#and then it came back to me and i almost passed out | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

deansbeer · 1 day ago

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𝐀 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

♡ ⋮ my content is not suitable for minors.

pairing 𓏵 soldier boy x female reader.

synopsis 𓏵 your boyfriend ben can’t do romance like a normal person, so he threatens your boss and gives you a week-long birthday sex fest to celebrate.

sticky notes 𓏵 happiest of birthdays to my beloved smin @plasticflowersinahistorycemetery! I LOVE YOU SO SOOOOO MUCH 🤍 she knew i was up late last night waiting for the clock to strike midnight and that i was writing a little something for her special day <3

you’d been dating ben for almost a year now, and in that time you’d learned to read between the lines of his gruff exterior. soldier boy wasn’t exactly known for his emotional intelligence — decades of being america’s golden boy followed by even more decades of russian experiments hadn’t left much room for learning how to express feelings properly.

but you’d learned his tells: the way he’d pull you closer in his sleep, how he’d always make sure you ate before he did, the protective hand on your lower back whenever you were in public.

still, as you pulled into the driveway after another exhausting day at work, you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. it was your birthday, and while you hadn’t expected some grand romantic gesture (that wasn’t ben’s style), you’d hoped for... something. maybe dinner at that steakhouse he liked, or even just a “happy birthday” that morning. instead, he’d been passed out when you left for work, reeking of bourbon from whatever bender he’d been on with butcher the night before.

the house was suspiciously quiet when you entered, no blaring television or sounds of ben rummaging through the kitchen. “ben?” you called out, setting your bag down by the door. “baby? you home?” silence greeted you, and you tried not to let the hurt creep in. maybe he’d forgotten entirely. it wouldn’t be the first time his substance-enhanced brain had let something slip through the cracks.

“in here,” his deep voice finally rumbled from the bedroom. you followed the sound, finding him sitting on the edge of the bed in just his sweatpants, looking oddly nervous. ben didn’t ever do nervous. he did cocky, angry, occasionally fond when it was just the two of you — but nervous was new. “took you long enough to get home.”

“yeah, well, some of us have actual jobs,” you said, trying to keep the mood light despite your disappointment. “everything okay? you look... weird." you noticed then that the bedroom was different — candles everywhere (definitely new, ben thought candles were for ‘pussies and women’), and was that... massage oil on the nightstand?

“your boss won’t be a problem anymore,” he said abruptly, standing up and moving toward you. “told that pencil-pushing fuck that you’re taking the week off. starting now.” his hands came to rest on your hips, and you could see him struggling with whatever he was trying to say. “…for your birthday. which is today. and i didn’t forget.”

“ben, you can’t just threaten my boss,” you started, but he cut you off with a look that said he absolutely could and definitely had. “what did you do? please tell me you didn’t threaten to throw him out a window. i need that job.”

“didn’t touch him,” ben said, though his smirk suggested he'd wanted to. “just had a friendly conversation over the phone about how my girl deserves a week off for her birthday. mentioned how accidents happen, especially to normal humans who overwork their employees.” his hands tightened on your hips. “may have also mentioned what i did to the last person who made you cry.”

“baby, that was a mugger who tried to steal my purse,” you pointed out, though you were fighting a smile now. the idea of ben intimidating your stick-up-his-ass boss into giving you vacation time was actually kind of sweet, in a deeply dysfunctional way. “so what’s with all this?” you gestured to the candles, the oil, the general attempt at ambiance.

“it’s your birthday,” he said, like that explained everything. when you continued to stare at him, he huffed out a breath. “look, i’m shit at this stuff, okay? the whole... feelings thing. romance. whatever the fuck normal people do.” he pulled you closer, until your bodies were pressed together. “but you put up with my ass, so i figured... i could try.”

“benjamin,” you said softly, using his full name which you knew he secretly loved. “you didn’t have to do all this. i would have been happy with just—”

“no,” he interrupted, his voice firm. “you deserve more than just ‘happy with.’ been thinking about it all week. you know what i used to do for birthdays?” he didn't wait for an answer. “herogasm. created the whole fucking thing back in ‘52. week-long sex fest where supes could let loose, no judgment, no rules.” his eyes darkened as he looked down at you. “figured i could create something better. just for you.”

