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multi-fandom-imagine · 3 days ago

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“This Is Your Fɑult, Weɑsley!” || Fred Weasley ||

A/n: Au where Fred survived

It was a hot summer afternoon, and you were well past your due date. Your belly had grown impossibly large, and you were miserable. Every step felt like you were carrying a Quaffle under your shirt, and the triplets had been making their presence known with relentless kicks and movement.

You were stretched out on the couch, propped up by every pillow Fred could find, groaning dramatically while fanning yourself with an old issue of The Daily Prophet.

“This is your fault, Weasley,” You grumbled, turning your head just enough to glare at your husband.

Fred, who had been attempting to fluff yet another pillow behind you, paused mid-motion, his eyebrows shooting up. “My fault? What did I do?”

You gave him a look. A look that could turn a man to stone.

Fred gulped. “Okay, yeah, fair enough.”

Rosie and Leo were sitting on the floor, flipping through their picture books, while Henry toddled around, occasionally bringing you random objects like his stuffed dragon and a spoon from the kitchen as if that might help.

You sighed, rubbing your belly. “I swear, Fred, if these babies don’t come soon, I’m going to hex you. Right in your sleep.”

Fred gave you an amused grin. “Oh, come on, Bee. You don’t mean that.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Try me.”

Sensing the seriousness in your voice, Fred cleared his throat and grabbed the enchanted mirror from the side table. “Right then, let’s call Mum. She’s dealt with plenty of Weasley-sized babies and she might have some ideas.”

A few moments later, Molly’s face appeared in the mirror, her warm and motherly smile filling the glass. “Hello, dears! Oh, Y/N, how are you feeling?”

You groaned. “Like I’m carrying three fully grown dragons in my stomach, Molly. Please tell me you have some secret Weasley family trick to get these babies out.”

Molly chuckled knowingly. “Oh, love, I know that feeling all too well. You’ve tried walking?”

Fred nodded. “She tried walking across the flat, and Henry tried to chase her, so that didn’t go well.”

Molly hummed thoughtfully. “Alright, what about spicy food? Sometimes a strong meal can help things along.”

You made a face. “If one more person suggests curry, I swear—”

Molly held up her hands, laughing. “Alright, alright! Well, dear, there’s always the other method.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Other method?”

Fred’s eyes widened as he suddenly realized where his mum was going with this. “Mum!” he yelped.

Molly, ever the composed matriarch, simply smiled knowingly. “Oh, come now, Fred. You’re the reason she’s in this mess you might as well help her out of it.”

You let out a groan, covering your face with your hands while Fred turned bright red.

Leo, completely oblivious to the deeper meaning, piped up, “Daddy, what Mima mean? What method?”

Fred coughed, standing up abruptly. “Right, well, I think we’re done here Mum, thanks for the help! Lovely chat, really!”

Molly’s laughter rang through the mirror before the connection cut off, leaving Fred standing there looking thoroughly scandalized.

Leo and Rosie blinked at their dad, clearly still curious.

“But Daddy” Rosie started, her big blue-green eyes full of curiosity.

“Nope!” Fred cut in quickly, grabbing Henry and plopping him onto his hip like he was desperate for a distraction. “Absolutely not, conversation over. Who wants biscuits? I’ll get biscuits!”

Leo and Rosie cheered as Fred fled to the kitchen, leaving you laughing until another kick from the triplets made you groan again.

You shook your head, resting a hand on your belly. “Come on, little ones. Any time now. Please.”

With any luck, the next suggestion wouldn’t involve anything that turned Fred the color of a tomato.

The flat was eerily quiet. For the first time in months, there were no little feet running through the halls, no babbling from Henry, no shrieking giggles from the twins. Molly had whisked the children away for a few nights, giving Brooke and Fred some much-needed rest before the triplets arrived.

You, however, were not resting.You were pacing the bedroom, one hand on your lower back, the other supporting your massive bump, grumbling under your breath.

“This is ridiculous,” you muttered. “I’ve tried everything walking, tea, even that godforsaken curry Angelina brought over—”

Fred, lounging on the bed with a cocky smirk, cleared his throat. “Well, love, there was one last suggestion.”

You shot him a tired glare. “I can’t believe your mother suggested that.”

Fred shrugged. “She’s got a point, Bee. We do have a track record of being, er, efficient together.” He waggled his eyebrows.

You huffed but couldn’t stop the slight smirk playing on your lips. “You’re unbelievable.”

Fred grinned, standing up and wrapping his arms around you from behind, his hands resting gently on your bump. “I’m just saying if you’re desperate…”

You turned in his arms, raising an eyebrow. “We do need to get these babies moving.”

Fred grinned wider. “That’s the spirit, love.”

And It Actually Works

Hours later, the flat was dim, the warmth of the night wrapping around them as they lay tangled in bed. You were still catching your breath, your body finally relaxed for the first time in weeks. Fred, beside you, was grinning like he’d just won a Quidditch match.

“Well,” he said smugly, stretching his arms behind his head. “That was fun.”

You let out a sleepy laugh. “It was.”

You barely finished your sentence before a sharp tightening gripped your belly.

Your eyes flew open.

Another wave of pressure.

Fred, still basking in post-bliss, didn’t notice at first. “Y’know, I think Mum was onto someth—” a blissful smile on his face.

You suddenly grabbed his wrist hard.

“Fred.”

Fred turned his head, smirk still in place. “Yeah, love?"

Your eyes were wide.

“I think it worked.”

Fred blinked. “Worked...what worked?”

Another contraction hit, and you groaned, gripping the sheets. "Fred!"

Fred sat bolt upright. “Wait. Wait. Now?!”

You let out a sharp breath. “YES, NOW!”

Fred scrambled out of bed so fast he nearly fell. “Right! Right! Hospital! Bags! Where’s my wand—” He spun in circles, fully panicked.

You gritted your teeth through another contraction, rolling your eyes. “Fred. Calm down.”

Fred, not calm in the slightest, shoved on his trousers at record speed. “How am I supposed to be calm?! We just I mean, that was And now THE BABIES?!”

You groaned again, gripping the headboard. “Fred Weasley, if you don’t get me to St. Mungo’s in the next ten minutes, I swear—”

Fred, now completely in survival mode, grabbed your hospital bag, his wand, and carried her into the Floo network and Off to St. Mungo’s

Seconds later, they tumbled into the hospital’s emergency wing, with you gripping Fred’s shoulder as Healers rushed toward them.

“Mrs. Weasley, contractions started?” one of them asked, guiding you toward a wheelchair.

You let out a breathy laugh. “Yeah, and you’ll never believe what did the trick.”

Fred, still red-faced and slightly too proud, smirked. “Let’s just say thanks, Mum.”

And as they wheeled you down the corridor, Fred couldn’t help but grin to himself.

Because damn, Molly Weasley really did know everything.

#drabbles #drabble #fred #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x reader #HP #hp x y/n #hp x you #hp x reader #harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #JKR is a hoe

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uracutieraka · 2 days ago

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Bakugo Katsuki who finally gets a date with his support course crush!

find part one here!

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

Bakugo Katsuki started acting completely different after he met you. His once perfect (to his standards at least) reputation was now ruined. The reason? Midoriya's cute support course friend.

Ever since you waltzed over to him with your sweet smile, and oh so pretty eyes, he finds himself nearly bewitched by you. It was driving him absolutely insane!

What was even more insane though, was watching this all unfold from and outside perspective.

Denki found himself nearly throwing up anytime you were even brought up in front of his friend, not because he thought you were gross, in fact it was the opposite. He found how down bad Bakugo was for you down right disturbing.

The normally mean and arrogant man seemed to do a 180° personality change when you came around, or even got mentioned in passing.

Denki especially hated it when you had now found yourself a regular member of their little lunch table. It just meant 40 minutes of watching Bakugo mindlessly nod his head with a glazed over look in his eyes, every. time. you. spoke.

"Gross." Denki says aloud as he bites into his sandwich. Eyes squinting as he watches the two of you like a hawk.

Sero looks over at his electric friend with a knowing smirk.

"You are so jealous Kaminari."

"Am not!"

The ruckus on the other side of the booth has you and Bakugo breaking away from your vicious flirting to study the source of the commotion.

His friends are sitting across from you arguing back and forth as Kirishima continues eating as if all was normal.

"Is everything okay?"

The boys now look over at the sound of the worried voice to see you. You have a concerned look on your face as you dart your eyes back and forth between them.

Denki looks over at his friend to see what his reaction will be to the boys interrupting you and him. To his dismay, bakugo has that stupid dopey smile on his face as he watched your every move.

Ok so maybe Denki was slightly jealous, but like, who wouldn't be? You were pretty and obviously attentive, smart but not arrogant, and worst of all, you liked Bakugo of all people.

Maybe he wouldn't be so upset at the situation if you liked Kirishima or literally anyone but the brooding Blond. It's not that he didn't want his friend to be happy, it's just that he didn't want him to get a girlfriend before he could.

So yeah maybe he was a bit jealous, but it wasn't that crazy.

Sero is quick to tell you everything is fine and to go back to what you were doing and you're quick to flash him a smile and nod of acknowledgment before turning back to the boy you were originally sat over here for.

You watch from the corners of your eyes as his friends go back to arguing but this time they're whisper yelling at each-other. You yet again lean slightly past Bakugo to see the red head sat behind him.

Kirishima only takes his eyes up from his tray of food when he hears his name being said. He looks up with a mouth full of food at the sound of your voice in his ears.

He takes a moment to hurriedly chew his food and swallow before responding.

"So, I was thinking, what if we just added some horns to your head gear instead of you always having to style your hair?"

Bakugo watched you interact with his classmates and feels himself pout a bit at the lack of attention.

You quickly glance at him through your peripheral vision and can see his bottom lip poking out as his eyebrows are furrowed together.

You decide to leans ever so slightly closer to the side of him so your knees are no longer the only parts of you touching.

He flushes and you feel him take a deep breath once your hip and leg is completely flush with his.

You now use your hand on his upper arm to support yourself as you look at Kirishima.

You and Kirishima share a few ideas back and forth with each other about the schematics of his hero costume.

You only end it when you see Bakugo roll his eyes.

You're quick to check your watch and stand up to excuse yourself.

Bakugo feels himself grow disappointed at the idea, a sad frown crossing his face to prove it.

You shoot him that intoxicating smile and ask him if he'd like to walk you to class.

"It's just awfully far and the walk is so boring by myself."

Bakugo yet again giggles at the invite and cleans up his lunch. He take the tray from your hands and you silently laugh at the way he puffs out his chest when you thank him and call him a gentleman.

Once he properly disposes of the trays you grab his wrist and quickly make your exit from the crowded area. He allows himself to be dragged off by you with a wide smile and soft eyes, chuckle bubbling out of him at your eagerness to leave.

If you told Bakugo a month ago that he'd be acting like one of those corny shojou manga guys he probably would've tried to fight you, but here he is now. Eyes never leaving the back of you as you lead him through the vast halls of UA.

After a few minutes of walking you slow down and drop his wrist, coming instead to stand at his side. He's kind of sad at the loss of contact with you but its quickly dissipated when you lean into him and nudge him slightly with your shoulder.

He looks down at you with a smile on his face and you give him the same expression as you two continue dow the halls towards your classroom.

Before the two of you turn down the hallways to your class, you stop him and lean your back on the wall.

He gives you a suspicious look and you tuck you hair behind your ear before talking.

"I don't want my teacher to see us yet.," a dry laugh comes from you before you decide it's best if you maybe actually looked at him while taking. He swears he can feel his heart stop (ifykyk) when you look back at him with a blush on your face and big doe eyes.

"I just wanted to say that I think you're super cute and wanted to know if you were maybe free tonight?"

He can feel his chest tighten at your words and he inhales at the sudden pit of anxiety in his abdomen.

He was free tonight, as he was most nights anyways.

"Yeah, are you?" He cringes internally at the dumb question, obviously you were. You wouldn't be asking him if you were busy. He feels a sense of relief when your siren like giggle swims around in head, ringing in his ears.

"Actually, I'm pretty busy tonight. I'm hanging out with this guy later then have some work to do on his friends costumes." You're tone is flat and he takes you seriously.

You watch as heartbreak over takes his face.

You playfully scoff and swat his chest.

"I'm talking about you Katsuki!" Another heavenly laugh graces his ears and he almost cries tears of joy from the sound alone.

"Oh." He says, heat creeping up his neck and ears as he awkwardly rubs the back of his neck.

"Pick me up at my dorm at 7:30?"

Normally, if you were anyone else, he would shut them down with s 'no' and the fact he goes to bed at 8 p.m. sharp every night. Though he quickly hears a desperate 'yes' tumble out his mouth before he can say anything else.

"Perfect!" You say, standing on your tippy toes to lean up and give him a soft peck on his cheek, something you had been doing since the day you met him. Though today you wore lipstick, something you normally skipped due to the inconvenience of it.

The dark red color stains his skin and you giggle before turning and walking off to class. The bell chimes and you turn around to holler at him.

"You have 10 minutes before you're supposed to be on the training course by the way Kacchan!" a mischievous smile tugs its way on your face as you wink and blow him a kiss before disappearing into your classroom.

He watches you with a fascinated look before he fully registers your words.

'Shit.' He thinks before bolting off to his class.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

"You're late Bakugo." Aizawa dead pans as he walks up to the rest of his class on the platform.

He rolls his eyes and goes to respond before he's cut off again.

"Hey, what's on your face?" Midoriya asks, pointing to his cheek.

A few other students crowd him to get a look at the mysterious red mark.

"Is that a lipstick stain! What were you and that support course girl doing?!" Mineta pipes up.

Bakugo goes to hit him but is stopped when Mina goes to wipe it off.

He shoots himself up into the air and away from all of them.

They all watch in shock at his quick reflexes.

"Don't touch me idiot!"

Mina rolls her eyes and finally Denki chimes in.

"Bakugo, dude, get a grip it's just makeup."

Him and Denki ended up fighting so bad that he has to call you with the other boy to explain that he'll be there at 8 to pick you up instead, due to the fact him and Denki had to help Aizawa grade papers and clean the dorm showers as punishment for the disruption in class.

You giggle when he finally does come around to get you later that night. He has his hands shoved into his pockets and a nervous look on his face that seems to subside when you come out the front door and yet again leave a small kiss to the side of his face. He swears that you must have secret powers because of the way he gets so flustered anytime you even just breathe in his direction.

He hadn't heard the end of it in weeks, his friends constantly making fun of him for his rapid change in behavior. He didn't care though, which he even found weird himself, though he would never admit that to anyone.

He admires your cleaned up appearance, though he found it cute when you had your hair thrown up messily and grease stains on your face from whatever project you were currently working on in class.

"So, Katsuki," The sound of his actual name causes his ears to perk up and another woozy smile to sit on his face. "There's something that I want to show you."

You reach out and place your hand gently on his shoulder and run it down his arm, fingers lazily intertwining with his. You study how he reacts to your touch. You would be lying if you said you didn't throughly enjoy watching the notoriously angry man fold underneath the slightest bit of attention from you.

Though, you also can't help how it seems like your brain just turns off when you talk to him, a ditzy side of you that you didn't even know existed seeps out of you. It's like you can't help yourself. The desire to see that lovesick grin cover his face is all consuming.

You watch as he eventually gives you a few slow nods, showing you his approval to seeing whatever it is you want to show him. His eyes never leave where your hand is connected with his.

He thinks that this is probably the most amount of affection he's ever shown or accepted for anything.

You two walk in silence as you lead him to the school building, only when you scan a card to get in does he stand firm in his place with a weary look on his face. You turn back with a small frown at his solid stance.

"What's wrong?"

"Why are we at the school?"

You let go of him and turn around with and eyeball and a sigh, he knows it's just you poking fun at him due to the way the corners of your lips twitch up a bit as you speak.

"I don't know if you know this but support course students have 24 hour access to the school."

He in fact did not know this. You watch as his face contorts in confusion so you explain why as you rescan your ID card and open the door for him.

