#who also didn’t know each others’ names

[felinefractious]

[Image Source]

Gene Behind Orange Fur in Cats Found at Last

Shared from Science.org.

It would be pretty easy to guess that Garfield was a tomcat even if you didn’t know his name—or didn’t want to peek under his tail. Most orange cats are boys, a quirk of feline genetics that also explains why almost all calicos and tortoiseshells are girls.

Scientists curious about those sex differences—or perhaps just cat lovers—have spent more than 60 years unsuccessfully seeking the gene that causes orange fur and the striking patchwork of colors in calicos and tortoiseshells. Now, two teams have independently found the long-awaited mutation and discovered a protein that influences hair color in a way never seen before in any animal.

“I am fully convinced this is the gene and am happy,” says Carolyn Brown, a University of British Columbia geneticist who was not involved in either study. “It’s a question I’ve always wanted the answer to.”

Scientists have long been fascinated by tortoiseshell and calico cats: the offspring of a black cat and an orange cat. Multicolored cats from such a cross are almost always female, suggesting the gene variant that makes fur orange or black is located on the X chromosome. The male offspring of such a cross are typically unicolor because they inherit just one parent’s X chromosome: We can guess, for instance, that Garfield’s mother is orange because he inherited his only X chromosome from her.**

But female cats inherit an X chromosome from each parent. Cells don’t generally need both, so during embryonic development each cell randomly chooses one X to express genes from. The other chromosome rolls up into a mostly inert ball—a phenomenon called X inactivation. As a result, tortoiseshell cats end up with separate patches of black and orange fur depending on which chromosome was inactivated in that part of their skin. Calico cats add white fur into the mix because they have a second, unrelated genetic mechanism that shuts down pigment production in some cells.

In most mammals, including humans, red hair is caused by mutations in one cell surface protein, Mc1r, that determines whether skin cells called melanocytes produce a dark pigment or a lighter red-yellow pigment in skin or hair. Mutations that make Mc1r less active cause melanocytes to get “stuck” producing the light pigment.

But the gene encoding Mc1r didn’t seem explain where cats’ orange fur came from. It isn’t located on the X chromosome in cats or any other species—and most orange cats don’t have Mc1r mutations. “It’s been a genetic mystery, a conundrum,” says Greg Barsh, a geneticist at Stanford University.

To solve it, Barsh’s team collected skin samples from four orange and four nonorange fetuses from cats at spay-neuter clinics. As a proxy to determine how individual skin cells express genes, the researchers measured the amount of RNA that each melanocyte was producing and determined the gene it encoded. Melanocytes from orange cats, they found, made 13 times as much RNA from a gene called Arhgap36. The gene is located on the X chromosome, which led the team to think they had the key to orange color.

But when the researchers looked at Arhgap36’s genetic sequence in orange cats, they didn’t find any mutations in the DNA that encodes the Arhgap36 protein. Instead, they found the orange cats were missing a nearby stretch of DNA that didn’t affect the protein’s amino acid components but might be involved in regulating how much of it the cell produced. Scanning a database of 188 cat genomes, Barsh’s team found every single orange, calico, and tortoiseshell cat had the exact same mutation. The group reports the discovery this month on the preprint server bioRxiv.

A separate study, also posted to bioRxiv this month, confirms these findings. Similar experiments run by developmental biologist Hiroyuki Sasaki at Kyushu University and his colleagues revealed the same genetic deletion in 24 feral and pet cats from Japan, as well as among 258 cat genomes collected from around the world. They also found that skin from calico cats had more Arghap36 RNA in orange regions than in brown or black regions. Moreover Arhgap36 genes in mice, cats, and humans acquire chemical modifications that silence them on one of the two X chromosomes in females, Sasaki’s team documented, suggesting the gene is subject to X inactivation.

When Barsh and Sasaki learned their respective teams had discovered the same mutation, they decided to post their preprints at the same time. (Because they are preprints, neither study has been peer reviewed.) Both groups further found that increasing the amount of Arhgap36 in melanocytes activates a molecular pathway that switches the cells to producing light red pigment regardless of whether MC1r is active.

No one previously knew Arhgap36 could affect skin or hair coloration—it is involved in many aspects of embryonic development, and major mutations that affect its function throughout the body would probably kill the animal, Barsh says. But because the deletion mutation appears to only affect Arhgap36 function in melanocytes, cats with the mutation are not only healthy, but also cute.

Arhgap36’s inactivation pattern in calicos and tortoiseshells is typical of a gene on the X chromosome, Brown says, but it’s unusual that a deletion mutation would make a gene more active, not less. “There is probably something special about cats.”

Experts are thrilled by the two studies. “It’s a long-awaited gene,” says Leslie Lyons, a feline geneticist at the University of Missouri. The discovery of a new molecular pathway for hair color was unexpected, she says, but she’s not surprised how complex the interactions seem to be. “No gene ever stands by itself.”

Lyons would like to know where and when the mutation first appeared: There is some evidence, she says, that certain mummified Egyptian cats were orange. Research into cat color has revealed all kinds of phenomena, she says, including how the environment influences gene expression. “Everything you need to know about genetics you can learn from your cat.”

A Deletion at the X-linked Arhgap36 Gene Locus is Associated With the Orange Coloration of Tortoiseshell and Calico Cats

Molecular and Genetic Characterization of Sex-linked Orange Coat Color in the Domestic Cat

**Minor correction: Garfield’s mother could also have been a tortoiseshell.

[soleilapproves]

Nanami is in love with his best friend who saves him from a creepy woman. Honestly, I’m not sure what the plot is. I just wrote this because I was procrastinating my chem assignment.

Notes: reader referred to as wife

main masterlist

Nanami Kento didn’t know when he fell in love with you. Maybe it was when you giggled and pulled him out of the house to jump around in the rain with you. Or was it when you fell asleep on his shoulder after a long workday?

He didn’t know that you found so much solace in him. 

His breathing was shallow as he watched you prance around your shared kitchen, singing a generic pop song about… love, was it? Or heartache. He didn’t know or care; all he knew was that you were wearing his shirt like it belonged to you- like he didn’t spend his hard-earned money to buy something for work, and you just plucked it out of the laundry room like it had your name on it.

He half expected you to be all bashful once you turned around and saw him, but no, you just pointed the whisk you used to mix your pancake batter at him and began lip-syncing the song's lyrics to him. He scoffed as he walked around the kitchen island and held on to your waist. Your singing slowed down as his grip tightened on you.

“What? You were hogging up the space in front of the coffee machine. Don’t stop on my account,” Nanami nonchalantly said as he dragged you away from the coffee station. Bewildered, you went back to singing again, facing away from him as you looked for cinnamon in the spice cabinet. 

Nanami bit the inside of his cheek as he noticed your ears looked redder than usual.

It all felt oddly domestic. Your work shoes were strewn by the door, he was comfortable with his hair being disheveled, your unapologetically tone-deaf singing, and of course, the fact that you were making breakfast for him unprompted. 

‘I could live like this forever,’ the blond thought. Of course, minus the whole best-friends-who-live-together-and-aren’t-in-a-romantic-relationship situation.

But was confessing to you a good idea? What if you both broke up and never wanted to see each other again? What would happen to your living arrangement then? He can’t handle not seeing you for a day. It would be horrible for his sanity. 

But then again, you both have been friends for so long that it only felt natural to be with each other all the time.

He ignored his heart, screaming at him to confess to you. The man was clearly too far gone; if he spent another day in your presence, he would surely go mad. In love and in vain.

He ignored his thoughts when he saw you accidentally pick up his cup and place your lips exactly where his were a few seconds ago. You scrunched your nose, and it took everything in him not to kiss it. “Dear God, this is bitter. I’m sorry, Ken, but I will never enjoy your tastes in food.” 

Ken

He could hear you say that all day, all night, and in his dreams. Fuck, weren’t you a magnetic being?

He ignored his heart while brushing his teeth later that night. He put his hand on his chest and rubbed it when he saw your toothpaste next to his. Yours was pink, and his was blue. A silly little cliche among most couples. He looked at the shower shelf in the bathroom- you used the same body wash as him because you said men’s shower gels smelled better. He simply complied and brought you a few bottles because it gave him the illusion that you had slept in his bed. 

The two of you were polar opposites. He preferred a quiet night in, while you’d take advantage of your weekends and go out with friends. You hated cooking while he cooked elaborate recipes for fun. You were very outdoorsy while he preferred to use his treadmill.

There were so many differences, but you both complemented one another so well. So much that it confused mutual friends. People often asked why you both weren't a couple instead of if you were one.

He would also ignore his heart when it thrilled him to see men walk away from you as soon as he was in your space, hands naturally sitting on your waist while you whined about being single. ‘I’m right here!’ he wanted to scream. ‘Look at me!’

But his heart reached its wits end when you pretended to be his wife to protect him from an uncomfortably touchy woman.

Nanami is a simple man; he gets excited when he hears about food. Especially when it has to do with trying new dishes. So it was only natural that he dragged you to a global food festival in the city. It was pleasantly warm in the outdoor space for a cold winter night, thanks to all the cooking going on in the stands. You were a little overstimulated by all the smells, but the excitement on Nanami’s face was well worth the temporary discomfort. By now, you both had traveled to France, Turkey, and India via flavors alone.

The bar at the food stand you both were eating was getting increasingly crowded by the second, so it was only natural that there would be some unintentional physical contact with strangers. Nanami wrapped his arm around you to prevent the old man beside you from rubbing all his nauseating cologne over you. You ignored the way your body fit right next to his. And dare you say- like a puzzle piece with the silhouette of your breasts pressing up right beneath his pecs. 

You both decided to share a bowl of spicy noodle soup, but you couldn’t handle the prickly taste of peppers on your tongue. “I’m gonna grab something sweet. You want anything?” 

Nanami missed your warmth as you climbed out of the booth’s eating bench. “I’m alright, I’ll wait for you.” 

You also needed a few minutes away from him so your body could catch a break. The rush of adrenaline you’d get when he’d touch you was unlike any other.

He didn’t touch his noodle soup in your absence. It felt tasteless to him without you pressed up next to him. 

He continued his wallowing while staring at the bowl of soup until he felt someone slide in next to him. Excited, he turned around only to be met with a stranger. “Oh my, I really want to try the spicy noodle soup, but I’m scared it’ll be too painful.” 

“I’m sure the owner can give you a sample, and this seat is taken, so I’m gonna have to ask you to move to another place.” 

The insistent woman placed her manicured hand on his bicep, and Nananmi’s posture stiffened. “Oh, come on, I’ll just take a sip from you- I mean, your bowl, and I’ll be out of your hair.” 

This was turning into sexual harassment, and he was about to pull out his sanitizer spray to put her in her place until he heard a familiar voice. “Hey, lady! Leave him alone.” He let out a breath of relief when you arrived, ice cream in hand. 

“I can do whatever I want; it’s a free country,” she sulked.

“So can he, and he asked you to leave him alone,” you argued back. 

“Who even are you?”

“His wife.” Nanami’s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. By now, the people at the booth had turned towards the three of you to observe the spectacle. Before the creep could counter your answer or ask you for proof, the booth’s owner spoke up. “Hey, you buyin’ or not? I have customers waitin’ who actually wanna eat!” 

The lady quickly tucked her tail between her legs and briskly walked out of the area. Never to be seen again. “Fucking hell, some people really need to learn about consent. You okay?” Nanami wanted to reply to you, but no words came out of his mouth. 

You had basically declared to the world that you were his wife. Well, not the world, but all eight people in the booth (excluding you two) believed that you were his wife! It probably meant nothing to them, but to him it was like you had hung the stars in the sky. 

“Ken?” 

Ugh, you said it again. 

“Yeah, I’m alright.” His eyes simply couldn’t look away from your spice-swollen lips. If you’re his pretend wife, then it’s okay for him to kiss you, right? 

He mentally slapped himself at that thought. If he was going to kiss you then it was going to be the real deal.

—

Honestly, I like it when reader protects the character. Like yes, come here, my 6’4 baby girl, I’ll beat that person up for you.

[lyjen]

Behind Closed Doors | Eddie Diaz

Summary: Two years ago, (Y/n) managed to escape her abusive, bad, drug business ex-boyfriend by snitching him. But now, after all she’s been through, he found her. He’s back and filled with rage. He decides to shoot his shot when (Y/n) is babysitting Chris as Eddie’s at work.

Request: @megafandomsxassemble

9-1-1 Masterlist

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(Y/n) smiled at the sight of Chris fastening towards the shelter where the jaguar lives in the Los Angeles zoo. Eddie’s fingers were intertwined with (Y/n)’s as they walked through the zoo, Eddie pressed his lips against the side of (Y/n)’s head. “It’s nice, seeing Chris happy” (Y/n) said as she glanced over at Eddie, who had his eyes locked on Chris.

“I haven’t seen him this happy in a while.” Eddie said without letting Chris out of his sight. “What about you? You’re happy to be back at work?” (Y/n) couldn’t help but ask.

Since Metro dispatch had been caught fire, Eddie finally got the chance to put on the turnout gear again, and he finally got back to the 118, he seemed happier. But it still would be nice to hear it from himself. “I’m not made for sitting behind a desk, making tweets and calling with journalists. The one eighteen is where I belong.” Eddie started as he now finally glanced back at her.

“I have a job that I love, a kid that I love, and an amazing girlfriend who I also love. So to answer your question: yes. I’m happy.” he continued as he ended his words with a smile he sent her.

They slowly walked closer to Chris, as the sound of a vibrating phone mixed with a ringtone started to fill her eardrums. She let her free hand open her bag, and fish out her phone while Eddie waited for her to decide if she wanted to answer or not.

“It’s Buck” she said as she looked over at Eddie, “Do you mind if I-?” she added as she motioned her head towards the phone. He shook his head, “No, sure.. go ahead. I’ll go and keep Chris some company.” Eddie said as the grip of his hand got looser, and their hands disconnected.

Not even a few seconds later Eddie was going towards Chris, and (Y/n)’s thumb clicked the green button to accept the call. She held her phone against her ear as she greeted her brother.

“Hey sis, I feel like this is a bad time to call, is it?” Buck sounded through the phone, she laughed at his sudden reaction. “No it isn’t, but it’s nice you’re still trying to use your twin abilities. Even though it never worked.” she answered her twin brother through the phone.

The Buckley family didn’t really count on two babies after they tried to save Daniel. But when the doctor checked, they found baby A and B. Another chance to save Daniel, that’s what they thought. But even though Buck was a match to his older brother, the bone marrow cells failed to graft causing a relapse of symptoms one year after the two were born.

“I was just calling to check on you, what are you up to today?” He asked, it was sweet of him to keep on checking on his sister every now and then. Even though they saw each other almost everyday. “Um, Eddie and I took Chris to the zoo. Ever since they’ve renovated it and fixed everything after the black out, he has been begging us to go.” she explained as she slowly scanned the environment she was in and paced back and forth.

“Can’t say no to the boy, can you?” Buck chuckled through the phone, making her laugh again. He knew his twin too well. “Yeah, it’s the puppy eyes he makes that wins me over. I don’t know about Eddie, I think he can handle it better than me.” she explained, as she looked at her feet and back into the scene she was in.

“You okay though? I mean it has been a while since you’ve been with someone since..” Buck stopped finishing his sentence. “You know who..” he added, he wasn’t going to say the name of her ex-boyfriend, it was like his name was cursed. It made her stop pacing around, and close her eyes for a second.

Blake.

That was the name he didn’t want to say or use.

Blake seemed like a good guy, and he was… at least until he had (Y/n) wrapped around his finger. No one knew what happened behind closed doors until (Y/n) managed to get out, and told the truth.

*

Arlington, Texas, US

“I’m sorry we barged into your house like that.” A male voice filled the interrogation room she was in, as he placed a cup of water in front of her. (Y/n) just looked at the man who was standing across from her, while she was sitting in a chair made of metal. Her hair was messy, she was wearing her oversized flannel, she basically looked like shit.

When the silence in the room became louder than the two persons, the man decided to break it, continuing his story. “We’re trying to locate your boyfriend, Blake Dyer.” he continued his last sentence.

Only hearing his name sent a shiver down her spine and her blood ran cold. Of course they were looking for him. Her mind screamed: red flags, red flags when she ever laid eyes on him. But something about him made her heart beat faster. Can you even call that a boyfriend? A guy that abuses you and hits you for every small thing you do wrong?

She swallowed as she looked down to her hands, pushing the fabric of the flannel sleeve over her fingers, hiding her skin, her anxiousness, her being scared for what was going to happen if he would’ve found out if she started talking to cops. What if Blake found out she was here instead of at home? He’d hurt her, not only with words.

She wanted to leave, but part of her desperately wanted to call out for help.

“(Y/n), do you have any idea where we can find him? Did he say anything? Talk to someone? Every little detail could help us.” The man leaned his back against the wall, as he tried to get something out of her.

“I don’t know” she whispered, barely audible. Her eyes were locked on her hands as she fidgeted the flannel fabric between her hands and fingers, everything to avoid eye contact with the man that was across from her. Making the man sigh, she wasn’t saying much, but at least he got something out of her.

“He’s hurting you, isn’t he?” he asked her, and that was the moment she locked eyes with the man immediately. She shook her head as if her life depended on it. Slowly, he stepped closer, “The bruises on your arms and the wound on the side of your head are telling me a different story.” he said, looking into her eyes. The fast reaction to his question, and the fear in her eyes spoke volumes.

She wanted to nod, so badly to the question he asked before, tell him everything she knew about him. But, what if they couldn’t find him and he found her instead?

“We can help you, (Y/n). Get you out of the city, state, anywhere, somewhere safe.” he said, as he couldn’t step any further forward because of the table. She didn’t know where to look, but when he told her that, she was intrigued.

This was it, this was her ticket out of the shit hole she had been in for months, unable to escape. Blake had been telling her she couldn’t leave, despite that, she had tried. Multiple times, but somehow every attempt, he found her. At some point he even broke her arm, and completely knocked her out.

“But we can only do that, if you help us.” he added as he moved past the table and crouched down to be on the same height as her. He could see she was thinking, weighing the pro’s and con’s, the thousand scenarios in her head.

“I can give you some time to think about it.” he offered, but when he said that she shook her head like she was trying to give herself a concussion. “No-” she said a bit too loud, as she cleared her throat. “I’ll help, but you have to promise me that he can never find me.” she answered.

The man pressed his lips into a thin line, trying to tell her without any words that she was doing the right thing. “You help us, and we’ll help you. I promise.” the man held out a hand. For a second she hesitated, but she pushed her arm through the sleeve from the flannel, and gave the man a hand.

He gave her a small nod, “So what can you tell us about Blake Dyer?”

She told them everything.

*

It wasn’t until a loud sigh left her mouth, when she remembered that name. “I’m.. okay” she told Buck through the phone. She had been going to therapy a lot since she fled from Texas and came to California. The police had helped her get out of Arlington, and out of Texas. This whole entire story about Blake ended about two years ago.

And that’s how she ended up in Los Angeles, luckily she didn’t end up living on the couch at her brother’s place. But a small home she rents with help from the Texas police.

“Are you sure?” Buck’s voice sounded concerned as he heard her voice through the phone. She was happy her brother was checking on her and her feelings, something they both had missed when she was with her ex in Texas.

“Yes.. Buck, it’s not like you have to check up on me every time you drop that name. He’s in the past, I’m not in Texas anymore.” She told him she was okay and she didn’t lie, but that weird tingly feeling inside of her stomach every now and then when someone dropped that name, wouldn’t go away.

“Okay, okay.. excuse me for being actually concerned about my sister.” Buck reacted at her words. “But tell me, things between you and Eddie..?” he continued, he wanted to make sure she wouldn’t over step her own boundaries, not that he didn’t trust Eddie, but she was wounded, hurt. And she took the time to heal, but it was scary for her to just step back into something new, when she didn’t really know what true love was. How do you know if you can truly trust someone? How do you know if he’s the one, when someone before him completely broke you mentally and physically?

“We are fine, we talked together, and both agreed we are going to take things my speed.” she said softly, as she nodded to herself that she was doing good. ��Baby steps” she added to the sentence. She couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Chris and Eddie being together, looking at the information sign of the animal.

“Oh he better, because I swear if he pushes you, making you go over boundaries, I’ll beat his ass, maybe even kill him.” She laughed at her brother’s words, he was determined to keep his sister safe now. He missed the signs back then, and he wasn’t going to let anything happen to her now that they had found each other again. Her eyes were now focussed on her feet as she turned on her heels, continuing pacing through the small part of the zoo she was.

Her eyes wandered from her feet, up to the connected paths of the zoo. But instantly, her stomach turned at the sight of one of the ten maybe hundreds of people walking through the zoo. It was like when you suddenly hear your name being called by a teacher to speak in front of the class, when you’re incredibly shy.

Know that feeling? That’s exactly the one she had at this point.

Maybe she was starting to hallucinate after he was brought up again, and this was all playing in her head. A guy, who looked just like Blake, walked by. Maybe it was Blake? No, it couldn’t be. Maybe some kind of döppleganger? Blake couldn’t be here, he was in prison for at least seven years with all the evidence they found back then.

Only two years had passed. This wasn’t possible. This had to be a look alike.

The questions were instantly running through her mind as her brother kept on talking to her on the phone.

The shock of seeing some döppleganger, made her instantly look in another direction. But when all of those questions were running through her mind, and she tried to answer part of them, being sure that it wasn’t him, she looked back to double check.

But he wasn’t there. He was gone. Was she imagining things?

Panic was starting to creep into her chest and mind, as she looked around to see if she could find the guy again.

“You should see Chris-” Buck was telling his sister about how Chris is starting to become a real architect because of one of the projects he needed to make for school. But (Y/n) wasn’t listening anymore. “Hey Buck, I’ll call you back okay?” she said, and lowered the phone in her hand. “What? oh yeah, sure-” His voice was audible as the phone made its way down. Before Buck could end his sentence, he got hung up.

She shoved her phone back into her purse not even a second after she ended the call as she fastened her steps towards Eddie who was still with Chris.

“Eddie?” The sound of (Y/n)’s voice sounded through his eardrums. Eddie could tell only by hearing her voice that something was up, her breathing was fastened. He glanced at her as he looked to his side, she seemed upset.

Eddie turned himself towards her, fully facing her now as he had his right hand on the shoulder of his son.

“Hey, is something wrong? Who called-” A worried look was spread over Eddie’s face as he looked at the girl, trying to keep her cool, but it almost looked like she could have a panic attack any moment now. “Can I borrow you for a second?” she asked, as loud as a whisper.

She didn’t want to start spilling her guts when Chris was next to them, trying to enjoy the zoo animals in the area. Eddie nodded, “Sure.. just one second.” he said as he held up his index finger. He turned to Chris who was still fascinated by the animal on the other side. “Hey bud, we’ll be right there if you need us. Stay here for me, okay?” he said as he leaned his head next to Chris’.

“Okay” Chris simply said as his eyes were focussed on the animal, practically drowning in the sight or maybe drowning in fascination. Eddie gave his son a small pat on his shoulder as they took a few steps back, not too far away from Chris, but far enough so he wouldn’t hear the conversation.

She stopped as she placed her face in the palm of her hands and sighed. Eddie stopped in front of her, as he waited for her to start the conversation she wanted to have so badly. After a few counts she disconnected her hands from her face. “Maybe I’m hallucinating, or maybe I am not and.. ” she gasped as she avoided eye contact with him.

“And you’re probably going to say I sound insane.” she rattled as her mouth was moving faster than her mind. “I’ll decide for myself if you sound insane. Now, what’s wrong?” He asked softly, as he grabbed one of her hands and rubbed his thumb on the inside of her hand, trying to calm her down.

“I was on the phone with Buck, he was checking in on me like almost every other day. But then, his name popped up again. And I… thought I saw him.” she didn’t rattle this time, it was still a little bit faster than a usual sentence, but the touch of Eddie helped her calm her nerves a bit.

His eyebrows furrowed at her words, “Who?” She kept referring to “him”, Eddie knew all about her story from the beginning to the end and all the details in between. “Blake” she whispered, as she suddenly looked around like somebody was going to shoot her at any second now. “What? I thought he was in jail? And in another state, right?” He said.

“But I swear I saw him standing right there.” (t/n) said and pointed at the exact same location she saw him earlier. Eddie’s eyes follow her finger as he scans the entire scene they were in, it was like he was hunting for monsters in Chris’ room when he was younger. “(Y/n)..” her name fell off his lips, as he looked back at her, his thumb still tracing over the palm of her hand.

“You think I'm insane don’t you?” She concluded before he could say anything else, as she pulled her hand from his touch.

“No, no, no that isn’t what I’m saying.” Eddie Saïd as soon as she turned her back to him and placed her hand on her forehead. “I just-..” Eddie continued, stumbling. How was he going to say this? He needed her to get out of her own head.

She turned back around, facing her boyfriend again. “Listen, he’s behind bars for at least seven years, that’s what the officer told you back then. Only two years have passed now, and besides that, he’s not going to be able to find you. They covered your tracks back there and they knew what they were doing.” He told her as she was still a bit overwhelmed and stressed.

She wasn't focussed on anything he told her, at least that's what it looked like. But she was listening. Eddie’s hands reached out for her shoulders, as he placed both his hands on it.

