#Oh Sister Do You Hear My Pain ?

[eevvvaa]

Oh Sister, Do You Feel My Pain ?

Summary : After weeks free of hunts and monsters, Dean is starting to be bored to death. So when his brother told him about Adriana Baker’s death, he jumped on the occasion, ready to discover Sacred Heart, Minnesota and the mourning sister there, Metra.

Characters : Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Metra Baker (OC), Marcus (OC), Zoey Martin (OC)

Words : 16 776

Warning : Death, angst, a little bit of fluff and language.

A/N : This is my slightly late participation to @avanatural​‘s 1000 followers celebration (I promise, I will be on time for the next one 🙈). Congratulations my friend !! 🥳1000 is an incredible amount of followers and I’m so happy for you, you deserve all the followers in the world because you’re an amazing writer and deserve all the love and visibility ! Be proud of yourself ! 💕

My prompt was :  “Are you gonna bark all day, little doggy, or are you gonna bite?” and my song was Poison by Alice Cooper (the lyrics used are in italic). I loved the edition you decided to do and it was a real challenge for me ! I hope you’ll like it ! 😘💕

Dividers by the talented @firefly-graphics​

Masterlist

“Ugh, please tell me you’ve got something.” Dean complained as he walked into the magnificent library of their Bunker, two beers in his hands : one for him and the other for his brother.

Sam chuckled at the sight of his older brother slumping onto a chair in front of him and letting a long, dramatic sigh of annoyance out. The older hunter was bored, impatient of going back on a case after almost two weeks of radio silence from the monsters, no call from Jody or even Garth for help, not even Castiel needed help on the Heaven situation he was facing. It was as though monsters had stopped killing people just to annoy him : it was working.

Putting the bottles on the table, Dean pushed one towards Sam and the tall man grabbed it, placing it next to his laptop without bringing it to his lips for a sip. Dean, on the other hand, took a large gulp while putting his cleaned boots on the wooden table. He had been so bored lately that he had even taken the time to clean his shoes from all the dried dirt and blood on them. Sam on the other hand had spent hours sitting in the library, relentlessly trying to find a case worth their time, the desire to go save people and hunt things growing in him as quietness from the monsters increased.

Luckily for the green-eyed hunter, his focused and sleepless brother may have found a possible case for them.

“Well, it may be not a case bu-” Sam started, straightening as he began to explain to his brother but Dean quickly interrupted him.

“Oh it will be.” He declared, eager to jump on the first case available. Sam let a soft scoff out before clearing his throat and continuing, hoping that his brother wouldn’t interrupt him again. He hated when he did.

“As I was saying, it may not be a case per se but a woman, Adriana Baker, was found dead in her apartment. According to the police report, she was ‘chocked to death and had her eyes and tongue removed’. She was living with her younger sister, Metra, she was the one finding her body.” Sam explained and seemed to have picked the older man’s attention as he straightened, attentively listening to what his brother had to say. “So, either it was a brutal homicide…” Sam continued, raising his eyes from the screen to look at his brother.

“Or it’s a case for us.” Dean finished his sentence and Sam nodded, letting him know that it was what he was thinking.

“Yeah.” Sam breathed out, resting his back against the chair again and bringing his beer bottle to his lips.

“Where did you say it happened again?” Dean asked and the taller hunter held himself back from replying that he actually hadn’t mentioned the town where the girl was killed. Once the urge of correcting his brother was gone, Sam answered his question.

“Sacred heart, Minnesota.”

“Well.” Dean started, putting his feet back on the floor. “Minnesota it is.” He declared, rising up from the chair and heading to his room to pack his bag.

Sam looked one last time at the police record before closing his laptop and imitating his brother’s action, going to his own bedroom to get his belongings.

“He shouldn’t have written ‘removed’ those eyes were like completely turned into dust.” Dean declared, playing with the button of the jacket of his suit and slightly enjoying the light wind of June as he walked to the Impala and away from the police station.

Walking next to his brother, Sam slightly nodded, thinking about the body they had just examined. Indeed, Adriana’s eyes hadn’t been cut off, no blood remained on her empty orbits, contrary to her tongue that had been brutally ripped off and had left her mouth full of blood.

Once they reached the car, the brothers leaned against the vehicle, watching each other from each side of the car.

“Do you think it could be a rogue angel or something?” Sam asked, doubting his own theory. Dean shrugged at the question before shaking his head, disagreeing with the idea.

“Nah, they weren’t properly burnt, they looked more…” The older hunter started, looking for a way to describe what had happened to the poor woman’s eyes.

“Disintegrated?” Sam tried even though he was pretty sure it was the right word to characterize what they had seen. Dean snapped his fingers and pointed at him, showing him that it was indeed what had probably happened. Sam let a little smile reach his lips, happy to be right.

Entering the black car, the two brothers took their respective places, Dean not turning the engine on yet, playing with the keys a little.

“So, what are we going with? A witch?” Dean asked, raising his eyebrows, and Sam took a second to think about it. It could be. They were no signs of actual struggles, not even traces of hands or cord strangling her. It was as though she had just choked on air, her throat tightening on their own and preventing her from inhaling oxygen. A hex bag could do that, just like it could make her eyes turn into dust. The only thing out of place was the tongue. The brutality used to remove it required a person, a spell couldn’t do that, someone had had to rip it off, not even cutting it out.

“Maybe. We should go talk to the sister, maybe she saw or heard something she didn’t want to mention to the police. I’ll take a look around the house, see if there is any hex bag around.” Sam told his brother who immediately nodded and turned on the engine, driving away from the police station and to the victim’s place.

The ride to Adriana’s house was short, the town being a small one, everyone and everything was close to one another. So even though her home was on the other side of the town, the brothers arrived in thirteen minutes. It was true that the older Winchester had a tendency to exceed the speed limits but even if he had respected them, they wouldn’t have taken more than twenty to get there.

Parking in front of the small, white house, Dean took his fake badge out of his internal pocket and checked it, making sure he was going to say the right name when he would introduce himself. Turning off the car, he put back the badge in his jacket as his brother was already looking at the front door, taking a second to analyse the front of the house and the flowers and grass in the alley to it. He frowned for a second when he noticed the dead flowers, as though they were completely dehydrated when they were supposed to be flourishing. The grass was a tern yellow, leaning towards brown, when it was supposed to be a bright green. It had rained in the area and even if it was early summer, nature wasn’t supposed to be dead or burnt yet.

“Dean?” Sam called, making his brother turn his head towards him.

“Yeah?” The older man raised his eyebrows in questioning and looked at his brother whose face was turned towards the house. Dean wondered why he had called him until Sam pointed to the dying nature with his head.

“Look at the flowers.” Sam simply said and Dean narrowed his green eyes, observing the desiccated blossoms. When he realized they were abnormally dead, the hunter raised his eyebrows and hummed.

“Well, that’s weird. Last time we saw that, it was with the crazy witch-couple, remember? The dead flowers in front of the husband’s statue?” Dean said and his little brother nodded, remembering this case too.

“Yeah. Maybe we are dealing with a witch, then.” Sam said, glancing at his big brother who was now staring at the house.

“Let’s find out.” Dean exclaimed, wiggling a single time his eyebrows and exiting his beloved car, closing the driver’s door behind him.

Sam and Dean headed to the quiet house in front of them, no neighbors outside of the houses nearby, silence surrounding them except for the light breeze of fresh, warm air landing on their faces and making Sam’s hair float a little. With a few large steps, the two tall men reached the front door, Dean raised his hand and knocked on it, waiting a few seconds until a medium-sized woman opened the door. A bit of curiosity and carefulness in her deep brown orbs, she eyed the hunters, wondering who those men were and what they were doing at her house.

“Hi, I’m Agent Buxton, this is Agent Dunaway, FBI.” Dean introduced his brother and he, showing their badges to the brown-haired girl in front of them, some reddish highlights in them. “We wanted to ask you a few questions about your sister and what happened.” He continued, refocusing on the reason for their visits instead of the beautiful woman in front of him.

“Oh.” She quietly said, a sadness veiling her brown eyes at the simple mention of her sister throwing her back in grief.

“May we come in?” Sam asked, trying to be as polite and as empathetic to establish some kind of trusting link with the witness.

“Sure.” She nodded and moved away, opening the door so the fake FBI agents could enter her home. They offered her a quick smile and got in the house.

Taking a few steps ahead of them, the brothers looked around, spotting a few pictures of the sisters in frames resting on a chest of drawers in the hall and on the walls. Turning their heads, they saw a tidy library in the living room on their left, an open book resting on the couch. In front of them was a stair leading to the bedrooms and restroom. Everything was quiet and neat, the brothers didn’t know it but Metra had spent hours cleaning and tidying everything in the house to focus her mind on anything else but the death of her sister.

“I was making coffee, would you like some?” Metra offered and Dean quickly nodded, appreciating the offer.

“With pleasure.” He answered and the woman led them to the kitchen on the right. Placing herself behind the counter where the coffee maker was, she put herself on her tiptoes and took three cups in a closet behind her. Then, turning around, she placed them on the counter and filled them with hot coffee, handing two of them to the agents on the other side of it.

“Thanks.” The older one said while Sam simply smiled in appreciation, taking the cup without bringing it to his lips.

“Please, take a seat.” The brown-haired woman gestured to the table behind them, following her own advice and sitting on one of the chairs. The brothers followed her lead and sat at the table too, observing the woman focused on the steam leaving her cup of coffee.

“Miss Baker, we’re sorry for your loss.” Sam started and she nodded, closing her eyes in pain and sorrow.

“Thank you…” She whispered as an answer and Dean offered her a compassionate smile when he heard her slightly broken voice.

“Miss Baker,” Dean started and she raised her head, her brown eyes finding his green ones, a piece of her hair falling from behind her ear.

“Please, call me Metra.” She asked and he nodded, letting a little smile reach his lips before refocusing on his question.

“Metra. Did you witness any strange behavior in your sister on the day she died?” He asked, feeling sorry for the woman in front of him as she winced.

Dean didn’t know any other way to ask this, even after years of hunting, confronting the witnesses to the recent deaths of their loved ones wasn't something easy to do. But once the pain of the words slightly passed, Metra took a breath and shook her head at him, ready to answer.

“Excuse me.” She tried to say, lightly sniffing as the tears slowly started to stop.

“Hum, no, no. She was normal, smiling and joyful. She was always so joyful…” She whispered the end of her sentence, some tears reaching her sad eyes. She tried to keep the tears at bay as long as possible but the more the minutes passed, the harder it was to keep her emotions hidden.

Letting a hiccup of grief escape, she quickly brought her hand to her mouth, trying to cover the sounds.

Looking to his right, Dean spotted a box of tissues next to his brother and with a movement of his head, he made Sam understand to give him one. The tall man grabbed a tissue and handed it to his brother who quickly took it and offered it to the mourning woman.

“Here.” Dean caught her attention and she rapidly accepted it, welcoming his warm smile.

“Thank you.” She said, using the tissue and taking a deep breath to regain her composure.

“Did your sister have any enemies? Has she been in conflict with someone recently?” Sam took over the interrogations, hoping that the woman could give them any kind of hints on who could have done this to Adriana.

Shrugging, Metra wrapped her hands around the warm cup of coffee.

“Hum, no, not really.” She started, shaking her head before stopping herself. “Well… she was always a bit in competition with Zoey. Actually, Zoey was the one wanting to compete with my sister. She’s always been jealous of her but Adriana never really thought too much about it, she wasn’t one to bother arguing over a better grade or boys.” Metra explained, a little lost in thoughts as she recalled the many arguments Zoey had tried to have with her sister. She envied her sister’s success so much that she would rather get into a fight with her than try to achieve something on her own.

“And Zoey is…” Dean started, not finishing his sentence so she could explain to them who Zoey was.

“Oh, she is a girl in town. Adriana and her went to the same school. It’s a small town, everyone knows each other here.” She explained and the boys nodded.

“Did Zoey’s jealousy ever lead to an actual confrontation? Maybe in the last few days?” Sam tried and Metra’s eyes quickly looked to the right, searching in her mind and suddenly remembering something, she nodded.

“Miss Baker, can I take a look in your sister’s room? This is where you found her, right?” He asked even if he knew for sure that it was. He had read the police report enough time to even be aware of the position she was found in, the pictures of her dead body printed in his brain.

“Yeah, three days ago, Adriana came back upset from work. She said something about a girl having to put an end to all this childishness. She didn’t say much or her name but now that I think about it, it’s possible that she was talking about Zoey.” Metra explained and the brothers nodded, both of them making a mental note to talk to this Zoey later.

Clearing his throat, Sam brought the attention back to him and slightly pushed his chair, ready to get up.

Metra’s eyebrows furrowed for a second at the request.

“Hum, I’m sorry to ask you this but, why? The police already searched her room and took most of her stuff.” The woman asked and Sam rapidly, quicker than a second, clenched his jaws.

He never liked when witnessed and victims questioned his or his brother’s actions. It was already bad enough that they were impersonating federal agents, so he always tried as much as he could to avoid questioning of this type. But he also understood those people not wanting to go through another interrogation, another police research.

Offering her a light smile, Sam answered her query.

“I know, but I just wanna take a look around. See if I can find something they’ve missed. It's a routine procedure.” He explained and she nodded. They were the professionals after all. Who was she to question their methods?

“Sure. Hum, it’s upstairs. First door on your left. Do you mind if I don’t…” She didn’t know how to finish her sentence. It had been difficult for her to even pass in front of her sister’s door for the past few days, she had even considered staying in a motel room for a few days, so she didn’t feel like escorting the agent to her sister’s crime scene.

Sam understood what she meant and quickly nodded, raising a calm hand, a gesture to let her know to stay seated.

“Of course.” He declared before leaving the kitchen, not without sending a quick glance to his brother who was going to stay and keep company with their host, using this time to ask her more questions.

Walking upstairs, Sam observed the house, looking at the pictures on the walls. Each one of them contained the two sisters, sometimes what looked like their friends joined them in their poses and one time, what could be a boyfriend was kissing Adriana’s cheek. He made a note to ask Metra about who he was. If it was a witch, everyone could be a suspect. But for now, he wasn’t even sure that it was this kind of supernatural being.

Turning on the left, Sam opened the first door and found himself in a large room. Not much furniture was in the victim’s bedroom, a bed, a desk, a large wardrobe and an old stereo system. Taking a few steps inside and closing the door behind him, he took a quick look at the equipment and thought to himself that better and newer ones existed now, but it wasn’t the reason why he was there.

So, he started to examine the room, looking for anything the police hadn’t noticed, something that could prove it was their kind of thing, any clue on what monster they were dealing with.

Walking to the window, the hunter checked the edge of it to see if sulfur remained on it, the idea of a demon killing the poor girl not leaving his mind. But nothing was there, not even a scratch which showed no breaking and entering. Even if the police report had said so, he wanted to check by himself. Then, Sam looked at her desk, not many notebooks remained on it and after quickly browsing through them, he put them back on it, turning to the wardrobe. Pushing some dresses and blouses on hangers aside, he decided to take a look in her drawers. Not that he was going to find pleasure in it like his brother could have, but because this place – along with under her mattress – could be a nice one to hide a hex bag. And, pushing his hand between socks, he felt something harder, familiar, that he quickly grabbed and got out of the drawer. A little purple bundle with a pentagram embroidered on it appeared in his palm as he opened his fingers.

Letting a little proud sound out at the discovery, Sam opened the hex bag and took a tiny cat bone out of it. Removing a piece made it safer for him to carry it without fearing a curse to be put on him too. Then putting the now disarmed hex bag in his pocket, he walked back to the stairs, ready to join his brother.

Once he reached the kitchen again, Sam saw his brother holding the girl’s hand, his eyes empathetic, trying to show comfort. Sam couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the scene, his big brother had shown kindness and brought comfort to witnesses and victims before, and many of them had thanked him in a way he deeply enjoyed. He knew that his brother was sincere in his reassuring words but Dean would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy women giving him a thank-you-my-hero kiss.

Entering the kitchen, Sam slightly cleared his throat and Dean straightened, his hand leaving Metra’s. Turning around, the older Winchester communicated with his eyes to his brother who let him know that he had found something. Dean gave him an almost imperceptible nod and turned back to Metra.

“Thank you for your time, we’ll get back to you if we find anything.” Dean declared, a small smile on his face.

Metra nodded and rose from her chair, ready to accompany the agents to the door. Sam was the first one to walk to it and Dean stayed by Metra’s side, waiting for the perfect moment to talk to her one last time.

Opening the door to them, Sam exited the house and Dean turned towards her, his right hand searching his suit pocket and pulling a card out of it. He handed it to the woman and she lightly frowned.

“You’re welcome.” The older brother answered with a smile and turned around when she started to close the door.

“Here. If you remember anything, whether you think it’s important or not, or if you need anything, call us.” He declared and Metra gave him a tight smile, taking the card in her hands and observing it for a moment. When she raised her head to look at them again, Dean was offering her a bright white smile.

“Thank you, Agent.” She answered, putting the card in her back pocket.

Going down the stairs together, Sam rolled his eyes again in annoyance at his brother’s flirtation on the job and walked to the car. Placing his arms on top of the Impala, Sam started to talk as Dean walked around the black car to reach the driver side.

“I think we’re dealing with a witch.” He declared, searching his suit-pants pocket and pulling the hex bag out of it, throwing it to his brother who caught it in flight.

Observing the little object for a second, Dean nodded, leaning against his car.

“So, you think this Zoey girl is going all Hocus Pocus at night?” Dean asked his brother who shrugged, giving him a silent ‘maybe’.

“Alright, let’s go talk to her then.” He declared, opening the driver’s door and already starting the engine as his brother joined him.

Stepping out of Zoey Martin’s house, the brothers were still a bit suspicious but unsure of her being a supernatural creature. Only one thing was sure: she was just a bitch.

They had walked into her home with the suspicion of her being a witch. The nature around her house, parched from two blocks around, had been interpreted as a side-effect of her black magic. But when they had arrived at her place, they had seen her desperately trying to water her withered roses to bring them back to life. A witch would have used magic to do that or not even cared about her flowers being dead.

This first impression made them doubt.

But it didn’t stop the Winchester from looking for anything witchy in her house or behavior and after arguing with her about them having the right – a right they clearly didn’t have – to ask her questions, they finally got into her house. Her suspicions about the hunters and her lack of cooperation on this fake investigation at first, both annoyed them and made it more difficult for them to look for any clues on her nature or the crime she had potentially committed. But eventually, Dean turned on his ‘famous’ charm and she fell right into this fly-trap, touching her hair as he told her how important her statement was going to be for them – for him. This distraction allowed Sam to sneak around her house, looking for anything suspicious that could tell them she was behind all this. But all the younger brother found was some pictures of herself hanging on the walls, dozens of different nail polishes and shoes. This girl was way too concerned about her self-image to be killing kittens with her bare hands or opening her wrist to cast spells with her own blood.

But, even if the way she behaved lowered the suspicions about her, the way Zoey was talking about Adriana made them twitch. Even if, maybe, she hadn’t killed the poor girl, she clearly wasn’t sorry about her death either. As she had so kindly declared, ‘this girl was always in the way, it was only a matter of time before someone did what everyone was thinking’. And after making her understand that it wasn’t a heated argument that happened but an actual murder, Zoey had shrugged, telling the brothers that no matter what had happened, it wasn’t any of her concern.

It was at that very moment that Sam was too annoyed with her to stay on that couch anymore and pretended to need to use her bathroom. A request she had nodded to, too lost in the green eyes of the hunter by her side. And when they explained they had to leave, Zoey asked for a number to call them if she ever thought about anything and Dean politely told her that it wouldn’t be necessary, leaving her on the porch while Sam let out a chuckle on the way to the car.

Inside the Impala, Dean sighed loudly in annoyance and frustration and Sam raised his eyebrows, joining his brother about this feeling.

“So, anything even a little bit witchy?” Dean asked, hopeful about having a positive answer from his brother but when Sam immediately shook his head, he sighed again.

“Nope, only girly things. I don’t think she killed her but considering how much she actually revealed about Adriana without caring, maybe someone used her for information or something.” Sam supposed, already thinking about new suspects and answers to their case.

Dean shrugged for a moment, considering his brother's theory and nodded.

“Metra, huh?” A little, mocking smile on the face, he teased his brother.

“Yeah, maybe. Metra said that her sister’s boyfriend was a bit distant lately. Maybe he got tired of her, was wondering about a way to end things with her and decided that murder was a good way to end a relationship. And lovely Zoey over there was willing to bitch about her all day long.” Dean interpreted, earning a little snort from his brother at his sudden theory.

It could be a possibility and at the beginning of a case, they were willing to listen to any theories. So, face-shrugged for a short second, not disapproving but not completely agreeing either. And turning to his brother, his eyebrows slightly raised.

“Shut up.” Dean only answered, turning on the engine and driving to their motel.

“So what do you think, the boyfriend is a witch and put a killing spell on her girl?” Dean asked his brother, pulling his jacket off and throwing it on the nearest bed.

Sam shrugged, his rolled up sleeves arms resting on his laptop. The killer-boyfriend theory wasn’t unbelievable but the police had interrogated him and his alibi had been confirmed. And even though if he was actually a witch he could use his ability in his favor, something was off with this theory. And therefore, Sam wanted to have more than one lead on this case.

“I don’t know, the police questioned and his alibi seems to fit. But something is bothering me about this murder.” Sam started, narrowing his eyes in reflection.

“Maybe the fact that it’s a murder?” Dean declared, crouching down in front of the mini bar to grab a beer for him and his brother. Sam rolled his eyes at his brother’s comment and continued in his thinking.

“We noticed the dying nature in front of Adriana's place, which makes sense with her being the victim but Zoey’s roses were withered too. So either she’s the next victim or something else is going on in this town. I don’t know if you noticed but the whole town isn’t as flowery as it should be for this time of the year.” Sam explained while Dean took place in front of him, resting his Oxford shoes on the table.

“Well, unlike you I don’t really pay attention to the daisies in a town, Sammy.” Dean mocked his brother, causing him to roll his eyes in annoyance.

“Be serious for a second, I’m telling you something is wrong in this town.” Sam pushed, starting to be irritated by his brother’s behavior and lack of interest in this case.

“I am. And I’m telling you this is a freaking witch. You found a hex bag, remember?” Dean replied, slightly raising his palms towards the sky. He didn’t get why his brother was looking for another lead when the one they had hadn’t even been fully explored. This case was supposed to be easy, they confronted the witch, AKA the ex-boyfriend, killed the guy and saved the girl, hopefully Metra. Dean was starting to be pretty fond of the brown-haired girl and he hoped that once they had solved the case, he could be the one to announce the great news to her.

“Yes, but I’m telling you something is of-” Sam started to argue with his brother but Dean’s phone suddenly rang, interrupting him. Dean raised a hand, making him understand to shut up and Sam clenched his jaw at the way he was completely ignoring him and what he was saying, preferring to answer his call.

The older man straightened, putting his feet on the floor and answered his phone.

“Hello?” He started, slightly frowning as he wondered who was calling him. But soon, a voice he recognized talked on the other side of the phone.

“Agent Buxton? I think someone is in my house.” Metra quickly said, fear and worry in her voice. Dean immediately straightened, his attention fully focused on the girl that was talking to him.

“Alright, lock yourself in your bedroom or your bathroom, any room with a window you can escape by. We’re on our way.” Dean instructed her and Sam stared at his brother, trying to understand who he was talking to but before he could even ask, Dean got up and reached for his jacket, quickly putting it on.

“Please, hurry… I’m scared…” Metra whispered on the other side of the phone and Dean’s heart broke for a second, hating when people were scared and he couldn’t immediately protect and reassure them.

“Listen to me, I’m on my way, okay? Lock yourself and if you think you can leave your house without danger, do it. You’re gonna be okay.” He stated, seriousness making his voice a little deeper than usual.

“Okay… Please, hurry up…” The girl quietly said and the call ended.

Turning to his brother, Sam was already staring at him, putting his own jacket back on.

“Metra’s in danger, someone broke into her house.” Dean quickly explained, grabbing his gun on the table and heading to the motel room’s door, his little brother behind him.

The brothers hurried to the black Impala and the second the doors were closed, Dean started the engine, speeding out of the parking lot of the motel and towards Metra’s place. Concentrated and serious, Dean quickly drove to her house while Sam searched the duffel bag on his lap. After a few seconds, he pulled a wooden box out of it and opened it, taking the bullets in his hands and started to load his and his brother’s gun.

“Witch killing bullets.” Sam informed his brother who only nodded, approving his choice and stepped on the gas.

Soon, the brothers arrived at the victim’s house and jumped out of the car, running to the slightly opened front door. Dean was the first one to carefully enter the house, looking around him for any signs of the girl who had called him or the intruder. But, his gun raised before him, he didn’t see anyone and when he felt his brother behind him, he slightly turned his head to look at him, jutting his chin towards the kitchen and letting him know he would look around the living room. But as he was about to enter the room on his left, a scream echoed upstairs and the older brother rushed to the floor without even thinking.

Sam followed him, ready to shoot at any danger appearing while Dean tracked the sound and turned right when Metra screamed more loudly. His heartbeat fastened as he ran to the girl’s bedroom and when he entered the room, slamming the door wide open, he raised his gun ready to aim and shoot at the supernatural creature hurting the poor girl. But the hunter froze when he saw no one around except Metra, pressed against a wall, wrapped in a glowing white mist preventing her from moving and, soon, from breathing. For a second, Dean didn’t know what to do, unable to shoot at the fog surrounding her without hurting Metra.

It was easier when the threat was concrete, physical. If you could touch it, you could kill it.

Metra gasped for air, trying to free herself and her throat, desperately trying to have the oxygen filling her lungs. And when she opened her eyes, her brown orbs met the green ones of the hunter and he regained control of his own body when he saw the fear in her eyes. Slightly turning his head, he saw Sam behind him, focused on the trap girl too and looking for a way to free her.

“Sam, hex bag!” Dean shouted and turned towards the girl again. “Hold on, Metra, we’re gonna free you!” He declared, not leaving a hint of doubt in his strong voice.

Quickly, the brothers searched the woman’s room, Sam opened the drawers of her desk while Dean cut the pillows, trying to find where the magical object could be. Then, ripping open the mattress, a little, purple bundle fell on the floor. The hunter immediately grabbed it, searching his pocket for his lighter and set the magical object on fire. Purple flames burned the hex bag and the mist disappeared, freeing Metra and making her fall on the floor. Dean rushed to her, kneeling in front of her and placing a reassuring hand on her arm.