"Well for starters, our teacher is always here. He practically lives in the work room." He watches as a small snort leaves your body at the idea of your teacher living at school. "And it's also hard to stop us from working on our projects outside of class. The principle decided it was best to give us full access after a students dorm almost caught on fire when he plugged in his power saw." You continue to mindlessly ramble about how dumb he was for even attempting to do something like that in a small dorm, and how it's frustrating to have to walk all the way here in the middle of the night just to tinker around with small gadgets you could work on in bed.

He doesn't really hear anything you're saying though as his eyes are focused on the way your lips move and eyes seem to glimmer in the florescent lighting of the school halls.

He now fully takes in the way your hair is neatly styled and laid over your shoulders, and the way you have makeup on. He feels a since of pride at the idea of you getting all dolled up just for him to see. Though he quickly feels his knees buckle when you suddenly stop and push yourself up to him and wrap your arms around his neck before giving him a quick hug.

When you pull away you turn your head in an attempt to shy away from his gaze before you start talking to him.

He watches as you mess with the hem of your awfully short summer dress.

His face flushes at the way he can't tear his eyes off where the hem of the dress sways around your thighs.

You finally stop your gentle swaying and take a deep breath.

It's only when the flowy material stops moving completely that he looks back at you, he has to take in a harsh breath at how you look.

Sure you had looked at him head on before, and sometimes you had even bit your lips and blinked up at him! But this? This was something else. You had a wavering smile on your face as your cheeks were now full blown red. For once you were the overly flustered one.

"So uhm, Katsuki, I've been working on this for a couple weeks, and uhm, I'm really nervous to show you," You give him and awkward close eyed smile as you wipe your hands on the sides of your dress, because of this you miss the way he physically swoons at how adorable you look right now. "and it's not like its super amazing or anything! So don't make fun of me, okay?"

"No promises." A cheeky grin now hung on his face, it's the most confident you've seen him act around you, but like always it's cut short by you laughing and rejoining your hands to keep pulling him to your classroom.

You open the door and cringe at how squeaky it is. You turn back and put your finger up to your lip, signaling for him to be quiet.

"Mr. Majima?" Your voice chirps and echos through the metal work shop.

Bakugo wonders who you're calling out for.

He looks around the space, eyeing all the different things in wonder. He's shocked he's never been down here before. He looks back when he hears a loud crashing noise and sees someone pop around the corner.

"Oh! Y/n! Hi! I see you brought your, what'dya call him? Oh that's right! Your friend boy." A teasing tone is laced in the young teachers tone as you loudly groan and flick a lose nail up at the metal gear on his head.

"Bakugo Katsuki!," The teacher he now knows is Power Loader makes his way over to the blond. He watches as the man walks around him and inspects him a bit. Mumbling under his breath. He now turns back to you. "Interesting."

Bakugo feels like a bug getting crushed under someones foot at the choice of words.

"Whatever, Higari. Why don't you go tell my dad about how you nearly blew me up this morning with your stupid new invention." An eye roll and scoff has the older man backing off. Mumbling under his breath about how you were a spoiled brat.

Bakugo watches as he quickly leaves from the way you two had just entered.

"So you know him personally?" His voice holds a slight tremble at the new idea of how completely alone you two were.

You dryly chuckle and begin digging around, what he assumes, is your work station.

"Yeah, him and my dad have been friends since like forever ago. He's actually the one who convinced me to come here to UA. My top pick was a sister school in America."

Bakugo takes in the new information and stores it in his brain under a big fat file with your name on it.

"Wow," he shoves his hands back deep in his pockets. "America? That's far." He wants to slam his face into the wall for being so awkward.

You let out a frustrated huff before turning back to him with a laugh.

"Yeah it is!," you pout your lip out and tap your chin for a moment, lost in thought. "That means I wouldn't have met you! I guess staying has some perks." You send him a small smile before your more focused and frustrated scowl causes your brows to furrow close together, turning back to searching for whatever you had been looking for to begin with.

His eyes scan over the papers lazily tacked and stuck to your wall.

Sketches of Kirishima's costume are laid at the top of all papers. He steps forward to get a better look as you continue throwing drawers open and rummaging through them.

He slides the papers over and now realizes you had sketches of most of his friends costumes, with notes about what you could take away and add. He smiles softly before his eyes catch on a paper tucked underneath all your other ones. He sneakily glances at you through the corners of his eyes to make sure you're still preoccupied. His hand quickly shoves the paper to the side and double checks you didn't hear.

When he's 100% positive you're still busy he allows himself to fully look down. He feels his eyes get wide as he's greeted with the image.

Heat rushes up in his face as his eyes scan over it. Your name is scrawled all over it, but that's not what has him all giddy inside. His last name is written so prettily next to it. He thought his last name was so simple and boring but seeing it like this. In your handwriting? He's convinced it's the most beautiful name ever written, ever.

You stand up quickly and he jumps away from the desk, like he had gotten caught doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing.

Your eyes quickly fall onto where he was just standing looking down at, and widen. Heat shooting all over your body in embarrassment.

You jump over and shove papers around to cover it up.

You're apologizing to him frantically, but he doesn't care. He's looking at you like you just hung the stars up in the sky. The idea of you sitting there and doodling that over and over again yet again bring a cocky since of pride over him.

He takes the moment of clarity to show his true self a bit.

"So? Y/n Bakugo, huh?" He sees you deflate in on yourself and he suddenly feels bad for teasing you. He stutters in his head before deciding to say something else.

"It, uhm, it's a good fit." He was definitely going to make Kirishima punch him in the face later.

He watches as you now tilt your head and give him a confused stare.

"Our names...together..."

Oh my god why is he so nervous?

He watches as you bring your hands up to cover your mouth as you stifle a laugh. After a moment of fighting it you finally let it out. He watching with curious eyes until you stop and look at him, now putting your hands on your hips and standing up straighter.

"This is so awkward." The remnants of a chuckle slowly die down after you're done talking.

He feels slightly relieved at the fact you think so too, and that you also were nervous.

Bakugo hadn't spoked much since you met him, which always perplexed you for a few reasons.

He was known for being a loud and obnoxious student.

He was extremely talkative over text.

And lastly, he just overall seemed like the type to like hearing himself talk.

You hummed and motion for him to follow you. As you're walking you begin talking again.

"Ok, so like I said, you can't make fun of me for this, it's not my best work but I can always tinker with it later."

He's so busy looking around that he doesn't see you stop, causing himself to bump into you slightly.

He lets a sorry out under his breath as he goes to stand you up straight.

You tell him its okay before telling him to close his eyes.

"Why?" You can tell he's unsure about this but he reluctantly does it anyways when you tell him he'll see in a moment.

You walk around and place your hands on his shoulders guiding him forward a few feet. He feels cold when you let go of him.

He listens as you rummage around for a moment, he pokes his eye open but you're quick to run over and put your hands over them.

"Hey! No peaking!" You slightly uncover his eyes by sliding your fingers open. He has them screwed shut now.

You pull away from him and continue setting up.

"Okay!" You chirp out after a moment. He opens his eyes hesitantly.

He looks around for a moment before his eyes land on a pile of fabric neatly folded on a table.

"Well, aren't you gonna look at it?" You use your arms to motion between him and the present.

He walk towards it, slowly and unsure. You sigh and step forward, extending your hand out to him. He takes it with no hesitation. You guide him to stand over what he now notices as the base for his costume.

He gives you wide eyes.

"Is this..." His voice trails off as he brings his fingers to run over the soft material.

"Yep! A completely new type of fabric that's never been invented before!"

He was looking between you and the clothes in awe and shock. Did you really go out of your way to do this for him?

You clear your throat and begin to tell him about the process.

"So basically it's completely flame resistant while simultaneously feeling like 100% cotton. It also traps the sweat on your skin in the arm area, since that's how your quirk functions."

He had mentioned a brief complaint about the material of his costume to you in passing while you two were texting after his training one day.

He hated the feel of the current flame proof material that the support company had provided for him. It was stiff and itchy. But he couldn't wear his regular cotton shirts due to the fact they burned right up when he used his quirk.

"Oh and also.." You reach behind you and pull out a box, it's wrapped in cute pink wrapping paper with unicorns on it. He chuckles at the girly design as he grabs It out of your extended hands.

"Sorry, it was the only kind I had on hand." You shrug slightly and he laughs quietly and nods 'no'

"It's cute, very you."

You blush at the idea of him perceiving you enough to think something was 'very you'.

He stares at it for a moment.

"Open it." You whisper and he briefly flickers his eyes up at you. You have a soft smile on your face but your eyes are bright and excited.

He's gentle opening it. Using a quick finger to slide under the tape and carefully pull the paper off. You think it's cute the way he's so delicate and coordinated. He slides the top of the box off and can feel a familiar lump in the back of his throat, he's quick to swallow it down and look back up at you.

"Did you seriously make this? By hand? With your own brain?" You laugh at his boyish excitement.

You teasingly tap your temple and spout off a witty remark.

"All me baby. 100% the real thing too."

He looks back down in the box. They don't look like anything exciting or crazy but they were in fact the opposite.

To anyone else they would look like regular earplugs, but to you and him they were the invention that could potentially save his hearing in the long run.

"They tune out loud explosions, and any smaller ones. There's a small bracelet like band in the long sleeve I made you that can detect the size and estimated impact of an explosion by the temperature of heat that radiates on your body therefore calculating important information that then gets sent to the earphones to effectively muffle the sounds of the blasts."

You're so beautiful when you talk smart.

His eyes widen as he realizes he said that out loud and not in his head. For the nth time tonight alone he feels his face flush in embarrassment.

You stop your rambling as you turn to look at him.

"What?" Your voice is sweet and a teasing smile plays at your mouth.

He decides that if there was anytime to stand his ground it was now, but as he goes to talk the words seem to suddenly be stolen straight out of his mouth. You had taken his moment of weakness to close the distance between the two of you. Your hands wrapping around both of his biceps, giving them a slight squeeze as you push your face up into his.

"You think i'm beautiful?" Your voice is in a low whisper as you look at him with hooded eyes.

He stutters over his words at the proximity.

"Y-yeah," he take a deep breath. "of course I do."

You let out a quiet titter and lean in. Pressing a quick and chaste kiss to his mouth.

You pull back quickly though, because the doors reopen.

You both look across the large room to see a few of your classmates with your teacher.

"Aha! So you are with Bakugo Katsuki!" An accusatory finger points at you as your friend yells across the room at you.

Bakugo looks at you and you give him a nervous shrug.

"I told her that I wasn't seeing you tonight," you drop your voice low and lean over with a hand covering your mouth. "She doesn't like you because of what you said at the sports festival that one time."

He internally kicks himself for being such a douchebag back then.

"Whatever!," You shout back, making your way towards the man that was hidden behind your three friends. "Higari! You seriously went and snitched on me?" He watches as you stomp towards your dads friend with an annoyed look.

The man is quick to shuffle even closer behind the small wall of your friends, a sign of fear.

Bakugo chuckles as he looks back down to the box in his hands, then over to the clothes on the table. He now realized he had a new life goal, one that was far more important than becoming the number one hero. Bakugo Katsuki was going to marry you one day.

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notenderlaith · 17 hours ago

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It's pretty jarring bc I'm very much living in the consequences of trying to resist while being surrounded by people who are completely unmotivated to do so and its enraging.

I'm homeless and when I'm hanging out with fellow queer homeless kids (17-21) I asked what are they going to do about the laws being put in place and I got "move" and "wait until I'm financially stable and donate to charity" and the way I felt my stomach sink in that moment keeps me up.

Like, YOU are the prey. Then I hang out with my boyfriend who is white middle class and he is completely oblivious to the political climate and how it is tearing me and people like me apart.

It doesn't help that I moved to some of the richest and whitest places in the country (as a refugee from the deep south) but I'm losing my mind bc if theres anything the deep south taught me is that its not *actually* about who or what you are, its just the excuse. And once all the minorities are gone the rich white are next. NONE of us are safe, and yet I talk to people about the fascist rise here like they're a brick wall.

I've now resorted to asking where will they draw the line? When will they step in? And I'll get nothing, then I follow "would you do something if they started lining up people on the street and shooting them?" and I always get "of course". So is that where we start? Is that where we are finally gonna act? So holding people captive for years simply for their existence is fine. Making it a criminal to be unhoused. Making it a crime for teachers to call their students by any name other than whats on their birth certificate and pronouns related to their sex assigned at birth and removing job security from teachers so that they can be fired on the spot without reason is fine? (this is an active law in Arkansas, I know because that law passing is exactly why I fled). This and more is completely okay? Those are things that affect me personally and while I have plenty of intersectionalities, I'm privileged in many ways as well.

I'm tired of being the one guy in small bumass communities who gets arrested and put in institutions over and over and over only for the years to pass and see this nation still fall apart.

None of us can do it alone. How do I make it obvious that it's important for EVERYONE to participate in the liberation of our people.

"Why don't Americans riot?" Which Americans cuz Black people did in 2020 (and many years prior lol) and white people responded with getting back-the blue-bumper stickers

#going fucking psycho over this #im in pure anguish most days

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passmethatcokezero · 2 days ago

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hot and bothered... (18+ // woozi!friends with benefits au)

jihoon x fem!reader 2.7k words warnings: smut. minors dni! bff!woozi is hot and bothered at work so bff!you came to the rescue, dry humping, blowjob, needy jihoon cos why not, made so quick cos I was missing him and he has been living in my mind rent free since the day i saw him on the carts ( i wasnt same since then and thoughts have been thunk so here's a fraction of those thoughts ), just a short one, but thinking of making a part two continuation. enjoy!

“You alright?” The silence breaks, as the words from your mouth betrayed yourself. You didn’t really want to speak first, although you did feel the air has now gotten a little lighter compared earlier.

It was Seungkwan’s stupid plan; the guys had been sick of staying up all night after hours of practice for a few days now just to please their dear producer. No one can seem to thaw him, moreso pinpoint where the tension is rooted from. Obviously, it was self-inflicted pressure. Jihoon can’t understand why nobody seems to meet his expectations lately and it got bad to the point of Seokmin blaming himself for what seemed like delays but aren’t as they still got plenty of time before the next comeback. Seungkwan, hurt, seeing his talented friend’s self-esteem chase tears down his cheeks, stepped up by calling you over because “maybe you can do something about your best friend,” as he said.

Jihoon sighed as he slumps his body deep in his chair. You’ve made your presence known since earlier when Soonyoung was trying to ease the tension but you kept your mouth shut or else Jihoon might explode knowing you’re just going to take the poor boy’s side who was even more in tears brought therein by your comforting strokes on his arm. “You came here for what exactly?”

“Excuse me?” you scoffed at his words. “Seungkwan called me. For some reason I thought I was coming for a celebration and yet…”

Silence takes over once again. The boys had long been gone since Bumzu initiated that everyone should take a breather first, and secretly asking you to stay and maybe help clear up your friend’s mind. “I don’t even know why the boys kept on doing this, okay? Suddenly all the pressure’s on me whenever you’re acting up.”

You did not want to say it, but it had been a long day at work and hearing his snarky voice ticked you in a bad way.

“I am just tired.” Jihoon says almost immediately, as if not wanting you to say anything more. He massaged his temples and continued, “...tired as fuck.”

“But that does not excuse that kind of attitude!” you stood from the couch, rising with the tension inside the room. “You’re being too hard on the boys and yourself. Again.” You cursed under your breath, realizing the cringy tone that just left your mouth. The last time the same exact nagging tone came out, Jihoon’s anxiety was having a field day in his brain just like earlier, and you did not expect what happened after.

And then it came to you. Soon you were flooded with flashbacks from what happened that night: Jihoon aggressively pinning you by the door, meaning to actually open it and let you out, when all of a sudden you pulled him into an embrace in an attempt to calm him down, crashing your lips to his after a long eye-fucking, breath kissing when you caught him off guard, blushing from the sudden warmth. Not long after he responded, kissing you hard as if you were not just shedding tears arguing with him over his sharp words when you were just asking him to simply breathe during a heated exchange with Soonyoung over the phone. The kiss went wild yet slowly turned comfortable as he kept on apologizing, feeling your hot tears meet his burning red cheeks. You figured he needed it that time, like a de-stressor of some sorts, and so you let his mouth conquer yours as a way to help.

