#she's the loml and clearly someone else's soon

[cherriimochi]

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Matsumoto Akira

17 years old

Second year student at Chigau Academy

[randomdragonfires]

I'm A Fire And I'll Keep Your Brittle Heart Warm [One Shot]

Text Divider by @saradika-graphics

SUMMARY | Flowers come to Aemond in multiple shapes and forms throughout his marriage.

WARNINGS | 18+; Mild Smut.

WORD COUNT | 9.6k

A/N | Yet another repost, yay! This one was written based off an ask sent to me by @wonderbias and beta read by the loml @humanpurposes

Their union began as a fragile, delicate one.

By all accounts, Aemond Targaryen was a fine man that any maiden in the Seven Kingdoms would be proud to be with, should he– a skilled dragonrider, a scholar, a respectful man of honor, a prince worthy of his name and blood– choose to take her to wife. 

If only he was not so stoic and dull, they said. The very jovial little lady of Highgarden will be bored of him in moments!

‘Twas the first of many whispers he heard of his apparent inadequacy with regards to his impending nuptials and marriage, and even though it killed him, he could not bring himself to disagree. The woman that he was to marry – the beautiful, kind, ladylike wisp of a girl that was to be entrusted to him– was a fair maiden who lit up any chamber she graced with her presence, a stark contrast to how he seemed to darken those that he stalked into.

Charming girl like that, she will hate him, they said. The poor thing is probably scared.

Every lady dreamed of chivalrous knights and charming princes, and Aemond knew very well that he was far from being either. They dreamed of charming men who would immortalize them in song, whose looks could thaw the hearts of the coldest women in an instant. Aemond knew very well that the Gods had refused him the chance to even try with her– what with their allowance of his mutilation at a tender, young age. 

Even with just one eye, he saw many possibilities but to his dismay, he did not imagine any outcome would be favorable to him. With the scar he carried on his face and the weight of the world on his shoulders, Aemond was never meant to be the man that his intended deserved. 

And so, he decided that he would keep her at arm's length and in consequence, save his pride. He'd reject her before she rejected him. He may not know it now, but matters of the heart are fickle– and to the utter disappointment of his pride, his little lady rose was very easy to love. 

He would not be caught dead pathetically pining after a woman who would soon be his. He would not.

And so, their courtship remained devoid of romance and scandal. His family was made privy to each of their highly appropriate conversations, with them taking turns in chaperoning their walks through the gardens. 

There was nothing that he wished to share, for he did not want to lose too much. He did what was expected of him, and she did the very same. Soon, there was respect, admiration, and a whole host of burgeoning feelings that Aemond tried hard to suppress - feelings that he clearly did not see in her eyes as she dared to look into his.

How could she feel anything for a stoic, dull, one-eyed man like him?

As he draped the red and black cloak over her shoulder and pledged to be her man of liege and limb, he told himself that he would not try. He would not give into fantasies, only to be met with rejection from a woman who was too good for him; one that may realize it soon enough as well.

After all, Aemond Targaryen had his pride. He would feed himself to the dragons before admitting to someone else being better than him, let alone be rejected by that same person. He was certainly not going to woo her, not when he knew that he would only be met with contempt and disgust.

It did not matter how badly he wanted to. He would not allow himself to succumb to such idyllic daydreams. He would not.

When night fell and the wedding feast was in full swing, his new good-father was the only one who could give his brother a run for his money with how deep he was in his cups. It was obvious how the wine-induced stupor affected the fat lord Tyrell as he bellowed for his daughter and his new good son to take the lead and join in the dancing and merriment.

Aemond was ready to retch at the thought, but what stopped him from making his irritation  clear was the possibility that she may want to dance. His wife. He had seen her dance before– as graceful as an otherworldly swan. She had a better grasp at frivolous courtly affairs than he did. 

His wife may want to dance. His wife, his wife, his wife. A little rose, his.

He shuffled his feet under the cloth-covered long table and allowed his one eye to train over his clothed boots. In spite of all the dancing lessons he had taken with Helaena, Aemond had never indulged before– and now, he was expected to entertain his bride each time a song played. The thought made him want to press his feet into the ground further than he already has, in hopes that perhaps the ground would swallow him whole.

His view of the dancing crowd had been taken from him by half along with his eye. Without the luxury of complete vision, he could not dance without bumping into everyone that was on his blind side. Now, he would have to– if she wanted to. 

He thought he could say no, but he feared that if he were to look her in the eyes, he'd never be able to. Perhaps that was why he had refused to even look at her throughout the ceremony, despite her many admirable– yet failed– attempts to catch his line of sight and share a smile.

It was her meek, mouse-like voice that brought him out of his nervous trance. “We do not have to," she said, the words falling out of her lips like a song.

“You like to dance, my lady,” he said.

“But you do not, my prince. It takes two.” Her surprisingly understanding words were followed by a timid smile, one that threatened to rip through his defenses and get to him.

In the crowded throne room, as his new bride sets aside her happiness to accommodate his preferences, Aemond worried that his self-imposed distance from her may not last too long if she kept offering him kind glances and sweet smiles– no matter how forced and dutiful he knew them to be.

He had much to lose; his pride, his heart. He would not risk it, even if she was seemingly easy to love. He would not. He would not. He would not.

After all, Aemond Targaryen had his pride. 

Soon after, her drunk nuisance of a father had called for the bedding. Aemond did nothing as his trembling bride was ushered away by the handmaidens and ladies, each of them wriggling her jewelry off as she stumbled in her steps before they carried her off.

Should he have asked for a private bedding? In hindsight, he believed he wronged her by throwing her to the mercies of the court in her vulnerability. Equally, he did not want to attempt a show of compassion– not when she may not even welcome it from the one-eyed fiend of a husband that she was stuck with.

When he walked into the chambers in his loose linen shirt and breeches, his breath hitched in his throat. Helaena had once told him that the Septas refer to women’s maidenheads as flowers. “Beautiful, ripe and ready for the plucking,” she had said, keeping her nose pointed upward in her imitations. He'd never given the words much thought. 

Until now.

There she was. His wife, his flower, his rose, ready for plucking, in her translucent white shift and now untamed hair, like a fae in a dream. How could she possibly be his? How could she possibly be happy with a man as monstrous as him for a husband? 

Her eyes, wide and fearful, flittered about his face, in his mind an expression of her repulsion. It pained him to think she did not even give him a chance.

But she was accommodating about my not wanting to dance… 

Perhaps she did like to dance; just not with him. 

These unsaid words and subsequent misunderstandings plagued their wedding night. Both believed the other did not desire them. 

That night, she offered her flower to him– as is her duty– and he took great care in taking it from her. He made sure she was pliant, so that when he took it, she would be as glad and thrilled as he was, regardless of how well-hidden his happiness was. 

He may have grimaced in disgust at Aegon's vulgar demonstrations and lessons about the pleasures of the marital bed, but he was thankful as he heard her moan out his name in a silent scream while she convulsed around his fingers. The silent sounds of her choked out moans and the heat engulfing his fingers may have very well been enough for Aemond to find release, and he reminded himself quickly that she will not want him when they're done. How could she, deformed as he was?

And so, he stopped wanting to be good for her, and simply endeavored to get it done with.

She was only more than willing to allow him to take her flower. If he was not so preoccupied with his own insecurities, he may have seen that it had gone past duty for her. Her loud moans proved the fact, and left little room for dispute (or doubt, in the minds of the prying ears that stayed close to the doors of their chambers, and the sharp eyes of the council who were now shuffling out of their seats).

He inched into her, and her tears and turned face only seemed to make it harder for him. Was he so beyond hope that she could not even look? What was it? Had he hurt her? He did not ask, lest he risk finding out that he was a disappointment. So he lost himself, drowned in his own head as he mechanically moved in and out, in and out, in and out. 

Duty. Duty. Duty.

If he had not been so preoccupied with tearing his own being to shreds in his mind, he may have heard her moans as the bright pink tip of his cock hit a rough spot in her, allowing her pleasures and experiences she did not believe she would ever know. He may have known that she desired him, just as he did her.

His self-deprecating thoughts couldn't have been farther from the truth– he may not have realized it that night, but he would soon enough.

Flowers came to Aemond in multiple shapes and forms throughout his marriage, and the first ever flower she gave him– whether she chose to see it that way or not– came to him on their wedding night, in the form of her maidenhead.

Tourneys were a time of celebration for her.

There was something to be said about the romance of watching men ask women for favors and fight with all the might and grace that they possess. She had often dreamed that a dashing knight or a courteous prince would perhaps approach her for her favor, and then perhaps crown her Queen of Love and Beauty. If she was lucky, the man would court her too.

The man she married was the antithesis of all that she hoped a tourney would bring.

Her husband was not a bad man by any means– no. He was a good and respectful husband, slightly removed and isolated for her outward nature, but she did not mind. There were worse men to be married to, and even if he never went out of his way to be there for her, he certainly treated her well when they were in each other’s presence.

She tried with him, Gods bless her. 

She would try to catch his eye at the supper table, or watch him train in hopes that he would meet her watchful gaze once or twice. She would watch in a sleepy haze as he woke early in the morn, long before she had the strength or consciousness to wish him a good day, hoping he would turn to do the same. He never did.

More often than not, a curt nod and a wavering glance was all she’d get.  Still there were brief, hopeful moments that kept her active in her pursuit to build a friendship with her husband.

She would have done something absolutely obnoxious— acts that would have him sneering if it was someone else– and she’d see it. That little hint of a smile, waiting to bubble through the surface, just by the corner of his pink lips, that she would have missed if she blinked. Each time there was a tenuous beginning of a hesitant smile, she felt a tiny sliver of hope.

He was not so intimidating to her now as he was in the initial days of their union– no. In a little corner of her mind, she acknowledged that fact– that is what helped her find his hand and hold it tight in nervousness, before she could even comprehend the intimacy of the act.

The knight who had just taken a harsh tumble from his horse was carried away by servants, with his head beaten bloody and hands hanging limp by his side. If she did not know better, she would have thought him dead.

The champion then raised his hands up in victory. Thunderous clapping sounds overshadowed all else around her, but she could not bring herself to join. She was still stunned by how the other knight had fallen, and was yet to let go of Aemond’s hand.

She felt the bile rise in her throat, so she brought her other hand to her chest and bowed her head down, a feeble attempt at keeping the vomit at bay. It was awhile until she managed to catch her breath again, and by then the celebrations had moved on from celebrating the champion to the crowning of his Queen of Love and Beauty.

The eldest Lady Baratheon smiled coyly as she received the wreath of winter roses, followed by a chaste kiss to her cheek. The crowd gasped at how brazen the act was, with neither of them being married, but the high of winning makes men do the most peculiar things, she supposed. In the back of her mind, regardless of how uneasy she felt, she wished– desperately. 

How she wished it was her. 

A childish fantasy really. What was a publicly gifted crown of flowers worth in the face of what she had? She was a Princess of the realm now, married to a skilled dragonrider from a family of illustrious history and blood. Any children they may have will be immortalized in the annals.  Nothing. A crown of flowers was worth nothing when compared to what she had– or at least, that is what she would tell herself.

And yet, she craved the romance. She had always enjoyed the idea of being loved and cherished. Her husband respected her, and if she was feeling bold, she’d say he liked her– but he certainly did not love her. That much she was certain of. When she naively wished that he’d crown her, she asked if he was going to enter the lists. He had sharply turned so quickly that she feared she had angered him.

“I don’t give a sh…” He had sighed before speaking again, as though he felt tested. “I do not care for tourneys.” The sharpness in his voice had hurt her, and she did not speak of it again.

Their marriage was a decent one– but it held none of the love she hoped to have, despite all her attempts.

Did he find her so disagreeable?

All of a sudden, his hand felt cold to the touch and she let go of him like he burned her. The heat came back to her hand just as it showed on her cheeks, and his had turned cold from having lost her touch so abruptly.

“I’d like to get some fresh air, husband,” she said, and rose before he could even ask if she needed him to accompany her.

Her quick walk took her to the tent where the court ladies had been sitting, and she had stepped in right in time to hear them gossip– about her husband.

“Well he must keep it on while they… you know! It can be jarring to look at, I’m sure it is!”

“It must be terrible to see it up close all the time. I can hardly look at him from across the chamber!”

He is certainly unnerving. It does make you wonder though, do you think they actually…” the woman lowered her voice to match the vulgarity that was to follow. “Do you think they actually fuck? She cannot possibly want to, and she is not with child either…”

“Well, does it really matter if she wants to? He’s a Prince, and her husband. He’ll take his pleasure regardless.”

Regardless of where she and her husband stood, she would not stand for their marriage to become fodder for court gossip. If she stayed quiet for any longer while these empty-headed women berated her husband, she would be insulting him herself.

“Might I ask what is so amusing?”  she said with sharp eyes and a tilted head. The sweat on their faces upon her arrival was apparent, and so was their nervousness.

“My Lady, we were just–”

“Princess,” she corrected.

“Yes of course, Princess. We were just–”

“Making presumptions about my marriage?” 

“No… we just…”

“Don’t deny it,” she seethed, anger looking completely foreign on a soft, comely face like hers. Her nostrils flared and her nose went red in her current state, but there was no way she could stop now. 

“The next time you feel the need to comment on such matters , perhaps you will all learn to remind yourself that he is a Prince of the realm and I am his wife! There will be suitable punishment, and you will all be dismissed from court at my pleasure, disgraced and husbandless. Now, we wouldn’t want that, would we?” Her words were cutting and sharp, and they had the younger ladies bowing their heads in fear almost immediately.

“I’ll have you all know that unlike the other men of the court, Prince Aemond’s scar came to him along with the largest dragon in the world. His bravery only makes him more handsome to me.”

She then fixed her attention onto the married lady of the bunch and delivered a questionable blow that she would certainly feel bad about later. “If you’ve been led to believe that the man takes his pleasure from his wife even if she does not want to, then perhaps your marriage is a lot worse than I thought. Your husband must have no regard for your wants, unlike mine. And for that, I am truly sorry.”

She did not wait for them to respond as she gathered her skirts and walked out of the tent, feeling largely annoyed and satisfied to an extent. But as she began her walk back, the fear of news of her anger reaching her husband hit her like a harsh and heavy wave.

Would he call her insolent and disgraceful? Has she damaged her marriage more than it already has been?

She did not have to wait long for her answer, for Aemond had been just a few steps behind her, watching the entire scene unfold. The angry flush on her face left her as quickly as it had come, replaced by a skittish nervousness that led to her shuffling her feet as she stood before him, at a complete loss for words.