Taking some big and deep breaths, Metra raised her head, her eyes full of confusion and fear asking for answers on what had just happened to her. Dean moved his hand up and down her arm, trying to give her some comfort and turned his head towards his brother.

Another person they had to give the talk to.

After a short explanation on the supernatural threat she had just faced and who they actually were, Sam and Dean convinced Metra to come with them to their motel room, assuring her that it was the best way to keep her safe. And, trying to wrap her mind around this whole supernatural world and creatures, she packed a bag and followed them to the black car.

Once in the motel, Sam sat down behind his computer and searched for anything that could help them in this case while his brother tried to answer the poor woman’s questions. Resting her head between her hands, Metra’s heart pounded in her chest, her eyes focused on the brown carpet of the motel room.

“So, it was a witch. A witch killed my sister.” Metra declared, trying to get used to the creature behind her sister’s murder.

Dean sighed, placing a warm and reassuring hand on her knees.

“We think so. The hex bag I burned? Sam found one in your sister’s room as well. We think someone who wanted to harm her put it there. You said that she had some arguments with her boyfriend recently, right?” Dean asked even though he already knew the answer. He only needed confirmation to go to his place and make sure he didn’t hurt anyone anymore.

“You think Marcus did this to her?” Metra raised her head, her eyes wide opened in shock. Dean only shrugged.

Adriana and her boyfriend had been in a relationship for years and they were only facing disagreements for the past few months but nothing that could ever make them think about murdering the loved one.

“But why me? I mean, why try to kill me, too?” She asked, the more she was thinking about this whole story the more confused she was becoming.

The idea that Marcus had killed her own sister, that he had used magic to do so and that she could have been his next victim: all of this was so confusing and crazy. The many new and unbelievable information were starting to hurt her head and making her wish she was only having a nightmare.

A long and very real nightmare.

“We don’t know. But the bad guys don’t usually stop at one killing, sometimes it’s easier to get rid of the entire family too. No witnesses.” Dean gave her an explanation and Metra’s heart dropped into her stomach.

When Dean saw her face fall, he clenched his jaws, silently hoping he hadn’t phrased it that way. And as he raised his head to look at his little brother, he could see in Sam’s eyes that maybe it wasn’t the best to have said this but again, there wasn’t any good way to tell someone they could be on the list of a murderous witch.

Metra’s breath started to get stuck in her throat, her heart beating loudly in her ears as she was slowly starting to take everything that had happened to her and her sister in. Feeling dizzy without even having touched the beer the older Winchester had offered her when they had arrived, Metra tried to get up. Dean’s hand fell off of her knee and he rose with her, careful on how she was holding up, paying close attention to her body and any hint of her passing out on him. It wouldn’t have been the first someone fainted in front of them after hearing about what bumped into the night. But he really hoped that she wouldn’t be one of them.

But, slightly putting her weight on Dean’s arm as she stood up, she looked at the bathroom’s door on her right.

“I… I need to go to the bathroom.” She declared, her voice not louder than a whisper.

“Sure.” Dean answered her with a weak smile and let her arm go as she started walking to the bathroom.

The hunter clenched his jaws when she closed the door behind her and quickly turned to his brother, hoping that Sam had found anything that could help them in this case. The address of this Marcus guy would be awesome for example. So, walking to his brother, Dean sat down at the table Sam was working at. Crossing his hands on the furniture, he bent his back to be closer to his brother, ready to listen to any info the tall man could have found out.

“Sam! An address maybe?” Dean pushed and Sam clenched his jaws, staring at him. His brother was cutting off even his thoughts.

“Tell me you’ve got something, anything.” Dean immediately asked and Sam straightened, ready to let his brother know what he had discovered.

While Dean was trying to comfort Metra and make her understand what their real job was, Sam had opened the hex bag in the sisters’ rooms; trying to find a clue on who had cursed them. The basic ingredients for a hex bag were there : like some black cat bones, herbs and withered flowers, some fur too. But as he had inspected the ingredients, he had noticed a twig of some kind of cereal and-

Letting a deep and loud sigh of annoyance and frustration, the younger brother tapped his fingers on his laptop and got Marcus’ location in a few seconds.

“501 Hazel Street.” Sam declared reluctantly and Dean jumped on his feet, grabbing his gun and checking that it was still loaded with witch-killing bullets.

“Dean, I think we should talk about this first. Maybe this isn’t the only lead. Maybe this isn’t a lead at all.” Sam tried to explain to his brother that what he had found in the hex bag could be more than just a witch. But Dean was stubborn when he wanted to and, turning to his brother, he offered him a big, fake smile.

“Well, let’s check if it is one.” He stated, putting his gun in his jeans and walked to the bathroom.

Knocking on it, he discreetly put his ear on the door to catch any unusual sound coming from the other side.

“Metra? We’re going to go to Marcus’, okay? You can stay here while we’re gone, we won’t be long.” Dean explained against the wooden door and as Sam let a surprised sound behind him as the tall hunter would have liked to know that she was staying here before he told her, Metra opened the door, almost cutting Dean off in his sentence and making him take a step back.

“I’m coming with you.” She declared, her eyes red and puffy from her obvious crying in the bathroom.

Dean shook his head, immediately disagreeing with this idea. Metra coming with them meant more danger for her and Dean thought that she had been through enough already.

“No, it’s safer if you stay at the motel.” Dean stated, ready to turn around and leave so he wouldn’t have to argue with her for too long.

“Isn’t the safer place with you?” She started and Dean slightly pouted, revealing the dimples at the corners of his lips. He hated when people used this. “Besides, if Marcus really is the one who killed Adriana I wanna see him. I wanna ask him why…” Metra continued, lowering her gaze for a second as she mentioned her sister’s death.

Dean sighed, clenching his jaws as he thought about what she meant and if he had been in her place, there was no way in hell that he would have stayed in that motel room. But it didn’t mean that he had to be happy with her joining them.

“Alright.” Dean sighed, clenching his jaws. “You can come with us but you stay in the car and I’ll call you when it’s safe for you to see him. That’s my condition.” The older hunter explained and the woman nodded. At least she wasn’t going to stay alone in this motel room, waiting for them to come back with the news of her sister’s murderer killed. At least, this way, she could have a chance to have an explanation of it all.

“Okay.” Metra simply answered and Dean nodded, turning to Sam who was giving him many disapproving looks he decided to ignore.

“Well, let’s go.” Dean declared, putting his jacket off and brushing past his irritated brother who had no other choice but to follow him.

“Alright, let’s do this.” Dean said, checking his gun one last time before turning around in the Impala, looking at Metra in the backseat.

“So, you stay here and I’ll come and get you when it’s good.” The older man repeated and Metra nodded again, knowing that it was the smartest thing to listen to him. If Marcus had really tried to kill her too, it was safer for her to stay hidden until he couldn’t hurt her anymore.

“Good. Let’s go.” Dean told his little brother who quickly got out of the car after glancing at the girl behind him.

Watching his big brother heading to the small house in front of them, Sam quickly started to follow him so he wouldn’t do anything stupid like burst the door open and threaten a potentially innocent man. But before he could make his brother slow down and think, Dean was kicking the door, bursting into the house and pointing his gun at the man laying on his comfortable sofa.

“Don’t move!” Dean shouted and Marcus shrieks, curling on his couch in fear.

“Wha- what is going on?” The man asked in a high and shaky voice, making Dean frown for a second. It wasn’t the reaction he was expecting but witches could try to fool them with fake behavior. So, Dean continued to aim at the man in front of him, his gaze dark and threatening, ready to shoot if Marcus did a move he didn’t like.

“Dean! Stop!” Sam yelled behind him, rushing into the living room and witnessing the terrified man.

Dean quickly glanced at his brother before turning his attention back to Marcus, his jaws clenched and his eyes focused.

“What?” The older man asked in a grave and loud voice while Sam walked to him, hands raised in a calming gesture.

“It’s not him. The flowers in front of his house, they’re withered.” Sam explained, hoping that his explanation would make sense.

The vegetation surrounding Marcus’ home was dead, just like the Baker sisters’ and Zoey’s. Marcus wasn’t the killer, for all it was, he could be the next victim. Dean knew what his brother meant by that but it didn’t mean he had to agree with him. So, keeping his arms straight and steady in front of him, still holding his gun, Dean shrugged.

“So? He could be the one making them die. We thought that about Zoey, too.” He declared and the threatened man’s eyes widened.

“Did something happen to Zoey, too?” Marcus asked in a trembling voice.

“Shut up!” The green-eyed hunter quickly shouted and Marcus stopped talking, sinking a bit more into his sofa in fear.

“Dean, look at him, he’s terrified! It’s not him!” Sam tried to talk some sense into his brother who was slowly starting to listen to him.

He didn’t like to be wrong and threaten the wrong guy, but Dean had to admit that Marcus seemed more scared than dangerous. If he was the witch, he would have put a spell on them by now, sending them flying across the room or turning their intestines in knots. But the whole time Dean had aimed at him, Marcus had only curled up on his couch, trying to get as far away from his gun as possible, asking what was happening, fear written all over his face.

So, sighing, Dean lowered his gun and Marcus started to breathe again.

“If you didn’t kill Adriana, what’s your deal with Zoey? Why bitch about your girlfriend to her?” Dean asked the panicked man whose eyebrows rose in incomprehension, wondering who those men were in his living room.

And when he took too much time to answer, Dean raised his voice again.

“Answer!”

“W-we started going out together f-for a few weeks. I was trying to break up with Adri, I swear, but before I could explain everything, sh-she got killed.” Marcus blurted out, stuttering through his sentence. Dean rolled his eyes at the answer and put his gun back in his jeans.

“So, not a murderer, just a shitty boyfriend.” He judged and Marcus let out a quiet sob, hiding his head in his hands, making Dean sigh and look away.

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry, please, don’t kill me…” Marcus begged and Dean pouted in discomfort.

Looking around him, he found a box of tissues and grabbed them, handing Marcus the box in a sigh.

“Here.” Marcus took a tissue and blew his nose. “I’m not gonna kill you, alright? Just… next time, break up with the girl before looking elsewhere.” Dean told the poor man who quickly nodded, fully understanding the lesson.

“Alright, let’s go.” The older brother declared, turning around and away from Marcus and meeting the disapproving gaze of his little brother.

Dean knew that he had screwed up, he shouldn’t have threatened the half-innocent man but it was stronger than him, he wanted to solve this case. He needed to solve this case. But Sam wanted the same thing as him and the younger hunter wasn’t threatening people before he was sure they were actually the person they were looking for.

Feeling the guilt of scaring the poor guy, Dean headed to the front door, wanting to leave as fast as possible. Marcus didn’t deserve this, he hadn’t been the boyfriend of the year for sure, but Dean knew that his method hadn’t been right. He couldn’t just walk into a house, threaten the people there only to walk away when he realized he had been mistaken. And he knew that his little brother was going to remind him this once they would be alone. Dean already apprehended this inevitable moment.

“Hum… we’re really sorry, Marcus. We made a mistake.” Sam politely smiled, trying to calm down the scared man in front of him and making him understand that they were working on Adriana’s case but had been misled.

After making up a few white lies and making sure that Marcus wasn’t going to be traumatized for life or file a complaint against them, Sam left the house, leaving the man on his couch, still in shock. Watching his brother walking to the black car, Sam caught up with Dean before he could reach the Impala.

“What the hell, Dean? You can’t just threaten people like that!” Sam lectured his brother who sighed, knowing full well the mistake he had made.

“I thought he was the bad guy, okay? And he kinda was.” Dean tried to justify himself but Sam rolled his eyes, shaking his head in disapproval. No matter what his brother was going to find to legitimize what he had done, it wouldn’t make it right. The stab first and ask questions later method had been out of question for a while now and Sam didn’t intend to come back to it soon.

“Dean, you can’t just burst into people’s houses like that and leave them in shock. What’s gotten into you?” Sam asked, his eyebrows in a frown, trying to understand the meaning under his brother’s behavior.

But, taking a breath to ease the tension between them, Sam took a step towards his brother.

“I just wanna solve this case before more people get hurt.” Dean declared, stopping in front of the Impala and turning to Sam.

The tall man could see that Dean was serious, that solving this case was something he deeply wanted to do. And Sam also knew that, the ‘more people’ his brother was talking about was Metra. Sam didn’t quite understand the sudden care for the girl, she was witnessed and a victim but they didn’t know her at all and as much as Dean would hate that he thought so, if Marcus wasn’t the killer, everyone could be a suspect.

“I know. And I wanna solve this case too, trust me. But let’s do it right and not just threaten every person we come across, right?” Sam told him, slightly raising his eyebrows to make Dean understand that he was serious. The green-eyed man let a frustrated breath out, looking away for a second, hating when his brother was right.

“Right.” Dean declared, his way to say he was sorry and was agreeing with his brother.

“Is everything okay?” A voice joined the brothers’ conversation and Dean turned around, his eyes founding the brown ones of Metra.

His face softened a little when he looked at her, standing behind her opened door and he took a step towards her.

“Yeah. Marcus wasn’t the one behind your sister’s murder.” Dean explained and Metra’s mouth slightly opened in a ‘o’, raising her eyebrows at the information.

“So, what do we do, now?” She asked, looking from one brother to the other, wanting to know how they could solve her sister’s case. Dean searched the beautiful girl’s face and her eyes seemed clouded in a certain sadness, the elucidation of this tragedy slowly slipping away from her grasp. Dean’s heart tightened at view and he took another step to her, showing his support.

“We go back to the motel and we continue working the case until we find out who it is.” The hunter declared, confidence and seriousness in his voice. Metra nodded, trying to give him a small smile and when he turned to his brother, Sam was nodding too, approving of this simple but much more reasonable plan.

Dean walked to the driver’s door and sat down behind the wheels. Turning on the engine, he drove back to their motel. They still had a lot of work to do.

Back to their motel room, Sam and Dean changed their clothes, deciding that the fake-fbi suits had been enough and wanting to go back to their own self. Metra had been quiet through the whole ride and even now, sitting on Dean’s bed. The woman was tired, wanting to know the long and the short of what had happened to her sister.

Lost in her thoughts, the brown-haired girl was looking mindlessly at the floor, the events of the past few days running through her head, watching her sister’s corpse over and over, her own near death experience joining the party. Raising his head from his father’s journal, trying to see if John had ever come across something like this during his years of hunting, Dean looked at Metra. Frowning at her resting her head on her hands and staring at nothing, he turned to her.

“You’re okay there, Sweetheart?” The nickname slipped from his lips but Metra didn’t seem to mind, as she only looked at him.

Shrugging at first, the woman shook her head soon after, lowering her gaze.

“No, not really. I feel… drained and… dirty. Could I borrow your bathroom and maybe take a shower, please?” Metra asked, unsure of how her request would be taken. They were already kind enough to let her stay with them and maybe she was going to push their boundaries with her ask. But, on the contrary, Dean nodded, not seeing the problem in her demand.

“Sure. Do you need clean clothes or something?” He asked, not knowing what he would have given her if she had said yes. But fortunately for him, she shook her head, getting up from the bed.

“No, no, I just need to wash myself after… everything. Thank you.” She explained and gave the hunter a smile that Dean returned.

Metra walked to the bathroom and Sam glanced at her when she passed by him, silently observing her enter their bathroom for the second time. When he turned his head again, Dean was staring at the closed door and Sam narrowed his eyes. Feeling his brother’s eyes on him, Dean looked at Sam, raising his eyebrows questioningly.

“What?” He asked in his deep voice and Sam simply looked at him, analyzing.

“Nothing.”

“Yeah.” Dean closed the conversation and browsed through his father’s journal that he knew by heart, fully knowing that he wouldn’t find anything in it.

Sam went back to his opened laptop in front of him when the water began to flow in the bathroom, reading on a website about witchcraft what the herbs in the hex bag could refer to and bringing his attention back to the twig he had noticed earlier. And, taking it between his fingers, he quickly recognized it as wheat. It wasn’t common to find this cereal in a hex bag and it caught the younger brother’s attention. And, after recognizing the wheat, Sam paid more attention to the withered flowers next to it. And even though he wasn’t an expert in blossoms, he couldn’t help but want to find out what those flowers actually were and after some targeted research on the topic, Sam discovered that those dried petals were those of hydrangea, colchium and hemlock.

Frowning, he decided to do detailed research on those flowers, wanting to discover the meaning behind them, convinced that it could help them in the case. And, once he had gathered the information he was looking for, he let out a surprised snort, leaning against the back of his chair.

“So, get this.” Sam started, making his brother look away from the pages of the journal, having his full attention. When Sam started a sentence like this, it meant that the solution was on the way.

“I noticed some strange ingredients in the hex bag I found in Adriana’s room so I did some research.” Sam started to explain and Dean smirked a little, secretly impressed when his little brother noticed things like those when he would only see herbs and bones. Sam continued.

“Okay Edward Scissorhands, where does that leave us?” Dean asked, turning his palms towards the sky in perplexity.

“First, there is a twig of wheat” Sam took the small branch in his fingers and showed it to his brother, illustrating his words. “Then, there were some dead petals too and I found out that they are hydrangea, colchium, hemlock and poppy.” Sam explained, turning his laptop towards his brother so he could see by himself the flowers he was talking about.

Glancing at the pictures of the flowers then at his brother, Dean raised his eyebrows, not getting what he was supposed to understand from looking at some daisies.

Sam groaned a little and took his laptop back before continuing to explain where he was getting.

“The wheat is a symbol of the cultivation of the fields, harvests. The hydrangea is a flower that grows in the garden until the end of summer, they allude to deep emotions towards the one surrounding us, especially our family. As for the colchium and hemlock, they are symbols of jealousy, dying love and poison and betrayal.” Sam explained and Dean’s eyebrows furrowed the more his brother talked.

“Okay.” Dean simply said but Sam knew it was an invitation to go on. And he did.

“I think that, those flowers weren’t randomly chosen. I think all of this is connected. The symbols of family, betrayal, jealousy and dying love.” Sam said and Dean was now really into his brother’s tale, joining him in the analysis and trying to connect the dots with him.

“Okay, but what about the wheat? What’s the link between farms and a poor girl dead?” Dean wondered and Sam slightly shook his head, leaning closer to his brother.

“Not between farms, but between fields and cultivation.” Sam corrected his brother who raised his eyebrows, trying to understand what his point was. “I don’t think we’re dealing with a witch here, Dean. I think we’re dealing with a god.” Sam declared and Dean’s eyes widened.

The idea of facing a god in this small, lost-in-the-middle-of-nowhere town wasn’t something that had reached Dean’s mind. Less alone when all the clues were pointing to a witch. So, frowning, Dean tucked his chin before interrupting his brother.

“God? What god? What about the hex bag? Gods don’t need those. We’re clearly dealing with a witch, here, Sam.” Dean argued and Sam understood why his brother was saying that.

It was true that gods had no use for hex bags and that they usually despite working with witches or other supernatural beings, but it wouldn’t have been the first god who would mix identities with someone else to achieve their aims. After all, Loki and Gabriel had shared identities for centuries. So, to Sam, it wouldn’t be absurd if Adriana’s death had been caused by a god who was trying to hide it as witchcraft. And he needed to make Dean see his point of view on the situation.

“Listen, everything makes sense if you think about it. The dying nature all over town, the twig of wheat and the poppy in the hex bag. This is not a witch but a god.” Sam continued and Dean raised his hands, showing his lack of understanding.

“What god?” He asked, slowly starting to get irritated by not understanding.

“Persephone? And what makes you think it’s her?” Dean asked and Sam was happy to explain his thoughts to him and how he had come to this conclusion.

“Persephone.” Sam stated and Dean stopped, narrowing his eyes.

The name wasn’t unknown to the older brother but he didn’t really understand how it could be more Persephone or any other god than a vengeful witch. And why would they bother covering up their murder as if a witch had done it? Dean wasn’t fully against the possibility of a god doing all this, but he needed to understand why his brother thought so.

“Well, you know the myth of Persephone, right?” Sam started and Dean made a face his little brother knew too well.

“Of course.” He lied and Sam couldn’t help but have a slight smile on his lips, always finding it a little funny when he tried to act like he knew something when he didn’t.

“Well, as you know, Persephone had been kidnapped by Hades who wanted to make her his queen in Hell. Her mother, Demeter, declared that the Earth would starve until she found her daughter and after going to Zeus, they came to an arrangement: Persephone would spend eight months on Earth with her mother and four in Hell with her Hades. That’s why nature is almost missing or dead during winter, the four months Persephone are in Hell.” Sam explained the myth and Dean nodded, taking in the information his brother was giving him.

“Alright, but we’re in June, so your story doesn’t make sense.” Dean declared and the younger hunter quickly nodded, agreeing with him.

“Exactly, we’re in June, the vegetation is supposed to grow and be alive, but it’s not the case here. And in the hex bag, I found the wheat which is connected to the fields and farming, the fertility of the soils. And the poppy is Persephone’s symbol. It’s all connected.” Sam’s voice raised in excitement as he explained how the fact that the dying nature in the whole town showed it was related to Persephone’s myth.

“But what about the other flowers you found in there?” Dean asked, jutting his chin towards the opened hex bag on the table.

“I don’t know about that yet, but, Dean, I’m sure that this is not a witch. I’m convinced that we’re dealing with Persephone or at least her myth. I don’t know why now or the reason behind all this but I know it’s related. Trust me.” Sam told his big brother who stared at him for a moment, listening to what he was saying and started to slowly see his point.

“Okay, okay. Let’s say it’s her. Who and where is she?” Dean asked. If he agreed with his brother and worked on the assumption that it was never a witch in the first place, they needed to find out why all of this was happening here and now, why Adriana was killed and more importantly, how they would kill this goddess.

At his question, Sam’s eyes fell on the bathroom’s door, his suspicion towards the supposed victim growing the more he thought about it, the more he looked into this case. Dean turned his head and looked at the wooden door too and when he understood what his brother meant, he looked at the tall man again, furrowing his eyebrows and shaking his head.

“No.” Dean stated, refusing the idea of Metra being the one behind all this.

“Dean, we don’t know anything about her. How can you know that she’s not manipulating you into thinking that she’s a victim? How can you be sure that she isn’t the one who killed Adriana in the first place?” Sam argued, not understanding why his brother was so sure that she was innocent.

“No, this isn’t her. Her sister was a victim of this damn goddess if you want, but Metra almost died too. She discovered the corpse of her sister, has been attacked herself and almost choked to death and you’re telling me that she’s the one behind all this?” Dean declared, his voice raising a little, highly refusing that the brown-haired girl could be the bad guy they had to get rid off.

“There wasn’t anyone in the house when we came, no forced entry either. I checked. I’m not completely saying that it is her but you can’t prove to me that she isn’t the reason why we’re here, either.” Sam pointed out and Dean clenched his jaws, crossing his arms before himself in a defensive gesture. Sam knew at this moment that his brother wouldn’t listen to reason anymore.

“No. I can’t believe that she’s behind all this. Did you see how terrified she was when we rescued her? How she's mourning her sister? And how all the supernatural talk made her dizzy? Come on, Sam, she’s innocent.” Dean argued, trying to win over his brother and disculpate the poor girl. Dean had been touched by the young woman, relating all too well to the pain of losing their only sibling. Everyone reacted all they could in front of such a loss and while Dean was trying to comfort and bring some peace in some way to Metra, Sam had eyed her, not feeling her pain like Dean had. The younger brother had some reservations towards her, not connecting with her like Dean.

“Or she’s a really good actress.” Sam declared, showing Dean that he still wasn’t convinced about her innocence and Dean glared at him, not liking at all his accusations.

“Okay, stop it. It’s not her.” Dean stated, putting an end to the argument, not wanting to hear any of this anymore.

Sam sighed.

The younger brother knew at this very moment that no matter what he was going to say, Dean wouldn’t agree with the possibility that Metra wasn’t as innocent as she tried to appear. But after all, Sam could be wrong and he could be accusing an honest and harmless girl who had only witnessed her sister murder. But something told him it wasn’t the case, something told him that Metra knew more than she wanted to reveal. Sam hadn’t fallen under the brown-haired girl’s spell, unlike his brother.

“So, how do we kill it?” Dean asked, his voice still a bit defensive from the previous argument and Sam focused on his brother again.

“How do we kill what?” Metra’s voice interrupted, making Sam turn his head towards the young woman.

Dean raised his head and looked at her too, her wet hair falling on her shoulders, her arms wrapped around herself to keep her warmth. Looking at her, Dean couldn’t understand how his brother could think that she could be the monster they had to gank, especially when she looked so vulnerable, so lost.

“The goddess. We think that it’s not a witch but a goddess. Do you know the myth of Persephone?” Dean asked and didn’t look at his brother who glared at him for revealing what they were truly after when his main suspect was in the room.

Metra’s eyes widened and she walked to Dean’s bed, sitting on it and looking at the brothers in front of her.

“Wait, gods exist too?” She asked, surprise written all over her face. When she thought that this world was only filled with supernatural creatures like vampires or werewolves, she was told that the religious beings existed too.

What didn’t they face?

Dean nodded and Metra took a deep breath, taking the new information in and trying not to break down again. It wasn’t their job to comfort her, their duty was to get rid of the monster terrorizing this town. Once she felt like her emotions were under control, she remembered Dean’s question and nodded.

“Yes, I know this myth. I’ve taken some mythology classes in college and we talked about this myth who created the seasons.” Metra told the Winchesters and they nodded, agreeing with the story. “Wait, you guys think that it’s Persephone? She’s the one behind all this? She killed my sister? Why?” The woman asked, thousands of questions appearing in her mind.

Dean turned towards her a bit more, raising his hand her way to try and stop her many questions. Questions he didn’t have an answer to.

“We don’t know.” He started and the girl’s brown eyes met Dean’s green ones. “We think that she’s the one causing all this but we don’t know why or why she killed your sister. But it doesn’t matter, we’re gonna find a way to kill her and will get rid of her. She won’t hurt anyone else again.” Dean assured and she nodded, believing him and his promise to put an end to all of this. She wanted this too.

“And how do you plan on doing that?” She asked, wondering how humans could actually kill a god.

“That’s what we’re working on.” Dean answered, looking at his brother who immediately started to tap away at his laptop keyboard, already doing researches to distinguish between the true and the false and on how to kill the monster behind all this.

“Alright, I think I’ve got it.” Sam broke the silence in the motel room, making Dean and Metra raise their heads from the mythology books they were both reading.