That kiss went longer than what friends could actually share. But if it's the only way to keep your friend sane that moment, you suppose you can let him use you as long as he is not going to be weird about it right after. Which he did, or so you thought.

Because that day never left his mind. He was not sure why you let him kiss you like that that night, nor why you did not even bother to ask about it days, weeks after. A bit hurt that it seemed like a casual thing for you, but for him it meant healing, washing away the anxiety clouding his thinking. That moment stayed on his mind unhealthily long, almost turned into songs he would never write and let you hear, even causing him to get wet dreams for quite a while. But of course, no one could know. Not about the kiss. Not even his budding feelings towards his best friend.

“Jihoon-ah…” you exhaled, turning his swivel to face you. “I can help, Just… tell me how..”

Both of you had the same thing in mind, he needed you just like that night. But why does he find it hard to admit it?

The guy blushed in pink, avoiding your eyes at all cost, acting as if in deep-thought. “I…”

“Look at me,” he obeys in a second, but his eyes can't help but fall into your lips inches away from him. “Do you want…. my help?”

He nods subtly as an answer, but you can’t just accept that. You needed him firm, an answer to also clear your doubts about the way his eyes are glued to your lips, his ears blushed to the reddest of red, and the way his adam’s apple bobbed up and down when you leaned in closer: is he nervous because he’s uncomfortable? or was he nervous because you suddenly make him be?

“Yeah…” his breath hitches, the side of your lips upturns.

“Then say it—”

“I need you,” he reveals his innermost desire as he scrambles to his feet and catches your lips like he has been waiting for it for centuries.

Just like the first time, the kiss deepens instantly as you two found a comfortable position on the couch, you settling on his lap, arms around his shoulders. You two couldn't even care less if the door had been left unlocked when the people had left. It’s just your mouth sharing warmth with his; tongues dancing together in harmony. Just like the first time, he was craving for more, and he was able to relay that message when his teeth grazed at your lower lip, causing a moan to escape your lungs. He too groaned and by then you realized he is now rock hard underneath your heat, his thin shorts revealing himself to your clothed mound.

“Fuck…” you did not expect yourself to be so turned on knowing you made your best friend erect just like that. All you did was wet kissing and well, maybe sitting right above his cock was what it all took.

You arched your back when you felt him squirm underneath you. He was definitely trying to move and find his rhythm, you thought, so you matched with his and rolled your hips against his erection.

“Damn….” he moaned so deeply with his hoarse voice. The friction between your clothed pussy and his bulge was enough to send you dripping to your core. Not even him, the most rational person you knew, can think straight at a moment like this: does he want to kiss your neck or pull you for another tongue wrestling? Does he want to tear all the annoying garments away from you? Does he want to set his cock free and let you sit on it, ride it if it’s too tempting for you? There’s one thing he knows though, he does not want to stop humping for now. The kind of pleasure the friction is giving him, plus the fact that he was doing such an erotic activity with not just any person but his best friend he had been fantasizing about lately was enough to send him nuts. He cannot even fathom what would happen if this escalates to something more, just having your warmth and your equally heightened libido had his focus on the now.

“You’re so hard, Jihoon.”

It felt so good and ego-boosting at the same time. Is he having a good time as well? He seems to like it as much as you do. His erection and hip movements to meet yours say it all: he wants you so bad and you feel proud someone actually desires you that much. When even was the last time you got laid? Was it a very long time ago? You aren’t sexually active yourself, and surprisingly, you’ve never been in a serious relationship as well. Maybe it wasn’t your priority, but having this heated session with your friend, you realized, you also craved to be touched, and be wanted. You wanted to be kissed deeply and ravenously, to be held possessively, and to be wanted as hungrily as how Jihoon was making you feel. Exactly as how Jihoon is obsessing for all that you are right now.

“Touch me. Please, Jihoon…”

The dry humping must have had a drug, you thought. How come having all these annoying barriers on your skin makes all these way hotter than you thought it could be? Especially when Jihoon’s feisty hands made their way from your waist to the insides of your shirt while his sloppy kisses made their way to your neck. His cold hands cupping your breasts send electricity to your spine, causing you to moan out his name as dirty and needy as possible. Who could blame you, he was making you feel so good. His hands that created masterpieces are now invading your privacy, so sweetly yet so heavy with emotions. It was as if he was milking out lyrics to an explicit love song out of you, to match the melodies coming out of your lungs that harmonize with his.

“You’re so fucking hot, you know that?” he managed to say between breaths, as he enjoys playing with your now slightly free breasts that had slipped out of your bra. He is still a boy, you found that out long time ago, when you’ve caught him subtly staring at your chest during that one listening party night you were his plus one at a bar hosted by a producer friend and you just had to wear something skimpy and rather revealing, something to match the R&B vibe of the album. He did catch himself as well staring that time, and proceeded to lend you his suit because “the bartender was having the time of his life flirting with you," - went his alibi.

“Yeah? That’s why you wanted me so bad huh?—oh shit!” you moaned out loud when his hold on you became heavier, pushing you down to his hardened cock as if there were anymore spaces left in between.

Mouths agape, together you humped against each other's heat, only moans were resonating inside his studio alongside a minute sound of the friction cause by the fabrics.

“Fuck I think gonna cum, fuck,” Jihoon cursed, while his eyes were shut and his teeth gritted to concentration. “Fuck,” he humps against you harder as curses kept on rolling from his tongue, while your hips rolled faster to meet his tempo, moans pitched higher and higher. You were also close, and suddenly you were reminded this isn’t about you. You were helping your friend. And you gotta do what you gotta do.

“Wai-wha—what are you doing?” his voice sounded annoyed but you know better than to answer him. Legs folding on the floor as you positioned yourself in between his, not wasting time in pulling twice the constraints that were his shorts and underwear. His cock sprung healthily, all pink and angry, veins bulging out as if wanted to be traced by your tongue.

He hissed out of breath, confused if he wanted to surrender on the couch or look at you in a position he had only dreamt of once.

No words need exchanging as you started sucking him off right there, mixing his precum with saliva, coating him down until your mouth can take. He had praises for you behind his teeth but all he could let out were needy guttural moans that translated how good you were making him feel anyway. You let his moans and the sight of him all sweaty and consumed fuck your system as the pool in your south continued to dampen your undies, the insides of your thighs getting ticklish, missing the attention it has gotten from him. Oh how badly you wanted him to fuck you right then and there, how badly you want him bucking his hips and drilling you so deep, how badly you wanted this thick cock of his inside you, stretching you oh so painfully yet so pleasurable.

“fuck… cant… anymore…” his shaky words were almost inaudible from all the dirty noises he was making, sounding even more gibberish while his body moved erratically to fuck your mouth, hands glued to your head to try to get his momentum, which did not take long as strings of cum exploded inside your mouth. You were quick to swallow, but most of his loads were still overflowing, racing down to your chin straight to your neck. It was one heck of a view, he thinks, as his chest heaves chasing his breath while appreciating a bit of the scene: his softening cock popping out of your mouth, before almost passing out.

“that was… really good.” it was probably an understatement to the euphoric climax he just had; his mind was still hazy from the release so he cannot find the correct words to tell you. But you were fine, the moans already sounded like praises to you. “That feels much better than I do with my own.”

“Of course it would,” you gave him a peck on the corner of his lips, and then dusting off the wrinkles on your clothes and adjusting your bra. “Takes two to tango.”

Confusion was then plastered on his face when you began fixing your hair and proceeding to face your back to grab your bag you left by the table. “What are you doing?”

“Leaving?”

“Who said you are?”

Somewhere in the room, his phone rings which he attentively checks. The name wasn’t supposed to annoy the hell out of him, but right now it almost spelled like a curse to him.

“You’re not leaving, please.” he grabs your hand as he takes the call from Bumzu. He knows you did not have your release, and he doesn’t want you carrying all that unreleased tension inside you when he himself had the best one tonight.

You heard the other line asking how he was feeling now and that he had left something inside the studio and if it’s okay to go and get it. Jihoon agrees, not without a defeated sigh and a click of his tongue only you can hear.

“You know the passcode right? I think I’ll take my leave tonight, I don’t think I can wring anything out of my mind at this rate.”

You looked at him while shaking your head as a smirk forms on your mouth, furrowing your eyebrows at him as if asking him what he was saying.

“Sure, actually we’ve been meaning to tell you that.” Bumzu seconds him, and asks about you right after. You heard him say Seokmin and Seungkwan had been asking if you weren’t busy and maybe hangout for a while as a way to thank you from earlier. Both guys had always been the sweetest among the bunch and although it was only out of courtesy, Jihoon can’t help but fume in jealousy, making himself lie to keep you in his (and ONLY HIS) sight for a while.

“She just left, I think she said she’s going for an early appointment tomorrow,” and ends the call soon when Bumzu bids his farewell and hopes of him getting well.

“I didn’t know you can lie to your brothers,”

“For an emergency yeah,” he hasn’t let go of your hand yet, and now he was already leading you out of his studio to the elevator.

“You could just say you’re sending me home, that would sound a lot better,”

And then what, you finding out about how the guys had been teasing him about you since day one? Of course, he won’t let that happen. Not until he finds the time to finally be honest with himself and to you.

“So… my place or yours?”

stay tuned for part two for the hoo-haa ;)

#seventeen smut #svt fic #svt scenarios #svt smut #kpop smut #jihoon x reader #woozi x reader #woozi smut #jihoon smut #woozi #svt woozi #lee jihoon

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bewaryofpity · 3 days ago

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LET DOWN - Q. HUGHES

[3.2k] quinn doesn’t love you anymore and it takes hurting you for him to realize.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, angst, smut, shower sex, unprotected p in v, no one cums (sorry), lovers to exes, slight toxic!quinn, falling out of love; unedited

a/n: very much a word vomit that i wrote when i was not feeling well, but i wanted to post it anyway because i think everyone deserves a good cry once in a while.

You loved winter. The cold, the snow, being wrapped in cozy blankets were all things that were somehow comforting for you. It was a feeling, a state of mind that allowed you to retreat from the chaos of the world and into yourself. And it was also the season when you and Quinn first started dating.

It wasn’t easy at first. You lived in hours away from Vancouver and couldn’t relocate yet because of your job, so you spent the first year of your relationship long distance with sporadic visits and late-night phone calls to fill the void despite Quinn’s NHL career being time consuming and too demanding — if you had to be honest, but you understood that and all you could do was support him through it all.

But you pulled through. You learned to love the little moments — the feeling of his arms around you, the sound of his voice before you fell asleep, the way he’d send you photos of the first snow in Vancouver, captioned with messages like wish you were here. And now you were finally here, in Vancouver, by his side and it was winter again.

The snow blanketed the city in a familiar white coat, and you felt like you were stepping into a dream you had waited so long to live. But there was an eerie feeling in the air, almost as if winter was not comforting anymore, now rather cloaked in something heavier, something dreadful.

The apartment was empty, just you with no lights on, and it was the kind of quiet that felt oppressive rather than peaceful. You sat on the couch, wrapped in a thick blanket, staring at the snow falling outside the window. It was only midmorning, the clouds of snow made everything look even darker than it seemed, but you couldn’t get yourself to turn the lights on as if you were scared to wake up from your dream, like it would shatter the fragile stillness you had wrapped yourself in.

“Baby?”

Quinn’s voice startled you. You didn’t notice the door opening nor had you registered the sound of his footsteps. He stood in the doorway, his brows furrowed in concern, the cold from outside clinging to him, and his cheeks were flushed from the winter air.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his voice soft but tinged with worry and he stepped closer, crouching down so he was at eye level with you. His eyes searched your face for clues, but you gave him none, nothing was giving him way for what you were feeling.

“Yes, why?”

“You seem off.”

He wasn’t wrong. Something was off, but you couldn’t put a name to it. It was as if an alarm bell had been ringing in the back of your mind for months now, faint but persistent, and you had chosen to ignore it. Maybe people just changed. Maybe you were outgrowing your love for winter, or maybe you were projecting the latest Quinn’s insecurities onto yourself. It felt simple enough to try and come up with something to soothe yourself, but nothing settled the discomfort in your chest.

“It’s just the cold. Do you wanna take a shower with me?”

He smiled at you, concern gone from his expression. You tried to play it off by changing the subject with something you knew would peak his interest, and of course he fell for it, it was always like that lately. He stretched his arm out for you to take and led the way to your shower. Everything was fine, really, you were just getting into your head for no reason.

You looked at yourself in the mirror not recognizing the figure in front of you, it seemed like you were looking at someone who was pretending to be you. Quinn turned on the shower head before coming to roam his hands over your body, distracting you from your thoughts. His hands were light on your body, helping you undress softly with no urgency. The small fog started to appear on the corners of the mirror as he placed kisses on your shoulders, hands now working on unclasping your bra.

When you both stepped in the shower, his hands found your body again and turned you around. The warm water falling down your back calmed your nerves down a little bit, your heart still thumping too fast in your chest.

“Quinn” You whispered, his mouth nipping at the skin of your neck before moving up your jaw and finally placing a soft kiss on your lips, rolling your head back as you barrened the feeling of his wet lips on your skin.

“I’m here.”

You let yourself sink into his embrace and his hands flattened against your spine. He drew you closer, and guided you gently backward until you pressed against the wall, squirming when your back hit the cold tiles. He took the gasp leaving your lips as his turn to push his tongue into your mouth, the kiss growing fervid and you didn’t fight for dominance.

The wall began to warm up with your own temperature, and you felt one of Quinn’s hands let go of your hip. Your fingers clung onto the wet strands of hair at the back of his head and moved further up to grab the ones framing his face. You pulled at it to bring his mouth farther away from yours and a groan left Quinn’s lips, vibrating against your own.

His vacant hand came back to you, smoothing over your skin, palming at your hips, your ass, your thighs, anything that he could get a hold of. He brought his lips back to yours, and you let out a small moan against his lips. He used to swear that that sound alone was sacred, something carved from the world’s best; he would be stupid to not consider himself lucky to have you. But before it all escalated too quickly, he grounded himself and he pulled away from the kiss.

“Why did you stop?” You whisper innocently, yet annoyed by his sudden change of mood.

“We need to talk about you.” He said against your lips, eyebrows raising when he felt the way your hand gripped onto his hair to pull him back to it, but he didn't give in, he just stared at you, eyes dark and empty, waiting for a response. Your hand slides from the top of his head to the back yet again.

“Yeah okay, later. Now kiss me.”

You sighed, Quinn’s hands on your body began to work the path it was making during your kiss, squeezing and exploring your flesh. His hand moved downwards and grabbed onto your thigh, holding it to his hip. You let him do it, already feeling the weight on your chest getting replaced by a slight warmth in your stomach.

He was hard against you, he had been for a while now, your body his muse, and he moved his hips against yours. You deepened the kiss when he lifted one of his hands and began to move his body to somewhat create a distance between you. You could feel the tip of his cock between your folds in a space of a second, and you sighed into the kiss.

“Fuck.” He grunted, forcing the two of you to separate from the kiss.

You moved your hands to his shoulders and closed your eyes while leaning your head on the wall. He slid right in with ease, stretching you like he always did.

He didn’t give you much time to adjust, his hips bruising yours as he slid back and forth inside of you, the notion pressing you against the wall impossibly more, and you grit your teeth at the discomfort from the wall behind you. His hands gripped your thighs forcefully, watching as he slid in and out of you, his length coated in your slick. The sight of your naked body before him burned his skin, the feeling of your wet torsos sliding on one another, your tits squished into his chest, your stomach against his abs, his hands digging into your soft thighs. His carnal desire for you kept him going.

“Quinn.” You moaned his name between your clenched teeth. He groaned into your skin, feeling your soaked warm walls squeezing him as he didn’t move his focus from his cock.

