#not my best work but still I hope it meets the request requirements

[lets-try-some-writing]

So a few days ago, I bumped into this.

That just made me think of how much ANGST this au would have. Like Team Prime leaves to restore Cybertron (Ratchet leaves too) once the war is over and a few months later, they come back to visit the kids only to find out they can’t remember them. The Autobots are not happy!

What are you headcannons on this? How exactly do you think the team finds out about the kids? Also, I was wondering if this could ignore the movie after S3 so Optimus can be alive here and Team Prime brought Cybertron back without any issues.

What a wonderfully angsty idea. Don't mind me while I expand upon it :)

Missing Memory

It took some effort to convince Ratchet to come along, but once the bots left for Cybertron, they were hopeful and promised the children they had cared for that they would come back soon. They did what was needed of them over the course of around a year. Optimus collected the Allspark, the team worked to rebuild, and once Cybertron was restored the team stayed for a while to ensure the bare bones of a new government got set up. Then, as promised, they returned to earth to check up on their human wards.

They were met with something they could have never expected.

Upon stepping through the space bridge, they were met with increadible awe and weapons raised at them the moment they entered the premise of the military base they had called home previously. It shocked the team as they had not been gone all that long in the grand scheme of things, but still they raised their servos up as a show of goodwill and asked to speak with their assigned agent. However before they could so much as get another word in, the humans open fired on them, even going so far as to use missile launchers and tanks to try and fight.

The team were in total shock as they threw themselves into their alt-modes and sped away. Optimus took to the skies and did his best to lead the human aircraft following the team away and somewhere they could not go. Meanwhile on the ground the team split up, each spreading out and making a mad dash across the states. They kept in contact over comm links, but remained on the run for days, swapping alt-modes more often than they cared to count all while having no fragging clue what was going on.

When they left earth a year prior they were on good terms with the government, then all the sudden they were being shot on sight. When the team did gather again after around a week of trying to keep the government off them, they tried to find out what had really gone on. Residing in an old scrap yard and taking on alt-modes that were as ordinary as possible (that is save for Optimus who was forced to forgo taking on a alt-mode altogether because of his size) the team spread out to search for their human partners to get answers. Calling for aid from Cybertron granted Ratchet and Optimus access to the materials needed to set up a base without the aid of the human government, hiding them from the prying eyes of humans with the use of cloakers. All the while the team, save for Knockout who opted to remain on Cybertron throughout the debacle, quietly began doing recon to find their human wards.

With some help from a few agents on Cybertron, Ratchet and Optimus worked their way through a starting number of encryptions and firewalls to find the children. To their relief the children were all still in the Americas. But they were all scattered, with Jack living in Texas, Rafael in Washington, and Miko all the way in Hawaii. It was suspicious as pit once the dots started to connect.

Agent Fowler had up and disappeared, the government had deemed them a shoot on sight type target, and the children had been thrown all across the continent. It was the type of suspicious set of coincidences that the old Council on Cybertron would have waved off or forcefully silenced any who spoke of it. That alone was enough for Optimus to make an executive decision and send out three of the team to retrieve the children and bring them to base unharmed for questioning. Bumblebee, Bulkhead, and Arcee were deployed and quickly made their way to their individual wards homes. It was not difficult to find their location with Ratchet supplying them data, but what startled them was the startling amount of security at each of the children's homes.

Armed soldiers patrolled the property of the children's homes and no amount of sneaking was going to get a bot into the residence and out with a child without causing a scene. It almost was enough to have Optimus call the team back... but it was all too suspicious. The humans were obviously keeping something important from them and they needed to know the truth. So giving a command he had never hoped to give, Optimus issued the order for the team to transform and collect the children even if it meant conflict. He was near certain the children would be safer with them than with the soldiers, if for no other reason than because the children knew them.

The order was followed, albeit with slight hesitation. Bumblebee transformed as he few over the walls surrounding Rafael's home, and then praying slightly for forgiveness, he scanned the buildings even as bullets flew at him. He then punched a hole through a wall and pulled his ward out as carefully as he could. He wasn't startled when Rafael screamed and flailed, after all a huge servo busting through the wall and grabbing you isn't exactly fun. As such he put Rafael into his passenger seat and flew down the road as more firearms were turned on him before going through the groundbridge Ratchet called for him.

Bulkhead didn't bother with any kind of subtly and brushed off bullets and even a small missile with no issues as he barreled onto Miko's property, busting a hole through her home as well to grab her. It was difficult since she screamed the whole time and tried to scurry away, but eventually he got her and did his best to calm her as he put her in his passenger seat and similarly drove through the groundbridge called for him. As for Arcee? She used her small size to drive through the door of Jack's home before anyone could stop her, and then she hurriedly transformed as well as she was able in the small space and grabbed the two humans inside. Jack and June also screamed in terror as she picked them up and made a dash for the groundbridge.

Once the team arrived at base with their charges, Optimus and Ratchet closed the groundbridges they had called and secured the area, ensuring no eyes could see them, human or otherwise. When this was done, the team placed their human charges down, causing June and the children to shy away in fear. Ultra Magnus watched on in concern as he saw their reaction and stepped aside with Ratchet and Optimus to discuss a possibility he was not fond of bringing up. As they did that, the team tried in vain to try and get the humans to recall them and calm.

Jack: What the hell are you!?

Smokescreen: Heyo little buddy! Don't you remember me? It's me, Smokescreen!

Jack: I don't know who you are or what you want, but leave me and my mom alone!

Arcee: Jack, what's going on? It's just us, the Autobots.

June: Stay away you things! Don't touch us!

Bulkhead: Miko, you remember me right? We're Wreckers! You, me, Jackie, and Magus are a team!

Miko: I don't know you... but you seem to know us.

Wheeljack: Of course we know you kiddo! We've fought together! We were a team for over a year!

Miko: I don't remember any of that.

Bumblebee: Rafael, please, tell me you remember me at least. Somewhere you must remember...

Rafael: I'm sorry, but I don't know who you are...

Bumblebee: That can't be! You don't just forget a whole year!

As the team tried in vain to make the humans remember, Optimus, Ratchet, and Ultra Magnus came to a dark conclusion. Ratchet took a few scans from a distance, but that alone was enough to pick out the primitive technology that had been used on the humans. The Council had done similar things to the minds of rebellious bots, and it was so common that the three knew exactly what to look for. When they found the signs of a memory wipe on the humans based on their brain activity and general scans, Ratchet nearly shattered his datapad and both Ultra Magnus and Optimus almost burst circuitry in rage.

Seeing this the team turned their attention to the trio in time for Ratchet to reveal what they had all been fearing.

Ratchet: They have been mind wiped, all the memories associated with us and our conflicts have been completely cleared.

June: What on earth are you talking about!?

Optimus: You do not remember, but nearly two and a half years ago we revealed ourselves to you by accident while fighting against our foes the Decepticons.

Ratchet: You worked alongside us for roughly a year and a half while we battled our foes to stop them from destroying your planet and dooming ours.

Optimus: However an earth year ago we completed our mission and defeated our foes. And so we returned to our homeworld to oversee its restoration.

Miko: You mean we fought with you!? Wow!

Bulkhead: Yeah... you did. And you fought well.

Optimus: We left with a promise to return in a year's time. That time has passed and so we returned to your world to check up on you.

Ultra Magnus: However it seems your government has used taboo alteration technology, primitive as it is, to remove any memories you had of us or your association with us.

Jack: You mean we forgot everything? A whole year?

Rafael: But how!? That shouldn't be possible!

Ratchet: We don't know how or why, we just know that it was done and now there is no changing it.

The humans were left in shock and the team in mourning for all that had been lost. Bulkhead and Wheeljack were physically pained by the loss of the Miko they knew. Bumblebee looked like he wanted to cry and he eventually moved to hug Optimus as a way to try and stave off some of the sorrow. Arcee appeared most distraught, her adopted son of sorts having forgotten all about her. Ultra Magnus was largely composed, but his fists clenched in anger as he watched the humans scramble for memories they no longer had and the team grieve. Smokescreen seemed lost more than anything else, not knowing who to comfort or what to do. Ratchet worked feverishly to see if there was a way to undo the work done on the humans. And Optimus... Optimus was wrathful and silently began tapping away at his console, searching for the only remaining human who might have answers.

They needed Agent Fowler.

It took weeks of effort on Optimus's part while the team cared for the humans, keeping them at base where it was safe while also simultaneously making trips back to Cybertron to continue reconstruction efforts during downtime. It was surprisingly hard for Optimus to dig around in the human datanet to try and find the missing agent. But eventually, just when the team were finally reconnecting with the humans by regaling them with tales and showing them videos of their time together, Optimus found Fowler.

The agent was being kept hidden away in some facility, one that Optimus, during the dead of night, had exactly zero issues busting into once he found out what was going on down there. The bodies of Cybertronian dead, abandoned weaponry, and even torn plating was being studied and taken apart for the human scientists. Optimus burned every such room he found in the facility to the ground, destroying or confiscating anything belonging to his kind. Then he found Fowler tied up in a dark room, seemingly having been interrogated for any and all information on Cybertronians he might have had. Optimus quickly gathered up the agent and decisively moved to leave, of course not without jacking up all the data the humans had collected.

When all was said and done, the team had four humans who remembered squat about their time together, an agent who was mentally unstable and stuck in a comatose state, and a government that was corrupt enough to be tearing their dead apart for science. The team were ready to raise hell for it.

[onmyyan]

hi again i'm the Anon who asked if you take commisions only or requests as well. I love your writing style<3

Soo could you write about Batmom reader, where reader took care of bruce's children as her own. But then bruce gets a mistress, reader still stays becuz of the kids but when everyone started to become cold to her and insult her ' X (mistress) is better mom then you ever were' she leaves gonthem. Then everyone realises she (mistress) was just after their money. They go to batmom's room to apologize only to find it empty. They try to find her everywhere but couldn't. And finally when they do, reader rejects them since she was having the time of her life without responsibilty but gets kiddnapped by the batfam?

Honestly i wanted to commision but i'm flat broke and i'm too busy studying to work and on top of that i don't have my own phone (i use my dad's old laptop) soo yeah... I hope you consider this.

A/N: Loooove this request thank you for sending it in <3 fem reader yandere themes lmk if you want a part two

The (L/n)'s were a wealthy and prominent family in Gotham, right up there with the Wayne's when it came to power over the city, the two families were in business together which is why when Bruce Wayne personal attorney came to you with a marriage proposal, you weren't surprised.

A marriage of convenience. You thought you knew what this would entitle, you knew this wasn't out of love, that this was required of you, it had nothing to do with what you actually wanted, but you were dutiful and signed, inking your name on the paper felt like a deal with the devil.

Bruce hadn't bothered to officially meet you until the day of the wedding, it was beautiful and well done but lacking any form of love of affection, CEOs and other rich folk you didn't recognize filled the pews, the ring felt cold when he slipped it on, his vows perfectly rehearsed, and not an ounce of warmth in his eyes, you knew that night you should have annulled the marriage, but something made you hold on, something your mother had said to you as the makeup artist turned you into the visage of a bride.

"You'll learn to love each other, your father and I did after all." And she wasn't lying, your parents married for convenience as well but had grown to love one another, so maybe you could do the same?

A year after the nuptials Dick Grayson is thrust into your life. Haley's circus was famous in Gotham for its incredible death defying shows, but on this night death would walk the stage, taking with them Dick Grayson's parents in a horrible display, You and Bruce had consoled the boy for only a moment before Bruce was talking to the officers, he'd decided Dick was coming home with you, of course without asking your opinion, but it didn't matter, you felt such pity and grief for the boy, it made perfect sense to you, he was shut down for the first few months, he called you by your name and you had no problem with it, making it clear you never wanted to try and replace his mother, the ice between you two melted one day, one kind word at a time, he couldn't help but confide in you about school or his friends, because you were more emotionally there than Bruce was.

Like the night you caught him sneaking out, a packed bag in hand and the keys to one of Bruce's many cars in his hand. Instead of yelling for Bruce or Alfred you simply smiled at him, "you should take the audi, it's the safest car here."

"..You're not going to try and stop me?"

You shake your head no, still offering that kind smile.

"You know yourself best Dick, if you're unhappy here I won't stop you from finding your peace." He took a moment before tossing you the keys and reluctantly making his way back inside.

You find out about Batman because of Dick. He'd come home with some nasty bruises and it wouldn't take long to put two and two together. Them both being missing at the same time, Dick started to pull away from you, one night, after hours of trying to get to sleep in a bed much to big for one body, your legs decided a walk was necessary, the halls were dark and quiet, giving the manor an eerie air, quietly you walked the long hallways intending on stopping by the library, as you turned the corner you seen Dick in a hidden elevator, the doors just slamming shut as your eyes tried to register what was there. Seconds after the doors close a wall appears, as if nothing was ever there. It's not long after that you see a brief news clip of the caped crusader and his new sidekick, because the longer you stared at the screen, the more familiar they began to look, that dead tight lipped scowl on Batman's face, it was one you'd had the pleasure of looking at for the past few years.

That night you confronted Bruce, he seemed surprised you'd figured it out, but he didn't deny it. Simply saying, "It's late (Y/n), get some sleep."

You nearly divorced him then and there for endangering a child the way he was, but after a moment of thought, you realized Dick would need a real parent around so you stayed, making Bruce swear to be careful.

Jason comes next and he takes to you a lot faster than Dick. He craved the warmth you offered, you two had inside jokes and a closer relationship than him and Bruce, but that all changes the day he dies. You're broken, a ghost haunting the manor with your presence, and Bruce is no comfort throwing himself into the Batman role, you begin to hate him a little with this particular betrayal.

Tim was another hard egg to crack but you were desperate after Jason's death, so you took his verbal lashings with a smile, were always there to offer a helping hand with any of his projects despite the help never being accepted. Tims wound from losing his father is too raw, he takes a lot of his anger out on you. And you weathered the storm with a soft, warm smile.

Damian hated you, from the moment he arrives, which is bitter enough as is because it meant Bruce was unfaithful, he's spitting out insults and comparing you to his 'perfect' mother.

Things weren't great in your life, but one day they started getting noticably worse. Dick no longer responded to your check in texts, Jason (now reanimated which was a heart attack in and of itself) saw you as the enemy, you didn't leave Bruce after what happened to him, so in his eyes you betrayed him, Tim ignored your existence as best as he could, and Damian? He'd started staring at you with this smug look on his face, like he knew something you didn't.

Bruce had all but ran from you, he didn't sleep in your shared room anymore, he barely spoke to you at breakfast, if it wasn't for the cameras he wouldn't touch you.

And it's all because of a woman named Rachel.

Apparently Bruce had introduced this woman to the family, bringing her around when you weren't, slowly replacing you, it was no wonder they started to pull back.

Alfred is the only reason you find out, having enough of the blatant disrespect, he calls you to come home early one day saying it's a dire matter. Of course you comply, and walk in on a discomforting sight. The whole family was gathered at the dining room table, plus a woman you'd never seen before, she sat close to Bruce, toying with his hand intimately. Her green eyes lock with yours and the smile she gives you forms a pit in your stomach.

There's silence before Bruce stands up, he walks over calmly, "Can we take this in the other room." But it wasn't phrased as a question.

"No" you licked your lips, a nervous habit from your youth. Bruce seemed taken back by your sudden backbone. He nods silently.

"I want her gone Bruce. I am your wife. You will show me that semblance of respect."

"I- of course." You don't wait for the words to settle instead, you calmly walk to your room, face unreadable.

Locking the door behind you, your body slides against the frame, a silent sob wracks your frame, your hands covering your mouth, you wouldn't give them the satisfaction of hearing your cries.

The next morning you wake up to breakfast in bed, a generic yet elegant spread of food lay on a tray in the empty spot Bruce used to stay. The man himself sitting in the chair beside the bed, staring at you with that practiced smile he used to appease people.

"Good morning."

"What's this?" You sat up straight, sleep evaporating from your form as you took in the threat before you.

"An apology. I never meant for yesterday to happen."

"What a comfort that is." Your piercing (e/c) eyes stare at him blankly, unreadable. "How long."

"A year." You scoff pushing the breakfast away from you like it was poisonous. "But its not what you think, Rachel is a childhood friend, a year ago our relationship, evolved into what it is now, but I was never intending to go behind your back."

"Ah of course, your intentions were pure." The words dripped venom, grabbing your robe you quickly dress before standing and walking to the door, "Thank you for the wonderful talk Bruce, really your people skills are top notch." Your hands gesture to the door. He leaves without a word.

The rest of the day is as usual, Bruce avoids you like the plague, the rest of the family acted as if you weren't there. Which made leaving all too easy.

Your lawyers had the divorce papers ready and hour after you called them, signing them felt like the first act of self love you'd done in years. Slipping them into Bruce's study you took the time to analyze the room you never entered.

It matched Bruce that's for sure, pictures of every single person in the family. All except for you.

Walking out the door, wrapped in your ankle length black faux fur coat, the garment whipped in the wind, the designer sunglasses on your face hid your eyes from the world, hair in a slicked back bun, your heels echoed against the pavement, a sleek black car was waiting for you, you look back at the house that had caused you so much misery then got in the back of the car, never looking back.

Life goes on for about a week, your absence goes unnoticed, that is before Rachel is trying and failing to blackmail Bruce out of a billion dollars, she'd collected evidence he was cheating on you with her and presented it to Bruce with a grin, it was only as he went through the pictures of himself and Rachel, did he notice the yellow envelope with his name written on the front.

Hey puts the heartbreaking matter of Rachel's betrayal on the back burner, Bruce opened the envelope and felt his heart completely stop at the word divorce written in bold lettering across the top, your signature was already there, waiting for his to join it.

Ignoring Rachel completely now he turns in his chair, turning the paper over and over as if it would magically change. But it remained the same. Alfred knocking on the door of his study broke him from his trance. "Master Wayne, miss Rachel." He says the latter's name with no warmth. "Escort Rachel to her car Alfred."

"Bruce have you heard a word I've said? I'm serious I'll go to Gotham daily right now if you don't -"

"Now Alfred."

That was all it took for the screaming woman to be firmly escorted off the premises. Bruce all but ran to your room, he didn't bother knocking, and despite knowing in his heart you were already gone, he couldn't help but check anyway.

Your room was empty and cold, he couldn't believe the date he'd read on the divorce papers, it was dated a week ago, meaning you'd been gone for a week and he hadn't noticed. No one had.

That is until Bruce remembers there's someone in the house nothing gets by.

"How long have you known she was gone Alfred?" He asks leaning on his knuckles the divorce papers stared back at him taunting him. "Since the moment she left." The older man replied simply his hands behind his back. "Why didn't you tell me immediately?" Bruce felt himself tense, "Because you've hurt that woman enough Bruce. She deserves at least this." He gestures to the daunting divorce paperwork before turning to leave Bruce with his thoughts.

The news of Rachel's betrayal shook the manor each member feeling violated by their trust being broken. But it was nothing compared to their reaction once they finally realized you were gone.

"That was rough." Jason says after watching Rachel being dragged out of the manor, he blew air out of his cheeks arms crossed over his chest, he looked towards the hallway that lead to your room, you had to have heard that he thought to himself.

Dick sighs through his nose, "Someone should check on (y/n), Rachel was screaming so loud she definitely heard that." No one volunteers so Dick rolls his eyes and heads towards your room.

He lifts his hands to knock but noticed the door was open, pushing it further he's met with a baren room, his brow furrowed in confusion before he makes his way to Bruce's study. "Hey B, have you seen (y/n)? Her room is like weirdly empty."

Dick found his Father where Alfred left him, leaning over the divorce papers silently a storm in his eyes.

As he steps closer and reads the paperwork Bruce was staring so intently at, his heart stopped.

"Holy shit- are those real?"

"Yes." Bruce finally spoke his voice horse. There was a moment of silence before Dick left the room practically running down the stairs to alert the others.

"(Y/n) left Bruce." He said still processing the information, "No fuckin' way." Jason says pushing himself off the counter he leaned on. "Her room is empty and he has the papers, she's gone."

Each member of the family had different reactions to this information.

Dick tries calling you only to be met with a disconnected number, his heart hammering in his chest, he wasn't as close to you as when he was younger sure, but you were a constant in his life, always had been, a pillar of support, and suddenly you weren't. It felt like the floor had gotten pulled out from under him.

Jason curses under his breath, his mind working a mile a minute, he had barely spoken to you since his Resurrection, something he deeply regretted as the information of your leaving sinks in like a brick thrown into a river.

Tim, ever calculating is trying to figure out where you went, you were a figurehead in his life, someone that was literally never not there, sure he wasn't close to you in the slightest but that doesn't mean he wants anything to happen to you, someone as quiet and soft as you on your own in Gotham? It didn't sit well with him. Not one bit.

Damian didn't know what he was feeling at the news, he supposed he should feel nothing, after all you were nothing to him, but there was this nagging feeling in his chest that he couldn't quite place. And he hated it. How dare you leave and upset his fragile ecosystem?

Meanwhile in the Bahamas, far from Gotham and the neglectful family you'd left behind, you sat lounging on a private beach, a knitted hammock cradles your body, a designer baby pink bikini covers you, a matching sunhat protects your face from the hot sun, you can't wipe the smile from your face, humming a tune from your childhood you barely flinch when someone takes the seat besides your hammock.

"Do I want to know how you found me?" You ask, eyes still closed as you bask in the warmth. You knew only one person had the sources to find you on your own island, and despite how much you resent the man, even his presence can't ruin your shine in this moment.

"You're my wife (Y/n), I'll always know where you are." Bruce speaks softly as if trying not to startle you. "Former wife." You correct cracking an eye open, a small smirk curling on your lips.

"Not until I sign those papers- which I never will."

"huh, I thought you'd be thrilled." You muse to yourself before folding your tanning mirror and setting it aside, you take off your Louis Vuitton sunglasses, blinking your pretty (e/c) eyes up at him, "Figured you and your little Twinkie would have tied the knot by now." You laugh softly, the sound, unfamiliar to Bruce, sent warm shivers down his spine, it causes his lips to quirk up in a small grin.

"She's gone."

"Well, I don't care."

There's a beat of silence before he's offering you his hand. "Will you walk with me? I know I don't deserve it."

You sigh before getting up, ignoring his hand, you nod your head reluctantly, "Well? Hurry up I've got dinner at six."

His smile remains as he begins leading you along the shoreline. It's relatively quiet between you two as you walk side by side, a peace between you both you hadn't ever felt. "The manor isn't the same without you." He breaks the silence, "I sincerely doubt that." You laugh at the very notion. "It's true- it's colder, quieter, I want you to come home."

"That was never my home, you made that abundantly clear."

He winces as if your words cut him, "I know I haven't been a good man to you, I know I've failed you time and time again but I..I looked at those divorce papers and my heart stopped." He admits running a hand through his hair.

"You can't leave me."

"I can't?." You scoff, your movement halting, "I'm a grown woman- I'm taking responsibility for my own happiness, you can't stop me."

"I wasn't asking." He says softly, his hands in his pockets, he had this fond look on his face, like he was staring at you for the first time, in a whole new light. "You can't make me." You say, brows furrowed, "You belong back home, you're supposed to be with me, till death do us part, remember?" He steps forward making you step back, your eyes wide, hands shaking, you back into a wide chest, spinning to face Dick, who's grinning at you, he's in his Nightwing costume, he gives you a small wave of his hand, you scrunch your face in confusion, "What the hell-" your thought is cut off by a small pinch in your neck, the needle in Bruce's hand is empty in seconds, he's cradling your stumbling form, holding you tightly, "Don't worry - I'll fix this."

Your sleeping body is gently carried to the batplane, Bruce holding you close to his chest as Dick pilots the plane, he whispers promises into your hair, rocking you against him as he swears on his life to make things right, weather you liked it or not.

[aemondsbabe]

Duty & Sacrifice | Claimant Pt 2

summary: your wedding to jace will happen whether you and aemond like it or not; even still, you know where you truly belong

pairing: dark!brother!aemond x sister!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, dark aemond, threats against jace, jace slander do not come at me you were warned, blood purest aemond like he's voldemort coded idk he loves that valyrian o neg, breeding kink, fingering, unprotected sex, piv sex, biting, brief hand on neck, possessive aemond, obsessive aemond, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 3.7k

a/n: big thank you to @rabbit-hearted for sending a request for more dark!aemond! i hope you enjoy!! dark aemond was a bit toned down in this one but he (and the reader) will be going unhinged psycho in part 3 uwu

gif creds to @aemondtargaryensource

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🔪read part 1 here!

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“Oh, you look absolutely beautiful, Princess,” your lady’s maid coos over your shoulder while she finishes tying the laces at the back of your gown, eliciting a chorus of echoing hums and titters of agreement from the other women fluttering about your chambers. 

“Thank you, Kella,” you murmur, meeting her gaze in the mirror, your lips stretched into a thin, tight smile. Even in your periphery, the sight of the ivory dress makes your stomach turn and twist into barbarous knots and you quickly glance away. You try to ignore the pang of guilt that eats at your heart as you keep your eyes trained on the shelves beside the mirror, silently reciting the name of each book stacked on them over and over again, anything to keep your mind occupied. 

It only halfway works, just as it had every time before – every other time you stood in this exact same spot as the tailor measured and fitted your dress, as you discussed hairstyles with your maids, as you chose jewelry with your mother. Helaena had spent weeks, hours upon hours, sewing bead after bead into the alabaster fabric, creating intricate patterns of florals giving way to flames, and you could hardly bring yourself to look at it. 

If I don’t look, it’s not real. If I don’t look, it’s not real, the words, foolish as they were, echoed in your mind for the millionth time as your maids added final touches to your outfit – sliding your feet into shoes and clasping on various ornate jewels. 

“Should we finish the hair first or get the cloak on first?” You hear one of your lady’s maids ask another, somewhere off to the side. 

