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sophiamcdougall · 11 months ago

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You're a reasonably informed person on the internet. You've experienced things like no longer being able to get files off an old storage device, media you've downloaded suddenly going poof, sites and forums with troves full of people's thoughts and ideas vanishing forever. You've heard of cybercrime. You've read articles about lost media. You have at least a basic understanding that digital data is vulnerable, is what I'm saying. I'm guessing that you're also aware that history is, you know... important? And that it's an ongoing study, requiring ... data about how people live? And that it's not just about stanning celebrities that happen to be dead? Congratulations, you are significantly better-informed than the British government! So they're currently like "Oh hai can we destroy all these historical documents pls? To save money? Because we'll digitise them first so it's fine! That'll be easy, cheap and reliable -- right? These wills from the 1850s will totally be fine for another 170 years as a PNG or whatever, yeah? We didn't need to do an impact assesment about this because it's clearly win-win! We'd keep the physical wills of Famous People™ though because Famous People™ actually matter, unlike you plebs. We don't think there are any equalities implications about this, either! Also the only examples of Famous People™ we can think of are all white and rich, only one is a woman and she got famous because of the guy she married. Kisses!"

Yes, this is the same Government that's like "Oh no removing a statue of slave trader is erasing history :(" You have, however, until 23 February 2024 to politely inquire of them what the fuck they are smoking. And they will have to publish a summary of the responses they receive. And it will look kind of bad if the feedback is well-argued, informative and overwhelmingly negative and they go ahead and do it anyway. I currently edit documents including responses to consultations like (but significantly less insane) than this one. Responses do actually matter. I would particularly encourage British people/people based in the UK to do this, but as far as I can see it doesn't say you have to be either. If you are, say, a historian or an archivist, or someone who specialises in digital data do say so and draw on your expertise in your answers. This isn't a question of filling out a form. You have to manually compose an email answering the 12 questions in the consultation paper at the link above. I'll put my own answers under the fold. Note -- I never know if I'm being too rude in these sorts of things. You probably shouldn't be ruder than I have been.

Please do not copy and paste any of this: that would defeat the purpose. This isn't a petition, they need to see a range of individual responses. But it may give you a jumping-off point.

Question 1: Should the current law providing for the inspection of wills be preserved?

Yes. Our ability to understand our shared past is a fundamental aspect of our heritage. It is not possible for any authority to know in advance what future insights they are supporting or impeding by their treatment of material evidence. Safeguarding the historical record for future generations should be considered an extremely important duty.

Question 2: Are there any reforms you would suggest to the current law enabling wills to be inspected?

No.

Question 3: Are there any reasons why the High Court should store original paper will documents on a permanent basis, as opposed to just retaining a digitised copy of that material?

Yes. I am amazed that the recent cyber attack on the British Library, which has effectively paralysed it completely, not been sufficient to answer this question for you. I also refer you to the fate of the Domesday Project. Digital storage is useful and can help more people access information; however, it is also inherently fragile. Malice, accident, or eventual inevitable obsolescence not merely might occur, but absolutely should be expected. It is ludicrously naive and reflects a truly unpardonable ignorance to assume that information preserved only in digital form is somehow inviolable and safe, or that a physical document once digitised, never need be digitised again..At absolute minimum, it should be understood as certain that at least some of any digital-only archive will eventually be permanently lost. It is not remotely implausible that all of it would be. Preserving the physical documents provides a crucial failsafe. It also allows any errors in reproduction -- also inevitable-- to be, eventually, seen and corrected. Note that maintaining, upgrading and replacing digital infrastructure is not free, easy or reliable. Over the long term, risks to the data concerned can only accumulate.

"Unlike the methods for preserving analog documents that have been honed over millennia, there is no deep precedence to look to regarding the management of digital records. As such, the processing, long-term storage, and distribution potential of archival digital data are highly unresolved issues. [..] the more digital data is migrated, translated, and re-compressed into new formats, the more room there is for information to be lost, be it at the microbit-level of preservation. Any failure to contend with the instability of digital storage mediums, hardware obsolescence, and software obsolescence thus meets a terminal end—the definitive loss of information. The common belief that digital data is safe so long as it is backed up according to the 3-2-1 rule (3 copies on 2 different formats with 1 copy saved off site) belies the fact that it is fundamentally unclear how long digital information can or will remain intact. What is certain is that its unique vulnerabilities do become more pertinent with age." -- James Boyda, On Loss in the 21st Century: Digital Decay and the Archive, Introduction.

Question 4: Do you agree that after a certain time original paper documents (from 1858 onwards) may be destroyed (other than for famous individuals)? Are there any alternatives, involving the public or private sector, you can suggest to their being destroyed?

Absolutely not. And I would have hoped we were past the "great man" theory of history. Firstly, you do not know which figures will still be considered "famous" in the future and which currently obscure individuals may deserve and eventually receive greater attention. I note that of the three figures you mention here as notable enough to have their wills preserved, all are white, the majority are male (the one woman having achieved fame through marriage) and all were wealthy at the time of their death. Any such approach will certainly cull evidence of the lives of women, people of colour and the poor from the historical record, and send a clear message about whose lives you consider worth remembering.

Secondly, the famous and successsful are only a small part of our history. Understanding the realities that shaped our past and continue to mould our present requires evidence of the lives of so-called "ordinary people"!

Did you even speak to any historians before coming up with this idea?

Entrusting the documents to the private sector would be similarly disastrous. What happens when a private company goes bust or decides that preserving this material is no longer profitable? What reasonable person, confronted with our crumbling privatised water infrastructure, would willingly consign any part of our heritage to a similar fate?

Question 5: Do you agree that there is equivalence between paper and digital copies of wills so that the ECA 2000 can be used?

No. And it raises serious questions about the skill and knowledge base within HMCTS and the government that the very basic concepts of data loss and the digital dark age appear to be unknown to you. I also refer you to the Domesday Project.

Question 6: Are there any other matters directly related to the retention of digital or paper wills that are not covered by the proposed exercise of the powers in the ECA 2000 that you consider are necessary?

Destroying the physical documents will always be an unforgivable dereliction of legal and moral duty.

Question 7: If the Government pursues preserving permanently only a digital copy of a will document, should it seek to reform the primary legislation by introducing a Bill or do so under the ECA 2000?

Destroying the physical documents will always be an unforgivable dereliction of legal and moral duty.

Question 8: If the Government moves to digital only copies of original will documents, what do you think the retention period for the original paper wills should be? Please give reasons and state what you believe the minimum retention period should be and whether you consider the Government’s suggestion of 25 years to be reasonable.

There is no good version of this plan. The physical documents should be preserved.

Question 9: Do you agree with the principle that wills of famous people should be preserved in the original paper form for historic interest?

This question betrays deep ignorance of what "historic interest" actually is. The study of history is not simply glorified celebrity gossip. If anything, the physical wills of currently famous people could be considered more expendable as it is likely that their contents are so widely diffused as to be relatively "safe", whereas the wills of so-called "ordinary people" will, especially in aggregate, provide insights that have not yet been explored.

Question 10: Do you have any initial suggestions on the criteria which should be adopted for identifying famous/historic figures whose original paper will document should be preserved permanently?

Abandon this entire lamentable plan. As previously discussed, you do not and cannot know who will be considered "famous" in the future, and fame is a profoundly flawed criterion of historical significance.

Question 11: Do you agree that the Probate Registries should only permanently retain wills and codicils from the documents submitted in support of a probate application? Please explain, if setting out the case for retention of any other documents.

No, all the documents should be preserved indefinitely.

Question 12: Do you agree that we have correctly identified the range and extent of the equalities impacts under each of these proposals set out in this consultation? Please give reasons and supply evidence of further equalities impacts as appropriate.

No. You appear to have neglected equalities impacts entirely. As discussed, in your drive to prioritise "famous people", your plan will certainly prioritise the white, wealthy and mostly the male, as your "Charles Dickens, Charles Darwin and Princess Diana" examples amply indicate. This plan will create a two-tier system where evidence of the lives of the privileged is carefully preserved while information regarding people of colour, women, the working class and other disadvantaged groups is disproportionately abandoned to digital decay and eventual loss. Current and future historians from, or specialising in the history of minority groups will be especially impoverished by this.

#ukpol #uk politics #fuck the tories #lost media #data loss #cultural vandalism

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slytherinslut0 · 14 days ago

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SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER

october 25th. tom — anal sex / sexual punishment.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST. | 2024.

summary: basically how i see a tom riddle punishment playing out. biblical tom of sorts. so self assured its impossible to piss him off so you go to lengths some may consider extreme but…eh. he knows you’re his.

warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, UNI hogwarts (obvs but just a reminder) reader and tom have an…interesting dynamic, toxic but also not toxic because it works for them, anal sex (obvs), sexual punishment, brief fingering, copious amounts of dirty talk, i once again utilize my favourite place in the school (the library).

"Tom—"

With a hand raised, he cuts you off. "Don't."

You blink. Swallow. Blink again. He's mad—oh, yes, he's mad—more than you've ever seen him and you once watched Abraxas Malfoy knock over his potion during a heavily-weighted exam.

That, in currency to this, is pennies.

You breathe in, try again. "Look, I can explain—"

He doesn't let you. Within a second his wand is out and with a flick of his wrist the room shifts to static—the glimmer from the silencing charm he just cast settles over your corner of the library, and you feel your fingers go numb—

"Why'd you stop?" He cocks his head, brow raised. His jaw is tight, the tension there burning into the space between you. His fingers flex. You can feel how much he's holding back. "If there's an explanation, by all means. I'd love to hear it."

Right—yeah, an explanation. That should help. Certainly, the man staring at you like he has bullets for eyes and knives for fingers will understand—he'll be completely calm once you explain to him you kissed someone else in retribution—because you wanted to get back at him.

"Well, I—" you push up from the desk, desperate to feel bigger, to level with him somehow. Tom thrives in this—having the upper hand, knowing all he has to do is stare at you, all stillness and quiet fury. He knows you hate it, that you'll spiral under it until you break and present him your neck on a silver platter. Until you hand him the knife and beg him to cut. "We had that argument, and I thought—I thought, maybe—you didn't—"

He moves closer. The air thickens. You're too focused on the fire in his eyes to acknowledge the sound of his wand clattering onto the desk—

"You thought?" His voice is something almost bored, like this is a trivial exercise for him—you can barely hear him over the roar of your pulse in your throat.

"—that you didn't want me anymore!"

You force the words out in a desperate rush, and the silence that follows feels like a goddamn canyon—you're just staring at each other, scowling in the wake of what you just said because you both know how utterly foolish it sounds. The only person Tom Riddle has and will ever allow himself to be vulnerable in front of—and you thought he'd leave after a silly argument.

No. You never thought that for a second.

And so, you try to save yourself. "Tom—I-I'm sorry, okay? I'm so sorry, I know I fucked up—but, it's not just me—I mean, you could have communicated better—"

He takes another step toward you, nodding along as if he's humoring you. "Right."

You step back—you don't mean to but the depleted space between you feels dangerous and your body reacts before you can stop it.

"Maybe—maybe we can learn from this? Right? A lesson for—for us both?" You keep talking. You don't know why, but you do. "And, maybe you could, uh, learn to talk about your feelings better?"

You wince as his eyebrows shoot up, mocking you without saying a word. Tom Riddle, talking about his fucking feelings? Right.

"I mean—you're just—" you hesitate because you know you're digging your own grave, yet he's still staring, daring you to finish. "—you're just so hard to read, you know?"

Another bored nod, another step closer. "Of course."

You swallow, stumbling back—of course Tom knows he's hard to read, that's the point. Every word out of your mouth is a wasted effort, a desperate attempt to reason with someone who's beyond it. Your ass collides with the desk behind you, boxing you in—and suddenly, he's there, right in front of you, all of his typical Tom intensity pouring into the limited space between you.

His breath brushes against your cheek, close enough that his lips could meet yours. But you know they won't. He'd never make it that easy. You can't tell if it's fear or something more wicked that twists in your chest. Dread, excitement—God, maybe both—

"You tried to provoke me."

Your throat tightens around a swallow. He isn’t asking.

"Maybe."

He doesn't blink. "You tried to see if I'd care."

You open your mouth, only to close it just as quickly. What can you say that he doesn't already know? You're as transparent as glass to him, and even that is a goddamn understatement. All you offer is a slow nod, unsure but weighted—he wasn't looking for an answer, he was looking for submission.

"And you thought, maybe, that I would come to you. That I would react. That l'd be angry." His fingers brush up your cheek, slipping into your hair with the kind of intimacy that feels out of place given the circumstances. And, inevitably, when the pull comes biting at your scalp, it's a burn you enjoy more than you should. "Were you hoping I'd punish you?"

"Well—I-"

"You know, don't you," he tugs your hair again to quiet you. Every question he's asking is rhetorical. "You know that trying to provoke me is dangerous."

You nod, fast. "I know."

"You know that I don't like to be provoked."

"I know, I know, I-"

"Shh." His lips brush over your neck, just once—a soft, fleeting thing that promises everything and nothing at once. You can't help the way you lean into him. "You're just making this worse for yourself. No more talking."

You choke on your stupid ego, but force a nod. You asked for this. You won't fight him on it. Not here. Not now.

"Good." He hums, and you feel your heart dance, stomach leap at the barest flicker of approval in his tone. His breath skates over your jaw, and you try not to shake. "You want to show me how sorry you are, don't you?"

You nod again.

"Good." He tugs at your bottom lip and something curls at the corners of his own that doesn't quite qualify as a smile. "Turn around."

With your heart on the floor beneath your feet, you nod for a final time before doing as he asked. You find that turning is a difficult task, though not due to resistance—your body just won't cooperate—a mess of weak knees and shallow breaths and tingling skin. You do it, though, with his hand on your hip, guiding you, directing you, pushing you over the desk until you're bent at the waist, positioned just how he wants.

It's merely a moment before you feel him pressed against your back, feel his belt buckle digging into your ass—

"What do you think I should do to you?" His breath grazes the nape of your neck and reflexively, you arch into him—his hands slide up your thighs, hips, finding your waist and the band of your skirt—he tugs at your zipper, you remain quiet. You know he doesn't want you to answer. "I'm sure you had your hopes. Your assumptions."

Tom Riddle, you've determined, is a torturous lover—a slow hand, a tease until you're in tears from the overstimulation. A sort of devotee to fulfilling your needs while simultaneously tempering his own. He's so very restrained, in everything he does—not fervent, not right away, anyway—

"Maybe you hoped I'd degrade you. Remind you of your place." He tugs down the zipper, letting the fabric fall to the ground at your feet—you shudder and pull your lips tight, willing yourself to stay silent as the cool air hits you. Tom's hand roams over one of your asscheeks, pawing lazily before tapping his palm against it. “Maybe you wanted me to make you feel it."

—he only rushes—he's only careless when he's angry.

And god, he's angry now.

"Maybe." You force the reply through the sting he left on your skin. It's past midnight—quiet is everything but you two, and you're almost certain he locked the door behind him on the way in. You let your head bow, eyes fixed on the wood under your palms. "Maybe I do."

"Of course you do. You've never been subtle." His foot nudges yours further apart, his fingers trailing up your thigh, finding the damp ache between your legs. Your breath catches but you hold still, biting your tongue as he teases—digits gliding through your slit, swirling your clit. "I know you thought about it."

"About what?" You try, though the question barely gets out before his other hand smacks the thick of your ass again, harder this time. "Shit—"

"About what I'd do to you." The hand on your clit shifts to smooth over the sting, rubbing slow, while the other works the buckle of his belt. "Tell me what you wanted."

"I—" you pause, steadying, gathering yourself. You know you have to give him something, but it's hard to think when he's like this. "I—I wanted you to be...careless."

"Careless." He says it like he's savouring it, rolling it over his tongue like candy. It's not a word that suits him; you're not convinced he even knows how. "You want me to be rough—to be selfish. Like you were."

The moment his belt is loose you feel those slender fingers dip back into your slit, two of them pushing inside your cunt without warning, stretching you open as his trousers slip down his thighs— he grunts low, a sound that cuts into the quiet as his cock springs free and he presses it against you, unoccupied hand slipping back into your hair, pulling you up until you're flush with him.

"Yes." You're not sure who sounds more hollow for it—your voice for asking, his for granting it. "I want that. I deserve it. Please. Please—"

"Please. It's always please with you," he mocks, the words a hiss that burn your cheeks. "Yet, I don't get to be selfish like you, do I? I still have to show restraint."

"I mean—oh—fu—" you choke as his lips find your neck, muttering something against your skin before you feel the sudden cool slip of a lubing charm coating your asshole and cunt. "Tom-"

"Despite what you might believe, I've never had much in the way of patience," he breathes, a confession almost, something deeper—something that feels like it costs him. "Not when it comes to you."

