#it’s what he considers ‘fair and square’

[whippedcloudsofcream]

Theory: Gulltoppr’s feet were burned by Heimdall and Odin as a torture tactic to make him submit to being Heimdall’s steed.

[crishayle]

Astrology notes

Disclaimer. This is where I write my personal notes. They may not suit you because your other planets and aspects are stronger. Please consider this. Thanks for the feedback. Kisses ლ(´ڡ`ლ)

The placements in Leo/5th house are very dependent on music. They turn it on whenever possible. It doesn't matter with or without headphones. Some even have a ritual. For example, they don't clean or walk down the street without music

The beginning of the Capricorn season really fits the atmosphere of the end of the year. All people are stressed out, overworking to close deadlines. Everyone is save money for Christmas and gifts. Someone begins to feel apathy because of the cold and eternal darkness. Well, isn't it true that Capricorn's vibe? ૮₍˶Ó﹏Ò ⑅₎ა

People with a dominant Moon, do you also feel the phases of the Moon? For example, the recent full Moon in Cancer? I noticed that all my friends and clients with a dominant Moon constantly complain about some kind of fucked up full moon

If your Venus gets into the 1st house of a person in synastry, then he will consider you the ideal of beauty. That is, to accept literally everything. Even what you think is ugly

I noticed that people with a Leo in the Big Three (Sun, Moon, ascendant) most often have a pink skin tone or, more simply, a warm one

People can notice and especially feel not only your ascendant, but also the dominant planets and stelliums (including in houses). For example, the stellium in the 6th house may feel like Virgo, and the dominant Moon like Cancer or the sign of your Moon

Mars in the 7th house is not so much conflicted as fair and harsh in words. He will not quarrel from scratch, but if he feels disrespect, lies or arrogance, then… Well, you know... But in general, they are very pleasant and interesting people

Some of the most physically resilient people most often have Mars in Scorpio/Sagittarius/Virgo. They may not look athletic, but they withstand heavy loads much better than others. Although maybe it's their strength of mind, not their body.

Many aspects to Neptune can indicate a person who has an eternal mess at home

Any aspect of Jupiter and the Sun indicates optimism. Of course, they get upset too and sometimes don't believe in themselves, but their resourcefulness is much stronger than sadness.

People with the Sun/Moon square/opposition Saturn often suffer from hyper-responsiveness. It is very important for them to keep everything under control and this can literally bring themselves to neurosis

Mercury conjunct Venus with orb 0 or 1 is always a beautiful voice, maybe they don't have to sing, but they have a velvety and most often a little low voice

The Sun/Moon square/opposition Neptune most often consider their parents to be a little infantile, or they have been put in the role of a third parent since childhood. For example, a mother could see her daughter as a babysitter for her younger daughter. Simply put, such people have already felt older and wiser than their parents since childhood

People with the Moon conjunct/trine/sextile Saturn are very well-mannered. They understand what morality is, they are moderately kind, moderately modest, they know how to communicate politely and beautifully

Girls with stellium in Scorpio have always attracted, attract and will attract everyone's attention (but especially men's). Moreover, they are admired by other girls (they subscribe to them on Instagram and constantly watch stories and photos)

I recently read that Socrates (the man who invented rhetoric) may have been with the Sun in Gemini. I'm not surprised

People with the Moon sextile/trine/conjunct Venus are adorable. It's not even about charisma here, but about the fact that they are generally quite cute in character and appearance

The dominant Pluto in the natal chart may indicate a love of sarcasm, black humor and a slightly harsh manner of speech. Touchy people consider them rude, but for Plutonians this is their usual way of communicating

A little more about Pluto. Stephen King has many aspects that point to his love and talent in the horror genre. This is Pluto in the 1st house, Mercury sextile Pluto, the Moon trine Pluto, Scorpio in the 5th house

[nabtime]

Sir Waylon of Gotham

Waylon wasn't much for talkin' to hoity-toity well-to-doers. Didn't much like their attitude. Or the way they looked at 'im. Lookin' down their noses, all pinched-faced and holier-than-thou, like he was the scum of the earth for the way he looked. And while Waylon wouldn't deny that he was scum, it sure weren't for lookin' the way he did. He'd earned that title fair 'n square, through hard work 'n strikin' fear inta the people of Gotham.

And he did that by bitin' they's arms off, not 'cause he was a li'l scaly.

Point was, Waylon didn't talk much with fancy people. Yeah, he talked to the Bat Brood and they could half be considered fancy on account of mostly bein' Waynes under the mask, but they didn't count. Not really. 'Specially their newest petite couyon that liked to swing about in his sewers like the chit owned the place. He didn't know how the kid was added to the family- coulda been adopted, coulda been one a' the other one's partner, coulda been another blood son a popped up outta nowhere 'gain.

Waylon didn't ask and the chit never said. No, all Phantom ever wanted to talk 'bout was how Waylon was doin. Idjit was far too concerned about Waylon's well-bein' when he shoulda been mindin' his own damn business. Kid said it was part a his business. That heroes had to check in on the reformed, make sure they were well and happy so they didn't have a need to get back inta villainy. Waylon wanted to call bullshit on 'im but he just didn't have the heart when the kid looked so earnest 'bout it.

And maybe the kid was swingin' in all the time just to check in on an Old Croc. Maybe even the kid didn't mind bein' 'round 'im an 'is big, scary teeth. Sure it were more likely he needed an escape an' the sewers were a place most Bats didn't venture less they had to, but iffin that were true- kid didn't have to find and talk to him every time.

All this was to say that he'd gotten used to seein' Danny 'round the sewers, and even seein' Jay when the older kid was sent to bring the other back topside.

Who he had not gotten used to seein' in the sewers, though, was a pretty thing all done up in medieval dress and glowin' green. Nor was he used to the hulking Knight done up in glowin' black armor standin' next ta her.

And, again, Waylon wasn't much for talkin' to hoity-toity people, let alone Ghost Royalty or some such, but he was still a man with manners. An' they were in his sewers (well, an' Grundy's, but the big lug weren't here, so's point was moot) so he was haven'ta be the one to greet 'em.

He growl echoed off the stone and muck as he approached the two beings that were floating midair, just above the water. They both looked lost until he fully rose from the grime and addressed them.

"Youins need somethin? Ya lookin fer Danny?"

And, well, Waylon said he had manners. Never said he was gonna use 'em.

"Oh!" said the sweet thing in flowing gown, her voice just as soft as she looked. "Yes! You must be the good Sir Waylon of Gotham that the King speaks so fondly of. I am Princess Dorathea and this is my personal guard, Fright Knight."

Sir Waylon? Now that's not somethin' he's ever heard afore. Him? Deservin' of a title like Sir? Ain't no way. He weren't 'bout to say nothin', but it sure did make him feel all flustery that a noble Lady like her would think so highly of a monster like him.

"Nah I wouldn' say he's 'xactly fond a me, but the name is Waylon, yeah, uh- My Lady."

And she smiled at 'im, sweet as anythin', like he weren't made a sharp edges an spilled blood. The big Knight aside her was actin like that too, posture relaxed as he just let her get closer. Closer an most people ever dared. 'Cept Phantom an some a the Bats. Was it a ghost thing? No fear a death, so whats scary about a big man with sharp teeth anymore?

"Would Sir Phantom be near-abouts?" she asked. "I require his counsel on matters of import."

"Sorry, cher- uh, My Lady," he grumbled, "ain't gotta clue where he's at. Somewhere's topside, prolly."

Her shoulders slumped just the slightest, obviously disappointed in his answer. And try as he might to want to give her a better one, he only knew where the kid was when he wanted to hang around underground. Waylon avoided the streets at all costs these days, not wantin' to risk trouble again. He'd spent enough of his days wastin' away in Arkham and Blackgate, thanks.

The Lady turned thoughtful though and graced him with a tilt of her head and a smile. "Perhaps you would deign to assist me instead, Sir Waylon?"

"Well nah, I'd love ta, My Lady. Supposin' its somethin' I can help ya with."

"Yes," she said, circling around him in a graceful glide, "so long as you are willing, you will suit just fine."

"Ya still haven't told me what ya need help with, ah- My Lady."

Waylon couldn't see the Knight's expression but he could almost feel the amusement pourin' off a him. And he wondered just what the hell he'd agreed to that a guy like that'd find it funny.

"My brother is making moves to take back the Kingdom. He has amassed a small, but skilled contingent of rebels and intends to usurp me at the upcoming Yule Celebration."

"So ya need muscle ta help stop 'im?"

"Oh no," she said, sweet but full of venom- like arsenic. Her grin was now full of teeth, teeth much to sharp for a proper Lady like her, and her eyes turned to glowing reptilian points. "I can take care of him myself. I intended to ask Sir Phantom along as contingency."

She looked him up and down and the Knight standing guard behind her was projectin' a certain smugness as he did the same.

"You, however, Sir Waylon," she said, and the tone near sent a shiver down his spine. "Will do well as both warrior and suitor."

"What say you?"

[radiance1]

There was a dragon in space. A brilliant, glowing white eastern dragon that looked like a star moving within space.

It seemingly wasn't doing anything, just floating throughout space with seemingly, no destination in mind. Sometimes it flies around earth, looking but never flying down onto the planet, sometimes it lands on the moon, taking a nap or just playing around by itself.

There were other times it flew through the asteroid belt hiding the Watchtower, yet it hasn't found it yet.

Yet.

The dragon didn't seem like a threat, just playing around within space, minding its own business. Batman monitors it regardless, however.

They didn't know where it came from, what its powers were, why it was here or if its intentions of playing were bound to change into something of hostility. He made eventual plans for it, if it were to turn violent one day, though he leaved it to its own devices for the most part.

His plans were to be used for the What-ifs, not willy nilly.

There came a time when the Justice League were having a debrief in the Watchtower, as they usually do. When the satellites discreetly monitoring it picked up on something.

Another dragon.

One that resembled a western dragon more with black and purple scales.

The first dragon they were monitoring seemed to be off put by the other one, uncharacteristically hostile. Meanwhile the other dragon seemed to be smug, arrogant, seemingly about to on some kind of speech before realizing it couldn't talk in space.

They fought, and they got a view of the dragon's abilities for the first time. Ice, energy blasts, shields, and a wail so powerful it could even be heard clearly throughout space.

the other dragon was no slouch, either, though seemingly less abilities than the other. Fire, speed and strength, which was a given considering their species. It tanked multiple of the other dragon's attacks, though seemed desperate, wary, and even scared of its wail.

They both injured each other, quite severely too. The second dragon seemed to have gotten the upper hand, and got cocky because of that, and so, failed to avoid a wail that blasted it back, followed by two more.

It got hit by the second and barely dodged the third. Then had to retreat due to its injuries.

The first dragon wasn't that well off either, various cuts around its body and green blood leaking out into space. It sluggishly flew to the moon, landed, and then stopped moving entirely.

They decided to try and help it.

-----

Danny was the recently crowned prince of the Ghost Zone, though its king, Pariah Dark, was still in his coffin.

He got a new ability, which was sweet! He could turn into an eastern dragon, which was extremely nice, though a bit annoying having to get used to whenever he woke up and realized most of his body was off his bed because he shifted into a dragon overnight.

What was less cool was how many responsibilities as prince he had to go through, etiquette training, learning history, attending the apparent 'high society' of the ghost zone parties, deciding who gets what fair and square and making sure there was nothing going severely wrong in the Zone.

Something the King was supposed to be doing, but you know, can't when he's sleeping and all.

And how could he forget? The marriage proposals.

He goddamn hated them. So much so that he had to publicly demand to stop sending him them be he's never going to court and marry anyone.

All was good, for a while. But of course, everything couldn't go so smoothly for him. The Observants foresaw a future where he apparently went 'mad with power being the sole royalty' and thought him to be the next coming of Pariah Dark, and then forcibly stated that anyone who can beat him in combat is someone who will marry him, no courting involved and no matter how Danny feels about the ghost.

Danny Obviously didn't like that, not at all. But it was fine, for the most part, because there was no ghost capable of besting him in combat. Well, there were some, but they just simply weren't interested in becoming king or in Vlad's case, marrying him

Prince Aragon

The guy kept trying and trying, no matter how many times he defeated him. Claiming that because he has the ability to turn into a dragon, he simply has to marry him, that he deserved to have Danny as his bride.

Danny still batted him away, making jokes and mocking him for it, even. Though he had a sneaking suspicion that Aragon wanted to marry him to regain his nobility, but that wouldn't happen.

He then disappeared out of nowhere, off the face of the Ghost Zone too. Danny was glad for it, no skin off his back if someone that annoying disappeared, so he went on life as normal, hanging out with his friends, managing ghostly responsibilities, and spending more time with his family.

Even his grades got better! Now that ghost attacks happened less.

Then Aragon reappeared one day, declaring another fight for his hand in marriage. Danny thought it would be easy as all the other times. But something was different with Aragon, he was stronger, faster, more durable.

And it scared him. Scared him how very close the fallen prince was to defeating him in combat, how close he was to losing and having to marry Aragon, how close he was to having to have someone like that as his spouse for what may very well be eternity.

He had a nightmare, that night. One where he lost and was forcibly married to Aragon.

So he ran. He told his friends and family why he was running, and didn't care to tell anyone else why he was running, he just had to get away before his nightmare became a reality.

He went through a lot of dimensions, realms, whatever. Not staying for long, constantly looking over his shoulder just in case Aragon was right behind him, following him.

He ended up in space, near earth and he, tired of all the running and just wanting to stay somewhere for once, stayed. Floating around space.

[anantaru]

— their favorite form of pda (public display of affection)

including dan heng, blade, jing yuan, luocha, sampo, gepard, welt x gn! reader

꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff, crack, very sweet n cute

when it comes to dan heng, he, for one part, enjoys less than more— you can catch him quietly patting your back whenever you‘re doing something, or on any occasion you'd meet up with your boyfriend, he'd make himself visible by kissing your cheek. it's rarely your lips when people were close by, yet if it was someone he considered a friend as well, dan heng did not mind smooching your lips for a short while. by all odds, he was observant of the current setting he found himself in and he waits long enough to relocate the vibes and go with them. it's also worth to note that dan heng would never attempt to do something to make you uncomfortable, he was a patient man, marking time and pausing to identify any discomfort.

notably enough, blade thinks it‘s cute, no scrap that, doubtlessly ambrosial when he notices how you're waiting for it to happen— howbeit, you‘re sneakily inching a square near his body so he can as a matter of course swathe his broad arm around your shoulders and leave it there to be tumbling around you. all the same example was blade expecting you to do the same and encircle him back. briefly, you will remain in a flowing setting and be fond of the exchanged heaves of air when you‘re slowing yourself into his chest— because fundamentally speaking, there has been nothing that had a more tranquil stifling on you then listening to blade's heart-beats.

as one clearly might’ve made an estimate thus far, jing yuan needs you to be as sheltered as possible against his immersing cradle. your boyfriend evidently does not want to unintentionally overstep any boundaries with you and makes it his own personal responsibility to be an eager listener while also hugely monitoring when he senses it‘s okay to approach you a tad closer. as a general rule, the subdued signaling will wind up with jing yuan listlessly planting his palm on your lower back whenever you walk into, well, really anywhere; a fine scented flower shop was only one of such. greater yet— the man was a gentleman, opening the door for you and silently swaying his large hand up and down your back to voicelessly tell you that, yes indeed, he was present and there's nothing for you to worry about.

the fetching and enticing luocha who, in his immediate brilliance, had a charming practice of turning relatively flustered, cheeks swelled up whenever he thought about it— all in all, what in the eyes of his significant other was too much or too little, all your boyfriend wanted to proudly achieve was to hit that spotless middle and make you doubtlessly happy in the process. he coughs, managing to get his hand towards your lower arm before exhaling softly, it's done now, he realizes, lips twitching in the process when you're amusedly watching him fold, "this is awkward, don't you think?" you giggle, pointing towards the comical picture of luocha holding onto you— significantly resembling a child holding onto their parent in a grocery store. "lets try this instead." above you, you see a man with a blush on his handsome features, leaning into whatever you say as you effortlessly slip your fingers and tangle them into his own.

how would you, individualistically, describe your boyfriend sampo koski? by fair means, it was impossible, unthinkably out of the question. you often find yourself quite surprised and baffled on how fickle and unpredictable he appeared to be. wether it had been sampo suddenly grabbing a stern hold of your hand to twirl you around in front of everyone or him swiftly cutting you off mid speech to place a kiss on your parted lips. 'i felt like it', he says proudly, with that damned smirk caked around the sharp edges of his mouth, but 'i needs more' sampo will add on, only then he'll shut up in a satisfied bliss and let you carry on with the topic you had been rambling about to him.

you sometimes wonder if the general and your personal protector gepard could turn even cuter— the hint of a full shaded blush on his cheeks as he averts his gaze and nervously coughs into his hand. but do not get fooled, he cannot possibly help himself, it's not like he will ever get used to you agreeing to the silent, little flushed request of gepard longing to hold your hand. be it known throughout entire spaces, he certainly does not stop here, what held gepard's mind locked behind heart shaped clouds, was when you'd visit him at work sometimes— undeniably when he wasn't busy for once; the unwavering courage, as he referred to it, for you to smirkingly place a subtle kiss on his burning lips after encountering him was indescribable for the man, and this craving he went through now had become like an infinite road— forever, he hopes, you'd show him more of that flickering kindness, the one that had lifted any burdens off his soul.

upwardly subtle and efficiently sophisticated— the very two turns of phrases that would adequately describe welt‘s usual approach on you. if he had to speak out more clear to a subject such as pda, which he does more than you'd sometimes like to admit, he was personally not all too bothered nor interested on it. distinctly, it's not like he found any particular distaste in it, he simply has not spent any time going over it alone more sufficiently. in a clearer way did he not view it as something holding a significant importance in your relationship. but, from time to time, he too catches himself fall into it, especially when you‘re inviting him with open arms surrounded by precious friends and colleagues, awaiting a passion infused hug welt always did justice to.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[prncessrindou]

fast n’ furious // repost from wakashawty

♱ CONTENT WARNING . . fem!reader, street racer!wakasa, unprotected sex, jealousy, waka scares reader w his driving, car sex, marijuana use, creampie and use of pet names.

