#maybe one day they’ll let you appear

[seijorhi]

do you think yan! kenma and yan! kuroo would be into making the reader perform on Kenma's streams or is that only for their eyes?

Kenma could go either way, but Kuroo only likes the idea in theory.

They settle on a compromise which is the reader sucking kenma off while he streams, out of view of the camera

[vnti-vntiety-recs]

PAGES OF A HEART (M)

★  PAIRING: HockeyPlayer! Haechan x reader

☆ WORD COUNT: 9k

★ GENRE(S): strangers to lovers, Hate to love, Smut

☆ SUMMARY: You have been begging your campus librarian to let you join the staff for ages, but when she finally lets you on, you’re disappointed to find out that the campus’s star hockey player also joins. Can the two of you work things out after a rough start?

★ ☆ WARNINGS: Sexual intercourse, Unprotected sex, 

☆★ NOTES: Wrap it before you tap it. This was supposed to be fluff but I was weak and had to do hate to lovers. Like lol, I bet no one can guess my favorite trope! Bickering is my love language ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. Leave nice comments, please <3 

Peace, escapism, and silence.

That is what you usually find when you go to the library. You love going to the library, whether it be to study, read or just get away from your normally hectic dorm. Today is different, though; today you will find all of those things and more. 

When you walk into the library, you greet Mrs. Lee as normal. She was the sole staff member of your college's small, cozy library. Mrs. Lee takes immense pride in her job and refuses to work with anyone else. She is very particular about the upkeep of the books, and honestly, you love her for that. The books stay in pristine condition thanks to her care. Even the dean has acknowledged her efforts. Ever since she took over the library, the campus has had to spend less money on maintenance, so he doesn't feel the need pressure her to hire more staff.

The only downside is that if Mrs. Lee gets sick, they’ll have to close the library since there is no one else to run it. Luckily, that hasn't happened yet, but you've made it your life mission to make sure it never does. You love going to the library, and you have been trying to convince her for months to let you join the staff. You weren't even asking for full-time, just maybe on the days she wanted to take some time off. You think you’re making progress; she gave you a “maybe” last week instead of a flat-out no.

You make your way to your favorite spot in the library before someone else gets to it. Normally, you arrive at the library as soon as it opens every day to secure your preferred spot. It's a little overkill because not many students wake up at 7 to make it to the library, but it was close to finals, so you wouldn't be surprised to see a few faces. Today you were only 5 minutes later than usual, but it seems that's all it took. 

Right there, sitting in the nook at the large window in the back corner of the library, is the prettiest man you have ever laid eyes on. The morning light shone over his tan skin like it was honey. His cute, plump lips blow at the messy hair that hangs in his eyes. He shifted his soft brown hair back with his hand before flipping to the next page in his book. 

Speechless.

You couldn't do anything but gawk at the man who sat in your designated seat. Normally, you would have passive-aggressively walked by the person, giving them an evil look, on your way to find somewhere else to sit, but you couldn't even manage that. You were expecting him to catch you with your mouth hanging open, but you caught yourself off guard with what you did next. 

He's struggling again to brush his hair out of his face, and you can't take it anymore. Your feet move before you can think and your hands are not to far behind as they dig in your bag for your spare headband. You kept one of those soft, stretchy headbands in your bag just in case you wanted to keep your hair out of your face.

In just a quick few steps, your standing in front of him, hand outstretched, offering up your headband. When he looks up at you, your breath almost catches. He is so freaking handsome. Before, it was impossible to notice, but his face and neck are covered in the most beautiful beauty marks, resembling stars. Up close, his lips appear soft, and he looks at you with the roundest doe eyes. You will not have this fine man thinking Your a weirdo So you force the air back into your lungs and speak to him.

“I'm sorry, I just thought you might want this... for your hair,” you say awkwardly. 

"Thank you; my coach keeps telling me I should cut it," he says with a soft smile, taking the headband from you. Placing the book down, he raises his hair out of his eyes with the headband. He had such a beautiful face that it should have been illegal for his hair to ever cover it up. You steal a quick peek at the book he was reading while he occupies himself with that. 

Oh Lord, you might actually be in love. He was reading a book by one of your favorite authors. The book he was reading was the final installment in a series you have been reading since high school. The book was actually just published a few months ago. You try so hard not to look like a fangirl, but you figure since he's reading it, he'll understand.

“Oh my God, is that midnight’s crossing? I just finished that book last week. The series is so good I love Vora; she's one of my favorite characters! She had such a well-written character arc in the second book.” You gush on about the book. You don't want to sound like your rambling so you cut your rant short. His soft smile makes you feel comfortable and you return it shyly.

“Yeah, I actually only just picked up the series recently. Normally, I don't have much time to read but I couldnt put the book down. I read the first three books in one month.” Clearly more interested in the conversation than you had initially assumed, he sits up a little straighter. “Vora was an alright character, but I think Theo is a more interesting character. I think that's why I'm really enjoying this book because it centers more on his backstory.” 

Theo!? Maybe your not so in love. Theo wasn't a terrible character, but he was definitely written to appeal to a male audience. Theo’s character was your typical macho man; you didn't really care that much for his story line. 

The poor guy doesn't even know his favorite character was going to get killed off in this book. One would think he would have noticed how strange it was that a minor supporting character would suddenly have a backstory in the series' final book. You had seen this pattern before, and it usually ended up in a character's death

“Theo’s alright,” you say. “He's gonna get a crazy fight sequence near the end.” 

His face lights up, and he shows you a beautiful, toothy grin. “really!? I can't wait; I've been waiting on them to give him a good fight!” 

You almost feel bad for…..”What was your name?”

“Haechan, and you?”

You tell him your name and let him get back to his book. He would soon find out that Theo's grand battle would be his last, and you did not want to stick around for that. It was a small prank in good fun. Sure, he was insanely handsome, but he stole your favorite spot. Not to mention, he thinks your favorite character is mid. You go find another corner and crack open your own book. You read for about 2 hours before you have to scurry off to your morning classes

Wood, leather, ink, and coffee

That's what you smell when you walk into the library saturday morning. You love the smell of the library. It's so earthy and cozy that you can't help but feel at home in the confines of its four walls. 

You got side tracked yesterday but today would be different. Today you were certain you would convince Mrs.Lee to let you check out books on the other side of the counter for once. You stroll in on time, no later than 7 a.m., and march your way over to her desk. 

Before you can even open your mouth to do your weekly pleading, she beats you to it.

“Yes! You can help out!” She huffs exasperatedly. “I only have so many years left to live, and each day you bother me, it's like I'm wasting my last precious moments.” 

Geez, you didn't think you got under Mrs. Lee’s skin that badly. Oh well, it paid off in the end! You were official! You were the only other staff member in the library. You felt so honored; you earned this!

“I would be more than happy, Mrs. Lee! I’ve been waiting for this for months. I won't let you down!” You beam.

Mrs. Lee gives you a warm smile and places a congratulatory hand on your shoulder. “I've been thinking about what you said, and you’re right. I can't stay cooped up in this library forever. I want to start a garden at home, but I’ve never had the time.” 

“That's great! I hope all goes well!” You encourage the older women. "So, when do I start?”

“In just a few moments, actually. I'll need to show you guys around the staff room and  how I like things organized,” she sighs, getting her pen and clipboard ready.

“You guys?” You question. You are praying you heard her incorrectly. Who else could Mrs. Lee trust enough to help run the library? Hell, as far as you knew, she only ever spoke to you! 

"Yes, we have another person joining us this morning. My grandson needs some extra credit, so I agreed to sign off on it if he helped out around here.” 

"So, where is he?” You ask

“Should be here soon; I told him I'd make his coach bench him if he were late,” she grits her teeth in annoyance. 

Like clockwork, the doors to the library open, and there he is, just a few feet away from the main desk.

“Theo!?” you say in shock

“Theo? No, That's my grandson” Mrs. Lee corrects 

“Its Haechan, and your a liar,” he corrects bitterly. 

Welp…It looks like He finished the book

“i didn't lie! He fought valiantly! ” You argue,

“He died!” he quips back, rolling his eyes as he makes his way to the counter. He slings his backpack on the surface and props himself up against it,leaning across to scowl in your face.

"Well, maybe if he—” you continue, but Mrs. Lee interrupts you.

“Children please! Goodness gracious, act your age and cut this out!” She exclaimed in disappointment. “We have far too many things to cover”

“Yes Mrs.lee”

“Yes grandma”

She gives him a stern look and he straightness himself immediately “Yes, mrs.lee”

Mrs. Lee showed you two around the library and the staff room before she went on a long-hour rant explaining exactly how she wanted the books to be organized and cared for. You listened intently and took notes. You would sneek peaks at Haechan from time to time, and he just stood there, nodding along to everything she said. No way was he listening! The stupid jock doesn't belong here! What sport did he even play? He was too handsome to be put out on a field! You were half way through cooking a plan to find his coach and giving them a piece of your mind for potentially ruining such a beautiful face, but then you realized you were supposed to be upset at him.

“are you even listening?” you whisper once Mrs Lee has her back turned. 

“Mind your business, Vora!” He says it with a lazy roll of his eyes. “You know, that's probably why you like her so much; she's so holier than thou. You must think your so righteous.” He slanders you.

Your forehead creases in aggravation. “Yeah, says the Theo simp! He's such a meathead; all he can think of is fighting, which is exactly why he ended up dead!” you spit back.

He opens his mouth to challenge you, but Mrs. Lee turns around before he can.

“Alright, I think that's everything, kids. Did I go to fast? Were you able to understand me? Maybe I should explain. It's one more time-”

“NO!” You both yell in unison.

“We got it, Mrs. Lee; seriously, I promise.” You smile confidently at her.

“ok then. Well, I'll head out early today and leave the rest up to you. I'll come back later to see how your doing.”

You try to stay positive. This wouldn't be so bad, right?

It's not that bad. If you call two hours of complete silence “not that bad,”

You did not expect your relationship with the cute boy who first caught your eye to turn out like this. You felt bad; Haechan did nothing wrong to you. His only crime was relating to a character that you were almost certain was written as satire. And trash-talk your favorite character. And stealing your favorite spot in the library that one time....ok maybe he had a few crimes under his belt, but they were nothing too serious.

Other than the egregious silence, things were going smoothly. You thought he wasn't paying attention, but you soon found out he was paying attention even more than you. You are honestly grateful that he was here; otherwise, you would have been stuck with a very angry Mrs. Lee lecturing you for two hours on not properly shelving the books. 

"Look, I'm sorry ok? This silence is driving me crazy. Can't we put this behind us?” You crack.

“You started it, princess.”

"Oh, that's really mature of you to point fingers,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“What, then is it my fault? I just wanted to enjoy my book.” Haechan glares at you.

He had a point. You two had started off fine until you started bagging on his favorite character. 

“Hey, I'm trying to do the mature thing and apologize; work with me here,” you say while organizing the checked-in books and preparing them for Haechan to shelve later. You figured he was a little better at that than you were, so you allowed him to fully take over the duty.

He looks up from his spot at the computer. He was fulfilling a request from a student to have a book ordered over from a different campus.

Haechan hits the submit button and sighs. “If we’re going to get through this, we're going to have to at least tolerate each other,” Haechan says.

“Fake besties in front of Mrs. Lee?” You suggest and hold a hand out in a truce.

He shakes your hand in return and gives you a devilish smile. “Don’t let me catch you on campus princess”

“Wouldn't count on it.” 

Sure, technically, you two didn't completely make up, but at least you made progress. At least the tension is alleviated. Sure, you could stick your nose in a book and ignore each other for your entire shift, but Mrs. Lee would kill you if she caught you slacking off. Making small talk with Haechan was the only way to make it through the day. Not to mention you enjoy watching the way he tilts his head in annoyance, tongue in cheek, when you ask him a million questions to pass the time.

“YOU GET TO SPEND TIME WITH THE LEE HAECHAN!? GOALIE OF THE NEO HOCKEY TEAM?” your roommate raves. “AND YOUR ONLY TELLING ME THIS NOW!”

“Jeez Rina I didn't think it was that big of a deal? Plus, it's only been a week,” you say. 

You were lounging around your dorm room when you explained your recent absence to your roommate. She was hounding you for details on where you had been. She assumed you were off sleeping around, but unfortunately for her and her everlasting need for drama, you've been spending time taking care of the library. You didn't think she would get that much entertainment out of it until you made the mistake of mentioning Haechan.

“Yea right! Every girl on campus has their eye on him! He's one of the star players! All he ever has time for is practice! and now apparently, library dates.” she adds.

“They are NOT dates. We can barely stand each other.” you argue. You lay on the old spring mattress and look up at the ceiling 

You didn't know he was such a big deal. Sure, he was handsome, so you assumed he was pretty popular, but this was a different ballpark. 

“I have seriously never seen him anywhere off the ice; how are you getting him all alone? Come on, tell me your secrets,” she pries. She probably thinks there's something going on, but you swear up and down there isn't.

“His grandma is making him help out around the library. Something about him needing extra credit or something? I don't know, but you're giving me a headache.” You didn't want to think about it. 

No wonder the man had such an ego. A Star hockey player? What was he even doing in the library? You had a million more questions you wanted to ask him next time you saw him

Today Haechan was forcing you to help him shelve the books. You usually just leave him to do it, but you guys had a few carts full of returned books that needed shelving. You two were towards the back of the library, finishing up the last of the books, when he decided to press your buttons. 

You see, you and Haechan were on better terms than when you first started, but you two are still at odds on occasion. There was definitely still tension as you went at each other's throats.

“Isn’t it kind of sad to spend all your time at the library? You don’t have any friends?” He says.

“This is fun for me,” you explain simply.

“This is fun?” He asks.

“What do you consider ‘fun’?” You ask. “Don’t you play sports? What's fun about chasing a ball?” You ask.

"Its hockey,” he corrects, shelving another book. 

“Oh? And somehow you can read?”

He turns to you slowly, and you can practically feel the frustration rolling off of him.

“I know your only friends are the characters in your little books, but real people have hobbies. Find one and leave me alone.” he says

You had about thirty minutes before Mrs. Lee came back to check on you two, and you had a few things you wanted to get off your chest.

“Yeah, like your real hobby isn’t getting a puck knocked into your numb skull? Tell me Haechan, what do your teammates think of you spending time with your nose stuck in a book instead of being on the ice?” 

“Go fuck Yourself”

“Only if you watch me” You grin back at him smugly.

He licks his teeth, sends you a devilish smile in disbelief, and leans down to meet your eyes.

“You are so lucky my grandma likes you.”

“Or what?” you ask, taking a teasing step back. You knew what game you wanted to play. You weren't just some bookworm; you were a cat, and Haechan was a mouse that you were dying to play with.

He takes another step towards you, almost closing the distance between you, but stops short when he hears the sharp click of heels walking towards you two.

“Smile and play nice,” he grits out with a plastic smile before turning to face his grandma.

“Oh my, nice work, you two! It looks like everything's been put up properly,” she says as she runs her hands along the spines of a few books, checking that the author's names are in alphabetical order. “You seem to be getting along just fine too! How sweet!” 

“Couldn't be any happier to work with uh…her” Haechan feigns like he forgot your name.

You know that Dipshit didn't forget your name; he just wanted to piss you off. Play nice, my ass.

"Yes, Mrs.Lee Haechan has been doing a wonderful job. I think he really deserves that extra credit.” 

He looks suspiciously at you.

“Oh yes, I think so too dear, but I wouldn't want to leave you here all day by yourself. We can still use him for a little while longer”

The realization hit him a beat later. You figured if you told his grandma how good he's doing, she would give him the extra credit already, and then he would have no reason to stick around. 

“I do wish I could tell his coach how well he's doing on his extra credit. I’ve just been so busy these days,” Mrs.Lee says.

It had taken some time, but you had finally put it together. He was doing this so he could play in the upcoming season! He must have been benched due to not passing a class; now he was stuck here doing extra credit. That explains the extra free time he has and why he's not on the ice as much.

No pass, no play.

"Well, Mrs. Lee, I can always send a message to his coach for you?” You offer.

"Well, that would be perfect, sweetheart. Here, I have some things in my office that I want you to take to him when you get a chance. Come now,” she waves you over as she shuffles excitedly to her office.

You follow behind her closely and send a quick grin over your shoulder at Haechan's stunned shock. You were playing a dangerous game with him. No one comes between him and the ice.

Did you want to end up in an all-out war with the Neo's goalie? Absolutely not, but that's exactly how the last few days have played out. Coach Choi wouldn’t be back on campus until Friday, so you had a few days to hang Haechan's fate over his head.

“Just wait until Mr. Choi finds out you called me a bitch” You would say when he was mean to you.

“You think Mr. Choi will let you play if he finds out your trying to skip out on library duty to go party?” You told him one day when he came to you asking to cover a shift for him.

If Haechan heard you say Mr. Choi one more time, he was going to lose it. First of all, it was Coach Choi, and he was sure his coach was still going to let him play; he was one of their star players. Haechan wasn't going to just sit back and let you bully him; he had a few tricks up his sleeves too.

“Grandma, I mean Mrs.Lee I brought you some fresh fruit; you can eat it with the tea I made you,” he says sweetly to his grandmother. 

“Oh, what a sweet boy! I knew working at this library would do you some good,” she gushes over him. 

She has been raving about her adorable grandson and how wonderful he was for the entire week. You knew it was all an act. He knew the most important thing to you was being Mrs. Lee's favorite.

For every “Mr.Choi” you threw at him, he would get a “sweet boy” from Mrs. Lee in return.

It didn't end there, though. Some of the Neo's are popping in more frequently now. It had been almost every day now that your favorite spot was occupied by some stupid, hocky jock with a pretty girl sitting on his lap. You had been looking forward to spending all day in your favorite nook after Mrs. Lee told you she only needed Haechan for the day. Now, as you shuffle around the tall bookcases of the library looking for a new spot, Haechan just smiles at you from over the counter.

Taking Mrs. Lee's praise was one thing, but desecrating your favorite spot with smelly hockey gear was another.

"Who stocked the books last?" Mrs. Lee calls out after doing her end-of-shift walk-through. She still didn't fully trust you and Haechan, so she would always walk through after you were done for the day.

"I just finished stocking them a few minutes ago," Haechan replies from the computer behind the counter. Somehow, he was able to run DOOM on the outdated computer system.

"I must be too lenient with you these days; you're making mistakes. I think you need more time with the book to learn their proper place!" She scolds

"What are you talking about I—"

"You shelved a book that hasn't been checked back in! I have been looking for this book all week! It was only thanks to Y/N that I found it" She finishes, waiving around a copy of Macbeth.

"I definitely checked that in!"

"No excuses! You're working the library all week by yourself if you still want that extra credit," she finalizes. All you can do is grin over her shoulder as he sends you a death glare.

Today was Friday meaning, all the fun was soon to be over. Haechan was let off easy, he was supposed to work today. Mrs. Lee wanted the library to herself today; she said she missed the smell of the books. You hope you didn't have to run into him, you had to focus on your meeting with Mr. Choi today.