"Tom—" you fucking gasp his name as he pulls his fingers from your cunt—only to drag them higher until they find your asshole. Despite his haste he's still at ease, massaging, pressing one finger against it until you let him in. He sinks slowly, curling slightly, and your thighs shake—lungs deflate. "Oh—oh, fuck, Tom—it's been—"

"A while, hasn't it?" He finishes, pressing a kiss just beneath your ear, his finger sliding all the way in. "So tight for me. So—tight—"

"Tom—" a repetition of the last one, his name spilling from you like it’s the only goddamn word you know how to say. "Please, Tom. Oh god—"

"Shhh." He shushes, but it's not to quiet you; you know that. He's savouring this. He slips in a second finger, stretching you wider, working you open, and you're biting your lip to keep from crying out. "This isn't about you."

"You—" your voice breaks on another gasp, hands clutching at the desk. "—you think this is punishment."

"Partially." His muses as his fingers scissor, filling you with the most delicious ache. You're so slick, arousal running down your thighs, and that—oh no, that does not escape his notice. "Look at you, dripping for me. And yet,"

"Oh god." The realization crashes over you—it’s punishment as in orgasm denial. "That's—that's not—"

"Not fair?" There's a smirk in his voice, and though he doesn't say it, you hear the word that lingers beneath it: pathetic, pathetic, pathetic. He pulls his fingers out and you whine, feeling empty for half a second before the head of his cock glides against your slit, gathering your juices before finding its way up to the throbbing ring of muscle. "Isn't this what you wanted? For me to be selfish?"

"I just—" words scatter, useless, because you're trembling, breathing hard, and then he's pressing in, slow enough to save you pain but fevered enough to make you feel him. "Oh—oh—"

"Oh fuck." He says it breathless, as if it's an agony to fit himself inside of you. "Oh yes."

And it is an agony—for both of you, though for very different reasons. Tom is huge, and even on a good day, it's a struggle to take him. He's so deep, filling you in ways you'd forgot were possible. You struggle to hold yourself upright—legs visibly shaking, teeth gritting. He sinks all the way in, and in your mind, you can almost see the look on his face, the way his lashes flutter, the way his head tips back—

"Ah—“ he groans, a rough sound that's followed by a huff and a slight roll of his hips, like he's holding back, like he can't bring himself to move just yet. He yanks you up against him by your hair. "That's fucking tight, isn't it? This must be hell for you."

He's not wrong, it is. But it's hellish for Tom too, the type of hell the two of you inflict on eachother that is as fucking addicting as it is anything else—

"Just—" you manage to bite out breathlessly, but it's a struggle to make the words. "Move—"

"Make me," he grits, jerking your head to the side until your foreheads press together. "Convince me to use you. Tell me how badly you want it. How much of a whore you are for it."

Merlin help you, you moan at his words. It's that thing inside you—the needy, desperate part that's dying at his feet. You don't know what it is or why it's there; it just is, and it's greedy. It's not something you'd give into normally—your ego is far too big to give him the satisfaction of begging, not aloud—never in words that he could use against you later—but in these moments, you both learn to make exceptions.

"Dear god, Tom—please, just use me-" you push your hips back against him, one of his hands slide up your stomach, cupping your tits. "Please, l'm—I'm a pathetic, begging whore for you. God, I know you're pissed—I feel it—just take it out on me—l want it—"

He moans—a soft, almost gentle sound—and you know you've struck a nerve, the part of him that's equally as weak in the moment—the part of him that makes it all too easy for things to spiral like this.

"Goddamn you." Something inside him snaps, something that's been frayed, just waiting for a pull—and you've pulled it now, and oh you want, no, you need him to make you pay for it, to make it hurt. "You just—you always-"

He grunts, cutting himself off and in a way, it's almost like he's thanking you because you're giving him an outlet, something to take it out on. You test each other, push and pull and let the other break, because, at the end of the day, it always comes down to this. The two of you. Like this.

A sharp inhale, and he starts to thrust.

"Fuck!" it's all you manage, it's all you can manage, because it—just like that—feels the way you wanted it to feel but it also feels so much more intense, so intense that your brain can't keep up. "Oh god—oh fuck-"

"Fucking hell," he spits, like you're the worst thing in his world and the best thing all at once, and somehow, that makes perfect sense. He lets go of your hair, and you slump forward onto the desk, elbows barely holding you up as his hand smacks your ass, fingers spreading you apart. "So—so tight—“

You're a shuddering mess, helpless to it; all you can do is remember to breathe through it.

"That's it." Another smack to your ass, thrusts quick and deep. "Fuck. The things you drive me to do."

You know him so well—and he knows you just as damn well, and that's the point, isn't it? That's what this is all about. You're the perfect mix of wrong, a match that burns too hot it hurts but the ache makes him feel alive.

"I want to cum—" your neglected clit is begging for it, you’re fucking begging for it. "Tom please—"

At that, he laughs and it's mean and it's condescending and you love—God—how you love it and want it and can't get enough of it. His hips snap forward a little bit rougher and you lose a bit more of your sanity—

"You think you deserve to come, after what you did?" Another smack to your ass.

You don't know how to answer, and he doesn't wait for one anyway. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you—everything is so calculated and calculated and calculated. You've never once seen him falter, and you don't expect to see it now. You don't know if you'd survive it if you did.

"No." He answers for you. "You don't."

His fingers trace around your thigh, grazing your mound and finding your needy clit, your sopping slit, gliding through it—you moan louder than you should as he gathers your slick on his fingers, humming at what he finds there before retreating—bringing them up to your mouth.

"Open."

You open your mouth and he feeds you your need—the result of his selfishness. You love him for what he is and you love him for what he isn’t too. How he tries to be both, only when you ask.

"Taste that?" It's a whisper, something he's telling you.

You sob around his fingers as he fucks your ass deep—he pulls them out to let you respond. You nod. "Yes."

"Taste how much you want this?"

"Yes." A pathetic moan. The perfect response.

"Good girl." He presses the words into your hair, the back of your neck, along your spine. He sucks in a breath as he fucks like he needs it just to speak. "You're going to remember this the next time you think about doing something just to spite me, I hope you know that."

Of course you will. He knows it, you know it—there's no doubt in your mind that you'll remember this the next time you toy with his patience; the next time you give him a reason to discipline you again. And what's worse is: you'll do it anyway.

It's a battle you two will fight for eternity.

But you don't get a chance to respond, not that you'd have one anyways—because his hand is on your throat and his lips are at your ear and he's sucking in air through his teeth and then—

"I'm going to cum." He whispers and you hear the pain in it. "Fuck."

You shiver in reply; a whine of a whimper coming from the back of your throat. “Tom—“

"Shh." He shushes you with his free hand, gripping your jaw as his thrusts turn sloppy, erratic. "Fucking take it.”

God—you’ll take it. Of course you will. You asked for this, drove him to this point. You're both sick, but this is the kind that doesn't have a cure.

One of his hands moves to his own hair, tugging at the back of his head; it's the only hint you've had this whole time of how much he's affected by this, how much it's driven him mad. He's doing his best to keep control, to maintain composure and make sure you feel it—but it's the way his hand squeezes your hip when he lets go of your throat that gives him away.

It gives in to what he's been repressing.

"Ohhh—fuck—yes—" and then you feel it, feel him, hot and sticky and warm, filling your ass and holding you there until he’s finished. His body collapses against the back of yours, hips slow rolling until he's drained—until you’ve taken all of him, all of his anger and frustration and restraint along with it. He’s sweaty, exhausted, spent—forehead pressed to your hair. "You feel that?"

"You know I do." You're not allowed to sound so smug, not while you're in the position you're in, but you are. It’s why he loves you. "That's what you were looking for."

"No, that's what you were looking for." He nips your ear, and you hear the smile in his voice when he bites down on it and murmurs a, "and that's why you're my favourite," into it.

"And you mine, Tommy."

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gothicgaycowboy · 4 months ago

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✮ Aemond Targaryen NSFW alphabet ✮

My modern Aemond’s parents are Rhaenyra and Alicent <3

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

At first he’s not really sure what to do. He’s a bit awkward when it comes to dealing with the aftermath of these things. But he is nothing if not eager to learn.

Once he understands what you need he will be more than happy to provide it whether it be checking in on you verbally or just holding you after it’s over.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He’s a big fan of his hands now. He didn’t really think about them much before, but when you pointed out how much you liked them he began to appreciate them more. He likes how large and strong they are and how quickly he can make you cum with them.

He’s a tits man all the way. Big or small he doesn’t really care he just likes looking at them, sucking on them, and squeezing them.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum basically)

He’s got a not so secret breeding kink. He doesn’t actually want kids right now but if you let him cum inside of you it’s game over.

‘You want me to fill you up don’t you? Want all my cum inside you so everyone will know you belong with me, hm?’

D = Dirty Secret (a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s got a real bad librarian fetish.

He’s embarrassed of how cliche it is. He’s not exactly sure why it happened, but he remembers one day accidentally stumbling upon Aegon’s porn mag collection and coming across a spread of a woman in a library wearing small framed glasses, her hair just pulled out of an up-do, wearing no shirt with her tight pencil skirt hiked up to pussy without any knickers on.

He ripped the spread out of the magazine knowing that if Aegon told their mums about it he would be in just as much trouble for owning a magazine like that. He doesn’t know how many times he wanked off to that picture, but he had to stop once the picture became too crumpled to even make out the shape of the woman anymore.

Maybe one day he’ll get the courage to ask you to do a little librarian role play with him.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Aemond didn’t go through the classic teenage boy slag phase like all his other brother’s did. He didn’t lose his virginity till he was 19 but that doesn’t mean he’s a dud — on the contrary he’s probably the most educated about sex out of all his siblings.

His love of knowledge didn’t stop outside of school hours. He spent everyday after class making sure that when the time was right and he found the right person it would be just as good for them as it would be for him.

Did this lead him down some rabbit holes of knowledge about things a teenager boy shouldn’t know? Yes absolutely.

Did he regret it? Definitely not.

F = Favorite Position (this goes without saying, may include a visual)

Cowgirl. He loves watching you bounce on top of him, biting your lower lip to keep quiet for the neighbours.

He also enjoys the fact that it’s a position where either of you can be in control. There’s been many time where you have started out in control until he grips onto your hips slapping the skin of your ass against the front of his thighs.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous?)

Definitely more serious. There isn’t anything Aemond doesn’t take 100% seriously most of the time and sex isn’t any different. When it’s happening he’s a man on a mission.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes?)

Completely shaven bare, not that there was much hair to shave in the first place.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

He’s surprisingly romantic in the moment. He knows what being used feels like and he never wants you to feel that way. Even when he gets rough he always reassures you it’s all for your pleasure.

J = Jack Off (how often do they do it? how do they feel about it?)

Almost never. He would much rather have you touch him than have to do it himself. He’s patient enough to wait if he must.

And when he knows he won’t see you for a while wether that be because one of you is going out of town, or just busy with work, he’ll request you send him some scandalous photos so he won’t miss you as much. That or phone sex.

K = Kink (what are they into?)

He’s a secret fem dom enjoyer, not necessarily in the traditional whips and chains way but he just likes it when you take control. Bossing him around, praising him, maybe a few smack here and there.

He’s also all about giving what he gets. Being called sir whenever he’s in charge while he simultaneously praises and degrades you. It’s a balancing act he throughly enjoys.

And some good old fashioned exhibitionism on the side.

L = Location (favourite places to have sex)

He really likes having sex on your couch because there’s a few positions that are way more comfortable there than on your bed. If he’s feeling adventurous he’ll definitely be up for bathroom sex (clean bathroom sex that is, he’s not an animal).

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going?)

He likes a challenge. Whenever you tease by telling him you’re not wearing any underwear, or playing footsies with him under the table, he is instantly growing a tent in his slacks.

He makes it his goal to get you back every time and get you back he does.

He’s also just a sucker for you dressing up for him. Lingerie or skimpy dress, if you’re wearing it, he is ripping it off.

N = Nope (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He can’t deal with anything unsanitary or unsafe. Choking you a little? Sure of course. Choking up with a belt? Not happening. He knows how fragile the human windpipe is.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He feels guilty about it but he definitely prefers receiving. It’s not like he hates giving — trust he can eat pussy like nobody’s business, but the feeling of your mouth wrapped around his cock is something nothing else could compare to in his mind. If you offer to let him fuck your throat he will take that opportunity so fast you won’t even be able to comprehend what’s happening before you’re kneeling on the floor.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?)

He can go either way but more often than not it’s pretty rough. You have spent many nights at his place and woken up the next morning with a limp and a sore ass.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often?)

He’s alright with them. They’re not his favourite because he doesn’t like to feel rushed when he’s fucking you — he takes his time, but if it’s the only option he needs his fix of you more than he needs to wait for the next time he has enough time to take it slow.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks?)

He’s not really experimental but if you tell him something you’re interested in trying he’s down to try it at least once (unless it’s one of his hard nos of course).

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last?)

He’s a pretty physically active guy and that shows with his stamina. He usually only taps out once he’s dehydrated.

T = Toy (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Aemond doesn’t own any himself but he likes using the ones you own on you, especially the vibrator. He thinks it’s incredibly dumb when guys view sex toys as competition rather than tools that can be used to make sex better.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease?)

World’s biggest tease. It’s part of the fun of the game you two play together. Sitting across from each other at dinner with his family is pure torture for both of you. Sucking way too long on your dessert spoon while he wipes the corner of his mouth with his finger so he can suck it clean.

If he’s in a teasing mood he makes it everyone else’s problem. His poor mothers just wanted a nice innocent family dinner.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make?)

Not too loud when it comes to sounds besides grunts but a dirty little mouth on him. Runs in his family.

‘You’re my dirty whore, you know that right?’ ‘That’s it, cum all over my cock for me’

W = Wild Card (a random headcanon)

He has a throughly put together sex playlist. It’s a bunch of different genres and artists and he spent months working on it before he had sex for the first time.

X = X-Ray (what’s goin’ on under those clothes?)

Two words. Big balls.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive? how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Again he’s a pretty active guy, it’s like he’s in a competitive sport where the only competition is himself and the only goal is to fuck you until he physically cannot move anymore.

Z = ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He can get pretty worn out after it’s done but he has a rule never to pass out before you. He’s a romantic in that way.

#aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen fanfiction #modern!aemond #modern aemond #modern!aemond targaryen #modern!Aemond Targaryen smut #modern!aemond smut #hotd smut #cjs.drabbles #cjs.headcanons #cjs.library

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amongemeraldclouds · 5 months ago

Text

starry eyed

Tom Riddle never meant to feel affection. That warm, sickly feeling felt like indigestion and heartburn. An inconvenience. But Salazar, you had never been on a date. It was an injustice he needed to make right.

Tom Riddle x f!Reader | Based on this request | Fluff

✿ Masterlist | Event Masterlist | Tea Party | 1.9k words

It was just supposed to be another project. Tom Riddle expected you to just be another schoolmate who would let him do most of the work so he could have things exactly as he wanted. He never minded the work; enjoyed it, even. But he did mind having another student’s grimy fingers all over his carefully planned and skillfully executed projects. Just the thought of it made him want to cast crucio on whoever owned those grimy fingers.

Yet you managed to squeeze your way through his neatly arranged schedule. A row of clean lines and routines that made room for your squiggles and smiles. Literally. You had penciled yourself in his timetable “library with y/n for Astronomy project :)”. At least you had capitalized the A in Astronomy as all subjects should be.

That was how he first found himself walking towards you at the library. People respected him, was even intimidated by him. But you smiled up at him like you had been friends forever and he nearly doubted for a second if he was supposed to be there. He figured you were either naive, a lamb prancing into the lion’s den, or simply unbothered.

“Why did you invite me here?” He asked, placing his books across you in the library.

“Hi Tom,” you beamed, ignoring his question. “I’m doing great. Thanks. For a smart person, that sure is a silly question.”

He clenched his jaw and so you soldiered on. “We were paired together for the project so I thought we’d meet tonight to discuss. You may not be used to it Mr. Perfect, but I always help out with all my projects so like it or not, you’re stuck with me.”

“Fine,” he breathed out quickly. “Just try to keep up,” he said curtly as he opened his books to discuss.

“Maybe you’re the one who has to keep up with me,” you said, unfazed.

But he ignored you and launched straight into the project details and his plans. Your eyes widened and you grabbed your notebook and pen. Tom’s mouth twitched and you imagined it was his version of a smile. He really was going to make it difficult for you, but you were up for the challenge.

You may have also had a crush on him, but that definitely had nothing to do with the way your heart was pounding in your chest. School could also be intense and exciting. Ha.

By the third written sentence, you managed to catch up and gather all the details he had in mind for the project. You asked questions about the plan and Tom was surprised you mentioned a minor detail he had not previously considered. It irritated him, but you had also managed to earn his respect.

The discussion had been a lot more engaging than he thought. Though it probably didn’t say much considering his expectations had been so low, it had melted with the lava down the centre of the Earth.

You tapped on the table lightly. “Now that we’ve accomplished a lot, it’s time for snacks!”

Tom blinked, not sure if he heard you right. “What are we to do with snacks?”

You blinked back. “To eat. So we can take a break from all the studying?”

“I don’t do breaks. My focus levels are perfectly fine,” he stated.

