and he follows her into the room

anonymous asked:

this girl on Twitter got dragged for saying she was gonna marry Dan and is now saying completely seriously that Dan knows her bc 'he follows her on tumblr, liked her tweet and addresses her every live show' as if that makes her so special. Like. How delusional can you be lol

Back when I was like 9, my sister and i would go on neopets and pretend to be Hilary Duff in the chat room. Maybe this is their 9 year old, neopet phase?

anonymous asked:

i love your work so much ! honestly you improved my whole world of fanfics by bounds and im so thankful <3 i was reading your fanfic bio the other day and the summary for space angel sounds really interesting ! if it's possible could you write snippet of it so we can get a taste ? thank you !!

Space!Angel

She was a lot smaller than he expected, prettier too.

Kakashi glanced up over the top of his clipboard. She was right where he left her, smack dab in the center of the room with her hand on her hip and a devil may care gleam in her eye. The standard navy colored space suit he saw sold in malls all along the space colonies was zipped down to her hips, the top half being tied messily around her waist.

Behind her sat the dull red head who followed her around. Gaara had been what she called him. The rest of her crew waited elsewhere, less concerned with sticking to her side.  

“So,” Kakashi cleared his throat. “You’ve done this sort of work before, I see. Why chose to go at it alone? It’s much safer and far neater to go through the system as an agent of a larger entity.”

“I’m aware of that. I never had a problem getting work when I had Konah telling me what to do, but I like calling my own shots.”

“Is that for any particular reason?”  

She shifted the weight of her body from one leg to the other, but the gleam in her eyes didn’t change. “I don’t like people telling me what to do. That’s how I choose to live my life.”

“Even if that means extra danger?”

Sakura laughed prettily and Gaara looked up. “Kakashi san, nothing about the bounty business is safe, regardless of who backs you or doesn’t.”

“I suppose so, but every precaution counts if it keeps you alive.”

“If that’s what you call living.”

Kakashi glanced back down at the papers she had given him. Listed up and down where the ranks and details of missions she had completed on her own. It said she started young, at twelve, but the lowest she listed was a C mission. There were plenty of B and A ranked missions that sounded challenging, but it was the handful of S class missions at the top that made him stop and look at her twice.

She was young and a beauty. There was no way he would have pegged her as an assassin skilled enough to survive suicide missions. Before defecting from Konah for a solo career she had been ANBU class. It was hard to picture her with blood on her face, especially when she smiled so easily.  

Kakashi felt like a dirty old man when his thoughts started to wander before he reminded himself of the age difference. Also he was a professional contact. Relations with work people was a no-no. He knew that.

“I’m sorry to say this, but you’re jumping in at the worse season for this sector.”

“Really? I thought with the tri gate races there would be plenty of traffic and plenty of criminals. It’s such a seedy sector to begin with…”

“Yeah, you’re not wrong, but the Dawn Guard work in this sector during the races. Other bounty hunters and agents can try and do business here, but the Akatsuki don’t leave a lot to the competition and can be even worse than the scum you’re collecting. I’ve heard stories.”

Sakura snapped her fingers and nodded. “I thought that name sounded familiar. Dawn Guard….back in Konah we called them the Akatsuki exclusivly. I’ve run into them before on my own.”

It wasn’t lost on Kakashi how her companion tensed at the mentioning of the name. From the looks of it, Sakura wasn’t the only one who had tangoed with the deadly organization.

“Don’t think lightly of them. They’re financially unmatched and rumored to do dirty work on the side. Each and every one of their members has a reputation that stands on its own, but together they have the equal power of Konah.”

“That’s debatable.”

“No, it really isn’t,” Kakashi murmured, reaching up to touch the end of his mask below his left eye. His hair hung down over that side of his face, but Sakura could see the raised flesh of a scar traveling straight up through the place where his eye should have been.  

“You were from Konah, weren’t you?” she asked after a moment. Kakashi blinked.

“Retired.”

“Son of the white fang, if I recall correctly. They spoke well of you.”

“Ah, I would imagine ANBU like to tell stories of past. While not the most talkative, they could always be counted on for a good story when it came down to it.”

Sakura smiled again, and this time it was wide and bright. “I liked the stories they told about you. They always came out great.”

Kakashi vaguely recognized her manipulation. She was feeding his ego in hopes of getting the work she wanted out of him and it was working. He liked being smiled at by pretty young girls, and Sakura was both.

Inwardly chiding himself for what he was about to do, the older man reached down and pulled out a binder before selecting a folder to hand over to her.  He picked two more and turned those over to her as well.

“Here. These are cases you could work in the area. The last two are easier and likely not something the Akatsuki would wast their time with. But the first one is the one most suited to your particular skill set. I…wouldn’t encourage you to pursue it, since it is a case they are most likely already working.”

Sakura ignored the latter two files and went straight for the S ranked mission. A wicked smile spread across her face to match her dazzling eyes and Kakashi knew there was no way she would head his advice. A moment later she chuckled. “Yes, I can see exactly what you mean. This is something Deidara san would be good at, and the reward is exorbitant. I can’t see Kakuzu not wanting that.”

There was something relaxed about her tone, as if she were speaking objectively about friends and not deadly rouge operatives who would likely kill her if ever they crossed paths.  

Kakashi closed his binder and returned it to the alcove under his desk before coughing to gain her attention. “You sound familiar with the Dawn Guard. When did you first hear about them?”

Sakura looked up, her smile still in place. “We’ve crossed paths a few times. The first time was when I killed the main android body of Sasori the scorpion, and then we met again when their leader Madara Uchiha decided it would be a good idea to skewer me on a stick, so yeah, I’m familiar.”

The way the word familiar rolled off her lips sounded so suggestive it almost made the old man blush. Without much trouble, Sakura took all three files, bowed, thanked Kakashi for his time, and then left with the red head who had remained silent all throughout the meeting. Sakura paused in the doorway to wave and smile, to which Kakashi waved and smiled back. Once the door fell closed he sagged down into his seat and sighed.

“I hope they don’t kill her, she seems nice.”

Keep reading

let them dance 3/?

entitled: i never should have let them dance
summary: When Arya sees the offer of a large reward for the safe return of the lost prince Gendry Baratheon, she sees it as the perfect time to pull off the biggest con. What she’s searching for the perfect copy to pass off as the prince, she finds it in Gendry Waters.
Only, unbeknownst to him and to her, he’s the real thing. [ anastasia au ]
pairing: gendry/arya arya&hotpie
word count: 5061
rating: not rated
genre: fairy tale au 
read chapter three here

Gendry exhales, looking back and forth between the two of them like they had grown antlers. “You’re mad. The both of you.” With that, he turns on his heel and storms from the room. Nymeria gives an excited yap and quickly follows.

“Well that worked well,” Hot Pie says, shifting forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“Just wait,” Arya holds out a hand, counting down softly on her fingers. “Three, two –“

“When did you say you were leaving for Kings Landing?”

What took you so long is what Arya wants to say when Gendry reappears in the room. Nymeria sits beside him, her long tail thumping on the floor. “Tomorrow morning.”

“The queen would know right away if I was not him, right?”

Hot Pie nods. “Yes.”

Gendry lets out a breath through his nose. The temperature had dropped so rapidly in the room, despite the fire that Arya can see Gendry’s breath in the air.

the bittersweet between my teeth

Pairing: Daenerys Targaryen x Jon Snow
Rating: Explicit
Word count: 3,750

Belowdecks, all Jon could hear were the creaks of the boat as they rode the gently rolling waves to White Harbor and his own quick, shaky breaths. He lingered outside the queen’s quarters, shoring up the courage to knock. There were no sounds coming from beyond the door. Perhaps the queen was already asleep. Perhaps, despite the lingering looks, first in her council room then later in the mess hall over dinner, she wasn’t waiting for him at all.

He wet his lips, eyes boring into the finely carved Targaryen sigil in her door. It was foolish to be nervous. He could face down the White Walkers and their dead with all the grit of a true Northern-born son, lead the Night’s Watch and thousands of Wildlings as Lord Commander, and protect the people of Winterfell as King in the North–but all that went to shit when Daenerys so much as looked at him, that violet-hued gaze as sharp as Valyrian steel.

And yet, whatever misgiving he had about being here, he knew she wouldn’t turn him away. It was inevitable he’d end up here. He knew that much.

Gods be good. One more deep, fortifying breath, and he rapped a sharp knock on her door. He didn’t wait long for her to answer. Hazy lighting from candles and a crackling fire illuminated her silhouette from behind as she opened the door, staying her movements at the sight of him. There was surprise in that normally impassive, steely-eyed stare. And–acknowledgement, he thought. A shared understanding.

She knew it was inevitable, too.

Keep reading

andallwaswell-ish  asked:

Seamus and Harry are a couple. Draco really doesn't like that. (fanon) Pansy is just the person he needs

“Quick, Pansy, kiss me.”

Pansy stares at Draco, her face screwed up at the absurd suggestion. There are so many things wrong with that statement. First, ew, she is not nearly drunk enough. Second, she doesn’t like to be rushed. And third, most importantly, nobody tells Pansy what to do.

“I will do no such thing. Why would you – “ her eyes scan the Gryffindor common room, following Draco’s gaze, and fall on Harry Potter sitting on Seamus Finnigan’s lap – “Oh, I see now.” She sighs loudly, accepting her duty as best friend, but also making sure Draco knows just how unappealing she finds the idea. “Fine.”