“are you saying you’re throwing me my own personal herogasm?” you asked, torn between laughing and being genuinely touched. only ben would think a week-long sex marathon was the height of romance. then again, considering his history, this was actually progress.

“better than herogasm,” he corrected, walking you backward toward the bed. “those were about quantity, showing off, proving who could last longest. this...” he paused, seeming to struggle with the words. “this is about you. what you want. what makes you feel good." his voice dropped to that gravelly tone that never failed to make you shiver. “starting with working every fucking knot out of your body.”

“is that what the oil is for?” you asked, already knowing the answer from the predatory look in his eyes. “ben, you don’t have to—“

“strip,” he commanded, but there was a softness under the order. “birthday girl gets what birthday girl deserves, and what you deserve is to not think about that fucking office for the next seven days.” his hands were already at the buttons of your blouse, surprisingly gentle. “been watchin’ youtube videos all day. turns out you can learn anything on the internet now.”

“you watched massage tutorials?” you couldn’t help the surprise in your voice. ben barely knew how to work his phone, claimed technology was for weaklings who couldn’t handle real life. the idea of him struggling through youtube videos just to learn how to give you a massage did something warm and fuzzy to your chest.

“shut up,” he muttered, but there was no heat in it. “kept getting distracted by the fucking ads. do you know how many hot singles are apparently in our area?” he'd gotten your blouse off, was working on your pencil skirt. “told them all to fuck off. got my hot single right here.”

soon you were face down on the bed in just your panties, ben straddling your thighs as he warmed the oil between his hands. “tell me if i hurt you,” he said, and you knew he meant it. for all his strength, all his bravado, ben was terrified of his own power when it came to you. you’d seen him bend steel without thinking, but he touched you like you were made of delicate glass.

“you won’t,” you assured him, then gasped as his hands made contact with your back. he was surprisingly good at this, strong fingers finding knots you didn’t even know existed. “fuck, that feels good.”

“you’re so fucking tense,” he muttered, working his thumbs along your spine. “that boss of yours has been running you dry. should have stepped in sooner.” his hands moved lower, dealing with the tension in your lower back. “been thinking about you all day. how you’d look spread out on our bed, letting me take care o’ya.”

“is that all you’ve been thinking about?” you teased, though it came out breathier than intended. his hands were doing wonderful things to your muscles, and you could feel yourself melting into the mattress. “just giving me a nice, innocent massage?”

“nothing innocent about what i plan to do to you,” he growled, hands sliding down to your ass, kneading the flesh there. “this is just the warm-up, sweetheart. got seven days to show you exactly how much i appreciate you putting up with my shit.” he leaned down, pressing kisses along your spine. “seven days to worship every inch of this gorgeous body.”

“ben,” you gasped as his hands slipped under the waistband of your panties. “thought this was supposed to be a massage.” but you were already arching into his touch, body responding to him like it always did. a year together and he still affected you like this, still made you feel like you were burning from the inside out.

“it is,” he said, pulling your underwear down and off. “just a very thorough massage. gotta make sure every part of you is relaxed.” his hands returned to your ass, squeezing and spreading, and you could feel his eyes on you. “fuck, look at you. prettiest thing i’ve ever seen, and you’re all mine.”

“all yours,” you agreed, spreading your legs wider in invitation. the massage had been nice, but you both knew where this was heading. where it always headed when ben got his hands on you. “ben, please...”

“please what, baby?” he asked, fingers trailing dangerously close to where you wanted them. “gotta use your words, birthday girl. told you, this week is about what you want.” his thumb brushed against your entrance, gathering the wetness there. “though i gotta say, seems pretty clear what you want right now.”

“want you,” you moaned, trying to push back against his hand. “want you to fuck me. been thinking about it all day too, couldn’t concentrate at work.” that was true — you’d spent most of your last meeting fantasizing about coming home to exactly this, though you’d never imagined he’d actually plan something.

“yeah?” his voice was rough now, affected. “my girl sitting in her office, thinking about my cock instead of spreadsheets or whatever the fuck you do there?” you felt the bed shift as he shoved his sweatpants off. “that why you’ve been so tense? just needed to be fucked properly? hm?”