♱ WORD COUNT . . 2.5k

“You did the damn thing tonight, Waka.” A woman said as she grinned in Wakasa’s face.

The track was the place to be on Friday nights. It’s where every racer got to show off their rides and skills behind the wheel. The money was something to look forward to, but Wakasa didn’t thrive off that. What get his adrenaline pumping is knowing the dangers and consequences behind it.

“Hm, you think so?” Wakasa asked the grinning woman.

As usual, Wakasa stolen another victory with his superior driving skills, winning the money fair and square. The other challenger was mean muggin him from afar, though Wakasa was unaware of this or just didn’t give a shit.

“Is it just me or is he mean muggin you?” The woman asked. Wakasa shrugged, “he’ll be alright.” He responded nonchalantly as he leaned back against his car.

You suddenly and purposefully stormed out by Wakasa and the women. You knew that Wakasa was popular with the women before getting into a relationship with him, though you thought it would’ve stopped when you guys finally came out, but all it did was get one hundred times worse.

Wakasa grabbed your arm, pulling you into his chest. “Where do you think you’re going?” He asked into your ear, wrapping his arms around your waist and biting your earlobe softly. The other girls watched in disbelief and walked away. Finally, he thought.

“Home.” You muttered. “Oh? Well, how are you going to get there, hm?” He asked with a teasing grin on his face.

“I’m walking!” You pushed away from his chest and looked around, “where did your little girlfriend run off to? You should go after her!” You spat.

Wakasa chuckled, “she’s right in front of me.” He said, “seeing you get all jealous is so sexy, princess.” He grabs your waist and pulls you into his chest once more, “especially in this skirt.” He begins tugging on it, “you have no idea what you’re doing to me right now.”

You rolled your eyes, “I ain’t jealous.” You wouldn’t consider yourself as a person with low self esteem, but you never thought someone like Wakasa Imaushi would be interested in you. When he first asked you out, you turned him down. Simply because you thought he was out of your league and Wakasa never had a woman to turn him down. Ever… He knew then and there that you were the one and he had to have you.

“But, you are totally jealous.” He responded, “and I think it’s hot.” He whispered into your ear, gripping on the plush of your ass. You hit his chest and he chuckled, “we’re in public, you perv!” You squealed.

“And? I’m just grabbing what’s mine.” Wakasa said as he placed a kiss on your nose.

You couldn’t help, but smile. Wakasa was good at making you smile, no matter the situation.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, placing a kiss on his soft lips. “Hm, I think I deserve more than just one kiss, baby.” Wakasa grinned. You hummed, “you did win tonight so I guess you do deserve an reward.” You said, kissing his soft lips.

Suddenly a group of girls came out of nowhere, “Hey, Wakaaa!” They shouted loudly. “Are you coming to the kickback?” One girl out the group asked.

“When is it starting?” Wakasa asked, letting go of your waist and turning his attention to the girls.

“It’s going on now.” A girl responded, “we’re heading there now, you should come and… bring your lady friend.” The girl teased.

Oh, this fucking bitch.

“Sounds like it’ll be fun.. wanna swing by, baby?” Wakasa turns his attention towards you. You now have your arms folded, making your breast sit up high and his dick twitches upon seeing it.

He wants to put his face in them in front of these girls.

“Swing by your fucking self!” You walked off, bumping into him with as much force as you could and walking to the passenger side of his car, getting in and slamming the door as hard as you could.

The girls were speechless after seeing your behavior and honestly, you, yourself weren’t too happy with how you handled it. You wish you didn’t get so worked up because that’s what they want you to do so they can get a good laugh about how they got under your skin.

Wakasa waved his arms up in the air, “what gives, baby?” He mouthed. You flipped him off and he sighed deeply. Suddenly, he got in the car and started it; he pulled off on the girls, leaving them where they stood. The car ride was silent, you were looking out through the window as Wakasa drove down the dark highway. “Ya’ hungry?” He finally broke the silence.

You didn’t respond, you remained looking out the window. Wakasa leaned over and opened the glove department, taking out a already rolled up blunt. “So yer’ not gonna talk to me? Gonna give me the silent treatment?” He spoken up, putting the blunt to his mouth and lighting it up, inhaling it.

You remained silent, just shifting in your seat. Waka sighed, exhaling the smoke. He pressed his foot down on the gas, pushing eighty miles.

You noticed the car speed difference. You glanced over and saw that Wakasa was pushing eighty, but you still refused to say anything to him. You wasn’t about to give in and say anything to him about the speed, thinking he’d just slow down eventually, but that wasn’t the case at all.

The engine was roaring as Wakasa pushed the gas, one hand on the steering wheel while the other hand held onto the blunt, putting it up to his mouth here and there. Now he was pushing ninety, and you were getting a little nervous.

Wakasa didn’t say a word, eyes fixated on the road as the cars speed was getting higher. “Hey, Waka.. slow down a bit.” You finally spoke, looking at Wakasa.

He didn’t respond nor acknowledge you, he kept his eyes strictly on the road. Your heart was beating out of your chest as the speed reached ninety, getting closer and closer to one-hundred. “Damnit, Wakasa! Slow the fuck down now!” You screamed.

Wakasa abruptly pressed down on the breaks, the car screeching to a stop. Your hands went to the dashboard, breathing heavily as the car finally came to a stop. “The fuck is wrong with you?!” You yelled, voice wobbly from being scared half to death.

Wakasa starts to laugh, “my bad, baby.” He said, “jus’ wanted you to say some’ to me.”

“And you thought pulling some shit like that would do the trick? You’re really a jackass, Waka!” You spat, you were on the verge of tears because you really got frighten.

Don’t cry in front of him, don’t be a pussy!

Wakasa peeped your voice change, “hey, look at me..” he grabbed your attention by grabbing your chin, “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya’.” He said, “don’t cry.. you’re too pretty for that.” His thumb wiping away your tears.

“Whatever,” you sniffed, “just take me home, please.”

Wakasa doesn’t say anything else and just nods. He presses his foot on the gas gently and drives away. But, instead of taking you home like you wished, he takes you to a secluded spot. A spot you and him usually go to after his races.

“What are we doing here?” You questioned.

He backed the car in, placed it in park and turned off the engine. He adjusted his seat and leaned back in it, “you still mad at me?” He asked, his voice was low and deep.

“What do you think?” You questioned, with a bit of bite in your tone.

“C’mere.” Wakasa said. You gave it some thought and gave in, climbing over and sat in front of him on his lap.

His tatted hands were rubbing your exposed plush thighs. The way you were sitting, you could feel his cock underneath you. “Sorry ‘bout that, didn’t mean to scare you. Can you forgive me?” He asked, half lidded eyes staring at you.

You rolled your eyes and you shrugged. Wakasa chuckled lowly. “What’s funny?” You asked.

“Nothin’.. you’re just sexy as hell when you’re mad.” He replied, “and y’know what else?”

“I dunno.. what?”

He licked his lips, “I also get mad and jealous too.. like earlier before the race started, I saw you talking to a few dudes… and I saw how they were checking you out.” He squeezed your thighs, “it pissed me off.. I wanted to bend you over in front of those fuckers to let them know who you belong to.” Wakasa said.

“Why didn’t you if it pissed you off that much?” You questioned, using your finger to trace over his exposed tatted chest.

Wakasa chuckled, “You really would’ve let me fuck you in front of everybody?”

“Dunno, maybe.” You shrugged.

Wakasa lazily smiled, “don’t play with me, miss we’re in public.”

“Oh, shut up!” You chuckled. Wakasa chuckled lowly, continuing to rub your thighs. “But,” he begins to speak, “all jokes aside, I really am sorry.” He says.

You sigh deeply, “I guess I can forgive you.. you’re lucky you’re so pretty.”

“Not as pretty as you.” Wakasa grins. You lean down to place a kiss on his lips, not realizing what you were actually doing in the process.

“Mm, do that again.” Wakasa says lowly. Wakasa groaned as you leaned over again, but stops you midway and grabs your hips, moving you back and forth as you sat on his lap, grinding on his clothed cock.

You felt his cock harden as you grind on his lap, Waka groaned once more at the friction you were causing, “fuck.. if you keep that up, you might start something you can’t finish.” he says, squeezing your thighs with his hands.

“Who says I can’t finish it?” you questioned, smashing your lip against his for a passionate kiss, you could taste a bit of mint from the gum Wakasa had earlier. You pulled away from his lips, “I always finish what I start.”

Wakasa grinned and licked his lips, your confidence amusing to him, “then show me.” He said, “show daddy how you finish shit.”

“With pleasure.” You said, unzipping Wakasa pants and his hard cock sprung up from his jeans, the tip oozing out pre cum. You raised your hips up, lifting your skirt up as Wakasa helped pulled your panties to the side. “A thong, huh? Fuck..” he said, biting his lips at the sight of your bare cunt.

He rubbed his tip against your folds, gathering your slick. You moaned at the friction and allowed him to slip inside of your cunt. “Fuck, fuck, fuckkk—” you moaned, your walls burning at how his cock was stretching you out.

You didn’t move your hips at all, it was almost as if you were cockwarming him. “Wakaaa, you’re so— shit!” You sobbed, laying your head in the crook of his neck. The smell of his cologne hitting your nostrils; you placed wet kisses on his neck.

“Mm, is my pretty girl gonna ride me?” His hands on the globe of your ass, squeezing your plushy skin. You nodded your head profusely, rocking your hips back and forth on his dick. He was huge to say the less, his dick dragging against your walls with every movement you made.

Wakasa watched as you bounced on his length, feeling the buzz from the weed he smoked earlier. He’s digging his nails into your skin, trying so desperately to control himself from slamming you down on his dick and fucking you dumb. Your pussy is clenching and spasming around him, he’s getting dizzy from it.

“Fuck, princess.. yer’ pussy squeezing the shit outta me!” Wakasa murmured, throwing his head back against the seat as you rocked him. He looks so pretty like this, surrounded in bliss as pleasure took over him.

You lifted your hips up, his length shining with your slick and his tip remained the only thing in your wet folds as you began moving your hips in a different way.. a way that would drive him crazy.

W— A— K—, your hips spelled out the first three letters of his name and then the forth, A—.

“Fuckkkk—,” Wakasa realized what you were doing, “that’s so sexy, shit baby..” biting his bottom lip and letting you continue doing what you were doing. S— A—.. by the time you finished the last word, he slammed your hips down; his fat tip practically tasting your spongy core and his length pulsating against your warm walls. “Ohhh- my! Fuck, Wakaaa!” You squealed, wrapping your arms around his neck as he lifted your ass up and down his dick.

His fingers were digging into your skin, enough to leave marks on your skin for the next day. You felt yourself coming undone as he repeatedly pounded your core. “Shit, m’ cummin! M’ cumminnnn!” You sobbed, Wakasa then guided your hips to go back and forth, practically grinding your clit against him.

“Heh,” he chuckled, “make a mess then, baby.” He said as he smacked your ass.

That was all he needed to say for you to snap. You sobbed Wakasa’s name like it was a sacred prayer as your high came washing over you like it was a tidal wave.

You knew Waka was close from how his dick was twitching inside of you. He continued rocking your hips back and forth while squeezing his eyes shut, groaning in your ear as pleasure took over him, spraying your walls with his warm cum. “Mmh, fuckkk,” he growled, gripping and slapping your ass as he came down from his high.

You both were out of breath, completely spent. Wakasa chuckles, throwing his head back against the seat, “so when were you gonna tell me you could do that freaky shit?” He asked, his large hands rubbing your ass.

You giggled, snuggling your face into his chest, “it was the spur of the moment type thing.. I was just trying something.”

“Hm,” Wakasa hums, “spur of the moment, huh? Well, it was hot as fuck.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it so much.” You leaned up, placing a kiss on his soft lips. You felt Wakasa’s dick harden back up as it remained inside of you. You broke away from the kiss, “tell me you’re not serious..!?” you said, Wakasa was grinning from ear to ear, “well, what can I say? You still owe me my reward for winning tonight.”

You arched your brow, “what are you talking about?” You questioned, “we literally just fucked.”

“Yeahhh, I know we did,” Waka said, “but, you was just proving to me you can finish what you start… proving yourself and giving a reward are two different things, princess.”

You rolled your eyes and you couldn’t help, but smile. “What am I going to do with you, Wakasa Imaushi?”

Wakasa laughed, his laugh was warm and his smile had butterflies swarming around in your stomach. “I don’t know, baby.” He said, suddenly smashing his lips against yours. He began moving your hips again, squelching sounds filled the car as he did so. The friction causing you to squeal in his mouth.

He broke away from the kiss, grinning from how you reacted to him moving your hips, “but, I know what I’m going to do with you though.” He smiles before sealing your lips with a kiss.

[ghosts-cyphera]

Harder.

╰﹒ sometimes a slip of Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley’s hand is all the push you need.

content/warnings: swearing and suggestiveness; gn!reader; wc: 1k

a/n: gods, it's been years since I've last posted my stories online, but I couldn't sleep after playing CoD and... well. those who get it, get it. feedback and requests are welcome! ♡

Your feet pounded the cement as you ran through the cargo hold, finding security from the midst of the rusty metal containers.

All around you shouts and calls erupted from your friends' lips—some followed by warm laughs, others by deep curses, as the Task Force 141 submerged into the practice session.

"Gaz, do you copy?" The call passed your lips as a warm chuckle, as you crouched behind an oil container. "I've just gotten Soap's dog tags."

"Oh, I know." The reply was spoken with a laugh. "He's sent Ghost to come and find you. Fuckin' dumb on his part, considering that—"

"His tags are the last ones we need to win." You nodded your head. "Any visual on him? The last I've seen him was when he swiped poor fucking Roach off his—"

"I only needed his dog tags, didn't I?"

You grinned at the deep voice echoing from the other side of the container. You should have focused on listening to him approaching, but then, when did you ever really hear him coming?

"Funny," you chuckled back at the man, as you planted your feet steadier against the ground, careful to not make a sound. "You see, Lieutenant, your tags are exactly what I need. So why don't you just go ahead and toss them to me? We can take it real nice and easy."

"'Cause that's how you fuckin' like it, eh?"

You could hear the laughter in his voice, slightly breathless from the time spent dashing around under the scorching sun. Just moments before you had cursed the heat under your breath as you'd felt the pearls of sweat rolling down your forehead. Running in full gear tended to get to the fittest of the force, yet it did have its benefits, too.

Benefits, such as the sound of Ghost's vest brushing against the metal of the container. At your ear level, right around the corner to your right.

You wet your lips with your grin. "Want me to show you just how I like it, Lt.?"

"Darlin', you and I both know that I can read you like an open fuckin' book."

You could hear the brush of his vest against the metal again, as he moved closer to you. You knew he was out of paint-ammo: Gaz had gotten away with his tags from mere luck only moments prior, which meant that you had the higher ground. The moment he moved to lunge at you, could take him down with a single pull of the trigger, and grab his tags off his soon-to-be paint-covered vest.

Yet what was the fun in that?

With an arched brow, you laid your gun on the pavement. The screech of it against the ground, as you kicked it out of both your reaches, did not go unnoticed by Ghost.

”Sure you wanna do that, love?”

"Just to make it fair and square," you chuckled.

"You know I can't just kick off half my fucking body, yeah?"

"Wasn't it just this morning that I wiped the floors with your—"

A gasp and a curse were all you could manage, as your back collided with the hard cement of the ground. Handling the shock of the impact was one thing, but seeing him towering over you, fucking victorious, was another pill to swallow.

"Jesus fuck, Ghost." Despite your voice being a mere pained groan, you could not shake off the laughter from your features: the same laughter that glimmered in his eyes. "You know we're just fucking practicing, right?"

"I know. But you see, whatever the fuck it was that you said about takin' it nice and fuckin' easy—," he chuckled, as he crouched by you, "just doesn't do it for me. So what do you say I take these…"

His skeleton-patterned gloves reached for the chain around your neck, and just as you rolled your eyes at the certainty of your team having lost over you letting down your guard, the events began to unfold.

Whether it was from his finger slipping on your glistening skin, or from you turning your head at the exact wrong moment—perhaps it was from the combination of both—his hand did not wrap around the chain of your dog tags.

Instead, Ghost's fingers wrapped around your throat.

One moment he was sure of the victory of his team. Next, his brain could not function. For there you fucking were, on your back with your eyes slightly widened and lips parted, and his hand—his goddamn gloved hand around your throat from all the fucking places.

The worst of it all was not the wave of embarrassment that flushed through him. The worst of it was how fucking good you looked.

Yet he knew.

He knew.

No, he should have known better than to let his guard down: to allow himself to get distracted by the tug of the corners of your lips, as you tilted your head ever so slightly, chest rising and falling with your heavy breaths, your eyes fucking twinkling. 

Yet as the fingers of your hand rested on his and the word passed your lips, fucking pretty, who could blame him?

"Harder."

To hell and fucking above. From your breathless request, his lips parted involuntarily under his mask. To say what, he did not know: plead, maybe, for the first time in his life.

No, it wasn't pleading and begging you wanted from him, was it? Quite the fucking opposite.

No. Focus.

