brought him company enough. That the days and nights passing was a conversation between the universe and Leapday, and thus a consistent companion. And what gifts did the universe provide for him to find! Rushing rivers that fed into powerful oceans, plenty of trees to sleep in and collect, and mountains to climb with the best views of the sunset. Never a dull moment for him as there was always something new to experience and see.

However, despite all its gifts, the universe was slow to explain the finer mechanics of the world, such as health to Leapday. A week of traversing through thick forests and steep cliffs left them battered and bruised. They learned how to gauge the distance of a drop and how to place blocks to minimize the pain in their ankles from falls. A similar pain gnawed from the inside of their stomach, which they discovered was briefly satiated by devouring the apples that fell from the trees.

During one climb up a particularly harrowing cliff, Leapday learned about the unforgiving weight of sand by placing it under her feet in order to reach the next ledge. The block had crumbled in a near instant, sending her plummeting towards the ground. Instead of hitting the hard rocks below, she splashed into a stream from a nearby waterfall. When she had dragged herself onto land and her heart had steadied to a more familiar pace, she let out a fit of bewildered laughter that overwhelmed the panic from moments ago. She knew falls much shorter than this one could take days to recover from, so what kind of pain would she be in if she hadn’t gotten lucky and fallen in the stream? Something cold ran through her and sank to the pit of her stomach. Dread of what could have been, what could still be if she wasn’t more careful. She resolved to never find out what would happen. How unfortunate that her next fall would be into a pit of lava, the very one she had been camping at throughout the nights.

He was being careful, more so than he had been for the first week in this world anyways. That didn’t seem to matter because he had still slipped when placing the block before him and fallen. It was his first respawn, and it introduced him to a few new things like a punch to the face. The first revelation was the agony of burning to death, and death itself. He curled into himself, crying at the phantom feeling of the lava eating at his flesh. The intense heat and how the lava had trapped him in place and burned. It was a twisted version of the warmth of the sun, which was shining down on him and in comparison felt as cool as the air in caves. The second realization came slowly as the memory of fire ebbed. Their knuckles no longer popped and their joints no longer ached. The tightness in their muscles had vanished, leaving softer tissue on the bone and the emptiness in their stomach no longer hurt. They felt new and full of energy, ready to begin their journey again. How strange they had forgotten what this felt like. White scars from their oldest injuries and freckles from sun touched skin still littered their body. They had died, but now were in perfect health again. Leapday took in her surroundings, her face lighting up with delight at the sight of a familiar oak tree. It had grown into quite the study tree since the start of her adventure. Soon after her reunion, Leapday discovered her now empty inventory when she reached for blocks to place in order to climb the canopy. The absence of stacks of logs, dirt, and sand had her racing towards the lava pit before her mind could catch up. Panic pushed her feet to run faster and dodge every obstacle. She ignored nicks from branches in her way and the sting of sharp rocks on her bare feet. The timer was ticking down. Her items would be gone- she just had to- if she wasn’t fast enough-

She burst through the tree line and was greeted by the familiar heavy heat of the lava pit. The sight of it made her recoil out of fear of falling back in even from many blocks away. On shaky legs, she circled the perimeter and searched for her items. The timer was still ticking, but they were nowhere to be seen! She crept as close as she dared to the lava and swept her eyes across the surface of the pool. Then she darted into the surrounding trees looking high and low.

Nothing.

No logs. No saplings or dirt or anything!

This was their third lesson. You lose items after death, and lava destroys those items.

Don’t die, especially not in lava, and don’t lose your items.

Now they had to start over, and this time not dying proved to be harder than expected. More falls and similar accidents happened. Zombies began appearing, persistent in their pursuit of Leapday’s flesh. Then skeletons, creepers, and spiders appeared and introduced many more ways one could die. The pain from the deaths hurt, but they became mundane as weeks turned to months. Loosing items became more painful and frightening when Leapday discovered crafting. More time and resources were needed to start over after dying with crafted items, so they took to the world underground. They followed their instinct to craft pickaxes and torches, to chip away at the stone in search of more sturdy materials. They crafted their first stone pickaxe and found it to be superior to the wooden one.