She swallowed the spit gathering in her mouth, throat bobbing as her head remained facing down to the floor, awaiting a scolding from him for her absolutely inexcusable behavior; her husband was a man who knew his courtesies, after all. He could not possibly be happy with how she carried herself and disappointed him.

“You do not look well. Let me walk you to our chambers,” was all he said before he led her away with a hand on the small of her back.

She remained worried that he was perhaps leading them to privacy and silence so he could punish her while being undisturbed. She could not have been farther from the truth.

She expected him to scream at her, forget all the courtesy that he had shown her and throw his words at her without care. What she was not prepared for, was for him to hold her chin between his thumb and index fingers, pulling her face up to meet his.

He curiously inspected her, almost as though her little show of anger thoroughly amused him. She would not be surprised if it did– she had never been so outward in her anger in the two months that they had been married; this was a completely new side to her that he was now privy to.

“What was that, wife?” His words were measured and cut. 

“They…” She was stunned to find that, despite her tongue becoming loose in moments of anger,  it was hard for her to speak right now. So, she chose to gulp once more and tried to look someplace else. The uncertainty in his sharp, one-eyed violet gaze was becoming too much for her to bear– but Aemond did not give up easily. He kept her head held in place as she desperately waited for the words to come to her.

“They were being crude, and insulting you.”

He looked at her for a moment, his sharp gaze refusing to waver as the sunlight pierced through the glass windows of their chamber. He then let go of her, and handed her a goblet of wine to calm her clearly unsteady senses. He watched as she took little sips from the chalice, the restless turning of the wheels in his mind apparent on his face. 

Soon after, he made up a sham of a reason about having to leave when the cheering crowds became louder and louder. She nodded and continued to sip, completely oblivious to the change of heart that her husband was having as she wondered why he brought her back to their bed.

She did not know the thoughts that now ran fast and surely in his mind. She did not know that he thought his eye had cost him a chance at a happy marriage with her. She had no idea of knowing how conflicted he felt at the new realization, for his sculpted face gave nothing away.

He turned to face her with a hand on the door.  “Thank you,” he mumbled.

She nodded and smiled meekly while he stalked back to the festivities.

He held his hands tightly behind him as he tried to make sense of how light his heart felt in comparison to the rest of him. 

Back in the chamber, she blushed. For all her worry that he may have been disappointed, she had been completely floored by how he had responded– he was thankful. She berated herself for not considering the possibility– and smiled at the realization that for all her husband’s prowess as a warrior, in times like these,  he needed a champion too. 

That night, Aemond burned the midnight oil while reading in the library, trying to still his racing heart and make sense of how it leapt at newfound thoughts of his little wife. 

Across the Holdfast, in the soft candlelight of their shared chambers, she sat on her husband’s dear chair, looking at her handiwork– an embroidered silk tourney favor, with a little rose.

Her husband may not care for tourneys, but making the favor allowed her the luxury of thinking that should the possibility of him willingly entering the lists come around, he would do so with her gift on his lance. Mayhaps he would crown her Queen of Love and Beauty too– the thought makes her blush.

She would give it to him should he ever choose to partake someday. Until then, it would be safely hidden away in her shelves, amidst her gowns and other possessions.

Flowers have came to Aemond in multiple shapes and forms throughout his marriage, and the second flower that was intended for him– despite the fact that she was yet to give it to him– came to him on the day of the the twins’ name day tourney, in the form of a rose, embroidered onto a tourney favor. 

They have come to enjoy each other's company.

Her coming to his defense while expecting nothing in return had lit a fire in Aemond that he could not seem to quell. What he believed she had rejected him over, she had actually taken to being proud of. What he had believed was his one big, obvious and visible fatal flaw, was something that she had taken to holding in high regard.

I’ll have you lot know that unlike the other men of the court, his scar came to him along with the largest dragon in the world. And his bravery only makes him more handsome to me.

Her words rang in his mind like the definite tolling of the Great Bell at the Royal Sept. With each chime, her assertiveness on the matter came back to linger in his thoughts, he had fallen for her – bit by bit. 

Feelings had always been a conundrum to Aemond, one that he did not entirely understand or even want to. But now, with a wife who warmed him and his heart slowly but surely, with her lovely smiles and nervous face, he found that he would like some certainty in the face of all that was uncertain in his heart.

He did not know if he loved her just yet. But what he did know was that, at the pace that she had set for them, it may be a very short while before he does. His wife. His wife, his wife, his wife. 

His, his, his.

Coming to terms with having a wife that actually desired his company– and him, surprisingly enough– had spurned his attempts to bring some sort of intimacy to their marriage. Gods knew that she had tried, only to be rebuffed rudely by him in the initial days of their marriage. It was a time that he now felt deep regret and shame for, one that he would not rest until he had made right. 

He needed her to see that he wanted to try.

He did not know how to be the charming prince from a bard’s songs. He did not know how to make women laugh like Aegon; be as sweet and kind as Helaena; or as chivalrous and perfect as Daeron. 

But what he did know was respect. Aemond understood respect as something that was earned by everyone around him, but to his wife, it should have been unconditional. It should have come to her the day he had cloaked her and made her his– but it did not. Now, he intended to make it right.

He needed her to see that he wanted to try– which is how he found himself with her on his arm, as they walked hand in hand through the corridors of Maegor’s Holdfast towards their chambers. Ah yes, hand in hand. Another one of the little joys that he savored like it was his last day alive. 

Their initially cold marriage had also been fueled by his blatant refusal to simply be near her, much less touch her. Why would she have wanted to be touched by a one-eyed monster, such as the likes of him? 

But the moment he realized that she did not consider him so– not in the least– led to a warmth seeping through his blood, making him crave her so much that his heart hurt. If she did not mind it, why must he not exercise his liberties? And if there was some joy to be derived from it, why would they not want to indulge?

And so he had begun. A stolen touch here, a featherlight graze there. 

His huge, calloused hand, seemed to be always holding her dainty one as he accompanied her throughout their time in the castle; on the small of her back as they maneuvered through feasts and dances; around her waist as they closed the distance between each other in their sleep, with her back to his chest; clutching onto her thigh to keep her in place for when she turned around and draped her tiny leg upon his waist.

His hands, all over her.

It was not just these fleeting, quick touches that Aemond had grown to enjoy. With their bond growing stronger with each passing moment, he had realized that their marital duties were simply not duties anymore. They had gone from believing that the other had tolerated their presence, to trying their level best so that the other would know how much they desired them. The growth of their marriage was evident in how their carnal indulgences had evolved.

Where he had held himself to hover over her so as to not facilitate any unnecessary touches, he had now taken to covering her entire being with his own. His hands around her hip as he pounded into her; her hands on his chest as the tip of her fingers grazed and pinched at his nipples. His hands in her hair as he mouthed at her heaving breast; her hands around him as she held onto him as tightly as she could, never wanting to let him go. His hands on her cunt as he drew peak after peak from her before thrusting himself into her; her hands around his cock as she pumped him before impaling herself by straddling him, just the way he liked. 

Their sounds of pleasure had been held back and muffled in the beginning, but now they were uninhibited sounds taken by the wind, made with the intent of being heard and making desires known.  

Oh yes, their marriage had grown. 

This is what Aemond had been pondering as he led her through, with servants making their way for the young prince and princess as she held onto her husband with one hand, and a piece of rolled parchment and some charcoal on the other. He enjoyed their touches now, and it made his heart soar that he did not have to doubt her want for him either. 

Yes, they could make something out of this.

“How was your time in the gardens, wife?” It made him happy that with the growth of their marriage, she had taken to exercising her liberties. So, when she had come to him requesting charcoal and bound parchment so she could begin drawing again, he was only happy to oblige. 

“Good. I managed to sit and watch the flowers flit about in the wind for a time, and I drew a bit as well. Then the court ladies came to join me as they…”

Aemond listened to his wife as he sat himself on his chair by the hearth, most intently, and with the utmost concentration that he could muster. He could not bring himself to make selfless romantic declarations of love, or speak to her more than he was able. But he could listen, and that is what he would do. 

Not a word unheard, not a moment missed. He needed her to see that he wanted to try.

She prattled on and on about her day, and how the court ladies had gossiped about each other when they thought the other wasn’t listening. He listened to the way her voice heightened when her recollections were happy, and he noted the way she frowned when she was in disapproval. He observed how her eyes widened at shocking narrations, and how her hands seemed to move like they had a life of their own. 

He kept observing, losing himself in his newfound knowledge of her, her, her… and it was not until she stood close to him, her body slotted between his legs as she held her hands behind her back that he realized she had stopped speaking.

“Go on.”

He did not expect to be given something, not when his name day had just passed. But that is exactly what happened. 

“For you,” she said. With her raised eyebrows and coy smile, she managed to place  a parchment roll into his hand. Aemond made note of how her head faced down and her feet shuffled as she stood in wait for his approval.

He unrolled the parchment, careful to not cause even a stray tear at the edges. His eyes raked over the drawing, one of clear skill and years of training of the highest level– one befitting a lady.

“I shall treasure it, thank you.” 

She smiled at his acceptance, and he nodded. He was not a smiling man, but he hoped that she knew how much he appreciated these gestures. He hoped that their marriage had grown enough for her to notice his quirks, just as he had made note of hers.

Flowers came to Aemond in multiple shapes and forms throughout his marriage, and the third flower that she had given him was a charcoal sketch of a rose, into which she had poured her heart and soul.

As the days passed, their mornings became brighter.

While she had hoped that the initial days of their marriage would have some semblance of love, and if not, at least affection to some extent, her hopes had been quickly dashed with the closed off and curt behavior that her husband seemed to have made his own. Neither did he ever wish her a good morrow upon sunrise, nor did he kiss her goodnight like in the songs.

But now, there was more.

Where there was coldness, there was now warmth. It was not heat, not like wildfire, no– it was warmth, like from the calm blaze of their hearth. She might not have awoken to a smile, no– her husband was not a smiling man– but she always woke to an arm snaked over her breasts, pressing into her. Where there was distance, oceans between them, there was now a shared intimacy, one that they had both been quietly happy about. She was not put to sleep with a kiss, but whenever she slept on the chaise waiting for him to arrive, he now ensured that she was put into comfortable clothes and carried to their bed with care. 

He may not have cared for her in the beginning, but she knew he did now. Her husband was not a romantic man, but his small gestures were enough to make her feel happy and content.

The shift in their dynamic was not just visible in their daytime activities, but in the passions of their marriage bed as well. On the first night that they had coupled, he had been careful, experimental, doubtful. But as the days went by, he had become surer, rougher… insatiable.

She enjoyed this new side to him. She enjoyed being the woman that belonged to a fierce prince, the one that he so clearly desired. She enjoyed being held by him as he moved her up and down his cock, his head buried in her breasts as he breathed in the heady smell of sweat and sex. She enjoyed being impaled by him, her small body being split into two, all while having him whisper words of appreciation in her ears. 

My little wife, my little flower. Made for me… only for me, he would say. Tell me who this cunt belongs to, he would growl, hands slapping her little nub over and over until she caught her breath, found her voice again and appeased him.

You! Gods… to you, my prince, she would whine, holding his hand in place, hoping he would fuck her with his fingers once more, just the way she liked.

It came as no surprise to her that ever since they had become welcome to each other’s affections, they had been a lot more active in their marriage bed– so much so that the lewd moans and loud curses had become court gossip.

When she had addressed the matter with him once soon after they had fucked, Aemond had smiled, albeit darkly– the only kind of smile that suited him. Dragons do not concern themselves with the opinions of sheep, he had said. His insinuation that she was now a dragon too, all while his warm breath fanned her neck and his large hands squeezed her backside, was all she needed to quell her worries.

And of course, as was the natural order of these things, she was now with child.

She had been overjoyed when she had found out, and a tad relieved too. The court ladies whispering about her womb was not something she appreciated– their assumptions about her being barren, even less. So when she found out, she insisted that she be the one to break the news to her husband– her time as an expectant mother would never completely be her own, given the station she had now married into. 

But this, this moment could be hers and his. It would be theirs alone.

And so, she sat in wait at the training grounds, watching him as he expertly maneuvered his sword and slashed at his mentor, Ser Cole. Dodge, lunge, slash. Dodge, lunge, slash. Dodge, lunge–

Ser Cole had bested him, having noticed the predictability in his movements. Aemond of course, being the headstrong man that he was, refused to give up. The anger in his face at being won over in a fight did not escape her, and she would be lying if she said it did not awaken desire in her once more. Before she could think further however, one of the lords in the audience had piped up. 

“Perhaps the Prince would benefit from a token of luck from his dear lady wife!” He said, and the watching crowd around them seemed to agree as they cheered and whistled. Aemond was flummoxed, not knowing how to cope with being faced with the topic of his wife while in the middle of a fight. It was only then that he noticed her, red-faced and smiling as she was– before he could say anything, she had taken the lead.

“I’m afraid I’ve come empty handed, my lord. I’ve nothing to offer him right now!” She quipped with a smile. It had warmed him to know that she was jovial enough for the two of them, allowing him the luxury of staying quiet as she became his champion during situations like these.

“Ah well, he knows you’re here now, Princess! If that does not add to his fire, I do not know what will!”

Perhaps it was her presence, or it was his own prowess as a swordsman. But Aemond was quick to come through this time around. The crowds cheered for their Prince, and so did the man who had taught him to be all that he was.

“Well met, my prince,” Ser Cole said. He patted her dragon prince on his shoulder and walked over to where the swords were arranged. Aemond quickly followed in reverence to his teacher, one that he did not freely give to most. Soon after, the crowds had dispersed, and she watched as his slender, tall form stalk towards her.

“Since when do you frequent the training grounds, wife?”

“Can a wife not seek her husband out when she wants to?” 

She could not have imagined rhetorics like these tumbling out of her mouth in the initial days of their union. But they were now closer than they had ever been, and she had discovered that it would not hurt to take initiative, especially given how quiet of a man her husband could be.

He was not the charming prince from the books or the songs, but she certainly loved who he was– inquisitive, considerate and respectful.

“Hm. Perhaps.”

Their walk back to their apartments was a slow and quiet one, with her knowing that he preferred his moments of quiet soon after his training. They soon settled into the solar, with the food spread out for them to break their fast.

As was his habit, Aemond stripped himself of his clothes as she checked the water in the tub with the tips of her fingers, water rippling as her hands moved. He was quick to step in and let his hands rest on either side of the tub, his legs ramrod straight but slowly loosening up as she ran a washcloth over him with a gentle softness that is most unlike him.