“This is why you’re so grumpy all the time! You don’t eat snacks or take breaks,” you slapped a hand to your forehead.

“Ah yes you have cracked the mystery. You now know everything about me,” he replied sarcastically and you snorted. If you hadn’t felt so tired, you may have spent some energy being embarrassed for your un-lady like behaviour in front of your crush. But you had your priorities straight.

“Try these biscuits I baked and I promise you will know all about joy and the wonders of the universe,” you offered.

“So it’s spiked?”

You looked horrified. “I’ll have you know my baking is magical all on its own.”

“It’s bad enough that I have to work on this project with you. If I go on this break with you, will you leave me alone to complete this project?”

“Maybe,” you said, scooping up your belongings and rushing out the library before he could change his mind. You inwardly cheered when he followed you.

Tom didn’t take any of your words seriously, but when he bit into the biscuit, the buttery goodness that melted in his mouth made him feel like he was coming home to a place he never knew he belonged to. Not that he would ever tell you.

“What’s your favourite astrological event?” He asked as he savoured the biscuit.

“I love meteor showers, though I’ve never seen one before. Imagine seeing a cluster of stars raining down the sky,” you said, after a moment’s pause.

“Don’t have to imagine, I’ve seen it before,” he said unimpressed.

Your eyes widened in fascination. “What did you wish for?”

He looked affronted. “I don’t do wishes, I make things happen.”

You slapped your thigh and his eyes followed your movement, making you blush. “How could you not make a wish? It’s like having a magic lamp and using it as a teapot. Where’s the wonder and romance?”

“Magic is a science, it’s why we’re here,” he insisted.

“We’re here for biscuits,” you declared instead and shoved another into your mouth. He inwardly smiled. Sure, if anything were to be magical the way you saw it, he supposed it could be those heavenly biscuits.

He was sure that was the last time he’d meet you outside of class. But the very next day, he found your squiggly handwriting on his timetable again. “Library with y/n for Astronomy project + snack break :)” He sighed, but he secretly looked forward to the buttery biscuits.

You made good progress on the project as the days passed. Tom continued to be surprised by your helpful contributions. Sure they were unconventional and your process was far too scattered for his liking, but you came up with creative ideas and were equally as committed as he was to the project.

Tom suggested extra research for some information he wanted to include and you managed to read all the chapters he wrote down. All for the love of education. You were certainly not a girl trying to impress your crush. Nope.

The snack breaks were also not as miserable as Tom thought they would be. You got to know each other better and there was something strangely fascinating about you. Then there were those life-changing biscuits.

He sometimes found himself craving those buttery goods during his long hours of studying. The problem was that he could not get them anywhere else except from you. It didn’t help that you were nearly done with your project and would soon have no reason to see each other. That diabolical woman, he thought.

Something else stayed with him. On one of your snack breaks, you finally built up the courage to ask Tom about his dating life. He managed to deflect and turn the question around to you, but you didn’t mind. Hopefully you sharing would one day help him open up to you.

“What was the last date you’ve been on?” He asked and you watched in slow motion when he licked the corner of his lip to catch a stray crumb. You had to dig your nails into your palm to stop yourself from squealing.

Then you thought hard about his question. “What qualifies as a date?” You asked cautiously.

“Someone who likes you takes you out, preferably somewhere you like, and you spend quality time together.”

“Well,” you turned it over in your head, “then I guess I’ve never been on a date before.” You quickly added, “I have had boyfriends before, we just did things they liked and anyway, it’s no big deal.”

It had been days, but he still seethed at the memory. He was not one for romance, but even he felt indignant that all that sunshine and sweetness was wasted on boys who didn’t know what they had. That evening, he added you to his timetable himself. He was going to set things right.

“Are you sure you’re not here to m*rder me and take full credit for our brilliant project?” You asked as you followed Tom Riddle deeper into the woods. You hugged your coat tightly as the evening chill swept around you. The crickets chirped and twigs snapped below your feet.

“Do you think I’d announce it if I was? Besides, there’s no one around so you’ll just have to trust me,” he replied.

“I thought we were becoming friends,” you remarked.

“Never assume things,” he said matter of fact.

You gripped your wand tightly and walked on. He was right. You followed a boy into the woods at night because you had a crush on him. You cursed inwardly and vowed to make better decisions in your next life.

We’re here!” he announced. There was a clearing ahead and before you could ask what it was, he pointed to the sky. “Should be about now,” he commented. The next moment, you watched as stars glittered and rained down the sky. It was a meteor shower. Your eyes brightened, reflecting the glowing lights that dove through the sky.

“You said you’ve never seen one before and it just so happens there’s one tonight and this is the perfect spot,” he explained before you could even ask. He then asked you to make a wish.

“Only if you make a wish with me,” you said, looping your arm around him. You figured it was the closest he’d allow a hug. Surprisingly, he stayed beside you, letting you lean into him.

“Isn’t it enough to just watch this with you? You like it, don’t you?”

The pieces clicked in your head. “You said and I quote ‘a date was when someone who likes you takes you out, preferably somewhere you like, and you spend quality time together.’ Mr. Tom Riddle, is this your way of telling me you like me? Is this,” you motioned at the stars and around you, “a date?”

“What did I tell you about assuming things?” He deflected and pointed at the stars again. “They won’t fall forever, you know. Are you going to use this magical lamp as your teapot?”

Perhaps it was the shooting stars or the cold evening air, or being alone with the boy you liked in the dark forest, that made you bold.

“What if you’re the only one who can grant my wish?” You gave him your brightest smile and Tom could read all the words you’d never speak aloud in your eyes. He shook his head, a ghost of a smile on his lips and he brought them down to yours.

The kiss was surprisingly gentle and you wrapped your arms around him, letting your body melt against him. He pulled you in closer, his arms strong and confident as if you belonged to him. He placed tender kisses down your jaw, moving slowly to your neck, and as you gazed up, you watched the last of the stars fall down the sky.

The cold bit down your skin as Tom stepped back and you immediately missed his warmth. “You like me!” You beamed.

“How are you so sure I’m not just after the biscuits?”

You wrapped your arms around him, enjoying the warmth again. “I’ll bake you all the biscuits you want. Doesn’t change the fact that you also like me, which works perfectly because I like you too. You’re never getting rid of me now.”

Tom returned the hug. Not that he wanted to get rid of you anyway.

✿ Masterlist | Event Masterlist | Tea Party

A/N: Tom secretly liking biscuits is so adorable. A subtle nod to our tea party!

#blurb-berry cupcake #emerald’s tea party #amongemeraldclouds follower celebration #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle fluff #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle #slytherin boys #amongemeraldcloudswrites #amongemeraldclouds fluff

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myladysapphire · 5 months ago

Text

My Lady Strong (VIII)

Aemond had always been protective of his neice, obssessed even, insiting on keeping her sheltered, and purley his, he never let her stray far and following the incident at Driftmark, Aemma was rarley without Aemond as her shadow. How will the kind, sheltered girl fair in the dance of dragons?

word count: 3,115

CW: MDI 18+, SMUT, p in v, loss of virginity, oral (f and m receving), fingering, possesivness, corruption kink, praise kink (use of good girl) toxic relationship, manipulation, mommy issues, co-dependancy issues, not proofread!

Fem!oc x dark!Aemond Targeryen

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part

disclamer: i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and fire characters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all characters are his except for my Original characters

a/n sorry it took so long to update...but heres the wedding night!, next chapter will be a time skip!

(go to the divider by @zaldritzosrose, to skip the smut)

The feast passed over in the blink of an eye and before she knew it her and Aemond stood in his, or now their shared chambers.

Her belongings had been moved over during the ceremony, though they all seemed slightly out of place amongst his things.

Before, in the rare times she was in Aemond’s room, everything was always neat, nothing out of its designated spot, though his rooms lacked anything too personal, with no tapestries or rugs, nothing to permanent too show they were his.

Though it was no surprised that he seemed to have been own personal library in his rooms, with a whole wall dedicated to his collection.

Now the rooms seemed warmer, with his bookcase draped in her tapestries, the floor covered in her rugs. And his bed filled with her mountains for pillows and blankets. His room was bigger than hers, and it allowed everything, even her seemingly endless wardrobe to fit in effortlessly. Though apart of it still felt strange. Perhaps it was how the furniture was so different from hers. Where her bed was carved with sea horses and dragons, his was bare, bar the one carving at the centre of his bed, a dragon, Vaghar.

Her vanity had been brought in, all her belongings placed perfectly, her new chemise placed carefully on the bed.

Her maid, Jeyne, had accompanied her. Taking of her dress and her jewels.

She already missed her gown, hating that she only got to where it for a few hours and would never be worn again.

“Would you like to keep it?” Jeyne asked softly, as she brushed through Aemma’s hair.

“yes” she nodded, it was such a beautiful dress, weeks and weeks had gone into the design alone. With its ivory coloured, laced with gold designs of dragons. The way the were sewn in away that they almost looked as if they were dancing, some beaded with emeralds, some with sapphires and the others beaded with black opal gems. “its too beautiful to be discarded off, may haps we could have the dress made into another gown.”

Jeyne smiled softly, “of course, princess”.

The door opened then, and Aemond entered.

Jeyne stepped back, curtsying before leaving the room.

They were alone, truly alone. It was different than all the times before, this time she stood before him, in a sheer chemise, that left almost nothing to the imagination.

“Aemond” she whispered as he stepped into the room.

He wore a rich red robe, where he had changed you did not know, but the sight of his bare chest peaking out from his robe, caused all thoughts to cease.

“Aemma,” he moved towards you, smiling, his eyes filled with something akin to a predator watching its prey. “you look stunning” he hummed, his hands coming up to play with the straps of your chemise.

You gave him a shy smile, “i-I so are you?” she said, nervously.

He hummed again, moving her strap to fall of her shoulders, “are you nervous?”

“yes”

He hummed, his hand reaching up to grab her breast, she gasped. “good” he whispered, “it will hurt, but only the first time, and then…then my sweet Aemma you will feel nothing but pleasure” he vowed, moving up to take her lips in his.

She moaned into his mouth, her feet stumbling backward until she landed on the bed. She gasped softly as she did. He leaned over her once they had reached the bed, his hand gasping her chin as he pulled her into another kiss, before pulling back and standing between her legs.

He kissed his thumb as he moved back to look at her, taking in her form. Her hair messed slightly, her chemise had fallen slightly, only one move away before falling off and revelling her breasts to him.

“off” he said, motioning her to stand up, nervously she did, her hands going to pull her chemises up, “no,” he said, stopping her, “I shall see all of you”

She looked down at the floor nervously, before reaching once again towards her straps.

As she pulled her chemise down, Aemond let out a loan groan.

“gods, you are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen” he said, causing her to blush.

“I want to see you to.”

Aemond smirked, reaching to pull of his robe, he bared himself to her. His full form, the muscles on his chest, his half erect cock.

She blushed even more taking him in. “I think you are most handsome, Aemond” causing him to smile, a true smile. “but I want to see all of you” she insisted, moving her hand towards his face. He grabbed her hand as she reached for his eye patch. “please” she asked.

He hesitated, “why?” he almost sneered, “tis your brothers fault I lost it”

“but its not mine.” She sighed, “please Aemond, I wish to see my husband, all of him”

He sighed, before letting go of her wrist allowing her to remove his eyepatch.

He had expected her gasp in fear, retreat away from him. Instead, though she gasped, it was more in awe than anything else.

“is that a sapphire?” she asked coming to caress his scar. He nodded. “its beautiful” she sighed, before placing a soft kiss below it.

She smiled softly, as she took a step back, “have you…?” she asked, shyly, she did not know much of what was to come, bar what her septa had told her, and though she grew jealous of the idea of Aemond lying with another woman, a apart of her hoped he had, hoped he could guide her and teach her. All she wanted was to please him, make him happy, and how could she if she didn’t have him to show her how?

He nodded, smirking slightly, “of course, wife” he nodded, moving to grasp her chin, “but worry not non of them shall ever compare to you” he said as he kissed her once more. He held her face to him, gripping the back of her neck, his tongue teasing entrance into her mouth before finally pushing his tongue into her mouth. And ever submissive, Aemma allowed him to dominate her mouth. She moaned softly into his mouth, as she once again laid back on the bed, his body effortless slotting over hers.

His mouth slowly left hers, moving to kiss the nape of her neck before slowly dropping to his knees.

He sent her a smirk, as he buried himself between her thighs.

He licked her folds teasingly at first, savouring the taste of her.

She was growing wetter and wetter with each motion of his tongue, moaning softly as he started to focus his ministration on her clit.

He gripped her hips as he gave fast and quick licks to her clit, his eyes meeting hers as she gripped the bedding in pleasure.

“Husband” she moaned, and it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, for so long he had worshiped the sound of his name on her lips, but hearing her call him her husband? The possessive in him became tenfold. She was his, in the eyes of the gods and the realm, she was his and he was hers and nothing could change that. And gods did he love it, love her.

His tongue moved faster, realising in her moans. His arm still griped her wait, stopping her from moving his hips, though his second arm left her waist, moving his fingers to tease her whole.

She was tight, completely untouched. She gasped as he entered her, her walls clenching his fingers as they entered her.

Groaning as he imagined how they would soon feel wrapped around his cock.

Pumping his fingers in and out of her at a leisurely pace, as he sucked at her clit.

“Aemond” she moaned this time, reaching her hand to grip his hair.

He groaned as she did, before reaching out to grip her hand alongside her waist.

His fingers clenched around him, her peak approaching.

Her moans came more present, getting louder and louder before she let out a high-pitched moan, her whole body reacting as she came.

Aemond moved back slowly, taking in her messy hair and bliss ridden face.

She was out of breath, collapsing fully on the bed.

“wife” he groaned, his body moving over hers.

She smiled softly as she looked up at him.

“is that what it always feels like?” she asked, breathless.

He smirked, “It can”

“I want to do the same to you?”

He looked unsure at her request, though he had imagined fucking her face countless times, he craved to feel her hot cunt wrapped around his cock.

But as she moved up to kiss him, her hand slowly reaching down to grab his cock. He groaned as she nervously touched his cock, her face determined to please him.

“Aemma.” He groaned, as his face buried himself into the nape of her neck.

He shoved himself off her, her hands slowly falling from his cock to her thighs as he moved.

“up” he demanded, as she nervously stood from the bed. ”kneel”. She did so hesitantly, looking up at him with nervous doe eyes.

The sight alone was enough for him to cum.

his hand gripped her jaw as she looked up at him, his thumb pushing into her mouth slowly. “suck” he demanded, as her reached to tuck her hair behind her ear.

She complied without complaint, gently sucking on his thumb as he pushed it into her mouth. He groaned as she did, moving his thumb out of his mouth.

“kiss it” he said, pushing his hips so his cock moved closer to her face.

She looked up at him unsure as she kissed his tip. Her lips were soft an gentle as they kissed the tip of his cock.

“again” he groaned, as she kissed it again, her hands laid pliantly on her knees , her hair now gripped between his hands as he made a makeshift bun as he held her head to his cock as she started to pepper kisses across his cock.

“fuck, Aemma” he moaned, “open” he said, and as she did, he slowly pushed his cock between her lips.

her mouth case warm, the feeling of her mouth felt almost as delightful as he imagined the walls of her cunt would feel like wrapped around his cock.

her hands slowly moved up from where they say on your knees. One hand gripped his waist, in an attempt to stabilise herself as Aemond moved her head to bob up and down his cock. the other went to reach for the base of his cock, he barley fit in her mouth, and as she gagged around his cock, causing him to groan and the eyes rolling back.

“fuck” he groaned again, “use your hand to grab what cannot fit” he moaned, moving your head faster, “move it up an- yes like that, good girl” he moaned as she started to motion her hand up and down on the part of her cock she couldn’t fit into her mouth.

He moved his hand to grip the back of her neck, his hips now thrusting forward as he slowly started to fuck her face. Though he didn’t for long as before he knew it he could feel his own peak approaching.

He tore himself from her mouth, causing her to groan at the loss of him in her mouth.

She looked up at him, bewildered, before reaching forward in an attempt to take him back in her mouth.

“no, Aemma” he laughed, pulling her body up from the floor. “on the bed.” He said, as he himself moved to lay back, patting the space beside him.

She crawled across the bed to him, stopping in front of him. His legs were spread, and she crawled into his lap, softly kissing his lips.

She could taste herself on his tongue and she was sure he could taste himself on her own tongue.

She could feel his cock between her thighs, edging closer to her cunt.

“lay back” he said against her lips.

Laying down on the bed, Aemond once again crawled on top of her. His hand moved down to her cunt, his finger gathering up her wetness as he once again teased her entrance, he pushed two fingers into her slowly, stretching her more so that he had before, preparing her for his cock.

She moaned as he did so, the stretch delightful as he pumped her full, but she still craved more, she craved his cock.

“please” she begged.

“please what?” he hummed, pumping her slowly.

“I want you” she moaned.

“you have me.” “no…I want your…your cock” she whispered the last word, feeling dirty from saying it .