Maybe it truly started with that wooden pickaxe. When she crafted the stone tools, the wooden pickaxe sat in her hotbar, still good for half a day’s work but now obsolete. It had served her well to progress her journey, a necessary step, but it felt wrong to simply set it aside. It felt like the gap in the canopy all over again, but she very well couldn’t plant the pickaxe in the ground and solve her unease. Not sure what else to do, she attached it to her hip and went on with her day. She wouldn’t destroy it or toss it, she would simply carry it with her until she found what she needed to do with it next. It became her new companion (it was her first crafted tool. It was the first and therefore the only one that would ever exist).

Now equipped with wood and stone blocks, Leapday built their base over their mine. The wooden pickaxe found its place over the doorway leading outside, marking the build as their home. It felt right, so they continued their expansions. Farms were planted along a nearby river and fences placed to corral cows and sheep. Torches were the one item they were generous with. They were thrown across their property liberally since their light would deter creepers spawning too close for comfort.

During a thunderstorm that had picked up abruptly one morning, Leapday poked around at their communicator. It was a lightweight device that had been attached to their forearm since first spawning into the world and never disappeared after dying. After lots of fiddling with the different menus and buttons on the screen, they came across YouCraft. It was an archive of videos made by other players scattered across the universe, documenting their own worlds and progress! With the storm still crashing down around Leapday’s base, they curled up in bed and began watching the first video that caught their eye. It turned out that he had lots more to learn about the universe! After waiting out the storm, and then the night, by watching these videos, he learned about other biomes and blocks still left to discover as well as potions, enchanting, and other dimensions! A dragon was where this journey led for most players, though some took their time getting to it. Above all, he realized he needed diamonds. Diamonds were what every player sought due to their strength, but they were rare and dangerous to collect being so deep underground. They were needed to further Leapday’s journey however, so collecting them became his top goal. Quickly he learned how impossible achieving this goal would be. Well, it seemed impossible after spending days underground chipping at the cold stone and coming up empty. Strange echoes rang through the tunnels and more than a few times paranoia of something (or someone. He had heard the legends of Herobrine) sneaking up on him was enough to make him hole up for hours. Grey, grey stone that went on for miles. Grey cobblestone trailed behind him when his inventory filled. Leapday found other minerals, but the sparkling teal of diamonds still lay buried elsewhere. He mined for so long he began to doubt that the rare mineral even generated in this world. That only grey existed. That was until he broke away the next layer of stone before him and found himself staring uncomprehending at the bits of teal poking through stone. Uncontainable joy broke through his shock like sunlight through parting storm clouds. They were real! Diamonds were real and right in front of him! Invigorated with new energy, Leapday got to work extracting the diamonds just as they had seen others do. The amount paled in comparison to the stacks other players had, but in that moment he didn’t care. It was enough to have found them and confirm they even existed in this world. That weeks of sore arms digging at indifferent stone and unsteady gravel caches falling finally amounted to their new prized possession.

By the time he arrived back at his base, the novelty of finding diamonds began to wear off. He had to admit it was a measly amount. Just barely enough for a diamond pickaxe. What good would a stronger pickaxe be with no enchantments or replacements for when it broke? It had taken so long to find just a few diamonds what were the chances of finding more? No, they wouldn’t craft anything with the rare mineral until they had enough for spares and back ups. So back to the mines they went, and excruciatingly slow they found more, and continued to reason that crafting them was a poor decision. What if an accident happened and they couldn’t get back to their stuff? If they were swallowed by a pit of lava? So much time would be spent only to be wasted. Almost like their thoughts and fears had manifested it, a freak lava incident happened not long after. Leapday had been feeling good that day, so good because their most recent mining trip had yielded 13 diamonds and another cluster just across a lava lake. As they bridged across the lake, plans of finally crafting their collection of diamonds began to form making them giddy. It was the type of giddy that made any obstacle feel like child’s play and beyond consequence. That they finally could start progressing on their journey once more. It was enough to distract Leapday from the crunch of gravel under their feet and for their pickaxe to swing off its mark into the unsteady floor. The ground gave way and sent her tumbling into the lava.

