#Rolex magazine

[biophilianutrition]

Sporty Chic

[zegalba]

Hysteric Glamour x Rolex (1998)

[vintageadsmakemehappy]

1973 Rolex GMT Master advertisement with Pan Am

[nestito702]

Kieran Culkin

For Esquire Magazine (March 2023)

Suit by Dior Men ;Shirt, Celine by Hedi Slimane; trousers by Craig Green; Love necklace and Tank Must watch by Cartier; ID necklace by Pattaraphan; chain bracelet by Chrome Hearts; Gem Dior bracelet by Dior Fine Jewelry; Serpenti Viper ring by Bulgari; Rolex watch, Culkin’s own.

[touterriblement]

Romy Schneider in Quiberon by Robert Lebeck for Stern magazine (1981)

[youtubelovesummertimetv]

#Jamie_Yost_Music #Fastnet_boat_race series full set 2019. #LOVE_SummerTime_TV_Magazine_Worldwide Rolex FastNet boat race music Ocean City Plymouth 2019 Music by Jamie Yost 2 6.7.8th (rumble.com)

[streetcars101magazine]

Ford Performance's 2024 Season Launch- Part 2

Ford Performance's 2024 Season Launch- Part 2

After fanboying over all the vehicles I talked about in Part 1 of this article, I went up the red, white, and blue neon light tunnel into the venue event space itself. Upon entering the venue, I was immediately met with the vehicle I had been hoping all week to see – the Mustang GT3. This vehicle was the official debut for the global FIA GT3 category. The powerhouse under the hood is a Coyote…

[targaryenmarvel]

A Stark Legacy (1)

Wanda Maximoff x Stark!Reader

Summary: The life of a Stark is tumultuous, especially when you are the only daughter of the technology magnates. You find yourself at a crossroads, struggling to meet your father's towering expectations while also pursuing your desires. This turning point is marked by the arrival of a certain green-eyed girl, a meeting that not only disrupts your world but also sets your heart on fire. Will you finally follow your heart or conform to your father's expectations?

Warnings: Language

Word count: 2,333

The unmistakable aroma of salt invaded the air as the gentle summer breeze carried the scent from the ocean. The gentle scent filled your lungs and reinvigorated your body as you took in the picturesque image before you. As the sun began to dip below the horizon, the once-deep blue water began to take on new hues. The sky slowly turned from a bright blue to a deep purple, mingled with red, orange, and pink shades, creating a kaleidoscope of colors. Despite the roar of the waves, your senses are overpowered by the cheerful and lively chatter of the people around you as they roam in the spacious and meticulously decorated backyard.

Tables littered the well-maintained lawn, some with guests and others with foods ranging from fruits with chocolate-covered pretzels to charcuterie boards and sushi—anything you could desire. Not far away stood a cocktail bar with an impressive champagne tower. While the sun was out, there was no need for any lighting, but as it gave way to darkness, string lights hung all through the yard, taking over the task and creating an almost rivaling image of the sunset ocean.

An atmosphere not uncommon for you as the daughter of technology magnates Howard and Maria Stark. There, amongst the crowd, you could see your father engaged in an animated discussion with an investor. You rolled your eyes. Only your father would discuss business at your birthday party. It was a miracle he had even come, considering work outweighed his priorities as a father. His rare appearance at your celebration had resulted from your mother's persistence or, more so, threats of leaving her share of the company in Tony's control. Although you typically didn't mind his absence after years of disappointment, you were grateful for your mother's actions, knowing he needed to be there for what you had planned. 

Tonight, you would give him what he wanted and make him proud despite his faults as a father. Let him be the family man he so often played in front of the cameras—the picture-perfect family portrayed on magazine covers that photographers frequently complimented.

In reality, your family was anything but loving, specifically your father.  In the solidarity of your home, your father rarely showed affection, and when he did, it was always towards your mother. He only seemed to have harsh words and expectations for your brother and you. Though you had always resented your father's behavior, your mother and brother, Tony, compensated for his lack of love. 

Then there was your saving grace, your childhood best friend, James Buchanan Barnes. He was the son of your father's business partner and his mother, an associate in your mother's charity organization. So it wasn't surprising that you became best friends, attending the same boring gatherings your parents hosted and causing mayhem until your fathers scolded you.

Twenty years later, he remained by your side. His usual crazy brown hair was slicked back, and two of the buttons of his white shirt were left undone. The outfit was paired with black slacks, loafers, and a Rolex on his wrist. His blue eyes crinkled in joy as your gaze crossed, and he clutched your hand tighter while motioning with his chin at your father.

Across the room, your father moved to sit with your mother and brother. Perfect, you thought. You gave Bucky a final smile before you pulled away to join your family, and he made his way to the live band stage.

Your brother was the first to notice your presence as he set down his whisky drink.

"There she is," Tony exclaimed, inebriated. Your father clenched his jaw, throwing daggers at your brother with his gaze. "Are you enjoying yourself, birthday girl?"

"Damit, Anthony. Can you behave yourself for once?" he asked through clenched teeth, giving a false smile as someone passed by. "You are no longer a teenager. You are a man. Now act like one before I make you."

Tony scoffed, ready to retaliate, but your mother quickly intervened. She rubbed your father's arm, willing him to calm down.

"Honey, please. We are celebrating our daughter. Let us not taint this moment with petty squabbles. Our daughter deserves better. Besides, we all know how this will end if it continues," she said, alluding to countless screaming matches between the two. Your father huffed but said nothing else. "Tony, please. For your sister," she continued with your brother, who still looked ready to pounce.

Tony deflated, eyes softening as he looked at you before he nodded. "Enjoying the party, peanut," he asked again, using your childhood nickname.

You rolled your eyes and smiled. "Yeah, it's been amazing. Thank you both for tonight."

"Oh, sweetheart, don't thank us. You deserve it, and if anything, it's James you should thank," your mother responded.

"I'll make sure to do that."

"Where is James?" your father asked, looking around frowning. "George and I need to speak with him about the project. Where is he?"

On cue, Bucky appeared. A high-pitched ring filled the air, cutting through the music as he held a microphone. Bucky laughed nervously, raising a hand to the crowd. "Sorry, everyone. The music will be back, I promise. I want to take a moment to toast in honor of Y/N's birthday." He motioned for a server to bring him a glass of champagne.

"As most of you know, Y/N and I have known eachother since before we could walk. She is my person, my rock during the most harrowing moments when I questioned my existence—teenagers, so dramatic, am I right?" Chuckles rang through the room at Bucky's words. "Anyways, I am trying to say that I am incredibly grateful for your existence, friendship, and, most importantly, for the last two years as partners. I can only hope you feel the same way because if you don't, this will be extremely awkward," Bucky kneeled as his hand reached into his pocket, pinching a diamond-encrusted ring. Gasps ranged throughout the air. Through blurry eyes, you could see your mother clutching at her chest, and your father's usually stoic face merged into surprise; your brother, for once, remained without reaction. Though you did dwell on the fact as you stood from your seat, you slowly made your way through the crowd towards Bucky.

"The last two years have been the most exhilarating and unforgettable of my life. Every day with you has been an adventure filled with laughter, love, and endless joy. You are beautiful both inside and out, intelligent, and breathtaking. Your kindness, strength, and warmth have touched my heart in ways I never thought possible. You are the love of my life. Nothing would make me happier than to continue creating a life—a family by your side. Y/N, will you marry me?"

Tears rolled down your face as the moments with the man kneeling in front of you raced through your mind, and you knew that there was no better man to spend your life with than James Barnes. 