“Mm, I think the cloak,” another one answers; you can hear the doors of your wardrobe being pulled open, “Her tiara may get snagged otherwise.”

Glimmers of red from the small garnet gemstones decorating your gown create bloody splotches in your periphery as morning sunlight filters through your windows; your mind begins to wander again despite your best efforts and crimson quickly gives way to hues of sapphire. Absent-mindedly, you dig your nails into your cuticles as you recall that night. The events play out behind your eyes like they have time and time again in the weeks between then and now – the pin-pricked chill you’d felt from his gaze, the way his whispered promises made your heart ache with a confusing whirlwind of longing and dread, the way his hands had felt against your skin. The sound of your blood pumping wildly in your veins drowns out any other noise as his voice echoes in your head. 

“Prove your devotion to me, my Strong girl,” he had commanded, directing your attention to the hilt of his dagger. And you had, the memories of it make you shiver even now. 

You had.

But it didn’t matter because here you are, clad in an ivory gown that may as well be a death shroud for all the joy it brings you.

“Princess?” A little gasp falls from your lips as you’re hoisted out of your reverie and your eyes finally focus on Kella standing before you, matching cloak in hand. 

“My apologies,” you say, managing a little chuckle, “I’m not sure where my head was at.” 

“No trouble, Princess,” Kella smiles, waving a hand dismissively, “I’m sure you’re eager to get the day started, marrying a prince and all.”

“Eager, yes,” you sigh, forced smile falling flat the second she looks away. The back of your throat tightens when you catch sight of yourself in the mirror and, for the umpteenth time today, you try desperately to ignore the urge to run – to sprint all the way to the Dragonpit, mount Silverwing, and go. Instead, you swallow down the sick feeling in your gut and compel yourself to be still as Kella drapes the cloak over your shoulders, the red silk underlining enveloping you in a sanguine veil. 

Just as she’s about to fasten it to the little ties at the shoulders of your gown, the doors to your chambers bang open, causing both of you to jump as your heads whip toward the sound of the noise. 

“Prince Aemond,” Kella says breathlessly, draping the cloak over an arm and curtsying politely. 

“Get out,” he murmurs lowly, violet eye not moving from yours as he stands at the doorway, arms tucked behind his back, “I wish to have a moment alone with my sister.” Your heart hammers so wildly that you’re amazed the sound of it doesn’t echo off the walls – that it doesn’t burst in your chest. 

You don’t miss the uncertain glances your maids give one another, though they ultimately nod their heads. A small chorus of, “Yes, your highness,” rises around you as they scurry from the room; Kella quickly drapes your cloak over the back of your vanity chair before leaving as well, the doors to your chambers closing behind her. 

Aemond quickly locks them, the barest hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his lips for a precious second as he does so, before turning to you. Your brows furrow as nervousness builds within you, nails digging into your cuticles as you desperately study the neutral expression on his face as he stalks toward you. 

“Don’t you look breathtaking, sweet sister,” his eye sweeps over your form as he speaks and you feel as if every ounce of air is pressed from your lungs when he gently grasps at your chin, angling your face up toward his when he comes to a stop before you. 

“How did you get in here?” You question, hating how feeble your voice sounds, how your heart slows the second he touches you. Your question is a valid one, though – your mother had taken great caution in the weeks following the night of your betrothal feast to keep you and your brother as separated as possible. 

He chuckles as he tilts your face to the side, exposing your neck. “Someone may have delivered an anonymous tip to Cole informing him of a supposed smallfolk revolt brewing in Flea Bottom,” you don’t miss the twitch of a victorious smile on his lips, “Of course, the Gold Cloaks had to attend to it – we wouldn’t want anything ruining such a… joyous day. Once they were gone, it was easy enough to slip from the Sept and make my way back here.”

“You’ve been planning,” his eye stays fixed on the ruby necklace clasped around your neck as you speak, though he hums in acknowledgement at your words. After another few seconds of heavy silence, you cannot help but huff and jerk your chin from his careful grip, “Did you come here to merely ogle at me or do you need something?”

“Mm,” he hums, narrowing his eye for just the barest of seconds, “There is something I need indeed, Strong girl.”

“Don’t call me that!” You snap, the little huff of laughter he gives only makes you more agitated. He turns his back to you and stalks over to your vanity; it’s only then that you see he’s holding a small box behind his back, “What is that?”

“Only a little wedding present,” Aemond drawls, violet eye meeting yours in the mirror as he runs his fingers over the soft ivory silk of your cloak; his nose twitches in disgust, the most subtle of movements that you’re sure only you are able to spot. 

“Can… can I see it?”

Another twitch of his lips, a little pulling at the corners, just enough for you to know he’s satisfied about something, makes your heart squeeze in your chest. Whatever game he’s playing at, whatever imaginary battle he’s thought up in his mind, he’s winning. 

Am I even fighting back? Do I want to?

Silently, he makes his way back over to you, each heavy step a nail in your proverbial coffin. He’s standing before you again, long hair spilling over the shoulders of his tunic like a pearlescent waterfall, held back from his face by two thin braids that join in the back. 

Finally, he opens the box, carefully sliding the lid off. Your lips part as you stare down at the contents, eyes as wide as the moon as it feels like all the air has been sucked from the room. 

“I had it made by the finest craftsman in the city,” he murmurs, eye gleaming with pride at your stunned reaction, “Do you like it, little one?”

“I… Aemond, I…,” you stammer, at a loss for words as you look over the necklace resting on a bed of soft cloth. Made from a breathtaking assortment of pearls, the attention to detail is immaculate; each milky white stone is threaded onto a fine silver chain, all leading to a gleaming deep blue sapphire in the center, framed by the figure of a small silver dragon. “I-It’s gorgeous, brother, I… thank you.”

“You deserve only the best,” he purrs, watching closely as you reach up and carefully run your fingers over the glittering stones, “Shall I put it on you?”

“I already have a neck –” You start, only for a loud gasp to rip itself from your throat as Aemond tears the ruby necklace from you, the delicate gold chains easily snapping and sending dozens of tiny rosy stones clattering to the floor. All you can do is gape at him, one hand grazing against the place on your neck where the necklace once sat. 

Meanwhile, your brother’s violet eye merely follows a few of the stones as they skid across the stone floors. “Pity,” he tuts, stalking around you like a lion would its prey before stopping behind you and meeting your gaze in the mirror. 

“Do you have any idea who that necklace bel–”

“I don’t give a shit about who it belonged to,” he hisses, reaching over your shoulder and grabbing your jaw, forcing your head to turn back enough to meet his heated stare, “All that matters is that you belong to me, not some sniveling fucking bastard who shall only bring you ruin.”

He stares at you for a second more as if trying to drive the point somehow further into your heart before finally releasing your chin, smirking at the little shiver that runs down your spine when he skims his fingers over your neck. 

Your eyes flutter shut as he delicately sweeps the hair away from the back of your neck before pressing a soft kiss there, only to trail more down the crook of your neck and shoulder; time seems to slow for a moment while you savor the feel of his lips against your skin and your chest tightens when he groans. 

He huffs when he straightens back up, like being apart from you, even if only by a few scant inches, is painful – a feeling you know all too well. Opening your eyes, you watch as he carefully clasps the sapphire necklace around your neck. The larger middle stone sits perfectly at the base of your neck, the rich blue hue sparkles beautifully against your skin. 

“Flawless,” he says lowly, gently kissing just below your ear before trailing his eye up to the floor-length mirror the two of you stand before, hands resting on your waist, “We look perfect together, don’t we, little one?”

Automatically, you nod your head, unable to separate your gaze from the mirror. He’s right, he always is. The two of you simply fit together – perfect compliments of the other. 

He smiles lazily over your shoulder and pulls you closer against him, relishing in the small gasp that leaves your lips as his length presses against you, already half-hard and wanting. “Yes, you and I were meant to be together,” he breathes, slowly pulling up the skirts of your gown, “You may be marrying that traitorous little cunt, but you’ll belong to me soon enough, sweet sister.”

Your brows furrow at that and you start to question him, ask what exactly he means, but before you can utter a word, a feeble, stuttering moan is wrenched from your lips instead. Aemond holds you steady, keeping one hand firmly around your waist, as the other fits itself between your thighs; you’re helpless to do much else than watch yourself fall apart in the mirror as his lithe fingers slip through your already drenched center.

A pleased hum reverberates against the side of your jaw as he presses soft kisses against your neck, ravenous eye glued to your chest as it rises and falls with sharp pants, your breasts heaving beneath the bodice of your wedding dress.

“Promise me you won’t let him touch you,” your brother growls, swirling his fingers around your already aching pearl with practiced ease, “Swear to me that I am the only one who will ever claim you, sweet girl.”

“A-Aemond, I…,” you gasp, already having to fight through the fog in your mind to remain upright, much less speak, “Brother, please!”

“Swear it!” He snarls, biting harshly at your shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark. 

“I promise, I promise!” You quickly concede, the truth willingly spilling from you. You did not want anyone else, you never had – your gaze had been firmly set on Aemond for as long as you could remember. Your heart had soared with hope when Aegon and Helaena’s betrothal was announced, only for those hopes to be squashed when you were all but promised to Jace not too long after Aemond’s eye had been taken – doomed to a marriage built on regrets. 

Your older brother had felt the same from an earlier age still, always doting on you, even as a child. He loves Helaena, yes, but his heart had only been yours. His screams still echo in your mind – the only time he’d ever raised his voice at your mother, when he’d stormed into her chambers as soon as Aegon had taunted him with news of the raven from Driftmark. 

But it was the same each time, excuses of repairing relations and making amends, commands for you and Aemond both to grow up – to make sacrifices for the realm. 

Was I ever more than a lamb raised for slaughter? That question has kept you up for more hours than you care to admit. Now, watching in the mirror as a man who is not your betrothed brings you to heel on the morning of a day you have mourned for years, the dam inside you finally bursts – you are tired of bowing to duty. 

“Aemond, please!” You gasp, nearly crying as the fog in your mind finally lifts, “Please, take me, please!”

He pauses at that, the fingers on your aching bud stopping as his eye flicks up to yours. His eye is studying, calculating while he looks over you — there is a terrible relief in being finally, truly seen. “Is that what you wish?” He hums, chuckling when you pant as his fingers circle your dripping entrance, “To be filled with me, little one?”

You’re nodding before he’s even finished the question, desperate whines spilling from you as he slips his hand from between your legs, only long enough to loosen the ties at the front of his trousers.

“I’ll breed this sweet cunt,” he grunts, the arm around your waist moving to hook securely around your chest while the other grabs at his length, positioning it at your entrance as you hold your skirts out of the way in a trembling grasp, “Give you a pure Valyrian babe, just as you deserve.”

All of the air is knocked from your lungs as he pushes into you, spearing you on his cock in one swift motion. Your fingers abandon your skirts to instead claw helplessly at the arm draped over your chest, knees nearly buckling as Aemond pauses long enough for you to adjust. 

“Gods!” You whimper as he sets a punishing pace from the outset, though the harsh thrusts feel like paradise after being deprived of his mere presence for so long. Your head droops forward as he snakes a hand around your hip to begin rubbing at your pearl yet again, lucid enough to know that the two of you are operating on borrowed time. 

“You have always been mine, all of you,” he gasps, watching as your bodies writhe together in the mirror. After a moment, he growls and grabs at your neck, forcing your head up until your eyes meet his. “That’s it, sweet girl,” he praises, leaning forward to kiss and nip at your neck and shoulder, “You’re mine, you’re mine…”

You nod as best you can as he chants the words again and again like a prayer, pushing his length in and out of you in time with each one, until your mind is nothing but a cacophony of mine, mine, mine. 

“I-I’m, Gods, I’m – Aemond!” You all but sob, the knot in your stomach that had been pitifully winding itself for weeks finally about to unravel as your cunt tightens around him, his grunts and growls in response only pushing you further to the end. 

“Do it,” he commands, redoubling his efforts on your bud, his other hand scrambling frantically to grasp at your stomach, “Let go and I’ll breed you, I’ll give you a babe, our babe, little one. Let go for me, let go.”

His muttered command sends shivers down your spine and you’re powerless to do much else other than obey and your eyes squeeze shut and your lips part as a harsh, shuddering cry is knocked out of you; fire seems to ignite every cell within you as you pulse around his length. Your knees buckle when your high washes over you, Aemond’s grip around your waist the only thing keeping you upright. 

“Good girl, good girl,” he murmurs, the sound of his voice just barely cutting through the rush of blood in your ears. A handful of thrusts later and he stills against you, growling and squeezing you to within an inch of your life as he fills you, cock twitching. 

You both still for a moment, harsh pants filling your chambers as you catch your breath. You whine when Aemond finally pulls his softening length from you, though he shushes you sweetly before leading you to your vanity chair and sitting you down. 

“I don’t want to marry him,” you whisper suddenly, sniffling softly as tears sting the back of your eyes, “I don’t w-want to, Aemond, I –”

“Shh, shh,” he says softly, gently cupping your cheek and angling your face up toward his, “There’s nothing we can do to change today, as much as it pains me. Were it possible, I would gut him in the Sept and stake my claim to you then and there, Gods be damned, I –” 

He pauses, cutting himself off with a harsh sigh, “I will have you, I swear it. I will not fail again.” 

Were it any other time, the dark shadow that lingers behind his words would give you pause, would frighten you as they have before. 

Now, though, they settle over you like a warm blanket – there is a safety in this fear. Aemond, for all his faults, is nothing if not determined. 

Whatever surety had settled within you only an hour before is swiftly and sharply pushed from your mind as you exit the carriage and climb the many steps up to the doors of the Great Sept of Baelor, unsteady even with Aegon at your side. 

By the grace of the Gods, Aemond had managed to slip from your chambers, and supposedly from the Red Keep, unseen by all except your lady’s maids, and they had all been sworn to secrecy long ago. Once he had gone, they filed back in and had blessedly made no mention of the intrusion as they bustled about you yet again – quickly braiding your hair through the prongs of your tiara and securing your cloak to your shoulders. 

They knew better than to ask about the sapphire clasped around your neck, or about the mess of rubies on the floor.

Your eldest brother, however, had not been so forgiving; his dark eyes had narrowed the moment you were seated together in the carriage. “Today, sister? Really?” He had teased, a dangerous spark in his eyes.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you had grumbled, clenching your legs together as you sat. 

“Hm,” he hummed, chuckling softly, “Maybe I’ll soon be mother’s favorite after all.”

“We stand here in the sight of Gods and men to witness the union of man and wife,” the septon’s booming voice fills the Sept as you stand together with Jacaerys, your hands in his, “One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.”

You try your hardest to keep your eyes trained to his, to keep your lips crooked into a smile, but all you can focus on is the two stares practically searing your flesh. 

Alicent’s face swam in your vision, the way her cheeks had paled when she had caught sight of the jewelry clasped around your neck, at the guilty look in your eyes. You can feel hers boring into you now and you have no doubt her jaw is clenched, her fingers bloodied and raw. 

The other stare makes your skin prickle, much as it did on the night of your betrothal feast. You keep inwardly scolding yourself, again and again, as your eyes lock with Aemond’s every few seconds as he stands at the base of the steps to your side. 

“In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity,” the septon continues, gesturing to you and Jace, “Look upon one another and say the words.”

“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger,” you recite together, all the while you desperately try to ignore the hollow, aching pit slowly opening itself in the very center of your chest.

“I am hers and she is mine,” Jace murmurs, dark gaze fixed solely on yours as he squeezes your hands, a terrible longing in his stare, “From this day, until the end of my days.”

“I am his and he is mine,” you say, each word feeling like a knife being twisted in your gut, “From this day until the end of my days.”

The septon gestures once more for the two of you to step closer together; it takes all of your restraint not to gasp when you feel a rivulet of Aemond’s spend leak down your thigh as you do. 

“With this kiss, I pledge my love,” Jace says softly. His warm hands cup your cheeks before he leans in but when your lips touch, all you see is sapphire.

thank you for taking the time to read! hope you enjoyed! :)

consider adding yourself to my tag list or check out my works on ao3!

[dovveri]

I know this request is soo Y/n-ish but if ever you can read this, please make a fic including Momo and Sana where they are fighting over y/n which is me but I prefer Momo more huehuehueheu thank yah love lotss!!

if i die young

synopsis: you're saved by someone at work that you haven't met before and you quickly become close. your roommate isn't too fond of this though.

warnings: mostly fluff but gets vvv angsty towards the end, mentions of death, implied sex, cursing, cheating but not really if you think about it, heavy grief themes, trying so hard to not giveaway the story in the warnings

w/c: 8.4k

a/n: GIGGLE im pretty sure this is not what anon had in mind but i struggled soooo much w this prompt bcs I CANT DO THAT TO MY BABY SANA but i got this wonderful idea while in the shower to punish anon for sending me this prompt that i agonised over for a literal month that does technically fulfil the requirements 😋 enjoy the read mwahaha (and sorry for any plot holes that may come up- come yell at me in asks i have sm love for this fic and id love to yap abt it if anyone notices anything silly)

♰˚☽˚｡⋆

"y/n right?"

you look up, smiling at the woman who's hovering over your desk at work, nodding in acknowledgement.

"i think the boss was asking for you."

you widen your eyes in embarrassment, scrambling up and grabbing the relevant files, "oh shit i'm so sorry i totally forgot! i'll be there in just a second!"

the woman giggles, "it's okay. i told her my dogs ate all of your work."

you pause, looking at her in horror, "i-i- you what?"

"trust me. she's met my dogs. she'll believe it. your meeting with her has been postponed to next week. i'm momo by the way." she smiles, holding out a hand expectantly.

you're still a little in shock, but you take it, noting the way her hands are soft against yours, she must moisturise. "o-oh. t-thanks i guess..."

momo grins, "see you around y/n."

and then she's off, aloof to her surroundings, you think it's kind of adorable.

you sit back at your desk, still a little flabbergasted at your interaction with the strange girl from work.

♰˚☽˚｡⋆

"sana! i'm home!" you kick off your shoes, placing them in their allocated slot on your shoe rack.

"kitchen!"

you frown, immediately worried when you hear that word. sana's notorious for her clumsy nature. when you first moved in together, it was essentially an unspoken rule that she was not allowed in the kitchen without supervision.

you quickly take off your coat, rushing into the kitchen.

nothing seemed to be off when you walked in, nothing burning, no alarms ringing, no funky smells that attacked your olfactory senses, you can only hope for the best.

"y/n!" sana's bright smile gives you immediate relief. you narrow your eyes, carefully stepping around the kitchen, looking for any signs of anything wrong.

"what are you doing?"

"making sure that everything is supposed to be where it's supposed to be and nothing is broken."

"why would anything be broken?"

once you're finished with your inspection, you turn to sana, zeroing in on her and grabbing her face with your hands, squeezing her cheeks together.

it's kind of adorable when she frowns, pouting and starting to protest, but you shush her, patting her down and inspecting her face to make sure she hasn't done anything to herself or hurt herself in any way.

"okay it seems like we're safe." you let her go but she immediately latches onto you, bringing you into a hug with an airy giggle.

"i'll forgive you for thinking i burnt down our kitchen."

you roll your eyes but return her hug, only breaking away when the doorbell rings.

"i'll get it. go clean up." sana smiles sweetly, patting your butt as she moves around you towards the door.

you roll your eyes, heading into your shared bedroom, taking off your work clothes and changing into a more comfortable set of sweats and an oversized t-shirt.

when you walk back out, you see sana's set up the dining table with takeaway.

"what's this?" you smile teasingly when you sit down.

"i wanted to cook but then i thought about the last time i wanted to cook and i decided to get takeaway for us instead." she grins, "see i'm responsible! can't believe you thought i'd try anything again after last time."

"i scraped some cheese off the ceiling the other day."

"aaaand now there's no more cheese on the ceiling! problem solved!"

you both laugh, and you help her set the table, opening the takeaway boxes and beaming at the smell of tteokbokki.

once you're both settled in across from each other, content with filling your mouths with fluffy rice cakes and spicy sauce, you talk through your days.

"there was this person i've never met before at work today."

"oh?"

"yeah she was a little strange, but she was really sweet. i had forgotten that i had a meeting with the boss today and she made up some excuse about how her dogs had messed with my work and apparently the boss believed it so now i don't have to get my deadline stuff done until next week."

"that's cute. did you get her name?"

"momo i think. sounds japanese, think you know her?"

"what because all japanese people in seoul know each other?"

"i didn't mean it like thattttt!"

sana giggles, "i know i know i'm just teasing. but no i don't know her. thinking about replacing me already y/n?"

you roll your eyes, picking out a fishcake with your chopsticks and popping it in your mouth, "just waiting for the lease to end so i can finally get rid of you actually."

sana feigns offense, "good luck finding someone else who wants to sleep next to your blanket stealing ass then."

"oh you didn't know? now that i'm working a real job i can actually afford to not have to share bedrooms anymore."

"why haven't you done it yet then?"

you blush, stabbing another rice cake.

sana laughs, bright and loud, "you looooooove sleeping with me admit it."

"absolutely not."

"you doooooo you do."

"eat your food sana."

sana's laughing and you can't help but smile. her laugh was always infectious, it was the surefire way to make your day better when you were feeling a little down in the dumps, she was the epitome happiness.

♰˚☽˚｡⋆

it's a few days later when you bump into momo again.

normally you make your own food to bring for lunch but today, sana had woken up sick so you had spent the morning making sure she was okay and calling in sick for her at work.

so now you were stood in line at the cafeteria, wondering just what was taking the line so long to move, your break would probably be over by the time you got to the front of the line at the pace it was going.

"i'm sorry ma'am for the last time you can't pay for your food with vouchers to baskin & robbins! if you don't move along i'll have to call security so please-"

"no you don't understand! i was told that i could use these anywhere when i won them!"

you try peeking over the shoulders of annoyed corporate soldiers and you're surprised when you catch a familiar head of raven black hair at the front of the line.

you quickly push forward, excusing yourself as people look at you in irritation.

"momo!" you call out, shoving aside a 6 foot man with blue eyes that probably worked in the finance sector.

momo turns to you, looking a little frazzled with various coupons in her hands.

"hey! what's up?" you're a little breathless from pushing in line.

she pouts, turning back to the cashier who looks like he's about to start balding from stress. "apparently i can't use these vouchers that i won at drag bingo last week."

you grab the coupons and inspect the terms and conditions. "momo these are only allowed to be used at baskin & robbins."

"but they said i could use them anywhere!"

"at any branch sweetie. not literally anywhere."

"oh... i didn't bring my wallet." she frowns, pocketing her coupons again.

"it's okay i got it." you quickly pay the cashier who looks relieved to finally get the line moving again. you pick up her tray and gesture for her to follow you to an empty table.

"you didn't have to do that y/n!"

you shrug, sitting down and sliding her tray over to her. "it's no biggie. you kinda rescued me earlier in the week anyway. i hadn't actually finished all the work i needed to get done before showing the boss. i woulda come up with some shit excuse for not finishing it so you saved my ass."

"oh don't worry about that. mina and i have been good friends since our days in dance school together, she may be a scary boss but she's a real nerd outside of the workplace."

"oh? i didn't know boss myoi could dance!"

momo happily opens her sandwich, taking a bite and speaking with her mouth full, "you can actually find her on youtube. she was a pretty famous ballerina back in the day. woulda made it big if her parents didn't drag her back to run this company."

"and you?"

"what about me?"

"you dance?"

momo laughs, "yeah. i spend most of my spare time in the studio. unfortunately it doesn't really pay well. i was going to be evicted until mina was sweet enough to offer me a job here so i can afford my rent and continue doing what i love so i owe her a lot. oh speaking of- you weren't able to get any food! here-" she slides over her salad and soup.

"oh no no it's okay-"

"please just take it. it's not much anyway, i'll still have to come up with something to pay you back."

"you know what? those baskin & robbins vouchers. do you have anyone to go with?"

momo looks up at you from her sandwich in surprise, "no i don't."

"you free after work today?"

"i was just going to head into the studio but i could free that up."

"great. i'll see you in the lobby at 5 then. we can head to that store in gangnam, the one where you can taste test like all the flavours."

"really?!" momo's eyes brigten, "i've always wanted to do that but no-one's ever wanted to go with me."

"well perfect! sounds like a plan then!"

you grin at her excitement. you were always a little more than awkward, sana was the one who found it easy to go up to anyone on the street and befriend them. it was a little harder for you to make friends, you were lucky when sana found you interesting enough in your first year of college to strike up a conversation, and then find you interesting enough to keep coming back until you were inseparable and moved in together to save money on rent. you haven't really needed anyone else aside from sana since then, but momo was different, you felt an instant connection with her that you haven't felt since sana. she intrigued you, and you wanted to get to know her better.

♰˚☽˚｡⋆

you're laughing at momo's face when she cringes in disgust.

"eugh what is that? that was disgusting!"

"i think it was like pikachu something something." you manage out between laughs.

"eugh pikachu guts and blood for sure. i never thought pikachu would taste like banana and vomit."

"i can't believe you just ate pikachu! he's such a little cutie surely he can't taste bad!"

"oh yeah? you try it-" she's spooning a bit of the vile yellow coloured ice cream and shoving it into your mouth while you're still vulnerable from laughing.

the first hit of banana on your tastebuds has you coughing immediately. and now it's momo's turn to laugh at you, it's a bright, almost wheeze-like sound, you think it's cute.

"okay yeah- we need to ban the killing of pikachu- this shit should not be served-"

"i'm glad you're on the save pikachu agenda as well then. but there's no way we are finishing that one."