Her hands glided over his chest, arms and he caught hold of her when her hands moved to clean his neck, beckoning her to come closer. “My dutiful little flower, hm? Come to assist her husband and answer his every beck and call.”

“I am nothing, if not dutiful.” She said, playful smile teasing him as her breasts threatened to spill out of the neckline of her dress– causing his cock to half-harden at the sight. She kissed his cheek and set the washcloth down, hands traveling to his alabaster hair as she ran her fingers through it, allowing her wet hands to trudge through. When she was done, he was quick to pull at her hand from his side, causing her to bend to meet him, eyes to eye.

“You have a council meeting to get to, husband. Now is not the time.” 

She knew very well what he wanted. It was what she wanted too– which is precisely why her own protests meant absolutely nothing to her as she gave in, dress riding up to her thighs and billowing wet in the water as she straddled him. Her cunt was already soaked for him, and he was hot and ready from all the energies that training seemed to have put into him. She rocked her hips forward and backward, adjusting to his girth, while sighing and breathing at the feeling of having him in her. It did not matter how many times he’d taken her, she would never get used to feeling so full. 

Soon enough, he had her held harshly by her waist in a bruising grip, his teeth nibbling at her sensitive nipples as he moved her up and down, up and down, up and down. The water crashed out of the tub like waves crashing onto shore and she was quick to fall apart in a mix of pain and pleasure, moaning his name in her broken voice, followed by a silent scream. His release followed soon after, cock twitching in her as he drew her closer, closer and closer still. When she felt his cock soften after a time, she got up and he let her, following close behind. 

“You fought well today, husband.” She said, in a feeble attempt to coerce a conversation from him as they sat at the table. He was a man of silence, and she was not. He did not prefer it, but she would try anyway - because there were times when he indulged her.

“Hm. Thank you.”

The smell of cut fruit was intoxicating to her, more so than usual. She had heard of women craving peculiar kinds of food during their time as expectant mothers, so she supposed that this may have to do with the little dragon that she now grew in her belly. The rest of their time eating moved in a swift silence– a comfortable one. The only sounds they heard were of the servants in the corridors and the birds chirping from out the window.

When they finished, the trays were taken away and he got up, ready to leave to sit in on the council meeting that his grandfather had called him for. He was halfway out the door after nodding to her when she took his hand, and he stopped.

Her hands held onto his as tightly as they could, and she was skittish as she continued to look down at the floor. By now, he knew her quirks well enough to know that she did that only when she wanted to say something.

“Go on.” He urged her as his other hand reached for her too.

She drew in a sharp breath as she bit her lip. “I… I am with child, husband.”

She did not know what to expect from him of her news– but his silent sigh and slight smile as his hands reached down to cover her belly in his hold is enough of a reaction. “Thank you,” he said, his gratitude and happiness made obvious– to her, even if not to anyone else. She did nothing but smile as his forehead met hers in a soft touch– their touches were always passionate and rough while in the privacy of their chambers, so it was peculiar for her to be treated this way. She found that she enjoyed it, just as much as she enjoyed being roughly handled by him.

She then stretched the fingers of one hand, revealing a little silk patch, a little tourney favor with a rose stitched on it. A flower, from his little flower.

“I know you do not prefer tourneys, but… it is my hope that you would at least keep it with you while you train.”

His hands ran over the soft silk, fingers tracing the intricate patterns that she had clearly taken her time with. He was quick to smoothen it out and pocket it, following it with a kiss to her lips. 

“Thank you, for everything.” 

The favor was only meant for the training grounds. But a week later, when she found it peeking out of his pocket while they walked around the gardens, she smiled. Soon, she found out that he kept it with him all day.

Flowers came to Aemond in multiple shapes and forms throughout his marriage, and the fourth flower that she gave to him, came to him in the form of a favor with an embroidered rose, one that he kept on his person at all times.

There was something to be said about the comforts of silence.

Her husband was not a smiling man, nor was he an ardent conversationalist. Being a woman who leaned towards being both, she had begun their marriage with the intent of treading lightly, lest she annoy him or risk having him dismiss her halfway through. And she did try; Gods knew that she did. 

Royal marriages were a sacred duty– those held in its sanctity would have to hold themselves to a higher standard, no matter how much it hurt them. With that being said, she was eternally thankful for Aemond understanding her preferences and trying to meet her halfway. She had been prepared for a man who would coldly dismiss her and her wants, but she had not been prepared for one that would actually want her.

One of the greatest pains of being born a noblewoman, she supposed, was that happiness in itself, was a privilege– one that she wished was not as such. She wished for it to be an easy thing to have, and as such, understood that she had been blessed with a quiet and peaceful marriage - one that did not take from her more than she was willing to give. It did not matter how many times she thought it over– she never failed to be as grateful as she was at the first realization, many moons ago. 

These were her thoughts as she accompanied her husband in the library. Aemond sat opposite her, on the other side of the table with his finger running over the texts of the Summer and Winter Annals, deeply engaged in the knowledge that the book had to offer on the now lost Kingdom of Sarnor, once a famed trade partner of Valyria. 

The fresh assortment of flowers lay haphazardly on her side of the bench, while she worked towards entwining them all onto the coir to make a crown. She often stole a glance at her husband as she repeatedly adjusted herself on her seat, one that was bigger than her usual one - to accommodate her, and the babe that she now carries. 

An heir, a royal heir. There is dragon blood in you now, he had said. 

She felt it, what with her babe’s constant reminders - boy or girl, the kicks were hard and swift, and it never failed to take her by surprise.

Aemond was a very fast reader, she gathered. His pages turned a lot faster than hers did, and his eyes never stuck to one part of the parchment for long - they flitted about and were restless, aiding him in his desire to learn as much as he can in the least amount of time. They have been married for half a year by now, and yet she manages to learn something new about him every day.

Her deft fingers worked through the stems of the flowers, piercing the sharp ends of the coir through them. In and out, in and out, in and out, she went - establishing a pattern that she ended up memorizing, whether she was cognizant of it or not.

Aemond stood up as he noticed a guard waiting near the doors, summoning him on behalf of the King. Her crown was now completely done, and she admired her handiwork as she twirled it in her finger and smiled. Aemond was now speaking to the guard as she ran the tip of her fingers over the petals. She brought it closer to her nose to smell them - the flowers were not as fragrant as they were once before, but there was a faint scent that she adored. 

He nodded, and she could not help but smile again as he approached her. It struck her harder with each moment, how the Gods had blessed her with him - him with his infinite knowledge, calm disposition and otherworldly beauty. She wondered if the babe she carried would look like him - she hopes, hopes and hopes that they would.

He took the crown of flowers in his hands and handled it with the same care that she put into making it. It looked thoroughly out of place, yet so at home in his hands - much like herself.

A mildly happy lift at the edge of his lips caused a sharp dimple - one that made him look harsh, content and menacing at the same time. She may have wished for a Prince from the songs all the moons ago - but right now, she could not help but think that she had been blessed with someone greater, even if she knew that he did not believe it himself. 

He placed the crown atop her head, crowning her. She remembered wishing he would crown her Queen of Love and Beauty at the twins’ name day tourney - but at this moment, as his fingers glided over her smooth hair to set the crown of white roses into place, she was happier than she could have ever been at any tourney.

“Escort the Princess safely to our chambers,” he ordered, after rubbing her growing stomach and giving her a kiss on her temple before going to meet the King. She stood slowly, and noticed that one unused and withering flower had been left behind. The air from outside the castle gushed through the windows, and it was purely by instinct that she grabbed it by the stem and placed it inside the pages of Aemond’s book before the pages flew - so it would be marked and he could begin where he left off if he so wished.

Long after her exit, Aemond came back to his bench after finishing his meeting with the King. He noticed the protruding stem, and he could not help but feel the warmth coarse through his chest as he opened the tome and found the withering flower pressed inside.

Flowers came to Aemond in multiple shapes and forms throughout his marriage, and the fifth flower that she gave to him came to him in the form of a dried rose, one that he kept tucked safely inside his favorite book.

It was moments like these that made Aemond believe in anyone but himself.

Being able to love someone blindly was not a gift that Aemond ever found himself capable of giving. Ever since the loss of his eye, he had grown to be full of spite and resentment, believing that having his dragon was enough to make the loss of company around him worthwhile. Nobody knew how to speak to him anymore– how does one comfort a boy who could only see half the world around him?

And then, she came to him. His wife.

With her free smiles and open heart, she had made her way through into the center of his. He found that he preferred her there, where she belonged. She had made her home in his heart, and he marveled at how despite not matching up to her in any way that mattered, she had found it in herself to allow him to take shelter in hers.

It brought him shame to think of how they could have fallen in love much sooner if he had been open to her affections and not been so wrapped up in his own presumed fallacies. But with time, he learned that in a world where marriages remained cold until the bitter end, a late bloom of happiness was a gift that he should learn to treasure.

It is a girl. Do not ask me why I believe so, husband. I simply do, she had said.

The tomes say a bigger belly is indicative of a boy. I read it, he had countered then.

He stood corrected. Aemond would tell the entire realm that his worldly knowledge did not stand a chance against his wife’s intuition– the little girl he held in his arms was enough support for his claim. 

She slept soundly in his arms as he sat in his chair by the hearth. His wife, tired from her taxing labors, had taken to sleeping through most of the last three days, and he had not left his daughter’s side, not once.

He held her head as his mother carried her for the very first time, eyes shining in joy as she thanked them both for making her a grandmother once more. There were very few things that gave Alicent Hightower joy, and watching her children have babes of their own was one of them.

He rested the tip of his fingers over her smooth and frail silver hair as his grandfather took a good look at her, allowing himself a moment with his guard down. Aemond had not seen his grandfather look at anyone with such  reverence, not unless it was Helaena, Jaehaera or his own mother. And now, Aemond suspected that his grandfather, for all his cold demeanor, did have a soft corner in his heart for the women of his life.

He had towered over the crib as the twins took turns gawking at her, after spending hours begging to see their new cousin. Aemond brought them after they promised to not make too much noise– both mother and daughter were fast asleep. Jaehaera had asked him if she could braid her hair when she grew some, and Jaehaerys poked at the new babe's nose (her mother's nose) with his thumb in curiosity. Aemond laughed, for he was intrigued by her too– only, it was better contained.

He held her tightly to his chest with his hand over her head as Aegon came to meet his newborn niece– completely sober and bathed, upon Aemond’s threats of murder if he came anywhere near his babe with his foulness. He smiled as he dropped the little dragon toy in her crib, looking over at the exhausted mother who could barely keep her eyes open. Aemond’s one eye followed his brother’s then, and visibly softened at the sight of his wife. Aegon laughed and quipped, “I never thought I’d say this brother, but I suppose you do wear the lovestruck look well.”

He had rocked her in silence as Helaena cooed at her, elated at the thought of becoming an aunt to a niece. This family is in dire need of more women, she had mumbled absentmindedly once. “She’s beautiful,” she whispered and Aemond enthusiastically agreed. 

She is beautiful, and she is his. His own daughter, given to him by his own wife.

In the nights, when he was left alone with the women around whom his entire world now revolved, Aemond let tranquility take him. And it was in moments like these, that he learned to love them both with all that he had– blindly, and unconditionally. 

It was in moments like these, that he learned to believe.

Flowers have come to Aemond in multiple shapes and forms throughout his marriage, and the sixth flower that she gave to him, came to him in the form of his little daughter. A little flower, from his flower.

The flowers kept coming to him throughout the many years that followed, and he valued every one of them– for they had all come from her, and they were all a part of her.

His flower. His wife. His very own.

NO TAG LIST. Please follow @randomdragonfics and turn on post notifications for all my fic updates!

MASTERLIST

[mmvalentine]

The Pianist pt 7 | Jurdan

Modern AU. Part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 8

Jude did not lose her job at Java Island.

The boss was certainly not happy, but once she produced the agent's card he was suddenly very taken with the idea that a celebrity might have their origin story as a waitress at his cafe. So he let her stay.

She finished her shift, floating from table to table and not any of Cardan's crew or anyone else could bring her down from this high. Jude sang as she made coffee, sang as she wiped tables, and when she got home she sang when the excitement was too much for her to be able to sleep.

Early the next morning, as soon as was polite, Jude called the agent. He picked up after two rings.

"This is Bryern" he said in a clipped voice.

"Hi," Jude said, breathlessly. She tried again. "My name is Jude. You left me a business card yesterday and said I should call."

"Jude?"

At that moment, Jude remembered he she had never given him her name.

"Ain't No Sunshine," she prompted. "Juilliard, practice room B."

"Ah yes! How could I forget? You know I saw a lot of students that day, and Juilliard is lucky to have you."

"I'm, ah, actually not a student," Jude corrected, wondering if it was the wrong thing to say.

"Even better!" Bryern said. "I won't have to share any of the credit for discovering you! Listen. I'm glad you called. I've got a meeting with a bunch of producers this afternoon, but my talent cancelled on me and now I'm going in empty handed. Can you make it down to LA by 4pm?"

That sounded impossible.

"Sure," Jude said weakly.

How could she say no? For this, she would make the impossible happen.

"Great! I'll text you the address. This is your number?"

"Yeah, this is me."

"Alright. See you soon, kiddo."

Bryern hung up the phone and Jude stared at nothing.

It was certainly possible to get a flight if she left right this second. But after paying rent two days ago, and a week away from her next pay cheque, Jude had all of fifty dollars to her name. That left only one option. She hated it, but it was the only one.

She whipped around her room and put a change of clothes, a handful of toiletries, and the little makeup she owned into a bag. She collected her wallet, charger and passport. Then she tugged her shoes on, walked up the stairs, and knocked on Cardan's door.

It took a few goes to get Cardan out of bed, and she was expecting that. She knocked loudly, insistently, and would just have to apologise later. After a couple of minutes, he arrived, clearly straight out of bed.

Cardan's eyes flickered when he saw who was at his door.

"Hey," he said muzzily. His gaze rolled languidly down her body, and his tongue licked at his bottom lip. "I was just dreaming about you."

"Cardan," Jude said.

"Jude," he returned.

"I know this is so shit. But I need to ask you a favour."

Cardan yawned. Jude needed him to help her, but the lazy pace he was moving at made her want to slap him awake.

"Well you've got good timing," he said, "because I'm pretty sure I owe you. Or at least, I owe dream-you."

Out with it. He clearly wasn't fully functioning yet, and there was no time for beating around the bush.