“So good, baby. Keep going.” He whispered into the skin of your chest.

The bathroom was so silent and so echoey that you could hear everything. You could also hear your breathing against one another’s mouths. You heard the wet noises of his cock going in and out of you. Everything. And you wanted to disappear.

Your hands gripped at his shoulders, your breasts moving with each of Quinn’s thrusts when you leaned back on the wall, and your head fell back onto the tiles each time he brought his mouth to your skin, leaving marks down his path.

Everything felt so odd and uncomfortable. You hoped he could feel it too, because the way your nails scratched at his back, digging deep into the skin was not you. You didn’t know what was happening, it could have been from not talking to one another, it was too physical for your liking and your mind started to wander again. His body heavy against yours, almost suffocating, and this was not him, and you wanted it all to stop.

“Quinn, please, stop.” You whimpered breathlessly, staring at the ceiling, head thrown back onto the wall.

“What? Did I do something wrong?”

He let go of one of your legs but didn’t pull out yet. He kept squeezing at your waist, confusion painted his face and he was almost white in fear of having hurt you. He tried to get your attention back on him, but your eyes were squeezed shut and you wished you could disappear, that everything went back to how it was, back to when you loved having his touch on your skin.

His touch was delicate now, treating you like a porcelain doll. You knew he was beating himself down for hurting you even though he wasn’t sure what caused your sudden change. The woman in front of him was not you, she was your shell, he didn’t recognize you anymore. He tried to push away the tought that it was his fault, but the idea persisted and he couldn’t wait to get away from you.

Your other leg made contact with the ground gently, your hands still clawing at his back, squeezing him closer to you. His hands traveled up to your back with hesitation, unsure whether or not you wanted his comfort in this situation.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I just need to know that you’re okay.”

“I don't wanna talk about it. Not now.”

Quinn didn’t press you for more. He simply pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you and for a while, it helped. His warmth, his steady presence, was enough to keep the darkness at bay. And with his arms wrapped around you, all was right with the world again, even if just for a little bit. But the feeling lingered.

Days turned into weeks, and the weight in your chest didn’t lift. You found yourself retreating into the quiet corners of your mind more often, your thoughts tangled in questions you couldn’t answer. But the cracks were there, and they were widening.

Everything came down to Quinn one night in January after a painfully embarrassing game, and he drove home with a tension in his shoulders that matched the one in your chest. There were no messages from you to reassure him of his game, nothing — you were radio silent. His heart stung a little bit, but the ache went as fast as it came, and he realized that he didn’t really care at that moment that he was not on your mind. You weren’t in his either.

After that day when you cried in his arms, he felt self-conscious of his love for you because being in your presence started to feel like a chore, sleeping with you and kissing you weren’t doing anything for him anymore. Yet, he didn’t want to believe that this was it, so he pushed onto you until you couldn’t take it anymore.

You were a clever woman, your mind greater than anyone’s he had met before, yet he didn’t notice. He thought he hid it well, that he stopped loving you somewhere in the middle of January, but the memory of you, vulnerable and sensitive in his arms, crying and asking him to not leave you flashed in front of his eyes. You already knew then the turmoil that clouded his thoughts. And when he reassured you that he was not leaving, he felt like an asshole. He was an asshole, because now you despised him and you couldn’t bear him anymore.

His team had yet again acquired another loss, and it was clear he was carrying the weight of it as the captain. It was what Quinn always did, blame himself even when the problem wasn’t him. You tried to comfort him, to be the steady presence he had been for you, but your own unrest made it hard to find the right words.

As soon as he crossed the threshold into the apartment, you knew you were going to walk on eggshells for the night and you wished you had more courage in you to finally stop your pain, and mutter the words that had been stuck on the tip of your tongue for weeks now.

Quinn came to stand by the kitchen counter while you cleaned up. His looming presence raised your heartbeat, you were careful to plan your next words.

“I’m sorry about tonight. You guys will bounce back soon.”

And maybe those weren’t the right words, you exhausted every vague reassuring expression, he knew his team wasn’t playing well and you knew so too. The console, the soothe, the encouragement were all performative, your voice lacked sincerity and you both knew that.

“Yeah,” he scoffed. “You don’t get it. It’s the whole fucking season, we’re a playoffs team and yet we get swept by the worst teams in the league.”

He snapped, jaw tightening and voice sharper than you expected. The sting of his words cut deep, and for a moment, you couldn’t find the words to respond. “I know you’re upset and I’m sorry, but I’m just trying to help.”

“You’re not helping at all.”

“What do you want me to do?” Your voice trembled and your chest tightened, a mix of frustration and hurt bubbling to the surface. “I might not understand what it means to lose, but I’ve been trying my best here to get some of that weight off your shoulder. I’ve always been there for you, have I not?”

“I don’t need your words to feel better, I just—”

“You what, then? You want to let your anger out on me? You think that will make you feel better? If that’s what you want, have at it.”

“I couldn’t care less about your body.”

“Then what do you want from me?”

Silence hung heavy between you, the weight of your words settling in the space where love used to be. The pretense of caring for each other, loving one another, was all breaking down bit by bit, and one of you had to deliver the final blow.

“Quinn, just tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong, you’re the one who’s pushing me away.”

“Yeah, because you’re doing the exact same thing to me.”

You said it so casually, passive to his behavior, accepting of the blame being put on you. At this moment, he wanted for you to hit him. Physically. Because he knew his words were hurting you, and he was doing it on purpose, and he needed you to put some sense back into him. He wanted you out, but he didn’t want the responsibility of being the one to break up, so he tried to pick at your insecurities, at your doubts, praying that you’d break your façade.

“I’m tired, Quinn, I’m going to bed. Figure it out on your own, I’m not here to entertain you anymore.”

And so you walked to your shared bedroom, arms crossed around your body as if to protect yourself from harm, to hold yourself together, save your tears to spill out in his presence.

“I don’t know if this is working anymore.” He said, looking up in your direction with eyes that seemed more tired than anything else. You stopped in your tracks before you turned around to face him again.

“Did you notice just now?”

“No.” he whispered, voice so small you had to rely on the shake of his head for his answer.

“What were you waiting for?”

“For you to leave.”

“You don’t mean that.” You said, shaking your head. The room seemed to tilt, the weight of his confession threatening to crush you.

“I do.” He said, his voice breaking. “I didn’t want to admit it, not to you and not to myself, but it’s the truth. At first I thought, maybe if I waited a little bit this feeling would be gone, but then nothing changed and I found myself keeping you around for my own pleasure, really. But I did just notice that you knew all this all along. So why are you still here?”

“Because I thought it was all in my head. I thought I was the one who didn’t love you anymore.” Your voice trembled and the tears you desperately tried to hold back finally spilled over. Your legs were too weak to hold you up so you shifted your weight on to the armrest of the couch next to you. And you finally said it. But it was all you. You didn’t love him anymore and it was his fault.

“I’m sorry.” His own tears threatened to spill.

“But you’re not, so please stop lying to me at least this once. It’s okay if you’re not sorry, and it’s okay that you don’t love me anymore. And it’s okay that you felt the need to use me until I couldn’t take it anymore. I just wish you spared me of the pain you’re leaving me with. That, I cannot forgive you for.”

You didn’t really care if Quinn started crying now, he deserved that, he deserved much harsher words than the ones which came out of your mouth. You could see it in his face, the flicker of guilt, the defensiveness, maybe even anger, like he resented you for making him feel anything at all. It was infuriating, how he stood there with his jaw clenched and his arms crossed at his chest trying to hold himself together. You wanted to believe that there was remorse buried somewhere beneath his cold exterior, but all you saw was a man who didn’t want to face the consequences of his actions. And that made the pain even worse.

And you wanted to scream, to cry, to crumble under the enormity of it all, but instead, you stood there, frozen in the unbearable stillness of betrayal. It wasn’t just the pain of losing him, it was the realization that he’d never truly cared the way you had, and now, all that love — if you could call it so — felt like a wound you’d inflicted on yourself.

But it didn’t matter anymore because now the weight on your chest was gone and winter was your least favorite season.

#quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes fic #nhl smut #quinn hughes one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot #bewaryofpity writes

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lyvhie · 1 day ago

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okay hi haechan anon again!! im back with another request! so I'm missing my taeyong a lot (hashtag military wife..) and I was listening to 2 baddies as any baddie would and. the line "now you wanna ride these wheels" had my legs FOLDED 🥴 those wheels aren't the only thing I wanna ride.

and that brings me to my request. riding tyongie pretty pretty please???

── .✦ everybody makes mistakes

ex-bf!lee taeyong x fem!reader

𓂃 ࣪˖ summary: You were going through a busy time in your life, and going to a party was supposed to help you relax a little and... Well, your ex certainly turned out to be a good distraction. 𓂃 ࣪˖ cw: smut, riding, car sex, unprotected sex, creampie because why not 😞, pet names. 𓂃 ࣪˖ a/n: HIIII, ANOOOON!!! GLAD YOU'RE STILL HERE 😚😚 i get you... i feel like we are 12949 years without tyong, we need him back ASAP, i can't have a happy life if taeyong isn't here PLEASE. ANYWAYS, I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS ONE!

This was definitely not part of the plan. It was supposed to be a fun night at your friend's party—a chance to unwind and forget about the chaos that had taken over your life lately. Honestly, you hadn’t even planned on coming, but your friends had insisted, saying some fresh air would do you good. You finally caved, figuring what was the harm?

Wrong decision.

If you had known your ex-boyfriend would be there, you’d have stayed home.

You thought you were over him, it had been months since the breakup, after all. There was no reason to panic, you told yourself. Besides, he hadn’t even seemed to notice you were there. You could enjoy the night without a care. Or so you thought.

Your eyes kept drifting to him, as if drawn by some invisible force. Watching how he moved through the crowd, laughing, leaning in to whisper things in people’s ears, flashing that smile that used to make your heart race. The same smile he was now directing at others.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to tear your gaze away from him. Focus on your drink. Your friends. Literally anything else, you told yourself, desperate to ignore the annoying tightness in your chest every time you caught sight of him leaning in close to someone else. But it was no use.

You didn’t even need to look. You could feel it. His eyes were on you, burning with that same intensity you’d once found irresistible. Against your better judgment, you glanced over and instantly regretted it.

There he was, lips curling into a smirk, that infuriating, knowing expression that only made your stomach twist further. And then, as if the universe itself was playing a cruel joke, he started walking toward you.

Your heart skipped, and you quickly looked away, pretending to be engrossed in whatever your friends were laughing about. You even forced out a chuckle, hoping it sounded convincing.

Taeyong, of course, wasn’t fooled. He thought it was cute, how bad you were at subtlety, how transparent you always were when you tried to act cool, just as he remembered. If anything, it made him want to reach you faster.

From the moment he approached you and murmured a soft “hey,” everything became a haze, your senses drowning in the intensity of his presence. You remembered the way he leaned in, his lips so close to your ear that his warm breath sent shivers down your spine. His voice was low and familiar, dripping with charm as he told you how much he missed you, how surprised he was to see you there when he knew this wasn’t your usual scene.

His hand had found its way to your waist, his touch firm but not forceful, as if asking for permission rather than demanding it. You hadn’t stopped him. The heat of his body pressed against yours was both comforting and electric, stirring something in you that you thought had long been buried.

Every subtle gesture—a thumb tracing lazy circles on your hip, the way his fingers lingered just a moment too long as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, the way his gaze never wavered from yours—pulled you deeper into the gravity of his orbit. You knew you should step back, but instead, you let yourself lean into the closeness, into him, even though you both knew exactly where this would lead.

And all of it led to a kiss, slow, as if to test the waters, then deepening with the kind of urgency that only old lovers can share. That kiss led to lovely whispers and stolen touches, and before you knew it, you were in the parking lot, your heart pounding as he opened the door to the backseat of his car.

The air between you was thick with tension, your breaths mingling as he pulled you close, his hands finding your waist like they never forgot the shape of you. It was reckless and impulsive, the kind of decision that you knew you’d question later—but right now, with his lips on yours and the heat of his body pressed against you, it felt like the only decision to make.

His hands gripped the soft flesh of your thighs, his fingers pressing firmly into your skin as he held you down against him. His mouth was relentless, his tongue exploring yours with a fervor that made your breath hitch. Your hips began to move instinctively, a slow grind against him that drew a deep groan from his lips. The confined space of the car only heightened the heat between you, every movement feeling more intense, more urgent in the close quarters.

You felt his hands slip to the hem of your shirt, ready to pull it over your head, but you stopped him just in time, pulling away from the kiss, both of you panting softly.

"This is a bad idea," you whispered, though your body leaned into his, contradicting your words.

"Maybe," he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses that made your resolve waver. You tilted your head slightly, giving him more access.

"We really shouldn't be doing this," you tried to reason, though your hands remained on him, your touch lingering.

“You can blame the alcohol if it helps," he suggested, his lips tracing a path up to your jaw before capturing your mouth again. You didn't resist, kissing him back.

"I didn't drink that much," you argued softly.

"Then blame me," his hand drifting lower, inching toward the space between your legs, sending a wave of anticipation through you. "You're always good at that."

"Shut up," you retorted, nipping at his lower lip, earning a hiss and a soft chuckle from him. “Tell me to stop," he said, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his lips hovering just above yours. "And I will, pretty.”

Yes, you just needed to say the word and get out of his car. Of course, that would be the right thing to do, but... you were already this far.

You would blame him.

"Fuck, I'm gonna regret this," you muttered before crashing your lips against his again, kissing him more fervently than before, grinding against him harder, his bulge applying just the right amount of pressure against your core.

Your hands fumbled with the button of his pants, a mix of nerves and anticipation guiding your movements. He was quick to undo yours in return, his desperation evident as he helped you, pulling his pants down just enough while you slipped out of yours along with your panties, leaving no barriers between you.

His hands gripped your hips, guiding you over him, one of your hands rested on his shoulder for balance while the other slid down, wrapping around his hard cock. It throbbed under your touch, and he let out a soft moan at the slightest contact. You stroked him slowly, savoring the way he responded, before lowering yourself just enough to let the tip brush along your slick slit.

He groaned, his fingers tightening on your hips, urging you to stop teasing. "Don't play with me," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. You smiled faintly, enjoying the rare moment of control you had over him, but your own need was overwhelming.

With a soft exhale, you slowly sank down onto him, both of you gasping as he stretched you, filling you completely. Fuck, how he missed this—the feeling of your warm heat enveloping him, just as tight as he remembered. He buried his face in your neck, inhaling your intoxicating scent, his breath hot against your skin.

“You feel so good," he murmured, his voice muffled against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. You missed this feeling too, the delicious stretch of him inside you, your walls fluttering around him, as if your body was echoing the same sentiment. He bit your neck to muffle a moan, the sound vibrating through you.

And for a few seconds, you both stayed like that, motionless, just reveling in the feeling of him taking up all the space in your pussy. Then, slowly, you began to move, rolling your hips over him before lifting yourself just enough and sinking back down, drawing moans from both of you. His hands slid down to cup your ass, fingers digging in as he followed your movements, his head falling back against the seat with a deep groan.

Your movements were slow at first, teasing, but you quickly found your rhythm, pressing down on him, the sensation sending waves of heat through your body. The heat between you was unbearable, the cramped space of the car amplifying every sound—the wet glide of your bodies, the breathless moans, the creak of the leather seat beneath you.

His hands moved back to your waist and his grip on you tightened, fingers pressing into your flesh as he urged you to move faster. You picked up speed, setting a pace that felt good for you, making him gasp with each roll of your hips.

"That's it, baby," he groaned, lifting his head to watch where your bodies met, eyes dark with hunger. "Just like that... take me deeper."

You bit your lip, trying to stifle a whimper as you obeyed, bouncing harder, grinding down to feel every inch of him. The pleasure was dizzying, overwhelming, stealing what little self-control you had left. His hands left your hips, moving up your body, dragging your shirt up to expose more of your skin.