Fucking focus, Lt.

Using the fleeing moment of his racing thoughts to your advantage, you pushed off the ground and brought your knife—sheathed—to his throat. The twinkle in your eyes was brighter than ever, and as you laughed, the sound was all but menacing.

"Really, Ghost?"

"Don't even fucking begin," he cursed, breathless, as your fingers wrapped around the chain around his neck, and tugged off the dog tags. 

Yet as long as he had tried to deny it, it was not the slight touch of humiliation of having lost that made his head spin. You—he wet his lips, as he watched you twirling the tags around your finger—were going to be the goddamn death of him, and for one reason or another, he was ready to welcome it with open fucking arms.

“Ready for round two, sarge?” His chuckle was deep as you tossed his dog tags back to him, your eyes twinkling with challenge. “You know, I’m not gonna take it fuckin’ easy on you now.”

“Oh, that’s mutual, Lt.” 

That—Ghost wet his lips with a chuckle—that he was fucking counting on.

[blackopals-world]

Otaku!Yuu: I'm tired of you disrespecting my taste in romance.

Writer!Yuu: I will remind you that you asked very inappropriate questions about me and Jack. Because and I quote "Vet!Yuu got mad at you and Idia for just wanting to know if werewolf fiction was realistic"

Otaku!Yuu: I will admit it wasn't our best moment but I will not be ridiculed as having no idea how love works.

Writer!Yuu: Well tell me how you and Idia got together then. Considering he never leaves his room I want to know.

Otaku!Yuu: Well he isn't always in his room. It kind of started as a rivalry of sorts. I started going to the game room regularly to play on the machines. Idia is in the board game club and that is the room they use so naturally he played them too. I beat a few of his high scores and then he beat them again. I began leaving sticky notes behind taunting him and he did the same. I left my phone number eventually and we texted. It was most teasing and jokes with few memes. We even raced to see who could reserve a copy of a manga we both wanted. He won and I was really mad. I talked to him about this stuffed animal I wanted at the arcade in the town but it was an insane amount of tickets. I worked for weeks to get it but the day I got enough this blue-haired guy shows up and gets it first. I was so mad I was angry crying. I looked just like a stuffed animal I had in my world so I had to have it. We ended up arguing about who needed it more. He said it was a gift for someone he liked and that he got it first fair and square. I said that whoever he was giving it to wouldn't appreciate it like I would and that I'd give him my tickets. He took offense to that and began going on and on about how amazing the person he liked was and that they really wanted this stuffy. I said he was stupid and that the person I liked had him beat. Well before you know it we ended up discovering that the person we had been chatting with was the other. The gift was for me the whole time and we had unintentionally confessed to each other. The employee managed to tell us that they had more of the stuffed animals in the back and that we both could have one. It was very embarrassing. We ended up playing games together after that. DDR, crane games, and this one trivia game that I was awful at. He won it for me and I crushed him at this shooting game. It's odd looking back that we both fell in love with someone behind a screen. We didn't know what the other looked like yet it didn't matter....why are you crying?

Writer!Yuu: (crying and frantically writing in journal)I'm not crying. It's the humidity. It's just so beautiful and wholesome for people as unexpected as you two.

[neptuneiris]

cardigan (epilogue) (1/2)

i knew you'd miss me once the thrill expired, and you'd be standin' in my front porch light.

pairing: modern!aemond × best friend reader!

summary: being in love with your best friend since high school becomes a strong and unavoidable feeling. until it starts to become more difficult when you get to college and the two of you, especially him, meet new people.

word count: 9.9K

previous part • next part

obviously i didn't expect this to be too long hahaha, even i was surprised, i didn't realize it was too much. so i decided to make the epilogue in two parts. thank u all so much por reading❤

Life in Highgarden could not have exceeded your expectations more.

At first you felt like you were supposed to when you came to live in a new city: terrified, anxious and nervous. You didn't want to feel lonely, but it was inevitable considering you know nothing and no one.

And when you arrive at your new dorm, you immediately loved it. Your room is bigger than the one at King's Landing and you have a beautiful view with lots of trees around and green grass.

Highgarden is well known for the fantastic flora and fauna. Everything is green, there are big trees and beautiful plants, there are even lakes and the weather ¡is perfect.

Yet you didn't have much time to get to know the city, because a week after you arrived, your classes started. And a week after you started your classes, you started your internship.

You met Arthur Winslow, the psychologist responsible of your internship, owner of a mental clinic for children, teenagers and adults.

He explained to you from the beginning that, once you were prepared, you would be present in cases of children and teenagers as well as adults to start your experience.

In addition, you would also support him in administrative things, such as his schedule, phone calls and so on. The pay is at a fair price, so it's perfect.

And as a result of Aileen and Sara not making it into the exchange program, you made new friends in your classes.

Although even if your friends had gotten in, Aileen would have chosen to go to Dorne and Sara to Winterfell, so you started talking to the people in your class.

They all came from different parts of the country, only a very few came from King's Landing and you didn't really talk to them much.

And after the first month passed, you just couldn't get any better.

You adjusted perfectly to your internship, to your classes which are wonderful and you also made good friends very quickly with whom you finally had that security to go around Highgarden almost in its entirety.

You went to many places, whether it was squares, parks, museums, lakes and even aquariums. Everything was so beautiful.

You took pictures, videos, made compilations with all your visits to upload to your Instagram, and even went out for fun on weekends to parties and bars with your friends.

You kept in touch with your friends at King's Landing and also let your parents know what you were doing by sending them pictures, videos and also talking to them on the phone.

Even Helaena messaged you by replying to one of your Instagram stories asking how you were doing and how you were doing at Highgarden.

Also her older brother messaged you, Aegon. He asked you how you were doing and also told you that he hasn't seen you in a while.

In truth with Aegon you did not speak much and fortunately neither of the two Targaryen brothers mentioned Aemond and for that you were grateful.

You were not thinking about him, not since you came to Highgarden and that is why you felt so at peace with yourself.

Despite being completely focused on your classes and internships more than anything else, you didn't lie to your friends that you had met and talked to a few guys.

You mostly met them at college parties, but nothing formal, it was all just hanging out.

You didn't have the mindset to really date, you didn't feel like you needed to and really a Highgarden guy didn't suit you if you were six months from now coming back to King's Landing.

You just had fun, experienced new things and officially started your psychology training.

And with the date getting closer and closer to return to King's Landing, you realized you didn't want to leave. Neither did Vhagar. At least not yet.

You grew attached very quickly to everything at Highgarden, even Vhagar with her walks in the parks and the view of the sunset when you took her for a stroll around the lake as well.

Everything was quiet and you felt at peace. However, you admit that you miss your friends and your life at King's Landing.

It's kind of a bittersweet taste to have to leave to go home. You definitely plan to come back because you've even grown quite fond of Dr. Winslow.

Until finally the date arrives and it's time to go back.

It was six months and yet it felt like it all happened in a matter of weeks. Yet you know you enjoyed every second at Highgarden and you don't feel like you wasted any time.

You immediately text your mom that you have landed at King's Landing and you also send a picture of your arrival to the group chat with Aileen, Sara and Ryan.

You call for an Uber and soon you find yourself arriving at the dorm with Vhagar in your arms.

The man driver helps you carry your bags up to your room, which you couldn't feel more grateful for, and as you enter that small space where you started your dependency, you feel nostalgic because you had missed it and happy because you are back.

And not long after you arrived, of course your friends would pay you an unannounced visit to welcome you back.

"You have to tell us everything.”

"And you have to show us the pictures you didn't upload to your Instagram."

"Did you meet cute guys?"

"How was your dorm?"

"How is the food?"

"We have to go to a party to celebrate."

You laugh as you notice the excitement in Aileen and Sara who are the ones asking all the questions while you and Ryan watch them with a small, amused smile.

And even though you didn't answer their questions, they still say they should get something to eat and drag you along with them to tell them everything.

Ryan takes them to a fast food restaurant in the middle of the university and soon the table is filled with fries, sodas, burgers, pizza and so on.

"You have to go one day, the program for the psychology internships are the best. The school is not that big, but the teachers are amazing, they even organize tours to many mental clinics of all kinds for all the students themselves. The only bad thing | could tell you about Highgarden is the food, it's not that good."

"Ugh no, dont tell me that,” says Aileen with a long-suffering face, "Don't make me change my mind about choosing Highgarden over Dorne if | get to go on exchange next year."

"But why would you want to go to a desert?” Ryan asks her confused, "Do you like to get your ass all sweaty?"

"Dorne is a place with incredible wonders and a lot of history, in case you didn't know,” she says seriously, "l've always wanted to see Sunspear."

"Just like any other place, genius. Besides, don't you know the temperatures reported in Dorne? It's like living in hell,” Ryan tells her incredulously. "l'm more supportive of Sara's idea to go to Winterfell where, if she's lucky, she'Il be able to go beyond the North and see the Wall. l'd rather do that than be dying of heat."

"So you'd rather be freezing to death?"

"Yes. A million times yes."

"And what about the parties?"

Sara asks you, picking up the subject and leaving aside for a moment Aileen and Ryan who continue arguing about Dorne and any other place in Westeros where according to Ryan it's better.

“They're not as noisy as here, but you still have a good time," you confess.

"Of course you have a good time,” Sara tells you mischievously, "All those guys you met seemed like they would really show you a good time."

You lower your gaze with a small embarrassed smile.

"It was just for the moment, that's all."

"And you didn't have any luck with any of them?"

You deny, looking at her again.

"I didn't want to. It wasn't...” You let out a sigh, "lt wasn't ideal."

"Oh come on, why not?” she asks incredulously, offended, "Didn't you get a good look at them? They were very handsome, Y/N. And they were just videos you sent us, I'm sure they were really hot in person."

You let out a small laugh, denying again.

"I didn't want to get attached to one of them, let alone start dating because | knew |'d be back here,” you confess, "And the whole long-distance relationships thing... it's not really my thing."

Sara grimaces and gives you a look of understanding at the same time.

"Well," she sighs, "At least you had fun with them."

"Not with all of them,” you clarify amused.

"But you did, so that counts."

After talking some more with Sara, since Aileen and Ryan are still busy debating... or rather fighting, you leave your part of the money for them to pay the bill while you go to the bathroom.

When you return, as you walk towards the table with your friends, a voice you know very well despite not having heard it in a while makes you stop as you hear your name called out.

"Y/N?"

And when you turn your head, a surprised Aegon Targaryen looks at you with a huge smile, standing with him is Helaena, apparently both of them having just arrived at the restaurant.

For an instant you panic at the thought that he's probably here too, but you're relieved to see that it's just the two of them.

"Is that you? Really?"

Aegon asks you amused, wasting no time in approaching you with Helaena following him and you also smile in his direction and shorten the distance between the two of you.

"It's been a long time since l've seen you too, Egg."

"Oh you little devil, you haven't forgotten how much | hate it when you call me that."

You both laugh and he wraps you in a tight hug that you reciprocate with the same affection, because even though Aemond was your best friend, you are still fond of all his brothers and nephews who have always been very good to you.

"Where have you been hiding? I haven't seen you for years."

He tells you incredulously, separating from you and you shrug your shoulders, already anticipating that you will talk about him. And even if you don't want to, you'll still have to.

"You know... here and there,” you say without much detail, shrugging your shoulders.

"Here and there where?" he asks you amused.

"Well... at school, with my friends and also at my exchange."

“But I dont see you around our house anymore, not even on birthdays, you didn't go to the ball either," he says almost in a sad tone, "You don't talk to my brother anymore, do you?" he asks a little more seriously, "Since the ball happened and he didn't take you, I knew something had happened. It seemed strange to me since you always went together every year."

You let out a long breath, lick your lips and nod, not wanting to give more importance to that matter that already happened many months ago.

"Yeah," you smile a little, affirming, "Yeah, since then."

"Forgive him,” Helaena stands between the two of you, with a smile and a sorry look, "l told him clearly that he won't ask you about him if he sees you when you come back, but his mental capacity is so low that the idiot doesn't understand."

You can't help but laugh at this, while Aegon at her side looks at her offended.

"l only wanted to corroborate what you told me,” he says innocently.

"Corroborate?" Helaena asks him.

"Yes," he says at once, still offendead, "I didn't believe you. At least not much. The two of them were inseparable and to suddenly not be friends anymore... it was like when | found out that Jack and Rose never existed and it was just a fictional story for the Titanic movie, I couldn't believe it and i felt cheated."

"Shut the fuck up."

Helaena says to him with a bad face and then turns to you with the smile and the softest and most pleasant look so characteristic of her.

"l'm so happy you're back. I didn't even know you were back, if i had known i would have texted you and we would have gone for a coffee."

"Thank you, Hel,” you smile softly at her, "And no, i didn't say anything about coming back and i honestly don't know why. I was so sad to leave but at the same time i was desperate to be back home."

"And what about Highgarden?" she asks you excitedly, "l've always been looking forward to going there. The nature there is just wonderful. There are lots of aquariums, isn't there?"

"Yes, yes, everything is amazing," you assure her, "Except the food. That's my only complaint. Everything is too... healthy"

"Oh yes, i knew that already," she says to you in understanding.

"And where do you live now that you don't live with my brother anymore?" Aegon asks interested, "Did you rent an apartment for yourself?"

"No, no, i live in a dorm now,” you clarify, "Because of the scholarship i got a big discount, and with the money i got paid for my internship at Highgarden, i have a chance to look for another job around here for a month."

"Oh, great,” he nods, listening to you attentively.

"A friend of mine who works at a boutique nearby recently told me they're looking for female employees. She works part time, maybe you have the same schedule if i pass you her number and she gives you more information."

Helaena tells you with such confidence that you're thankful that the first day you've been back to King's Landing, she's already saved you from looking for a job.

The flower shop where you worked before is already full of employees since your quitting, Sara told you since she went to ask to let you know before returning to King's Landing.

And now Helaena has helped you with that.

"That would help me a lot, Hel. Thank you so much."

"Oh, it's nothing,” she says nonchalantly taking her phone, "I'II tell my friend and then I'll pass you her number, don't worry."

After talking and keeping up with both of you for a few more minutes, your friends call you to leave and that's when the three of you say goodbye.

They both tell you if you want to keep them company, but since you've already eaten and you also have a mess in your room that needs to be cleaned up for your return, you agree to go out to dinner next week.

And just as you say, that's what happens once you're back in your dorm.

Vhagar greets you and keeps you company as you start to get all your clothes, shoes, make-up and all your stuff out of the suitcases. You also get something in and start arranging your few pieces of furniture in different ways in your space, wanting to try something new.

You put all your clothes in your closet, not wanting to leave anything for later, that takes some time, also to sweep and rearrange everything as you had it in your small bathroom.

You even fill a basket with clothes that need to be washed and go down to the laundry room, really not wanting to leave anything for later knowing that you have busy weeks ahead of you because of college and you want to get everything ready.

You wait for the clothes to be washed and also to dry, then go back to your room and continue organizing everything.

Until the sunset starts to show through your window and realizing that you are not missing anything anymore, you can finally lay down on your bed with Vhagar and rest.

You pick up your phone and begin to entertain yourself with Facebook, Instagram and Twitter, letting the time pass.

Vhagar settles in next to you and you get more comfortable to start watching Tiktoks, entertaining yourself for another good time.

You think to yourself that maybe later you'll go downstairs to buy something from the vending machine and watch a movie or maybe a series until you fall asleep, sounding like an awesome plan for you.

Then you finally get up, grab your most comfortable clothes and take a bath. It doesn't take you long and you dry your hair, then you feed Vhagar and take money to go buy food and watch the movie or series.

When suddenly there is a knock on your door.

You watch it in silence, thinking confused that you are not expecting anyone. And you have no idea who it could be. You didn't agree with your friends that they would come here later if you've already seen each other in the morning.

You check your messages to see if any of your friends told you they were coming to visit you unexpectedly, but nothing.

So you go to open the door thinking that it must be one of your friends and they decided not to tell you about coming over, but when you open your door you didn't expect it to be your ex-best friend, Aemond.

You freeze the moment you see him, definitely not expecting it.

As his gaze lights up when he sees you and the two of you are face to face after what felt like an eternity of the two of you not seeing each other.

You unconsciously take a step back, surprised and confused, your lips parted, as he watches you intently, almost with a hopeful look, maybe because he's afraid you'll slam the door in his face.

But you don't move from shock because you didn't expect it to be him and you didn't expect to see him so suddenly after so many months.

And he… hasn't changed.

You know it's only been months, there's not much difference, but it's the same appearance since the last time you saw him. His hair is still short to your surprise and his clothing style is the same.

What you do notice are the muscles on his arms are more pronounced and you also get the impression that he is a little taller.

While you… what can you say about yourself? Really nothing.

The only new thing you've done is to start trotting in the mornings, also your hair is short below your shoulders when before you had it down to your waist and you've put more earrings in both ears.

And neither of you say anything.

The two of you are simply inspecting each other after a long time without seeing each other, you mostly feeling just as confused to see him here.

You really don't understand how he is here. Or rather how he knew you were already back.

He certainly couldn't have known, you still have him blocked from all your social media networks.

Then….?

You ask yourself but the answer comes to you in a second.

Aegon.

You think in affirmative mode. And also probably Helaena because the three of you met at the restaurant. But you know it was Aegon who must have told him everything.

You don't doubt that maybe Hel wanted to kill him.

When after a few more seconds, the two of them not speaking and just watching each other, you finally react, instantly feeling nervous, without really knowing why.

Also that little remorse comes to your chest for everything that happened between you and what happened the last time you saw each other, remembering everything you told him crying.

You hug yourself and bite the inside of your cheek, also as he is looking at you, remembering his girlfriend, the ball and also your birthday.