"I need to fly to LA," she told him. "Would you lend me the money?"

That got his attention. Cardan raised his eyebrow, and stood a little straighter.

"Any particular reason for the sudden departure?" he asked.

"I called Bryern this morning. That agent, from yesterday. And he said if I could make it over to LA by 4pm today, he would introduce me to a bunch of producers. And I... I have to go, Cardan, this wil never, ever happen to me again I just know it, I..."

Cardan had walked away. Jude paused, uncertain if he was coming back or if this was her dismissal.

Then he returned, and handed her a matte black credit card.

"Here," he said. "This should get you there and make sure you're fed and sheltered etc, etc."

"What's this?"

"My credit card, what does it look like?"

"Don't you have... uh, cash?"

Cardan stared at her. "Do people still carry cash? Jude, it's fine, take it. There's a $100, 000 limit, don't spend it all in one place." He winked at her.

"I'll pay you back," Jude promised. "And I won't spend any more than I have to."

Cardan just waved her away.

"You can pay me back when you're famous and I need to borrow money from you. Now off you go, you have a plane to catch."

Jude exhaled a breath she didn't know she had been keeping in.

"Thank you," she breathed, and then went to the airport.

////////

Jude was gone for three weeks, all up.

Twenty-two days, to be exact, and Cardan knew this because that was the number of days he had not slept.

When Jude had showed up at his door all those weeks ago, he had thought he might have still been dreaming.

After that morning in the practice room, Jude had gone back to work at the café, and then immediately went to a shift at the diner. He didn't get a chance to talk to her, and then when she got home it was late and he knew that she liked to sleep early. So he contented himself with listening to her sing while she pottered around, and figured he'd try catch her the next day.

Of course, after Jude had come on the piano and he had left school with with a boner that chafed on the zipper of his jeans, she had been on his mind all day. When he realised he wasn't going to see her, he stood in the shower and replayed the sounds of her pleasure and the taste of her pussy until he found his release.

Only to walk out, hear her voice floating up through the vent and find himself hard all over again.

No wonder then, when he finally fell asleep it was Jude he dreamed about. And in his dream, it was him on the piano and Jude on her knees.

And then he had woken up to find Jude in real life right on his door step. It took an enormous amount of self control to lean the door, feign nonchalance and to not drag her back to bed with him.

At first, Cardan had been more than happy to help Jude off to LA. She had an amazing talent and if all that was in her way was a few hundred dollars, that was an easy fix.

But then he went off to school, came home and worked on his composition, and when he stopped playing the silence rang out like a death toll.

It sunk in then that he had been relying on Jude to help him fall asleep ever since he had heard her that day, and had no idea what to do without her. Had stripped the carpet and kept the vent open just to bring the sound up.

Cardan tried, he really did.

He tossed and turned for three nights, before he reached for the Grey Goose in his top cupboard. It helped a little, but the sleep was patchy and the dreams were bad.

Over the next couple of weeks, Cardan started to unravel, and was so ashamed that all it had taken was for Jude to leave the downstairs apartment. He sat at the piano to compose, but no inspiration came. He tried to practice, but his fingers rebelled against him. And this time, there were none of Valerian's antics, or Locke's parties, or Nicasia's kisses to distract him.

Cardan did think once about calling Jude, just to hear her voice. Even if she was just talking. Then he realised he didn't actually have her number; they had always just found each other in person.

Probably for the best, he thought. How pathetic was he that he couldn't cope without her?

Cardan went out that night, and even thought that he might take someone home. Sometimes sex helped him fall asleep.

But as many people as he met, none of them were Jude, and that particular crime was so unforgivable that he despised them all.

Fucking hell, how did he used to do this?!

Cardan went home, drunk but somehow still not sleepy, and lay down on the floor by the vent. No voices came through it, but he stayed there anyway, and poured vodka down his throat until he passed out.

****

Don't worry Cardan, she's coming back in the next chapter x

JURDAN MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @asteria-of-mars @swankii-art-teacher @loosingdreams @feysand-loml @cityofbookish @story-scribbler @thebonecarver @realbookloverproblems

[ceo-of-daichi]

Characters ~ Iwaizumi Hajime x Fem!Reader

Summary ~ Iwaizumi has a big crush on you, but has no idea how to talk to you without panicking. Oikawa offers an easy solution, will you find out about your secret admirer? Will you accept his affection when you find out?

Genre ~ Fluff

Warnings ~ Swearing

Word Count ~ 1.8k

A/N ~ So here it is as promised... a fic that isn’t about the loml Daichi! Had fun writing this though, want to dedicate this to @iwaxme as like a late birthday fic? Its the least i can do for you babie❤️ Hopefully i do him justice🥰 Thank you @karasu-hoes for proof reading my fic!! I really appreciate it!

Hearing the familiar squeak of volleyball shoes as you walked up to the gym was like music to your ears. You had missed this crazy bunch over the summer break. You weren’t really involved with the Aoba Johsai boys volleyball team, however you enjoyed occasionally popping to their practices. Being good friends with Watari the rest of the team welcomed you with open arms. Walking through the gym doors, Oikawa instantly noticed your presence.

‘[y/n]-channnn’ You rolled your eyes so hard you almost lost them in the back of your head, as he skipped over to you.

‘What do you want, Oinkawa?’ Throwing him a slight smirk as you made your way over to Watari.

‘Rudeeeeee [y/n]-chann’ He whines while making his way back to the other 3rd years slightly dejected.

Chatting to Watari as usual during their break you noticed an unfamiliar pair of eyes on you, usually it was just Oikawa being his weird flirty self however these weren’t his eyes, they seemed to bore through you.

Slowly turning around you locked eyes with Iwaizumi, why was he staring at you? Did you have a stain on your uniform that you didn’t know about? Luckily the minute you looked over at him he turned away, a slight pink tinting his ears. You were confused, however you brushed it off continuing your conversation with Watari. Meanwhile Iwaizumi was having an internal argument with himself, when did you get that pretty? Did that happen over summer or has he just not noticed you in this way now? Finding himself lost in thought for a good 5 minutes before snapping out of it, he had to talk to you…

Practice ending at usual time, you grabbed your stuff and got up off the bench. You were ready to walk home with Watari as usual, but before you could shout at him someone else wanted your attention.

‘Hey, [y/n]’ Iwaizumi started fairly confidently as he jogged across the gym to you.

‘Hm? Oh hey Iwaizumi what's up?’ Turning towards him and greeting him with a smile, suddenly he struggled to form a sentence, his face turning bright red. You were smiling so brightly it completely made him freak out inside, you were even more beautiful up close. Not used to feeling like this he began to panic.

‘Oh i was… i-i was just grabbing this…’ Mad at himself that he pussied out as he bent down to pick up a towel from the bag. 

‘Okay… well i’ll see you tomorrow’ As you walked off to Watari, Iwaizumi was mentally cursing everything. A simple conversation, that's all it was yet he couldn’t even do that.

Luckily for Iwaizumi, Oikawa saw the whole thing. Or at least Oikawa would say it was lucky for him, seen as though Iwa-chan clearly needed some help flirting.

‘I think that is the worst i have ever seen you talk to a girl Iwa-chan’ He said, flinging an arm around his pissed looking friend.

‘Like you could have done any better shittykawa..’ He huffed, trying to calm his blush down, that was still adorning his cheeks.

‘You clearly like her, let me help you!! I can wingman you!’ Oikawa stated excitedly, although Iwaizumi wasn’t too happy with this arrangement he agreed. He needed some help if he was going to get you to notice him. The worst thing was, he craved your attention, getting you to notice him or at least laugh and be happy due to him was his main focus.

Waking up late the next day, you started to panic. Refusing to be late to school, you jumped out of bed, throwing your uniform on and basically sprinting to school. By the time you got there you had about 10 minutes to spare, sighing as you started making your way towards the lockers needing to swap some of your books around. Opening your locker you noticed a loose piece of coloured paper falling to the floor, you definitely did not put that in there. Unfolding it carefully and reading the contents you face lit up in a bright smile.

‘Look Iwa-chann she's smiling and might even be blushing slightly!! I told you it would work!’ Oikawa whispered to his friend from around the corner. Iwaizumi poked his head around the corner smiling at the sight before him, Oikawa was right. Your cheeks were lightly dusted pink and you had a huge smile on your face. Seeing you like this because of him made his heart beat out of his chest. 

‘Come on Shittykawa lets get out of here before she notices us’ He had to stop himself skipping off he was that happy.

You peered around after you finished reading the note, no one looked suspicious or like this wasn’t their normal routine. The note was sweet even though it was only a couple of lines long, it was signed anonymously though. You calm down your blush as you head towards your classroom, your mind not being able to focus on anything apart from the note. 

After that you could not concentrate, your mind was clouded with curiosity. Would this happen again, or was it a one time thing? Was it a boy who sent it or a girl? They must know you because how would they know your locker number..? Your friends could tell something was off but everytime they questioned it you brushed them off, saying you were just spaced out.

At practice that afternoon, as you sat on the bench as you do almost every practice, you started to catch eyes with Iwaizumi more. Giving him small smiles here and there. Has he always been that attractive? The answer was yes and you knew it, but somehow looking at him now, the way he gave you a slight smile as he was practicing spikes, it was like something had changed. Shaking your head and smiling, not like anything would happen between you both, he was way out of your league. Plus you now had a secret admirer, and if they kept leaving you notes… You would have to figure out a way to find out who they were.

For the next week Iwaizumi left short and sweet messages every morning in your locker just to see your reaction. You were still clueless who it was, and he didn’t want you to find out any time soon, what if you were disappointed it was him? He couldn’t take his mind off during practice...After all, you were extremely pretty, and he was just Oikawa’s second to girls like you. He started to get angry just at the thought, wanting to throw a volleyball straight into the back of shittykawas head. But he refrained from doing so as he spotted you walking into the gym.

~ A Couple of Weeks Later ~

This is it you thought to yourself as you woke up at the bright and early time of 6am. You were going to catch the person who had been leaving notes in your locker, for the best part of 3 weeks. Packing up all your school books, you got changed and started your walk to Aoba Johsai. It was chilly out, so much so that you could see your breath in the air. Speeding up so you could get there faster, you spotted someone walking in front of you. Fairly tall and muscular built, he was wearing what looked like your school's uniform. Wondering what he was doing heading to school this early, it suddenly hit you.

Dropping back slightly, hoping he wouldn’t notice, you began to match his pace. Making sure not to lose him, as you suspected when he got to school he went straight to your locker. Slipping something inside. Due to his winter coat you couldn’t see his features, cursing you decided to follow him as he walked off. Praying he would go to the library or something to study, however where he went surprised you.

Ducking behind a corner as he walked through the double doors to the boys gym, no way. He was one of the volleyball boys? Impossible… He wasn’t tall enough to be Oikawa, plus he would never do something like use notes. Who could it be? Unless… You shook that thought instantly out of your head. There is no way Iwaizumi, the ACE of the volleyball team was leaving you notes.

It took you 10 minutes to gather up the courage to walk into the gym and confront whoever it was, but eventually you peaked your head through the double doors. Your eyes went wide as you locked eyes with Iwaizumi, you both just standing there staring at each other in disbelief.

‘I-Iwaizumi… you’ve been leaving notes in my locker?’ You couldn’t help but sound surprised. Blushing he started to slowly make his way over to you.

‘And if i did?’ A hint of worry tinting his tone.

‘I would say…Why me?’ This was something you were genuinely curious about, he must have girls flocking to him. Why you?

Your face started to flush as you realised he looked slightly confused by your question, like there was an obvious answer you were missing.

‘[y/n]... You're smart, funny, intelligent, you never take Oikawa’s shit. Hell most girls would be falling to their knees if they even got a fraction of what you take of him… And most of all… your beautiful’ He stepped closer cupping your cheek and looking into your eyes. When you didn’t reply, mainly because you were caught up in his eyes, he panicked.

‘A-Are you happy it's me?’ He drops his hand back to his side, waiting to hear the worst.

‘You are kidding right Hajime? I’m just… You're too good for me…’ On one hand he was completely imploding inside at the use of his name, it rolled off your tongue perfectly. On the other hand, he hated the fact you didn’t think you were good enough for him, even though in his eyes, it was the other way around. 

With that, he lifted your chin with his hand, getting a sudden boost of confidence, he pressed his lips against yours softly. You froze for a second, unsure of how to function, but soon enough you kissed him back, moving your arms around his neck. His lips were soft, and you enjoyed the kiss while it lasted. It wasn’t long before he pulled away a small smile on his face.

‘Is that enough proof that you are good enough for me? More than good enough for me… your perfect…’

Tags ~ @bb-noya​ @vventure​ @stcrryskies​ @iwaxme @ardorwrites-hq-mha @sugawarasimp @super-noya

[clumsyclifford]

my gift is my song (and this one’s for you)

part 2 of the your song series which is once again dedicated to loml @calumcest helen i hope....this gives u some modicum of joy :’) i wrote it literally at like 1am so if it sucks that would be why 

part 1 on tumblr // part 1 on ao3 // ao3 link for this part

-

There are certain invariable facts: London is the capital of England, E flat is the most beautiful key to play in, and Michael is in love with Calum Hood.

-

There are certain invariable facts: London is the capital of England, E flat is the most beautiful key to play in, and Michael is in love with Calum Hood.

He hadn’t meant to be. In fact, he’d tried not to be, because it can be difficult, being in love with your closest (and only) work partner, and it’s bad enough that they’re fucking. This thing he and Calum have is unnamed, and as such unaddressed. They sleep in the same bed most nights, and kiss a lot, and have passionate sex that leaves both of them breathless, but they’re not, like, dating — they're not in love. They can’t be. At this stage in their career, one scandal like that and they’re out of the game forever.

So it’s not like Michael has been seeing Calum casually for a few weeks and is starting to feel something more. It’s more like Michael had watched Calum chew on his lower lip as he worked on lyrics over breakfast one morning, and it had hit him full force.

Michael’s in love with Calum. That’s just one more thing he has to repress and never think about. It’s not like he’s wanting for much, anyway; the realization hasn’t put much of a damper on his life, because Calum’s right there, always, just within arm’s reach, so willing and easy and pliant that Michael thinks it’s too good to be true. Calum is too good to be true, and he’s too gorgeous to be Michael’s, but here they are anyway.

(He’s not Michael’s, not really, Michael has to remind himself regularly. At any point Calum could decide to go get a girlfriend or fuck someone else, and Michael would have to be okay with it.