“Feel free to share with the class, Sammy.” Dean replied, causing Sam to roll his eyes at the comment and nickname but also made Metra chuckle. The older brother couldn’t help but appreciate the short sound, the glimpse of her lightly smiling making him half-grin.

“Well, I’ve found out how to summon her and from everything I’ve read, it seems like a stake made of cypress covered in poppies through her heart would work.” Sam explained, already making researches on where he could find the tree.

“I told you that the poppies would have a part to play in this.” Metra declared with a smile, excited to be right and Sam slightly rolled his eyes, hating to admit that she had indeed told him so.

Dean saw his brother’s light pout and couldn’t help but smirk. No matter who it was, if someone was right before Sam was, Dean was happy to see this little frustrated and almost upset face on his little brother. So, he smiled, earning a dark look from his little brother, silently telling him to not make any comment on this. For once, Dean listened and didn’t tease his brother. He would do it later.

“Okay, so I get the poppies link with this Persephone bitch, but what about the Cypress? Why not the usual oak stake?” Dean asked and Sam was about to answer his brother’s relevant question but Metra was quicker and replied first.

“In the Greek and Roman mythology, the Cypress is a tree linked to hell, so it would make sense with the myth. Look, they talk about it here.” She said, standing up from the bed and walking to Dean with the book in her hands. Once she was standing next to him, she pointed to a page with her finger and Dean leaned closer to her to read the paragraph she was showing him while Sam discreetly tried to read behind her shoulder, wanting to see it by himself.

After reading the part where they mention this tree, Sam approved her explanation and the woman smiled, happy to be able to help the brothers in their researches. And as much as it was costing him to admit it, Sam had to recognized that Metra had been helpful on the researches. She had went to the nearest library with Dean and had picked up the most accurate and detailed books about mythology there but also the books she had studied in her classes, trying to gather as many information as she could to help them on this case. Maybe what motivated her was the idea of being able to found her sister’s killer and get revenge, or maybe she had felt useless for the past few days and now that someone was actually doing something to help on her sister’s case she wanted to participate. No matter the reason, the tall hunter had to admit that she had been useful on getting information about mythology. And, considering she was founding with them a way to kill Persephone, Sam was slowly starting to doubt his suspicions about her. If she had been Persephone, she wouldn’t have helped them find a way to kill her, she would have get rid of them for getting to close to the truth.

“Alright, so, you prepare everything we need for the summoning, I’ll get you the stake and flower.” Dean told his brother, standing up and putting his jacket on, ready to go and find everything they needed to kill this goddess.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asked and Metra turned around, facing him.

“Most of what we need are in the trunk, so, I can go with you. We get the stake and poppies and summon her right away. The quicker we do it, the more we prevent her from causing other deaths.” Sam declared, standing up too and walked to his bed to grab his jacket too, getting ready to leave the motel and put an end to this case.

Metra got up in her turn and was ready to take her coat when Dean’s voice stopped her in her movement.

“I’m coming with you too.” She simply answered, ready to face the monster that had killed her sister. But the older man had a different take on it and immediately shook his head at her sentence.

“No way. You’re staying here, we’re gonna take care of this god.” He declared, his voice deep and serious, not leaving place to argument.

Metra’s shoulders lowered at the idea of staying behind while they dealt with the supernatural being, she wanted to see the person that had killed Adriana, she needed to see it dead with her own eyes, needing to make sure that it wouldn’t hurt anyone else again, not even herself. And Metra didn’t understand why she couldn’t come with them, after all she had helped on finding what could kill this so called god and had even been allowed to go with them when they had faced Marcus when they thought he was the witch.

And she decided to remind him of those fact.

“Why? I proved you that I could be useful, didn’t I? And you let me come with you when you went to Marcus’, why would it change now?” She asked, trying to understand why this sudden change of position on the topic.

Adjusting his jacket on, Dean walked closer to her in an attempt to make himself more heard and understand. He needed her to see his point even though he knew that, no matter what she was gonna say, she still wasn’t coming with them.

“We thought Marcus was a witch and witches are pretty easy to kill, witch-killing bullets in the heart or brain and the case it settled. And we could talk with him but gods are a whole other deals. They aren’t a milk run, okay? This is way more dangerous. We don’t know how powerful she’ll be, her powers or if the stake is gonna end her. And even if you want answers, you don’t talk with gods. So, no. You’re not coming.” Dean declared, his green eyes focused and piercing through her pupils. She could see that he was deadly serious about this and to say that she wasn’t scared by the whole god thing would have been a lie, but she still hoped to have answers to the questions she had.

“Dean…” She started in an attempt to making him hear her out but he didn’t even let her finish her sentence, already running out of time and fearing the goddess striking again.

“No. This is way too dangerous. She already hurt you once and it won’t happen again, not on my watch. So you stay here where you’re safe.” He told her, putting an end to the discussion and Metra sighed, understanding that she had lost this fight but deeply hoping that they would be able to kill this monster, to avenge her sister and maybe even have some answers she profoundly needed.

After parking the Impala in front of a disused factory they found to summon the goddess, Sam and Dean got out of the car and walked to the trunk, opening it to take with them everything they needed to put an end to this case.

Sam grabbed a bowl, the blood of lamb, some herbs and his notebook where he had the written the summoning while Dean took the sharp stake of cypress covered in dust of poppies and his gun. Just in case. Grabbing a flashlight each as the night had started to fall on the quiet city, the hunters moved in sync towards the building in front of them.

The disused factory was at the exit of the town, away from civilization and anyone who would ask questions about their doing there in the middle of the night.

Pushing the sliding door open, Dean lighted the abandoned main room. Glancing at his brother, he entered the place and started to inspect premises, looking for anyone hidden in there, some children looking for an adrenaline shot in the abandon place of their town or even a lost and homeless person who had taken as a shelter the disused building. But the more he looked around the less he found, quickly coming to the conclusion that they were completely alone.

While his brother made sure they weren’t going to be disturbed by anyone, Sam prepared everything he needed to summon the goddess. After lighting many candles to have a better view of the room, the dozens of little flames dancing and creating some shadows around the tall hunter, Sam drew a sigil on the floor that would supposedly trap the goddess and make her powerless. Once it was ready, Sam placed the bowl full of blood in the middle of it, placed the herbs inside and stood up holding his notebook.

The red-head woman, dressed in a fluid and cream dress, looked around herself, trying to understand where she had traveled to and who were those humans before her.

Once he was ready for the summoning, Dean came back and made him understand with a silent look that the place was empty. With the confirmation of being alone, Sam started to recite the summoning in Latin, putting the right intonation to be sure to not make any mistake and get the goddess there on the first try. Dean didn’t understand what his brother was saying but it didn’t matter, Sam had proved more than once that he was the expert on those type of things so he only waited, looking around to make sure no one was coming and when Sam reached the end of his summoning, he lit the matches he had in his pocket and threw them in the bowl.

A bright and wide blue flame appeared in front of them, a warm wind crashed on their faces, making them take a step back and cover their eyes to be able to see. For a second, Sam feared that the candles all over the room were going to go out but they magically didn’t and once the breeze of flowery scent stopped blowing, the hunters lowered their arms, revealing a beautiful woman standing in the middle of the painted sigil.

“Who are you? What am I doing in this place?” She asked Sam and Dean who were already glaring at her, ready to attack and end her life.

“Don’t try this with us! We’re the one asking the questions. Why did you kill Adriana Baker?” Dean shouted, aiming his gun at her and the woman took a step back at his aggressiveness, her eyes widening.

“I don’t understand. Who is this Adriana?” Persephone asked, looking around her and studying her surroundings. Looking at her feet, she saw some lines drawn under her and when she tried to walked away from the menacing men, she couldn’t, trapped in what seemed to be an invisible cage.

“Don’t move, bitch! And this all innocent act, it won’t work with us.” Dean told the goddess who frowned at him, shocked by his vulgarity and more and more confused by his words. But Dean didn’t buy it, seeing right through her and her attempt to act like she didn’t know why she was being trapped and threatened.

“Oh but it already worked, Handsome.” A voice echoed behind the hunters and Dean froze when he recognized the person it belonged to. His blood ran cold and before he could turn around and see the person with his own eyes, Persephone spoke up, her eyes big and round in surprise and shock.

“Demetra?” The goddess asked, her voice high with confusion and what Dean thought was the victim of this story stepped out of the darkness.

“Hello, sister. Long time no see.” Metra said, the kindness in her voice long gone and the mourning expression on her face now replaced by a smirk splitting her lips.

Dean’s heart skipped a bit when he realized he had been fooled by the beauty and acting of the woman he had defended to his brother. Dean Winchester had been deceived before, on other cases and by other monsters but something deep inside him was always a bit leery about them. But this time, it hadn’t been the case, this time he had completely bitten the story of the poor woman who had lost her sister and had been attacked herself by the horrible monster when the horrible monster was herself. The idea of being taken for a ride and look like a damn fool enraged him, every ounce of compassion and sympathy towards her completely gone, he quickly turned around and immediately aimed his gun towards her chest ready to shoot and ease his nerves.

“Nah-ah.” Metra let out, sending the brother flying across the room with the back of her hand and pinning them against a wall, making them lost their guns in the process.

“You bitch! You were behind all this! To think that I almost shot a guy because I thought he had attacked you! And Adriana? What did the poor girl do to you?” Dean yelled, furious, his blood boiling under his skin while he struggled to free himself from the invisible grip on him.

“I told you she was the one making all this!” Sam said to his brother, the frustration of being right but not having been listening to irritating him too. It wasn’t the first time Dean had listened to himself when Sam was the one being right and had put forward his arguments to prove him so. But Dean had done whatever he wanted and here they were, unable to move and kill the evil in front of them.

“Enough talking, you two.” Metra declared and made the brothers shut their mouths with a movement of her hand.

Incapable of opening their mouths no matter how much they tried and wanted to, Sam and Dean looked at each other. Sam glared at his brother, silently arguing with him and letting him know how pissed at him he was for not believing him when he should have and Dean rolled his eyes, saving the lecture for another time. Dean turned his head and glared at the fake victim on front of him, his green eyes dark with anger.

“Adriana was a mean to an end. I needed something to make you boys come to this town and apparently, a death in odd circumstances brings hunters quickly.” Metra declared, looking at the brothers dark looks. She understood their rage and hate towards her and, honestly, couldn’t blame them for it but she had done what she had to do to find her own peace.

“And once you were here, you so kindly delivered me how to kill the beloved Persephone and even handed her over to me on a silver platter. And for this, I have to thank you.” Metra said, offering a genuine smile Dean wanted to rip off.

“Metra, what is this all about?” Persephone asked, trying to understand what was going on, trying to understand why she was here and what her sister meant.

“You. All of this is about you and how you stole what was mine millennial ago!” Metra yelled and Persephone flinched at her accusation, her thin features showing her stunned expression.

“You had everything. You were loved by gods and humans, you were beautiful and idolized by everyone.” Metra started, walking closer to her sister who took a step back. “I envied you, I envied your greatness, your reputation, your light. I was jealous of you, of all this love you received and when I caught his eyes, you couldn’t handle it, could you? You couldn’t handle the idea that I could have something you hadn’t, that I could receive someone’s love that you wouldn’t have.” The goddess accused and Persephone’s face started to fall, her delicate and kind features softening in realization.

“That’s what you think happened? He kidnapped me, held me captive and only agreed to free me when Mother threatened to starve the earth. And I’m allowed to walk this planet only a certain part of time! Is that what you really envy? A life of captivity, alternating between hell and earth?” Persephone argued, slowing raising her voice at her sister’s words. She had to defend herself, she couldn’t stay there and letting herself being insulted like this by her own sister.

Metra let a dark laugh out at her tale, not believing her in the slightest. She knew the myth around her sister, how she had been stolen by Hades himself or how no one had ever talked about her, the older sister trapped in her younger sibling’s shadow. But Metra knew better than those ridiculous stories the humans had decided to create, and she knew what kind of being her sister truly was.

“Please, don’t act like I don’t know you, Perse. You couldn’t handle the thought of not having all the attention to yourself and tricked him into falling for you. You had all the love but you couldn’t have his and this, this it what truly drove you mad.” Metra stated, glaring at her trapped sister.

The goddess of hell straightened, the fear and surprise on her face completely disappearing. Taking a step towards her sister, Persephone grinned, the way she held herself completely changing as she raised her head high on her neck, showing to Metra that she wasn’t intimidated by her in the slightest. Locking eyes with Metra, Persephone felt her blood boiling in her veins.

“All the love? She named you after herself and you say I’ve had all the love?” Persephone voice’s started to raise, her own bitterness and anger rising as she talked.

“Oh, so, because you were mad at Mommy, you punished me? You beef wasn’t with me, yet you decided to make me pay. Your lips are venomous poison and you chose to put them on him. Of all the people, him!” Metra shouted and Persephone’s eyes darkened as she took another step towards her.

“I was prettier, smarter, admired by them all, I did everything she wished for, bent over backwards to make her happy and you did nothing but couldn’t do anything wrong in her eyes.” Persephone growled and Metra smiled at her sister’s face that started to reddened as anger reached her.

“Yet, she left no stone unturned to get you back.” Metra declared, her hate growing the more she remembered how her mother had completely forgotten about her once Persephone had gone missing when she would have gone so willingly in hell and in his arms.

Persephone let a chuckle out that soon turned into a dark laugh, echoing in the whole factory. A sinister smile spread Persephone’s thin lips as she enjoyed the thought of her despicable mother threatening Zeus himself to free her, completely leaving her sister behind and finally turning all of her motherly attention to herself.

“Well… maybe I hate her just as much a I hate you.” Persephone declared making Metra clench her jaws at her words. “You were nothing Metra and still are nothing. No one knows who you are, Mother did everything in her power to get me back and Hades? He can’t get enough of me.” She added and Metra silently walked to the older hunter.

If one look could kill, Metra would have dropped dead the second she met Dean’s eyes, the hunter glared at her with all the hate he could have while his little brother carefully listened to the argument before him, connecting the dots and understanding what all of this was really about.

“Allow me.” Metra whispered to the older brother as she knelt before him and took the weapon that would kill Persephone.

Standing up, she offered him a smile and Dean turned his hand into a fist, hating how she had played him. Then, she walked back to her sister who hadn’t stopped laughing and unleashing all the hate she had towards her family, how she was delighted by her sister’s suffering. Discreetly, she lowered herself and scratched the painted sigil on the floor, freeing Persephone without her even knowing. Standing in front of the talking goddess, Metra smiled, gripping the stake in her right hand and hiding it behind her back.

“Are you gonna bark all day, little doggy, or are you gonna bite?” Metra interrupted the goddess of the kingdom of the dead who immediately glared at her.

“How dare you speak to me this way?” Persephone growled and Metra’s smile widened, enjoying her sister’s anger.

“Come on, sis’. Show me what you’ve got.” Metra provoked her and Persephone’s eyes looked at the floor, noticing the broken seal in front of her.

Without wasting a second, Persephone rushed towards the brown-haired woman and attacked her, grabbing her coat and tackling her to the ground in a scream of rage. The women fell on the floor and Metra let out a satisfied chuckle to see her sister so enraged and loosing control this way. Persephone tried to strangle her but Metra dodged her, rolling them together so she would be have the control over her again. Persephone tried to hit her but Metra was faster and caught her sister’s fist before it could reach her jaw, smirking above her.

“My pain was your thrill, Perse. Now yours will be mine.” Metra declared and created a mist around her sister, stepping away from her and moving her in the air, holding her and preventing her from moving.

As the goddess tried to free herself, Metra grinned, enjoying and contemplating her struggling sister. Metra tightened her fists and the invisible force narrowed around Persephone, making her cry out in pain.

“I wanna hurt you just to make you scream!” Metra shouted above her sister’s cries of pain as the mist suffocated her, crushing her lungs and making her stomach bleed.

The goddess savored every seconds of the sweet melody made by her sister’s screams. Her high voice filled with pain and agony made the goddess close her eyes and smile at the beautiful sound reaching her ears. If one day someone had told her she would finally kill her, told her that she would finally get her revenge, she would have called them crazy. But now they would be the ones calling her crazy to assassinate Hades’ wife. But Metra didn’t think twice and grabbed the cypress stake, holding the weapon tightly in her hand.

“Say ‘hi’ to your husband for me.” Metra told her with a wicked smirk, raising her arm as Persephone’s eyes widened, realizing her incoming fate.

Before she could say anything, Metra pierced her heart with the stake, making the goddess of the dead scream in pain, her cries echoing through the whole building. A strange flowery scent filled the room as the screeches faded and Persephone fell on the floor, lifeless.

Staring at her sister’s corpse, Metra smiled, letting a satisfied sound out. Finally. She had put an end to it all, she had avenged herself, she could start again with a clean slate, she could finally have some peace. Appreciating the scent of withered flowers, Metra knelt down next to her lifeless sister, pushing some pieces of her hair away from her face.

“You should have left him to me, little sis’. I would have had gladly let you have all Mom’s love.” The goddess declared, letting a little snort out before pulling the weapon out of her sister’s chest, observing it.

“Well, seems like you boys were right. It did kill Persephone.” The woman said, standing up and turning around towards the hunters with a smile.

When she looked at them again, the goddess only saw the dark looks the brothers were giving her. She couldn’t blame them, she had betrayed them after all and from the look of it, it wasn’t something they were planning to let her get away with. But unfortunately for them, she would be long gone before they could move again.

Sam and Dean clenched their jaws as she walked to them, playing with the stake in her hand before resting the end of it against the older brother’s chest. Dean glared at her, hating her very touch. He wanted to move, to grab her and stab her with this very stake just to see if it would hurt her. But he couldn’t even move his arm a little, trapped in his body and against the concrete wall. So the hunter did the only thing he could and glared at her, clenching his jaws until it hurt, showing her how much he hated her, how much he despised her and how much he wanted to hurt her.

At the dirty look the hunters were giving her, Metra decided to allow them to talk again, thinking that they had been restrained for long enough, forced to witness her beautiful work. So, with a light movement of her hand, she freed their mouths.

“You fucking bitch!” Dean shouted, a vein appearing on the side of his neck when he yelled while Sam gasped for air.

The goddess raised her eyebrows at the insult, tucking her chin and taking a step back while pointing the weapon at him.

“Wow, language.” She told him off, furrowing her eyebrows at the green-eyed man. “You were way more polite when you thought I was a poor, innocent victim.” Metra complained with a mocking smile and Dean wished he could grab this stake and drive it into her heart.

“Yeah, well, I have less sympathy for gods who kill innocent humans just because they got a beef with their sister over a stupid guy.” Dean vociferated, his eyes shooting daggers, still trying to free himself from the invisible grip around him.

At his words, Metra’s smile fell and she glared at him back. Taking a few steps towards him to press the sharp edge of the stake against Dean’s chest again, making the hunter grit his teeth at the feeling. Sam watched the scene, his eyes widening in fear of the goddess hurting his brother.

“Don’t!” Sam yelled, struggling against the invisible force, trying to make the goddess stop her actions before she did something irreversible. But Metra didn’t even give him a look, completely ignoring the scared hunter on her right, focusing on the one in front of her.

“Be careful on how you talk about him, human.” Metra warned, her voice low and threatening.

Dean didn’t let it appear, his face remaining focused and grave, but he was scared. His heart fastened in his chest, his blood running cold for a moment at the menacing brown eyes of the goddess, fearing for a second that he had pushed her too far and that he was going to face the consequences of his words. He had faced powerful monsters before and he had been scared but no matter what was happening inside him, he wasn’t going to show it to them. But the goddess didn’t burst his heart, the point of the weapon slightly piercing his skin was the only pain she inflicted him.

“Ah, yes, Adriana… that was very unfortunate.” She said with a smile, thinking about the girl she had chosen to bring the Winchesters in this town. It was true that Adriana had nothing to do with it, she was only a mean to an end, a very tragic end.

“I’m gonna kill you.” Dean swore, shooting daggers with his eyes. The hunter couldn’t stand her expression, hating the way she didn’t seem to care even a little about the death of the girl. She had sacrificed a human and this couldn’t be left alone, she couldn’t get away with it.

But at the genuine and serious threat, Metra grinned, biting her bottom lip. The goddess couldn’t help but love the sound of his menace, after all, she was starting to be pretty found of him.

“You’ve got a good heart, Dean. I was touched by the way you cared about my safety and pain, it had been centuries since anyone showed me such sympathy. But I have to admit, your threats are doing a whole new thing to me.” She declared, eyeing him up and down and winking at him. Dean rolled his eyes before looking away, annoyed by her inappropriate flirting.

“As for you, Sam,” she brought her attention to the younger brother who was already staring at her, “you almost saw right through me and I have to tell you that, it almost worried me for a second. You’re a smart man and I admire your distrust.” She declared and the hunter clenched his jaws, hating the way she was mocking them.

Then, stepping back and away from them, Metra took a deep breath, admiring the view of the immobilized hunters before her. She took a moment to study them both, the strength and courage that emanated from them, the way they didn’t show fear and didn’t look impressed when they perfectly knew she could end them both with a snap of her fingers. But she wasn’t going to, it was unnecessary and who knows who they might help her eliminate next time.

“I have to tell you boys, it was my first time working with hunters and I wasn’t disappointed. And I would like to thank you for helping me accomplish this.” She said, turning towards Persephone’s body laying on the floor. Letting a contemplating sigh out, she smiled.

Then, she turned back to Sam and Dean and raised the stake in her hand before kneeling down and put it on the ground. The brothers frowned at her action, wondering why she was leaving the weapon on the floor and when she stood up again, she answered her silent question.

“Well, I’ll leave you this here. Who knows, maybe you’ll need it again someday.” She shrugged, crossing her arms and taking a few more steps back. “I hope you don’t mind if I give myself a little head start. As much as a part of me would love to, may we not cross paths again. I’m afraid we won’t like the outcome.” She declared with a smile and before the brothers could say anything, she winked at them and disappeared before their eyes.

The brothers fell on the ground in a grunt, the invisible force Metra was controlling disappearing with her. Finally able to move as they pleased, the hunters turned to each others, making sure the other was alright before standing up. Sam hurried to Persephone, checking her pulse but quickly confirming her death. The tall man raised his head and saw his brother crouching down, picking up the weapon from the floor. Watching the blood on the edge of it, he tightened his grip around the stake.

They had lost this battle, they had let the goddess escape but it would have been a first if they stayed down and let the bad guy run away. This didn’t happen, not on their watch. Looking at the goddess’ dead body on the floor, Dean promised himself that he would find Metra again and kill her, and when he met his brother’s eyes, he knew Sam thought the same thing as him.

No one double-crossed the Winchesters and this goddess was going to learn this.

I hope you liked it ! Let me know if you did !  

Forever Taglist : @emilielbls @avanatural @awkward-and-indecisive  @roonyxx​ @waynes-multiverse @akshi8278 @snowlovespie @ghostofjoharvelle  

[pepprs]

not to be a pain-crazed wild animal. i KNOW i do this every time. but p*riods are so fucking crazy. like my cr*mps are so bad my body is trying to strangle itself but im awake and i need to be at work in 2 hrs and get thru an entire 9 hr workday as if im not in excruciating pain and im gonna bring my heating pad and my p*in r*lief cr*am if you catch my drift (💀) and i’ll need to use them DURING a busy day in which i will not see any other ppl who get periods in person and using them is gonna be a whole awkward thing. like omg. this is not fucking normal lol

[weareuniqueandimportant]

I HAVE SEEN THE REAL WINX CLUB... THEY'RE ALL FAIRY... AND LESBIAN... AND THERE ARE 14 OF THEM... ALL VERY INTERESTING AND PROGRESSIVE ASWELL AS FEMINIST AND EMPOVERING AND RELATABLE AND WOKE... I EVEN KNOW ALL THEIR NAMES... AND WHAT FAIRIES THEY ARE... THEY ARE... INTERESTING... MAKING MYSELF FEEL... RELATABLE... VERY SWEET AND REAL... DEPRESSING AND CRAZY... UNBELIABABLE... SHOCKING... AWESOME... RADQUEER FEMINIST COMMUNIST ANARCHIST... JUST LIKE WE'RE... THERE ARE MORE... I CAN FEEL THEM...

[rumplereids]

shining light.

tags: spencer reid x fem!reader. dad!spencer reid. reader goes into early labor. childbirth complications, but nothing explicit or detailed. GIRL DAD SPENCER REID! a/n: girl dad spencer reid brain rot. im so consumed by thoughts of him that i havent edited this yet (i havent edited kiss kiss and wonderstruck yet either lol) i hope u like this as much as i liked writing it :) masterlist. requests are open !

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“Hello?”

“Hello, are you okay?”

“My mommy is in a lot of hurt,” a child sniffles from the other side of the line, “And dadda is away at work.”

“Oh, honey. How did your mommy get hurt?”

“She was in the ki-chen and I was reading. And then I think she fell.”

“Is your mommy with you? Is she awake?”

“Yeah. But mommy is crying,” the little girl’s voice turns faint, like she’s speaking away from the phone, “Mommy! Are you okay? Is bubba okay?!”

There’s an indistinct voice that answers back.

“Honey? Are you there? What’s your name?”

“I’m Ellie Reid. My dadda is Spencer. He works with aunt Penny and aunt JJ at ‘quanico’ to catch bad guys.”

“Okay, Ellie. Who’s bubba?”

“The bubba in mommy’s tummy?”

“Your mommy has a baby in her tummy?”

“It’s a baby sister.”

“Oh, that sounds wonderful, Ellie.”

“Are you on your way now?” the sweet voice asks.

“Yes, Ellie. The paramedics are at your door. Can you let them in?”

“Okay.”

Spencer rushes through the hallway, JJ and Emily just a few steps behind him. As soon as the plane landed, an agent alerted the unit to a 911 call made by Spencer’s daughter. Words unneeded, Derek got into an SUV, immediately and silently offering to drive Spencer to the hospital. JJ and Emily got into the SUV with him, worry filling the blonde, though Spencer doesn’t have the mind to think about the others. His mind is solely focused on you.

Are you in pain? All he knew was that Ellie was the one to call for help. Said you fell in the kitchen. Were you hurt? Was your baby hurt?

“Spencer!” Penelope was waiting for him as he turns a corner.

“Where is she? Is she okay?”

“Mommy’s okay, dadda.” Ellie peeps up from behind Penelope’s skirts.

“Oh, my angel,” Spencer falls to his knees, arms opening to take his daughter in his arms. “You did so well. You remembered the emergency number, huh?”