When he speaks first.

"Hi."

He says to you letting out a sigh afterwards, stirring in front of you, keeping his hands in his jacket pockets, which are movements you know he does when he's nervous.

Also his look tells you he's a bit worried and anxious, but he still stands tall in front of you, his lilac eye watching you intently and having a slight gleam in it.

And his sapphire in your direction… it looks just as beautiful and stunning as ever.

"Hi."

You answer him with your tone of voice a little lower and feeling a little uncomfortable, puzzled, but you also stand firm in front of him, feeling nervous.

You certainly weren't prepared for when this moment happened and you know he wasn't either, yet here he is.

"W-what are you doing here?"

You ask trying not to let your voice sound shaky, holding back.

He swallows hard and looks away from you for a moment while he presses his lips together, to look at you again with those nerves and that certain hope.

"Actually… I wasn't too sure about coming here," he confesses with a soft look in his eyes, just like his voice, "Aegon told me you had returned to King's Landing and I wanted to see it myself."

At this, you lower your gaze for a moment and bite your lips. Yet… strangely… you don't feel upset.

"He told me by accident and got a good punch from Helaena," he adds and you look at him again.

You don't say anything for a few seconds, just look away from him, swallow hard and let out a long breath.

"Well, it's true, I'm back. If that's all, you can go now…

"Y/N..."

He calls out to you this time hopefully, interrupting you in a quick tone, not wanting to waste the opportunity and clearly not wanting this to be over any faster than he wants it to be.

It's the first time you've seen each other in months and in all these months a lot has happened and he just… wants to try.

It doesn't matter that you in the end don't want to, that you're still upset and don't want to see him, because he will understand and he will finally respect your decision, but he wants to try first.

He doesn't want to leave without trying.

"I know you probably don't want to, because I know you didn't expect to see me and maybe you even want to kick me out…"

He says lowering his gaze for a second, sighing, and then he looks at you again.

"But I want to risk myself," he tells you honestly, "and I'll understand if you say no, truly," he assures you, "I just want to talk to you and after this, if you still don't want me to bother you anymore, then I won't go near you again, I assure you."

He tells you and you remain paralyzed again for a few seconds, listening to him and watching him with your lips parted.

"And if you want me to leave now, I will. But I just want to try…" he lets out a long breath, gathering his courage, "So…. may I come in, please?"

He asks you softly, watching you just the same and almost expectantly, stirring continuously where he stands, knowing full well that he is as nervous as you are, while you have no idea what to do.

Your mind starts thinking fast, considering what you should and shouldn't do.

But the truth is that nothing comes to your mind. You just have a quick, unexpected debate on whether to let him into your room or not.

Vhagar behind you barks twice, watching Aemond very intently, while repeatedly wagging her tail back and forth excitedly and looking very playful.

While Aemond in front of you watches her with excitement and some hope, to again focus on you, ready to face the decision you will make, either yes or no.

And finally after what feels like an eternity, you know that rejecting him is probably the best option, but for some reason… you can't find the courage to do it.

And not because seeing him now in front of you and having heard his words has softened your heart, but because you realize that your heart doesn't hurt like it used to.

Maybe it was all the time you stayed apart and you healed in Highgarden, helped by the change of air, your lifestyle and the new people around you, unconsciously overcoming everything that happened between you, that you don't feel that pain anymore.

However… you do feel a weight. A weight on your shoulders and in your heart.

And it is because of that weight that after considering it in depth, with your soft gaze, you step aside and open the door wider, allowing him the entrance to your room.

Aemond would be lying if at that moment he didn't feel as if he had just received the news that he won the lottery, because surprise overcomes him and also relief.

And not wanting you to take it back, he enters your room, thanking you with his gaze in silence, while you control your nerves and close the door, facing this.

He in an instant is already in Vhagar who eagerly and seemingly happily enjoys being in his arms and licks his hands and cheeks, making him laugh and give her kisses, caressing her.

You can't help but smile a little at the scene, but you are just the same neutral and firm.

When he watches you over Vhagar, he leaves another kiss on her head and sets her back down on your bed, now looking as if he has no idea what to do.

He honestly didn't think it would go this far. He thought you'd slam the door in his face.

But you're both here. Face to face with each other. And certainly with a lot of things to say that you couldn't say to each other before.

"Hmm…" he says, stirring and glancing briefly at your room, "Did I interrupt you with something important?"

He asks and watches you intently, to which you deny, crossing your arms.

"No," you answer softly, "I was just planning to go buy something from the vending machine downstairs and watch something, a movie or a series."

"Oh," he nods, understanding, "well, if you want, I'll go," he offers, "you haven't eaten anything?"

"No. You?"

"I haven't either. But I can go and buy some dinner for both of us, only if you want. There are many restaurants near here."

"Well…

You stir uncomfortably.

"Only if you want."

"Yeah, no problem," he assures you.

And again he leaves you alone in your room saying he will be back soon, making you sigh and sit on your bed with an almost terrified expression… not expecting or understanding any of this.

The fact that he's gone to buy food helps you mentally prepare yourself for when he comes back, having no idea how they'll start talking about everything that happened.

You don't even know what he will tell you first, but you calm down and use the time he has given you to not feel nervous and terrified.

You take a deep breath, you say that everything will be fine, that this shouldn't be awkward… or at least not too awkward and that if both you and he start to feel like it's too much, you can both say so.

And of course you don't want any of this to lead to a fight. It wouldn't be wise and it's totally unnecessary.

When after a few minutes, Aemond returns with Chinese food, soda and fries from the vending machine.

He actually buys you some of your favorite chips and has also ordered you the Chinese food exactly the way you like it. At this you just thank him and both of you settle into your bed.

You put Vhagar down, give him some of her food and the two of you begin to eat.

At first it did feel a little awkward, but then, as you talk about the food being delicious and ask both of you to pass such things around, the mood begins to lighten and it's like going back to when you both lived together.

The two of them are comfortable, eating, talking about anything and watching a movie, although this time there is no movie.

And he is the first to start a conversation.

"How was Highgarden?" he observes you attentively, his gaze soft, interested.

"Incredible," you answer without hesitation.

He nods, as the two of you put more pieces of food in your mouths and then you take a sip from your bottle of soda.

"You told me that's where the best psychology internship programs are, right?"

"Yes," you affirm, "When I found out I got into the exchange program, it was the first place I applied."

"And you didn't have any problems?"

"No," you observe him softly, "Because of my good grades they didn't deny me anything, they gave me one of the first places in internships for Highgarden and everything was a very fast process. And when I got there and met the psychologist in charge of me and his clinic… it was just amazing."

"Yeah," he murmurs, "yeah, I can imagine. And I'm happy for you."

He tells you honestly, with a small smile that you return. A genuine smile from both of us.

"Thank you."

"And how did it all go? What was that you were doing? Did you get to know all of Highgarden too?"

And you tell him everything.

You tell him how your first weeks were, how was your dorm, the university, the new people you met, your internship, Dr. Arthur, what you had to do and you even told him about some very interesting cases.

You also told him about the places you met, showed him pictures and videos. You tell him that you went out partying on a few weekends, all the while he listens to you and watches you with great attention, looking genuinely interested, and asking you more questions.

Until you have nothing more to tell him about your six months at Highgarden.

"What about you? Haven't you started your internship yet?"

You ask him interestedly.

"Yes, since April," he says, "Obviously it wasn't difficult. I'm going to my father's company and I got some of my friends to do their internships there as well.

"Oh," you nod, understanding, "and what do you say?"

"What do I say?" he repeats, letting out a sigh, "well, it's not as interesting as what you told me," he says with a small smile, "It's all finance, paperwork, computer programs and so on. But that's what I like and I've been doing very well."

"Yes," you murmur, looking at a spot in your room, "But it's interesting," you tell him, "I've always thought you'd end up like one of the characters in Succession, someday running your father's important company as a rich and powerful man.

He smiles softly and then looks at you, to which you also smile in his direction.

"Am I right?" you ask him amused.

"In fact yes, you are absolutely right," he assures you in the same way.

There's no more food except for chips and soda, so he then starts talking to you more about his life and everything he's been doing lately besides college and his internship.

All while you both stare at an unimportant spot in your room, side by side, eating junk food.

And you listen to him with close attention, really interested in wanting to know what his life has been like now that you are no longer a part of it.

He tells you about how he has spent more time with his family, he tells you about Daeron, Rhaenyra, Daemon and even his cousins and nephews, Jace, Luke, Joffrey, Baela and Rhaena.

He tells you how they all spent a small part of the summer on Driftmark, an island near Dragonstone where his whole family also has a property right there, but which belongs to his aunt and uncle Rhaenys and Corlys.

You knew about Driftmark, but never in your years of friendship with Aemond did he invite you there because all his family always organized anything in his huge mansion here in King's Landing or in Dragonstone.

He also tells you about upcoming birthdays and everything his mother has planned.

And in everything he talks about, he doesn't mention Alys at all, maybe for fear that you might get upset or uncomfortable and want him to leave, because you don't dare ask him about her either.

You just let him talk to you about the first thing that comes to his mind, both of you comfortable in your bed and still eating junk food.

When Aemond seems to have told you everything and you both stay in a comfortable silence, almost shoulder to shoulder, both of you watching your little room and just letting time pass by.

And that's when Aemond watches you with his soft gaze, while you continue to eat fried food, staring into nothing. He swallows hard and lets out a long breath.

"I owe you an apology."

You freeze for a moment, still looking at everything around you but him, surprised by his words and beginning to understand where this is going.

Unable to help yourself, you look at him and he looks at you with a look that is both serious and gentle, looking honest, only to look away, maybe because of nerves, and continue talking.

"I was a very bad friend to you," he says in a murmur, "what I did to you is something unforgivable, I know, something you didn't deserve," he admits, "I don't expect you to forgive me Y/N, I'm not asking for that, I just want to talk to you and that you listen to me, that….

"I don't want to listen to your apologies only if you say them out of pity, Aemond," you interrupt him, serious.

"What? No, no, this is not for pity, Y/N," he assures you, honest and desperate to clarify, "I never felt pity for you and you know it."

"I don't know," you mutter, "After what happened, you made me doubt if our friendship was genuine or because you wanted and were my friend for pity," you confess.

"Y/N…" he tells you in a sigh, sad, denying, "since you left… since we stopped seeing and talking to each other… you don't know everything I wanted to tell you, everything I wanted to apologize for even if you didn't forgive me."

"Aemond…" you call him cautiously, "you can't apologize to me just to make me forgive you and your girlfriend too, you….

"I broke up with Alys."

He interrupts you with the most honest and quickest sentence he's ever said in all the time you've been together, making you freeze once more and stare at him with your lips parted.

And he watches you with the most honest look, wanting to clarify that point as much as possible and that there is no doubt, even feeling proud to say it.

"I broke up with her days after you left the apartment, and that was the last time we saw each other," he explains, in a low, honest tone.

But even after telling you that, you don't feel entirely confident. That's why you lower your gaze and swallow hard as you consider how strong his relationship was.

"But if you go back with her, I don't….

"No, Y/N," he says to you in denial, "I'm done with her for good," he assures you, "I didn't want to and I don't want to have anything to do with her anymore. I don't care anymore, she's nothing to me and never really was in all the time we were together."

You listen to him surprised, attentive, breathing a little faster than usual, not understanding, while he then starts to tell you everything.

Everything he wanted to tell you since your friendship started to fall apart and the moment it broke.

"Alys managed to get my attention a lot when we first met. She led me to believe on our first few dates that a relationship could be good, healthy and loving. But when we finally formalized everything, she started to show herself as the real person she is when she already had me," he explains, "And I naively gave her everything she asked for, even money, because I was obsessed with her and the way she made me feel. She made me feel so unique, so wanted and so special that I-I just…" he lets out a sigh, "I let her hold me in the palm of her hand."

He brings one of his hands to the nape of his neck, ruffling his short hair with his fingers, feeling strange telling you all this, but also feeling it as a necessity for you to listen and understand him.

And you really don't have any problem, you listen to him carefully and let him tell you everything he wants to tell you, still feeling a little sharp pain in your chest.

"She would even tell me things she didn't agree with or like, either about me or my family, making me feel bad and upset sometimes, but then she would turn them into just a point of view and convince me that I had misunderstood her, when I hadn't," he explains to you, "She told me that my mother was very controlling after she met her, that my siblings, even Helaena, seemed very weird to her, and that Daemon didn't seem like a good person."

You are surprised to hear that and pay more attention, while Aemond feels ashamed of himself for telling you this, but it is the truth.

"In that instant I should have put a stop to her, I know. But like the fucking idiot I am, I kept letting myself be easily manipulated by her, because she kept telling me it was just her first impression and her views," he says in a low, sorrowful whisper, "She just had a long conversation with my father without looking bored. I even noticed she changed her attitude and looked more… kind. But only with him."

He says in a bitter tone, while you understand what he's going on about.

"And of course, how could she not be nicer to him," he says with a smile and a bitter look, "With her about to graduate, she told him about that and also about her internship with the man who owns the most important company in the country. She talked about everything she knows and her skills, almost telling him her entire resume so he would hire her."

Now you let out a long breath, must have imagined it.

You thought Alys had really fallen in love with him. That's what you always thought until today when he gave you the news that he broke up with her months ago and that there was no love in the relationship.

You always thought that no girl could reject Aemond for his personality and his looks, that no one could reject him for being him, for knowing him and in an instant wanting to know more about him.

Because that's how you fell in love with him, you didn't fall in love because of what he had and what he could offer you professionally and economically.

But that was just what caught Alys' attention, not his personality and his heart.

"It also happened that when I would talk to her about my classes or an important project that I had worked hard on and got an excellent grade, she would say that it wasn't enough and that I needed to work harder to earn my father's company. She discredited everything I did, telling me that I had to do more so that someday I could be the boss and both of us could run the company, talking about those kinds of plans and almost assuring me that it would be like that," he says seriously and bitterly, "She insulted my friends, saying that they only cared about parties, that they were alcoholics and did not care about their studies, that they were useless and did not contribute anything to me now and would not do so in the future. She also said that I should have more serious and professional friends around me."

He lets out a long breath, really at that moment with you by your side realizing more how really bad his relationship was, the kind of very nasty girl he had by his side and how very blinded he was.

"The same thing happened with you," he says to you, saddened, "Clearly you know because you heard that conversation."

You bite your lips, remembering how bad she made you feel with her words. And so does he, corroborating with her.

"I owe you more than an apology for that, Y/N," he tells you honestly, "You were right, a best friend doesn't leave her best friend aside and that time I didn't even defend you. I should have stopped her, I should have put myself firm with her… but I didn't." he says apologetic, sad and disappointed, "and I'm very sorry for that."

Then you realize that you can't accept those apologies, because it really hurt you a lot to hear that conversation and that he didn't stand up for you because of the way you are and what you like to do.

If things had been the other way around, you would have defended Aemond with all your might, because he was your best friend.

"She was the reason why I started to leave you aside on weekends, why I gradually left you living alone and also why I didn't take care of Vhagar anymore, because she doesn't like dogs," he says seriously and sighs, "She was also the one who convinced me to take her to the ball and planned everything so I would forget your birthday," he confesses to you, saddened. "She deleted messages from you that morning, she confessed it to me when I confronted her when I realized that your birthday had already passed and that even weeks later she made me stay with her so I wouldn't see you. She also planned that stupid two hour dinner with her parents to delay me so I wouldn't notice and let the whole one night go by."

You bite your lips again, not watching him, feeling the urge to cry remembering that day, your birthday, because he also made you feel so bad during and still after by not getting any explanation from him.

And all because of her. But also for him, because he wouldn't put a stop to it.

"And yet I was still with her…" he says in a sigh, incredulous and disappointed in himself, "Like I said, she had me exactly the way she wanted me to be, and she would convince me otherwise when she didn't like something or made me behave differently than she wanted me to."

He shakes his head, feeling annoyed with himself for allowing it, for having fallen so low, letting himself be moved by her as she wanted, making him start to think that his friends were less important than her, his girlfriend.

That she was more important than Y/N, his best friend, who had always been there for him in very good and very difficult times, leaving her and throwing away their friendship of years for a relationship of months.

"She knew exactly what to do and what to say to make me stay," he murmurs, "But Alys never loved me and never really cared for me. She only cared about me out of interest and wanted to be with me out of the same interest, which was all she cared about."

"Did you love her?"

You dare to ask him without observing him, with a thread of voice, while Aemond at your side watches you for a few moments in silence and with his eye wide open in surprise.

I didn't expect you to ask him that, in fact I didn't expect any questions at all, but despite that, he knows the answer.

He knows it since the last time they both saw each other.

"No."

He respond in a low tone but completely serious and honest, while you dare to observe him surprised, but with an almost expressionless gaze and your lips parted.

"At first I came to have a certain affection for her … but only at first," he confesses, "Then it became that obsession with how she made me feel, but nothing else. I never came to love her and I am very relieved by that."

You take your eyes off him, closing your eyes for a moment, letting go of a long breath.

"And after I didn't see you again and I found out that you had gone on exchange… you don't know how that made me feel, Y/N," he swallows hard, "I had lost one of the most important people in my life. life for a fucking relationship and my own behavior. I wasn't thinking, I was an idiot. And I just wanted to scream and break everything for losing you… for not fixing it sooner."

An ugly and huge lump forms in your throat, observing an unimportant point in your room, your gaze lost and your eyes beginning to fill with tears.

You really didn't want to feel that way, you didn't want his words to soften you up, yet…they did.

But you hold back as much as you can, while Aemond next to you feels the same thing that you are feeling, but he doesn't dare to do anything about it, realizing your state, wanting to give you your space.