Calum doesn’t seem like he plans to do that anytime soon, though.)

Michael wakes up and decides today is going to be a no-pants day, because it’s his own fucking house and he can do what he likes. His mum will fuss, probably, but Michael’s also an adult, so her words don’t hold much weight anymore. 

He treads heavily as he takes the stairs, and when he enters the kitchen Calum is already awake, along with the rest of his family. “Morning,” he greets them all. Calum doesn’t acknowledge him; there’s a pen in his hand and he looks close to being done with something, so Michael doesn’t bitch at him for it.

“Get dressed, Mikey,” his mum says.

“Michael,” Michael corrects her, forcefully. Calum’s the only one who calls him Mikey, and that’s only because he’s too much of a little bitch to listen when Michael tells him not to. He ties his bathrobe anyway, as a compromise.

“I’m not having you moping around here all day,” his mum says, which is funny. What’ll she do? Kick him out?

“We’re songwriting,” Michael tells her. He jerks his chin at Calum for emphasis. Calum glances up at Michael’s mum, then at Michael, as if only just realizing there’s a conversation going on above his head.

Michael skids his eyes over the pages Calum’s scribbling on, but he’s a moment too late to read them; Calum picks them up, staring at them as if they’ve unlocked the secret to the universe, and Michael doesn’t hear anything anyone else says after that. Calum looks the way he looks when he’s got a winner, and Michael wants it.

Sure enough, moments later Calum hands the pages off to Michael, wordlessly. Michael takes them and scans the lyrics: it’s a little bit funny, this feeling inside. I’m not one of those who can easily hide.

His heart rate picks up, and he’s not sure why. These words are personal, and sincere, and they feel like —

They feel like how Michael feels, about Calum.

He looks back at Calum, and wants to ask a million things, but his mum’s in here, still fucking talking, so he just says, meekly, “There’s egg on this,” and then immediately leaves the kitchen. He can hear this song, already. God, he can hear it so clearly that Calum might have plagiarized it. Except he can’t have, because Michael would surely remember hearing a song this — well — 

Adoring, Michael’s subconscious provides. 

He sits at the piano and sets the lyrics on the music stand, and when he puts his fingers to the keys (Calum calmly saying, “I better go take a shave, I think,” in the background), the melody appears unbidden. It’s like it’s been sitting under his fingertips for years, just waiting for the right words, and now they’re here, and Michael’s heart is too big for his chest, and his lungs too small, and he plays every note and tentatively sings.

“It��s a little bit funny,” he starts, “this feeling inside. I’m not one of those who can easily hide.” He pauses, takes a breath. “Don’t have much money, but, boy, if I did…I’d buy a big house where we both could live.” 

He can feel these lyrics in his bones. He wants to sing them to Calum, to look in Calum’s eyes and say this is what I’ve felt for you since the day we met in that cafe and sang “Streets of Laredo” too loud to be appropriate, since I kissed you on the roof and you kissed me back, since I’ve fucking known you.

But these aren’t even his words. They’re Calum’s. These aren’t his own thoughts, or feelings.

Something moves in his periphery. “If I was a sculptor,” he continues, and then chuckles a bit at the next line, “but then again…no.” He glances to the side, and Calum’s standing at the doorway, mesmerized. Michael smiles and looks back at the lyrics. “Or a man who makes potions in a traveling show. I know it’s not much, but it’s the best I can do.” He turns his head, slows down a bit, and meets Calum’s eyes. “My gift is my song, and this one’s for you.” For you, he thinks, with his whole heart and soul, and Calum looks spellbound by the music and a little bit scared and a little bit desperate, but there’s no mistaking the amount of love in his gaze as he watches Michael. Even Michael can see it, and he feels it all the way into his fingertips.

He looks back at the words just as Calum cracks a smile, so sudden that the room lights up with it. “So excuse me forgetting, but these things I do; you see I’ve forgotten, if they’re green or they’re blue,” and oh, oh. Sometimes Calum tries to write from Michael’s perspective, but not this one. Calum’s eyes are deep and brown, and Michael’s the one with the blue-green eyes that change colors whenever they fucking feel it, apparently.

“Anyway, the thing is…what I really mean,” Michael goes on, and hides a smile as he sings it. It’s just like Calum to write lyrics like this, so stream-of-consciousness, to say things like anyway and then again, no and try to double back and explain himself. This isn’t just a song; this is a letter, a message, and Michael feels every feeling ever about being the one receiving it.

He reads the next line and almost stutters over it; as it is, he has to tense his jaw so he doesn’t cry. “Yours are the sweetest eyes I’ve ever seen,” he sings, softly, because this isn’t a line for the world to hear, this is his, his and Calum’s. 

He thinks Calum is still standing in the doorway, but he’s too nervous to look over now, afraid that one glance will make him too misty-eyed to read the words, or make his palms too sweaty to play. He’s overwhelmed with love, and he’s not done with the song just yet.

“And you can tell everybody, this is your song,” Michael goes on, and fuck it — he turns his head again, and Calum is still there, wide-eyed and staring, like he can’t quite believe something. “It may be quite simple, but now that it’s done, I hope you don’t mind, I hope you don’t mind that I put down in words…” He nearly chokes on the next part. “How wonderful life is, while you’re in the world,” he manages, gentle.

He doesn’t deserve these words, but he knows they’re his. And when he looks again at Calum, thoughtlessly playing a final chord, he knows that Calum knows that he knows they’re for him.

He glances around himself when he finishes. He mum and gran are both sat in the room; Michael feels exposed, and he needs to be alone with Calum, like, yesterday.

Calum blinks at him, doe-eyed, then steals out of the room, and Michael swallows thickly and follows after him, footfalls muted by the carpet.

He closes their door behind him. Calum’s standing in the middle of the room like he’s not quite sure what to do with himself.

“You wrote that?” Michael says. Okay, stupid question. He amends, “For me.”

It’s supposed to be a question, but comes out like a statement. Calum nods.

“Did you mean it?”

Calum stares at him. “How could I not mean it, Mikey?”

“Fuck,” Michael says. “That’s, like. A love song.”

“Yeah.”

“A real, proper love song, not some cheesy poppy Daniel you’re a star shit.”

“Yeah,” Calum says, nervous but steady.

“For me,” Michael says again. He’s not sure he can believe it.

“Yeah,” Calum says a third time. “Is that okay?”

“Yes, it’s fucking okay,” Michael says, a little out of breath. “More than okay. But I thought we were — like. I don’t know. Not…that.” He sees Calum flinch, and hurriedly adds, “But I don’t care. I want to be that.”

“You do?” Calum says.

“Fuck, are you kidding me, Cal? I love you. I — I love you more than anyone’s ever loved. I didn’t think I was capable of love until I met you. You make me feel like I’m something more, like I’m something worthwhile, like I’m artwork, when in reality you’re the artwork, and I’m just the lucky bastard who —”

Calum cuts him off with a searing kiss, and Michael startles and then sinks into it. The kiss spreads to every part of him, more than it ever has; he can feel it in his palms and the arches of his feet and his stomach and his chest. He wraps his arms around Calum’s waist and pulls him in, crowding as close as he can. He’s kissed Calum too many times to count, but this one says everything he wasn’t allowed to say before. I love you. I mean it. I love you. I mean it. I love you. I mean it.

Calum pants against Michael’s lips when they break apart, and Michael feels dizzy. “Mine are the sweetest eyes you’ve ever seen?” he can’t help asking. “Really?”

“Fuck off,” Calum grumbles.

“No, it’s cute.” Michael kisses Calum again. “Very romantic. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

“I haven’t anymore,” Calum says. “It’s yours now. Your Song, you see?”

Michael shakes his head. “Cal, it’s our song,” he says quietly.

“The name of the song is Your Song, you idiot,” Calum says.

Michael shoves his shoulder for ruining the moment, but Calum grabs his sleeve as he stumbles back, and they both collapse onto the bed.

(They don’t leave the bed for a while.)

(Michael could die right now and he’d die a happy man.)

[royalskarsgard]

Once in a Lifetime

Billy Hargrove X Reader

Summary: Is it harder to love the man who broke your heart or to forgive him?

A/N: This is sooooooo overdue, and I’m so sorry. Family issues got in the way. And a whole lot of writer's block. But I hope you can forgive me, it’s super long to account for how long I went missing! Thanks to the loml for helping me through this @hotstuffhargrove

Sequel to ‘Love You, Goodbye.’

Warnings: one swear word

Word count: 2.4k

“Fucking Harrington! Get your dirty clothes out of the bathroom,” you groaned. He always did this after work, he always left his dirty uniforms on the bathroom floor. He claimed he was too exhausted after work to bring them to the correct place. Yet, a sudden burst of energy always appeared when his “study buddy” called to meet him at the library. 

“I’ll get them later! I’m actually. Headed out to meet Lisa at the library. I’ll catch you tomorrow!” He rushed out. You rolled your eyes, wondering why Steve thought his lies were believable. He’s clearly in love. 

Love was cruel and not worth anything in the end. It’s just a consumeristic ploy that gets you to buy movie tickets and to sell chocolate on Valentine’s Day. It wasn’t real. It was all lust, love at first sight? Fake, what they're really thinking is, ‘my god, that person really is fuckable.’

Sighing, you went into your powder pink bathroom. Feet slipping on the water Steve had left after his shower. When all his clothes were in the correct hampers, you quickly passed the kitchen, deciding to skip dinner. You weren’t that hungry, working at a diner was hard, but the free food was a good perk. Especially for a broke college student. 

Your room was dark, the door screamed against its hinges as you shut it. As much as you loved Steve, you were glad he was always gone. In part because it’s what you preferred and you didn’t want to infect in with your sadness. Was it really that pathetic that you were currently reaching for a half-empty bottle of cologne to spay onto your sheets? That in two minutes, you would light three cigarettes and hold them near your pillow? Maybe, but it was the only thing keeping you afloat. Especially now. 

With the cigarettes burning in your hand, you picked up your favorite picture of him. It was a rare one, he was actually smiling. It wasn’t one of those signature smirks he always gave. It was real. The real billy. No one really gave the real Billy a chance. They wrote him off as a punk as soon as they saw him. People are quick to judge when they don’t know the whole story. Just like love, the truth was more painful than what they told us growing up.

“Why can’t I move on?” You whispered to yourself. You took a drag of the cigarette that sat lit between your fingertips. A coughing attack took over, and you groaned reaching for some water. You couldn’t understand his appeal for them, never had, and never will. After all three were burnt, you laid down in your bed that was now plastered in his scent. It wasn’t perfect. Your sheets weren’t mixed with his shampoo, his hairspray or the way his skin smelled after a basketball game. But it was close enough to lull you to sleep for a few hours. 

“Hey! Wake up, we gotta go. It’s an emergency. Pack a bag we’re going to the airport,” Steve shook your shoulders ripping you away from a peaceful sleep. Your heart climbed into your throat and made you sick to your stomach. When you finally gained full consciousness, you watched as Steve ran around the room putting things he thinks you like in a bag. 

He motioned for you to hurry and rushed to his own room to do the same. Grabbing more essentials and getting dressed, you found Steve waiting in the living room for you. He had a toothbrush in his mouth, the paste dribbling down his chin. His shoulder held the phone close to his ear, confirming two flights to LAX. It was two am, and it was officially proven that Steve Harrington was crazy. 

~~

Three days earlier

Billy’s eyes widened as he saw a brown-eyed boy with a bowl cut standing in front of him.  A chill ran up his spine, he knew this kid. The boy smiled before he took a small step back. 

“Will Byers, Jonathan's brother, I was a friend of Max’s?” Billy nodded, finally putting the pieces together. They weren’t friends by any means, but he’d seen him around. He never tried to date Max, so there was no point in getting to know him. 

“How are you alive? We all saw you die, you sacrificed yourself to the mind flayer. How did you survive? Did El bring you back to life?” Rather than frightened, the boy looked confused. He looked as if Billy being brought back to life was an acceptable answer. There was no fear, only confusion, and genuine concern. And for some reason deep down, Billy didn’t feel afraid to tell him the truth, so that’s what he did. 

“Everything was dark, it was Hawkins but with the life taken out of it. It was so cold. No matter what I did, I could never get warm. Sometimes I was in a dark room with water, and I saw that girl you know there too. I tried to get to her, but she left before I could reach her,” with every word he said Billy got more and more withdrawn. A cold breeze running through his body. Will shivered the more he talked 

“We call it The Upside Down, I’ve been there too. When they thought I was missing, that’s where I was. The thing that you saw down there, and what died in the mall was a mind flayer,” the young boy sighed knowing this was information overload. But he also knew that Billy deserved answers. 

“It possessed me too, except I wasn’t stuck in the upside-down. I’m not sure how that happened. A couple of years ago, the U.S. government used Hawkins as one giant experiment, trying to find out that the supernatural existed, to use it as a weapon. Things turned sour, and it left a big mess for my friends, it’s how we found El. She’s the girl you saw down there.” 

On any regular basis, billy would’ve told the young child to go fuck off and give some insult about how he was crazy. But Billy heard the stories about Will Byers, the boy who came back to life. He’d once found an old missing poster with him on it. So for now, he didn’t find it that crazy, especially paired with Billy’s own experiences 

“I saw her touching me.. not me per se but, whatever looked like me. I was sitting on my bed in my room, and she was real and apparently so was I. I tried to yell, to run to get there but nothing was enough. Now it just feels like it’s watching me, following me.”

“We’re connected to it now, to the mind flayer. Even in death, I can still feel it. Maybe it will never leave, maybe it will go away. It’s terrifying, but I don’t want it to control my life. Do you?” A simple question, yet it caught him off guard. He had moved on, things were going fine he had a job, a home, and a small group of friends. But if he asked himself if he was truly happy, he probably would’ve said no. He was scared shitless. 

“Can I ask you for a favor?” Billy whispered. The boy nodded, knowing that despite everything, the two young men would do anything for each other. 