"Yes," you muttered in a broken whisper.

The crow erupted into applause as Bucky slid the ring onto your finger and placed a chaste kiss on your lips. Your mother, father, and Bucky's parents were the first to reach you. 

Your mother enveloped you in comforting arms. "Oh darling, congratulations!" You could see the glimmer in her eyes as she held back tears of joy.

Your father came next, seeming very pleased by the events. "Congratulations, darling. You've made a fantastic choice of a husband with James here." He patted Bucky's arm. "Good for business too, don't you think, George?" 

"Certainly, we can work something out." You would have rolled your eyes at the two men, but all you did was share a look of annoyance with your now-fiancee, which was then broken as his father held you both by the shoulder with a grin plastered on his face. "Oh, son, you've won the lottery with Y/N. She'll be an exceptional wife and mother."

"Thank you, Mr. Barnes." You said tight-lipped, knowing he expected you to leave your job at Stark Industries to be a housewife like Minnifred. He was much like your father, except misogynistic. You were glad Bucky's mom was a saint and taught him proper manners. 

After your parents left, many of the guests approached you with their congratulations, telling you how they had seen it coming since you were children. 

Tony was one of the last to approach you two. He pulled you away from Bucky. "Hey, Peanut." He hugged you by the shoulders, kissing your forehead, completely ignoring your fiancé, to which you scolded with a quirked brow. He sighed dejectedly, finally acknowledging Bucky, "Barnes."

"Hey, Tony," Bucky greeted, amused at your brother's jealous behavior. 

While Tony had never had a problem with Bucky, his attitude towards the man changed once you began dating. You just assumed it was part of his protective brother's responsibilities. 

"Can I talk to you for a moment alone?" His eyes shifted to Bucky. 

Your fiancé looked back. "Of course. See you later, babe."

You watched him walk away, only turning to give Tony a sharp, expectant look.

Tony scoffed, running a hand down his face in exasperation. "Y/N, don't you think you're taking this too far?

"What do you mean?" You frowned, crossing your arms.

He clenched his jaw. "I know that bearing with Dad's expectations isn't easy. I know it's better to comply than get the short end of the stick, but that doesn't mean you need to throw your life away to please him Y/N. So please, Y/N, don't marry a man you don't love."

"I love him," you said calmly.

"Are you in love with him?"

You scoffed, fingers running through your hair, a nervous habit. "Tony, please. Stop. I am marrying Bucky, and nothing you can say or do will make me change my mind. For the sake of our relationship, I am asking you to stop with this nonsense, okay?"

You left without hearing his reply and rejoined your fiancé with a group of acquaintances—the children of other investors in Stark Industries. They all congratulated you, hugging you joyfully, but you could see the envy in their eyes. Once upon a time, you considered them your friends until you had heard them badmouthing you behind your back. Then you started to notice the fake laughs and smiles or how their compliment was always backhanded somehow.

"I am so happy for you," they said in high-pitched voices, but all you could hear was, "That should be me. I should be the daughter of a billionaire. I should be marrying the heir to the Barnes estate."

You could only return the same energy, giving them fake smiles and false friendship. Bucky tightened his arm around your waist, kissing your forehead in reassurance. You remained to chat with the group until your mother ushered you away and pulled you to the women of her charity group.

It wasn't until the end of the party that you could finally have a moment alone with Bucky. Most of the guests had left, and others took residence in the many guest rooms in the mansion.

You walked hand in hand with your fiancé, making a beeline to your bedroom. Silence filled the room as you closed the door, holding Bucky's gaze unblinking. You could feel your lips twitch, so you bit your lip, attempting to restrain yourself, but it was in vain as you doubled over, exploding in laughter. Bucky followed suit, chuckling as he moved to the king-sized bed.

You took a deep breath, wiping the tears from your eyes. You are unsure if they resulted from your laughter or something else, but you prefer not to dwell on the matter. "God, that was something," you said, looking around the room from your teenage years. Remnants of the age lingered in the form of polaroids with your so-called friends, posters, and stuffed animals. All left untouched since the last time you visited the vacation home.

"Mhm, did you see their faces? My speech had them swooning, and you know what? I wrote it last night before bed," he confessed, ruffling his hair.

You scoffed, playfully glancing out the giant glass window overlooking the ocean, "Oh, I deserve more than minimal effort."

"Y/N, you cried," he deadpanned, sprawling across the bed. You rolled your eyes, pushing away from the door and joining him on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

"So this is happening, huh? We are engaged," you mused to yourself, finally grasping the gravity of the situation. Although you were sure of your decision, your stomach still dropped at the turn your life was taking—Tony's voice nagging at the back of your mind.

"What will we do when they ask us for grandchildren?" Bucky asked lowly in a similar state.

"I'm not sleeping with you." You frowned, disturbed by the idea.

"I'm not sleeping with you either," Bucky retorted, equally aggravated. "Look, I am grateful for what you are doing for me. I am, but I refuse to continue if you're not comfortable. It's not too late. We can call it off, and fuck, what anyone says. My father and the inheritance are nothing compared to your friendship, Y/N."

You turned on your side, mirroring his position as you propped your head on your elbow.

"We already discussed this, Bucky. I tried finding someone to love, but everyone I've met only sees me as Stark, an endless money fountain. Not a person. They don't love me for me," you said, your voice wavering as tears prickled in your eyes. You took his hand. "This isn't a sacrifice for me, Buck. I can't think of anyone else I would love to spend the rest of my life with. And I know we will face many obstacles, but we'll figure it out. We always do." You knew the road to follow wouldn't be easy, but you were prepared to face the obstacles with him by your side.

A/N: Hey everyone, how is everyone feeling about the first chapter? R and Bucky's relationship? In the next chapter, expect Wanda content!

[accio-victuuri]

June CPNs round-up ❤️💛💚

• Children’s Day candies

• similar we11done pants - i personally love seeing them in same style clothing, especially if it’s as unique as this.

• LOZ preview candies: having the same braincell playing w/ an abacus & the ok gesture reappears

• i can’t link it here because the posts are locked over at weibo, but someone on douyin commented they saw wyb on set of LOZ. but then later on said that they were mistaken. hmmm. you can take it as it is, that this person said something he shouldn’t have. or that he retracted his statement to prevent any problems or rumors. as with these things anyway, we will know as time goes by and as we see clues here and there. i’m just archiving this incident here for future use.

• Beijing same city 6/5 to 6/7 before wyb flew abroad for the french open.

• 6/6 XZ chongqing photos candies 📷

• WYB and the innocence of the little prince

• Look at them and their hats and long hair!

• french embassy paying attention to THEM!

• GG spotted wearing green tod’s shoes! and it looks like they purposely matched their airport fits 😭😭

• XZ’s dragonboat festival photos

• 6/11 xz and wyb together on the hot search

• The similarity in their ELLE magazine previews. you can say that it’s the editing from the same magazine publication that’s why this happened but it’s so uncanny!!!!

• weibo opening screen of their movies winning at weibo movie night!!!!

• August issue of MOVIE STAR magazine featuring them for CQL 5th anniversary!!!!

• venchi chocolate

• new apple watch after spending time in beijing

• rolex daytona paul newman 6263

• XZS chongqing vlog: stone island wardrobe, suitcase, ipad and same city (shanghai) - what i didn’t include here about the suitcase is that, i like the cpn of wyb bringing home stuff that xz’s parents ( in chongqing where he came from before shanghai ) has asked him to give yibo. it may be food items and other things and it makes sense that yibo is the one to take it back.