“yes,” you admitted, past the point of shame. “need you, baby. please.” you felt the blunt head of his cock at your entrance, teasing but not pushing in. “it’s my birthday, you can’t tease me on my birthday.”

“wouldn’t fuckin’ dream of it,” he growled, and then he was pushing in, one smooth thrust that had you grabbing at the sheets. “holy fuck, you feel perfect. always so fucking perfect f’me.” he set a devastating pace immediately, none of his usual build-up. “that’s it, take it. such a good girl, taking everything that i give you.”

the praise made you clench around him, which just spurred him on. “my good girl,” he continued, one hand on your hip and the other pressed between your shoulder blades, keeping you pinned to the mattress. “only mine. that fuckin’ boss of yours better remember that. anyone who sees you better remember that.”

“yours,” you gasped out, the word broken by moans as he hit that perfect spot inside you. “only yours, ben. forever.” the position had you completely at his mercy, unable to do anything but take what he gave you, and you loved it. loved the weight of him over you, the controlled power in every thrust.

“damn right,” he agreed, picking up the pace. “gonna spend this whole week showing you. gonna fuck you in every room of this house, on every surface. gonna make you come so many times you forget your own name.” his hand slid from your back to your hair, gripping it gently. “but you’ll remember mine, won’t you, sweet thing?”

“yeah,” you cried out, already embarrassingly close. “ben, i’m— fuck, ‘m close. please, need to—”

“come for me,” he commanded, his other hand sliding under you to find your clit. “come all over my cock like the good lil’ slut you are. show me how much you love your birthday present.” his fingers circled your clit in time with his thrusts, and that was all it took. you came with a scream, body shaking as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

ben fucked you through it, praising you the whole time. “that’s right, that’s my fuckin’ girl. so beautiful when you come. could watch you fall apart for days.” and you knew he meant it — his stamina was legendary, a side effect of the compound v that you definitely didn’t complain about. “thankfully we’ve got all week for that.”

he flipped you over suddenly, cock never leaving your body, and you gasped at the new angle. “wanna to see your face,” he explained, leaning down to kiss you. it was surprisingly tender for the brutal pace he was maintaining. “there she is. my beautiful birthday girl.”

“ben,” you moaned against his lips, oversensitive but already building toward another orgasm. “s’too much, i can’t—”

“yes, you can,” he insisted, hooking one of your legs over his shoulder to go deeper. “know you can. my girl can take anything i give her, can’t she?” his thumb found your clit again, and you cursed, back arching off the bed. “just like that. one more for me, sweetheart. let me see those pretty eyes when you come.”

you forced yourself to keep eye contact as the second orgasm approached, watching his face contort with pleasure. “fuck, you’re squeezing me,” he groaned. “gonna make me come. where do you want it, birthday girl?”

“inside,” you gasped out. “wanna to feel you. please, ben, want all of you.” that did it — he thrust deep one final time and came with a roar, filling you as you tumbled over the edge again. the feeling of his release triggered aftershocks, smaller orgasms that had you clinging to him desperately.

he collapsed on top of you, careful to keep most of his weight on his forearms. you both lay there panting, bodies still connected, coming down from the high. “happy birthday, baby,” he murmured against your neck, pressing surprisingly gentle kisses there. “hope you liked part one of your present.”

“part one?” you asked, still dazed. “ben, if that was just part one, i don’t think i’ll survive the week.” but you were smiling, running your fingers through his hair. he practically purred at the contact, that hidden soft side coming out now that he’d properly fucked you into the mattress.

“oh, you’ll survive,” he promised, pulling out carefully and gathering you against his chest. “got it all planned out. tomorrow we’re christening the kitchen counter. always wanted to fuck you there while you’re trying to cook.” his hand traced patterns on your bare skin. “then the shower, the couch, that fancy dining room table you insisted on buying...”

“you’ve really thought this through,” you said, touched despite the crude delivery. in his own way, this was ben’s version of romance — planning out a week of debauchery designed entirely around your pleasure. “no work, no responsibilities, just...”

“just me taking care of you,” he finished. “showing you how much...” he paused, struggling again. “how much you mean to me. hell, i’m bad at this shit.” he pressed his face into your hair, hiding. “but you make me want to try. make me want to be better than the asshole everyone thinks i am.”