"we don't have to. these were technically free anyway because of your amazing bingo skills after all."

she giggles, "okay but i'm still going to see if we can get replacement flavours. i wanted to try that gone with the wind flavour as well anyway."

you wish her luck as she slides out of the booth, bringing your tray of tester ice-creams with her towards the counter and waving down an employee.

you turn on your phone, scrolling to your messages to find sana's sent you a few unread texts.

bestest friend in the world🐿️💜: u coming home tn?

bestest friend in the world🐿️💜: don't ignore me y/nnnnn

bestest friend in the world🐿️💜: am i eating dinner on my own? 😞

bestest friend in the world🐿️💜: u better be safe idiot if ur not home by 10 i'm calling the police and filing a missing persons report

you laugh a little at her messages.

y/n: don't call the police! i'm fine! i'm just out with that coworker i told u about a few days ago. the one who saved my ass w my boss. i'll be home afterwards don't wait up!

momo's coming back before you can see sana's reply. you slide your phone back into your pocket, grinning at her, "what abomination have you brought back for us to try this time?"

momo places the new tray down, "i kinda forgot most of the names but at least the colour palette this time looks a little more edible."

"really? this neon green looks edible to you?"

"hey! a lotta green flavoured foods are edible! most vegetables, apples, green tea, mint... besides there's no way anything here will be worse than pikachu guts and blood."

you scrunch your nose a little when she slides in next to you, "i wouldn't want to try a vegetable flavoured ice cream anyway."

"you're just a hater." she's grinning when she spoons out a bright pink ice cream and pops it in her mouth.

you scoff, "am not!"

"suuuuuure. i actually know this place that does this incredible carrot ice cream. you can prove you're not a hater if you come and try it with me next week. there's a new branch opening on friday."

"alright. it's so on."

you spend the rest of the night laughing and poking fun at each other. you got along really well with momo, it felt so easy to connect with her. your levels of awkwardness rubbed off on each other perfectly. you enjoyed hanging out with her, and you're glad work seemed a lot less lonelier now.

♰˚☽˚｡⋆

it ends up being really late by the time you get home. momo and you had decided to go for a round of karaoke after ice-cream and the mix of soju and trying to scream to reach the high note in twice's i can't stop me meant you had lost track of time. it was okay though because it was the weekend tomorrow so neither of you had work.

you slip off your shoes in the dark, careful not to make too much sound that could wake sana.

you're tiptoeing into the living room when the lamp light suddenly turns on, and sana's sitting on the couch with her arms crossed.

"you're alive."

you giggle a little at sana looking alike to an evil villain waiting for you to come home. she was much too happy-go-lucky to pull it off.

"what's funny?"

"noooothing."

she frowns, "are you drunk?"

"maaaayyybee."

sana stands up, walking past you and into the kitchen, you follow her like a lost puppy.

"drink this." she pushes a glass of water into your hand, watching you expectantly until you get the message and bring the cup to your lips.

"all of it."

you groan, gulping down the water, and cringing at the fullness you feel in your stomach from all the liquids sloshing around.

sana sighs, rubbing her forehead. "i was worried when you didn't return my texts y'know."

you frown now, realising sana was actually a little annoyed. "i'm sorry. i should've texted you i'd be home late."

she softens, always so forgiving, "it's okay. did you have fun?"

you grin dumbly, nodding, "momo's soooo funny."

"momo?"

"the coworker i was telling you about! she tried to-" you hiccup, "she tried to pay in the cafeteria today with baskin & robbin vouchers and held up pretty much the entire building. i paid instead and we went out and used the vouchers after work, theeeeeen we did karaoke!" you giggle, remembering the day you've had.

"oh..." she's frowning and you can't understand why so you poke her forehead, trying to undo the frown on her face.

"why are you sad?"

"i'm not."

"you're something."

sana rolls her eyes, grabbing your hands to stop playing with her face and leading you towards the bathroom. you're easily distracted, humming a silly tune that's come to mind while she sits you down on the toilet and starts wiping your makeup for the day off. it's a little more complicated when she tries to take your contacts out because you can't stop giggling and blinking but she manages in the end, making you rinse some mouthwash instead of brushing your teeth because she could tell you were falling into the sleepy stage of being drunk.

she's pulling you up and leading you towards your shared bedroom now, putting you to bed and then sliding in next to you, reaching to cover the blanket over the both of you.

you yawn, turning to face her and knock your foreheads together gently, but when you feel the wrinkles still there you open your eyes. "why are you still frowning?"

you can feel her immediately try and relax, "'m not."

"you were."

"ugh just go to sleep y/n. it's late and i'm tired." she's turning around and shuffling away from you which is weird because she was always the one who cuddled and latched onto you before bed.

you miss her warmth immediately, inching towards her and draping an arm over her midriff, entangling your legs and pushing your nose into her hair. "'m sorry."

she sighs against you, grabbing your hands and playing around with your fingers. "it's okay. just don't forget about me yeah?"

"how could i forget about you?"

"goodnight y/n."

you want to ask her more, but you can feel your eyes growing heavier, letting them drift shut, dreaming of ice-cream and cuddles.

♰˚☽˚｡⋆

it became a regular thing.

momo and you would hang out after work every friday, she was quickly becoming one of your closest friends.

one night, when you're spread out on a picnic blanket on a hill a little bit away from the city, counting the stars, she asks you, "are you seeing anyone y/n?"

you look at her surprised, "no. why?"

"why aren't you seeing anyone? surely it's not because no one's asked you out before. you're gorgeous and fun to be around. is it because no one's been good enough?"

you blush a little at the compliments, turning to lay back down and stare at the sky, "i think i just haven't been ready for a long time."

"ready?"

"for a relationship. i told you about my best friend sana right?"

momo hums, coming up on her elbow to peer down at you while you try and make out the various constellations in the night.

"once i found her, it kinda felt like everything was okay, like i never really needed anything more. i know a lot of people centre their lives around romantic love and finding their soulmate and whatever, but i've never been like that. with sana, everything was enough. i felt like if i wished for anything more it might disrupt that."

"is sana seeing anyone?"

you chuckle a little, thinking to sana's past romantic escapades, "she's tried but nothing's really worked out. i think we feel the same in that way. that as long as we have each other we don't really need anyone else."

there's a contemplative silence for a bit while momo studies your face. you let her, comfortable enough with her that it doesn't feel awkward even when it is silent. you connect the stars in your head, smiling when you realise you've made out the capricornus constellation.

"what about me?"

the words are spoken softly into the night, you almost don't catch it, but fate would have it blown softly your way, tickling your ears with the question. "what do you mean?"

"you say you and sana don't need anyone else. how do you feel about me?"

you sit up a little then, leaning back on your elbows as you avert your gaze from the arrowhead-like collection of stars to eyes that shine just as bright. "you're different. you're the first person to come into my life since sana that i've felt... like we were meant to meet y'know? all that soulmate stuff and whatever may be cringey but it's nice to believe in. sometimes i think there are just people that i'm meant to meet, and people that i'm not. and fate brought me you."

momo's leaning forward, her eyes drifting down to your lips, her next few words come out in a whisper, "so if i did this..." her eyes flicker back up to yours, letting you pull away if you wanted to, but you find yourself fixed on her lips as well. so when she closes the distance between the two of you, pressing her lips against yours, just barely there, you sigh into her. the smallest brush of your lips together has you feeling light-headed and hazy, she breaks away from you all too quickly, eyes filled with wonder. you can see the reflection of the night sky in her eyes.

you smile softly at her, lips still tingly from the brief kiss.

"if i did that... would that feel like i've disturbed the equilibrium you've found with sana?"

you shake your head gently, "no. it feels just right actually."

when you lean in again, it does feel just right, like the stars have aligned for this one moment. like everything that's happened to you in life has lead you to this.

♰˚☽˚｡⋆

someone else didn't feel that way.

she's sitting on the couch, up late again. it was becoming more and more often that she would find herself waiting up for y/n to come home.

she hears the telltale sign of the door unlocking and you stumbling in blindly, trying to adjust to the darkness of your apartment and slipping your shoes off to place carefully on the shoe rack next to sana's.

you're kind of expecting sana to be standing there waiting for you when you come back.

"hey sana. i'm home."

"late."

"yeah i was out with-"

"momo."

"yeah..." you rub your neck shyly, heading towards the kitchen to get a glass of water. she follows you wordlessly.

"is something going on between you and momo y/n?"

you raise an eyebrow, swallowing the water in your mouth before answering, "would it be a problem if there was?"

sana frowns, "no but... i just thought you'd tell me is all."

"i do tell you everything sana. every time i come home late i tell you what we've done. it feels like you don't really want to hear it most of the time though."

she pouts, "i do! i do want to know what's going on. i'm sorry i just... i told you i just don't want you to forget about me."

"and i won't sana. i could never forget you, i don't know why you worry about that." you step up to her, cupping a cheek and tilting it up so she's looking at you.

her eyes are slightly shiny and you suddenly feel terrible for making her wait up for you all these nights, "i just- ever since you started hanging out with her, i feel like you've had less time to spend with me. and i know! i knew eventually you'd find someone to spend the rest of your life with i just- i just didn't know it'd be like this and i wasn't prepared and i don't want to lose you yet-"

"woah! woah woah woah slow down! sweetie what? how long- how come you've never told me this before? i've always felt that- and i told momo this- but i've always felt that i never needed anyone else but you! i always thought that we were the ones that were going to spend the rest of our lives together, you're the only one i want to spend the rest of my life with. you'll never lose me sana i promise and momo- look just because i don't need anyone else in my life aside from you, doesn't mean it's that terrible if there is someone else that makes me happy right?"

"but- don't i make you happy?"

"oh baby you do, you do, you make me so happy." you brush a thumb across her cheek, "look how about i set up a meeting for you and momo to meet. it's about time anyway and i really think you'd get along really well if you got to know her."

she sniffles a little, thinking it over, before finally nodding albeit with slightl hesitance.

you grin, pulling her into a hug and she laughs against you, "you better be paying though."

you laugh as well, overjoyed your best friend was going to meet your... anyway, it didn't matter. sana was just happy to hold you and be close to you, letting her anxieties around you fade into the back of her mind.

♰˚☽˚｡⋆

"i'm so sorry momo she promised she'd be here." you sigh in frustration, picking up your phone again to check if sana's replied to any of your messages or calls.

momo smiles kindly, "it's okay. she's probably just caught up in something. don't worry about it!"

"eugh yeah it's just really annoying because we already rescheduled this twice and now she's just not even showing up. wait... do you think something's happened to her? she's not normally bad with replies- oh god what if something's happened-"

"y/n! it's okay! she's probably just somewhere with bad reception right now. i'm sure she'll get back to you soon. should we order first? get your mind off things?"

you sigh, flipping your phone over, not wanting it to distract from the date you were now on with momo. she smiles gently, taking your hand and squeezing.

"yeah that sounds good. have you had a look at the menu yet?" you glance over at the waiter who had seated you, whispering to his coworkers with a sour look on his face, probably from the fact that the two of you have been sat here for almost 40 minutes and only picked at the starter breads and water.

the rest of dinner goes by smoothly. momo is able to distract you from your thoughts about sana and you're thankful for that. being with her was easy, fun. you don't think any of your previous relationships held a candle to momo, and you've only known each other for maybe a month or so.

dessert comes and she's telling you a funny story about how her dog boo had pooped on a guest dancer at her studio and he had to clean it up, only finding out afterwards that his name was also boo. she had apologised profusely and was very embarassed but he was nice about it and had jokingly offered to babysit her dogs anytime.

"speaking of my dogs, i was thinking... do you maybe want to... come over after dinner and meet them?" she's blushing, twirling her fork around and stabbing small pieces of the cheesecake in front of her, eyes avoiding yours.

you beam, "of course! i'd love to!"

"really?" she looks up at you in surprise.

"yeah! i gotta put a face to these little demon dogs you're always talking about."

she whines, "they're not that bad i swear!"

"you know i heard that pets actually take on characteristics of their owners..."

"... what's that supposed to mean?"

"nothing." you tease, pretending to go back to your food.

she kicks you under the table playfully, pouting. you laugh at her, finding her adorable, spooning some of your gelato up and offering it to her. her expression changes immediately when she opens her mouth, accepting the bite with a hum of satisfaction and a grin in thanks.

after dinner, you decide to walk back to momo's since she didn't live too far from the restaurant you had eaten at.

the night air is cool and refreshing, and you don't hesitate to slip your hand into momo's as you stroll along the streets. it's not too busy in this area so you can enjoy the little sounds of the creatures of the night scuttling around in the trees and on the ground. you glance over at momo who has a soft smile on her face, swinging your hands gently with each step, her face adorn with the subtle glimmer of the moon.

she catches you staring, and turns to you with a grin, "something on my face?"

you smile in return, "maaaybe something just-" you step forward, leaning in and hear her breath hitch just slightly when your eyes drop to her lips, you kiss her sweetly, 2 seconds maybe, and then you're breaking away, "there."

she's blushing, and you have a stupid grin on your face like the lovesick fool you are.

"romantic." she rolls her eyes at you, continuing your walk.

"i'll get you flowers next time."

"i'm allergic."

"chocolate then."

"i was joking i'm not allergic but now that you offered, i'll be expecting both."

"what?!"

she laughs, cackles really, her nose scrunches in the most adorable way, hand tightening around yours.

by the time you walk through the door of her apartment, you're a little tired but in the best way possible. the kind of tired where you know you're tired because you've just had the most fantastic day.

the dogs greet you at the door with excitement, panting, tongues out, jumping at momo's legs as soon as she enters. she laughs and bends down, petting them and cooing.

"so this one is dobby, he's a little shyer but he's a sweetheart once he warms up to you. and this little rascal is boo." she points out the two dogs and you bend down, reaching out a hand and letting them sniff you while momo stands up and takes off her jacket, placing it on the coat hanger.

"hiiii nice to meet you boys, i'm y/n, momo's..." you look up at momo, a little hesitant.

she raises an eyebrow at you, crouching down so she's eye level with you again, the dogs between the two of you, thrilled at the attention they're receiving. "girlfriend?"

you beam, giggling and leaning in to kiss her, "girlfriend."

she grins as well, standing up again and heading towards her kitchen, dobby follows her but boo continues to lick at your hand.

"want anything to drink girlfriend?" you can hear her teasing lilt from where you are.

"i'll have whatever you're having girlfriend."

“soy sauce okay then babe?”

your heart stutters at the term of endearment, completely disregarding her drink of choice. “i-i u-um y-yeah!”

you stand up and follow the sound of her laughter into the kitchen, boo pattering along behind you.

"i'm not sure if i want to kiss you if you're the type of person who drinks soy sauce y/n."

"what?! i don't do that!"

"not what i just heard."

you gape at her, but she giggles, coming up to you and planting a kiss on your lips. you can vaguely feel the wag of the dogs' tails at your feet, wondering what exactly their mom's doing letting someone else lick into her mouth.

she breaks away with a sly smirk, "still kissed you."

"uh huh-" you quickly reattach your lips, addicted to the taste of her, the way her lips move against yours, how she smells so close to you, the way her hands grip your shirt tightly, pulling you into her when you push her against the kitchen counter, trapping her against it.

it suddenly gets a lot more serious when she nips your bottom lip softly, and you let out an uncontrollable, but very real moan, and you have to break away painfully.

"my room?" momo breathes against you, your foreheads placed against each other's, sharing the same airspace.

you bite your lip, exactly where she had sunk her teeth into only seconds prior, watching the way she stalks your action like a hawk, "mhm."

and she surprises you when she picks you up easily by the thighs, and you yelp, wrapping your legs around hers and feeling her grin into the next kiss she lands on your lips, navigating her living room and into the bedroom, closing the door behind the both of you so her dogs wouldn't be privy to the sights of you coming apart under your new girlfriend's tongue.

♰˚☽˚｡⋆

the next morning, momo kisses you awake with the smell of breakfast wafting into the bedroom. you blush at the sight of her only in an oversized tee, the marks on her thighs reminiscent of your activities the night prior. she doesn't fail to tease you at the red pigment blossoming on your cheeks, pointing out your own marks on your neck and chest.

you spend the morning cuddling on the couch, watching reruns of glee and feeding each other the waffles momo's made for breakfast, stealing kisses in between each bite, the dogs playing around on their own, sometimes hopping into your lap to nose at you or momo, asking for pets and pats.

you smile dreamily as you unlock your door, remembering your time with her, how she promised she'd buy a new toothbrush for you if you promised to come over again, which you did of course, that was obviously a given but you adored her asking.

you step inside finding it quiet. when you place your shoes next to sana's spot on the shoe rack, you realise she's still home when you thought she was meant to be working.

"sana?"

there's no response, so you drop off your things, entering your living room and finding she's nowhere to be found. you frown, heading towards the kitchen, then the bathroom, and finally your room with the door ajar. you peek inside and find a lump under the sheets, her blackout curtains still tightly shut.

you tiptoe inside, hovering over the bed and peeling back the duvet a little to see if she's still asleep.

you don't expect her to yelp, pulling the duvet back and burrowing deeper into the little nest she's made. you hear the telltale signs of her scrambling to cover up the fact that she was crying.

"w-what are you doing here?" her voice is croaky, shaky, you sit tenderly on the side of the bed.

"this is my home."

there's a sniffle, and then "people come home and sleep in their own beds. you didn't."

you sigh, trying not to get frustrated, "sana... you didn't turn up yesterday. and you never called me back or returned any of my texts."

"my grandma was sick."

"is she okay now?"

"y-yeah."

"was she really sick?"

"...no."

you hum, placing a hand gingerly on what you deduct to be her arm.

"i'm not mad."

"you shouldn't be."

you raise an eyebrow, "you stood us up."

"i had my reasons."

"and what were they?"

she sighs under the covers, then suddenly she's whipping them down and leaning into your space, planting her lips on yours.

you're stunned for a second, 2 seconds, and then she's pulling away, and burrowing back under the covers. you barely caught a glimpse of red cheeks and red eyes, your lips tingling from the press of her lips.

it's too late to pull her back out when you come to your senses, touching your fingers to your lips still in mild shock.

"i-i- s-sana i-"

she sighs exasperatedly, "is that reason enough?"

"w-why didn't you tell me?"

"because you were all over this new girl! you barely had time for me anymore!"

"what- that's not- how long have you felt this way sana?"

she groans, shuffling a little, "i don't know. i just know i didn't like it when you started seeing momo."

"so all that about not forgetting you..."

"well yeah... i think i've always liked you. i was just never threatened by someone else taking you away, even with all your past partners you've never- you've always come back to me."

you sigh frustratedly, running a hand through your hair trying to think what exactly this meant for you. "i'm with momo."

she scoffs, "i know."

"we slept together last night."

"... like in the same bed? yeah we sleep together too."

"no like- like slept together slept together."

there's silence for a bit, you can hear the breaths of the both of you, the wheels in her head turning.

"... you've slept with other people before right? what difference does this make?"

"i think i really like her sana."

she sits up then, hair a mess, skin blotchy, eye bags present, but her eyes are fierce. you're hit with a sudden wave of nostalgia. you really hadn't seen sana in so long. seen her smile, heard her laugh, ever since you started going out with momo she started acting weird and you knew why now, but she was right when she said you had pushed her away because of it, preferring to bask in the new romance momo offered you, avoiding dealing with the complicated feelings that arose when you thought about sana. you missed her.

"if this is you rejecting me just come out with it. stop beating around the bush and say it. say you don't love me like i love you."

"... you... you love me?"

she rolls her eyes impatiently, a crease forming between her eyebrows that you want to reach out and smooth out of habit, "yes."

"i-" you can feel tears welling up, you don't want to choose between your best friend and your new lover. you don't want to lose sana because of this.

sana notices because she notices everything about you, and her eyes soften, wanting to touch and comfort but resigning to fiddling with her fingers instead.

"just go." she says softly after you're unable to form words for the next minute.

"no but i-"

"i'm tired y/n. just go." she's turning around onto her side, preparing to lie down and curl up again, but in the spur of the moment, you grab her wrist, pulling her into you and kissing her again.

she lets out a sound of surprise, eyes widening, but lets you kiss her.

you're not even sure what you're doing, all you can think is you can't lose sana. not like this. not when the entire future you've planned out in your head includes her. not when she tastes like the saline of the tears streaming out of both of your eyes, that and a hint of something that was uniquely sana. not when you both still had so much life left to live together.

all of this remains in your mind when you follow her tear tracks, kissing her neck, her shoulders, down her chest. you can feel her still crying even when she sucks new marks into your skin, right next to the ones momo's left on you last night. the both of you don't know what this means, just that it's the end of something, and you were both going to make the most of it.

♰˚☽˚｡⋆

"so how's sana been?"

"huh?"

"your best friend y/n. was everything okay after she wasn't able to make dinner last week? you haven't talked about her much since then."

"oh. yeah she's alright." you're not really sure if she was alright actually. you haven't seen her since the two of you slept together. you woke up to an empty bed, no note, but all of her things were still around so you know she hasn't run off to another country or anything.

"that's good. is there anything you wanna talk about?"

"what do you mean?"

"you've just been a little distant since last week. is it- do you regret- do you still want to be together?"

you look up from pushing your food around your plate, surprised at the vulnerability in momo's voice.

"no- i mean yes of course i still want to be together! i'm sorry i've been off i just-" you sigh dejectedly, "there's something i need to show you after work today."

"oh?"

"yeah... it's not... it's not anything you have to worry about, and i think it'll explain a lot, but it's also pretty heavy so i understand if you don't want to-"

you're cut off when she grabs your hand, squeezing it gently and smiling, "i'd love for you to show me. i'm just glad you're not breaking up with me one week into the relationship." she jokes a little, trying to lighten the mood, and you smile, grateful for her, but feeling your anxieties pile up knowing that you were about to reveal something to momo that no one else except sana knew. if you wanted this relationship to work though, you needed to do this. you couldn't start this relationship off on the wrong foot, you wanted to do this right.

♰˚☽˚｡⋆

your grip on momo's hand is tight, but she doesn't complain, squeezing back every few minutes to remind you that you weren't alone.

after work, you had driven both you and momo to your destination, a park a little out of the ways. the drive was quiet, momo didn't mind though, humming softly to the music on the radio and staring out the window, glancing back at you every so often. you parked, stepping out of the car, already doubting the decision of coming here.

there are a few other people in the park milling about. momo smiles politely at an old couple who break away from a hug to nod greetings at you. you barely notice them though, your tunnel vision and your thoughts becoming louder as you get closer.

you pull along momo who's holding a large bunch of flowers that you had stopped by at the florist on your drive to pick up.

you spot her then. avoiding eye contact as you get closer to her.

then you're standing in front of her.

"y/n."

momo lets out a little muted gasp behind you, but you squeeze her hand, focusing forward.

"sana."

"i see you've decided to forcefully make momo and i meet like this."

"i didn't have any other option."

"there's always another option y/n."

"not when it comes to you sana."

she tilts her head, "what is that supposed to mean?"

you shuffle your feet a little, "you know what it means."

she sighs, stepping closer and cupping your cheek. "why are you crying?"

you're surprised at her statement, the hand that's not holding momo's coming up to wipe hastily at your eyes.

sana's hand drops along with her face. "i thought you said you'd never forget me."

"and i never will sana."

"what's this then? it feels an awful lot like goodbye."

you can't contain the tears streaming down your cheeks, "i could never say goodbye to you sana."

sana's crying now too when she looks up, "don't then. don't say goodbye. say you'll pick me. say we'll stay together for the rest of our lives, like we promised when we were kids. say you love me y/n."

"i-i- i can't sana! i can't do that!"

"why not?"

"because- because i still have the rest of my life sana."

she sniffles, wiping at her eyes. how you wished you could see her smile just once more.

"i guess this is it then."

"no. no this isn't- i told you sana i'll never forget you. you'll always be with me. everything i do i'll always think about you, every new person i meet, every new life stage i enter, i'll think about you. i- i- i loved you sana."

then sana's in your arms, crying into your neck while you hold her, sobbing nearly hysterically, clutching onto everything, a film roll of memories playing behind your eyelids, of the first time you met, the first kiss you shared drunk at a college party, the times you'd piggy back sana from the library to your shared apartment after attempting to pull an all-nighter, the time you first signed your lease together, the time she squealed and brought you into a hug after you got your first job, insisting on a celebration, every single birthday, graduation, milestone, every single moment you've shared with her crosses your mind.

"i have to let you go now." you croak into her ear, voice still shaky and laden with emotion.

she's quiet for a bit, then she pulls back, eyes wet but smiling. she's smiling. oh god you've missed it. "i understand." she says against your lips, foreheads knocked against one another's. you close your eyes, committing to memory her smile, each line, each crease, you were never going to forget her.

when you blink your eyes open again, she's gone, the only evidence of her existence, the headstone reading:

in loving memory of

minatozaki sana

1996 - 2019

you don't even realise you're crouching in front of the headstone now, having let go of momo's hand long ago, until you hear a small rustle behind you and you look up to see momo offering the flower bouqet to you and crouhing down. you smile in gratitude, taking it from her and placing it under the letters of the headstone gently, rearranging to make sure it fit perfectly.

you speak up after a while, having left momo in the dark for long enough now. "it was a freak accident. she was coming home late after work because there was this kid in her class who's parents didn't come pick them up until way after school ended. she was in a rush because it was movie night. no matter how busy our lives got, we always had movie night, something that was stable when everything else in life wasn't i guess. didn't see the car coming. she died on the way to the hospital."

momo's quiet, placing a hand gently on your shoulder.

"i'm sorry i lied to you. i haven't- it's been five years since it happened, but i haven't fully moved on i guess. not until now. you know this is the first time i've visited her grave since the funeral?" you chuckle brokenly, feeling the tears well up again.

"and there's not even anything under here. she was cremated and her parents took her back to japan."