“You’re still processing your trauma, and you will be maybe for your entire life. Hallucinations are part of that too. Believe me, I still have them too from the army and it sucks.” Her eyes were locked onto his as his words entered her ears. One of the hands that was on her shoulders, moved from her shoulder to her own hand.

He gently grabbed her hand, “But I’m here with you. I’m real.” He said, and placed her hand onto his own chest, as one last attempt to calm her down.

It's quiet for a moment as (Y/n) didn’t know what to do. “Eddie.. I-” she stumbled as Eddie stopped her mid sentence. “Just focus on my heartbeat okay?” He said as she nodded.

It looked weird for every single person passing by, but yet it did something calming to her. Her breathing became slowly normal, and the panic that was rushing through her veins left her body. “Good?” Eddie softly asked as he noticed her body became less and less tense.

She let out one last loud sigh, with her eyes closed as the sound of Eddie’s voice entered her ears, “You’re safe.”

______

(Y/n) pressed the freshly washed shirt to her chest as she folded it and placed the t-shirt in the laundry basket. The tv was playing in the background as she continued folding the other pieces of just washed and dried laundry, that was on one big pile lying next to her on the couch.

She glanced at the clock in the living room. It was getting late, Eddie was on shift since early in the morning, and wasn’t coming home until the next morning: he was on a twenty four hour shift.

While Eddie was on shift, (Y/n) agreed to stay over at Eddie’s place to look after Chris. (Y/n) didn’t mind, it gave her the time and place to get to know his son when he wasn’t around. Sometimes Chris and (Y/n) would play video games together, and other times they would have a movie night.

But that wasn’t the case right now, Chris was upstairs doing his homework as (Y/n) was doing some chores. It made her feel useful, she didn’t just want to sit her ass down and scroll through her phone or watch trash television.

(Y/n) fished a navy blue t-shirt from the pile, as she tried to undo the shirt from the ball form. But the second she wanted to fold the t-shirt, a loud sound sounded from what she guessed was the kitchen. She was startled by the sudden sound and she was standing upright, old habits.

She had spent years being wary of every little sound from outside. That’s why she had cameras installed outside her home, and a 360 camera inside her home. Just to give her a feeling of security.

She scanned the entire scene she was in, and her eyebrows furrowed as another sound was coming from the exact same location. It couldn’t be Chris, right? If he came down stairs she should’ve noticed it. Cautiously she made her way towards the staircase, with every step she took, she scanned the environment, so she could see any changes if there were any.

When she reached the start of the stairs, she cleared her throat, “Chris you’re doing okay?” she asked not too loudly, she needed to know if he was upstairs or not. Her soft voice sounded through the house.

“I just started with math homework” Chris answered her question. She felt the anxiety rising on the inside of her body, Chris wasn’t the one she was hearing. It was something else. It made her stumble over her words as she tried to stay calm towards Chris. “Oh okay, If you need any help, just ask.” She told him as she felt her hands starting to sweat. “I will, thank you.”

She let out a deep breath as she made her way towards the kitchen, trying to find the source of the sound. (Y/n) stopped at one of the walls that were connected to the kitchen, placing her shoulder against the wall as she peeked along the wall, into the kitchen.

All of the curtains were closed in the kitchen, and the doors and windows were closed and locked. But her eye fell on the shadow that was visible on the backdoor of Eddie’s house. The curtain was right in front of it, but it looked like someone was trying to break into the house. Someone was trying to pick the lock.

(Y/n) fished her phone from her pocket, as she started searching for the app to see the live feed of the camera in the backyard Eddie had installed. He might not have been a fan of camera’s, and smart equipment, but it was important for him that his girlfriend felt safe in his house. And if that meant that Eddie had to install one or two camera’s around the house, he’d push his own feelings aside and did that for her.

She selected the app and waited for it to get the feed. The sound of someone trying to pick the lock was still continuing as she opened the live feed of the camera. At first, she couldn’t see anything since the person was wearing a black hood. But then the person turned around and for one quick second.

(Y/n) paused the infra red camera and quickly started to investigate the person that was in the backyard. She zoomed in, but her heart dropped as soon as she saw the tattoo’s on the guy’s hand. The hand was covered in some weird wave tattoo, and the other hand were a compilation of multiple smaller tattoos.

Blake. He had found her, and was here to get his revenge.

Her hand immediately was placed on her mouth as she tried so hard not to make any sound. She had to get to Chris, and get him to hide. She had to call for help. She didn’t even think, and sprinted towards the staircase she was just a minute ago. She had to multitask at this point.

Just as she stepped onto the first step of the stairs, she tapped Eddie’s contact and placed the phone against her ear. She rushed up the stairs as she impatiently waited for Eddie to pick up his phone. But she gets send to voicemail. “Hey this is Eddie-” a grunt left her mouth as she clicked the red button to stop the call. “Fuck” she muttered under her breath.

He must be on a call, that’s why he wasn’t answering her.

She looked to her left as she saw Chris, his bedroom light shining into the hallway. Soundless as possible she tried to make her way to his room. She stepped into his room and closed the door behind her. Making Chris look confused at her as he dropped his pencil. “Chris, I need you to do something for me.” she said as softly as she could.

“What is it?” he asked her as he watched her move through his room looking for a good place to hide. “I need you to hide with me.” she said, as she opened the folding doors in his room, opening his closet where his clothes hung.

“What?” Chris asked then, looking like she had gone insane. “Listen, I don’t have much time to explain. But someone is breaking into the house.” (Y/n) explained as she came closer to him and lowered herself to his height. “I know it sounds scary, but I’ll be with you the entire time.” she continued.

Chris nodded, “Okay” he said as he stood up from the chair and (Y/n) assisted him to get into the closet. Chris sat down in the corner of the closet as (Y/n) quickly, but soundless tried to turn off the lights. Like a jumpscare, her heart dropped when she heard the door downstairs click open.

When she managed to turn off the lights, she unlocked her phone that was still in her hand, and she tapped on Buck’s contact. Pressing the phone against her ear as she took place next to Chris, and closed the folding doors.

“Come on.. Pick up.” she mumbled as she grabbed a dark blanket out of one of the bags that were on the ground next to (Y/n) and placed it one handedly over Chris.

Eddie grabbed his phone from his pocket, as he let his turnout coat slide off his shoulders. and placed it back on the rack where he just had placed his helmet in too. “That fire was a beast” Eddie said as Buck finally made his way to the rack too and placed his helmet on it. “Another reminder why you should not infact store fireworks in your garage.” Buck laughed as a ringtone filled their ears.

Making Eddie check his phone, to see if anyone was trying to contact him. “Oh- (Y/n) tried to call me a few minutes ago.” he said as he waited for Buck to get his phone.

Buck immediately fished his phone out of his pocket as he felt the vibration in his right pocket where his phone was. He held his phone in his hand as he looked at the name who was trying to reach him. “Speaking of the devil” Buck laughed as he accepted the call and placed his phone to his ear.

“Buck. He found me. He’s here.” she blurted out in a whisper as softly as possible, hoping that the tv downstairs would compensate for the soft voice that came from the closet.

“Wow, wow, wow, slow down. What’s happening?” Buck asked as he tried to focus on his sister’s soft voice through the phone. The sobs through the words weren’t helping either. But the sound of her voice, and the cries, gave him a bad feeling the second he placed his phone to his ear.

“Blake is in the house. I’ve got Chris. Please. Get here now. I don't-” she sobbed as she placed her own hand in front of her mouth, trying to suppress the sound of her sobs.

The name he hoped to never hear ever again, fell off her lips, and that’s when he realized. He had found her. The back of Buck’s hand immediately flew against Eddie’s chest as he just looked confused. “Blake is in the house?” Buck repeated his name as he wanted some kind of confirmation. But he could only hear her muffled, quiet sobs and cries.

Buck’s mind was running a thousand miles an hour as he thought of all the kinds of scenarios that were going down right now. “Okay, (Y/n) I need you to hide and stay on the line until we get there okay?” He said, looking at Eddie as he nodded.

Eddie had a fire burning in his eyes as soon as he heard the name Blake and his location. She had been right about one week ago when they were in the Los Angeles zoo and she almost had a panic attack. Her abusive ex-boyfriend was back, and from what Eddie knew, about her telling the truth to the cops. He was sure Blake was back to get revenge.

His hands balled into fists as he squeezed them so tight together, his nails actually almost punctured through the skin on the inside of his hands as he made a sprint down the lower level of the station. He immediately aimed for Bobby, “Bobby I need to borrow the BC.” he said while thunder was projected onto his face.

Bobby was just looking at his phone, checking for any messages as Eddie stood right in front of him and dropped those words. And Eddie wasn’t asking. “Eddie what’s going on?” Bobby asked him as a frown appeared on his face. What ever just happened in those one or two minutes of time that he didn’t see the much younger firefighter, he went from neutral, to all worked up.

“Family emergency” he just answered, not getting into the details too much. Because even Eddie didn’t know what he was going to do if he’d get the chance to get his hands on Blake. But there was this fire burning on the inside of him, why was Blake back? Why couldn’t he just move on? Hell, why was he even out in the first place?

When Buck came rushing towards the two, Bobby could see the panic in his eyes. The kind he had never seen before. Sure he had seen Buck scared before, but this was different. Bobby switched looks between Buck and Eddie, “fine take the BC” he said, and not even a second after he finished his answer, they were already running towards the car.

“(Y/n) Hold on okay! We’re on our way!” Buck’s voice sounded through the phone as she pressed the phone closer to her ear, she pressed her lips tighter on each other as she heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she felt her heart trying to jump free from her chest.

She had to calm herself down, she didn’t want him to give away their hiding spot. And she certainly didn’t want to be the reason he found them, if something were to happen to Chris, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever be able to forgive herself. A warm hand was connected to hers as she closed her eyes for a second and looked down to her lap, trying to focus on her breathing.

(Y/n) glanced to her side, it was too dark to see, but she was sure Chris his hand was placed on hers, he was trying to help her. She couldn’t help but smile weakly through her tears, her phone was still connected to her ear and she heard Eddie was calling 9-1-1 while Buck was still on the phone with her. He knew she couldn’t talk back, but every now and then he told her their location, or to hold on, anything to soothe her.

She muted the audio from Buck and Eddie and placed the phone onto the floor in between Chris and herself. (Y/n) let her hand slide through Chris’ hair and pressed a kiss onto the top of his head, trying to soothe him and herself. She didn’t dare to say anything.

It was too quiet on the first floor they were on. But the second she thought that, she could hear the door of Eddie’s room next door open harshly, making the doorknob bouncing into the door. Followed by something made of glass falling down to the ground. She guessed that were the photo’s Eddie had in his room.

Every frame that fell into pieces made her flinch at the sound. The photo’s probably made him even more angrier. He had been in prison for the last two years, while she was just continuïng with her life, trying to rebuild it. While he had been suffering.

“(Y/n)!” Blake’s voice called out, “I know you’re here!” he added, he sounded aggressive as his words were being followed by another shatter of glass and a loud bang. The way her name left his mouth made a shiver roll down her spine, and made her even more terrified. She hadn’t heard his voice for months, years, but him screaming, made it even more real.

Secretly, she hoped this all was a terrible nightmare and she’d wake up any second by now. But no matter how hard she tried, the dream, or nightmare wouldn’t end. “You really think you can hide from me?” he laughed as (Y/n) heard the door open even more closer to them. He had opened Chris’ door. He was in his room.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” he continued calling out as (y/n) could hear the heavy footsteps walking over the creaking wood. Her hand was pressed over her mouth as she soundless helped chris underneath the blanket. Tears were blurring her vision, as she heard the footsteps coming closer and closer.

Just when the footsteps seemed to leave the side of the closet they were in, she inaudibly let out her breath she was holding. She looked at the small ball Chris was, almost morphing into the wall. He was doing so good, he was such a brave kid.

But she felt her heart drop as soon as she felt a grip around her ankle, and before she knew what was going on, she got dragged from the closet. A high pitched yelp left her mouth as she got dragged through Chris' room. “Missed me? Bitch.” he groaned as he kept on pulling her leg. (Y/n) tried to kick her free foot against his body to let her ankle go.

They left the room and the second she saw where he was heading, she grabbed the first wooden baluster from the staircase to stop him from pulling her down the stairs. She held on like this was her lifeline, as she felt her body almost split into two as Blake kept on pulling on her leg.

She screamed as she used all of her strength to keep a hold on the wooden baluster. But then, Blake dropped her body by letting go of her ankle.

The second he did this, she tried to get up. With emphasis on tried, because the moment she got onto her knees, a fist full of hair was being grabbed. The tears welled up spontaneously in her eyes as she felt the pain on her head. “Look at you now with your oh so perfect little life.” He said, as he slowly came closer to her face.

He glanced at the photos that were hanging on the walls of the small hallway. “I see you got yourself a new boyfriend, but I got some news for you.” he laughed as he yanked her hair down even more down, so had to look at the pictures on the wall and was facing Blake at the same time.

(Y/n)’s eyes watched Blake’s hand reach down to his pocket. Further than that, she couldn’t see since he was forcing her to look at his face. But a fast high pitched sound filled her ears. The sound of something metal.

“You’re leaving him.” he continued his sentence as he admired the object in his hand for a moment, keeping it out of her line of sight just a little bit longer. Tears were streaming down her face, mixed emotions, the feeling of her hair being pulled from her skull, the fact that she was facing her ex that she had betrayed by snitching him to the cops.

She was gasping for a breath as she tried to keep her emotions under control. She could smell his awful breath, as his face came close enough. He hushed her cries, “Ssh, it’s okay. I don’t want to end this right away. I just want to enjoy this moment a little bit more.” he said with a smile and a laugh. Blake placed the sharp metal he just fished from his pocket underneath her eye.

It was a knife.

Blake used the blade of the knife to wipe away one of her tears that were tracing down her cheeks. Making her heartbeat in her chest even more. “You took everything from me.” he started as he investigated the tear on his blade, mixed with some small hairs from her skin you’d be barely able to see with the naked eye.

“And now.. It’s time you pay it back.” he added as he scanned her entire body once more. “Only better..” Blake ended his words with a whisper and folded the knife again and placed into his pocket. He wanted to let her suffer even more than she already had now and he wasn’t just going to kill her off right here and now. Not when the party was just getting started.

Her lips were pressed into a thin line as she looked at Blake full with anger. She didn’t answer his words. But she couldn’t help but spit into his face, she had to get out of his grip. The hairs were starting to hurt even more and more. The spit splashed onto his face, and without saying anything, he forced her onto her legs, and yanked her head into one of the photo frames that were hanging on the wall.

His hands were still tangled into her hair as he banged her another time into a second photoframe. Blood was now dripping from her nose as the second time her nose touched the glass first instead of her forehead. “You thought you could run from me hm? You dirty snitch.” he groaned, as he grabbed her chin and cheeks with his free hand. Squeezing it like she was a little baby.

The blood from her nose was making its way down to her lips. She could taste the iron as she felt her entire world spinning in front of her eyes. He roughly pulled her on her hair once more and gave her a hard push, making her lose her balance.

(Y/n) tried to get a grip of the balustrade of the staircase, to stop herself from falling down. But she couldn’t. It felt like she was free falling for a second, but then, her back connected with the wooden stairs harshly. The moment she felt herself falling down the stairs, all she could think of, was protecting her face.

She held her lower arms in front of her face, trying to keep it from getting hurt even more. Her body harshly fell down every single step of the staircase. She could practically feel the bruises start to form themselves onto her body as gravity finally let go of her body.

Face down to the ground, belly touching the ground, she opened her eyes. It felt like she just got out of a merry-go-around from the playground when she was younger. Her entire world was spinning, and it almost made her vomit. She groaned as she slowly tried to pushed herself into the table pose like yoga.

Her ears were ringing but she could hear slowly, harsh, loud footsteps that were approaching her. Just when she thought she had the energy to stand into the table pose, a heavy foot was placed onto her back, pushing her right back where she was. Almost like she was in the army and the trainer wasn’t having it. Except, this wasn’t the army, this was Blake. The ex boyfriend who wanted her dead.

She gasped as her body fell flat onto the floor again. She just felt him making a small circle around her. But then, the side of her body was hit by a sharp, deep, pain. He kicked his foot into her side like she was a football. Making (Y/n) start coughing, and rolling automatically onto her side. (Y/n) let out an ear deafening scream as she tried to soothe the pain by pressing her hand onto the spot.

Nothing else left her mouth but groans of pain. Blake just let her suffer for a few more seconds as he kicked her once more, this time hitting her entire lower torso. “I hope snitching on me was worth it.” he said as he pushed her weakly, in pain body, so she was now on her back.

It felt like her head could pop off her body within a snap of a finger. Her eyelids were heavy, as she looked through a small gap to keep her eyes open. He stepped over her body, standing over her with one foot on each side of her body.

Blake crouched down above her as he grabbed a fist full of her shirt, pulling her partly up from the ground. When her eyes were met by his face again, she felt a raging fire inside of her, an instinct of survival.

She started to push and kick her way out of the position, she was so close to giving up. But felt like she didn’t do enough. She wanted to badly to poke her fingers into his eyes, but before she even touched his face, he roughly grabbed both her arms and pinned them down to the wooden floor.

She was too weak for this, why was it that she was so afraid to fight back? Everytime she heard his voice, it made her froze into her position wherever she was. She couldn’t say anything, couldn’t move. She just froze.

Blake let go of one of her arms as he moved from her arm to her neck, and squeezed her airway shut with every single piece of energy he had left in his hand. “You put me in jail..” he mumbled as his fist turned red around her neck.

The second hand left her other arm, and assisted in blocking her airway. “I’ll put you in your coffin.” he added. (Y/n)’s hands were trying to get between the skin of her neck and his hands. But he was way too strong.

Dots were dancing around her eyes as she gasped for a single breath. She was kicking her feet in agony and her face was slowly turning red, and going from red towards blue. She could feel herself fading away.

But then, the grip around her throat loosened as she saw through the little space of her eye lids, Buck and Eddie pushing him stomach first down to the ground. She didn’t have a clue what was happening as her senses almost shut down.

She couldn’t hear anything clearly as she was gasping for a breath, and this time it did enter her lungs. (Y/n) coughed at the dry air entering her airway as she rolled onto her side tightening her arms around her stomach. Everything in her body hurted.

(Y/n) was in so much pain, she didn’t even see Athena enter the room as she arrested Blake. The only thing she could hear vaguely was her name falling off Eddie’s lips. She saw his black work shoes and the blue trousers coming closer to her as she just kept on crying out in pain.

Eddie felt her screams and cries go through his marrow and bones. It made shiver roll down his spine as he turned on his heels and looked at his girl, all curled up on the ground.

He didn’t know where to look. Her head was full with little scratches and blood, and her nose looked like it was broken. Those were the visible details he could see as he stood there, frozen.

Everything was happening in slow motion, her cries, Athena escorting Blake out as he noticed Buck running up the stairs.

Something happened inside of Eddie’s brain, making him get out of his own brain he was locked in for a minute, and he placed his knees on the ground, next to (Y/n). “(Y/n)?” Eddie’s words came out of his mouth like he was on the edge of crying. He never wanted this to happen to her. To anyone.

It was a horrible sight to witness. He pressed his lips into a thin line to suppress the emotions he felt as he looked at her.

(Y/n) didn’t want to let go of her stomach, it did give her some kind of pain relief. But the second Eddie kneeled next to her, not knowing what to do with his hand, he grabbed one of her hands as the other one remained on her stomach.

“I-I couldn’t..” she stumbled through her sobs.

Eddie was afraid to even touch her, hell, he was even afraid to move her at this point. It was like the medic inside of Eddie had left his body, he didn’t know what to do.

Maybe this is what Bobby usually meant on scene by: you can’t work on your family. He never felt this before, not even with Shannon when she basically died in his arms.

A small sob left his lips as he placed one hand on (Y/n)’s forehead, “It’s okay..” he whispered, he didn’t mean it to come out like a whisper. But he couldn’t control it. “You did.. so good.” he added, he had to push out the words.

A feeling of guilt spread itself through Eddie’s body as he took in the picture right in front of him, once more. What if he stayed home? Maybe this wouldn’t have happened, or maybe it still did, but then he’d be there to protect the both of them, the people he loved.

He pressed a kiss on the back of her hand, trying to soothe her. “I-I..” she continued to stumble, but when Eddie let his eyes wander from their hands to her face, he could see (Y/n) was fading away.

Her eyes were trying to shut down, like she was falling asleep in front of the tv. “No, no, no. Hey, (Y/n) I know you’re tired.. but you have to stay awake.” he said as he gently tapped her on her cheek to keep her awake. Her eyes just slowly opened again.

He could tell she was having trouble with keeping herself conscious. Quick enough, her eyes were trying to close again, she nodded “I know” she mumbled under her breath. “I’m just..-” she continued mumbling, “tired? I know mi amor.. I know.” Eddie finished her words, the voice of him sounded in the back of her head. But Eddie could feel his heart skip a beat when he saw her head tilt to the side.

“(Y/n)?” Eddie’s voice was filled with terror and fear as he watched his girlfriend’s head tilt to the side, losing consciousness. Her name fell off his lips multiple times as he tried gently to wake her up again. His hands moved to her face, tapping against her skin. But there was no movement.

“Don’t do this to me!” words fell off his lips, more like a yell. He pressed his fingers against her neck to feel her pulse. It was racing like she had run a marathon and dropped to the ground. But that wasn’t the case.

Placed his face next to her mouth, he felt oxygen entering and leaving her mouth. She was still breathing.. for now. The medic inside of Eddie had to come back to think clearly. He needed to help her now that the paramedics weren’t here yet.

He could still hear her voice in his head, complaining about her abdomen. And with that thought in his head, he grabbed the lower part of her t-shirt and lifted it. Eddie’s eyes were locked onto the swollen abdomen mixed with a bloody red spot.

She was bleeding internally.

The shock was written all over his face as he felt a piece on the inside of him break down. “No, no, no..” he mumbled as he pulled the shirt even higher, to examine her even further. Her chest wasn’t as bad as her lower part. But when Eddie pushed her gently to her side, to catch a glimpse of her back, he stopped breathing for a second.

Her back was filled with bruises. “Where is that ambulance for fuck sake!” Eddie’s voice sounded through the hallway as he didn’t even dare to get his eyes off (Y/n).

“Come on (Y/n), don’t do this to me..” he mumbled as he looked at the unconscious face of his girl. “We didn’t have enough time.”

______

Eddie felt uncomfortable walking down the stark hospital hallway. He could hear his own shoes clapping faintly against the white perfect polished floor. He hated hospitals with his entire heart, they were full of memories he’d rather forget. (Y/n) was in the same hospital where Shannon passed away a few years back.

He opened the door to her room, as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Eddie paused for a second, taking in the environment around him, scanning the room. His eyes fell on (Y/n), motionless on the hospital bed. The only thing that was sounding through the room were the machines beeping softly, monitoring her vitals.

She was still alive, even though she barely made it to the hospital in time.

Eddie cleared his throat and took in a deep breath as he stepped closer. She had fought so hard, for herself but even more to keep Chris safe.

Eventually he sat down in the chair by her bed, his fingers gripping the armrests like they were the only things holding him together. He had so many things to say, but yet, no words were leaving his mouth.

He sighed loudly, “Mi amor, it’s me.” he said softly. He wanted to be strong, but the second he started talking his entire voice broke down. “I’m so sorry.” he added, as he placed one hand on his mouth, trying to keep himself from sobbing even more.

“I'm sorry I couldn’t protect you.” he continued his words. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “You have to wake up.” he sobbed as tears were starting to run down his face. “You can't leave, not now. Not like this.”

His mind replayed everything, from the moment he barged into the house together with Buck, tackling Blake. To the moment where he held her hand in the ambulance, almost losing her.

She coded in the ambulance. Her heart stopped, and Eddie couldn’t do anything. He just sat there, crying, on the small bench of the ambulance, looking at someone else to try and get her rhythm back.

The compressions went on and on, it felt like hours. They were still doing compressions on her when they rolled her into the ER, leaving Eddie with so many unanswered questions.

But they got her rhythm back, eventually. The doctors told him that she had an emergency surgery, that she was in critical condition. Leaving a hole inside of him.

Even though every single person in the room told him to go home, get a shower, get something to eat, he refused. He needed to be here when she woke up.

It has been days after the accident, her vitals were good, so the doctors decided to take her off the ventilator. He hasn’t been home in days, while Chris was staying with his abuela switching every now and then with Buck.

Even the nurses couldn’t get Eddie out of the room. The only reason he’d leave the room is to go to the toilet or get some food in the awful hospital cafeteria.

Eddie reached out for her hand, carefully he grabbed her hand, avoiding the IV line that was taped to her wrist. “There’s so much I haven’t said.” He started, “so many things I want to do with you.” He stayed focussed on their hands, desperate to feel some kind of reaction. Even if it was just a small squeeze.

His voice cracked as he shut his eyes tightly. Trying to get rid of the tears. “Chris needs you. Buck needs you. I need you.” his voice choked with emotion as he pressed her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss onto her skin.

“Chris has been asking about you..” “You promised him last week to take him to the cinema, remember? To see that new Marvel movie. You’re not going to break that promise, are you?”

“Because I think Chris would get upset when I go with him, I still don’t understand what happened to Captain America.” he let out a shaky breath as a small laugh left his mouth. The marvel movies was their thing, Chris and (Y/n).