“You said to press 911 in our phone if anything bad happens. Mommy got a big hurt.”

“I know. You were so good,” he presses a kiss on her soft, curly hair. His hands are rubbing up and down Ellie’s back. Whether he was soothing his daughter or himself didn’t matter.

“She’s in labor. Her contractions were bad bad. A nurse told me that the baby’s breeched.”

“Dadda, what does breech mean?” Ellie’s r’s still sounded like w’s, and Spencer’s heart completely melted.

He looks down at the little girl in his arms, her face still hidden against his chest.

“Do you remember the photo we showed you of bubba?”

“The weird black and white one?”

“Yeah,” he passes a hand against her hair, “A breech means that bubba’s standing up inside mommy’s belly. Not upside down how she’s supposed to be.”

“She’s so silly,” Ellie giggles. Spencer smiles back, he hears soft laughter from the three women surrounding them, “Yeah, bubba’s really silly.”

“Did she hurt mommy?”

“No, angel. She didn’t mean to.”

“Oh,” Ellie whispers. She looks up at her dad, “I knew you were gonna come.”

“Yeah? You did?”

“You’re a hero, of course you’re gonna save mommy when she’s hurt.”

Spencer wipes his thumb against his daughter’s soft cheek, “Of course. I’ll save you when you’re hurt too, Ellie-darling.”

“I know that,” she says matter-of-factly.

A nurse walks up to their group, “Are you the family of Y/N Reid?”

Spencer stands with Ellie on his hip, her little arms wrapped around his neck.

“Yes, I’m her husband.”

“Congratulations, sir. You have a healthy baby girl,” he feels the sigh of relief from everyone with him.

“How’s my wife?”

“How’s mommy?”

Spencer and Ellie were almost simultaneous in their concern for you.

“She’s fine. She’s sedated. The birth took a huge toll on her. You can enter her room, if you want.”

Derek finally arrives. He’s catching his breath from his run, his eyes meeting Spencer’s quickly before he exclaims, “Ellie-bean!”

“Uncle Derek!” Ellie wriggles in Spencer’s arms, he bends down to let her down.

Short legs run to her favorite uncle.

“We’re going to mommy and bubba now!”

Derek stands with Ellie in his arms. He looks to Spencer. “Yeah? Y/N’s okay?”

“We can visit her now,” JJ says with a small smile.

The group starts walking. On their way from the visitor’s lounge to your hospital room, Spencer overhears Ellie’s whispering; “Uncle Derek.”

“Yeah, Ellie-bean?” Derek whispers back.

“I want pretzels.”

“Salted? Cheese?”

“Um, salted. Please. And apple juice too.”

Spencer can’t fight the grin on his face.

“Alright, Ellie-bean. We’ll get pretzels and juice after we see your mom.”

“Promise?”

“I promise,” Derek shifts to bring Ellie higher against his hip.

“Pinky promise?”

“I pinky promise. On my badge and credentials.”

Ellie lets out a giggle, “Dadda!”

Spencer turns his head to give her a smile, “What’s up, angel?”

“What does cre-den-shals mean?”

Oh, his Eleanor. Always so bright.

taglist: @i-live-in-spite

[idksmtms]

To Love, What A Curse (Aegon II x Little Sister!reader, Unrequited!Aemond x Little Sister!reader)

A/N: It’s taken me a week to get over Aemond’s betrayal but this was written at the height of my pain. 

Summary: (S2 episode 4 spoilers) You watch from a distance as Aemond and Vhagar send your husband and his dragon tumbling to the Earth. You land in the newly created clearing to find Aemond intent on murdering your beloved. 

Word count: 3,880

Trigger Warnings: 18+, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, canon typical incest, INCEST, age gap between reader and siblings because I needed it for a part of the plotline but I didn’t specify it, slightly obsessive reader, ig toxic codependency between reader and Aegon, unrequited love, angst, like a lot of angst, like ANGSTTTT, believing that a main character has died, Aemond Targaryen slander, (isn’t Aemond himself a warning??), SPOILERS: S2 Ep4, kinda smut? Like I describe the female body from a sexual male gaze, probs typos  (please let me know if I missed any) 

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not claim to own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so. 

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

Even as a child, Aemond sometimes believed himself incapable of love. Not in a bad way, he did not feel he lost much without it, simply that he was incapable of it. Alicent, in the rare moment she chose to spend her time with her children, would read a story all about love, and he would find he could not understand it. He simply couldn’t relate. He had warm feelings for Alicent, a certain care for Helaena to be sure, but it was always belied by a certain numbness in his heart. 

And then suddenly… there you were. In his mind you appeared out of the fire. Like a dragon rising out of the ashes it created. In reality, you had been born just as he was reaching maturity, the age when you finally started remembering things for the rest of your lifetime. He had stood outside of Alicent’s birthing chambers, anxiously waiting for her to come out and tell him everything was fine. He could hear her screams, guttural and animalistic. He had only ever heard the dragons make such sounds. And then there was silence, a long moment of silence he would never forget because he knew not whether Alicent was dead, the child dead, everyone dead but him. Then the cry of a child, loud and shrill and rather annoying. 

He had pressed his ear to the door to try and listen, but all he got was cooing and hushing and the clatter of tools and the sloshing of water. It was but ten minutes later he almost fell forward into the room when someone opened the door. Alicent lay on the bed, shining with sweat, her beautiful red hair spread out all over the pillows and her eyes closed as she took deep breaths. A nursemaid on the side beckoned him inside as she gently swayed with a bundle of cloth wrapped in her arms. He wasn’t sure who to go to at first, Alicent or the short chubby woman with red cheeks who smiled warmer than Alicent ever had. He chose the latter, his intense curiosity to see the child surely contained in the bundle of cloth in her arms far outweighing the concern he had once held for Alicent. 

The nurse maid simply handed a young Aemond a little bundle of blankets with your little baby face peeking out of it. He stared at the pinched little face, this wriggling creature that was red all over. He believed that that was the first time in his life he had felt real love. Oh, and when you grasped onto his finger with your little hand, he felt he had been placed in a hot pan to gently heat up from the inside-out. From that moment on he had loved you. He had loved you so dearly that sometimes he snuck into the nursery just to watch you sleep. 

You were small, innocent, like a fresh snowflake fallen into the palm of his hand. You were to be protected at all costs, for the rest of his life. He willingly took up the challenge. Your entire childhood seemed a collection of memories of Aemond. Aemond cheering you on as you called ‘dracarys!’ for the first time. Aemond chasing you around the halls of the red keep when you wanted to play. Aemond distracting you when Alicent couldn’t be bothered to be your mother…  

Though it began as something innocent, something brotherly and sweet, it seemed the Targaryen curse for it to grow out of control. Suddenly a few years passed and you had become a woman. And suddenly he could not keep his eyes off of you no matter how hard he tried. One night, some moons after your eighteenth nameday, he had come to your quarters to return a book he had stolen at some point during the day. Not realising that you had had a rather difficult day, that you had wished to bathe in peace, you had sent all your maids away. He had walked in on you rising from your bath. No one had been there to stop him or usher him out, and he had stood there, frozen, watching you jump and try to cover yourself with your hands before grabbing the robe left on one of the tables beside the bathtub. He had dropped his head, his remaining eye shuttering open and closed like the wings of a butterfly. A short and quick ‘my apologies’ left his mouth and he walked back out. But the image came with him. 

You, shiny and wet, glistening in the light of the fire. The sound of the water dripping off of you and back into the bathtub, little plink plink plink sounds as they hit the edges. Your hair, darkened at the edges and sticking haphazardly to the skin of your shoulders. Your breasts, your stomach, your thighs. The space between them that was just shadowed enough that he could only see the top where your lips began to separate… He could not sleep for days for fear of encountering the image again behind closed eyes, in the free land of his dreams.  

You were sweet, and kind, a bit of a miracle considering the situation you had been raised in, and it suddenly seemed an unfair expectation for him not to fall in love with you. Had you not been made for him? Crafted by the same womb to be his for eternity? You defied everyone with your kindness devoted to him. You made him smile with your smile, made him dance as you danced. You sang little songs you made up in your head and cuddled into his side so he could read to you in High Valyrian. You seemed just as attached to him as he was to you. You were perfect… except for one thing. What he considered your fatal flaw. Your unending, almost obsessive devotion to Aegon. 

Mayhaps you had had the same effect on Aegon as you had had with him. Maybe it was simply that you had slowly made Aegon partial to you by being that sweet creature that you were. Though he believed anything possible when it came to you, he was never quite sure how you had changed Aegon. If not for everyone, but at least for you. It was obvious to the eyes of those who could view into House Targaryen that Aegon, described by his closest family as a hedonistic wastrel, cared for you, took care of you, hid from you all the deficiencies of his character. No one could make head or tail of it. How did you differ from Helaena or Aemond or even distant Daeron? You, conceived exactly the same way as the others, related to him exactly the same way as the others, were no different to the siblings he already had. But he thought Helaena weird, thought Aemond a rather pathetic and easy target, didn’t think of Daeron at all, and viewed the rest of his life as an excuse to get drunk. Aemond believed it to be your kindness that, if capable of piercing his own stony disposition, could easily curl up around Aegon’s fragile heart and devote him to you.  

In truth, out of all of his siblings, you had simply been the one to truly love Aegon, whether he wanted it or not. You seemed to make up for all the love he lacked from every other person in his life. You saw him as the eldest, the one to look up to, the one to lavish with love and devotion in your position as the youngest. He would be the one to protect you, the one to treat you as his littlest and most loved one. Wishful or not, all the stories told you that this was his position. Though Aemond spent most of his time looking after you, being the protector, you did not seem to hold him in esteem for it. He was simply there. 

At first, Aegon had failed in these expectations of yours. He had not bothered to spend time with you, not bothered to indulge in the love you so freely offered him. He believed you were just another creature created by Alicent to look down upon him. Another person to disappoint with his shortcomings. He later considered those his lowest moments. But then he had seen the way your face fell when he had shooed you away, saw the way tears collected at the corners of your eyes when you offered him a flower and he had barely turned. Slowly, he began to humour you, smiling widely when you offered him the flower once more. Not shooing you away anymore, but simply telling you that he would come find you when he was available to do it. He pressed kisses to your little cheeks and tickled your stomach. And with this care returned, your devotion grew. 

He remembered vividly the first time he had truly noticed not only how much he cared for you, but how much you seemed to care for him in return. He had taken the blame for you once, when Alicent had walked into her living quarters and found a jug of wine spilled all over the floor. You had dropped it in your bid to reach up and grab it, hoping to sip from the jug though you weren’t allowed wine yet. Aegon had claimed it was him, that he was too drunk to see properly (when in fact he had been sober for the first time in a long time). He had been sent to bed without being allowed any dinner, and Alicent had raged at him for twenty minutes about his lack of duty, respect, propriety. But then you had snuck to his room after everyone had gone to bed with two plates filled to the brim with food. He felt he had never eaten better in his entire life. You had sat with him, giggling then shushing yourself as you looked up at him starry eyed. You seemed to give him all the kindness and love you possessed in your body, and he was ready to take. Frankly, he had nowhere else to get it from anyway. 

Maybe some part of you had always believed that you and Aegon were meant for each other, but you truly seemed to realise it the night Aemond read you the Targaryen histories. He had started at the beginning, telling you all about Aegon the Conqueror and his sister-wives. You had sat up on his bed, pulling out from under his arm and turning to face him as you listened, enraptured. As Aemond spoke of the love Aegon bestowed upon Rhaenys, you thought of your Aegon. Of course, it all made sense now, you were destined. He was Aegon, and you would be his sister-wife, his Rhaenys, meant to be as it was in the greatest of histories. 

When your dragons mated, your beauty and his Sunfyre, it felt cemented into fate. It would have to be so. The gods had deemed it. When Otto and the council began clamouring for the children to be married, particularly Aegon, Alicent had gone to pray every day in the sept for a fortnight before allowing your betrothal. You secretly believed that she was praying for the gods to intervene somehow but you knew they were the ones that had chosen this. 

When your betrothal was announced, it was the first time neither you nor he had complained about a decision made by Alicent or the council. Alicent had called all of you to her chambers, Aegon, Helaena, Aemond, and you, to announce it, and neither you nor Aegon had a word to say in dissent. You had simply turned to each other and nodded, little hidden smiles only visible in the dancing of your eyes. Of course neither of you noticed the way Aemond clenched his fists behind his back, or the stony glare he switched between Alicent and Aegon. He had come over, kissed you on the cheek and whispered his congratulations as you hugged him animatedly.  

Aegon had even kissed you for the first time the night of your betrothal ball, hidden in an alcove at the darkest part of the night, hands buried in your hair, tilting your head back and pressing his mouth to yours as if he wanted to devour you starting at the lips. He had whispered ‘I love you’s’ in your ear the entire evening and you danced with no one else. 

Aemond was not sure when you broke his heart the most. When you had gushed to him all evening about your elation at being betrothed to Aegon, when you had seemingly forgotten his existence the night of your betrothal ball, or the evening you announced you were pregnant with Jahaerys and Jahaera. 

People seemed to tread carefully around you after Jahaerys’s death. You believed this to be the reason you found out too late that Aegon had taken off to Rook’s Rest. 

Every day, at some random point in the day, you would seek out Aegon, and the both of you would sit curled up together eating biscuits, drinking wine, and comforting each other. In the aftermath of Jahaerys’s death you had thought that was a necessity lest he try and run from you in his grief. Though he had still bludgeoned the man to death, had still had all the ratcatchers hanged, you were simply happy that he did not hide from you. 

In that spirit, you had gone in search of him, only to find out he had left an hour ago to chase down the battle after conversing with Alicent. You were forced to waste a little more time to change into your riding clothes as your beauty was saddled, though you had abandoned the attempts of your ladies maids trying to pull an extra blouse over your head. You wore only a simple tunic over your chemise and ran for the dragonpit. 

You weren’t quite sure why the gods wanted to punish you so. Your baby, little Jahaerys, was his death not enough? You were late, but not late enough to be spared the vision from a distance of Aemond commanding Vhagar to attack Sunfyre and Aegon. Your heart was in your throat, choking you. Your grip on the reins loosened, and as you watched Sunfyre tumble down from the sky, your dragon shrieked and began flying even faster. You heard the crash, even from how far you were. Your hands were sweaty and cold, and suddenly you wanted nothing more than to be off the dragon. You began unclipping yourself from the saddle, ready to slip off and plummet to the ground. Your mind was running so fast you couldn’t grasp a thought, only saw what you saw, heard what you heard, and felt what you felt. There were no words. But you stopped yourself, clipped yourself back in, and let yourself be brought ever closer to Aegon in whatever condition you would find him. 

Aemond watched the forest floor burn around Aegon without a single feeling. He watched the embers on Aegon’s body, sizzling away at his hair and skin. He watched the soot gather on Aegon’s armour, watched Sunfyre huff and writhe in pain as the fire continued its relentless assault all over their bodies. He did not feel anything. No remorse, no fear, no sadness. There was no happiness either, no joy or elation. There was simply nothing. 

His sword was in his hand, pulled mostly out of the scabbard, when he heard rustling behind him. He turned slightly, just enough so his remaining eye could gaze on the intruder, and he saw you. At first he blinked, once and then twice to be sure you were there and not a mirage in the heat. But then he saw the way you were looking at him, the creases around your eyes and mouth as you gasped, mouth agape in pain. Your breaths were ragged, and you were still mostly hidden in the brush, but he could see your face so clearly, as if you had been outlined against the shrubbery. The face that he had watched grow out of its baby fat and into the shape of the young woman that you were. The face that had once smiled brightly in his direction and sought him out for comfort. The face that he had loved so dearly. The face that now burned with rage. 

“You-you traitor! You coward! You have no loyalty, no respect!” You sounded almost hysterical as you spoke, clambering over shrubbery and shattered branches. Aemond stared at you as you screamed at the top of your lungs, each word laced with the deepest pain one could possibly experience, a half-sob half-choking sound. Your cheeks were bright red and shiny with sweat, you had shed your riding coat and your grey pants were covered in sap from clambering over a tree trunk. Aemond thought you had never looked more beautiful. “You truly are self-serving, and-and cruel.” Each word hit him in the chest as if Vhagar was breathing fire directly at him. He would not care if it had not been you saying these words. His grip on his sword tightened as he watched you begin to shed tears (though you already had dried tracks down your cheeks), hurrying around and looking for a way through the circle of fire around Aegon and Vhagar. You turned to him for a moment, a singular moment, and his heart stopped dead at the way your face was contorted in pain and anger and pure hatred. Your eyebrows knitted by a crease above your nose bridge, your mouth pulling back at the corners and your eyes burning like wildfire. “You’re a monster.” 

The word seemed to echo in the forest, even above the sound of the fire. His mouth was slightly open, his breaths heaving as he stared at you with a sense of his body crumbling. Not once in the entire battle had he felt this close to devastation. Not once in his life. Even in the darkest nightmares he experienced, not once did he ever imagine you saying these words to him, to look at him so… 

Aemond had not once cared about Aegon’s wellbeing in his entire life. Even now, he did not care about it. If Aegon died he would not shed a tear. In all honesty, he would be more inclined to smile, but watching you walk through fire to get to that manic drunk’s body sent a spear through his heart. Why? Why were you so willing to succumb to your own death for that fool? Why, throughout your entire lives have you always chosen Aegon, when he was standing right here, ready, rather, impatient, to love you? He would have raised his sword and begun walking again, a certain defiance suddenly filling him to the brim, had it not been for the way you began to wail at the sight of Aegon. 

It was a wail of death. He did not think a person was capable of this sound. Around him in the forest, another high keening sound began. It was your dragon, head raised to the sky, mouth open and roaring like the pain was within her. Then, behind him, with the very ground rumbling as she rose, Vhagar raised her head to the sky and roared so loud that legend states it was heard from the Wall to the southernmost tip of Dorne. Even Sunfyre, with his last breaths, keened in pain and joined the cacophony. Aemond pressed his hands to his ears and waited for it to cease. A war was being waged on him, inside and out. 

He closed his eyes, trying to forget you, forget the pain you inflicted on him simply by being in pain, but the gods would not let him. 

You were on the floor now, hands shaking as you reached out to pull Aegon’s half-singed body onto your lap. You were caressing his hair, rocking back and forth and crying salty tears directly onto his wounds. Aemond could not move. However much he wanted to walk toward you, wanted to walk away from you, the gods had set him to his place. You turned your head up to look at him through the fire, shaking and hiccuping. Your eyes were so full with tears that he could only see light reflected in them. 

“What did you hope to get out of this?!” You sobbed, almost screaming with the pain. It was minutes before you could even speak again.“Did you expect I would suddenly love you? Did you think you could buy me with a crown?” 

There it was, finally out in the open. The truth both of you had danced around since you had become of marrying age. You had known, of course you had known, though he had never been overly blatant about it, it was obvious that he had favoured you. The night your betrothal to Aegon had been announced, Aemond had gone to Alicent to beg her to change it, to offer Aegon Helaena's hand instead. But she had been adamant. His grandsire and Viserys had stated that it would be best for Aegon to marry a sister, prattle about emulating Aegon the Conqueror and preserving the purity of the King’s bloodline. It made sense to marry him to the youngest. Helaena could still be used to marry for advantage, a second child but first daughter held more sway. 

He could see that secretly his mother was happy to betroth Aegon to you. She didn’t want her youngest daughter to leave. She was by far more attached to you than any of her other children, and if you hadn’t married Aegon you would’ve been sent off. One marriage between siblings was enough, the rest were simply assets in a bigger game. 

Now, as Aemond looked at you, he could see none of the love you had once bestowed on him. The face he had once longed to caress, the lips he had once wished to kiss, all appalled at the sight of him. You had never sneered at him this way before, never even turned your face or voice to him in a negative way before. Maybe this was a nightmare, and soon he would wake up, sweating and panting and looking around with fright, before seeking you out, happy to discover that you were still unmarried, and ready to cuddle him to sleep.

You clung to Aegon even tighter as you glared at Aemond through your tears, just a blurry black spot in a sea of green. “If I was even capable of loving a creature like you before you did this,” you spat with such venomous rage that even Vhagar bristled behind Aemond. “I am incapable of it now.” You turned your head back down to Aegoon, and seemed to curl your body around him like a dragon curling over her eggs. The edges of your dress caught fire and slowly began to burn but you let it, not even feeling the heat. 

Ser Criston found the three of you like that, as if suspended in time. 

Taglist: @summerposie, @izuoyarmin 

A/n: Tell me. Was Aemond or Reader right about why Alicent didn’t refuse the betrothal between reader and Aegon? 

[pucksandpower]

War Is Over

Lewis Hamilton x Rosberg!Reader

Summary: Lewis parks his car … right into his best friend-turned-nemesis’ little sister (and somehow reunites Brocedes in the process)

Warnings: descriptions of serious injury

Note: the fact that he not only won a race again but it was his home race … this calls for a Lewis Hamilton fic 🥹

The Monaco sun glints off sleek sports cars lining the streets as Lewis navigates his Mercedes through the winding roads. He’s running late for dinner with some sponsors and the traffic is only making things worse.

Lewis mutters under his breath, “Come on, come on. Just need to park this thing ...”

He spots an open space in front of the restaurant and starts to maneuver in, glancing at his watch. The ticking seconds only increase his frustration.

“Bloody hell, why is parking always such a nightmare here?”

Lewis throws the car into reverse, not bothering to look behind him. He’s done this a thousand times before. What could possibly go wrong?

The sickening thud comes a split second before he slams on the brakes. His heart leaps into his throat as he whips around, praying he just hit a trash bin or something.

But the crumpled form on the ground is undeniably human.

“Oh God, oh God, no ...” Lewis fumbles with his seatbelt, hands shaking as he bursts out of the car. “Please be okay, please be okay ...”

He drops to his knees beside the prone figure, a young woman with long hair obscuring her face. Blood is already pooling beneath her head.

“Miss? Can you hear me?” Lewis gently brushes the hair back, and his world stops.

It’s you. Nico’s little sister. The girl he’s known since she was in pigtails, cheering from the sidelines at their early karting races.

Lewis’ jaw drops open as the full horror of what he’s done sinks in. “Y/N? Oh God, Y/N, please wake up!”

He cradles your head, heedless of the blood staining his designer shirt. Your eyes remain closed, skin alarmingly pale.

“Someone call an ambulance!” Lewis shouts, his voice cracking with panic. “Please, somebody help!”

A crowd starts to gather, murmurs of shock and recognition rippling through them. Lewis barely notices, focused solely on your still form.

“Y/N, come on, open your eyes. Please, you have to be okay,” he pleads, gently patting your cheek. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you, I swear I didn’t mean to ...”

Your eyelids flutter, a soft groan escaping your lips. Lewis nearly sobs with relief.

“That’s it, that’s it. Can you hear me? It’s Lewis. You’re going to be alright.”

Your eyes open, unfocused and confused. “Lewis? What ... what happened?”

“Don’t try to move, okay? There was an accident. Help is on the way.”

You try to sit up, wincing in pain. “My head ...”

“Shh, just stay still. I’ve got you.” Lewis supports your shoulders, keeping you from moving too much.

“Did ... did you hit me with your car?” Your voice is small, disbelieving.

Lewis swallows hard. “I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t see you, I swear. God, Y/N, I would never ...”

You manage a weak smile. “Always knew you’d be the death of me, Hamilton.”

Despite everything, Lewis can’t help but chuckle. “Don’t joke about that. You scared me half to death.”

“Sorry to ruin your evening,” you mumble, eyes starting to drift closed again.

“Hey, hey, stay with me.” Lewis gently taps your cheek. “Keep those eyes open, okay? Talk to me.”

You force your eyes open. “About what?”

“Anything. Tell me ... tell me what you’re doing in Monaco. Are you visiting Nico?”

You shake your head slightly, then wince. “No, I ... I moved here. Got a job at the yacht club.”

“Really? That’s great. When did that happen?”

“Few months ago. Needed ... needed a change of scenery.”

Lewis nods, desperately trying to keep you engaged. “I get that. Monaco’s beautiful. Although the parking situation leaves something to be desired,” he adds wryly.

You manage a weak laugh, then grimace. “Ow. Don’t make me laugh.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Lewis glances around anxiously. “Where’s that damn ambulance?”

As if on cue, sirens wail in the distance. Lewis breathes a sigh of relief.

“Help’s coming, Y/N. Just hang on a little longer, okay?”

You nod slightly, eyes becoming unfocused again. “Lewis?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t tell Nico.”

Lewis’ heart clenches. “Y/N ...”

“Please. He’ll kill you. And then me. For being stupid enough to walk behind a car without looking.”

“This isn’t your fault,” Lewis insists. “I should have checked my mirrors. I was distracted, rushing ...”

You shake your head stubbornly. “Promise me. Don’t tell him.”

Lewis hesitates. “Y/N, I can’t just ...”

“Promise,” you repeat, gripping his arm with surprising strength.

Lewis sighs. “Okay, okay. I promise. But he’s going to find out eventually.”

“Let me handle it. When I’m not ... you know. Bleeding on the pavement.”

The ambulance pulls up, paramedics jumping out. Lewis reluctantly moves aside to let them work, hovering anxiously.

“Sir, can you tell us what happened?” One of the paramedics asks as they begin assessing your injuries.

Lewis runs a hand through his hair. “I ... I hit her with my car. I was backing up and didn’t see her. It was an accident, I swear.”

The paramedic nods, focused on taking your vitals. “Miss, can you tell me your name?”

“Y/N Rosberg,” you mumble.

The paramedic’s eyes widen slightly in recognition, but he remains professional. “Alright, Y/N. We’re going to get you to the hospital. Just try to stay still for me.”

As they prepare to move you onto a stretcher, Lewis steps forward. “Can I ride with her?”

The paramedic hesitates. “Are you family?”

“No, but I’m ... I’m responsible for this. Please, I need to make sure she’s okay.”

You reach out weakly, grasping Lewis’ hand. “Let him come. He’s ... he’s family.”

The paramedic nods. “Alright, but stay out of the way.”

As they load you into the ambulance, Lewis climbs in beside you, still holding your hand. The doors slam shut and the sirens wail as they speed towards the hospital.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Lewis says softly.

You give his hand a weak squeeze. “Couldn’t let you ... sulk all night. You’d probably ... crash into a street lamp next.”

Lewis chuckles despite himself. “There’s that Rosberg wit. You sound just like your brother sometimes.”

You grimace. “Don’t insult me when I’m down, Hamilton.”