The kiss is brief and methodical and, all in all, incredibly disagreeable. Pansy only hopes that Potter glances their way to see it so it isn’t all in vain. As soon as her mouth is her own again, Pansy downs the rest of her firewhiskey.  “Never, ever, make me do that to your chapped lips again.”

“Sorry,” Draco says, looking past Pansy – she’ll forgive his inattentiveness this once, “It’s just –

“You needed to make Potter jealous?”

“Yes and –“ Draco pauses, and his eyes finally land on Pansy. About time. “How did you know it was Potter?

Pansy snorts. Draco really is an idiot sometimes. “Well you hardly have a crush on Finnigan do you? And Blaise told me sometimes you say his name while – “

“I’ll have a word with Blaise later,” Draco says quickly, a small blush appearing on his face – that he would certainly deny if Pansy were to mention. “Now hold my hand, make it look like we’re an established couple. I don’t want Potter thinking I’m easy.  If you put your arm – “

Draco’s voice falters, his gaze back on Potter. Pansy turns to witness Potter and Finnigan locking lips in a rather exaggerated fashion. It’s not romantic or erotic. It’s just a kiss. The two must have zero chemistry, much like Pansy and Draco.

“Although, clearly, Potter is very easy.” Draco puts on his cold, taunting voice but his own jealously is obvious.

Pansy rolls her eyes. Sometimes dealing with Draco is like dealing with a small child. She moves beside him and wraps an arm around his waist so they can stare at Potter and his current boy toy together. The two have stopped kissing and are now drawing patterns on each other’s hands. Gryffindors, honestly. “Would you look at that, Draco dear? They’re holding hands. They must be an established couple as well.”

“Do you really think so? Finnigan doesn’t seem like Potter’s type at all. And I’ve never seen them alone together before. I would have noticed it if – “

“How about we go over and find out?” Pansy shoves Draco hard and is pleased when he stumbles forward. She enjoys catching him off guard.

“Wait – Pansy, no.” Draco tries to protest but it’s too late. Potter has spotted them. He extracts himself from Finnigan and stands up to greet them, a hand running through his hair. Pansy has to hold back a smirk – she knows Draco loves when Potter does that. Not that he’s ever said anything. He doesn’t have to.

“Malfoy. Parkinson,” Potter says without even glancing at Pansy. Typical. And predictable.

Finnigan stands up beside Potter. Draco – what a surprise! – ignores this. “Potter.”

“Finnigan,” Pansy adds, only to annoy Draco. He gives her a reproachful side eye before returning his gaze to Potter. She suspects it’s the last time he’ll glance her way tonight.

They all stand there in silence. Potter staring intently at Draco. Draco staring intently at Potter. And Finnigan sharing a knowing look with Pansy. At least he’s not as stupid as he looks then.

Finally, Potter speaks up. “I didn’t know if you’d come tonight.”

“I never miss a party…even if it is hosted by Gryffindors.”

It’s not true. Draco has missed several parties over the years. But at this stage, Pansy doesn’t think Potter or Draco would even notice if she spoke so she keeps her mouth shut.

“Might be time for a Slytherin party next,” Potter says.

Draco is clearly holding back a smile. Pansy bets he is creaming his bloody pants at getting to have an actual conversation with Potter. “We get a little wild in the dungeons.” They don’t. “Are you sure you could handle it, Potter?

“I think I could rise to the challenge.”

“Subtle,” Pansy whispers to Finnigan. Honestly, Potter’s clearly got it as bad as Draco. It’s embarrassing to watch this train wreck unfold.

“So, Finnigan, that’s new.” Draco doesn’t even acknowledge that the person in question is still by Potter’s side. Finnigan shoots Pansy an amused look at being blatantly ignored. Things are clearly not serious with Potter.

“Very. And Parkinson?”

“I’m right here you know?” Pansy interjects, unable to hold back. But it makes no difference anyway. Only Finnigan hears her.

“It’s been a while,” Draco lies. Pansy wants to smack him around the head. Sure, she is happy to help make Potter jealous but there’s no need to exaggerate.

“Really? I always thought you were just friends?”

“Yes, well, there’s a lot you don’t know about me.”’

“Like how he calls out your name every night in bed,” Pansy mutters underneath her breath. Finnigan, at least, catches and appreciates the jab if no one else does.

“Of course. Sorry Malfoy, I didn’t mean to question you. I’m just having a hard time grasping you and Parkinson together. I thought you were…you know.” Potter trails off, a hand rubbing the back of his neck.

Pansy holds back a groan. It’s like listening to children with these two.

“Gay? Like you?”

“Actually, I’m bisexual,” Potter corrects. “But yeah.”

“Finnigan doesn’t seem like your type.”

Finnigan flips a half-hearted bird at Draco. Not that he notices.

“And Parkinson doesn’t seem like yours.”

“Because I’m out of his league,” Pansy points out, flipping her own violent bird at Potter. She doesn’t know why she’s even bothering standing here anymore.

Draco takes a step forward. “So, what’s my type then, Potter?”

Potter mimics Draco’s action so that they’re almost chest to chest – Really? “What’s mine?”

“You need someone who doesn’t hero worship you, someone who will hold you accountable for all your actions, someone who isn’t afraid of your temper. You need someone who challenges you.”

Pansy shares a confused look with Finnigan – did they rehearse this or something? Draco’s not usually this smooth with his words, especially with Potter in such close proximity.

“And you need someone who understands your vulnerability but doesn’t use it against you, someone who treats you gently, someone whose affection is unwavering. You need someone who forgives you.”

They must have rehearsed this. Pansy has never heard Potter say anything remotely intelligent before. And she hasn’t known him to be particularly observant either.

“And I suppose you could never forgive me after all that I’ve done?” Draco hits back, still just as smooth. This is getting ridiculous.

“I already have,” Potter responds immediately as if reading a line from a script. From a terrible cheesy muggle romance movie that Pansy would never be caught dead watching. Yet here she is witnessing this sappy display.

“What about Finnigan?”

“I was using him to make you jealous,” Potter admits. Pansy looks to Finnigan for confirmation – he winks. “Did it work?”

Despite using the exact same trick himself, Pansy can see Draco is outraged at being manipulated. “Fuck you, Potter.”

“You wish.”

And then they’re kissing. Enthusiastically. Way too close to Pansy’s face. She can see every stray strand of saliva, hear every lubricated slide of their mouths. It’s revolting. And worse still, they’ve become the centre of the attention at the party, eyes drawn to Draco and Potter’s embrace with Pansy and Finnigan standing by awkwardly, looking like dejected fools.

Pansy could spoil it by pinching the hairs on the back of Draco’s neck in vengeance for being ignored. Luckily, she’s feeling particularly generous tonight, and she’d never admit it, but seeing Draco with Potter is sweet. In a disgusting, horrible, sappy way of course. But still, sweet. Now she just has to focus on her own happy ending. She spies Hermione Granger’s amongst the watchful eyes around them and takes her moment:

“Quick, Finnigan, kiss me.”

Too tired

Originally posted by shawnthecutest

Summary: Shawn stays up late to finish one of his songs and a very sleepy y/n comes to check on him.

Fluff (may give you some feels)

A/N: It’s just something short and i hope cute enough to give you some feels bc I’ve been really into Shawn lately and wanted to write something but I had this huge writer’s block so yeah, hope you like it :)

masterlist | request


   Shawn was sitting on the couch in the living room of his flat in Toronto, which he now shared with y/n, his girlfriend. It was almost 2am, he had his favourite guitar on his lap, scattered papers covering the floor and the couch. You see, Shawn had this amazing idea for a song and he’s been sitting like that for the past 4 hours, coming up with new lyrics to accompany the melody. 

    He has finished writing another line and was about to try it out with some tunes, but let out a long yawn. He shook his head slightly and run a hand over his face before getting up and walking to the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee, to keep him awake for some more time. 

    He switched on small lights that were placed underneath the cupboards, so that he can comfortably maneuver around the kitchen, without stubbing his little toe. He took out one of his favourite mugs, that you got him for your first anniversary, and quietly placed it on the hard counter. Then he took the right capsule and popped it into the coffee machine. As he waited for the drink to be made, he lifted up his arms above his head and stretched. He slightly bended to the sides and then moved around his shoulder blades until he heard a not so pleasent sound, but that little pop from his spine made him feel much, much better. Sitting for hours hunched over his guitar and notes weren’t doing his spine any favours. 

       The noises coming out of the machine made him close his eyes and take a deep breath, hold it in and then exhale. Then a strong smell of coffee filled up the room, immediately making Shawn feel more awake.

      While taking the first sip, which just burned his upper lip, he heard footsteps and a soft voice calling his name, “Shawn?”

      “In the kitchen, love.”

       A few seconds later y/n came into the room, dressed in one of his t-shirts and some underwear hidden underneath it, as it reached her mid-thigh. 

      “It’s late. Shouldn’t you be asleep?“

      “I’m just finishing a song, I’ll be done so-”

      “Shawn, it’s 2am. Baby, you’re overworking yourself again.” She run her hand up and down his back, his free arm wrapping around her shoulders, pressing her smaller form into his body. 

         Shawn pressed a gentle kiss at the top of her head, “Go back to bed, I’ll come to you soon.”

         Y/n opened her mouth to say something, but a yawn escpaed her mouth instead so she shook her head. “Nah, you’re coming with me. I can see you’re tired, Shawn. Please, take a break and get some rest.”

         Now it was Shawn’s turn to shake his head, taking three sips of his coffee. His hand was now resting on her hip and she wrapped her arms around his waist, sleepily resting her head against his broad chest. 