Eddie let go of her hand as he leaned back, running a hand over his face again. The room was too quiet, the beeping of the monitors too loud in his ears.

He let out a shaky breath and stood up, starting to pace through the small room. He wasn’t used to this, standing by, powerless.

The soft creak of the door made Eddie come out of his own mind. He glanced over his shoulder, and that’s when he saw Christopher standing there with Buck on his side. Buck’s hand was placed on Chris’ shoulder as they stood in the doorframe.

"Chris?" Eddie said his name filled with confusion. What was he doing here? He was supposed to be with Buck, at home, gaming or doing his homework. "What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be at home." He asked as he switched looks between Buck and Chris.

Chris entered the room with Buck slowly following behind him. “I had to come. I need to see her.” He said, determined as he passed his dad. Eddie followed his son, as he made his way to the bedside of (Y/n).

Eddie’s expression was filled with confusion as he looked at Buck. “I’m sorry. I couldn't stop him.” Buck apologized. As they looked at Chris who was looking at (Y/n), lying unconscious in the bed.

Buck had been here everyday just like Maddie, checking on (Y/n), but also checking on their brother in law.

“Chris, you're not supposed to be in here. There aren’t kids allowed on the ICU.” Eddie told him as he folded his arms over each other.

“I don’t care.” Chris said as he switched looks from his dad to (Y/n). “She’s my friend too, dad. And I need to tell her something” he continued determined as he looked at her lifeless in the hospital bed he was standing next to.

Eddie wanted to argue, but when he saw the look in his son’s eyes made him sigh. He shrugged as he shook his head, he wasn’t going to be able to change his mind either. “Fine, but just for a minute.” He said as he kept his arms crossed.

Chris nodded as he looked at (Y/n) for a second, “(Y/n), it’s me. Christopher.” He said as he placed his hand onto her hand.

It was hard seeing and hearing his own son talking to her, but he used one hand to cover his mouth.

“I know you’re really hurt right now, but… you have to get better. You promised me you’d teach me how to make those brownies you always make. And you don’t break promises.” Chris said, making Eddie pressing his lips together into a thin line. Fighting the tears that were already streaming down his face.

“And.. because you make my dad smile, he doesn’t smile like that for anyone. You make him happy, so you have to come back.” Christopher continued, as slowly his voice grew more quiet by the word.

“You can’t leave.” He ended his words as he gave her hand a slight squeeze. He didn’t want to hurt her any more than she already had.

The room was quiet again when Chris had left the room and Buck took Eddie’s son back home. Eddie sat in the chair next to her bed, his head resting on his hand. As his eyes were heavy, like he could fall asleep any moment.

The constant beeps of the machines that were monitoring (Y/n)’s vitals were sounding through his ears. Eddie hadn’t slept in days, except for some power naps, but you really couldn’t call those a goodnight sleep.

“Chris has been making you drawings, he said he’s going to bring you one tomorrow.” Eddie said as a small smile appeared on his face at the thought. His voice sounded rough, must been the lack of sleep.

Eddie pushed himself forward, brushing his fingers across her hand. “I’m sure he will not stop making new drawings until you wake up. So you better wake up soon or he’ll use them to wallpaper your room.” He added as a small laugh left his mouth.

He stared at the monitors, that was the only response he got. He sighed as he leaned back into the chair again, this was going to be just another day like the past ones.

But then, there was movement.

It was so silent in the room, Eddie could hear the change in ambience. (Y/n)’s fingers twitched against the blanket. The sound of her skin moving over the fabric made him stand up next to her bedside immediately.

“(Y/n)?” He breathed as he wrapped his hand around hers. Her eyelids fluttered open weakly.

“Hey, (Y/n) it’s me.” He whispered with a trembling voice. “I’m right here baby”

Her eyes opened, unfocused, but then her eyes locked on him. Confusion written all over her face, her lips parting slightly as she wanted to talk.

"Hey," he said gently, leaning closer. "You’re safe." He continued as he tried to read her face.

“Chris?” her voice barely above a whisper.

Relief was written over his face, as he couldn’t help to let out a small laugh. Of course, that was the one person she immediately thought of. She kept him safe at all costs. “He’s safe. Blake’s back where he belongs.”

Tears were pouring down his cheeks, but this time it wasn’t sadness. Pure happiness. Relieve. “Jesus, (Y/n), you scared the hell out of me."

She swallowed loudly, “Sorry..” she mumbled.

“No, no, no. Don’t apologize. Just.. don’t ever scare me like that again.” Eddie said as he squeezed her hand.

She groaned at the pain she felt in her entire body, mostly at her stomach. A small ouch, falling off her lips as she touched her stomach. “What-?” she stumbled.

“Internal bleeding, your heart stopped for like three minutes. They had to rush you into an emergency surgery,”Eddie explained.

“You stayed here?” She then asked as she scanned the room and spotted multiple bags in the room. He nodded. “Of course I did.” He said as he brushed a strand of hair from her face and pushed it behind her ear.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me (Y/n)” he told her, with a small smile on his face. She let out a breathy chuckle, barely audible but enough to make Eddie’s heart make a jump of happiness.

“I love you.” The words left her mouth weakly and slow. Eddie couldn’t help but let the smile grow bigger on his face, “Te amo, mi amor.”

[betweenstorms]

Hi hello, hope you're having a good day Stormy! Your writing is always so good sjdjsjd always makes my day when I have the chance to read em! Not sure if you take requests, so if you don't, you can always ignore this! But I have a pretty interesting prompt that might pique your interest 👀

We all know Simon doesn't show emotions easily, usually the people very close to him will spot out the minute details that give away how he's feeling. Small twitch of the lips, tense of shoulders, that kind of thing. But how about reader who is slightly different, in that they also don't show emotion that well, but it's because they forget to? Sounds confusing I know, but for me I forget my mouth exists and constantly forget to smile at people when greeting them. So for reader, the only way others know how they're feeling is with the tone of their voice.

Hope that isn't too confusing to understand! It's a very weird thing I have, and have not encountered anyone else who share this lmao

Anywayyy have a great rest of your day, and remember to hydrate and eat something! 🖤

- Biscuits 🌺

Hi Biscuits! 🌺 First of all, thank you so much for your kind words! I’m so sorry it took me this long to reply, but I’m excited to let you know that my interpretation of your idea is finally here! I hope you’ll enjoy it as much as I enjoyed exploring such a unique and fascinating prompt. I hope you’re having a wonderful day, and don’t forget to hydrate and eat something too! Thank you again for trusting me with your idea. 🖤

You didn’t need to look up to know the weather outside was a dreary shade of grey.

Strangely, it was always just grey here. Overcast skies that seemed to stretch endlessly over the joint military base somewhere in Germany, as though nature itself had resigned to a dull monotony. Not that it bothered you. Weather, much like people, had a way of projecting its moods that you’d long stopped trying to interpret. Clouds could loom ominously, sunlight could break free in radiant streaks, but it all felt the same to you.

Emotions were like that too.

Amorphous, indistinct, slipping through your grasp when you tried to name them. For as long as you could remember, you’d lacked the innate ability most people seemed to have, the quick flick of recognition when faced with a scowl, a smile, or a furrowed brow. You saw the movements of mouths and brows but couldn’t place what they were supposed to mean.

To you, the dance of expressions was no more than a series of movements, the subtle lift of lips or tilt of a head stripped of the weight they were meant to carry. And so, your own face reflected the only truth you understood. Your own face usually mirrored the neutrality of the weather, a blank slate that rarely shifted unless you consciously willed it to.

Price and Gaz were out on a recon mission, leaving Soap, Ghost and you on the foreign base. With no immediate orders other than to wait for their return, the three of you had the rare luxury of downtime. However, despite this, none of you strayed from your usual discipline. The day began at dawn, as always, with the shooting range, gym sessions, or reviewing intel as needed. The quiet efficiency of your routines spoke volumes about the kind of people you all were, professionals through and through. There were no shortcuts at this level, no slacking off. You were the best of the best after all.

Each of you carried that mantle in your own way.

Soap’s energy crackled like a live wire, his easy laughter and constant chatter an antidote to the grim seriousness of your world. Ghost, by contrast, was the anchor—silent, steadfast, a figure carved from stone. And you? You found yourself somewhere between them, detached yet watchful, a quiet observer tethered by a relentless need to prove yourself.

You liked working with Ghost in a way that was difficult to articulate, even to yourself. There was no camaraderie in the traditional sense, no banter or easy companionship, but strangely, there was something deeper, something unspoken.

Your lieutenant moved through the world with the same deliberate calm that you valued in yourself, his every action sharpened by precision and purpose. You respected him for that, his unrelenting dedication, the quiet strength he carried like a shield, and the way his presence seemed to command gravity itself, pulling the air taut whenever he entered a room. And somehow, Ghost felt like a reflection, as though the world had cut both of you from the same cloth. He, too, was a figure cloaked in neutrality, his mask hiding not just his face but the emotions that might lie beneath.

Even with the lull in operations, you didn’t take the task force’s trust for granted. You had fought hard to earn your place here, shedding blood and sweat to prove yourself to Price and the rest of the team. The task force was a strange paradox—these were people you trusted implicitly with your life, but you knew almost nothing about them on a personal level. That was just how things worked. Bonds forged in war zones didn’t require knowledge of favorite foods or childhood dreams. Still, you couldn’t deny a small, nagging curiosity about the men you worked with—especially Soap and Ghost.

Both were enigmas in their own ways.

Soap, all charm and humor, seemed to wear his heart on his sleeve, yet you suspected there was more to him beneath the surface. Ghost, on the other hand, was a locked vault, his emotions buried under layers of stoicism and a mask that seemed to shield more than his face. 

You had been with the task force for four months now.

It had been an honor to receive Price’s invitation, and though you felt pride in your accomplishments, showing it outwardly had always been a challenge. Ever since childhood, you’d struggled with recognizing and expressing emotions.

Your family had always been understanding, brushing it off as an eccentric quirk, and you’d never sought a formal diagnosis. It wasn’t that you didn’t feel, far from it. You just didn’t show it in the usual ways. Smiling, frowning, or even appearing annoyed often felt like trying to mimic a foreign language without understanding the grammar.

As a child, you were always the odd one, the kid who stared too long, too intently, when other children laughed and cried. Your parents, to their credit, were patient. Your mother, warm and pragmatic, would gently remind you to smile when greeting your grandmother or reassure you when a relative’s frown went unnoticed. “They’re not cross, love,” she’d say, her hands light on your shoulders. “Just thinking. You’re fine.”

But the world wasn’t as kind as your family.

As you grew, the peculiarities of your face invited suspicion, sometimes ridicule. “Why don’t you ever smile?” teachers would ask, their tone suggesting you were withholding something from them, as though joy was a currency you refused to spend. Friends, when you had them, would mistake your silence for coldness, your neutrality for indifference. By the time you reached your teens, you’d grown used to the questions and assumptions, building an armor of pragmatism around yourself. What was the point in trying to explain something you didn’t fully understand?

Somehow, your body simply forgot the script.

You forgot to move your lips when greeting a loved one, forgot to furrow your brows when confusion took hold, forgot to cry when sadness settled heavy in your chest. It wasn’t that you didn’t feel. Feelings bloomed and churned within you like storms on a distant horizon, but they never found their way to the surface. You were a house with locked shutters, and though the light was on inside, it rarely spilled out to illuminate the exterior.

Oddly enough, this trait had become an asset in your line of work.

Pragmatic, objective, and unshaken by emotion, you excelled in high-pressure environments. It was this armor that had served you so well in the military and later in the SAS. Neutrality was an asset here—a foundation upon which precision, discipline, and logic could thrive. Emotions muddied decisions, and in your line of work, clarity was king. When the invitation to join Task Force 141 had come, you’d accepted with quiet pride, though you’d made no effort to show it. Your calm, measured responses made you reliable and efficient, qualities that had undoubtedly caught Price’s attention.

But outside of missions, it created a distance between you and the rest of the team. Building camaraderie required a kind of emotional fluency you didn’t naturally possess, and though you didn’t dwell on it much, it sometimes left you feeling a little isolated.

Four months in, you’d cemented your place among the team.

They trusted you on the battlefield, and that was enough. Personal bonds were optional here, weren’t they? You’d told yourself that many times, but the truth was harder to swallow, trust in war didn’t translate to understanding in peace. Soap’s boisterous banter, Gaz’s easy charm, and Ghost’s impassive stares all existed in a language you couldn’t quite speak.

This morning, however, was different.

Breakfast was normally a solitary affair, a brief respite from the day’s structured chaos. But today, Soap and Ghost had joined you in the mess hall, their presence sat heavy at your periphery. You sat across from them, meticulously working through your meal while Soap tapped his fingers on the table in a rhythm that suggested trouble. Neither of them was eating, and their idle presence felt vaguely unsettling.

It didn’t take long for your suspicion to be confirmed.

“Y’know,” Soap began, his voice lilting with mischief. “Been meanin’ to ask you somethin’, lass. How’s it possible to sit there, day in, day out, with a face that doesn't move? Like a bloody mannequin, you are.”

You raised a brow, a slight, subtle motion that could have meant anything, but didn’t stop eating. Soap took this as an invitation to continue.

“You don’t smile,” he declared, as though it were a groundbreaking revelation. “Or frown. Or even twitch your face half the time. How d’you do that, eh? Are you secretly a robot?”

“I’m not a robot,” you replied, your tone flat but perfectly even.

He leaned back, shaking his head with mock disbelief. “Could’ve fooled me. You’re like a statue, don’t even look annoyed when I’m talkin’ shite at you. Bet you couldn’t make a face to save your life.”

You paused, setting down your fork with deliberate precision.

“I can make faces,” you said coolly.

“Aye, then let’s have a wee go at it. Give us a smile, eh?” Soap’s lopsided grin widened, and he glanced at Ghost, who remained silent but was now clearly paying attention, his hazel eyes flicking toward you. You blinked at them, debating whether it was worth the effort to argue.

Instead, you attempted to comply.

The corners of your mouth lifted in what might have passed for a smile if not for the stiffness in the gesture. It felt awkward, like wearing someone else’s skin.

Soap slapped the table, his laugh booming across the hall. “Creepin’ Jesus, that’s tragic! Like watchin’ a bairn try to wink for the first time.”

“Better than watchin’ you try to think,” Ghost deadpanned, not missing a beat.

Undeterred, Soap straightened up. “All right, fine. Forget smilin’. Show us angry.”

You weren’t bothered by Soap’s teasing, not at all.

Sarcasm and banter weren’t your battlefield, and you didn’t need to win these small wars of wit. If anything, you found his energy oddly endearing, a welcome distraction in the quiet monotony of downtime. So you furrowed your brow and narrowed your eyes slightly, aiming for something approximating irritation. Soap burst into another peal of laughter, throwing his head back and letting it roll out uninhibited.

“Honestly, you’re hopeless,” he howled, tears of laughter glistening in his eyes.

Ghost sighed, setting his tablet down with deliberate care.

“Enough, Johnny.”

Soap held up his hands in mock surrender, his grin lingering like a spark refusing to fade, but your attention had already wandered, your gaze tracing their movements like studying a map of familiar terrain. Soap’s restless energy hummed, his gestures loose and unrestrained, a stark contrast to Ghost’s deliberate stillness, every shift of his body a calculation.

And then his hazel eyes met yours—sharp, unflinching, and so steady it rooted you in place. There was no hostility, no question, only a quiet intensity that made your pulse stutter, a strange, warm stirring low in your stomach that you didn’t dare acknowledge. His gaze held you captive for a beat too long, the air around you heavy, before he turned away, leaving behind a weight you didn’t fully understand but couldn’t quite shake.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said, his voice lower now, more measured. “Faces lie. It’s your voice that tells the truth.”

You blinked. “My voice?”

Ghost nodded, leaning back slightly. “You can hear it. If you listen proper. More honest than any forced smile could ever be.”

For a moment, you didn’t know what to say.

Compliments, if that’s what this was, were scarce in your world, as rare as sunlight piercing through storm clouds. From Ghost, they were practically unheard of. Yet his words lingered, carrying a weight that pressed gently against the walls of your chest. A quiet warmth began to unfurl there, blooming softly like a flame coaxed from dying embers, a mixture of gratitude and something unnamed, something that settled in the hollow spaces you hadn’t realized were waiting to be filled.

Soap, visibly startled by the uncharacteristic remark, stared at Ghost as though he’d grown a second head. “Bloody hell, Lt.,” he muttered. “Didn’t know ye had a poetic streak.”

Your lieutenant paid him no mind, his focus already returning to the tablet in his hands, as if the moment had never existed. But you remained still, the weight of his words draping over you like a thick, unshakable cloak. Honest. The word lingered, unfamiliar yet strangely resonant, threading itself into the quiet spaces of your thoughts, where it settled with unexpected ease. Soap broke the moment with a playful nudge to your shoulder.

“Still, you could do with learnin’ a proper smile, eh? Just in case.”

Your eyes rolled, an instinctive motion this time, unbidden but oddly fitting. Soap’s laughter rippled through the room, bright and careless, but it barely registered, a distant echo against the steady hum of your thoughts. Ghost’s words lingered, heavy with meaning, a rare compliment that pressed itself into the quiet corners of your mind with a significance that eclipsed anything you’d ever known. Perhaps, you mused, letting the warmth of the moment settle over you, it wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

Maybe that was something you could finally understand.

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 6.9 K Warnings: none Prompt: Why is it that potions is always so problematic? Not proofread

Chapter 68: Mysteries and Mayhem

Friday, 14th, 1977

“I think we have to tell her,” Evan said as he threw the quaffle towards the canopy of the bed and caught it again. 

“We don’t have to tell her anything,” Barty retorted. He was working on Evan’s desk and had his back to him. He always revised Evan’s essays since Evan had mild dyslexia and a tendency to confuse the names of some ingredients along with the position of TH and HT at the end of some words. Evan was brilliant at Potions, but the memoir writing had always been tricky for him. 

“She would tell us if she knew about something like this,” he said as he caught the ball and threw it upwards again. Regulus’ snitch was floating around the room since it had accidentally gotten out from its chest when Evan opened it to take the quaffle. It always helped him destress to play with it, but he never bothered with the snitch, he thought it was too small and a pain in the ass to chase.   

“She wouldn’t tell us shit,” Barty responded. “She doesn’t like to meddle.” 

“But she has meddled, and in our favour, you know this!” 

“Please stop it with the quaffle,” Barty said with a sigh. Evan stopped throwing it and placed it on the side of the bed, now rolling it around with his hand. “It’s none of our business what they do behind closed doors. And we would be outing those two if we told her.” 

“How would you feel, I was cheating on you with Dorcas?” 

“I’d break her neck,” Barty retorted without hesitation.

Evan wasn’t entirely sure if he meant it as a joke or not, but chose to believe he did. “Right, see? She should know!” 

“She’s the dumb one for not noticing.” 

“It is not something you normally expect. Especially not if you were born in the wizarding elite.” 

“Evan,” Barty whined. “Why should we care? We’ve done our good deed of the century by shutting stupid Severus up about it.” 

“I’m gonna tell her,” Evan said with determination. 

“And you’ll just accomplish what Severus wanted.” 

“I know you don’t like her–” 

“You don’t like her either.” 

“Well, she’s conceited and loves to rub how good she is at flying but… I never expected her to help me the way she did.” 

“So what? You’re gonna go braid each other’s hair, is that it?” Evan threw the quaffle at Barty’s head, the latter got the hit unexpectedly and turned around to him as he gasped. “You’re such a git! I’m trying to check your homework.” 

“You’re no better,” Evan retorted. “It’s just– I wouldn’t want people laughing behind my back.” 

“Maybe she knows and they’re using her as a cover,” Barty said, although he didn’t believe it.

“Impossible. She’s for sure in love with that dick. I mean I knew he was an asshole but–”  

“Not to the point of using someone like that?” Barty offered. “I think we really shouldn’t meddle. We’ve somehow reached a ceasefire, you don’t want to start shooting again, do you?”

“She helped me! Even after the fire, my dad seemed pleased at the insinuation that we– you know.”  

Barty sighed, standing from the desk and walking towards his bed, the same bed Evan considered as his own most of the time. “If you really want to tell her, then I’ll come along with you.” 

Evan smiled and lifted himself up to press a short kiss on Barty’s lips. As they were pulling apart the door busted open and Barty appeared a book on his lap and started saying something about a spell. 

“It’s just Regulus,” Evan said as he tilted his head to the side. “Didn’t you see the busy sign on the door?” 

“I did,” Regulus responded. “Decided to ignore it, though.” 

“I swear it runs in the family,” Evan said with an eye roll. He liked Regulus, but that didn’t stop him from thinking he was a bit of an entitled prick, much like his brother. 

And Evan himself, according to Barty. Who in turn, was also considered one by the rest of his class. Either way, they consider themselves an acquired taste, after all, Evan had hated Barty’s guts before falling in love. 

“Shhh...” Regulus said as he lifted his hand. “I think I hear something?”

“What?” Asked Evan.

“The sound of two tossers who are about to go use someone else's room to make out.” 

“Bitch,” Barty said as he threw the quaffle his way.

Regulus was fast enough to dodge and then noticed his snitch floating around. “For Salazar’s sake! How many times have I told you not to let the Little Star out?” 

“Little Star?” Evan asked. 

“The snitch,” Retorted Barty a little exasperated. 

“You named your snitch little star?” Evan asked in disbelief. “Is that because you’re the big star? You’re such a nerd!” Regulus flipped his wand, the green covers on Barty’s bed slipped from beneath him and threw him on the floor. “A mean nerd.” 

Fridays could have been your favourite day of the week, your first class was at 9 rather than at 7, which meant you didn’t have to wake up remarkably early, even if you were still doing practice flying with James and Sirius. And although classes didn’t end early, your last class was among your favourites, and the one before lunch was Magic Theory, which meant more time to spend playing around. The real problem was the 9 am class, divination. 

You’d gotten used to Spellman, and it seemed like he had also gotten used to you. The pressure that he seemed to be putting on you at the beginning of the course had slowly dissipated, and even if you still had good grades in his class, since you’d seen most divination techniques with your previous teacher, he seemed to focus a lot more on Sybil, which you were insanely grateful for.

And unlike you, Sybil seemed to actually want to pursue a career in divination, which Spellman supported as dutifully as any good teacher would. 

“Hey!” She said as you walked inside. You had a bottle of almost boiling green tea in hand since the day had been pretty chilly while flying and even after Lily cast that warming charm over your coat, you were still shivering slightly. 

“Hi!” you retorted with a smile as you sat beside her. Since that one class when you’d gotten paired, you had been working together on every single class, which you thought was excellent. 

Sybil’s father, Deplhus Trelawney, was an unofficial member of the order, and he’d told Sybil what’d happened at the party. Besides, it didn’t take an empath to notice how it had flipped your world almost upside down. So she avoided the basic “How did your break go?” question since she knew it would be a terrible one. It was obvious that it had gone mostly like shit. It did make her feel better that you looked like you were coping, whoever it was that you were. 

“Want some tea? It’s got a little bit of milk.” 

“Sure,” she said with a smile and pulled a mug from the cupboard. Those were technically for divination, but some students used them every once in a while for their morning coffee, and since that was the one thing that kept some awake, Spellman allowed it. As you served she noticed the wand you’d placed on the side of your desk. She stared at it for a second and then turned back to you. 

“I can explain that,” you rushed out, almost stumbling with your words. 

“I’m glad you have it,” she said with a smile. “I’d hate it if it had been lost at their hands.” 

“You know about–” 

“I know enough,” she replied. “We don’t have to talk about that, though.” 

You nodded with a small smile, “Thanks.” 

“Nothing to thank me for,” she said simply. 

“How was your break?” you asked. 

“We stayed home,” she responded. “We had dinner and then a small tea ceremony at New Year’s. Grandma thinks it’s the best way to start the year.”

“Doesn’t she read your star chart? Mine used to do that.” 

“Oh certainly.” 

“Anything good?” 

“She said this might be the year my talents finally bloom,” Sybil said sceptically. “She’s a brilliant divinator on everything else, but she’s been telling me that since I was 13.” 

You laughed. “My mom she–” There was a small hesitation before you continued. Still not used to living in a world where she didn’t. You’d been in boarding schools since you were eleven, and although you were relatively used to her absence, it had never been this long without a letter, or a message, or any type of contact. “She used to say that it was going to be the year I got good at herbology every year.” 

“Did it ever happen?” 

“Still waiting,” you retorted with a half smile. “She, on the other hand, is– was really good at it. We used to have a stunning garden, and she’d often get angry about me plucking her stuff for make believe potions.” 

She was about to say something when Professor Spellman walked inside the classroom, his robe trailing behind him in that elegant manner that it tended to have whenever he walked inside a room. “This is not a picnic Miss Doxon, please put your cookies in your bag or I’ll vanish them.” 

“‘M sorry,” she retorted as she placed one of the cookies in her mouth and placed the rest on her bag. 

Spellman nodded, walking straight to the middle of the classroom before eying everyone. “How long have we kept this sitting arrangement?” he asked. 

“Most of the year,” responded a Ravenclaw boy. “I was actually wondering if we would change soon.” 