It was midday when you decided to finally make your way over to the gym. You pull your jacket on, knowing it would be cold where you were going. As much as you tease him, you weren't actually going to say anything bad about Haechan to his coach. As much as you hate to admit it, you did believe he deserved that extra credit. He had been doing a really good job in the library. 

You finally reach your destination and push open the polished white doors to the gym. It was like the building was brand new; everything looked pristine. You were jealous that this was where all the school funding was going and not to the poor library, which could definitely use a remodeling. You shake the thought from your head and you walk further into the building.

In the center of the building was a huge ice rink, and surrounding it were cushined stands that almost reached the ceiling. Massive. That's all you could think of when you took in the scenery.

You snap out of your dazed state and scan the arena. You see movement on the ice and notice a blur of messy hair and tan skin effortlessly making its way across the ice. 

Haechan was running drills up and down the ice, maneuvering his puck in and out of obstacles cleanly. 

You make your way closer to him, and he's so focused that he doesn't notice you yet. Now that your up close, you can see the sweat as it glistens on his skin and drips down his neck. Man's was putting in work on that ice, and you immediately felt bad for trashing it before. This was Haechan's craft, and you could see just how much he cared for it. 

“I thought you were the goalie?” 

He skits to a stop and turns to your voice, confused. Once he realizes it's you, he squints his eyes suspiciously at you.

“Here to snitch to coach?”

“Humor me, and you���ll find out,” you smile.

He skates over to you and collides heavily with the barrier dividing you, making you jump. “I am the goalie; you know I'm the goalie.” He answers

“I thought you could only stay in the net, though?” You ask curiously 

"Technically, I can play outside of my net; I just can't cross the center line. "It would be stupid of me to play to far from the goal. These exercises are just for practice.”

"Where is everyone else?”

“Teams pissed I'm benched, so they won't play the ice with me until I'm officially back in the game,” he shrugs, but they can help him torment you throughout the week? Some team he's got.

"I don't understand men," you say, rolling your eyes.

“Its called tough love babe, you get it,” he teases. You fake punch him through the plexiglass, and he flinches jokingly. 

“You wish,” you mumble.

A comfortable silence settles as you just stare at each other with hesitant smiles gracing your lips, replacing the usual scowls.

“Why not help me out?”He asks

“With what?”

“Practice with me.”

“You want me?  on ice? I don't think so,” you laugh.

"Oh come on, Ice Princess afraid of a little cold? What happened to all that bite you had before? Afraid you'll lose some of the few brain cells you have?”

Oh he was so on.

He takes you into the storage room and helps you fit some spare skates onto your feet. He shoves a hockey stick into your arms and helps you back onto the ice. 

Oh it was so over

You felt ridiculous. You had no idea how to hold the hockey stick and you could barely stand on the ice. You figured Haechan must be getting a kick out of watching you struggle, but once you look up from watching your every step, you find nothing but worry in his eyes.

“Be careful not to fall; it's easy to bruise on the ice,” he warns gently as he skates circles around you, literally and hypothetically.

“I don't need your help; I can figure it out on my own,” you grumble And take a brave step forward. 

You knew the basics of ice skating, but that was just it; you knew it. Actually, putting it into action was a lot harder than you thought. You knew you were supposed to bend your knees, make a V shape with your feet, and lean forward slightly. That was the easy part, but actually moving? Not computing. 

You hear a soft chuckle behind you, and you throw a glare over your shoulder. 

“Let me help you,” Haechan laughs lightheartedly “can't help me practice if you can't skate dummy.” 

"This was your idea" You remind him

He glides over to you and hovers his hand on the middle of your back. Not fully touching you, but close enough, you know that he's there if you fall. You feel a bit more confident with him there, and you take your first step. You stumble immediately, but he's right there to catch you. He helps you right yourself and moves to skate in front of you. He grabs your hands and holds them steadily.

“The issue is that your taking steps; don't try to walk on the ice; push off and glide,” he explains. 

You follow his lead as he skates backwards. You stumble a few more times but your starting to find the rhythm to it. You can't help but smile excitedly at him. When you try to jump with joy, you immediately slip and fall. You close your eyes, bracing yourself for the impact of the cold, wet ice, but instead collide with a firm chest. You had fallen forward into Haechan's arms, and when you lifted your head up, you found yourself a breath away from his face. You can literally see your breath mingling in the cold air of the rink.

Time is frozen, and neither of you moves as you watch each other, waiting for the other to make a move. You lick your lips, and you can feel his grasp on your waist tighten at the sight.  

“Can I ki-”

SLAM. The sound of a door echoes through the building as footsteps follow. You and Haechan part immediately, and you turned towards the source of the noise.

It was Mr. Choi, the exact reason you were here in the first place. It looked like he was leaving for the day. You really needed to talk to him and give him the things Mrs. Lee wanted you to.

“Oh! Mr. Choi, excuse me!” You call out to him and shuffle as best you can across the ice. Before you can even stumble, you feel an arm encircle your waist as they guide you across the ice, smoothly pulling you along. 

 You finally make it off the ice and waddle towards him. awkwardly hanging on to the  gaurd rail with the skates still on your feet. 

“Mr.choi Just. A moment.”

He finally turns to look at you and raises an eyebrow

“Mrs. Lee sent me; she wanted to go over Haechan’s progress with the extra credit but she's been too busy to come here herself,” you explain, a little out of breath.

The coach takes one look at your exhausted form and then at haechan before letting out a sigh.

“Follow me to my office,” he says, walking back the way he came.

You make your way to the nearest bench and down. You rid yourself of the deadly contraption on your feet. You grab your things and send Haechan a final smile. His eyes are glued to you as he circles the ice watching as you following Mr. Choi. You enter through the door you saw him walk through; it seems like the office is located in the locker room. You find the coach seated in his office, near the back of the locker room. As much as Haechan bothered you, he deserved his praise. You relay your report and don’t forget to give him the things Mrs. Lee had for him. 

“I'm happy to hear he's not causing any trouble for you”

“Of course not”

"please save me TT," you cry from inside.

"Well, keep me updated if anything changes; I know he can be a handful sometimes”

You smile at the comment and nod “I'll see you around, Mr.Choi.”

“Just call me Coach.” He corrects.

“Right,” you smile.

You stroll out and look over at the ice to find Haechan running his exercises again. He looks at you expectantly as he skates the ice skillfully.

“You'll find out soon,” you say, answering his silent question.

You heard the door open and close again, and Coach Choi appeared to have followed closely behind. Haechan gets called over, and you take this as your cue to leave the two alone. Hopefully he remembers your kindness and you can finally call a truce on this petty war.

Over next few days, things have been going great between you two. You were actually starting to enjoy Haechan's company. After giving good feedback to his coach, he decided you weren’t too bad. The time spent in the library together is filled with small laughs and light jokes at first, but as you two finally break from your apprehensive shell, you find yourselves completely opening up and letting your guard down.

Outside of the library, he's been teaching you how to skate, and you have been seeing more and more progress. You two even started buddy reading. This is how it should have been from the beginning. You didn't realize how much you wanted to get close to him until you finally did. 

You were currently on the rink with Haechan as you skated alongside him. You would follow behind him as he practiced and you would read aloud for him. Recently, he hadn't had time to read. His coach was pushing him to practice more as the season approached, so you read for him to ensure he didn't fall behind

You finish off a chapter and close the book. “how are we feeling about this chapter” 

“Too short; I feel like not much happened in this chapter,” he comments.

“I could read another if you like?” 

“Nah, I'm almost done,” he says as he comes to a stop to catch his breath. “lets wrap up”

You nod and make your way off the ice.

You busy yourself with untying your skates and haechan sits down next to you to untie his.

“when I'm back on the ice, are you gonna come watch me play?” he asks

Your wanted to answer right away but you find your mind wandering back to your conversation with your roommate all those weeks ago. Haechan was the hotshot player, who knew what kind of rumors would spread if you came to the game to support him

“I'm not really a hockey fan,” you say. It was true; you don't really follow sports.

“you wouldn't be my fan?” he teases

“especially not yours,” you joke back

“Seriously, it would mean a lot to me”

“when did you start caring about being seen with me?”

“since you stopped being annoying,”

Point taken.

“I'll think about it,” you say before you stand. Your make your way out and call over your shoulder, “don't fall behind on your chapters; I won't be able to read to you once they take you off the bench”

Mrs. Lee had finally concluded his extra credit, and once it was reported to his professor, his grade was updated, and he was good to play again. Of course, Mrs. Lee extended him the opportunity to continue working at the library, and when Haechan says he'll make time to stop by and see you, you believe him.

That was a mistake

It was stupid of you to think Haechan actually cared about spending time with you in the library. Once he was cleared to play, he put all his time back on the ice. 

If you crossed paths on campus, he would smile and wave, but there was nothing much outside of that. So what was all this for? Were you just there to help him kill time until he was back with his beloved team? You admit you started off really rocky, so you wouldn't put it past him, but lately you felt as though you really grew as friends. 

You knew how much the sport meant to him, but you couldn’t stop the hurt that followed. You were only human after all, and humans made stupid decisions.

It was finally the night of the first game of the season, and you sat in the stands as you watched the game unfold. Maybe Haechan was right to be cocky; he was really good at defending. You couldn't take your eyes off of him. The away team was down 15 points, and the game was coming to an end. If the team was good enough, they might have been able to turn the tables in the last quarter, but that doesn't happen as Haechan blocks almost every shot they attempt. He was quick and used his entire body to block his opponents shots. You had never seen him so focused before.

The buzzer sounds, and the crowd cheers. You come down the stands to give your congratulations. Haechan spots you as you approach and gives you a smile, opening his arms for a hug.

You weren't here for him.

You walk right past him and hug his teammate, Jeno. You had been getting closer with Jeno over the last few weeks. You had checked out a book for him one day and even helped him study it for his history class. You two have been talking ever since. Haechan's smile fell immediately. You wish you could have captured the look on his face. 

“Are you coming over to celebrate?” Jeno asks

“Of course I'll wait for you, ok?” You say and hug him tighter.

Haechan remains motionless, his face full of confusion and anger.

Jeno leaves you and heads back into the locker room.

Most of the team had started to head back already, and someone clapped a hand over Haechan's shoulder, dragging him back to the locker room and rambling in his ear about the amazing plays from that night's game. Haechan can't seem to pay attention, focusing solely on you and the sly smile that graces your lips.

You were honestly impressed by how quickly Haechan changed clothes. He was only in the locker room for about 5 minutes, and when he storms over to you, you can tell he skipped the shower.

“Jeno? Really? You're better than that,” he says, tongue in cheek. 

“Don't start; he's actually really sweet. What do you even care? You won the game, right? That's all you care about.” 

“I see what this is,” he says with a smile “your upset that I didn't make time for you and our little book dates, is that it?” 

“They were not dates,” you correct him 

“Could have fooled me. I see the way you watch me instead of the pages,” he counters

“Oh my god, you're so full of yourself." You say but don't deny his claims. "I thought we were past this.”

“You’re one to talk; your literally using Jeno to get back at me!”

“How can I get back at you if you don't like me? Why do you care so much?” You argue. “Admit it, you have a thing for me” 

He takes a step closer, invading on your personal space, and you can tell by the expression in his eye that he was about to say something devious, but Jeno interrupts you, throwing an arm over your shoulder.

"Nu-uh, she's mine tonight; back off,” Jeno jokes, whisking you away from the tension you and Haechan created. As you walk away with Jeno, you have a chance to look over your shoulder and catch Haechan's eyes. He gives you a look, but you're unsure what it reads as? You’re too far away to see, but it looks like hurt?

Jeno drives you back to his place; apparently,  the party was at the grand house that most of the team stays in. Most of the team stays together while others live on their own, but all the celebratory parties happen at the big house. You wonder if Haechan stayed here too? You shake the thought from your head. You would not think about him tonight; you had a point to prove.

Once you make it to the house, you notice most of the team is still setting up and getting ready. A few people were early, and they were mostly chatting out back on the deck. You follow Jeno up to his room and he changes into something more comfortable than the practice clothes he had thrown on after the game. You give your opinions on a few of the shirts he tries on and you find that its really easy to talk to him. He was super laid back and you could see yourself becoming really good friends with him.

“You and Haechan, huh?” He asks as he picks over a few chains to match his outfit.

“No, its not like that,” you say, rolling your eyes “Try that gold one on,” You point to the heavy chain sitting on his dresser. 

“The whole team knows something is up. You even practice with him sometimes.” Jeno says as he clips the chain behind his neck and adjusts it in a mirror. 

Your lying on his bed as you absent-mindedly scroll through your phone. "Hmm, not that one. I think silver would match better actually.” You avoid being put on the spot.

“Make up your mind,” Jeno groans, taking the chain off “I know your only here with me to make him jealous, so if you want my help, you could at least be honest.”

You look over his outfit again and give him a flirty smile “Who says I'm not? You look good. Maybe I want to try you?” 

He smirks and crawls over to you on the bed. He pins you down under him and kisses your neck. “You’re not fooling anyone, but who says we can't have a little fun” He teases and caresses your sides. You think he's going to take it farther, but he parts from you and goes back to his closet to find his shoes.

“Just kidding doll, he's my teammate. Even though you can’t see it, I do. He likes you,” he concludes.

You watch him put on his shoes and sigh. Haechan was ruining your chances of getting good dick now too? “You still gonna help me get back at him, right?” you ask.

“Oh definitely, he deserves a little tormenting,” Jeno says as he finishes putting together his outfit “He ate my leftover Kimchi Jjigae, so he's got it coming.”

You laugh and haul yourself from his sheets, joining his side as you both walk down to the party.

When you both enter the stairway, the music hits you, and you can practically feel the bass of the music shake your bones. Any more small talk was clearly out of the question, and you were grateful. You were not in the mood for any of Jeno's twenty-one questions regarding your feelings for Haechan. You doubted you would hear him even if he spoke right into your ear. He leads you to the main floor, and the house is packed. While he waves and greets a few of his friends, you rake your eyes across the crowd to see if you can find Haechan. There has been no sight of him so far. 

You make your way to the kitchen and find the drinks. You still hated the way hard  liquor burns as it goes down and settles for a mixed drink. You stick close to Jeno, hoping Haechan would find you hanging off his teammates shoulders, but you still haven't seen him.

It wasn't until about an hour into the party that you saw him. Honestly, after your second drink, you had already forgotten you were even looking for him as you began to have genuine fun with Jeno. He held you close as you danced on the floor. Although you were both past tipsy, you were not quite drunk. Jeno's chest was against your back as you rocked back and forth to the beat, his head nestled in your neck. 

Haechan had just come down the stairs; you figured he must have been hiding away in his room until this point. He locks eyes with you as your figure becomes entwined with Jeno's. Jeno peppers a few kisses against your skin, and you can practically see Haechan's breath catch in his throat as his face heats up in anger.

You smile in victory and you think he's seconds away from dragging you off the floor but he surprises you. He pushes through the crowd, but he doesn't come toward you at all. He angrily makes his way through the front door, slamming it behind him. 

You pull away from Jeno’s embrace, suddenly ashamed. "I don't think this is working” 

Jeno can't hear anything your saying, so he just screams, “HUH? WHAT?” loudly in your face. 

“I”M LEAVING,” you try to communicate through gestures.

“SHOULD I GO WITH YOU?” he asks, finally able to understand you

“NO IM FINE,” you make an x motion with your arms to tell him no and you point behind you, “GOTTA GO, BYE”  

You leave him in the crowd, and you figure he'll be okay because, when you turn around to spare him one last look, some other girl was quick to take your spot. 

You rush through the bodies of people and make it outside. There were a few people leaning against cars or huddled in groups chatting with friends, but they paid you no mind as you walked down the sidewalk, following a familiar figure that was a few meters ahead of you. 

He had his hands shoved deep in his pockets as he stormed ahead. No matter how much you pleaded for him to slow down, he kept walking. You had no idea where he was going until you spotted an old, run-down building. He was going to the library.

Once he got to the doors, he used his spare key to unlock it and rush inside. You follow after, finally being able to catch up

“Hey! Haechan, wait” You grab his arm, and he finally turns towards you.

“What! Isn't this what you wanted? To piss me off?” He asks in exasperation, his chest heaving in anger.

“Can we just be honest then! Why are you upset?” You challenge. 

“BECAUSE I LIKE YOU!” He yells in frustration, “I've liked you since the day you gave me your headband. I could have done anything else for extra credit You know why I chose the library? Because I knew you would be here!”

“You completely ditched me after!”

“I was busy!”

“Your insufferable is what you are!’

“You think you know it all, don't you!” 

"Well, I do!” You yell, “I know if you liked me, you should have acted like it!”

“Oh yea!?”

“Yea!”

With his lips pressed hungrily against yours, you found it impossible to think at all. Not with the way he pulled you closer to taste more of you. You could hardly keep up. One minute you’re at each other's throats, and the next his tongue is down yours.

He pushes you back against a bookshelf, knocking a few copies from their spot, and you pay them no mind as they clatter to the floor. You would have a lot to clean up afterwards.

“So annoying,” he mutters against your lips as he deepens the kiss.

You still can't keep up. All you can think about is the way his hands feel as they travel across the skin of your stomach. They were cool from the midnight air and you shivered under his touch. He backs away to let you catch his breath.

“Tell me you want it,” he says, a hair's breadth away from your neck. He gave you your moment to back out, to go back to whatever you guys were before, but you didn't take it.

“I need you, please,” you mutter as you bring your hands back up to his hair and pull him down for another kiss. 

You couldn't take another interruption; you needed all of him, and if you had to wait another second, you'd explode. He tried to pull away again for air, but you chased his lips, biting them in retaliation, and he whined.

“Not so tough now, are you” you joke, a bit out of breath.

He narrows his eyes and rests his hand against your neck “You need to be quiet; we’re in a library.” He tightens the hold on your neck and any rebuttal you had dies in your throat “another word and I'll leave you to finish by yourself and I don't think Edgar Allen Poe could turn you on more than I can” 

You raise an eyebrow and open your mouth to rasp out a response, but he has you facing the bookshelf, manhandling you before you can speak.

“Do not test me,” he says.

He has you pinned up against the shelves and undresses you. You want to complain about the amount of clothing he was wearing, but remind yourself of his earlier threat.

The library is dark and quiet; no one would be able to see your bodies dance in the dark. Your senses are heightened and they are all zeroed in on haechan. The warmth of his hands as they explore your body and tease you and the soft sounds that escape his mouth as he grinds his hips against your ass. 

For a second, you don't feel him pressing up against you anymore, and your protests die on your tongue as you feel him lick into your heat from behind. He’s grabbing at your cheeks, massaging them as he spreads them to make room for his face. He's so messy, and you can't help but blush at the amount of noise he's making. Your legs begin to shake as he sucks heavily on your clit. He pulls back and spits on your cunt, adding to the slickness, before inserting his fingers. As many days as you had worked with him, you didn't think it would ever end with him pushing you up against the bookcases and eating you out from the back. Just a few moments ago, he couldn't stand you; now he was on his knees, like he could worship your pussy for a lifetime. You would not be able to look at this library the same way again.