      “I can’t, it’s almost finished, I promise. Just one more hour and I’ll go to bed.”

       Shawn heard a sigh leave y/n’s lips and then she stood on her tippy toes to press a little kiss just underneath his jawline. 

      “I’m too tired to argue so I’m gonna go back to bed. Come cuddle whenever you’re done, rockstar.” Shawn couldn’t help but smile and placed one more kiss on her lips, she hummed in agreement against his mouth, and then left the kitchen with Shawn following closely. He stopped in front of the living room when he saw y/n open the door to their laundry room.

      “Love, that’s not our bedroom.” He bit his bottom lip, trying to stifle a laugh, watching y/n stop in her tracks, pure confusion written over her face. 

      She mumbled a “what?” and quickly switched on the light in the room to, in fact, be faced with a washing machine and a dryer.

      “Dammit,” she said before switching off the light in the laundry room, closing the door and going now in the right direction.

      “Goodnight, baby. I love you,” Shawn called after her, a smile on his face, a warm feeling spreading in his chest. 

i’m sure this has been done. but. eh.

“I don’t think it’s that bad,” Neil says.

Andrew looks away from the road to Neil, and then back again.

“They’re not,” Neil attempts.

The only reason Neil finally agreed to go to the dentist was because of the threat of being benched by the coaches. Not because the pain has been affecting his playing - of course it hasn’t - but because everyone on the team is sick of him holding and rotating his jaw all the time, obviously in pain but completely unwilling to admit it.

“You do as the doctors say now,” Andrew says, a reminder of an old agreement made back when Neil first went pro. Neil’s innate distrust in people wasn’t ever going to be a good enough reason for him to be stupid in regards to medical care when he was out of Abby’s hands. Andrew would like to think that now they’re on the same team he would have slightly more sway over Neil, but that’s never really been the case.

“He’s not a doctor.” The level of scorn in Neil’s voice is truly impressive. 

“Medical professional, then.” Andrew imagines the look on the dentist’s face as hearing Neil’s real opinion of him.

“Lots of people keep their wisdom teeth,” Neil says. “You still have yours.”

Andrew’s aren’t growing sideways out of his skull and threatening to crowd all his other teeth together. The term the dentist had used for Neil’s was ‘severely impacted’. He’d referred Neil to a maxillofacial surgeon and said that Neil would be lucky if they could be removed under sedation rather than a general anaesthetic. 

“I know,” Andrew says, rather than attempting a logical argument. There’s really no point.

“What?”

“I know, it’s hard to believe that my mouth really is bigger than yours,” Andrew says.


The threat of benching works well enough to get Neil to the surgeon, which is unsurprising to anyone who actually knows Neil. He’s calm and unafraid all day, except for the piercing look he gives Andrew in the moments before he’s ushered away.

“There’s a quiet waiting room just through here,” someone says, indicating a door. “You would be amazed how ill people have to be before they stop considering asking for an autograph.”

It’s been a while since anyone over the age of about sixteen asked Andrew for an autograph - the older ones got the idea eventually - but the offer of a quiet place to not be stared at isn’t anything to be sniffed at. Andrew goes through the door and takes a spot on a chair next to the window with a clear view of the door.

His fingers itch for a cigarette. He reaches for his phone instead.

Social media isn’t of much interest to him, so he spends a good half-hour reading news articles spiralling into scientific studies and then into the rabbit hole of wikipedia. He’s not sure quite how long it’s been when a knock at the door interrupts him from the page he’s reading on Indian mathematics.

Someone in scrubs puts her head through the door. “Mister Minyard? Neil is in recovery now. You can come sit with him.”

Andrew stands and follows her quick bustle of a walk, putting his phone in his pocket as he goes. The nurse is chatting as speedily as she walks. “Once he’s more awake and we know for sure he’s feeling himself he can be discharged. He’s a little quiet right now, but he asked for you before.”

She ushers him into a private room - another perk of being professional athletes - with a smile. 

Neil is lying on his back on the bed with his eyes closed, but he opens them when he hears Andrew sitting in the chair at his side. He looks a little like a chipmunk with the gauze stuffed in his cheeks, his jaw swollen enough that it’s grotesquely square rather than its usual fine-angled shape.

“Hey,” Andrew says.

He’s not necessarily expecting chattiness, but he is expecting an answer. Instead Neil just stares at him. His eyes are very large, as are his pupils.

“Hi,” he says eventually. He sounds exactly like he’s talking through a mouthful of cotton. The nurse comes in and fiddles with the blood pressure cuff on his arm, and Neil rolls his head around to watch her doing it.

“I’m just going to squash your arm again, okay?” she says, with the manner of someone talking to a child or an adult who is exceptionally out of their mind on drugs.

Neil doesn’t say anything for a moment, and then comes out with, “This is Andrew.”

The nurse flicks Andrew a look and a small smile. “We met, actually. He was waiting outside for you.”

“He’ll always wait for me,” Neil tells her, matter-of-fact. “He’s my partner.”

The nurse’s expression doesn’t change much, but it’s only through power of will, Andrew suspects. She looks like she would love to laugh. “That’s really nice of him.”

“Yeah,” Neil sighs warmly. He’s pathetic. 

“I would have recognised him anyway,” the nurse says, still looking amused. “I’m a Rebels fan.”

Neil, who is the biggest Rebels fan in the city, does something that might have been a half-smile if it weren’t for the current state of his face. Then it falls off. Mournfully, he says, “I can’t play this week.”

“No, but you’ll be back out there before you know it,” the nurse comforts. Her name tag says ‘Helen’ and has a yellow flower on it. “Are you playing, Andrew?”

“He’s the starting goalie,” Neil says before Andrew can say anything, almost making it to sounding affronted. Mostly he just sounds loopy. Andrew has never seen him have so many emotional shifts in thirty seconds before.

“I thought he might be stuck looking after you,” Helen replies. “I know what athletes are like.”

“I can look after myself.” That’s a very Neil answer, and also a complete lie. Andrew is banking on Neil being too miserable to want to come to the game in two days, because otherwise he’ll be on the bench in all his swollen-faced glory.

“I’m sure you can,” Helen says, and pats him on the shoulder condescendingly. Neil doesn’t notice at all. “I’ll come back in fifteen minutes and see how you’re doing.”

She bustles back out again, closing the door behind her gently. Neil sighs and rolls onto his side, muttering something indecipherable when the blood pressure cuff gets pulled tight under his body. It doesn’t sound pleased, and it’s definitely not in any language Andrew recognises.

Neil raises his unrestrained hand towards Andrew. It swerves a little in the air. “Can I?”

“Yes,” Andrew says. He’s expecting Neil to take his hand, but he doesn’t flinch when Neil reaches for his face instead. What he currently lacks in coordination he makes up for in gentleness, but Andrew closes his eyes anyway to lower the risk of losing one to a poorly-aimed finger.

“You look weird,” Neil mutters.

You look weird,” Andrew tells him, mostly because it’s true, partly to see Neil wrinkle his nose at him.

“Do not,” Neil replies. He pats Andrew’s cheek, and then gets distracted by Andrew’s hair. That’s not unusual, to be fair, though the level of concentration he’s giving it is. “Hey.”

“Yes?”

“Hey.” More insistently this time, like he doesn’t already have Andrew’s full attention. He tugs Andrew’s hair. 

Never let it be said Andrew can’t take a hint. He lowers himself onto his elbows on the edge of the bed and puts his forehead to Neil’s. Even though they’re at odd angles, Neil sighs in satisfaction. His eyelashes flutter against Andrew’s temple, fingers stroking idly over the arch of Andrew’s ear.

“Good,” he mutters, seemingly to himself.

They stay like that, Andrew’s chin pillowed on the starchy sheets and his forehead likely leaving an imprint on Neil’s fairer skin. Neil dozes, hand going lax, and Andrew closes his eyes and thinks in circles for a little while about the Bakhshali Manuscript.

Another knock at the door makes him raise his head. Neil’s eyes flash open, and then he blinks like he’s reeling a little. His fingers have fallen to Andrew’s wrist, and they tighten for a split-second before dropping away.

“Hi again,” Helen says gently. “Let’s get a look at you, Neil.”

Andrew moves aside and lets her at him, ignoring the disgruntled sound this earns from the bed. Neil is distracted quickly by Helen extracting the arm with the cuff from under his body and taking his blood pressure again, before removing it and making him sit up. Then she leaves, and returns with clothes and a clipboard. The clothes she leaves for Neil to attempt to put on. The clipboard she gives to Andrew.

“Rather than it turning out as a discharge form as signed by Alexander Pushkin,” she explains with a shrug. It’s fine, Andrew is all over Neil’s paperwork these days. He flips through the notes and signs in the right places then hands the board back, and gets a sheet of discharge instructions in its place.

“I’ll leave you guys for a sec and sort things,” she says, and does just that. It leaves Andrew to subtly ensure that Neil puts all his clothes on the right body parts. He’s looking less high but still dazed, his eyes hooded but his face pulling tighter. In the fall down, he’s always uncomfortably aware of the abnormality of being out of control of himself. Years later that hasn’t changed. Andrew isn’t surprised.

“You’re good to go,” Helen tells Neil when she returns, and then says to Andrew, “Good luck!”

He would like to think, as he manoeuvres Neil out, that she means for the game on Friday. It’s not likely, though.

Neil falls asleep against the window on the drive home. Andrew prods him awake so he can walk himself into the elevator, where he sags against the wall, and then into the apartment. He shuffles into the bedroom, still making gentle smooching noises at Sir and King as he winds himself into the duvet. He’s out ten seconds later.