“Divination is often done better when you keep your partner, it becomes easier since you already know a good deal about them,” Sybil said.

“So we’re not changing?” asked Beth.

“Not quite,” Spellman said later. “Although we have had some wonderful pairs so far, for this class in particular it’s better to work with someone to whom you’ve never divined before.” 

You threw a look at Sibyl who just shrugged. She was curious about who she’d be divining for. Hoping it wouldn’t be someone to closed off to the art, which was, unfortunately, rather common.

“What are we going to work with, Professor?” asked Tom. 

“Spanish Deck,” he replied rather somberly. 

You looked up at him as if you were a deer trapped in headlights. Reading someone’s cards was something you thought you’d ever have to do again. Sybil looked at you apprehensively. “Sir, can I keep working with my partner? I think we’re both quite–” 

“I’m sorry Sybil, It is not possible, your deep knowledge of each other might taint the cards.”

“But we’re all friends,” said Tom. “We all have a pretty deep knowledge of each other.”  

“Not in divination,” said Spellmam calmly. “Please, stand up and make two lines. The left will take runes from this side and the right from this one.” 

You walked into the line in which Sybil wasn’t, but Spellman caught it and put the two of you in the same line seconds later. “I’m sorry, but you cannot be in the same team,” he said to you as he placed his hand on your shoulder and lightly pushed you to the other line. 

As you walked through the line, you crossed your fingers, almost begging the gods of chance that you didn’t get anyone you were close to.  You took your stone, it was one of the trickiest characters in the Norse Alphabet. Two lines with an X in the middle: degaz. 

“I’ve got Isa,” said Sybil, who got paired with Lily. 

“I have Jara,” said Sirius, and ended up with Tom. 

“It’s an R,” said Peter. 

“Do you mean Raido?” asked Remus as he showed him his stone, the two of them got together. 

Marlene and Mary were paired with some Ravenclaws and Beth with one of her roommates. You thought you were safe, that you wouldn’t have to read the fortune of any of your friends when James pulled his stone up in the air and asked. “Does anyone have Degaz?” 

You closed your eyes in defeat, a small frown adorning your face as you opened them again. “Me,” you said as you lifted your stone.

“Lovely,” James said as he approached you with a smile. “Have you ever read the Spanish Deck?” 

“Yeah,” you responded. “But I’d much rather be the one that gets a read and not the other way around?” 

“Sure,” James said with a shrug and a nod. He could tell there was something that made you uneasy, and while he didn’t really care for getting his cards read, it wasn’t a huge deal for him to do the reading. 

Spellman flipped his wand and the chairs changed their places, they were now one in front of the other instead of side by side.  “Please take your seats,” he said. “The books on Spanish Deck will be on your desks shortly.” 

Since Lily and Sybil took the chair you normally used, James and you walked towards the one in the back where he usually sat with Sirius. 

“Please shuffle the cards, Madame,” he said after he dug his finger into the flap of the side of the small box, pulled them out and moved the whole deck towards you. “These are kind of worn, though,” he said as he spotted some scribblings on the side of one and flipped it back into place. 

“It’s better when they are,” you said as you took them in your hands. You started to shuffle them mindlessly, not bothering to look at them while you spoke. “The more time they’ve been shuffled the more magic they’re imbued with. Of course, it’s better when the deck belongs to one witch and not the entire school, since that can make them a bit unpredictable but either way, the older they are, the better they become at–” 

“How are you doing that?” James asked as you flipped the cards from one side to the other, he seemed completely enthralled by the way you were shuffling them.  “Since when can you shuffle like this? Why didn’t I know?” 

“Oh,” you said as you finally noticed what you were doing. “They made me read these a lot in my older school. I got fidgety sometimes. Tarot too, but you can’t shuffle them as much since they’re thicker.”

“Still they’re easier to read,” James said as he flipped through some of the pages in the book that had floated towards the table a few minutes earlier. “These all have so many different meanings. I mean the 2 of clubs means that you might travel but the third means love, and the 6 means despondency and destruction. It makes zero sense.” 

“The third kind of does,” you said as you pulled out the card for him to see. Three clubs tied to each other with a thick ribbon. “Doesn’t it remind you of the ties and connections related to love?” 

“I don’t know…” James responded with a shrug, “I guess it kind of does.” 

You flipped the card back into the deck and shuffled it by splitting it into two smaller lots, placing them on the table, taking one end and allowing cards from both sides to fall on the table at the same time, having them entwine together, and then turning your hands and flipping them all into one single stack. 

“That’s it,” James said as you handed them back to him. “You’ll be the dealer next time we play cards, no objections.” You laughed and shook your head as he looked back at the book. He placed them on the table again. “Please divide them in three.” 

You did, and afterwards knocked on each stack once as you said “For me, For my past and for what I’d like to know.” 

“Oh, thanks,” James said when he noticed what you’d done. “Uh… Which type of throw was that for?” 

“Gypsy, that’s a 9 by 4.” You responded. “You throw them starting on the left, and when you’re done with that row you continue on the right, making a long chain, or a snake, I suppose.” 

James gave you a small side smirk and started placing the cards one by one, facing him. When he was done he looked up at you, adjusting his glasses and biting the side of his cheek. 

“Well go on,” you said. 

“It says you can assign cards to people…” 

“I’m the 8 of swords,” you told him. “I’m always the 8 of swords.”

“Why?” Asked James curiously. 

“I’ve been told it represents me,” you retorted.

“Ah, it’s because you’re stubborn,” he said as he found the page with the card’s explanation. 

“It’s perseverance, Prongs!” 

“Perseverance, tenacity, stubbornness… they’re all the same thing in different degrees of intensity.” 

You laughed as you shook your head. “Fine then, you’re here,” he pointed at the card. “And this throw is about your past, right?” 

“Yeah,” you said, nodding. “At least on this technique, we’re supposed to make three throws.” You looked back at the cards. “What do you see?” 

“Eh, well… you look… sad,” he said as he noticed the sheer amount of clubs beside your card. There was a 6 right next to you, and on the other side, there was a four of swords. “That means trouble, right?” He asked as he pointed at it. 

“Yeah,” you said, being completely appalled and in deep sorrow was quite on par with how you’d been not too long ago. 

“There’s also a– a trip,” he started, pointing at the 2 of clubs below you, and just under that there was a 6 of cups. “Cups!” he said excitedly. “Cups are meant to be good, right?” 

“Not those,” you said. “It’s a trip to melancholy, sadness over bad memories,” you explained, which was also quite accurate, and not new to either of you. 

“Right, but next to these swords we have a three of clubs, that means love, yeah?” 

“But it’s next to the swords that indicate trouble,” you said as you pointed at the swords next to it. “It means trouble with relationships. And that 5 of swords on the other side, with the middle sword pointing straight towards the clubs? It means break up and changes.” 

“Are you kidding me?” he asked in disbelief. “Is there anything good on this throw?” There was a small minute of silence before he spoke again. “This one has to mean something good, there’s a lot of gold at the top. And sixes are bad, but that’s to the top left, so it means that the bad stuff was in the past, right?” 

“Yeah, 6 of gold means problems, but it’s next to an 8 that’s right on top of me.” 

“That means–” he flipped through some pages. “thought and reflection, and that has a 5 of gold afterwards, which means settlement, and resolution. And… you have to hear this: The discovery of a significant emotional bond.” 

“Must have been the mirror,” you said as you looked at the coins. “And the fact that I figured the whole thing out with Remus and Sirius.” 

“Are they here?” he asked as he looked at the cards.  

“Probably,” you responded as you looked around. “Must be these two, look,” you said as you pointed at the gold knight, whose face was turned towards you from your down left, and the knight of swords who was next to him. “See how the horses are looking at each other but they’re avoiding each other’s gaze?” 

“Mhm,” James nodded. 

“It’s because they’re in love, the horse represents their heart’s true desires, I think. The 4 of cups under Remus represent his… um… desire. And the 4 of clubs under Sirius represent his resistance to it.” 

“You really are good at this,” he said as he stared at the throw. “You see anything else?” 

“No, you?” 

“Well this Ace of clubs and 9 of swords together mean something bad,” he said pointing at the cards that were beside the 6 of cubs you got at first. “And there’s a person right above them, a Jack of Gold, that represents a woman, right?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “9 of swords and ace of clubs can mean a life-altering situation.” 

“And if they’re next to a 4 of swords,” he read, “It can even mean dea–” 

“Must be Nina,” you said, pointing at the Jack. “Jack of Gold often represents a fair woman, clever. Suits her, doesn’t it?” 

He looked at you, apprehension in his eyes as he rolled his tongue over his cheek. “Should we go for the next throw?” he offered. 

“Yes,” you said, turning back to him. “These are not the fondest of my memories.” 

“You can read mine if you want instea–” 

“No,” you said almost too quickly, interrupting James mid-sentence.  “I mean, this is fine. I much prefer being on this side of the deck.” 

“You never liked divination much, did you?” He asked as he gathered the rest of the cards. 

“Not much,” you admitted. “It’s a family thing,” you said. “Nan always divined for bad things, my mum for goods, and I always get the bad stuff too.” 

“Maybe you don’t look for the good?”

“Trust me, I look for the good. But for some reason, I still get the bad stuff.” 

“Well then, I’ll be your seer,” he said as he passed you a bunch of cards. “Please, shuffle them again,” he added solemnly.

“You really could open your own reader stand,” you said with a laugh. “He didn’t look much like a “seer” but with the right clothing? Perhaps switching his school robes and his go-to red Converse with something like Professor Spellman’s clothes. Maybe some gold bracelets and a fake earring. He could definitely pull off the look. 

“You’re staring at me weird,” he said as you placed the cards on the table and divided them into three smaller stacks. 

“For me, for my present, and for what I’d like to know,” you said while knocking on the stacks and then turned to him. “I was just imagining you on a dress.” 

“Why?” he asked as he narrowed his eyes on you.

“For the authentic seer look,” you said with a shrug.

He hummed unsatisfactorily in return and started throwing your cards. “You know,” he started as he placed a king of clubs, “I look delightful in a dress.” 

“Bet.” 

“Honest,” he said as he placed yet another card onto the floor. “I have mean calves and a nice waist.” 

“Yeah?” you asked, trying not to laugh. 

“Some need corsets for a nice waist, I got mine with hours of quidditch.” 

“Fascinating!” 

“Yes and–” he turned to you, noticing the small smile creeping on your lips. “Are you making fun of me?” 

“I’d never dream of it,” you retorted. 

“You ARE making fun of me,” he said with a pout, and placed another card on the pile. He was near the beginning of the third row. “Ah look, it’s you.” 

“James,” you said and he turned to you while keeping another eye on the cards. “Have you ever worn a dress?” 

“Yeah,” he said with a simple nod. “For Halloween, and I also once lost a dare with Sirius.” 

“The two of you wore dresses?” 

“Mhm, medieval stuff, Peter and Remus made us do a catwalk and we had to wear them for a whole Weekend.”

“I would pay to see that,” you said with a laugh. “Are there any photos?” 

“I think Remus must have taken some,” he said with a shrug. “Okay, done.” 

You turned to look at the cards and almost laughed at the fact that both Remus and Sirius were right beside you. Their horses looking at you, and right on top of the three was the three of clubs. “Well, seems like you have quite a happy relationship,” he said. 

“Yeah, you said, looking at the cards. This time around there was a lot more Gold and cups around. That meant good things. 

“That’s Victory, right?” he pointed at the ace of golf right underneath you. 

“Indeed, and it’s next to–”

 He checked the book, “–5 of gold, which means well-being and on the opposite, there is, oh,” he frowned. “A 7 of swords…” 

“Those are good, actually,” you told him. “It means hope, and it’s right under Remus, so…” 

“Right,” James said as he remembered, his hazel eyes almost sparkling. “It means you’ve found someone who gives you the confidence to believe in a better future.” You smiled. That was certainly who Remus was for you. 

“There’s also a cup next to the love clubs,” he said as he tried to remember what that meant. “The Ace.” 

“It stands for home, and family. The fact that it has the three clubs on the left and the 7 of cups on the right also means good things.” 

You agreed with a small “hum” as he revised the book. 

“It also says it means fullness of plenitude.” He read something and smirked. “Do you feel like your deepest darkest desires have been fulfilled?” 

“Prongs.” You warned.

“I mean I’m just asking based on what I see here… Talking about cups, do you know what this one means?” he asked as he pointed to the 4 beside the nine of clubs.  The card in question had 4 gold and red cups, one in each corner, and read “Naipe Color Oro” in the centre. 

“Instincts,” you said almost a little too fast. 

“And carnal desires,” James added with a smirk. “And this one right here,” he pointed at the clubs, “it’s satisfaction… and would you look at that, right beside  you and the boys. Now I might be getting carried away, but does this not mean that you’re all giving each other satisfaction in regards of carnal desires?” 

“Prongs, please!” you whined as you covered your face with your hands. 

He chuckled and then raised both hands in defeat. “Sorry, sorry. It’s just that this one looks much better than the previous one.” He then cleared his throat. “Right at the top of this line,” he pointed at the one with you on it. “There is a 4 of gold. The fact that it’s crowning the love cubs, you and the ace of golds right at the bottom means that there is an overall wellness in your love life.” 

“And the three of swords beside it?” 

“I think it’s a bad card, but not with what’s surrounding it. “It’s in between two positive ores,” he said as he checked his notes. “Gratifications, success and wellness, so I think it means, in the long run, you’ll be all right.” 

“Am,” you corrected. “This is about the present.” 

“But isn’t this one about the future?” he said as he pointed at the three of swords. 

“Not in the present throw,” you said. “It’s tricky, it can mean anything from years to days.” 

“But at least for now, it does mean good stuff, right?” 

“Yes, it does,” you said with a small smile and a nod. 

“Could this victory also be about quidditch?” He asked as he pointed at the ace underneath you. 

“I guess,” you said with a shrug. “But there’s still some time before the match, isn’t it? We’re not playing until May, depending on the sores they get in February and March.” 

“Shh,” he said as he shook his head. “I’m the seer, I think it means a Quidditch victory.” 

You shrugged, “Whatever you say Prongs… Just don’t write something like that on the quizzes.” 

“Have you been doing the dream interpretation homework?” he asked as he continued staring at the cards, trying to find something else. But he couldn’t find anything else that would be relevant, so he started gathering them in a single stack again. 

“I haven’t had many dreams lately,” you said. “Not since the darkness in the Ravenclaw tower.” 

“You… you dreamed of darkness in the tower?” 

“Yeah, I thought it was my imagination, but I guess it made sense… I’m making up most of the rest, though.”

“You’re making your dreams up?” 

“I found this book on dream interpretation in the library and I have been using it as inspiration,” you said with a shrug. 

“It’s time for the throw about the future,” he said as he offered you the stack again. 

“I’d rather not,” you said as you shook your head and pushed the cards back at him. 

“Things look good now, I’d rather not worry about what the future may hold.” 

“But–”

“If I had gotten a throw like the one I got in the past 5 months ago, I would have been scared shitless…” you said. “You know what I mean, right?” 

“Yeah,” he said with a sigh. “Maybe we can make something up for the report?” 

“Like what?” you asked with a smile. 

 “I definitely see a quidditch win in your future,” he said with a smile.

“And how does that look?” 

“Wait…” he said as he looked through the stack and placed the 8 of swords on the table, followed by a knight of clubs, who he then switched with a jack of swords and added a knight of ores to your right. “So that’s me,” he pointed at the clubs. “Marlene and, of course, Padfoot,” he explained. 

“Aha…” you said with a smile. 

He then flipped through the cards until he found the two of clubs and placed it next to himself. “I am leading you all,” he added the ace of gold right next to that. “To victory.” 

You laughed and took a bunch from the stack in his hands. “This is Lily,” you said as you took the Jack of cups and placed it under him. You’re both standing over the love clubs,” you said as you raised your eyebrows at him in a teasing manner. “And look what’s above you, two of cups, you know what that means?” 

“You can’t predict Lily and I having children in your future!” 

“What do you mean I can’t? They’ll be my nephews and nieces, of course, I can predict that!” 

James humped in reply. “Well then,” he said as he spotted Remus and placed him underneath you. Then, on your top right corner, he added the four of cups. “You and the boys are having mighty fun as well.” 

“You’re such a dumbass,” you said as you looked for another card to add. Next to the victory you placed the ace of cups. “Means we’re a family.” 

“And,” he placed the 5th of cups under the family, “we’ll celebrate the victory tremendously.” 

“With gratification,” you said as you placed the 7 of gold underneath it. 

Your little game went on until the two of you had designed a wonderfully looking future. Your friends were all around you, Beth. Peter and Tom had been added close to the celebration, and most of the clubs and swords were as far away from all of you as possible, except for the few that weren’t. 

“Why are there so many cards missing? asked Spellman as he approached your table. 

“Ugh… because…” Prongs started. 

“It’s a celt-fae throw,” you said. “It’s a little tricky to make, and I’m trying to remember how to do it, teaching James in the process.” 

“Celt-fae?” he asked with a frown. 

“Yeah, my Nan taught me,” you nodded confidently. 

Spellman placed a hand under his chin and hummed thoughtfully. “I’ll see if we have some books on that in the library,” he added before walking towards someone else’s table. 

“You just made that whole thing up, didn’t you?” James asked you in a whisper. 

You laughed as you nodded, “I most definitely did.” 

“How long do you reckon he’ll be at the library looking for it?” 

You shrugged and then remembered that Sirius and Remus had told you about Spellman going to the forbidden section that one time. “More than one night, at least…” 

James shook his head while the two of you finished the future you’d like to have. “Does two cups mean two children?” he asked casually. 

“Just means children in general,” you retorted. “Why?” 

“I don’t know, I quite fancy the idea of having two of them.” 

“Yeah?” you asked as you tilted your head. “Boys or girls?” 

“I wouldn’t care,” he said with a shrug. “Wouldn’t mind one of each I guess. Imagine me braiding a little Lily’s hair.” 

“If it’s anything like our Lily, she might not let you touch it.” 

“She wouldn’t let anybody but me, touch it,” he retorted confidently. “And Lily, of course.” 

“Of course,” you laughed at the way he’d added that, almost as an afterthought. 

James scribbled something on a sheet of parchment and then passed it over to you. “What do you think?” 

You reviewed the parchment, it was a rather detailed writing of everything that you’d done that day, he had even made some stuff up regarding the fae-celt technique that was so realistic you had to do a double take “Oh, wow,” you said. “It looks like taken from a book.” 

“Thank you,” he said with a pleased smile. “Even if he doesn’t find anything, he’ll still think it’s a thing.” 

“Who knows, perhaps we’ve just made up a new way of predicting the future,” you added with a shrug.

You added just a few more details that you’d seen on the past and present readings, with some drawings of the most relevant or telling cards and looked at the page once more, pulling it back and showing it to James, “What do you think?” 

“It’s great!” he said with a simple nod, and the two of you stood up and walked towards Spellman’s desk. You handed over the paper while James placed the deck, and the book, along with the rest of the stuff. 

“How did it go?” asked Spellman, raising an eyebrow at you. 

“Good,” you replied with a simple nod. You knew it hadn’t been his choice, but having been paired with James perhaps had been a saving grace. With his constant teasing and fooling around, and the fact that he was the one reading and not the other way around, you’d managed to escape what would have otherwise been a torturous situation.

He nodded at you calmly and told you and James that, since you were finished, you could exit the classroom. You stopped by Remus and Peter on the way out. Peter was incredibly confused as he looked in between the cards and the book, biting the side of his cheek as he looked at Remus completely appalled. 

“What does this even mean?” 

“May I?” you asked as you approached him, “Whose reading for whom?”               

“I’m the seer,” said Remus. “I’ve told him it’s nothing but he’s worried he’ll die.” 

You frowned and leaned over the cards, looking at them with a small analysing frown as you placed yourself beside Remus, your side brushing against his shoulder. “Present?” 

“Future,” answered Peter. “See those two? those are death!” 

“Are you supposed to be the Knight of Clubs or the Jack of Gold?” you asked as you looked at the two cards underneath the apparent death. 

“He’s the Knight of Swords,” Remus said, there was a slight hint of exasperation in his voice as if he had already told Peter the exact same thing. 

“But even then, not in a much better situation either, am I?” he asked as he pointed at his spot, near the top middle, leaning to the left.  “I’m surrounded by bad cards!” 

You sighed, “It looks like there are some weird things going on, like you’re going to have a fallout with some friends,” you said as you pointed at the Three of Cups being pointed at by an Ace of Swords from below and a Seven from the side. “That could make you or others feel dejected and upset. 

“But, even if you are a little upset, or perhaps sick, it seems like in the end, you’ll be somehow fulfilled with the choice you made,” you continued, studying the cards again. It was as if they were trying to tell you something. Peter was right, there was certainly something ominous about his throw but you couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was, and you weren’t sure you wanted to know either. Your worst predictions often came true, and you didn’t want anything bad to happen to Peter; he was your friend. 

“You think?” 

“Yeah, and look,” you said, pointing at the diagonal line from his left. “It seems that you will eventually submit to something or someone, and you won’t feel too sad about the stuff that went down either, since you’ll still have a friend you consider home,” you said pointing at the King of Gold and at the Ace of Cups at the end of the line. 

“That means I’ll be fine?” 

You looked at the cards again. There were dark things in them that you didn’t want to think too much about, something baleful that you could feel and not quite see. If you had thrown them, perhaps it would have been easier, and although your magic had always been compatible with Remus’, readings were extremely delicate, and only the main seer could predict things with accuracy –if they were good. 

“Yeah,” you said reassuringly. “You’ll be fine, Pete.”  

“Told you so!” Said Remus as he rolled his eyes and wrote some things down in his notebook. “You’re perfectly safe in this throw.”

“That’s quite reassuring,” Peter said with a sigh. 

“Yeah,” James said as he looked at the cards with a smile and patted Peter’s shoulder cheerfully. “See you in Magic Theory in a bit, yeah?” he said as he looked at the two of them.

“Sure,” Peter said as he started writing down the throw he’s gotten. 

You smiled at the two of them, turning to Remus with slight complicity before giving his shoulder a soft squeeze and walking outside with James. It was a simple way of telling him you loved him, and you knew he’d gotten the message with the small smile he returned.

“You think I showed up on Lily’s read?” He asked as he turned back to take a look at her once you reached the doors.

You looked at the way Lily was looking at her cards, there was a light tinge of red in her cheeks and you couldn’t help but smile, “She must have.” 

“That’s good,” James said as he turned back towards the hall. “You should ask what she got at lunch.” 

“Why’s that?” 

“So you can tell me all about it in practice later,” he said as if it were obvious. “Now that you’re dating Moons, I’m your best friend, which means it is your duty to help me.” 

“I’m not going to tell you everything that Lily says about you, James.” 

“I can tell you everything that Sirius and Remus say about you in exchange–” 

“No thank you,” you interrupted with a half laugh. “If either of them want me to know something, they’ll tell me themselves. And so will Lily with you.”

“I don’t know about that…” 

“James,” you said, turning to him, causing the two of you to stop. “Do you really think she would stay quiet if something was bothering her? Lily Evans?”  

He tilted his head to the side as he exhaled. “But what if her cards mentioned about us having children? What if they told her whether it’d be a boy or a girl?” 

“I think your imagination is getting out of hand, Prongsie.” 

“Is it impossible?” he asked. You were now near the stairs. 

You thought about it for a second. A Two of Cups plus a character person could definitely predict at least some of the basic traits of a future child, but it would be too complicated to spot, and it would require a lot of suppositions. “Well, technically it isn’t impossible but–” 

“See! She wouldn’t tell me that!” 

“Because then you wouldn’t stop talking about it, Prongs, so it makes sense that she–” Suddenly you were yanked by the arm from the side. Perhaps it was more like an intentioned pull, but since you were walking so intently while looking almost solely at James, it felt like a way sharper pull than intended. 

You turned to look at the hand grabbing onto your arm before looking at the owner. “We need to talk.” 

“Hey!” James said as he snapped Evan’s hand from your arm. “That’s no way to treat a Lady!” As if he hadn’t yanked you way harder on multiple occasions while playing Quidditch. His dislike for the Slytherin was obvious, and any excuse would do. 

Evan looked at James dismissively, as if he was nothing more than a nuisance, which was a lot coming from someone who had shied away from him with one look. “Don’t meddle, Potter,” Evan hissed. He then called your last name. “We need to talk.” 

He had said that last bit in such an urgent manner, that you felt compelled to listen, even if Barty leaning against a wall with his arms crossed over his chest and his annoyed expression hadn’t made you any more eager to do it than you were to go back and read someone’s cards from scratch.

“Just leave us alone, Rosier!” James said as he took a step forward.

“It’s okay, Prongs,” you said with a nod. “I’ll see what he has to say.” 

“Sure?” 

“Yeah,” you replied confidently. Prongs stood by your side, waiting. 

Evan cleared his throat. “Do you mind?” he asked, trying not to sound as annoyed as he was.

James threw Evan a look and took a few steps backward, crossing his arms over his chest as he spotted Barty walking towards you. 

You hadn’t talked to either of them since Christmas, regardless they had saved you, and since they had, you assumed the chances of them attacking you outright, were minimal. “So?” 

“Hope you’re feeling better,” Evan said, as politely as he could. Then he hesitated and turned to Barty, as if he wanted his help with whatever it was he had to say. There was a rather tense silence, Barty rolled his eyes and turned to you. 