When you finally take a deep breath and talk to him even without looking at him.

“I missed you a lot too, Aemond. I missed you throughout your relationship with Alys and after I left to Highgarden. I missed you even when you didn't even deserve it."

You confess in a low and honest murmur, completely drawing his attention, you saying nothing else for a few seconds, swallowing the lump in your throat and completely holding back your tears.

While he listens to you and watches surprised, not expecting that, since he thought that all this time you had been hating him. He even thinks you hate him now.

And yes, if it was something like that, there was hatred, resentment, anger and courage for everything that happened, but even so, you also missed it very much.

You missed him, but you didn't forgive him.

"You also don't know how much I hate myself for ending our friendship, Y/N," he tells you in a sad and regretful whisper.

When you look back at him.

“I cannot forgive you, Aemond. Not yet."

And your words are like a dagger in the heart, a wound that, despite the fact that it hurts, accepts and respects it. He certainly didn't expect you to forgive him, but telling him that you had missed him, too, lit a small spark of hope in him. But it was not like that.

And he really respects it.

He doesn't want to make the same mistakes again, and so he does, feeling less weight on his shoulders, relieved that there aren't all those negative feelings between you anymore.

Nor does he expect that after this, everything will be back to the way it was before, because it won't.. He knows it's impossible. And if everything really ends between you both, then he will respect that too.

That's why he nods in your direction, both of you looking into each other's eyes, a understanding look and a small, soft, closed-mouthed smile on his lips, letting you know he's perfectly fine with that.

"Yes, i know," he assures you softly. “It's alright, I understand."

You nod gently in his direction, also placing a small gentle smile and both of you take your gazes away from each other and immersing in a comfortable silence.

Comfortable because finally neither of you feels that weight anymore and everything seems to be… fine.

Both of you have already said everything you wanted to say.

Or almost.

Because in the middle of that silence, Aemond starts thinking fast, having an indecisive debate in his mind, telling himself that enough has been enough, that everything is fine between you now and he doesn't want to ruin it.

But his heart tells him to do it, that there is still more.

While you by his side take your bottle of soda and take a sip, comfortable, this feeling good, but also knowing that this does not mean that the two will resume their friendship.

But for the moment… you enjoy it. You enjoy the moment.

And that's when he speaks again.

"After you left King's Landing…

He starts and you watch him, getting your attention.

"Helaena told me something," let out a long breath, "Something that made me finally realize my feelings and that made me have a little hope, even though you were already gone."

You are still watching him with attention, not having the slightest idea that it could be that what his sister told him, when Aemond looks up at you and looks into your eyes with his soft and honest gaze.

"She told me that you're in love with me."

Your hands become paralyzed first, you stop drinking soda and then your whole body is the one that is motionless, while you observe it with your lips between open, with your confused, attentive and nervous look at the same time.

You don't understand anything.

It's not like you told Helaena about it, in fact no one knows.

And it only makes you feel more nervous that Aemond is there, right next to you, acting completely normal about it, now that he already knows, continuing to observe you in the same way.

But you can't speak, you're still in shock, starting to feel like your pulse is racing too fast.

"She told me that you didn't tell her anything, that she just… knows," he says to you later, still in a soft tone, still making you panic.

You turn your gaze away from him, blink several times, starting to react from panic and nerves and hold your drink tightly.

"You should go."

It's all you say in a thread of voice, not daring to look him in the eye any more and you quickly get up from your bed, wanting to put as much distance as possible between the two of you.

You take Aemond by surprise, who stands up slightly, watching you worried, desperate and a little confused as you go to your door.

When his next words cause you to become paralyzed again, tensing up completely.

"I'm in love with you, too."

He says to you almost desperately, wanting to clarify as soon as possible, watching you attentively and cautiously, slowly getting out of bed to address you very carefully, not wanting to upset you more.

And he begins to explain to you with his soft tone, waiting for the moment so that he turns to you and can talk to you in the eyes, wanting you to see how very honest he is being with you.

"I don't know since when exactly, Y/N. It was probably before we graduated from high school," he lets you know, "That's why I asked you to live with me, because I certainly wouldn't have asked just anyone, and I-I… wanted to be close to you, almost all the time."

Your pulse continues to race, listening to his words carefully, feeling again the urge to cry, even without daring to look at him face to face.

"And all those dates, all those girls I went out with or flirted with at parties…" he sighs, "I told myself that I didn't get any further with them because it just hadn't worked out, when the truth is that I was fooling myself and it was me who didn't take them any further… because they weren't you."

He confesses to you and that's when you can't take it anymore and the first tears fall, starting to shake and with the realization starting to become clear to you as you hear it.

"And I wanted to repress my feelings for you with them, I wanted to fall in love with someone because I didn't want to ruin our friendship, Y/N," he tells you honestly, "And I know it sounds stupid and it's probably tired of hearing it already… but it's the truth. You don't know how much I was terrified of losing you, of losing our friendship because of feelings that weren't reciprocated… or that I thought weren't reciprocated."

Then slowly, Aemond, dares to raise his hand and gently touch your arm, turning you towards him very carefully and tactfully, needing to see you and needing you to see him.

And you let him.

Shaking, but you let him.

And his heart breaks the moment he sees you, with your sad, surprised face, your teary eyes and red cheeks, watching him as if he can't believe it.

"I wish I had known, Y/N," he says softly, watching you with all the love and gentleness in the world, "Because then Alys came, a girl with a personality I hadn't met before, pretending to be a good person and she made me distract myself from you by falling into her games."

You bite your lips, holding back the tears as much as you can, while he continues talking to you and explaining with all the sincerity in the world.

"And I know I was very selfish with all those girls and also with you when I saw you with that guy at that party, having a good time and having fun without me," he confesses with regret, "You don't know how upset I was and how terribly jealous I felt, Y/N. That was when I thought I had lost you for good and I hated myself not only for having ended our friendship, but also for never having confessed my feelings to you and realizing too late… what I lost for a person who wasn't worth it."

He lets out a long breath, biting the inside of his cheek and watching you with all the sincerity, love and affection as he says his next words.

"I love you, Y/N. I have always loved you. Just in the same way you love me…. or loved me," he corrects with a soft sad tone, "I was just too much of a coward to tell you and I didn't give you a chance to tell me either by going out and pretending with all those girls," he lowers his gaze, "I'm sorry."

Then, it's like you're living in a dream.

You don't know if it's real or not.

But you know it's real because of his touch on your arm and the closeness between the two of you, with him looking at you like that, being so terribly honest that it scares you.

It scares you because this is just what you wanted to hear.

This is everything you wanted to hear from him towards you, being just another one of your most pathetic and impossible dreams. But here you are. He has told you.

And that's exactly why you can't control it anymore and right there, in front of him, you lose it completely and the first sob escapes your lips, just as your tears are rushing down your cheeks.

You cover your face completely ashamed, crying, only you don't know if it's from happiness or sadness… or probably both.

But you know you cry because this is what you have been longing to hear for a very long time and you cry wondering why now, why now that things between you are no longer bad but not quite right either.

But mostly you cry because you feel confused.

Since you left King's Landing, one of your purposes was to leave him behind and forget, to undo those feelings for him. But you couldn't.

You still love him.

You love your best friend just the same way he loves you too, being something that was going on for a long time, simultaneously, but without both of you knowing it.

And you feel confused because you don't know if you should finally take this thing you've always wanted, you don't know because of everything that happened, even though he has already explained and apologized to you.

But you don't feel totally confident because he really hurt you so much.

And you don't know if what happened, will happen again and that's just what you don't want. You don't want him to hurt you again.

And Aemond, surprised by your behavior, yet he understands you and doesn't judge you.

That's why he wastes no time and pulls you into a gentle, firm and comforting embrace, letting himself be carried away by his feelings as well.

And you don't push him away. You let him hold you and lock you in his arms, just like you loved him to do when you lived together or saw each other during the day because his hugs have always comforted you and made you feel safe.

And that's also where you can let out your feelings.

He starts to comfort you too with soft words in your ear, stroking your hair with his hand, telling you that it's okay, that everything is fine, that this shouldn't change anything either, that you are the one who has the last word about the two of you.

As he continues to apologize for everything in soft murmurs, holding you tightly against him, not letting you go until you are well.

Until little by little, your sobs begin to decrease and you begin to calm down, sniffling your nose and still hugging him, taking all the time you need until your whole roller coaster of emotions stops.

Aemond doesn't let go, but does so slowly as you begin to stir, watching you intently and worriedly.

You bring your hands to your cheeks, wiping away your tears and sniffling your nose, to which he quickly runs his thumbs over your cheeks as well, still watching you with all that tenderness, that understanding and that affection.

"Are you all right, my pretty one? Do you need anything?"

You deny, again embarrassed, but at least feeling better and less emotional.

"N-no. I'm just… sorry, it wasn't m-my inte…

"Shh, no, it's okay," he interrupts you softly, "it's okay. This was my fault, I never meant to make you react like this. I should have been more careful with you."

"It wasn't that, Aemond," you confess, sniffling once more, "You took me by surprise, that's all. And I-I c-couldn't control myself, i-it was too much."

"Yes, I know, I know, pretty one. It's all right, everything's all right."

And again he pulls you into a soft, comforting embrace that you allow, now no longer feeling like those earlier hugs where before between the two of you there was the word friendship.

Now it's something more… something more intimate and more… honest.

And that's because both of you finally know each other's true feelings.

But still… after this, what you need is time. And that's exactly what you're asking for.

i couldn't tag many of you and I apologize if you asked me to tag you and I didn't, I could have missed your user but thank u so much for reading 😢❤

tag list:

@winxschester @namoreno @fan-goddess @lauftivy @bellameshipper @iloveallmyboys @barnes70stark @amazingnerd @yentroucnagol @helaenaluvr @almostpurplelady @lilitheal @targaryenmoony @dangerousstateofmind @summerposie

[proposalanonaita]

FINE.

The date is fast approaching (seven and a half weeks left), I've had sufficient quantities of Malbec, and I'm realizing that whoever suggested that writing my vows would be MUCH more harrowing than talking about my feelings to internet nobodies.....had a fair point; I should at least attempt to put it all to words before I write the real drafts.

Ugh.

I should probably start by stating that I'm WELL aware of who I am. Rest assured, I know that I'm stunningly abrasive. And controlling. And petty, conniving, misanthropic, or whatever other adjectives you've been calling me in the tags (yes, I DID read those, and it IS weird of so many of you to be calling for my divorce. I thought you were supposed to be nicer than I am?).

All this to say, I've always been cognizant of being an acquired taste. Partly because I've always BEEN an acquired taste. I tone it down in public, and in most of my personal relationships, but I am, down to my core, a Mean Mother Fucker.

With partners before my fiancé, I had to make myself more palatable to stay together. The men I dated were FAR too nice, and snipping with them at all felt like I was a heavyweight champion facing off against a toddler. So I reigned it in. It worked, but no matter how well things were going on paper, I didn't feel like I was myself with any of them.

I was even less myself with The Shithead. I'm NOT getting into the entirety of that particular tire fire here, you little freaks already know FAR too much about me and I won't have you tagging the gory details of the worst part of my life with #bob the builder/fuzzy wuzzy or whatever you're into.

He was horrible to me, I turned dangerously timid, I'm lucky I had enough Mean left in me to get the fuck out. He's changed enough by now that I considered inviting him to the wedding, it was bad enough back then I'm very glad I didn't. Enough said.

...I'm talking quite a bit up here because I still hate having to say any of the next part. Call me an emotionless villain for that if you want to, I am far too employed and 30 to care very much.

Ugh, ugh, ugh.

So.

The thing is, there are people that KNOW me, and there are people who LIKE me. My parents know me, and I've never doubted they love me, but that's not LIKING me as a person. That's a contractual obligation of birthing me. My friends like me, some even like me when I'm catty, but I need to be careful to hold myself back, at the risk of losing them. At best, people loved "me", not ME.

For decades, this was just the way the world was. It was a fact of life- The sky is blue, I'm secretly unlovable, the Earth goes around the sun.

And then, against all odds, I found my fiancé, who manages to do both.

He sees ALL of me. Every square inch, every fleeting thought, every horrible little quirk of my rotten personality. And THEN, as if that weren't bad enough, he turns around and ENJOYS it all. He's not just tolerant of my least palatable traits, he's delighted. The more I show him, the more he likes.

It's awful. I'd say he stole my heart, but that sounds too pleasant. It's more like my heart is a cockroach he could squish at any moment, and I trust him not to, and I'm just supposed to wake up every morning and do the dishes and go to work as if this doesn't mean we're clearly orbiting Saturn. The sky is PURPLE now. What the fuck.

He could at least do me the favor of being completely, 100% perfect, because then I could blame his total lapse in judgement on that, but NO. He's a BASTARD.

I'm engaged to a big sweaty idiot who annoys me on purpose. He's terrible with his money. He tries to take me on HIKES, and JOGS, and CAMPING TRIPS. His taste in every single art form known to man is GARBAGE, he's constantly leaving his dirty socks on the floor, and he's such a bad driver I'm amazed he still has a license.

I've told him all of that to his face, and I've MEANT it, and he's just called me a bitch and asked me what I want for dinner. He knows that I'm unlovable, agrees that all those parts of me are in here, and then loves me anyway.

He loves me. He LOVES me. He loves ME.

I don't know what I'm meant to do with it all, but there's clearly SOMETHING wrong with his brain, so I guess I'll have to keep him, if only for his sake.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Making Arrangements Part One

Masterlist | Part Two

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only. Any minors interacting will be blocked.

Length: 6.1K

Notes: It's a two-shot! Part two will have explicit content.

No beta, we die like Billy Kimber

Warnings: Arranged marriage; mentions of prostitution; canon-typical attitudes toward sex; slow burn; enemies to allies to lovers; Reader has a brother and an aunt; no physical descriptions of non-canon characters; Reader gets drunk

Summary: If you’d been involved with anyone, if there’d ever been a hint or a whisper of a beau recently, you might’ve been able to plead differently for your future. 

But you knew as well as your family that this was your best move, and with no great love waiting in the wings, there was nothing to be done but to marry the man. You secured your interests, the interests of your family. You gained a powerful ally—but you also gained powerful enemies. 

“D’you think you could bother to give them a smile?” 

On the face of it, it seemed a fair question, but all things considered, it made you want to punch Thomas Michael Shelby squarely in the jaw. You didn’t, of course—that conduct would be unbecoming of a bride in front of her new family. 

You’d been getting knowing looks from the women all night—pursed lips from Ada and Polly, and a wide smile from Esme. It was almost wolf-like, the way she watched you—welcome to the pack. 

“I could,” You conceded, nodding, casting your gaze around the party. The revels had only just begun. It was early enough that nearly everyone was coherent, on their feet, but you knew that in just a couple of hours, the party would likely turn to shit. These people would be drunk, coked out of their minds, dancing, and flirting…Probably fucking. You had no doubt that you would be expected to do your wifely chore that evening. 

Maybe that was why a permanent frown had been fixed on your lips from the time you’d put on your wedding dress, as you’d walked down the aisle, all the way through the fucking I Dos. 

“You’re still frowning.” 

You didn’t bother to hide your eye roll before you turned your head fully to look at him. He didn’t give you the same courtesy. He watched the revelers with the same bored speculation as you’d given them just moments ago. 

“And this is what your fucking grin looks like?” You snipped. He raised his cigarette to his lips, drawing in a deep drag that sank his cheeks. He managed to cast you a knowing glance, his brow raising. 

“It’s the most that you’ll get of me tonight.” 

“And of me. Don’t ask me to stoop to something that you won’t bother with. I’m your wife now. At least pretend to respect me in front of them,” You insisted, nodding toward the others. It took him a moment, but Tommy nodded. 

“And behind closed doors?” He asked. 

“That’ll be none of their concern. And you’ll have to take it up with me later.” 

“I intend to.” 

--  

You sat on the edge of the bed, and watched. All Tommy did was light up another damn cigarette. You weren’t sure if you married a man or a chimney. 

You could hardly believe that you had married the man at all. 

Your family had never been a big player in Birmingham, or Camden. You’d kept your head down, stayed out of the way, operated cleanly. When the Shelbys had come to you with a proposition, it hadn’t been for your minor operations in the UK—it had been for your connections in America. They were looking to expand, offered you a good deal, and a union between the two households. 

When it had first been brought to your attention, you’d thought that it was a pretty good idea. But when it came down the line that Thomas Shelby had specified an interest in marrying you, well—the thought had become less and less appealing. If you’d cared less for your family, or known less about the mounting tensions that they were facing overseas, you would’ve laughed the idea off. If you’d been involved with anyone, if there’d ever been a hint or a whisper of a beau recently, you might’ve been able to plead differently for your future. 

But you knew as well as your family that this was your best move, and with no great love waiting in the wings, there was nothing to be done but to marry the man. 

You secured your interests, the interests of your family. You gained a powerful ally—but you also gained powerful enemies. 

Tommy had spoken to you only once before your wedding day. The meeting had been brief, and he’d done all of the talking. He’d promised to protect you, sworn to never raise a hand against you. 

“You know as well as I do,” He’d insisted, “That this is the best way forward for our families. And I know,” He’d leaned in a touch, “That you want what’s best for your people.” He’d reached into his pocket and drawn out a small velvet box, setting it on the table before he stood, straightening his waistcoat. 

“You have until tomorrow night. I need an answer.” 

You’d sent him your reply—a single slip of paper sent with your brother Lewis that simply read: Yes 

“...It was a nice party,” You offered now, unable to stand the silence any longer. 

“You didn’t seem to particularly enjoy it.” 

“No one left with a bullet wound. In my family, we consider that a successful bash.” 