Andrew watches for a moment while King curls up beside him and Sir gently begins to groom his hair, and then retreats to the balcony for a cigarette.


Andrew has relocated inside to the couch by the time he hears stirring from the bedroom a few hours later. The Neil who emerges is rumpled but sleepy in a normal sense rather than because of lingering sedation.

He lowers himself gently onto the cushion beside Andrew, and then even more slowly lowers his head down onto Andrew’s thighs.

“Painkillers?” Andrew offers. The discharge notes included strict instructions on dosage and timing, but Neil’s been asleep long enough to be due another couple of pills.

“In a minute,” Neil mumbles, like he’s trying to move his jaw as little as possible. He pats Andrew on the shin. “Stay.”

In an hour Neil’s going to be pissed off and probably a little anxious, wanting to move but knowing he can’t, irritated by the pain. But for now, it’s pretty easy to read a book and play pillow while Neil rests.

Infinity - Made in the A.M. series

Originally posted by twofronteeth

Requests: 1. Getting into a fight with h at Anne’s house please. 2. request-going to lunch with h, his family, and your family. (These were two separate requests I just combined them)

Pairing: Harry Styles x reader

A/N: I’m starting to work on the requests I’ve been sent, thank you so much to everyone who has been sending them! Feel free to send more 


It had been one of the best days you had had with Harry in a while.

Every day you spent with him seemed to be a great day, but he had been really busy lately so the two of you hadn’t been able to do much. You never blamed him, this was the lifestyle you signed on for after all, but you were still grateful for days like this.

The two of you had started the day with a lazy sleep in. Despite it being the late morning you had remained in bed, shifting from lying in each other’s arms to gentle, loving kisses for hours. The two of you shared some long-awaited downtime together, just drinking each other in.

But when the time on your bedside clock had hit 11 o’clock the two of you had begrudgingly gotten out of bed and started getting ready for the day. Anne had been planning this lunch for weeks and the last thing she would have wanted was for the two of you to be late. You both knew how her mind went to the worst case scenario when anyone was more than three minutes late.

So, punctual as ever, Harry’s car rolled into the driveway of his family home right on 12:30. You had gone to open the door to get out but Harry had grabbed your arm to catch your attention. “Hey,” he spoke softly, “I love you.”

You were sure your smile spread from ear to ear as you returned those three little words. You leaned over to place one last gentle kiss on Harry’s lips before you joined both his and your family for lunch.

When you walked in, both your families were already scattered in small groups throughout the house, each in separate conversations. “Y/N!” Anne exclaimed as she saw you walk through the door. She quickly made her way over to you and wrapped you up in a big hug, squeezing you so tight you could hardly breathe. “Good to see you too, Mum,” Harry joked as he stood to the side.

She gave him a light smack on the arm but pulled him into a hug seconds later. “It’s good to see you,” she mumbled into his shoulder.

The two of you spent the next half hour greeting the rest of the family members who were at the gathering and sipping champagne, up until Anne announced that the food was ready. You both took your seats at the table and seconds later Harry had placed his hand on your thigh, tracing small circles with his thumb.

For a while, everything was complete bliss. Harry was by your side and your family was all around, chatting and eating great food. You had always been very family orientated and times like this were one of the things you loved most in this world.

Everything was going perfectly until your mother brought up your family friend, Isabelle, having a baby last week.

“Hopefully it won’t be long until Harry and Y/N start giving us cute little grandchildren,” Anne said with a grin.

“Well, he better put a ring on it first,” you joked and everyone else laughed along easily.

Everyone, that is, but Harry.

At your words, he hastily removed his hand from your thigh and your laughing was cut short. A few people around the table, as well as yourself, noticed his sour expression, Gemma being one of them. With a quick glance between the two of you, she knew to change the subject.

“I’m thinking of visiting Isabelle and the baby tomorrow if anyone wants to join me,” she broke the silence that had filled the room. By now everyone had noticed that Harry did not appreciate your joke, so everyone was quick to latch onto her subject change.

You, on the other hand, just looked at Harry in confusion. What was his problem? The two of you had been dating for over three years now and had been living together for almost two. Surely marriage is what you were working towards. The two of you had never said it out loud before, but you had thought you had this silent understanding of what you both wanted for the future. But now you were starting to doubt this.

Harry refused to meet your gaze, eyes moving to whoever was speaking at that moment but never engaging in the conversation.

You stared down at your food, no longer feeling at all hungry.

“Excuse me,” you mumbled, standing in your chair abruptly.

“You alright love?” Anne looked at you in concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just going to the bathroom sorry,” you smiled at her, but it didn’t meet your eyes.

You quickly exited the dining room, acutely aware of Harry standing in his place and following you out. You walked all the way to the other end of the house before turning to face Harry, you didn’t want your families to hear any of this conversation. You opened your mouth to speak but Harry beat you to it.

“What the hell was that Y/N?” he snapped at you.

Keep reading

Meeting the Family

Prompt: Batfam meets Batmom’s large extended family

AN: I interrupt our string of votes to bring you an actual story. Enjoy!

Words: 1490


          You’re more than a little surprised when your brother walks through your office door. Though not technically an employee of Wayne Enterprises, your office space is still in the building, just one of the perks of your husband owning the building. That also means your security is top notch, and well, you haven’t seen anyone from your family in about ten years.

          All of this is what’s running through your mind as your brother, your baby brother just stands there and fidgets. “You’re still drifting off I see.”

          You shrug and point to one of the chairs, on the opposite side of the room. There’s several minutes of silence, as you take in the changes on your brother, before you ask, “What are you doing here, Ricky?”

          “Mom’s in the hospital … It’s bad. She wants to see you.”

          That takes you by surprise. Your fight was never with your mother; it was just a side effect of the war with your father. “What’s wrong?”

          He shrugs. “Kidney failure, she wants to come off treatment. She won’t listen to anyone. The doctors say she still has a chance you know. If she continues her treatments, and waits for a transplant. Either way she wants to see you.” You open your mouth to say something but he stops you “This isn’t about dad, it’s about mom. The fight wasn’t with her, it wasn’t with any of us but dad. It was you who chose to leave. It was you who cut us off.”

          You nod. “You’re right, I did.”

          “She’s your mother, and she’s dying. You should see her.”

          “I won’t make any promises.”

          Your brother stares at you for a moment before laying an envelope on the table, and walking out.

          You debate on going for several days. Bruce is out of town on business for the week, and the boys are all gone as well. It’s just you and Alfred in the manor. And while the butler doesn’t pry he does acknowledge something is wrong.

          It all comes out two nights later about the fight that separated you from your family. The fight that ended up leading you to Bruce. The fight that led the two of you to each of the boys. “It’s weird how a fight that, at that time, nearly ended my world, led me to a brand new one. One I wouldn’t change for the world. “

          Alfred just smiles. “If you called Master Bruce he’d return home to go with you.”

          You shake your head. “No, I think this is something I need to do alone.”

          You’re packed and out the door several hours later. You catch a last minute flight, and you just go. It’s nearly midnight when you get to the hospital, suitcase in tow. You follow the nurse to her room. She leaves you at the door with instructions, to try and not wake her. You agree and slip into the room.

          Your eyes focus on the woman in the bed. She looks frail, and much too thin. Her hair though is still brushed, and delicately styled, your sister’s doing no doubt. And she’s dressed in nice looking pajamas.

          You prop your suitcase against the wall and move to the chair beside her bed. You just sit there staring at her. You study the changes and with a feeling of sadness you realize she’s actually gotten older, not old, just older. At the same time, it hits you. You’ve gotten older too. You have a husband, and kids now. You have a successful business. Things have changed not only for you, but for them as well.

At some point in the night, you turn to a book. You’re nearly halfway through when a voice whispers, “You always did have your nose in a book. Couldn’t get enough of them. You’d always beg her for one more chapter when she’d read to you before bed.”

You book mark your page and turn towards the voice. Your father is still very much like how you remembered him. He’s tall, and wide, but his hair has a lot more gray in it now, and there are more lines along his face.

He gestures with his head and you follow him out. “I didn’t expect you to come.”

You cross your arms. “I wasn’t completely sure I would myself.”

“She’ll be happy to see you.” You just acknowledge the statement with a nod. “I suppose we need to talk.”

You shrug, suddenly feeling like that twenty something again. “I don’t see why. We both said all we needed to all those years ago.”

He looks you in the eye and says, “I want to make things right.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”

“It’s been ten years.”

“And a lot has changed in those years. Right now, I’m here for Mom.”

“Which means you’re here for me. She wanted you here so we could settle things. She wanted to make sure that you had your family in case something went wrong, or something went right. She wanted you to have us around for when you got married, when you have kids. She’s terrified you’ll be alone.”

“And what do you want?” You ask. He just looks at you confused. You shrug and say, “So far everything has been about what Mom wants. What do you want?”

He stares at you for a minute before he says “I want my daughter back.”

You nod. “Small steps. This was a good first one.”

Without another word, you slip back into the room. Your father is right behind you and he takes the seat on the opposite side of the bed. Neither of you say anything, but you don’t go back to your book either.

          Your mother wakes up at about eight in the morning. She opens her eyes and she comes to life. There’s tears when she sees you, and a lot of saying sorry on both your parts. Your father just watches. You take her hand and don’t let go for several hours.