• 6/16 xiao zhan weibo posts a 🐽 and them posting so close to each other & some more clowning about a sus necklace, 18:23 and venus - i swear! this made me lose my mind! xz is so loud 🗣️🗣️🗣️on yibo’s end we got him imitating the family picture

and i forgot to add the betty boop that looked like she’s wearing luffy’s outfit!

• 6/17 zsww fake rumor

• a cpn compilation about the pig 🐽

• Loewe candies + them being in europe at the same time for 622

• going back to Beijing the same day 6/23!

• rufeng posts new audio snippet where wyb implies he is not jealous of wwx and wq

• them being number 1 for the respective weeks their new endorsements were announced. king behavior!

• tod’s x loewe business photo shoot looks! it’s matching!

• another example of ybo and xzs similarity ( yibo moment )

• the bonus content this month is a tarot card reading done for the boys. if you’ve been following me for some time you’ll know that this is my guilty pleasure when it comes to them. i understand it’s out there so feel free to skip. here is the original video. i will just share here the interesting part that made cpfs 👀.

reading was made 6/19 and people were asking about if whether they will go to europe together. the person said that it’s within the month and not a two person trip cause they will have people with them. and that they have been preparing for this. a section also explained how their state is, that it’s treating one like a husband and they will stay sweet forever. also how the two will remain “hot” or popular. and— that they will sign a contract to put themselves in equal footing which is not limited to a marriage certificate etc.

a part of it too which was asked is how wyb’s relationship is with his dad + i guess how he is taking the romance between him and xz plus other things ( probably ) idk how cpfs thought of asking this. i’m not implying anything okay? the question was “Has the father’s attitude softened?” OP said that wyb has not returned home during this period and him & his father is always separated by by geographical distance. there is no time to sit down and talk with his father so the final result is still a deadlock.But they have to talk and wyb needs to take the initiative to speak to his father.

• adding this here cause it’s blowing my mind how much they look alike recently. like this airport video of xz. i mean. he even move kinda like wyb. LIKE…WHAT…..

-END. See you next month!

<<< previous post

[scorpioracha]

Dating Seokjin

I really hope you guys enjoy this one! I spent the better part of the day writing it and Jin has a special place in my heart as one of my first biases so yeah. Y’all know the vibes, reblog,like,comment and come yell at me if you enjoy it they’re really appreciated and encourage me to keep writing♡

김 석진 Kim Seokjin

-you and Jin met while you were working at a bakery in myeongdeong. It wasn’t your dream job but it payed the bills, especially during rush hour. Extra people meant extra tips, and working the morning rush didn’t seem so bad when the line was packed full of people with Chanel bags and Rolexes, you’re even sure you saw a Mercedes parked out front…

-So you were no stranger to slapping a smile on your face and putting on the charm for some extra won in your tip jar—you even decorated it seasonly—dedicated to the craft,born to the breed…this was not your first rodeo working customer service and from the looks of rent and textbooks it wouldn’t be your last

-When a handsome man walks in you weren’t even phased. You looked him straight in the eyes and asked him for his order. Then asked if he was okay because the pause in between was getting a bit awkward and there were more customers.

“You don’t know who I am”he mumbled, seemingly shocked. You just held back an eye roll strong enough to cause an earthquake and smiled again. Rich people.

“No, am I supposed to?”

-this caused the most heinous laughter you have ever heard and he recovered enough to say he wanted an iced americano and whatever you thought was best. Trying not to side eye him for wasting your time and causing the other customers to get antsy, you recommended him a slice of vanilla cheesecake and he laughed again, questioning if it was too early for cake. You couldn’t help yourself but to laugh too because his was quite something and you just winked at him and promised not to tell.

-you were understaffed that day—as usual, so you also got his order ready. You sent him on his way with a bow and a cake pop snuck in there cause no one really made you laugh on the job. And he left you with a hefty tip that felt like robbery.

-you thought that was the last you’d see of him. Until you started seeing him everywhere. Billboards,tv shows,magazines,posters—hell the bakery even had a poster of his band up in the coming month. You were sure it was him, those lips didn’t just belong to anyone.

-you found yourself looking for him during the morning rush but to no avail, he wasn’t there. He was everywhere else around you though and it drove you crazy. Your squeaky laughed paramour seemed to be gone with the wind.

-until your shift got changed sometime near December. With finals upcoming you needed the mornings to sleep and study, so now you worked closing.

-your first day on closing was similar to any other closing shift. Busy from 4-6pm and then dead the rest of the night. It was peaceful in a way, less tips but between customers you got to relax.

-Until he came in. He was wearing a mask and a hat and bundled up in about a million coats but it was him, you knew it. You had learned his name was Seokjin from your research(stalking) and maybe you were having hallucinations from your third espresso but there he was, staring at you with those beautiful eyes. Then he said the unexpected.

“Ya!”he exclaimed, ripping off his scarf. “Where have you been?! I’ve been coming here every night for the past three months! Do you not work the night shift?! Has nobody told you??”

You furrowed your brows, that’s not what you were expecting. “You could have come during the day time!”you argued. “If you knew I wasn’t here at night, why didn’t you come during the day?!”

“Because I can’t come during the day!”he argued back. By this point his jacket had been hung over a chair and his mask was pulled down on his chin. Damn. It was hard to argue with a man with those lips…

“…and I’ve been sneaking around like a creep looking for you—are you even listening??”

You blinked once. Then twice. Then found yourself laughing again like you had all those months ago. Who new a meetcute in July could make an argument in December

feel like a first date.

“You said you’ve been looking for me?”you said, looking at him with mirth in your eyes. He nods, his own eyes still wide from his ranting and his cheeks pink from adjusting to the warmth.

“I..yes, I just-I just couldn’t get you out of my head”he explained, “I’m at a point in my life where it feels like everyone thinks they know me. It was just refreshing to meet somebody without them having a million and one ideas of who they think I am”

You nod. “Well, I know your name now because who doesn’t, but you’re right, I don’t know you”

“Would you like to?”he asked.

“I would.”

And it was history from there. A slightly bumpy history.

-“do I get a kiss if I say today is my birthday?”

“You can get a slap”

-You two did in fact meet again on his birthday and after making sure(asking to see his ID) you celebrated with a slice of vanilla cheesecake and a candle that was half broken you found somewhere in the break room.

-this all happened in 2016. As the group grew and their popularity, your relationship definitely needed to adjust accordingly. Bang PD was less than thrilled by Jin getting himself into a relationship but one thing we know about Jin is that he’s stubborn🤡 so there was no way he was losing that fight

-you had to adjust to seeing him less earlier on when they were still making a name for themselves. But that didn’t stop you from packing up the pastries at the end of the and hauling them off to the boys at the dance studio. With a little scolding from Hobi that they were going to get cramps eating all these sweets, they were all very grateful.

-But Jin being the man he is made sure to stop in while you were working too. Mainly at night but on the random chance they got a break he’d come in the mornings and hang out in the kitchen, where you had been promoted to part time baker. Usually he brought you breakfast and coffee which you always scolded him for because you worked in a literal bakery but he’d just scold

you back claiming he hasn’t seen you eat a vegetable in weeks. And no it didn’t count if it was in a croissant.

-may or may not have told everyone he knows about the bakery and it may or may not have turned into an idol hotspot.