The banter feels surreal given the circumstances, but Lewis is grateful for it. It keeps the crushing guilt at bay, if only for a moment.

“Y/N, I ...” he starts, then falters. “I don’t even know how to begin to apologize.”

You shake your head slightly. “Later. When everything ... stops spinning.”

Lewis nods, throat tight. He watches the paramedics work, feeling utterly helpless.

“Tell me something,” you murmur after a moment.

“What?”

“Anything. Distract me.”

Lewis thinks for a moment. “Did I ever tell you about the time Nico and I got lost in Ibiza?”

You manage a small smile. “No. Spill.”

As Lewis launches into the story, embellishing for comedic effect, he can’t help but marvel at your resilience. Here you are, cracking jokes and asking for stories while bleeding from a head wound he caused.

The guilt threatens to overwhelm him again, but he pushes it aside. Right now, keeping you conscious and calm is what matters. There will be time for apologies and recriminations later.

As the ambulance weaves through Monaco’s narrow streets, Lewis silently vows to make this right, whatever it takes. He may have destroyed his friendship with Nico, but he won’t let you pay the price for their rivalry.

The hospital looms ahead, and Lewis squeezes your hand. “We’re almost there, Y/N. You’re going to be okay. I promise.”

You meet his eyes, a flicker of something — trust? forgiveness? — passing between you. “I know,” you whisper. “I’ve got my guardian angel, after all. Even if he is a bit rubbish at parking.”

Lewis laughs, the sound catching in his throat. As they wheel you into the emergency room, he realizes with startling clarity that nothing will ever be the same after tonight.

But looking at your brave smile as the doctors surround you, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, that might not be such a bad thing.

***

The steady beep of the heart monitor fills the hushed hospital room. Lewis sits hunched in an uncomfortable chair beside your bed, his eyes never leaving your sleeping form. The stark white bandage wrapped around your head is a constant reminder of his guilt.

A nurse pops her head in. “Mr. Hamilton? There’s someone here to see-”

She’s cut off as Nico barges past her, his face a mask of fury. “You son of a bitch.“

Nico’s fist is already swinging towards Lewis’ face when a doctor in a white coat steps between them. “Gentlemen! This is a hospital, not a boxing ring!”

Nico’s momentum carries him forward, nearly stumbling into the doctor. He catches himself, chest heaving as he glares daggers at Lewis.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Nico snarls.

Lewis stands, hands raised placatingly. “Nico, I can explain-”

“Explain? Explain how you nearly killed my sister?” Nico’s voice rises, causing you to stir in the bed.

The doctor clears his throat. “Mr. Rosberg, I presume? I’m Dr. Moreau. Perhaps we should step outside to discuss your sister’s condition.”

Nico hesitates, clearly torn between getting information and pummeling Lewis. Finally, he nods curtly. “Fine. But this isn’t over, Hamilton.”

As they step into the hallway, Lewis sinks back into his chair, running a hand over his face. He glances at you, relieved to see you’ve settled back into sleep.

In the corridor, Dr. Moreau speaks in low, measured tones. “Mr. Rosberg, your sister suffered a severe concussion and a fractured skull. There was some internal bleeding, but we’ve managed to stabilize that.”

Nico’s knees go weak, and he leans against the wall for support. “Oh God ...”

“She also has three broken ribs, a fractured wrist, and various cuts and bruises,” the doctor continues. “Frankly, it’s a miracle she wasn’t more seriously injured. The impact could easily have been fatal.”

Nico slides down the wall, sitting heavily on the floor. “She ... she almost died?”

Dr. Moreau nods gravely. “It was touch and go for a while. But she’s young and strong. With time and proper care, we expect her to make a full recovery.”

Nico buries his face in his hands, shoulders shaking. After a moment, he looks up, eyes red-rimmed. “Can I see her?”

“Of course. But please, try to stay calm. She needs rest.”

Nico nods, pulling himself to his feet. He takes a deep breath before re-entering the room.

Lewis stands as Nico approaches the bed. “Nico, I-”

“Save it,” Nico snaps, but there’s less venom in his voice now. He gently takes your hand, his thumb tracing circles on your palm.

Your eyes flutter open. “Nico?” You mumble groggily.

“Hey, little sis,” Nico says softly, managing a weak smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a car,” you deadpan.

Lewis winces, but Nico actually chuckles. “Well, your sense of humor is intact, at least.”

You try to sit up, grimacing in pain. Lewis and Nico both move to help, then freeze, glaring at each other.

You roll your eyes. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. Both of you, help me up. And then explain why you look ready to kill each other. Again.”

With their combined efforts, they manage to prop you up against the pillows. You look expectantly between them.

Nico breaks first. “How can you even ask that? He nearly killed you!”

“It was an accident,” you insist.

“An accident?” Nico scoffs. “He hit you with his car!”

“Which I’m pretty sure he didn’t do on purpose,” you retort. “Right, Lewis?”

Lewis nods emphatically. “God, no. Y/N, I swear, I never saw you. I was distracted, rushing ... but I would never intentionally hurt you. You have to believe that.”

Nico’s jaw clenches. “Maybe not intentionally. But your carelessness nearly cost my sister her life. How am I supposed to forgive that?”

“You don’t have to forgive me,” Lewis says quietly. “I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive myself. But Y/N is the one who was hurt. Shouldn’t it be her choice?”

You nod, wincing at the movement. “Exactly. And I choose to forgive you, Lewis. It was an accident. A stupid, awful accident, but still an accident.”

Nico shakes his head in disbelief. “Y/N, you can’t be serious. You’re lying in a hospital bed because of him!”

“And he’s been by my side ever since,” you counter. “He rode in the ambulance with me, held my hand through all the tests and scans. He’s barely left this room in hours.”

Lewis looks down, uncomfortable with the praise. “It was the least I could do.”

Nico runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. “That doesn’t change what happened.”

“No, it doesn’t,” you agree. “But it shows he cares. That he’s taking responsibility.”

“I’ll pay for all her medical expenses,” Lewis adds quickly. “And anything else she needs for her recovery. It’s the least I can do.”

Nico snorts. “You think you can just throw money at this and make it go away?”

“No!” Lewis insists. “I know nothing can undo what happened. But I want to help however I can.”

You reach out, grabbing both their hands. “Listen to me, both of you. I’m tired, I’m in pain, and I don’t have the energy for your macho posturing right now.”

They both have the grace to look ashamed.

“Nico, I love you, but you need to calm down,” you continue. “Lewis made a mistake, a big one. But he’s trying to make amends. And frankly, I need both of you right now. I can’t deal with you at each other’s throats on top of everything else.”

Nico’s expression softens. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I just ... when I got that call, saying you were in the hospital ... I’ve never been so scared in my life.”

You squeeze his hand. “I know. But I’m okay. Or I will be. And having you two fighting isn’t going to help me get better any faster.”

Lewis clears his throat. “She’s right. Nico, I know you have every right to hate me right now. But can we please call a truce? For Y/N’s sake?”

Nico hesitates, clearly torn. Finally, he nods stiffly. “Fine. A truce. But only for Y/N.”

“Thank you,” you sigh, relaxing back against the pillows. “Now, can one of you please get me some water? And maybe sneak in some real food? I’m starving and the hospital jello isn’t cutting it.”

Lewis jumps up. “I’ll go. Nico, you stay with her. I’ll be right back.”

As Lewis hurries out, Nico settles into the chair beside your bed. “You sure you’re okay, little sis?”

You manage a small smile. “I’ve been better. But I’ve also been worse.”

Nico raises an eyebrow. “When have you been worse than having a cracked skull and broken ribs?”

“Remember when I was eight and fell out of that tree in the backyard?”

Nico chuckles. “God, I thought Mama was going to have a heart attack. You were so stubborn, insisting you could climb higher than me.”

“Still can,” you tease.

“Maybe hold off on the tree climbing for a while, yeah?”

You pretend to pout. “Spoilsport.”

The banter feels good, normal. For a moment, you can almost forget you’re in a hospital bed.

Nico’s expression turns serious. “Y/N, are you really okay with forgiving Lewis so easily? You don’t have to, you know. Not for my sake or anyone else’s.”

You sigh. “I know. And believe me, I’m not thrilled about the whole getting hit by a car thing. But Nico, you should have seen his face when he realized it was me. He was devastated.”

“He should be,” Nico grumbles.

“I’m not saying there won’t be consequences,” you continue. “But I don’t believe for a second he meant to hurt me. And holding onto anger isn’t going to help me heal any faster.”

Nico studies your face for a long moment. “When did you get so wise, little sister?”

You grin. “I’ve always been the smart one in the family. You were just too busy crashing karts to notice.”

Nico laughs, then sobers. “I was so scared, Y/N. When they called and said you were in the hospital ... all I could think was that I couldn’t lose you.”

You squeeze his hand. “Hey, you’re not getting rid of me that easily. It’ll take more than Lewis Hamilton’s terrible parking skills to take out a Rosberg.”

“Don’t joke about that,” Nico says, but he’s smiling.

Lewis returns then, arms laden with bags. “I wasn’t sure what you’d want, so I got a bit of everything. Sandwiches, fruit, some pasta salad ... oh, and chocolate. Lots of chocolate.”

You beam at him. “My hero.”

Nico rolls his eyes, but there’s less hostility in it now. “Is this really the time for sweets?”

Lewis grins sheepishly. “Hey, chocolate has healing properties. I read that somewhere.”

“Sounds like solid medical advice to me,” you chime in, already reaching for a candy bar.

As Lewis unpacks the food, a tentative peace settles over the room. It’s fragile, built on shared concern for you rather than any real reconciliation between the two men. But it’s a start.

You watch them, noting how they unconsciously mirror each other’s movements as they fuss over arranging the food on your tray. For all their differences, for all the bad blood between them, there’s still an underlying connection there. Years of friendship and rivalry can’t be erased so easily.

“You know,” you say around a mouthful of sandwich, “this whole arch-enemies thing you two have going on is getting a bit old.”

They both look at you, startled.

“I mean, come on,” you continue. “You were best friends for years. You’ve known each other longer than most marriages last. Is it really worth throwing all that away over some stupid trophies?”

Nico frowns. “Y/N, it’s more complicated than that-”

“Is it, though?” You interrupt. “Because from where I’m sitting — or laying, I guess — it seems pretty simple. You both love racing. You’re both insanely competitive. And yeah, sometimes that caused friction. But at the end of the day, who else understands what you have been through better than each other?”

Lewis and Nico exchange uncomfortable glances.

“I’m not saying you have to be best buddies again,” you add. “But maybe ... I don’t know. Maybe you could try not actively hating each other? For my sake, if nothing else. I’m going to need both of you while I recover and I really don’t want to deal with World War III breaking out in my hospital room.”

There’s a long moment of silence. Finally, Lewis speaks up.

“She’s right,” he says quietly. “Nico, I know things have been ... difficult between us. And I know this situation hasn’t helped. But Y/N’s important to both of us. Can we at least try to be civil? For her?”

Nico hesitates, then nods slowly. “I suppose we can try. But Lewis, I swear, if anything like this ever happens again-”

“It won’t,” Lewis says firmly. “I promise you, Nico. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.”

You beam at them both. “See? Was that so hard? Now, who’s going to help me eat all this food? Doctor’s orders, you know. Got to keep my strength up.”

As they both reach for the tray, playfully battling over who gets to hand you what, you can’t help but smile. It’s not perfect, not by a long shot. But it’s a beginning.

And really, you think as you watch the two most important men in your life grudgingly share a bag of crisps, sometimes beginnings are the best part of any story.

***

f1-fanatic-2024

[Image: Lewis Hamilton and Nico Rosberg exiting a hospital, walking side by side]

OMG IS THIS REAL??? Brocedes spotted together??? What year is it???

#what is happening #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #brocedes

---

brocedes-no1-stan

[reblogging f1-fanatic-2024’s post]

I’m sorry, but are we just going to ignore the fact that they’re leaving a HOSPITAL??? Is everyone okay???

#concerned #hope everyone’s alright #but also lowkey excited

---

vintage-f1-vibes

Okay but why does this feel like a glitch in the matrix? Haven’t seen these two willingly in the same frame since like 2016 😭

#blast from the past #what year is it #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg

---

racing-queen-93

[reblogging f1-fanatic-2024’s post]

BROCEDES RISE!!! 🙌🙌🙌

My 2014 heart is SOARING right now. Never thought I’d see the day. BRB, gonna go cry in a corner.

#i’m not crying you’re crying #brocedes #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #f1

---

silverarrows4ever

[Image set: Multiple angles of Lewis and Nico leaving the hospital, including one where they appear to be mid-conversation]

New Brocedes content in 2024? Maybe miracles do happen 😭

But seriously, hope everything’s okay. Weird to see them at a hospital.

#concerned but hopeful #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #f1 #brocedes

---

formula1-history-nerd

[reblogging silverarrows4ever’s post]

Okay, but can we talk about how neither of them has aged a day??? What kind of vampire magic-

#aging like fine wine #drop the skincare routine boys #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg

---

racingdaydreams

Me: I’m over Brocedes, that ship has sailed

Also me seeing these pics: 🥺👉👈

#i’m weak okay #f1 #brocedes #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg

---

fastcarsgovroomvroom

[reblogging f1-fanatic-2024’s post]

Everyone freaking out about Brocedes and I’m just wondering why they’re at a hospital??? Hope everyone’s okay!

#f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg

---

f1-drama-central

BREAKING: Lewis Hamilton and Nico Rosberg spotted leaving Princess Grace Hospital together. Sources say they arrived separately but left at the same time, engaging in what appeared to be civil conversation. More updates as the story develops!

#breaking news #what’s the tea #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg

---

retro-racing-vibes

[reblogging f1-drama-central’s post]

2014 me is SCREAMING right now. 2024 me is cautiously optimistic but also kind of worried because ... hospital?

#conflicted feelings #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #brocedes

---

formulaonefanatic

[Image: Close-up of Lewis and Nico talking, both with serious expressions]

Whatever brought them together, it looks serious. Hoping everyone’s okay. But also ... is it wrong that I’m a little excited to see them talking again?

#concerned but intrigued #brocedes #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg

***

f1-gossip-central

[Image set: Lewis, Nico, and Y/N on Lewis’ yacht. Another photo of Lewis kissing Y/N with Nico cringing in the background]

WHAT IS HAPPENING??? Lewis and Nico on the same boat??? Lewis kissing Nico’s sister??? I need answers!!!

#what timeline is this #i’m shook #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #y/n rosberg

---

brocedes-ride-or-die

[reblogging f1-gossip-central’s post]

EXCUSE ME??? Lewis and Y/N??? When did this happen??? How did I miss this??? 😱😱😱

#new ship alert #what is happening #f1 #lewis hamilton #y/n rosberg

---

vintage-f1-drama

Okay but Nico’s face in that last pic is sending me 💀💀💀 Big protective brother energy

#siblings be like #f1 #nico rosberg #lewis hamilton #y/n rosberg

---

formulaoneobsessed

[Image: Close-up of Lewis kissing Y/N]

New F1 power couple alert? 👀 But also, how is Nico okay with this?

#f1 #lewis hamilton #y/n rosberg #nico rosberg

---

racingheartstrings

[reblogging formulaoneobsessed’s post]

I can’t decide if this is the best or worst plot twist of the 2024 season 😂

Either way, I’m here for the drama!

#pass the popcorn #f1 #lewis hamilton #y/n rosberg #nico rosberg

---

silverarrowsforever

[Image set: Lewis and Nico chatting on the yacht, looking relaxed]

Can we talk about how this is the most relaxed we’ve seen these two together in YEARS??? Whatever’s happening, it seems to be healing old wounds and I’m here for it 🙌

#f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #brocedes

---

f1-fanfiction-addict

Me: furiously rewriting all my Brocedes fics to include Y/N

The plot twist we never saw coming 😅

#f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #y/n rosberg #fanfiction problems

---

speed-queen-101

[reblogging f1-gossip-central’s post]

Y’all are focused on the Lewis and Y/N kiss but can we appreciate how GOOD everyone looks??? That Monaco sun is doing wonders 😍

#glow up #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #y/n rosberg

---

formula1-history-buff

Imagine telling someone in 2016 that in 2024, Lewis would be dating Nico’s sister and they’d all be hanging out on Lewis’ yacht. They’d think you were crazy!

#how times change #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #y/n rosberg

---

racingdaydreams

[Image: Nico’s cringing face as Lewis kisses Y/N]

Tag yourself, I’m Nico 😂

#third wheel vibes #f1 #nico rosberg #lewis hamilton #y/n rosberg

---

fastcarsgovroomvroom

[reblogging racingdaydreams’ post]

Petition for a reality show following this trio because I would watch the HECK out of that

#make it happen netflix #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #y/n rosberg

---

f1-drama-queen

THEORY TIME: What if the hospital visit from last week was for Y/N??? And that’s what brought Lewis and Nico back together??? 🤔

#conspiracy theory #but makes sense #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #y/n rosberg

---

brocedes-forever

[Image set: Lewis and Nico laughing together on the yacht]

My Brocedes heart is THRIVING right now. Yeah, the Lewis and Y/N thing is cute, but look at these two 😭❤️

#f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #brocedes #friendship goals

[chaosandmarigolds]

Dad!Simon who insisted you go on the vacation, because of course he can handle his baby girl and his six year old (almost six, but Ollie rounds up)

Simon who knew he had it in the bag....

for about two hours

Simon who made bagels for dinner; wassss this close 🤏to making Ollie eat dirt because WHAT DO YOU MEAN you don't like bagels now you were begging for them in the store!

Simon who made it about forty hours before he gave him and called Johnny

Simon who had no idea why Ollie was being so gosh darn annoying

Simon who had previously made a bet with Price that he wouldn't need help so therefore he would rather die than call Price even though Ollie idolizes his 'grandfather'

''s Johnny, missed ya but leave a message at the lil' beep."

"John MacTavish I swear to god if you don' call me back in ten minutes I will personally post thos' pictures of ya in Afgan."

two minutes later-

"ya know that's a real low blow-"

"I need you to take Oliver to th' park- Tessie isn't goin to sleep with him 'roun."

"Call the capn, he's closer to ya."

"I will not do that."

"Ugh, fine- lemme tell my girl then'll be there in twenty."

Simon who told Oliver to behave for his uncle and then happily sent them away- which finally he would be able to put the exhausted newborn to sleep

Simon was finally able to doze off on the sofa, the baby happily snoozing away on his chest and everything seemed perfect with the world

"MISTER RILEY UNCLE JOHNNY IS IS-HES-" The thundering slam of the door being swung open not only woke up Simon but the baby who aptly began to sob to the sudden change of pace, Oliver however did not care "UNCLE JOHNNY SUCKS."

Uncle Johnny told Ollie not to kick the ball into the river

Simon who is flabbergasted because even Johnny looked shook to his core, sure they had been at the park for about five hours but like-???

John MacTavish...brought down .... by Simon's six year old

Simon who, after ten minutes of the baby screaming for their mother and refusing to take their bottle with disgruntled wails of pain and Ollie so tired he can't think straight so he's also a sobbing and angry disaster and Johnny's just standing there by the door waiting for answers and everything is so loud-

"Capn?"

"Oh! Hi, sweetheart," John's wife answered the landline and he could hear her voice call for her husband, "Hi, how are you and lil' ones?"

Simon looked at Ollie who was currently in time out for stealing his sisters binkie for the tenth time, "Not great."

"O-"

"Simon." Price's voice cut in and it took about five seconds to get everything account for, "Ya already called Johnny right?"

"Yessir."

"Did you try Kyle?"

"No sir, he's on his honeymoon."

'"Ah-that's right, that's right."

Silence

"Sir I would like your help."

"Ha! Knew it! Alrighty, missus and I'll be there in...i dunno- you boys hungry? She made that-honey whatcha make?" indistinct conversation, "Ma'am said it didn't matter, she'll bring it anyway. Forty minutes?"

Simon looked at Johnny, who was on 'keep ollie in said time out' picking up the kid whenever he would try and run off. "Can you make it twenty, sir?"

Simon and Johnny who, out of habit, stood at attention as soon at the captain let himself into the house

Simon who looked a bit worse for wear, even with his non existant sleep scheulde in the military he had never looked so fatigued

Simon who had the baby out of his arms by Price's wife within two minutes of them being there

Simon who loves his son, he loves him (internal mantra) but he is making him look bad to his captain so the little twerp better get his act together.

"Riley."

"Yessir."

"How long is your block?"

"Two kilometers around."

"Two laps."

faltering silence through the house, Simon stared at the captain as he helped Ollie tie his sneakers by the door. The silence did mean Tessie had finally fallen asleep but he was- "I'm sorry?"

"Two laps, you, Johnny, and Oliver." Price looked to the kid, who looked more angry at the world than anything else, "Go. Dinner will be ready when you get back."

Simon was about to argue but Ollie beat him to it, "I don't want to run."

"You don't want to run?"

Oliver seemed a bit taken back, "No. So I'm not going to."

"Okay. You can clean the entire house- including your sisters nappy's, for a week, yeah?"

A pause.

"Fine, i'll go on the stupid run."

Simon who might as well be walking with the pace Oliver chose to keep

Johnny who took off sprinting because lord knew that man was starving and Mrs. Price's food was heaven on earth

Simon who sat down on the side of the road when the little guy was out of breath

Simon that mostly ran in silence until Ollie broke it

"Why did mom leave?"

huh?

"What?"

"Mom she-she just...she left us, wh-"

"Whoa-whoa whoa, mum didn't leave-mum didn't leave us wh-whoa, Olls," he had collapsed to his knee when the boy started to speak just to look at him in the eyes and he tried to read the boys expression, "Mum would never leave you, she loves you so much."

"Then where did she go?? Why didn't she say goodbye?"

"She's with her friends, and her flight left 'fore you woke up, Olls. Laddie, she wouldn't leave you."

Simon who had called you, even though there was time difference as everyone was sitting down to eat dinner

"oh...wow the gang's back together," You grumble as you rub your eyes, having been dead asleep, only for the camera angle to change suddenly and it was just a close up angle of your son's face, "Hi baby."

"Mom guess what Uncle Johnny did."

"EY, LET'S NOT TELL YER MOM BOUT THAT."

"Hey mom?" The boy was easily distracted and then looked down at the phone again.

"Yeah baby?"

"Never go on away again, dad said so."

You stay silent for a moment, blinking, because in all three years you and Simon had been together Ollie had never referred to him as 'dad' or anything remotely close. "Your...right, yeah-I'm pretty bored here anyway."

Simon, who was fine with you going on little getaways just not anymore how dare you try and leave him alone

"You sure it's okay if I stay a few more days?"

With a short laugh he looks over the living room, where Johnny and Olls were fast asleep watching some cartoon he didn't know the name of while John and His wife had chosen to stay in the guest room for the night. It would hell if you stayed for a few more days.

"Of course, luv, I got the boys an' Tessie needs to learn who they are anyway."

"I guess. Okay, the ride is here. I love you."

"I love you more."

(annnnway that's it <333 any comments you wanna leave or anything like that makes my day!)

[d-targaryenshoe]

Pinkish Clouds - Anthony Bridgerton

Word count: 1515

Summary: It is very precious to watch your husband take responsibility as a father, is it not?

As the first rays of sunlight streamed through the drapes, Y/n Bridgerton, wife of Anthony, stirred in your sumptuous bed. 

The soft linens, embroidered with intricate floral patterns, caressed your skin like the gentle touch of a spring breeze. The scent of lavender filled your nostrils, a welcome aroma that signified a new beginning. 

You stretched your limbs, the memory of the labor pains you endured the day before still fresh in your mind. 

But as you lay there, lost in thought, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of contentment and accomplishment.

You opened your eyes, taking in the familiar surroundings of your chamber. 

To your left, a fireplace crackled, its warmth banishing the morning chill. To your right, a large window overlooked the immaculately manicured gardens beyond. 

And beside your bed, your sisters-in-law, Eloise and Daphne, sat in quiet conversation, their laughter tinkling like bells.

You felt a pang of affection for the two women who had become such an important part of your life since your marriage to Anthony. 

Eloise, the youngest of the two, had always been somewhat of a sympathy to her. 

With her smart mind and independent soul, she was a far cry from the demure, obedient society ladies you had grown up with. 

Yet, there was no denying the deep bond that existed between them. As for Daphne, she was sweet-natured, charming, and utterly irresistible. 

As you sat up in bed, your sisters-in-law turned to you, their faces alight with curiosity and excitement. 

"Good morning, y/n," they chorused, beaming at you. "How do you feel?"

You smiled weakly. "A bit exhausted, to be honest. But otherwise, I'm doing well. How are you two?"

Eloise shrugged.

 "We're fine. Daphne's been keeping me company while you were asleep. It's been rather dull if I'm being fair." She glanced at her sister, her expression teasing.

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Oh, hush. I've been enjoying myself. Again, we have something rather important to discuss." She leaned in conspiratorially.

 "Mother has been pacing the hallway for hours. I think she's tense to see the new addition to the family. I'm sure she'll be in soon." 

As if on cue, a knock was heard at the door. "That must be her now," Daphne said, her face lighting up with anticipation.

Eloise rose from her seat and crossed the room to answer the door. You, feeling slightly more awake now, sitting up straighter in bed, wondering what your mother-in-law had in store for you today. 

As Eloise swung the door open, a warm, familiar figure filled the entrance.

 "Mother!" Daphne cried out, leaping to her feet. "We've been waiting for you."

Violet Bridgerton, the family matriarch, surveyed the scene with a delighted smile. 

"My, my," she said, her eyes twinkling. "It seems I've missed quite a bit. A new baby, I hear." 

She glanced at you, her expression softening into one of motherly concern. "And how are you feeling, dear? Are you in need of anything?"

You felt a lump form in your throat as you looked at the woman who had become your second mother since marrying Anthony. 

Violet was everything a lady should be, gracious, elegant, and utterly devoted to her family. 

She was also fiercely protective of them, always making sure they were well cared for and safe. 

As you struggled to find the words to express your gratitude, all you could do was manage a small smile. "I'm doing well, thank you. Your presence is all the comfort I need."

Her sisters-in-law exchanged knowing glances, clearly understanding the depth of emotion behind your words. 

They each took turns leaning in to kiss Violet's cheek, expressing their own gratitude for her love and support. 

As they did so, the room seemed to fill with a palpable sense of warmth and affection.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," Violet said, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Now, I have a special gift for you and the baby. I've been working on it for months." 