She woke up screaming in her bed. Screaming from agony of ghostly flames that ate flesh, and then from loss and frustration. It wasn’t fair! Her luck had just turned up for the best and now all of it was gone! Every plan to use the diamonds tossed out the window and into a burning pit of despair. How stupid of her to not notice the gravel! All that time for nothing! She should have called it a day and come up 13 diamonds richer with plenty of levels for enchanting. All her gear and tools and items from mineshafts would still be intact, but no. Her head was too far in the clouds and now it was gone. She hadn’t even had the foresight to mark the cave to return to, so sure of her victory. There would be no hope navigating the twisting and sprawling tunnels below, and even if she tried to go back, the sight of lava would probably be enough to make her hurl. Fat tears began dripping down her face as she cursed and wallowed. They blurred his vision, so with a few steadying breaths and a final gross sniffle, he wiped at his eyes. Then he went to swing his legs over the bed to pick up the pieces of his day and froze. On his hand, both hands actually, were thick black smudges of… of something. What was that? He reached up to his face and traced the wet tear tracks with a clean finger. It too came away covered in the strange goop. An incredulous laugh burst from him, which evolved into hysterical crying. More tears fell from his eyes and he let them. The tangled web of grief in his chest unraveling as he did so, and he felt the last of his energy drain away until-

Sunlight trickled through the curtains and roused Leapday from their sleep. Birds were chirping and the familiar sounds of the animals grazing and leaves rustling cradled their mind while the events of the previous day trickled back to them. They felt heavy and gross. Their eyes crusty and mouth dry as a desert were a sure sign of their emotional distress. Disappointment felt like stones being dropped on them when they pulled up their empty inventory. It really was all gone. They let their head flop back onto their pillow and took a steadying breath, trying to recount the reasons they should get out of bed. Maybe they would stick to the joys of the world above ground for a month or two. Take up weaving or painting. They had plenty of resources to finally build a barn and an expansion to the house. Maybe they would go with a grassy roof.

Yeah. That could be alright. With one final sigh, Leapday pushed themself up off their bed and dragged themself over to their cauldron to clean up. They could see from their reflection that only a few faint smudges remained on their face, which they gently wiped away. Crying black goop was probably not normal now that their mind was more stable to think it over. Or maybe it was normal? It had never happened before, but the players on YouCraft all had their own quirks that Lepaday lacked, so maybe it was normal for them?

It turned out the inky tears were a new normal. From that incident onward, whenever they experienced a great sense of loss the strange tears formed and sank into the ground. They appeared when Leapday lost their first wolf companion and when they accidentally deleted a creative world full of builds of an ambitious project.

Meanwhile…

in another world…

In Hels, black goop bubbled to the surface of a sea of lava. From a distance, the surface seemed its usual hungry self, shifting and popping as it patiently waited for Hels and its inhabitants to finally crumble in. The goop was not consumed by its hunger however. It stretched towards the netherrack shore like a snake in water. Once it had gathered all of itself onto more solid ground, it sat and waited for more of itself to arrive, bouncing and bubbling over the terrain in the meantime. They could only wait so long however, after all, there was much to collect and preserve and too little time to do so.

And it’s finished! Whew, I don’t typically write, so this was a lot to work on amidst all my finals projects (totally worth it tho! It was great practice). I wasn’t planning on writing so much about leapday, but then I realized the interesting potential of writing about players when they’re new to the world. If they are akin to gods, they still enter the world with a lot to learn. The goop at the end is Nightfall, who then went on to travel Hels and collect as many blocks and items as xe could before xe came across the city Evil X established. At first they were incredibly overwhelmed by the amount of stuff to preserve in the city and mostly stuck to collecting free scraps and garbage. It probably did something to gain the attention of a member of the Order of Remembrance, who taught Nightfall about their goals and a few things about how society/Hels worked. From there, Nightfall set off to establish a massive collection and documentation of anything and everything, working with people in the process but also quite an eccentric personality that can be quite a hermit when buried in paperwork (not many people are willing to do paperwork as diligently as Nightfall)