“Fuck, look at you," he murmured, leaning in to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud. The sensation sent a shockwave through your body, making you clench around him.

A deep, guttural moan tore from his throat as he thrust up into you slightly, meeting your movements. "Shit—keep that up, and I won't last," he warned, voice strained. But you didn't stop. You couldn't. You were too close, too lost in the way he filled you perfectly, the way his body fit against yours like he was made for you.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer to kiss you, the heat between you both intensifying. Just as he had said, he wouldn’t last much longer. It wasn't just because it felt incredible, but because it was you.

“Don’t stop,” he murmured, almost a plea, his thighs tensing beneath you. His chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, every little sound he made pushing you closer to the edge too, but you weren’t there yet.

You didn’t need to say anything; your body said enough. The way you moved, the way you squeezed him with every roll of your hips—it was too much. His grip on you tightened as he groaned deep, his body shuddering beneath you as he came, his release spilling inside you as you kept moving, letting him ride it out.

But he didn’t stop there—you still needed to finish too, and now it was his turn to take care of you. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you flush against him as he buried his face in your neck. Even with his body still trembling from his own release, he started moving again, thrusting up into you with deep, desperate strokes.

A shaky whine escaped his lips as the overstimulation hit him, but he didn’t let up, his grip on you firm, determined. “Gotta make you feel good too,” he murmured against your skin, his voice strained, breathless.

Each thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing through you, your walls fluttering around him, dragging him deeper despite the sensitivity. His name spilled from your lips, hands fisting in his hair as he held you close, chasing your release like it was the only thing that mattered.

His breath was hot against your neck, his movements growing sloppier, more desperate, but he didn’t stop—not until he had you right where he wanted. His fingers slid down between your bodies, finding your most sensitive spot, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that made your thighs tremble around him.

"Come on, baby," he coaxed, voice hoarse, lips brushing your ear. Your grip on him tightened as pleasure coiled low in your stomach, the pressure building with every stroke, every thrust. His name tumbled from your lips, breathless and needy, and he groaned at how good you sounded.

And then, with one more deep, well-angled thrust, pleasure crashed over you. Your body tensed before melting into his, a broken moan leaving your lips as your release washed through you. He groaned at the feeling of you tightening around him, his arms holding you steady as you rode out your high.

Even as your body sagged against his, he pressed a lingering kiss to your shoulder, his breaths ragged, shaky. “That’s my girl,” he whispered, tracing slow circles on your back as he helped you come down.

It wasn’t the smartest decision, you knew that. But, in that moment, you felt... satisfied.

You pulled away slightly to meet his eyes. Your friends had been right, maybe you did need to let go of the weight on your shoulders and relax a little.

"Wanna come home?"

↝ taglist: @yizhrt, @sinisxtea, @peterm4rker.

#taeyong smut #taeyong x reader #nct x reader #nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct 127 x reader

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midnight-bay-if · 1 day ago

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hiii, hope the flu’s gone away even if somewhat, bug my ask is a spin on this ask;

https://www.tumblr.com/midnight-bay-if/768586461085908992/hmhmhm-if-youre-up-for-it-mc-tackling-their-ro

but uh-oh! they CAN’T get up because they’ve been wounded/too damaged TO get up, how would the RO’s react then?

(sorry if i already asked this in some form, i think last time i did was like 4am and much less coherent)

(I wrote these as if the ROs are already in a relationship, but also, I had to make sure the MC showed a sign of life at the end because my emotions have been yo-yo-ing recently, and I don't think I can bring myself to go full pain, haha. I can direct you to this ask for that :) Sorry this took so long!)

S: Initially, It isn't apparent what - or who - hit them. One moment, they were deflecting blows from a particularly pertinent foe; the next, they were on their side, the gravel of the ground cutting into their skin. The burn is enough to distract them initially, but the dead weight on top of them eventually demands an audience. They regret their hesitation almost immediately. "MC!"

They carefully manoeuvre themselves out from beneath you and lay you flat on your back. You are bleeding heavily, and your eyes aren't open. They have already jostled you too much to escape, so they will not try to move you further. "Time to wake up now," they say aloud, ignoring the crack in their voice as they appraise your injuries. "Rain! Call an ambulance!" They trust that their voice carries because they cannot bear to look away from you for even a moment.

They tear at the pieces of their clothing that are thin enough to tear and create tourniquets for the deep cuts on your limbs. It's not enough, but it is all they can do to stem the bleeding. "I'm so sorry, darling," they whisper, reaching down to take your hand, holding it against their chest, ignoring how limp it feels. "I'm sorry I was not quick enough; it should be me... it should be me..."

It is almost too good to be true when they feel the lightest squeeze of your hand against theirs.

Rain: They know it is you almost instinctively. You have always been so brave; of course, you wouldn't think twice about knocking them out of danger. It's who you are. It's one of the reasons they fell in love with you in the first place. But... this?

They see you limp, motionless, and it feels like their heart has been ripped out through their throat. Or maybe that's the feeling of a scream being shredding their throat. "No, no, no, no," they whimper, over and over, as they frantically search for signs of life. It is lucky Selby is beside them because Rain is no longer in control of themselves. The urge to maim, to kill, to seek vengeance is something they learned to push down some time ago, but it all comes back in a rush.

The words "they are still breathing" are all that stops them. Selby rises to get help, leaving Rain alone by your side. Knowing you are still breathing, Rain presses their forehead against yours so they can feel your breath hitting their cheek. "I am here, and I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

It may have been their imagination, but they are sure they see your lips twitch a smile.

Taj: "Watch it, you lump," Taj gibes, thinking you had mistakenly fallen into them. It's only when you both fall down, and you do not get back up that they realise the severity. You should be arguing with them, telling them it's their fault for not paying attention, or shouting that you are okay. Anything. "MC, get your ass up."

You don't even flinch.

Taj sees red. The person responsible has their throat ripped out before they can take their next breath. "Taj, leave it! Focus on MC!" Selby gives the order, but they do not know if they can. How can they bear to see? What if you are not breathing? What if you have just died protecting them because they were too damn slow?!

It feels as if their heart is being crushed in their chest, but they force themselves to their knees beside you. "MC, wake the fuck up! I'm not kidding!" They shout, slapping your face enough to sting without bruising. When that doesn't work, Taj grabs your hand and holds two fingers against your pulse point. They feel it.

"Keep fighting, koel; I owe you a kick in the ass for doing something so stupid."

N: It all happened so quickly. They had been taunting their latest prey, enjoying watching them squirm beneath their fingers, when suddenly, a scream - your scream - rings inside their head, and they are hurtling across the floor. The pain is nothing compared to the silence that follows.

They twist their head around and see you there, lying still; now it is they who scream. "I forbid it," they whisper, crawling to you with all the will they have left, ready to give it to you - in their blood if they must. When their hand reaches your shoulder, they cup your cheek with the other, your blood soaking their hand. They are about to choke on their grief when they see your chest rising. "You're alive," they whisper, aghast. "Now you stay alive, you hear? I would be awfully put out if you died, my dear. I came a long way to find you; you wouldn't let that be for nothing, right?"

They will wait to hear your answer for however long it takes.

Umbra: They let down their guard. How dare they?! HOW DARE THEY?! Umbra's entire world turns black. For a moment, they return to their natural state: the creature who knows no will of their own, an echo, a weapon... and then they open their eyes. They stand in a puddle of blood of their own making, surrounded by those who dared.

Then, they rush to you with blood-soaked hands, but dare not touch you. Tears in their eyes, they rub their hands against their clothes, but the blood merely smudges, the metallic tang making them gag. "I-- I can't, I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean--"

Umbra doesn't know what they meant to say. They only wish to make it stop. To make it all stop. This wasn't supposed to happen. You were not supposed to do this. This is for them. Not you. Not this. "I am scared."

Death is easy; loss is unconscionable.

Then, they see it; your chest rises with a breath. "Yes! Breathe!" They laugh hysterically, finally grabbing your hands in theirs. "I- I do not know how to make it go away, so I will get help. You are going to be okay; I promise."

(P.S. It is very difficult to write when a cat is adamant that your seat is theirs.)

#ask answer #taj #umbra knight #nazu raumon #naera raumon #simon selby #rain #simone selby #interactive fiction

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ladykailitha · 1 day ago

Text

Spellbound Part 5

Hey guys!! Here we have the next part of this lovely fic. I've been steadily working on it, just not on WIP Wednesdays because... well... it's getting really spoiler-y and I don't want to ruin your fun.

In this we Chrissy acting suspicious and Steve deals with a couple of Fey. Yep. Fey.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Steve decided that he was going to do his own errands this morning, as he had been using the kids after the attack on Bav to make sure she was going to be okay. But she nudged him out the door today with a basket full of his medicines.

His nosy curious nature brought him to the Munson’s door first, Wayne’s arthritis medicine in hand.

He knocked on the door and wasn’t surprised when Chrissy came out of it when it opened. He nodded. “Miss Cunningham.”

“Oh!” she cried, blushing bright red. “Hello, Steve! Wayne isn’t in right now, but I can take that for him.”

Steve stepped back, clutching the basket to his chest. “I’ve got other errands to run, I’ll just come back.”

She reached out for the basket and he took another step back. “It’s fine, Steve. I’ll make sure he gets them.”

Steve shook his head. He didn’t trust her. He tried scrying on her after Robin’s pronouncement that she was visiting Eddie and couldn’t. He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t want to find out.

“I’ll come back,” he said, firmly. “Have a good a day!” He turned on his heel and hurried down the path, careful not to look back. His heart was going a mile a minute and his lungs tightened around his quickening breaths.

Behind him he heard Eddie’s voice call out, “Who was that?”

“No one,” was the unsettling response and then the sound of the door closing, echoed in his ears.

Steve hurried down the path. He didn’t know what her reasoning for lying was, but it sent a chill down his spine. There was something rotting in this town, but to be fair, that was why his mother sent him here in the first place. It was too closed off for a town of it’s side to be normal.

He quickly finished his errands, with the head of the watch’s house last. Jim Hopper was a good man who had left Hawkins to start a new life, but had come back after the death of his daughter and his wife subsequent descent into madness.

Wayne wasn’t the only one to use his arthritis medicine, Jim used it often too. Especially after a long day out in the rain.

Steve enjoyed visiting Jim for another reason.

“Steve!” a voice cried out and suddenly he had a armful.

Steve wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. “Good afternoon, Elinor, is your dad home?”

The little girl looked up at him with a big grin. “Yes, he’s home. But so is Father and Mother...”

Ah. That would explain how gleeful she was.

Elinor Hopper was a changeling. She had been swapped with another child like they always were, but what they didn’t count on was the baby being dropped off at a way station and picked up by Jim Hopper. He, still grieving the loss of his own daughter, Sara, nursed the changeling back to health and properly took care of her.

And when the fae came to take back the stump they had used to swap create her, they found a happy, healthy child instead. A child they could not take back to the faerie lands without Hopper’s permission. One he refused to give.

Steve had managed to intervene in time before the sidhe got upset enough to raze the whole town. He got them all to agree to terms that Jim would raise Elinor as his own and she would return to the faerie lands when she was grown and could make her own decisions and they would pay for her upbringing.

After all, it was their fault she was created in the first place. It did make for some awkward moments over the years. Most when the fae got tired of paying for her upkeep and would show up to demand her back.

Honestly though, Steve thought it was the funniest thing because try as they might they could never get his name to bend him to their will. Because he would go by Jim or Hopper, never James. Steve didn’t think there was a single soul anywhere who knew it was for sure, James.

“I’ll go smooth things out again,” he promised kissing her forehead.

Steve walked into the house and there stood the most graceful, elegant beings you had ever seen. Both were tall and thin, but in an uncanny valley kind of way. Their hair was long and blond, coming to the middle of his back and her waist. Their eyes were a bright, unnatural blue and their clothing screamed wealth in ways no human could match.

“Lord Eanethreal, Lady Melisande,” he said bowing, “it is good to see you again.”

Both pairs of blue eyes and a third more natural pair of blue eyes turned to him. Steve looked unassuming most days, but not in that moment. Not then.

He stood up straight and his clothes that were a warm, olive green most of the time, had shifted from an earthy tone, to a glittering emerald green and on his head was a matching pointed hat that denoted his profession and rank. The change made the green in his own eyes stand out, making them more hazel than brown.

“Steven,” Lady Melisande said with a nod, though Lord Eanethreal just ignored him with a sniff. “We have come to take the child you call Elinor. She is missing vital teachings as she wastes away up here in the mortal realm.”

“That was not the bargain, my lady,” Steve said with a gentle smile, “as you well know. Would you really go back on our deal?”

That was when Lord Eanethreal took notice of him, spitting in anger. “It was a trick! A low down dirty trick and I refused to let it stand!”

Jim chuckled. “Don’t like it when it’s you on the receiving end, huh?” He shook his head in amusement.

“To break your word,” Steve warned, “once it freely given will bring a curse upon you for one hundred years. Is that really what you would like happen here today? Because you could take her, but there is no prison strong enough or deep enough to stop her from clawing her way back to Jim. So not only will you be cursed as the deal states, Elinor will have wrecked havoc on the faerie lands that will be felt for centuries and all because you doubt the love of this human man for that little girl.”

He pointed at Jim who glared at them, daring them to refute Steve’s statement.

Steve held Eanethreal’s gaze for a long moment before the fae lord broke contact first. He snarled something feral and dark, but suddenly pantry was full and the coffer overflowing. He turned on his heel and stormed out of the house, the smell of lightning crackling behind him in his wake.

Melisande shook her head. “My apologies, yet again. It is a sore spot for my husband to be bound to the mortal realm thusly.”

Steve bowed his head respectfully. “I understand, but the usual laws don’t apply here. He not the person you sought to punish by swapping out their baby for the changeling, and Elinor did not die as most do. So it created an unique situation that must have unusual rules.”

“There is wisdom in that,” she murmured. “I will try harder to convince him of such wisdom.” She nodded to Steve and swept out the door without so much as a backward glance to Jim.

Then Steve was back to his normal every day self. His head began to pound and he swayed on his feet.

Then everything thing went black.

When Steve woke up, he wasn’t surprised to see that he was laid out on Jim’s bed. No, what was surprising was that Eddie was there at the bedside looking concerned.

Steve blinked up at him in confusion. “Did I hit my head on the way down?”

Jim chuckled from behind Eddie. “No, kid. I caught you in time. Eddie was passing by when he saw our visitors and was curious as to the nature of our little get together.”

“That’s a whole story for someone other than me to tell,” Steve huffed, staying lying down. He knew his limits and he had blown past them. “Short version. I make the fae pay child support.”

Jim chuckled. “Steve just used too much of his power forcing the bastards to back down.”

“Why the hell would you need to use your powers to tell them to fuck off?” Eddie asked, frowning.

The room stopped spinning so he carefully sat up as Jim passed a plate of food over Eddie’s head. Steve took it with a grateful smile.

“Because they would only negotiate with those they deem equals,” Elinor said grimly. “If his power wasn’t half the level it should be, he wouldn't need to be using glamour to make himself look bigger to them.”

“Well, Miss Thing,” Steve teased, “unless you have a solution about unlocking my full potential that isn’t finding my soulmate, shush!”

Elinor giggled. “Nope, pretty sure that’s the only way.”

Eddie looked over his shoulder at her and then back at Steve. “I thought you didn’t hold to the notion that you were that ultra rare super witch or whatever you called it was.”

Steve sighed around a piece of bread and cheese, putting down the piece he had in his hand. “That’s what everyone thought were I grew up. That I just wasn’t as powerful as my mother because I’m a male witch, but...”

“Well that’s sexist,” Eddie huffed. “And I’m guessing that every soul powered super witch were lesbians?”

Steve burst out laughing. “Well no. A lot of male/female pairings in the centennial sorcerers as my Auntie Muriel liked to call them, a handful of lesbians, too. But the reason they didn’t–um... think it was me because there’s never been a male/male pairing in any record. Granted there hasn’t been that many because it’s once every hundred years...”