“Your boyfriend is cheating on you.” You were startled by the information, so much so that you didn’t even react before he spoke again. “With your best friend.” 

Evan turned to Barty, with what looked like shock. “We weren’t gonna tell her that!” 

“I thought we were,” Barty said with a shrug. 

“What?” Was the only thing you managed to respond.

“Remus and Sirius,” Evan said, he looked apologetic, like he thought it wasn’t right to tell you but at the same time it was the only right thing to do. 

“Snape saw them, they were shagging in the Prefect’s Bathroom.” 

Oh, you thought, you had been there. You couldn’t possibly tell them that, could you? 

“Snape told you this?” 

“And he wanted to tell the entire school, make you feel miserable in the process,” Barty said. 

“You’d understand why we couldn’t allow that to happen, right? Same reason you helped me with my father?” 

“I–”

“We obliviated him,” Barty said with a small proud smirk, almost imperceptible. He knew it was a complicated spell. “I didn’t want to tell you, but Evan insisted.” 

“Right,” you said with a breath. “I– uh… I knew about that.” 

“You knew they were cheating?” Evan asked, surprised, but in a whisper. 

“No, I mean… They weren’t cheating.” 

“So you’re their cover?” he asked, still confused. “I thought–” 

“Not quite,” you said, before realising you could have just left them with that thought. 

“What?” 

Barty narrowed his eyes at you, and then he let out a breathy chuckle, sliding his tongue on the side of his cheek before looking to the side and shaking his head. He knew. 

“Evan, Luv.” He said, the smug smile he had did not disappear as he spoke. “It seems she has an arrangement with them.”

“An arrangement?”

“The three of them are into each other,” Barty said confidently. And then there was another sharp intake of breath. “Now that I think about it, she was more surprised that Severus told us than about the fact that they’d been shagging.” He smiled. “Why do you think that is?” 

“She knew,” Evan breathed. 

“Perhaps,” Barty said as he took a step closer. He wasn’t as tall as Evan, and even Reggie was taller, but you suspected he was still going to stretch. “She was there.” 

You kept your face as stoic as you could. Two more people to add to the list of those who knew, or rather, figured it out. “I appreciate the fact that you decided to tell me about it.” Barty raised an eyebrow. “And the fact that you obliviated that snake–” 

Evan hissed, and Barty mouthed “careful”. 

“–Severus,” you corrected. “For me.” 

“You’re welcome,” Barty retorted cockily. 

“It was nothing,” Evan said, much more politely. 

“I’d also appreciate it if you didn’t talk about the thing that we– you know, the thing.” 

“That you’re all fucking each other?” Barty asked nonchalantly and got a small slap on his arm from Evan. 

You didn’t respond, just looked at him with slight exasperation. He knew how to get under your skin. 

“We won’t say a thing,” Evan said with a small nod. “We’ll follow your example.” 

“Thank you,” you said, looking at him and nodding slightly. He shrugged in return. You turned towards James, who was looking at the two of them with a mix of hatred and curiosity. “I have class, now,” you added as you pointed towards James. 

Barty smiled. “Tell them to fuck themselves from my part when you see them,” he said as he waved. You turned to him with a rather pissed look and he smiled, adding, much lower this time, “Or each other.” 

“Everything all right? What’s that all about?” James said as soon as you reached him.

“They know,” you said with a tired sight.

“They know what?” 

“The details of my relationship,” you finished. 

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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A/N: Hey kiddos! I'm finally back! Took me some time but GC is returning with it's regular schedule at least until the middle of December. Also, I wanted to inform you guys that there is a proofreading position open for GC (Proofreaders usually get to read chapters a week in advance, so DM me if you're interested).

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LEVIII i’ll cry i swear :((( /pos im always super happy when i see you interact with one of my posts i swear i know we’re not very close but im incredibly thankful for you too <33

@eowynarchives @mysteriouswolf @royallygray FUCKING. *YOU*. YOU GUYS. god words cannot explain how much you all mean to me and how much you’ve helped me through the year i am eternally thankful for you all im so so so so happy you exist and that i have the pleasure of existing at the same time as you and that by some miracle we all met <333 i love you all so so much and im so proud of you all for how far you’ve gotten

there’s so much more i could say but i. just woke up and brain no work rn /silly

@charbeloved CHARRRRR RAHHH

you were the first person to reach out to me and really my first friend i’ve ever made online and i genuinely wouldn’t be where i am if not for you and im just. so grateful for you and im so happy you exist and that we found each other <333 i know we’re haven’t talked as much recently but ilysm and you mean the world to me regardless

@jooberzzz @krisse33 RAHHHH FUCKING. YOU TWO. GAHHH

you guys are in the same vein to me where any time i see your disc pfp or name on tumblr my serotonin levels go through the roof

ily both sososo much you’re both just so incredibly kind and silly and you absolutely enable my silliness in the most /pos way possible im so grateful char was there to introduce us and i’m so grateful for both of you just. existing and being yourselves. never change ilysm <33333

@just-watching-dont-worry AXEL HIHIHI

i know we don’t talk a whole bunch but i love interacting with you and running to your inbox abt the newest genloss news and knowing you’ll be there to answer and i just really love having a fandom buddy in several of my main fandoms that’s not only just as invested as me but is also such a cool, kind, creative, and thoughtful being that i get the honor to know and be moots with <333

@kli-kli @rhondafromhr @paranormaltheatrekid @impulseowlll @yakuti-witch @insomnya777 @milgram and literally all of my other moots i apologize if i didn’t include you brain is eepy and memory is poor but you guys mean so much to me even if we barely interact <33 just knowing you guys are all just. individual people who decided to follow me and occasionally interact with my post makes me so so happy and i’m glad to be at least a tiny part of your wonderful lives <333

i love you guys more than the world (with the possible exception of my cats /silly) and i’m so grateful to know you all and exist at the same time as you <333

i am also thankful for @literallyd34d and @belladonnamoonundead

[starlostseungmin]

stray kids as tropes with plot.

୨୧‎ 𖹭⠀⁺　skz x afab!reader.

GENRE & WARNING/S:　 fluff?? romance, crimes, allusions to sex, kidnapping, yandere!minho, religious themes, kissing, profanity, mentions of weapons, tropes are listed below, and let me know if i missed one (separate fiction from reality).

WORD COUNT: 　1.9k

୨୧‎ 𖹭⠀⁺　most of these are the plots of my fics that will never see the light of day and some are inspired by the things i read. don’t forget to reblog and leave a feedback.

⠀𔘓 chan ー swat officer and mafia boss’s daughter.  　　he was assigned as the head of capturing the infamous mafia boss in the country who does money laundering and kidnapping but the target was so good in hiding. his team heard that there would be someone from the mafia group who would arrive that evening with a large sum of money and trade it for illegal items. after excruciating an ambush, the person of interest got away. you met at a pub one rainy evening after he finished his job, he was frustrated. he was mainly there to join some friends and not drink until you entered the premises in that black dress. chan was keen when it comes to women and you are exactly his type. shared a few drinks by the counter and there was no small talk. you knew him after the ambush a few hours ago and yet he doesn’t have any idea who you were. he slept with you a few timesーeventually fell in love with each other and yet he noticed something strange was going on about you every time he mentioned the events in his job not until he got you spied on in secret by one of his intelligence (it was just between him and the intel) and the news about you being involved in money laundering broke out. he was forced to choose, you or his job. 

⠀𔘓 lee know ー psycho and doctor (yandere).　　the man had you in a chokehold the moment you were assigned to him at the hospital. he was sent for parole to be examined and yet you were held hostage. it was like a gun was pointed at your head to keep your mouth shut on his whereabouts. he lets you keep your job and act like you weren’t hiding him somewhere deep in the city even if the authorities have interrogated you many times. you were scared and yet he made you submissive in your household, a personal therapist at its finest, at least, you think was crazy that led you to keep a gun inside your drawer in your clinic. he becomes possessive and kills the ones who get close to you even if it is someone he shouldn’t be jealous of. to him, they were just like bowling pins that he hits one by one until the last one falls. he kisses you like a starved man as if he didn’t get to taste your lips for years, he worships you in bed like a loyal follower, he loves the sound of his name coming out of your mouth and humiliates you when you’re on your knees to serve him. your professional side vanishes to the thin air when his hands are all over your body. you should be scared and yet there you are, like a dog who obeys their owner in one command and you know you’ll never going to escape anytime soon. 

⠀𔘓 changbin ー ceo and secretary.　　it is a privilege to be hired as the secretary of the infamous heir of the seo family to cater to their family business and it is indeed hard to work for him during the first five years. meetings, orders, business trips, and paperworks here and there, you didn’t have much choice but to oblige. you know the pay is much higher than the rest of the jobs being offered to you and even if you wanted to quit, changbin doesn’t want to let you go. you are known to be so good at your job. so good that you tend to be competitive and would put changbin’s emotions first before everyone else. it’s like serving royalty who has his ass buried in his seat just to put a solution to everything. he is also the reason why you couldn’t get a life outside apart from coming to work, go home, sleep, eat, and repeat routine. unfortunately, he got pressured to seek a wife at a family dinner one evening and was put into deep thought. he talked to you a few days later and offered something you least expected; if you’re still single at the age of thirty, you should marry each other. so how is it going to be? 

⠀𔘓 hyunjin ー bodyguard and politician’s daughter (forbidden love). 　　he’s supposed to be just a bodyguard who would take a bullet for you as you were known as the only daughter of a high-profile politician in the country. hyunjin was only there to make sure you were safe every time even if you were at home. but what if it was becoming something more? how could he when it’s supposed to be a job? a gentleman who would always put you first, he would volunteer to be your plus one at an event you’re exclusively invited to, keeps you close to him, has a keen eye around just in case danger peeks in while drinking his beer on the side when you are busy talking with the other guests, knows you too well and can determine how to handle you even in your most difficult situation. your father can see the way you look at him, a reckless emotion at such. he disapproves of your feelings towards the man he hired to protect you. a contract is sealed as it is and yet your love doesn’t define what was written on a piece of paper. he kissed and made love with you in the car that night as a goodbye knowing your father was going to fire him but you didn’t want him to leave. and so you made a decision; you ran away with him and never to be seen again. 

⠀𔘓 han ー bonnie and clyde (friends to lovers).　　started off as childhood friends who were both neglected by their parents and were sent to the orphanage, you and han strived to live and do things together without the help from others. juggling academics and adult life after being sent away at the age of eighteen, you were tied to each other and promised to never leave. you were both so close that you could even know everything about each other just by the sound and smell. apparently, han became a delinquent as life got harder and you got involved in his crimes. “ride or die,” they say. you couldn’t ask anything more but to be around han and as a promise, you never once say no to him. you ran away with a car he stole from a dumb neighbor and headed somewhere far. growing up, you learned how to fend yourselves in this harsh life and tainted those innocent hands black as the crimes grew with you. han was dependent on you and a genius at work. because of him, you always have a high chance of getting away while you are in charge of deceiving people in just one act. your faces were plastered everywhere with a ransom and yet it wasn’t that easy to be caught. a gun filled with bullets, a stolen car, and a bag full of money in the backseatーthe night doesn’t sleep for you and him while holding hands.  

⠀𔘓 felix ー fallen angel and human.　　was banished from heaven and sent down to earth as punishment for his sins. his wings were hidden and only his true love would ever see them. a lonely angel who was forced to blend with humans and live in an old shabby apartment with a senior college student (you) has been a tough one. you find him weird and innocent as if it’s like a sin to corrupt him yet he thinks he is the other way around. he wasn’t aware that you could see a huge pair of wings on his back, a mixture of black and white with gold clouds of dust floating around it and you never told him. you heard stories about his kind beforeーthey’re known to be reckless, miserable, and evil. tons of stories were shared yet none of it were believed to be true before he existed. unbeknownst to your knowledge, he would notice the way you look at him. those curious eyes as you hold your lips to speak. you didn’t know what caused him to come down here and yet, you wanted to. still, you were too afraid of the aftermath if you confessed. and as those eyes of yours were staring at him for so long until you felt his lips on yours. with the kiss he lets you take a peak to his past the moment you close your eyes. is he really a sinner? 

⠀𔘓 seungmin ー lawyer and prosecutor (rivals to lovers).　　started as rivals ever since in law school and were always in each other’s necks at court. you curse his name every after the trial you were put together. he enjoys getting into your head and messes will all the proclaimed evidence you could use to defame his client but he is too good. too good that you get crazy inside your office thinking about how to defeat him. he always has this cocky attitude and a smirk plastered on his face, ready to destroy you whenever he gets the chance which is always. your eye twitches, your blood boils, and your head hurts after getting cooked by the one and only kim seungmin. it was all fun and games to him until he decided to pay you a visit in your office during overtime and everyone was gone. you despise being around him and yet, there he wasーin front of your deskーslamming a bunch of folders on it making you stand up out of frustration. you curse at him again with that monotone voice filled with threat as you go near him and the man isn’t fazed at all. instead, he lifts you by your waist and lets you sit on your desk, crashing his lips onto yours like the desperate man he always has been ever since you were still students. you kissed him back knowing you felt the same and the hatred was just a coping mechanism for that. 

⠀𔘓 i.n ー demon and reverend’s daughter (sinful love). 　　you’ve always been a good girl who attends the chapel every sunday. a strong believer with a great influence from your father not until you met this unusual man sitting two rows behind who seems to be looking at you occasionally. he always wears a black suit, his charcoal black hair parted to show his forehead, and sometimes he wears specsーtruly a convincing gentleman as he stays neat. you heard he was new in town and no one knows where he is from nor his name. being known as timid and doesn’t talk to strangers, you approached him three sundays later. he was a good man in your eyes, a great facade that covers who he truly was, and he knows how to pretend to be good so you can get closer to him. your father doesn’t like him. he felt like jeongin was taking you away like a sway from everything that was supposed to be good and counterfeiting your beliefs every time he talked as if he knew the good and evil too well. jeongin was full of lies, he whispers to your ear to stop believing shits that the reverend has been feeding your hopes, he kisses your virgin lips with his lustful ones and touches you to show you what heaven feels like. he leaves marks on your body to name you as his and seals your soul with him as no one will ever take you, even your father. 

୨୧‎ 𖹭⠀⁺　───　 @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @sleepyleeji , @starseungs , @midsoulz , @oddracha , @armystay89 , @lashaemorow , @hanjsquokka , @suebin , @starlostastronaut , @stayconnecteed , @myjisung , @arrasuh

©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

[woaza]

LOVE LOVE LOVE UR SCAR STUFF!!! I am so glad he's starting to get stuff written for him he's so awesome!!!! Please keep going feed us scar fiends

Scar (Arcane) x reader || Pt.2

Link to Pt.1

Contains : Continuation of my head cannons and thoughts on scar in a relationship and as a person.

Word count : 3.4k

Warnings : Scars baby mama being a little crazy(?), grief, mentions of death, some of this is kind of a stretch?

A/n : I HEAVILY AGREE with you! He needs more written about him. I can never find any it’s so strange. I’m so glad you liked my last scar fic. I will definitely continue to do them! I have a lot of requests for other characters, but I need some of him.

— Scar is a Vastaya or more specially a Chirean. Well at least some form of a Chirean? (At least from what little there is about him.) Chirean’s were first discovered by a Zaunite miner. They can’t speak human languages but are bat like. Which scar is. So I don’t know if he is a Chirean or at least some sort of subspecies or a descendent. Since he is classified as one and there is very little known about them.

— One thing we know about Chireans are that they are Omnivorous. So they don’t really have any diet restrictions, but most real bats are fruit bats. So Scar will eat meat and vegetables, but fruits are definitely a favorite of his. Just think about it. In the slums food is hard enough to keep on the table. Sweet things (not to mention difficult to grow) like fruits are a rare treat. Scar feels like they are a special treat, but something about fruit just makes him happy. (So bonus points if you have a fruity perfume or cologne?)

— With those bright green eyes of his can definitely see great in the dark. With that being said also more sensitive to lights. When the two of you wake up in the morning he groans in annoyance so loudly when you turn on your nightstand light. Which yes, nobody likes seeing the bright light first thing in the morning. But for him it’s ten times worse. He will burry his face against your body, looking for an escape from the light.

Though with his eyes comes many benefits. Like Late night walks with him are a must. When his daughter (Who in my head I’ve been calling Petra but I read a cute fic where she was called Riri. So I’m in debate of what her name is but I digress) is being watched by Ekko or someone else he trusts, he’ll take you out on late night walks. He loves to hold you close, helping guide you when you can’t see because it’s too dark.

— When you two first start to see each other more romantically. He literally pretends to be so nonchalant. Acting like he’s above slightly cheesy romantic activities. At the start is the type to watch you dance instead of joining him. Despite desperately wanting to. He just wants to make sure your really in it for the long run and not a quick fling. Scar takes his relationships very seriously, especially because of his daughter.

—Since we are in the topic of his daughter, Baby mama? I could see this going a couple different ways— and I don’t know which is worse.

The first way is that he never had a good relationship with her. Maybe it was a hookup or a messy situation in general. He grew up in the slums and probably wasn’t the greatest of a person himself. “True love” wasn’t really the top of his concerns. Until him and this woman had a daughter together. He (immediately) was ready to become more serious because a child was involved (probably because he felt uncared for in his childhood, not wanting to do that to a child?). Though she didn’t want that and hesitated. Eventually leaving him to raise her by himself.

The second way I could see, is him truly falling in love with someone. Finally having a family and starting to build a life. Having a daughter and a small place to call home, that is until the city’s were flooded with shimmer. Losing his wife/partner to it and will never forget her.

In either case I think the mother of his child is another reason he’s kind of concerned with romance and getting closer to you in general. Scared that everything that happened will just repeat itself.

A/n: maybe more of this? I like making these. BUT I love this photo of him sm. I think it’s cute he’s just genuinely smiling at his daughter.

[she-whatshername]

Tyrrish men hc idea: what these men be like at (a Tyrrish version of) Thanksgiving dinner?

Food and Tyrrish men? Name a better duo. Didn’t spell check this at all lolol sorry

Bodhi:

Is he hosting: yes. This gem of a man is up early cooking and making the house nice

Like he’d be the type to put namecards out and know where to sit everyone

Garrick and Imogen are across from eachother

Xaden and Violet are next to each other.

Liam sits next to Xaden

Cat is told the wrong address

What dish is he known for: makes the best sides. Potatoes, greens, yams. All well seasoned

What’s his party foul: over serving everyone so he and Liam can just watch the chaos and laugh

Like Imogen flings food at Garrick and Garrick is arguing with Xaden about who is the better fighter but they’re all like half coherent and Liam is just sitting on Bodhis lap cheersing glasses like “our children are at it again dear”

Garrick:

Is he hosting: oh no

He’s the guest of honor

Also no one trusts him to host

So he gets a free pass

What dish is he known for: he is absolutely bringing a big roll of churam and he and Xaden are going on a ‘cousins walk around the neighborhood’

Party foul: They come back 30mins later completely high and can’t function at dinner and Violet has to help Xaden back to bed

Xaden

Is he hosting: reluctantly, yes. It was a hard no but Violet wanted to so of course he will host

I think like Bodhi he will cook. He’s a bit of a brat so he will make everything absolutely perfect and the food will taste so good

But if anyone goes in the kitchen he’s freaking out. That’s his space. It’s him, a bottle and he’s just cooking all day. Bodhi is allowed in on occasion

What dish is he known for: the meat. Perfect temperature. People fight over last bite

And of course cake

What’s his party foul: despite hosting a truly amazing dinner he’s such a grump. And everyone has to leave at 9:45 sharp

Liam:

Is he hosting: no, but every time he comes to the party everyone is like “Liam’s here!”

The best guest

Helps make food

Will always run to the store for forgotten food

Helps clean up and do dishes

Also brings gifts every time he comes over like a wood sculpture or something

What dish is he known for: probably the pies. I know this man can make a mean dessert

What’s his party foul: none! A true darling he is. Though he would totally be the person to crash out and nap after all the foods put away. He’s sitting with everyone talking one sec and just falls asleep the next.

Imogen

Is she hosting: lol

What dish is she known for: her Tupperware

What’s her party foul: drinking liquor out the bottle

[lightlycareless]

I was reading your scorned ex husband stories and they made me so sad(especially the second one) then I started thinking about the twin au and like what if the twins parent trap them in a different divorced au? Lol. Naoya is still a dick obviously for splitting up twins(seriously who would do that??) but maybe not completely irredeemable for Y/N to forgive him 🥺 Hehe this is just something silly I thought up and wanted to share

Hellooooooo

Heheh this got me watching the movie again, right in the nostalgia. It had been so long since I last saw it that I actually didn't remember most of it, but I do think however: how the hell did they think that was a good idea 🤣 gee, talk about parent of the year.

Anyways, some liberties were taken to make the story work, though the premise is essentially the same.

Also, these are the works anon is referring to :) Ex-husband 1 & Ex-husband 2. Now onto the warnings:

Warnings: none major. Naoya is an a_hole, as always. Naomi and Naori are adorable, but poor kids seriously :'(.

Happy reading!!

If Naoya does this, you effectively hate him from that point forward.

It is non-negotiable, you never want to see him ever again, especially after the cruel words he used to justify the separation of his children:

“I only ever cared about Naori anyways.”

You made it your life-long purpose to keep Naomi from someone as despicable as her father—though it hurt you to do so, for it also meant you’d be away from your beloved son; just 2 years into his life… you barely got to make any memories with him before he was stripped away from your arms.

But such was the divorce agreement: the two would keep one child, and out of their lives.

Naoya remains in Kyoto with his son at the Zen’in estate, while you move back to Tokyo, close to your family but distant enough to have your own apartment. Just the two of you, the little home you always wanted.

In an unexpected turn of events, Naomi and Naori would go on completely unaware of each other until enrolling in the same elementary school.

It was almost undetectable at the beginning since Naomi now had your last name—but once teachers and students alike began to realize their physical similarities, it became impossible to ignore.

“No… we don’t look alike.” Naori would quietly complain. Out of the two, he was the least enthusiastic about this advancement, doing his best to avoid the limelight due to his reserved nature.

However, that wouldn’t mean anything to Naomi: ever the bubble one, she was nothing but to have a new best friend that looked just like her!

“We’re almost like twins!” she gasped—same hair color, eyes, height… how could they not? “I’ve always wanted a baby brother too.”

“Well, I don’t! And I could be older too, you know? Besides, why would I want a sister that’s weak and ugly…?”

Intended to hurt her, Naomi only laughed at his words, for it would take much more than that to bring her down—one could even say that the two were reflections of their respective parents in that matter: the only contrast between the two, as a matter of fact.

“That’s not true!” she happily refuted, taking hold of his hand and heading to the playground. “Now, come on! I want to go on the swings, and I need someone to push me!”

Though Naori was greatly unwilling at first, he’d soon warm up to her, mainly because she was part of the few, if not the only, kid that didn’t bother him because of his shyness; always rushing to the rescue whenever bullies began to swarm him, as well as reassure him there was nothing wrong with being the way he was.

And if that wasn’t enough, the food Naomi began to share with him (courtesy of you, after much insistence from her part) effectively validated their friendship.

“When will you ever bring him over?” you tease, it’s the happiest you’d ever seen your daughter! And for that, you couldn’t help but feel glad and obligated to repay the favor.

“I don’t know, mama. Nori-kun tells me his papa can be quite strict.”

You chuckle.

“Well, I’m sure I can convince him next time the parents have a meeting at school.”

“His papa doesn’t go to school.” Naomi frowns, her words making you sad for the poor child. “Says he’s too busy.”

“Oh, that’s awful. Well, what about the mama?”

“He doesn’t have one.”

Your heart longs to comfort him.

If they only knew…

And as time went on and their friendship flourished even more, so did their interests for one another; beyond those of their favorite colors and toys, and more into… personal grounds.

Matters that had always quietly hurt Naori one way or the other since he could remember; more so since you had been nothing but sweet and kind to a figuratively unknown kid, which highlighted the fact he never had that one thing he always wished for.

What he might never have, since his father has long given up on it, considering the way he coldly changes the subject, or completely ignores it. Naori simply… doesn’t talk about it.

Until now.

“Why don’t you have a dad?” He dares to ask; it’s no secret that the one to pick him up at school is one of his father’s many subordinates, always changing, not enough to be interesting to the other parents outside of how rich (or a jerk) he must be to have employees pick up his child.

Compared to you, always spoken of fondly for the following reasons:

If it was Valentine’s Day, you’d send Naomi with a big box of candies so she could share with all the class.

Halloween was the same, even hosting small gatherings if the children wished to celebrate in a safe environment.

If it was a classmate’s birthday, you always made sure to send them a personal gift or attend their birthday party. Your gifts might’ve put some parents to shame from time to time, but it didn’t matter, you kind of grew to be some kind of celebrity thus a few always tried to be on your good side—or Naomi’s, so to speak.

Naomi’s birthday… well, some fought to be on the guest list.

In other words,you were an amazing for both kids and parents alike, enough to inspire Naori to daydream about what it would be to have a loving mother like you—to always be at the door once it was time to leave, patiently waiting for the moment your daughter would come into view and subsequently pick her up into a tight, warm hug, followed by a kiss and wide smile as you urged Naomi to tell you all about her day.