You could feel yourself getting closer, but you'd cry if you had to come around his fingers pathetically rather than wrap around his thick cock. You thread your fingers through his hair and grab hold. You almost don’t have the heart to pull him away, but you eventually find the strength. You pull him up from his knees and into another kiss, and you can instantly taste yourself coated on his tongue. 

“Fuck me already.” you say against his lips.

He groans and gets to work on taking off his pants. He doesn't part from you for even a second, and the death grip he has on your hips tells you he can barely keep it together. He slips inside and you both whimper at the feeling. He fucks you as intimately as someone can press up against a bookshelf in the middle of a library. All you can do is just grip the shelf. You could hardly keep yourself up after coming so close to the edge. 

He finally breaks the kiss, and you gasp for air. The lightheaded feeling makes you tighten around him. He's peppering kisses around your neck and down your back. 

“So good, babe;  you feel so good,” he mumbles. “We could have been doing this from the start but you just wanted to be a brat” He nips at your skin and lands a slap against your bare ass. 

“But all you needed was some dick. Now your so good for me, right baby,” he slows his thrusts down teasingly and presses another kiss to your temple.

His strokes are so deep and calculated you almost start crying. He doesn't like your lack of response so he snakes a hand in front of you and grabs onto your neck. “Answer me baby,” he threatens as he tightens his grip on your throat. His hips pick up at a brutal speed, and he's fucking you so hard that the bookshelf is shaking, causing more books to topple off.

“Yes! All yours! I'm your good girl” you really do cry this time. 

Haechan groans at the sight of the fresh tears that fall down your cheeks. He kisses them away, and he pulls your hips back to meet his thrust, driving deeper into your greedy hole. Your head is up in the clouds, and all you can make out is him whining “so good” and “just like that” into the crook of your neck. 

You cum hard and gush out all over his length. He thrusts into you a few more times before he finally releases deep inside. Your legs are shaking and you have no idea how your going to make it home. 

He pulls out of you and watches as his cum drips out of you. He did not feel like scrubbing his cum from the library floor, so he did the next best thing. He found his way down to his knees again and cleaned you up. You weakly push at his head, and you slump against the bookshelf. 

Haechan has to pull himself away before things get out of hand again. He helps you put your clothes back on and sits you on a nearby bench as he cleans up the mess you two made. He picks up the books and puts them back on their respective shelf.

“Mrs. Lee would kill us if she found out”

“Do not bring up my grandma right now” Haechan shudders at the thought in disgust.

Silence falls over you two as he continues to work. 

“Did you mean what you said earlier” you say, suddenly unable to meet his gaze, like he wasn't fucking the life out of you two minutes ago.

“Yes, I’m sorry for not being upfront with you. It was just so hard; it seemed like we  were always fighting,” he says as he shelves a copy of Huckleberry Finn.

“I'm sorry for the way I acted before,” you sigh “Can we start over...again...for real this time” you laugh.

Haechan finishes rearranging the books and sits next to you on the bench.

“Of course,” and he kisses you. 

This kiss was different from earlier; this one meant something and wasn't lust-filled like the other. This kiss was filled with secret promises and new adventures. When he pulled away and looked him in the eye, you knew things were going to be different.

[bewarethecircles]

After a vacation in Alpha Centauri, Gabriel and Beelzebub come back to earth and move in together. They proceed to be the worst and most baffling neighbors anyone in the neighborhood has ever experienced. 

They introduced themselves as Bee and Jim, but immediately started laughing about it, so people are pretty sure those aren't their real names. 

Neither of them seem to have jobs, but they must be rich, because their house is massive and they're always wearing fancy clothes, and their wallets are bursting with money. Maybe they’re in the mafia?

Speaking of fancy clothes, “Jim” is always wearing designer suits. There is an ongoing game where people attempt to take a picture of him in any other clothes. One time, an enterprising teenager went so far as to sneak over in the middle of the night to look into his bedroom (hoping he’d be in pajamas), and saw him still in a suit, Standing on Top of the Bed, eyes wide open and Smiling Brightly. (Gabriel has not gotten the hang of sleeping yet.) (The teenager refuses to go near the house ever again.)

The short one, “Bee,” is consistently trailed by flies. This is alarming to everyone. They say that they're a “fly-keeper,” but people are pretty sure that's not a thing. Do they carry rotting meat around or something?

Bee also seems to be constantly changing appearances. One day they have a buzz cut, the next day their hair goes to their mid-back. Their eyes are a different colour every time you see them. People have set up cameras to take pictures of them on different days, and upon comparing them they are Definitely almost 6 inches taller this week. Even their facial features shift. 

It gets to the point where people decide Jim must just have multiple partners, and be lying about it. (“Multiple partners that all look similar and are never seen together?” the opposition will point out. When asked if they have a better theory, they can never answer.)

The two of them will have romantic moments Anywhere, including standing in the middle of the highway staring into each others eyes. By all rights they should have been run over, but in a bizarre coincidence every car in the area ran out of fuel and stopped moving at that exact moment. People want to blame Jim for it (he did make a strange hand movement, after all), but that would just be absurd.

They use the absolute worst pet names for each other. A list of overheard ones is being recorded. “My rotten cabbage?” “My hell-bringer?” “Dearest packet of crisps??” 

You cannot let them notice that you're disgusted by their lovey-doveyness. They will either get exponentially more cringey, or straight up insult you until you run away crying. Or both. 

“Everyday” by Buddy Holly will be audible to the whole block at all times. Do they know other songs exist? Don't they get bored of this one?? Why is it so loud???

There’s a statue of Jim in the front yard. Its 20 feet tall and definitely a HOA violation, but people are too scared to mention it. Both Bee and Jim will come out at different times and spend hours staring at it dreamily. 

People would hate them, but ever since they moved in the weather has been perfect, crime is at an all time low, and there’s little trucks that go around selling hot chocolate, and those things Probably cant be because of them, but still...

Plus, Jim doesn’t understand how money works at all, so he’ll give you $300 for a bag of chips. It's endearing, even if he is sometimes a jerk.

Bee does seem to know how money works, but they’ll frequently pay even more than Jim, especially if the person seems overworked and the place is under-staffed. They say they have experience with it.

After a month of them living there, most of the neighborhood is in a group chat created to discuss the two of them. Beelzebub is secretly in the chat, and reads their favourite theories to Gabriel. 

A rumour starts going around that they're an angel and a demon in disguise, but no one can agree which one is which. 

Beelzebub is the one who started the rumour. 

If anyone writes a fic with any of this by all means tag me I'd love to see it!!

[ghcstao3]

“Hair’s gettin’ a bit long, yeah, Simon?”

Simon waves Tommy off as he feels him pinch at a tuft of hair, unwilling to entertain the teasing remark when he knows it’d only lead to a brotherly jab—as it often does nowadays. He gives a gentle shove when Tommy only insists, currently more concerned with the sudoku game on his phone, but really Simon should know better by now, especially now, that Tommy will eventually, inevitably get his point across.

“Think they’ll let you back on base with that rat’s nest on your head?”

“Bugger off,” Simon grumbles. Tommy only doubles his efforts by draping all his weight over his brother. Simon rolls his eyes. “Think Beth’ll let you back in the house if I tell her about that time you—“

“Hey,” Tommy hisses, pushing away before gently smacking Simon upside the head, “shut your cake hole, it was one time.”

“How you’ve only managed to do it only once is beyond me,” says Simon flatly. He gets another row filled of his puzzle. “A miracle, really. Knowing you.”

“Dickhead,” Tommy retorts.

“Twat.”

Tommy snorts. “Really should cut it, though. Looks a mess. ‘M sure Beth could help.”

Simon shakes his head. “I’ll just buzz it. Save her the hassle,” he grunts.

Though he can’t see it, he can sense the way Tommy throws his arms up in surrender. It’s obvious his insults have been made, if not by the sudden willful silence, but his footsteps as he wanders out of the kitchen. He’d been right, unfortunately, about Simon’s hair, but they’re well past the days of allowing each other the small victories.

Which is a good thing, Simon supposes. Knows.

He’s thankful Tommy’s left the space so he couldn’t see the stupid smile that appears on Simon’s face, before he runs a hand through his overgrown hair and lets it fall just in case Tommy were to come wandering back with something new to pick on.

//

“Your hair’s gettin’ a bit long, Simon.”

Simon resists the urge to roll his eyes when he feels Johnny’s fingers card through his admittedly too-long hair, suppressing the sigh that rises from his lungs when the sergeant continues to linger.

“I’m aware,” Simon says instead. “Is that all you needed to say, MacTavish?”

He feels Johnny’s shrug. “Looks nice. Might need a brush after being under the mask, but.”

Simon tilts his head back, inadvertently leaning into Johnny’s touch. Perhaps the vulnerability of his bare face had him on edge, guarded for insult like he used to be with Tommy, but the soft look on Johnny’s face has the sigh finally escaping him, the tension in his shoulders gradually releasing.

“Yeah?”

Johnny nods. “Mhm. But if you want it cut, I’ll help you buzz it. Know bothers you.”

Simon hums. “Maybe. Might wait a bit longer.”

“That right?”

“Sure, Johnny.”

Johnny laughs softly, gently scratching at Simon’s scalp before he retracts his hand. His touch lasts well after he’s left, a warmth that spreads through Simon’s body like every other time they’ve made contact—even if he’d never tell Johnny that.

He may just take him up on his offer of help, however.

This time, he doesn’t bother trying to mask his smile.

[misstycloud]

Helloo i just wanted to say youre doing god's work with the whole yandere omega x reader thing. You really hit an obscure niche (compared to other omegaverse stuff) and im really happy to see someone writing about this kind of trope! That being said, may i ask for a yandere omega who's married to their alpha reader, and how the omega's yandere tendencies still manifest even though they're already married to the alpha reader? Like maybe they're still a little possessive over their alpha or they still stick close to their alpha no matter what? Thank you so much!

Yandere!omega who is living the dream. They have everything they could ever ask for; a walk-in closet with the hundreds of fine garments, multiple boxes with accessories, a lavish room with windows facing the endless garden, and a generous spouse who spoils them rotten every chance they get.

Yandere!omega who can’t help but revel in the glory and the fact that they have it so good compared to their old bullies. The same people who used so mock them for their looks and pathetic-ness, now writhe in envy. It was a satisfying sight, to say the least.

No longer were they that small and weak nerd forced to eat in the bathroom during lunch. That was in the past. It seems that the hard work had payed off and they can finally experience happiness.

Yandere!omega who, despite knowing you’d never betray them, can’t help be feel anxious whenever others gawk at you when you’re out. You’ll be walking down the street and people would turn around to look at you. You’ll sit at a table in a fancy restaurant and all they’d be able to focus on is how the serves gossip about you. Everyone wants you, it seems. Although, it’s not very surprising considering your appearance and status.

Yandere!omega who, deep down, is still insecure. What is they’re not enough? They know that to most- if not all-think that you’re way above them. Still, they managed to capture your heart and have their love reciprocated. Somehow you love them out of everybody. It’s got to count for something. But what if you see pieces of the old them and you decide everything’s over? It can’t happen. They can’t live without you!

Yandere!omega who in turn gives all those people a foul glare. There is no way they can have you. You belong to someone already; them. And they’ll never give you up. Not even if it was by your own will. Didn’t you promise on your wedding day, you’re theirs and they are yours forever? Oh, you can’t just break promises.

Yandere!omega who complains of how your secretary is bullying them and refusing on letting them into the building to bring your lunch(your secretary married themselves). They cry to you that your family is still not accepting of them and want you to break up, so you need to make choices. They tell you that your friends are bad influences and will get you in trouble one day.

Yandere!omega who hates when you spend long hours in the office. Won’t you spend more time with them? Don’t they matter, or is the paperwork more urgent? Wow, they must be soooo important to you then.

Yandere!omega who screams that you obviously don’t love them anymore. Why would you work overtime nearly every day if you weren’t avoiding them like the plague?

“I gave you my heart, soul and body the day we wed. Is it so hard for you to do the same?”

[bluejutdae]

Insomniacs | Bang Chan x you

synopsis: Chan is your roommate and you both have trouble with insomnia

Another sleepless night. Another night of tossing and turning. Another headache that you can feel starting at the back of your head. There’s really no point in staying in bed anymore, but you have to be quiet cause your roommate is maybe asleep, and you don’t wanna risk waking him up.

You wander through the apartment and end up in the kitchen, maybe some chamomile tea would help? After you heard noises from Chan’s room, too loud to be just him moving in his sleep, it’s easy to decide to make two cups and leave his on the kitchen table.

On nights like this, standing up is a chore. You’re tired to the bones, but your brain doesn’t seem to have received the message: awake, loud and a bit mean, it’s more awake than ever. Just few minutes later, your hear soft steps getting closer, and Chan finds you sitting on the kitchen floor. Your back to the cabinets door, warm mug between your hands, a warm substitute for real affection.

“No sleep tonight, uh?” Chan grabs his mug and raises it in a mock toast in your direction. He then sits at your side, knee knocking in yours and his head hits with a soft thud the kitchen furniture. You answer with a quiet hum and a shake of your head.

“Wanna talk about it?” You can’t help a smile from appearing on your face. Chan is always so gentle, so caring, that falling deep for him was way too easy and natural. “There’s not much to talk about. What about you?”

“Bad dream. Don’t wanna talk about it.”

“But you wanna talk?”

The two of you do this sometimes, you sit on the floor and talk about everything and nothing. There are only few things you’ll never tell each other: you’re never confessing to him, he’s never telling you he’s felt alone for so long before you arrived, you’re never telling him he’s the best part of your life.

He nods and sips his chamomile. “I heard sharks likes to be pet by subs.” One topic is as good as the other, but it gets the conversation started…

[…]

It’s hours later when he says: “…and so they broke up”, he concludes the story about a couple of his friends and their messy romance.

“That’s sad, tho. The idea of loving someone so much but not being able to be with them.” You’re looking in front of you, Chan’s face on the left of your visual field. You know what’s like to love someone but not being with him, watching him and being happy about his accomplishments but only doing it as a friend, as a roommate.

“Mh”, he nods and picks at the skin of his thumb with his teeth. “That sucks, you’re right. I hope they’ll manage to solve their problems and finally be happy.” With his head still resting on the cabinet’s door, he turns it towards you. “Are you happy?”

Your first instinct is to scoff. Your second instinct is to cry. Are you happy? What are you gonna answer Chan?

“I don’t know.” Your voice is so quiet you’re not sure he heard you. You’re about to drop the subject when he makes an inquisitive sound. Have you always been weak in front of Chan? Have you always given him all he asked for? “I don’t know, Chan. I have pretty much everything I need, I should be happy, right? I have a decent job, a pretty apartment, friends, health…” your sentence hangs incomplete. You know what is missing, but you can’t say it.

How do you tell your roommate you love him? How do you tell him you’d be happy if he were yours? How do you tell someone they’re the reason you keep smiling day by day without weighting them of the burden, the responsibility? And even if you were brave enough (and selfish enough) to tell him, then what if he doesn’t reciprocate and you lose him?

“It’s okay to want more.” Too kind, too good.

“What about you?” You ask, maybe he’ll forget your words.

“Are you asking me if I’m happy or if I want more?” What are you asking? You’re not sure, so you shrug, letting him pick for you. “I am happy.” he says, and then Chan does something that in all the late night talks you shared he has never done: he reaches for your hand and interlocks his fingers with yours. His palm is warm against yours, bigger, you can feel his callous on his fingers. “I could be happier,” he continues. “I want more, too.”

How can something so simple as holding hands make your heart race? Why are you suddenly so warm and happy? “It’s okay to want more” you repeat his words.

Chan’s face opens up in a beautiful smile and you blush so hard you can only hide your face, letting your head rest on his shoulder, hands still clasped together.

Later, you’ll kiss. Later, you’ll both confess, reciprocated feeling and plans for the future. Later, you’ll decide to make it official, so there’ll never be misunderstandings in this. But for now, the sun rising catches you unmoved. Hands clasped, heads resting close and you both asleep. You’re gonna regret falling asleep sitting in the kitchen floor, but this was the best late night talk for you two, so a cricked neck and achy asses are worth it.

[danistartt]

Gentleman- Jamie Tartt

pairings: jamie tartt x reader, richmond team warnings: language. i think i read this one too many times. about: request! secret dating because reader works for Richmond (as like pr or physio or something) but when they win a match one day Jamie is so overcome with joy he just has to kiss her

“Don’t you think someone is bound to get worried you’re coming in here every day?” you wonder, pinching away individual blades of grass stuck among the fuzzy dandelions of Jamie’s socks.

“Nah,” he says, watching your careful attention from his place on the pillow. He’s feeling bad about putting his muddy shoes over your clean lap, but you haven’t complained once, only appreciating the easy access to touch him. “They don’t know I come up here.”

You look perplexed. “Where do they think you go?”

Jamie shrugs. “The loo?”

“The one not in the locker room? Six times a day for ten minutes?”

“I keep myself hydrated,” he tells you, lifting up his water bottle to wag it at you. “Y’know, to keep up appearances.”

You chuckle, pushing the web of your thumb around his ankle and trying to touch your pointer. Your phone blinks up at you, the time precarious. Your hand slackens. “You need to get back soon.”

Jamie gets that sticky feeling he does whenever he has to leave something, gross and pleading at the pit of his stomach, his every cell calling out for him to use his time better. He wants to touch you like you’re touching him. He shifts onto his elbows and stares at you. “I can be a little late.”

You frown at the idea, your hands still and warm on his calves. “No, Jamie.”

“Yes, Jamie,” he murmurs, his arms making quick succession in tugging you to him. He’s strong, he’s always been strong, but you don’t tend to notice until he’s pulling you out from beneath his legs and hugging you in a single movement.

You don’t want to encourage him but you want even less to not make your delight shown at being pressed against his chest.

The minute changes. Your care for it begins to dwindle.

“Jamie!” you squeal, not moving. 

He says your name in the same tone, as condescending as he used to be but sweetened by the kiss he presses against your hair. “C’mon, love,” he encourages, a horrid influence working.

“No,” you insist weakly. “Ted’s waiting for you. The team’s waiting for you.”

“But I’ve been waitin’ for this all day,” he complains pointedly. “Maybe I should trip o’er the ball or somethin’. Make a nice excuse to spend hours here with ya.”

“Jamie Tartt? Not believable.”

He makes a pleased noise, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “You’re right.”

Another minute. Ted’s brown eyes bore into your subconscious.

Painfully, you peel yourself off of Jamie, slotting his thighs between your own. You watch his pupils dilate from above him.

“No,” you start, gently holding his face in your hands in a plea and causing the opposite effect you’d meant to. “No time. Later.”

He grasps your coat tightly.

“I promise. Just go to practice.” You spy the time and scramble off of him. “Now.”