Eddie smiled. “Still out say the last ten or so, it’s never happened?”

Steve nodded. Not many people in the village knew that he was gay. In fact with the current mayor, it was a safe bet that no one outside his very intimate circle knew that fact.

“Still sexist, Steve,” he said softly. “You just said that about of a third of the most power witches were men if there were heterosexual powerful prestidigitators in the past. So your family just dismissed as being male without cause.”

Steve opened his mouth in shock. “Oh shit. I never thought of it that way. You’re right, that was pretty awful of them.”

Eddie smiled at him and then got to his feet. “Well, now that I know you didn’t kill yourself protecting the little miss, I’ll be on my way.”

“Since you’re here,” Steve said, pointing to the basket on the table, “you might as well take your uncle’s medicine with you. He was going to be my last stop.”

Eddie picked up the basket and one of the packets, frowning at them. He picked up the rest of the packets and tucked them into the safety of his inner pocket of vest.

“I’ll make sure he gets them,” he murmured. “Seriously though, you need to stop using up all your power to protect others, or you might just burn out before you meet your soulmate.”

Steve huffed a laugh. “I’ll probably never meet them here, this town isn’t very friendly for people like me.” He tilted the head to side. “The witch thing doesn’t help either.”

Eddie burst out laughing. “You really are something else, Harrington. Take care of yourself. you hear?”

“Will do,” Steve murmured softly. “Say hello to Wayne for me.”

Eddie nodded and then slipped out of the house. Both Jim and Elinor turned to Steve.

“He didn’t touch you or Dad,” Elinor said succinctly, tilting her head to the side. “But he rustled my hair, why?”

Jim huffed a breath through his nose. “Probably for the same reason Steve here doesn’t touch men. He knows his soulmate is a man and it would be pitchforks and torches if happened to be the wrong man.”

She nodded sagely. “I’m sorry you were forced to use your powers so soon after the incident with the Carver boy. I hope you find your soulmate quickly. I fear there is a storm coming that will alter this town forever.”

Then she smiled and skipped out of the house as if nothing had happened.

Jim and Steve looked at each other in concern.

“Well,” Jim said darkly, “that was fucking ominous.”

Steve could only agree.

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @watermelonmite @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @cryptid-system @kultiras @kimsnooks

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @wheneverfeasible @micheledawn1975 @gloomysoup @dotdot-wierdlife @tartarusknight

10- @ollyxar @yesdangerpls @two-vampires-kissing @themoonagainstmers @estrellami-1

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #witch steve harrington #witch au

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didalexiabreakupwitholgaisback · 23 hours ago

Note

Can you please give us your full match breakdown if you have the time? I love reading your thoughts and it helps me learn so much about the game.

hi anon - thanks! okay, here are my general thoughts below the cut:

tl;dr it's not a castrophic loss but if you look at the trend of league matches, we saw it coming. february is the one month we have to get our shit together before the champions knockout matches start! so there's more to learn from a loss than a win at this stage! this is do or die time for pere 🙏

so we have to note that it's the first home loss ever at estadi johan cruyff and it was against levante, a team that i've discussed a lot on my blog as being an example of a good team that has fallen from grace. it's women's team budget was cut and the team sold off all its top players, and levante is now facing potential relegation in the league.

this is a levante who fired its previous coach (who is facing serious allegations against him) and so you could say that levante has that "new coach bounce" feeling about them. they had a gameplan (low block and attack on counter) and they executed it well.

with that background, it was obvious that pere would be playing the "b" team, meaning mostly squad players. now when we talk about rotation in the team and that includes using bench players for matches against these lower ranked teams. they need to get minutes and game time and these are the "safer" matches to play. because at the end of the day, thankfully there's really no major consequence to the loss here but we know more about what areas the squad need to work on.

having said that, pere got his tactics wrong with this line-up. it felt like they hadn't played together and weren't on the same page with each other. now even when you play your "b" team, they should at least be able to anticipate each's others runs and be unified in the plan to break down a low block. that didn't happen here tonight and that's on pere with a lack of training against this type of defense from the opposition.

as evidence of that, there were too many moments when passes were mishit because of lack of anticipation of player runs or a player was on a run and then had to double back because the player with the ball was a step behind and they had to catch up. the reason we practise rondos and these small sided drills it to minimise this. but i saw way too much sloppiness today.

we need to be more disciplined. you saw errant passes or shots on goals when our players were getting frustrated, either due to a lack of calls by the referee or after time wasting by levante. you can't let opposition tactics get under your skin like that.

can pere please rest aitana for once? you can't start aitana and play her for 90+ minutes match after match and expect her to be effective as a leader for this "b" team. the same goes to caro who has just come back from injury. having said that, they had some great crosses, but we couldn't finish them...

by that same token, you can't throw on alexia and ewa and expect them to clean up your mess if the tactics are messed up from the start.

this is the most extreme example of what we have been battling with all season. there were so many matches with a weak first half and where we didn't score until the second half or get our flow going until the second half. it was too little, too late tonight.

we need to be more clinical on finishing. salma missed chances, aitana missed chances, esmee missed chances, kika missed chances, alexia missed chances. caro missed chances. it wasn't flowing for anyone. this has likewise been an issue since the beginning of the season. 47 shots and only 1 goal to show for it is unacceptable!

and to drill down on scoring, we need to be better on set pieces like corners and free kicks. we had 18 corners, 18! you can't have that many opportunities and not capitalise on them!

i can't put this loss on ellie but this is why we need more reps for her because we need to build up her confidence so that she's in total command of the defense and we don't have incidents like the second goal. by that token, not a great defensive performance. we can't ball watch and we need a better understanding as a unit. engen was okay in the first half and had a few mistakes in the second. but patri is injured and it doesn't help engen to say she's washed and be overly critical. just like everyone else, there are areas where she can improve too!

anyway, like cata says, with this team to the death, so let's watch the game tape back and make damn hell sure that we are learning from this! 🙏

#post match thoughts #fcb femení #levante ud #futfem #woso #cata coll

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chocochiffonnn · 1 day ago

Text

Cookies & Promises

➸ Pairing: Idol BF! Nishimura Riki x Reader

➸ Word Count: 1.5k words

➸ Synopsis: Baking and a clingy boyfriend who rarely got to see you— combining the two creates a chaos, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

➸ Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, some curse words, riki is sososososo clingy here, riki and niki used interchangeably. enjoy reading guys!

➸ Songs to play as you listen!

Junny - Promise

Johnny Stimson - Casual

New West - Lovely

Taylor Swift - Say Don't Go

Enhypen - XO

●・○・●・○・●●・○・●・○・●●・○・●・○・●●・○・●・○・●

Nishimura Riki always found a way to touch you.

It hardly mattered when the occasion was odd, or the crowd was rowdy and bustling. Subtly, Niki just somehow always found a way to come to contact with your skin.

Perhaps it is because his love language revolves around it Though he hates the idea of over the top physical affection in public, he truly does revel and thrive in the subject once the two of you are alone.

Like this very moment right now.

A particular Saturday night, after the two of you had gone for early dinner, you decided make some cookies as a dessert. Riki had gone over to your house, as he'd often do when he wasn't out doing idol business, practicing, or training.

Which is, in all honesty— is rare.

Thus, the reason for him lazing around your house all day and sharing nothing but movies, games, food, and laughter the last couple of hours. This particular night, however, was the first time you got to see each other again after a week of him being away.

And following this event, you supposed you wouldn't see him again for as long as a month or so as they are to be in tour.

It explains the reason why as you prepped the ingredients needed for the cookies and scurried around the kitchen, Niki had you in a back hug the entire time.

It didn't help the fact that his head was on your shoulder, too. Peppering soft and gentle kisses around your nape, neck, collarbone, and cheeks, occasionally.

"Riki, baby, can you let go for a bit? It's hard baking these cookies." You reason, as you set a carton of milk atop the table. Niki only hums, pulling you closer to his chest.

"Why?" He mumbles, low and gentle against your ear.

"What do you mean, why? You're like a clingy little koala! I might not get anything done at this rate!" Truth be told, you did love it when Niki was needy like this, acting like such a baby when in front of the cameras, he was but a "tough boy".

"I can help you with that..." Niki suggests, swaying the two of you side to side. You giggled, "Yes, you will! If only you let go of me and—"

All of a sudden, Niki turns you around and envelops you with his arms once more. It comfortably tightened around your neck, and you came to catch a whiff of his perfume you can recognize miles away.

"Baby, why do you want me to let go so bad? Do you not miss me?"

Niki says, as if you were dismissing him. His tone was rather teasing, "W-what? Of course I do!"

"Then it's okay if I cling to you while you bake?"

With a slight groan, you reluctantly agreed to his antics and turn around. Baking cookies had always been a simple task, which is bound to get tedious now as a Nishimura Riki now clings to you like a little koala bear.

Your ingredients were all complete and arranged, you grabbed a bowl to put the dry ingredients first, and a separate ones for the wet ingredients. All the while, Niki would do just about anything and everything to get you to pay attention to him.

Poking your cheek repeatedly, "Hey! Shh. Stop that." You turn to look at him, to which he only grins.

Then, taking one of the ingredients, "Where's the egg?"

Niki taps you in the shoulder, turns around, and with full confidence— he just... Acts like he's pooping, as mysteriously, and egg comes out of his hands. "Look, I lay eggs now."

He must think he must be so funny because right after, he started stomping his feet, snickering, and laughing so hard over his own joke.

You took the egg from him with a laugh in sake of entertaining him, and cracking the egg into the bowl.

Then, he'd make silly faces as you kneaded the dough.

"Imagine if the dough had a face, this is what it would be making right now."

Niki goes in front of you over the kitchen table, making silly little faces every time your hands came to contact with the cookie dough. He'd obnoxiously widen his eyes, puff his nose and ears, stick his tongue out.

One of his goofy faces made you cringe and laugh loudly, to which Niki smiled, "Heck yeah!"

Then, once you put the cookie dough in the oven, he'd stand in front of it and randomly start breakdancing in the middle of nowhere, pulling out his moves which would normally attract you. Now, it just made you shit in laughter.

"What are you doing?" You say, crossing your arms as Niki b-boyed. "I'm dancing for you, obviously!" He pants, doing flips and stumbling right after.

Thud.

"Oh my gosh! Are you okay?" You quickly come over to him, kneeling in front of his fallen figure, inspecting his leg which had fallen down. Niki didn't speak for a few seconds until, all of a sudden, he tackled you down the ground.

In a very tight, and heavy bear hug.

Hell, this boy put all his strength and weight upon you, encaging you with his legs, and keeping you impossibly close. You could hardly breath!

"Riki! Let me go!" You squirm under his hold, Riki only snorts, "I tricked you there baby! Ha! Take this!"

Riki suddenly started tickling you, and you felt like a worm under his hold. You were thrashing uncontrollably, laughing so immensely as he tickled, and tickled, and tickled.

'S-stop! Nooo!" You manage to mutter in between laughter, and he soon stops, opting to embrace you in the cold, hard apartment floor. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He says, rolling your bodies around like sausages.

Gosh. At times, it hardly felt like you were taking care of a boyfriend, but rather, it felt like you had a child! Nishimura Riki is ridiculously mischievous and childish that sometimes, it felt like you're going to go insane!

The oven timer ticks, and Niki finally lets you out of his grasp. You take the cookies out of the oven, let them to cool as you grabbed some of the ice cream from the freezer.

Niki merely observes as you prepared him a bowl of cookies and vanilla ice cream, smiling when you hand him the bowl. You grabbed your own, and the two of you head back to the couch to laze around for the rest of the night and enjoy the rest of the night with him by your side.

"You baked these cookies so good, damn." Niki says as the two of you faced each other at the couch, eating away the ice cream and cookies combination. You smile and mumble a small thank you, opting to not tease him for annoying you so much as the cookies did taste good.

Once the two of you were finished, you settled your bowls at the coffee table and heaved a sigh, "I won't be seeing you tomorrow anymore, yeah?" you randomly brought up out of the blue, a wave of reality washing over you.

It didn't really matter where Niki had gone to, even if it's a country away, miles away, even just a neighborhood away. At the end of the day, you always missed your annoying little boyfriend terribly.

Niki sensed your sudden change of mood, pulling you closer and placing you atop his lap. He wraps both of your arms around his neck as you lazily hunched over and embraced him.

Niki pats your back in comfort, "I'm still seeing you in the morning, baby, don't worry." He assures, though, you can sense by the tone of his voice that he too, is disappointed.

"I'll miss you."

"I'l miss you too, baby."

You pull back from his embrace, holding his face within your hands. You lovingly caressed it, memorizing every detail and tracing it as if it was his last day on earth. Maybe it is to be, for a month or so, at least.

Niki only hums into your touch, closing his eyes and warming into your feather fingers further. His long fingers roamed around your back, caressing it, too.

"It won't take long, I promise..." He mumbles, opening his eyes and holding one of your hands. You only nodded.

You knew Niki found enjoyment in what he was doing. Performing in front of big crowds, making his name known along with his hyungs— it's all really a matter of accepting the fact that your very clingy boyfriend just had to be away for so long.

But then again, Niki always keeps his promise. Even if it is to be a year away, a decade away, even a millennia, you knew that Nishimura Riki always holds true to what he says.

And you know that by the end of each day, he'll always come back home to you, over shared ice-creams and cookies, over shared laughters and assurance.

And most of all, over a shared lifetime with his one and only girlfriend.

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ END *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

#enhypen fanfics #enhypen fanfiction #fanfiction #kpop #nishimura riki #nishimura niki #enhypen #nishimura riki fanfic #nishimura niki fanfic #riki fanfiction #niki fanfiction #enhypen niki #enhypen riki #enhypen niki fanfiction #ot7 #niki x reader #nishimura riki x reader

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saebyeokbliss · 1 day ago

Text

ONCE MORE TO SEE YOU— PART IX.

synopsis: on a cold january day, you were worrying about the reason your girlfriend wasn’t texting back. when she finally does and asks to meet at your apartment, you’re met with heartbreak as she ends your relationship. no explanation. two years later, you run into her at a cafe with someone new. what are you to do?

warnings: angst, death, swearing, yelling, more stress HAHA

pairing: sae-byeok x fem!reader

The hospital always felt colder than it should. The sterile white walls and the faint smell of antiseptic clung to you like a second skin every time you walked through those doors. It was the kind of place that drained the warmth out of you, leaving only a gnawing sense of dread in its wake.

You hated being there. But you hated what it meant to not be there even more.

When you entered Veda’s room, the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor greeted you, a sound you had come to associate with her continued survival. She was propped up in the hospital bed, her small frame swallowed by the too-big sheets. Her face was pale, and the bruises from the accident had faded to a sickly yellow, but when her eyes met yours, she gave you a tired smile.

“Hey, Vee,” you said softly, setting your bag down on the chair by the bed.

“Hey,” she whispered, her voice weak but steady.

You pulled up a chair beside her, reaching out to take her hand. Her fingers were cold, and they trembled slightly as she squeezed your hand back. You’d been careful to hide your own exhaustion from her—she didn’t need to know about the sleepless nights, the eviction notice, or the constant weight of your parents’ demands. She had enough to deal with without worrying about you.

“How are you feeling today?” you asked, brushing a few stray strands of hair from her forehead.

“Better,” she said, though the effort it took her to speak made it clear she was lying. “The nurses said I might be able to start walking again soon. Isn’t that good?”

“Yeah,” you said, forcing a smile. “That’s great.”

She studied your face for a moment, her brow furrowing slightly. “You look tired.”

You laughed softly, trying to brush it off. “I’m fine. Just busy, you know? Work, school, all that fun stuff.”

She didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t press you. Instead, she leaned back against the pillows, her gaze drifting to the window. “Do you think I’ll ever get out of here?” she asked quietly.

The question caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. “Of course you will,” you said finally, your voice firm. “You’re going to get better, Vee. I promise.”

She didn’t say anything, but the way her lips curved into a faint smile told you that she wanted to believe you.