          Over the next several days you see a lot of family you haven’t seen in a long time. Some greet you with smiles, others with nods. Overall, you spend a lot of time with your mother and siblings. Things start looking up, and then suddenly something happens. No one’s quite sure what, but suddenly her blood pressure starts to drop, and you’re pushed out of the room, as she’s rushed back to emergency surgery.

          You’re a bit disoriented, as you watch the family surround each other. You consider joining in, but they’ve formed this little cocoon, and you can’t help but feel there isn’t a place for you there anymore.

          You watch from the outside, your arms wrapped around yourself. Till a noise you’d know anywhere hits your ears. A very tired looking Bruce rounds the corner, with the boys trailing after him. Dick and Jason are on the lookout for you while Tim and Damian bicker about something.

          You smile as Bruce’s eyes lock onto you. You meet him halfway, and he pulls you into an embrace. That feeling of safeness washes over you, and you allow the tears to come. Bruce guides you away from your family and suddenly the boys are all trying to reach you.

          They’ve never seen you cry, and you imagine it’s a bit unsettling for them. You hug and kiss each of them, before explaining the situation. Bruce disappears, and once you’ve collected yourself, they go with you back to the waiting room.

          You can see the curious looks on your family’s faces. And you do your best to smile and say, “Everyone, these are my sons. This is Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian. And my husband Bruce will be along any minute.”

          Almost if by magic, Bruce appears and says, “I’ve got her moved to a better hospital room, a private room. Not a private room, that can be turned into a semi private hospital. I’ve also called Lee, she’s flying in to take a look, and she has some recommendations for doctors that might be able to help her a bit more until she comes up on the transplant list.”

          Before you can even say ‘thank you’, your brother says, “And where the hell is all that money coming from?”

          Bruce just raises an eyebrow and says, “Me. I suppose I should introduce myself. I’m Y/N’s husband, Bruce Wayne. I’ve take care of her medical bills, everything is settled. And my company donates quite a bit of money to this hospital every year, so they’ve comped the private room. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get my wife something to eat.”

          Without another word he begins guiding you down the hallway, the boys following behind, with smiles on their faces; and you can’t help but smile, because your family is right here with you.

What Lovers Do: Part 4

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You have a friend with benefits relationship with the Winter Soldier himself: Bucky Barnes. You two have gotten the routine down: wake up, train, mission, come home, have sex, then act like nothing happened. It’s worked for you for a while now. But now that Bucky’s starting to see someone seriously, you don’t know what to do with yourself.

Warnings: angst and light smut, nothing too graphic

A/N: I am sooooo sorry.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Originally posted by oreo-wonderbatch


Bucky ended up staying the night in your room. He was going to leave you be, but wanted to make sure you were okay throughout the night. He stayed awake longer than he should have just watching you. You looked at peace. The complete contrast of what you displayed every time you were near him. He had to admit it that it hurt the way you were treating him. He didn’t understand it. You both ended the arrangement in an amiable manner. So what was going on?

Bucky’s phone started ringing and he silently cursed. He scrambled through his pockets looking for the disturbing device. His eyes widened when you groaned. He quickly answered the call button and waited. You didn’t wake up and he gave a breath of relief. 

Keep reading

Ambiguous Love

Hi friends! I spent so much time with this story and love it very much. Hopefully you will too. 
Songs that inspired this incase you wanna listen to them: 
-Aint Me by Kygo
-Attention by The Weeknd
-Comes & Goes by Greg Laswell

Request: Kinda, it’s about H being jealous but the main plot is from me. 
Warning: Mild curse language and lots of heart break. 

Gif isn’t mine and I would probably melt if he were to look at me like this.

A sour taste on his tongue combined with foul thoughts clouding his mind was what let him know that something was very wrong with him.

Harry was aware that his eyes weren’t supposed to stare at the guy standing close to Y/N as if he was murdering him in his head over and over again, even when that was just what was going on. With narrowed eyes he watched the foreign male touch his hand to her back in a far too intimate gesture as he laughed at something she’d said. How dare he do that?
Harry sat with his back to the kitchen as he watched her where she stood in the living room. He made a mental note to remind Jeff not to invite this guy again next time he held a small get together at his place.
Harry’s jaw tensed. Y/N was his. He was the only male she should give her attention to. The only one who should have his hands on her.

The guy wasn’t anybody Harry knew by name and he was sure to never bother to learn it either. He knew the guy was somebody who’d come around to these kind of parties a couple of times already and every time he was lingering around Harry’s Y/N the moment he had the chance. Harry did not like that one bit. Hot jealousy rushed through his body and with one last sip from his beer he got to his feet.

This needed to stop. He knew that it was him who caused Y/N to be alone and without a boyfriend and he wasn’t oblivious to how upsetting that was to her at times. This was unfair he knew but somehow Harry couldn’t find it in him to feel guilty. Other guys weren’t blind and found Harry gawking at the girl they were trying to chat to more than just intimidating, so with the majority of them one glare sufficed for their hands to pull away and leave Y/N’s smooth skin.
Harry felt like his behavior was justified. There was no way he could let his Y/N fall for a man who surely wouldn’t adore her enough. Harry wouldn’t ever allow Y/N to have a male’s hands on her body who couldn’t possibly be as tender with her as she deserved. If this meant Y/N would be alone and have no-one but Harry to love on her then so be it.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and began to walk over to where she was, his mind busy trying to come up with an excuse to steal her away. The unknown guy noticed Harry’s presence before Y/N did and like the rest of the flirtatious males he withdrew his touch from her almost instantly.
Harry didn’t say anything, not even when the guy greeted him with a polite smile. Instead he took hold of Y/N’s small hand, giving her fingers a tight squeeze before he began to pull her away from the bloke and towards the kitchen where he knew they would find some peace and quiet.
Slowly Harry relaxed. Feeling her warm skin in his palm and being able to just pull her closer and into his side where he could breathe her in… it had a smile pull at his lips.

With quick feet the girl hurried after him.

“What’s wrong?” her kind voice wondered once her friend pulled her into the deserted kitchen and she gasped quietly when his hands forced her up against the counter.

With discomfort written all over her face she pressed her hands against his chest so he would allow her to move away from the cold counter and closer into him.

“Ouch,” she complained quietly, “What the matter, Harry? Are you okay?”

„Who was that?“ Harry’s words were spoken was rough and lower than he intended and both of his hands balled into fists at his sides.

Y/N’s expression softened. “Harry, you can’t tell me that you don’t like Craig either. You haven’t even spoken to him. He’s quite nice, you know?”

„Quite nice?“ Harry repeated, stepping closer to her body, pushing her right back against the counter, „Huh? Was that bloke quite nice to you then?”

„Yes,“ Y/N tried to argue, her hands brushing up against his shoulders in an attempt to calm him, „And I don’t like how you always make me feel as though I need your approval when I talk to a guy.“

Harry swallowed hard. With a sigh he raised his hand and her body relaxed when his palm touched her cheek gently.

„You don’t need my permission. Of course you don’t.” He sighed before shaking his head, a deep frown on his forehead as he tried to figure out what he wanted to say. The words were right there on his tongue.
“S’just… I don’t like it, you know? You with another guy.”

“Why?” Y/N wondered, her hands squeezing his shoulders, “I wouldn’t let anybody treat me badly, you know that. There’s neither reason to be protective nor worried.”

At that he rolled his eyes. Oh how wrong she was. As wrong as one could be. “That’s not what’s bothering me. How could anybody mistreat you?”

And he meant it then. How could anybody hurt the girl standing in his arms? She was so utterly kind without ever demanding anything in return. Her heart beat for the people she loved and it melted his own when she looked at him like he was all she could see.
That was what he was so afraid of losing. Losing to somebody else.

“Not with you gawking at every move either of us make, no,” Y/N giggled, again not understanding just how deep the meaning behind his words was.

With a sigh rumbling through his chest he stepped closer, his hands finding her wrists and she whined when he forced her arms up with a gentle but swift yank so they would wrap around his neck. A satisfied hum escaped his lips and he closed his eyes. Catching on to what he wanted she wound her fingers through his soft curls and pressed a loving kiss to his cheek when he stepped close enough for them to be embracing tightly. Y/N laughed quietly.

“Harry, love, how much did you have to drink?”

“A beer,” he grumbled truthfully, a frown forming, “Can’t a man get some love from his favorite girl without being accused of anything?”

“Of course he can,” she replied in a whisper, her heart beating so fast she feared it might fly right out of her chest and away into the sky. She tightened her hold around his shoulders and shivered when he moaned at the sensation of her fingers scratching the back of his neck.

Harry pressed his mouth to her neck. “Do we have to go back?”

“To the party? Yes,” she giggled against his jaw, “But we don’t have to stay that much longer.”

This pleased him. “Good. Don’t want you near Craig.”

“Hey, you just said that you agree with me not needing your permission for what I do.”

Harry pulled back and looked at her with arched brows. “So you want to do-”

She groaned and shook her head rapidly with her eyes squeezed shut. “No, I don’t want to do anyone so don’t even start.”

Reluctance gnawed at his insides but he forced himself to step out of her hold anyway. She was right. He needed to let her have space. Y/N gave him a warm smile before leaning up to press another kiss to his skin, this time his cheek.

“Harry, please…” she spoke softly, her lips brushing his cheek, “I really want to finally meet somebody, you know? And maybe Craig is going to ask me out so… don’t scare him away.”