“you’re my asshole,” you said fondly, turning in his arms to kiss him properly. “and this is perfect. you’re perfect. even if you did terrorize my boss.” you pulled back to look at him seriously. “thank you. for all of this. for trying. i love you too, you know. even if you can’t say it yet.” you knew he struggled with those words, forty years of russian torture having beaten most emotional expression out of him.

but he showed it in other ways — like planning a week-long sex festival for your birthday, apparently. and that was enough. more than enough.

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riieeuu · 2 days ago

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❝You ruined me.❞

When the storm outside mirrors the chaos within, some truths drown in silence — and others burn hotter than the rain. That was exactly the case for Gojo Satoru when it came to you.

p1 -> here // mlist. -> here

Gojo Satoru noticed your absence almost immediately in the days following the incident —and he hadn’t regretted something this deeply in a long, long time.

Of course, he noticed. He always had. Even before the bet, he’d been watching you — drawn by something he couldn’t explain. You were magnetic.

That was why he could never turn the dare down when you were the subject. It was never about proving himself with girls. It wasn’t even about proving Geto wrong.

It was you. Then suddenly, you were gone. Not literally — but gone from him.

You began switching classes. Changing your usual routes. You stopped showing up in the places that once gave you peace — the quiet courtyard, the corner table in the library, the tree you always read under.

That tree became a silent monument to your absence, one Gojo couldn’t pass without feeling the hollow space you left behind.

He tried to pretend it wasn’t happening. But denial crumbled the moment he sought out one of the few people you ever willingly spoke to.

Unfortunately for him, she was fiercely protective of you.

Sharp tongue. Calm demeanor. And absolutely no patience for him.

“Where is she?” he asked Shoko that day, trying too hard to sound casual.

But everyone in his circle had already noticed the shift in him — even the most oblivious, like Haibara. Gojo looked unwell: jittery, unfocused, scanning every hallway and courtyard like he was searching for some divine treasure.

He snapped more often, even at Geto’s harmless jokes. His sunglasses were frequently missing, and during classes, he’d squint out the window at that damned tree like he was expecting someone to appear out of thin air.

Shoko regarded him with a long, unreadable look before lighting a cigarette.

“Why?” she asked coolly. “Trying to finish the game?”

He had no answer for that. He knew he was in the wrong — should’ve told you, should’ve explained, shouldn’t have let it begin as a joke. Should’ve admitted he’d been drawn to you long before the dare.

Now his thoughts looped endlessly — should’ve, shouldn’t have, circling around his head in a repetitive cycle. The guilt was a weight on his chest, making every breath harder than the last.

A week passed before he finally saw you again.

Across the courtyard, your gaze landed on him for a single moment — then slid right past, as if he was no one to you, a stranger.

Your look wasn't angry. Not hurt either, just... indifferent. Like you were trying to erase the memory of him before it could cut too deep into your soul that you bared to him.

Gojo’s breath caught. He stepped forward, reaching a hand out instinctively — but stopped short of touching you.

“H...” The sound lodged in his throat.

His sunglasses slipped down the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t force you to stay, couldn’t demand your attention — because some part of him knew he didn’t deserve it.

His hand hovered in the space between you, then dropped, useless and heavy at his side.

You didn’t stop. Didn’t hesitate.

The world moved on around him — students laughing, wind rustling the trees — but all Gojo could feel was the cold, that same empty silence you left echoing behind.

He stood there, arm still half-outstretched, like someone trying to catch something they had no right to hold.

You never looked back. Of course you didn’t. Why would you?

He stayed rooted to the spot long after you disappeared around the corner, throat tight, chest burning. The sky felt too bright. The air too thin.

He ran a hand through his hairb— frustrated, helpless, ashamed. And then he laughed.

Low. Bitter. The kind of laugh that didn’t sound like him at all.

“God,” he muttered. “I really fucked this up.”

He sank onto the nearest bench, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. His sunglasses dangled from his fingers, forgotten.

Because what was the point?

He couldn’t take back a moment. Couldn’t erase a dare. Couldn’t return to that first time he saw you beneath that tree and choose better.

He never should’ve led with a line. He should’ve told you the truth the moment it stopped being a game. He should’ve—

The list was endless. A voice finally broke through the spiral.

“You look like shit.”

Gojo didn’t look up. He didn’t have to. He knew that voice.