“my cock?” he teased, as he removed his fingers from her.

“Yes!” she groaned, moving to grab him, “please”

He hummed, smiling softly as he positioned himself between her thighs.

He kissed her softly as he slowly pushed into her.

Her face scrunched discomfort as he stretch her and broke her maidenhead. He pushed into her slowly, allowing her to adjust to his length.

He moaned as he fully entered her, her tight walls encasing his cock in such a delightful way.

“gods, Aemma” he moaned, as he buried his head into the nape of her neck.

“move, please” she begged after a moment, her hands moving to grip his arms, as he slowly started to thrust his hips into her. He started of slowly, allowing her time to adjust, but as she started to roll her hips into his. He began to pick up his face, slowly setting a fast rhyme. His hand moving from her sides to grip the head board as he started to pound into her.

Her moans grew louder and more high pitched, her legs moving to wrap around his waist.

“keep your eyes on me” he groaned as she closed her eyes in pleasure, her legs fell from his hips, her eyes fully fixed on his as she started to reach her peak.

The eye contact was like nothing she had experienced before. His eyes were dark, possessive, and yet also filled with love. The pure amount of emotions in her eyes pushed her to competition, as she let out a high pitched squeal, her arms gripping his pack, living small scratches as she came.

Her cunt wrapped tightly around his cock, causing Aemond o let outa moan of his own as he worked her through her orgasm, before finally letting go himself, filling her with his cum.

They got little sleep that night, with scarce few minutes before being awoke once more to heated touches, her cunt stretches with his cock in more ways than she could count. She have never felt anything like it, the pleasure beyond imaginable.

As she awoke now she traced the lines of Aemond’s face gently, taking in his beauty. He was truly spectacular, all sharp lines and edges, his silver hair and purple eye. She envied his beauty, how Valyrian he looked and how little she did.

She hoped there children would inherit his beauty and not hers. She adored the idea of carry a little Aemond.

She smiled softly as she played with his hair, only stopping when a knock was sounded on her door.

Grabbing her robe, and quickly brushing her hair she opened the door, only to face her mother.

She smiled softly as she greeted her, “mother” she said, motioning her to step inside, her mother grimacing slightly as she took in Aemond’s sleeping from. “what can I do for you?”

Her mother sighed, looking down in shame “ we are leaving…now”

“what?”

“I- we cannot be here much longer, the- we are unwelcome so we have decided it best to leave.”

“but I just got married, I thought you would stay at least a few more days”

“I know…im sorry”

Aemma scoffed, “sorry? You do not write me, show up for a few days and then leave again! You are not sorry! You just don’t want me! I doubt you ever did!” she cried in aguish.

“no.. no Aemma, dōna riña, that’s not true.” She moved towards, her reaching for her hands only to be met with Aemma’s rejection, nyke bardutan ao naenie letters, kīvin zijo. nyke dōrī jiōraton aōhon se nyke pendagon bona se greens- alicent se aemond hid zirȳ hen ao naejot gūrogon ao hen nyke” her mother spoke, chaing to high valyrian as if to keep what she ahd to say a secret.

i wrote you many letters, i swear it. i never got yours and i think that the greens- Alicent and Aemond hid them from you to take you from me.

“daor daor, nyke ȳdra daor belive ao!”

No no, I don’t believe you!

“iksan telling se truth, ñuha jorrāelagon, emā issare torn hen nyke se kostan daor bare naejot ūndegon ziry. eman issare vēttan ezīmagon iā issaros se kicked hen ñuha own lenton, istin henujagon”

i am telling the truth, my love, you have been torn from me and i can not bare to see it. i have been made into a stranger and kicked from my own home, i must leave.

Aemma scoffed, “nyke- nyke, aōha verdagon bē excuses muña! Aemond vestās ao would, skoro syt shouold nyke believe ao? especially skori īlē sīr adere naejot jikagon nyke qrīdrughagon?”

i-i, your making up excuses mother! Aemond said you would, why shouold i belive you? especially when you were so quick to send me away?

Her mother let out an irritated sound, “have I lost you complete, Aemma?” she asked sadly “I have been so blind, I should have come with you, should have stayed here-“ “then stay!”

“I can’t”

“I don’t understand! What have I done?” she asked, she was confused she didn’t know what she had done, why her own mother couldn’t stay, why she had left her.

“i- you have done nothing” her mother insisted.

“so you are leaving just because you do not like me? Or is it because of Aemond? You were always against our friendship, and yet you were the one who proposed we wed! you are so-“

She was cut off by Aemond, their shouting waking him from sleep, “get out!” he demanded, “all you do is upset my wife, I shall not have it!”

And her mother left, with no complaint only sad eyes and the word goodbye. The way she said it made her feel as if her mother felt like she had lost her forever, as if this was there final goodbye.

Next part

taglist

@melllinaa @zillahvathek @ateliefloresdaprimavera @bellaisasleep @aleemendoza2425-blog @bunbunblogsblog @theanxietyqueen17 @leavesmealobe @ka1afbr @winchesterfamiliebusiness @gghoulzz @dark-night-sky-99 @violet-potter @iamthehybrid @duckworthbean @winter-soldier-101 @apollonshootafar @deeeeexx @zzz000eee @meowtastick @flrboyd @cynic-spirit @wondergal2001 @aelora-a @amanda08319 @may-machin @sarahkimtae @yentroucnagol @loserwithnofriends @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @urmomsbananabread @azaleapotterblack @delaynew @adira033 @babyzzlove @tesha-i-guess @aemondwhoresworld @zimzala01 @aegonswife @littlebirdgot @justbelljust

to be added to taglist

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berryz-writes · 5 months ago

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Forgive me?

Theodore Nott x reader

Summary: You and Theo are in an argument and he tries multiple times to apologise (it works eventually)

I looked at Theo from the corner of my eye, hoping he didn't notice that every time he looked away I'd look at him, making sure his injuries weren't too serious. Just because I was angry at him and just because the reason he was injured was his own fault didn't mean I had stopped caring. Matheo who was explaining the next game's quidditch tactics to Theo punched him on the arm, grinning at something he said.

"Don't punch him so hardly! He's just had his arm fixed" As soon as the words were out of my mouth I couldn't help but regret them. I was supposed to be ignoring Theo not fucking defending him for no reason.

His eyes flicked from Matheo to me in an instant. His blue eyes glinting with amusement. "Stopped ignoring me, sweetheart?"

I clenched my jaw annoyed at myself for my stupidity and idiotic way of ruining things.

"I was talking to Matheo, not you" I tried to save myself. Well it was true. I may be talking about him but it wasn't to him.

His smirk dropped, sadness overtaking his expression "I've apologised. So many times y/n. What else do you want?" I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted everything to finally be ok but it wasn't. Not until I thought through everything.

I shook my head "It's been one day. When we decided on a break it was indefinitely" I was going to add a sorry at the end but I didn't. Because he didn't deserve a sorry right now.

I stood up leaving him to eat his breakfast in peace, finding comfort in the library with Pansy cheering me up.

*The next day*

"And will he make it?! YES! OF COURSE HE DOES! THEODORE NOTT OF SLYTHERIN FINISHING THE GAME WITH AN ASTONISHING GOAL. There you have it! Slytherin has won by one hundred and fifty points! Of course Hufflepuff stood no chance of winning when we look at the logistics-" Laughter rung out across the stadium at Lee Jordan's commentary but before he could carry on Professor McGonagall took the microphone away.

I watched as Theo flew around the pitch congratulating his team and doing a few loops in the air. He liked to show off and I didn't blame him. It was mostly due to him that we had won so greatly and of course this would mean another party in which I would wake up the next morning regretting my actions. Oh well. Who didn't love a party? Both teams were slowly descending down to where Madam Hooch stood with her arms crossed ready to shout at Malfoy who seemed to have not understood what it meant by "playing fairly". He had hit and injured a good few players in the process, even Matheo who he currently was annoyed at. Great person to have on a team.

I shifted my gaze back to where Theo was before but he was no longer there. I looked around and saw him talking to Professor McGonagall still on his broom. What was he doing? He took the microphone from her hand and turned to face me, the love with which he looked at me obvious however far he was.

He brushed a piece of hair away and spoke into the microphone, his deep voice amplified "Congratulations to Slytherin. I just wanted to make a quick announcement that I wanted you all to know. I am currently dating y/n who as you all know is the prettiest girl I've ever laid eyes on. I haven't spoken to her in two fucking days and it's killing me so please, forgive me sweetheart." He gave the microphone back to McGonagall as she berated him for swearing. He shrugged innocently and flew toward me. My heartbeat increasing as the distance between us decreased. Half the crowd had already left, either to mope over their loss or to prepare for the party while the other half was whistling and cheering. Their voices were all a blur as I focused on one person only.

He finally reached me, hopping off his broom he stood in front of me, his eyes piercing me. "Forgive me?"

I smiled up at him. He was too perfect to deny. I nodded my head, he took this as a sign to lean down and place his perfect lips on mine, his hands coming to rest on my waist.

Stepping back, the crowds noise suddenly sounded ten times louder, everyone was cheering while Pansy and Astoria were grinning like crazy next to me.

"You better treat her right from now on" Pansy said, her smile dropping and her eyes suddenly turning icy.

"I will. I promise"

#theodore nott x you #theo nott x reader #theo nott x you #theo x you #theo x reader #theo nott imagine #theo nott x y/n #theodore nott x slytherin!reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x reader

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olderthannetfic · 30 days ago

Note

I think preferences in fiction does have some (keyword some) correlation to what your irl morals are though. If someone's favorite movie is Birth of the nation unironically it does say about them a lot of things. If someone enjoys a dark romance book between KKK member and a black woman where the black woman is not questioning the KKK members politics and is secretly enjoying being kidnapped by him (yes a book like this exists) it says something about that person.

There are conservative movies. Created and written by conservatives specifically that align with conservative values. If someone watches and thinks they are a pinnacle of art that does say something about the audience.

If fiction didn't have effect on reality there wouldn't be so many book bans and books about queer and POC experiences wouldn't be removed from libraries and schools.

I understand that a lot of this usually is aimed against women who enjoy things for their own escapism, but like we gotta have this conversation. And just saying "don't like don't read" really doesn't help.

"we gotta have this conversation"?

So I, a stranger, owe you a specific conversation I may have already had with people I know for decades?

I don't, buddy, and that's the root of most of the problems with this kind of discourse.

A lot of people like shitty or dark or immoral art for reasons other than finding it the pinnacle of art. The more the art in question is about lust or fear or disgust, the more likely it is that they like it for some lizard brain reason and know perfectly well that it's Bad™.

Yes, sometimes, media tastes do correlate to other things, just not in a simplistic way, and not in a way where I owe you a detailed account of my entire media diet and inner life.

Pro-censorship people believe that media will turn their kids gay or into devil worshippers or whatthefuckever. It does not matter whether they are correct. Their behavior is based on the assumption, not evidence. If you give them evidence, they will continue to operate on the assumption.

Book bans happen because someone feels uncomfortable and mistakes discomfort for morality. This is a separate question from the relationship between fiction and reality.

Me saying "Don't like, don't read" doesn't help you know my politics or sort out how you feel about anything, but it helps me not waste my day on sealions.

I consider that a win.

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kakiastro · 1 year ago

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12h + the type of dreams you have

Can’t talk about dreams without Morpheus💜

Hey yall! I wanted to talk about how the 12h and the type of dream themes you will have based on the sign it’s in. The 12h rules our subconscious dream state while we are sleeping. The sign it’s in can be repeated themes and patterns you see in them. The 12h is ruled by Pisces which is ruled Neptune and traditionally Jupiter. Some people believe your dreams represent what’s going on in your conscious world, some believe they’re messages from a divine figure and others believe it’s your soul traveling to different timelines. Whatever your personal beliefs are, the 12h can give us clues on the type of themes we can expect.

To get a better analysis on your own 12h; look at your 12h sign + 12h sign ruler and house + degree + aspects to your 12h sign ruler. If you write out your dreams in a journal, see if there’s a connection to your 12h

Today, I’m just going to breakdown 12h signs just to give you an idea, write down and observe the things you remember .

ELEMENT THEMES:

12h Air dreams-fast paced. intellectual, may involve you coming to a decision on something that’s been bothering you mentally. Dreams may involve the sky, tornadoes, animals that fly, you could be flying.

12h Earth dreams- slow paced. grounded and stability. May involve you feeling out of wack and to find some sort of grounding in your life. Dreams can involve forest, trees, the ground, earthquakes.

12h Fire dreams- intense and fast paced. passion and creativity. May involve you lacking the passion for something in your life. If you’re creatively blocked, it will show up in your dreams. Fire, arguing and fighting, romance can be some of the themes

12h Water dreams- fast or slow paced. emotional. It may involve some sort of emotional disturbance that’s bothering you. Water also represents memory and reflection so you can dream about things that’s mirroring you. Dreams about water, your mom, your home, tsunamis, ocean, lakes can be involved

ARIES

-dreams may be very action oriented, there’s a a lot going on in them. You may have a lot of dreams that include arguing or fighting involved. The dreams could be fast paced as well so you may have trouble remembering them due to how quick they are. Dreams may be fiery or heated. You may have had dreams where you were dressed as a warrior or fighter. Dreams can also involve knifes, blood, leaders in your community (which can include you if you’re one) you may wake up with a headache.

TAURUS

-slow paced dreams that involves houses (external), maybe you’re always traveling to different houses. Houses being built or collapsing. Food may also be a big thing in your dreams, either you or someone else is doing the cooking. You may have ability to taste food in your dreams. You can be at different types of restaurants in your dreams.Money is another thing that may appear in your dreams, such as dreams of being at a bank or you working at a bank. It can literally be you surrounded by money. Jewelry can be another thing you see, dreams of fashion shows.

GEMINI

- very fast dreams that’s very airy. May have dreams that change from one thing to another in an instant. It’s like a tv show, switch from one episode to another. May have dreams that involve your siblings, your school with former classmates, aunts and uncles. Dreams of you traveling in a car or bus to different places in your neighborhood. Lots of communication and talking going on in your dreams. You may remember the conversations than the actual dream itself. Dreams can also take place in a library

-I have this placement and a lot of my dreams takes place at my old high school. I also have had dreams of my late uncle who’s passed visit me and we have conversations. A few cousins have come to visit me as well. Yes, I usually have several dreams in one night and they’re all connected to each other. The most I’ve had that I can remember was 7 in one night. Crazy!🤪

CANCER

-I feel like this can be either slow or faced paced lol. May have dreams of close family members especially your mom. Dreams may take place in your home or childhood home. May have had dreams that involves family reunions or get together. Dreams can include babies or nursery rhymes. Young children (age 0-4) , the moon, elephants or wolves can pop up. Being around water such as ponds, waterfalls and rivers. People may be really emotional such as crying or being angry in your dreams. Dreams of women in your life or just women in general.

- I have an intercepted chart so cancer is also in my 12h. I have dreams of my family all the time! Elephants have appeared in my dreams as well. My dreams has also taken place in my childhood neighborhood or home. I’ve also had dreams of childhood friends due to the Gemini influence in this house as well.

LEO

-fast but intense. Dreams may involve a lot of your childhood memories and all the things you liked as a kid. You can relive your childhood through your dreams. May have had dreams where you or someone is getting lots of attention. Dreams of meeting famous people and having conversations with them. You having your picture taken, lions or big cats may appear in your dreams. You being at the playground or around a playground. Children may pop up, if you don’t already have children, you may have had of dream of what they’ll look life before they are conceived.

VIRGO

-slow moving. Pay attention to the smaller details in your dreams because they’re more important than the larger scheme of things. Dreams may include spacious type of areas, libraries, at your job. Your Co-workers may pop up, your manager or supervisor as well. Dreams where you’re at the doctors office or talking to one. Conversations will be important in this sign as well because it’s also a mercurial sign. Conversations may be more detailed like

for example: you may talk a lot about sweets but chocolate cake may get brought up in your dream. The chocolate cake is the important part because that’s probably what you’re craving or what you need to slow down on.

The “devil is in the details” as the old saying goes

LIBRA

-dreams may include the people that you are closest too outside of your family members. If you’re a business owner, your dreams may take place there. If you’re in a serious relationship or married, you may dream of your partner a lot. Even if you’re single, you may have lots of dreams of your future partner before actually meeting them in person. Lawyers can appear as well.

SCORPIO

- you may have lots of nightmares or see lots of nightmarish things in your dreams. Sex dreams is really common with placement. You may have lots of “spiritual sex” with people you are attracted too 😝. Your dreams may take place in dark themed places such as night clubs, night time, in abandoned places, alleyways and dark corners. Dreams will be intense and will feel overwhelming when you wake up. You can also dream of death and birth as well. The phoenix may appear in your dreams.

SAGITTARIUS

-dreams can take place on a plane or in a different country/area from where you’re from. You can have dreams where you’re sitting in an airplane flying somewhere. Traveling could be a big theme in your dreams. If you go to church, your church may appear in your dreams, people from your church may appear. Even if you don’t go to church, it may pop up in your dreams or you being in one. Horses may show up in your dreams a lot, you may have had dreams of centaurs before. Running can also play a huge part, whether it’s you or the people in your dreams.