He groans, catching your wrist when you hurry to collect the loose strands of his hair. He holds up a hand, pinky finger outstretched, and stares in question.

You roll your eyes but hook your own through his, a grin making its way to his face. “Y’know these’re binding, right?” he asks pragmatically.

You’d taught him that. The prick. “Yes,” you say exasperatedly, trying to pull him off the couch.

“‘M goin’,” he mutters, letting you. “I’ll see you in half an hour.”

“No you will not,” you gasp. “They’re going to think you have a bladder infection.”

“I’ll make somethin’ up,” he shrugs, looking around. He picks up your keys off your desk and wags them. “Maybe you dropped your keys when you were headin’ in.”

“Jamie,” you warn. “You can’t leave the team so much because, beside the fact that they’ll notice something is up, you actually like being with them and—”

“I like you better. A lot prettier.” He closes his fingers around the keys.

You inch closer slowly,  but he’s undeterred and blows you a kiss, leaving your office with only muddy tracks left in his place before you can catch up. “Do not come by in half an hour!”

He listens to you. Kind of.

You see him a few hours later, a cocky glaze on his features, keys clicking against one another. “Hey, doc, I think ya dropped somethin’.”

You snatch them from him. “What a gentleman.”

“Right? Had to fight for it, too. Coach must really like returning keys.”

“How’d you get him to give them up?”

“I jus’ left,” he shrugs.

You gape at him. “What?”

“I told ‘im I found your keys, he said he’d give ‘em to you after practice. I said you might need ‘em now and then I just went inside ‘fore he could call Will over. I should actually be gettin’ back now, our screaming break’s probably over.” He slinks over to you and kisses your forehead, smelling like grass and sweat and lavender detergent.

“What?” you echo.

“I’ll see you later. Can you pick up some food before you get home? Kent don’t really like it when I leave the screamin’. Says it’s most effective on me.”

He smiles at you, waves, and leaves you perplexed.

You put down what he stole from you and notice vibrant pink peeking beneath metal, a green stem’s end through the ring. When you pull it out, you recognize it as one of the flowers that keep growing at the far right edge of the field. You melt into your seat, pouting at the crumpled petals.

-

“So, what’s the verdict, Doc?” Ted asks when you come out of your room, dipping a finger behind your right glove.

“He’ll be okay. He can play this week’s game as long as he doesn’t put too much pressure on his foot. I told him to ice it periodically for two days and then just make sure it isn’t swelling.”

“No permanent damage, then?”

You laugh. “No permanent damage.”

Sam pushes your door open, leaning on a crutch.

“How you feelin’, champ?” Ted asks.

Sam shrugs. “I’ve been better. At least Doctor Y/n gave me the all clear for this week.” He looks pointedly at you, as if Ted might need confirmation from you.

“Under what conditions?” you pry.

“Rest, ice, compress, and elevate,” he lists off his fingers.

“The most important for you, Mr. Obisanya, being…”

“Not being on it for two days,” he answers, ever the great student.

“I wish all my patients listened as well as you do,” you commend, letting him go with a smile.

Ted watches him go, turning back to you with a cheery expression. “Well, thank you, Doc.”

“It’s what I’m here for.” You toy with your gloves, listening to the team erupt in noise once Sam assumedly gets back.

“And also to bring a smile to all our faces. Not to say that’s a purpose. Just a nice bonus.”

You laugh. “Thank you, Ted. Is there anything else you need from me?”

He shakes his head. “Oh, no, no. Just wanted to ask if you were interested in goin’ out with the team and I tonight.”

“Where are you going?”

“Oh, just the Crown and Anchor. We haven’t officially asked ‘em yet, but one thing that doesn’t change no matter where we are is that athletes always appreciate a good drink with good company.”

“Very true,” you murmur, contemplating. You hadn’t gone out with the boys in a while and you were beginning to miss their antics. You could sit around the house for the evening, or you could spend that same evening a little drunk with your friends. “You know what? Sure. I’d love to.”

“Alrighty then!” Ted cheers, pleasantly genuine in the way no one else is. “I’ll let ‘em know. We’ll see ya later, Doc!” 

“You too, Ted!” you call after him, slumping into your chair once you’re alone. Your phone vibrates from the table, lighting up with a picture of Jamie that he’d insisted you set as his profile picture. “Hello?”

“Coach says yer coming with us tonight?”

You stare at your door. “He just left. How could he have possibly already told you that?”

“Team groupchat. He was very insistent about it an' m'honestly not that upset about it anymore.”

You laugh. “I am going. Are you?”

“Course. D’you want me to pick you up?”

“How do we explain that?”

“I’m a gentleman?”

“To this degree? Do you think they’d believe that?”

“I’ll go before. Help ya pick out your clothes, put ‘em on?”

“You’ll see me when I get there.”

“C’mon, love. I want to be the first.”

“You always are!”

“Do you really wanna risk that streak?”

“Yes.” Other voices begin to filter in, still far away but getting closer. “I’ll see you there, Jamie. I love you.”

Jamie pauses, a soft shuffling noise preceding what is clearly Jamie’s palm curving around his phone’s speaker. “I love ya, too,” he whispers. You hang up, leaning into your seat. Your phone zzpts in your hand.

send a picture. Three dots, blinking in and out. please.

Humming, you debate it before: i’ll think about it. 

-

Jamie, of course, is the first to see you.

He looks for you in every creak of the pub door, slyly craning his neck to check for the color of your hair or the burgundy coat you tend to wear on these outings. When he finally catches sight of you, he looks away, satisfied to have been the owner of the first glance.

The others spot you quickly, raising their beers in your direction. Zoereaux puts your drink in your hand, cold bubbles splashing the curve of your thumb.

You thank him, kissing his cheek in greeting as the others crowd you. “Maybe I should be worried you all know my order.”

“Absolutely not,” Ted chimes in from your other side. “Knowledge is love.” He hugs you too. “Glad you could make it, Doc.”

You push yourself onto a seat next to Jan Maas, tipping your glass at him. “You look nice,” he says.

“Thank you,” you respond. “You too.”

“Doc?” Isaac asks.

“You can call me by my name, Isaac.”

He wrinkles his nose and shakes his head. “Nah. Feels weird now.”

“Alright. What’s up?”

“My sister says thank you for the advice. Her leg’s all better now and she told me to invite you over for dinner.”

“She doesn’t have to do that.”

“She insists.”

“You should just accept,” Colin says. “She makes a good Shepherd’s pie and won’t give up.”

Isaac nods, jutting a finger in his direction.

“Of course, then. Can’t wait.”

The conversation continues, and you indulge a glance at Jamie to find him looking back at you, an inquisitive pull to his brows. Your eyebrows jump, trying to ask a question with only your features.

You pull your phone from your pocket and begin typing out a message for him when the topic somehow heads back to you.

“Hey, d’you end up going on that date?” Bumberbatch asks suddenly.

You blink. Jamie turns to him curiously. “What?”

“With the prick. You know. Coiffed hair, All puffed up.”

“Um.” You try very hard to not look at Jamie, who’s surely staring at you with wide, amused eyes. “Yes. Yes I did.”

“How’d it go?” Isaac urges. Your mouth is open with no certain words to comfort.

“Yeah. How’d the date with the prick go?” Jamie pipes up, sliced brow up. He’s awful. Truly, truly awful and he knows it.

You force a smile at him. “Not as bad as I thought.” The team mumbles in satisfaction but Jamie doesn’t give.

“Not as bad, huh?” Jamie repeats, lips thinning in thought. “I dunno.” He does a little shake of his head and licks his lips, meeting your eyes again. “Maybe it went a little better than that?”

You clear your throat, heat rising to your face though you try desperately to keep it down. 

Colin raises a brow. “Why would you say that?”

Jamie shrugs, unfairly unphased. “Just askin’.”

The attention moves off of you. You glare at him.

He smiles and, in the wake of a controversial argument between cartoons, winks at you. Your legs go weak.

-

You’re supposed to sit with the coaches during matches. Keeley had been upset at first and Rebecca sorry, offering a replacement medical professional for a game if you were so inclined to observe a game from the box seats, but you’d refused. Your place, although precarious with flying balls and the grandest source of stress, is kind to you. 

You sit behind Ted during matches. The back of his head is surprisingly comforting in the tensest points of a match, and you find you can catch the preliminary movements of his fingers when you’re nearby.

There isn’t much contorting you have to do to sprint into the field if you’re needed, and the seat itself isn’t too bad when you’re not. Also, you have a great view.

You’re close enough to feel the strength with which the players kick the ball, you’re part of the very exclusive audience to the coaches’ hope, and when he gets close enough, Jamie can hear your cheers for him very clearly.

You’re completely sure he can hear you now, shouting at the top of your lungs up front with the coaches, fists tight enough to shake. He speeds up with renewed energy, the ball a blur between fast legs and fake passes. You grasp Roy’s arm with everything in you and let your eyes move to the timer. Less than fifteen seconds to go and a tie glares in blocky red numbers.

Your fingers spark with something hot, curling tighter around Roy’s wrist when the ball is passed to Jamie.

The time goes by too slowly and the ball flies too fast, a defender slamming to the ground with his hands up as Jamie’s kick sends the ball into the net. The clock ticks for the last time. The arena erupts in sound and a combination of red and blue.

You scream, finally letting go of Roy to drag your hands to your face. Isaac and Dani embrace on the field, most of the others running toward Jamie but Jamie is sprinting toward you.

You realize too late what’s going on, too proud of Jamie, too dizzy on adrenaline and excitement to realize what’s about to happen and why it shouldn’t.

He comes up to you beaming, picking you up easily and spinning you around. You respond immediately, palms against his warm cheeks, lips pressing repeatedly against his forehead and then finally his lips. “You did so good,” you praise, hoping he can hear you even through the overwhelming noise. “I’m so proud of you.”

He grins, finally catching your lips and lowering you to the floor. It takes only two seconds for what happened to settle in. You can see it on his face, the exhilaration contorting into recognition. He finally looks away from you and gulps.

The stadium is still loud, but most of the team is looking at you, caught in differing positions of celebration. Ted stares at the both of you, jaw dropped.

“What do we do?” he whispers to you. “Do you think they’ll believe it if we say it was an accident?”

“No,” you respond just as quietly. “No, I don’t think so.”

[bunbunsa]

Your future spouse’s first impression of you — a pick-a-pile tarot reading

Pinned | Ko-Fi | Other Collective Readings

Non-gendered. Take what resonates, leave what doesn't. There are three piles to choose from:

(You can send me more ideas for collective readings in the ask box.)

Pile 1

You’ll meet them when you need them the most—they’ll notice you in a crowd full of people and give you a hand. They’ll probably see your vulnerable side. They’ll want you to open up to them like a good friend. They won’t judge your past choices and notice the strength in you and what you went through.

There’ll be a lot of understanding and compassion from their side. They’ll see you as brave despite the helplessness. You won’t be a burden to them—you might actually be their salvation as well. They’ll want to make changes in your life for the better and help you let go—of a failed relationship, job and anything that feels like it’s crushing you.

Cards: Page of Swords, Five of Cups, Ten of Swords.

Pile 2

The day you meet, they’ll definitely see you as an elegant and graceful person, probably thinking that you’re wealthy. They’ll be attracted to you a lot and will be sure to ask for your number or even on a date right away. They’ll think of you as someone passionate (whether it’s about your hobbies or the way you carry yourself) and loyal because of your first conversation. They might think that you have problems when it comes to conflicts with your loved ones and will offer solutions.

They’ll feel a sense of nostalgia around you. You might remind them of someone from their past, and it’ll give them comfort. Meeting you will be a hopeful new beginning for them.

Cards: King of Cups, Five of Wands in reverse, Six of Cups.

Pile 3

They’ll definitely think of you as someone bold and not scared of taking risks—that may mislead them from the kind of person you’d want others to perceive you as. Maybe you’ll appear as adventurous, too. But don’t worry—they’ll quickly realise that you have a side you don’t usually show others, and that’ll make them see you in a more realistic light and stop the idealisation of your person (at least a bit).

The circumstances of your meeting might help you open up to them, and they’ll be sure to stand up for you and offer you help. Helping you heal or just find a solution to your struggles will be important to them.

Cards: Eight of Swords in reverse, Knight of Cups in reverse, The High Priestess.

[bouquetface]

PAC: First Date.

Topic is first date. May have already happened or will. Not necessarily with your future spouse.

As always, I will be specific not going to appeal to everyone. Not every reading you come across is meant for you. Take it as entertainment.

Photos of Dom Fike because I’ve been feeling nostalgic.❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

1. 2.

One.

This relationship will begin through technology. Maybe an instagram DM. I don’t really believe it will be through a dating app. This is due to there being confusion at first. You may be unsure if they’re trying to talk to you romantically or in a platonic way. I see you going to someone in your house (roommate, sister, or mom). Reading some of the texts out loud and asking their opinions.

Whoever you tell may advise you to be careful. There is something about this person that makes them doubtful. It could be they have a mischievous appearance or persona. They may be a gemini rising. Attractive and seemingly popular. It can be unclear when someone like this is flirting or joking around.

Fairly quickly, they’ll ask to meet up. Somewhere local and in public. The setting of the date and casual way it was asked is making you overthink. You may think a proper date is something like going to the movies, going to dinner. Not meeting up at a random time during the day. It’ll be a sunny day. You may be given a loose idea of what’s going to happen. Like “i want to see you” “meet me at _____ since we’re both free”.

The lead up is going to make you nervous. It may be the advice/conversation you had about this person earlier. There are more nerves than usual for a meet up. The way they asked may make it still unclear if it’s a date or not. You could go back and forth with yourself on whether it’s a date or hanging out.

When you do meet up, the first comment made will instantly relax you. They may say something about your height. Physically, I believe they’ll be very lanky. It could be your lanky as well or you’re notably shorter. You two will end up walking a lot that day. You may get drinks or a small treat along the way. Seems you two are just exploring the area & talking.

They’ll be very curious about you. Asking lots of question, teasing/joking at your answers. They may ask questions off topic or change topics a lot. A bit scatterbrained but it keeps the conversation moving. At the same time they’re very detached. It doesn’t seem like they take life too seriously. They respond to things with humour or logic. Logic over emotions kinda person.

It really seems you are very nervous or confused. They don’t pick up on it at all though. They have a playful nature but you’ll still be confused at their intentions. I am not sure if this makes them a red flag or not. I don’t know if you tend to overthink things normally, or if their personality is making you react that way. Their chill & kinda stoic nature may not work for you.

It is the first date so it does take people time to open up. All their questions for you, does suggest they have a desire to get to known you on a deeper level. Yet, I will be honest this first date seems more like a hangout, kinda low effort so if that doesn’t appeal to you, this next date may be a let down. Keep in mind though it’s the first date and seems like the first ever meet up. Of course, they’ll be a bit on guard if they just met you. At the end of the day, it’s up to you to decide.

Two.

The two of you will be in a more private area than the first pile. Despite being alone with person, you’ll feel very comfortable. This might be someone you already knew before going on a date. Maybe someone from the past that you haven’t seen in a while. You could have gone to school together.

It could be dinner at a restaurant. Yet, the comfortable & private energy is making me believe you could be at yours or their place. They may walk you to your door and you invite them in. They may take you to their place after the night. Perhaps, you invite them in to watch a film.

This is very random but they definitely went to the barber a few days before this date to get cleaned up. You may really like the way their hair looks. They may have had a glow up since the last time you saw them. You could be wearing something very sexy. Black or red. Omg pile 2, this could be someone who felt friend zoned by you in the past.

Your look that night is driving them crazy. The scorpio card coming up is making me think you knew what you were doing when you put on that outfit. The fireworks card literally says “Loving Passionate Intimacy”. Whether it gets sexual that first night or not, the feelings are definitely there. It feels like a dream come true to this person. You are their fantasy come to life. They may have been secretly admiring you for a while.

4th of July is coming up so possibly for American readers, there could be literal fireworks. The reading is still strongly indicating an intimate vibe. You may sneak off together, end up alone watching fireworks. I literally pulled the fireworks card and am now hearing fireworks. I’m in Canada, and apparently my neighbours couldn’t wait until Canada Day (which is tmr). Crazy coincidence. They began and (have seemed to) stop at this pile.

Unlike the first pile, I believe very strongly you will want to see this person again. There is no doubt in my mind. You two are very attracted to each other. Not all the piles indicate a future spouse. For someone reading this, it definitely is the first night with your future spouse.

[alicesivory]

Old Habits Die Hard [6/?]

Previous Chapter // Main Masterlist // Next Chapter

Pairing: Nightwatch! Aemond Targaryen x wildling female! Reader

Genre: Historically accurate Aemond, mature! so please MDNI‼️

WC: 4648 👀

Summary: When new emotions sparked within our Targaryen prince, he could not help but to doubt himself. Afraid of his past, his present, and his future. Especially when it comes to love and his doe.

“Hold still,” her chuckles echoing in his tent.

Aemond has lost count on how many moons have passed. He adapted his new life with the wildlings, and he was surprisingly content. Especially when she is there to help him at every step he takes. 

 Aemond is also still intent on maintaining his clean-shaven appearance. 

He sat down obediently as his doe carefully shaved his little overgrown beard that he disliked. The knife she held sometimes got a little too close that put him on edge, dodging it away for a second.

“Do not cut me,” he said in worry.

“I won’t gosh— if you keep moving I might put out your other eye,” she joked.

“That is not funny,” he glared at her, actually offended.

“Then stay still.”

Her words made Aemond sigh, adjusting his seat, “You are horrible at this,” he muttered under his breath. “Oh I know. I am aware I’m not a skilled hairdresser from your castle. You should take me there one day. Maybe I can learn the art of shaving from your hairdresser,” she giggled in return, not taking any offense from him. 

“I actually will one day,” Aemond replied, trying to mask how much he liked the idea of taking her back in Kings Landing. How she will fit into his customs, wearing dresses like a lady in court. Yet he wonders how she will run or show her boyish charms in those kinds of clothing. Will she run in the fields of godswood coming home with her dress stained with the wet soil. Will she dance with him if he asked?

“Would ya?” His doe asked amusingly with a hopeful smile. 

“And not only you’ll learn from my hairdresser, I shall give you silk dresses the same way as the ladies in court. I’ll ensure they’ll give you the finest silk they have—,” Aemond answered, being genuine about his answer. He took her free hand in his, “I shall ensure you will be well fed, and buy you anything you wish for in the world.”

“A way to repay your debts, snow haired?” The she-wildling joked once again, not realizing how dead serious he was with his words. He would buy her anything she’d want to. “Or maybe I just want you to come with me.”

He failed to sound nonchalant, catching her attention as Aemond looked down to her hand in which he was holding with his. His fingers felt how rough and calloused his doe’s fingers were. He wanted to take care of her, prevent her from hard work or any work that might endanger her life. He wanted her fingers to be smooth and gentle, as proof that she is well taken care of by him.

“I will be there when we march to the wall one day,” reassuring him with her gentle words. “I do not want you to stop at the wall.” 