-don’t be too mad at him he just wants to support his girl😭

-outside of work for both of you guys Jin is pretty…quiet. You hadn’t expected it when you first started dating but that’s just because his guard was still up. Now that you’re happily settled into your relationship he doesn’t feel the need to be on around you. He doesn’t have to make you laugh,be world wide handsome or loud. He could be quiet and soft and wear cute pajama sets while playing his maplestory.

-sometimes he was so quiet in the house you forgot he was there. The world wouldn’t believe it if you paid them a thousand dollars but this knowledge was nice. Something that the world didn’t need to know, that you could keep for yourself.

For yourself and six other boys.

-they did have Jin first and honestly the first time you met them you always shit your pants. God they could be intimidating when they’re sussing someone out, especially Jimin. The hyung line liked you just fine but it did take a while to gain the Maknae’s trust. They’ve never seen Jin date or even think about dating so they were skeptical. Jin was the oldest and therefore a pseudo parent for the rest of the members, so you coming into the picture was different.

-but you’re you so how could you not win them over?

-the once hesitant maknae’s cling to your side whenever you’re at Hybe. Sometimes you swear you see them more than Jin.

“Y/n, let’s go shopping!”

“Y/n, have you seen x y and x?”

“Y/n, Taehyung hit me!”

And so forth.

-the hyung’s enjoyed your presence just as much. Yoongi was relieved someone else could take over as mom—he liked to joke that you two were the real parents of this band. Hobi would laugh at a bottle cap falling so you crack him tf up and namjoon our responsible leader is happy that his members are happy.

(He’s just trying to look cool, you two go on museum outings and have a book swap you do together)

Jin bits!✨tid bits about you and Jin✨

-every anniversary you guys start it off by having some form of vanilla cake in bed. His always with a candle on it.

-he always keeps a hoodie and a blanket in his car because this is not a kdrama and you are not getting a jacket because he’s cold too🙄

-you guys moved in together around your third year of dating, starting off in an apartment near myeongdeong for your job, but now y’all live in a house on the outskirts of Seoul

-if it’s not takeout, you most likely cooked the food for eat Jin. Can he cook? Yes. Does he cook when you’re around? Not unless you ask.

-you guys have so many matching pajama sets

-he cried when you said he wasn’t your bias. Fucking acting school😒

-you now own so much RJ merch it’s actually ridiculous and you asked him to stop bringing so many RJs home. The answer was no🤡

-after years of working your way up the ladder you own the bakery now! Jin wants to retire you because he doesn’t believe princesses need to work but you grew to actually the enjoy the job when you were no longer working cash register.

-his nickname for you is 공주님(princess)

NSFW

-idk y’all but Jin is giving me heavy experimentalist vibes. I think he’s less into the d/s side of bdsm and more into the bondage and the s/m side. He’s got clear limits but since your relationship is established and he trusts you so much he’s willing to try anything once within those limits.

-he also is the type to set the mood for these kinds of play. A spare room in the house with dark curtains,silk sheets and a chest full of all different types of things. He doesn’t really care who’s in charge in bed, that’s not really his aim. It could go either way for him.

-Jin’s kinda play is expensive. It’s nothing but the best for you, for both of you. He’s not one to flaunt his wealth but he’s always been a quality kind of guy. Your paddles? Leather,imported,small business. Your hand cuffs? Stainless steel and cushioned. Spanking bench? Cherry oak wood with velvet cushions baby. You’ve got matching harnesses in pink and white because of course something in here was going to be pink.

-he’s kinda just down for the ride. It’s that Sagittarius sun. You wanna tie him up? Cool. You want him to tie you up? Cool. You want to choke him? He’s down. His limits are around sharp pain and bodily fluids, besides cum because he’s very much so a much when prompted

-you better be ready though because when you get Seokjin in the right mood he is fucking until the sun comes up. This is usually when you’ve both been at an event—always his plus one—and there’s too many wandering eyes and not enough champagne. He’s surprisingly very possessive which you never would have clocked until it was prompted. So yeah he’s not one for sharing.

-he also does not breathe a word of your sex life to the boys or any other friend and he expects the same from you.

-lets just say that condom scandal held truth. because mans right here is packing the punisher. He got the back breaker, the cervix splitter 9000, you gotta be big and bad enough to ride this ride and you definitely are.

-as a trained actor one thing about Jin is he can embody a role. You want a mean dom? He can give you mean dom(after he’s done so so much research because he never wants to hurt you in a way that you don’t like). He can have you on the floor begging on your hands and knees tied to the leg of a chair like a mutt just to hump his shoe, when earlier that day homie was shuffling around the house in bunny slippers and an RJ headband. The duality with this one was crazy.

-he could also be tied up to the headboard of the bed begging you with tears in his eyes to just sink down on his cock and stop teasing him. Pretty pink harness on with pink padded cuffs to match. You know Seokjin and his love for pink, pink hair,pink microphone,pretty pink dick, just the basics yk?

-on the flip side if y’all aren’t in the play room, you’re getting your back blown out on your fluffy comfy king sized bed. It’s passionate, it’s sensual and it’s light hearted because one thing about Jin is he gonna laugh. One of you is gonna make a weird sound and he’s going to try so hard not to laugh, he really is, cause he’s balls deep and now is not the time but you guys make eye contact and it’s over. He’s fucking gone trying so hard to calm himself down.

Sometimes it ruins the moment but most of the time you’re able to pick up where you left off.

-all and all, Jin my first bias that wasn’t a leader, be throwing down in them sheets

[beybaldes]

a soft place to land

summer sleepover masterlist

roy kent x gn!reader

summary: “i’m never more at peace than i am in your arms.”

content warning : me once more deciding Roy’s sister is called Molly

an : technically a part 2 to ‘but never not sweet for the trust funds and punishers’ requested by the ever so lovely @onceuponaoneshotfanfic !! But can be read as a stand-alone fic too

Roy had never been good at emotions, let alone being comforted. He can remember being 8 years old and scraping his knee; he cleaned off the scrape and applied the plaster all by himself. And when Molly noticed the blue plaster covered in spaceships adorned on his knee and offered to kiss it better, like she could remember their mum doing for her before, he gave a very loud ‘no’ and ran right back out into the garden.

He just wasn’t good at it, at accepting the love people tried to offer him. At least, until you had come along.

Roy had been at Chelsea for approximately 5 weeks when he finally had the chance to meet you, his new neighbour, and even back then he’d been his gruff and gloomy self.

Roy had been at Chelsea for approximately 7 weeks when you showed up on his doorstep with a case of his favourite beer in hand and a bag full of takeout after barely having spoken more then two words to him.

“Regardless of if you’ve read the article or not, I’m coming in and we’re talking about it.” His face twisted in confusion, to which you pulled out a rolled up magazine from under you arm, the title reading in big, black font ‘Roy Kent; legend in the making and in the bedroom.’

“Some people will do anything for their five minutes of fame.” You’d scoffed, waiting for Roy to hand you two plates so that you could serve up the takeaway you’d brought over. “I hope you know this says nothing about you and everything about the shithead who sold out on you.”

Roy was silent the whole time, only grunting a response when it actually occurred to you to ask him if he even liked Chinese food; which, of course he did. You had to practically guide him to his couch and force him to eat, let alone talk to you about it.

“How are you feeling, Roy-o?” At some point, though Roy couldn’t remember when, you’d finished your meal and saddled up next to him, your knees pressed against his thigh as you sat facing him. “I mean, at best the whole of England knows you’re an absolute sex god. But i can imagine it’s not nice being on the front page of a magazine for gossip, or being sold out by whoever you were seeing.”