Also, YouCraft is YouTube in the Minecraft world :P I felt I needed to separate it from our version of mcyt because in this universe the characters are real and making videos about their lives rather than people playing a video game (at least that’s how I’m headcanoning it)

thank you @silverskye13 for providing some more lore about Hels and the Order of Remembrance (as well as Redstone and Skulk as a whole <3) as well as inspiring me to keep trying to improve my writing and thank you to @/yayforocs for inspiring me to finally make my own rns OCs and this post :3

#If I had a nickel for every time I designed a goopy character that has that ‘tism stare I’d have two nickels #which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice #Also I’m not familiar with using neopronouns but wanted to try so hopefully the usage is correct #And even though I use multiple pronouns for myself I’m still not sure how to use multiple pronouns in writing so hopefully that’s okay #So yeah that’s leapday and nightfall :) I’m not sure if I have any more plans to work on stuff about these two #probably just some drawings but I feel satisfied with this #I don’t want to insert nightfall into hels with a bunch of lore that might contradict what’s in rns #Wowza look at you! You read this far why thank you :3 here is a super secret item that will aid you in your time of greatest need #*hands over something vaguely shaped and seems possibly tangible if you look at it from the corner of your eye*#redstone and skulk #my ocs #my art #traditional art #watercolor #I tried to find all the typos but it is late and I would like to post this

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vidavalor · 11 days

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"Help may come from an unexpected quarter."

We can take apart all of God's intro to Good Omens in 1.01 at some point if people continue to be into my word nerdy posts but I want to look at just one part of it right now-- the end of the horoscope-- and how it applies to S2 in a way that I think helps to explain The Final Fifteen. That part is:

Help may come from an unexpected quarter:

A coming is an arrival. Gabriel's unexpected arrival is the start of S2 and 2.01 is entitled "The Arrival." One of the meanings of a quarter is that it is a coin-- specifically, that it is American money worth 25 cents. There is not a British monetary equivalent to the quarter-- just as that, if we go by accents, there is only one "American" angel in a sea of "British" ones and that "American" angel is, of course, Gabriel.

The quarter is the coin inserted to play a song on an American jukebox. Gabriel's miracle of a constant state of "Everyday" on The Resurrectionist Pub's jukebox makes him basically a never-ending roll of eternal quarters. So, in this way, Gabriel is the unexpected quarter, right?

So, let's keep going with this and see what we can dig out of the words in the end of the horoscope that God read to us in 1.01 that might relate to what going on in 2.06...

Help may come from an unexpected quarter. "Hired help"/"The help" can refer to both to those who clean and to those who cater...

...and also to assistant shopkeepers, in general, whose goal is to try to be as helpful as possible:

Remember how the opening shot of Good Omens in 1.01 is the word WAR but then it expands out and shows us that we were looking at the word WAR within the word WARNING? This tells us that, right from the get-go, the show suggests that we take a close look at its language-- in particular, the roots of words. How they evolved, their histories and how they are related to other words aka their etymologies.

Our first rule of language in GO, per the opening of the show, is to always look for words within other words-- which I'm sure Anthony J. "(d)awning of a new age" Crowley would also suggest is always a fun idea. There can be a lot of deeper meaning in this but there also can just be a ton of humor as well. Case in point:

😂 UneX-PECted QuARTer:

More seriously now, though...

Help may come from an unexpected quarter. Hell: From the Old English and the Dutch hel...

Help may come from an unexpected quarter. Our unexpected quarter is Gabriel. The Metatron makes Gabriel a fallen angel, causing Gabriel to make a run for it, and starting a series of events that lead to Hell coming for Aziraphale:

Help may come from an unexpected quarter:

Maggie: Well, I'm going to my shop to sleep behind the counter... unless you need some help.

Nina: *asks Maggie to go get her 27 different kinds of milk/creamer, all of which come in... quart containers*...which Maggie does. When she returns, Nina and Maggie make the coffee ordered by "The Metatron," which would have been unable to be made without the quart of oat milk.