“Can you call someone for me?” 

~~~

Present:

The car moved shook with the bumps along the pavement. The smell of sea salt was becoming stronger, the closer you got to the beach. It was beautiful, that’s what Steve said at least. Your mind was racing, your heart stopped, and your chest slowly moving. You didn’t know how to feel. When you touched down in Los Angeles, you figured something was off, but when Steve started driving towards Palos Verdes, you knew something major must be wrong. You had begged and pleaded to know if El and the rest of the Byers family were okay. It terrified you to no end when Steve remained silent. It took you screaming your lungs out for Steve to finally pull over to a local diner. 

Now you sat in the passenger seat tears streaming down your cheeks. You didn’t know what to say, you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t even blink. Billy was alive. Steve told you everything on the side of the highway, at first you thought you heard him wrong because of all the cars driving past. But Steve stood there barely looking you in the eyes like he felt guilty for giving you the information. He hasn’t said much either since you stepped in the car. Explaining it all either drained him or he was afraid to say anything more.

“Billy Hargrove died in the Starcourt Mall from a freak gas leak. If that’s not true, that means the truth is more painful than what actually happened” Steve sighed, he had no idea how to comfort you. He couldn’t tell you everything was okay or it would be fine because it wasn’t. 

Billy was alive, you knew that in your heart. You prayed for so many nights it was all a joke and Billy was pissing his pants from how funny it was. That he would pick you up from work and drive you home. That the man you all thought had died just looked a lot like Billy, and you didn’t know who he really was. 

Yet somehow the truth was much worse than that. Billy knew your heart was shattered, he knew that you were in pain, and he was the only one who could save you. Instead of coming back and risking questions, he walked away. He walked away from you, Max, and everyone else. He watched you and decided you weren’t enough of a reason to come back. He lived it up in California while you got to hold max when she cried herself to sleep every night. Maybe everyone was right, he wasn’t redeemable he was just an asshole. 

“Do you want to see him?” Steve asked you, the beach was only a few minutes away, and your anxiety grew with each mile closer. 

“How am I supposed to look at him after everything. I thought he died in my arms and it turns out he was alive the whole time? Why didn’t he come to me?” A small part of you knew why he did what he did, he was scared and alone. 

“You’re the only person who’s looked at him with pure kindness, he was confused and had nowhere to go. Can you blame him for running away?” He reached over and grabbed your hand. A small gesture that brought you great comfort. 

“How many people know?” 

“Only you, me and Will. Billy wanted to make sure you knew before the others. I’m not sure if he ever plans on telling the others.” He pulled into the beaches parking lot. The glow of the setting sun burned your eyes. He was down there, in the flesh for the first time in over a year. 

You figured out later that the last time you saw the unflayed Billy was the night of the accident. He had just dropped you off, and he said he would see you tomorrow, that he loved you and to be safe. He kissed you and smiled before getting into his car and driving away. After that, Billy started pushing you away, using you only for sex. Until that stopped too and he barely spoke to you. Then he died. You’d felt guilty for so long for not seeing the signs. 

“What if I can’t forgive him?” the whispered confession left your lips in shame. Was it fair to have spent a year grieving for this man only to push him away when you finally got him back? 

“Then you move on, but you won’t know until you see him. So go, he’s waiting.” that was his gentle way of kicking you out of his car. 

You stepped onto the hot pavement. The heat immediately suffocating you, this wasn’t Hawkins anymore. You saw Will standing close the steps, silently greeting you. He gave you a warm smile like he was telling you everything was going to be okay. Will nodded towards the water before going to sit in Steve’s car. 

Taking a deep breath of the salty air, you made your way down to the water. The hot sand sinking underneath your feet. Billy was here, this was the moment. Was he still the same? Would you still love him? Had he moved on? Was he just as broken as you? Your mind flooded with all these questions as you kept walking. Billy wasn’t there yet, giving you a small second of relief to catch your breath. 

A small tap on your shoulder broke you from your thoughts, it was hesitant, and he was obviously just as nervous as you were. There he was. When you turned around, the man you loved more than anything was again standing in front of you. He had been kissed by the sun, and his hair was wilder than ever before. His green eyes were bright against his now tanned skin. 

A surge of anger ran through you as you shoved him away, again and again, and again. He took all of it. He grabbed your wrists when you started beating his chest. Bruises would appear later, but Billy knew full well he deserved all of it and more. 

“I’m so sorry,” he begged. His heart was beating so fast against his chest; he was afraid it would kill him before he could get the words out. You looked so perfect, he never doubted you would, but after a year you weren’t just in his dreams anymore. Your face was perfectly clear, the nightmares about forgetting your face vanished. 

He caught you before you fell to your knees into the sand and lowered his own body to you. He ran his fingers through your hair and held you close to his chest. Repeating that he was sorry and that he loved you so much. He begged you to forgive him. 

As he held you, your lungs filled with the smell of cigarettes, his cologne, and the smell of dried sea salt against his skin. He was back, he was warm, life was coursing through his veins. Every image of his cold body being whisked into a black back was replaced. You loved him, he was your one and only. The only man you could ever think of loving. Forgiveness was already given,   and explanations could wait until later. You had all the time in the world, nothing would separate the two of you again. He would always be there for you, he was your forever and always, and you were his.

Tagged: @hotstuffhargrove @asheseiler

[macklives]

homestuck recap

i hated this so fucking much bc my 2 am bitch-ass didnt want to read a recap thats probably longer than any slowburn out there

anyways here it is

also, uhhH sorry im using this as a end of session discussion bc that shit gets explained in her as well. and im not writing up more recaps of a recap so this is where im done for the day. (by done for the day i mean last nights session, im still doing a liveblog soon. i just wrote this yesterday)

also that this is long

you dont have to read it, theres nothing of importance

ive been coping with humor to get me through it

neato.

have fun with what i suffered through:

why was “beta” the only thing unhighlighted?

like did i miss a page???

OH its the beta version of HS thats why

damn its like 5 pages and thats it

mmh

well youll all be happy to know im clicking every single one of these links again bc i like looking back like ahh i remember that. good times. also in case i forgot some shit existed.

do you think andrew had fun writing this? or was he like “fuck”

thats a lot of fucking package talk. good thing im not confused as of now and remember it pretty clearly. of else, this early on in the recap, id be screwed.

god remember when i did an analysis on each item and what it did

i feel as if i have the technology engrained inside my head right now

cruxite, alchemeter, all that jazz

flashbacks are starting up already

yeah, that was the good part in homestuck where i knew 100% that i probably would continue on this liveblog in its entirety, ngl

that one explosion scene. bc it kept me going.

OH W A IT SHIT

i just realized how the intermission spades probably fucking foreshadowed the whole jack revolts thing and gains the ring, which was also technically JOHNS fault considering he slashed up the doll in the first place

my god, i guess thats the only good aspect of the recap. looking back at things and realizing the missing pieces.

oh that makes sense for the whole “this prototyping had no effect on the enemies, since he was already in the medium” i didnt actually think about that

little did rose know where that would get her right now

oh yeah

there’s still the whole entire lab terminal thing and how mom basically knows the place exists. i guess we’re still venturing onto that and itll come up later when we find out how mom knows SO MUCH about the game.

still think shes some weird spy or secret agent

i kinda love her ngl

anyways, theres literally no reason for skaia to produce a cloning machine. so technically, they only sent the meteors in, right? so who put the cloning machine in if not mom?

oh yeah that impact was nerve wrecking asf

and still at this point in the comic i called dave fuckboy red

huh, how times change

i hated reading that whole paragraph ngl, the frustration just kicked me in the boobs again

yeah nobody else got tornadoes, huh?

OH that makes also much more sense

bc she did prototyped them before she entered the medium.

i gotcha

man one of my favorite edits i made, rose hitting that meteor with a bat

are you

telling me

the exiles structures they arrived on were in the form of the items the kids used to enter the medium?

THE EGG

THAT EXPLAINS “EGG”

of course it was 413 years ago. that was never explained. simply vague “many years in the future....” but i expected no less from this

man serenity is the most wholesome character in hs no doubt

damn thought andy here was really gonna spoil us jade’s planet

okay cool, im glad i now have the layout to the whole “their stations went to the coordinates of the home button” shindig

man i honestly dont know what else to say besides “yeah cool recap” when i already pretty much know what went down? ofc im looking into each link and shit and adding in things when i see fit, but otherwise its just me going “ah good times” yknow

the whole meteor thing kinda makes sense now?

we’re still missing a few pieces of info but we’re getting there, folks

oh yeah that reveal

god jade and dave have it in the shits for parents huh

bro isnt the best and jade has a fucking dog

who lowkey

is doing better than bro

who knew a fucking dog is a better guardian than bro lmfao

dreambot = terminator. im telling you.

sorry im still on that idea and it will never leave unless i have the actual proof in front of me that its not going to become a thing. meaning, ive finished hs and theres still no terminator dreambot or either andrew himself gives me a canon letter with “the robot is not arnold, mackenzie, pls just let it be”

why is the entire game session highlighted

i swear to god if this is like to a second recap or smth of the whole game session i may fucking CRY

okay thank god its just a design of the skaia layout

which is honestly cool

idk why its blurry tho but i can at least see the layout now. which is honestly how i pictured it anyways.

yeah, john did make a huge impact in his friends’ life and i find that so fucking touching

yep. got that. everything loops around. cool.

especially when the trolls come in. god we havent even gotten to that recap portion yet, we havent even gotten to the INTERMISSION

pls can this be the halfway point to the recap

AT LEAST

so they were exiled after the whole jack: ascend thing, right? considering theyre way in the future. man no fucking wonder.

speaking of jack

man that whole dad and jack interaction was gold, ngl

OH THAT EXPLAINS THE RING THEN

and wow, andrew’s really giving us the best female content huh. andrew is the true god of equality and diversity.

also hey, i didnt realize that wow. so PM tricked the queen in showing the parking ticket to be able to take the present from jack. she’s a smart cookie, that one..

she and PM basically snitched on jack and it was the best thing that has happened to me so far

oh yeah okay

but why did AR panic over bec? bc thats something we havent learned yet, right?

anyways

exile town, the only town which should exist. facts. i dont make the rules.

noice

i love PM being queen. like.. thats canon now. shes an actual queen.

yeah that was a fun game and the consorts were cute

fuck yeah the dick head

hate them even more now that i know john was killed because of them

anyways, i wonder what dick move dave’s denizen did? maybe thats why its filled with lava bc the denizen was like “fuck it. make the land red. kill them all”

UH WHAT

WHAT

OH MY GOD HOW DID I JUST FORGET NANNAS LETTER LIKE THAT LMFAO

THEIR TITLES WERE THERE THE WHOLE TIME!

so i still dont know what they mean but i can gather it has something to do with the game giving them abilities. considering dave is the “knight of time” and he can go back in time. whack.

which means john can either control someones breathing or simply wind. and rose is... like that one girl in the winx club who does the sun shit. bc whenever i think of light powers, i think of stella.

and jade is space. witch of space.

nice

i have no idea what that means ngl

okay finally

we’re at the trolls

maybe this recap will end soon

i remember when i thought they were internet bullies

yesss

someone asked if i basically knew the trolls were on a different veil than the kids, so not presently with them, and i know lol. i was making a joke before btw. jsyk. dont think im incompetent to forget these things when sometimes i choose to forget it so i can add in a joke

it be like that, i annoy many

then again, pls dont assume im trying to say im not incompetent bc im also a fucking dumbass and DO forget shit and i have no excuse

imagine being so bored on the meteor, your last resort is speaking to aliens

ngl me if i was ever trapped on a meteor and could potentially do that

nah ik its bc its their only hope at helping with their session or whatever tf CG said to john. but there was BOUND to be a conference meeting between them like “okay guys. humans. that needs to be sorted out” and you just hear CG screaming in the background

i cant wait to meet them honestly bc im growing on all 4 of the ones we’ve seen already. and on top of that, i know what they look like and i know theyre not THAT bad, just a little on the crayy zee side sometimes

but theyre trying

OH MY GOD

I GET IT

FUCK

DOES THAT MEAN THE INTERMISSION IS *APART* OF THE MAIN FUCKING STORY??

AND SPADES IS WV FOR THE TROLLS

GOD D A M N

wow

i didnt expect that. but maybe the signs were there and i was just willingly choosing to ignore it or smth bc “haha couldnt be, right”

flashbacks to how i thought the trolls were humans

anyways, i guess he got his revenge on the kids version of “snowman” ie the black queen. but really

he did not have to do that. he could have cut off the finger and fled. but he decided “nah, lets implode her” so the loml is dead and all i got was a catchy song

i knew they were different types of “bullies” but now i just have to replace bullies with uhh

trolling strategies

anyways, this is cute. i love how they’ve come to be friends through mutual frustration. good part in the comic.

i wonder why it explodes

more importantly

....

terminator time?

this was my favourite sequences of dialogues in the whole entirety of homestuck. that is to say the back and forth thing that the kids went through to become a sort of wingman for the other.

absolutely gold.

all except AT’s rap.

GC was the only smart one with the linear shit

anyways fuck he still has to kill the denizen now but apparently its hard to beat for a sleeping dick head so

that will be fun for the future

john will probably need to kill A LOT of imps to get there

yeah rose is a badass bc she slayed that thing with needles of all things

OH and the white queen was the cursive

damn did AR ever do the whole guide process to a kid yet? maybe he will with dave, idk

oHHH

i fucking SEE

thats why he said DNA

to use it and replace all the life forms in the ocean

fucking neat wow

man that sounded sarcastic but im genuinely impressed bc all i got was bullshit as i read jaspersprites log

so thats the secret. it was “meow” bc that somehow translates to the genetic code she needs then. and that code apparently took fucking years to write as well. sick. whack. oh man.

derse is very pretty, ngl

and wow shit

“dave had already been awake in his tower all along without realizing it” how tf does someone just

do that, awake in both places at once

i didnt even fucking realize that fact as i read that pesterlog wow

ah yes, around the time things got confusing

okay so the capsule makes sense bc at first i didnt know it was a fucking time capsule so i got confused as to how it just apparated the game lmfao

the more you know i guess *twinkle*

i find that a neat concept tho

like the whole whatever you prototype affects the imps and shit