Or more importantly, wonder if you were open to adopting him.

“Oh… that—I… don’t know!” Naomi responds truthfully. “Mama never talks about him.”

“Have you asked her?”

“Once or twice, but all she says is that I should focus on my studies!

…

But I can see how sad she gets whenever I mention him.” She continues. “Mama isn’t very good at hiding “adult talk” and neither is my auntie, so I always get to hear how lonely she is when they talk about him! … and how she should try dating other people, or whatever that means, so she wouldn’t feel like that anymore.”

“I think is when you marry someone.” Naori tries to explain, Naomi scowls out of disgust.

She doesn’t like the idea of sharing her mama with someone else, grows somewhat jealous too.

Well, maybe if it was Uncle Nanami, he’s always been nice to her and her mama. Not Geto because she plans on marrying him herself.

And she supposes her papa too… but how could someone you love make you sad?

“I don’t want her marrying anyone.” Naomi shakes her head. “She’s happy with me!”

“But don’t you wonder about your dad?” he asks. “What did he look like? How did he meet your mom?”

Or how they fell in love?

Naturally. Because just as Naori, and even after you tried your hardest to distract her from it… she too longed to have a father. Someone to play with her after finishing all her homework, put her over his shoulders and let her see the world from his height, or protect her from the monsters that lived inside the closet…

There must be an answer to both of their mysteries—people don’t simply disappear.

And such, is how they assigned themselves a new mission; a task of the upmost importance, requiring all their attention and care if they wish to uncover why they only have one parent—and who was such peculiar character.

Anything that could hint such solution is a chance they’d take, however…

To Naomi, this endeavor proved quite fruitless, for any indication of your past relationship was effectively ripped from the evidence. Quite literally: thousands and thousands of pictures cut in half, neatly removing the person that accompanied her mother—whom she assumed to be her father. And that’s without mentioning your consistent disapproval of the matter. Naomi was right where she began.

This lack of advancement both frustrated her and placed more pressure onto Naori’s efforts, which shockingly, turned to be quite more than what they bargained for. Getting results neither could’ve imagined, not even in their wildest dreams…

“Naomi-chan… I’m not sure if you’re ready to see this.” Naori would caution as he placed down a large wooden box before her, filled with his findings.

“Why? Why not, Naori-kun?” she frets, surely it couldn’t be anything too outrageous.

…Could it?

Yes, it could. And it was.

Because beyond the astonishing realization that all the pictures Naori brought were in virtually perfect shape…

The fact they both recognize the people in the photo, Naomi’s mother, wearing that same bright eyed, wide smile look on her face whenever particularly excited. Happy—alongside Naori’s father, with his usual dyed hair, ear piercings, and striking eyes…

Holding two newborn babies—named Naomi and Naori such as the inscription in the back stated, alongside their birth time and date (Naomi is older, at last is known) …

Is what truly shocked them.

…

…

…

You. Naoya.

Naomi and Naori.

Mama and papa.

A family, for all intents and purposes.

What everyone around them proclaimed: siblings.

Naomi and Naori were siblings. Twins.

“Does that mean we—”

Naori nods. If it hadn’t been obvious enough by now.

Nonetheless, as thrilling as this discovery was, for it essentially made their respective dreams come true… another question arose. One that undoubtedly could not proceed unanswered.

“Why aren’t our parents together?”

Or most importantly:

“How can we get them back together?”

“But what if they don’t want to?” Naori frets.

“I told you already! Mama looks very happy wit him, and auntie says she’s very lonely too… besides, if they get back together that means we’ll finally be a happy family! And isn’t that what you wanted?”

Naori presses his lips together, nodding.

“I want a happy family too. I’ve always wanted a papa to play with!” Naomi continues.

“And a mom to hug…” Naori adds. “What do we do?”

First…

Get them together, face to face. In other words, talk. It’s how adults always preached problems got solved.

Since you had given Naomi the impression you’re not interested in anything pertaining to Naori’s dad, she had to get creative. Force you into a position where you wouldn’t be able to ignore her as you’ve done before—and one where Naoya would inevitably have to go to school too.

It had to be a convincing excuse, and since the two were children in need of dire solutions, their innocent minds led them to the most extreme resolution yet.

“I need you to punch me.” Naomi says, determined.

“Why?!” he gasps.

“Because I need to get hurt for mama to come, and if you’re the one in trouble they’ll have to call your papa, and then, the two will be here, just as we planned!”

“Can’t we do something less dangerous…?” Naori doesn’t like the idea of getting in trouble with his strict dad, as if he weren’t insufferable enough…

“No, Naori. It must be this!”

“But I don’t want to punch you…”

“Come on, we have to do it to have a family!!” she insists. “Or do you not want mama to make you food every day? To hug you too??”

He swallows.

“I do.”

“Then do it!”

And… he does. After taking a deep breath, clenching his fist and hitting Naomi in what she could only describe the weakest punch she could’ve ever anticipated. Surely, not enough to make this case convincing.

“Naori! You have to hit harder than that!”

“I—I tried!” he cries.

“No, you didn’t!” she cries back. “You didn’t even try!”

“Ye—yes I did!” Naori frowns. “It’s not my fault I’m not as strong as you!”

“Yeah, right! You’re a boy, you’re supposed to hit harder!” Naomi adds, smirking soon after an idea crosses her mind. “… Then I guess you don’t really want a mama.”

“I do want a mom…”

“No, it’s fine. I should’ve known not to trust you with something so important anyways—” she says, words that brush each and every one of Naori’s insecurities. “You’re just as weak as everyone else says…”

With a frown on his face, and a sour tightness in his chest, little Naori quickly clenched his fist and prepared himself to prove her wrong once and for all. Show that he wanted this just as much as she did—if not more.

Naomi was trying her best to get a rise out of Naori, everything necessary to motivate a genuine hit out of him and get their plan in motion—she never meant any of those words, intended to apologize after all was said and done, though she doubted it would matter once they got what they sought after.

But it was almost comical how it happened, how he miscalculated his steps, how far his hand had to travel to hit Naomi, and how he ended up doing far more than necessary: but convincingly so, in the end. Tripping over her and sending the two tumbling down, loudly hitting the ground in such a motion that had them scraping their skin, and of course, tears following suit.

“Maaaaaaa, I want my mamaaaaa.” Naomi intuitively cried, tightly holding onto the teacher as the two were sent to the infirmary.

Naori didn’t cry much for his father, he rarely did considering his prominent absence, but just one look at his teary face and trembling lip, and it was obvious whom he sought for comfort—the same one the school somehow convinced to come along and deal with this unfortunate incident.

As well as the supposed altercation that made way for all this to happen in the first place.

“No, what do you mean a fight??” You’re the first to arrive, demanding a believable explanation from the teacher. “That’s not—that doesn’t sound like my daughter!”

“I know, I thought the same… but that’s what the kids are saying.” She explains. “That Naomi-chan was inciting Naori-kun to punch her, and that she was even saying awful things to get him to do that. I don’t know what they were doing, if they were playing a game or… I don’t know; all of it is so weird—I’m sorry.”

You sigh.

“It’s fine. There’s no need to stress when it’s already happened.” You explain. “Is the parent of the child here already?”

“Should be soon, but I don’t know if he’s actually coming, Naori’s dad isn’t quite… present.”

You frown at the name.

“Naori? Wasn’t he Naomi’s best friend?”

She nods.

“It just makes everything even more unbelievable… really, what’s gotten to them?”

You hope to figure such when speaking to the poor child your daughter allegedly antagonized, after apologizing for such behavior of course. Which you’d have to deal with after returning home—Naomi… seriously, what could’ve possibly gone through her mind to incite such act? Was she being bullied? Did Naori suddenly decide he no longer wanted to be friends with her?

And why did his name appear to be so… familiar?

You’d figure it out soon enough when entering the infirmary, quickly scanning across the room for your daughter—only to freeze upon locking into Naoya’s; a much smaller, softer version of them, that is.

“Mamaaaaa!!” Naomi quickly cries when seeing you walk past the door, rushing to your side and hugging you tightly, the adrenaline of the whole succession still vivid in her mind. “Mama, it—it hurts a lot!”

Comforting her ought to be your utmost priority, but at the sight of your estranged child, the baby you were forcibly stripped away from… you couldn’t think of anything else but pinching yourself to see if this was a dream—if he was truly there, before you: flesh and bone. After so many years of distance…!

And naturally, hug him. Keep him so, so close to you and never let go; to make up for all the time you’ve spent apart and the things you never got to do because of his undeserving, cruel father…

Who stomped past the door soon after, equally freezing when seeing his estranged child, and ex-wife after 5 years of imposed silence. Startled, as if he hadn’t been the deciding factor behind it all.

Or perhaps, the reason why Naori enrolled in this school in the first place.

“Y/N.”

“Naoya.”

Looks like there’s much to catch up to.

Obviously, part 2 is needed. Essentially where Naoya will disclose more of what the hell was going on in his mind when pulling that stunt, as well as some angst. I have to. hahaha

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this little thing I wrote; I do love it when we indulge into domestic au... but not at the expense of the kids 😭😭😭 think of the children!!! lol.

Well, 0nce again, thank you so much for sending in this ask!! Now take care, and hope to see you soon!!

[runawaydr3amerao3]

📚 Fic Recs: Orphaned Wincest works by 🍏🥧🚪 @goshen-applecrumbledore.

In the wake of the @idlingintheimpalapodcast interview with Roni @goshen-applecrumbledore that 🎙️came out last week, I wanted to make a rec post of their orphaned works on AO3. (And don't worry, if you listen to the episode, you'll hear they're chill about this.)

First of all, though, if Roni's pen name is new to you, do yourself a favour and open this in a tab for later, then come back:

Okay, done? Excellent. Now, these orphaned ones aren't new fics or even newly discovered, but I hardly ever hear them talked about outside of Discord servers, so I suspect they'll be new and exciting to somebody. In which case, happy thanksgivvo, mates!

All below fics are Wincest (Sam/Dean) and Explicit.

📖 Home Is Sam-shaped

Author's Tags: Season/Series 04, First Time, Pining, Dean POV, Case Fic

Words: ~16,000

Summary:

"It was great not thinking about our stupid thing for ten whole minutes," Dean said. "How many ten-minute intervals are there between now and when we die?" Sam was looking at his mouth, and now that he knew to look for it, he wondered how often he'd missed it before. "Depends on how soon I can put a bullet in my brain," Sam croaked.

Sequel:

📖 Born stupid

Author's Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Season/Series 05, Sam POV

Words: ~17,000

Summary:

“Are you mad ‘cause we’re gonna kill your worthless brother?” The demon grinned, his breath reeking of blood and death. “Word on the street is, you two been dippin’ the pen in the, uh, family ink.” Cold sweat bloomed on the back of Sam’s neck.

📖 I simply am not there

Author's Tags: Season/Series 06, Pining, Robo-Sam, no non-con, Dean POV

Words: ~17,500

Summary:

Talking to Sam without a soul felt like a fucked-up monkey paw wish: Sam knew his secret and he wasn’t mad about it, but he also didn’t care at all. It was like they were talking about Dean shrinking his shirt in the wash. Oh, you're a little in love with me? Maybe since always? That's cool, man, don't worry about it.

📖 Wednesdays on earth

Author's Tags: Ficlet Collection, Pre-Canon, Voyeurism, Season/Series 03, Episode: s03e11 Mystery Spot (Supernatural), Season/Series 04, POV Outsider, Implied future wincestiel pining, minor Ruby/Sam, Canonical Character Death, Season/Series 01, Suggested threesome - M/M/F, Getting Together

Words: ~20,600

Summary:

Ficlet collection. Two brothers steal propane, lie to each other in a time loop, vex angels, fuck about their feelings, fumble a threesome, and kiss for good luck.

There you have it. I put the squeeze on Roni but they would cop to no more orphans running around out there, so I think that might be it, y'all. If you haven't read them before, go! Enjoy! If you have read them before, you'll probably go and enjoy them again some time soon because you already know they're awesome. 😂

Thank you to the archive adventurers who first found these orphaned treasures for us all to enjoy, and thank you to Roni for leaving them there to be found. 🙏 We are lucky, lucky readers. 🥰

[skzhocomments]

Best Friend - Bang Chan Oneshot Fanfic

General Masterlist

Pairing: Bang Chan (Stray Kids) x OC (name: Isa. Story is written in 2nd person)

Genre: best friends AU, mature, fluff

Word Count: ~5k

Warnings: explicit mature content, swearing etc.

This is just a story that doesn’t describe Bang Chan's true character in any way. It’s just a product of my imagination and should be treated as such.

This story is also on Wattpad (click here) and AO3 (click here)

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Summary

You and Chan have been best friends for many years, and despite the attraction you feel towards him, you've never dared cross the line. That is, until the two of you end up watching a very explicit movie and you take that leap of courage.

---

A/N: As any other writer out there, I would appreciate reblogs and your comments on this story. Please let me know if you enjoyed it, and most importantly, have fun!

© all rights reserved by skzhocomments (Tumblr), skzho (Tumblr)/ storminsidemycore (Wattpad), storminsidemycore (AO3)

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Best Friend

“Hey, what’s up?” Your best friend Chris picks up the phone, and you can hear faint sounds of traffic on the other side of the line.

“Hey, are you busy?”

“Not really. Did anything happen?” He asks, slight worry lacing his tone.

“Do you wanna come over and see a movie?”

“Oh, tonight? Didn’t you have a date or something?”

“My date cancelled on me!” You whine. You didn’t seem to have much luck with dating apps, because this always seemed to happen to you.

No matter how many people you’d match with, something would inevitably go wrong. You’d either lose interest too quickly when chatting, so you wouldn’t even accept a date, or, if the sun would shine bright enough on your alley and you’d find someone worth dating, something would come up on your side, or your date would bail on you.

“Oh, no! Again?!” Chris exclaims, seemingly as upset as you.

“Yes! Again! I don’t fucking get it! Why am I so unlucky?!” You exclaim with a pout. “I’m all dressed up too! Like, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad I didn’t leave the house at least. But seriously, I put in so much effort, I even bought a new outfit, for fuck’s sake!”

“Aw, I’m sorry Isa. Yeah, I’m free tonight. Actually, I had to drop something at Bin, so I’m like 5 minutes away.”

“Come over, then!” You chirp.

“Coming right up. Want me to bring you anything?”

“Just your amazing self.” You chuckle and say goodbye, ending the call.

5 minutes later, your doorbell rings, and you open the door with a large smile plastered across your face, inviting your best friend in.

You and Chris met a couple of years ago and got close in no time, due to your apparently endless common interests and conversation topics. You became close friends, and meeting up is a weekly occurrence at least. Sometimes life gets too busy, especially for him, who’s a workaholic with seemingly no free days ever, but he always makes sure to make time for you and visit or asks you to come over if he’s too worn out to get out of the house.

Other than actually meeting up, you chat most of the day, and you always thought that you and Chris had quite a good synergy. However, in these few years of you seeing each other regularly, it became clear to you that even if you find him attractive, he doesn’t see you the same way, so you never dared to cross the line.

You enjoy his presence way too much to somehow mess it up by doing something stupid, like confess your lingering feelings that are inappropriate to say the least towards a simple best friend. Some days it’s hard to control your heartbeat who’s erratically beating when he says or does something that makes your legs grow weak and your heart flutter, but you’re doing your best to ensure that you don’t overstep. That’s why you’re trying to go on all these pointless dates and meet these people that you’re almost never interested in.

The moment you see him, your face lights up, and all your disappointment regarding the cancelled date wears off. He is dressed casually, in some black gym trousers and a large hoodie that he immediately takes off as soon as he steps inside.

Underneath, he is wearing a fitted black shirt, and oh, fuck, how can someone look so good in casual clothes, you wonder?

“Is this the outfit?” He asks, pointing to your two piece – a short white skirt and a matching blouse.

“Yeah. I didn’t have time to take my make-up off or change, sorry.” You chuckle.

“Such an idiot, that guy who cancelled on you. You look amazing, Isa.” He compliments you, but you don’t read too much into it, because that’s just who he is. He’s always throwing compliments around, to anyone.

“Aw, thank you, Channie.” You pout and burst out laughing.

“He’s missing out. But hey, I got to see it, so…” He shrugs. “Do a pirouette, will you?” He asks with a large smile and puts his hands on your waist, helping you spin around so he can admire your full outfit.

That’s the other thing about Chris – he is a very touchy person. It’s quite frustrating, really, that you always seem to be up in his arms cuddling, that he’s touching you so comfortably, and it doesn’t mean anything. It never does.

“Just gorgeous. This fits you perfectly.” He compliments again.

“Thank you, really. Now I feel better. Appreciated.” You chuckle at his words. “And look, I got a matching bag as well!” You grab it from the coat rack and pose with it, making silly faces, and Chris immediately starts laughing.

“Lovely bag. It’s so small, though! What fits in there?”

“Oh, Chris, you don’t anything!” You laugh. “I have a million lip glosses in it, at least!”

“In that small thing?” He gasps, opening his mouth. “I don’t believe it till I see it, sorry.”

“Look, then!” You open it up and show him your little collection of mini glosses you’re keeping in your bag at all times. Lip gloss is simply like air to you, and you’re used to reapply it multiple times throughout the day. You just love it.

“Damn, that’s weird. It’s like there’s a magic spell or something making it fit more in it than it should.”

“You think?” You laugh at his antics, putting the bag away. “Anyway, I’ll go get changed and take my make-up off, and then I’ll join you in the living room? You can pick the movie.”

“I get to pick? What an honour!” He laughs. “Can I take your make-up off, though?”

“Oh, do you want that?”

“Yeah.” He smiles, and you do, too.

“Alright, let me get in some comfy clothes and I’ll be right there.”

“Sure.” Chris smiles again and heads to the living room, waiting for you.

Your outfit looks great, but it’s also a bit too tight and a tad uncomfortable, so the moment you step out of it, you feel amazing. You take your bra off too and grab a large t-shirt and some pyjama pants and make your way to the bathroom to bring the cleanser and some make-up remover pads.

“There you go, have fun.” You give Chris everything and close your eyes as he begins to slowly rub the make-up off your face.

“I don’t even understand why you’re wearing all this stuff. You’re so beautiful without it.” Chris mumbles, making you chuckle.

“I look better with it, though. If I don’t wear it when I go out, I feel naked.”

“Really? It makes no sense though, when you’re so pretty.” He hums, continuing to gently remove the make-up. “I think this should be it.”

“Oh, I also do my neck and a bit of my chest, here.” You ignore the compliment and grab the collar of your t-shirt pulling it down, exposing more skin as you roll your head back.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to take your shirt off?” Chris asks, continuing to rub your neck.

“If you want to see me naked, it would.” You chuckle.

For a brief second, you actually consider taking your shirt off just to see how Chris would react, but that is crossing the line.

You shouldn’t.

“Oh.” Chris says quietly pressing his lips together, his ears painting a soft shade of red. “It’s alright, I’ll just do it like this.”

“Thought so.” You laugh and feel as he places a hand steadily on your neck, making sure to wipe the make-up off properly.

The action also makes you blush, and you get a weird feeling in your chest that you want to brush over as quickly as possible. Dangerous thoughts.

“Okay, done.” Chris places the make-up remover on the table, then grabs all the discarded remover pads. “I’ll go throw these out.”

“I’ll also go do my skincare; it shouldn’t take more than 10 minutes.”

“No hurry, Isa.” He smiles, so you go to the bathroom and wash your face, doing your skincare routine and trying to hurry up anyway, just to make sure you don’t keep him waiting for too long, not that he would mind. If anything, Chris is a patient person.

“Alright, did you pick a movie?”

“Yeah, how about this one?” He points to the screen, and you squint your eyes to read the small title.

“Love? What is it about?”

“Not sure, but someone recommended it to me, so I said, heck, why not?”

“Let’s read the IMDB summary…” You pick up your phone and look it up, and immediately burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“Chris, this is basically porn! Murphy enters a highly sexually and emotionally charged relationship with Electra. Unaware of the effect it will have on their relationship, they invite their pretty neighbour into their bed.”

“Oh, my God. Okay, let’s choose something else-”

“No, no, let’s watch it.” You laugh, grabbing the remote control from his hands and pressing play.

As soon as the film starts, so does a very explicit sex scene.

“Wow, they surely didn’t leave anything to the imagination!” Chris exclaims, and you put your hand against your mouth in shock.

“Yeah, they didn’t. It feels like we missed 20 episodes.”

10 minutes later, another sex scene comes on screen.

“This is just porn, isn’t it?” You burst out laughing, watching as Chan’s ears grew red.

“I’m so sorry Isa, I-I really didn’t know-” He stutters, and that only makes you laugh louder.

“No, no, don’t apologise. Who the heck recommended this to you?”

“Felix, damn.”

“He has a specific taste, I guess…” You shake your head amused. “Not gonna lie, though, watching porn with my best friend was not on my bingo card this year.”

“Yeah, neither. Damn.” Chris laughs.

“They seem like they’re having a great time, though.” You affirm. “Should’ve been me tonight, but, oh, well, my date cancelled.”

“What?” He asks shocked but slightly amused. “Do you fuck on the first date, Isa?”

“Hmm, depends on who my date is and if I’m into him?” You tilt your head. “Haven’t been with anyone in a while, though…”

Chris clears his throat.

“What about you?” You ask back, and Chris immediately turns to look at you.

“What, do I have sex on the first date, or have I had sex lately?”

“Both.”

“Well, I- wait. Why are we talking about this again?” He laughs uncomfortably and rubs his nape. He seems nervous, you think, and sort of enjoy seeing him look so embarrassed.

“I mean, you asked first! It’s only natural you tell me!” You sit up on the sofa and move closer to him, the people fucking on the screen already not presenting any interest to you whatsoever.

“Uhm, I mean… I’m more of a gentleman, I guess? I don’t really have sex unless I really like that person, and it takes me more than a date to figure it out usually.”

“Hmm…”

“And I haven’t had any in a while either. The last date I’ve been on didn’t go that well, I figured we don’t really have much in common, so…”

“Ah, I see. So, we both have blue balls.”

“Isa!” He bursts out laughing.

“What? It’s true!”

Chan’s eyes are burning into yours, and you realised that even though you’ve been friends for years, you’ve never really spoken about sex or anything of that sort.

You wonder what he likes in bed – is he the dominant type, or would he let you take control?

Damn, you really shouldn’t think of that.

“I’m gonna go get some water.” You stand up. “Want any?”

“Do you want me to pause this?”

“Nah, it’s fine.”

“Then, bring me a glass too, please.”

“Alright. Be right back.” You haste to the kitchen and shake your head repeatedly, trying to not think of Chris like that.

He’s your best friend, for fuck’s sake.

He’s your best friend.

“Thanks, Isa.” He smiles sweetly as he grabs the glass from your slightly trembling hands.

“So… I guess we’re having a threesome now.” You blurt out, your eyes stuck on the screen.

“What?”

“The film.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course. Apparently.”

You continue watching the screen in silence for a little while, until you feel your neck get stiff, so you start stretching a bit, trying to ease some of the tension.

“Uncomfortable?” Chris asks.

“Mhm, a bit. I should maybe grab some pillows. Or even better, buy a better sofa.”

“Or you could just come here.” He pats his thigh, so you don’t hesitate to drop your head in his lap, continuing to watch the film as Chris runs his fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp softly.

“Damn, you’re really good with your hands.” You say teasingly with a little chuckle, but you are unaware of Chris’ inner turmoil.

He’s been having a raging erection in his pants for the past 30 minutes, and your head is wayyy too close to his crotch, and he shouldn’t have asked you to put your head in his lap, and he should definitely not play with your hair when the only thing he wants to do is grab a fistful of it and guide your mouth towards his dick.

“Uhm, Isa?”

“Yeah?”

“Sorry, my leg is a bit tired. Mind if you sit up?”

“Oh, of course. Sorry.” You immediately follow, but Chris doesn’t let you get too far away, he guides your head to his shoulder and continues playing with your hair as his breath hitches in his throat.

You instinctively reach around his abdomen and hug him from the side, something you’ve done a million times before, as you and Chris often cuddle.

However, at one point throughout the movie, Chris leans over to grab his glass of water from the table, and your hand drops to his crotch, moment when you feel something.

Your eyes dart to his, and he looks right back at you.

“Sorry, that’s-”

“Chris,” you cut him off with a whisper. “You’re so hard. Are you turned on right now?”

“Uhm…”

Looking into his eyes and seeing how he’s looking at you makes something burn in your chest, and for the first time ever since you’ve known him, you decide to take that leap of courage and press your lips against his.

You close your eyes tightly and wait for him to push you away, to reject you, but to your surprise, he does the exact opposite. He places his hand on your waist and kisses you back, biting your lips and leaning over, his body pushing yours into the sofa, as he gets on top of you.

Neither of you say anything, you just kiss and bite each other’s lips with so much passion, you can’t even think of anything else but him. He is a good kisser, and with each touch of your tongues, your heart flutters in both excitement and anxiety. The line has been crossed, and you don’t know what that will mean for your friendship.

He moves his hand under your shirt and begins raising it higher and higher, and you get goosebumps all over as he finally palms your left breast.

You moan against his mouth as his fingers begin playing with your nipple softly, but then he pulls back, looking at you with so much desire, you think you’re going to faint.