“What lies beyond the north, Aemond? I am a wildling, I do not fit with your customs. I will not fit into your world.”

“You do.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.” 

His stern and sure words made her heart warm. Her bright smile revealed her pearly white teeth, and as she grinned, her eyes shaped into upside-down crescents. 'You are stubborn, Aemond,' she remarked, gently guiding the knife along his jaw. 'And weird,' she added with a soft giggle, which made him smile in return, letting go of the tension he had in his shoulders.

 His doe slowly took her hand away to hold his jaw still, resuming shaving him. Aemond felt a pang of disappointment but he knew she had to. She was gentle enough to shave off his facial hair, leaving stubbles across his jaw since she told him that she was afraid to cut him unintentionally. 

“There ya go,” she said, stepping back inspecting him with a smile. She reminisced about their first meeting, where he had a luscious long, silvery hair that cascaded longer than her own. Now, as she gazed at the man seated before her, she observed the transformation. His Targaryen lineage was unmistakable, his once-flowing locks now trimmed into a shorter style that framed his face. A hint of stubble added a rugged charm to his appearance, intensifying his masculine features even further. 

Aemond smiled when he saw how proud she was with her masterpiece’. As long as she likes it, Aemond was sure he will. “Do I look like a prince again?” He asked, just wanting to talk with her further. “You certainly do. A fine prince, I must admit.”

“A compliment from a wildling? Is the world ending tomorrow?” He hummed with amusement, teasing her further.

“If the world is ending tomorrow, what’s your last wish, Targaryen?” Stepping back from him, she puts her knife away as she keeps her eyes on his face. A mischievous smile plastered on his face. “I wish to see you in a silk dress.” 

She scoffed, “In your dreams.”

Aemond laughed at her answer. 

“Oh I will dream of you tonight.” 

A pause.

He saw how a bashful smile tugged her lips as she turned to face him, “I will look foolish in a silk dress. I am a spearwife, not a lady at court.”

“I am not jesting. I would die to see you in one.”

“So you would laugh at me?” 

He knew that she was jesting but he couldn’t help but to grave at her words.

“Quite the opposite, my lady,” he said as he stood up on his feet. 

Flattered, she smiled. “Surely I am a free woman but I am no lady–. I eat with my hands, Aemond–. And I am sure the ladies at your castle don’t do that.” 

Oh how he could stare at her smile for hours. 

“You will look splendid in a dress,” he said sincerely, stepping closer to her. “But I feel splendid in my usual attire. I didn’t come from the south like you– besides, dressing like any of the men around here does not make me less of a lady.” Aemond couldn’t help but to smile knowing how different the free folk’s custom were comparing to westeros. His doe is free to dress as she pleases, hunt like a man, swear like a man. Even if it was different on how he was raised to view maidens, he didn’t think of his doe any less. She was fierce and straightforward. Too Stubborn and loud. But she could be gentle and clever even if it appears rarely. 

Aemond couldn’t help but to adore her. “I knew of that. I did not say you were less of a woman, but a man couldn’t help but to imagine a pretty woman with a nice silk dress.” 

“And sometimes the way we clothe is how we preserve our identity. I am a free woman, I am a spearwife, I am a warrior, and I would like to stay that way.” 

“And I will accept all of you.” 

Stopping right in front of her as his body gently collides with hers as his tall body looms over her smaller form. “You will look splendid in any clothing, but those ladies in the south will look terrible in yours,” the one eyed prince complimented his companion as he looked her up and down. Even with only an eye, he could read her like a book. How his doe’s eyes softened, her cheeks slowly turning into a light shade of red as her lips slightly smiled, her pretty teeth evident and could make any man in Westeros melt in a second. “Are you trying to woo me, snow haired?” Shoving him away with a laugh. 

That’s where he knew he had her. 

She was too flustered to even face him. 

Stepping away from him, Aemond saw how his doe exited the tent without a word. Letting her presence linger as he stared at the entrance. His heart thumped, even just the thought of her made him warm. It has been awhile since he felt this way. And he intends to keep this feeling alive. For she made him alive. Resurrected. 

Her tribe was nomadic, it was quite common for a few wildling tribes she said. Aemond listened to her as they walked through the snowy lands of the field. Until they find the perfect spot, they shall camp together. Even if she kept reassuring him that they will march back to the wall soon, Aemond couldn’t help but not to think of it when all he could think of being with her. 

Being free with her. 

Train with her,

Hunt with her, 

Even as simple as walking side by side with her as they venture through the fields and mountains with her tribe. 

The sky was dark as they lit a fire in the middle of their camp. It was simple, but lively. The wildlings sang and feast, childrens running around as the night was filled with their laughter. The songs they sang were foreign to his ears, but they were beautiful. They sang with their heart; it was full of life. His eye couldn’t tear off from her, who was laughing with her friends, singing with joy as the fire warmed them in the cold night. 

They were a family.

Something he craved for since he was a child. 

Aemond knew his mother tried his best while his father was…detached. He longed for the warmth a family has as a whole. He wished to feast with laughter with his siblings. Laughter and warmth. Not silence and resentment. Even in secret, he longed for the warmth of his half-sister to her children. Yet his mother spoke nothing but words filled with venom about her half-sister and her family. 

Now he wondered if any of that were true. 

He only had Vhagar 

And even the stranger took her away from him. 

Looking up, he saw her standing across the fireplace. 

She smiled underneath the moonlight. 

He smiled at the sight, yet he wondered if the stranger would take her away one day. 

It scared him. 

“Why so gloomy, Targaryen?”

Gruff sitting down beside him

“It is nothing, today’s training has really worn me out,” he muttered. Slowly regaining back to the present, leaving his memories in the back of his mind. “Yeah? Not because you can’t bed my friend over there?” Nudging Aemond as he gave the prince a glance at her. 

Aemond stared at the red hair, giving him a look. 

“I shall not disrespect her like that.” 

Gruff could only scoff, “I’ve caught ya undressing her with that purple eye of yours–,”

“–I do not undress her with my eye–,”

“–Oh I think you do. I bet you have multiple wet dreams of her–,”

“–Do not taint her like a common whore–,”

“–A common whore? Mate, I bet she wants to bang you as much as you d–.”

Aemond groaned and stood up, intending to leave this conversation. 

“We are free to bed anyone we want. You are not in the south anymore,” Gruff exclaimed to Aemond. As much as Aemond would like to leave that red haired wildling to his own thoughts, he couldn’t help but to speak, “But it does not hurt to respect one.”

“Respect? This is not about respect, it is about passion and freedom!”

“But is it respect if I force her to bed with me?” Aemond hissed in frustration, conflicted with his desires and morality. “Force? You know well she will not reject you, one eyed,” Gruff said with amusement. “You do not know that. I do not know that, no one in this cursed world knows that! No one knows except her.” Running his finger through his hair, he stomped away from the scene wanting to be left alone with his own thoughts. 

He was not good with wooing or romance. It came to sense that he never really knew how to woo one. That time in his tent, it just slipped from his tongue and if he were to reenact it, he was sure he would fail. The first time he bedded a woman when he turned ten-and-three. 

And that was not based on his consent.

Fucked that same whore, believing that she was the only one who understood his body and vulnerability for she was the one who took him for the first time. Convincing him that she was the only one who could take pleasure out of him. Before Aegon ruined it– did he? Or that he needed Aegon to humiliate him so he could break that cycle? Was it a blessing in disguise? He does not know. 

Then Alys, 

A story he both regretted and cherished. 

He didn’t mean to hurt her at first.

Yes she was a war prize but she was his shelter when the world turned his back on him. She was his ally, helping him through the war. Didn’t he plant his seed in her? She was full of his heir when he last saw her, kissed her. Or devoured her. She knew of the future, then did she not know that he was about to die? Did she intend to send him to his death? 

Did she keep his child?

Did he put his seed in her based on her consent?

Conflicted with his morality and mistakes, Aemond kicked the snowy ground at every step he took, away from the camp. Away from her. 

Afraid that his desires would take over and hurt her. 

Like how Aegon hurted him,

Like how that whore used him, 

Like how he hurted Alys. 

He will never forgive himself if he does. 

“What did Gruff say to you now?”

d Aemond turned around and saw her emerging from afar. She walked towards him as her torch casting a warm, golden glow that cut through the encircling darkness. The light from the torch was like a miniature sun blazing, lighting his way in the dark. In that moment, the torchlight became a beacon of hope and warmth for him. 

“He did not say anything to me,” Aemond lied. 

“Yeah he definitely did not say anything to you. And you're probably out here alone cuz you wanted to take a piss,” her words sarcastic and unimpressed with his lie. “He did not say anything, I just needed some time alone,” he said sincerely, trying to convince her. The she-wildling stepped closer to him as her torch gave them both a warm glow. “You do know I can cut off his cock and hang it in front of your tent, right?”

Caught off guard, Aemond could only let out an amused scoff, “I know you can.” 

Aemond looked away nervously as he realized how deep she was staring at him as the winds of the north gently blew her locks. 

“Come with me,” encouraging him to follow as she walked ahead lighting the way with her torch. 

“Where to?

She does not say as she kept leading him away from the camp, before finally stopping just behind a giant rocks since they camped not far from the mountains. He paid attention to how she stabbed her torch in the ground before sitting down behind a rock. “Sit down,” she ordered, patting an empty spot beside her. 

“Quite a distance for only asking me to sit,” he teased. 

“I want to show you something. They should be here at any moment.”

“They? The undead?”

“No! Heavens, no,” she chuckles. 

Then he heard heavy footsteps. Heavier than any footsteps he heard coming from a man. The footsteps were slow, heavy, yet steady. “Keep yourself hidden, okay?” She said as she peeked through the rock. Aemond curiously followed her wondering what is it that she’d like to show him. 

The colossal figure emerged from the shadowed mist, and that was the first time he laid his eyes on a giant. He had heard tales of such creatures—myths whispered around campfires and recounted by old maesters and history books—but nothing could have prepared him for the sheer scale of this living legend. The giant moved with surprising grace despite his size, each step causing the ground to tremble subtly. “Is that a giant?” He asked in awe, not tearing his eyes away from the creature.

“They reside in the mountains, and they usually come down when the sky is dark. Incredibly shy creatures I might say, but can be very angry and aggressive if they feel threatened. I don’t want us to scare them away,” she whispered as she rests her chin on the hard cold surface of the rock that hid them from the giant’s view. 

“Have you ever personally encountered one?”

“No, not directly. My father has, and he said that they were intimidating but they have a sense of dignity in them. Although they appear stoic,  they are far from aggressive when you treat them kindly. Us wildlings have lived side by side with them and respected their space.”

As he sat there listening, a dawning realisation unfurled within him. He felt a deep sense of fondness for her, it struck him with a gentle but undeniable force, filling him with a warmth that surpassed even the glow of the firelight. In that tranquil space, he understood that his feelings for her went far beyond mere admiration. The way she stared at the giant, he saw how much she adored them. 

As the giant stomps back up the rugged mountain slopes, his colossal form gradually swallowed by the encroaching mist, she turned to look at him one last time. Her pretty eyes boring into his, “I have another place to show you.” She stood up with a smile, her movements almost as seamless as the flickering dance of the torch she held. Without a moment’s hesitation, she began to jog away, the rhythmic thud of her boots against the earth blending with the crackle of the torch’s flame. Aemond couldn’t help but to follow her along, curious what wonders she’d like to show him. 

Following her torch through the darkness of the night, he saw how she lead him into a cave near the mountains. The flickering light danced across the rough walls, revealing glimpses of ancient stones as she ventured further into the depths. He followed closely behind, each step echoing softly in the confined space, the only illumination coming from the small, steadfast flame that illuminated her path ahead. 

As they ventured deeper into the cave, the chill of the outer world gradually receded, replaced by a gentle, welcoming warmth in the heart of the cave. Before them lay a natural hot spring, its steaming waters glowing with an inviting warmth. The heat radiated outward, a feeling of comfort that wrapped around him like an old friend. 

“I found this the other day,” she said, placing the torch gently in the ground of the old stones of the cave. A pregnant pause, he saw how she turned around to face him once again. Swallowing a lump in her throat, she slightly shivered as she exhaled a nervous breath; an unusual demeanour he finds her in. 

“I heard that you are afraid to bed me.”

Aemond’s heart stopped for a moment.

She began to untie the intricate knots securing her layered coat.

“I am no animal”

He could feel his heart racing. 

As the coat loosened, the heavy folds of fur and cloth fell away, a layer of sheepskin that was wrapped tight around her body. 

“I know I am no lady at court. I know I am a wildling, called a savage by your people. But I am just as a woman who is able to pleasure someone at sex.”

His heart raced as realisation sank into him. 

She thought he was afraid to bed her because of her. While in reality, he was afraid to bed her because of himself. It was never her to begin with, and now she throws herself into him to prove something to him. 

While in reality, she does not need to prove him anything. 

Aemond rushed into her before she could undress herself fully for him. Holding her hands in place, refusing her to undress any further. “I know you are,” he said. His voice is gentle and careful. “But I do not want it to be this way.”

“Why? Men always want to bed a woman when they have a chance.” Aemond sensed from her words that she still does not believe his sincere intentions. “I do, I do want to bed you– you have no idea,” he says with a frustrated chuckle, smiling at her glossy gentle gaze as her lovely lips were slightly parted, still searching for an answer from him. “How could I not?”

Placing his hand on her cheek. 

“And I am not afraid of you–. I am just afraid of myself.”

Dropping his hand, Aemond hangs his head low as he couldn’t even face her. 

“I have hurt a lot of women in the past,” he confessed.

“And women have hurt me in the past in return.”

She stood in stunned silence, her mind a whirl of unspoken thoughts as he bared his soul before her. His confession hung in the air between them, raw and trembling with the weight of his vulnerability. “I do not wish to hurt you. And I do not want you to feel any less because of me.” 

“You will not hurt me.” 

He felt the subtle shift in the air as she stepped away, a delicate movement as her touch lingered and echoed through the stillness of the moment. 

“But will you bathe with me?” A gentle longing question that slipped from her tongue. “We do not have to touch each other.” If he had the bravery he once had, he would tell her that he would do anything to touch her for he has longed for her touch for so long. So he nodded as he himself slowly undressed as well in front of her. 

Bare like the day they were born, with his healthy eye, he could not help but to eye her from up to down, taking her in. He could not find the right words for how much he craved for her. She was perfect.

He puts out his hand for her to hold, “Careful, it’s quite slippery.” 

Smiling to him, she gently placed her hand in his as he led her into the hot springs that nature has provided for them. As the warm water hit their skin, he smiled when he heard her gentle chuckle as her smaller hand was held tight with his. When her body fully sunk into the warm water, Aemond kept her body close to hers. “May I?” Disregarding her suggestion of not touching each other, his hands reached out to her waist, but careful not to touch her without her consent. 

“You may.”

A smile formed in his face as he gently cupped her naked waist and pulled her closer in the water. Their chests pressed against each other, and he swore shivers run down his spine when she wrapped her arms around his neck. Her gaze was intimate as a gentle light made her skin glow. The one eyed prince could not help but to rest his forehead on hers, embracing each other in silence. 

“Did you mean your oath when you were a crow? For not using your cock?”

Her choice of words made him chuckle, nonetheless he understood her. “I never meant any of the oaths I spoke.” His doe smiled at him, brushing his now short silver hair back. “What was your former lover like?” She asked with a smile, reassuring him. “She was older, long black hair, and a witch.” 

Her eyebrows raised with amusement, “A witch? Oh could I compete with that?” She teased. Aemond chuckled and pulled her closer, wanting her to know that he chose her now. “She was my past and I must admit that she left a trail in my heart. But you are my present and future. Without her, I wouldn’t be here with you,” he whispered intimately, pressing a gentle kiss on her cheek. 

She hummed, “But still, she is a proper lady nonetheless.”

Tucking her hair behind her ear, Aemond asked, “What does that mean?”

A pregnant pause.

“I am no princess, nor I have a title. I am just a wildling who just spotted you before the others. I apologise for it, and one day when you do bring me to your home, I do not think I shall fit in. But nonetheless, I think I can love you just as much as anyone could in your life. I hope you know that,” she whispered as tears started to build up in her eyes. 

As much as he hates to admit it, she was right. If he did bring her home, what then? What would his mother say? What would the people say if a Targaryen prince married a wildling? Even the smallfolk have higher status than her. But from all circumstances, she was still his.

“Do not apologise for any of that,” resting his forehead on hers once again. “You are not just a wildling who just happens to pass by the wall when you see me. I believe the gods sent you to me. If it weren’t for you I might be rotting in the watch’s cell.” Nuzzling his nose to her hair, Aemond couldn’t help but to embrace her, never wanting to let her go. 

“All my life, I cared for the judgement of others and the prison of power in the realm. But then I met you. You taught me freedom, love, and growing up. For once, I want to do as I please.” He pulls away slightly to look into her pretty face. 

“For once, I want to do as I please and stop caring what people might think of me. I want to love you aside from my title. For at the end I am just a man and you are my woman. And no one shall take you away from me, nor anyone could take me away from you.”

“I might not have bed you, but I want us to grow. I hope you understand. I want this more than just…lust. I want to know you. All of you.”

Spellbound, as she smiled brightly, the joy in her face was evident even as tears rolled down her cheeks. The contrast was both heart-wrenching and beautiful—her eyes sparkled with a light that seemed to come from within, even as her tears glistened like morning dew upon her flushed skin. “I don’t want to leave this cave,” she whispered as she traced his sharp jaw with her gentle touch. 

“Me too.” 

Aemond suddenly drew her into a passionate kiss. The world around them seemed to blur as their lips met, igniting a spark that burned between them. His arms wrapped around her with an urgent embrace, pulling her closer. The kiss was a tempest of emotions, a melding of longing and desire, each touch and caress speaking volumes that words could never capture. 

“I do not deserve you,” he said in between kisses. 

Lifting her up a little, fixing his grip on her. Aemond groaned in pleasure when her nails digged into his back, making him flex it a little to feel her even more before resuming their kiss that made his doe giggle when their lips connect once more; repetitive wet clicks echoing in the cave they wished to live in forever. 

“You deserve every single inch of me as I deserve you.” 

a/n: This is literally my favourite chapter so far like I actually got emotional writing this🥹🤏✨ Yes heavily inspired by Jon and Ygritte (I’m obsessed with them) I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did writing it! I would actually love to write more of Aemond and our wildling reader so I don’t think this series will end in just 10 chapters soooooooo stay tuned for future chapters<3🌷💫

[corroded-hellfire]

Gimme A Break - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish Story

Collaboration with my beloved @munson-blurbs

Summary: A trip to the grocery store has you running into some familiar faces--and one not so friendly.

Note: Let Brittany bashing commence!

Warnings: talk of body image

Words: 2k

[As You Wish masterlist]

In your opinion, there’s no such concept as a bad time for soup. The dead of winter, the stifling heat of summer—it’s all good. 