CAPRICORN

-dreams may take place at your job setting. Your boss may show up in your dreams. You may dream a lot of your grandparents especially your grandma. Dreams may take place in cooperate type of buildings. Dreams may take place in an area where there’s lots of big corporations such as New York. Dreams can also take place home but the home feels cold or you’re alone in it. Mountains can also show up, whether it’s you on top of one or just the image of them. Capricorn has water energy due to the symbol being a Sea Goat so you may have dreams of water. Goats, Crocodiles, Bats may appear. Bones such as your teeth falling out can be a theme.

AQUARIUS

- dreams that involve lots of people moving in your dreams. Dreams may not make a lick of sense with this placement😅 speeding, such as your driving fast or the dream is going a mile a minute. Out of all of the signs, I think Aquarius may be the toughest to remember and pin down due to the fact that aqua rules over abstract 🥴. Your social circle and your acquaintance may pop up. You may have random ass people pop up in your dreams like uhhh “who you?” LOL. Funny enough, those random people may actually appear In your life or if you believe in reincarnation, they could be past life people. Your dreams may be futuristic, you can dream of big events before it actually happen. Water, you carrying it or someone else can be a them.

PISCES

-Pisces is right at home here so you may have remember your dreams with ease. You may have the ability to astra project easily as well. The ocean (internal) may be huge theme. You probably have seen the depth of the ocean in your dreams. Fish or sea life in general may appear in your dreams a lot such as whales, Starfish and Sea horses. Music may show up in your dreams, like you may hear full lyrics to a song. You may dream of musicians. You may have dreams where the setting is taking place in a hospital or some type of asylum.

What type of dreams do you have?

I’m also open for readings, information in my pinned post

#astrology #astrology community #knowledge #love astrology #astro observations #advanced astrology #birth chart #tropical astrology #12h #Pisces #neptune

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dulcewrites · 1 year ago

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ewan in the saltburn trailer is j sooo giving private school filthy rich aemond i love it

AND YES HE NEEDS HIS POC GF

I have been feeling…. less than inspired lately about hotd tbh but hopefully this will spark something. I know no one asked for this lol. This was inspired by Beyoncé’s Upgrade U. Honestly, I don't think Aemond would be much of a loser in a modern setting. He would be far too elusive and people would find him interesting simply based on that. But I am combining/changing some lore here so he is a #loser in this like I am assuming Ewan's character is Saltburn is.

Upgrade You

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x rich!reader (wc: 2k)

Summary: You have always enjoyed having a project to build or fix up and Aemond Targaryen is no different

You flick a spoolie brush over your brows as you finished up your makeup. The lights from your vanity mirror illuminating you as you put the last touches on your face.

"I don't get it," Melanie sighed as she hugged one of your pillows to her chest. She sat crossed legged on your California king bed. "You're like the smartest person I know. Why do you need to be tutored?"

"Everyone can improve themselves, no matter what someone's specialty may be. Remember that."

Melanie nodded enthusiastically. Sweet girl, you think. A little daft at times but nothing some time under your guidance cannot fix.

She tilts her head curiously. "You are pretty dressed up for a library meeting too."

"Another lesson," you fluff your curls then turn from the mirror to her. "Do not let anyone tell you that you are overdressed. Does the library have a dress code?"

Melanie shakes her head slowly.

"So, who is going to tell me to change?"

"... No one?"

"Exactly."

Melanie chews on her lip in thought as if she is taking mental notes in her head. Though she is not wrong you are quite dressed up just to be studying. But your advice was also not wrong; any moment to be noticed should be taken and made the most of. If are to come into contact with any of your peers, why not make the best impression possible. You also do not have in it in you to tell your new pupil about the real reason as to why you were making this little trip. Best move through life with your cards close to your chest as your mother tells you. You can only imagine how wide Melanie's hazel eyes would get if you told her what you had up your sleeve.

Much like how you help the girls around you cultivate their futures, you must look out for your own as well. Your phone dings, and you smile when you check the notification.

Aemond Targaryen.

Archaic, some would say. Sending the feminist movement back 50 years, many could argue. Being realistic is more how you would put it. You have money, sure. Your parents have afforded you all the opportunities they wanted you to have, and for that you are grateful. But you are not naive; this is still very much a man's world. No matter how much money you have, there will be people who will look at you and hate you for having the gall to want more. For having ideas and wanting to express them. For looking the way, you do - for using the way you look against them.

You may not be able to have a seat at the table... but you can have someone build another for you.

Your family may have resources and money. But they do not have 'my father can use company family buy his way into politics; my mom has ancestry that traces back to French royalty' reach.

Luckily for you, there is someone who does have that access.

A little rough around the edges, but nothing some TLC cannot fix. It was one of your best traits: finding the diamonds in the rough and polishing them off so they shine brighter than before.

You go over to your closet and open the double doors. As your eyes search over the different handbags, you call out back to Melanie.

"Watercolor Dior saddle or creme Bottega Jodie?"

"Dior," she calls back.

You check yourself in the mirror before existing the closet.

"Well," you twirl for Melanie. You run hand over your midi turtleneck dress. You knee length boots clanked around as you moved in a circle.

"Perfect," she beams.

She sees you out to your car. With the window rolled down, she waves you off like a mother seeing their child off for kindergarten.

"Happy studying!"

Sweet and simple, just how you like em.

———

You always thought the best thing about Oxford was how it looked in the fall. The leaves begun to change, sprite green to a blend of red, orange, purple, and brown. Made the most picturesque background. But it seemed like how gently the leaves fell from the trees was the only thing that was coming easily.

Maybe it was naivety on your part, but you thought when you showed up in four-inch patent leather Aquazzura heels and literally no books, Aemond would have got the hint. And yet, here you were talking about the components of stockholder’s equity, as if you cared.

"So," you interrupt him mid rant. "Any fun plans for Winter break? I know it is a while away, but everyone is already taking about what they are doing."

He wrinkles his nose, his glasses being pushes up in the process. "Probably just dinner with the family."

Right. The compound. At least that is what the Targaryen main home looks like. You of course needed to your research.

"Well, there is this crazy Christmas that happens before everyone leaves," you shuffle closer to him, and you hope he gets a whiff of your perfume. "Maybe we can go together?"

Aemond snorts and looks down bit sheepishly. "Highly doubt, I am invited."

You fight the urge to sigh wistfully. Cute, smart, wealthy as fuck... and apparently awfully insecure. Everyone throwing the party should be falling at their knees to have him around. But you have since understood during your time at Oxford that many students here do not understand the opportunities in front of them.

If Aemond had any real confidence, he'd say fuck it because he could buy everyone going if he wanted to. They ignore him because he allows them to. And then you realize he is one of those people; the delusional 'I want to get by on my merit not my name' kind of people.

Oh sweet, silly boy.

"That doesn't matter," you wave him off. "Besides, if anyone says anything, you can just say you're with me. Consider it a thank you for doing this for me."

You let your hand slip on his thigh and squeeze slightly.

"Better yet, let's call it a date."

Rhaenyra would think for the amount of money her family has; they would be able to afford stronger liquor. But she has a feeling that it has nothing to do with money, and more about the 'champagne only' rule Alicent liked.

The expansive backyard was decorated impeccably, as it always is for the annual holiday party that they throw. Twinkly lights in the trees, red and green everywhere, and even a frankly nouveau riche ice sculpture. The affair was black tie, and Rhaenyra could feel the eyes of some guess when she showed up in a red fitted suit. Taking small sips from her glass, she looks around the area. She swears the more years go on, the less she recognizes who is invited to things like this.

"Don't tell me step-mommy has put you in timeout."

She rolls her eyes when she hears a familiar voice. Daemon comes to stand next to her, with a small glass in his hand.

"No, you fucker," Rhaenyra then frowns. "Where did you get the scotch?"

"Why do you think I am in timeout?"

Her uncle always found a way around the rules. Rhaenyra blows air out of her cheeks in annoyance. She looks down at her watch; another rule is that they were required to stay at 2 hours. Only 45 minutes has passed since she arrived.

"Heard you are going to the company retreat this year," Daemon downs the rest of the drink and winces at the burning.

"Someone has to represent the family with dad," she shrugs, a small amount of smugness seeping into her tone. "He asked me to go."

"Hmmm," Daemon smirks at her smugness. "You and Aemond."

Rhaenyra blinks confused. "What?"

"Yup," he leans against the wall. "I suppose Viserys found a new muse."

Rhaenyra snorts at his words but then licks her lips nervously. It sounds cruel to think, but it was never something she ever really worried about - her father preferring her siblings over her. At least not something she worried about in her adulthood. Sure, as a girl, newly off the passing of her mother, seeing her father marry a woman only six years her senior rattled her. Aegon being born shortly after only made things more tense. But, and to his own detriment really, Viserys had made sure she came first.

"I did not know Aemond had an interest in the company in the first place."

"He didn't," Daemon's mouth pinches a little. "Not until... recently."

Rhaenyra follows her uncle's gaze out to where Aemond was standing. He always managed to look more grow up than his sibling, more than Helaena and Aegon. A mimicry that Rhaenyra thinks he picked up from his mother, but something seemed different now.

New haircut, no glasses, new suit. Armani? No, Tom Ford. With a Cartier tie clip and sparking cuff links to match. He is surrounded by some of the lawyers that work at the company.

"Looks like university has done him well," Rhaenyra tries to sound as even keeled as possible. "Good for him."

"No," Daemon sounds bored with her strained pleasantries. "That is what pussy does someone who has never got any before."

Rhaenyra blanches. The last thing she wants to think about is her younger brother having sex. She sets her champagne down in disgust.

"Don't be gross."

Daemon huffs before directing his attention towards the other side of the courtyard. His eyes zero in on Alicent, who tosses her auburn hair over her shoulder as she laughs with a young woman. A pretty young woman.

"Only met this semester and managed to get a holiday party invite, and a seat next to mother dearest. She must some charmer."

"You know," Rhaenyra starts. "Not every woman that is around this family is some sort of ruthless social climber."

"Of course, not every woman. Only the smart ones."

She sighs. That was not just pointed at the girl, but at Alicent too. Even though Alicent grew up with an even cushier life than they did. A type of old money that even the Targaryens had to give credence to. Strangely enough, Daemon seemed to take Viserys remarrying worse than Rhaenyra did. Even Rhaenyra over the years has grown to accept the fate that is their blended family. Accepted it enough to be cordial, albeit sometimes still awkward, with Alicent. They have forever been bonded in having to deal with the moods that come with Viserys Targaryen. But Daemon... it seems like he has never forgiven his brother for the act of moving on. He seemed to only grow more jaded since the divorce from Laena.

"How do you even know this?"

"Aemond told Aegon who told Helaena who told Rhaena who told Baela who told me."

Rhaenyra breaks her gaze from the two women. "Keeping tabs on your nephew that you barely speak to?"

Daemon gave her an empty smile. Almost a little cruel like he would crush her like a bug if it would not so pitiful. "You naive little thing. When you figure things out, let me know."

Rhaenyra wants to ask him what he means by that, but Daemon pushes himself off the wall he was leaning against to leave Rhaenyra alone.

Alone was a feeling she was used to. Rhaenyra often found solace in the loneliness that she found herself stuck in. If she did not find comfort in it, it would swallow her whole. Jaw unhinged and bloodthirsty.

Her eyes went back to the where Alicent and the girl were sitting, but Helaena seemed to replace the girl's place to speak with her mother. Instead of getting chummy with Alicent, the mystery woman had gone over to Aemond. Rhaenyra felt a little queasy watching them. Like watching two little dolls or those silly little cake toppers people get. Picture perfect like the stock photos that came in picture frames.

She shook her head at herself with an internal laugh. Here she was picking apart her baby brother's seemingly first real relationship; she was no better than Daemon if she did that. It was she told herself when she watched one of the wives of the company's lawyers come up to the girl and give her kiss on the cheek. Like they were old family friends.

Rhaenyra suddenly finds herself straightening out her jacket and her heels moving across the outdoor area. Might as well introduce herself... as a kind sister figure, of course.

She has a funny feeling she will be seeing this girl around more often.

#a reader fic? yeah I know lol #this is short but I got this idea #aemond getting the pretty woman treatment lmaoooo #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen #aemond x you #aemond x fem!reader #hotd fic #hotd angst #black!reader

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666writingcafe · 6 days ago

Text

Wrath

A Text Conversation Between Satan and MC

Satan: You don't have to worry about my transition affecting you. As it turns out, the bulk of it occurred before you were even introduced to us.

Satan: Part of why this is even happening is because the others were once angels, so it's taking their bodies longer to adjust to their new form.

Satan: Meanwhile, this is all I've ever been, so it's a bit easier for me to accept who I am.

MC: I appreciate you telling me this. I sure could use the break from experiencing everyone's sin.

Satan: I bet. You must be exhausted.

MC: *nodding crow sticker*

MC: Can I ask you a personal question?

Satan: As long as you're prepared for the fact that I may not answer.

MC: Fair enough.

MC: What was your biggest fear?

Satan: During that time?

MC: *nodding crow sticker*

Satan: Being reduced to a mere shadow of Lucifer. I started as a feeling inside him. The more he felt it, the stronger I became. The war and consequent fall caused me to separate from him.

Satan: For the longest time, my mind was a wasteland. I had to separate my identity from Lucifer's, which was quite frustrating, to say the least. I know there will always be similarities between us, but it's taken me a while to find any substantial differences. I've had to force some to form in order to gain some semblance of self.

MC: How did you overcome it?

Satan: By listening to you.

Satan: When you summoned that ball of light, it was the first time I've truly been calm. The longer I held the light in my hands, the more I could discern its whispering. It was your voice comforting me. It was soothing.

Satan: But it also felt familiar.

Satan: Which brings me to my next point.

Satan: I know who you really are, MC.

MC: *eek sticker*

Satan: It's okay. I'm not upset. I understand why you had to keep your true identity a secret. I wouldn't have even found out if it wasn't for Lord Diavolo and Barbatos.

MC: WHAT????

Satan: Don't worry; they didn't tell me outright. I just happened to be in the castle library when they walked in and began talking about you. If they knew I was in the room with them, I doubt they would have said anything about it until I left, but I was tucked in a corner behind a couple bookshelves, so they couldn't have seen me without purposely looking for me.

MC: *face-palming crow sticker*

MC: You REALLY weren't supposed to find out, but it's not like I can do anything to change it.

MC: So, tell me what you overheard them say about me.

Satan: I know you come from a future timeline. The prince apparently had told Barbatos to try to find your version of the butler and get some answers from him about why all this has been happening to you. They've really been worried about you and want to do everything in their power to help you.

MC: I imagine my Barbatos was selective about what he shared.

Satan: *nodding crow sticker*

Satan: He mentioned that back home, you're a human that managed to form pacts with all seven of us and that a large part of your power became tied to your emotions as a result.

Satan: He also seems to believe you were sent here to experience each of our transformations firsthand so that you can help someone go through their own.

Satan: Obviously, he didn't reveal who that person was, but both my Diavolo and Barbatos felt like that would have been unnecessary information, for they've observed someone begin acting differently during your stay here.

MC: Oh?

Satan: Apparently, he trapped you in a closet at some point?

MC: Shit.

Satan: So it IS him, then?

MC: Yes.

Satan: The only memories I have of him prior to him visiting us for the founding ceremony are hazy and through Lucifer's eyes, but I've always gotten the sense he's not been particularly happy about where he's at.

Satan: I just didn't think he'd have the guts to do anything to wildly change his circumstances. He seems too devoted to the little one to just pack his things and leave it all behind.

MC: I don't think he did when we first met.

Satan: Are you able to tell me what changed, or would that be revealing too much information?

MC: I can give you the simple answer and let you fill in the blanks.

Satan: *thumbs up emoji*

MC: He developed strong feelings for me.

Satan: But you're a human.

MC: Yes.

Satan: And he's an angel.

MC: At the time, yes.

Satan: Wait a damn minute.

Satan: Did he seriously FALL for you?!

MC: Not quite. He was still an angel when I left, but he'd made some choices beforehand that pretty much sealed his fate. I just don't know what exactly he'll be when I return.

Satan: Well, judging by the way they're saying he's currently acting here, I'd say he's gearing up to be YOURS.

Satan: And I'm not trying to be sappy. I'm being completely serious.

MC: I don't doubt it.

Satan: When he believed everyone was out of the room when you and Asmo were passed out, he was right by your side, watching over you.

Satan: According to Barbatos, he even held your hand and kissed you on the forehead before he eventually got up and left.

Satan: Angels don't typically act that way towards demons. Even with Diavolo's efforts to make peace with the Celestial Realm, they tend to act rather hostile whenever they're around us for more than a few seconds.

MC: I know.

Satan: I'll let you get some rest. You'll need it

Satan: And don't worry; your secret is safe with me.