You finally elicited a response from Roy when you moved your hand to the back of his neck, settling your fingers in his hair which had him crashing back to reality and jumping away from you. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Um, comforting you? What the fuck does it look like you prick?”

And just like that, you’d worked your way into his heart and he knew he was never going to get you back out of it.

Despite that being years and years ago, Roy had only just reached a point where he would seek you out for comfort when he needed it. More then a decade on, he still had girls left, right, and centre fucking him, stealing from him and then selling the story of it to the press. And he still had you, waiting with open arms and a listening ear to make it all go away.

Like tonight, he was once again laying between your legs, his head against your chest and your fingers combing through his hair. This time though, there was no one night stand selling his sex stories or stealing his Rolex, he simply just wanted to be with you, in your arms.

“I’m never more at peace then I am in your arms.” He whispered. The confession was out of left field for Roy; he didn’t do soft. Well, you knew that wasn’t entirely true, he was always soft with you, even if it had taken you years to show him that was okay and convince him he didn’t have to wait for you to hug him first. But saying it instead of showing it? This was an entirely different realm of braveness for Roy. “I know I’m not the best at, talking, I guess, but you make life easier. Would stay here forever if I could.”

Tears threatened to cloud your vision and it felt like your throat was closing up. It was unbelievable, to see Roy become the person he had, from way back when he’d just arrived to Chelsea to now, at Richmond as a coach. It almost felt like you had an entirely different person before you. But you didn’t. His hair still felt the same when you ran your fingers through it, he still had the same deep and gruff voice and he still threw his head back with laughter and a wide smile every-time you watched stepbrothers. Roy was still the Roy he always had been, but now he was better at showing people that version of himself.

“Will do all that I can to keep you here forever, Roy-o.” You tilted his head back, keeping your hands cupping each side of his face as you leant forward, pressing a slow and soft kiss to his lips. They were slightly chapped and the scruff of his beard tickled your skin, and the hand that moved to cup the back of your head and keep you kissing him rid of the ounce of worry you had that you’d read too much into things. “I love you, Roy. I have for a long time.”

There was a long moment of silence between the two of you, but it didn’t worry you in the slightest. Whether or not Roy was able to say it, you knew that he loved you. The blush that coated his cheeks told you enough if his actions and words across the years hadn’t.

“Aw you’re blushing, you must love me.”

“Fuck off.” Roy turned his attention back to the tv, not containing the smile that pulled at his lips at the thought alone - you loved him. He intertwined his fingers with yours, pulling your hand to cup his face again and pressing a kiss to the inside of your wrist. “I love you too.”

[a-fic-reviewer-757]

Satan Wears A Rolex

by: AquaWolfGirl | word count : 212,741 | AO3 | chapters: 35/35 | rating : explicit

Summary:

An aspiring writer who’s moved to New York City from Arizona, Rey Kenobi gets an in at General Fashion Magazine thanks to her friend Finn, a photographer. Working under head copy editor Poe Dameron, she thinks she’s found her place in the journalist world. But when Kylo Ren, Editor-in-Chief, needs a new assistant, she finds herself thrust into the line of fire. She tells herself that, after this job, she can work anywhere she wants, including The Skywalker Report. But will she last that long?

Tags :

Modern AU | devil wears prada au | September Issue AU | Romance | Fluff| Slight Angst at times | Non-binary character | Gender-Neutral Character | Fashion World AU | Canon-Typical Character Outbursts/Anger Issues | Some Problematic Behavior | Stormpilot Included

Review : 💜💜💜💜💜

I’ve been in the Reylo fandom for a while now since the force awakens i’ve been here and never have I encountered a Reylo fic ( apart from love hypothesis if you know you know ) in which I liked the characterization of both Kylo and Rey so much. I love the relationship. I love how the writer embraces the fashion world in this AU . But I especially love their relationship how it can be very hot and smutty ( which I would put in the tags ), but I love the fluff and the angst is on another level so might be my favourite Reylo fanfic yet !

@aquawolfgirl your work is amazing !!

[carppediem]

I just came across this interview Käärijä gave for an Estonian magazine before the Tallinn gig and thought I'd share it with y'all! He talks about saving money to buy a house, why he quit drinking etc. Also, there are some new interesting things he said about Tommy 👀

Since the article is behind a paywall (and in Estonian) I've put a rough, heavily Google-assisted translation under the cut 👇

There are a few minutes left until the concert. How do you feel?

I feel great, but I'm a little tired because I didn't sleep well.

Did you have a party yesterday?

No party, I'm focused on the European tour. Yesterday was a live in Sweden, from there I flew to Finland at five o'clock in the morning and from there to here. But I'm one hundred percent ready for a show. It doesn't matter how tired I am, I give my best on stage.

You recently released the single 'It's Crazy, It's Party' with Tommy Cash. When Tommy met the members of the band Little Big, they drank a lot of vodka. What did you and Tommy drink?

Haha, I haven't had a drink with Tommy yet.

Not even a Pina Colada?

No. Maybe someday Tommy and I will have a drink, although I don't think he drinks much. And you know, I don't drink anymore either. I stopped drinking a month ago. I need to keep my energy up. When you give as many concerts as I do now, you have to take care of yourself. Drinking and performing hand in hand is extremely difficult both physically and mentally, not to mention how bad it affects the vocal cords. I had the biggest hangover of my life this summer, which put the brakes on my drinking. I went to a music festival with a friend where we drank too much. The next day I had to perform at the same festival. The hangover was so bad that I really didn't know how to get myself on stage with the terrible feeling and the summer heat. But I pulled myself together and did the show. This experience is also one of the reasons why I don't drink anymore.

What kind of person is Tommy?

He is a visionary and very witty - a lot of fun with him. And of course he's cute. I think we have something in common, like we both have our own style. Tommy surprises with crazy outfits: extraordinary hairstyles, extravagant clothing, which are complemented by boleros. In short, insane costumes.

After Eurovision, you started a real concert rally - you gave 51 concerts in the summer alone. Do you want to become a millionaire?

Of course I do! One day I will definitely be a millionaire. I don't keep track of how much money I have in the bank and how much I'm short of six figures. But yes, I'm trying to collect a million euros.

Will the goal be met this year?

No, not yet. It will still take a few years. I've had an insane amount of performances after Eurovision, because I was like a kid in a candy store who wants everything at once, but by now I've drawn the line because I can't perform everywhere. I also set myself a price tag, below which I will not allow myself to go anywhere. If you do 300 shows a year, you're screwed.

What do you spend your money on?

I don't just spend it on pretty things. I have a definite goal in mind - I want to buy a house in Finland. Maybe in the future also real estate in Thailand, we'll see. I don't need a Rolex or any luxury, I don't care about that.

What has been the most difficult thing for you since Eurovision?

Everyone in Finland now knows who I am. It's hard and tiring because I no longer have my own private space at all. I can't just go to the store, to a concert, or to a hockey game, people will immediately come up to me and start taking pictures. I hate when they don't politely ask for permission to do this, but immediately start clicking.

What has been the best?

It's great to see people hear 'Cha Cha Cha' and be happy. Or when they hear the name Käärijä and their face breaks into laughter - it's a powerful feeling. And of course to see how happy my family is about this achievement. And me too!

[vintageadsmakemehappy]

1959 Rolex advertisements

[humanpurposes]

My Heart Belongs to Daddy, part iii, modern!Aemond

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist // Can you read my mind? I've been watching you

modern!Aemond x step-daughter

Warnings: 18+, suggestive themes, nothing too crazy

Words: 4700

A/n: Also available to read on AO3.