yeah so that whole “he had no advice” basically impacted his future

no shit dave wanted to reset things bc he probably thought he caused some sort of bad butterfly effect and killed his best friend

fuck calsprite thats all im gonna say

i read that first sentence and i think i got an aneurysm

and then everything else just made me sad again

i mean good thing he fucking did amirite?

we got pain at first but now we got cool shit like idk

fucking DAVESPRITE

damn idk how that works

will rose have like two minds now? or will this be some steven universe fusion shit?

“and understood their meaning” course well i fucking didnt so could you pls elaborate, rose?

okay but then what the fuck did he use that was inside the fucking box

bc i thought he used his knife?

im only every going to refer him as that now, thank you andrew

alright okay..

god that was a lot

i dont know what will happen once i click on those links but i am going to see that for myself bc i refuse to add ANYTHING ELSE

[ofphcenixes]

BLUE & LIBBY - text thread 001

texts from 3:55pm to 7:01pm

blue

hey lib. (: havent talked today. just wanted to drop in and see if u were doin alright i have memes if u need them

libby

i mean, technically we did talk. i reminded you of the moment the world stood still: when valentine and you made contact (1) time. are you okay though? you seem a little, weird

blue

i maintain that valentine was an alien in a spider suit that wanted to destroy me but u know what I mean djdjdjd just chats between us. the gc has been a june holden fest lately lmao hope it works out for them tho anyways i am always weird in ur eyes djdjhd. but im fine. shit was crazy that night and we never really got to talk about what happenedand if u wanted to talk i just want u to kno im here ABOUT NADIA bc yeah kdjdjjd

libby

don't talk to me or my son ever again yeah, wow, okay so holden stayed over the night. i only know that because i saw his stuff in her room? i think she mentioned that like, it was a one time thing but i feel like... he might be coming over again which.. is Interesting oh. yeah, no i think i'm okay. i guess just in shock. june is very broken up over it, so i'm doing my best to be a good pal, and bring loads of ice cream and kisses. /: do you wanna talk? about nadia? i know that she like, meant something to you

blue

ok good luck getting me to stop talkin to u but as for valentine? bye Felecia! is that right. hmm well he doesn’t seem like much is goin on so maybe they were just,, hanging out. bringing a bag over is pretty damning tho. and if he does come over and u see him tell that bih he owes me $ bc he ate my fucking chorizo salad ): r u proud lib?? I ate a salad by choice well I would have if Holden wasn’t a lil birch bitch DONT CENSOR ME fuck. im sorry. ): i actually wanted to see june today tbh. but if u need anyone pls let me know alright? id skip practice if u needed me, lib WELL. i mean ok i was sorta close with her in middle school and she’s always been a friend and I just. I’m just fucking numb tbh. I really can’t believe it

libby

i'll have you know that valentine died shortly after my 18th birthday so ): idk idk, why would they hang out in her room if they were "hanging out"? like they have history. i feel like thats, a little too ... suspicious given the context. in a good way though. like i hope it works out theyre both so miserable without each other. oh my god!! look at you go! so proud of you, dude! ( even if you never got to it lmao ) no, no, it's okay. june needs all the support she can get, and i don't wanna impede. i'm really fine, i just sort of need to accept it and i guess reflect on how terrible it is. she was a really sweet person and fuck i really cant believe any of it i guess

blue

fuck what kdjdjdnd I thought valentine just yeeted shit that’s not a good way to put it fuck but. im sorry lib ): ok I take it back Valentine was alright. still scared the fuck out of me tho all i know is that if i loved someone as much as holden loves june, i wouldn’t let you go **THEM fuck Damn phone Typos Djdjhdi can’t believe u make me eat green stuff its truly CRUEL whomst? I only know nadia just didn’t fucking deserve any of this. shit even daisey didn’t. i just want to protect everyone and i don’t know HOW it goes without saying that im happy to be ur uber driver for the indefinite future

libby

no omg, i took good care of my boy. idk what happened, they can live up to like 15 years so i was pretty bummed tbh. i was a bad mom he appreciates your support from the grave though i mean, i guess. but not everyone you love is going to love you back, i think that's where holden's at. not everyone wants to be clung to, and june seems reluctant besides, you know all about that. holden, the love of your life, loves june. how sad it's good for you!!! i'm helping i ... feel so badly for both of them. i can't imagine how their families must be feeling, fuck. i hate this. i'm moving to spain ah, dude you don't have to do all that. you probably are busy with practice, and holden, and work. thank you tho

blue

im sure ur a great mother. ): but still valentine was lucky to have u. and im sure he misses u in his weird spider heaven web of flies and whatever it is spiders like idk ill dm peter parker and find out i mean... guess that’s true. I suppose I dont get to see how june feels most of the time. i just wish they’d talk about it and sort it out at least. they both deserve to be happy holden is the loml that is true aksjjsjd. holden has enough room for both me and june in his heart. so i mean technically i can love someone else too?? but enough about that lmfao you definitely are helping. even coach has noticed dkdjd. making me better without even trying u can’t move without me who’s gonna get me free popcorn ): you’re just as important as practise and holden to me, lib.

libby

god, i miss him. you think the girls would be mad if i bought another one? like, to keep in my room.  i know! they're both obviously still in love, you can tell. i can't wait for them to overcome this and get to be together. also, im grateful for the amount of sleep i'm able to get now that... the room next to mine is less loud welp, i hope you find someone who is willing to share you with holden lol oMG, REALLY? IDK WHY THAT MADE ME IRRATIONALLY HAPPY LOL. WE CAN GET SALAD LATER let's go, we'll go to spain and take on a new identity. we can live along the coast and work in a bakery or something. get a puppy don't show holden that text he might cry. but dsjflk thank you, you're very important to me too. kinda my best pal

blue

u would have to ask. but if you did get another what would u call it? thanksgiving? funnily enough valentine is only a few weeks away. a sign?? i mean fuck ive known holden for years and can confirm he is happiest when he’s with june. when she’s not roasting him at least lmfao. and if my MasterPlan works im afraid things will get bad again djdjdj. I can take one for the team and try to get them to come over here tho - u don’t need to deal with that shit i hope i do too tbh. and who would I want it to be u ask? that’s right. danny devito. LETS NOT GET TOO CRAZY IVE ALREADY HAD THREE VEGETABLES THIS WERK AND ITS ONLY TUESDAY. I think it’s popcorn time 8) bold of u to assume i know where Spain is dkdjdjdjdj well he’s gonna catch on soon enough we spend every day together at this point lol

libby

i was gonna name this one patrick, after st patricks day actually lol. yes you know what's also approaching that is more important? your birthday! i know, it doesnt take a rocket scientist to figure that out. he's v much a relationship kinda dude, actually bc he's also kinda slutty lol. but even june is sad and its just, SO HARD. i hate when people are clearly, happiest together are like, nO IM GOING TO PROLONG THE MISERY. i feel like we're in a rom-com. how do we get them back together? i'll let him know. my v-day gift from me to you oooo, should i get the skittles ready too then? popcorn is kinda of a veggie if you think abt it omg, okay well now you can't come with me. offer rescinded. im going with the hot cop lslsfkjdjkldfs i mean its not like we're doing anything weird, so its okay, right?

blue

ur so cute wtf. although if u did do this i hope u know im calling him patrick star. also how the fuck do u tell if its a female or a male spider theyre so small and gross. fuck it is too lol. i dont have any money so im gonna let ppl down on the party front lmao. ud still come tho, right? how can he be both slutty and relationshippy. like not to be weird bc i know hes ur cousin and all dkfjgg but he doesnt.. have people over anymore. unless hes someone learned not to stomp around the house WHICH I DONT BELIEVE. and ha hA im already on plan 384 to get them back together get on my level lmao.  we just gotta force them to spend time together tbh. does that mean i have to give u the hot cop for valentines bc i mean. i would if that's what u wanted but im sure u can do much better than him OH FUCK UR RIGHT OUR WHOLE RELATIONSHIP HAS BEEN A LIE TO CONVERT ME TO VEGGIES HASNT IT r u breaking up with me? well fine, ill take the dog ): it's... it's not weird unless we make it weird. and we haven't. have we?

libby

fdsjfjdsl shhhhh, back at you. Patrick Star will be his full name, i promise you this much. as for gender idfk, i am honestly assuming its pronouns lol. i'd be sued by the LGBT community if they knew. also dude, of course. i'll make you cupcakes. plus i know what i wanna buy you! i  can't wait dude what? really?? i thought he was seeing people this whole time, holy shit. dude he's really messed up over this huh? wow, okay, we need to kick this into high gear and have them get back together. tell me your plans. omg, no you clown. i don't even like him that much, he's just pretty. i do like... some personality and he has 0 GOD MY PLAN HAS BEEN FOILED. I CANT BELIEVE IT like i'd ever let you take the dog. she's mine sdfjlkdsfjlk iDK DUDE. I MAY HAVE MADE IT WEIRD BUT WE'RE BAD AT TALKING ABT STUFF, SO WE DONT HAVE TO LOL.

blue

do spiders even have gender i thought they were just the minions of evil lmfao lib u rly dont have to get me anything, really. altho now im curious tbh. but get ready for me to get a lit gift in june >:) ill even wrap it myself which says a lot bc i cant wrap for shit but i want it to be personal lmao not many that im aware of atm. will give u info is this changes. huh we r spies lib. >:) but i dont have any current plans except trying to force them to go in a photo booth together or something when we eventually go to the arcade djsjdh omg how did u know. but idk everyone speaks about him like hes gOD he’s just a dude. eyebrows on fleek tho I will say that IM SO HURT UD USE ME LIKE THIS LIB. ALL THIS TIME WE WERE GETTING CLOSE AND U WERE ONLY HERE FOR THE VEGGIES so u get Spain AND the dog. what do I get, sadness ???? you haven’t made it weird lib, i promise. not to me, anyway. maybe we both wanted the same thing. maybe. oR MAYBE NOT LMFAO but yeah we can talk about whatever lol

libby

don't talk about nate like that omg! i want to, plus its a surprise so no asking what it is. also wow i cant believe you remember my birthday, lol. you dont have to get me anything. you can buy me an ice cream though oh my gOD THAT'S BRILLIANT! aw, what if they take one of those cute kiss pictures in the photobooth like in the movies? i can't wait for them to love each other again, they're so cute. are you jealous that no one is talking about your eyebrows? you have nice eyebrows and nothing to be jealous abt GOD, IM SO SORRY. ROY HIRED ME. HE WAS WORRIED ABT YOUR HEALTH. IM SORRY YOU HAD TO FIND OUT THIS WAY. I THOUGHT YOU NEVER WOULD /: you get the memory of what we were to keep you warm right, cool. noted

blue

why do u talk about the string bean all the time i know u grew up with him but seriously he's like a pale pipe cleaner that i dont need in my life ofc i remeber ur birthday lib. dont u remember ur 10th?? probably the best day of my life lmao. and if u get me something i get u something thats how this works as long as june doesnt say anything mean and holden say anything stupid, its a pretty solid plan tbh. im not jealous HOW DARE ROY PLAY ME LIKE THIS. cant believe u betrayed me lib, after all we've been through ;-; but what if i want something to sell off now that u took the house oh fuck lib i didn't mean it like that. just... pretend i said nothing ok and. yeah talk about something else

libby

hey sorry, i gotta go. talk tomorrow.

blue

oh is everything ok? but alright talk tomorrow then i guess bye lib

libby

night

blue

its 6pm lib but okay night

blue

lib if i did something u dont have to tell me but pls know i didnt mean it, whatever it was. i hope youre okay. but i wont bother u again i promise. just. yeah

libby

it's okay, dude. i'm fine. it's honestly my own fault, it's not you. you're always great. i'm sorry. it's fine

blue

i dont understand what ur talking about but i can tell u dont want to so ill just... leave this. but you're always great too lib. the greatest, in fact. just let me know if ur still coming to the arcade later or not yeah

libby

i guess i'll go. i like pacman.

blue

if u... if u change ur mind i understand. but i really hope u can make it.

[monotonemanday]

Our Days Divided - Mystic Messenger University AU - Chapter 7 The S Team

It’s back! Sorry it hasn’t been out for awhile! I have been working on several things lately!! And also I’ve been a little sick. (My eyeballs are always in pain lololol) Tagging you ladies because I know Helena is mad at me lol and the loml likes this series and I appreciate her! @zennyshoneybunch @glitterybitchwitch

The gang was all gathered together and Kaeli was enjoying all the lighthearted chatting that was going on amongst her peers. She decided that they wouldn't have to get down to business. They could start talking serious logistics and planning next time they all would meet. There was no lull or shortage of laughter in the conversation going around the room. The Untouchables and the tuition kids were thriving and lively mixed together. Even though there was a bit too much teasing of Jumin from the scholarship kids, even he seemed to be having a pleasant time.

Seven was getting in his daily dose of driving Yoosung insane when his watch started to set off a rapid beeping noise. At the same time, a small pager type device in Samantha's back pocket began to do the same. Her head whipped in Sevens direction and the sternness in her face made Seven wince. His face scrunched and a look in his narrowed eyes saying “please please don't kill me.”

“You told him I wasn't going to training the other night, right?”

“Well here's the thing, Sam. I uh, didn't goooo.” Seven rubbed the back of his neck and shot a smile at her trying to diffuse the situation. “And not only did I not go, I didn't tell him that I wasn't going.”

“WHAT?!” Samantha turned her body in a sharp motion starting a sprint but fumbling. Using her hands to slap the floor and keep going so she didn't fall completely, Seven made his way bolting out of the doors with her. “IDIOT!! HE'S GOING TO KILL US!”

“I KNOW, I KNOW I'M SORRY! T_T” Seven and Sam were running down the halls out to the fresh open air of the campus, darting across the grounds of Cypress. Maneuvering their way in between passerby’s and vaulting over shrubbery and half walls.

“I swear if he takes away our garage privileges, I'll kill you Saeyoung Choi!

“Sam if you don't stop nagging me and pick up the pace we're already dead!”

They had made it into one of the large athletic buildings on campus and were now sprinting to the escalators that led down to the areas only accessible to certified personnel. Running down the steps of the escalator, swerving through the few people patiently riding the escalator in the proper fashion. They reached the card readers and ran their ID badges in front of them. Not patient enough for the gate to open, Sam hurdled it and Seven slipped through the small crack it had opened already. A few more hallways and the two made it to their assigned training facility. Both hunched over, hands resting on their knees and catching their breath, they began to apologize profusely to the tall and sturdy man before them.

He was built. In jogger sweatpants and a v-neck tee that hugged his biceps. He stood there in his signature purple, arms crossed and hair tied back.

“Ah, so some form of communication IS working for the two of you. I was worried since I hadn't heard from anyone.”

“Vanderwood we're so sorry, we-Hmmphh!” As seven tried to reply he was hit in the gut my a heavy medicine ball. Sam had kept quiet. She had known better. Any apology or excuse would just piss their boss off further.

“Shut up. Your running here in a panic warmed you up. Good. Tactical obstacle course...now.”

Saeyoung and Sam hustled to the locker room to change. They both immediately began to strip off their everyday clothes. There was no hesitation or embarrassment. They were both used to this. They had been partners for 2 years now. Samantha was always a little bit faster at changing. Maybe it was a girl thing. She already was ready down to her shoes. All black. A plain black baseball cap, a black sports bra, black running pants, and all black converse sneakers. Standing with her arms crossed and her right hip popped out, she watched seven with an arched brow. Biting her bottom lip.