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr, @tenkobitch, @budbuddnbuddy

#obey me shall we date #obey me mc #obey me nightbringer #obey me satan #obey me barbatos #obey me diavolo #obey me simeon

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smolvenger · 2 years ago

Text

The King of Asgard (Loki x fem! Reader Oneshot)

Synopsis: As the wife of Prince Loki of Asgard, you suddenly discover that Odin and Thor are gone. You are made queen and your dear husband is king. But a king needs an heir...

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: SMUT Y'ALL!!! 18+ Breeding Kink and Vanilla P in V sex and dirty talk. Some angst in the beginning but lots of hurt/comfort regarding his discovery about being a Frost Giant. Some married fluff. I use the canon events in Thor 1 but stretch out the timeline because it's my fic and I can do what I want. References to fairy tales because I'm a slut for literary references.

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

A/N: Since seeing Thor 1 in its completion this has been in my head. I don't usually write for the big man Loki himself too often- but it's a treat to do so! Maybe I will do more of this stuff if I get more ideas! REBLOGS, COMMENTS, DMS, AND ASKS ABOUT MY WORK ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED! Also, I don't know if Frigga is also Freya the goddess of love and sex in this universe when I wrote this but her character is clearly more FRIGGA than Freya...so yeah...mea culpa

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @infinitystoner @littlespaceyelf @superficialdomina (since all the way back you asked to be tagged! Ta da! Here it is!!)

You had many regrets in your life. But marrying Prince Loki was not one of them. When he asked you, you threw your arms around him and kissed him repeating one word- “Yes!”

You never regretted the day you wore a jeweled veil and walked down that aisle. You never regretted vowing before all the gods that you were his and he was yours. You never regretted becoming Princess of Asgard. Not if it meant the love of your life could become your husband.

Some whispered that your choice was unusual. That it was the wrong prince. That you should have married Thor. After all, it seemed obvious he was going to be the heir. But things did not happen in your heart the way they did. Thor was jovial and friendly to you. But before your betrothal, he liked you as a sister. No more, no less. Even if Odin commanded it, Thor would object to the match. If Thor learned to reign in his arrogance someday, you thought, he would make a fine lover to some lucky person!

Other than being the most beautiful man you had ever beheld, Loki was intelligent. Full of elegance as well as guile. Well-read, polite, patient, and charming, but could hold his own in any battle. It seemed you were one of the few people who recognized that. That was one of many reasons why he loved you.

You both attended feasts side by side. He would flirt with you even though you were still about a year into marriage.

“Why, it is too bad that such loveliness is sitting by herself tonight! May I have the seat next to her?” Loki would croon as he sat in the chair next to you.

You danced every dance together at balls. You especially loved spending free hours exploring the Asgardian library together. Reading works from all Nine Realms. Sometimes until you both fell asleep by the fireplace. Not to mention his finesse in the bedroom.

Loki confessed of his wedding day nerves to you in private. He feared…displeasing you on your wedding night. But your mutual passion and reverence for each other won over all else. Every time you coupled, you brought each other to Valhalla and back again. You learned about each other’s bodies like studying maps. Each minute of lovemaking was both exploration and worship of each other.

Lately, the two of you were careful. You had your own special tea to drink before or after it happened. At most, he would spill his seed somewhere that wasn’t between your legs. You knew so much was happening. Becoming a parent would put more stress on both of you. Especially considering Odin was about to name his heir.

Though you both did hope someday to have a child. You knew Loki would be a wonderful father and you wanted to be a mother. You wanted a family. You wanted to have a sweet baby (or two) of your own to cuddle and kiss. To hear it laugh when you tickled it. To welcome their first steps with open arms. To watch it grow. To leave your own mark- a person who was both Loki and you.

Now wasn’t the right time, both of you knew it. When you would sigh about it, he would hug you.

“We will wait, my love…time is our friend…” he’d assure you.

There were worse things in life. And you might as well enjoy what you had now before it was too late. You were lucky to have him. Many couples lived happy, long lives together without children. You were fortunate to have a man who you could confide anything to. And he in turn confided all his worries to you.

The ceremony arrived. And it was not Loki who was named heir as he hoped. It was Thor.

As you stood next to Loki, you felt him stiffen. Thor smiled and held up Mjonir as the kingdom cheered for him. Looking at your husband, you took his hand. You heard him take in a deep sigh through his nose.

“I know you wanted it…I’m so sorry…” you whispered to him, rubbing a thumb over his palm.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

One evening when you walked about the garden. The sun was setting and while there was some light, you wanted to admire the roses Frigga grew. Dressed in your golden dress, you knelt to sniff a few red ones. Admiring her work and the peace of the place. You jumped when a guard ran over to you.

“The Prince Loki requests your presence immediately in the castle vaults,” he reported.

Picking up your skirts, you hurried there.

“Loki, where are you? Are you hurt?” you asked as you entered.

He was standing on the steps before the Tesseract’s section. He looked up at the sound of your voice. There were tears in his eyes.

“I…I just spoke with father…” he said.

“What did he say this time?” you asked.

He took a step towards you. More tears fell down his cheeks.

“Y/N…I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have married you, shouldn’t have made you my prisoner…” he said.

Pain curled up in your chest at the words. Their grip tightened your throat and your eyes watered as well as his.

“Prisoner!?! What are you talking about, Loki? You cannot believe every word Odin says! I will talk to him myself right away! How dare he say such cruel things to you! You do deserve me! You do!” you cried.

You reached over to grab his hands and he jerked them back.

“No Asgardian maiden deserves to be sold and made wife to a Frost Giant!” He blurted.

You paused.

“Frost Giant?” you repeated.

All your life you heard whispers of the land of the Frost Giants, or Jotenheim. And they were always violent tales of terror. The large, ice creatures were longtime enemies of your kingdom. It was typical for Thor to boast about how much he would slay if given the chance.

“Stay here…and watch…” Loki instructed.

He put his hand on the Tesseract. Upon contact, his skin turned blue and his eyes red. A frost giant if you ever saw one.

Your eyes widened and you gasped in response, a hand flew over your mouth. Shock made your body lock in place. But you did not turn your eyes from him.

“Oh, Loki!” you cried.

You did not flee. No, you would not. Instead, you ran up and embraced him. He felt cold to the touch. As his hands released the Tesseract you felt him warm up in your arms as his skin turned back to ivory. They curled around your back, and he buried himself in your touch. You felt him shaking. Despite your own surprise, you would not abandon him. Never.

“It’s alright…it’s alright, I’m right here…this is a lot, I know…” you consoled as he cried.

He explained to you that years ago, Odin found an abandoned Frost Giant baby in Jotenheim. He took in the infant to be raised as one of his own. But never telling that young prince the truth about his parentage. Not until an accidental discovery. In a recent battle a Frost Gant touched your husband’s arm, changing your prince’s skin to blue beneath his grip. And blue skin could not lie.

“Do you know what I am, Y/N? I am a monster! That’s who you are married to! A monster!” Loki mourned.

You glanced at the door, then back to him. An idea from a recent library read growing in your head.

“Are you familiar with Midgard Fairy Tales? The ones for children?” you asked.

“No,” he answered.

“You don’t?” you asked.

“Midgard never interested me before…”

Taking him by the hand, you led him back to the library. You found a collection of Midgard Fairy Tales left on your favorite chair. You brought it to him and opened it up, flipping the pages. You then pointed to one story. The first page was illustrated with a ship on the ocean, then a rose, and a grand castle.

“You should read this one right here. It was written years ago by a lady. It is a Midgard Fairy Story called La Belle et La Bete or Beauty and The Beast…” you explained.

Loki took the book. He then flipped the page to see a picture of the eponymous beast.

“I know enough of fairy tales. They’re all the same. There’s some giant or creature who’s always the villain. Kidnapping unwilling maidens and hoarding gold. That is until a prince skewers them. Then there’s great celebration over the killing,” he dismissed.

You placed a hand on the page before he could close it.

“You’re right about one thing. There is a beast in this one…” you continued.

“Oh, and he’s there to do those things so babes will grow up learning to hate me,” Loki complained.

“No! Not in this one he’s not!” you objected.

You turned the page. It showed the Beast smiling with a lady in a rose garden.

“Yes, he is a beast. But do you know what he also is? He is the prince in the story! He might look frightening to some, but beneath it, he is kind and generous! He falls in love and marries a woman who sees that in the end! She doesn’t focus on what makes him monstrous and different- she accepts who he is!”

You set the book down and cupped his face.

“Because she loves him!”

His jaw dropped, speaking nothing. He leaned into your hand.

“A Frost Giant? Yes. I will learn to adjust to the blue skin…but you are my husband. I could not ask for a better one. And I love you. No matter what…” you said.

He embraced you again and you both cried. Tears of happiness and of sorrow. Blue skin or white. Yellow eyes or blue ones. He was Loki. He was your husband, and you would always stay with him. Besides, it’s what he would have done for you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When you went to bed that night, you expected tomorrow to be a day like any other. But instead, you were shaken out of sleep.

“Loki, what is it? It’s too early…” you murmured, half-awake.

You felt your bedside but did not feel the lump of his body.

Wakefulness creeping on you, you saw the guards and a few servants in your bedchambers. You jumped to sit up. You held onto the blankets, your knuckles popping in your grip.

“Where is my husband? Is he alright? What’s going on?” you questioned.

Their eyes were all wide. One servant stepped forward and spoke with gravity.

“The prince Thor is banished. And Odin has fallen into his Odinsleep. Loki is now King of Asgard. And you are it’s Queen.”

It was only four sentences. But it felt like something from a dream. You jolted out of bed to stand. You barely opened your mouth to respond when the servant knelt before you. He took your hand and kissed it in reverence.

“Your highness! Queen of Asgard!” he announced.

All bowed before you in your room.

You expected many things when you married the god of mischief. Just not this! It felt like one of those Midgard Fairytales happening to you.

When you dressed and hurried to your husband in the throne room. You forgot your new role and froze your steps. He sat on a throne, legs deliciously apart. He took up space now. The throne was entirely his and he was going to use every inch of it. He was decked in the robe of a ruler, not a prince destined to wait in the wings all his life. He had power in him, and you had to confess the aura of it was…. doing something for you. Your legs were buckling beneath your dress. There was that infamous, mischievous smile on him. It made you shiver. Already morning and desire swirled inside you. When his head turned to see you, he lit up. He got up from his throne and walked down. Per habit, you curtsied low. Then, placing a finger beneath your chin, he led you to standing. Your sex beneath your legs clenched at the gesture.

He then grabbed you and lifted you up in a hug where your feet didn’t touch the ground.

“Y/N…darling!” he greeted.

He put you down and placed a kiss on your lips.

“But…are you ready to rule? It won’t be easy…” you worried.

“It will not. But at last, think of everything I could do…lead armies…unite kingdoms…”

Even Jotenheim and Asgard if he decreed it so, you noted. You then smiled at him. He was glowing from pride and joy. He took your hand and kissed it.

“If we’re together through this…we can handle it…” he said.

They placed you to stand by his side on the throne.

Frigga entered. She bowed to you. Your own knees bucked a little out of habit. Usually you were the one bowing to her! You walked down to her, taking her shoulders.

“Queen mother…I…I’m speechless! …I don’t know how I could ever be a queen as well as you!” you confessed to her.

She kissed your cheek and gave you a patient smile.

“Don’t worry, I will help you. Day by day, step by step, you will learn how.”

“Thank you…what do I do now?”

“You will be crowned this afternoon. The kingdom will be watching. Look at them, your people. And show them you care…” she advised.

The hour arrived for them all. Swarms of people broke in like a flood to the throne room. You felt every eye as a golden crown was placed on your head and as his familiar helmet was placed on Loki.

Remembering Frigga’s advice, you looked down on them. You allowed a smile to grow on you. You smiled as you heard your name being chanted along with your husband's name.

They cheered and bowed to you. Flags were waved and confetti fell like snow across the palace. Loki got took your hand and lifted it up before them. They began to cry out.

“Hail the King Loki! Hail the Queen Y/N!”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When the sun began to set, a familiar servant ran up to you.

“The King sends his regrets that duties require his immediate attention. He asked for the cooks to go ahead and serve you dinner in his absence,” she announced.

“Thank you,” you replied. An attempt at a regal tone of voice new to you.

The servant bowed and left. She didn’t do that as reverently when you were a mere princess. You ate your dinner alone and then took a rosewater bath right after. You noticed several stray petals floating around in the tub.

Once you finished, you returned to your chambers. It seemed they would stay the same for now. The King’s room was for the Odinsleep. Drying yourself you picked a nightgown. Tonight, it was a white one with a silvery tone to it. It had long sleeves that draped down and had beautiful beading around the bodice. The neckline dipped down to the clasp that secured it. Some might consider it immodest, but it was too beautiful for your resistance. It gave you some very sensual cleavage that you loved (and so would your husband). The skirt then dipped down to the floor, making it feel like a robe, but the material was not so thick that it felt too hot.

If you dressed more like a queen, even at night, you would feel more apt to the role.

What a day it had been. Part of your body ached after such excitement. You sat by your vanity on a cushion. Flowers (including the roses you liked) from the gardens in vases bedecked it. By the candlelight you checked your hair. Sighing in, you relaxed on the seat, admiring the glimpse of the kingdom at night from your curtains. Enjoying a moment of peace.

You then heard his voice outside the door.

“I am now going to bed. Do not disturb us unless there is an emergency,” Loki ordered the servants and guards. Already he was speaking more like a king.

The doors creaked as he opened it and walked inside. Though he was in his own green bedrobes, there was a bounce and urgency to his step. Then he approached you as you sat on the cushion before the vanity. Though his blue eyes did wander hungrily to your low neckline. They then returned up to your face in the mirror’s reflection.

“How is my pretty queen tonight?” he asked.

“I’m good…” you answered.

“Are you tired?” he asked with a tone of concern.

He placed a hand on your shoulder, fingers drumming in anticipation. Was there some old prank he was going to pull that he wanted you to see? What was he going to say?

“Only a little…I’m still taking it in…” you replied.

He embraced you from behind, nuzzling into your neck. You smiled at the contact of feeling his nose against your skin. He smiled as he looked at you in the mirror.

“You always were a queen to me, my dear….” He said.

He kissed your cheek and then lowered his lips to your neck. You smiled, enjoying the increasingly amorous gesture. You felt the tickle of his breath. His soft lips made another kiss in between your neck and clavicle. You melted into it.

“My, Freya has gotten someone enchanted…” you teased.

“It’s not Freya who enchants me…” he husked.

He then turned you around and led you to stand. And laid a desperate kiss on your lips. You wrapped your arms around him. He slid in his tongue. A hand of his crept to hold your back to him. You groaned into it. Already, arousal began its long, sinful climb with its wet signal between your legs. You released lips with a satisfying smack.

“If you continue this, I’ll ring for that tea…” you said.

“No…” he voiced.

“Hmm?”

He held your hands down.

“You won’t need that tea tonight. Or for a while…” he said.

You blinked.

“How come?”

He gave you a smile, looking in your eyes.

“I must tell you…the council has given me much advice. To secure myself as king, there are a few things I can do. Enact laws. Silence any rebellions or refusals. And, since I’m already married...”

He paused.

“Sire an heir.”

You felt your breath stop in your throat. Your eyes widened. His smile went down to a smirk. A glint in his eye as he went to you. His eyes roaming down your exposed chest. His hands wandered down, staring to hike a little of your skirt.

“So, you’re saying…” you stuttered.

“Y/N, I…I need you tonight…tonight…I’ll give you a child, an heir, someone to carry on my reign, and keep me as king…Would you like that?” he asked.

He leaned closer. Wanting to kiss you, then pausing. You could feel his breath just on your lips, making you dizzy. He placed his hips against yours. You felt a moan shudder out of you. Your answer was an easy one.

“Yes, yes I would.”

He swept you up in his arms, strong despite his lean frame. Your heart raced so hard you felt it would burst out of you. He laid you on the bed then crawled over you. You felt yourself trembling like it was the first time. He cupped your cheek and leaned over to kiss you.

“My queen, my darling…”

You wrapped your arms around him.

“And my Prince made King,” you said back.

Intuitively, he ground his hips on yours. A small shudder went through you, coming out as a sigh. You reached a hand to run it through his hair as he kissed you again. Combing through those dark curls you loved so much. Because they were a part of him. His crown that never left him. You gave him another, harder kiss. He then looked down at your robe. He slid a hand over the beading, over your chest.

“A lady beautiful as you could doesn’t need such …embellishments…” he growled.

He removed his hand to lift it in the air. He flicked it and a green light began at the tips of your toes and then worked its way up your legs and through your body. Your evening robes for sleeping vanished and instead was your skin. He wetted his lips at the sight of your nakedness.

“I’ve longed to see this, to touch you for hours…”

He went up to your bare breasts. You gulped as he began to kiss it. Your back arched on impulse, tensing already. As he worked his way to the center, you felt yourself tensing already. Smiling at the pleasure as he used his tongue, swirling your nipple. Chills ran over you. He released his mouth to whisper.