"that doesn't mean you can't still grieve here."

you sigh, "i know. and it's silly y'know? to think i'm still grieiving after 5 years. everyone else has moved on except me. i still- i still saw her everyday- in that way i wasn't lying to you. i just- after the accident and then the rush of the funeral, it all didn't feel real. i still felt like i was going home to sana, and to laughs and smiles and movie nights and cuddles. it didn't make sense y'know? i know death is natural and whatever but it doesn't make sense to me, how someone is here one second and then gone the next. i couldn't make sense of it. so i didn't. she was still alive to me. i still saw her everyday, still packed both our lunches, sent her off to work, took care of her when she was sick, i never got rid of any of her things because in my head she was still using them. she still has her place on the shoe rack at home, her clothes are still mixed in with mine, her expired skin products are still on the bathroom counter. i never- she's always been with me momo i-"

you start blubbering, words no longer making sense and you feel momo shuffling closer to you, wrapping her arm around you tentatively, and you turn and bury yourself into her, crying into the arms of someone physical. someone who was real, who was here in the present with you.

momo doesn't say anything, letting you cry, running her hand through your hair soothingly, letting you take as much time as you needed.

when your sobs subside the sun's setting. you sniffle into her, breathing in her scent, a new comfort to you.

"grief is a monster. not everyone gets out alive, and those that do might only survive in pieces. but it's a monster that can be conquered with time."

you chuckle a little into her. "where'd you get that from?"

"a book i read. summer bird blue. i can lend it to you if you want."

you hum, pulling away from her and wiping at your eyes, smiling softly, "i'd like that."

she smiles as well. "do you think she would’ve liked me?"

you turn back to the gravestone, the cold words etched in marble. "yeah. i think she would’ve loved you. i kept on telling her that y'know? in my head. you two would’ve gotten along famously."

"i'm glad." momo turns to the gravestone as well, "it's nice to finally meet you sana. i promise i'll take care of y/n. you don't have to give me the whole best friend speech about how you'll curse me for the rest of my life or anything. she's special, and i'm grateful you were such a good friend to her. she loved you a lot."

you sniffle, listening to momo talk to sana. when she's done, she looks back at you with a smile, her face illuminated with the golden-orange hues of the sunset.

"thank you momo."

"hmm?"

"remember how i was talking about soulmates? how i think there's people i was meant to meet and people i'm not? thank you. i think sana brought you into my life to help me get over this. i haven't- the last five years has just been me in my head, i've been on autopilot. you were the first person to change that. to make me feel like- like there was a little more brightness to life again."

momo's tearing up now as well, you'll learn that it's not very common that she cries. "i'm glad fate has led me to you then. and i hope you know this doesn't mean sana's gone. she'll always stay with you."

you look back to the tombstone longingly, "i know. i promised i'd never forget her. she will always stay with me."

momo leans into you again, and you rest your head on her shoulder, the cool breeze blowing against you softly, the sun setting behind you.

maybe momo was right. it took you five years, and it'll probably take you a lot longer, but you were going to get over this monster, and you were going to live out the rest of your life, like sana always wanted for you, not in-your-head-sana, the real sana that you're not afraid to admit is gone now, but will always stay in your mind, your heart, with your soul.

[runningfrom2am]

leveling the playing field VIII

summary: you didn't meet the requirements for the plinth prize, only to find out that you're not just missing out on that- you're missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. your friend wants to help, because maybe you can help each other.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.2k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there

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a/n: omg so this is the final part of the first like, section of this story! i probably should have not called them parts bc idk what to do for the second like.. bit. season? maybe?) yeah sure, season two coming soon!! lol

thank you guys so much for being here and reading this and enjoying it as much as i have enjoyed writing it! it truly means so much to me :)

next part

You hear footsteps and turn around in the seat, hoping desperately that it's Coryo, and you are relieved to see that it finally is. He had been gone for close to an hour. You stand quickly, going to meet him halfway, what you had to tell him couldn't wait. "Coryo," You say quickly, before launching into the full story. "Lucy Gray came back, the others were chasing her and she hid in that vent and she's still in there, they're trying to figure out how to get in. She's stuck."

You follow him back to the desk, his eyes wide now too. "That's good... I think that's good." He's scanning the arena again, as if there's any inch of it he hasn't committed to memory, trying to see if there was any way Dr. Gaul's snakes could reach her in the vent you pointed to.

"No, no it's not good because I don't think there's another way out of that one except the way she came in." You dig into your bag as it hangs at his side, pulling out the notebook that you drew the map in. "Yeah, look- it's pinched off about thirty feet in." You point to the page, holding it out for him to see.

"She just has to wait them out." He insists, pushing your hand down. "Put that away- you shouldn't have that."

Why is he so calm about this? Lucy Gray was trapped, and this time there was nothing either of you could do to help her. "Yeah, but that's not going to work for much longer." You say, watching as the three make a plan to push her farther into the vent and try and get her out from the bottom.

Hurriedly, you close your notebook and put it away so you don't have to look away for long.

"Just a little longer, Lucy Gray..." Coryo mutters to himself and grips onto your hand at his side. At this, you reach across your body and rub his arm with your free hand. His whole future could collapse in a matter of moments if Lucy Gray doesn't survive. Yours could too. But as you watch Coral thrust her weapon up into the pipes that you know Lucy Gray is inside, you flinch, not knowing how much longer Lucy Gray can hold out.

You can't even process what is happening to Treech and the outcries of his mentor and people in the theatre, wondering what happened to him as he collapses with a bloody nose. You knew, so you avoided even looking in their direction as Lucy Gray tumbled from the now shredded vent, landing directly on top of Coral before making a run for it. You're sure Coriolanus isn't even breathing.

You aren't either when every one of the tributes freezing and the wind starts whipping Lucy Gray's hair around her face and her dress around her sides. Everyone watches as a large tank is lowered into the arena and dropped delicately on top of the pile of debris in the center.

"What is that?" You wonder out loud, and Coryo just shakes his head as you look up at him.

"C'mon Lucy Gray, get out of there..."

"Wouldn't it be funny if it was candy?" Lucky jokes and you stifle a laugh.

At this moment, the young girl from District Eight wanders out into the clearing, pale and skinny. "Is it over?" She asks no one in particular, making your smile fade.

"Wovey..." Reaper warns her from where he's kneeling next to the bodies he had covered with the flag.

"Can we go home now?" You clutch your hand back to your chest as she walks toward the tank- you don't know what was in the tank, but you know it wouldn't be good.

"Wovey." He warns again, more stern this time with a slight shake of his head.

The tank starts to splinter, cracking steadily along all sides until it bursts open. You gasp at the amount of snakes that come out. A wave of moving, rainbow destruction crashes over the floor and completely engulfs the little girl in a fraction of a second, as everyone else starts to run.

As Lucy Gray and Coral make a break for the walls, trying to get up to the stands, Reaper seems to just accept his fate. You feel... bad. He could have taken your offer made days before, he could be winning right now. At least he and Wovey didn't suffer.

As Lucy Gray pushes herself backward up the pile of rubble away from the fast moving snakes, Coral starts speaking to her. You can't hear what she's saying, but you can see she's crying- maybe pleading for Lucy Gray's help, maybe just saying her goodbyes to this world. It didn't matter, Lucy Gray was the last one alive as Coral's body got surrounded by the snakes.

Please work. Coriolanus begs the universe, hoping that the cloth he had used to wipe her tears and the one she used to wipe away the dirt from her skin before the interview, which he took from your bag and shoved into slots in the tank would be enough to save her.

"She won!" You grin, shaking Coryo's shoulder as he stands beside you, eyes still locked on Lucy Gray.

That's when she starts to sing, just as the snakes catch up to her. Why aren't they letting her out? It was over.

"Why aren't they getting her out?" You ask him, confused as everyone watches intensely, entranced by her voice.

"I'll be along, when I've finished my song..."

Coryo and you both turn, facing the audience now and all eyes immediately lock on Dr. Gaul. "Dr. Gaul, she won." He says, as if somehow she's missed it- surely she had. Surely she's not watching the same thing you are.

"When I've shut down the band, played out my hand..."

"It's over, let her out!" You shout, attempting to draw her attention.

"Paid all my debts..."

"Why aren't they attacking her?" You hear someone ask, noticing the snakes are almost entirely covering Lucy Gray's shirt now.

"Have no regrets, right here..."

"It must be the singing," Coryo replies, and you look up at him. You don't know that that's true, but you won't ask. "It's calming them."

"In the old therebefore..."

"She can't sing forever."

"Then let her out!" You yell, looking pleadingly up at Dr. Gaul in the stands. "Dr. Gaul!" You demand her attention now, stomping your foot down.

Your blood is boiling when she still won't look at you and the sound of Lucy Gray's voice fills the theatre. "Look at me!" You scream, and clearly, people are getting annoyed at you for interrupting Lucy Gray's song. "Look at me now or let her out!"

She does neither, not until Lucy Gray's song moves everyone else to match your cries for her to be released. Only then does Dr. Gaul look at the two of you, and you drop Coryo's hand.

The doctor sighs, leaning over to her assistant. "Get her out. Now." She says, and cheers erupt in the room previously filled with emotional tears.

"I did it." Coryo says, and you have to lean close to hear it over everyone's delight.

"You did it!" You laugh, throwing your arms over his shoulders. You scream in excitement as he hugs you back, lifting you up and spinning you around as people crowd the two of you. You don't think you've ever been happier.

As he lets you down gently, grabbing your cheeks and pressing a kiss to your forehead, you wonder if your parents are watching. You can't wait to get home, to see your family and let them sing your praises for Coriolanus's success in the games. Well, Lucy Gray's success that the two of you get to reap the rewards of.

Then, he's gone, leaving you to gather your things while he goes to see Tigris. You smile, sighing to yourself as you watch. It's likely your father has already sent the car to collect you, so you should probably get going. You're in dire need of a celebratory bath, anyway.

Last night, you had the best sleep you had gotten in weeks. A full eight hours- a privilege you didn't know you missed so bad. Even when you had to get up for school around six, you felt so well rested you knew you could take on the world.

That was until you walked downstairs for breakfast. "Good morning." You grin, skipping down the last couple of steps only to be met with your father hanging up the phone, storming over to you, and shoving you back onto the staircase.

"Sit down. Listen to me." He spits as you groan, holding your head from where it hit the railing and adjusting yourself so you are sitting properly on the stairs.

"Ow... What did I do?"

"You know what you did, Y/N." He hisses, pacing in front of you. "Un-fucking-believable! They went out on a limb for you, and this is how you repay them? Do you even realize what you have done? To me? To this family?"

The poison.

"Dad, I didn't do anything! I had no say in it! Coryo gave her the compact empty- it wasn't our business what she did with it!" You argue, standing up only to earn yourself a slap across the face.

"You were to give her nothing. You knew that." You hold your cheek while he lectures you, and you just nod.

"Yes, sir." You sniff, rubbing your jaw to soothe the sting of your already burning skin. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize to me- you will apologize to Dean Highbottom first thing this morning and hope he's smart enough to forgive you. Now, go."

You pull your bag back over your shoulder, avoiding eye contact with your little brother and your mother sat at the table as you walked out the door. It looks like you're walking today.

You make it to your first class, obviously not feeling too excited about the concept of speaking with the Dean. Coryo walks in just a few moments after you, stealing the seat at your side. You can't even look at him.

"Good morning." He whispers, pulling his textbook out of his bag. He's in good spirits it seems, but you know that won't last long. "You left in a hurry after the games yesterday, I was hoping we would celebrate together."

When you don't respond, he furrows his brow. Were you mad at him? Had he done something? "Wow, you're a ray of sunshine this morning, aren't you?" He asks, disguising his hurt as a joke. His intention was to come back to you after speaking with Tigris, he wanted to see if you would like to go for a walk or something and discuss everything. He didn't really have a plan, but he didn't want you to leave his side, not yet. The games had ended all too quickly, and you had yet to even discuss what had happened with the kiss you shared. He couldn't let you slip back into a routine of only seeing each other in class and during breaks, he couldn't bear the mere idea of it.

You slam your pen down on the desk, turning to look at him now. "We are in such deep, deep shit, Coriolanus." You hiss, taking notice of everyone looking at you so you quiet down.

"Your... your cheek." He just mutters, leaning in to look closely at the other side of your face and the maroon bruise that now adorned it. Even under your makeup he could see it. "What happened?" He reaches out to gently brush his hand over your jaw and you flinch away quickly.

You sigh, looking around quickly before leaning in closer to whisper to him. "They know, about the poison. We're done for, enjoy your final moments of freedom." You move away quickly as your professor starts speaking and the world begins to crash down around your best friend.

He sits back, face pale as his stomach turns. How could they know? They must have found the compact on Lucy Gray- it must not have been empty. Or was it the cloths in the tank? Those would be easier to find, probably, but how could they be traced back to you?

"We need to borrow Miss Y/L/N and Mister Snow, please." A peacekeeper says as he knocks on the open door frame, eyes quickly finding the two of you.

"It was nice knowing you." You sigh, quickly gathering your things and making your way down to the door.

He follows quickly behind, and for once, your classmates are silent.

A group of three peacekeepers lead you down a quiet hallway of the school, and stop at an open door gesturing for the two of you to enter.

"Ladies first," Coriolanus says softly, stepping aside for you to enter.

"Oh, so now I'm a lady." You scoff quietly, walking into the large open room, the high biology room, with nothing but a table in the center. The table is adorned only with the compact he had given to Lucy Gray, and two handkerchiefs. One of his, and one of yours. How did they get that?

"Kids." Dean Highbottom greets the two of you as the door slams shut behind you.

You open your mouth to speak, taking a breath and he stops you before you get the chance. "I don't know how many times I have to tell you this, Y/N, but I don't want to hear it."

"No, I think you do." You protest, "Because my-"

"Your father?" He cuts you off. "What about him? Because I just got off the phone with him this morning, and judging by the state of your face, I would argue that I am in agreement with him."

You swallow, fighting the urge to look down and avoid his gaze. If you had any chance of walking out of here without being in too much trouble, you had to prove that you were not afraid.

"Don't you think that she's been punished enough?" Coryo argues, looking between the two of you.

"Coriolanus." He ignores his plea, tapping the table next to the compact. "How many times did I see your mother pull this from her handbag to check her face? Your pretty, vapid mother, who'd somehow convinced himself that your father would give her freedom and love. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, as they say."

"She wasn't." Coryo protests, referring to the Dean's insinuations about his mother. You look at him, but he won't meet your gaze.

"Only her youth excused her, and, really, she seemed fated to be a child forever. Just like the opposite of your girl, here." He gestures to you. "Eighteen going on thirty-five, and a hard thirty-five, at that. Your songbird, too."

"She gave you the compact?" Coriolanus asks, the sadness of betrayal evident on his features at the idea of Lucy Gray handing it over.

"Oh, don't blame her. The peacekeepers had to wrestle her to get the thing. Naturally, we do a thorough search of the victors when they leave the arena." Dean Highbottom explains, tilting his head as he looks between the two of you. "So smart of her, to poison the water Dill drank and dust it over Treech the way she did. If I didn't know better, I would have thought I was watching you, Miss Y/L/N."

You take a sharp breath, making an effort to straighten your posture.

"She claimed that the poison was her idea, that the compact was nothing but a token." He adds.

"It was." You state, though he is likely speaking to Coriolanus.

"Oh, I'm glad to see you got your story straight." Highbottom nods at you, voice dripping in sarcasm. "But I don't believe you. Even if I did, what am I to make of these?" He taps next to the handkerchiefs now next to it. "One of the lab assistants found these in the snake tank last night. Everyone was baffled at first, checking to see if it was one of their own that they had dropped. Until we noticed the initials. Not yours. Your father's. So delicately stitched into the corner..."

You look at Coryo, who is fighting to keep a straight face through his urge to vomit. "Why haven't you made this public?" He asks.

"I know why." You say, crossing your arms and looking the Dean up and down, who just rolls his eyes.

"I was tempted," He ignores you. "Believe me, I was. But the academy, when expelling students, has a tradition of offering them a lifeline. As an alternative to public disgrace, Coriolanus, you may join the peacekeepers by the end of the day."

Coryo's heart drops, as does yours. "The other one, it's hers." He points suddenly to the other cloth, next to his father's. Your jaw drops. How dare he throw you under the bus like that?

"I was getting to that." The Dean sighs as you shoot glares into the side of Coriolanus's head.

"I didn't do that! He took my bag, he took it and put it in the tank- I didn't know anything!" You argue, and he once again raises a hand at you to shut you up.

"Coriolanus, you better hurry. The office closes in twenty minutes, if you run you can make it in time." Highbottom says to your classmate, who just nods and turns for the door. "Oh, and what's that?" He asks, looking up at the skylight. "It's the sound of Snow, falling."

Coriolanus glares at him, pacing quickly out of the door and slamming it behind himself.

You're in shock still over why he would do that to you, but you don't have the time to process it before the Dean is scolding you. "Now, what will happen to you, huh?" He asks, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms. "Be honest, did you know?"

"No, sir." You reply, giving a firm shake of your head.

"That's a shame. He really threw you under, huh?" He laughs, mocking you. "After what I saw the other day, I was expecting he would defend you tooth and nail... but no. I mean, he is a Snow, after all."

You don't say a word, just glaring at the man in front of you and waiting for him to tell you your fate.

"Anyway, if it was up to me, you would already be undergoing the necessary procedures to become an Avox. Oh, how I would love to see you without a tongue." He muses, sighing in disappointment. "But I know your father would be embarrassed so I think it best to leave your punishment in his hands, would you agree? Outside, of course, your expulsion."

"You can't expel me!" You shout, fists clenched around the sleeves of your coat.

"Enough of your tantrums, Y/N. You're too old for this. But, alas, you're right. I'm obligated to extend you the olive branch too." He concedes. "You are allowed to graduate under the condition that you work in service for the next ten years. Although keep in mind, your father won't like that."

"Fuck your olive branch! How dare you threaten me like this! I did nothing wrong, we won!" You fire off, practically twitching with anger at this point. "If you won't go public with it, I will! I've got nothing to lose now, the whole country will know what you and my dad are doing! What you're selling! I'll tell everyone! You'll be executed for treason!" You didn't even notice when you started grabbing anything you could reach and launching it in his direction until the peacekeepers were grabbing the back of your arms and dragging you away kicking and screaming. "You'll hang for this!"

You hardly make it to the door before you feel a stab in your neck, and the world fades to black around you.

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[samsno1]

Hi, idk how often you do requests but could you do a mid season Sam fic. The reader is with the FBI with the unexplained cases and she meets the brothers. It would be funny if they tried to convince her that they are also with the FBI and she somehow catches them in their lie. They work together in the case and Sam and the reader end up falling for eachother. Thanks you so so much!!!!

Caught

Sam Winchester X F!Reader

this took me so long to write i'm so sorry. i don't reeeeally like the ending but i did the best i could. i hope this is what you expected bby <3

Summary: You were assigned a complex case and you end up meeting two very weird men who were, apparently, also FBI agents but...why are they named after famous rockstars?

Warnings: FLUFF, descriptions of murderer, murder scenes and violence (usual supernatural shenanigans), sam is an 'intimidating woman enjoyer™', use of Y/N, the writer (me) has no idea how fbi works because she isn't an USA resident, NOT PROOF READ, english is not my first language

W.C.: 8,8k

enjoy!

You had climbed the ladder in the world of criminology considerably fast considering your age. Getting into the FBI in your late 20s was probably one of your biggest achievements and, of course, men tended to make disgusting comments about how such a young woman got such a difficult job – including claiming you opened your legs to get this far. You didn’t mind, actually, it added to your ego to be above those guys – as if they even deserved to be in a job that required empathy towards the victims.

Still, even your superior was shocked at the case he found. A couple had been killed inside their room without any signs of forced entry. All doors and windows were locked and nothing inside the house had been stolen; the bodies seemed to be torn apart from the inside out since there were no knife or bullet wounds and he put you on the case. He thought you would have the abilities to deal with something like this – ‘you’re a prodigy’ he had said – and the guts. The crime scene was absolutely vile; there was blood everywhere and their faces had the skin peeled off to the point their cranial bones were visible. You had seen some stuff, but nothing like this.

The first thing that you did when you got to town was talking with the local police so that you’d learn more about the town’s history with murderers – especially the unexplainable ones. They told you something close to an urban legend: the house that the couple was renting was cursed according to the locals. Decades ago, three kids got killed by their parents in rage, who committed suicide afterwards. They never found the kids bodies and the case went cold after a few years, the police giving up on finding their remains. You found that absolutely unacceptable, giving up on children like that should be a crime, but it wasn’t up to you. Ever since the assassination, every person that rented or bought the house died in unexplainable ways and the police had started to practically ignore or do the bare minimum on the case.

“We’ve been having problems with that house for years” Said the sheriff, a man with a grown out beard, deep eyebags and average height. Not what you would expect for a sheriff given his dismissiveness towards you and the mess his office was. “The previous sheriff also received complaints from townsfolk regarding the place but we could never find out anything. There were no clues, no suspects, just…nothing” He finished, his arms waving around tiredly.

“This is probably why they put the FBI on the case” You said to yourself, guaranteeing the man wouldn’t hear you. You took notes on your notebook, your legs crossed as you sat in front of the sheriff, his table between both of you. You could sense his eyes on you and feel his unasked question floating around in the air. “Anything else, Sheriff?” You asked, looking up from your notes.

He seemed to wake up from his thoughts, shaking his head lightly at you. “No it’s just…Why do you need three FBI agents to work on this?” He asked, on edge, a worry line prominent in his aged face as he squinted at you. Three? You furrowed your eyebrows and leaned back on the chair, closing your notebook.

“I’m not aware of the other two working alongside me” You say. You thought about what your boss had told you and didn’t remember him saying anything about partners, especially two. You usually worked alone most of the time, functioning better on your own. Then again, this was a difficult case, maybe they thought it was better than one federal agent working on this.

“They came by earlier today, asking about the same house and the murderers. They were tall, one of them was…very tall and had long hair. The other one was less serious and, honestly, unprofessional. I think they said they were agent Page and Plant” The sheriff filled you in and now this seemed like a joke. You raised an eyebrow. You had a peculiar taste in music considering it was the 2000s and your father barely listened to anything further than the 90s, resulting in you growing up to know most of the rock bands that were at their highest from the 60s to the 90s. That included Led Zeppelin. And it would be too big of a coincidence for both guys to work together with last names such as those.

“I’ll talk to them about the case, thank you very much Sheriff” You say, raising yourself from the chair and extending a hand to politely shake his. You walked out of his office with a question in your mind and thought about looking up Page and Plant on the database to see if anything showed up when you got to your room tonight. For now, you had to take a look at the crime scene while it was still daylight.

–

Your car’s engine died down as you turned the key. You opened the door and stepped out of the vehicle, adjusting your suit over the white button down you wore underneath. You shoved your car key in your pocket and, when you looked up, you saw another car that easily stood out from the others around the street – a black Chevrolet Impala which you couldn’t guess the specific year just by looking. It was a very beautiful car and you secretly praised in your mind whoever owned it – it seemed well taken care of.

You walked to the crime scene, taking your badge in hand to show it to the police officer that took care of the place when you saw two men, also in suits, talking with one of the officers – two tall men, one had longer hair. The officer approached you as you got closer and you simply showed your badge to him before he nodded and lifted up the ‘crime scene’ tape for you to go underneath. You ducked down and mumbled a thank you as you made a beeline towards the two guys.

You wondered what you were going to say and how you were going to question them about their identity without seeming like you’re assuming anything. As you walked closer, they were finishing their conversation and were turning to leave making you almost bump right into them. They stumbled back and you crossed your arms in front of your chest.

“Who are you?” The shorter one asked you and you took the badge out of your pocket again with a sigh, making sure he reads your name and sees the picture of you that clearly stated you were a federal. He hummed and looked towards his partner, a silent conversation going on between them. You interrupt.

“And you?” You ask and they get their own badges out. You extend a hand to the taller one, silently asking you if you could take a look at it. He gave it to you willingly, which was one less red flag to take into consideration. You looked through everything and it all seemed alright…until you looked at the name on the bottom. Jimmy Page. Is this serious? You look up at them with a judging look and you see the tallest swallow harshly. “Your parents were big Led Zeppelin fans I assume” You say.

“Yeah, yeah they– ha– they were” Jimmy says in a way that’s not believable at all, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. The shorter one closes his eyes and shakes his head discreetly in disappointment – which doesn’t go unnoticed by you. You give Page his badge back and turn to – apparently – Plant.

“I didn’t know that I would have partners in this case, but maybe it’s for the better. What did you find out about the case? Just so we are on the same page” You look between both of them. Plant nudges his partner in the ribs and, before mumbling somewhat of a curse to Plant after practically jumping in place, Page starts to explain to you about their side of the investigation. He seemed professional enough, with a notebook in his hands as he told you everything they could make up from what they knew so far, even sharing with you his assumptions. You were impressed as you started telling him about what you thought – a weird case, too many murders, few clues…Plant stayed quiet most of the time until about halfway through your conversation he said he was going back to his car and you took that as a hint to call it a day.

“Well, I think we are going to work well together, Agent L/N” Page says with a polite smile and you nod, smiling yourself. You took one of your cards where your professional number was written on along with your name and offered it to him. He gently took it from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours.

“Just in case you have anything else to share” You said and he nodded, a strand of his hair falling over his face, which he mindlessly put back with a brush of his hand. “It was great meeting you, Agent Page”

“You too” He said and, sensing the end of the encounter, you started to walk back to your car. You still couldn’t shake the thought of those two being too suspicious for your liking and you were determined to look them up and see if Agents Jimmy Page and Robert Plant actually existed. You walked fast, your heels knocking against the concrete and you didn’t notice Page’s eyes on you, lost in the movement of your hair as you walked away. What woke him up from his trance, though, was his partner honking and signaling for him to hurry up. He rolled his eyes and walked to his own car, stealing one last glance at you. You turned your head back right on cue, giving him a polite smile and a small wave. He awkwardly waved goodbye back and started to walk to the honking Impala.

You had assumed the unknown car belonged to them and you had written down the plate in your notebook discreetly – just in case. You were impressed by their ability – well, Page’s ability – to analyze crime scenes but you weren’t stupid. You couldn’t just erase the fact that you had no idea who those two were and you were determined to find out, one way or another.