The fall weather that’s rolled into Hawkins has inspired you to try your hand at making some from scratch, bringing you to Bradley’s Big Buy on a Sunday afternoon. You’re inspecting a bag of carrots for freshness and tossing them in the cart haphazardly when you feel a sudden thump against your leg. 

“Wha—” you start, ready to confront whoever was careless enough to ram into you. Your scowl immediately softens when you see the two smiling faces looking up at you. “Oh, hi boys!”

Luke, unsurprisingly, is the one who ran into you at full speed. Ryan is a few paces behind his bull-in-a-china-shop brother, but his expression is equally happy. 

You crouch down to give each of them a hug. The way they both wrap their arms around you radiates love’s warmth, and it melts your heart. 

“Are you buying anything good?” you ask, knowing they’ll be wholly unimpressed with your basket full of vegetables. 

Luke nods vigorously. “CHICKEN NUGGETS!” He bellows, drawing irate glares from nearby shoppers. “Daddy has a cool-pon.”

“It’s coupon,” Ryan says with a gentle roll of his eyes. 

You’re still stuck on the mention of their dad. Eddie’s here? And you don’t have on a lick of makeup—of course. 

“Where is Daddy?” you ask, looking up and down the aisle in the unlikely event that you missed him. 

“He’s uh…” Luke trails off, scrunching his nose as he searches for his dad. Carly Simon’s “You’re So Vain” crinkles over the PA system after being interrupted by a call for assistance in the frozen food department as Brittany appears at the end of the aisle.

An irritated voice calls out from the end of the aisle. “What’s taking you two so—oh. You’re here.” Brittany crosses her arms over her chest, huffing out an impatient sigh when she spots you. 

Luke pipes up, still attached to your leg. “We can’t find the asper-, uh, aparag, the um…”

“Asparagus,” Brittany corrects him as if the five-year-old should be able to pronounce words perfectly by this age.

“Oh,” you say, turning to exactly where you know the asparagus is. “Here you go.”

Ryan gladly takes it from you with a grin. Huh, maybe there is a Munson who shares your affinity for veggies. It certainly isn’t Luke—or Eddie, for that matter. 

“You’re the best!” he says cheerfully, placing it in the cart that Brittany’s been pushing.

“Boys.” It almost sounds like she’s admonishing them for being kind to you. She looks at you with unkind eyes. “Maybe you should work here instead of for us,” she says, trying to play it off as a joke, but you can tell there’s some underlying threat. 

Luke is not amused by this, his little fingers digging into your leg as he clutches onto your jeans even tighter. “No! She has to be our babysitter forever and ever!” He pouts, eyes welling up with tears at the mere mention of you leaving. 

“Maybe not forever,” Ryan points out, always the practical one, “because one day we’ll be grown-ups with our own kids—”

“And then she can babysit them!” Luke declares, proud of his idea, loosening his grip on you. 

Brittany shakes her head, immediately eschewing the notion. “C’mon, let’s get going,” she says tersely. “Dad’s gonna be wondering where we are.” The cruel curl of her lip serves as a painful reminder of what’s hers; more specifically, what isn’t yours. 

As if on cue, Eddie meanders out from a nearby aisle, a canister of quick oats tucked under his arm. He’s wearing gray sweatpants that lay low on his hips and leave little to the imagination. Somehow on this brisk autumn day you have sweat beading along the back of your neck as you take him in.

“You’re So Vain” fades out on the speakers above, only to start playing the infectious opening notes of “Uptown Girl” by Billy Joel.

“Britt, I couldn’t find the old-fashioned kind, but will this—oh, hey,” Eddie says, stopping in his tracks to acknowledge you. “You here to make sure these gremlins don’t lock themselves in the ice cream freezer?”

Luke grins, lets go of your leg, and takes your hand proudly in his as if it was somehow all his doing that you’re here in the grocery store the same time as they are. 

“Hi,” you greet before realizing you have a dopey smile on your face. “Uh, yeah. And it seems like I got here just in time. This one here almost had the lid off a rocky road before I caught him.” You shake Luke’s small hand in your own for emphasis and the boy wrinkles his nose up at you, the spitting image of his father.

Eddie chuckles and goes to respond, but his wife cuts him off.

“I guess those oats will work,” she says as she takes the canister from him—or snatches it, more like. “Come on, we didn’t even get to the dairy section yet.”

“Or,” Luke ventures, his hand gripping yours tighter in the chill air of the produce section, “we could get a cow in the backyard and get our milk that way.”

Eddie chuckles. “Hard pass, little man. We had to bring in reinforcement just to handle you and your brother.” He looks over and winks at you. 

It takes all of your strength and will power not to immediately vomit right then and there at the wink. Such a simple gesture from this man has you ready to lose all control of your body. 

Brittany huffs, clearly annoyed at the interaction. How dare anyone be having a conversation in her presence that doesn’t revolve around her? 

“Well, we need to keep shopping.” Brittany turns on her heel, spotting a red bag of fun-size KitKats in her husband’s other hand. “And put that back. The last thing you need is more junk food.” Her eyes flit down to his stomach, which has softened with time and a steady diet of pretzels and Mountain Dew.

The tips of Eddie’s ears turn pink, and he tries to hide them behind his curls. He clears his throat, the whole time avoiding your eyes, and tosses the KitKat bag onto an empty spot of a nearby shelf. He’s clearly embarrassed, but you’re seeing red. Fury scorches you from the inside out and it’s so potent that it might just dry up some of the vegetables around you. There have been many times in the past where you’ve wanted to tell Brittany off, but this one takes the cake. The callous yet truthful words rest on the tip of your tongue, but you know it would only make the mess bigger for everyone involved. You don’t want to add any extra stress for Eddie. Brittany is the one who should be embarrassed for treating her husband that way, not Eddie. That man is drop dead gorgeous and he still would be if he inhaled a bag of those KitKats every single day. 

Leave it to Luke to break the tension that he wasn’t even aware of was surrounding them all on this produce aisle. The young boy spies a can of spinach on the shelf and snatches it up, staring at it with wide eyes.

“Will this make me strong like Popeye?!”

“Sure, sweetie,” Brittany says, not paying any attention to her youngest son whatsoever. 

Brittany turns and heads towards the end of the aisle, no goodbye to you, no saying where she’s going, just leaving and assuming the guys will follow behind her. 

“We’ll see you tomorrow after school, right?” Ryan asks, bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet.

“I’ll be there,” you assure him, booping the tip of his nose. He gives you a quick, strong hug around your middle.

Luke, still holding on to the can of spinach, blows you an overdramatic kiss which you pretend to almost drop into a bed of lettuce. The little boy giggles and it’s one of the best sounds you’ve ever heard. 

Eddie takes a step closer to you, still feeling the sting of embarrassment, and speaks in a soft voice. “We, uh, should get going.” Eddie clears his throat. It kills you to see how Brittany zaps the life out of him. “I’ll—we’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“I’ll be there,” you promise once again. 

Eddie offers you a small smile before turning to his sons. 

“All right, come on. Let’s catch on up to Mom.”

The boys don’t look too enthused about that, and it warms your heart that they’d rather stay here and hangout with you. 

“Bye guys,” you say, waving to all three of them as they head down the aisle.

Once they’re gone you heave a heavy sigh. Being in Brittany’s presence for two minutes was exhausting enough, you have no idea how those three manage to live with her.

You try to refocus on your shopping, however impossible that might seem now. When you’re checking over the items you already have and look back up at the shelves, you spot the red KitKat bag that Eddie had wanted to buy. There’s no hesitation at all to pick it up and add it to your pile of groceries.

The Munson car isn’t hard to spot as you step out into the parking lot of the store. You see it almost every day and the gorgeous, familiar looking man loading groceries into the trunk is also a huge indicator. 

Not surprisingly, Brittany is in the car while Eddie does all the work. The boys are in the backseat and from what you can make out of their silhouettes, they’re arguing with one another. They’re kids, they’d probably be more of a hindrance than help to Eddie. But Brittany could at least be doing something. 

Steeling your nerves, you take a deep breath and head over to him. 

“Eddie?”

His head whips around. “Hey,” he says with a small smile. “Everything okay?”

“Mhm,” you nod, summoning all of your courage and handing him the candy. “You left these on the shelf.” You try to play it off casually, but the slight tremble in your voice gives your nervousness away. 

He starts to take them but pulls back. “I probably shouldn’t,” he mumbles, shoving his hand into his pocket. “Britt’s been on me to lose the ‘dad weight’ for a while.”

You shake your head, mostly to keep from opening your mouth and saying something about his wife that you’ll regret.

“I think you look good,” you say. “Um, like, you don’t need to lose any weight.” You’re perfect the way you are, you ache to tell him, but you shouldn’t. You can’t. 

Eddie senses that you have words unspoken, but he doesn’t press further. “Well, um, thanks.” He takes the bag and opens it, grabbing two before giving it back to you. “Can’t get caught,” he explains with a laugh. 

You grin at him, an idea already taking form. “I’ll bring one each day I babysit. Sneak it in like contraband.”

“As long as the boys don’t find it first,” Eddie chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest. “The last thing they need is more sugar.”

You agree with a laugh. “Deal.”

Eddie tucks the KitKats into his jacket pocket. 

“Thank you, by the way,” he says softly. 

“No problem. Just some candy,” you shrug. 

He shakes his head. “No, it…” he trails off. “Just…thank you.”

You smile as he ducks into the driver’s seat, and you walk back to your own car. As you pack up the back with your groceries, you mentally calculate how long this bag of KitKats will last if you bring Eddie one every day that you work. You purse your lips as you slam the trunk closed.

“That’s not nearly long enough for my liking,” you mumble to yourself as you slip into the driver’s seat.

Once you put the key in the ignition, the car rumbles to life and the purr of the engine sounds like it’s coming from your brain as it churns out an idea. 

You smile to yourself and shift your car into gear.

“Guess I’ll just have to buy some more bags of candy.”

[angelst4rs]

☆. . . stupid string.

☆. . . a red string suddenly appeared on scaramouche's finger. and he does not like it.

☆. . . gn reader, red string of fate au, scara's pov.

☆. . . wrote this after i told @fairykazu about the idea. hope you like it, vidia 🫶

stupid. he truly does think it’s stupid. everything about the red string tied around his pinky finger, which will supposedly “lead him to his soulmate”, is just stupid.

scaramouche disliked—no, he detested the very concept of this. why would he want a soulmate? he’s already content with living all by himself. besides, what kind of person would like him, let alone love him?

must be some kind of weirdo, he thought. the more he stared at the crimson colored thread, the more annoyed he got. with the way it was tightening around his finger, he knew his soulmate was actively trying to search for him.

there’s no way in hell will he let his soulmate find him, so he did the one thing that would make sense for him to do, cut the string.

“...what the actual fuck…?” scaramouche muttered in disbelief as he watched the scissors break in his hands when he attempted to cut the string. do the archons hate him that much? what kind of sick joke was that?

so he’s doomed to meet his soulmate eventually, huh? which one of the archons proposed this stupid idea anyway? guess his bucket list of fighting an archon will be crossed out again.

not wanting to give up so easily, he tried everything that he could think of to try and sever the thread on his finger. but again, nothing worked. just what was this string made of? the very thread that binds the universe into one? probably.

stumped and out of ideas, scaramouche simply sat down and contemplated everything. feeling the red cord tighten once more, he couldn’t help but wonder, why is my soulmate trying so hard to find me?

as the days flew by, scaramouche started to live with the string around his finger, trying his best not to untie it—which did work, but the string simply reappeared again, now tied even tighter around his pinky.

if he’s honest, he’s quite amused by how persistent his soulmate is in finding him. perhaps his soulmate is getting very close to him at this point, maybe he’ll meet them in just a few days. who knows?

on many of his sleepless nights, scaramouche’s mind is plagued heavily by his soulmate. or at least, the idea of his soulmate. just what does the world have to offer for a puppet?

what kind of person are they? do they enjoy bitter tea like he does? how will they react when they finally meet him, someone—no. something that’s nothing but a work discarded by his creator?

maybe he’ll just leave this up to fate. it’s no use obsessing over something that’ll eventually happen. whether he’ll like it or not, his soulmate will come. and whether they’ll accept him or not, that’s a story for another day.

likes & reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[mallowsweetmiri]

Percabeth post Tartarus

As things settled down and the sun began to set, Percy and Annabeth were escorted into the Argo II. They’d been in Tartarus for three weeks, and they had definitely seen better days.

“Will you please come eat dinner after you get cleaned up? I’ve been so worried about you guys,” Piper frowned, helping the two of them on board. Annabeth nodded before falling into a coughing fit, Percy using all his strength to hold her up. She collapsed on her knees taking Percy down with her. Pipers heart broke, she had never seen them so weak.

“I think I need to get her to bed first. We haven’t slept in weeks.”

Piper wasn’t sure how to accept that information, but looking at the two of them, she knew it had been true. Percy’s voice rang with a rasp she’d never heard before, and Annabeth was coated in red and black dust. Jason appeared on deck and immediately rushed over to the pair.

“Let me help,” he offered, but Percy had already scooped Annabeth up and into his arms.

“We’re okay guys, I promise. I just need to take her to her room. Once we get some sleep we’ll feel better,” Percy began to carry her below deck, whispering into her hair as he slowly made his way down. Piper looked to Jason with worry.

“They’ll be okay, Pipes. They’re strong,” Jason assured her, but Piper had never been more concerned.

Below the deck, Percy placed Annabeth into her bed, taking off her shoes as she shivered. Did she have a fever? He leaned over and brushed some of the blond curls away from her face. He gently kissed her forehead, stroking the back of her neck with his supporting hand. She wasn’t too warm.

“Percy, I’m scared,” she whispered, turning to look up at him. It was something she rarely admitted, but Percy felt the same way. The lingering terror still hiding within their minds, the feeling of something watching them. He kissed her cheek this time.

“We’re safe, ‘beth,” he whispered back. There was no use in them using their speaking voices. For one, their throats were shot, dry and raw from the toxic air of Tartarus. Secondly, they were laying together so closely, there was no need. Percy could feel her shallow breaths on his face. They laid like this for a while, just holding each other. Annabeths fingers ran down his spine, finally reaching that point in the small of his back. Percy shuddered and kissed her in the crook of her neck. Neither of them found sleep as the lights of the room were still on and their bodies seemed to jerk at any small sound. Annabeth felt like she was going insane, like they had gone insane while they were down there. Eventually, Percy propped himself up with his elbow.

“We should really get cleaned up. Maybe get some food too,” Percy offered gently. She nodded in agreement. They both crawled off the bed and plodded off into the bathroom. When they reached the threshold of the door, they stopped. They both seemed to come to the realization that they couldn’t really shower with each other, but neither wanted to be apart. Percy cleared his throat as he stepped aside to let her through the door. They both stood there unsure of what to do.

“Um, what if I shower first, and you just sit out here and give me a towel once I’m done. Then I’ll do the same for you,” Annabeth offered, gesturing to the toilet seat. Percy nodded, he would gladly sit on the toilet if it meant making sure Annabeth was safe. Annabeth turned on the shower before walking to the vanity to take a look at herself. She was covered in some sort of dust, along with hundreds of cuts and scars. She attempted to brush through her hair but it was no use, she let out a huff of frustration. Percy walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, kissing into her neck.

“I’ll help you brush it once we’re done,” he whispered, moving her hair to one side of her shoulder to kiss more deeply into her neck. Annabeth felt her face heat up. It felt like it had been ages since they’d got to be alone like this. She gained control of herself and cleared her throat.

“Turn around,” she said, her voice raspy but still her commanding self. Percy raised an eyebrow. “So I can change, Seaweed Brain.” This made him smirk. Annabeth rolled her eyes and pushed him playfully as he turned to the wall and covered his eyes. She could still see his smile creeping on the edges of his face. She shook her head smiling as she took off the ragged clothes. Percy may have had his eyes closed, but he heard every sound of the fabric moving off her body and hitting the floor. She moved into the shower. Percy sat on the toilet and waited, trying not to think about his naked girlfriend who was about 2 feet away from him behind a plastic curtain.

“Pass me a towel?” Her small voice rang from the shower. Percy obliged. In only a moment, Annabeth was stepping out of the shower, her towel wrapped around her body tightly as her curly hair dripped water onto the floor. She looked up at him, “Your turn.” The two of them switched places in the room.

“You don’t have to turn around if you don’t want to,” Percy winked, stripping off his shirt. Annabeth rolled her eyes and turned around, but only the hide her blush. Percy stepped into the shower as Annabeth secured her towel in place. She attempted to brush through her matted hair, which was going surprisingly well before she heard the shower turn off. She grabbed a towel and stuck it through the curtain. Within a few seconds, Percy stepped out of the shower in all his glory. Despite being starved and terrorized for three weeks, he looked godly. Annabeth rarely saw him with his hair wet, and she mentally groaned at how good he looked. She turned back to the mirror to finish brushing her hair, but Percy grabbed the brush out of her hand.

“Let me,” he rasped, moving behind her. Through the mirror, Annabeth watched his muscles shift in his arms and torso as he finished brushing her hair. She had a permanent blush on her face from the intimacy of it all. When he was done, he wrapped his arms tightly around her and rocked them back and forth as buried his face into her neck. Annabeth sighed and leaned into his body. They were safe.

“Let’s go get dressed,” Annabeth said, grabbing his hand and leading him into the bedroom. Percy thought there were definitely other things he wanted to do, but he listened to his girlfriend. So they took turns sitting on the bed while the other one changed, both of them silent as their heads ran with thoughts. When they were finished, they decided to go get food. Annabeth grabbed onto Percy’s arm as they entered the hall, a habit she had been forming over the past few weeks. They had rarely let go of each other’s hands.

“There you two are,” Piper sighed with relief as they entered the hall. Annabeth sent her a quick smile. She’d missed her too.

“Sorry we took a while, I had about three weeks of grime plastered to my skin,” Percy joked as he and Annabeth sat next to each other. Piper had noticed the two of them both had wet hair, but she didn’t mention it. She figured after spending weeks together in the pits of hell, they could enjoy some privacy on the ship.

“I’m just happy you guys are back with us. Here, have some food and I’ll make some tea. Just relax, you guys are safe,” and for some reason, hearing this from Piper made both Percy and Annabeth feel instantly better. They ate mostly in silence, not wanting to share any details of their experience just yet. It was too gruesome to recount over dinner, and the last thing either of them wanted right now was to relive the weeks of terror and pain. Percy put his hand on Annabeths knee, mindlessly stroking her thigh as he ate his dinner. Their chairs were practically pushed together at the table, as if any space between them was equivalent to a mile. Percy didn’t care if he was being over protective, he would do anything to keep Annabeth safe. He had fallen into hell for her, and he would do it again in a heartbeat. He would brush her tangled hair and take off her muddy shoes everyday for the rest of his life if it meant getting to spend it with her. He smiled at her, she smiled back. They were both truly happy in that moment just to be next to each other, safe. Percy leaned in to kiss her, not caring that all of his friends were watching. Not caring that in just a few days, they’d face yet another war. Percy would kill anyone who tried to hurt his future with Annabeth without hesitation. On that note, the two of them said their goodnights to their friends before heading back to Annabeths bunk. There was an unspoken agreement that they’d be sleeping in the same bed now. As Percy settled himself behind Annabeth for the night, he made a promise to himself. If they could make it through their senior year of high school, he was going to propose to her. With that promise fresh in his mind, he kissed his girlfriend goodnight and closed his eyes only to be met with visions of the Arai. A few minutes later Annabeth jerked awake and accidentally punched Percy in the nose.