“I’ve missed your breasts. The shape. The softness. Feeling you…”

He replaced it with his large hand. He gently squeezed and groped both around. You exhaled out another sound coming out of you. Not a polite one.

“Perfection-perfect for my hands. And perfect to nurse my heir…”

He then lowered himself down, kissing your stomach. Tracing your hips. He then kissed your bellybutton, dipping his tongue into the hole of it. Only a symbol of what was next. A delicious forewarning. Preparation. You grew wetter with the feeling of something soft and wet inside a hole of yours.

“Loki…Loki, my dear…husband…” you whimpered.

He held your hips down, tracing it and feeling them again. How they curved up to where they made your waist. His fingers sprawled possessively over your flesh. Then back down to your hips. Looking down, there was a bulge getting bigger against his green robe.

“And these…perfect. Perfect for what I put between them. For my mouth, my fingers, my cock, and my child…”

He pulled his head up, then you put your finger to his lips. Giggling lightly, as did he.

“You talk so much. But you’ve yet to bare yourself too, my love,” you teased.

With a cocky half-smile, all he did was tilt his head. The seidr ran down from the forehead to the toes, and the smooth robe was replaced with his warm skin. He was so beautiful. Every time he took off his clothes, it was everything in you not to stare. He had a broad, ivory chest so large and enveloping. It was like a blanket when you rested your head on them or when he thrust on top of you. You put a hand to explore the crevices, going through the patch of hairs on him. His muscular shoulders, perfect for digging your nails in. His abdominals-both soft and strong. For he was both at the center of his heart as well. Thighs made thick from running, jumping, and everything a warrior did.

He ground against you. His cock, already hard, teased your stomach. He leaned up to kiss your neck in its small soft spot. A hand returning to your breast.

“You will look wonderful engorged with a babe…a child…a part of you that will always be there, a trace of us together.”

“Loki…my dear husband…I love you…” you voiced.

He smiled, inching close.

“And I love you when you’re screaming beneath me…”

With one long, beautiful hand, he took the outside of your legs. He traced his fingers down from thigh to knee. Ghosting against the upper flesh of your skin. As tenderly as if you were the brightest, most precious jewel kept in his treasury. In seas of coins, rubies, and diamonds…it was you, you out of everything else, that mattered to him.

He took his large, beautiful hands and then moved them to the inside of your knees. You bit back a moan, leaning your head into the pillow as you felt it.

Using both his hands, he then spread you apart, wide open. He looked down at you and grinned. He had seen, felt, penetrated, and tasted your pussy like an addict. Always hungry for more. Even if you were poison, he would consider it the sweetest way to die. He placed himself back up. The tip just teasing your entrance. Every nerve inside you screamed. It brushed against you, never plunging in.

“You’re a banquet all for me, my dear…now…are you ready?” he whispered.

“Oh, please…. stop tormenting me… I want a child…and I want you…give me…give me one, Loki…” you begged.

“Let me…let me feel your sweet warmth and take your king’s shaft…” Loki husked.

He plunged into you slowly. Part of you panted through your nose. You felt him climb inside, inch by agonizing inch. This was a ceremony, sacred as any other rite in a royal bedroom. As if everything had to be right. Yet there was beauty-there was divinity. An ecstasy of reaching something otherworldly in between each other’s legs. You let out a loud gasp when he placed all of you inside him. You grabbed onto him.

He then retracted his hips, and he began to thrust into you. Grinding you right into the bed. Writhing as you accepted his largeness like it was new. Each gasp from his breath, each pant from each thrust. You could feel one muscular arm of your husbands touched the headboard, keeping him steady against you. You felt your back and ass slide against the silk sheets. He was slow, but eager.

“Yes…I promised you… when we married…I’d give you-nrgh-I’d give-give you everything-fuck-everything you’d ever want-gods…yes, gods, yes!” he whimpered as he thrusted.

You let out a moan with each thrust, your own breasts bouncing slowly with the movement. He looked down, releasing the hand on the headboard to slap them.

You let out a gasp- “L-Loki-you-you-you beast!”

“I thought you figured that out already, darling…” he whispered with a chuckle.

You felt his other hand wander to touch your back. You writhed under him. He then slid his hand under his hips guide you up. His strength held you steady. He hit a different angle and you let out a cry-it was deeper, and his cock had found it’s way to your bud. Already sensitive and shaking.

“L-Loki! There! Please! There!” you begged as he kept thrusting.

“As my queen commands…”

You saw the veins in his neck tightening as he kept on. His black curls messed around him- wild and free. A creature claiming his prize for the night. How beautiful he looked. You returned a hand back up and pulled him down. You kissed him with such fervor as he thrust that he stayed for only a second inside you, pausing, catching a breath. What breath there was, anyway.

Then he picked up the pace slightly. You were starting to see stars. That sweet angle where he got your clit. You felt pleasure rise in you. Yes, it was arriving. You moved your hands down from his shoulders, down his triangular back. Once you found his soft, perfect ass you pushed him in again.

“Loki I’m…I’m…I’m close…oh norns- I’m…I’m going to cum!” you pleaded.

“So…am I-nrg-Call me king, call me king again and…and…I’ll-I’ll drive you there with me …”

He lowered his voice. Guttural and demanding.

“Call- me- your- king.”

He even got his free hand inside, speeding you up as he too sped up. You felt it-the breaking point.

“Yes-please-my- my king! My king!” you cried.

He let out a shout and you felt his hot seed spurt inside you. Your own climax then broke upon you. Thw words repeated out of you in a whisper.

“My king…my…my…”

It was the climax where it spun inside you. You felt your whole-body lock. Your quim felt as if it was spinning, sputtering with the pleasure. As well as his seed. You groaned as it washed you down and you felt it. Your eyes teared up. His stayed inside, spurting like mad. Free and plentiful after starvation. A broken dam. He stayed inside. Not wasting one drip of him. You accepted it, every bit of it. Not one drop would go to waste. You felt your body buzz. Vibrating on the inside though you were still. Still except for your own breasts heaving with the breath you caught. You felt him catch his breath on top of you too.

He then cupped your cheek. His curls fell before his face. But his smile and blue eyes glowing from them.

“I couldn’t have asked for better. A better broodmare. A better wife. A better queen by my side…” he said.

Playfully, you went up and kissed the tip of his nose. He grinned at it and then embraced you. Arms flinging around each other. His own sweaty, earthy scent mixed with the rosewater bath you had earlier.

His cock still twitched inside you. Then you felt a final hot release of him and there was no more. He pulled out. Once it left you, you felt a cold space in your quim. Like it was an empty niche, something that needed filling. So much was he a part of you. You reached up your hand to brush his curls back. Seeing his face. Seeing him.

He then went down to your stomach, kissing it.

“I think if it’s a boy…we should call him Tuck…and if it’s a girl...Idona…” you then told him.

He rolled over to lay his head on the pillow. Then he turned over. You hummed at the sight of him- oh Hela, his beautiful profile was art itself!

“And what if we have twins?” he asked.

“I’ll figure it out, later!” you replied with a small laugh.

You placed your head on his chest and looked up and he down.

“I hope you’ve forgiven me for missing dinner…we’ll eat together tomorrow night; I’ll make it up to you…” he said.

“Of course, I forgive you. You had duties of your own…” you whispered.

He then gave a smile with the familiar, delicious darkness in his eyes.

“It might take more than once. We will try for an heir no matter how many times it takes. I’d like to have you on that very table like a meal of my own to devour. And I’ll have you on the library walls. On each rug. On each column. So, rest well…you have several duties of your own tomorrow.”

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flagbridge · 10 months ago

Text

Q&A: The Phantom Broadway Proshot

Happy 36th Birthday to Phantom of the Opera's opening night on Broadway! We should be celebrating at the Majestic. The show never should have closed.

In order to create "new" ish POTO Broadway content, @or-what-you-will and I promised to answer your questions about the proshot on POTO Broadway's birthday. Find our summary of the Proshot here.

We got dozens of questions, which we've consolidated into 14 questions. Read them all past the cut!

Wait, what’s the Phantom Proshot?

The Phantom Proshot is an archival copy of the original Broadway cast and production of Phantom of the Opera, filmed at the evening performance with a live audience on May 25, 1988. The New York Public Library, Theatre on Film and Tape Archive at the Performing Arts Library at Lincoln Center has archival copies of Broadway, Off-Broadway, and Regional theater going back to 1970. You can’t view currently running shows, so since Phantom ran for so long, it was under lock and key.

2. How do I see the Pro-Shot?

Pretty simple how to guide here on the NYPL website.

We are both NYPL cardholders and made a reservation in advance. You are required to state why you are accessing the recording as they exist for archival and research purpose. Both of us are published authors and researchers under our real names.

Here's a picture of the room we were in from NYPL's website. We had an appointment and were set up in a room with lots of monitors. We were seated at monitors next to each other with two sets of headphones and had one set of controls to pause/rewind etc. There are 20 monitors in the room and it was pretty full that day. This was not my first time at the TOFT and it’s always had a good number of people around.

3. Can someone get a boot of it/send me the link to it? Pleeeeease?

No. Seriously, stop asking about this. Stop joking about this. It’s not online, and never will be. All of the recordings are on digital media (videodiscs or DvDs) in the basement and only library staff get to touch them. Don’t be the person who tried to do this and ruins the archive for everyone else. You can’t even bring electronic devices into the room.

4. Why won’t they release it to the public? And who the heck does it benefit to keep this locked away?

It isn’t. It was locked away when the show was actually running. It is available to the public. We are the public! We have library cards and went to a public library and watched it for $0! It’s owned by the library so the public can see it! At the library!

The availability of us to access it now that the show has closed is what constitutes public release. There were several other phans, members of the public there to see it after us, and the library allowed them to max out the number of monitors the library allows people to view on. They had a later appointment and were watching disc one when we were on disc two. I’m sure there was someone after them too. Were we all wearing Phantom gear? Also yes.

(@or-what-you-will here) The library is not allowed to show recordings of anything currently running on Broadway, presumably because of fears about economic loss from those who own the rights to the musicals. The library does not own the rights to the musicals in the archive, and there are likely a lot of stipulations the library has to follow to be able to have recordings like this.

As someone who works in a library doing digitization work, libraries and the media they contain are very complicated. TOFT likely has the rights to show it under a very limited license, and to make copies for preservation purposes only, but things like this mean they would not be able to do anything like put it online or charge for it or do anything that would be them acting as though they owned the copyright (as opposed to the physical media). This is why when a library or archive has a book or tapes they don’t usually have the right to photocopy the entire book or digitize the entire tape and put it online (unless it is in public domain), however, if you go in person you can see it all you want. Someone else (usually the creator) owns the right to distribute or copy, and libraries and archives can get in a lot of trouble for violating it.

The copyright is still owned by the holders of each respective musical’s copyright. It’s essentially like when you buy a DVD and you are technically not supposed to copy that DVD but you can invite your friends over to watch it at your house. Copying it and distributing it violates copyright. Putting it online violates copyright. If the library violated copyright it would likely lose the ability to archive musicals altogether. If you copied the DVD it would be a lot harder to find out who put it up because the DVD is owned by lots of people, though you could still be prosecuted by the law. If the library did, they would know immediately who did it because they are presumably the only ones with a copy of this recording.

Likewise if someone took a bootleg recording of a show and distributed it, the copyright holders wouldn’t know it existed. If they found out that individual would then be eligible to be prosecuted under the law. Because the library is a public institution, if they were found out to be doing this, it would be the library itself that would get in trouble and it would damage their reputation, their funding, and quite possibly the funding and reputation of libraries around the world. A lot of this is done on trust. The copyright holders trust the library as a public institution and the library has a lot more stakes in the game than a single person recording the show and distributing it.

It’s a very tenuous agreement at times, and likely the library is only allowed to even record because there are so many protections in place and they have a history of enforcing these rules. These agreements also usually cover digitization and preservation, but again, violating them could have those abilities taken away as well. It’s all tied up in copyright law and the library has no control over that. I have talked to archivists where I live who have to record performances with tape over the lens because it’s considered for preservation and they want to make sure it cannot be possible to profit off of it in any way.

When the show goes into public domain they will be able to put it online all they want without fear of repercussions, but until then, unless those agreements change, we are all limited by the whim of the copyright holders.

5. Hello! Is the pro shot you watched what this clip is from https://www.instagram.com/reel/Cp2_80CJqI3/?igsh=MWNja2wwYWw4OHUwbw== ?

I know all of us here on Tumblr were freaking out that they maybe had a copy of the pro shot when this came out. Thank you! (@imstillhere-butallislost)

Not the proshot, it's a press reel. It has its own cool story though! Answered this here.

6. How good of a shot was it? I know you said ProShot but is it a ProShot like Hamilton or just a camera recording the whole stage at once?

I’d definitely say it was Hamilton pro-shot quality as to what was available at the time between image quality and mixing up of close ups and wide shots. I’ve watched other proshots and many just park a camera in the back of the orchestra and call it good. Cats in particular had multiple cameras but just did close-ups when they felt like it, not when it made sense or added anything. As @or-what-you-will explained in their re-blog, Phantom was one of the first proshots where they had a soundboard plug in, and let me tell you, with the exception of a few moments in Act 1 where Sarah Brightman maxes out her mic, the sound was delicious. Have we talked about how Judy Kaye is singing over the overture (yes, that’s Judy Kaye, original Carlotta, warming up!)? Or that you can hear every single word of Notes I and Prima Donna and Notes II, which usually just sounds garbled because everyone is singing over one another? Actually hearing words that I sort of know exist changed my experience of the show for me.

7. How did the tempo seem, compared to the pace of the show at the end of its run? I saw the show a few times in the last few years, and the music seemed significantly faster in person than it sounded on the London cast recording. I’ve always wondered if that was just a difference between the London and NY productions, or if the tempo just sped up over the years.

Uh…normal pace??? I’ve watched a lot of boots and most solidly clock in 2:15 of run time. This was no different. There are definitely some that run a little faster. London during Earl Carpenter’s 2023 run was notorious as he had to catch a train. It does seem to have settled back out. I will say, the music does always feel more intense in person because the whole place just vibrates.

8. I'm curious about the comment about the Ratcatcher? I think I remember that character from a film adaptation, but was he ever in the ALW musical? (@lord-valery-mimes)

Yes, Ratcatcher is still in the musical, even now. It’s a blink or you miss it type of moment. If you hear a thud and a scream right before Madame Giry tells Raoul “He lives across the Lake, Monsieur”, the thud is the ratcatcher running across the travelator.

9. Does Christine really recognize the Phantom in PONR from his boner?

No, but at this point she probably already know it’s him and has been trying to get through the scene, but definitely acts surprised because, well, that’s surprising. But it’s definitely the moment where the Vibes Are Officially Off.

10. Can Sarah Brightman act?

Yes! All three of the trio have far more nuanced performances on stage. Sarah doesn’t act the way that we do see many later Christines (including late 80s and early 90s Christines), but she absolutely created the blueprint for the role. Her “Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again” is missing some soul, but at the end of the day she was one of a kind, and she made some very strong acting choices.

11. there anything unexpected? Any interpretation that stood out to you and particularly striking but didn’t stick around as others took on the roles and put their own spin on things?

Guys, I want to talk about Steve Barton as Raoul. The man made choice, after choice, after choice. And yet we have had so many Raoul’s that are kind of just strutting about looking pretty. Some seem to even forget they’re onstage during Final Lair. It can be such a juicy role if the actors choose to make it that way but so few do.

Besides some small details I mentioned, the show did maintain its integrity through its 35 year run, which is truly remarkable.

(@or-what-you-will here) Seconding what Flag said, Steve Barton brought so much more to the role than I’m used to seeing, and it really opened my mind to what Raoul could be.

The blocking in PONR did surprise me, I knew they had changed it but I hadn’t realized how much. I always found the kind of pinwheeling arm thing Christine does with the phantom strange, so it was a pleasant surprise to find that they didn’t do that at all, the embrace from behind made more sense to me.

I also found after she took his hood off no one really ran out, the phantom and Christine got to have their moment. The blocking where they (the managers and Raoul) run out and tell Christine to stay makes no sense with their motivations to stop him. The more recent blocking where Christine motions them to stay in place as the phantom sings the All I Ask of You Reprise makes way more sense with the characters’ motives and matches this original blocking much more.

12. Also are you truly working on a research project? If so, how is progress and where might we find your final results when it’s complete?

To quote Dr. Who, “Spoilers.” Yes, always. Both of us have day jobs that have us doing research, but I can’t promise I’ll put it on here when complete since I keep fandom and real life separate. Sorry to dodge this one but getting into specifics about this starts to identify us.

(@or-what-you-will here) Seconding what Flag said.

13. Hi there, I was wondering if I could ask you a general question about the NPL’s archive. Something about the language on their website made it sound like viewers could only watch a recording “once”. I wasn’t sure if that meant “once per visit” (i.e. you can’t sit there for 8 hours restarting the tape every time it ends) or “once” as in forever (like, once you’ve watched a recording you are never allowed to request it again). Did you have any clarification? I wasn't sure if the librarians explain the policies when you arrive at your appointment. Thank you for providing so many details about the Phantom pro-shot and offering to answer our questions! That's really kind of you!