–

Meanwhile, in the Impala, Sam got inside the car in the passenger’s side, almost hitting his head on the roof – like he did most days. Dean was impatiently waiting for him to get in until he saw something clasped in his brother’s hand, his eyes quietly scanning the white paper. In Sam’s distraction, Dean reached for it before he could react. “Hey!”

“You got her number? Wow Sam, never thought of you like that” Dean teased as he looked through your name written in cursive writing and your phone number right under it. Sam snatched the small card back from his brother and shoved it in his pocket, glaring at Dean.

“Shut up man, this is her professional number, she gave it to me so we could talk” He defended as he put his seatbelt on. He mindlessly brushed a hand through his hair again, getting it out of his face as he heard Dean chuckle to himself as Baby’s engine roared to life. Sam looked back to his brother and waited for more teasing to come – as it always did.

“Yeah, talk.” He said, the double meaning in his words floating around in the air but being ignored by Sam. Dean pressed his foot on the pedal so the car would start to move as he shifted into gear. “Besides, she’s an actual FBI agent, don’t you think she’s going to suspect that we aren’t?”

“Dean, I did go to law school, I can manage my way out of this” Sam said with a mischievous smile. He really thought he could, he knew he was smart and he was a damn good liar – he lied in college for a very long time about who he was and what his family did. Not something to be proud of but it came in handy, especially when both him and his brother were in trouble. He had practically lied his whole life about who he truly was, not entirely giving away specific details – especially those who involved his family. Sometimes he regretted it – like he did with Jess – but it was always safer not to know, for both parties. Or so he thought.

“Don’t think she’s stupid–”

“I don’t think she’s stupid–”

“Let me finish” Dean scolded, raising a hand to silence his brother, his eyes still on the road. It was often funny to pay attention to their brotherly behavior and how anyone could know who was the oldest just by these simple interactions. Dean raised his hand and Sam silenced, listening, like how it was when they were kids. “Don’t think she’s naive, she is in the FBI, working alone on a case. I don’t know much about federals but I’m sure that’s not for everyone”

Sam stayed quiet. He knew Dean was right but it wouldn’t hurt to try. Still, he really didn’t think you were stupid, it was impossible to. The way you talked about the case in detail, relating your point of view and what you could gather in a few hours was more than enough evidence to show him you deserved this job more than anyone. He wasn’t used to seeing women in this field, but everytime he did he was convinced that men were definitely unfairly placed higher. Yet, he still didn’t want to get arrested again so he needed to convince you that he and Dean were legitimately federals.

The conversation drifted away in another direction as Sam stared out the window and replied to the small talk Dean made with him every now and then – when he didn’t crank up the volume once Metallica came into the radio playing Creeping Death while they were talking. With a chorus of ‘Die, die!’ being sung by Dean while he beat his hands on the steering wheel to the drum rhythm, Sam’s mind drifted away and he fell asleep with a head against the window, the tiredness of sleepless nights catching up to him.

–

These fuckers. You thought to yourself as you stared mouth agape to the pictures of who you learned were actually Sam and Dean Winchester – not Jimmy Page and Robert Plant. Two brothers, presumed dead a couple years ago.

Your coffee sat cold over the wooden table of the hotel you were staying the night at. You had already changed into your pajamas and taken a hot shower when you decided to take a look at the case again. Two hours later you remembered the two men you encountered and, when you looked a bit deeper in the police files, the results were horrifying. It actually wasn’t that hard to find out about them, a quick look through the FBI database and you found their exact faces – even if Pag- Sam’s hair was relatively shorter then now. You were beyond pissed, especially at yourself, how could you not have known this? How could you let yourself get played like this? Just because the tall guy was a bit of a nerd and kind of cute? Ugh!

You started pacing around your room, not knowing what to do. Confronting them could kill you, they were murderers after all, according to the database, they had killed civilians and federal agents equally as much. You were strong, both physically and mentally, but there was no way you were escaping two guys that were over six feet tall and weighed about two hundred pounds each. You had to play smart, you had to catch them in a weak moment and then. Bingo. You stopped in your tracks and – like a lightbulb lightened up above your head – you had the perfect plan. You had to wait until the next day for you to execute it but it was going to be worth it. You sent their mugshots to your phone through your e-mail and any other evidence that you could use against them.

You still felt slightly weirded out about them. They didn’t seem dangerous, they didn’t freak out the moment they saw you and they were confidently adding to the investigation with actual useful analysis. You were looking deeper through their files and found out they lost their mother in a fire at a very young age – the youngest wasn’t even one year old yet – and their father had died a couple years ago, in ‘06. They had a pretty sketchy life, living off stolen credit cards and fake identities but something interesting you found out was that Sam Winchester actually went to college, he went to Stanford and your eyes widened at that. You wondered what made him quit, maybe his father dying and his brother needing him, maybe he got kicked out, still, going to college after having a childhood like that was more than impressive.

You kept reading about them until the late hours of the night and you only noticed you fell asleep over the papers you left on the table and your computer when a phone ringing startled you awake. The noise echoed inside your head and, as you lifted your head, the sunlight getting into the room through the curtains hurt your eyes. You only noticed how bad you’d slept when you felt a pain shoot through your neck and down your back as you turned your head to look for the phone – great. You groaned and felt around the table with your hand until you felt the square shape of the device and its humming. You clicked to answer after slightly clearing your throat so you’d seem less sleepy and put the phone to your ear.

“Hello, Agent L/N speaking”

“Hey Y/N, how are things going?” The voice of your boss made you unconsciously straighten your back and swallow harshly. You looked at the time on your computer and your heart fell to your stomach. 11:36AM – shit! 

“Hey Sir, everything is running smoothly. I’m currently collecting evidence and later I’m going to the morgue so I can look through the autopsy”

“That’s great, you always do a great job kid” He said and you could feel him smiling on the other side of the line. You felt bad for kind of lying but you had been worrying about other stuff last night.

“Thank you Sir, I’ll report back to you as soon as possible” You reply.

You talked for a while longer as you disclosed the case and, when he finally hung up, it was already past noon. As you got ready for your day, doing your daily morning routine as quickly as you could, you felt your stomach rumble when you got out of the shower, reminding you that you hadn’t had breakfast. You decided then that it was better to stop at a diner or somewhere so you could eat something to go on with your day – since it was already lunchtime you couldn’t necessarily call this brunch. You finished getting ready, putting on your shoes and grabbing the keys to your car while you looked up the closest place to eat something quick.

You drove to the nearest diner that had a decent rating and stopped at the parking lot. When you looked around, you couldn’t believe your luck – or rather the lack of it. The infamous Impala was parked a couple meters from you in all its glory. You audibly sighed but you couldn’t just find another place to eat as quickly, besides, you know what they say, keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Maybe eating at the same place as them was actually a good strategy. You grabbed your wallet and locked your car, confidently walking towards the diner entrance.

The bells dinged above your head as you got in, some eyes looking your way with the noise – including Sam’s. Him and his brother were sitting in a booth in the far corner of the diner, Sam turned in the direction of the door and Dean facing away from it, in his brother’s direction. Sam had his laptop open in front of him as he ate a salad, Dean was eating a burger. Thay had probably been talking before you came in because when you came through the door Sam went quiet as he looked over his brother’s shoulder and Dean kept talking, hunched over his food. You couldn’t listen to their conversation but you gave Sam a slight smile and a nod, your stomach turning as you faked sympathy, as if you didn’t just friendly greet a murderer. He nodded back and that's when Dean slightly turned to look behind him and see you, nodding as well.

You started to walk towards their table, the weight of your hidden gun on your hip more than evident. Just keep calm, you were trained for this. You decided to keep to yourself that you knew their true identity, after all, you were one step ahead of them and, deep down, you knew they could be useful. Their intelligence was beyond impressive – faking your death wasn’t something easy to do. You stood above them with a gentle smile.

“Hello agents, mind if I sit with you?” You asked as politely as you could. Sam scooted almost instantly, changing the placement of his laptop to the side of the window. You didn’t miss the eyebrow raise his brother gave him.

“Hey Ms. L/N. No, not at all, make yourself comfortable” He said, smiling at you. He has dimples you mentally stated.

“Yeah, please” Dean agreed, stretching a hand to the seat beside Sam. His voice was slightly muffled thanks to the food in his mouth and you internally cringed as you could see the chewed food when he talked.

“Thanks. No need to call me by my last name, you can just call me Y/N” You simply said as you sat down, looking almost immediately to the computer screen open in newspapers that dated a couple years back. Murders in the same house all with the same time frame from each other. “I see you work even while you were supposed to be on your break, careful not to burn out Agent Page” You said, looking at his side profile. He seemed embarrassed as your sweet voice got to his ears and awkwardly laughed.

“You know…you don’t need to call me Agent Page, that is just an alias, call me Smith, Sam Smith. That’s Dean Wesson” He said. Huh, claiming aliases, smart move Winchester. “And yeah, I’ve been taking a look at the history of the place, apparently–”

“It’s timed killing” You finished. You scooted slightly closer, pointing your finger to the screen where the date of the newspaper was written at. “Every two years on the same date someone was brutally murdered in the house.”

“Yeah and inside the same room too” Dean pointed out. That you hadn’t noticed. A waiter coming to get your order interrupted the conversation you three were having to get your order. You quickly looked through the menu deciding to eat the quickest and most nutritious stuff there could be at a diner. You thanked the boy that took your order and he walked in long strides towards the kitchen. You came back to the talk you were having with the two brothers and Dean continued. “The master suite. And always couples, someone seems to hate true love” He joked.

“Apparently. Have any ideas for suspects yet?” You asked. If you were going to play pretend you might as well acquire some useful information with it. The boys shared a look between them that they thought you wouldn’t catch, but you weren’t FBI for no reason.

“None yet, still looking into it” Sam said, suddenly seeming on edge, shifting his placement on the booth. You were good at reading body language, it was one of the main qualities that got you in the FBI, interrogating criminals was easy exactly because they couldn’t lie. When you learned their behavior and played your way into their head it destroyed them because even if they were silent, even if they didn’t say anything, you knew what they were lying about – flinching when you mention a certain name or changing the leg they were crossing under the table when you named an address. So, Sam couldn’t hide from you earlier, imagine now that you were inches away.

“Really?” You asked, raising an eyebrow and turning your torso slightly more in his direction, leaning your elbow on the table. He was trapped. You thought about confronting them here, questioning them about their identity in public but you thought better – they definitely had guns on them and two beats one. Either way, you’d put him in a challenging situation, confronting him without even disagreeing verbally. He felt intimidated and now seemed unsure of his own conclusion – how you loved playing these games.

“I mean there’s barely any clues” He laughed nervously. “I was going to call you to see if you had any idea”

“I don’t either, as you said, no leads” You said. The waiter arrived with your food right then and you politely thanked him, drifting away from the conversation you were having with Sam as you started to eat. This time you weren’t paying attention and Dean questioned Sam with a look. What is she on? And the youngest shrugged. You swallowed your food with a pleasant hum, just now noticing how hungry you truly were. “I was thinking we could go to the morgue, if you haven’t already. Take a look at the bodies, see if we find anything”

You were purposefully playing right into their game, faking cluesness and at the same time taking advantage of their abilities to solve the case. It was more important to you to solve whatever was going on to bring peace back to this town than to arrest the brothers who were supposed to be dead. You’d learned that men tended to believe that you were stupid very easily, that you had no idea what you were doing and you started using that to have your way with them. With big doe eyes and feigned innocence you could get very far.

“That’s where we were going later actually. It’s good if you tag along” Sam tells you.

“I would even if you didn’t want me to” You said, joking, but not really. Your tone was humorous  but your smile was bitter. They didn’t seem to notice though and Sam even chuckled slightly at your sarcasm. You noticed the dimples in his cheeks and how boyish his smile was, full of bright white teeth and sincerity. You almost felt bad for being rude until you remembered they were killers – even if they didn’t look like it. Sam didn’t seem the type to brutally murder someone, Dean seemed too stupid to be able to get away with it for so many years, even faking his own death and walking around normally – you’d bet he was the one with the idea to put the name of famous rockstars as FBI aliases.

By the time the conversation was over, so was your food. You left enough money for the bill and a tip and stood up from the booth. “Okay, well, let’s go, we have a lot to do today boys” You said, adjusting your suit, unnecessarily dusting it off. You eyed Dean’s plate, the mess he made similar to how a child would eat. You would have laughed if you were in a more friendly situation. You looked at Sam and with a smile you said: “Don’t be late pretty boy, I’ll be waiting for you”

Then you turned around, politely nodded goodbye to Dean and started walking away, holding back a laugh. Sam stood still, stunned as he stared at you walked out the door, the bells above you ringing twice – one for when you pulled the door, the other after you let it smoothly close behind you. Dean was staring too, his bright green eyes filled with confusion. Once he turned to look at Sam he saw his younger brother completely zoned out, looking in the direction where you once were. He snapped his fingers in front of Sam’s face, who immediately looked at Dean.

“Pretty boy?” Dean questioned, holding back a smirk as Sam rolled his eyes.

“Dean…”

“She’s got you man. I get it, strong and intimidating women, I understand, I understand”

“That’s not it, she seems…off” Sam points out, looking at the door once more to make sure you wouldn’t come back and leaning closer to unnecessarily speak in a lower voice to Dean. “I think she might be an it, the monster we are looking for”

Dean raises an eyebrow. “Really? Why?”

“The way she’s acting is, I don’t know, weird”

“Look Sam I know you’re not used to having women hit on you but that doesn’t mean they are monsters” Dean teased, Sam gritted his teeth.

“Dean, I’m serious!”

“Okay, alright, we are going to investigate then” Dean said, raising his hands in fake surrender to his brother’s scolding. “But it doesn’t make sense to me. Didn’t we consider it to be a vengeful spirit?”

“Maybe, or maybe we are dealing with something completely different”

“Alright smart-ass, but if you’re wrong you owe me a six pack”

Sam scoffed but he wasn’t one to turn down any bet. He had thought your behavior was weird the moment you stepped foot in the diner. The questions you asked, the way you would constantly question his abilities, there was something going on and he could sense it. Besides, he liked betting with Dean, especially winning, so there was no way he wasn’t accepting his brother’s challenge.

“Deal” Sam said, hitting his palms against the table and standing up, ready to leave and go to the morgue. Dean followed his movements and stood up with a cheeky smile, taking out his wallet to pay for the food.

–

At the morgue, you waited about 5 minutes until they arrived. When they walked up to the entrance you were waiting at, Sam and Dean saw you in a much more serious state as you read through your notes and made annotations here and there. The noise of their footsteps made you look up and put your little notebook back in your pocket and place your pen behind your ear. You crossed your arms in front of your body and waited for them to get closer. Your heels were starting to hurt the bottom of your feet from standing too long in the same place and you were overwhelmed with different emotions – towards the men and yourself.

You weren’t necessarily scared of Sam and Dean, you were trained not to be, but it was never in your plans to be alone in a city with federal criminals, it would be downright ignorant not to be at least nervous with the situation. You were keeping yourself friendly without giving away any hint that you might know who they were, debating internally which would be the worst case: if you confronted them or stuck beside them for longer – what’s that say again? Friends close, enemies closer.

“Hey, Y/N” Sam called you and you turned your lips upwards in some-kind of a smile. He mirrored your expression and you caught his dimples again, your eyes wandering around his face. You broke the stare when Dean cleared his throat and, when you looked at him, he had his eyebrows furrowed, giving Sam a side-eye – more like a diagonal one, since, well, Sam was a big guy. In your own trance you hadn’t noticed how Sam was also looking at you like you were a beautiful piece of art – damn it, focus.

You also cleared your throat and that seemed to wake Sam up. “Hello Sam, Dean” You said, nodding to each “Shall we go inside? The longer we take the further the killer goes, come on” You turned your back to the and started walking inside the morgue. Dean waited until you walked further and held Sam by the elbow, making the youngest look at him in confusion.

“Stop that” Dean whisper-yelled.

“Stop what” Sam whispered back.

“Whatever your eyes are doing, I’m gonna puke if you keep that up”

Sam rolled his eyes. “You stop it, you’re reading too much into it”

“Hey, you are the one that said she might be dangerous and, honestly, you are kind of a monsterfu-”

“Dean!” Sam pushed his shoulder to shut him up.

“C’mon you were hypnotized, maybe that’s what she does, or you are just in love” Dean shrugged his shoulders, holding back a grin. He loved making Sam mad.

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Let’s go now or do you have any other stupid remarks?” Sam didn’t wait for an answer as he followed the direction you went in. Dean mocked his brother, mimicking Sam’s words to himself in a high pitched tone and went along.

You were already putting your gloves on when they came into the room, the dead bodies laying before you - or at least what was left of them. The lower part of the couple’s bodies was covered beneath the pale blue blankets and both torsos were exposed. It was an awful sight and, if you were about ten years younger, you would’ve puked. Everything was dilacerated, they were practically disfigured, their faces barely recognizable. Huge gashes adorned their bodies that even cleaned up still looked absolutely vile. Behind you, Dean hissed.

“Wow” He exclaimed.

“Yeah, very brutal, whoever did this wanted them to feel the pain” You said, snapping the latex gloves against your wrist and grabbing the file about the autopsy in your hands. You skimmed through the words and placed it back on the table where it previously was, turning back to the bodies to see Sam already looking through them, Dean putting on the blue gloves the mortuary offered. You approached Sam’s side and crossed your arms as you watched him work, his hands roaming through the deep rips on the skin, he seemed to come to the same conclusion you did. “It’s not a clean cut, see” You pointed out and he nodded, turning to you.

“Yeah, the skin is–”

“Ripped, not cut” You paused “How can someone do this and just…get on with their lives?” You thought out loud. You discreetly looked up to Sam’s face to see if he had any reaction to your words, to see if his face faltered when you mentioned how psychotic it would be to keep going after killing someone, to see something, anything…

His face was blank.

“You’d be shocked at what…people can do” Sam replied. He seemed to hesitate before saying ‘people’, a hard swallow, a thought behind his eyes and you marked that in your mind for later.

“Sam, I work in the FBI too you know, I’ve seen shit” Maybe you were harsh, maybe you were just defensive or maybe the years of being brought down by men in your field made you snap at his words when they weren’t that deep. He seemed to catch on to your aggressiveness and stumbled over his words to try and reword his phrase.

“No– I-I know it’s just– I mean–” He couldn’t get the words out. You softened at that, noticing your defensiveness was, in fact, exaggerated. You chuckled at him and waved your hand dismissively.

“I get what you meant” You said and he seemed to calm down, giving you a slight smile. Dimples. Again. You turned back to the bodies in front of you and reached for your pocket to get your notes. You started patting with your other hand for your pen through the other pockets and when you didn’t feel the distinctively cylindrical shape of the object you started to freak out. Where’d I leave it…

Sam noticed your squirming and when he saw the notebook in your hand he knew exactly what you were looking for. He held back a chuckle as he watched you try your hardest to remember where the pen was, the concentration in your eyes almost touchable.

“Hey” Sam called and you turned your head to him. He reached his hand up, close to your cheek and you could sense the heat radiating from his body. You froze in place as you thought that you were caught, that Sam’s intelligence overpowered yours and he figured out that you knew who he was. Well, you were wrong. Sam caught the pen you had put behind your ear between his fingers and slid it off of it, watching as your hair fell back into place. You wanted to bury yourself whole inside the ground as you felt heat spread through your face. “Here” He said, with a cheeky smile.

You took the pen out of his hand, your fingers brushing lightly against each other “Thanks” You mumbled. You started writing away what you figured from the autopsy but you couldn’t get your mind off of how close Sam had gotten. The warmth that he emitted was captivating, comforting even. How could you even think that? You were a professional, what the hell! You shouldn’t be feeling this way, you had a job to do, lives to save. Sam was a killer, you put killers in jail. That’s it.

“Okay so…” Dean spoke up, breaking your embarrassment “...We can discard any murder with weapons like guns or knives, those can’t do…this” He made a face and pointed towards the wounds. You nodded in agreement as you wrote it down. When you looked up at them again they were sharing a look, having a full conversation without even speaking. You weren’t a professional in facial expressions but you could read the room, you were being kept in the dark about something. You decided against confronting them, unneeded drama in the current settings because, indeed, the longer you took to solve this case, the closer the killer was to killing other people.

“So, I have no idea if you already did but I didn’t look further in the room where the murder happened. I think I’m going to go back to the house and see if the local cops missed anything” You said, not waiting for an answer as you pocketed your notebook again and started taking off your gloves. You didn’t request their company as you were, first, still trying to figure out why they were so adamant about solving this case, second, you had to figure this murder out, and third, you needed to find a perfect moment to confront both of them. “See you around agents”

“See ya” Dean waved at you as you walked away, Sam didn’t say anything. You knew they were going to follow you, you felt their silent conversations lingering in the air as you left the room, discarding your gloves. In your head you could see them communicating with lifting eyebrows and shrugging shoulders – they were so obvious; and predictable.

–

“We are going after her” Sam said to Dean after he heard you leave. Dean nodded as he started taking off his own gloves, side eyeing his brother. Dean wasn’t stupid – he only acted like it – he knew that there was more than one reason for Sam’s eagerness to follow you.

“So…” He started and Sam knew there was something he might not like hearing coming. “Are you going to play the brave soldier saving the damsel in distress?”

Sam stopped and looked at Dean, absolute confusion adorning his features. “What?”

“Man c’mon, you can’t be thinking that she is the monster now can you? Look, I did the tests while you were…pining over her” Sam opened his mouth to argue but Dean didn’t let him speak. “There was holy water in her drink at the diner, the utensils she was using were pure silver…”

Sam was shocked that his brother thought that quickly, he didn’t even notice…Okay, maybe he was infatuated by you a little too much.

“She could be a ghoul,” Sam argued as a last resort.

“Already looked her up, no one that has that beautiful face has died around here. I’ve looked through the FBI database too, she’s there” Dean said. Sam would be lying if he said he didn’t feel the tiniest bit of relief knowing that you were really human. You were, in fact, beautiful, stunning even. Maybe Dean was right, maybe he did like you, a lot.

“Guess I owe you that six pack then” Sam said.

“Hey, I get the six pack, you get the girl, seems like a fair trade” Dean said, raising his eyebrows tauntingly with a cheeky smile on his face. Sam chuckled and shook his head.

“Either way, we have to go after her because if this ghost decides she’s next on its list, we need to get there before she gets hurt” Sam said in all seriousness as he started walking out of the room, going towards the exit. Dean followed suit, the Impala keys already on his hand.

–

They arrived at the house a minute or two after you. You were waiting in the house’s living room as you heard the rumbling of the old car’s engine. You had your weapon ready and loaded as you heard them open and close the door of the house. As soon as they turned the corner, you lifted your gun.

“Stay right fucking there! Don’t you dare move or else I’ll actually kill you, for good this time!” You screamed at them, gun in hand pointed towards Dean’s head. They widened their eyes and stopped all their movement. Sam opened his mouth to try and talk and you shifted the gun to point at him instead. He shut his mouth again and you saw his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed nervously. You were fuming, anger making your hands shake lightly.

“Did you really think you were going to fool me? Who do you think you are– Better, who do you think I am?” They stood as still as a rock. “Sam and Dean Winchester” You said their names, venom running through your tongue as you did, your gun pointing respectively at each. “You better start talking or I’m popping your heads off, speak!”

“Okay, okay, look we can explain” Sam started.

“You fucking better”

“We are not dead” He said and you looked at him like he was stupid. “Me and my brother we faked our deaths but we had a reason, a much bigger reason”

“You killed people”

“We didn’t, at least not intentionally, we do the exact opposite, we save people Y/N”

“How? The deaths are there, if you are telling me the truth and really save people you do a terrible job at that” You countered. You admitted you only said this to get under their skin because if anyone knew that saving everyone was impossible was you, a federal agent.

“Put the gun down and we can talk” Dean spoke up, talking to you calmly and moving his hands slowly to try and reason with you. You were reluctant but something in their eyes, their actions towards you didn’t indicate any imminent danger. Maybe you were being stupid and, at the end, you’d be lying in a ditch, lifeless, left there to rot but you wanted to give them a chance.

“If you try anything funny I’ll claw your eyes out with my bare hands” You said and Dean, even shocked, nodded slowly – you were exaggerating but you felt the need to. You sighed and put your gun back in the waistband of your pants and saw the boys breathe in a deep breath of relief.

Sam and Dean exchanged those looks again and finally looked at you. Sam was the one you wanted to talk to, you felt deep, deep down that he was going to tell you the truth and that he was actually a good guy, that all that he did until now wasn’t just an act and he was really nice.

“Me and Dean we…We hunt monsters”

Well, now your hopes are shattered. What the fuck.

You just looked at him like he was clinically insane and waited for him to continue.

“I know it sounds crazy” Because it is “And it probably is but it’s the truth, we don’t think whatever killed that couple was a human, this is why there’s no DNA, not a single clue and why the case is hard. I assume you were assigned it because you are smart and a good agent but this is not your kind of case”

“It’s ours” Dean added and Sam agreed with a nod.

You were dumbfounded. They sounded so serious as they explained to you about the tons of different supernatural beings that existed, things you only ever heard of in fictional books and horror movies. Halfway through the talk you looked physically sick, your face pale and eyes dissociated completely and Sam quickly got a chair, ushering you to sit down. He was looking at you with such a guilty expression, like he felt bad for lying to you.

Once they stopped talking you spent a good five minutes absorbing it all as you stared at your hands folded over your lap. You thought you knew things, you thought you could solve everything, that all you needed to do was analyze everything to its minute details and you’d find a solution. Truth is, you were completely oblivious all this long, so many things that you had no idea existed causing trouble around the world, things worse than humans could ever be. You were an idiot.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Sam asked after a while, making you look up at him. “I know it’s a lot to process…” He said, carefully laying a hand over your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you.