He was sweating from the running they had just done. He was only in black sweatpants. The redhead didn't look like much in civilian clothes but underneath the loose fabric he had always hid behind, he was trim and fit. The v shape leading to his nether region was very defined and his set of abs were toned and clearly sculpted. His biceps weren't as big as Vanderwoods. He wasn't busting out of his shirts, but you could tell he was a hacker. He used the muscles in his arms a lot. From the shoulder down to his fingertips. He ran his hands through his hair, pushing his bangs back and caught wind of Samantha's gaze.

“What pervert?”

“Nothing,” Samantha said, a smirk on her lips. “It's just a real shame you have that mouth on you. Plus, You kind of smell.” She tossed him his t-shirt and made her way out of the locker room.

“Brat.” Seven mumbled under his breath.

“Saeran? Saeran? SAERAN!” Liz slapped her hands on the counter.

“What!” He stood up from where he had been leaning on the counter in the flower shop. Stretching his arms above his head and letting out a yawn.

“You were being creepy. Just staring like that.” They heard giggling coming from the far corner of the shop. “But apparently it didn't shoo the girls away.” Liz rolled her eyes and hopped up on the counter, taking a seat.

“Liz, you know you're not supposed to sit up there.”

“Yes, I just don't care. Where is your brother? He isn't answering his phone?”

“Aahh. That's actually why I was in that deadpan stare. I was thinking. What the hell are they keeping from us?”

Liz had pulled out an apple from her backpack and took a monstrous bite. She spoke through a full mouth. “What? Who? Saeyoung and Samantha? Keeping what?”

“I know they go to training for athletics but it's more than that. Like they've been gone ever since they ran out of the room earlier today. It's been hours.”

“Oh calm down rebel boy. Afraid they're having some secret affair?”

“Gross. No.” “Yeah. You're right. Ahahahahaha. That would be something else. Anyway, I just came by to see if you had heard from them. I want to go get a milkshake. And since you're still working and also wouldn't give me a piggyback ride like Saeyong would, I'm not inviting you.” Saeran rolled his eyes and Liz jumped from the counter and the bell to the flower shop chimed lightly.

“Good evening you two. It is nice to see you again.”

“Oh, Hi there, Jumin!! You are looking very handsome! Have you come to whisk me away and show me how the rich live?” Liz was lively and clearly joking but it had gone over his head.

“Why thank you, Miss Paradise. And unfortunately I don't exactly know what you mean but I am actually here to speak with Saeran.” Jumin spoke very calmly. You wouldn't even guess his inner monologue was shouting “Oh God I don't know what that means but it might be her making advances. What do I do? Jihyun is not here!”

Saeran could tell that Liz had confused the poor guy so he gave her a gentle nudge to the side. “Looking for me? What can I do for you, Jumin?”

“Ah well, the arrangement of flowers you had brought to us the other day. It was remarkable. I am holding another event soon and I would like to commission you and this small shop. I will pay any extra amount necessary to get this establishment all the things it will require for such a tall order.”

“Oh man, that's pretty decent of you, Jumin. But I should check with the owner first. She is elderly and I wouldn't want to overwhelm her.”

“Saeran, hush. It will be fine. HE'LL DO IT!” Liz jumped out in front of Saeran who irritatedly pushed her back out of the way.

“Liz, knock it off!”

“I understand. Please discuss with the owner. Also, I would like to extend an invitation to this event to all of you that are apart of this new group we have formed.”

Liz's eyes lit up with excitement and Saeran shot her a classic, calm your ass, look. Jumin spent a little more time than he had intended in the flower shop chatting with Liz and Saeran, and the girls who normally came to ogle and the boy with the white hair were now overwhelmed with the black haired eye candy they were now receiving as well.

Samantha climbed the ladder and made quick of hopping over the ledge and beginning to run when she heard someone shout her name. It was Vanderwood. If looks could kill. His glare was icy and as soon as he knew she felt it he flicked his eyes toward Saeyoung. Samantha knew what it meant. She was going to fast and not thinking of her partner. She ran back and leaned over the edge reaching down to her partner who was climbing the ladder. He took her hand and she hoisted him up over the ledge. The two began to run. Jumping, hurdling, sliding, flipping. Doing whatever they needed to in order to get from point A to point B. The simulation was a bit harder today since Vanderwood was clearly pissed at them. Saeyoung was never as fast as Samantha but if he really wanted to he was sure he could at least keep pace with her, but he always hung back just a bit so he could focus on hacking doors or locks for her. Basically clearing a path for them. Sam was always amazed at how quick he was when it came to hacking. Even though Samantha didn't like to wait for her partner, the two were still always so in tune. When Seven got tripped up and found himself caught in the arms of a bot, Samantha made quick work of turning around and throwing a small tranquilizer at the bought precisely where in between the eyes would be on an actual human. Saeyoung was always quick to shoot or disarm enemies that came in from the sides if Samantha was occupied on whatever was in front of them. They had each other's backs.

They finally finished their tactical run of the course and approached Vanderwood, laughing and high fiving. Quite pleased with themselves. Vanderwood, however, was not so amused.

“That was rookie. Too many mistakes. Sloppy. So miss training again and the consequences will be severe.”

Samantha and Saeyoung stood in silence. Normally the two would bicker with each other or say something just to be a smart ass, but they knew Vanderwood was not in the mood. Less than he usually was even.

“Now listen. You guys are getting an assignment.”

“YaHHOOO!” Seven jumped up and exclaimed. “ow!” And then immediately found Sam's fist in the side of his bicep.

“What kind of assignment, Vandy?” Samantha was met with cold cold eyes. “Vanderwood. Sorry.”

“There is going to be an event for elitists. There are rumors of it being targeted. We are flagging this one because there's a bit of an unusual circumstance. Two parties are holding events. The big corporate hot shot they should be after isn't their target. It's his son.” Vanderwood handed Seven a picture and Samantha didn't even need to look.

“You're going to watch over the event. Behind the scenes and protect your mark. Got it?”

“Got it.” The two partners responded abruptly.

“Alright, we'll have an official briefing soon. Go clean up.” Vanderwood left without a second glance and Samantha took her baseball cap off, chucking it to the side.

“Shit. Is it?” She tilted her head back in exasperation.

“Yup.” Seven pinned the picture against Sam's chest and began to make his way to the locker room. “The Trust Fund Kid.”

[meulinthekittytroll]

Rant af I'm sorry

Yunno I don’t know what my dads problem is with my boyfriend. He doesn’t like him, at all. And I honestly have no idea why. Maybe it’s because this is the only relationship he’s seen me in? I’m not sure But if my dad could have seen all my past relationships he’d understand why B is probably the only one I could ever want to be with. There were some major people who impacted my life in negative ways and I’m still recovering from them. I will point out the major ones First there was David. He tried to kill me once, and manipulated me and made my self esteem plummet. (Grade 3-7) Yes, I know, 3rd through 7th grade and he tried to KILL you? Are you over exaggerating? No I’m not lol. Then there was Devin. He was the first boy to cheat on me. Which made my self esteem plummet even further. He also was the first boy to treat me… like I wasn’t a person I guess?? I don’t know how to describe that one but it made me feel very inferior. (Grade 6) young I know but shoosh this shit can happen at any age if you let it happen. Then there was Max. We never actually dated, but he is still very important because oh boy I crushed on this boy HARD from 8th to 10th grade. He and I had a thing going on in 8th grade but never quite did anything about it which only made me like him more. Then 9th grade came along and we only got closer but still didn’t quite do anything. (I also had a boyfriend at that time that I’ll get to in JUST a second) Finally 10th grade came along and I FINALLY made a move, only to get shot down, HARD. That was partly my fault I suppose for being too scared to tell him my feelings earlier than that. But still, ouch ouch that hurt me a lot. Jacob, the boyfriend mentioned just a second ago, this was a long distance relationship. He was a couple years older than me and I had never met him in person, I dated him because I was extremely lonely. This lasted almost a year, but not quite. It started out really fun because I could lowkey flirt with Max but still have someone to go home to and text and get the feelings of love that Max didn’t give me, I know I know that’s borderline cheating but hey I was in 9th grade and I was stupid in love with Max and it was just a messy time in my life and Ive obviously learned from it and cheating is disgusting ugh……. ihatemyselfAAAAnyways, as the months rolled by, things slowly went downhill with this Jacob kid. He just was a downer. We both were depressed and got even sadder when we realized we couldn’t meet for a long time blah blah you get the point everything was a mess and he made me extremely unhappy, that was a very toxic relationship and I’m glad nothing ever became of it. I haven’t talked to him in almost a year, I hope he’s doing well. Also in 10th grade I developed this crush on this boy named Anthony and he was a dorky kind of cute, tall and scrawny but still muscly, I dug it. I flat out told him I liked him bc I didn’t want another Max situation and he seemed interested at first until he told one of his friends that doubled as my friend that he wasn’t interested so I obviously found out and got shot down again. Ouch! When that didn’t happen I started talking to a good friend I also met over the internet named Gavin and wowie did this boy make me feel wanted and loved. I had a brief thing with him previously but it never followed through, due to the fact that he was a dickbag and cheated on me and blamed it on some personality disorder where he needed more than one girlfriend to be satisfied *cough* bullshit *cough* but anyways, I tried it with him again the summer going into 11th grade c he was sooooooo sorry and loved me soooo much and wanted to marry me (gag!) anyways, things were good for a while but then he slowly stopped talking to me and cheated again and all this other shit and as my confidence in myself slowly went down the garbage disposal as it had been since like 4th grade, I finally told myself enough is enough and told him I was done with him. I told myself I was done with boys until the right one came along and treated me right. As a junior at a new school with no friends, I assumed it would take until junior year of COLLEGE to even consider boys again (besides possibly sleeping around once I got too tired of being a virgin kek) But yunno, life throws unexpected things at you. I remember the night so clearly. I went to bed finally content with being alone, not having to worry about any boy cheating on me or making me feel bad or putting me down constantly. Then, wouldn’t you know it, the NEXT FUCKIN DAY, this super duper cute boy I had seen a few times around school walked into my first period photography class. And I thought to myself “fuck.” Bc I immediately knew something would happen between us. This boy was he perfect mix of goofy, nerdy, and cute as fuck, with a hint of holy shit you’re SEXY. Exactly my type. Tall, dark, and handsome (a spongebob reference has never been more relatable) ((besides maybe “i’m surrounded my idiots”)) ANNYYYWAYS Me and this kid start talking bc I grew a pussy (not balls bc balls are sensitive and vaginas take a pounding) and gave the kid my Snapchat. That same day I reaaallly wanted a chance to talk to him so I posted a pic on my story of me and my dog havin’ a blast (rip Lily u will be missed ily thank you for being the reason the loml messaged me for the first time) anywho, HE MESSAGED ME FIRST AND WE STARTED TALKING AND SHIT bc he thought my dog was cute af (which she was!!!!) and we kept talking and talking and found we had so much in common and finallyyyy we admitted to each other we liked each other and started dating soon after and I’m spare you all the mushy details of how that came to be. Back to the reason why I started writing this little rant/story in the first place. My dad borderline hates the guy. But what my dad doesn’t understand (which is a lot but these next few sentences are important) Every single relationship I’ve had, was with a guy who has done nothing but lead me on, cheat on me, or abuse me (both physically (which only happened twice thank god) and mentally (which happened SO MUCH OH MY GOD it’s so much harder to catch that than actually getting physically abused) Yet, my current boyfriend…. we’re gonna call him B, bc his name is unique and I don’t want people knowing who I am if this ever gets read by someone who knows me and cares enough to read though all of this. B is the most beautiful person I have ever met, inside and out. He makes me feel important. He makes every day a blessing. When I first moved in with my dad in the beginning of 11th grade, I was a complete shut in. I hardly ever left my room besides to eat and bathe. After I met B, I started opening up and spending time with the family, and I made such amazing friends at school that I would have never talked to if it weren’t for him. B makes everything exciting. Of course we have had our fair share of bumps in the road, but ever healthy relationship does. And yunno what else healthy relationships do? They talked them through and fix the problems!!! B has made it so clear to me that I am worth all of the shit that goes on sometimes, and believe me I can be crazy so that is saying something. And oh boy is he a package deal too. He’s constantly got something going on, he’s quite frankly an idiot sometimes. But hey, he’s my idiot! I’ve never woken up and been happy about being alive since I was like 10, until B came around. B completely flipped my view of the world around. We tell each other this thing all the time because weird kinda opposites when it comes to certain things. He looks like the moon, but is the sun. And I look like the sun, but am the moon. He has dark hair and he’s got olive skin (very Italian looking) looking like a human version of the moon. But he has this optimistic view on life, the personality of the sun. Then there’s me; golden brown hair with fair skin, I look like the sun. But I’m kinda a pessimist, and I also am quite the night owl (he definitely isn’t!) personality of the moon. That might not make sense to you, but it does to us. I’m getting side tracked. The whole fuckin point is, I hadn’t felt true happiness since I was 10 until I met this guy. My dad says we aren’t going to last. My dad barely even lets me see him outside of school once a week, and when he does let me he always gives this disapproving scowl and scoff when I ask to see my boyfriend (who I have been with for well over a year now) once a week. Oh and by the way, he LIVES with his girlfriend who he’s only been dating a few more months than B and I have been. I wonder what he’d feel like if the roles were reversed. Yunno? Like he gets to see his gf every day and sleep next to her ever night, but the moment I want to see B, I get a scowl and a reluctant confirmation that I can see him on the day I asked to see him on. I’m sorry for all this rant and I know it’s probably all over the place but I just really really had to get it out because I don’t know why my dad is so unhappy with me being with a guy who makes me so happy. It’s not like B is a delinquent. He has two jobs (one is a photography business, he does really well with it actually he shoots for weddings and shit he’s an amazing photographer ((he only took the photography class at my school for the credit and to laugh at how low quality everything was at the school and how badly they taught it))) and he’s polite and respectful. My father truly has no reason to not like him, he has no idea how badly I’ve been treated up until I met B. B treats me better than anyone ever has, including my dad. Everyone else in my family loves him! Not nearly as much as I love the son of a bitch tho. I truly grew up from 3rd grade on getting belittled and cheated on and made to feel terrible, and if my dad knew that or understood it, maybe he wouldn’t hate the boy that made me happy to be alive again. Thank u for the ppl who took the time to read this through even tho I doubt anyone will do that bless u ilysm