Help may come from an unexpected quarter...

Homophony: Quarter/Courter.

Courter: A suitor; one who courts. Like The (Apparent) Big Floating Head who shows up with a body for the first time that we've seen-- in a suit-- and courts Aziraphale at Marguerite's... the same place where Crowley was trying to have a date with Aziraphale the day before. All of which was kicked into motion by The Metatron casting Gabriel down-- and taking from Gabriel his signature, much-beloved suit (and leaving him in his "birthday suit" as a result.)

Making Crowley an angel again would undermine the entire Heaven/Hell system. All the demons would want to challenge their own status because if Crowley could, why couldn't they? It would actually cause it all to collapse and there's no way The Metatron would ever allow that... which is a big clue that this ain't The Metatron:

Aziraphale's being courted by The Devil.

Help may come from an unexpected quarter. A quarter of an hour is, as we know, 15 minutes. (God also referred to "almost a quarter of an hour" earlier in her opening monologue in 1.01 before saying "unexpected quarter" later on during it, which I take as a suggestion to always look at the multiple meanings of words in the show.)

The unexpected quarter of an hour = The Final 15 of 2.06. Crowley & Aziraphale fade away from the final splitscreen during the credits at just about Minute 52, I believe. Fifteen minutes prior to that is the moment that Aziraphale leaves the bookshop with "The Metatron" aka Satan:

Help may come from an unexpected quarter...

The unexpected twist-- and realization-- for Aziraphale of: "We call it 'The Second Coming'."

Note also what we said about come meaning arrival earlier... If 2.01 started with an episode called "The Arrival" and featured Gabriel coming to and arriving at the bookshop, if what is said here is to be believed and there is a "Second Coming" that is coming... then someone is going to end up like 2.01 Gabriel.... only, 2.01 Gabriel was the Supreme Archangel when he was cast down, which is what kept him from being sent to Hell. Aziraphale has no such political power.

Help may (and Help may) come from an unexpected quarter:

God sent unexpected quarter Gabriel as help-- speaking through him to remind Aziraphale of Job and of when God said, in Bildad's summary: "Satan and his diabolical ministers may destroy everything Job owns, no questions asked. Hugs and kisses, God."

God wanted Aziraphale to remember when She let Satan take what supposedly belonged to Job and Sitis as a test and he and Crowley worked together to stop it. She wanted him to remember when he thought he'd fall for thwarting her but She couldn't have been prouder because Job and Sitis were not the only ones really being tested-- Crowley and Aziraphale were. They did the right thing and they protected each other and the innocents around them in the process. That is what they should have been doing in S2 in the present.

Aziraphale did not heed the warning, though, so God stood aside and let it be that Help may come from an unexpected quarter as a result...

A quarter = 1/4th. Aziraphale's four, interwoven rings in the magic shop in 1941 that take out the house of cards from the bottom, symbolizing he and Crowley and Gabriel and Beez, who are going to take out the Heaven/Hell system. A quarter of our Ineffable Quartet, then, is Crowley. He is the most unexpected quarter there is when it comes to Aziraphale falling to Hell and Hell comes for Aziraphale with Crowley's help but against his will:

Help may come from an unexpected quarter. The paralleling and foreshadowing of Crowley dragged to Hell in front of the Gabriel statue in 1827, leaving Aziraphale on his own for a time. Sets up the reverse of that at the end of 2.06.

Help may come from an unexpected quarter. A quarter is a coin, like the sixpence and the farthing were in 1941. In "a blink of an eye", only one of the coins remained-- the farthing had vanished. The farthing is decorated with a wren. The coin with the little bird on it is the one that disappears, foreshadowing "no nightingales."

In 1941, the coin trick led to the magic shop... which led to The Bullet Catch... which led to a different representative of Hell coming for Crowley and Aziraphale and arriving at a different door, after Aziraphale had persuaded Crowley to perform a different type of dance with him in public... Furfur at the dressing room door paralleling "The Metatron" at the bookshop door. Crowley sitting to the side both times; some confusion, at first, over who the visitor is...