“I’m going to be fine” You said harshly. Sam felt the slight disappointment in your voice and frowned as he looked down at you. He had seen tons of different reactions to ‘the talk’ but this one was one of the worst, where the person feels upset with themselves for not knowing about this sooner, the kind of reaction he saw mostly on authority figures such as cops and federal agents like yourself.

You stood up and his hand fell from your shoulder. You needed to make this right, paranormal or not, this was still your case and you were solving it one way or another.

“Show me how you do it” You said, turning to look at Sam. The phrase got Dean’s attention as well as a sudden tension fell upon the room. Sam looked at you with confusion “This case is still mine, I want to learn how to get rid of…whatever killed that couple”

Sam exchanged looks with his brother. “I don’t think this is a good idea Y/N, you can get hurt” He said. You rolled your eyes and stepped closer to him, less than a foot between the two of you.

“How many times do I have to tell you, I’m a federal agent, you don’t get to tell me I’m going to get hurt when I literally hunt and kill people if needed” You said angrily pointing your finger at him accusingly “Your little Ghostbusters roleplay doesn’t scare me”

“Okay, can you two stop? Let’s get out of here and go study about the house to see if we find anything about someone who died here who might want revenge” Dean said, approaching and looking between the two of you. “Please”

–

After spending two hours in the nearby library you finally found something. The one responsible for the killings was someone named Alicia Meadows who died in the late 60s, not little kids – it seemed like even the own urban legend the locals passed around was wrong. She was a woman who lived in that house with her husband and kids. One night she found her husband in their bed with another woman and went crazy, killing them both with a shotgun and then shooting herself. Ever since then she’d been killing couples who stayed there, the trauma of the cheating made her assume that everyone who laid in that bed on the same date, every two years, she found her husband and his mistress was also having an affair.

You three soon found out where she was buried and, after the brothers explained to you and made you swear not to arrest them for grave violation, you were driving to the cemetery.

As Dean was digging up the casket you stood beside Sam. “Do you guys do this everyday?”

Sam looked at you with a smile. “No, sometimes we behead vampires too”

You looked at him wide eyed and chuckled. He laughed with you, his face looking ten times more beautiful under the moonlight and the fucking dimples, the damn dimples. Silence fell between you as the sounds of the night – and Dean’s digging – took over. You wanted to talk more, you wanted to know more about Sam because the little you thought you knew was actually a lie. He was nice and, according to the FBI files…

“You went to law school?” You asked him. He sighed. Well damn Y/N so much for breaking the ice, good job. 

“I did but…I went back to hunting soon after, you can’t run from this type of job you know?” He chuckled dryly. It was clear that was a sensitive subject for him to talk about.

“If it helps, you would’ve made a good lawyer” You smiled at him. “Besides, you look great in a suit”

He seemed stunned for a few seconds, were you flirting with him? He didn’t get to figure out because Dean made a dramatic pained sound as he straightened his back, breaking the casket open. The putrid smell of death rose and you scrunch your nose. Sam helped Dean get out of the hole and started showering the bones in alcohol and salt and you watched as Dean threw his lighter in making huge flames rise up. You jumped when it happened out of shock and Sam held your shoulders so you wouldn’t fall back, the flames roared loudly with what seemed to be the anger of the woman.

Dean started gathering their stuff and you turned to Sam. “So, is this it?”

“Yeah…pretty simple actually” Sam shrugged. He looked at the fire and you could see the flames dancing in his eyes. You found Sam handsome ever since you laid your eyes on him but now, after a whole day by his side, the light touches you shared throughout the day and the care he showed towards you you wondered if it’d be too bad if you kissed him right now.

“Sam” You called him lowly and he turned to you. You stepped closer and you could see his hands clenching and unclenching by his side, as if he was holding back the urge to touch you. Your faces were inches apart and you could now see every little detail about him. The light stubble that adorned his face and the blush of red in his cheeks that you didn’t know if it was because of the heat of the fire or because you were this close.

You smiled at him and in that moment Sam couldn’t hold himself back. He closed the distance between the two of you as one of his hands cradled your cheek and the other was gently placed on your waist.

You let one of your hands place itself on his neck as you reciprocated the kiss. It was electric and warm, his soft lips over yours felt like a sweetness you didn’t know you were craving to taste. Your heart was beating fast and Sam slowly dragged your body closer to his with the help of the hand he placed on your waist.

When you pulled away you slowly opened your eyes to look straight into his and let out a stupid giggle – like a teenager after kissing her crush. Sam chuckled back as his thumb caressed your cheek lovingly.

“I've wanted to do this ever since the diner” He admitted and you bit back a smile.

“Really?” You asked.

“Really”

The moment was interrupted when Dean honked the Impala, impatiently waiting for you two to finish whatever you were doing so he could go back to the room and finally sleep. Sam showed him the finger as Dean yelled a curse back making you laugh at their stupid teasing.

“Let’s go Sam, Dean’s impatient. We can finish our talk at the motel” You said, your words full of innuendo making Sam turn back to you. You knew you got him when you felt his hand squeeze your waist for a moment before letting go.

“Oh yeah?” He said with a grin, looking down at your mouth and back at your eyes. You nodded.

“Yeah”

A/N: Likes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing, feedback makes those writings better. Thank you for reading XoXo

[marypaol]

Glistening White

Draco Malfoy x fem!reader

Summary: Draco invites Reader to a party, something she’d never think of herself being at. But soon she gets drunk and things take a turn.

Warnings: Drinking underage, people being drunk, party behavior, tension. I think that’s all???

Note: Thank you so much for requesting! I hope you enjoy it, I think it was a lovely idea. :)

Note #2: This is the first time in making an exception when it comes to my requirements, I want it to be my last, but we’ll see how future requests go.

This is to the wonderful @wenclairwednesday! I hope you liked it, and I’m sorry in advance for the not-so-happy ending. Hehe.

Masterlist

“No.”

A dark chuckle was heard in response, and, turning to the boy next to her, sees his eyes roll back in soft annoyance.

“It’s better than staying here in this gothic room. It’s lonely.” He said, eyes moving to the ceiling to emphasize his point. It did seem a little dark, but it couldn’t help it when the sun went down, revealing the darkness of the emerald green that surrounded the room.

She took her turn to roll her eyes. “It’s not lonely.” She stated, a small pout showing on her lips. “Besides, there’s that Charms essay I have to finish.”

Draco had a small smile on the corner of his mouth, blinking soft showing his tiredness but she bet he would still be awake enough to go the party he so wanted to go to.

“You and your bloody homework. Just copy off me tomorrow at breakfast.”

She scolded immediately. “No, Draco! Professor Flitwick-”

“I was joking, loves.” He laughed at the look on her face, desperate to do her own work and not copy another student’s.

��My answer is still no.” she said bluntly, grabbing another chuckle from him as she looked back down at the book she had her hands, a sign the conversation was over.

“But Crabbe and Goyle don’t want to.” He decided to point out, head bending down to meet her eyes under her eyelashes. She spared a glance at him before looking back at the pages.

“So?” She asked plainly and ridiculously. He groaned soft.

“So, I’ll have no one to annoy.” He replied, smirking when she glared at him, lips in a thin line. “And I want you there.” He added quietly. Her eyes softened upon the sight of him now, no longer trying to send daggers out of her pupils.

“Really?” She said, hesitant at his act he was potentially putting on. He nodded, locks bouncing.

She sighed, snatching the bookmark he was fiddling with and marking her page. “Fine, but if you do one stupid thing, I’m out of there. Hear me?”

He grinned. “Crystal.”

“I hate it here.”

The soft emerald light blared the room, lighting it up in the best way. It lit her up in the best way, Draco’s eyes scanning down her face every chance he got.

The room was full of people, music pounding the floors and walls, giving the space a heartbeat.

He chuckled nonetheless. “We just got here.”

She nodded, painted lips pursed. “Yeah, and I’ve already decided that I hate it here.”

“Can’t turn back now,” Draco pointed out, grinning. “I haven’t done anything stupid yet.”

He was rewarded another glare, dark eyes framed around long black lashes, making them easier to get caught into.

“I’m getting a drink.” She mumbled, desperate to try to calm herself down, and Draco could tell. She was biting her lip, chewing the flesh gently between her teeth, having no idea how much her anxiety habits affected him. Draco quickly sat down on a nearby sofa, squirming to find a comfortable position.

She soon came back, her body moving like liquid in a glass throughout the room, gliding to him with little to no effort.

Her stained lips were no longer displaying a nervous look, but a smiley one. Her teeth were showing, flashing him with happiness he didn’t know he could feel.

“This is good!” She blurted, mouth around a glass rim of a glass, throat bobbing as she took in the liquid, sitting down next to him, their legs brushing. The fabric of her dress was smooth like silk, and if only he could feel it through his slacks. His available hand though crossed across his lap, now fidgeting with the material, oily between his finger tips.

Draco laughed at her outburst, other arm that wasn’t touching her dress’ material on top of the couch, hand coming in contact with her hair strands, pushing it out of the way so he could see her sparkling eyes. He was seeing a new side of her, normally used to seeing her snappy and stubborn, quiet and stern when it came to school work. Now she was giggly and courageous, already springing up to get another glass after she heard his response.

She came back for the second time, this time sitting back, her spine against the armrest of the sofa, toned legs coming up to rest on his lap. She sat pretty close to him, so her knees were on top of his, and if she leaned only a little forward he would be able to feel her breath on his cheek. His hands subconsciously moved to her legs, fingers stroking the soft skin there. He didn’t even take a single sip of Fire Whiskey and he was already drunk on her.

Her gaze was on him, eyes forcing him to look back at her. His silver eyes met hers, chest twisting in the most perfect way possible, enough to make a rush of unknown emotions flood his senses.

Her arm stretched out to put her glass on the table next to the sofa, but his eyes didn’t dare to move from her face.

Once the glass was discarded, her butt moved forward on the couch, eyes not moving from his. A invisible string tired their eyes together, neither of them being able to look away. She slowly sat up, on her knees now, and Draco found himself following her movements with his sight, not wanting to miss a single thing.

Her right leg swung over his lap, now strangling him. Draco sucked in a sharp breath, welcoming her in by doing so, hands practically shooting to her waist, stroking her dress fabric. She grinned, eyes clearly no longer looking at his eyes, but at his flushed mouth.

She lent forward, lips coming to his left ear, flesh touching the skin briefly; Draco felt a spark of warmth and excitement roll down his back, then shooting back up to meet his heart.

“Kiss me?”

Draco sucked in another breath at the request, sharper than last time, this time holding it. His back shot from the couch, chest meeting hers, and he felt the heat from her skin vibrating against him.

She said it so innocently, like she had no idea what she was doing to him. She didn’t demand it, or order him to do it, she asked. And for some reason the innocence in her tone made Draco flush so much more.

She leaned back from his ear, eyes twinkling like a star in the night, but they were so full of want as she looked at him that it made him buff out the breath he was holding, right in her face, hair blowing against her cheeks. He looked at her, straight in the eyes with such tension he felt like there was a block of butter in between them, so thick and tense he could take a knife and glide right hrough it.

He swallowed, just then realizing how dry his throat was. He wasn’t one to get nervous, not to mention flustered, but here he was, melting like frozen water in a hot place.

“W-we- I mean, I-I can’t.” He sputtered, voice soft and shaky, and her eyebrows raised in question. Her hands went to his hair, pure white strands tangling themselves in her fingertips, softly scratching at his head, and Draco couldn’t stop his eyes moving to the back of his head, tipping back until he felt his hair touch the back of the couch. He composed himself despite the continuous sensation, making eye contact with her once again. It was only then did he see the soft motion of her bottom lip jointed out, making it look bigger in size. She was pouting.

“Why not?” She asked again, hands moving from his hair to the front of his suit he slipped on, rubbing at the collar, dangerously close to his neck.

He held his breath again for a good few seconds before breathing through his nose.

“Y-you’re drunk.” He reminded simply, swallowing again when she scanned face, stopping at his lips. She kicked her own before meeting his gaze with her eyes, innocence shining within them.

“No I’m not.” She protested softly.

“Yeah, you are.” Draco managed to speak firmly this time, despite his never ending efforts in his prior responses. She simply shook her head, leaning forward until their noses brushed, the innocent skin to skin touch was breaking the way through his chest, straight to his heart, making him feel something he didn’t normally feel; her lips were so close to his-

He broke away.

He shoved her off his lap, a soft gasp escaping the very lips he was so close to touching, the silk of her dress gone from his very fingertips.

His hands brushed the skin of her arm when it flew up, but he was quick to make the touch a brush in the first place.

Those hands went up and buried themselves in his hair, cheeks flaming as his feet began to make a massive effort to leave, but not until a hand held him back.

“Wait! I’m sorry.”

Her voice.

He turned to look at her, his eyes now surprisingly blurry from the extremely unwanted tears threatening to spill, but he couldn’t dare to let them do so.

She looked sobered up enough, the harsh shove she didn’t deserve snapping her out of the daydream she was in. Her eyes too were glossy but not from tears, but from drinking. Well, to be literal, Draco didn’t know the real reason for her blurry eyes but he didn’t want to admit she was in the same condition as he was.

“J-just stop. I don’t need that right now.” He spat, surprising both of them at his outburst that was way out of expectation.

“Need what, exactly?” She tried to pry, her stained lips quivering and his chest squeezed at the very sight.

“Your pity, that’s what.” He replied quite sharply, and he hardly ripped his hand out of her grip, a not so satisfying sting buzzing his skin at the action.

Her eyes broke, displaying the deep feelings that were flooding in her chest. He always found her eyes so expressive compared to his, his being so cold and empty, while hers were so full and lovely, just like her.

And unlike him.

So he left the room, quite quickly, leaving her broken eyes, silky dress, and the glistening white of her heart behind.

[lovelykil]

hiii ! I hope you're doing fanstasitic! I was wondering if I could request midoriya with a reader with a vampire quirk? like drinks blood and everything but is like okayyyyy with the sun... thwnk hiu!!

headcanons─

ᯓ izuku midoriya

hc; reader with a vampire quirk

note; hey this quirk is similar to my bsfs oc 🦭

ᡣ𐭩 he's never seen a quirk quite like yours well if you leave out toga,, so he definitely has written about you in his little nerdy notebook

ᡣ𐭩 he'll ask a bunch of questions !! Get ready to be interrogated by him..

“wait, so how exactly does your quirk work?”

“well I—”

“vampires they require blood don't they? For you, is it a specific kind of blood you need to consume?”

“uhm—”

“are you affected by the sunlight??”

“we're literally outside.”

“oh. Well, I can cross that out. Anyway—”

ᡣ𐭩 if you have some exotic-looking costume that resembles these mystical creatures, he's so fascinated with it ! But he won't tell you that. He's too nervous. The best thing you're gonna get from this is a nervous mumble,

“you.. look so cool..”

“huh?” you turn toward him.

“AH! u-uhm I said— you look really cool!”

ᡣ𐭩 back to that sun thing, when meeting you the first time, you told him about your quirk.. you guys were walking out of the school building still in deep conversation. But once you stepped away from the shade something inside his brain went off like a alarm.

ᡣ𐭩 vampires + sun = DEATH !!

ᡣ𐭩 he quickly shoves you back into the shade mid-conversation with a cry, “THE SUN!! ARE YOU OKAY?” You had to process what the hell just happened, why did this asshole just push you and start worrying his ass off?

oh, oh yeah. Your quirk..

ᡣ𐭩 you laugh at his concerned state while he stands and watches you, puzzled. Once you calmed down you explained.

“I appreciate your concern, but I'm actually immune to the heat.. for some reason.”

“... you could've said that sooner!”

ᡣ𐭩 he thinks your fangs are really cool looking as well , but honestly gets terrified when you viciously attack meat like a wild animal. He sees the stream of that dark crimson-red blood drip down your chin and when you look over at him and smile revealing even MORE blood over your sharp teeth he passes out

ᡣ𐭩 not from the blood but from how insane you look lmao

ᡣ𐭩 now, you actually do need blood to survive. You find it embarrassing to ask any of your friends which includes izuku so you usually feed off wild animals or villains you fight off. But one day you were extremely exhausted to hunt out for your nutrition,

so you turned to a familiar face who so happened to be roaming in the dorm halls.

ᡣ𐭩 you walk over to him sluggish like and grab his hand.

“Izuku, I need you.” okay maybe you shouldn't have been so vague?? Cause now he's blushing.

“w-what?!” he mutters out, his nervous eyes meeting yours. But it doesn't take him long to understand what you meant. He observes your weak body, your skin paler than its usual color, eyes sunken in from weariness, and your body rocking back and forth slightly. You were famished, you desperately needed some blood before you passed out.

izuku simply nods and takes you somewhere secluded so nobody will cause a fuss when they see you two. Plus he assumed you wanted that as well, sucking someone's blood is kinda crazy to watch.

you two end up in his dorm. He slowly closes his door and turns around, he's nervous yes but if this is what's needed to help a friend he won't back down. He looks at you and speaks,

“uhm so how should we—”

you're quick with your movements, already pinning him to the door as you breathe heavily. His eyes bulge, a blush creeping over his freckled face. He tries to speak again but gets cut off by your pleading eyes staring up at his.

“izuku please just stop talking... I can't think.. I just need.. blood.” you linger around his neck, he can feel your hot breath against his warm skin which causes him to shudder and feel an electrifying sensation slide down his spine.

he swallows hard and tilts his neck for you, “r-right.. sorry.” it feels like a lifetime but it only lasted maybe a minute when you drained some of his tasty blood out of him. Your hands rested on his shoulder to get a good grip when you finally sunk your teeth into his flesh. He hadn't realized he actually gripped your waist from the pain, his eyes sealing shut when he let out a low groan. In the moment, you didn't care, you were distracted by his blood.

but once you were satisfied you pulled away and licked your lips, still holding his shoulders. He fluttered his eyes back open and slowly looked at you, again, still with his hands on your waist. It takes 2 seconds before the both of you release each other with a loud and EMBARRASSED blush on your face.

after this, you two never mentioned this interaction with anyone. If someone pointed out that bite mark on Izuku he would come up with some excuse, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. While you kept quiet and blushed to yourself.

mina definitely knows, you can't fool her.

[andromeda-nova-writing]

“What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?”

Fem!Reader Words: 1742

AN: Is it a sequel to the last fic or a request from @isekyaaa? It's both! I hope I've done the prompt justice for you

Y/N’s classroom was silent as she shuffled papers around trying to clean up what was now a shared classroom. To say it was her classroom wasn’t a good way to describe the room. It was a room that she had been thrown into over a month ago on the other side of the campus. The classroom was cramped, lights would flicker in and out, and the heat would never kick in. It felt as if the university just wanted her to quit. Had her rightful complaints of poor treatment got her into this? Or maybe it was the fact she wasn't afraid to critique their golden boy? 

At least she had already completed her final class of the day and with no meetings, all that was left to do was to go home. Hopefully, the next teacher here will be satisfied with her cleaning. With the knock on the door, she assumed that was who had shown up.

“I’ll be just a minute. I’m almost done in here.” Y/N placed the last of the papers within her bag, eyes not even making contact with the door frame. “I just have to clean the whiteboard.”

There was a man’s sigh followed by footsteps and a binder landing in front of her on the desk where she sat. It was a plain purple that felt way too familiar. Looking up at its owner she shouldn’t have been surprised. “What do you want Ratio?” Her question came off in a mix of annoyance, tiredness, and ready for a fight.

“Open it.”

“Your hands work.”

“Will you just open the binder?” A question that sounded more like a demand

She rolled her eyes before doing what she had been asked. There was no sense in fighting every little thing. Looking at the paper on top, it was just a simple list of grades over time. There were two sections highlighted about a month apart from each other with a noticeable improvement. It was small but clear to see. “It's a start at least. Is this all you have to show me?”

He flipped to the next page. It was the start of a thesis for what he must have been currently working on. The page was covered in red ink of his handwriting over the text he had printed out. It had been a bit odd to see knowing how much he had preferred to work in digital. He had on plenty of occasions spoken a snide comment to her about how he did not need to leave to grab a notebook and that he had access to everything he needed at all times. There were too many times when he had given her a side eye even on just running out of ink.

“You do know I’m in an entirely different field of study than anything you’ve done? I’m not sure if you really want me to read this over. It may be best to find someone else.” She closed the binder, rejecting his request before getting up to clean the whiteboard behind her. “I teach art history. I’m doing a fashion history course at the moment!” She emphasized as began to wipe down the whiteboard, clearing it of a few things that had been required for her students to take note of. 

“You are able to not hold back on giving critiques which is a skill in itself.” One that others at the university he found were lacking. “I do not require someone who has a similar knowledge as me. It’s harder to understand where my writing doesn’t make sense when someone has an easier time following along with the subject matter.”

Y/N dropped the cloth in her hands, turning around. “That is not the compliment you think it is!”

“And it wasn't an insult either!” He pinched his nose in an attempt to remain calm. “It's a rough draft. There are still things I would like to add but I want you to read through it first.”

She leaned against the clean side of the whiteboard that was behind her. “It would be better to find someone else to read through it. What part of that do you not understand?”

“What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?” He had said it louder than he had meant to, emotions taking over for a brief moment. Perhaps the same emotions that had derailed his train of logic led him to even ask her for this favor.

“The part where you are the one who is saying it. I’m bound to say something that will start a debate and derail your work. Or better yet I help you only end up teaching in a closet next.”

“You act as if I am the one who put you in here.”

“I do not.”

“Yes, you do. You even yelled at me over this a month ago.”

“I wasn't yelling.” 

He had crossed his arms giving her a side eye.

“You are misremembering. I was annoyed yes but yelling no.” 

“If you can remember that you can remember your own actions then. You waltzed in and blamed me for the actions of people higher up than me.”

“I,” she sighed remembering back on it more, “I did do that didn’t I? To be fair, your lack of teaching skills left me in a room where I feel like I'm going to turn into an ice cube. How are you even standing in here without shivering?” Y/N asked as she looked over the more revealing aspects of his attire. 

He shook his head at the lack of an apology. “They do keep most of the servers within this building. That's still no excuse for why this room is so cold.”

“Every time I ask about it I'm told either the heat is out or that it's on low. I was told it was going to be fixed but I’m pretty sure that was a lie now. Most of my students started bringing blankets to class with them. They are just recording the lecture instead of taking notes and I can tell they aren’t going back to listen to it cause the grades are just dropping now.” Y/N complained with defeat just washing over her. 

“Have you made it known that these changes are affecting your class?” He asked the obvious as if she couldn’t think of it herself.

“They will make changes off of things you say because the complaints come from you. Your name carries weight. No matter how correct I am, because I even dare to point out a flaw of yours I am to be ignored and tossed aside so as to not ruin what your name brings to this place.” Her eyes drifted to the floor. “I’m clearly being punished. If I speak about what is going on anymore who knows what I may lose next? The arts remain to be disrespected even when used to teach about the history of different worlds. I must face the fact that I am not wanted.” It hurt a bit to admit it allowed. This had been a dream job of hers and it felt horrible to see it ripped from her over a lack of general respect from those above her.

“I want you.” He repeated once more with softness and desperation leaking into his voice. “As annoying as your critiques can be, listening to them has forced me to take a look at myself and bring improvement. Trying to improve myself without the input of another only works for so long. I’ve seemed to have forgotten that.” Perhaps he had grown too similar to some of those who worked here in that aspect. The distance between them was breaking as he moved closer into her space. 

Her laughter filled the small space between the two of them. One that was genuine, not filled with their usual sarcasm and jabs back and forth. “Are you hiding a literature degree there? I've never heard anyone beg for a critique like this before.” She teased.

“It’s not begging. I am just asking what I know you are capable of. You would have given your thoughts without me asking, wouldn’t it be better to invite those thoughts instead?” 

“I suppose it would but I'm not quite sure about it still. My critiques of you haven't ended well for me. What's to say this time would be different?”

“I believe I have met your requirements to discuss what is considered life-changing once more.” The grades rising just by points didn’t meet what she had asked of him and yet it was enough to take his advances seriously. 

“I wasn’t sure you would follow through on what I asked of you. Have you found a definition or have you found a different example?” She looked up at him, it took everything to not lose herself in how he was staring at her. His eyes tethered to her lips watching every movement. Part of her wished he would go through with the example she had put a stop to last time.

“It would seem that day in the library was example enough for me. The memory won’t quiet in my mind.”

“Perchance have you put that brain of yours to work figuring out what would quiet it?”

“It is less a matter for my brain to solve.”

“But you have found a solution?” Her eyes kept darting between his normally cold eyes and his lips which appeared so inviting. Maybe if she had paid more attention last time she would have noticed that before.

“I have.”

“I must ask, do you want me for a critique or do you want me?”

“If it’s both?”

“Then I would implore you to show me what you considered life-changing that day. It may persuade me to say yes.”

It was only a matter of mere seconds before Y/N found herself kissing the man she had been blaming for some of her issues with this university. However, she mostly laid the blame for those issues starting with his teaching style, but it was hard to focus on his flaws when he was being so loving at the moment.

Was it loving or more an act of desperation? Something that she would decide later as for now it was quite enjoyable being pinned against a whiteboard making out with a man she could have sworn was just a thorn in her side.

[demonpiratehuntress]

Hii this might be an odd request. Feel free to ignore this if you don't like to write.

You know, straw hats have doctor, cook, swardsman, navigator,... Can you add another one who do mathematical, physics and chemistry stuff? If you can please make her a female.

She is not a genius. More like an average person. But she tries so hard. Sometime get lazy and unproductive too.

And if you can please make it a Ace x reader fic.

Thank you.

sure thing! :) it's not very long, because I don't know what else they can do in terms of those things, but i hope you still enjoy it! sorry for the wait!

taglist - @kabloswrld

someone's gotta do it

Portgas D. Ace x F!Reader

summary - the ask above

warnings - none

The Straw Hat crew wasn't very big, but it was certainly diverse. You guys had everything ranging from a navigator to a musician, so there were a lot of areas of expertise that were covered. All except for three, you supposed, which was constantly the downfall of the crew in certain situations.