There was nothing he could say.
Harry’s heart sank when he watched her step away from him and walk back into the living room where he knew Craig awaited her already. And sure enough when Harry followed, discomfort flooding his body, he saw the male he already disliked greatly smile and hold out a hand for Y/N. Greedily he grabbed her fingers and brought them to his wet lips, a sight that made Harry’s stomach turn. Surely Y/N didn’t like this behavior either, he thought and true enough Y/N’s smile wasn’t all honest. The guy squeezed her shoulder before saying something that made her laugh and for a moment Harry could actually feel himself wanting to punch the guy blue. A feeling Harry was not used to at all.
Harry wasn’t a fighter. He was a lover. But oh if Y/N didn’t provoke a side out of him he hadn’t known before.  
Fuck it.
Harry’s feet carried him towards his Y/N before his mind could catch up and in few quick strides he reached her. His hands found her shoulders, squeezing and rubbing them soothingly to get her to turn around and face him.

“Harry?” she wondered, surprise and confusion written all over her features, “What’s wrong now? Are you okay?”

“Sorry, Craig.” Harry breathed the words dedicated to the male standing behind Y/N but his eyes never left her lovely face.

They heard Craig ask what Harry was sorry for but neither of them got to reply before Harry leaned down and connected his mouth with Y/N’s warm lips. It took a lot of bravery not to pull away when he felt the girl gasp and her entire body go rigid. His heart beat so heavily in his chest and his head was dizzy but he refused to stop kissing her and instead continued to move his lips against hers with as much pressure as he dared. It was when he felt the soft touches of her hesitant fingers agains his neck that he knew he’d won. Sure enough she began to return his kiss, moaning and whining against him quietly whilst she allowed her arms to wrap around his neck.
Harry could have rejoiced.
Y/N’s lips were soft, warm and fitted so perfectly against his own he wondered how he hadn’t kissed her before. Her body cuddled into his as if she were his missing puzzle piece and he liked how well his own arms wrapped around her waist. She gasped when his tongue poked into her mouth and he sighed deeply upon getting to kiss her properly. His hands grasped her neck, the back of her head before letting them drop to her backside where he allowed himself to hold onto her in the least groping way he could.
His heart swelled when he heard her giggle softly and he moaned upon feeling her hands move across his shoulders.

Keep reading

Together

So this was totally supposed to be characters’ reactions to Jon and Dany being in love but it suddenly got really long and really angsty and I don’t know why. So I apologize in advance. I’m sorry. 

Not taken from one specific prompt; it’s been on my list for a while.

Hopefully this makes up for not posting anything yesterday lol 

Tyrion

Tyrion had hoped that the King and the Queen would get along.

He did not, however, think that Jon would persuade Dany to take leave of all of her senses and leave for the North with her dragons. He might not have allowed Jon to come, if that had been the case.

They were in love with each other. Of course they were. Neither of them would ever admit it but every time they were in the same room they always ended up eye fucking. He’d learned about eye fucking when he was very young; when couples could undress each other with their eyes-but he’d never seen any two people perfect it like Dany and Jon.

Then again, he supposed they both flared towards the dramatic once in a while.

I suppose he just looks at you longingly like he’s hoping for a successful military alliance. She’d rolled her eyes and turned back to the fire but he’d seen the way her eyes sparkled. Gods, she had it bad for him.

A political marriage, perhaps. Good for both of their kingdoms and good for them. He would have brought it up, if Jon hadn’t left. It took every ounce of persuasion he had in him to keep her from going after him; she was always a bit impulsive, a bit too eager to throw herself into dangerous situations…but it was all he could do to stop her, to remind her how valuable she was. There were other Starks but no other Targaryens; who would be left behind to break the wheel if she was gone?

As soon as the raven arrived he’d known he would lose her. He’d tried to hide it from her but she found it, of course; she’d read it, back rigid and eyes flashing back and forth across the paper, and then she’d turned and gone upstairs-coming back down a few minutes later in her winter coat. She looked like an angel. But even angels could die. Even their love stories could fail.

He’d pleaded with her, but she’d barely been listening. Her mind had been made up and she was already beyond the Wall with the man she loved. He knew how hard it was to sit back and do nothing when the people you loved were in trouble-but she wouldn’t listen. She displayed the same tenacity that had gotten her so far on so little, she and the dragons had flown off, and he hadn’t been able to stop her. He couldn’t help wondering if it was the last time he’d see her.

In that moment he couldn’t help but hate Jon Snow for having such pretty hair, or for being such a decent man. And he hated himself for not realizing sooner that what he thought was just a crush had turned into all consuming love.

They were so young. Too young for this. He’d seen young lovers, fearless and ready to take on the world, only to die in each other’s arms. And dead heroes were no good to anyone. There was no one in his life that he could think about dying for-maybe his brother, or the Queen, but he didn’t want to sleep with them. His lovers were shifting faces; many of them he barely remembered. By now he knew that reckless displays of love and bravery rarely paid off.

He should have planned better.

But they were in love and there was no stopping it. All he could do was wait and deal with whatever fallout came with it. Because there would be fallout; there always was, when it came to matters of the heart.

Davos

The first time Davos realized that the King in the North and the Queen in the South were in love, they’d both nearly died. 

For a while Davos hadn’t been sure he could make it work. The two monarchs barely tolerated each other. But then, slowly but surely, they’d warmed to each other. And now they were…something else. Now they loved each other in a way he’d seen very few people ever love each other-not just for political convenience. 

Jon was stubborn, of course, but Davos knew these things-he’d seen enough people fall in love to know when one felt the first stirrings of desire. And he’d known that Jon was in trouble the second they’d walked into the throne room and seen the Dragon Queen on her stone throne, exotically beautiful. Any man would have fallen in love with her instantly-and even Jon wasn’t immune to her charms. 

Davos had prepared for every other eventuality, up to and including a battle at sea should they become prisoners on Dragonstone. He hadn’t been prepared for her, for Jon to look at her the way he did. 

Even then, they were already lost. I’ve noticed you looking at her good heart. 

Jon had stubbornly refused to talk about her. He changed the subject ever time Davos brought her up, every time he tried to coerce him to focus. And they were falling for each other, hard. He could tell, in the way their glares were softened at the edges with curiosity, tempered by kindness. When Jon escorted her to her place at the long wooden table for their first meal together and the way they’d tried not to meet each other’s eyes. The one time Dany had dropped one of her carved dragon figurines in the war room and he’d immediately bent down to grab it for her, and how their hands had touched for just a little longer than necessary. 

He’d never thought that he would like the Dragon Queen either; she was too foreign, and she’d taken the castle that he’d come to think of as Stannis’s and make it her own. But he found that he did; she may have been the most powerful woman in the world, but she never brought it up. She never exhibited her power unnecessarily. And the people who followed her…they followed her because of who she was, not because of her name. She was kind in a way that Stannis had never been-but her spine was iron, and unyielding when necessary. She and Jon made a good match; ice and fire, neither one smothering the other but flourishing as equals. 

It had broken his heart when Jon had volunteered to go on the wight hunt and he’d seen the look on the Queen’s face, the way she’d tried to call him back. Don’t do it, you blithering idiot. Don’t you see how much she wants you to stay? Don’t you know how much you don’t want to lose her? 

Which was, he suspected, why he’d gone in the first place. 

But he’d never expected, even in his wildest dreams, for the Queen to come after them with all three of her dragons…and return with two. He hadn’t had to ask what happened; they were all shell shocked and Daenerys looked devastated. But she didn’t lock herself in her room; she waited outside for days, weathering the snow and cold and squinting into the middle distance as if she could somehow draw Jon back to him. 

And inexplicably, she did. 

She never left his side in the days he was unconscious; she brought in a chair and sat next to him, not speaking, not crying-only changing his bandages when the occasion required it and sleeping in odd bursts of two or three hours with her head on the edge of the bed. She looked younger in sleep, more innocent and vulnerable. They both did. 

It made him want to protect them, to spirit them far away to somewhere they could live out the happy ending they deserved. But they were heroes, and he knew there was a good chance their love story would never get a happy ending. But he would do his damnedest to try. 

There was love in their eyes, whenever they looked at each other. Pure, unadulterated love. And he knew they were lucky to have found it, if only for such a short time.

Missandei

Missandei realized that her Queen’s…preoccupation with Jon Snow wasn’t just a passing fancy when she didn’t want to talk about him during their morning routine (a bath and braids). 

When Dany had known Daario, she’d talked about him every morning after she slept with him. He was light and funny; she didn’t take him too seriously and Missandei had always listened with interest when she talked about their nightly hijinks. But she never did, with Jon. In fact she didn’t tell Missandei that they were even having sex until they reached Winterfell (Missandei pretended to be surprised; everyone had known since the first time it happened). And soon she stopped wanting to talk about Jon altogether, as if she wanted to keep all of the sensations to herself. She and Dany had always been the best of friends; sometimes it felt strange sharing the Queen with someone else. But Missandei had always liked Jon; he was like Grey Worm, strong but caring, overcoming adversity after adversity. So they didn’t talk about their crushes; sometimes they would exchange glances, now and then, to convey all that there was to convey. But mostly Missandei just made sure she kept the sheets washed, in case the Queen ever invited a visitor back to her room. 

Once she asked her what love felt like, what she felt when she looked at Grey Worm. Missandei hadn’t known what to say, or how to explain the whirlwind of feelings-the sadness, the love, the urge to protect him from anything and everything that could do him harm…in the end the only thing she could say was “the way you look at Jon.” And somehow Dany seemed to understand.

She noticed the direwolf pin before anyone else did; Dany wore it on her shoulder, tucked under the collar of her shirt where it wasn’t noticeable. But there it was, bright and shiny as if (and she suspected this was the case) Jon had it made for her especially. 