She reached into her reticule and pulled out a small, delicately wrapped package, which she placed in your lap. "It's not much, but I hope you'll like it."

Your curiosity piqued, and you gently unwrapped the package, revealing a beautiful, hand-stitched blanket adorned with intricate lacework. 

"Oh, Violet, it's lovely!" you exclaimed, your voice breaking with emotion. "I will cherish it always." 

Tears began to form in your eyes as you clutched the blanket to your chest. "Thank you, thank you so much."

Eloise and Daphne exchanged knowing smiles. They knew that this gift, more than anything else, symbolized Violet's acceptance of you as one of her own.

 It was a symbol of the love and support that you all shared as a family.

As they continued to stand there, the room seemed to fill with a sense of peace and contentment. 

Even though there was still so much that needed to be done, for this brief moment, you were all together, united in your love for one another.

"Now, girls," Violet said, her voice soft and gentle, "I've been thinking. Perhaps you would like to help y/n with something?" 

Her suggestion was met with nods of agreement from Eloise and Daphne. 

They had been itching to help out but had wanted to give their mother time to bond with you first.

"Would you like us to help you get out of bed?" Eloise asked, her tone reassuring. "We could help you down to the sitting room to see Anthony and the baby." 

Your face lit up at the thought, and you quickly nodded your consent. The two sisters moved forward, each taking an arm to assist you as you slowly rose from the bed. 

Once you were upright, they were beginning to guide you toward the sitting room.

The hallway was long and winding, the walls adorned with paintings that told the story of the family's history.

 As you made your way down the hall, you could hear the faint strains of music drifting towards you. 

It was the same waltz you had danced to at your wedding, the one that always made your heart skip a beat. 

The closer you got, the more the music seemed to swirl around you, pulling you forward with irresistible force.

Finally, you reached the sitting room, its windows overlooking the lush gardens beyond. 

The room was lit by soft candlelight, casting a warm glow over the gathered family. 

Anthony was dancing slowly with your newborn baby, his eyes never leaving the child's face as he moved in perfect harmony with the music. 

Eloise and Daphne guided you to a comfortable chair by the window, where you could watch the scene unfold before you.

As you all watched, you could feel a lump forming in your throat. It was so beautiful to see your husband dancing with your child, their love for each other shining through every movement. 

You could see the resemblance between them, both of them with Anthony's dark hair and eyes. 

The baby's tiny fingers curled around Anthony's finger as if she were already familiar with the feeling of being held so close.

Your sisters-in-law took seats on either side of you, their hands clasped together in their laps. 

They smiled at you, understanding the depth of emotion that you were feeling at that moment.

 It was a precious moment, one that you would all cherish for the rest of your lives.

As Anthony finished his dance with the baby, he came over to you all, his face flushed with happiness and exhaustion. 

He bent down to kiss your forehead, his touch sending a wave of warmth through your body.

 "I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I wanted to be the first one to hold her, and I did not want to wake you."

"It's all right," you replied softly, your eyes never leaving his face. "I know you were with her." Anthony smiled at you, a tear trickling down his cheek. 

He reached out and took your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I've been thinking," he said, hesitating for a moment before continuing, "That we should have a naming ceremony for the baby. Something small and intimate, just for our closest friends and family. What do you think?"

Your heart swelled with joy at the thought. You turned to your sisters-in-law, your face alight with excitement.

 "That sounds excellent," you said, your voice shaking slightly with emotion. "I would adore that." 

"Then it's settled," Anthony declared, his voice strong and sure. "We'll have the ceremony next weekend. Everyone will be here to celebrate with us."

 He leaned down to kiss your forehead again before returning to his daughter, who had fallen asleep in his arms.

As you all watched Anthony gently rock the child in his arms, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. 

You were home, surrounded by the people she loved most in the world. And despite the challenges that lay ahead, she knew that they would face them together, as a family.

[evie-sturns]

𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐱 - 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

summary: matt's been showing you less attention recently, all your emotions hit you at once while your alone in your apartment, but matt shows up.

contains: fluff (a lot), smut (matt the munch), crying, swearing.

-----------------------°°••....••°°----------------———-

it's been 2 days since matt's reached out, he hasn't texted, called, not a single word from him. 2 days isn't that long, but he's been distant lately.

i'm laying alone in my bed, the house is empty and obnoxiously silent. whenever i'm alone my emotions get the best of me, i hate crying in front of people.

i roll over, my eyes flick up to the time, 11:47pm. i let out a deep sigh as i see an Instagram notification appear.

'matthew.sturniolo made a post'

i click on it, liking it as i scroll through the mutiple pictures, its him ,nick, and this other girl ive never seen before. my heart sinks as i see his hand, which seems to be holding her hip.

"what the fuck.." i groan, wiping my eyes, everything makes alot more sense now.

everything hits at once, i feel the tears start, after a few seconds it turns into sobbing, my mascara streaking down my face.

abrubtly the door to my room creaks open, i slam my phone down, launching my body up.

its matt.

i instantly lie back down, rolling my body over so my back faces the door. "hey y/n!!" he says, unaware.

he turns on the light, i pull my blanket up over my head, holding my breath as i try to slow the tears, it doesnt work, instead a loud sob escapes my mouth.

i hear matt pause before he speed walks over to my side of the bed, he pulls the blankets off of my face, im met with his face, worry painted across his face.

"oh fuck, are you okay sweetheart?" he says, cupping my face with his hands as he leans over me bed.

"go away matt." i say in between crys.

he places a kiss to my forehead before walking over to the other side of my bed, crawling in next to me.

"matt i said go away-" i say, raising my voice but he cuts me off.

"shh.. i know i know" he says, wrapping a hand arounds my waist and tugging me close to him. "talk to me please." he says, anxiety clear in his voice.

i cuddle close to his side, laying my head under his armpit as i drape a thigh over his. he rubs my arm as he waits for me to answer.

"you havent.. talked to me.. in 2 days." i say in between sobs. i feel matt tense under me, "i know, youve been on my mind the whole time but ive been unbearably busy, you know i love you gorgeous." he says shakily,

"don't lie matt!" i raise my voice.

"y/n, stop it please." he says, his voice stern.

"no!" i yell, matt holds me close to him as i try to move away from him. his grip firm, but not painful on me.

"you were holding her!" i shout, matt's eyebrows furrow.

"y/n, who. who was i holding."

"that girl in your post." i mumble with a deep sigh.

"who, cassie? that's nates little sister, you know Nathan." matt closes his eyes as he plants a kiss in my hair.

i go silent, feeling slightly humiliated. "oh." i say, my voice breaking.

"can i show you how much i love you." he whispers, playing with my bra strap. i nod as matt pulls my blanket off me.

when matt and i usually hook up, we both put in equal effort, but matts made it very clear he doesnt want me to do anything.

"get comfortable," he says, slowly pulling down my sweat shorts until they bunch at my ankles. he taps my hip, signalling for me to lift it up, i comply, raising my torso off the bed. matt places a pillow under my lower back.

"you ready?" he asks softly, maintaining eye contact. "y-yes.. please."

matt spreads my legs, positioning his head between my legs, he places gentle kisses on my inner thighs, getting closer to my heat each time, i feel goosebumps form on my body as he places a light kiss on my clit, which is covered by my panties.

he reaches his palm to my legs, spreading them further. "good girl," he says, his breath hitting my inner thighs. he reaches his two finger up, pulling my panties to the side. he blows out cold air directly onto my clit.

a soft moan escapes my mouth.

he licks a stripe from my hole to my clit, i move my body into his mouth, desperate for more, his noses brushing against my pelvic bone. he grabs my hip with his spare hand, reaching two fingers down and teasing me.

"please!" i whine, squirm slightly, he grips onto my hip tighter before pressing two fingers inside of me. "oh my fuck.." i groan as he slowly pumps his fingers in and out of me.

i throw my head back, reaching my hand down and interlocking my hands with his hair. his mouth attaches to my clit, a desperate moan exiting my mouth as he continues to curl his fingers inside of me.

"im gonna c-" i whine, gripping his hair tighter, i clench around his fingers, releasing. matt slowly pulls his fingers out of me as he raises his head up, looking at me. his cheeks are flushed, a small amount of white painted on his cheek.

he places on last peck on my sensitive clit, before wiping his face. "you okay?" he asks, his voice barely audible as i catch my breath. "yeah.." i mumble, "thank you matt".

matt gets out of bed, walking over to my side of the bed and picking me up, cradling me as he walks us into his bathroom. "you're perfect ya know?" matt says, turning on the bath. after a few minutes he places me down in the tub, his hand on the back of my head so i don't hit my head.

he sits on the edge of the bath, still trying to wipe his face clean.

"im sorry matt."

"what no, its fine i like it?" he says defensivley.

"no, im not talking about the mess i made on your face, im sorry for yelling at you earlier."

——-----------------°°••....••°°---------------------——

[pitchsidestories]

Picture You II Fridolina Rolfö x Engen!Reader

masterlist I word count: 2480

a/n: hi, we had this idea for quite a while now and finally got to writing it down, we hope you enjoy it.

Fridolina Rolfö had no explanation for why her relationships always failed.

Her boyfriend of two years had broken up with her out of nowhere and as much as she wanted to feel sad about it, there was some kind of apathy taking over her.

Coincidentally, her teammates had scheduled a team bonding event only a few days after she was dumped.

In hopes that it would ease her pain and appease the younger players, they decided on an ice cream party.

That was how Fridolina found herself sitting in front of a bowl of vanilla ice cream while her teammates uttered words of reassurance to her that she did not want to hear.

“Don’t worry, Frido. We’ll find you a man who’s worthy of you.“ Mapi grinned while pouring sprinkles on top of her chocolate ice cream.

Fridolina looked up at the defender: “Oh… uhm… thanks.“

“Men are so overrated though.“, Cata rolled her eyes.

“Can we change the topic?“, Fridolina asked carefully. She did not want to ruin the mood but she hoped to draw the attention away from herself.

Ingrid gave her a gentle smile, ready to help her friend out.

“My sister will start her job as a photographer for Barca tomorrow.“, she revealed, visibly proud.

Mapis face lit up with excitement: “That’s amazing, Ingrid.“

“Yes, and well deserved. Your sister is so talented.“, Fridolina agreed, relieved but also genuinely happy.

Ingrid beamed, flattered on her sisters behalf: “She will be so happy to hear that.“

Esmee served herself another portion of ice cream: “I’m excited to meet her.“

“You will love her.“, Ingrid promised.

“I’ve no doubt about that.“, Esmee laughed.

“And Mapi and I are making Frido a list for potential blind dates.“, Aitana announced.

Fridolina flinched at the mention.

As she looked over, her two teammates had already scribbled names on an empty sheet of paper.

“How do you even know so many people?“

Mapi shrugged nonchalantly: “We just do.“

“You need to slow down, girls. I’m not sure if I want to date any man right now…“, Frido stopped them.

Mapi and Aitana shared a surprised look.

“Oh, sorry. We only wanted the best for you, Frido. That’s all.“, Aitana apologized.

The Swedish football player nodded: “I know. But maybe I just need break for now.“

Ingrid put a hand on her friends forearm and said softly: “That’s okay, we understand it. You two had been together for quite a while.“

“Yes, but it hasn’t felt right anymore for a long time.“, the blonde admitted.

Alexia shrugged, eating fruit out of her ice cream bowl: “It happens. Sometimes you just fall out of love with someone and you can’t do anything about it.“

The words of her captain resonated deeply with Fridolina who enjoyed the evening more than before now.

“Ingrid, let me breathe.”, you chuckled. It was your first workday for Barcelona as their new photographer, but your sister prevented you from taking photos as she embraced you in a long hug.

“No.”, she shook her head, clearly not ready to let you go yet.

“Please? Hi, everyone.”, you waved politely with your free hand at the players who slowly arrived at the training grounds.

“Hi.”, Mapi grinned.

“Good to see you, Mapi.”, you replied truthfully, relieved to see some familiar faces.

“So happy you got the job.”, the Spanish defender told you thrilled.

“Me too. Also, hey, Caro and Frido!”, you added delighted to see the Scandinavian players.

“Finally, another Norwegian.”, Caroline winked at you.

“Ignore her. Sweden is so much better.”, Fridolina teased her teammate, but swallowed hard at the sight of you, you were even more beautiful than she remembered. Instead, the blonde tried to play down the excitement she felt while looking at you and hugged you casually.

“We won’t discuss this right now.”, Ingrid decided laughing.

“No, but I’m sure you can show me all the great places in the city.”, you glanced at the footballers you knew since your sister played along side them in Wolfsburg.

“That’s more Frido’s thing. She can help you with that and I can teach you the language.”, Caroline declared.

“That’s my sister. Why can’t I show her around and teach her?”, your sibling wanted to know pouting playfully.

Looking between them, Marta announced:” I’m sure you girls will find a way.”

And they did, you easily felt at home in Barcelona with the help of your sister and her friends. It was different to when you visited Ingrid with your family in the past. Step by step you fell in love with the city and its inhabitants.

A few weeks in and you were doing a photo shooting outside with Fridolina for the summer Barca merchandise. The late afternoon sun made her hair and skin appear golden and you had to pause your preparations to remark:” The outfit looks great on you, Frido.”  

“Oh, thank you.”, she beamed at you, making these sporty clothes look effortlessly elegant and timeless.

“It’s true.”, you smiled back while taking a few test shoots to see how well the light, her profile worked together.

“Can I ask you something? When did you start taking photos?”, Fridolina asked you curiously.

Hearing her questions made your smile grew even brighter. “A long time ago. I was like 15 or 16. when I got into it.”, you remembered fondly at the memory.

 “I guess Ingrid and your brother were the test models.”, the Swedish player thought out loud.

“Yes, she was the reason why I became interested in taking sports related pictures.”, you admitted.

Fridolina laughed lightly: “Did she bully you into taking photos of her while playing?“

“No, I saw that they never had any photos of their games so I started doing it. The first ones turned out awful.“, you grinned as you thought back.

The Blonde shrugged: “Isn’t it always like that? The first times I played football, I wasn’t great at it either.“

“You’re right. But taking photos of you is so easy, you’re a natural.“, you replied while you pressed the shutter a few times.

She even looked beautiful doing casual small talk.

But you realized that the collar of her jacket was upturned.

You put your camera down and come closer to fix it for her. After all, the goal was to present the retro looking Barcelona jacket.

Fridolina smiled gratefully at you: “I mean I’ve already done this a few times. But I don’t think I’ve ever felt as comfortable as I do right now.“

You bit your lip to keep yourself from grinning too wide about that compliment.

“Frido, you’re beautiful inside and outside.“, you said without taking your eyes off of her.

Her cheeks slightly blushed: “That’s so sweet of you.“

“Want to change into the second outfit?“, you suggested, giving both of you a break to focus back on the task at hand.

“Sure.“, the Swede said and disappeared into the changing room.

You took a deep breath, grounding yourself again while you waited.

Fridolina emerged in light blue jeans and a slightly oversized shirt in their signature colours that said Barca across the chest.

You shook your head in awe. This woman could literally wear anything.

“Oh, I love that outfit even more.“, you complimented her.

She looked down at herself: “You do?“

“Yes.“, you said while taking a few photos of her.

“I think it would look cute on you too.“, Frido smirked.

“Do you think so?“

You barely finished your question when you noticed that she was already in the motion of pulling the shirt over her head.

“What are you doing?“, you asked laughing.

The football player just handed you the garment: “Here.“

Stunned, you looked at it and the back to Fridolina standing there in her underwear: “Uhm thanks?“

She rolled her eyes with a smile: “No, put it on.“

“Fine.“, you gave in and did as you were told before adding: “But it’s definitely not warm enough for you to just stand there in your sports bra.“

“I guess I should get dressed again.“, she laughed.

You returned the shirt to your model: “Here are your clothes. Hey, that’s my camera.“

You had failed to realize that she had taken your camera and was now taking photos of you with a big grin on her face.

You usually hated being photographed but Fridolina looked too happy so you bit back any comment.

“I’m not leaving without taking a photo of you too.“

“I guess that’s fair even though I’m not as pretty as Ingrid.”, you turned your gaze away from the Swedish woman and looked at the fresh cut grass instead.

“What? Who says? The beauty obviously runs in the family.”, she disagreed.

“Well, my ex-girlfriend said that.”, you shrugged.

“She was a liar then. You’re gorgeous.”, Fridolina observed.

“That means a lot coming from such a stunning woman herself.”, you confessed smiling timidly. For a moment you paused before asking her:” Do you want to see the pictures I made right now or tomorrow?”

“Aw, thank you. Can I see them now?”, curiously she handed you your camera back, where you started to go through the photos you took of her.

“Of course.”, you nodded politely.

 Being this close to you made the blondes heart flutter.

“They’re so nice, y/n.”, Fridolina muttered, suddenly breathlessly.

“Glad you like them. So, I’ll see you before the game tomorrow?”, you changed the topic lightly.

“Sure.”, she beamed at you.

“Goodbye, Frido.”, you responded warmly.

“See you soon, y/n.”, the footballer replied, eagerly anticipating your reunion.

On the next day, you didn’t find the time to catch up with her as you were busy taking the pictures of the arriving players in their pretty matchday outfits. All of them arrived in style.

During the game you were not mesmerized by their beauty but by their beautiful game which you tried to capture with your camera. This was why you wanted to be here, you thought, to watch the best team in Europe thrive in front of your lens. Somehow the Swede always managed to get your attention as you would notice later while seeing through the photos.

When the referee blew the final whistle, Fridolina run to you to pull you into a hug, while you whispered into your ear:” Frido you had an amazing game.”

“Thanks”, she hummed, while her blue eyes sparkled with excitement.

“Well played.”, you couldn’t help but to rave about her performance.

“Appreciate it.”, the fellow Scandinavian mumbled.

“But I got to go around now to take some more shots.”, you explained winking, as you stepped away from her hug. Which had to be completely friendly and nothing more, right? Because she was 100 % straight. Nothing seemed gay about her. Still some signals your sister’s best friend send were quite confusing.

“Y/n, wait!”, Fridolina yelled your name nervously, attempting to hold you back.

“What?”, you turned your head confused.

“Frido, there you’re. My friend wants to meet you.”, Mapi grinned at her taller teammate, nodding into a direction of a very handsome man waiting in the stands, the sight of him, making your stomach turn. He and her would be a pretty couple.

To your surprise, Fridolinas gaze remained fixed on you.

Reluctantly she turned to Mapi, deliberately ignoring the man.

“Mapi, I’m sorry but I’m not interested. I was about to ask y/n to go on a date with me.“, she apologized but her voice was firm and determined.

“What?!“, you and Mapi gasped at the same time, looking at each other in confusion.

Fridolina remained unimpressed: “Uhm yes. I’m actually not straight. You all just assume that because I date men too.“

After a moment of silence, Mapi started to grin like she only now understood the joke that you failed to get: “No, you always dated men since we know you.“

“That still doesn’t make me straight.“, Fridolina replied matter-of-factly.

You would be impressed by her attitude, if you were any less confused.

Mapi had stopped smiling and watched her teammate attentively.

“That’s right.“, you agreed slowly.

The Swede turned back to you: “So… would you go out with me?“

You nodded: “I’d.“

“Really?“, Fridolina asked again.

This time, your face finally reflected your excitement. You smiled: “Yes.“

You both just beamed at each other.

“Ingrid! You won’t believe it!“, Mapi bounced up and down as she called for your sister.

Ingrid joined the three of you: “Believe what?“

“Frido asked your sister out!“, Mapi yelled.

You cringed slightly, hearing it out loud and refused to look at Ingrid.

“What do you mean Frido asked her out? Like on a date?“, your sister asked. Her perfect eyebrows knotted together.

Mapi nodded enthusiastically: “Yes, exactly that.“

“That’s so cute.“

“Oh my god, Frido. You’re full of surprises!“, Ona interrupted, patting the blonde football player on the shoulder and you silently wondered who else had overheard your conversation.

Fridolina raised her eyebrows: “Am I? Or did you just never ask?“

“You’re right. We never asked. We just assumed you were straight. Sorry.“, Ona admitted but she looked less sorry and more happy for her teammate.

You thought their reactions were kind of adorable.

“It’s fine. I just didn’t think I owed you an explanation.“, Fridolina replied politely.

You could not help yourself. You gently took her hand in yours and squeezed it once. There was no way you could contain your admiration for her.

“You didn’t need to.“, you said softly.

Her attention shifted back to you. “The fact that I dated men before you doesn’t change my feelings for you, I hope you know that.“

“During that photoshoot I felt it. But I thought you might just be nice. Now I know I was wrong.“, you chuckled.

Fridolina visibly bit back a smile: “Sorry. I was hoping I’d send the right signals.“

“You did! I was just blind and - … “

You were unable to finish your sentence. Fridolinas soft lips pressed against yours all of a sudden, right there on the field in front of everyone.

“Maybe this was clearer?”, she asked in a hopeful tone.

“Yes, it was.”, you nodded smiling.

In the background you heard your sister telling her girlfriend” Okay, Mapi, I think I need a bit of time to get used to my best friend kissing my sister.”

“You better should hurry up. They’re hitting it off right away.”, the Spaniard punched her playfully in the side, wearing an amused grin on her lips while watching you being showered with kisses by the Swede.

“I see that.”, Ingrid laughed. She knew it would be weird at first, but seeing her favourite people being happy with each other warmed her heart.

For once you didn’t have your camera to capture the moment but the picture of the first kiss with Fridolina after the match would be forever engraved inside your brain.

[shadowandlightt]

Snow and Flame -2- |Cregan Stark X Velaryon!Reader|

Following the death of Luke, Jace and his sister return to Dragonstone. What she doesn't expect is to hear from Lord Stark so soon after her departure. His missive only serves to cause her to fall further for the young Lord, and Jace tells his twin sister not to miss out on this opportunity for happiness.

Part One

A/N: Thank you so so much for your support on my first part. I have admittedly not read the books, almost bought them tonight but didn't want to spend close to $100 on the box set. SO I'm really just going off of the show. I'm sure there are mistakes in this, as I am only human and highly dyslexic. But I appreciate the love and hope you enjoy this nonetheless.

The following days are torture for you. You wished for nothing more than to return to the North where you felt oddly safe, so far away from the conflict. Your stepfather, Daemon, made a grave error in judgment and sent assassins into the Red Keep to kill Aemond, only they didn’t find him, instead killing Aegon’s son, Jeahaerys. The smallfolk started to call your mother a kinslayer and cruel. Though you know she would never order such a thing. 

“Princess, a raven for you.” 

You hum and hold your hand out for the missive, spotting the Stark sigil. A smile spreads across your lips. You can’t help but look around to see if anyone is paying attention to you before you unfurl the scroll. 

Cregan’s handwriting fills your eyes, talks of how he already misses your presence and how sorry he is about your loss. He writes of the summer snow, slowly starting to thicken as winter draws closer. How despite the cold, you might even enjoy Winterfell in it’s natural season. 

The thought of him thinking of you in his home makes heat stir in your belly. You clutch the letter close to your chest, remembering how jealous you were when he and Jace swore oaths to one another and sealed them in blood. 

You thought it unfair that you were excluded. You could understand it now though, why you weren’t allowed. They swore an oath of brotherhood, and you didn’t think of Cregan as a brother. Not with the way desire built up within you during your stay at Winterfell. 

“What are you doing, sister?” Jace calls from your doorway. 

“Jacaerys,” You stand quickly, shoving the missive behind your back, “I didn’t hear you come in.” 

“Yes, I could tell,” He smirks at you, “What do you have?” 

“No-nothing,” You shake your head, tucking the paper into the sleeve of your dress. 

“Oh, it is something,” He laughs, reaching for your hand, “Come now, since when do we keep secrets?” 

“It’s just a message,” You roll your eyes, “From Lord Stark.” 

“From Cregan?” His eyebrows raise, “Pray tell, why does Cregan write to you and not me?”

“Jealous are we?” You question. 

“Hardly,” He snorts, “So, what does Lord Stark say?”

You take a deep breath and pull the paper from your dress, smoothing it out once more. You recite most of the missive to your brother, leaving out how Cregan writes that he longs for you to return. Longs to see you once more. It makes your heart ache because you long to see him too. 

“You’re falling for him,” Jace points out, noticing how your demeanor shifts. 

“Hardly, brother,” You shake your head, trying to cover it up, “I barely know him. Unlike you who swore oaths in blood upon your first meeting.” 

He lets out a deep laugh, “You were mad that I wouldn’t let you, so you have no room to speak, dear sister.” 

You roll your eyes, opening a box to put your missive in. The box has a lock and you keep the key on a chain around your neck. It’s where you hide all of your important things. You lock it away, a small smile playing on your lips. 

He thinks of you enough to write to you mere days after you left him. The knowledge is enough to ease the pain of losing Luke. Your chest still threatens to cave in, but the pain is more bearable, knowing Lord Stark thinks of you. 

Knowing Cregan thinks of you is enough to ease your aching heart. 

“So if he asked to take you to wife you would say no?” 

“I wouldn’t have a choice, that would be up to mother,” You remind him, “She wouldn’t likely turn down such an alliance.” 

“We already have the North,” He wiggles his eyebrows. 

“Yes, well, you might as well have married him yourself,” You snort.

He shakes his head, gripping the hilt of his sword. He was older than you, just by a few moments. It’d come as a shock to the Maesters to discover that there were two of you. No one was as shocked as your mother though. The kingdom celebrated the birth of both of you, no one quite as much as your Grandsire, King Viserys. He loved you so. So much that he was blind to the truth in front of him, that his wife, Queen Alicent could easily see. 

You spent your entire life trying to convince yourself that the rumors simply weren’t true. And that you were a trueborn Velaryron, but in your heart you knew. Just as Jace and Luke knew. 

“Are you going to write him back?” Jace questions. 

“Should I not?” 

“Cregan is a good man,” Is his only response. 

You nod, knowing he’s more than right, “I wouldn’t object,” You clarify, “If he wanted to take me to wife.” 

“You’ve never been one for the fighting,” Jace observes, “You’re much like Helena in that way., I suppose.” 

You nod, biting your lower lip, “I hate that we’re at war. I wish it to stop.” 

“You wish for mother to give up her claim?” He questions, misunderstanding you. 

“No, never that. Too many have already died,” Your eyes begin to water, “But…if only there was a way for her to reclaim the throne without all of the bloodshed. At this rate the path will be paved in blood.” 

“It already is,” Jace sighs, “But I understand how you feel. I don’t agree with it, but I understand it.” 