Geto sat down beside him anyway, eyes like a fox trained on the same corner you’d vanished behind.

“She’s really not talking to you, huh.”

No answer.

Silence stretched between them — thick, heavy. Heavier than any curse they’d ever faced.

“I didn’t think you’d actually fall for her,” Geto added, his voice lower now. Quieter, softer.

Gojo’s jaw clenched. His fingers tightened around the bridge of his glasses.

“Yeah,” he said hoarsely. “Me neither.”

It started as a drizzle. Then, it became a downpour.

You’d always loved this kind of weather — used it to settle your nerves, to drown out the world. You never faced your emotions directly. Instead, you buried them in distractions: a good book, a warm drink, ambient noise.

The window fogged up as the rain picked up. You stepped closer, pressing your fingers against the glass, absentmindedly tracing patterns into the condensation. Before you realized it, you were drawing something.

Your hand stilled at what you drew.

A familiar cartoon face stared back at you — Gojo, grinning the way he always did when he’d sneak doodles into the corners of your notebooks. “I’m annotating,” he once claimed with fake solemnity. For which you’d smack his arm while laughing until your sides ached.

Your smile faltered. Then your breath caught.

Through the blurred pane and streaking rain—another Gojo.

You blinked, rubbed your eyes. Squinted through the downpour. No illusion. He was really there.

Standing beneath your window, looking up — the tree behind him, the one you hadn’t approached since that day, stood like a silent witness to whatever was about to happen. Once your sanctuary, now only watching.

He stood motionless. Soaked to the bone. Hair plastered to his forehead. Shirt clinging to his frame. Hands buried in his pockets like they were the only thing holding him together.

He wasn’t supposed to be here. Not now. Not in this place. But there he was: under the bare limbs that had once held your laughter, your silence, your peace.

Now they were just like branches. Reaching but empty.

The moon was hidden behind dense clouds. The world outside glowed blue and silver — washed out and breathless in that way only rainstorms could render.

You opened the window, he looked at you from down there. Eyes hollow. Expression unreadable. And then — he broke.

“You win!” he shouted, voice cracking. “Okay?! You fucking win!”

No response. Only the rain. He paced, dragging both hands through his hair until his scalp stung.

“I was stupid. I am stupid. I didn’t mean for it to happen like that. I didn’t know it would matter. I didn’t know you would matter this much. But you—”

His voice collapsed.

“You ruined me.”

The words fell from him like a confession. Desperate. Shattered.

“You’re in my head. Every second. Every goddamn second. And I deserve it. You were right to walk away. You were right not to look back.”

Thunder rolled overhead, low and distant — like it was syncing with his collapse.

Gojo looked up again, meeting your gaze — clothes and skin drenched. His hands hung limply at his sides, rain tracing slow paths down his lashes.

He tilted his head back, staring at the sky now like it owed him an answer.

“But I miss you,” he whispered shouted. “More than I know what to do with.”

And he stayed there. For long seconds after the clouds passed. Long after the cars drove by, yearning.

Because no amount of rain could wash him away from you.

His gaze drifted back to your window hope clinging to him like a second skin, trembling and raw. Just one more moment. One more glance. One more miracle.

Instead… the window closed. Soft. Quiet. Final.

He stared at it, lips parted, rain drops now carving paths down his cheeks — hiding the things he couldn’t say. His expression twisted, something splintering behind his eyes.

A laugh broke from him — jagged, trembling, nearly a sob. It had become a habit, the madness of missing you cracking him open in strange ways.

He kicked a rock at the base of the tree. Hard. It bounced into the dark, clattering against nothing.

“Of course,” he muttered, broken. “Of fucking course.”

He dragged both hands through his soaked hair, pulling hard— like he could yank the ache out from the root.

Then — click. The window opened again. He froze. You stood there; Still maddeningly composed. But something was different this time. Something colder. Sharper.

He opened his mouth then—

Splash.

A full shower of water hit him square in the chest. It wasn’t rain this time. It was hot.

Not boiling, but hot enough to sting. Hot enough to jolt him. It seeped through his already drenched clothes, a shock of heat against the chill.

He stumbled back, blinking rapidly as steam curled off his shirt.

“What the—?!”