“Isa, fuck. You look so fucking good, baby.” He mumbles breathless, his chest rising up and down.

“Should we take this to the bedroom?” You ask hopeful, afraid he would change his mind.

“Yeah.” He nods and helps you up, and you’re trembling with anticipation as you let him grab your hand and lead the way to your room.

Once you’re in, he turns around and kisses you again and again. You move your hands on his back, helping him take off his shirt, and in return, he takes off yours.

“Damn, Chris. All those months in the gym really paid off.” You gasp, seeing how good he looks, letting your hands travel all over his exposed chest and abdomen.

“Yeah?” He chuckles softly. “Do you like how I look?”

“Like? No, Chris, it’s way more than that. You look so fucking perfect.” You say, and you see him blush slightly, so you carefully approach him, all the urgency from before gone, and you kiss his lips slowly, letting your hands explore his body and feeling him melt under your touch.

You move your lips lower and kiss his jaw, then his neck, his hands finding the back of your waist and pulling your body closer into his.

“Really?” He asks, rolling his head back slightly to allow you better access to kiss him, so you do.

“Mhm.” You hum, pressing your lips against his neck and nibbling on his skin lightly, making sure to not leave any bruises, and you listen to all the sounds he’s making, and hearing him moan in pleasure gives you a rush. You want to pleasure him more, to give it your all and make him feel good.

You move your lips lower and fall to your knees in front of him, looking up and seeing his eyes stuck on yours as you grab the hem of his trousers and silently ask for permission to pull them off.

He seems impatient, such a contrast to all the other times he’s shown you what a patient man he is, so you don’t hesitate to drag them down, watching as his cock bounces slightly in front of you.

You grab it and begin rubbing it up and down slowly, bringing your lips closer and connecting them to his tip, beginning to lick around and hearing the way his breathing changes.

He groans in pleasure as you open your mouth and bob your head into his crotch and back, trying to set a rhythm and making sure you’re not forcing yourself and triggering your gag reflex. He’s quite big, bigger than you expected, so this is definitely a challenge.

“Shit, baby. Can you take more?” He asks in a low voice, putting his hand on the back of your head and waiting for you to reply.

You hum again, sending vibrations against his dick, and he groans once more before guiding your head closer. It’s hard to take in his whole length, so you grab his hips for support and try your hardest to relax your throat and allow him in.

“You’re doing so well, fuck.” He compliments, keeping his hand on the back of your head without pushing you anymore. Instead, he’s letting you set the pace, to take as much as you can, and doesn’t force you.

After a little while, Chris places both of his hands on your face and pushes you away, which confuses you for a brief moment.

“Was it not good?” You frown slightly.

“No, no, baby, it was. It was the best. I just don’t wanna come like that. I need to feel you, hm?” He reassures you, helping you stand up and pulling you into a messy kiss.

Chris suddenly bends down and grabs your thighs, making you jump in his arms, and heads towards the bed with you, letting you down gently as he kisses you again.

“You’re so beautiful, Isa.” He says, looking into your eyes, making your stomach feel funny and your chest fill with happiness.

“Thank you.” You say with a little laugh, making him chuckle as well.

“I’m serious. You’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on, Isa. You look like heaven. I can’t even imagine what you sound like when you’re all messed up. Fuck, I want to hear your pretty moans so bad.” He says, making you blush, and begins doing to you exactly what you’ve done to him.

He presses open mouth kisses all over your neck and chest, but he doesn’t shy away from sucking on your skin and leaving hickeys, marking his way down your body.

As he reaches your breasts, he takes one of your nipples is his mouth and moves his hand lower on your abdomen, dragging his fingers across your skin and making your shiver as he finally gets down to your pyjama pants. He’s playing a bit with the hem of your pants, and you close your eyes in anticipation, waiting for him to finally put you out of your misery and touch you.

“Chris, please…” You say, impatient.

He separates his mouth from your chest and rises right above you, looking you right in the eyes, and you’ve never seen that look in them before. They are dark and filled with desire, definitely matching yours, but yours must look pleading instead of confident.

“Please, what?” He asks, before going down to your neck again. He moves his fingers under the hem of your pants, but lets it rest there, on top of your lower abdomen, rubbing circles slowly, teasingly.

“God, please… Please touch me.”

“Yeah? Do you want that, baby?” He kisses your neck softly, before grabbing your skin between his lips again and sucking strongly, making you moan and clench your legs together. “Should I touch you right here?” He asks again, finally pressing his fingers against your pussy

“Fuck, yes.” Your roll your head back as you feel Chris rubbing you slowly.

“Do you like that?” He asks almost menacingly.

“Mhm, I do.”

“Yeah? Does it feel really good?”

“Yes, it does.” You immediately answer, and he chuckles.

“You know what I think would be better?” He asks and removes his hand, much to your displeasure, but as you see him kneel on the bed and move right between your legs, you bite your bottom lip.

He drags your pants down excruciatingly slowly, his fingers connected to your skin the whole time as the fabric disappears from your body. Then, he places his hands on the back of your knees and forces your legs apart, and for a few seconds, he just stares at you, which gets slightly intimidating and uncomfortable for you.

“Uhm…” You start, unsure if there’s something wrong. Maybe he doesn’t like what he sees, maybe-

“My fucking God. Your pussy is perfect.” He says, and before you get the chance to reply, he connects his mouth to it and begins licking it.

His tongue is hot against your core, and it’s simply insane how good it feels. It’s like he knows exactly where to lick, he’s using the perfect pressure, and – God, you feel so good, you instinctively want to clench your legs again, but you can’t. He is keeping them apart with his hands, not letting you move at all, no matter how much you struggle.

When he lets go of your legs, you assume he’s grown tired of pleasuring you, and you are more than happy to welcome him on top of you and let him do whatever he wants. But instead of feeling the bed shift with his weight, you are surprised to see him still stay in the same position, his tongue still licking against your clit while you feel two of his fingers teasing your entrance.

Your clutch the sheets tightly for support, your hands balling into fists around the fabric as you feel his two fingers slip in you, curving just right to touch that sweet spot inside of you that makes you see stars.

He doesn’t need to do much else for you to come undone, to let go on his tongue and fingers with a loud whine, your legs trembling and your hand finding his head to move him away.

Chris separates himself from you by pressing kisses on your thighs, before immediately moving his mouth your abdomen, climbing his way up your body as you’re recovering from one of the most powerful orgasms you’ve ever experienced.

“Fucking hell!” You exclaim.

“Hell? I’d say that was heaven, though.” He chuckles lowly.

“Damn, you’re so good with your mouth, it’s unbelievable.” You compliment, letting him settle between your legs as you feel his hard on press against you. “You made me feel so good.”

“Isa, baby, you haven’t seen anything yet.” He replies, moving his hips forward and entering you slowly, making you roll your head back.

He reconnects his lips with your neck as he’s fucking into you slowly, groaning each time he bottoms out into you, and you match him all the same, letting out soft moans each time you feel his whole length, each time he hits the sensitive spot inside of you.

You lock your legs around his hips, giving him even deeper access, and he continues fucking into you slowly for a bit, raising his head and kissing you softly over and over again.

“Don’t go on other dates, Isa, I’ll take you out anywhere, anytime. I’ll make you feel perfect, hm?” He says in-between your kisses.

You wonder if he means it, or if it’s just something he’s saying in the spur of a moment, but the way he’s fucking you feels more like making love than having sex. Gently, slowly, passionately, perfectly. You could drown in this feeling.

“Mhm, I won’t. I’m all yours, Chris.” You reply, closing your eyes, afraid to see his expression.

You’re afraid you’re going to see that he doesn’t feel the same, that he didn’t get the confession hidden behind your words.

I love you.

You wish you could say that, and you wish he’d say it too.

You wish he wouldn’t have felt so good on top of you. Maybe if you wouldn’t have been sexually compatible , you would’ve lost interest. Or, maybe, you should’ve never crossed the line and have your feelings blurred into one other.

Chris, your best friend.

Chris, the best partner you’ve ever been with sexually.

Chris, the man you’ve looked for in every other man you’ve ever dated and had sex with for the past many years.

“Baby, can we switch? I want to ride you so bad.” You say, feeling suddenly vulnerable under him.

You want to be in control. That way, your chest might not feel so tight.

“Yes, give me a moment.” He replies, burying himself deep in you again, kissing your lips and letting his tongue dance with yours.

Chris pulls back and plops right next to you, waiting patiently for you to straddle him, and as you do, you let yourself fall on his cock.

You let out a soft moan at the feeling, straightening your back and beginning to ride him fast, in opposite contrast to his previous slowly and precise movements.

Chris is quick to moan and raise his hands on your boobs, palming them softly as you bounce on his dick. Just as earlier, his movements seem calculated as he begins dragging his hands lower, making your skin melt under his touch.

He puts one hand on your waist and with the other, he begins rubbing your clit again, and once more, you feel yourself getting close, your movements becoming more erratic.

“Oh, God.” You roll your head back as you feel your whole body tremble, welcoming the bliss of another powerful orgasm that makes you collapse right on top of him.

“Good girl.” He compliments, beginning to raise his hips and fucking himself into you from underneath.

“Feels so good.” You say, kissing his neck messily as his moans get louder.

“I’m so, so close baby.” He speaks between hurried breaths.

“Let go, then.” You whisper against his ear, biting his earlobe slowly, and with a grunt and a final push, he starts cumming, filling you up. He continues moving his hips slowly for a few more moments, and when he’s done, he pulls out of you, so you roll over and collapse right next to him, both of your chests falling up and down as you try to regulate your breathing.

Neither of you say anything, you just lay next to each other in silence, the only sounds being your still hurried breaths.

“So, I wasn’t just horny.” Chris starts speaking after a little while.

“What?” You chuckle.

“I actually… I really like you. I meant what I said earlier. I don’t want you to go on dates with other people, to have someone else make you laugh at their jokes or to kiss them. I don’t want anyone else to see your perfect body, or your face when you come, or hear your moans. I want to be the only one who gets to see those.” He says, making your eyes widen at the sudden confession.

“Chris, I-”

“I’m really, really, really in love with you, Isa. I love you so much, and I’ve been in love with you since forever.”

“Really?” You ask. “But you never said anything… Why?”

“I don’t know... I guess I was just afraid of somehow losing you if I were to ever confess to you.” He says softly, and you understand him completely, and you can’t blame him for being a coward.

You’ve also been a coward.

“Me too… I’ve been in love with you since the first day we met, but… I’ve also been scared to say anything, because what if you would’ve rejected me, or stopped talking to me, or…?” You shake your head and turn around to hug him from the side, and he welcomes you in his arms, hugging you back tightly.

It feels intimate, to lay like this in bed naked next to Chris, to feel his heartbeat pulse against your hand, and his breath on your face, and you love this feeling more than anything.

For the first time in years, you feel content. You feel that maybe you weren’t that unlucky when it came to love; you just happened to search for it in the wrong places, when it’s always been right in front of you.

“So… I guess we’re together now?” He asks, and you let out a soft chuckle.

“Mhm, I guess so.” You nod and press a small kiss against his neck.

“We should really get cleaned up, shouldn’t we?”

“Yeah, we should.” You laugh. “Shower?”

“Sounds good. Together?”

“Please.”

~The End~

[lilmarshie]

A Chance Encounter | B. Barnes x Reader

Entangled Fates, Chapter One

A Victorian Era AU

Y/N - your name

Bucky, a young aristocrat, attends a prestigious ball, feeling out of place among the opulence and superficiality. The lace and opulence was far too much for his liking. He wanted to spend more time outdoors in his element rather than holed up inside attending a party.

Y/N, a brilliant but underprivileged scholar, manages to secure an invitation to the ball through a benefactor, hoping to make important connections for your future. This was going to be monumental for your future career and you were very fortunate to be able to attend such a prestigious gathering.

You arrived promptly at 7pm on the dot, dressed in a beautiful maroon and navy dress, that sparkled ever so slightly in the dim light of the building. The ball was being held in a sprawling home on a few acres. It had a tall, pitched roof featuring brickwork and decorative tiled hallways throughout the home. The home also boasted massive ornate fireplaces in every room, a beautiful front porch, and gorgeous stained glass windows. A butler, was there to greet you at the door, ushering you into the grand foyer and over to two massive doors that led into a lavish but cozy ballroom. There were sprawls of people standing in what seemed to be every corner of the room. Mingling amongst each other, while servants catered to the whims of the partygoers.

Amidst the crowd, you locked eyes with a man who had dark chocolate brown hair which was neatly slicked back. He was dressed in a meticulously pressed dark gray suit that accentuated his features. You locked eyes briefly with this man before turning away embarrassment visible on your face. You knew that you didn’t fit in here but you needed to do this for the sake of your future.

You went to go and grab a place of pastries and a cup of tea to keep your mind occupied. “I don’t need to get involved in whatever this man does. He may be strikingly good looking but I can’t get involved.” You think, as you wander off to a nearby table, the plate in your hands filled to the brim with the delicious treats. You noticed that this man kept his eyes on you the entire time. He began to make his way over to you. “Ahem.” The man says, as you swallow a bite of one of the pastries. “I wanted to introduce myself. I haven’t seen you around before. My name is James Buchanan Barnes. But you can call me Bucky.” He says, with a huge grin. His hand was extended to shake hands with yours. You reach over the table and shake his hand with a smile. “Pleasure to meet you, Bucky.” You say, as you shake his hand warmly.

“How are you enjoying everything?” Bucky asks, his hands now clasped in his lap as he watches you intently. “It’s been very nice to be invited here. I never thought I would ever be able to attend an event such as this.” You say, with a wistful sigh. “This is honestly a dream come true. I am but a simple scholar and I have dreamed of a moment such as this.” You say, as you drink a sip of tea that was swiftly brought to you by one of the many attentive servants. “I’m very glad to hear that, y/n.” Bucky says, as he takes a sip of tea as well. His brown eyes twinkling in the low light. He was contemplating whether or not to tell you why he was there before clearing his throat softly.

“How about we step outside to continue our conversation? I’m quite enjoying myself here with you. And I’d love to get to know you better.” Bucky smiled, as he finished his cup of tea before standing up and extending his arm out towards yours. Nodding, you link arms with Bucky’s and make your way outside, into the cold London air. Bucky leads you out into the porch and you sit next to him on one of the benches outside. The dim oil lamps faintly lighting up the space between you.

Over the next couple of hours, Bucky shares with you his thoughts about what’s going on with society, his dreams about the future, and business opportunities that he has awaiting him. You mention that your benefactor has secured the invitation for the ball tonight as well as helped you become the scholar that you are today. Without them, you confessed, you would be in a far worse situation.

As the evening draws to a close, Bucky makes a promise to meet again, with you, at a later date. He takes down your address and with a kiss to your hand, and once more to your cheek, promises to write to you soon. Before disappearing back inside to the swarms of partygoers.

You were eager to meetup with Bucky again however that meeting would occur. James Buchanan Barnes has captivated you in ways that you never imagined. And you were awaiting that moment with anticipation.

Little did you know, that Bucky went home that night happier and hopeful, than he’s ever been.

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: so excited to share my fic for the eras tour fic challenge, so creatively and wonderfully put together by @wyattjohnston and @comphy-and-cozy 🥰 my song was ‘the last time’ so i definitely leaned into the angst here (with an extremely healthy dose of smut). it’s not necessarily a toxic relationship, but i think there are undertones of toxicity there. anyway! enjoy and let me know your thoughts!! ❤️‍🔥

word count: 3.9k

tw: on and off relationship with some minor toxicity, oral (f receiving), fingering (f recieving),

summary: william’s at your door again and you keep letting him in even though you shouldn’t

“No.”

Your tone is flat and you cross your arms over your chest, a protective measure as much as it is a display of your feelings towards the man standing in front of you. Your lips flatten into a straight line and you can feel your shoulders tense up.

“Sötnos,” William murmurs the Swedish term of endearment and braces his hand on the doorjamb.

“No,” you repeat yourself, just as firmly. “How did you get up here?”

It’s a stupid question. Your doorman, Gus, loves William - thinks the sun shines out of his ass, especially after William had dropped comp tickets off at his desk a few times during the season. Of course Gus is going to let him upstairs, not that you’d actually told Gus to ban him. You should’ve told Gus to ban him.

“Don’t answer that,” you snap, before he can open his mouth. “Just leave.”

He looks rough, dark circles under his eyes and a downward curve to his lips that seems deeper than superficial. The Leafs had been eliminated two nights ago, bounced by the Bruins in seven games after William had been the only one to score a goal in that final game. A sharp, uncomfortable pang of sympathy for your ex settles in your chest and you wish it didn’t.

“Sötnos, c’mon. Let me in,” he’s borderline close to a plea. The term of endearment falls too easily from his lips, your second name during the time you were dating.

“I’m serious, William,” you sigh, suddenly exhausted down to your bones. “I’m not doing this. I can’t do this.”

His blue eyes sharpen and his jaw sets. “Do you have someone over?” The question is sharp and uncalled for, jealously practically dripping from his pores. At any other time you’d love his reaction, but it’s too little, too late and just annoys you more.

“Even if I did,” you hiss, “it’s none of your fucking business since you dumped me, remember?”

You’ve been on and off for more than a year, both of you too stuck in your ways to really commit. It was simple at first, to be at each other’s place when you were both in town, to say you were dating - boyfriend and girlfriend had been easy labels - but for all of William’s easygoing Swedish ways, he can be difficult and stubborn.

Not that you’re perfect either, happy to have your free time and flirt at bars with handsome men after a few drinks with your girls. But somewhere along the line, you’d made the stupid mistake of wanting more from him. Sure, you’d gotten a drawer in his dresser and your stuff occasionally cluttered his condo, but you’d also spent four of the last six months broken up when William decided that he needed to focus on hockey.

He’d come around your place after his eight-game goalless streak was broken and you’d gotten back together just as the Leafs were clinching a playoff spot. You’d spent the night with his head between your legs, him wearing your thighs as earmuffs and eating you out until his beard was soaked and your legs couldn’t stop shaking.

You’d thought that time was different, all the sweet words he’d spoken into your skin, alternated with pure filth.

There’s an 88 blue satin bomber jacket in your closet, unworn, that you thought was a sign that things were different. A jacket that William had apparently approved when the other girls had asked him about including you.

Joke’s on you.

Dumped two days before the playoffs started, by a William who was stressed and anxious and, as you found out later, suffering from migraines that would keep him off the ice for three games.

The sympathy settles again, like a rock in your stomach.

“I remember,” he says now, shoving a hand through his hair. “Let me in, please. I just want to talk.”

“The last time we talked,” you air quote the word, “you fucked me so hard I nearly forgot my own name and then dumped me three weeks later. So, forgive me if I’m not feeling chatty.”

Subconsciously though, you’ve stepped back into your apartment and William’s stepped inside. The door is still open, his body blocking you from being able to close it, until he moves to the side and closes it himself, leaning his back against the wood.

“Then let me talk,” he says. “You just listen.”

You’re mad that you even brought up the sex, but you’re surprised that William didn’t latch onto that with a sly comment and a smirk.

“I don’t want to listen,” you sound petulant. “I’m tired of letting you in, thinking things are different, only to find out that I don’t matter to you.”

William’s eyebrows fly up his forehead and his eyes go wide. “What?” He nearly shouts, suddenly fired up. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I don’t matter to you,” you repeat, slower, emphasizing each word. It feels like a knife in your chest, to voice the feeling you’ve had for weeks. “We’ve been doing this dance, you come to me when you’re on an upswing, drop me when you’re not. It’s pretty obvious, William, where I land on the list of things you care about.”

He shakes his head. “No, it’s not obvious to me,” he says, stepping away from the door. “Explain to me where you think you fall.”

“I’m not doing that,” you snap. To your horror, tears well up in your eyes. “If you don’t know what I am to you, I’m not explaining shit.”

“Of course I care about you, of course you’re important to me,” he says, reaching for your hand. “It’s hard, with hockey, to balance…”

You can’t help it, a scoff slips past your lips, the derisive sound stopping William in his tracks. “You’re not balancing anything,” you mutter. Ticking them off on your fingers, you list out the last three breakups, “you dumped me when the season was staring, when you’d gone on the goalless streak, and now, when playoffs were starting. Clearly, I am not as important to you as hockey is. So, I’m done. This is the last time I let you in, go play hockey, William.”

His entire face pulls down in an unhappy expression, eyebrows scrunching together over his nose. “I fucked up, okay? Is that what you want me to say? I’m not used to having to take someone else’s feelings into consideration, but I’m trying,” he reaches out for your hands and you don’t stop him, against your better judgment.

William’s hands are warm and dry and you hate the little spark of desire that flickers low in your stomach when he rubs the pads of his thumbs over your knuckles.

“It’s too late,” you shake your head, your hands still in his. “I don’t want to do this anymore, I don’t want to let you keep stomping on my heart.”

“Let me make it up to you,” his tone is sweet, cajoling. His hands move up your arms, thumbs tracing over the veins on the inside of your wrists. You shiver and he smiles. “Let me prove how much I care about you.”

Your lips twitch at the corners and you fight the smile that threatens. William’s hands trail up your arms, cupping your elbows briefly to pull you closer and you go, stumbling slightly on the step into him. His fingers tighten around your elbows and you pout at him, your resolve weakening with William’s proximity, the woodsy cedar scent of his cologne filling your senses and making your head fuzzy.

You’re good at this, the both of you. Being fun, flirty with each other. The sex is unbelievable, it’s so easy to fall back into his arms when he looks at you with those icy blue eyes all liquid heat and desire.

“Are you going to let me show you how much I care, sötnos?” William’s voice is a low rumble that makes goosebumps rise on your arms, the memory of that voice speaking filth into your hair as he fucked you like his life depended on it.

“This is the last time,” you swear, rocking forward on the balls of your feet. William grins and meets you halfway, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. His hands are cupping your cheek, the back of your head to position you at an angle for him to deepen the kiss.

You moan into his mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your body against the length of his. You can feel the ridge of his erection against your stomach, hot through the layers of clothes. William’s fingers tangle in your hair, tugging until there’s a sharp prick of pain in your scalp and you gasp, arching against him.

“Make the best sounds,” he mumbles against your lips, pulling back slightly, grinding his hips against yours. “Missed those sounds.”

He feels so good, solid against you and you’ve missed him even though it’s only been a few weeks.

“Will…” you whine his name, gasping when he bites and sucks at your pulse point, a flood of arousal between your legs. You roll your hips mindlessly, desperate for more. You’re unbearably wet for him, your body intimately acquainted with his talents and ready for more after being deprived.

His beard scratches your skin and you feel his lips curl into a smile against your neck, the edges of his teeth pressing against your skin. “I know,” he mumbles, biting gently. “I’m gonna give you everything you want, promise. I’m gonna make it so good for you, you’ll forget your own name.”

You’re being moved, walked backwards to your couch, with William’s lips all over your neck and collarbone. His hands are on your hips, holding you flush against his cock, and you wiggle in his grip, whines falling from your mouth around pleas for anything, everything.

The backs of your knees hit the edge of the couch and you’re falling, wrapped in William’s arms to cushion the impact. He braces himself, still landing on you with a little exhale and a laugh, making you giggle too. Sex has always been fun with him, laughter filling any room you’re in, and this is no different. He peppers your face with kisses, making you laugh even harder, until you’re pushing at his chest and gasping for him to stop so you can catch your breath.

“No, no,” he grins wickedly, “I’m not stopping, I’ve missed you.” His hand slides over your hip and up the hem of your shorts, two fingers teasing at the damp fabric of your panties. You buck your hips into his touch. “Feels like she missed me too.”

Heat flushes your chest and you turn your face away from him, embarrassed at how wet you are from just kissing. You mumble something, incomprehensible to both you and William, and he laughs again, teasing at your clit through the fabric. Your legs twitch to wrap around his waist, but he’s got you pinned in place with his thighs on the outside of yours.

“Don’t hide that pretty face,” he leans down to kiss you, adding more pressure to your clit so you moan into his mouth. “Had to think about you and this perfect pussy every day to get some relief. My dick’s never been harder than when I’m remembering it buried in you.”

To emphasise the point, William slots his hips between yours, pressing the thick bulge of his cock against your cunt, thrusting his hips lightly to work you up even more. Your breath hiccups in your chest and pleasure builds in your stomach, desperate for relief.

“Don’t tease,” you whine, digging your nails into his back muscles, dragging them down to leave marks. Neither of you have ever shied away from marking the other and William’s the first one to tell you to mark him up. “This isn’t happening again, do it right this time.”

“We’ll see,” William grunts, shifting so he can kneel between your legs and hook one of your thighs around his hip. You’re still completely clothed, but with your legs spread open, you feel bare to him. “We’re good at this, sötnos, we can be good at everything.”

It’s not true, you think hazily, because you weren’t good at keeping the relationship going when an outside issue popped up, but the thought is gone just as fast as William’s pulling aside the elastic of your panties and plunging two thick fingers into your cunt with an embarrassingly loud, wet sound.

“Oh! Fuuuck,” you gasp, dragging the curse out on a moan. His fingers pump in and out of you relentlessly, dragging along your front wall and pushing you closer to the edge of your orgasm. You chant his name, heels scrabbling at the couch cushions.

“Come on,” he encourages you, holding your hip in place with his free hand. “Come for me, I can feel how close you are. So tight and wet, going to cream on my fingers, sötnos?”