The two of you talked for a while, about nothing and everything all at once. You told her about the diner, about your coworkers, about the funny things customers said that made you want to laugh and cry at the same time. She told you about the books she’d been reading, about the nurses who were kind to her, and about the dreams she had of being anywhere but there.

For a little while, it felt almost normal. Like the hospital walls weren’t closing in, and the weight of the world wasn’t pressing down on your shoulders. But then, without warning, everything changed.

“Vee?” you said, noticing how her eyelids started to droop and her grip on your hand loosened. “You okay?”

She didn’t respond.

“Vee,” you said again, your voice rising slightly as panic began to creep in.

Her head lolled to the side, and the faint smile that had been on her lips was gone. The beeping of the heart monitor that had been your constant companion suddenly turned sharp and erratic, the sound cutting through the air like a knife.

“Veda!” you shouted, standing up so fast that the chair toppled over behind you. Her chest wasn’t moving. Her lips were turning blue.

The room dissolved into chaos as alarms blared and nurses rushed in, pushing you back as they surrounded her bed. Someone was shouting something—maybe it was you—but you couldn’t hear it over the deafening roar in your ears.

You watched helplessly as they worked on her, their movements frantic and precise. The minutes stretched on forever, each one more agonizing than the last. And then, just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped.

The heart monitor flatlined, the steady drone filling the room like a death knell. One of the nurses looked up at the clock, her expression grim. “Time of death: 3:47 PM.”

It felt like the ground had been ripped out from under you. Your knees buckled, and you sank to the floor, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening.

But it was.

Veda was gone.

You didn’t know how long you sat there, numb and shaking, before your parents arrived. The moment your mother stepped into the room, her eyes went straight to you. Her face twisted in grief, but beneath it, there was something else—something sharp and accusatory.

“What happened?” she demanded, her voice trembling. “What did you do?”

You stared at her, your mouth opening and closing as you struggled to find the words. “I—I didn’t—”

“She was fine this morning!” your mother shouted, tears streaming down her face. “She was fine, and now she’s—she’s—” She broke off, sobbing, as your father stepped forward, his expression hard.

“This is your fault,” he said, his voice cold and final. “You should’ve been watching her. You should’ve done something.”

Something inside you snapped.

“My fault?” you said, your voice rising as you stood up, fury coursing through you like wildfire. “You’re blaming me for this? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Don't curse at your parents! Who else is there to blame?” your father shot back. “You were here! You were supposed to be taking care of her!”

“I have been taking care of her!” you shouted, your hands trembling as you gestured wildly. “I’ve been taking care of everything! While you sit at home doing nothing, I’ve been working myself to death to pay for her medical bills, to keep a roof over your heads, to make sure she had a chance! And now you’re going to stand there and blame me?”

Your mother’s sobs grew louder, but she didn’t say anything. Your father opened his mouth to argue, but you didn’t let him.

“I’ve lost everything because of you!” you yelled, tears streaming down your face. “My house, my money, my future—everything! And for what? So you could sit there and tell me I’m not doing enough? I’ve been breaking myself apart for you, and it’s still not enough, is it? It’s never enough!”

The room fell into stunned silence, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air. Your chest heaved as you struggled to catch your breath, the anger and grief swirling inside you like a storm.

Your father didn’t respond. He just stared at you, his expression unreadable, while your mother cried into her hands. For the first time in weeks, you didn’t care what they thought. You didn’t care about their guilt trips or their accusations. You were done.

The walk back to your apartment felt endless, each step heavier than the last. The cold night air bit at your skin, but you hardly noticed. Your mind was a storm of emotions—grief, anger, guilt—each one pulling you in a different direction until you felt like you were going to burst. Veda was gone. The words echoed in your head, hollow and cruel. She was gone, and there was nothing you could do to change it.

By the time you reached your building, your legs felt like they might give out beneath you. You climbed the stairs slowly, every breath a struggle, until you reached your door. The eviction notice was gone—it was stuffed in your bag, forgotten for now—but the weight of it still lingered, a constant reminder that tomorrow would be your last day here.

You unlocked the door and stepped inside, the quiet of the apartment almost deafening. The single-room space, small and cluttered as it was, had never felt emptier. The air was cold, stagnant, and you couldn’t bring yourself to turn on the lights. You dropped your bag on the floor and sank into the sofa, burying your face in your hands as the tears finally came.

For a long time, you just sat there, the sobs wracking your body as the events of the day crashed over you like a wave. You cried for Veda, for the life she’d never get to live. You cried for yourself, for the weight you’d been carrying for so long. And you cried for the anger you felt toward your parents, for the guilt that came with it, and for the fact that, deep down, you still wanted to make them proud.

When the tears finally slowed, leaving you hollow and shaking, you dragged yourself to the kitchen to get some water. That’s when you saw it.

An envelope sat on the counter, stark white against the dark surface. Your brow furrowed as you approached it, your heart skipping a beat when you saw your name scrawled on the front in hurried, slanted handwriting. You recognized it instantly.

Sae-byeok.

Your hands trembled as you picked up the envelope, dread and confusion swirling in your chest. You tore it open carefully, your breath catching when you saw the contents.

Money. More money than you’d ever seen in your life.

You dumped the stack of bills onto the counter, your chest tightening as you tried to process what you were seeing. It couldn’t be real—there was no way—but the weight of the cash in your hands told you otherwise. And then, tucked beneath the last stack of bills, you found the note.

“You need it more than me.”

That was all it said. Short, simple, and so Sae-byeok that it made your head spin.

Your emotions swung wildly from confusion to disbelief to anger, the grief you’d been drowning in now replaced by a white-hot rage. You stared at the money, your hands curling into fists as the words of the note burned into your mind.

You didn’t want her pity. You didn’t want this.

Before you could stop yourself, you grabbed the envelope, stuffed the money back inside, and stormed out the door.

The diner was quiet when you arrived, the faint hum of fluorescent lights and the distant clatter of dishes the only sounds. Your heart pounded in your chest as you pushed open the door, your steps quick and purposeful as you made your way to the break room. You didn’t care that your shift wasn’t for hours or that barging in like this was bound to cause a scene. You needed to see her.

Sae-byeok was sitting at the small table in the break room, unbothered as she sipped from a mug of coffee. She looked up when you entered, her expression unreadable as her dark eyes flicked to the envelope in your hand.

“What the hell is this?” you demanded, your voice trembling with anger as you slammed the envelope onto the table.

She didn’t flinch. Instead, she set her mug down and leaned back in her chair, her gaze steady. “What does it look like?”

“It looks like you’re trying to buy me off,” you snapped, your voice rising. “Do you think this fixes anything? Do you think throwing money at me is going to make everything better?”

“It’s not about fixing anything,” she said, her tone calm but firm. “It’s about helping.”

“I don’t need your help!” you shouted, your hands trembling as you gestured wildly. “I don’t need your money, I don’t need your pity, and I sure as hell don’t need you swooping in like some savior to save me from my own damn life!”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, and for the first time, you saw a flicker of anger beneath her calm exterior. “You’re so full of shit,” she said, her voice cold.

Your breath caught in your throat, but she didn’t give you a chance to respond.

“You’re drowning, and you know it,” she continued, her voice rising as she stood up, her chair scraping against the floor. “You’re working yourself to death, losing your home, grieving your sister, and still trying to act like you’ve got it all under control. Well, guess what? You don’t. And there’s nothing wrong with admitting that.”

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut, but she didn’t stop.

“You think I don’t know what it’s like to struggle?” she said, her voice sharp and cutting. “You think I don’t know what it’s like to lose everything, to feel like the world is crushing you under its weight? I’ve been there. I’ve lived that. And I’m still living it.”

Her voice softened slightly, but the intensity in her eyes didn’t waver. “This isn’t about pity. It’s about survival. And whether you want to admit it or not, you need this money more than I do.”

You stared at her, your chest heaving as her words sank in. The anger that had been fueling you began to waver, replaced by something else—something raw and vulnerable that you didn’t want to face.

“I didn’t ask for your help,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

“No,” she said, her voice quiet but firm. “But you need it.”

The room fell silent, the tension between you thick and suffocating. You didn’t know what to say, your emotions a tangled mess as you stared down at the envelope on the table.

Finally, you shook your head, grabbing the envelope and shoving it back into your bag. “I don’t… I can’t…”

Sae-byeok didn’t respond, her expression unreadable as she watched you turn and leave the break room.

You didn’t stop walking until you were outside, the cold night air biting at your skin as you leaned against the side of the building. Your hands shook as you clutched the strap of your bag, the weight of the money inside pressing down on you like a physical thing.

You hated her for doing this. You hated her for making you feel small and weak and exposed. But more than that, you hated the part of you that was grateful—grateful for the money, for the gesture, for the fact that, even in her cold and unrelenting way, she cared.

For the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel completely alone.

taglist: @monroesturnns@everly-summers-solace@holyshtimgay@knfthxv@delfinadolphin@madebysae@jetaimeeeee@m0rtifiedg0th@katieschry1@erika-mon2-blog@tcvazq not taking anymore taglist additions!! sorry!!

#angst #fanfic #saebyeok x reader #sae byeok #wlw fiction #kang sae byeok x reader #squidgameseasonone #squid game #wuh luh wuh

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bwat5-blog · 9 hours ago

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A Sister's Love: Jinx & Vi

**Spoilers For Arcane**

A while back I had a short but pleasant discussion with someone on one of their posts about Jinx's treatment of Vi, and how it can feel like Jinx doesn't seem to care about Vi in many instances. In hopes of further discussion, I posted in the community where many of you wonderful folks shared your thoughts on the subject and I got a lot of really good insight into this as well. I was thinking about that this morning and it got me thinking about Jinx in general, and more specifically the times when even if it's not as clear, her love for Vi shines through.

I've said this many times but it bears repeating. I am aware that I have been quite harsh on Jinx. The unfortunate reason for most of that is that a significant amount of Jinx fans have an obsession with comparing her to Caitlyn or Vi that borders on the fanatical. But my issue has never been, and will never be with the character herself. I think she is absolutely amazing as a character and loved watching her story unfold.

*I do this every-time but I think it's important. Especially because some of you have shared with me that your own mental health is what has made you connect with Jinx so strongly. I understand and recognize that her mental health plays an immensely important role in her character's journey. I am in no way, shape or form a qualified mental healthcare professional. So any disrespect or lack of sensitivity is not my intention*

Jinx & Vi:

The journey of these sisters is heartbreaking and inspiring in equal measure. It is many people's favorite part of the story and for good reason. They are so close when the show begins and ripped apart by the darkness in their world. Only to fight their way back to one another through love and sacrifice.

But their story is not without conflict. In fact at their lowest point they almost kill one another. There is much that can be said about Vi's love for Jinx, the times she fails her, and those important moments, but I want to focus on Jinx right now.

I don’t have exact quotes on hand, but someone in the community made an excellent point during our discussion. Even when Vi and Jinx are at odds, and Jinx’s hallucinations try to convince her that Vi no longer loves her—that she’s been replaced by Caitlyn—Jinx fights back. She defends who she knows her sister to be, even if she can’t always silence those voices. It’s only pain, fear, or manipulation that pushes her too far, making her lose her grip on what she knows to be true.

During the horrifying sequence when Jinx is being saved by Singed, she hallucinates. And who does she hallucinate in that terrifying moment when she is in terrible pain and in such need of comfort? Vi. Even though she just tried to kill Vi on that bridge. The vision is only corrupted when Caitlyn appears, which all stems from Silco and Sevika feeding Jinx's paranoia.

Okay. I know what some of you are thinking seeing me post ANYTHING about the dinner party on a Jinx positive post. Hear me out. There is no question that Jinx does ALL sorts of fucked up shit here. But we are talking about her love for Vi. What does she want here? She wants things to be like they used to be. She wants her sister. She is in such a dark and twisted state that she cannot see how terrible her actions are, but at her core, she wants her older sister to love her like she used to. She doesn't hurt Vi (I mean aside from the bonk). Additionally, and again- I AM NOT SAYING SHE DIDN"T DO TERRIBLE THINGS HERE- Even with all she did to Caitlyn, she knows Vi cares for Caitlyn, she views Caitlyn as the one who was taking Vi from her, and yet she doesn't kill Caitlyn and she easily could have. This is not about justifying anything she does. It's about looking for what lies beneath the darkness in her to see the person she has the potential to be again.

Here at their lowest moment, when Vi and Jinx have almost killed each-other, and Jinx is glad Vi is the one who is going to finish her, Jinx screams "NO!" when Isha does this. She doesn't want Vi to die.

Vi is at her worst during her pitfighter arc. I'm not going super in-depth on this because this post is about Jinx but Vi is in a self-destructive spiral and totally alone. It's quite clear in one moment that Jinx is there in the crowd but if you slow down the whole sequence you actually see her there a few times. This was primarily what I was discussing with some other people and I believe Jinx was watching over Vi in the best way she could process. I'm sure there was some degree of pleasure in seeing Vi cast out by Caitlyn at first, but with all other signs pointing to Jinx caring for Vi I don't think Jinx was here laughing at her sisters pain. More trying to be there and watch over Vi but with no idea how to approach her with all that happened.

*I fully recognize there is a degree of speculation on my part for this point but I think it's reasonable, feel free to let me know if you disagree!*

With everything that has happened between them, the fact that Jinx comes to collect Vi when she finds out about Vander speaks volumes. There is still much to be worked out between them but she wants their family to together again including Vi. And although I couldn't find the GIF for it, when jinx is in the dark with her lighter after Vi and Vander fight is such a heart wrenching moment. She is clearly so afraid that she has caused the death of her sister, her dad, or both. She cares so much for those that she has left.

Jinx and Caitlyn's history is the furthest thing from simple. But in this moment, Caitlyn cast Vi out, hit her, became the commander and placed Zaun under martial law all because she wanted Jinx (this is not a who is right and who is wrong I'm just making a point), Jinx would HATE Caitlyn. But she knows what she means to Vi. And she just saw Caitlyn save Vander. Jinx easily could have let Rictus finish Caitlyn then jumped in if it was just about saving Vander but she still jumps headfirst into the fight.

In the aftermath of Isha and Vander's death, Jinx could easily have escaped Caitlyn. But Caitlyn tells Vi that all Jinx wanted was to make sure Vi was safe after Vi sacrificed herself to protect her.

Jinx's mindset in this moment is a complicated topic. But I want to focus her feelings about Vi. Vi has come and broken her out of jail, risked everything for her again. And Jinx realizes Vi will never give up on her. Even at great cost to herself. So Jinx punches her and leaves her, and almost begs her to start living for herself. Because she knows Vi cannot give herself that permission. She wants Vi to choose her own life, and to choose love.

Free and clear, obviously Jinx was going to do something horrible but thankfully Ekko talked her down. Even still, she could have done anything. But what does she choose to do? She chooses to ride to war with her people, honoring Vi's faith in her.

And of course, the absolutely devastating final sacrifice (I know she's alive but you get it) of Jinx saving Vi's life when the pain and grief finally overwhelm the fearsome brawler. I have mentioned it many times, but Jinx's core belief is that everyone who gets close to her dies. She thinks she is a curse on all who love her. But in her last action, she saves the life of the older sister she knows will always love her, and who never gave up on her.

I have touched on most of this before but it was just on my mind this morning. I hope I didn't bore anyone. I know there are LOTS of strong feelings about Jinx and like I have said over and over nothing here is about justifying the wrong she did. It's just about looking at those moments that showed her true colors even when she herself couldn't see them. Hope you enjoyed, take care!

#arcane #arcane season 2 spoilers #vi arcane #caitlyn kiramman #jinx arcane #vi and jinx #powder

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mommyslittlebird · 1 day ago

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A Room of Your Own

Married!WandaNat x Reader

Summary: After getting kicked out of your college dorm, you find yourself living with two older strangers. It was never meant to be anything more than a temporary arrangement born out of necessity, but as the semester continues, something new starts to grow.