“I wouldn’t want to leave you,” You start, “But I would welcome the opportunity to leave all of this bloodshed behind.” 

“It’s only going to get worse,” He reminds you. 

“My point exactly.” 

He nods and then turns suddenly remembering why he was here, “A council meeting has been called. I was sent to get you.” 

“And you’re only now saying something?” You gasp, moving to your feet. 

He shrugs and usures you out of the door of your rooms. Everyone is already assembled around the painted table by the time you arrive. Your mother, however, is absent. You look around the chambers. The meeting starts without her, word spread that Ser Criston Cole’s forces have doubled, at the very least. 

You listen, saying quiet as they all say a dragon needs to go to war. There is no way around it. Cole will take Rook’s Rest without a second thought. Jace is in the middle of saying a dragon must be sent when your mother, the queen, finally joins the council. 

Jace instantly demands to know where she’s been and a volley ensues. You stay quiet, as you always do, letting your twin do the talking. But even you, in your grief, took note of your mother’s absence. It worried you to no end, not knowing where she had gone or why. But upon hearing she went to King’s Landing, you swore your heart stopped. 

But when she says she’ll be the one to fly to war, you stop breathing. And when Jace urges her to send him, you swear you might faint. The thought of either of them being in danger is enough to send you over the edge. You cannot stand it. Never have been able to stomach the thought. Jace was right, you’re much like your aunt Helena in that regard. 

You’re about to say something, anything to help the fight, when Rheanys speaks up, saying they must send her. Meyles is the largest dragon that you have, and as Rheanys says, no stranger to battle. 

The meeting seems to end then, having been decided who was going to war on your mother’s behalf, you withdraw quietly. So quietly you aren’t sure anyone noticed you even left. You consider it your power, to sneak from a room, or move about the castle unnoticed by most. You’ve always been the quieter one, compared to the temper that fuels Jace. He’s always run hotter than you, ready to act at a moment’s notice. Ready to fly off the handle and do something rash. You’re more cool and calculated, you suspect you’re more like your father in that way. Either one of them. 

You settle at the small table in your rooms and begin writing back to Lord Stark. You find yourself wishing more and more you could return to the North and be far away from this conflict. So you tell him just that. You tell him that you yearn for him as well, and that you were glad to hear from him so soon. You pour your heart into the letter, not sparing anything. You tell him that the war is really and truly beginning, and that there is no avoiding it now. You tell him that you’re scared of it. 

You’re honest with him, in a way that you didn’t expect. And that night, you fall asleep holding his letter. Wanting to feel close to the Northern man. 

News breaks the following morning that Rheanys and Meleys were lost at Rook’s Rest, and that Aegon, the pretender, was severely injured and is on death’s door. Aemond is named regent in his stead, which is more dangerous than having Alicent herself on the throne. Because Aemond knows no end. He will do anything to secure his place. Including as reports say, sacrifice his own brother. 

You feel it in the pit of your stomach, the dread. It fills you as you walk the halls of Dragonstone. The mood has shifted. If the war wasn’t real with the death of Luke, it’s real now. And you find yourself wishing you could just vanish from Westeros all together and avoid all of this. You do not have it in yourself to go to war. Do not have it in you to fight on dragonback as will be expected of you. 

“Where have you been?” Jace questions, brows knitted together. 

“In hiding,” You sigh, closing your book. 

“Obviously,” He rolls his eyes, “I’ve been trying to find you for hours.” 

“Well, you succeeded.” 

“Are you alright?” He asks you. 

“Must I be?” You question. 

“I know how hard this is for you,” He replies, “But we need you, sister. We cannot win this war without you.” 

“You need my dragon,” You clarify, “You can do this without me, but not without her.” 

“No, I need you,” He reassures you, “I cannot fight this without you. I need you by my side, I always have and I always will.” 

“You cannot put this on my shoulders Jace,” You shake your head, “I cannot bear it. The thought of anything happening to you, or to Mother, or our brothers…I cannot.” 

“Nothing will happen to me,” He promises, “I’m quick, and I’m lucky.” 

“And inexperienced, as mother pointed out,” You remind him, “Anyone can be killed. We are not gods, as the smallfolk believe.” 

He sighs and joins you on your seat. There is nothing he can do to put your worries to rest, because he knows there’s a chance he will be killed. There is a chance anytime he gets on his dragon and flies off. He wishes there was something he could do to ease your anxiety. Perhaps he would pay a visit to the Maesters for a draft to help you sleep better. He knows you won’t ask for it yourself. 

“Did you write to Cregan?” He finally asks, seeking to change the subject. 

He notes the way you almost smile, the way your eyes light up a little and your shoulders relax, “I did.” 

“Good,” He smiles, squeezing your shoulder, “I am glad.” 

“As am I,” You admit. 

“Perhaps he’ll petition for your hand,” He shrugs, “Then you’ll be able to get away from all of this afterall.” 

“I’d never wish to leave you, Jacaerys,” You tell him honestly, “You’re half of my soul.”

“And you’re half of mine,” He assures you, “But I would never wish for your unhappiness.” 

You nod, knowing he wouldn’t. Jace might be hot headed, and quick to fly off, but he isn’t selfish. Never selfish. Not when it comes to you at least. He would always put you first, it was his job to protect you and keep you happy. Always had been, ever since you were little. 

He could survive without you, you were sure. But you needed to find out if you could survive without him. You knew, deep within your heart, that there would come a day when you would have to learn to live without him. You couldn’t imagine Jace as an old man, sitting upon the iron throne. You hated that you couldn’t, but it was the truth. 

“I would never wish for your unhappiness either,” You tell him, biting back tears. 

“Should he ask for your hand, don’t turn him down,” Jace urges you, “Be happy with him in the North. Be safe.”

“You’re telling me to leave?” You question. 

He only shrugs and gives you a soft smile, “I’m telling you to be happy, however you need to achieve it.” 

[mallowsweetmiri]

babes PLEASE I BEG YOU write a part two for remus x potter!reader🥺🥺🥺

Remus Lupin x Potter! Reader (pt 2)

Part 1 • Part 3

Summary: James is pissed at Remus for keeping you a secret from him, but that’s not going to stop you two from seeing eachother

Warnings: cursing, smut

���————————————————————————

Remus stood up from the table as you walked towards the exit looking nervously at him.

“Not you,” James growled, pointing angrily at Remus as he got up from the table. You walked quickly with your head down, embarrassed that your brother was making such a scene. You were pretty sure you knew what this was about. Remus, of course. But how did James find out? He was fine one moment then flipping his shit the next. Guess you’d find out in about, hmm one second.

“What the fuck, Y/N?” James yelled the moment the two of you entered the hallway. Your cheeks were furiously flushed, but you crossed your arms and tried to stand your ground.

“What are you on about, James,” you spat back. James scoffed and laughed at the same time.

“Don’t play dumb with me. Wh- what- you and Remus?!” James practically screamed. You looked around nervously, he was being so dramatic. You sucked your lips in. So he did know.

“What gave you that idea?” You said, trying to keep your cool, but your nervousness had seeped into your voice. James’ face twisted into a look of pain and cringe.

“Your fucking bow, Y/N! We were just teasing Remus about this goddamn bookmark with a bow that we found on his bed- oh gods- you were in our room?!? Oh my gods, Y/N, I’m going to be sick,” James cried, he was losing his shit. Your cheeks were on fire now. You couldn’t believe you left your book there, how could you guys be so stupid?

“Look, James. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just didn’t want you to freak out. Kind of like you’re doing right now,” you muttered, “but I was going to tell you. Please, James I really like him and-”

“No,” James asserting, shaking his head, “No, absolutely not. You are not going to be seeing Remus. Ever. Again.” James was pacing by now, you honestly hadn’t seen him this mad in years.

“James-”

“No! This is not up for discussion. I can’t even believe it! I can’t believe the fucking audacity Remus has, getting with my baby sister!” James laughed out loud again, incredulously. You rolled your eyes.

“James, I’m not five. I’m only a grade below you.”

“And you’re still my sister! You’re not allowed to see him anymore,” James shook his head, keeping his distance from you. Tears began to well up in your eyes. This wasn’t fair.

“James, I’m sorry,” you sobbed, hot tears flooding down your face, “I was going to tell you-” The door to the hall swung open. Remus stepped out, looking concerned when he saw you crying.

“You,” James growled, pointing his finger once again at Remus, “you lied to me! You’ve been lying to me this whole fucking time!”

“James, I-” Remus tried, but James wasn’t having either of your words.

“No, you fucking liar! How could you?” James sounded genuinely hurt, and it broke you heart to see Remus’ face as he took in James piercing words. “How could you look me in the eye knowing that you’ve secretly seeing my sister? How long has this even been going on for?”

“I- since the summer, but-” James’ knuckle cracked him in the face.

“James!” You yelled, more tears streaming down your face as you watched Remus’ stumble over.

“Don’t ever talk to her again, do you hear me?” James yelled before grabbing your elbow and dragging you back towards the dorms. You looked back over your shoulder at Remus who looked at you solemnly with trickles of blood on his face. It only made you cry harder. James dragged you, despite your tears and protests, all the way up to the common room.

“Go to your room, now.” James ordered, pointing up the girls staircase. Who did he think he was?!

“You can’t tell me what to do. You’re not my dad!” You yelled. People in the common room were staring now. You and James never fought.

“Y/N, I just can’t do this right now. Go to your room. We can talk tomorrow,” James sighed, rubbing his temples. Tears began to well again as you turned to stomp up the stairs. It hurt James to see you cry, but it hurt him even more to know that two of the people he loved the most had been sneaking around behind his back. He shook his head as he headed up to his own room to calm down.

That night, Remus laid in bed awake. James had shunned him all night, and Pete and Sirius kinda just shrugged and assured him he would calm down. Eventually, they said. Remus hated that this is how James found out. He had wanted to tell him together, albeit James probably still would’ve freaked out. Remus sighed, turning over on his pillow. He wanted to see you so desperately tonight, as he had told you earlier that day. And seeing you cry today only made him want to hold you that much more. He hated James for making you cry, but he knew deep down that it was his fault. He tried to regret having you, but he just couldn’t. You were the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

A tap on the window jolted Remus up. He opened his bed curtain to see an owl on the windowsill, holding a thin package tied in a little pink bow. Quietly, Remus opened the window and retrieved the package, signaling to the owl to wait there for a few minutes. Remus crept back into his bed, whispering lumos before pulling out the notecard attached to the package.

Remus,

I don’t care what James says. I already miss you, and I can’t bear to think about never seeing you again. We can talk to him tomorrow, I know he’ll come around. I hope your face is feeling okay. James is such an idiot for punching you. I wish I could kiss it better. Until we can see each other again, I’ll be thinking of you. I left you a little present to hopefully cheer you up.

- Y/N <3

Remus smiled to himself. To be honest, his face hurt like a bitch, but he deserved it. Gods, he just wanted to see you. Slowly, he untied the pink ribbon attached the the package. It was light and small. Remus wondered what on earth you had put in here. His blood rushed to his cheeks as his fingers wrapped around the lacy fabric, pulling out a pair of your panties.

“Fucking hell,” Remus muttered, almost groaning at the sight. Remus was fucked, there’s no way James was going to keep him from seeing you after this. Even if Remus wanted to stay away, how could he after you sent him your sexiest pair of panties? You knew they were his favorite too, a pink lacy thong with a little bow right above your cunt. Remus summoned his quill, turning your note over and hastily writing meet me in the common room. Remus got up as quietly as he could, giving the note to your owl before shuffling to his trunk. He grabbed the necessities- a blanket and the marauders map. He tiptoed out of the room, double checking to be sure that nobody had woken up. He snuck down to the common room, the ever burning fire lighting his way as he walked towards the couch. He was impatient, twiddling your panties in his hand as he waited. A few moments later, you were padding down the stairs, Remus’ sweatshirt hanging off your body. He’d forgotten that you had that one, and gods you looked so adorable in it. He stood up and race over to you, engulfing you in a hug with his blanket.

“Y/N,” he breathed, kissing your head. You sunk into his touch, almost whimpering. You’d been crying for hours, and all you wanted was to be held by Remus. You pulled back and gently touched his cheek where the cut was. He winced.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. He let out a little laugh.

“It’s okay, my love,” he pulled out your thong and swung it in front of your face, “this made me feel better.”

“I’m glad,” you blushed with a small smile. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, hoping he could sense your want. It only made you want him that much more knowing you weren’t supposed to.

“Lets go,” Remus said, wrapping the blanket around you before pulling out a map.

“What’s that?” You whispered as the two of you moved out of the portrait hole.

“Uh, a map, Don’t worry about it, love” Remus said, checking the parchment before leading you down the hall. This wasn’t the first time the two of you had snuck out to the astronomy tower, but tonight felt even more risky than usual. You felt as though James was gonna jump out from around the corner and attack Remus. You were curious at this map Remus had, but he was hiding it from you and frankly, you didn’t care. As long as it got you to where you needed to go, you could live with not knowing. Remus guided you through the cold halls, the two of you trying not to giggle as you fumbled up the stairs to the astronomy tower. It was moments like this that you were sure James would come around. The two of you made each other so happy, how could he deny his own sister that chance? You shook your head in thought as Remus entered the platform, slowly taking the blanket off of you and laying it on the ground.

“Give me your sweatshirt,” Remus whispered, tugging at the edges.

“But I’m cold Remus,” you pouted, earning a chuckle from him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll warm you up. I promise,” his sweet tone made you oblige as you stripped off the sweatshirt, leaving you in your tiny pajama shorts and bra. Remus muttered a curse under his breath at the sight of you before transfiguring your sweatshirt into a pillow. Sometimes you forgot how talented he was, but it was one of the many reasons why you had fell for him. Remus took a seat on the blanket and held his arms out for you. You graciously accepted his invitation, falling into his lap and burying your head into his chest as his laid down.

“I’m sorry this happened today, my love. It’s terrible timing, really. I had special plans for this evening as well,” Remus sighed into your hair as he stroked your back. You hummed and looked up to him.

“What plans?” You asked in a small voice. You were tired from crying all day, and he could see it in your puffy eyes. He let out a breath as he smiled down at you.

“I had a whole date planned for us tonight. I was going to tell you that I love you,” Remus breathed out, his thumb coming up to stroke your cheek. Your breath hitched.

“You-you love me?” You whispered, pulling yourself up closer to him. He chucked at the sight of you, eyes blown out with hope and a smile teasing the corners of you lips.

“Yes, Y/N. I am hopelessly in love with you, if it wasn’t obvious already,” Remus smiled, pushing himself up to gently lay you on your back. You shook your head, your words suddenly stuck in your throat.

“I-it wasn’t,” you whispered, running your fingers along the top of his shirt, “I love you, too.” Your lips curved into a smile as you watched Remus’ do the same. He pressed his forehead into yours as he stroked your cheek. The two of you stayed like that in a small silence, your hearts beating in your chests.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” Remus chuckled, unable to bear the want within him. He stifled your gasp with his lips, kissing you as if it was the first time. Remus moaned into your mouth, making you want him even more. He was driving you mad. You were completely addicted to him. He had you sending him a pair of your panties for gods sake. You gasped again as his fingers gripped your hips and ground himself into your heat, but any sounds you tried to make were shoved back into your mouth by his tongue. You were drowning in him, and it made you drunk with pleasure. Remus never broke you kiss as his fingers moved swiftly under your shorts, pressing lightly on your clit through your soaking panties. You groaned, throwing your head back, but his lips followed. He couldn’t get enough of you, the sounds of your moans reverberating in his mouth and traveling straight down to his bulge. His thumb played with your clit softly, making you whine as you panted into his mouth. You felt him smile against you.

“Do you like that?” He said, pulling back to catch his breath. You nodded and whined again. “Use your words, love.”

“Y-yes, Remus. It feels so good, please don’t stop,” you whined, the knot in your stomach beginning to form. He hadn’t even removed you panties yet, and you were already so close to coming. He let out a breathy laugh. He could tell you were close.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” he said, moving back to kiss you again. You moaned loudly into his mouth, finding it hard to catch your breath with his tongue down your throat. His left hand came up to grip the back of your head, forcing your mouth further into his as his fingers sped up, keeping the same feather light pressure over the fabric of your panties.

“Mmm,” you tried telling him you were close, but he wouldn’t let your lips free. He nodded and grunted, pressing down slightly harder on your clit as he rubbed you. Your head begin to spin as you lacked air and common sense. It was building up so fast, and your kisses became sloppy as your moans became more frequent. Remus didn’t let up though, continuing to swallow you whole as his fingers moved expertly over your mound, as if he knew every line of pleasure in your body. You whined into his mouth as the knot in your stomach broke, and your pussy flooded with waves of pleasure. Remus moaned alongside you as he felt the wetness beneath the fabric growing. He could feel your nipples pressed against his chest through your flimsy bra, and he just couldn’t take it anymore. He let you ride out your high and shudder in his arms. He finally broke away from his kiss with a gasping breath as he looked down at you. You looked beautiful, he thought. You looked absolutely lust stricken and it was all for him.

“I need this off,” he muttered, removing his hand from your mound and pulling your bra down. He then moved to your shorts, roughly pulling them down along with your panties. You looked a mess, but Remus thought you’d never looked more beautiful. He groaned as he began to kiss down your neck, then to your breasts, down your stomach, and to you bare pussy. He looked up at you through his lashes as you squirm. He chuckled under his breath and gave your wet clit a kiss, making you whine and squirm.

“Remus, please,” you whined, grabbing his hair and pulling him away from your heat. He chuckled and smiled at your with a half grin.

“Tell me what you want, Y/N,” he said huskily, his fingers rubbing your thighs.

“I need you inside me, Rem,” you groaned, pulling his hair again to bring him over you. He couldn’t help but laugh, you looked so cute. And he was more than happy to oblige considering his cock was throbbing for you.

“Anything you want, love,” he said, coming up to his knees and pulling down his sweats. You laid there splayed on his blanket as you watched his cock slap back up to his stomach. You sat up, opening your mouth and looking up at Remus. His smile stayed on his face as he used his hand to pull your head forward, thrusting into your mouth. You moaned around his cock, using your tongue to fully wet him. “Y/N,” he moaned, his head thrown back as he lightly thrust into your mouth. You hummed, grabbing him with both your hands to cover the rest of his length that you couldn’t fit in your mouth. Remus gave it a few more seconds before he pulled himself off of you and laid you back down on the blanket, giving you another wet kiss. His breath was ragged as he lined himself up to you, watching your face as he pushed his length into your wet pussy. He groaned as his head fell into your shoulder, letting you adjust to his size. You kissed the side of his neck letting him know it was okay to move. Slowly, Remus pulled back before thrusting into you again, earning a gasping moan from your lips. He pushed himself up to watch you, both of your faces twisted in pleasure as he began to pick up his rhythm.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, grabbing your waist with his hand.

“Remus,” you moaned, clenching around him. He began to fuck you harder, chasing his own high.

“Fuck, I love you so much,” he said, falling down to kiss you hard as he thrust into you faster. You moaned into his lips as if to say I love you, too while he continued to fuck you deeper. Remus felt like he needed to be closer to you, even though he was as deep as he could go. He went back to suffocating you with his lips, his hand gripping the back of your hand once again to push you up closer to his mouth. With his free hand, he lifting your leg up beneath your thigh, his dick rubbing up against your g-spot with every thrust. You whined shamelessly into his mouth as you felt yourself begin to pulse underneath him. His thrusts were getting sloppy, but he continued to fuck you just as hard.

“Rem,” you gasped, trying to break free of his kiss, “I’m gonna-” he slammed his lips back into yours, thrusting deep inside you to shut you up. Then you were coming again hard, shuddering around Remus has his seed spilled out into your pussy. His thrusts slowed as he pressed his forehead into yours, riding out the last little bit of his orgasm. He began to plant kisses around your face, earning some giggles from you as you hugged around his neck.

“Fuck that was so good,” Remus smiled, dipping down to give you one last kiss. You smiled up at him, beaming. You knew this was only the beginning of what you hoped would be a long relationship with Remus. The two of you took your time that night, joking around and looking at the stars and peppering kissing across the others face. At around 4, Remus insisted he brought you back to the dorm. He didn’t want to get you in anymore trouble than he already had. As the two of you snuck back through the halls you asked,

“If you had this map the whole time, why haven’t you used it before?” Remus stopped in his tracks. The two of you were nearing the common room.

“That bastard,” Remus grumbled, folding the map and placing it in his waistband.

“Remus?” You asked as the two of you entered the common room.

“Don’t worry about it, love,” he said giving you a kiss on the head, “go up to bed. I’ll see you in the morning at breakfast and we’ll get everything figured out.” You nodded as he gave you one last hug before going back to your dorm.

Remus entered his room quietly, buzzing with adrenaline. He found it hard to fall asleep, but eventually his body gave out, and he managed to get a few hours of rest before promptly shooting up in his bed. When he opened his curtain, James was staring at him from his bed.

“James,” Remus said, standing up. James looked away and crossed his arms. “James, please. Just let me explain myself. Let’s go downstairs and talk.” James grumbled but stood up, following Remus’ lead out of the room. Sirius and Peter exchanged a look as they watched, thinking that Remus had to be insane. Remus found an empty corner of the common room and sat down, motioning to a chair for James.

“Whatever you say, you’re not allowed to see her again,” James grunted, the morning still prevalent in his voice. Remus sighed.

“Look, James. I’m sorry you had to find out like this. We were waiting to tell you, I was waiting until she was ready. I know what I did was selfish and unfair to you, but I couldn’t break her trust,” Remus scooted his chair closer, “James, she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. She makes me so happy and I can’t imagine my life without her. Please, just give me a chance to show you,” Remus pleaded. James looked up with concern in his eyes, but shook his head.

“I’m sorry, Remus. But I can’t let you date my sister. After you’ve been lying to me all this time, how can I trust you with her?” James said matter of fact, crossing his arms in defiance. Remus rolled his eyes.

“But it’s different with you and Regulus?”

“Wh-what?” He stuttered, taken aback. His face was flushed in a deep shade of red.

“Please, James. You think I haven’t noticed you hoarding the map for the past few months? Plus, you’re really not subtle when you’re staring at him for the entirety of dinner,” Remus muttered, rolling his eyes again at his friend’s hypocrisy. James cleared his throat and sat up.

“What does this have to do with my sister?” James asked in a high pitch strain.

“James, you’re keeping the same secret from Sirius. Do you think that makes your feelings for Regulus any less genuine? I don’t. Just please James, give me a chance to show you how good I can treat her. You know I’m better for Y/N than any other git in this school,” Remus reasoned, finally feeling confident. James pondered this. It was true that if anyone was going to date his little sister, perhaps Remus wouldn’t be the worst choice.

“Fine, but we’re going to have a talk tonight. All three of us,” James said, wagging his finger at Remus. Remus was beaming.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you. You’re not going to regret this, I promise,” Remus stood up and clapped James on the back.

“Um, you’re not going to tell Sirius about Regulus, right?” James asked with a sheepish smile. Remus laughed.

“Of course not, Prongs.”

[maruflix]

  — ★ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄-𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄.

☆ — “BUT YOU WERE SUCH A PRETTY, PRETTY GIRL.”

SYNOPSIS : The very first moment Takiishi Chika laid eyes on you, something stirs deep inside his heart. Was it love, or was it hate? Either way, he knew that you would inevitably be his ruination. FEATURING : Takiishi Chika x f!reader CONTENT : reader is endo’s little sister, sweet!reader, suggestive material at the end

Takiishi Chika’s world is in black and white. He goes through his boring days on autopilot, since nothing ever really warrants even half of his attention. He has to admit (rather begrudgingly) that after meeting Endo Yamato, things have begun to feel more interesting. Only slightly, though. He knows that he’s a detached, nonchalant type of guy, so he’s prepared himself to live the rest of his life in mild disappointment.

Then you appeared.

Small hands hidden beneath the long sleeves of Endo’s black jacket, gripping a cute pastel umbrella tightly, eyes wide and curious and fluttering at him. He notes the panicked expression on Endo's face as he ushers you away despite your protests of ‘Nii-chan, aren’t you gonna come home soon?!’, a hand placed securely around your shoulders in an unfamiliar gentle manner.

“Girlfriend?” When his black haired friend returns, Takiishi can’t quite stop himself from asking dumbly despite already hearing how you addressed Endo earlier. Endo chuckled nervously, rubbing a hand on his nape. The action is, again, uncommon. Especially for Endo.

“Nah, she’s my little sis-” Before Endo can finish his sentence, you are already tumbling back in sight, this time with a can of soda. Grinning, you hold it out towards a grumbling Endo, who takes it from you anyway. “Go home, pipsqueak. I told you not to look for me.” As a response, you merely stuck out your tongue childishly.

“Then come home with me, nii-chan! Come hooomee!” You tug at the sleeves of your brother’s loosely wrapped black yukata.

Once again, Endo glances at Takiishi, worry evident in his eyes. His red-haired friend only stares back silently. But there’s a nagging feeling in his heart that he can’t push down. He focuses his attention back on you. “Yeah, yeah, anything to get you off my ass.” He pries your hands away from his yukata before turning to Takiishi and giving him a small nod.

Endo may be a horrible person, but he’s still a big brother and he does not like the way Takiishi Chika is staring at his sister.

“Wait, wait!” Ignoring your brother’s annoyed ‘haaah?!’, you walk up towards the tall stranger, eyes once again beaming in curiosity. “Hello, you must be nii-chan’s friend! I’m his little sister, nice to meet you!”

Takiishi blinked at you. People normally stay out of his way, making themselves scarce when they catch sight of him. Endo also tries his best not to bother him, letting him do whatever he wants, because Endo knows how much he hates people who get up in his face. But you… you’re standing too close for comfort, and he stills when your hand reaches up to grab his own. A handshake. He hasn’t done one of those in many, many years. He detests the feeling of being touched. But now… 

His eyes flicker to meet yours, eyebrows knitted in annoyance. He wants to push you away, to grip that soft hand of yours and twist your arm until you scream out in pain, to wipe that sweet smile from your face, to wrap a hand around that small throat. But somehow he can’t do anything, not when you’re staring at him with those beautiful eyes that made his breath hitch. Unassuming, unrestrained, unshrinking even when he glares at you with the heat of a thousand suns—

Endo quickly yanks your hand away, his face panicked and eyes blown wide. “Sorry, sorry~ I’ll be taking this one with me!” He wastes no time dragging you with him, practically sprinting away like Takiishi is going to kill him.