A mathematician was needed, a chemist was needed and a physicist was needed.

You weren't exactly an expert in any of those areas, but you were doing your best to try and make up for those losses. You were doing your best to fill in those roles where absolutely necessary, so it wouldn't cost the crew as much anymore.

You had lots of duties to fill in these areas. You studied the log pose to determine exactly how it worked, marveling at the discovery of geomagnetism and excitedly explaining to the crew how it worked. This helped to better understand navigation in the Grand Line, and you felt useful providing that knowledge.

These duties also included setting a budget for the crew's spending on groceries and necessities, as you had to add up and subtract things you needed and things you didn't. Sometimes it was a hassle, because Luffy kept trying to add things that you absolutely did not need or even want.

"But it looks cool!"

"Luffy! Do you know how far that'll set us back in terms of berries!" You cried in exasperation, knocking your captain on the head. Oh no, you were starting to sound like Nami.

Speaking of Nami, you could also help her with her charts and her navigation. With mathematics, you could assist in charting courses that you've been on, and calculate the exact speed and distance the Sunny would require to get to certain places or away from danger. It was quite useful for that, as you could also determine how long it would take to get to a certain destination. Well, to the best of your ability seeing as this was the Grand Line after all.

"She's new."

An unfamiliar voice met your ears when you stepped out of your room to find the others out on deck, surrounding an unfamiliar man. He looked a bit like Luffy, but with freckles on his cheeks and a cowboy hat on his head.

That and he was shirtless.

You tried your hardest not to stare, blushing madly as you immediately thought that this was a really attractive man. You didn't know who he was, but you were attracted to him.

"Our mathem-mathe-maps?" Luffy tried, unable to pronounce the word.

You giggled and stepped forward, holding out your hand, "I'm (Name), the newest member. I do all the mathematics, physics and chemistry around here. Or, at least, I try my best."

The man grinned and shook your hand, "Nice to meet you! I'm Ace, Luffy's brother."

Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped, "Luffy's...brother?!"

Ace didn't seem offended, instead he laughed at your reaction, "Yeah, we get that a lot." He got Luffy in a headlock and ruffled his hair. "It's always hard to believe this little idiot is my younger brother, since I'm so charming and intelligent."

You giggled at his words, then even more so when the crew all disagreed with the second trait he mentioned.

Ace stuck around for a few days, wanting to spend some time with his little brother now that Luffy was a bigshot pirate with a big bounty and a special crew. But instead of hanging at his brother's side, Ace was curious about you. He thought you were cute, so he tried to spend some time around you, and you fell victim to his charms and his flirting.

"So, whatcha working on?" The commander grinned, leaning against your desk as you wrote down a few formulas for different chemicals.

"Hmm?" You glanced up, then blushed and quickly looked down. "Oh, nothing. I was just trying to find out how different chemicals and substances react with each other, in case we ever come across some weird devil fruit power or a chemical environment."

"And? Anything interesting?" He prompted, still smiling.

You sighed and shook your head, "Nothing useful. I'm kind of getting bored and I don't really want to read more."

He laughed then, standing up straight and holding out his hand, "Then come with me. And you can tell me about navigation using the stars."

You blushed again but accepted his offer, taking his hand and following him out. The two of you lay on the grass and stared at the sky, as you explained how sailors could locate the positions of islands or navigate where they needed to go using certain constellations and stars. He listened intently, not usually interested in this stuff but eager to hear you talk. He liked your voice, and he thought it was refreshing to see someone talking animatedly about something other than treasure or the One Piece.

"That's interesting," he spoke when you were done, "My brother's lucky to have someone so smart on his crew."

"Oh I'm not that smart," you turned red and shook your head, "I just try, that's all. Most of the time I don't even do anything and I just lay and watch the sky. It's hard to be motivated sometimes."

He studied your face as you said this, then grinned again, "Well, everyone gets lazy and unproductive sometimes. The good thing is that you're trying."

His words reassured you, and you smiled at the thought that he was impressed by you. You glanced at him quickly, then looked back at the sky and felt your heartbeat quicken.

"Someone's gotta do it."

He laughed at that, and turned to face you, "I like you. You're a refreshing change of pace in the world of pirates. No one usually cares about what you do, so it's nice to see you care."

Your cheeks warmed up at that, "I just don't want it impacting my crew, that's all. Sometimes we get let down by not knowing this stuff. I just want to protect my crew from that."

"A noble cause," he agreed.

You snorted, "Since when is anything pirates do noble?"

And the two of you laughed and joked around there under the star-filled sky, and suddenly you didn't feel so ridiculous about wanting to specialise in those topics that pirates generally never used.

Maybe you could also do it for you.

a/n - so, um, i dont even know if i got this right so im SO sorry if i didn't! i wasn't really sure how to go about it, so im really really sorry if it's disappointing. i tried, though!

[rootedinrevisions]

In the Wings: Part 1

SUMMARY: When you're offered the chance to work as a hair and makeup artist on Top Gun 3, it feels like a dream come true. Leaving behind your routine for a Hollywood blockbuster, you arrive on set with high hopes but little expectation of the whirlwind to come. That all changes the day you meet Glen Powell—charming, grounded, and quick to make an impression. As your professional relationship grows, so does a spark between you, but you're still keeping things strictly work. For now, the only thing you're certain of is that this job will be like no other.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Anon who sent me this request and gave me the idea. I'm really hoping I can take your idea and do it justice. I think this will end up being around 4 parts. But if I feel like I need to make it longer or shorter I'll adjust as I finish revising it.

WARNINGS: None.

WORD COUNT: 2.5k

TAG LIST: @omgbrianabomgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891 I @saucy-sassy-sparkly  I  @alipap3  I  @dudinhastuff  I  @lunatygerqueen  I  @hookslove1592  I  @glenpowellluver  I  @missmarveledsblog

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! (I currently have one for Glen Powell & His Characters, One for Bradley/Rooster now, and then a third for WWE/Wrestling. I also can create one for Bucky & other MCU characters if there's interest for more of those characters!)

The email came through on a Wednesday afternoon, catching your attention amidst a relatively slow workday. The subject line read: “Film Contract Inquiry – Urgent Response Requested.” As you clicked it open, your curiosity piqued instantly. The production team was interested in hiring you as a hair and makeup artist for an upcoming film. But unlike most offers you’d received in your career, this one was cloaked in secrecy.

You scanned the email again, focusing on the specific wording. Top secret. No details were given about the film itself, just the fact that you would be based primarily in Southern California, near San Diego, for a total of twelve weeks. The cryptic message hinted that you might also be required to travel for a few additional shoots at other undisclosed locations if needed.

While these types of jobs were nothing new to you—you’d been working on movie sets for over a decade—this one had a different feel. 

For one, they didn’t even mention the title of the project. 

And the compensation offer attached to the email? Far beyond anything you’d ever been offered before. You leaned back in your chair, letting the numbers sink in. They clearly wanted the best for this film, and the pay confirmed it was going to be something big.

But how big? The secrecy surrounding the whole thing was hard to ignore. There wasn’t even a mention of the production company involved, and everything was handled through private communication channels. 

Not only that, but they'd already sent over a non-disclosure agreement for you to sign. Until the movie was officially released, you wouldn’t be able to discuss a single detail—not the actors, not the plot, not even the locations.

The NDA felt like a weight in your inbox, staring back at you as you reread the email for the third time. Something about this film was different, and it intrigued you. Whatever it was, it had to be major if they were going to these lengths to protect it. And with that thought in mind, you clicked “Reply” and began typing.

* * * *

The flight to San Diego was uneventful, and the California sunshine greeted you as soon as you stepped out of the terminal. You quickly spotted a driver holding a sign with your name on it. After introductions, you handed over the address they’d provided, ready for the next step of this mysterious journey.

As the car began weaving through the busy San Diego streets, you took in the sights—the familiar palm trees, the ocean in the distance, the hustle of a city on the coast. You’d worked in Southern California plenty of times, but something about this trip felt different. The secrecy still clung to you like a shadow.

The driver made small talk, but you were too focused on the location to fully engage. It wasn’t until you noticed the roads becoming less crowded, the landscape shifting from city to something more… official, that your curiosity spiked. Fences lined the road now, and you could see uniformed personnel at several checkpoints as the car continued.

A military base?

Your heart skipped a beat as realization dawned on you. You leaned forward, squinting out the window at the upcoming sign confirming your suspicion: Naval Air Station North Island.

The driver pulled up to the security gate, handing over the proper identification and passes. After a brief exchange with the guard, the car was waved through.

You sat back in your seat, processing. So, this film has something to do with the military. That narrowed it down, but not by much. There were plenty of military-themed movies out there, but none that warranted this level of secrecy. You thought back to the emails, still trying to piece together what kind of project could possibly be in the works.

The car came to a stop outside a large set of trailers tucked behind an aircraft hangar. Military personnel and crew members bustled around, a few actors you didn’t yet recognize standing in clusters nearby. The atmosphere was buzzing with excitement, but still, no one gave anything away.

The driver helped unload your bags, and you thanked him before making your way toward one of the trailers you’d been instructed to report to. A sense of unease mixed with anticipation settled in your chest. You were about to find out what all the mystery was about.

With your equipment in tow, you approached the door to the hair and makeup trailer, pausing just long enough to take a breath before stepping inside. Whatever you’d signed on for, you were about to find out—whether you were ready or not.

You stepped inside the trailer, greeted by the familiar scent of hairspray and cosmetics. The space was bustling with activity—mirrors lined with bright lights, makeup kits neatly arranged, and hair styling tools humming in the background. Three other stylists were already there, each at their own station, chatting quietly as they organized their gear.

You scanned the room for an empty spot, finding a vacant station near the back. The butterflies in your stomach settled as you began unpacking your kit, laying out your brushes, combs, and palettes with the same precision you did before any project. Your hands moved with a practiced ease, though your mind was still racing with questions about the film. You tried to brush it off as first-day nerves, but the secrecy of it all still gnawed at you.

A couple of minutes passed before one of the stylists, a brunette with sleek hair pulled into a tight ponytail, approached you with a friendly smile. “You must be the new hire for this project. I’m Katherine,” she said, extending a hand.

“Hi." You said as you gave her your name and shook her hand.

“Welcome! You’ll love this crew,” she said, gesturing to the others who were busy in their own areas. "We’re still settling into the schedule, but it’s a great team." She paused, lowering her voice slightly, “Though this project is next-level crazy, right? So much secrecy.”

You nodded, laughing softly. “I know, right? I’ve never had to sign so many NDAs before starting a job.”

Just as you were about to ask more, the door swung open, and a crew member entered, holding a stack of papers. He looked around before making his way toward you. “I’ve got your list of actors and the schedule for this week.”

“Thanks,” you said, accepting the documents from him.

He gave you a quick nod before heading out, leaving you alone with the list in hand. You glanced down, scanning the schedule you and the other hair and makeup artists would be following. Then you notice the names that are listed.

Tom Cruise. Miles Teller. Glen Powell.

Your eyes widened slightly as recognition hit. You’d heard those names before—especially from Top Gun: Maverick. You looked up from the paper, your heart picking up its pace again. Could it be?

Before you could process it further, you overheard one of the other stylists—Lily—speaking to Katherine in a hushed tone. "I think I saw Tom Cruise on set earlier. They’ve kept it under wraps, but... it’s definitely Top Gun 3."

Your breath caught in your throat. Top Gun 3.

It clicked. The secrecy. The military base. The list of actors. This wasn’t just some random movie set—it was one of the biggest sequels in recent history. You were part of Top Gun.

You tried to keep your face neutral, but inside you were buzzing with excitement. Top Gun 3. You had landed a job on one of the most anticipated movies ever. You looked back down at your list, realizing that you would be working with some of the biggest names in Hollywood over the next few weeks—one of them being Glen Powell.

Your mind raced as you processed it all, but you kept your cool. This was your job, and you needed to stay professional, no matter how starstruck you might be. You took a deep breath, refocused, and went back to setting up your station, knowing that your first day on Top Gun 3 was just beginning.

You were adjusting the lighting at your station when the trailer door creaked open again. You didn’t pay much attention at first, focusing on getting everything perfect for the day ahead. But then, you heard a familiar voice—a low, playful tone that filled the room with ease.

"Is this where the magic happens?"

You looked up, and there he was—Glen Powell, standing in the doorway with a laid-back smile on his face. He was taller than you expected, dressed in casual workout gear, his hair its natural shade, but you knew that wouldn’t last long. Your first task was to lighten Glen’s hair a few shades to look a little more naturally sun-faded than his darker natural color.

His eyes landed on you, and for a brief moment, there was a spark—an instant recognition of something unspoken.

"Yep, this is where we make the magic happen," you responded, grinning as you set your tools down.

Glen walked over to your station, his posture relaxed yet confident. “You must be the one in charge of turning me into Hangman 2.0.”

You chuckled, motioning for him to take a seat in the chair. “I guess I am. Ready to go a few shades lighter?”

He raised an eyebrow, taking a seat in the chair with a smirk. “Let’s see what you’ve got. I’m trusting you with my hair, so no pressure, right?”

“Oh, none at all,” you quipped, rolling your eyes playfully as you grabbed the bleach kit. “Just a couple of hours and we’ll make you camera-ready. Shouldn’t be too painful.”

The banter was light, but the chemistry between the two of you was undeniable. Even though this was your first time meeting, the interaction felt natural, as though you’d known each other for longer. Glen was easygoing, and you found yourself smiling more than you expected as you worked.

As you began sectioning off his hair, you asked, “So, are you nervous about going blond again? Or is this just another day in the life of Glen Powell?”

He leaned back in the chair, his grin widening. “I won’t lie, the last time I did this, I felt like I ended up looking like an extra from Legally Blonde. But hey, if you’re the one doing it, I’m sure it’ll turn out great.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “I promise, no Legally Blonde vibes. Just a subtle lightning. You’ll still look like Hangman.”

Across the trailer, a few of the other makeup artists glanced over, their eyes darting between you and Glen, smiling knowingly. Sarah, one of the artists working on another actor, shot you a teasing look before leaning over to her client, Jay Ellis, who raised an eyebrow in Glen’s direction. You overheard a soft chuckle from Jay as Sarah whispered something.

Glen, oblivious to the side glances, watched you carefully as you applied the bleach, a casual silence settling between you for a few moments before he broke it again. “So, how’d you end up on this project? You’ve got to be pretty top-tier if they brought you onto Top Gun.”

You glanced at him, surprised at the question. "I've been in the business for a while. Special effects makeup is kind of my specialty, but I do all kinds of stuff. They contacted me about this job, and it was all very hush-hush until I got here."

He tilted his head, clearly impressed. "Well, looks like we’re in good hands.”

You felt a subtle warmth in your chest at the compliment, though you brushed it off quickly. “Just doing my job,” you replied, grabbing a small brush to touch up a few sections of his hair. “Anyway, you’ve got the easy part today. They’re filming inside, so minimal makeup. Just enough so you don’t look like a ghost on camera.”

He chuckled. “Don’t want to scare anyone off with my Casper-like complexion.”

As you continued working on his hair, the conversation flowed easily. You asked him about his last few projects, and he asked about yours in return, keeping the tone light and casual. There was something effortless about talking to him, and it made the time fly by faster than expected.

When the bleaching was done and his hair was the perfect shade of lighter blond, you gave it a final check in the mirror. “Well, what do you think?” you asked, turning the chair slightly so he could see the result.

He inspected his reflection, his eyes lighting up in approval. “I’ve got to say, you nailed it. No Elle Woods here.”

You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile. “Told you.”

With his hair done, you moved on to the makeup—just enough to prevent any washout under the bright lights. It was quick and simple, a few strokes here and there, but even as you applied it, the easy conversation continued.

“You know,” Glen said suddenly, as you brushed a bit of powder on his face, “for someone working in Hollywood, you’re pretty laid back. I’ve had stylists who barely talk and are just all about the job, and then there’s you—who’s actually, you know, fun.”

You laughed softly at his words, feeling the compliment slip into the air between you. “Well, I try. I’ve learned that being chill makes the day go by smoother.”

He smirked, his gaze locking onto yours for just a beat too long. “Good policy.”

There it was again—something between you that neither of you acknowledged aloud, but it lingered, making the air feel slightly heavier in the best way. A moment passed, and you stepped back, finishing the last of his touch-ups.

“All done,” you said, stepping back to clean your brushes. “You’re officially camera-ready.”

He stood from the chair, taking a quick look in the mirror again. “Not bad at all. You’re good at this.”

“Thanks,” you replied, flashing a small smile. “Just don’t mess it up too much before they get you on camera.”

He chuckled, his eyes catching yours once more before he turned toward the door. “No promises.” And with that, he gave you a playful wink and left the trailer, leaving you with a slight smile lingering on your lips. 

As soon as the door closed behind him, Sarah leaned over with a knowing look. “Looks like you and Glen are gonna get along just fine.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. “It’s just work,” you said, though the butterflies in your stomach told a slightly different story.

Jay chimed in again, smirking. “Yeah, sure. But I’d say that was the most fun Glen’s had in a makeup chair in a long time.”

[ooffmlsorry]

Hiii congrats for 100 followers!! ❤️ For the event, can I request Ace x reader with the prompt "mistletoe? how corny..." I think it would fit him haha ❤️

Eeeeee!! Of course I can and I so agree he’s such a goofball! Thanks so much for the congratulations! I really hope you like it! Mwah! 😘

A/N: I use the nickname "firefly" which I saw in a post by @eelnoise, just wanted to say I didn't come up with that but it's the perfect pet name, especially because it's gn.

🔥🔥🔥

Ace never liked winter. Most winter islands were barren and hostile. The cold buried people in layers, bullied them into their homes and hovels, suppressed by a natural—and sometimes unnatural—force of nature that they could do nothing against but endure. When snow came to the Goa Kingdom, he remembered it being the same. There was only so much he and his brothers could do outside of the mountain bandits home before they were freezing their little asses off and forced to retreat. 

Even with the mera mera no mi, he doesn’t like the cold. The winter air feels off on his skin because of his devil fruit. It reminds him of getting stitched after a numbing agent has been applied to his skin—knowing that part of him is being tugged but he can’t feel the pain. Winter puts Ace in a bad mood. 

The crew of the Moby Dick knew this, and like any family would, they tried to distract their brother to the best of their ability. And hey, if they benefited from it a little, then so what? Around the ship you could hear:

“Hey Ace! You mind taking care of that ice up ahead?!” 

“Bet you could heat this frozen barrel up in no time, right Fire Fist!”

“Do you mind helping us clear ice off the deck?” 

You sat on one of the cold, wooden benches, bundled up in layers with a mug of hot tea clutched close to your chest. Ace had something for you, something he’d never seen before, he said, but he couldn’t just give it to you and let you open it in peace. 

“That’s not how it works, y/n,” he had said earlier in the day. His fingers dug in a little as they rubbed up and down your arms, dragging his warm hands over your skin. His eyes always sparkle when he looks at you. There are stars up there in those eyes. Whenever you tell him so, he reminds you you’re the one that put them there. 

“Not how it works?” You raised an eyebrow. 

He smirks at you. His hands started to heat up as his cheeks turned a little bit pink. “I have to be there with you,” he said teasingly. Ace leaned down to plant a kiss on your lips, then pulled away just before your lips could meet. “I think someone’s calling my name, sweetheart.” 

You watched in shock, blinking in utter surprise when Ace snickered and sauntered away. (In all honesty, you didn’t know the man had enough restraint to not kiss you.)

Needless to say, your interest was piqued. What kind of gift requires two people? What had Ace found for you on his last mission? Ace always returned with something for you and you kept every single gift. Every seashell, scarf, flower, book, necklace, or trinket from him you saved in a now-empty tin of cookies he got you long before you started dating. All of Ace’s gifts were special, no matter how insignificant he thought they were. 

You watched Ace help brush melted slush off the ship. Your eyes met and he smiled broadly, sticking his tongue out at you. A soft smile spread across your face. How could a man that thought of you every day, that loved his crew so selflessly, be anything but good? How could you not have fallen in love with him? 

As if Ace knew what you were thinking, he stopped. The broom stilled in his arms. His gaze on you burned across your body. Ace turned to his crew member, Barry, and said something to him that you couldn’t hear. You did, however, hear the boisterous laughter that erupted from Barry. Ace picked up some slush and pelted him with it in retaliation. 

He shook his head and wiped snow off the sleeve of his jacket. “Young love,” he said. “Ain’t nothing like it.”  

Red bloomed under Ace’s freckles and his shoulders raised up to his ears. It was adorable seeing him suddenly look as bashful as a school boy as he walked over to you. By the time he got to you, he looked more like himself. 

“All done?” 

“Sure am, firefly.” Ace took the mug from your hands and placed it down on the table. He wrapped his arms around you. Even through your coat, you could feel Ace’s body already begin to warm yours. Your head rested on his bare chest, the jacket he wore was unzipped. For a moment you savored the rumble of his voice through his ribs, the sound of his heart beating strong and loud underneath skin and muscle. 

“I don’t think I’ve told you today how gorgeous you are,” he said. 

“You did,” you said. “You woke up in the middle of night, called me gorgeous and passed out again.” 

“Sounds like me,” he said.

You breathed in the scent of a hearth and the sea, and sighed as you exhaled. “Ready to—AAAH!!” 

Cold. 

Cold was the first thing you felt as slush ice slid down the bare skin of your back, trapped between your body and your now freezing, wet shirt. 

Before you can stop Ace he’s leapt over the bench and took off running, cackling as he made his escape. “Oh you son of a—” You grabbed the nearest handful of melted snow. All your shock and annoyance melted into glee at the panicked look on your boyfriend’s face. “I’m gonna get your ass!” You yelled and took off after him. 

Slipping and sliding on the deck, you weaved between tables and crew members. Cold wind whipped through your hair, whistling in your ears, and stinging your eyes. You followed the sound of Ace’s commotion, stumbled down the stairs and through the hall after him. Your and his laughter echoed behind you. 

Finally, you caught up to Ace who was standing still under the frame of his bedroom. It didn’t occur to you to wonder why he wasn’t still running from you. You were having too much fun. At this point the already melted slush in your hands had turned into water, there was nothing you could do but forcefully smack your cold, wet hand against his chest as you collided with him. 

“HA! I got you!” 

Ace’s arm wrapped around your waist to keep you both from failing. The man hadn’t even flinched.

“Did you? Did you really?” He said, grinning down at you. “It felt more like you were trying to splash me.”

You looked up at him, your lips pushed out in an exaggerated pout. “I can’t believe you did that! Now I’m cold and wet.” 

“Well, I can fix one of those things.” You almost instantly feel warmer as Ace begins to heat up. “I thought this would be more fun than just asking you to come down here,” he said. His hand cups your face softly. The hot calluses on Ace’s hands trail over your skin, gentle and tender enough to make you forget everything that led up to this. He tilts your face to look above him at the green sprig hanging above his door. 

You stare at the beautiful green color of the leaves and the red berries hanging delicately like pearls. Was this the gift? Had Ace really never seen mistletoe before? You pictured Ace coming across the flower on his last mission, maybe in the wild, but more likely someone selling it and being absolutely mystified by the tradition. 

So cute!

"Mistletoe?” You chuckle. “How corny…”

His shoulders slumped slightly. “I should’ve known you’d know what it is,” he said. His eyes no longer met yours. “I thought I’d be surprising you…”

You hardly gave him a chance to be disappointed, sliding your hands up his chest to drape over his shoulders before he could step away. “You don’t need to surprise me. You’re special enough all on your own, Portgas D. Ace.” You twirled your fingers around the tips of his jet black locks and felt him melt a little underneath your touch. “I would have you just as you are.” 

“How did I get so lucky?” Ace mumbled more to himself than to you. You didn’t know who he was asking, and it didn’t matter. You were exactly where you wanted to be. Ace looked at you, his eyes glimmered slightly. The love so plain in his eyes made your stomach flutter. “So if you know what is,” he said softly, “then I can bet you know what comes next?” 

Ace pressed his lips to your almost reverently, cherishing the feeling of your lips against his. Your eyes flutter shut and you enjoy the familiar bliss of his touch. Your fingers curled in his hair slid up to the base of his scalp to urge him on. Ace licked into your mouth as he pushed you up against the frame of the door, the wood pressed between your shoulder blades. When you pulled away you were both breathless with matching smiles on your faces. 

“I love you, Ace,” you said. 

And then he kissed you again. 

[silent-sanctum]

I saw the post you were making requests again, so here is mine if you can do it. My favorite fanfic of your is the Gothic Metalhead Reader x Jotaro headcannon, and I want a continuation of that when they are married and had Jolyne and how after all these years they still haven't changed especially with Jotaro being the house husband (GN reader please) I love your work and hope you are doing well 🩵

hello anon! I'm a bit surprised people still found that lil headcanon I made but I'm happy you found that to be your favorite of the bunch. So, as you requested, here's a lil continuation of the reader living their best life in the years to come~ Hope you enjoy ♡

word count: 629

It’s been 10 years since you’ve started this unexpected relationship with Jotaro Kujo and that’s putting it lightly.

Who would’ve thought a metal head goth and a reserved delinquent would somehow meet one day and somehow made their obvious differences work for the long run. Regardless, it happened and you found yourself in a stable life in Florida with a hardworking husband and a cute daughter containing energy with no bounds in her tiny body.

Naturally, as time passes and you’ve grown several ages older, things changed and some of your old passions phased out. No longer were you that quiet, rebellious kid who’d consume every hot release of their favorite metal song- that teenager who’d spend their savings the second Metallica’s or Black Sabbath’s album were made available in stores.

Then again, an old habit was hard to forget, so despite losing most of your youthful goth edge, you still liked wearing dark-clothing and applying dark make-up for casual wear or for work because it just made sense for you- the fishnets, laces, corsets etc. At times, you’d even find time to plug in your earphones to listen to some old and new metal music.