The morning after the wedding she, Alys and Aemond met in the breakfast room of the hotel and had a perfectly normal meal. 

Perfectly normal. 

Alys had met someone from White Worm magazine at the wedding and was keen on discussing a possible partnership. Aemond didn’t seem particularly enthused, but he knew when to hum and nod as he sipped his flat white.

Even at 9am he looked immaculate. White shirt, hair freshly washed, a Rolex on his wrist and no bags or dark circles under his eyes. His eyes were fixed on Alys, sitting across from him, his expression was somewhat blank and perfectly normal.

A hangover pulsed in her head and her skin felt tight. She had about three mouthfuls of her eggs benedict before she felt like she was going to retch it all up again. She downed a glass of orange juice, hoping it would miraculously fix her. It didn’t.

They drove home in Aemond’s car. She sat in the back and kept her window down, which Aemond would usually insist messed with the AC, but he stayed quiet. Once they reached the house she grabbed some painkillers and a large glass of water and retreated to her room.

She downed the tablets and a few gulps of water before she collapsed on the bed.

She’d never considered herself much of a masochist and yet she spent the next few hours replaying the previous night in her head, switching between crying silently and whispering insults to herself. They mostly consisted of idiot and stupid cunt.

He couldn’t even do her the courtesy of an outright rejection. He just left her there, dazed in the afterglow of her orgasm with the feeling of his mouth lingering on every inch of her body.

She didn’t even know why she said it. She was sure she wouldn’t have if she had been sober. But it was done now.

Idiot. Why did she have to go and lead herself on?

She fell asleep before she noticed a text from Alys asking if she wanted to order something for dinner. 

On Monday morning, Alys was out the door at the usual time of 7am. She listened to the hum of her car s as it pulled out the driveway, and waited.

Aemond only goes into the office on Thursdays and Fridays. The other three days he’ll come to her room once Alys is gone and slip under the covers behind her.

He’ll run a hand under her t-shirt, gently feeling over her breasts and her stomach, before trailing his fingers between her legs to tease her until she’s wet and needy. He likes to fuck her nice and slow first thing in the morning, peppering kisses over her shoulders and whispering praises against her skin.

“So pretty… so perfect… so tight…”

She likes to feel his breath and hear his grunts and groans, especially when he starts to get restless with his own pace. He tries to hold back but his thrusts get desperate, voice breaking into a whimper as he pushes deeper and deeper.

“Good girl… you make me feel so good…”

She loves feeling his arm hold her tighter as she arches her back against him, until he can’t help but give into the hunger and the urgency. Fingers circling over her clit, hips rutting into her without mercy, both still a little delirious, lost in the heat and the need.

But her bedroom door didn’t open. There was no dip in the bed and no body pressed into her back. 

Good, she thought, it was already too warm in her room. To prove that point, she dragged herself out of bed and threw open the window. Her room was at the front of the house, looking out over the fields, water fountains and rose gardens of Queens Park, where Spring was slowly turning into Summer. The blossoms were gone from the trees and the air was mild.

She convinced herself to leave the room with the promise of an iced coffee, not before she brushed her teeth, sorted out her hair and changed into a clean t-shirt.

Aemond was in the hallway, fixing his cuffs in front of the mirror mounted over the dresser. He froze when she reached the bottom of the stairs, his gaze not daring to stray from his reflection.

She took a breath, maybe to say “good morning,” or “what the fuck was Saturday night?” She hadn’t decided and she didn’t have time to.

“I’ve got a meeting.” He still wasn’t looking at her.

“I’ll be home all day,” she said. Classes had finished weeks ago, but he already knew that.

“Good,” he said, throwing his suit jacket over his arm. He stood tall as he finally turned to face her. “You won’t be looking for a lift then.”

“No.”

“In that case, see you later.” He didn’t wait for a reply as he grabbed his keys and disappeared through the front door.

She wondered if she should cry, but she couldn’t force the tears to come. She thought heartbreak was supposed to be devastating, an indescribable and all consuming pain, but she just feels vacant. 

Other than that cold encounter, she hasn’t found herself alone with him since.  If she walks into the room he leaves before she can say anything, and that’s if he’s in the house. Lately he’s been going into the office more often and staying out in the evenings, meeting up with Aegon and Helaena, so he says.

When she wakes on Wednesday she opens her curtains to a cloudless sky. The sun shines brightly and by 10am it’s practically sweltering. She showers, massages moisturiser into her skin and makes a mental note of which readings she needs to go over for her thesis, when an idea strikes her.

It’s a desperate move really, but she can hear Aemond on the phone downstairs and guesses he won’t be leaving anytime soon for any unscheduled meetings or visits to the office.

She puts on a grey V-neck bralette that shows off her cleavage, pulls on a pair of denim shorts that hug her hips and ass nicely and sprays a sweet, floral perfume on her wrists. Then she reaches for a pair of sunglasses, a throw, a bottle of spf and the book that’s been lying on her desk.

The gentle hum of his voice is muffled through the frosted glass door to the kitchen. She can see his silhouette pacing.

He stops mid sentence the moment she steps into the kitchen. She doesn’t look at him as she walks past him, but she wants to imagine his jaw hanging open slightly and those pretty blue eyes going wide as she sways her hips ever so slightly and slides open the glass doors that lead out to the garden.

She lays the throw out in the middle of the lawn, a good distance from the house but where she’ll be in full view from the kitchen. She takes her position and lathers her limbs in the spf until her skin glistens under the sun. It’s an expensive bottle that smells like tropical fruits, mango, papaya and coconut.

She glances over a few pages of her book but it’s hard to read through the sunglasses and the sun is making her sleepy. So she lets her arms drop by her sides, closes her eyes and crosses her legs at the ankles. She focuses on the heat, her breathing and feeling where her body meets the ground.

It’s almost reviving, but there’s still that infuriating itch in her brain, that restless feeling in her chest. She wonders if he’s looking at her.

Her eyes flutter open when she smells cigarette smoke.

She turns her head towards the house, where Aemond is leaning against the glass door, a cigarette between his fingers, taking slow, long drags and exhaling grey smoke through pouted lips. It’s hypnotic. 

He’s wearing one of his nice shirts, pale blue, rolled up at the sleeves, the top few buttons undone but not enough to see the hair at the top of his chest. It’s quite a contradiction to the casual grey sweatpants hung round his hips, one he wears surprisingly well.

And he’s looking at her.

Fucking finally.

Are his eyes following the curves of her breasts through her top? Is he picturing dragging her shorts down her legs and kissing his way up her thighs? Does he wish he’d stayed longer that night? Does he wish he’d said it back? 

His chin drops, another puff of smoke billowing from his mouth. He flicks the cigarette away and goes back into the house.

She turns her gaze up to the sky and smiles to herself. 

On Thursday she convinces Joanna to meet her at the KLU library. Joanna is one of those people who likes to involve herself in everything and everyone. She’s the societies officer on the student union, takes three electives on top of her philosophy degree and knows most of the student body. 

They take full advantage of the weather and find themselves a nice spot in the courtyard that forms the heart of the KLU campus, eating overpriced sandwiches and drinking green juices while Joanna breezes through the latest essential gossip. Breakups, hookups and the like. She seems the most interested in Alysanne Blackwood’s very public breakup with her boyfriend at a houseparty over the weekend. But her explanations are shorter than usual.

“How was the wedding?”