It felt like a promise-a dangerous promise, but a promise just the same. A promise that one day, when this was all over, they would have a future together. 

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Younger Than Me

Request: Okay, maybe this is a weird request but could you maybe write something where the reader is on her early/mid twenties and is dating Bucky? Bucky is concerned about the age difference but the reader doesn’t care. Then Peter Parker comes along, and the loveable idiot doesn’t realize the reader is dating the winter solider himself, and gets a schoolboy crush on the reader and Bucky gets jealous - anon

Triggers: peter being adorable, jealous bucky

Word Count: 1300+

A/N: yasssssssss, peter shows his face today

Masterlist

Originally posted by avengershaveboobs

Originally posted by tomshollandss

‘Morning gorgeous’ Buckys eyes weren’t fully open yet. He had this sleepy face that made you melt where one eye was a little more open then the other and he had a small smile. His morning voice was also one of your favourite things. Rough and uneven from sleep.

‘Morning handsome’ you had been awake long enough to get used to the light shining in the window but when you hadn’t moved too much. Afraid you would wake your boyfriend. Who’s arm was wrapped around your body.

You leant up to kiss him softly then got up to walk to the bathroom. You found his T shirt hanging off the bed side lamp so decided to slip it on. Covering your naked body. You heard him groan, probably at the sight of you walking away. It put a little smile on your face.

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Single Dad, CEO! ♡ Tom Holland Head Canon

summary: ceo!tom meets single dad! tom

wc: about 2100

warnings: language ?? lot’s of cuteness ??

author’s note: two of my favorite tom au’s and hOLY SHIT I’M SO GLAD AN ANON MENTIONED THIS SHOUTOUT TO YOU!! there’s a lot i left out simply because it would be extremely long if i didn’t so i apologize but there may be a part 2 in the future ??


  • Single Dad!Tom was an accident, but also the biggest miracle in Tom’s eyes
  • His daughter’s mom, a woman he vaguely remembered sleeping with one drunken night,  left her with Tom one morning as a “surprise” never to be heard from or seen again
  • He had no idea his daughter even existed, he wasn’t even sure she really was his
  • But her features were almost identical to hers, being a dead giveaway he couldn’t ignore
  • It took him awhile to process it
  • She was merely a few months old when her mother dropped her off at Tom’s penthouse without so much as a second thought
  • However, Tom was probably the most clueless person on how to be a father
  • He vaguely had memories of helping with his younger brothers, but it was never his responsibility to take care of them as babies
  • He immediately called Harrison over to help him figure it out
  • “Are you gonna.. Keep it?”
  • “Fuckin’ hell, Harrison, of course I’m keeping her.”
    • he says this while admiring the baby girl in the car seat who was still sound asleep
  • “You’re telling me you had no idea she was even born??”
  • “Harrison..if I knew I had gotten a woman pregnant don’t you think I would’ve mentioned it at some point??”
  • Tom finding her birth certificate and other important papers her mother left in a folder
  • Her name is Genesis, and he’s positive it’s the most beautiful name he’s ever heard now
  • He really struggles balancing work and taking care of Genesis for the first few months
  • He couldn’t decide on a day care and went to at least a dozen because he wanted to make sure it was perfect for his little angel who already had Tom wrapper around her tiny finger
  • He makes sure his assistant doesn’t schedule any meetings around the times he drops/picks up Genesis from day care
  • Everywhere he goes with her, he proudly carries her and her diaper bag
  • Loads of trips to the park as she gets to be around 2 years old
  • Pushing her on the little swings for a good hour until she’s tired and his arms feel like falling off
  • Sometimes when his schedule is free, he’ll pack them both a small picnic filled with PB&J’s and juice boxes
  • As Genesis gets older, Tom is really picking up on this whole parenting thing
  • He does his best to revolve his schedule around her little life
  • Bringing her into the office as often as he can just to show her off
  • She’s a really excited toddler and is always buzzing with energy, especially when she’s getting non stop attention at Tom’s work
  • She loves spinning around in his office chair
  • All of his employees LOVING her
  • She’s made best friends with one of the older women who work there, Carol, from the sales department
  • “Daddy, daddy, look!! Carol made me a bracelet!!”
  • Secretly, Tom gives Carol a raise because she offers to babysit Genesis sometimes and Tom is just so grateful for how much Carol likes her
  • He’ll carry Genesis through the building with a huge, excited smile on his face
  • On the weekends he makes sure to go all out and cook them big breakfasts with waffles and bacon and fruit and eggs and really he just loves doing things for her
  • She loves when he gives himself a whipped cream beard, her giggles filling the kitchen
  • dON’T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON WHEN HE AGREED TO SIGN HER LITTLE 4 YEAR OLD SELF UP FOR BALLET
  • Let me tell you, it’s the best thing that has ever happened
  • She begs him to practice in the living room with her, insisting she teaches him  
    • Although he has a few moves up his sleeve
  • So he’d put on his serious listening face and give her his full attention
  • But she’d pause it in the middle of the lesson to go put on her tutu
  • And she’d come back with a pink blanket from her room, begging Tom to put it on around his waist so he could be a “pretty pink dancer” too!
  • Yet she’s his baby girl, so really he’d do anything to make her happy
  • Except one evening when he missed one of her recitals due to an extremely important business meeting followed by ridiculous traffic
  • He finally makes it, but the little dancers are attempting to do their final bow in unison
  • His heart is so heavy with sorrow and regret and he feels like the worst dad ever 
  • But Genesis comes running to him when all is over and he’d pick her up immediately and start apologizing to her for missing it
  • “It’s ok, daddy, I still love you a lot”
  • He’d never admit his eyes teared up
  • Taking Genesis out for ice cream to make up for it and letting her stay up two hours later than usual
  • oH LORD THE COUNTLESS NUMBER OF TEA PARTIES
  • “Dad we’re british it’s normal for us”
  • “Darling, nothing is normal about daddy wearing this princess tutu.”
  • It was a contrast to his usual business attire
  • Helping Genesis arrange all of her larger stuffed animals around the table
  • Filling up little tea cups with apple juice and putting on a proper English accent
  • It never fails to make Genesis laugh
  • Once he gets into it, he’s wanting to continue it longer than she does
  • “Ok, daddy I’m bored.”
  • “But Mr. Giraffe was telling me a brilliant story about-”
  • “No, we’re done.”  
  • Her first day of Kindergarten was the most stressful day for him
  • He tried braiding her hair
    • Keyword: Tried
  • Genesis letting out little heavy sighs as he tugs on her hair in an attempt to do the seemingly complicated twists
  • Tom moved all his meetings so that he could have the morning dedicated to Genesis’ big day
  • Loading up her little pink backpack with extra snacks, juice boxes, her favorite teddy bear, and loads of crayons and new supplies she begged to have
  • Driving his own BMW instead of having his driver take them because this was a big deal
  • Constantly checking on her in the backseat through the rearview mirror
  • “Daddy why do you keep looking back here?”
  • “You’re not allowed to keep growing up”
  • “bUT DAD HOW ELSE WILL UNCLE HARRISON LOVE ME IF I’M STILL A BABY”
    • Not to mention this little 5 year old had a slight crush on “uncle” Harrison
    • It irritated Tom to NO END
  • Pulling up to the school and Tom assisting her out of her car seat, helping her little legs reach the ground of the car
  • Him holding her hand and guiding her to her classroom
  • He feels very out of place since the room is filled with mainly moms
  • Loads of moms staring at the gorgeous man ???
  • Giving polite smiles to them and he swears he heard one of them say, “I’d get a divorce for that one over there,” while pointing to him
  • He’s really flattered but all he wants to focus on is Genesis
  • Helping her find her name tag on one of the tiny tables
  • The teacher starts dismissing parents and Tom really doesn’t want to leave
  • He might’ve tried bribing the teacher but she still refused
  • Leaving the classroom after giving Genesis lots of hugs and forehead kisses
  • Watching her talk to the kids around her makes him grin
  • leT’S JUST TALK ABOUT HOW FRUSTRATED TOM GETS WITH GENESIS’ HOMEWORK
  • So he thought when she asked him for help it would be a piece of cake
  • “What is this shit??”
  • “Daddy, language.”
    • “Sorry, what is this crap?”
    • “DaD THAT’S STILL NOT POLITE”
  • She definitely got his attitude
  • Long after Genesis figured out the simple word problems and gone to bed, he’s still trying to make sense of the kindergarten common core logic
  • Ringing Harrison for his opinion
  • “WHAT KIND OF BULLSHIT ARE THEY TRYING TO TEACH MY DAUGHTER??”
  • “Listen, mate, google it or some shit, it’s 1:00 a.m.”
  • Let’s not forget the matching Spider-Man shirts Tom insists on getting him and Genesis because they both adored the superhero
  • When it’s career day in 2nd grade, Genesis is EXTREMELY excited to bring her dad in
  • He wears one of his best suits, eager to make a good impression for Genesis
  • Talking about how it is being a CEO
  • Genesis is watching him with such admiration because she’s already so proud of her dad
  • Tom accidentally swearing around a load of 7 and 8 year olds
  • Becoming flustered and apologizing rapidly to the other parents and teachers in the room
  • “Well, that went well.”
  • “Just keep walking, Genny.”
  • The first time Genesis had a field trip in 3rd grade, TOM WAS BEYOND EXCITED
  • He took off a whole day of work and silenced all of his work phones and emails
  • It was a trip to the zoo and he wanted to chaperone
  • He brought extra snacks for all the kids in his group and bought them all tickets to ride the carousels and feed the giraffes and basically gave into whatever the kids wanted
  • Every kid in Genesis’ class wanted to be in Mr. Holland’s group
  • He’s totally loving being the icon of the day
  • When he learned Genesis liked one of the little boys in the group, oH GOD HIS POOR DAUGHTER
  • “Hey, Gen, is thIS THE BOY??” while pointing at the little boy who was very scared
  • “Oh mY GOD, DAD.”
  • Although Tom was arguably one of the smartest businessmen in history, it was unknown whY he wore a white button up and black slacks to the ZOO
  • He really regretted this when they went into the petting zoo
  • A goat chewed a hole through the bottom of his trousers and an other slobbered all over his shirt
  • Tom rarely went on dates after having Genesis, he couldn’t bring himself to make time for another girl in his life since she was basically the star of it now
  • One night, he went on a date with a girl from Italy, who Genesis wasn’t very fond of
  • He left her with the babysitter and promised to come say goodnight again when he got home
  • Being the smart little girl she is, she dialled Tom’s number on her emergency phone while the Nanny was in the kitchen and told him she broke her ankle while practicing ballet
  • Of course, Tom cut the date short and rushed home
  • ONLy to find her practicing pirouettes with the babysitter
  • “What about your ankle??”
  • “I don’t think it was broken, after all!”
  • Tom being very upset that she had lied
  • Questioning her about it after the babysitter left
  • “I didn’t like her. She looked like a bitc-”
  • “GeNESIS HolLAND”
  • But really he can’t help but laugh
  • She really took after him when it came to her open mindedness
  • Later on, down the road, Tom met you
  • You were Genesis’ 5th grade teacher
  • She always came home raving about how cool her teacher was is and how nice and you always drew cute pictures on her papers that received perfect scores
  • Parent-Teacher conferences came around and of course he showed up, expecting an older woman from all of Genesis’ descriptions
  • Boy was he wrong
  • You were his age, or maybe a year or two younger
  • He didn’t expect you to be that pretty
  • He tries to be charming but that doesn’t go as planned
  • “So, uh.. What do you do?”
  • “I’m.. a.. Teacher.”
  • Going on and on about how Genesis is easily one of your favorite students
  • Tom going home that night thinking of excuses to see you again
  • So the next day he offers to drive Genesis to school instead of her riding the bus
  • “But Daddddd it’s not cool anymore-”
  • “Get in the car.”
  • Even walking her to her class despite all of her little protests
  • When he gets to the classroom his heart is pretty much going !!!!!!!
  • Lol only to find out there’s a substitute today because you’re sick
  • So he repeats the process the next day and poor Genny is like “dAD WHY ARE YOU HERE”
  • You’re finally back and he makes his way over to you
  • “Hey, Mr. Holland right?” and you smile at him and his heart is doing gymnastics
  • “Can we get coffee sometime?” gENESIS AND HER CLASSMATES ARE ALL WATCHING THE EXCHANGE WITH WIDE EYES
  • Blushing at his gesture and nodding slightly
  • The 5th graders all going “ooOOOOH MISS Y/L/N”
  • Hushing them while Tom gives you a smile and gives Genesis a hug before leaving
  • Sending a note through Genesis to you the next day containing his phone number
  • Genesis reading the note
  • “Dad you’re so embarrassing.”
  • Genesis giving you the note later in class
  • “It’s from my dad, I think he really likes you. But don’t worry, he has my approval. Are you gonna come over for dinner now?? Can I get an A in all my subjects now???”
  • Texting Tom later in the day, a smile on both of your faces throughout the conversation
  • Tom thanking Genesis when he gets home :’)
  • Also reminding her no matter what she’d always be his favorite girl
  • You ended up being an extremely close second 
What Lovers Do: Part 3