They didn’t get much sleep that night.

[ddreamywitch]

Chapter Three - Swan upon Leda

knight!benjicot blackwood x princess!reader

word count: 3.8k

a/n: things are warming up between princess and benji :)

warnings: the king is a terrible dad, mentions of complicated childbirth

song: Swan Upon Leda - Hozier

Marion is exasperated. Her hands fling through the air like a nervous little bird, desperate to get their point across and yet failing all the same. 

“You are out of your mind,” she cries. 

The jewels she’d been threading through your braids are long forgotten, a sparkling disarray on your vanity. You pick up a dark red ruby and roll it back and forth between your fingers. “If I don’t go, they’ll think I’ve abandoned them.” Your lips, painted a lush berry colour, pull into a pout that once worked exceedingly well on Ser Rodrick. “Please, Marion.”

Your handmaiden shakes her head. 

“It was a risk under the watch of Ser Rodrick,” she leans in closer, nervous eyes flitting to your door. “But with bloody Ben as your protector? He’ll have me impaled when he finds out.”

She whispers his name with fear, as though he would appear like some mirage at the mention of it. 

You’ve grown quite tired of this whole bloody Ben debacle. Benji, as he’s allowed you to call him, is less of a sword pointed at you now, but he still sulks, barely speaks. 

He doesn’t pose a threat, in this state he is in. You wonder if he would even notice if you let somebody else take your place. 

“He won’t find out,” you say, determinedly, even though you know it is to no avail. Marion is loyal and sweet but she is headstrong enough to not give leeway to every idea of yours. You love that about her, even if right now it is giving you a headache. 

She takes the gem from you and loops it into your hair with her magically talented fingers. “Maybe in a moon or two, when that lad doesn’t give me the collywobbles anymore. If that does ever happen.” 

“Alright then. But will you get word to them that I shall return soon?” You ask. Whenever you ask for things with Marion, you feel a bit childlike and silly. 

She smiles at you, the little scar in her lower lip stretching as she does. “Of course, your grace.” 

And then after a moment’s silence. “I am certain they forgive you.” 

You nod, but still you decide on a plan. A stupid one, irrational at the very least but a plan nonetheless and you were not really the kind of woman who enjoyed changing your mind. 

Though you had on Benji. In some ways. But that is different. 

You throw a glance at your reflection, decorated and done up. Your father is slowly losing it these days, his festivities growing in both frequency and size, one more ridiculous than the other and you cannot stand it.

You’d be a fool to live so lavishly and in such luxury and turn a blind eye to continue the pursuit of the only thing of substantiality that you’ve ever done in your life. 

Rubies to match the fiery shades of your dress today. 

Rubies found somewhere far away and shipped across stormy seas to find their place somewhere as ridiculous as your hair. 

You cannot stand it, your presentation at the high table next to your family, for everyone to gawk at and soon to be auctioned off to the highest bidder. 

As though she reads your mind Marion pipes up. “The son of Lord Whent is here tonight,” she says. “I hear he has great hair.” 

You scoff. “Yes, great hair and a great hunger for the brothels of the realm.” 

“You may find my lady, that such behaviour may prove itself of use to you.”

A low laugh rumbles from the door and both of you snap around, cheeks flushed and eyes wide. 

Benji stands, hands resting on the pommel of his sword and looking rather amused. 

“I do believe that is an improper topic of conversation,” he says. 

Your arm wraps around Marion’s midriff. “That you should speak of impropriety of all people,” you say. 

He is still a mystery to you. You do not know if he would not go and tattle on your friend if given the chance. 

But he shrugs. “Your brother says that you are to meet him in the court before sunset. Your sister is arriving.”

You gasp, sharp and loud, the quick inhale like a whip to your lungs. “Cordelia?!”

Your maid claps her hands together in excitement.

Benjicot looks a bit confused but he doesn’t scoff or roll his eyes so you presume that he really has decided to move on from his rather aggravating bit. 

“My god, she will hate my dress,” you say but the sheen of joy your face is dipped in betrays the negative nature of your words. 

“Out, Ser Benjicot. Womanly work is afoot in here,” she orders him, too fast with her tongue to worry about fearing him and forces you the other way again. 

He obeys. You see him bow in the mirror and  a small smile tugs at your lips. 

Maybe he wouldn’t be the biggest of your worries. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Marion is done with you at a speed that should be deemed witchcraft. 

Your hair is neatly pulled out of your face and braided, gleaming with red jewels like a dying fire. 

In general, you look like the roaring fireplace in the banquet halls, layers of shimmering red fabric falling around you. 

There’s a nice breeze today, it tickles at your neck and kisses your cheeks softly, as you await your sister’s arrival at the castle’s main entrance.

Your father is not here, occupied with what he claims to be kingly duties but you suppose is more likely related to the royal wine cellars. 

Your brother speaks in a hushed tone with one of the council members, no longer an oddity with the king occupied so frequently.

Your feet hurt in your new shoes.

Benji shuffles a little bit next to you.

You’ve noticed that he’s never still, a consistent motion in your periphery.

“How do you like my dress?” You ask him, quietly enough that your brother wouldn’t hear, though you doubt he would care to listen.

Your knight hums a little, almost laughs. You expect the jab, twist the sigil ring on your hand, pull yourself together waiting for it but it never arrives. 

“Red’s my favourite colour, Princess.” 

It’s not a compliment. It’s a statement and he says it with all the nonchalance he should have, because it isn’t a compliment. 

But the little flutter it sends down your spine has all the characteristics of being complimented. 

You almost thank him but then you think better of it and just nod to yourself. You would tell him what your favourite colour is, or that you enjoy red as well but it feels too friendly. You’re not even sure if anybody knows your favourite colour. You’re not too certain if you have one at all, now that the matter has crossed your mind. 

But you are certain that it is not the colours of your house, as it is the case with Benjicot. 

What a foolish thing to be racking your brain over, you think but luckily the horn serves as salvation from your faults. 

The gates creak upon to reveal your sister and her entourage, all of them in a royal shade of dark green. She married into the neighbouring kingdom, her blood now runs in their colour. It has been over half a decade but you cannot get used to the sight of it, her days spent draped in your house’s symbols are all gone. 

The courtyard is almost empty. Good. No need for formalities.

You fiddle with your fingers as the carriage swings open, lightning running through your veins. 

Her face is just as it always is and your sister, after stepping down with caution, at the sight of you, immediately opens her arms. 

Your brother laughs, wholeheartedly as you plunge forward, like a horse nudged on, gravel flying up beneath delicate heels. 

She smells different and she is older but she feels all the same to you, just as she had when you were a little girl hanging onto her skirts. 

Your giggling melts together, a vibration of both your chests. 

“Oh darling girl, how I have missed you,” she whispers, soft kisses pressed into your hair. “You’ve grown into a wonderful woman.” She cups the side of your face and you lean into it. 

“Alright, what about me,” Tristan calls out, arms out by his side. 

Cordelia grins at him and steps past you. “I imagine the heir to the throne gets enough attention as is,” she taunts but she greets him nonetheless, with the same affection she had for you. 

“There is never enough,” he says, before he says something into her ear. Quietly and quickly. 

She nods and then she regards your knight, now solely left behind, waiting to accompany you. “Ser Benjicot Blackwood, I gather?”

He bows his head, looks at her through that tousled mop of hair of his. “Yes, your highness.” 

She laughs. “Goodness, such decorum. I am Cordelia here. My queenship leaves me within the walls of my home.”

Benji nods but he does not correct himself. It would be odd, you suppose. He doesn’t even call you by your first name, why would he do so with a Queen. 

Cordelia gives your side a nudge with her elbow. “Quite handsome,” she says, much to your dismay loud enough for him to hear. 

Your cheeks begin to burn. “He is sworn to protect me, sister.” 

She just shrugs, indifferent to your embarrassment as siblings tend to be and then steps along. 

“I do hope there won’t be a scene made over my arrival,” she calls over her shoulder, you and Tristan hurrying along. “The maester recommended I do not subject myself to much ruckus, at my old age.”

It would be slanderous to refer to your sister as old. Your brows pull together. “What do you mean? Are you ill?” 

She whirls around to face you, one hand clutching her belly. “You could say so.” 

Your jaw drops and Tristan recoils next to you. 

Her face drops a bit. “Well, at least pretend you are happy for me.” 

“But with your last-.” Her hand flies up, in hopes of silencing your brother. 

“I will not dwell on the past. My husband wishes for an heir, as any king, any noble man would and I can only pray that this one will be a boy.” 

The sweetness of her visit is immediately tainted, it itches on your tongue to utter something at the monstrous prospect of having to witness your sister bear more children for the King of Arbormere near torturous but you do not speak it. 

You clear your throat. “It is good news. And we are happy that more babes will come into the world carrying your kind nature, are we not?” 

You look at Tristan, whose face has drained of colour but he nods still. 

Such is the fate of noble women. Made to squeeze out heirs for their highborn husbands. 

And such will be your fate one day as well.

Cordelia presses her lips together and inhales deeply. “Yes, I shall stay in our kingdom until delivery. My king thought it might help for an easier birth.” 

The good in this gleams through and you find it in you to be joyful. “At the castle?”

She nods. “Yes, a few weeks and then I thought I might go north, to mother's home.”

You clasp your brother’s arm. “Might I go with her then?”

Benjicot shuffles. Sometimes you think he is trying to speak this way, as though encoded. 

“No. Father won’t allow it. There are no suitor’s to be met in the north.”

You roll your eyes. “There are no suitor’s to be met,” you mimic, voice squeaky and high. 

Behind you, you can hear Benjicot fail to stifle a laugh. 

Cordelia extends her hand toward you. “We have a few weeks together, don’t we?”

Not enough. Never enough. 

“That dress of yours is ridiculous,” she adds, but she says it fondly. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The atmosphere at the banquet is odd. You cannot quite place it, but your brother won’t cease his whispering with various members of the court. 

Cordelia, though you’ve spent the better half of the evening dancing, has now begun watching everything the way a predator may watch its next meal. She does not look happy. 

Though, your father is as reliable as always. King Alexander is doing a wonderful job as presenting himself as the drunken decadent rake he is known to be, though Lady Cathcart has been brazenly replaced with what you can only assume is a common whore. 

You feel bad for her, you cannot imagine that it must be fun to spend one’s days entertaining men, let alone men such as your father. 

Benjicot is excused from his services for the night at your father’s command, he had lingered in a corner of the room for a while but he disappeared a while ago. 

You are pining for a good moment to slip out of the room, Cordelia’s power to protect you from annoying princelings and highborns only going so far. 

Lord Whent, despite having stayed true to Marion’s promise of having great hair, had spent his time talking to you staring down your corset and otherwise seemed to like himself a bit too much. 

“Cordelia?” You whisper.

She does not look at you when she replies, eyes still trained on someone in the crowd. You cannot figure out who it is when you follow her eye line. “Yes?”

You get up. “I shall be right back.” 

She nods. 

You do not stop for the formalities of bidding goodbye or greeting anybody you pass, the doors close behind you and with one quick scan, you begin to run. Your foot is bleeding, warm liquid gathering and you curse the cobbler behind your pain. 

Your feet carry you deep into the basement of the castle, the scent of darkness and dampness strong in your nose and then you finally reach your chamber.

Marion’s fiance had helped you set it up over the course of the past few years.

Scandalous as can be, you reach into your cleavage where your key is hidden and swing the doors open. 

You must hurry. It is much more difficult to find your way out of the castle without your maid by your side to guide you and you cannot waste time. 

You are a flurry of red rushing around the room, collecting all the herbs you need. A jar bangs to the ground and you wince at the noise it makes, wince even more when you realise that the last of your melted bear fat now seeps into the dirty floors. 

“Bollocks,” you curse but you cannot do anything, except hope that there will be a hunt soon. Though Ser Rodrick would no longer be able to retrieve it. 

“What in the name of god is this?” A voice rings through the small room and you almost cause more distraction, just quick enough to stop yourself from screaming. 

Your knight stands in the door, looking at you both confused and enticed. 

You swallow thickly. “Uh.”

Words have blipped from your head, your mind suddenly a blank sheet of paper.

Benji walks in, looks around behind him and closes the door. “I can’t imagine that this is part of your royal duties.”

Surely, there are some words you could say now. Anything really, would do. Just anything to defend yourself. 

He snorts. “Not in the talking mood?” He looks around. 

Dried plants hang from the wall, a cauldron stands in the middle of the room, jars are filled with various concoctions.

Oh this looks horrible.

“I do not practise witchcraft,” you croak out. 

“Sure does not look like it, princess.”

You set down the ingredients clutched to your chest. “It is medicine.”

He picks up a small vial, admires the brown liquid in it. “For who?”

“Nobody. For fun.”

He doesn’t believe you. “It gets boring.”

“So you go after your hobbies after nightfall? During banquets?”

You nod and go to take the vial from him, but he is quicker, arm raising above you. “Does the king know? Your brother?”

A scowl etches onto your face, your arms crossed. It is quite annoying how tall he is. “I don’t believe it is proper to keep my belongings from me, Ser Benji.”

“Is it proper to brew potions in the dungeons?”

“Why would you follow me?”

He shrugs. “You looked quite distressed. And it seemed unnecessary to spend a moment longer with those highborn leeches.”

You raise your eyebrow, grasping for some sort of higher ground. “Not even the ladies?”

Benji chuckles, a low rumble. You are close enough to think you feel it. “Do not take it to heart, princess, but I do not care for those puppets who care for nothing but appearances.” 

You huff. “Only a man would make such rude assumptions.”

“And yet it is a man who has discovered your secret.” He tilts his head. “Now who are you making this stuff for? Your maiden?”

You attempt to jump for the vial but it is no use. “I do not trust you.” 

“Who would I tell? I do not wish to have your surveillance become more intense. It’s annoying as it is.” 

The broken blister hurts now, and you are glad the shoe is red, otherwise you’re certain it would have been ruined by now. Frustrated, you step back and sit down on the nearest chair, lean back, arms dropped at your side and legs stretched out. 

It is a question of luck, but you don���t think he would let these matters rest without plausible explanation. 

“There’s a family on the outskirts of the city. I met them on one of those horrible charity visits. They couldn’t afford to pay for these aids and so I took matters into my own hands. And then they told people that there is a way to help and it kept going.”

You meet his eyes and you are suddenly struck by their warm hue of green. 

A beat of silence passes. “So you are…a secret apothecary?”

You shrug. “Maybe not adept enough to call myself such. Sourcing knowledge about it is quite tiresome and tedious. And I must do it in secret. It is frowned upon for women, but even more so for a princess. And I do not wish to be accused of doing devil’s work.”

“Well, the dungeon isn’t doing much to alleviate that connotation,” he says. 

Is he joking? 

A small smile tugs at your lips. “I suppose so.” 

You draw in a breath. “Please do not speak of this with anyone.” 

He nods and gives the vial back to you. That one is for Marion, womanly matters. You are glad now, that you’ve never taken up to label the things in here.

“How do you get them to the people?”

“Ser Rodrick and Marion.” The lie comes to you quick and easy. It is only half a lie. 

You bend down and take off your shoe. Normally, you would not, but having exposed perhaps your most vulnerable secret, you do not see any reason to feign dignity and suffer for it. 

“I must finish this tonight. There’s a case of colic rushing through town.”

He is watchful, like your sister had been, but with much less disdain, as you go on with what you had started. 

Diligently you powder up anise and cumin and add it to the broth that you had let simmer over the last few days. You do not have cormorant blood at hand but alas one must make due with what they have sometimes.

You walk barefooted, careful to mind the shards and to your surprise, Benji begins gathering them, lips curled as he does. “What the fuck did you keep in that?”

You offer him a bemused hum. “Fat from a strong bear.”

“Has it been there since the dawn of time? Why does it smell so terrible?”

“Only since the last hunt. Four moons ago.”

He shudders and tosses the gathered glass into the fireplace. Remnants of its content sizzle in the heat. 

Silence befalls you again and he stands closer now, right next to you, as you begin to fill five separate flasks. 

“Should I take it to them then?”

A stray hair falls into your face, like a curtain between the two of you. “That would be wonderful.” 

You don’t like the idea. It is not a happy freedom you got by sneaking out of the castle to tend to the frail, but it was a taste of true freedom nonetheless. And you do not like giving out the medicine without clear instructions. 

But there is no choice for you to make. 

“The last chapel before the city walls, behind it you will find Theo. He will distribute it. Tell him they who receive it, must take three spoons in the morning with a bit of bread. And then the same again at night, until they feel better. And if they have some left even though they are healthy, they can keep it, in case the disease returns. There’s wine in it, it won’t turn bad.”

“As you command, princess.” 

You tuck your hair back. “If you wish, you can call me by my name.”

Benji steps back and leans against the wall. He ignores your offer. 

Too soon. Too friendly. 

“Take that satchel. We don’t need the court thinking you’re a drunkard as the king is.” With the nod of your chin you point to where it rests on a shelf. 

Something flits across his features, the shadow of something left unsaid but it is gone before you can place it. 

He takes it and slings it across his chest. You hand him your work and the tips of his finger brush across yours but this time it feels different.

You stand before him barefoot, vulnerable, your faith put into his ability to be true to his word. It makes your skin feel raw. 

If he recognises the delicacy of the situation, he does not show it. 

“I should accompany you to your chambers,” he says. And you want to protest, but you do not. Instead you lean forward, close enough to feel the rise and fall of his breaths and pull at the bookshelf behind him. It swings open and reveals a narrow staircase. 

His brow raises as he turns his head. “Impressive. Though I am less and less convinced that you are not a witch.”

“Do not make such jests,” you chastise, but you say it with warmth. 

taglist:

@dancingbaek

@jhepolie

@knight-of-flowerss

@majoso12

@rebeccawinters

@poppyflower-22

@nixtape-foryou

@accidentpronedork

@xlittlefiend

@vqmpyrecult

[heartsteel-heartbeats]

More dating Heartsteel Kayn HCs (Birthday + Halloween Edition! ft. Rhaast)

Brief mention of drinking, but doesn’t go into full detail.

(( Happy birthday to this silly guy!! 😚😚 )) ~ OBBY 💗

You’ve known Kayn’s birthday was on the 30th and not the 31st thanks to a certain K/DA member texting him at a very unfortunate time, but you did enjoy the idea of celebrating both days in general. Kayn, on the other hand, prefers the 31st because that is what he says his birthday is. It doesn’t hurt to just simply indulge him. If he wants his birthday on the 31st, who the hell are you to say? Don’t let that stop you from doing something fun on the 30th though. Try to take advantage of the fact he has a habit of staying up very late. As long as you two aren’t caught, perhaps you could get away with a thing or two. Maybe a little spray paint to liven up this boring alley right?