“Yes, yes, oh my god,” you wail, William’s thumb pressed firmly on your clit, making you see stars. It doesn’t take too much longer for you to gush around his fingers, soaking his hand and dripping down the curve of your ass. You can barely process the force of your orgasm and the shit-eating grin on William’s face before he and his hand are gone.

Your cunt clenches around nothing, suddenly empty, and your voice is slurred even to your own ears when you mumble, “what- Will…”

His voice drifts up from the floor, where he’s kneeling and pulling at your knees. “Told you I was going to show you how much I care,” he kisses the inside of your knee, rubbing his cheek against your skin like a house cat. “Going to worship you on my knees.”

You’re yanked forward on the couch, a yelp escaping your lips. William’s got your shorts and panties on the floor and your legs tossed over his shoulders before you can blink and his mouth is on your cunt in the next heartbeat, his tongue flat against your sensitive cunt. It’s hard to suck in a breath with the way he eats you out. He traces your clit with the tip of his tongue, teasing at your entrance with one blunt finger while the other hand has a vice-like grip on your thigh.

He hums against you, face buried between your legs to the point where you wonder briefly if he can even breathe. His nose presses against your clit next and all thoughts are gone, blue-screened as he laps at your arousal, the scruff of his playoff beard rubbing painfully against your sensitive, soaked skin.

William grunts when you kick his back, unable to control your legs as pressure builds again. Your hands find their way to his hair, twisting your fingers in the blond strands and pulling, holding his face in place so your hips can move, grinding over his nose.

You’re barely recovered from your first orgasm and everything is still sensitive. William’s tongue is stiff as it fucks in and out of your entrance, two fingers pressed inside your cunt, keeping you feeling full. You clench around his fingers and he groans into you, nudging the tip of his nose harder against your clit.

“Oh my god, there, right there,” you babble, digging your heel into his shoulder blade, rolling your hips over his face. It’s not enough and you wail his name, desperate for more.

William nips at your inner thigh and then dives back in, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking, hard. You scream his name, back arching, and fingers tightening around his hair. The bastard laughs against your clit, the vibration sending an electric shock up your spine and snapping the tight coil of pleasure in your lower stomach.

You come again, eyes pinched shut, and moaning loudly, wantonly. It feels too good, too overwhelming and you’d be embarrassed by the force of your orgasm if it were anyone but William between your legs.

William’s face pops up between your legs, your thighs trembling on his shoulders. His hair is flopped over his forehead, messy from your abuse. He’s got a massive grin on his face and his beard is soaked with your arousal. Your hands fall from his hair and land on the couch cushions, as limp as the rest of your body. You manage a shaky grin back, breathing heavily.

“Next time,” he quips cheekily, wiping a hand over the lower half of his face, “I’m bringing a snorkel so I don’t drown in that sweet, wet pussy of yours.”

Somehow, you still have the facilities to remind him, “no, there’s no next time. This is the last time, no more,” in a slurred, faint voice. You’re still dripping for him, his fingers lazily playing at your entrance, smearing slick all over the place. Your thighs tremble and twitch and he turns his head to kiss the soft skin of your inner thigh, nipping gently and licking at the spot.

He hums and you try and wiggle away from his touch, gentle as it is on your clit, you’re bordering on overstimulated. “How can I convince you that this time is different?” He asks, making eye contract from between your legs. His blue eyes are serious, pupils still blown with arousal. William’s fingers are distracting between your legs, slowly stroking you to another orgasm. Fire builds low in your stomach, stoked by his continued chatter. “Another orgasm on my fingers? You’re always so sweet after I make you come, content to curl up like a cat. Maybe I need to fuck you hard and fast, get you strangling my cock so your thoughts that you don’t matter to me are gone.”

You whine, clenching around his fingers, rolling your hips over his hand. “William,” his name is a gasp punched from your lungs as his fingers find your g-spot and bully it until you’re coming, squirting down his arm and all over the couch. Your clit throbs painfully and you sob from the overwhelming strength of your third orgasm.

William’s other hand is between his own legs, stroking his cock - you can see his shoulder moving, hear the little grunts he’s trying to muffle - and you pant, trying to catch your breath. It’s impossible and when William finally removes his hand from between your legs, sucking his fingers clean, you sob from the relief. And something else, clicking in your chest, a feeling you don’t want to feel.

He leans up higher on his knees, concern etched in the lines on his forehead. “Sötnos,” he murmurs, sliding his hands over your hips and splaying them over your stomach, stroking gentle circles, “I’m sorry, that last one was too much. Talk to me, are you okay?”

You shake your head, hiccuping and gasping. Your hand snakes out on the couch and reaches for a throw pillow to throw over your face, everything is too exposed, your legs are in the air still draped over William’s shoulders. With a wiggle, you swing your legs off of him, fighting to curl up on the couch.

“What happened?” William asks, hands on your waist, you can feel his body heat when he leans in to pluck the pillow from your face. “Talk to me, please. You’re freaking me out.”

“I…this wasn’t supposed…” you gasp out, wiping at your face with the heels of your palms. Your chest feels tight. “I don’t want to keep doing this! I don’t want to keep falling into bed and loving you and getting my heart broken, William! Orgasms aren’t going to help, it doesn’t…I can’t be in love with you and only have…”

You cut yourself off, miserable that you admitted to loving him, still fuzzy and shaky and wet from the orgasms.

William clicks his tongue and lets out a little sigh of your name, affection and amusement laced in the syllables. He manhandles you easily, slipping your shorts back up your legs and dragging you onto his lap, your knees on either side of his hips, his cock hard and hot under your ass. “Sorry,” he laughs, kissing your cheek quickly.

You drop your face to his neck, curling close even though you just want to run and hide. “Stop being nice to me,” you wail. “I’m so embarrassed.”

“Sötnos,” William peppers your cheek and neck with light kisses, hands splayed over your back. “Don’t be. I didn’t realize, I’ve been in my head too much.”

He hasn’t said it back, you can’t help but notice, your heart hammering in your chest. You want him to say it back, but only if he means it. You can’t handle any other option.

“I can hear you thinking,” he murmurs, mouth right next to your ear. “I don’t want to say it when you’re sad like this. I want it to be a happy memory for you.”

Your heart lurches in your chest and your tears taper off, the shoulder of William’s shirt damp. “I hate feeling like this,” you sigh, pulling back a little to look him in the eyes. “I need you to promise me that this is the last time I have to do this.”

William grips your chin between his index finger and thumb. “I promise,” he says seriously. “I’ll be better. We’ll be better.”

He pauses and his eyes twinkle before he says, “come with me this summer, back home. To Stockholm. I’ll show you a Swedish summer and we can figure it out.”

You find yourself nodding, encouraged by the excitement in William’s voice and the smile that transforms his face. “Okay,” you agree in a quiet voice, nodding as you talk. “Okay. What does a Swedish summer entail?”

You’re picturing long walks with the dogs, holding hands and falling deeper in love. Your heart squeezes, fragile hope and delusion at war with each other.

“Hm, chocolate definitely,” William grins and you relax on his lap. “Meatballs,” he continues on a laugh, his hands ghosting down your sides and coming to rest on your ass. He squeezes and kneads your skin, fingers digging into your muscles, “massages.”

“I like the sound of that,” you say, tracing your fingers over the seams that run from the collar to the sleeves on his shirt. William’s hands trace up your sides, under your shirt, and cup your breasts. His thumbs brush over your nipples, teasing them to stiff, painful points and you arch into his touch, a little whimper slipping out of your mouth.

He’s hardening under you, cock twitching against your inner thigh, and you grind down a little on him.

“Let’s go to your bedroom and get the summer started,” William kisses you soundly, lips and teeth and tongue working together to make you dizzy. As if you haven’t already lost all your senses to three orgasms in quick succession. As if you’re not already in too deep.

You barely have a chance to answer before he’s locking his hands under your ass and standing up, carrying you into your bedroom. His mouth finds every inch of exposed skin and trails heat down your neck and over your chest, teeth scraping at your collarbone.

You whine a little and William promises to be good for you, to make it good for you.

You can only hope he’s a man of his word.

You don’t know how many last times you have in you.

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Quite the Workout Part 3 -Oneshot

Sorry it took me a minute, but here's part 3. ;) I also don't necessarily like the nicknames Bucky calls reader in this one...but it seemed to fit the vibe of the story. Trigger warning: derogatory name-calling, smut Word count: 2603

Part 1 Part 2

“I’ve never been in this room before,” Y/N said, looking around the smaller workout room.

Bucky hummed.  “It’s one of the private workout rooms.”

She looked around at the equipment lining the walls, the mirror along the wall across from the door and a large mat covering the middle section of the room.  There were no windows, and she wasn’t sure but she thought she heard the click of the lock when Bucky closed the door behind them.  “Why do we need a private workout room if we’re just sparring?” she asked, though she had an inclination as to what it was Bucky had on his mind.

“So I can give you a private lesson,” he said matter-of-factly.  “Who better to learn hand-to-hand combat and sparring with than the one and only ex-Winter Soldier?”

Y/N lifted an eyebrow at him.  “I know hand-to-hand combat, Buck,” Y/N said.  “You’ve seen me do it before.”

“Yes,” he nodded, walking toward her.  “But you’ve never had to go up against me.”

Y/N huffed a laugh as his eyes narrowed, looking like a predator stalking its prey.  “You sure you won’t get a boner while trying to fight me?” she teased.

Bucky’s expression didn’t waver except for his lips slightly curling into a smirk.  “No promises,” he said.  

Y/N rolled her eyes and got into a defensive stance.  She let Bucky circle her, watching him carefully and trying to think of the next steps he could take.  She’d seen him fight in the field multiple times.  He was wicked fast, strategic, and quite lithe for a man his size.  He was taking small steps closer to her each time he circled, almost imperceptibly if she wasn’t so aware of him.  Like lightning he suddenly swung at her, and she barely dodged his attack by mere centimeters.  It slightly scared her, her eyes widening and muscles tensing.  Most people, especially men she had ever had to fight were pretty predictable, they’re bodies indicating what their next move would be with each twitch, back swing and twist.  But Bucky was like a wild cat, slinking toward her one way then surprising her going a different way.  His hits were heavy but precise.  She tried to keep her breathing even and composed.  It would do her no good to panic.  She moved so that her back would never face him, frowning as she focused on the task at hand.

Bucky’s smirk never left his face.  He knew he had the upper hand, and she knew it, too.  As much as she could hold her own against most assailants, an enhanced person was a totally different animal.  He finally stopped moving and waited for her to make the next move, his head tilting in both question and challenge at her.

Y/N couldn’t stand the anticipatory, charged silence and attacked, swinging her arm through the air toward his face.  She knew he would dodge it easily, so as he moved his head she twisted her body and punched his ribs with her other hand at the last second before springing away from him.

Bucky huffed a breath and smiled as he turned to face her.  “Good girl,” he praised her.  “Good strategy.”

Y/N shook out and flexed her hand that landed the punch.  It was like punching a brick wall.  As proud as she was at landing at least one punch, she didn’t let it deter her from being realistic about her chances.  She wasn’t enhanced, didn’t have any powers to help her.  They sparred for a while longer, Y/N doing her best to just not get hit or hurt.  Most of her movements were defensive or evasive, and she could feel her endurance diminishing as time went on.  Bucky seemed to be enjoying himself, his eyes raking over her figure more often than not, which only made it harder for her to focus.  

“Would you quit ogling me and just fight?” she finally grunted as she missed hitting his torso once again.

“It’s not my fault you decided to spar with the tiniest, tightest shorts known to mankind,” Bucky retorted, his hungry gaze flitting over her lower half for the hundredth time.  “Trying to distract me with those thighs of yours.”

“Aw, I thought you liked my thighs,” Y/N said patronizingly.  The shorts had been a conscious decision, which he of course picked up on.  

“I do,” he winked.  “And that ass that’s practically hanging out of those shorts.  And what’s peeking at me between your legs every time you kick at me.”

Y/N smirked.  She conveniently hadn’t worn underwear, either.  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said nonchalantly.  “I’m just here to spar with my mission partner.  It’s not my fault if he’s a horny, thigh-obsessed, sick little pussy puppy.”

Bucky’s eyes widened at her.  He suddenly sprang forward and tackled her, blocking most of the fall with his body before rolling them over until he was on top of her.  Y/N squirmed and struggled, trying to fight him off but failing miserably as his metal hand gripped both of her wrists and held her hands up above her head and firmly against the mat.  She tried to lift her legs enough to kick him off, but he positioned himself between her legs, keeping them spread wide so she couldn’t bend them high or wide enough to get at him with her feet.  His flesh hand gripped her throat and she gasped as he squeezed.

“Watch your dirty mouth, baby,” Bucky growled, his face an inch away from hers.  His eyes were dark, his nose scrunched and lips curled over his teeth like he was snarling at her.  He looked more dangerous to her than he ever had before, opening up a flood of conflicting emotions that had her body responding in strange ways.  As much as she was panicking at being so easily taken down, her hips were trembling with need, her pussy hot and throbbing at the danger.  “Wearing the smallest shorts with no underwear to try and throw me off.  Once again, proving that if anyone is sick in this relationship, it’s you.”  He kissed her hard, making her hum against mouth as he stole the breath from her lungs.  The kiss was all tongue and teeth, nipping at her lips and sucking on her tongue before quickly pulling away.  He squeezed her neck again and she opened her mouth wide to suck in a breath.  He leaned down and licked a tear that she was unaware had fallen down the side of her face.  “Look at you, so desperate you’re shaking beneath me.  Such a sick, horny, pretty little bitch.”

Y/N nodded, her wrists trying to twist out of his grip.  His flesh hand moved down slowly from her neck and over her chest, kneading her breasts roughly and rucking up her tank top and sports bra so her breasts were exposed before traveling down her torso to the rim of her shorts.  He yanked them down, maneuvering her legs so he could pull them all the way off so she was opened wide and splayed out naked for him.  Y/N was panting at his rough treatment.  They had been together a couple of times since that mission where she had teased him about getting a boner watching her fight, but it had never been this rough or needy before.  She had once again said too much, done too much, and pushed him too far.  This was punishment.

Bucky never let go of her wrists, his metal hand a literal vise pinning her against the mat.  His flesh hand felt her all over, his fingers teasing her cunt and clit before quickly pulling away, then he would lean down and bite or lick along sensitive spots on her body until she was a whining, moaning, crying mess.  

“Bucky…please!” she cried out after he edged her again, pulling his fingers away from her pussy.

She yelped as he slapped her puffy pussy lips.  “What did you call me?” he asked gravelly.

“I’m sorry!  I’m sorry,” she pleaded, trying to grind her hips up toward him, his hard cock tenting his sweats and brushing against her every time he moved.  “Please Sergeant!  I can’t, I can’t handle it, please…”

Bucky tickled the space above her pussy with the tips of his fingers, sliding them up her stomach, making her flinch, then kneaded her breasts again, pinching her nipples too hard one at a time.  She thrashed her head back and forth, biting her lower lip to keep herself from being too loud.  Then he slapped her tits, and she shuddered with a long groan.  “You’re my little slut, aren’t you?”

“YES!” she screamed.  “I’m your little slut, Sergeant!”

Bucky smiled.  “Good girl,” he said, then sunk three fingers deep inside her.  Y/N moaned loudly at finally being filled, her head wrenching back against the mat with a thud.  His thumb rubbed at her clit as his fingers squelched in and out of her, changing the pace randomly and sporadically curling his fingers deep inside her, brushing against the special spot and teasing her.  

“Sergeant, can I please cum?” Y/N begged, her legs moving up over his hips and hooking her ankles behind his ass.

“No,” Bucky murmured.

Y/N whimpered at the denial, trying hard to stave off her impending orgasm.  She decided to try something else.  “Sergeant, will you please fuck me with your cock?”  His eyes snapped up to look at her.  “Please?” she quickly added again.  “I want your thick, fat cock inside me.  I need it.  Please?”

Bucky paused for a second before removing his hand from her pussy and pushing down his sweats and boxers just far enough to release his cock.  Y/N moaned at the sight of it, hard, long and thick, pulsing with need like she was.  He stroked himself, wiping her wetness onto himself before rubbing the tip through her lower lips.  She shook again, desperate for him but trying not to move too much for fear that he would take it away.  

“This what you want, baby?” he teased her, rubbing her clit with the tip of his cock.

“Yeah, yes, Sergeant,” she whispered.  

“Is this what your pretty little pussy needs?” he asked, rutting his hips against her so his cock length ran up and down through her pussy lips.  Y/N nodded frantically, shivering each time the head of his cock would catch against her clit or at her entrance.  “Is this what my pretty little bitch needs?  So desperate for my cock.  You gonna take all of me?”  She nodded again, more tears falling down the sides of her face.  “But you’re not gonna cum til I say so, are you, slut?”

Y/N shook her head.  “No, I won’t cum til you say so, Sergeant.  Please!”  She knew how desperate and insane she sounded, but couldn’t find it in herself to care.  It was hard to believe that just a few weeks ago this would have been unfathomable to her.

Bucky hummed, then suddenly slammed himself all the way in with one hard thrust.  Y/N sobbed at finally being filled the way she wanted so perfectly like only he could.  He harshly blew out a puff of air, his eyes shut tight as he tried to keep himself composed.  “Jesus, baby.  Always so tight for me.”  Her pussy fluttered and he moaned.  “Don’t cum,” he grunted, his eyes opening and glaring at her in warning.

Y/N shook her head again.  “I won’t, I–mmh,” she moaned as he snapped his hips into her.  “I won’t,” she whined.  Bucky’s gaze raked over her, his flesh hand moving to grip and feel her thigh over his hip.  He rolled and thrust his hips into her at an agonizingly slow pace, letting her feel every inch of him moving in and out of her.  Y/N’s fingers were going numb from the tight grip of his metal hand around her wrists, and she whined again.  “Sergeant, can I please touch you?”  

Bucky looked like he was getting lost in the sensation of fucking her, and he absentmindedly nodded, his metal fingers releasing her wrists slowly.  She stretched and flexed her hands and fingers as she lowered her arms and reached up to cup the sides of his face.  Her nails scratched his beard and back into the hair at the nape of his neck, and he shivered at the feeling.  Her hands felt him down his back then tugged at the bottom of his shirt, which he quickly pulled off and flung it aside.  With his metal hand now free he used both hands to feel her up, the cool metal feeling soothing against her warm skin.  Her nails dug into his back as his thrusts got harder.  “I love it when you mark me up,” he groaned.  

Bucky’s metal hand moved back up towards her neck, and he gripped her throat while his flesh hand nestled at her pussy.  As his metal fingers slightly squeezed her throat his flesh fingers started flicking at her clit.  Y/N’s hips bucked under him, her legs starting to shake around his hips.  “Sergeant!  Please, if you keep doing that I’m gonna cum.  Please, can I cum?”  She was begging, something she never thought she would do.  “I’ve been so good for you, Sergeant, please?  Please please please please?”

His metal hand squeezed harder and she gasped, her eyes shutting tight.  His hand moved away and tapped her cheek hard, making her eyes snap back open in shock.  “You think you deserve to cum after teasing me?  After calling me a…what was it?  ‘A sick, little pussy puppy?’”  He was driving his hips into her impressively fast and hard, his flesh fingers never stopping on her clit.

Y/N whimpered.  “I’m sorry, Sergeant.”

Bucky smirked.  “I do love this pretty pussy,” he said, tapping her clit quickly with his fingers.  “So if that makes me a sick puppy, so be it.  But you will always be my pretty, little, desperate-for-my-cock-bitch, won’t you?”          

“Yeeesss,” she hissed when he roughly tapped her clit again.  “Yes, Sergeant.”

“That’s my good girl,” Bucky smiled.  His fingers started rubbing and flicking her clit fast, his thrusts getting more brutal by the second.  Her pussy fluttered around him dangerously and his metal hand went back to her throat, squeezing harder until her eyes rolled back.  “Cum, baby.  Cum on my cock, you desperate cumslut!”

Y/N finally let herself relax enough so that his fingers drove her over the edge and she came hard around him with a garbled scream, her entire body shaking as her vision went white.  She heard Bucky’s loud groan above her and then felt him pull out of her fast, his heavy breaths panting as he stroked himself to finish, then she felt his hot cum spurt onto her right thigh, then a little on her left thigh.  She whimpered, her body limp, nerves feeling shot with overstimulation and yet numb all at the same time.  She felt Bucky’s lips replace his metal hand, kissing the red marks his fingers had made.  

“Good girl…my good fucking girl,” he murmured, nis nose and lips nuzzling along her skin up to her mouth.  “Your thighs have never looked prettier.”

Y/N huffed a laugh, her eyes still closed as his metal hand pulled her by the chin to face upwards so he could kiss her deeply.  She hummed as he pulled away.  “Yes Sergeant.”

[misspelledwordswizard]

Good morning, afternoon or evening. I saw that your requests were open and I wanted to take the opportunity to make you one with one.

We all know that Time and Twilight are related in some way. So, my request was about how Time and Twi would react to finding out that reader is their descendant with some family and obviously platonic fluff

This is so cute! I believe both would be like "girl dad mode on" hehe Thank you for the request, I hope you like it <3

I had been in the group for a short time. I’m not sure how I ended up here, or why, I just know that suddenly I was having to hang out with nine heroes from Hyrule who all had the same name. Okay, I can handle a little adventure, I may be a farm girl, but being a hero has always been a dream of mine, it’s in my blood. Literally. 

From the moment that strange group told me their names, or rather, name, and explained that they came from different times, I was already sure that I was related to at least one of them. Well, at least I know that I’m descended from a hero named Link who saved Hyrule. 

The only problem is that I have no idea which of them I’m related to, especially when they all look so similar and the timelines are so confusing! That’s why I decided to keep this information to myself until I knew for sure. 

— Oh, Malon sent hugs to everyone. – Time said, as he read the letter recently delivered by the postman. I’m still curious about how he does it, but I’m more interested in the name unknown to me. 

— Malon? Who is this? 

— Oh, that’s right, you haven’t met her yet. Malon is my wife. – The Old Man answered me, with a somewhat proud smile on his face, he must love her very much. 

— Oh, and she’s the owner of the LonLon Ranch, back in the Old Man’s era! – Wind added, this fact might be nothing more than a curiosity for most, but it ended up meaning more than that to me. 

If Time is married to the owner of a ranch, it’s likely that his descendants inherited it, and over time it may have become my family’s ranch. Could the Hero of Time be my ancestor? 

— Oh, and maybe you’ve already come to this conclusion too, but Twilight also comes from a ranch, it’s not for nothing that we call him Rancher. – The Champion completed, and only then did I realize the obvious. 

But then, which one of them is my ancestor? I could try to find out more details about it, but it would take too long if I did it that way, so I decided to open my mouth, maybe they can help me. 

— Well, then it’s likely that I’m a descendant of one of you two. 

All eyes turned to me, I think the two in question almost broke their necks with that move. Was that really that surprising? Soon everyone was around me, curious. 

— Why do you say that? – Time was the first to ask. Fair enough. 

— Well, I always knew I was a descendant of a Link, I just didn’t know which one of you, and since I come from a ranch too, I think it’s quite likely. 

— Why didn’t you say so before? – Twilight asked, I figured this question would come. 

— I didn’t want to create expectations, or else I might upset everyone and not get any answers. But I still don’t know which of you two are my relatives. 

A silence settled in as everyone looked at each other, as if they were deciding what to say. They knew something. 

— Hm, how can we say this? – Warriors began. – Both of them! 

I blinked in confusion, many doubts swirling in my mind. Both of them? But they were quicker to answer them. 

— It turns out that I am a descendant of the Old Man, so either you are a descendant of him and my ancestor, or a descendant of both of us. – Twilight explained, and then things began to fall into place. Indeed, there were doubts in my family as to whether we were descendants of one or two Heroes, with this the answer becomes clear. 

— In that case, I’m almost certain that both of you are my ancestors, I really wasn’t sure if I was descended from one or both of you. – I explained finally, reaching the final conclusion. Wow, a descendant of two Links, who would have thought. 

They both looked at each other for a moment, they even seemed to be talking telepathically, but it seems that their choices of actions were mutual, because in the next second I was being crushed in a hug by two strong men. I can’t breathe, it’s definitely a hug worthy of a father. 

 I was finally released from the grip and able to breathe again, which I did dramatically, drawing laughter from some of the boys. 

— I can hardly believe this, is this how you felt when you met me? – The Rancher asked Time, with a smile on his face. 

— Hm, basically. Oh, Malon will love meeting you! I’ll write to her about it. – The old man seemed happier than I had ever seen him in the short time I had known him. 

I myself was still processing all of this. I had not just met one of my ancestors, but two of them? Before I knew it, I was smiling like an idiot. It was like I now had two more dads. Even if one of them was almost my age, which was a little strange. 

— Oh, when I can, I want to show you the family books about you, so you can check the information! – I said excitedly and they happily agreed with me. 

— The food is ready! – Wind said, drawing their attention. 

— Come, sit near us, we have a lot to talk about! – Twilight said, guiding me by the hand to the rest of the group. 

— Yes, little one, tell us everything about you and your family. – Time completed, resting a hand on my shoulder comfortingly. 

Who would have thought I would have such a cool family walking with me all this time.