CW: Homophobia, Getting Kicked Out, Slow Burn (No sex or romance in this chapter), Age Gap

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: I’m back from the dead, though probably not in the way you wanted or expected. I had to take a (not so) little break from one-shots and smut for the time being for some personal reasons. But I’m still finding ways to write and enjoy myself. Some of you probably have already seen this. It’s been up on AO3 for a while now. But I figured I’d post it here too.

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing any sort of slow burn, so we'll see if I can resist having them all fall into bed together in the first few chapters. I also don't know how to write an introductory chapter without making it boring as shit, so I at least made it short to spare you all. I promise it gets better.

Chapter 1 of A Room of Your Own

You sat, knees curled to your chest, on the curb in front of what used to be your dorm. It was late, a little after midnight, and absolutely pouring rain.

Three days. You had been in the dorms for three days and you had already been kicked out. You’d expect some pushback, going to a religious college and being queer, but nothing like this. Nothing like getting kicked out of your dorm in the middle of the night because you were making your roommates uncomfortable. You’d tried so hard to get them to like you. They seemed sweet. Not your type of people, sure, but you thought the three of you could get along just fine.

As it turns out, they were actually so repulsed by your presence they couldn’t even wait until classes started to kick you to the curb. Literally.

“Hey!” Somebody shouted from the doorway, holding a large umbrella. You turned to see her approaching and shrunk back in on yourself. You didn’t think you could handle anymore ridicule that evening.

When you didn’t respond or turn to face her, she sat down next to you, sure to cover you with the umbrella as well. She spoke softer now. “Hey. I’m sorry for what happened back there.”

You still didn’t speak, but you looked at her now, partially soaked from where she was sitting next to you on the wet concrete. “I’m Yelena.” She reached her hand out for you to shake.

You shook her hand. “Y/N. Nice to meet you.” You recognized her from your dorm floor, though you’d only ever seen her in passing.

“It’s nice to meet you as well,” she smiled softly. “I wish it were under different circumstances.”

You nodded, turning your gaze back to the raining night.

“Do you have anywhere to go? For tonight I mean. I would offer you to stay in my room, but…” she turned back to the door of the building. You both knew you couldn’t go back in there.

You shook your head. You hadn’t even thought where you would stay tonight. You could always stay in your car. It wouldn’t be the first night you’ve slept in the backseat. Still, the sopping wet clothes would surely make for a morning full of rashes and blistered skin.

Yelena sighed, looking at the ground. She was silent for a moment before she came up with an idea. “Let me call my sister. She and her wife have a massive place not so far from here. They’ll have a bedroom or two to spare.”

Before you could form a rebuttal of any sort, Yelena pushed the umbrella into your hands and dashed back inside. You tucked the umbrella between your leg and the crook of your arm, resting your head on your knees.

It wasn’t very long before Yelena was by your side again. “Okay she’s on her way. She’ll be here in about 10 minutes.”

You didn’t look at her, facing intentionally in the other direction. You felt so horrible. You just wanted to curl up and disappear. And now you were going to be picked and taken to the home of some random classmate’s sister? You try to formulate a response, a reason that you will be fine on your own, but there was nothing. It was either this or the back seat of your 1993 Toyota Corolla. Somehow, you bet Yelena wasn’t going to take that as a reasonable explanation as to why she should call off her sister.

“Are you coming with me?” You asked weakly.

She sighed and put her hand on your back. “I wasn’t planning on it, but I will if you really want me to.”

You finally turned to face her. She didn’t look thrilled at the prospect of leaving. She was probably a freshman. It was her first couple days in the dorm too and everything was so new and exciting. The last thing she wanted to do was go back home with her sister.

“No it’s okay,” you responded. The last thing you wanted was to inconvenience someone else tonight, and it’s not like a freshman you hardly knew was going to bring you much solace anyway.

She patted your back. “They’ll take good care of you, I promise.”

Before too much longer, Yelena stood up at the sight of headlights. She waved her arms in an “over here” motion. The car approached Yelena, stopping hard in front of the curb you were sitting on. The tires splashed you in rainwater and mud. Yelena winched, walking back towards you to usher you into the car.

She led you to the passenger door, popping it open and peeking her head in. “This is your girl,” she said, pointing back towards your soaked, mud covered figure. She motioned for you to sit.

You hesitated. The car looked nicer than any you’d ever been in before. The idea of ruining the nice leather seats made you want to shrink further into your ball of shame.

The woman in the driver's seat noticed your hesitation, but didn’t seem the slightest bit concerned with her seat. “Come on in,” she ushered. “Get out of that rain.”

You handed the umbrella back to Yelena, reluctantly taking a seat in the car. Yelena peaked her head back in to say “take care of her,” before closing the door and scurrying back into the dorms.

The woman looked at you, reaching up to pop on the overhead light. The sight of her in the light nearly took your breath away. She looked oddly familiar. Maybe you’d seen her around town. You sharply inhaled as the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen leaned over the console towards you. She frowned. “Oh you poor thing!” She reached out to wipe off your face. You cringed when you saw the mud smear across the sleeve of her jacket. “Let’s go home and get you cleaned up.”

You nodded and she turned the light off before pulling out of the parking lot. You fought the urge to curl up in her passenger seat, fearing further ruining her seats with the dirty bottoms of your shoes. When you didn’t speak, she offered up an introduction of her own. “My name is Natasha. I don’t know what Yelena’s told you, but I’m her sister. My wife and I have a place not so far from here.”

“I’m Y/N” you managed.

“A friend of Yelena’s?” She asked.

You chuckled a little. “I suppose you could say that. We met about 20 minutes ago.”

Natasha chuckled. “Of course. Leave it to Yelena to seek you out after such an injustice.”

You bit the inside of your lip. You wished you had heard the phone conversation so you could gauge just how much she knew.

It was as if Natasha could read your mind when she started next with the details of the phone call. “Yelena told me you got kicked out of the dorm by the other girls. They were uncomfortable because you were gay? I never expected to hear anything like that happening in 2024, but I guess I stand corrected.”

Well, that was one way of telling the story. At least Yelena had left out the peeping Tom allegations that got you chased off the floor by everyone who had to share a bathroom with you. They weren’t true, of course, but the fact that you’d made people so uncomfortable they were willing to name you a pervert without second thought made your skin crawl.

After a short, largely silent car ride, Natasha pulled the car into a garage. You hadn’t gotten a good look at the house, both because of the dark and getting lost in your own thoughts, but even by the state of the garage you could tell it was nice.

Natasha got out of the car, unlocking the door and leading you into the kitchen. You took your shoes off by the door, then decided to take your socks off too to avoid tracking muddy water through the house. The woman took your hand and guided you to the stairwell, then to a bathroom. She turned on the lights and opened up a cabinet, pulling out fresh towels and washcloths.

“I’ll get you some fresh clothes and sheets. The bedroom is through here.” She opened a door that revealed a sizable bedroom connected to the bathroom. You could hardly believe this wasn’t the master suite she’d led you too.

She turned to face you, exhaling as she once again took in your disheveled state. She picked some errant pebbles from your tangled hair and wiped it out of your face. “Now,” she started, “do you need anything else before I let you get cleaned up and off to bed?”

You shook your head. “No. You’ve done enough already. Thank you, Miss Natasha, for letting me stay here. It means a lot. Truly.”

“Of course.” She smiled. You didn’t notice the blush that crept onto her face at the formality. She swiped away the hair that had fallen in front of your eyes again. “We wouldn’t want a sweet girl like you sleeping out in the rain.” She booped the tip of your nose. “Now promise you’ll wake me or Wanda up if you need anything at all. We’re just in the room across the hall. Can’t miss it, it’s the only door on that side.”

You nodded slowly. There was no way in hell you were going to wake her or Wanda, who you assumed was her wife, for any reason. But you nodded anyway.

She smiled and rubbed your chin. “Good girl. Now go get cleaned up and try to get some rest.”

As she set off to her room, you hoped the mud had covered how pink your cheeks had gotten. You headed to the shower, sliding open the glass door and turning on the water. You decided to hop in with your clothes at first, hoping to get enough of the mud off that you could wear them again tomorrow. Then you wrang the clothes out and threw them over the door to dry. You took your time in the shower, letting the hot water warm you up from the cold rain. By the time you were finally clean, you grabbed the fresh towel Natasha had left for you.

Your clothes were, obviously, still soaked save for your underwear. You were thankful for the little time it had taken the thin silky material to dry. You put them back on and wrapped yourself in a towel before entering into the bedroom.

There was a maroon hoodie at the end of the bed. It had been there since Natasha first showed you the room, so it clearly wasn’t laid out for you. However, in lieu of other clothes, you decided the owner probably wouldn’t mind if you borrowed it for the night. You slipped the soft fabric over your head. It was much too big for you, going down to almost your mid thighs while the sleeves dangled over your hands. But it was, quite possibly, the softest material that you’d ever felt. It felt simultaneously brand new and freshly washed.

You crawled up into the queen sized bed, slipping under the covers. You held the fabric of the hoodie close to your face. It smelled nothing like the musky bergamot of Natasha, which had been equally as entrancing in its own way. This was distinctly different. It smelled soft and comforting like lying in a meadow on a spring day. The comforting smell and warmth, along with your own exhaustion, quickly had you asleep.

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wandanat x y/n #wandanat x you #wandanat x reader #wandanat #natasha x you #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #a room of your own

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crowsofdarkness · 3 days ago

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Dorogaya: Chapter Eight

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader.

Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, kidnapping, violence.

Summary: It has been a few years since Bucky and Reader went into hiding. Just when they thought they were slowly building a life together, the past comes back with a vengeance.

Authors Note: This is the sequel to Soldat! You should read that series first. This takes place during Civil War. Tags are open if anyone is interested!

Tags: @globetrotter28 @sakuracyberhex @chinggay85-blog @bookofriverr @misatxox @that-blonde-girl @cats-chaotic-mind @wintrsoldrluvr @sebastians-love @pumpkin-babydoll @ordelixx @starfly-nicole @j23r23 @baw1066

Soldat Masterlist | Dorogaya Masterlist

The jet landed a few moments ago and I stood next to Bucky as he carefully chose a gun from Natasha’s collection. His shoulders tensed, the looming fight approaching, and I laid my hand on his lower back.

“Are you alright?” I questioned.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

I knew he was lying but also knew not to press him in these kinds of situations. My feet turned to walk away but his fingers slipped a knife in the pocket of my suit.

“Ready?” Steve asked once the ramp opened, the cold Sokovian air chilling us to the bone.

I nodded then followed behind the two super soldiers; Bucky’s gun held high and Steve blocked us with the shield. The snow crunched beneath our boots as we came to a stop in front of the door of the old building; it was already opened.

“He couldn’t have been here more than a few hours,” Steve noted.

“Just enough time to wake them up,” Bucky said.

He motioned for me to step between the two of them as we entered the building. There was a cold chill throughout the building; nothing to do with the coldness outside. We entered the small elevator, and I squeezed between the two of them. Bucky was at my back while Steve stood in front. The warmth of Bucky’s breath caused my skin to prickle and Steve watched with slight jealousy as Bucky placed a chaste kiss on my ear.

I smiled brightly at his silent cue and when my eyes met with Steve, his jaw set hard. He gave us a curt nod, making sure that we had our heads in the game. Bucky and I both nodded, letting him know that we were ready for what was about to happen.

The elevator doors opened, Steve stepping off first, and we looked around the deserted building. Everything was coming back to me in flashes, the familiar halls and corridors. Knowing what that door led to or what was down that hall.

“Doll?” Bucky looked over his shoulder to me as he led us towards a staircase.

“I’m okay,” I reassured him with a nod.

A loud bang from behind caused us all to jump, Bucky pulling me closer to him with his gun held high. Steve kneeled in front of me with his shield as we prepared for the reason behind the bang.

“Fucking christ Tony, you scared the shit out of us,” I cursed towards the man in the iron suit.

Steve stepped forward, them having their own conversation while I stayed in front of Bucky, who still had his gun raised towards Tony. After our fight at the airport, Bucky wasn’t taking any chances.

“There’s a truce here, you can drop it,” Tony told Bucky.

I gently pushed the gun down and Bucky sighed, leaning against the wall. He motioned behind him, muttering that we need to keep moving.

The four of us walked past an all too familiar room and I had to pause, remembering the horrors.

The training room where Bucky had trained me.

“C’mon,” Bucky gently gripped my elbow to pull me along. “It’s not good to remember.”

However, as soon as we entered the main part of the building, it was Bucky’s turn to freeze for a moment. We came face to face with the chair that Bucky had a permanent residence in all those years ago.

“I’ve got heat signatures,” Tony commented.

“How many?” Steve asked.

“Uh, one.”

They didn’t notice the look of horror on Bucky’s face so with a gentle tug on his elbow, like the one he gave me, I pulled him along. He hesitated for a second before nodding. The gun was raised as we walked up to the cryo chambers.

“What the hell?” He muttered.

I could feel his own heart beat through my own chest, the cryo chambers scaring him.

The six cryo chambers had bullet holes in them; right in the middle of the super soldiers' foreheads.

“If it’s any comfort,” a voice came over the speaker. “They all died in their sleep.”

Pulling the knife out of my suit, I flipped it a few times, getting ready for whatever was coming.

“Do you really think I wanted more of you two hydra soldiers?” The voice said again, now knowing it was the doctor. Only who wasn't a doctor. He was portraying a doctor in order to get close to Bucky.

Helmut Zemo.

“I am grateful for them, though. They brought you here.”

Steve stood face to face with Zemo, who was hiding behind a chamber that could withstand a nuclear blast.

“You killed innocent people in Vienna to bring us here. Why?” Steve asked.

I could feel the regret fill Bucky’s bones so I squeezed his biceps, letting him know that it’s alright. As Steve and Zemo talked, my attention turned to them with their last sentence.

“I have lost everyone. Now, so will you,” Zemo clicked on a T.V next to Steve.

Even though the letters on the screen were foreign, I immediately recognized the date.

December 16th, 1991.

The feeling of regret and self hatred filled my veins and looking over to Bucky, his eyes dropped, refusing to meet my gaze. He walked away from us as Steve, Tony, and I started to watch the video.

It was from a security camera panning to a dirt road.

“I know that road,” Tony stuttered. “What is this?”

He demanded his question towards Zemo, who remained silent.

I watched side by side with Tony, both in horror when a car came out of nowhere and slammed into a tree. A man on a motorcycle came up, stepping off with large strides towards the car. My breath caught in my throat when I immediately recognized the metal arm on screen as it broke the necks of the two people in the car.

Those two people were Mr. and Mrs. Stark; Tony’s parents.

The Winter Soldier had killed Tony’s parents.

Bucky’s jaw tensed when we finally met each other's gaze so I left Tony’s side, walking over to him. I placed a hand on his cheek, the feeling of self hatred becoming almost too much to bear. No matter if he wasn’t that man anymore, it still pained him to know that he did it.

“I don’t hate you,” I murmured, answering the silent plea in his eyes.

He pulled away from my touch, not allowing himself to feel anything other than the loathe he was forcing himself to feel. Tony’s dark eyes sliced into Bucky, lifting his hand ready to shoot. As Bucky raised his gun to protect himself, I stood in front of him, ready to protect Bucky with my life; hands sparking to life with fire.

Steve held Tony to stop him. “No, Tony.”

He looked over to Steve. “You knew?”

Steve could only nod.

My stomach dropped at that revelation.

“You knew and didn’t tell me?” I asked, dumbfounded. “You kept this from us?”

“I didn’t know it was him,” Steve started.

I shook my head. “Bullshit. You fucking knew!”

Tony remained silent, trying to process everything. Before I knew exactly what was happening, Tony had hit Steve, tossing him across the floor.

This was the one fight that none of us wanted to have.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan #bucky barnes and reader #the winter soldier #marvel #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier smut #bucky barnes x agent!reader #james barnes smut #james barnes imagine #james bucky barnes #james barnes #james buchanan barnes #soldat bucky barnes #dorogaya bucky barnes

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