There it is. The wedding that’s been all over Vogue and Vanity Fair and every outlet of social media. Everyone has an opinion on the Targaryens, and anyone would kill to be allowed the slightest look into their lives. 

She shrugs. “It was nice.”

“Nice? You got to go to the wedding of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen at the Red Keep and that’s all you can come up with?”

She tries not to roll her eyes. Maybe she could come up with a few better descriptions, but all of her memories revolve around someone she’d rather not think about.

“Did you meet any interesting people?”

She tells her about the dinner, seeing Jace, Luke and Joff again, and mentions in passing that she danced with Aegon and Cregan.

“As in Cregan Stark?” Joanna asks as they make their way to the library. She has all sorts of opinions of him already. He comes from old money up North and his family still owns an old castle called Winterfell. Joanna says he’s a “really lovely guy” and according to Floris Baratheon, he’s also a great kisser. “And an even better shag,” she adds.

The library is one of the oldest buildings in the city, four storeys with a beautiful Greek revival front, full of mazes of bookshelves, reading rooms and hidden corners. It’s packed, as is to be expected this close to exam season, but they find a desk by a window on the third floor, looking out over the skyline of central King’s Landing.

Her thesis is supposed to focus on the role of the Faith on Medieval politics in Westeros. Instead all she can do is stare at the empty space under her chapter titles, checking her phone every few minutes, not sure if she wants the minutes to move faster or for time to stop altogether. In two hours she manages 500 words. 

Joanna looks like she’s making good progress, typing away furiously, moving her head between her laptop and her pages of notes almost skittishly, like a squirrel. If she had any sense, she’d be more like Joanna.

Suddenly Joanna leans away from her laptop, stretching her arms over her head. “There’s a Masters fair happening downstairs, I was thinking about checking it out. Have you applied anywhere?”

She only just about registers what she’s saying, and drags her eyes away from the window. “Oh, no, I should probably get on that fairly soon.”

“You’ve still got time,” Joanna says.

“Yeah,” she mumbles.

Joanna taps her sharply on the shoulder. “Hey.”

“What?”

“You seem a bit off today. Are you alright? Like, really?”

She looks down to her hands in her lap, fingers twisting over each other and her nails pressing into her skin. She swallows and whispers, “no, I don’t think so.”

She doesn’t tell her the truth, not the whole truth anyway. She quickly improvises a story about a guy she met on Tinder, keeping the details vague. They met for a few dates, it seemed like they were getting on really well, and then he ghosted her out of nowhere and she’s been down ever since.

She leaves out that it’s her mum’s boyfriend, and that they’ve been fucking for just under a year. She also leaves out those stupid words that had sent him practically running from her hotel room.

“I think it’s the combination of stress,” she says, “you know how it is, exams, thesis and then this whole situation just… isn’t exactly helping.”

Joanna frowns. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Without missing a beat she says, “I don’t know, didn’t seem worth telling anyone.”

Joanna smiles sadly, rubbing her hand over her shoulder, probably to be reassuring. “Well, whoever he is, he clearly has no taste. Any guy should be grovelling on his fucking knees to have a chance with you.”

“Oh stop it,”

“I mean it! You’re too pretty to be dating a self-centred dick and too smart to waste your time moping over one.”

She raises her eyebrows. Joanna’s advice is surprisingly profound, something she might have realised if she wasn’t the one with the problem. “How do you know he’s a self-centred dick?” She asks, raising an eyebrow.

“He’s a guy. And all guys are self-centred dicks.”

“Spoken like a true philosopher.”

“What can I say? Aristotle wishes he was as smart as me,” Joanna giggles and goes to shut down her laptop. “Lets go downstairs and grab some brochures, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

It doesn’t take them long to breeze through the Masters fair in the ground floor hall. Joanna has already accepted a place at Vale to study law. They talk briefly with someone from Sunspear, but the stall for Oldtown catches her eye.

As the name suggests, Oldtown is the oldest city in the country, an impressive blend of old cobble streets, ancient buildings and newer builds alike, where the Honeywine river flows through the city and out to the Summer Sea. The University of Oldtown tops the league tables every year, boasts the best history programme in Westeros and even has links to the Citadel Research Institute. 

“Sounds ideal,” Joanna says, flicking through a brochure titled Student Life. “

She nods. It’s also the ancestral home of the Hightowers, and it’s where Aemond did his undergrad.

KLU have a stand too. Assuming her thesis and her exams go well, she’ll be guaranteed a place with a pass. She would already know her course leader and she wouldn’t have to move across the country which is starting to sound like a lot of unnecessary stress.

She listens to Joanna talk about her latest argument with her boyfriend as they head out the main entrance and into the early evening. She immediately recognises a head of black hair in the crowd of first years hanging out on the marble steps.

Cregan calls her name and waves them over to join them. Jace is there too and gives her a quick hug.

Once Joanna’s done introducing herself she goes to strike up a conversation with some of the others, giving her a quick nudge into Cregan’s arm as she goes.

He catches her as she stumbles against his arm, but they both laugh it off.

“Last minute cramming?” Cregan asks.

“What else at this time of year?” She says. “And you?”

“Not really cramming, just looking over my notes,” he says, so casually it sounds rehearsed. 

“Not nervous about exams then?”

“I’ve always been good under pressure,” he says, “and if they don’t go great I’ve got two more years to make it up.”

For a moment she can’t quite believe how quickly the last three years have gone. Freshers only seems like it was a few months ago.

She glances over to Joanna. She’s raising her eyebrows and smiles as Jace mutters something in her ear.

Cregan clears his throat and slips a hand into the front pocket of his jeans. “We were going for a few drinks now if you want to join?” He says. His eyes won’t stop moving over her face. 

“Jo!” She calls to her friend, and mimes drinking from a glass.

“Absolutely!” Joanna grins.

She doesn’t really get a chance to talk to Jace or any of the others because Cregan seems intent on staying by her side for the whole evening. She walks between him and Joanna as they make their way down Sisters Street to the Tudor front pub that’s especially popular with students. The interior is all black leather booths with a red tiled floor, a beautiful mahogany bar and all sorts of trophies and odd trinkets adorning the walls.

Cregan and Jace order the first round of drinks, and Cregan slots himself into the booth beside her.

She shouldn’t be impressed by it, but she likes that he asks a lot of questions. He asks her about the kind of music she listens to and what her favourite films are. Then he talks about politics and sport, two things he seems quite passionate about so she lets him ramble. She sips her gin and tonic and occasionally steals glances at Joanna, who’s getting just a little too close to a girl with red hair and a pale green blouse.

Then they reminisce about the wedding. 

“It’s a shame you left before I got your number,” he says. At some point his arm found its way to the back of the booth behind her.

She holds her breath for a moment, looking up at the intense look in his grey eyes. The only reason she hadn’t stayed longer was because of Aemond.

“Is it?” She asks with a small smile. The gin had left her mouth feeling a little numb.

“I think so, yeah.”

She holds out her hand. “Give me your phone.”

He’s very compliant and hands it over instantly. She smiles up at him as she types her number into a new contact. 

“There,” she says, “hope that makes up for it.”

“Only if you agree to get dinner with me sometime this week?” He says hopefully.

She can’t clench her fist because he’ll see. So she smiles again. “I’ll let you know.”

That seems like a good place to make an escape. She nods to Joanna and Cregan stands to let her out the booth. His aftershave smells clean and bright as he pulls her in for a hug. His arms are thick and muscular. Hugging him feels so secure.

He’s not as tall as Aemond. Aemond’s arms are lithe and toned and–

Not the time.