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You have a friend with benefits relationship with the Winter Soldier himself: Bucky Barnes. You two have gotten the routine down: wake up, train, mission, come home, have sex, then act like nothing happened. It’s worked for you for a while now. But now that Bucky’s starting to see someone seriously, you don’t know what to do with yourself.

Warnings: angst

A/N: I heard “I Hate Myself for Loving You” by Joan Jett on the radio and this helped me write this chapter. 

Part 1 | Part 2

Originally posted by jlstreck


You avoided Bucky for weeks after the incident in the kitchen. Everyone noticed a change in you and no one, but Steve understood. They often questioned him about it, but he said it wasn’t right for him to tell. Bucky pleaded with Steve. Begged on his knees.

“Please, Steve. If she’s hurting, I want to help! Why won’t she let me help?!” 

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Aliens and glitter

Aliens baffled by glitter.

Torg noticed it as he was walking down the hall of the crew quarters a few small spects of dust reflecing light but thought nothing of it. Then a trail of it leading farther down the hall. Perhaps metal dust from someone in engineering? Torg followed it as it made him very concerned. Thinking it would lead him to an engineers rooms he was shocked to see that it lead to human Ali’s room from medical. Torg knocked on her door panicked as to what could have happened to one of their human medical staff. “Human Ali are you in there? Is everthing ok?” Torg’s tranlator let out just as the door opened to reveal the tiny redheaded human covered in the tiny bits of varying colored sparkly bits brandishing a small vacuum equally covered in sparkly things. Her eyes were slighty puffy. Torg shocked he looked her up and down instant worry crossed his face he thought maybe this was Human Condition where they would shed sparkly bits and was instantly concerned that it was contagious! “Hu-human A-a-ali are you okay?!” he stuttered as he took more than a few steps back. Ali looked down at herself then started laughing. Torg became even more concerned “Shall I call medical for you? You are crying doees it hurt? Should I not touch it? Is it contagious?” This only seemed to have caused human Ali to laugh harder resulting in the sparkly bits flying off of her. Human Ali managed to calm herself down enough to talk, “I’m sorry Torg. This is only glitter. My kids mailed home made cards saying they missed me and how proud they are of me. It made me miss them so it made me cry. Though I thought I told my wife not to let them use glitter when they make me cards as it can get in the ventaltion and cause problem. I was just on my way out to cleaup the mess i made in the hallway. Oh you didn’t touch it did you? This stuff is a pain in the ass to get off. So I guess in a way it is contagious. Freakin craft herpes…” Human Ali rattled off as she swooped down to suck up the ‘glitter’ that had gathered around her feet and inspeacking Torg’s for some too. She stopped and looked up to him with a very serious look in her eyes “Don’t tell the captain.” Then went back to cleaning.

anonymous asked:

prompt, if ur taking them: jaime rides to winterfell and bends the knee to sansa and becomes an honorable advisor, Jon is very jealous. (bonus points if he walks past dany who thinks he's bending the knee to her instead of sansa)

Jon x Sansa, Jaime & Sansa

The wind bit into him, whipping at his cloak, but Sansa stood at the battlement’s edge as if they faced only a summer snow. Her hair lifted and fluttered about, even slapping against him once or twice. Jon fought the temptation to wrap it around his fist and pull her to him.

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I Know Your Wife (She Wouldn’t Mind) - Part Twenty-Seven

Summary: You look more into the possibility of getting a dog, and your surprise baby shower brings more than one surprise.
Words: 3k
Jared x Reader x Gen, Jensen, Tom, Shep, assorted friends and family
Warnings: none
Beta: @blacksiren

I Know Your Wife - Masterpost

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What Lovers Do: Part 5 (FINAL)

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You have a friend with benefits relationship with the Winter Soldier himself: Bucky Barnes. You two have gotten the routine down: wake up, train, mission, come home, have sex, then act like nothing happened. It’s worked for you for a while now. But now that Bucky’s starting to see someone seriously, you don’t know what to do with yourself.

Warnings: angst

A/N: Final chapter! Woooooo! I’m glad you all enjoyed this series! Many thanks!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Originally posted by whatwasdead


Bucky was watching you again as you slept. Your naked form curled into his side. Was this wrong? Technically, he and Mellie did just break up an hour or two prior this. But he couldn’t help it. Just you being the usual light of his life, with your smile and laugh, Bucky had to have you. 

After the deed was done, Bucky came to the final conclusion: he loved you. Sure, he cared for Mellie and he really did like her a lot, but he always found himself mentally comparing her to you. He thought it was just because you were the person to help him become the man he is now. But now he realized it was because he cared for you much deeper than a friend. 

You were sound asleep, so Bucky decided to slip away. He needed to tell Mellie what he decision was. He picked up his clothes off the floor and quickly put them on. With a final glance to you, he closed the door behind him. He first wanted to get some water before going to Mellie. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Steve there. 

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I’ve got loyalty, got royalty
rating: a very light mature
pairing: Jon x Daenerys
summary: After Jon learns that he has a birthright to the Iron Throne, he notices Daenerys pulling away from him.
note: love to @jonathansnowflakes for letting me babble to her near incessantly. 

“You’re avoiding me.”

She doesn’t look surprised to find him lingering in the hall outside her quarters. Exhausted, really, more than anything else. She brushes past him without slowing her graceful, quiet steps, the smell of honey and ash following after her as it always seems to.

(He tries not to remember how he could smell it on his skin for days, after. How in the space just between her shoulder and neck, below her ear, it smells the strongest. How she gasps out his name when he drags his teeth against the same spot, her nails pressing into his shoulders and her ankle hooking behind his knee.)

“I’ve been busy,” she responds, voice clipped. He knows very well how busy she has been. Bewitching his banner men as well as his wolf, Ghost trailing after her wherever she goes. Even now, he can hear the soft pad of paws just behind them both, a silent patrol in the darkness of the hall.

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