Takiishi pauses. Oh, that’s right. He would usually pummel anyone who displeases him even a little bit. Why hadn’t he done that? Turning away, he decides not to overthink it, blaming it fully on how beautiful you looked. He’s just a little shell-shocked, that’s all. It’s not like he’ll meet you again, not when Endo keeps acting like he’d swallow his little sister whole.

So when he sees you again a few days later, he is completely dumbstruck. He thanks the gods that he normally opts not to move around much, because he literally stops walking when he sees you. You’re not wearing one of Endo’s jackets now, but casual clothes that hug your body snugly. Your eyes visibly light up at the sight of him.

Takiishi lets you walk up to him. You ask him where Endo is. Takiishi gives you an answer. You ask him if he can accompany you to look for your brother. Takiishi agrees. Takiishi lets you put a hand around his arm.

He wanted to smack you away, to beat you the same way he beat all those people who dares to get in his way. But you flash him another beautiful smile, and god, he relents. Takiishi Chika would be lying if he says he wasn’t frustrated with how wishy-washy he was, but he’s not one to doubt and regret his actions. He simply blames his actions on your beautiful smile again. Oh, the world and its pretty privilege, right?

When the two of you finally locate Endo, his jaw immediately drops to the floor as he races to separate you from Takiishi, apologizing profusely before dragging you away, flicking you gently on the forehead. Takiishi watches in mild amusement as he realizes something: he doesn’t feel bothered by your touch.

Pouting at your brother who begs you not to bother Takiishi anymore, you stubbornly turn your head to wink at Takiishi before yelling: “Thanks for the help, Takiishi-kun!”

Takiishi Chika’s world explodes in color.

It doesn’t take much effort to find your socials. He convinces himself that he merely wants to know the name of the insolent brat who keeps bothering him. The way your name rolls from his tongue feels so dizzying. He tells himself that it’s just another way to pass the time when he shamelessly stalks your profile for hours. Like you, your social media presence is blindingly bright. Beloved by your family, by your friends, even by the nasty piece of work that is your big brother Endo Yamato. He clicks on the picture of you holding a birthday cake, posing cheerfully with a sulking Endo next to you, captioned ‘my nii-chan bought me a bday cake!!’ and he wonders how it will look like with him next to you instead of your big brother.

Takiishi assures himself that you’re merely a plaything for him to pass time, a new shiny toy that he can just throw away anytime. He doesn’t like girls like you: friendly, cheerful, sweet, sheltered, touchy. If you weren’t such a pretty, pretty girl, he would’ve battered you and left you to die the first time you got all up in his face. But you were such a pretty, pretty girl.

So he lets you hang around him. Despite Endo’s many scoldings to leave him alone, you stuck to his side like glue. He lets you accompany him during walks. He goes into the convenience store when he spots you inside. He snatches your wallet when you’re going to pay, sliding his own money on the counter, convincing himself that he just feels like spending money that day.

The next day, you found him yet again at the abandoned warehouse he often hangs around in. On your hand is a can of soda, the same brand you gave to your older brother the first day he met you. Grinning sheepishly, you tell him that you’re sorry for being too touchy with him. Takiishi wonders why you’re apologizing now, when you’ve been touching him so often that everyone now thinks you’re his girlfriend. As if reading his mind, you rub the back of your neck, telling him that Endo sat you down to lecture you yesterday about respecting other people’s boundaries and that you were lucky Takiishi hasn’t whacked you in the face.

“So... peace offering?”

Finally understanding, he takes the can from your hand and tells you that he doesn’t really mind. It was the truth. He isn’t bothered by your touches, not at all. What bothers him is how unaffected you look. You’re friendly and touchy, sure, but he can never tell if you truly like him or not when you behave the same way around other people. It frustrates him. Do you merely see him as one of your brother’s friends? If so, he wonders what will go through his mind when he finally pins you down. Maybe you will finally shut up. Maybe you will finally look at him with fear in your eyes. Maybe you will finally realize that he…

But now, when he’s holding your wrists with one hand, straddling your thighs, leaning on top of you, all he can think of is how fast his blood is rushing in his ears. Especially when you’re staring up at him in shock, mouth slightly agape, hair messily framing your face. He can hear his own heartbeat when he leans down, wanting to gauge your reaction. It backfires, because it is him who gets lost in your eyes. His mind goes haywire, thinking about what he should do with you first.

“W-wait..”

Your quiet plea falls on deaf ears. What Takiishi wants, he gets. He will never let anyone or anything block him from doing what he wants. He sighs in bliss before running a hand up your thigh, feeling the supple skin and giving it a possessive squeeze. You smell so good as he buries his nose in the crook of your neck, wondering if he should take a bite out of you.

Your sniffles are louder now. “Stop!”

Something unpleasant bubbles up from his stomach. He immediately releases his grip on your wrists and flinches away from you. Fuck. He stares at you, heart still thundering inside his ribcage. The unpleasant feeling is unfamiliar, and it took him a few moments to figure out that he’s feeling guilt. “Do you…” He has to force the sentences out of his throat, “not want this?” What Takiishi wants, he gets. He will never let anyone or anything block him from doing what he wants... right?

Underneath him, you finally stop squirming to look up at him shyly. “I want this, but…”

Takiishi waits, the unpleasant feeling slowly washing away when you assured him that he didn’t just force you to do something you didn’t want.

“... you haven’t even said ‘I love you’!”

Takiishi watches you hide your blushing face behind your hands as another unfamiliar feeling rises up in his stomach. He chuckles, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, leaning down until his mouth is right next to your ear. He feels you shiver when his hot breath fans your ears as he slowly whispers the three words he never thought he would ever say in his life. “I love you. You know that, don’t you?”

He blames the universe, the way you look so cute underneath him, and all the emotions surging in him that made him get carried away. He knows who he is. Stoic, calm, cold Takiishi Chika. Yet, in the last weeks, he has been behaving in strange ways that puzzles everyone around him, even himself. But no amount of shifting blame can get rid of the awful feeling in his heart, and his inability to leave you alone. Like watching an oncoming crash; he knew that you would be his ruination, but he still dives into you anyway.

He’s snapped back to reality when he feels your soft lips pressing onto his own, and he reacts by holding your chin, deepening the kiss. His sanity almost snaps when he hears you moan and tug at his hair, unknowingly pressing your body closer to him. Your mewls are only fueling his desire. He pushes your skirt up, greedily grabbing anything he can get his hands on. 

Your phone suddenly rings next to your head. He sees the caller ID: “yamato-nii ( ≧ᗜ≦)” and a wave of possessiveness suddenly washes over him. Groaning at the interruption, you reach out a hand to reject the call but Takiishi snatches your phone before you.

“H-huh?”

He accepts the call and puts it on speaker before placing it on the ground, a little too far for you to reach. “Keep quiet.” He whispered commandingly, continuing to feel you up. His eyes glint in mischief, amusement, and something else you can’t put a finger on.

“Hey, (Y/N)?! Where are you?”

Hearing your brother’s voice from the phone, you suppress a whimper when Takiishi decides to fondle your breasts, his lips still on your neck. His knee is between your legs now as he opens the first few buttons of your blouse, staring at you like a hunter who has just found its prey.

“Huh? Did this idiot hang up…?” A shuffling sound is heard in the background, followed by “Hey! (Y/N)! Oi! I’m talking to you! Where are you, dumbass? Helloooo?!”

You pray to whatever god is out there that your idiot brother will finally give it up and end the call when you feel Takiishi’s teeth grazing your neck and his hands now settling on your butt, suppressing a moan but failing as it comes out choked and an octave higher than it originally is.

“Huh? What’s that sound? Are you crying? Hellooo!?”

Takiishi smirks at you devilishly, satisfied with the expression on your face. He taps on your phone, your brother’s voice in the background suddenly cutting off into silence as the call ends. Shrugging off his jacket, he marvels at how good you look underneath him, skirt hiked up and blouse slightly unbuttoned. You were going to be his ruination, but he’ll let you if it means he can ruin you too.

Leaning down to fully open your blouse, he smirks against your neck, blood pulsing in excitement. “Shall we continue?”

NOTES : *casually drops another takiishi chika fic* I am so down bad for this man. Oh and I totally blushed like Umemiya’s tomatoes while writing this, I can NOT write smut for the life of me I’M SORRY I TRIED. Also, soft Chika supremacy!! ✊🏻🔥

[bluetooththereptile]

Crimson bride

(Yandere Damian Wayne x twin sister reader)

( English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes in the following text.)

Summary: Your life is going to end horribly, your will to live is slipping away, will your only hope come to save you?

Tw: mentions of violence and abuse

The smell of blood and incense had filled the air, your lungs could hardly bear the responsibility of bringing you oxygen under the pressure of your stress, not that they could easily filter the smoke in the air anyway. It felt like the air was on fire, with each breath your body shuddered slightly, your body could hardly bear the burden of keeping you alert. The beads of sweat slithered down your spine, making the already uncomfortable rags even more unbearable. You were just 11, why were you stuck in a room full of adults in dark long robes...you were not sure...or perhaps you knew what was going to happen, but you didn't know why on earth you were there. You eyed the sacred blade in the hand of the leader of the group, the light of the candles shimmering on its uneven blade, and swallowed your saliva down your throat that now had turned extremely dry. You could already feel the pain in your chest. Dear God, if you hear me...please help!

The dark monks' chants echoed in the chambers, and the puddles of red wax candles under the feet of pillars carved with different images of unholy creatures, seemed like oozing puddles of blood to you, already boiling with crimson liquid of life right out of hell, where they hailed their master from. The veil on your head was thin enough for you to recognize people's faces, well, at least the ones who didn't have a mask on, and your terrified eyes spotted the figure of your grandfather standing behind the leader, himself holding a golden bowl at hand. You gritted your teeth at remembering his words. The memory is still fresh for you, it was just two months ago when he was having a drink with the leader himself in his boudoir, with you present by his side.

"She's a fitting lady Ra's...I give you the credit of having good hereditary genes..." the leader spoke in his smooth voice, his eyes scanning you up and down. You knew how the way he looked at you was inappropriate but you still stayed, holding the tray of drinks, standing by your grandfather's side, if you were going to flinch even for an inch, your mother wouldn't be happy. "She is..." your grandfather hummed, rubbing his chin before he chuckled "What is it old friend? You seem too interested in my child..." the words spoken made your shoulders stiffen slightly, your fingers tightening around the edges of the tray. "I am...but not for what you think...she is too young for marriage for a mortal man..." his smirk grew wider as he continued "But she's at the ripe age for being gifted to our dear lord...she'd make a decent bride..." you could see Ra's hold on his glass of drink tighten, what did his friend mean? Did he want to marry you off to someone? You wondered, but your confusion soon turned into horror as the leader continued "Her heart fits the unholy bowl perfectly" Oh no...you had heard from your nanny that this man was bearer of bad news but this...this was unpredictable! Your head turned to your grandfather to see how he'd respond...please say no, please say no, I've been a good granddaughter...please say no! "What price do you offer?" And with that, your whole world shattered, you felt like life was slipping away from your shell of being as he negotiated the price of marriage, did he...did he just agree on making you a sacrificial lamb?!

You snapped out of your thoughts by feeling the extremely warm hold of the leader on your naked arm as he pulled you away from the corner of the damp room, the metallic chains on your weak ankles clinking loudly as you dragged them on the floor, your feet already bruised by the rough edges of the old tiles on the floor, leaving red trails of blood. He walked you to the alter, your heart skipped as you saw the white dressing of the stone bed, flower petals spread on the surface, how hauntingly fitting for a bridal bed... The man stopped you right before the altar and started chanting in a language you didn't know a word of. But whatever it was, it was working...because the tiles under your feet started to turn unbearably hot, the circles and symbols drawn onto the walls and the floor turned bright red, oh dear God...if you hear me...please help! You had lost your hope a long time ago, but still, you wanted to hold onto a sliver of hope, maybe your grandfather would change his decision at the last minute, or perhaps he would come...but no...how could Damian come to the other side of the world that quickly? He was just a child, like you, sure, he was a capable boy but still, he was just a boy. His words circled in your mind as the priest poured a warm liquid on your body that painted it red, its sweet aroma filling the air, unbeknownst to you, it was a poison that through skin pores penetrated the body and ran into your blood, slowly relaxing your muscles until your heart would stop, this way, if the demons preferred to have your body whole, you'd still be dead. As you felt your skin itch and your vision turn slowly blurry, Damian's voice echoed in your mind "I will come...I promise...I promise!" His voice was filled with determination, but you knew he'd be late. It was already too late...

They helped you lay down on the alter, the wet veil sticking to your face, slowly suffocating you, but you were too weak to move on your own, your eyes were closed, as if the liquid had sealed your eyelashes together, and the voices around you were turning into distant murmurs, your hands limp as they crossed it on your chest. It was too late...and he hadn't held up to his promise...your lips formed a pout, unable to cry, hardly latching onto the task of breathing, your breaths became labored. Soon your chest would be cut open and your warm paralyzed heart would be put into that golden bowl, and then thrown into a fire...you had hoped things would be different, but you knew from the very start, that you were unwanted, and one day, your family would give you up if they have the chance to do so.

Your ears couldn't detect the loud sound of the explosion of the tear gas in the room, how the cult members shouted and pulled out their weapons but were disarmed quickly by the man in black and a few younger ones. You didn't notice them until someone yanked the wet veil from your face and wiped the clotted liquid off of your nose and mouth, putting an oxygen mask on your face "Y/N!" The voice seemed familiar, but you were too weak to respond "Y/N!" He cried for your attention, his trembling hands shaking your shoulders, his voice muffled by his mask, his hold was pushed away from you when you felt a sharp pain on your neck, the detoxing liquid surged in your veins forward by copious amounts, yet you were already unconscious to see your father cry silently as he held your body close to his chest. Poor girl...poor poor girl...he wished he was there sooner.

Your nanny had pulled the small phone behind her apron with trembling hands, she knew your actions had consequences, but she wanted you to feel happy, so she'd do anything in her power to ensure it'd happen. You quickly snatched the phone out of her calloused hands and started to take the number you had repeated over and over in your mind since the moment you had snuck into your mother's study and had found it deep in her files, it was the Wayne Manor's, where your Damian lived with your father. You were separated since birth, him getting most of the attention of your mother, well the one who was to be her weapon, you were too weak to fight from the very first moments you had started to walk, but still, you tried to have a connection with your twin, who even if neglected your attention or bullied you, still felt a twinge of sibling love deep down. It was not until when he was sent to live by his father that Damian had found out how much he dearly loved you, and how much you meant to him. You dialed the number, hearing it slowly beep, one...two...three...you could hear your nervous breaths into the phone, and four "Hello?" You stiffened at hearing Damian's voice, moving your lips to speak but you couldn't, the sheer luck of having him pick up the phone himself was too much! "Hello?!" Damian's voice turned sour with annoyance, you knew he'd hung up quickly so you finally spoke "Hi..."

"Y/N?!" Damian's voice had turned from annoyed into one of surprise and concern, you spoke softly, asking how he had been doing, smiling as he quickly stammered to answer you, but then, when he was rambling on about missing you, you smiled sadly "Hey...I wanted to tell you something..." you interrupted him "Hmm? What is it?" He had asked with curiosity "Please, forgive me if I've done you anything wrong...okay?" "W-wait...Y/N..what do you? What is happening?!" "Grandpa wants to marry me off...to death..." and there was silence, a very uncomfortable silence. "I will come..." his voice was now filled with determination "I will come, I promise!...w-when's is the ceremony?" "Within two weeks-" the phone had slipped off of your hand when your mother's stinging slap met your face, you turned to look at her with wide eyes, trembling as you heard her crush the phone under her feet.

Your eyes opened up to a white light, with warmth surrounding your body. Were you in heaven? You naively asked yourself, but when the pain washed over your body, you knew you were still alive. "Hi..." Damian's voice made you turn your head to his direction at your side, your neck strained from being motionless for too long. He was holding your hand tightly, and your blurry vision could find the outlines of his face in what you could recognize as crying. "Welcome back..." his voice trembled as he sniffled, adjusting the oxygen mask on your face. You blind a few times to make your vision better, still, it felt a little blurry, but you could at least recognize you were somewhere dark, which you'd find out was the Batcave in the future, and Damian was sitting on your side. Your lips curled upwards slightly at how he held your hand to his chest, looking at you affectionately "Sorry I was late..." he spoke softly "But I will make things right from now on, I promise" he promised, and he would do anything in his power to ensure that.

[askinkiskarma]

Okay imagine this. Neteyam and reader having a moment and get interrupted my tuk. Of course her being little doesn't know what she saw. Until its dinner time and she brings it up . Out loud ....infront of the entire clan.

i would actually die if this happened to me ngl

enjoy anonnie x

wc: 500 words

Na'vi words used: yawne - beloved, prrnen - baby, sa'nok - mother, tskmuke - sister

"Baby, you have to keep it down, people are going to hear you."

"Let them hear, yawne. What's wrong with everyone hearing how good you fuck me every night?"

Famous last words.

Suffice it to say you were mortified. It's not everyday your baby sister... or Neteyam's baby sister, in fact, but at this point, she might as well be yours... walks in on you... doing things... things that no child should ever see, things that no adult should ever have to explain to a child, things that were so beyond what you could reasonably justify. To be fair, though, the flap of the tent was closed, and it was the middle of the night, and you were making noises that pretty much every other human being over the age of like 15 would be able to gauge for what they were and keep a respectable distance. But Tuk... sweet Tuk, innocent Tuk, the-cutest-pie-to-ever-live Tuk, she was attracted by the noises that she thought were indicative of you being in pain. That, in addition to the fact she was rudely awoken by Lo'ak's incessant snores again and felt she would fare better sleeping in your tent, led to this horrifying moment of blind panic and haphazard movements, trying to untangle your limbs and cover your bodies in sheets and blankets.

"Are you alright?"

"Oh, my God, Tuk! What are you doing here, baby?"

"I thought you were hurt, you were screaming!"

Neteyam couldn't help the burst of laughter that escaped him, and neither could you help the scowl that you sent in his direction.

"Oh, baby. I'm alright, I just had a... cramp. Neteyam was on top of me because he was... helping me... massage the spot where it hurt."

The next morning, you forcefully placed a pack of nose strips that you stole from Norm in Lo'ak's hand.

"Here. Use them."

"Why?"

"Because your snoring will bring this family to its knees."

Lo'ak raised an eyebrow at your annoyed disposition.

"You don't even sleep in the same tent as us."

"Yes, but Tuk does. And she can't sleep because of you."

"Yes! I had to sleep in brother and sister's tent last night because of you, Lo'ak!"

You looked at Neteyam from the corner of your eye, praying that the conversation ends there.

"Oh, ma prrnen, did you sleep well at least?" Neytiri came close and knelt by her baby's side, patting her head affectionately.

"Not that well, sa'nok. I was worried for tsmuke since I didn't want another cramp to hurt her, she was in a lot of pain when I came in. But whatever Neteyam was doing on top of her seemed to help, so I thought I could help too if she had another cramp."

You groaned, feeling an actual cramp coming when all the heads in the room snapped in your direction, and as soon as Lo'ak and Jake started cackling and Kiri started making gagging noises, you knew you would never hear the end of this.

[itsgreti]

UNSPOKEN FEELINGS

pairing. james beaufort x f!reader

summary. james realizes he has deeper feelings for lydia's best friend.

warning. slight cursing, mentions of cheating

word count. 1.4k

a/n: i just watched maxton hall and felt the urge to write a quick fic. english is my second language, so if you find any mistakes, don't hesitate and text me! (divider is made by rookthornesartistry)

The prestigious campus of Maxton Hall Boarding School was a world itself, where the rich teenage life unfolded in all its complexity. Among its many students were James Beaufort, the charming and popular heartthrob, and his twin sister Lydia, known for her big mouth, but besides that, intelligence. (Y/N) was Lydia's best friend since they were toddlers, and because of that she often finds herself in the company of the Beauforts. Despite this, (Y/N) felt like a shadow, always in the background and unnoticed by James. His attractive presence draws attention, as he walks around the hallway, towering over others, always surrounded by admirers. Like everyone in the school, (Y/N) also had a crush on him, but she knew she would always be only his little sister’s friend. And she had long accepted that.

The (Y/L/N) family is famous internationally, because of their luxurious, high-quality dresses. They often collaborate with the market-leading fashion brand, Young Beaufort. But (Y/N) usually wished for just a simple way of life, without fame. All the children, who inherit their family’s legacy, are burdened by the weight of expectations and pressure.

To make things worse, it was a chilly afternoon when (Y/N)'s world shattered. She had been dating a boy from another school, a relationship that seemed promising but ended in betrayal and heartbreak. The boy had just played with her, and thrown away her without a second thought. (Y/N) was devastated and hurt.

Lydia was away on a school trip, leaving (Y/N) with her emotions alone. She wandered the campus aimlessly, eventually finding an isolated bench near the gardens, where she let the tears flow freely.

Unaware of (Y/N), James had noticed her distressed state from afar. He had been passing by when he saw her sitting alone, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Concerned, he approached quietly, unsure of how to begin.

"(Y/N)," he said softly, startling them. "Are you okay?"

(Y/N) quickly wiped her tears, attempting to make herself presentable. "Oh, James. I'm fine. Just... having a rough day."

James sat down beside her, his expression gentle but insistent. "You don't look fine. What happened?"

The unexpected kindness in his voice broke through (Y/N)'s defences. She looked at him, eyes filled with pain, and sighed. "It's just... this guy I was dating. He turned out to be a jerk. He used me and then just... dumped me."

James's jaw tightened, a flash of anger in his eyes. "Who is he?"

"It doesn’t matter. He’s not from Maxton Hall." (Y/N) shrugged her shoulders.

When James heard the pain in her voice, he decided to deal with her now, and it will be enough later to get to know about that asshole. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). You didn't deserve that."

(Y/N) shook her head, feeling small and insignificant. "I should have seen it coming. I'm not exactly someone would notice."

James frowned, shifting closer. "That's not true. People notice you, (Y/N). I notice you."

(Y/N) looked at him in surprise. "You... notice me?" she said with irony.

James was confused, but nodded, his gaze sincere. "Of course I do." (Y/N)’s heart skipped a beat hearing those words. "You're important to Lydia, which makes you important to me. And beyond that, you're a great person. Anyone would be lucky to have you in their life."

The warmth in his words and the intensity of his gaze made (Y/N) feel a flicker of hope. She had always seen James as someone out of reach, but here he was, sitting beside her, offering comfort and understanding.

"Thank you, James," she whispered, feeling the weight of her sadness begins to lift. "It means a lot."

James smiled softly, his hand reaching out to gently squeeze hers. "I do care about you, (Y/N). And if that guy couldn't see how amazing you are, then he's the one who's missing out."

For a moment, they sat in comfortable silence, the cold air around them a sharp contrast to the warmth blossoming in (Y/N)'s heart. James's presence was a balm to their wounded soul, a reminder that she was not alone.

"Do you want to talk more about it?" James asked, his voice gentle. "Or maybe we can just sit here for a while. Whatever you need."

(Y/N) smiled, feeling a sense of gratitude and a newfound connection. "Sitting here is nice. Thank you, James," she said feeling his arms pull her into a hug.

As they sat together, (Y/N) realized that maybe, just maybe, she had been wrong about James’s emotions towards her. Perhaps he had been seeing her all along, and in this moment of weakness, she had realised that her feelings for her had not changed over the years.

The weeks following that emotional afternoon saw a gradual but significant shift in the dynamics between James and (Y/N). Where once their interactions were only about polite nods and casual greetings, now there were shared moments, conversations, and a growing sense of friendship.

James found himself looking forward to seeing (Y/N) more than he ever anticipated. Her presence was comforting, her laughter infectious, and her perspectives refreshing. He was drawn to (Y/N) in a way that was new and unexpected, and it unsettled him in the best possible way. He finally had to admit that he had lied to himself all the years when he said he didn’t care about (Y/N).

(Y/N) felt the change too. She was still close to Lydia, but now James seemed to seek her out independently. He'd join them for lunch, walk with them between classes, and even invite them to hang out with his friends, to where (Y/N) always refused to go and eventually Lydia accepted it. It was confusing but exhilarating.

One evening, while Lydia was busy with her extracurricular activities, James invited (Y/N) to study with him at a cosy coffee shop off-campus. They settled into a quiet corner, books and notebooks spread out before them.

"You know," James said, looking up from his notes, "I never realized how much fun studying could be until I started doing it with you."

(Y/N) laughed softly, their cheeks flushing. "I have never thought that once in my lifetime I will hear that from the mouth of James Beaufort, but I think you just enjoy the coffee and the company."

James smiled, but there was a depth to his gaze that made (Y/N) look away shyly. "You're right about that. But it's more than that. You're different, (Y/N). In a good way. You make everything better."

(Y/N) felt her heart skip a beat. The sincerity in his voice was undeniable. "Thanks. Spending time with you isn't that bad either."

As the weeks went on, James's feelings for (Y/N) deepened. He found himself thinking about her at odd times, daydreaming about their future conversations, and feeling jealous when he saw her with others. It was during one of these moments when he saw (Y/N) laughing with Cyril, that he realized the truth: he had fallen for (Y/N).

The next day, James asked (Y/N) to meet him in the gardens where they had first bonded. The air was cool, the sky painted with the hues of sunset.

"(Y/N)," James began, taking a deep breath. "There's something I need to tell you."

(Y/N) looked at him, concern flickering in their eyes. "What is it?"

"I've been thinking a lot, and I realized something important," he continued, his voice steady but his heart racing. "That day when you sat with me here, something changed for me. Spending time with you, getting to know you better... I've come to realize that I have feelings for you. Romantic feelings."

(Y/N) stared at him, her breath catching in their throat. "James, I... I-"

James stepped closer, his eyes locked on her. "You don't have to say anything right now. I just needed you to know how I feel. Whatever you decide, our friendship means a lot to me, and I don't want to lose that."

Tears welled up in (Y/N)'s eyes, but they were tears of happiness and relief. "James, I feel the same way. I've liked you for a long time, but I never thought you'd feel the same."

James's face broke into a radiant smile, and he reached out to gently hold (Y/N)'s face in his hands. With that, James leaned in, closing the distance between them. Their lips met in a soft, tender kiss, a perfect blend of nervous excitement and genuine affection.

As they pulled away, both of them breathless and smiling, James whispered, "I've wanted to do that for so long."

(Y/N) smiled back, her eyes shining with happiness. "Me too."