You’re welcome! So if there’s nobody after you, you can hang out with the media as long as you want. However, we did have another group come in about 90 minutes after us. That gave us enough time to watch both acts with all the rewinds we wanted. We watched PONR and parts of Final Lair like five times. On a previous TOFT trip I watched two shows and was there for like six hours. The prohibition is on coming back and watching the recording again. I have no idea how strict they are about this, although I suspect it’s to keep people from monopolizing certain media. Would I want to try to watch the proshot again in the future? Probably! I know there’s stuff I missed, or I’d see something different depending on what I’m working on. The TOFT is also an absolutely incredible resource and I have so many other shows I’d like to check out.

(Will here) They do log on your library account when you visit that you visited and what you saw. However, if you have accessibility needs that would require you to watch in multiple viewings or something along those lines, I would talk to them about it, because I’m sure they’d be able to work with you to figure out something so you wouldn’t have to sit through the whole thing in one shot.

14. > Barton Raoul’s “There is no Phantom of the Opera” comes off more as “Christine this is just some dude” vs “he doesn’t exist at all.”

Could you elaborate on this part? I'm having trouble imagining how that would be conveyed. (also, thanks for sharing your notes on the procast!) @clutzyangel

You're welcome! Yes, he's telling Christine that the Phantom is a human, flesh-and-blood man, not some fantastical creature. I've seen many Raouls who seem to try to convince Christine that the Phantom doesn't exist at all. Barton's Raoul seems to understand that he's a man with ulterior motives possibly duping Christine.

And he's not wrong.

#phantom of the opera #poto #alw phantom #phantom proshot #happy birthday phantom broadway #phantom broadway #michael crawford #sarah brightman #steve barton #judy kaye #andrew lloyd webber #nypl #research #I wish Phantom were still be on broadway #we should all be wilding out at the majestic

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navybrat817 · 2 years ago

Text

Far, Far Away

Pairing: Librarian!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You take a chance and give Bucky a call. Word Count: Almost 1.7k Warnings: Fluff, flirting, slightly embarrassing moment ( 😂 ), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?) A/N: Follow up to Once Upon a Time. For you @11thstreetvigilante . ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Edit by Nix, divider by the talented @firefly-graphics, and banner by yours truly. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It would be a week before you saw Bucky again.

You told your friends about the handsome hero who stepped in to defend you on the subway. The man with the steel blue eyes. Your friends responded with a resounding “aww” when you showed them the line of the poem on the back of his card, with the exception of your friend Tina. Raising an eyebrow as she sipped her wine, she asked what the catch was.

"There is no catch," you stated.

"There's always a catch," Tina argued.

Ever the pessimist. Or is she a realist?

"He said I could help volunteer at the library when I asked if I could repay him."

"See? There's the catch. Free labor," she said, triumphantly finishing her glass.

"That's what volunteer work is," you joked, running your thumb along his name before Nicole snatched the card from your hand. "Hey!"

"Hold on. Let's look him up," she said, glancing at the card before she typed on her phone. You took it back and carefully tucked it away when her eyes widened seconds later. "Holy. Shit. Is this him?"

The image of Bucky standing by a bookshelf with a book filled the screen as she held her phone up. Your mouth went dry from the quick glance, so you nodded in reply. That was your hero.

"You met this guy on the subway?" she asked, passing her phone around for everyone to see. You were pretty sure Kim whimpered. "How do I not meet guys like this on the subway?!"

Even Tina looked impressed.

For a moment.

"I still think there's a catch," she said.

"There’s no catch. He could've easily told me to contact the library. He didn't have to give me his card or recite the poem. So this means he wants to see me again. Right?"

You hated how your voice wobbled on the last word. Bucky was a stranger and he may have already forgotten about your encounter. You hoped that wasn't the case.

Why did it matter so much to you?

"I think he wants to see you again, but also wants to leave the ball in your court after you had to deal with a creep," Kim said, giving you an encouraging smile. She knew you were a bit lonely, even if you wouldn't admit it. "You should call him and set up a time to volunteer."

“I could email him,” you pointed out.

“Not as personal,” Nicole dismissed with her hand. “Plus you get to hear his voice this way.”

Tina's gaze softened when you toyed with the glass in front of you. You knew that she, like your other friends, wanted you to be happy. "Give it a day then call him. If anything, maybe he'll dick you down the way you need."

“Yes, for the love of everything holy, you haven’t been laid in months. Do it for us,” Nicole added, making you laugh.

You took their advice and waited a day.

Thankfully no one was around to see you pace across the floor when you called. What was it about talking on the phone that made your palms tingle? You had no reason to be nervous. It was just a phone call to one the most gorgeous, chivilarous men you had the pleasure of encountering.

"Abraham Library. This is Bucky."

The infliction in his tone was all business, but he managed to make professionalism sound sexy.

"Hello?"

You were so distracted by his voice you forgot you had to talk.

"Hi, Bucky. Sorry," you smiled, praying you weren't speaking too loud when you gave him your name again. "We met on the subway?"

Please, remember me.

"Hi," his voice warmed considerably, making your palms tingle again for a different reason. "How are you?"

"I'm good," you answered. People asked you that every day, but it felt like he wanted to know. "How are you?"

"Not too bad. Better now. I- Well, I was hoping you'd call."

"You were?" you bit your lip to keep from grinning.

"Yeah. Been listening for the phone all day," he admitted with a small chuckle.

He did want me to call. He was waiting for me. Ha! Take that, Tina.

He cleared his throat, making you wonder if the admission embarrassed him or if he remembered he was working. "What can I do for you?"

I can give you a list of the things you can do to me.

"I was wondering if you still needed volunteers? I'd love to help out."

"Yeah. Of course. We could always use more volunteers. Let me check the calendar."

The silence should've been uncomfortable as you waited, but you didn't mind it.

What you didn't expect to hear next was a groan. A deep groan. One for the sexiest sounds you ever heard. How you didn't whimper in response when you took a seat was impressive.

"Is everything okay?" you asked when you found your voice.

"Yeah. I just forgot to mention that volunteers have to fill out an application," he explained, his voice quieter than it was before. Almost sheepish. "The approval process is quick, but I'm usually better about stating that upfront. I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize. I filled out the application before I called," you said.

"You did?"

"Yep," you smiled and swung your head toward your monitor. You still had the "application submitted" page up. "So no apologies."

Bucky sighed, the sound just as seductive as his groan as you heard typing in the background.

God, phone sex with him would probably make me collapse.

"Got it. It's right here. That's great." You heard more typing and you had to stop yourself from imagining what else those fingers of his could do. "We have a children's reading this Saturday. The session is from 10-10:30, but I could use some help setting up a few minutes before and maybe a bit after in case any of the kids want to stay longer."

"Saturday is great," you smiled, looking forward to seeing him again so soon. "I can be there at 9:45, if that works."

"That works for me. I'll get the application approved and you should be all set. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"No, I think that's it," you said, pushing your chair back so you could spin around.

It was a silly, happy victory twirl.

"Oh."

You stopped spinning immediately at that single word.

It was the same disappointed tone he had when you got to the restaurant and had to part ways.

But why would he be disappointed? I'm volunteering with him. Wait. He said he was listening for the phone all day. Does he really want to just talk to me?

He cleared his throat again. "If you need anything before Saturday, let me know."

"Wait! One more thing?" you blurted out before he could hang up.

"Yeah?" he asked hopefully.

You inhaled and exhaled once. Twice. You could do this.

"When you're done working Saturday, would you like to get lunch or dinner with me?" you asked as your stomach did an impressive round of somersaults.

You almost ended the call, not wanting to hear if he rejected you.

"I'd love to," he replied.

Your brain temporarily stopped functioning before his answer registered.

He said "yes"!

"Great! Um. Pizza?" you suggested.

Yes, use small words. That's good.

"I know a place right around the corner from the library. Best pizza in the city. You'll love it."

"I can't wait. See you Saturday?"

"It's a date," he smiled.

You set your phone down and waited a second before you spun around in your chair again. The excited shriek you let out was enough to fill your apartment. "He said 'yes'! It's a date! He's-"

A muffled chuckle from your desk made you stop short. Your stomach dropped when you saw the glow from your phone screen. The call was still going.

No. No! Fuck!

You straightened your back and picked up the device with as much dignity as you could. With all the blood rushing to your face, you were surprised you didn't pass out. Should you play it off as a joke? Ignore it?

"Um, are you still there?"

Maybe by some miracle he hung up.

"I am." He sounded like he was trying to hide his laughter. He did work in a quiet place after all.

"What exactly did you hear?" you asked because you were apparently a masochist who wanted to feel the pain again.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said casually. Too casually. "So, are you excited about Saturday?"

"You heard me, didn't you?" you accused as his quiet laughter crept back up.

God, the guy who recited poetry to me heard me shriek like a banshee. Is there a level worse than mortifying? Did Tina jinx me somehow?

"Why didn't you hang up?"

"Because neither of us said goodbye," he said, his voice quiet and casual again. "I didn't want to be rude."

Of course.

"To answer your question, yes, I'm looking forward to Saturday," you said evenly in the hopes you didn't sound embarrassed.

"So am I. Only reason I didn't yell is because I'm at work."

"You're just saying that," you smiled. It was nice that he tried to help you save face.

"I'm not. Honest. And, let's be serious, if those are the sounds you make just from the thought of a date with me…"

You managed not to embarrass yourself again when his voice deepened, but your cheeks got hot and you also wondered what other sounds he'd pull out of you. "Why don't you get back to work and maybe we can discuss that more on Saturday? After library hours."

"Or during."

Fuck.

"But I am hanging up now if you feel like screaming again."

He's smirking. I know he is.

"I'm hanging up, too. Bye," you giggled, pressing end this time so you could cover your face and groan.

The mortifying moment aside, which he seemed to find endearing, you somehow got yourself a date. The next part of your fairytale. You just wished Saturday wasn't so far, far away.

We have a date! Let's see how they're doing in A Real Prince Charming. Love and thanks! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ KoFi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #librarian!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #librarian!bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #library au #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you

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bloodchapell · 3 months ago

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the kirkegaard to my camus - armin a.

brief summary: you meet armin in a philosophy class and it seems there is something about him that is drawing you in. after talking over text and in class you propose to read the next story in his book together since you haven’t read it either. you do not read but spend the hour talking about it all.

what to expect: alt and very nerdy reader, equally nerdy armin, mutual pinning, armin being soo awkward

your sword’s note: this is the first delivery of this thing. i may or may not be projecting myself in the reader:0, other than that i love armin sm and love imagining little scenarios of daily things with him rather than just consuming smut like a fiend so this will focus more in the evolution of their relationship —yes there will still be smut eventually but the plot is the main thing rather than the smut. all future parts of this au series available in my mistresslist

It is no surprise that nerds tend to group together, and though you seemed to be a pretty girl with an amazing style, you were the biggest nerd ever. Bland people that could only gossip and talk about relationships were like sunlight for you as an aspiring vampire. You liked being able to sit down and talk about life and death and philosophy and astrology and music and science and conspiracies and everything and anything, and only some kind of people could really fulfill that hunger for comprehension from a mind on the same level.

You were majoring in fashion, but for funsies decided to take a philosophy class as an elective, and there you met Armin. He was shy and seating in the row next to the wall, and since you took insanely long in the morning to do your makeup and choose your clothes, you were moderately late and the only seat available was besides Armin when you got there.

As a proper philosophy class, you had to talk with people and debate, so the professor asked for everyone to talk to the person besides them and boom! You were talking to Armin. The talk started simple, introductions in the most basic sense, but your eyes soon caught a glimpse of the book under his elbow.

“I also like Asimov.” You pointed out and he turned around fully to face you nervously. He could not believe you knew Isaac Asimov. “Well he is the father of the laws of robotics we follow to this day…how could I not know him?”

Armin observed you closely. Your hair had an unusual haircut and he could see that it had been dyed over dye because the color was inconsistent. Your makeup was carefully done and not in a way to alter your features but enhance them and almost as decoration too. Your eyes were fierce and normally he wouldn’t speak to someone that looked like you in fear of being judged, ironically. He had a certain admiration for people that were cool looking, and almost some sort of envy. In the depth of your eyes that waited for him to say something he felt enthralled by you.

To say he was quietly fascinated is low. He caught an almost immediate crush on you and though he was too shy to talk, he found himself quickly comfortable knowing that you would start the conversations during class. That same day, you asked for his number and texted him right away.

As soon as he arrived to his dormitory, he sat down in his bed, ignored Eren, and texted you nonstop. Talking about simple things and confusing things could take you both hours, and the topic of the conversation swiftly changed and made the texting an ongoing conversation. You both went to sleep pretty late that night.

You two only shared one class, but had some gaps in your schedules that matched and by your own proposal, you two started hanging out together as often as possible. You had no other close friends, to Armin’s surprise, and his friends were often busy. For your first outing with him out of class you decided to go to the library since you both were yet to read Nightfall by Asimov so you asked to read it together in the library after class over text and though he was extremely hesitant, Eren convinced him of accepting.

“Hiii!” You said waiting for him in the entrance of the library. He didn’t know what brand it was but his eyes were immediately captivated by your h.NAOTO coat and the long Anna Sui black dress you decided to wear for the day.

“Hello.” Kind of shy he started. Initially he didn’t understand why you’d want to be seen with him, as if he was convinced –and he was– that having him by your side would take off aura points from you. He eventually got that you were beyond the comprehension of the average fellow and having such a knowledgeable person as he is as a friend was even an honor for you. He remembered Eren’s words: to compliment you. So he did. “I like your coat.”

“Well thanks, I also like your jacket, very dark academia-ish.” You laughed and walked inside the library. Armin was nervous as hell, he didn’t know where to put his hands or how to carry the book, suddenly his phone was seating uncomfortable in his pocket and the tag of his shirt started tickling his side, just as if everything was against him in that precise moment.

When you reached an area that was silent and a little secluded, you asked Armin if he wanted to seat by the window and when he agreed you two pushed two small sofas together.

“Did you finish reading The End of Eternity?” You asked taking off the coat and putting it in your lap. He nodded trying to make some eye contact. “Did you like the ending?”

“Yes, it makes sense, both sides make sense but I think I lean more towards supporting the Eternals, having a controlled and stable future seems better.” Armin said playing with the pages of the book in his hands, a collection of some works by Asimov. He had wished for the longest time to have a friend with whom he could discuss complicated things, he had imagined in his head that it’d be another nerd guy just like him or something; he had not expected for his wish to be granted in the form of a seemingly unreachable and mysterious goddess. He cringed at himself.

“Yeah stability does for sure sound calming, but don’t you think that it is kind of boring?” You inquired and he simply looked at you in hopes you’d expand your thought. “For sure stability is necessary, but controlling every possible outcome that seems negative can withhold progress, and what is better than to be better… uhmm for example, I wouldn’t like all my pieces to feel the same or look the same; amongst several fails something has to succeed. Mistakes are the road to progress after all.”

“Yeah I guess so too…” After a good second of silence, Armin said. “I guess if we are scared of failure we are consequently avoiding possible success.” He laughed softly and you smiled at him; he immediately thought you had a pretty smile.

Truth be told it was pretty easy for him to develop a crush on someone, but most were fundamentally just neutral, he saw someone and built their persona in his mind according to the information he had of them and would stay with that. It was different with you though, he started to believe there were genuine reasons for him to like you, you were of course beautiful and fashionable and cool, but you were also intelligent and thoughtful.

“Are you not afraid of making mistakes?” He suddenly asked and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“I don’t think I am that honorable. Mistakes are a pain in the ass but I guess I am not going out of my way to avoid making a mistake… it is a complicated thought.” You mentioned and he nodded as in trying to make sense of every word that came out of your mouth, as if they were words that could prophesy the meaning behind existence itself.

“That is so absurdist.” Armin laughed.

“So precise of me, so accurate of you to guess my philosophical current.”

“Absurdism, that is crazy. Guess mine.”

“Be the Kierkegaard to my Camus?” You asked taking off a ring from your hands and offering it to him. “I once read something by Kierkegaard in high school and it genuinely made my brain hurt.”

“He is a little complex.” Armin laughed softly without knowing how to react. You had guessed correctly and he knew, you didn’t even have to say the actual word, simply replacing “existentialism” by making an allusion of yourself as Albert Camus, father of absurdism, and of him as Søren Kierkegaard, father of existentialism; it was as if you were proving to him that you understood what he was talking about.

The silver ring did not fit in any of his fingers but his pinky, so there he wore it.

“Do I need to give the ring back?” He asked seconds after you put it in his right hand.

“Hmm you can keep it if you plan on using it next time.” You said standing up. The hour had passed already and your class was starting soon so you needed to go. “See you soon, next time let’s not get distracted and actually read.”

“Okay.” He waved goodbye from his seat and after you left he glanced at the ring for good ten minutes, your words just repeating over and over again in his mind, “next time”.

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