Tommy’s lips quirked just a touch as he nodded. 

“Our brothers seemed to get on,” You hedged, desperate to draw this out. You worried that once you stopped speaking, he may…Want to consummate the marriage. You weren’t sure how you felt about that. You’d heard rumors, whispers that Tommy was a good lover, but you weren’t sure that you were ready to find that out yourself. 

“They did,” Tommy nodded again. “Lewis and John already seem thick as thieves.” 

“Yes.” 

The two of you fell into quiet again, and it was a harrowing few moments before Tommy pushed himself off of the dresser. Your hands dropped instinctively to the bed, grasping at the sheets—but Tommy turned and went for the door. 

“G’night, then.” 

Your brow furrowed as you glanced around. Goodnight? But—

“Where will you sleep?” 

Tommy stopped in the open doorway, nodding behind himself. “I’ve a room down the hall.” He turned away, adding, “Shout if you need something.” 

You hesitated a few moments longer before you sprung up, darting forward and shoving the door closed before locking it. You drew in a deep breath, closing your eyes and letting your forehead rest against the dark, cool wood grain. 

He didn’t take. 

You had gone into the room expecting shoving hands and a quick coupling, but Tommy kept his distance. You weren’t sure if you were more relieved or insulted. You turned away from the door, leaning back against it and peering around your dim new living quarters. 

Relieved, you decided. 

--  

Insulted, you decided. 

Tommy had the gall to lean in and peck your cheek when he’d come down to breakfast that morning. 

It took everything in you not to shove him away.

Polly made no comment on how wane you looked the next morning, nor did Ada or Esme cast you knowing grins or teases. They all watched Tommy, and the little slip of a shadow that you’d met last night—a birch-pale, dark-haired woman named Lizzie. 

You didn’t think that the news had made it back to your family—the fact that your husband had just spent his first night as a newly-married man with a prostitute-turned-secretary while you slept alone in an unfamiliar room wearing the lacy nightie that you’d bought specifically for your honeymoon. 

Esme and Ada excused themselves as quickly as they could, but Polly lingered, and offered,

“He’s a prickly sort, and these things take time. Men have their needs and urges.”

“...Right,” You pronounced crisply as you stirred some sugar into your tea, “And I’m a novice in a nunnery.” 

--  

“You should’a seen the girls at the party last night,” Lewis groaned.

For all of your irritation during the last few days, you’d been happy, truly happy to see your family enjoying themselves. Carving out your space in the literary scene of London and running a few underground print shops wasn’t exactly a serene existence. You constantly had to move operations, vet workers, stop-up leaks in production cycles and deal with snitches. Your entire family was dedicated to the business, but your brother was the most determined of the lot. Lewis had become the man of the house at a young age, after your father had been hauled into prison for treason. 

So to see him let loose a little—well, more than a little, truth be told—was a heartening sight. 

“I don’t think I would’ve quite enjoyed them the way you did,” You raised a brow, smile widening as he ducked his head bashfully, “But I’m glad you had a good time.” 

“And you?”

The pointed question came from just behind you. You didn’t dare turn to look at your Aunt Pearl. She knew you far too well. You could hide your feelings and concerns well enough from Lew—you had plenty of practice. But Pearl had been a motherly figure, a guiding hand in what would’ve been an otherwise rudderless life. She learned to read you like an open book when you were young, and you had been powerless to change the way that she understood you, even as the seasons of your life had passed. 

You turned your head back toward her just a touch, biting the inside of your cheek as you waited for her to go on. It was a few moments of quiet before she urged: “Lewis, go get some air.” 

You drew a deep breath in through your nose, fighting to steady yourself, and giving Lewis an encouraging smile and nod before he stood, pushing away from the kitchen table and heading outside. You saw him tipping his head back toward you, trying to catch on the line of questions that Pearl was about to level—as if neither of you knew any better to wait until he was fully out of earshot. 

“Who’s Lizzie?” She finally asked. You weren’t sure how to answer at first. You scrubbed your hand over the back of your neck, making sure that you heard the door shutting behind Lewis. 

“It’s just…Growing pains,” You finally offered, gaze set stalwartly on the table. “Every couple has them.” 

“Where was he last night?” 

“How should I know?” “He’s your husband. You’re supposed to know.” 

You didn’t have a chance to argue before she strode closer, her hand resting on your shoulder. You didn’t flinch, or draw away. You were used to her hand on your shoulder, her nails digging into your skin. She didn’t dig her nails in just now—she merely rested and waited. 

“Growing pains,” You finally offered again as you looked straight ahead. It was as if Polly had her hand on your other shoulder, and was staring you down in warning. 

“Pains?” Pearl repeated. “Physical?” 

You don’t want to answer, but—

“Emotional,” You blurted. It was another moment of quiet before she hummed. You stopped yourself from turning to look at Pearl—to catch the no doubt heavy judgment in her dark eyes, and the twist of displeasure to her small mouth. 

“I see.” 

“It’s early,” You insisted. She hummed again, stepping around you to walk toward the window. It didn’t take much to glance over, to see where Lewis was playfully fighting with John and Finn. 

“Do they know?” Pearl asked. 

“About where he was?” You shook your head. “I’m sure his brothers do.” 

“And?” 

“And what?” You scoffed. “It’s no business of theirs. Our marriage is between myself and Thomas.” 

Pearl turned to face you with a crisp smoothness, her eyes narrowed as she cocked a hip.

“And that’s all you have to say about it?” She asked. You pursed your lips. You had plenty to say about it, but it would land on deaf ears. Any of Pearl’s meddling would spell trouble, and you weren’t about to sic the dogs less than twenty-four hours into wedded bliss. 

“Yes,” You nodded firmly. Pearl’s eyes narrowed further before she hummed, turning back toward the window. 

“...This is good for us, Pearl,” You reminded her. “The Shelby’s are strong, they know what they’re doing. I just have to hold up my end.” 

“And what end is that?” 

“That of a doting wife.” 

“And mother?” 

Doubtful. Thomas couldn’t even be bothered to touch you as it was. But it was early, you reminded yourself. Things could still change. Things would change. They had to. 

“Perhaps,” You leveled evenly. “Someday. Time will tell.” 

“Time,” Peal repeated, nodding as she rounded you. “Well, if we’re going on time, so far, you’re not managing it particularly well.” 

You slid down in your seat a little as Pearl finally left the dining room. Your interest in the day’s paper had been sapped; your tea had gone cold. You didn’t want anything to do with Thomas Shelby, or with his family, not anymore. If you were going to make it through at least one year of marriage, you needed to nip this in the bud. 

-- 

“I need to talk to you.” 

Tommy didn’t so much as glance at you, his gaze trained steadily on a horse. You waited a moment, shifting from foot to foot, but perhaps you shouldn’t have waited. You’d spent nearly two weeks waiting. Maybe he hadn't heard you? You stepped a little closer and raised a hand to touch him. You couldn’t bring yourself to make contact, and your hand curled in on itself just before it could brush his waistcoat. 

“Thomas?” You pressed. 

“I’m busy.” 

“When can we speak, then?” 

“Tonight.” 

Certain that he meant it earnestly, you turned away and left.

But the evening came and went, and you found yourself sitting alone, stewing in front of your uneaten dinner and eyeing his empty plate. The house was too quiet, and your thoughts were far too loud. You needed to clear your buzzing head—you wanted a drink, and some fun. 

-- 

“You can’t let them push you around.”

The warning was spoken knowingly. You knew that she was right, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet Esme’s eye. Her gaze was so heavy, so all-knowing—nothing like the bright, uninterested gaze that Thomas often offered you. But Esme was having none of it. She dipped her head into your field of vision and clapped her hand over yours where it rested on the table beside your drink. You shook her hand away lightly, reaching for your drink instead. Maybe coming to the office to nip out of the bottle Polly kept in her desk had been a bad idea. But you couldn’t bring yourself to just sit in that house and rot in your anger. 

“No one is pushing me anywhere,” You grumbled.

Esme let out a soft, cruel chuckle. 

“I know what it is,” She insisted, “To come into this family and feel on the outside, feel that you don’t have a voice. Becomin’ a Shelby doesn’t erase who you were before.” She reached out again, taking up your drink and drawing in a deep pull before you could argue. As annoyed as you were, you knew that she was right. You nodded slowly, topping the glass up when she set it back down. 

“...Should I not bother replacing Polly’s alcohol, then?” 

Esme’s smile grew as yours did, and the two descended into quiet giggles. 

-- 

“We need to talk.” 

It was steely when it left you this time. Despite that, Thomas still paid you no mind. In fact, he went out of his way to take his time drawing on his cigarette before fishing into his waistcoat. He pointedly drew out his pocket watch, flipping it open and eyeing the time. The tick tick tick of the second hand passed for several long moments before he flipped it shut again, lifting his gaze to the hustle and bustle of the office around him. 

“Later,” He offered. 

Later, always later. Weeks of later, of hearing Lizzie’s footsteps and the creaking across the floor as she left the house before you were up and about for the morning. Weeks of sitting alone in that empty house, putting on a brave face for Pearl and Lewis. Weeks of anger and shame eating through your gut. 

“Now,” You spat.

He turned his head toward you, brows ticking up. You could feel the pace of the others in the shop around you slow just a bit, and speeding up again as Thomas shot them a glance.

“Alright,” He murmured, resting his hand on your lower back. You let him steer you toward his office, resolute in your irritation. He opened the door for you, waving you inside and shutting the door behind the two of you. 

“What is so urgent that you pulled me away from my work?” 

“Your work of watching other people count your money?” You quipped in irritation. 

“...What is it that you want to discuss.” 

“You need to keep your whoring private.” 

Thomas’s brows jumped with intrigue, his chin tipping down toward you.

“Explain.” 

“I understand that we went into this with our eyes open and a mutual understanding that the actions that we were taking were for the good of our families, but to the rest of the world, we are husband and wife. I will not ask you to stop your carrying on, as I can't imagine that you’d abide by it if I did, but keep it private. I will not step out on you publicly, and I expect to be given that same respect.” 

Thomas blinked before he straightened, pushing away from the door and stubbing out his cigarette in an ashtray on the desk. He muttered something that you couldn’t hear, and you frowned. 

“Pardon me?” 

“Publicly,” He repeated firmly. “You said that you wouldn’t step out on me publicly.” 

“I did,” You nodded. 

“Do I get to know the lucky man’s name?”

Your face went hot with indignation. Was he trying to embarrass you? Whether he was or not, it was working. You folded your arms across your chest. 

“You’re missing my point.” 

“I take your point. You want me to treat you as my partner, and as my wife, you have that right.” 

“And will you?” 

“You can trust me to be discreet.” 

“I don’t trust you to do anything.” 

Thomas’ expression closed off, his eyes narrowing a touch, and your stomach twisted with nerves. 

“And might I ask why.” 

“What have you done to earn it? In our, what, two weeks of marriage, I have hardly seen you. You’ve made no point to acquaint me with your family or your business, and you’ve spent your nights down the hall with another woman. I’m not your wife, I’m a boarder.” 

Thomas considered for a moment before he gave a short nod. 

“I understand. I will make changes.” “Thomas—” 

“I will.” 

You pursed your lips together, pushing a sigh out through your nose before you gave a small nod of concession. 

“Alright.” 

“Anything else?” 

“...No.” And, just to seal the deal, “Thank you for your time. And for listening.” 

Thomas nodded, straightening up and opening the door for you. You strode toward it, and were nearly through before he rested a hand on your shoulder. You went still, turning your head toward him just a touch. Before you could get a good look at him, Thomas leaned in, brushing a kiss to your cheek. It was the most that he’d touched you since he’d kissed you the morning after your wedding. You thought that he may be making a show of affection for the office, but Thomas turned his head, brushing his lips against your ear.

“If I ever find out that another man has touched you,” He murmured, “I’ll take off the bastard’s hands and give them to you as an anniversary present.” 

You balked, shock wracking your chest as he placed a final kiss to your temple before he gave your ass a pat, spurring you into action and sending your scurrying back into the office, and out of his reach. 

--  

“It’ll be nice for you to fix up the place and make it your own,” Polly commented. 

“She was always going to get around to it of course,” Pearl insisted. You didn’t dare look away from the row of dressers. The one that you had in your bedroom was fine, but it was a bit small. You’d ordered several new pieces of clothing on Tommy’s account—well, on your joint account. Giving the name Mrs. Shelby had incited stunned, wide eyes from the shop keeper’s assistant and prompted fawning and a healthy discount. 

Still, as much as you were trying to bring your families together, you realized belatedly that in this case, it was an awful idea. Polly and Pearl had taken every opportunity to take digs at one another, leveling backhanded compliments with smug smiles and drags of their respective cigarettes. The two of them were so painfully similar, and perhaps that was why they seemed to hate one another so much. 

“Of course,” Polly echoed placidly.

“I want this one,” You pointed to the one in front of you.

“I’ll find the assistant,” Polly offered, brushing past you. You sighed heavily, shaking your head. 

“Please pull it together,” You muttered.

“I’ve nothing to pull together,” Pearl pronounced.

“Please,” You bit out again. “I can’t make any of this work if you and the others don’t, either.” 

You heard a deep sigh, chased by the tapping of her cigarette ash beside you. 

“I will be myself.” 

“I don’t need you to be yourself, Pearl. I need you to be pleasant.” 

A little knot of tension unwound as Pearl chuckled. 

“Becoming a missus really has given you fangs.” 

“I’d rather not use them, if possible.” 

“I understand.” 

“Thank you.” 

“...Are you going to give Miss Sourpuss the same talking-to when she gets back?” 

“Lord above.” 

--  

“You look like you’ve had a marvelous time.” 

Bringing Pearl and Polly to a somewhat peaceful place had been shock enough for that evening, but this took the absolute biscuit.

You might’ve yelped in fear at the sound of his voice if you hadn’t spotted the burning cigarette in the ashtray mere seconds before he spoke. As it was, you didn’t answer right away. You plastered yourself against the backdoor, your hands curled around your key and your purse. Thomas just arched a brow, expectant and silent. He wasn’t supposed to be there. You’d been told that he had business, and you had figured that once that had concluded, he would take care of other…Matters. You'd thought you’d have the house to yourself and have a nice cuppa before going to bed. 

You finally managed to push yourself forward, away from the door, your face hot with drink and embarrassment. 

“I didn’t think you’d be in,” You admitted. 

“You didn’t think I would be spending the evening in my own house?” 

“Esme told me there was a family meeting. She said that they can run late.” 

“You were misinformed.” 

“Clearly.” 

You watched Thomas warily as he drifted closer, going tense as he stepped around behind you. You hardly dared breathe for a moment, then let it out as you felt him slide your coat from your shoulders. 

“Thank you,” You mumbled as he stepped away with it.

“Were you with Esme?” He asked, tossing your coat over the back of a chair. 

“Mhm,” You nodded, taking a few steps deeper into the kitchen. “And Ada, Polly…And Pearl.” 

“Where were you?” 

“Polly’s house.” 

“Mm.” 

You watched Tommy round the counter, taking up a clean glass and a bottle of whiskey. You nodded, stepping closer. “Please.” 

He poured a good amount before setting the glass on the table. You sat down, watching him do the same. The light in the kitchen was low, casting an orange glow about the room. You felt almost like you were being interrogated as Tommy tucked his cigarette between his lips for another drag. You took your drink up in turn, giving your hands something to do. Besides, finding your husband at home had harshly staunched your blissfully tipsy mood, and you were desperate to get it back. Tommy made no comment as you took a deep swig, and you fought away a wince at the taste and burned as you gulped it down greedily. 

“How was the meeting?” You asked.

“Fine…Would you like to know what it’s about?” 

“If you’d like to tell me.” 

You figured he would let it go there, but he gave a short nod, offering: “We’ve reached a trade agreement with your man in New York.” 

“I’m glad to hear it.” 

“Lewis can fill you in on the particulars later.” 

Your brows jumped. “Lewis was there?” 

“The business concerned him, I made sure he was in attendance.” 

“I’m sure he appreciated it.” 

He hummed, leaning back in his seat. You took another deep swig from your glass, but you couldn’t bring yourself to draw your gaze away from Tommy’s. He seemed so relaxed—though, maybe it was absurd to find a man relaxed simply because he had removed his suit jacket. Still, he looked irritatingly dashing in his waistcoat. 

“Tell me about yourself,” He ordered as you lowered your glass to the table. You cleared your throat, shaking your swimming head to try and clear that, too.

“Pardon me?” 

“Well,” Tommy plucked up the bottle again, topping your glass up. “As you have reminded me, you are my wife. I ought to know something about you.” 

“...Are you drunk?”

His lips quirked with a small smile. “No. But if you keep on like that, you will be.”

“I’ll be fine.” 

“If you say so.” 

“I do say so, thank you.”

“I have to be drunk to want to learn about my wife?”

My wife. It made you feel oddly warm as he said it…Though perhaps that was the whiskey. 

“We didn’t exactly have the most conventional courtship, or wedding,” You reminded him.  

“All the more reason for me to learn about you now.” 

“I don’t know where to start.” 

“How about with the things you like.” 

“I will tell you,” You nod slowly, “But only if you tell me about yourself in turn.” 

Thomas seemed to purse his lips before he sat up in his seat. He held his hand out, the gold of his wedding ring glinting in the light. 

“You have a deal.” 

You hesitated for a few moments, certain that he was putting you on. But when he didn’t draw it back, you raised your hand in turn, grasping his and giving it a shake. 

--  

The first hint of light made you wince and turn away. Your mouth was obscenely dry; your head was pounding harshly. You groaned, rolling away from the window. Oh…You did not feel good. Your head felt like it was going to burst; your stomach rolled like you were taking a rocky transatlantic crossing. Oh, god…Were you going to be sick?