Nothing beats the classic after all.

Similar happened to your spouse in a more evident way. What once was the teenager with a penchant for being “punk” and “rough-looking”, was now a man who leaned more into a “refined” appearance with his trimmed curls, light or white clothing, with the occasional academia-esque formal wear. Without the need to appeal to fellow peers, Jotaro lost his “edgy” nature in exchange of stoic formality instead.

You both changed throughout the years but at the same time, the bond you had with him never did.

Family life was something you gradually learned with Jotaro when Jolyne was brought into the world. But that’s to be expected for first-time parents. You worked out the nitty-gritty nuances of new dynamics and schedules, had areas to improve on, and some schedules to be fixed, but eventually with some time, you both had found middle ground.

Most often, you were the one working full-time in your work area while your husband would stay at home to work in his office. It worked for you because while your profession needed you to be in the area, his job didn’t require him to be in the field all the time paired with the fact that he also had his thesis to finish.

And so your typical day would start with a nice morning routine with your small family and end with you coming home from work to your daughter happily greeting you with a wide, toothy grin and your husband saying a pleasant “how’s your day?” when he’s in the middle of setting the table.

There were also times when Jolyne would find your old stash of metal albums and ever the curious child she was, she wanted to know what they were. You weren’t ashamed of your interests and you had no reasons to be embarrassed of your seemingly unique taste in music and aesthetic.

So you sat her down as if you were telling a story and you shared all you knew about your love of metal music and the appeal of goth fashion. By the end of the month, you couldn’t help but smile, flattered when you’ve noticed Jolyne taking interest in more hard-hitting songs and dark-adjacent apparel with a neon twist.

Looking back in your life like this- sitting by your table littered with pictures of your family in your office space during the break hour, you smiled to yourself as you wore your earphones to listen to the same metal song that played when you first encountered Jotaro that day.

You wouldn’t live life any other way.

[freesia-writes]

First time making a request, I'm nervous lol

I would love something kinda awkward but sweet with my main Man Howzer.

Either the "being too awkward to know what to do with the hands" and/ or the panic while figuring out if they are actually leaning in for a kiss

The awkward one being reader, GN as well if possible 🫶🏼

Feel free to ignore if the request post was old and my ask is out of place 😱

Have a great rest of the weekend 🫶🏼

Helloooooo my friend! What a joy and honor to be your first request. Thank you SO MUCH for your patience. Writing has been so hard for me lately; trying to have a steady stream of thought feels like wading through mud. But I've missed it and have felt more inspired to give it a try, so I hope my clunky effort is somewhat heartwarming and enjoyable! :)

Howzer x GN!Reader Word Count: 1.8k

You’d rolled your eyes when your Galactic Political Science class had assigned you to an externship on the planet Ryloth, having only heard of its dusty plains and occasionally volatile population. But now, eight months later, you wouldn’t have it any other way. Your job shadows of various political aides and diplomatic entourages had led you right into the vicinity of the man of your dreams. He was a clone, which some of your Coruscant classmates teased you about, but you couldn’t care less what they thought, uppity and narrow-minded as they were. 

Captain Howzer had caught your eye in one of the first meetings held on the planet, and your jaw had nearly dropped open at the sight of him. Immediately overthinking it, you wondered if you were so shallow that something so simple as a haircut could really make that much of a difference. But in hindsight, you were convinced that you were instead just an excellent judge of character, as your time working in close proximity to him had revealed a depth and integrity that left you in awe. He was level-headed and clever, and often came up with solutions to issues or conflicts that were impressively insightful. 

He was also kind of a dork. 

You’d never have believed it, but the more time you spent together, the more you caught the cheesy little jokes he’d make or the awkward comments that would slip by. As if he couldn’t be any cuter, his self-effacing humor and easygoing approach to life were just cherries on top.

So when it came time for your externship to come to an end, you were not in any hurry to leave. You’d enjoyed a number of mildly flirtatious moments with Howzer amid a great many conversations and encounters within your line of work, and yet you still felt as though he had enough depth to keep you pursuing him for decades. But you didn’t have many options: your program needed to be finished and it required your presence on Coruscant. To drop out now would be to lose everything you’d worked toward… not to mention your parents would never forgive you. 

You weren’t sure what to do, but you knew you had to do something. 

Your chance came not too long after, as the Ryloth session came to a close with a “Review Ceremony”, complete with awards and rife with lessons on political butt-kissing and how to appear in public to best sway opinion in your direction. You couldn’t have felt more uncomfortable if you tried. It was a black tie event, with all of the leaders in the sector attending, as well as aides, classmates, and local law enforcement. You chafed in your outfit, trying to walk as smoothly as possible through the doors, which opened into a massive chamber so tall you couldn’t see where it ended. 

Graceful vines and floating luminaries wove an intricate pattern above the guests, casting a warm glow across the proceedings. The hubbub of conversation was punctuated by the tinkling of expensive crystal and effervescent laughter as the influencers of the sector rubbed elbows and congratulated each other on everything and nothing. You were at the edge of a group of some of your peers, nodding and smiling at what you hoped were the appropriate places, but you weren’t really paying attention. 

If this externship had taught you anything, it was that you didn’t really have any interest whatsoever in this side of politics, and you were instead trying to look around the cavernous room for any sight of Howzer. You were scheduled to leave in the morning and still hadn’t found a time or way to confess any feelings. Even if you had found the right moment, you were still going back and forth endlessly about doing it at all. You were leaving, so what was the point? It’s not like he could leave his post and come with you…

“Excuse me,” a voice broke through your reverie, a voice you’d recognize anywhere… You turned far too quickly to “keep your cool”, heart skipping a beat when you saw Howzer in his standard armor. He tilted his head and you could almost see his expression through his helmet as he continued, “There seems to be an issue with your luggage. Would you please follow me?” 

You’d packed all your things that day, scheduled to ship out bright and early with the first transport. At first, you frowned, feeling that familiar anxiety in the pit of your stomach as you considered any and every possibility of what could have gone wrong. But when you noticed his broad shoulders ahead of you headed out onto the balcony, you were thoroughly confused. 

“Howzer, where’s–” you began, but he turned around so quickly you almost ran into him, hands a hair’s length away from his chest plate. 

“Sorry,” he answered, a crooked grin on his beautiful face as he pulled off his helmet. “You looked as miserable as I felt in there, so I thought we could get some air. Plus, there’s something kinda neat out here tonight…” He looked almost sheepish, sending a thrill from your head to your toes. You opened your mouth to ask about it but couldn’t get a word out when he suddenly took your hand in his. You could barely feel the warmth through his glove, but the thrill it sent through you felt like an electric charge. 

He pulled you gently toward the edge of the balcony, where a thick railing curved in a graceful half-circle that allowed for a beautiful view of the evening horizon. The dark Ryloth sky was peppered with distant stars and nearby planets, as well as the occasional ship coming or going. As the two of you came to a halt against the railing, he released your hand, leaving a cold emptiness where it had been, and pointed at a cluster of glimmering lights in the sky. 

“If you watch there for the next twenty minutes, there’s a meteor shower expected to start…”

“Twenty minutes!” you laughed.

“I mean…” he began, faltering with a chuckle, “I guess that is a bit of a long time…” 

“We’ll have to find some way to keep ourselves occupied for all that time I guess,” you said, choking on your own words as they came out sounding far more suggestive than you’d anticipated. “I mean… I’d like to see it, and… Well I don’t know when the ceremony will be starting… But I also don’t really care…. I mean, not like I’m going to win any awards, but…” Your brain yelled at you to stop talking, because every word felt as though it were making it worse. 

But Howzer seemed unfazed, his steady presence brightened by the sparkle in his eye as he shook his head. “And just why wouldn’t you win an award?” was his only response, leaning over the railing to gaze out across the expanse, keeping his words light but still casting a sideways glance at you that gave you the tingles.

“They’re not given based on merit…” you began, cynicism rising to the surface in the wake of your stressful end-of-internship duties. His gaze danced in the moonlight, flickers of amusement battling an undercurrent of something deeper, something warmer. It felt like forever until his soft voice broke the spell.

"Well, I don’t know if they told you, but you were the first place finalist for the Howzer trophy," he countered, his grin widening as he turned fully to face you. 

You laughed out loud now, clapping a hand to your forehead. “Oh?” you asked curiously, hoping beyond hope that it meant what you thought. The awkwardness that had been simmering between you seemed to dissolve, replaced by a charged stillness. 

The silence stretched, punctuated only by the distant thrum of the city and the faint murmur of voices from within the chamber behind. Your hands, previously clutched together in nervous anticipation, twitched instinctively. One of them, as if possessed by its own will, drifted up, hovering near his armor plate for a second before returning to the railing.

Howzer's breath hitched, and his eyes flickered down to your hand, then back up to your eyes. His grin, which had been playful moments ago, softened into something sweeter, something tinged with a hint of vulnerability that mirrored your own. He leaned in, slowly, his face a mere whisper away from yours. 

“Yeah. I think you’re great,” he said softly.

Now your own breath caught in your throat, your mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Should you pull away? Lean in? Speak, even though the right words seemed impossible in the face of this sudden, electrifying intimacy? The decision was almost out of your hands as his face drew closer still. His lips, slightly parted, hovered just a hair's breadth from yours. Was he leaning in for a kiss? Or was he teasing, enjoying the delicious torture of unspoken promises? That didn’t seem like him, but why was he taking so long? 

“Howzer, I… um…” you began, kicking yourself immediately for speaking in a moment such as this. Should you cup his face? Playfully brush a strand of hair from his forehead? Interlace your fingers with his? Your palms felt slick with nervous sweat, your fingers twitching with the urge to do something, anything, but they remained awkwardly suspended in the space between you.

His eyes seemed to twinkle with unspoken laughter, as if he could see the frantic dance of indecision playing out behind your eyes. But then, a flicker of something softer, something genuine, replaced the teasing glint. His gaze held yours, steady and intense, a silent plea for permission and eager hope. And in that moment, you knew. This wasn't about playful banter or coy games. 

With a sharp inhale, you closed the distance, your own lips meeting his in a hesitant, unsure kiss. Your hands, finally finding their purpose, landed clumsily on his chest for a moment, then tentatively cupped his face. His own hands, just as unsure, found their way to your waist, pulling you closer, grounding you in the reality of his closeness. When you finally pulled away, breathless and dizzying, your eyes met his, and the awkwardness was gone, replaced by a quiet joy. The two of you stared at each other for a moment, relishing in the waves of bliss that were washing over you repeatedly. 

"So," Howzer said, his voice rough with emotion, a playful glint still lingering in his eyes. "Still about seventeen minutes til that meteor shower eh?”

You laughed, absolutely quavering with emotion and excitement. “What to do…” you murmured, voice shaky and heart bursting at the seams. 

“I can think of a few things,” he murmured, stroking the side of your cheek with the back of his hand.

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[kaixserzz]

Hello! If it's alright, may I request Pantalone, Tighnari, and Wanderer's s/o (separately, of course) helping them when the boys aren't feeling good? S/o comforting the boys instead of the other way around

Thank you! I hope you have a lovely rest of your day/night ✨️

With You By My Side

ੈ♡˳ Pantalone x Gn!Reader *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ 0.8k words ┊ Fluff *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ Masterlist *ೃ༄

author's note ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

HIII ty for the request !!! i hope i delivered this nicely and sorry for taking for so long HDIJSKNADSA!! requests open btw guys :3 have a nice day/night too !! sorry i didn't include tighnari, i just can't think of anything rn for him :(( while wanderer's gonna be a separate one!! i just had a really good fic idea for it... teehee :3 i hope i didn't disappoint too much

More often than not, Pantalone finds himself stressed being one of the Harbingers of the Fatui. There's always something to do, with piles and piles of paperwork adorning his desk, requiring meticulous scrutiny and countless signatures.

Alas, not everything proceeds according to plan; Il Dottore often approaches him, beseeching for additional Mora to fund his recent projects, and then there are the damages he must compensate for due to the Traveler's meddling. The responsibilities seem unending, despite being merely the 9th of the Harbingers.

Nevertheless, Pantalone is resolute in his dedication to his duties. He never entertains the thought of slacking off, for he knows that giving his all is the only way to secure the rewards he rightfully deserves. At the end of the day, he envisions all the Mora he could ever desire within the grasp of his fingertips as a fitting testament to his unwavering commitment.

Regrettably, he finds himself vulnerable to the relentless onslaught of growing exhaustion and the suffocating grip of stress.

There's still so much to be done! Papers and meetings—this just won't do! As he lets out yet another deep sigh, he can feel the weariness settling in, each breath a testament to his exhaustion.

As three soft knocks echo on his door, he couldn't help but groan. With a determined effort, he straightens up on his chair, hoping to appear presentable enough to whoever stands outside. "Come in," he calls out, setting his pen down on the desk as he readies a smile on his lips.

As you stepped inside his office, a bright smile adorning your face, and a cup of tea carefully prepared just for him in your hand, a sense of relief washed over him, causing his tense body to relax. With each step you took toward him, his smile widened, feeling utterly cherished as you handed him the soothing tea, magically dispelling all his stress and exhaustion at the mere sight of you.

With a small bow, a gesture of respect for his position as a Harbinger, though you were his dearest lover. There was genuine concern in your eyes as you addressed him, "You've been hard at work, my Lord. I hope you give yourself a moment of rest."

"Thank you for your worries, my dear," Pantalone replied gratefully, feeling a warm flush in his cheeks as he took a sip of the perfectly prepared tea. He couldn't help but marvel at how you knew precisely what he needed without him having to say a word, coming to his office at just the right time. "I am almost finished for today," He added, reassured by your presence, knowing that with you by his side, he could find solace as he continued on with his work.

Flashing him another dazzling smile gracing your face, you positioned yourself beside his desk and gracefully bowed your head. "If you need anything else, please tell me. I will do my best to help."

Pantalone perks up at your words, a mischievous smirk played on his lips, and he casually set down the cup of tea on his desk. "Is that so?" You nodded eagerly, "Then kiss me," He simply ordered with a rather teasing tone. Pantalone chuckled, charmed at your cute reaction, eyes widening before your face flushing and quickly averting your eyes from him.

For a moment, you struggled to form a sentence, before furrowing your brows and clearing your throat, looking back at him with an embarrassed expression. "My Lord, we are still at work..." Pantalone raised a brow at that, crossing his arms.

"Oh? And I'm your superior." He stated with an authoritative tone, reminiscent of how he addressed the Fatui soldiers working beneath. But you could tell it was all for fun by the twinkle in his eyes. "So, I am ordering you to kiss me right now."

"But my Lord, what if-"

"You're not defying my orders now, are you?" His smirk widened when you looked completely cornered, hiding your extremely flustered face from him with your hand.

"N-no, my Lord..." With a small sigh escaping your lips, you gave him a playful glare. Taking a step toward him, you leaned down, and let him grab you by the back of your neck. He pulled you close to him, greedy lips attaching to yours.

It takes a good amount of force from you to separate from him, the kiss leaving you panting and a little lightheaded. You could tell he really needed that based on his very pleased face. He licked his lips, eyeing your lips for more, but you put your hand on them, glancing nervously at his door.

He didn't let up, trailing kisses all over your face and down to your jawline. You had to hold him by the back of his head to prevent him from going further down. "My Lord," You warned him, but you weren't pulling away from him either.

Pantalone's laughter resonated wholeheartedly, his hand gently cupping your cheek as a genuine and sincere smile adorned his face. It was a smile filled with love and adoration, a reflection of the deep affection he held exclusively for you.

"Now, sit on my lap." He teases once again, "That's an order."

"My Lord..."

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛❛ If you like this a lot, consider reblogging! I'll appreciate it very very much! Don't repost and/or translate my work anywhere. ❜❜ ┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

[justmystyles]

hi there !! so i have a bit of a heavy request for you.

could you maybe do a hurt / comfort with harry where he finds out you’ve self-harmed and he comforts the SHIT out of you?

been going thru a bit of a rough patch lately , i hope this isn’t too much :)

have a good day lovely!!

Scars

check out my other works!

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

word count: 2.2k

summary: can harry be the comfort you need after falling back into old habits?

warnings: self-harm

a/n: so i woke up to this ask first thing this morning, i usually stay away from heavy topics like this, just because they require a special amount of care, and i don't know that i can do them the justice they deserve. but i was so moved that this lovely anonymous user asked me to help them through thier rough patch that i got to work on it immediately.

anon - thank you so much for asking me to help you through this time. i know we don't know each other, but if you ever need someone to talk to, i am right here. and that goes for any of you. i know i'm new here, and just a faceless username on a website, but i am always happy to be a listening ear, or do whatever i can to be there for you.

tags: @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @lexiecamposv @n0vaj3an @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

You stood in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at your bare torso as you ran your fingers along the fresh marks. It had been years since you’d found yourself in this place, and you were silently cursing yourself for getting here as the tears streamed down your face. 

The first time this happened, it was a complete accident. You had been so frustrated at something or other, you honestly couldn’t remember the initial catalyst at this point, that you had clenched tiny crescent shapes into your palms. As you watched the blood emerge, you felt a sense of calm. At least this pain was tangible. If you were going to be hurt, you wanted to at least see it. So that’s what you did. 

For a long time after that, when life became too much, when you were feeling alone or misunderstood, you would mark yourself. You always knew it wasn’t the best way to handle things, but it gave you a sense of control you didn’t otherwise feel you had in your life. 

You were usually pretty good at concealing the scars. Tucking them away the same way you did with your emotional struggles. Until you were asked to be a bridesmaid in your cousin’s wedding. The dress was gorgeous, your cousin knew about your body image struggles, and took the utmost care to find something that would be flattering for you, something you would be comfortable in. And then you tried it on, unprepared for the slit that went up to your mid-thigh, showing off your collection of scars. Nobody said anything at the fitting, even though they all noticed. A few days later, your cousin spoke to you privately, and you broke down, telling her everything. She was incredibly supportive, and worked with you to make sure you got the help you needed. 

But here you were, years later, feeling like that sad, scared girl from all those years ago. You weren’t sure how it escalated to this point, you had been through a rough couple of weeks at work. Late hours, nonstop meetings, more criticism than praise. Your family were all so busy with their own lives that you barely had the chance to speak with them. And then there was the one person that was supposed to be your rock, Harry. 

Harry was incredible. You had never felt so loved, so cared for. You still remember the first time you showed him your scars, and told him about your past. He listened with rapt attention, tears pooling in his eyes. When you finished, all he could do was place soft kisses to each of your scars, muttering apology after apology and promising to protect you from ever feeling that much pain again. 

But he was on the other side of the world right now, he couldn’t be there for you in the way you needed. Between the time difference and your busy schedules, you felt like the two of you were merely pen pals. It wasn’t his fault, this was his job. You knew that, it was what you had signed on for when you started seeing him. That didn’t make you feel any less alone though.  

You were startled out of your thoughts by your doorbell. You furrowed your brow as you checked the time on your phone. Who would be bothering you this late? You splashed some water on your face to hide your tears, and grabbed your shirt off the towel rack, throwing it on before moving to the door. 

You left the chain on the door, opening it a sliver to see who was on the other side. The moment you were met with Harry’s sparkling green eyes and wide smile, the tears made their return. You stood in silence, the door partially opened as your brain tried to process that he was here, standing at your door. 

“I think I’ve successfully proven I’m not a nefarious stranger, think you could let me in now?” He joked. 

You closed the door just long enough to remove the chain before opening it wide, sniffing and wiping your eyes as you took him in, really took him in. Before you could react, he had charged over the threshold, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in your neck. “I missed you, angel.” He murmured against your skin as his lips left soft kisses against you. 

“I missed you too,” you say as you pull back. He looks at your tear stained face, bringing his hand up to wipe the wetness away. “But what? Why? How?” You’re at a complete loss, he wasn't supposed to be back for another week. 

Harry chuckled at your flustered state, brushing a stray hair behind your ear. “I was able to get things wrapped up early, so I’m here to surprise you.” 

After a few more hugs and whispered I missed yous, the two of you got settled on the couch, turning on the television for background noise as you caught each other up on the past few weeks. 

Once he had gushed about the projects he had been working on, and you had shared some minor details about your world, you got settled in his arms and the two of you started watching television, just enjoying the feeling of being with each other again. 

As the evening went on, Harry’s hand absentmindedly traveled under your t-shirt, stroking the skin on your hip before moving around and running up your stomach. You were half asleep, the comfort of being in his arms making you forget your actions from earlier in the day, so you didn’t register what was happening until he softly said your name in a questioning tone. You hummed in response. 

“What happened here?” He stroked over the marks once more. 

Your eyes went wide and you sat up, pulling your shirt down to ensure he couldn’t see anything. “Nothing.” 

“Y/N,” Harry said in a gentle warning tone. He reached for the hem of your shirt, but you scooted away from him on the couch. “Please?” His tone was less of a warning and more of a plea this time. 

You took a deep breath and lifted your shirt, holding the hem just below your bra line. Harry’s eyes went wide at the sight, running a finger down your stomach as tears immediately began to pool in his eyes. “Y/N, these are fresh.”

You open your mouth to respond, but all that comes out is a guttural sob. All of the pain, loneliness, everything from the past few weeks being released at once. Harry is on you in an instant, wrapping you in his arms allowing you to cry against his chest as he strokes your hair and holds you for as long as you need. You both know this is something you will need to discuss, but you’re also in no state to have that conversation right now. 

“Shhh,” Harry coos. “It’s alright baby, I’m right here. Let it all out.” He holds you tighter, wanting to make sure you knew he was there, and he wasn’t going anywhere. His own tears begin to fall as he continues to listen to your wails, and feel your body shake against his. 

The only words spoken for the remainder of the night are Harry’s assurances to you that he’s there, and that he’s got you. Eventually, the two of you fall asleep in each other’s arms on the couch. 

The next morning, you stretch your body as your hand comes to your eye, wiping the sleep away. You can feel that your face is still puffy from your tears, your head pounding. You look around and see that you’re alone. You stand from the couch and head out in search of Harry. You immediately hear the sizzle of a frying pan and make your way into the kitchen to see Harry’s back to you as he stands over the stove. 

“Harry?” Your voice is raspy and low. 

He turns immediately, greeting you with a sad smile as he takes you in. “Hey baby.” He steps up to you, placing a gentle kiss on your lips before bringing his hand up, brushing your cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Go sit at the table, alright? Breakfast is almost ready.” 

You nod and take your seat, watching as Harry disperses the scrambled eggs from the frying pan to two plates that are already stacked high with pancakes. He brings them over, placing one in front of you, and the other at the setting beside you. He then goes to the refrigerator, pulling out a bowl of fresh fruit, putting it between the two of you. 

“Juice?” He asks, wanting to make sure you have everything you need before he sits down. 

“Um… water please?” He nods, kissing the top of your head before going back to the refrigerator and getting you a glass of water. 

When he returns, he takes his seat beside you and the two of you eat in silence, Harry occasionally reaching over to squeeze your thigh gently. His way of reminding you that he is there. You know a conversation is coming, but you don’t dare speak first, hoping to put it off for as long as possible. 

Once you have finished eating, Harry clears the plates, putting them in the sink for later. He comes back to your side, taking your hand as he sits. “Baby,” he says softly, searching your eyes. “What happened?” You shake your head, dropping your gaze to the floor, he immediately slides his finger under your chin, bringing your eyes to his. “Talk to me. Please.”

You feel a lump in your throat when you hear the desperation in his voice. “I’m sorry.” You choke out. 

“Hey hey hey,” he moves his hand from under your chin to cupping your cheek. “Don’t be sorry, you have nothing to apologize for. I just want to help you. But I can’t help if you don’t talk to me.” 

You close your eyes, leaning into his touch and take a deep breath. The warmth of his hands on yours gives you the push you need to start. You tell him everything, all the things that have gone wrong over the last few weeks. The overwhelming feelings of hurt, loneliness, inadequacy. It feels so good to get it off your chest. You look at Harry as you speak, and you see no judgment in his expression, you know that he’s taking in everything you’re saying, and that his brain is working overtime to figure out how he can fix it, how he can make everything better.  

Once he’s sure you’re finished, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his lap placing soft kisses along your jaw. “Baby, I wish you had told me. No good can come from keeping this all to yourself.” 

“You were busy. I didn’t want you to worry about me.” You wrap your arms around him, burying your face into his neck.

He tilts his head, pressing a kiss against your temple. “Angel, no matter what I’m doing I am never too busy for you. I want to be here for you for everything, the good and the bad. We’re a team, right?” He feels you nod against his shoulder, he places his hands on the sides of your neck, pulling your face back to look at him. “I need to hear you tell me, baby.”

“We’re a team.” You say softly. 

“That’s right,” he brings your face to his, kissing you softly on the lips before kissing away the tears that had fallen. “One of the things I love most about us, about you, is that I know that no matter what is happening I have you. I can run anything by you at any time. Right?” You nod in agreement. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if everything was one sided like that? I came to you with my stuff, and you just took it on while also managing your own, all by yourself.” 

“I don’t want to be a burden on you.”

“Y/N Y/L/N, you are anything but a burden. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me.” He assures you confidently. “Just you saying that proves how selfless and giving you are. But in order to take care of me, and everyone else who loves you, you need to properly take care of yourself.” 

You nod in understanding. “Thank you.”

“No my love, thank you.” He said with a soft smile. “Thank you for trusting me with your heart. I promise you, no matter where I am or what I’m doing, if you pick up that phone and tell me that you need me, I am going to do everything in my power to give you whatever you need. Okay?” 

“Okay.” 

He pulls your face to his, kissing you deeply. Enough to feel all of the love that he has for you. He doesn’t just want to tell you how much you mean to him, he wants to show you. When he finally pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, brushing your cheek with his thumb. “Do you want me to run you a bath? I think you could use some relaxation.” 

“Will you stay with me?” 

“Of course, my love. There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”