Kayn might catch on to what your intentions are and he will tease you about it and telling you his birthday is tomorrow, but he truly does appreciate what you’re doing. Any moment he can spare just to be with you is everything to him.

“Is this for my birthday? You know that’s tomorrow.” “Whattt? Of course I know that.” “This is for my birthday, isn’t it?” “Totally not.” “It’s totally for my birthday!” “It’s past midnight anyway! It’s your birthday right now!”

On the 31st, do expect Rhaast to make an appearance. In fact, it may or may not have been his idea for you to dress up like him. He thinks it’d look cool, and luckily for both of you, some people seemed to have the same idea to dress up as him. Of course, it’d be obvious to tell which one was the real Rhaast, but you? The media can just say you were just a “mysterious talented artist” who practically nailed the costume. At least they never got a picture of your face or even your name, and they’ll never know that you actually got help from the man himself.

Rhaast does eventually escape from the crowd just to go to you and drag you onto a rooftop to watch everyone else. Does he make fun of other people’s attempts to dress up as him? Absolutely.

“[name]! Look at that one over there!” “A for effort, at least.” “No, that’s too high! Bump it down to C tier.” “Hah! That’s a little harsh, don’t you think? Not even low B tier?” “Not at all!” “Oh come on, look at that one. That one’s not that bad, right?” “Ugh, more like cheaply made.”

Rhaast himself is pretty anti-paparazzi. Not in the “literally blinding in the camera” kind of anti-paparazzi, but rather the one that tends to scare them away quite literally. Popping out of nowhere with a loud “BOO!” and a boisterous laugh. Although in general, Rhaast is just really hard to get a good picture of if it’s not during a show. I mean have you seen him? Look at him go.

tbh he’d probably scare some kids too

Since we’re talking about Rhaast, let’s talk about your relationship with him. He loves you. In fact, he’s the one that pushed Kayn to approach you when he realized how Kayn felt about you. In a way, you could say this relationship is polyamorous. Rhaast still gets very jealous if he’s not let out to have time with you, though it’s not so different with Kayn. Both of them can get pretty jealous in general.

“You’re such a wimp! Just do it!!” “No..!” “Oh come on!! They’re perfect! You even thought it!” “Well-! Yes, I did! But-!” “They even love the way I work things! If you want them, you have to get them before someone else does! Have you seen how that other guy was looking at them earlier?!” “I am not doing it.” “What’s that saying? “The worst they can do is say no”? Just do it Kayn!!" “Ugh! Fine! Tomorrow." "Pussy."

Rhaast was Kayn's personal alarm that next morning. He wasn't going to let Kayn forget the plan. Let’s just say he was a bit of a mess when he finally came to you thanks to Rhaast, but when you said yes, he was ecstatic. Kayn struggled trying to keep a straight face when all he can hear is Rhaast yelling triumphantly. That was also the day you realized Rhaast wasn't just his "alter-ego," but rather a whole other person that only Kayn hears and lets out time to time. Well, you did like Kayn, and you did like "not simply an alter-ego" Rhaast, so it worked out.

He definitely tried scaring you a few times. Maybe he succeeded, maybe he didn’t, but he’s done a handful of things to you and others to try and get a reaction. Maybe you grew a resistance to it overtime and your reactions gradually changed.

Rhaast does let you snap some pretty cool photos of him which probably includes him doing dangerous stunts. Still, seeing him go do what he loves to do without anything to stop him was nice. That didn’t stop you from being worried if he’ll actually get hurt, though. He sometimes teases you on that. To be fair, he does this all the time and comes out unscathed.

Heading towards your next destination (which would be wherever they had agreed to celebrate his birthday) had to be done with the two of you doing in different routes so that attention wasn’t drawn to either of you, or to you specifically. Wouldn’t want too many speculations now, though it is fun to see the fans create their own thoughts on the matter. They were either entirely wrong, or they were so close to the truth. You were going to meet up again a few blocks from the location, and of course, he was there first waiting for you in a wall just to kind of surprise you. You were greeted by Kayn instead of Rhaast, and he lifts the mask on your face to give you a kiss.

“Hey there gorgeous~” “Hey yourself. Were you just standing in that wall the entire time?” “Guilty as charged. You’re so slow.” “Says the one who can walk in walls.” “Yeah, but you love it when I do it.”

Serves as good time to just walk and chat now that you’re away from the crowd. Most people, and kids, would be at home and maybe sleeping by now, so the streets are rather empty.

“Not that I’m complaining, but are you here because Rhaast is tired?” “If I let Rhaast drink to his heart’s content, none of us will be going home.” “Since when did that ever stop you?” “Yeah… But Yone won’t be letting me off the hook, so I’m unfortunately at a limit.” “And on your birthday. What a shame.”

Whether this is your first time meeting the rest of Heartsteel or not, it’s safe to say you get along with them fairly well. Ezreal wanted all the details, but gets cut off by Kayn who would pull you away from him. K’Sante and Alune are always fun to talk to, so if things get too rowdy, you can run to them and chat for a while.

You’ve spotted Aphelios taking pictures of some stuff happening, like how Kayn and Ezreal are still bickering which he’ll post somewhere later. He’ll probably go to you to show you some photos he took of the others a few days or weeks prior. There was even a photo of Aphelios and Kayn beating Sett with plushies and pillows (Ezreal took the photo). He’ll send it to you if you ask.

You know those little charms he has on his belt of Rhaast and his shadow assassin form? Your gift to him were matching charms of you and him. He wears the charm of you with so much pride, he loves it so much. You're even placed between the two he already had. No one would suspect a thing either if they see your little charm of Kayn. It's normal for people to have silly pins and charms of their favorite artist, and if anyone asks where you got it from, just say you made it yourself. It wasn't a lie after all.

It’s safe to say both Kayn and Rhaast had fun on their 48 hour birthday.

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Neither Gone Nor Forgotten

sequel to No Body to Bury. This isn’t edited, if you find any errors feel free to let me nice, just be nice about it.

------

Planning a funeral for Danny turned out both easier, and harder, then Batman had anticipated. Easier because he wasn’t deep in grief the way he had been when planning previous funerals, and harder because, well, the person the funeral was for was still around to have opinions. Not that Danny was hard to please, he seemed happy with just about everything, but he was struggling with whether he should tell his human family and friends. He really wanted to, but he was scared.

“I don’t think they’ll understand,” Danny said, his legs dangling over the edge of the tall building he and Batman were currently sitting on, holding a milkshake Bruce had bought for him. “Sam, Tucker, and Jazz all supported me while I was still only half dead and knew. I haven’t kept entirely out of the news since starting to work with you guys and I know they’re upset I abandoned them, I’ve seen it when I check on them. There’s no way they can understand how much changes when you die, I watch over them, but Ic an never go back.

“I can’t be what they want me to be, I’m not really Danny anymore at all, and they’d want me to be what I was. They’d want me to be human, and I’m just not anymore. I would want them to think I was completely dead and gone, but they’ve seen me in the news so there’s no chance of that.”

“Hm,” Batman said helpfully. “Write them a letter, I’ll make sure it’s delivered and then they can come on your terms, or not,” He suggested, he’d found writing letters to be a lot easier. “Like a will?”

Danny cocked his head to the side as he thought about that and then nodded slowly. “That’s a good idea, thanks Batman. You’re not nearly as bad at emotions as everyone says,” The young ghost said, bumping his shoulder against Bruce’s. It made the older hero smile. He wasn’t surprised to find that Phantom was gone when he turned back towards where the boy was sitting, his small smile remained as he threw out the abandoned milkshake and went on with his patrol.

It was two days later when the letter appeared on his desk, not yet folded or in an envelope which Bruce knew was permission to read it. He appreciated that because he would have had a hard time resisting the curiosity even if it was already sealed.

Dear Sam, Jazz, and Tucker

First of all, I want to say I’m sorry. I loved you all and I didn’t run away, I didn’t want to leave you. It was the GIW, remember when I said I was a ‘who’s who of who can’t catch ghosts’? I guess I underestimated at least one of them because they finally got me. Of course it was Phantom they were trying to kill, but is anyone surprised that they failed? It was Danny who they ended up killing, and now I can’t go back.

I didn’t realize what a big difference there would be between being half dead and all dead, a little humanity goes a long way I guess. Don’t worry I’m not going to become Dan, but I can’t be Danny anymore either, just Phantom left now and while I still love you and watch over you as I am, it’s not like I can just ‘live my life’ anymore. It hurts too much to try and pretend to be alive now, and ghosts are creatures of instinct, I can’t go against the natural order of life and death and come back to you, no matter how much I love you or how much you miss me.

Batman and some of the other heroes have offered to arrange a funeral for Danny, this time there’s actually a corpse to bury after all. I won’t be there, but it’s important for both the living and the dead that the dead have a grave, a place to grieve lost life. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to, if it’s too hard or you’re too mad at me still. But if you do come or ever visit I’ll feel you there and it’ll make me happy, and maybe it’ll be some closure for you? I never meant to hurt you.

I’ll still be around to protect you, I’ll protect everyone I can. That’s been my obsession since the start hasn’t it? And Jazz don’t you start, ghost’s obsessions are what keeps us here and in one piece, I don’t need therapy. And I guess that’s the heart of it isn’t it? I’m not human anymore, and I can’t pretend to be, and we wouldn’t understand each other anymore. Not really. Ghosts don’t change much though so I’ll always love you and when you die maybe we can be friends again, if you can forgive me for this.

Forever young and yours,

Phantom

 Batman read the letter and sat quietly with it for a few long minutes, thinking about it and also questioning some parts, like who Dan was. It was sad of course, but it was sweet too, and he didn’t think that Phantom’s friends would be nearly as upset with him as he thought they would be. Finally he sighed and folded it up, finding a envelope and address it to Danny’s sister since she seemed like the best one to make sure they were all there when it was opened and read. He put it in the folder to be sent out and then leaned against his desk.

“Are you really not going to come?” He asked the empty room, and after waiting for a moment wasn’t surprised when Danny stepped out from nowhere. He’d started to get a sense of when Phantom was there, untouchable and unseen.

“No, I’ll be there, but only the way spirits usually are. I won’t be there physically, just in spirit,” He said, smiling at his own pun. Batman chuckled a little and nodded.

“I understand why you don’t want them to know that, I won’t let on,” He assured. “I think you’ve done the right thing letting them know.”

Danny nodded and then vanished again, this time out through the window, properly leaving the office and Batman alone again.

Batman had the discussion with the rest of the Justice League without Phantom present so they could avoid accidental offense. Not everyone would come, not everyone could come, Batman banned a few of the more literal heroes who would not understand why they were having a funeral when Phantom was still here, even though he had actually died. But a decent amount did come, and Batman had a feeling that the ones Phantom would care about most was Bruce himself, and Diana, who was coming.

-----

When the day of the funeral came Batman and Diana stood outside the little chapel to welcome people. They weren’t technically family of course, apparently Diana was distantly through an ancestor of hers and adoption, and Bruce thought of himself as a paternal figure to Danny, besides they’d been here early setting everything up. The nice coffin was already at the front of the room, closed since it was empty with while lilies placed on top and decorating the little building along with some roses and candles.

He wasn’t particularly surprised when the first person who showed up was Danny’s big sister Jasmine Fenton driving Danny’s two friends. His parents weren’t there but Phantom had mentioned it might not be a good idea for them to come because they would probably be disruptive. Both Jazz and Tucker’s eyes were rimmed red like they’d been crying and Sam’s jaw had a stubborn set to it like clenching it was the only thing keeping her lips from trembling.

They reached the steps, Batman nodded to them and Diana gave them a sad smile. Jazz looked through the open doors, her breath hitching. “Is he in there?” She asked, pointing to the coffin.

Batman shook his head, voice soft and rough as he responded. “Phantom said he’d bring the body later, Less chance for something to go wrong and… I don’t know if it would hurt him, but I think it’s easy to see why he’d be protective of it.”

Jazz’s lip trembled and she took a deep breath, behind her Sam had wrapped an arm around Tucker who had started to cry again, turning to hide against her shoulder. “When you see him again tell him we’re not mad at him, please?” Sam said, her voice hard with repressed emotions, it almost sounded angry but there was a subtle difference.

“He’s right that we can’t understand everything,” Jazz said, biting her lip for a moment before continuing. “But after something like this he needs space, and we won’t rush him. If he needs to start a new life, we get it, everything must remind him of trauma right now, but if he ever wants to get back in touch with us. Well, I’ll love him forever too. But also tell him that he should have been more careful in that letter he wrote if any of us had been feeling suicidal his comment about being friends again after death might have been the last push we needed over the metaphorical edge-”

She was taking a deep breath to continue her lecture when Sam wrapped her other arm around Jazz’ shoulder and pulled her away. “Well we’re not, it’s fine, let’s go sit down before Tucker collapses from dehydration from all these tears.”

“I’m not going to collapse! I’m not even crying that much!” Tucker insisted, his voice audibly wet.

Batman and Diane kept their faces straight while Sam dragged them all into the little building and to seats in the front row. Then Batman’s lips twitched up in a slight smile and Diana gave a weak laugh. “I knew they wouldn’t be as angry with Phantom as he feared,” Batman said, trying to keep his amusement under control.

“What a precocious girl, a big sister through and through,” Diana agreed and sniffled a little, it seemed their grief had gotten to her a little. He understood.

Slowly more people filtered in, just other heroes now, and one young woman called Val. Sam said to let her in even though there was clearly tension there, the heroes didn’t ask.

The scheduled time of the funeral Diana and Batman went inside, closing the door after them and, since Danny hadn’t wanted a priest so Batman started to make his way to the front to start things off.

“We’re here today in remembrance of Danny Phantom, a brave young man lost to soon in the line of duty. He never should have had to join the fight so young,” Batman stumbled a little when he saw Jason slip in at the back of the chapel. He had sort of though Jason wasn’t coming, but there he was, dressed in his Red Hood get up, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Batman could tell that he was on edge, but he was here, and it would make Danny happy. He took a deep breath and carried on with his planned remarks.

When he was done he stepped down off the little podium and Jazz stepped up, pulling some queue cards out of her pocket, taking a deep breath and launching into a planned speech. She was a good public speaker, she managed to keep it together through her speech but her words were clearly very heartfelt.

It went well, a few more people spoke, by the end Batman was actually having a hard time keeping his feeling under control, he maybe should have came as Bruce Wayne so he could have cried. He kept it under control though and eventually it was time to bring the coffin out to the prepared grave. They hadn’t fully planned who would carry it because they hadn’t known if Danny’s friends and sister were going to come, but now that they were here of course they were invited to help carry the coffin.

Batman and Diana took the majority of the weight of course, but all three of them took the offer to help carry the coffin the prepared grave. They lowered it in and Superman placed the specially made vault over top that would protect Danny’s body from, well, the usual stuff super heroes had to deal with, bodies being stolen for experimentation, attempted cloning’s, resurrection but wrong, all that jazz.

Jasmin through in the first handful of dirt, then Sam, then Tucker and then the heroes joined in. When the grave started to be filled properly a lot of the heroes started to wander away, Batman approached Jason who was hanging back.

“Please stay,” He murmured to his estranged son, seeing Jason’s shoulders tense, his arms were still crossed defensively. “Phantom will be bringing his body one most of the people clear out and he’d really like to meet you. If you don’t mind, he just died, and it’s been hard on him, I think meeting you would be a comfort.” He watched with bated breath as Jason’s fingers twitched and tightened on his own arms before he nodded. Bruce breathed a subtle sigh of relief and nodded, turning back towards the grave.

Once the grave was filled and basically everyone else had either left or gone back to the little chapel to socialize, Danny finally arrived. He faded into view, seemingly almost shy, watching them both closely for their reaction. Bruce understood why, he had to carefully school his expression when he saw the state that Danny’s body was in. It wasn’t that he was dead obviously, ashen and limp, passed the stage of rigger it seemed, it was the visible injuries. He was littered with cuts and bruises, there were stull cuffs around his ankles and wrists which had clearly burned into his skin. The wound that had killed him was, well, it looked like an autopsy had been done, his chest was fully open, but Batman knew it had been done while he was still alive. It was horrific.

Batman managed to keep himself under control though his breathing sped up, Hood’s mask completely hid his face but he rocked back like he’d been struck. Danny hesitated, licked his lips a little and stepped forward.

“I can’t touch the cuffs, but I don’t want too bury him with them still on. Will you take them off for me? They shouldn’t burn you,” Danny asked Bruce.

He was about to say yes when Jason cut in, “I’m better at picking locks then him, I’ll do it.” He practically growled, stalking forward and pulling his lock picking kit out of one of the pockets on his suit. “Who did this to him,- You?” He asked softly as Danny knelt, cradling his own corps close to his chest, letting Jason kneel in front of him and take one of the limp arms to start on the cuffs. Jason hissed when he touched it, it burned a little but he breathed through it and started to pick the lock.

“It was the GIW, the ghost investigation ward. I killed the ones who did it, and the justice league helped me disband the rest of the organization and overturn the laws that enabled it,” Danny responded, his green eyes locked unblinkingly on Jason, watching him as he watched Jason work on the locks.

“Good, I’m glad their dead. That must have felt good,” He chuckled vindictively.

“I am too, but I’m more glad they won’t get to hurt anyone else. They might have gone for you if they were still able.”

“Me? Why?” Jason asked, his fingers twitching, he cursed softly when the lock pick slipped, he grumbled and started again.

“Because you died before didn’t you? The cuffs burn you because you’re not… completely alive anymore I won’t ask anything about it, I know that’s private but if you ever want to talk about it, or if you need help with the… side affects, I’d be happy to help you,” Phantom offered softly. Jason only hummed in response, he needed to process and consider that.

When the final cuff fell to the ground Danny took a deep breath and curled around himself, resting his forehead against his body’s hair. From the way his shoulders were shaking they could tell he was crying, Jason rested a hand on Danny’s shoulder, just being there for him until Phantom was ready and finally sunk into the ground. He was down there for a long time before he surfaced again, flying over to hug batman, burrowing against his chest a little while Batman patted his back gently, Jason standing by awkwardly.

“Thank you so much for doing this, and thank you both so much for coming. This really means so much to me.”

“Of course kid,” Jason said, reaching out to ruffle the boy’s soft white hair.

Batman nodded, giving Danny a gentle squeeze, “No one deserves to be forgotten.”

Tag list: @kikkobara @phlebocuffs @spikethecrazycat @spookytragedyshark @thatonegaybitch68 @stargazer-luna @fangirlnerd001 @seraphinedemort @yjfk @rosieparker1856 @battlebunnyteardropsinthesun and thank you too @your-local-idiot-savant for giving me feedback on some parts