You peeked an eye open, then squeezed it shut again. Oh, no. You weren’t sure which was worse, having your eyes open or keeping them closed. You hesitantly opened both eyes, then groaned more loudly, tucking your head beneath your pillow. No. Having your eyes open was definitely worse. 

You heard a harsh thudding, as if a giant has managed to get into your room. What on earth—

The pillow lifted away, and you tipped your head up into the cool brush of fingertips against your forehead. 

“How’s our Sleeping Beauty?” 

You weren’t sure what flustered you more: the teasing tone of Tommy’s voice, or the way the word beauty sounded coming out of his mouth. 

“Right as rain,” You mumbled. “Or I will be, once you stop yelling.”

His chuckle brushed your forehead. 

“Pearl is on her way to look in on you. Apparently Esme is doing just as well as you are this morning.” 

“I don’t wish this on my worst enemy.” 

“Rest up.” 

“I wasn't planning on doing anything else.” 

“Good girl.” 

Before you could ask, or argue, or throw a hand out to slap him on the shoulder, he brushed a kiss to your forehead, then drew away fully. You listened to the retreat of his footsteps, a pause, the scraping of the curtains being drawn closed, and the gentle scruuuuuuh—thump of him shutting your bedroom door behind himself. You only dared look around after a few minutes, when you were certain he was gone. You rolled onto your back, sighing and trying to ignore the thud-thud-thud behind your eyes. 

You feel like hell, but last night was sort of…Nice. 

Drinking with the girls and breaking down some of the barriers before your families had been a success, but coming home to Thomas was…New. It wasn’t unpleasant, as you would’ve previously thought. You scrubbed your hand gently across your eyes, trying to recall your conversation. You had it in bits and pieces—his love of horses, his devotion to his family, his worries for Arthur and John. You wondered if he told you those things because you’d been spifflicated that he didn’t think you’d remember a damn thing. But you remembered. 

You remembered the almost kind way that he’d smiled at you a couple of times. You remembered the way he’d taken your hand and led you up the stairs, steadying you when you’d wobbled and taken uneasy steps. You remembered him turning his back as you’d gotten undressed, waiting for you to get into bed before bidding you a goodnight. 

A knocking on the door drew you up from your recollection, and you winced at the sound. 

“Yes?” You croaked. The door opened, and to your surprise, two heads poked through. 

“You’re in a state,” Polly chuckled before Pearl opened your door the rest of the way. The two entered your room, each eyeing the furnishings that were soon to be replaced. You pushed yourself up, wincing as your head spun. 

“Had a night, did you?” Pearl settled onto the bed beside you. 

“Could you lower your voice, please,” You grumbled. 

“Did you go right to bed when you came home?” 

“I meant to.” 

“But you didn’t?” Polly chimed in. 

“No.” You winced as you raised your voice just a touch. “I…I had a conversation with my husband.” 

Polly and Pearl cast one another curious glances, so unlike the cutting looks they’d leveled at one another just a couple of days ago. 

“It was fine,” You added. “It was…” Nice? Enlightening? Something you would be happy to have again? “Cordial.” 

“Was he drinking?” Polly plied.

“We both were.” 

Polly and Pearl each hissed, chased by sympathetic tuts.

“You should’ve quit while you were ahead,” Pearl admonished. 

“I certainly know that now.” 

Polly took another look at you before she patted Pearl’s shoulder, offering, “I’ll put the kettle on.” 

“You’re a saint,” Pearl smiled. You sagged back against the headboard, scrubbing a hand over your brow as Polly disappeared.

“Since when are the two of you so friendly?” You asked. Pearl shrugged. 

“We’ve come to an understanding…As you have with your husband, apparently.” 

“I think it may be a very different kind of understanding.” 

“D’you mind if I smoke?” 

“...I don’t mean to sound harsh, but if you smoke, Pearl, I will be sick.”

“Better out than in.” 

“Please, no.” 

-- 

It wasn’t every night—it wasn’t even most nights, but you began to spend time with Thomas. It started with him coming home just as you finished dinner, and progressed to Thomas making it home just in time for dinner. Conversation wasn’t always freely flowing, and a few of those first dinners were a little quiet, and awkward. But as you spent more and more time together, those silences became more and more rare, and when conversation wilted, the quiet was comfortable. 

You still slept apart, but for the life of you, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d heard Lizzie creeping out of the house as you awoke. Maybe she’d managed to work out which floorboards didn’t creak; maybe Thomas had stopped having her in the house…Or having her at all. 

You were certain that the second possibility was the most likely. It still wasn’t the ideal situation, but you appreciated it all the same. Not only had Thomas kept his promise and been discreet, but he was taking the pains to distance you from his romantic liaisons. It was…Almost sweet, all things considered. 

--  

“...What are you reading?” 

You jolted at the question, sucking in a gasp and dropping the manuscript that had been in your hand. Thomas’ brows rose as he walked deeper into the sitting room. 

“You scared me,” You grumbled. “How long have you been here?” 

“A few minutes. I called out twice when I came in.” 

“Oh,” You frowned. “I’m sorry, I must not have heard you.” 

“Clearly.” 

He walked deeper into the room, taking up the fallen manuscript and sitting on the green velvet settee beside you. You let your gaze linger, sweeping over him. His jacket had always been removed, though his waistcoat was still intact. His cool eyes swept over the page, brow furrowing a touch as he took in the content. His head began to turn toward you, and you hurriedly stood, rounding to the bar cart. 

“Would you like a drink?” You asked. 

“Sure.” 

You plucked up the bottle of whiskey, uncapping it and pouring a good amount. You rounded back to him, holding the glass out. He crossed his legs, resting the manuscript against it before he took the drink with one hand, patting the seat beside him with the other. You lowered yourself back down hesitantly, acutely aware of the way your thighs brushed. 

“What is this?” He asked, nodding toward the pages. 

“A book that was sent to us.” 

“Topside?” 

You smiled a little. Topside was how your family had always referred to the legitimate side of your publishing operations. You were certain that you and the others had said it around Tommy and his family before, but you were surprised he remembered. 

“Yes,” You nodded. 

“D’you like it?” 

“Ah…” You considered before you blew softly between your lips. “I’ve read worse.” 

“I’m not sure if that’s an indictment or praise.” 

You chuckled. “It’s got a good frame, but the writing is unpolished. Could be good, with a little bit of work.” 

“Will you work on it yourself?” 

“I may. Need something to do with my time.” It felt like the wrong thing to say as soon as you said it—but Thomas simply hummed, turning the page as he lifted his drink to his lips. 

“Redecorating hasn’t been enough of a challenge?” He asked after a moment. 

“Well it was, but I’m nearly through. The only room in the house that I haven’t touched is yours.”

“And why is that?” His eyes slid toward you, and the sudden shock of blue made your stomach flip. You shrugged a little, shaking your head. 

“I didn’t think you’d want me to.” 

Thomas nodded before he turned back to the pages. The two of you fell into silence, and you leaned in a little, reading over his shoulder.  

“...Dinner’ll be ready soon,” You told him after a few moments. He nodded, blowing smoke out of the side of his mouth, away from you. 

“What’re we having?” 

“Roast chicken.” 

“Vegetables?” 

“Potatoes and carrots.” 

“Gravy?” 

“Of course. I’m not an animal.” 

Thomas huffed a soft laugh through his nose. He turned his head toward you a little, his lips brushing your temple. The touch made your eyes slide closed, your stomach fluttering at the sensation. You were so caught up that you nearly missed what he said next:

“We’re going to London tomorrow.” 

You frowned, glancing up toward him. “Why?” 

“I’ve a meeting.” 

“A meeting that involves me?” 

“I want you with me.” He turned his head a little more, nuzzling lightly against your hair. “Besides, it’ll be good for you to get out of the house for a bit.” 

“I get out enough.” 

“I think you could do with a bit more.” 

You hummed thoughtfully before you leaned away, patting his thigh lightly. 

“I’ll go check on the bird.” 

You only managed to get up and take a single step before Thomas caught hold of your hand. You glanced back as he raised it to his lips, brushing a tender kiss to your knuckles. The action was so small, yet so intimate that it made your breath catch in your throat. He gave your hand a squeeze before letting go of it, letting his arm drift up to rest on the settee. You turned away, hurrying toward the kitchen. 

Once you were alone, you braced your hands on the counter, drawing in a deep breath and pushing it out again. Your skin seemed to tingle where he kissed it, and you glanced down, as if you could see some discernible change. You shook your head, shaking your hand before you turned to the oven. 

Dinner, get dinner together. You could worry about Thomas’ touch and the trip to London later. 

Next Part

Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ;  @paintballkid711 ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage​​​ ; @lorecraft ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce

[walpu]

My fellow tgcf enjoyers, what about Aventurine x reader but it's a gambler's den scene huh.

Context for everyone else: reader is extremely unlucky. Like. Phenomenally. The circumstances force them to make a bet with Aventurine: the loser grants the winner's wish. Ofc they think they'll lose but what they don't know is that Aventurine is horrendously down bad for them.

They bet on the highest dice value and reader is about to shake the cup, knowing that they won't beat Aven but suddenly he tells them their stance is incorrect so he stands behind them, takes their hands in his and basically shakes the cup for them. The result has a surprisingly high value but it's not enough to be considered a winner. But Aven says this attempt didn't count since he was just teachings you. And so he does it again and again, until your score value is twelve.

And then he's like "ha ha you did such a good job ~ maybe it's because I'm a good teacher!! just joking, you won fair and square :)" leavin you like this

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

It's rather interesting that each of the Yuus so far in the manga have been foils of sort to the overblotter in question (disciplined vs strict, competitive vs lazy, seemingly okay in body image vs puts up a mask, in order). Makes me excited to see what future Yuus will be like!!

Yes, it seems that the pattern for the manga!Yuu is that each serves as a foil or a “mirror” to the Episode’s respective OB boy. The idea is super interesting, but I hope they go further with it and actually let the Yuus engage with the OB boy of their Episode in a meaningful way. There’s both similarities and key differences between them, and I think that would make for an excellent opportunity for them to learn from each other, but also for Yuu to have a more active role in the OB boy’s steady, gradual change of heart and character. The way things are currently set up, the manga!Yuus don’t seem to have character arcs of their own or develop in any significant way from start to end; they’re just there to be the “good” example of what each OB boy struggles to attain.

For the Episode of Heartslabyul, I think the distinction between Yuuken’s discipline and Riddle’s strictness is an important one to make. At first glance, you might think being “disciplined” and being “strict” are the same thing. They’re actually not! “Disciplined” refers to control and restraint of oneself. That’s what Yuuken is! He is stoic but knows when to step forward and get serious. Meanwhile, Riddle is “strict”—demanding that both he and others obey the rules to a staggeringly stringent degree. Riddle isn’t “disciplined” because he forces his ideals on others and does not control himself when his temper flares. He is serious all the time and unrelenting in his pursuit of upholding the rules. In this way, Yuuken is actually the kind of person Riddle works toward becoming post-OB: someone with good control of his words and actions, while also observing the rules within reasonable wiggle room.

Another thing!! Yuuken’s style of leadership also greatly contrasts with Riddle’s. Throughout the Episode of Heartslabyul, we see that Yuuken is thinking about his kendo team mates, which spurs him to act or to comfort other characters because they remind him of his teammates. This was the case during the scene when Deuce confessed to his past as an ex-delinquent and Yuuken encouraged him in his endeavors to improve—just as he encouraged his kendo kouhai at the start of the manga. In spite of his stoic face, Yuuken is compassionate and considers the people around him. Meanwhile, Riddle rules with an iron fist and it’s always his way or the highway. He never once considers his classmates, their POVs, or their circumstances, always holding up his own interpretation of the rules as absolute and remaining unwilling to compromise.

For Yuuka, I wouldn’t say the contrast between her and Leona is in competitiveness vs being lazy. From what I’ve seen of her, Yuuka isn’t particularly competitive or lazy. She’s usually the one keeping people (mostly Grim) out of competition or squabbles, and she’s not exactly eager to compete (she steps up when people challenge or threaten her). I would hesitate to slot Leona (based on his actions in book 2 alone) as one or the other as well. Like… how is he lazy if he’s putting forth the effort to enact this whole scheme? And how is he competitive if the point of his plan is to get Diasomnia out of the tournament? Wouldn’t it be truly more “competitive” if he wanted to square up against them anyway?

I would say maybe a more apt point of mirrored traits for Yuuka and Leona are in terms of morality—or, I guess, how far they’re willing to stretch the definition of “playing fair”. Leona is the one that plays loosely, willing to resort to dirty tactics and skirting the rules if it means getting what he wants. Yuuka, however, is more morally upright. She’s keeping her friends out of trouble and stepping up to fight Savanaclaw mobs only when they pose a threat to her. In these ways, she “plays by the book”. As a fellow athlete as well, Yuuka would be able to understand Leona in the struggle to perform and to be seen. Not only that, but they share scars. The reasoning for Leona’s is left unexplained, but Yuuka’s is from a sporting injury. They could totally relate not only in their lived experiences, but by their physical markers.

We’ve only just met Yuuta, so I don’t know if we can draw any definitive conclusions as to how he’s a foil to Azul. However, we can deduce some parallels from his one chapter appearance so far. Both Yuuya and Azul come from restaurants that their respective family operates. Furthermore, Yuuta is and Azul was, overweight. For Azul, this became one of the sources of shame for him. His peers underestimated his competence in part due to his size, and this would later lead to Azul changing a lot about himself to appear “stronger” (including a more restrictive diet in order to maintain his new body). This is not true of Yuuta, who still retains his extra weight and happily chows on food. In fact, I don’t believe weight is even brought up by Yuuta at all. He’s content with his life the way it is, much more chill rather than stoic.

I think another HUGE point that helps Yuuta serve as a foil to Azul is their attitudes on gratitude. Yuuta is thankful for such little things like having food—he even gets mad at Grim for not being thankful for it!! This is a departure from Azul, who, despite running what is basically a wish-granting service, is never satisfied with what he already has. He is always concerned with getting “more”, be it money, influence, information, or abilities robbed from other students. The insecurity especially shows in how he desperately tries to protect his valuable golden contracts with a clever ruse. He keeps collecting and collecting, viewing those physical signifiers (the things he collects) as proof of his “success”.

My prediction for book 3 is 🤔 Azul will definitely see bits of his old self in Yuuta. His old self, whom Azul personally deemed as a weak and inferior version of himself, a version which he has a hard time coming to accept. I don’t think Azul would hate Yuuta or something that extreme, but Azul would feel pity for him and think him pathetic. Going hand-in-hand with the events of book 3, I believe Azul will underestimate Yuuta’s capabilities in the same way that Azul’s old bullies underestimated him when he was little. It would be such a cool parallel because, in this way, we’d get the sense that Azul has become no different than his bullies, pushing around the weak and (arguably just as bad) taking advantage of them for his own gain. And it would ultimately be those traits of Yuuta’s that Azul may have deemed weaknesses of his old self that save the day and get Azul to recognize he’s been living in denial this whole time, thus helping him to better appreciate his old self.

[giorno-plays-piano]

Binary Star

Part II

Pairing: academic rival!Satoru Gojo x reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, power play, hurt/comfort, no curse au, this series will get darker as the story progresses.

Words: 1.2k

Summary: It has to pay off, he thinks as he waits for the headmaster to finally announce the valedictorian, knowing she is there too, shifting from one foot to the other impatiently. What face is she going to make when his name will be called? Is she going to cry? To yell at him and publicly demand a re-evaluation? Or will she, perhaps, finally admit he’s done a fantastic job and won fair and square?

Part I

P.S. Academic rival -> CEO!Gojo

_____________

When he spots her name in the stack of papers his HR left on her desk, Satoru gets a brain freeze for a second. Couldn't be the girl he had once studied together with, no. It's been what, more than ten years since he had last seen her? It must be some other woman wearing the same name.

But he can't just leave the paper be, immediately taking it in his hands while the manager makes a confused face: Satoru only looks at the candidates' profiles when they are aiming for the high management positions in his company, nothing less. This woman, however, applied for the middle-level position, only recently becoming a senior at her old job. Why is the CEO looking at her CV so intently?

All Gojo sees is the name of the school they both graduated what feels like a hundred years ago, and he knows it's her. It's the girl who was his one and only rival, someone he had finally considered his equal when they both were fighting for the position of a valedictorian. It's her. He can finally understand what has happened.

Not that he wasn't searching for answers right after graduation. Knowing Shoko sometimes hung out with her, he was showering the girl with questions until she groaned something about the family of his classmate moving and that it's likely he would never see her again. She didn't tell why. Said she had no idea.

It's true, Satoru sees now: his old rival did move god knows where, nearly half across the country to a place he didn't even know existed. Some tiny city, he thinks as he googles the college she attended only to realize that it is, in fact, a community college. Community college? For someone as talented as her? Was she out of her goddamn mind? Even if she, for some unfathomable reason, didn't want to go to Harvard like him, despite her scholarchip, she could have chosen any other decent place with her marks. How could she do this to herself?

He continues reading the resume, the memories of her annoyingly pretty face fresh in his mind as if it all happened just yesterday. Internships at some tiny companies, assistant positions, and other entry-level jobs she should have never taken in places he has never heard of either... Until she finally moved here about two years ago and started slowly climbing the career ladder. Unfortunately, her CV leaves Gojo with more questions than answers he expected.

"I want you to interview her," he finally says to his HR manager, who's been shifting in her seat impatiently ever since he had taken the printed papers from her desk. "And if she says yes, I want to know when she'll come."