...but help may come from an unexpected quarter and it did for Crowley in 1941 because Aziraphale actually is a pretty decent magician and he saved the photo from Furfur (and so saved both of them) the same way that he does his coin tricks.

From the line preceding 'help may come from an unexpected quarter': You may be vulnerable to stomach upsets today...

Vulnerable: In a position to be attacked or harmed. Now, split it up: Vul. Ner. Able. (or A Ble.) Also contains: Vu and Rab.

Vul (in Czech): Both an ox and an idiot. "You idiot! We could have been us." Aziraphale, you're being tempted for real by The Actual Devil this time...

Vu: French for "seen," as in deja vu, which means "already seen" and describes the feeling of having lived through the present once already before. No one is recognizing the being at the bookshop door for who he really is. Also, we've seen these conflicts before-- this is Aziraphale's same daily round of negative thought cycles. At the center of those thought cycles...

Rab: Homophone for Rabb: Term used in Arabic to refer to God as "lord" or "master." The Voice of God may be The Lord and Master of Language on Good Omens but She doesn't actually want anyone to live in her name. She's trying to get them all to go live like whales already.

Ble (in French): Wheat. It is, technically, a fruit that is cultivated as grain. In Hebrew, wheat is referred to as khitah, which is a pun on the word khet, which means sin. The wheat berry has the same fruit structure as an apple, which is one of the reasons why it has been theorized by some humans to be what it was that Adam and Eve ate in The Garden of Eden that led to their fall. Interesting that falling is being mentioned, no?

Ner (in Swedish): Down; headed in a downward direction. Well, that's a great sign... 😂

Ner (in Old Irish): A boar, which is a wild pig. See: Grice, mentioned by Muriel. (A separate meta on Grice is linked at bottom of this meta.) Boar is a homophone for Bore and Boor. Bore is the root word of bored, which is for one of the reasons Crowley said in 2.01 why Aziraphale might call him and is also a Crowley euphemism for horny (see: other meta linked at the bottom of this meta.) A boor is an insensitive person.

Able: To be capable-- to have the power, means, skills and opportunity to do something. Aziraphale is capable of being a boor and of being tempted and of sin and of heading in a downward direction. He is also Able: clever, intelligent, adept... which he will need to get out of the mess he's gotten himself into.

Also: Able: Evolved from the Latin words habere and habilis, meaning, respectively: to hold and handy. (See: below gif. TW for The Kiss TM)... and also: "What's that lovely human expression? Hold that thought!"

Stomach: Originated, in part, from the Greek stoma, meaning mouth. Yeah, 2.06 brought some mouth-related upset for Crowley and Aziraphale (and us lol)... just a bit...

Stomach upset/Upset stomach: Something which causes you to have trouble eating. An upset stomach is probably the best possible way to refer to a temporary Crowley & Aziraphale breakup since food = sex in Ineffable Husbands Speak. For more on that, see: er... honestly... most of my blog lol.

Upsets = Upsets. Some upsets over what's Up. Flip it around, though, and it's... Set Ups. Up = Heaven and it's all a Hellish set up. Aziraphale has been... what's that lovely American expression?

This upset is also a setup and a setup? Is a trap. The Hastur-Aziraphale paralleling doesn't end with their clothes/hair:

Help may come from an unexpected quarter. There are four locations present at the end of 2.06: The Elevator (in motion), Heaven, Earth, a and Hell. We've left Earth, gotten into the elevator, and the button pressed was Heaven, so... the unexpected quarter that may come in S3 is Hell.

But, also in S3...

Help may come from an unexpected quarter. Post-fly, there's two of them, so, unexpected quarter now = Ineffable Bureaucracy.

Grice meta:

Bored/Board meta:

#ineffable husbands #good omens #good omens meta #aziracrow #good omens 2 #crowley #aziraphale #good omens theory #etymology #ineffable bureaucracy #the archangel fucking gabriel #lord beezlebub #ineffable wives #maggie good omens #nina good omens #the metatron #final fifteen #good omens final fifteen

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