Joanna walks her to the station. One of the pros of dating a Lannister is that she lives with him and his brother in a penthouse right by the station.

“You and Cregan seemed to get on rather well,” she says, “but gods, I didn’t realise how good you are at keeping secrets.”

She doesn’t know what to say to that, so she doesn’t.

It’s sometime before 9pm when she drags herself through the front door and places her backpack at the foot of the stairs. There’s only one car in the driveway, Alys’ black Mercedes. She tries not to spend too much time thinking about where Aemond might be or when he’ll be back.

The kitchen smells amazing. Something rich and tangy simmers in a saucepan, while Alys, having ditched her work blazer but still as glamorous as ever in a black lace top and maroon dress pants, drains a generous amount of pasta over the sink. She smiles over her shoulder, but doesn’t ask why she’s home so late.

She leans over the counter and sends a quick text to Joanna: Home safe and such.

They eat in the dining room, Alys at the head of the table, as always. For the most part they sit in a comfortable quiet.

She almost leaps out of her skin when she hears the front door unlock and slam shut. Leather soles tap through the hall and stop at the doorway behind her. She looks at Aemond through the reflection in the mirror over the fireplace.

“Alright?” He mutters.

“There’s food in the kitchen,” Alys says, “and bring the bottle of red in.”

His eyes meet hers in the mirror. “Drink?”

She shakes her head.

Aemond comes back from the kitchen with the bottle in one hand and balancing two glasses in the other. He sits next to her. She can see his leg bouncing under the table.

He asks Alys about the partnership with White Worm and reminds her about the press release that needs to go out on Friday morning. This time Alys is the one making vague “hmms”.

“How was the library, love?” Alys asks suddenly.

She looks up from her plate. In the corner of her eye she sees Aemond leaning back in his chair, tapping a finger on the base of his wine glass.

“Good,” she says and takes an unsure breath. She can smell his aftershave. “Ran into Jace and some of his mates at the pub.”

Aemond’s finger stops moving.

“Oh that’s nice,” Alys says. “How is he?”

“Since Saturday? Not much different.”

Aemond’s not halfway through his wine when he stands up. “I’m going to have a shower.”

Alys looks up at him, entirely unimpressed by his announcement. 

She keeps her head down as she listens to him leave the room and head upstairs.

“You’ve been very quiet recently, love,” Alys says. Her concern tends to come out sharply, like an accusation. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“You can’t lie to me, darling. I’m your mother, I can read your mind.”

She desperately hopes that isn’t true. 

She shakes her head slightly. “I’m just stressed.”

Alys sighs and swirls her wine around in her glass. “Aren’t we all, darling.”

She wonders if it was the gin but her mind feels fuzzy and her eyes are closing. Once she’s finished her plate she brings it into the kitchen, says a brief “goodnight” to her mother and heads upstairs. She can already hear the shower running but the sooner she’s in her room the better.

Being in the same house as him is unbearable. She’s on edge constantly, careful of every word, every look, but still wanting, no matter how much she tells herself she needs to stop.

The door to the master bedroom is directly opposite the top of the staircase, on the corner by the bathroom. She keeps her eyes down but stops when she sees the door opening. Aemond steps out in nothing but a towel around his waist.

She keeps her eyes fixed on his face. She won’t look at the toned muscles of his arms, or the lines of his abs, or the light hair that trails below his navel. No.

He smirks, and steps back so she can walk past him. 

Her eyes dart to the floor. When she moves past him she’s sure she hears him hum, but it’s faint enough to ignore. She can smell his sweat and the traces of his aftershave.

She stops in front of her bedroom door, and looks along the hall. Aemond looks back at her, chuckles to himself, and closes the bathroom door.

“Smug prick,” she hisses.

She practically tears off her jeans and her crop top, desperate to crawl between the sheets and cry herself to sleep for the third time this week.

But her heart is racing. She can still hear the hum of the shower. She knows every inch of his body well enough to picture him, water trailing over his skin and breathing in the steam. 

If she walked into the bathroom right now and begged him to fuck her, would he do it?

Her phone buzzes and she doesn’t hesitate to look at it.

It’s from an unknown number: Dinner? I’m thinking Saturday?

Her thumbs hover over the screen. Joanna would tell her to go on a date with the hot, ruby-playing, politics student. Alys would probably say the same if she knew.

So on Saturday night she paints her nails red and slips on a black mini dress. She keeps her makeup simple, a little concealer, mascara, a shimmery eyeshadow and a tinted lipgloss that’s a little darker than her lips. Aside from the wedding, it’s been ages since she’s had a reason to dress up. 

It’s starting to get to her though. The closer it gets to 6:30 the more anxious she feels, even though she has no reason to be nervous. She knows Cregan, and he clearly likes her. She’s determined to enjoy her night. 

She grabs a black leather jacket from the wardrobe and heads downstairs, checking she’s got everything she needs. Phone. Wallet. ID. Headphones. Gum, just in case.

Aemond and Alys are in the kitchen. Alys is looking at something on her laptop while Aemond is standing over the stove, leaning on one hand against the marble countertop.

“You off?” Alys says brightly.

“Yeah.”

“Where are you going?” Aemond asks. 

She was going to try not to make eye contact, but he’s hard to ignore. His eyes are wide and his brow slightly furrowed. A silent fury that sends a chill down her spine.

“I’ve got a date,” she says.

Alys looks up from her laptop. “Oh? You didn’t say it was a date. Anyone interesting?”

“His name’s Cregan, he’s a politics student.”

Aemond’s eyes drop to the floor for a moment. When he looks up the look on his face is almost endearing, eyes wide with a hint of a smile on his lips. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

Her breath catches in her throat as he comes towards her, close enough that she has to look up at him. “How chivalrous of you,” she says.

“See you later, love!” Alys calls, her nails clicking furiously against the keyboard, as Aemond follows her out of the kitchen. “Let us know if you want a lift!”

Aemond takes a pointed breath that skims over her neck as they walk through the hallway. She pulls on a pair of black boots, grabs the spare keys and reaches for the front door.

But Aemond’s hand covers the handle before she can get there. He leans down into her. The tip of his nose is so close to hers. 

“Since when did you start going on dates?” He asks in a low voice that makes her feel weightless.

She glances back towards the kitchen. The frosted glass door is closed. “Since tonight,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“Hmm.” His eyes move over her face, and she’s sure he lingers on her lips before his gaze slips further, over the dainty gold chain on her neck and the teasingly low neckline of her dress.

He takes another step into her and brushes a hand over her elbow. Even through the thick fabric of the jacket she can feel him. 

His eyes move back to hers and he smiles. “I hope you have fun, baby.”

She almost flinches at his pet name, but before she can think to react he twists the lock and opens the door for her.

She stares at him for a moment. As much as she hates his teasing she can’t deny it excites her. “Thanks,” she huffs and goes to step out of the door.

But his hand closes around her arm and pulls her back into him. She braces herself with her hands on his chest. “What are you–” 

He leans into her and places a delicate peck to her cheek. “For luck,” he says, with his lips against her skin.

She wrenches herself out of his grip, marches down the driveway and doesn’t look back.

Joanna’s philosophy only seems more apparent. Self-centred dick.

A self-centred dick she can’t stop thinking about the entire walk to the station and on the train ride into central. She hears him in every song on her playlist and looks for his face in the crowds along Conquest Street.

When she spots Cregan standing outside the restaurant, cigarette in hand, she winces at the smell. In her mind it’s something that will always belong to someone else.

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