He isn't sure why he's doing it. It's been far too long to be holding any grudges, and, honestly speaking, he isn't angry at his old school rival. Curious, perhaps? This must be it. He just wants a closure of sorts. He wants to know why she has abandoned everything she believed in, even if it's selfish of him to be prying into her past. Clearly, something had happened. Something horrible.

Did she get pregnant, maybe? Gave birth? Remembering her father, he wouldn't be surprised if it was the reason they had to move. And yet, she didn't seem the type to do something like that... Not when he had never seen her speaking to boys outside of school, and even then, she would only be talking to them about lessons and future college or university prospects.

He has to have some patience, Satoru thinks. Surely, she'll accept the interview and come in person.

And she does, walking in the building - Gojo watches her from above, peering down from his fancy cabinet with enormous windows - just two days later. She looks somewhat different - not that he didn’t expect her to change after all these years - but there's the same air about her, he can feel it in his bones. It makes him strangely nostalgic, and he starts to itch to go down and talk to her the second she waltzes into the office of his HR. He needs to know why she left. Her secrets are making him restless like a child.

He needs to see her face when she realizes he's both the owner and the CEO of the company she wants to work for.

After giving her about 10 minutes, Gojo runs down the building as if he's a boy chasing an ice cream truck. He needs to see her. The itch that has been dormant for almost ten years is almost unbearable now, and he has no time to waste before she disappears again from his life.

"Yuki, I have a question..." he starts as if he has no idea she's conducting an interview at this very moment, making a surprised face and almost shouting the name of the woman he once called his equal. "Woah, I can't believe it! Is it really you?!"

Satoru knows it's not right to be that happy about her baffled - if not fearful - expression, but he can't help himself. Here she is, the girl who could never shut up in class whenever a teacher asked them a question, sitting in the office he built with the money he earned, not borrowed from his father. He is where she has always wanted to be, Gojo is sure. Geto would probably smack him for being a smug bastard in front of a woman who surely has nothing against him, but Satoru feels ecstatic.

Until he sees she is not only scared: she is terrified. Why? Is it because her old rival ended up doing much better than her? She must be feeling upset and jealous, but she shouldn't be horrified. There's nothing to be scared of. Is she worried she won't get this job because she thinks Satoru is a manchild who can't forgive her for their silly school competition?

Or is she scared of him?

He doesn't like the thought.

"I'm so happy to see you!" He adds with a too-wide smile. "What are you doing here?"

It's concerning how she bites down on her lower lip, nearly ripping the thin skin covered in lipstick.

Thankfully, Yuki finally acknowledges his presence with an awkward smile, "Mr. Gojo, good morning. I apologize, but we are in the middle of a job interview. If it's alright with you, I'll come see you a little later."

The woman in front of him still doesn't utter a single word, and he feels like she'll escape him again if he lets her. With a dramatic sigh and a smile so wide it's a wonder how his face hasn't cracked yet, he announces to her, "Oh dear, I'm so sorry for interrupting! But you'll wait for me after your interview, alright? We can go grab a coffee together! It's not like it's against our company policy, right, Yuki?"

If eyes could kill, he would definitely be dead by now because his HR is ready to stab him with a fork she once stole from a cafeteria and is now keeping in one of her drawers. Satoru isn't that suicidal yet, so he quietly leaves her office before his old rival can utter a single word.

Now, this is about to get interesting.

_________

Tags: @minshookie29 @mononlogue @whore-for-hawks @theoriginaluzisimp @khatte @brooke-gvf @nimuelis

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hello! Finally got to request!! I miss so many times 😭😭

How will the Gods react if they were fighting again reader in Ragnarok, a powerful an beautiful female warrior but once reader won, she suddenly changed into a child, with not memories of fighting with them and burst into tears from her injuries.

Pretty sure the Gods like Hades, Odin, Hercules, Shiva, and Apollo try to rock their now child opponent, trying to calm her down while a few probably stunned and panicked on what to do.

-You panted heavily, holding your sword to your opponent’s neck, your eyes focused on his own.

-This battle had been going on for a while, and the crowd was stunned stiff, seeing you as the victor as you took a step back, allowing him to roll to his feet while you were announced as the winner.

-Your stunning smile illuminated the stadium, relief feeling your body as your opponent grinned, you had earned your victory fair and square and you looked good while doing it!!

-You went to say something when an arrow from the stands shot out at you, and you yelped as smoke surrounded you quickly before POOF!!

-Everyone was trying to figure out what had happened before the sounds of crying filled the arena and as the smoke cleared, eyes went huge, seeing that you had been turned into a toddler.

-You were crying due to your wounds, which didn’t bother you as an adult, but as a toddler it hurt and instantly others were rushing to you, as you were now considered innocent.

-Hercules made it to you first, instantly pulling you into his arms, cradling, “You’re okay Y/N- you’re okay!” Hades made it there shortly after, shouting at the guards and Valkyries to figure out who shot the arrow.

-You were still fussing, as you hurt as Hercules cradled you close, rushing backstage to the infirmary.

-Nobody had ever seen anything like this before as Odin and Shiva joined Hercules and Hades in the infirmary, worried about you. Odin was trying to figure out what had caused this, as he had never seen magic like this before as the guards were constantly coming with updates.

-As your wounds healed, you were playing with Shiva, trying to catch his hands, but you were having a hard time, as he had four of them, so when you would catch one, he would tease you with his other three, so when you went to grab another, you would free his hand and he would tickle and tease you again, much to your adorable frustration.

-Soon you were tuckered out from crying and playing, snoozing happily away in Odin’s arms, as he tried to sense anything about the magic that had changed you.

-It was only when the weapon had been found, dropped with fingerprints on it, leading it to a culprit, someone who thought it was a love arrow, wanting you for himself, that Odin and Hades were able to figure out what had happened.

-You were going to be just fine and back to normal in the morning, it was something you would sleep off easily. However… it gave them a perfect opportunity to get some cute photos of you when you were so widdle!

-When you woke up the following day, in the infirmary, wearing a shirt that was a little too small for you, you were confused, wondering what had happened as you held your stomach, wanting food, unaware of the cute photos of you being passed around.

[notenoughncise]

Why Don’t You Talk to Matty About it?

word count: 2.5K

f!reader x matty

tags: angst, happy ending

warnings: alcohol, mentions of smut but no actual smut

after pining after matty since they became friends 15 years ago, it all comes to a head for y/n on a drunken night out

——————————————————————————

You’re nearly two bottles of wine deep when she comes up to the table.

“Hiiiiii… I just wanted to say that I’m a massive fan of yours. I loooove the new album!”

She’s drunk as fuck; stumbling over her words, gripping his shoulder to keep herself steady. You feel the jealousy burning through your entire body. It’s a chore not to show it; to smile instead of scowl at her, to drink from your glass at a normal pace instead of throwing it down your throat.

He turns his head to look up at her, smiling so genuinely that you want to claw your eyes out. He’s drunk too, you can see it in the way he clumsily puts his hands over the one she has on his shoulder, eyes glazed over.

“Aw, thank you, Darlin’. We’re glad you like it.”

You feel sick. He’s looking at her so gently, like he might spook her if he doesn’t. She’s just a fan saying hello, you scream at yourself internally, stop being a fucking melt. And it almost works, you almost calm down, and then she giggles and plops herself down next to him. You breathe in sharply, tightening your grip on your glass.

George puts his hand on your thigh, and in leans in to whisper to you.

“Y/N, you need to chill out.”

George is right. You know he is. He’s always fucking right. You need to get a grip. 32 years old and so hung up on your teenage crush that you’re seriously considering squaring up to a teenager. And for what? A man who maybe looks your way twice on a good day? That’s not true. You aren’t being fair. Sometimes you think you see it in his eyes, but it disappears so fast. You can’t ever tell if it was really there. And he smiles, he smiles so softly just for you; so softly it makes you weak in the knees, makes you smile back a shit eating grin every time.

But what does it matter - he isn’t yours. You’re just ‘the friend’, the one woman he can count on to not try it on with him. He told you as much one time, sat huddled together in the freezing cold on someone’s back door step when you were 17. And what were you supposed to say to that? ‘Uhh, actually Matty…’, Yeah right. You smiled and took the fag that was dangling between his fingers, taking the longest drag you could manage so you didn’t have to reply. And here you are, over 15 years later, smiling sweetly and keeping your mouth occupied so you don’t ruin your life.

You’ve got a face like thunder, you can feel it. But you can’t stop it. You can’t stop looking at him, can’t stop the jealousy ripping through you. A jealousy you don’t really have a right to have. He’s got you all wound up. He’s not even looking at you and you’re on the edge of your seat.

But who are you kidding? He’s always got you wound up. Always got your knees on the verge of buckling, always got you hanging onto every word he says. You feel your whole body pulse every time he looks your way. You always have. It’s a curse you can’t escape. Not to be dramatic but sisyphus had it easy compared to you.

You all watch as he runs his hands up and down her waist, keeping his eyes on her. She giggles, bites her lip, clearly living out her rockstar fantasy. You want to strangle her. You wish this wine glass was her and you could just squeeze and squeeze and squeeze and-

“You need another drink, Y/N?” George asks, sensing that you need to be taken away from the table immediately.

“I would love another drink.”

-

George holds open the door to the smoking area for you.

You fumble with the packet, can’t find your lighter, realise that Matty bumped it earlier and never put it back.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!”

It’s too much. It’s the last straw. Here you are crouched down in a dingy smoking area on the verge of bawling your eyes out. All because some stupid child is holding Matty’s attention. She’s not a child, you think to yourself. She’s obviously old enough to be in here but oh what does it matter. You can’t think straight anymore.

You can’t stop thinking about his hands on her, how you wish they were on you. You’re so jealous. So jealous that she just sat down right next to him and melted onto his body. She did something in 10 seconds that you haven’t done in 10 years. And is it really that easy? Do you just need to hike your dress up, drag out your vowels, and bat your eyelashes? Will you he fuck you senseless then? Take you into the bathrooms and show you what next week looks like?

But that’s not really want you want, is it? It’s just easier to think about him if you convince yourself you only want to fuck him. That all you want is his hands in your hair and your lips on his neck. That you don’t want him in a nice, normal way at all. You don’t think about being the girl in his Instagram stories, or waking up in his arms every morning, or… or…

“This is getting pathetic, Y/N.” George’s hand is gently resting on your shoulder. He doesn’t look angry, he just looks at you with that sort of sad face you have when you can’t hide that you think someone’s being a massive twat.

“Yeah, I know. Believe me I fucking know.” You don’t mean it to sound as sad as it does. George crouches down next to you, running his hand up and down your arm.

You couldn’t count the amount of times you and George have sat like this; cuddled together as you cried about Matty. It never gets old, it’s almost a monthly event now. He joked once that you need to start marking it on the calendar for him so he can wear something he doesn’t mind you covering with makeup. You’ve become unexpectedly close. You never knew him well until that same fateful night you were put in your place by Matty. That was the first time - you sat cross legged on the kitchen counter with your lip quivering and your chest heaving, and George just held your hand until you calmed down.

“You can’t just keep crying about him. If he doesn’t feel the same way it won’t change anything; you’ll be embarrassed for a couple weeks and then it’ll all fall back into place. He’s a dick but he loves you more than anything, Y/N. You know he wouldn’t be mean about it. You know that.”

You choke back a sob. You know he’s right, it wouldn’t change anything really. You’re both adults, no one’s 16 anymore. It can be mature, you can both be sensible. But it’s always the same; gone are your inhibitions and in their place is Matty, clouding up your senses.

“I can’t do it George,” you whisper softly, wiping underneath your eyes with the sleeve of your dress, “I can’t risk losing him. I’d rather never have him the way I want and still have him here than never have him the way I want and not have him here.”

It’s too quiet. It’s quite sudden, it’s uncomfortable. It’s just a girl crying over a crush, except the girl’s in her 30’s and the crush is her best friend.

George pulls himself up off the ground, holding out his hands to help you. You take them gently and you both giggle when you fall flat on your arse. You dust yourself off and stand up properly. George takes a lighter from his pocket and lights the slightly crumpled fag you forgot you’ve been gripping onto.

“Sorry for being a massive gimp.” You laugh gently.

“S’alright, Y/L/N. My favourite thing about you.” He tries to keep his face straight but breaks into a massive grin, laughing along with you.

“I’m fine. I promise, I’m just… I don’t know, I don’t really have the words for it, to be honest with you.”

“Look, we’re gonna go back in there, get another drink, request whatever ridiculous song it takes to cheer you up, and we’re gonna have a fucking great time. Okay?”

“Okay.” You smile at him. You don’t know how anyone survives in this world without George Daniel.

He pulls you into a hug, and you can’t help but start crying again. You wipe at the tears but it does nothing other than ruin your makeup even more.

“I’m gonna look a fucking state when I go back in there.”

“Eh, it’s dark. No one will be able to tell.”

“Wow,” you laugh out, “thanks George, very reassuring.”

“Always welcome, love. Now come on, it’s fucking freezing. You can cry about being in love inside.”

As George starts to lead you back inside, you hear Matty’s voice echoing out towards you.

“Y/N? George? You guys out here? You’ve been gone for ages.” Panic pulses through you as Matty’s voice fills the smoking area.

You’re still glued to George when Matty stumbles onto you both. He looks so worried, distressed. And then he looks confused. Confused why you’re crying, why you’re clinging to George like your life depends on it.

“Yeah, yeah we’re out here. Jus’ having a chat.” George says, rubbing your back with one hand and wiping away your smudged mascara with the other.

You smile gently at Matty, not quite able to meet his eyes. You’re embarrassed, there’s really no other words for it. No excuses, no nothing, the man you’re crying your eyes out about has just wandered in on you doing it. And where do you go from there?

“Y/N? What’s going on, sweetheart? Why you crying so hard?”

He placed a hand on your check, wiping at the bottom of your eyes with his thumb. Fuck sake, your eyes begin watering again (not that they ever stopped). You don’t want to have this conversation. No one wants to have this conversation. George especially doesn’t want to be in the middle of said conversation.

“I’m Okay, Matty.”

He looks sceptical - he knows you too well for this.

“Honestly, Matty, really, I’m okay.”

Lying straight through your teeth to Matty is a fully developed talent at this stage in your life, but you just don’t have the conviction tonight. He tries to meet your eyes again. but you can’t get them off your shoes. You hear him sigh. Shame burns in you - since when couldn’t you spew shit at Matty to keep him on the wrong track?

“Darlin’… Come on, you think I don’t know you well enough to know that’s not true?”

“Matty… Please, just leave it.”

“Okay, I can’t be arsed anymore. You two are getting left to sort this out.” George makes a move towards the door, and before you can process what just happened he’s back inside.

“Fuck.” You try and run after him, but Matty grips your wrist.

“Y/N, what the fuck is going on? Why are you crying and why are you lying to me about it, Darlin’?”

His face is so gentle. His grip on your wrist has loosened but he hasn’t let go. Curls falling in his eyes, fingers on your pulse. It’s too much. It’s too much. And then his other arm snakes around your waist and you can’t do it anymore. Your chest is so tight it might combust. And your face is so hot in the cold London weather that it burns. After an eternity, you meet his eyes.

“I… I can’t… I can’t, Matty. I can’t.”

The grip tightens, he pulls you closer.

“Come on, darlin’, use your words.”

“Oh fuck off, Matthew.” You half sigh, half giggle.

“Use ‘em, come on, use ‘em. Why don’t you talk to Matty about it?”

You laugh gently, watching as his face breaks out in a smile. God he’s so pretty. His hand is still cradling your check, thumb gently gliding over your skin. You don’t want to use your words. You don’t want to talk about this at all.

“Y/N?”

“I’m fine, really. You can go back to flirting with the borderline high schooler.”

It comes out meaner than you wanted it to, and you watch as Matty’s face falls. Fuck. So much for not having this conversation.

“Her? That’s what this is about? A fan I spoke to for less than five minutes?”

You try to move away from him, your cheeks burning red from the embarrassment - like a child caught with its hand in the cookie jar. But his grip on your wrist and waist tightens and he pulls you back in.

“Don’t make me do this Matty. I mean it. Please.” Tears well in your eyes, this could be it. This could be the last time Matty ever holds you like this, ever winds you up to stop you from crying. You don’t want it to end. How could you ever want this to end.

“Y/N, are you seriously jealous of a fucking 18 year old? Do you think I’d do that to you? Really? Come on, Darlin’ use that pretty head of yours.”

You’re too busy trying not to let the tears drop that you almost don’t catch the look of sheer panic in his eyes. It stops you in your tracks. Why does he look panicked? Why would he look panicked? Your heart races.

“Matty?”

“Yes, darlin’?”

You’re so close to each other you’re basically breathing the same air. His hand around your waist has been holding yours, your other hand has just been dangling at your side since you didn’t know what to do with it. You know what to do with it now; you bring it up to the hand he has on your cheek, closing your fingers over the top of his.

“What exactly would I need to use my pretty head to figure out?”

“Fuck sake…”

“Come on, darlin’, use your words.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah - fucking c’mere.”

You would’ve laughed at him if you had time (and if you hadn’t been so shocked), but his lips latch onto yours before you can think about anything else. He’s so gentle with you, the hand that was on your waist comes up into your hair. He grips it softly, smiling to himself as you moan quietly.

Before you know it, it’s over. He pulls away from you, but he’s still so close you can hardly look at his face properly.

“I fucking hate you.” You sigh.

“Think that kiss would say otherwise, sweetheart.”

“Matthew, mate, honestly get fucked.”

“Waited 15 years but can’t wait another couple hours? My, my, my.”

“Will you fuck off?” You laugh, not meaning a single syllable of it.

“Never, darlin’. Stuck with me now.”

He kisses you softly again, smiling sweetly at you as he pulls away.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”