You stared down at him, still as stone, bowl empty now in your hands. Voice calm. Eyes glinting.

“You looked cold.”

Then—slam.

The window shut. Harder than before. Gojo stood there, stunned. Water dripping from every inch of him. Steam curling faintly off his chest like your contempt had a temperature of its own.

Another strangled laugh ripped out of him. Unsteady. Grief-laced. Almost hysterical.

“God, I fucking love you,” he whispered to the empty street.

Then, a quiet click echoed as the dorm building door unlocked — and the night held its breath...

taglist: @tootiecakes234 @slvvt4geto @redcellghost @slightlystressed @aroura-yuh @miiikooooooo @reveriennn

i think ts was too dramatic but bear w me

#jjk #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jjk x you #riiee!writes #jjk fic #jjk angst #angst #fanfic

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taodarlington · 2 days ago

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HARVEY , her's .ೃ࿐ todoroki shoto

SYNOPSIS : todoroki shoto is as obvious as they come, but he's also just as oblivious.

NOTES : ughh he's so cutie, no use of y/n, fluff

when it came to you, todoroki shoto was nothing close to subtle.

sure, he'd still be just as quiet, just as aloof, but when the mention of you cropped up, there was always a smile creeping onto his face and an obvious shift in his mood.

todoroki could be doing something as mundane as sharpening his pencil whilst engaging in a discussion with midoriya about the new history notes, and his eyes would suddenly light up and he'd go quiet. midoriya, the sweet boy, immediately noticed.

"are you okay, todoroki? you stopped talking all of a sudden." midoriya asked. todoroki looked up before nodding, as if he was trying to convince himself of something. "yes, midoriya, i'm feeling quite alright. very alright."

the truth was, todoroki had remembered that the pencil he was sharpening was yours. just a normal pencil, with a few cute cat stickers pasted near the eraser end. you had given it to him in passing when he voiced that he had forgotten his own back in his dorm. he cared for it like it was a priceless treasure, never letting anyone borrow it nor letting it out of his sight.

as he slowly twirled the pencil around with his fingers, the tips of his ears flushed pink and he subconsciously bit down the grin crawling up his cheeks.

midoriya smiled at the boy and continued to write notes.

another instance was during lunch. you had been paired up with sero for a project, and you had excused yourself from your usual seat next to todoroki to discuss the topic you and your project partner had chosen.

todoroki's eyes never left your form for the entirety of lunch. he'd gaze at you with a soft look in his eyes, barely even touching his cold soba as his chopsticks hung loosely from his hand. every time he remembered that he needed food, he'd pick up a portion of his meal, but then went right back to staring at you as his chopsticks completely missed his mouth.

uraraka shared giggles with tsu as iida, who hushed and scolded them, also secretly enjoyed watching the one-sided interaction.

"todoroki! you should pay attention when you're eating. otherwise, you might choke on your food!" iida would say, but was immediately interrupted by uraraka. "aw, c'mon, iida, the food isn't even making it to his mouth, he'll be fine." cue more hushed laughter.

even kaminari noticed. he'd just pulled up to homeroom, and to nobody's surprise, todoroki's eyes were glazed over as you spoke animatedly with him. the boy would respond with nods and words of encouragement every time you paused to take a breath, and kaminari almost couldn't believe his eyes.

between class, when you had gone to the restroom, kaminari strode up to todoroki's desk with a teasing grin on his face. "hey hey, todoroki!" he stopped in front of todoroki's desk. "i saw you earlier before class. man, you're absolutely smitten!"

todoroki blinked. "..smitten? i've.. have i been smited?" the poor boy looked down at his hands. "has my fate as the hand crusher finally caught up to me?"

clearly, he had watched the avengers movies way too many times with you.

kaminari visibly cringed. "no, man, i just meant- you know what, nevermind.." the blonde boy strode away with a dejected look, not knowing how he could possibly explain to todoroki what he had really meant.

despite his obviousness, both you and todoroki remained completely oblivious. he was so, so blatantly open about his feelings, so much so that even class 1b had to roll their eyes every time you two passed by their class window together. everyone watched with bated breath whenever you two interacted, waiting for the moment either of you idiots finally realized what was going on.

todoroki was standing next to mina and hagakure during training a week later. the boy was sulking to himself about how you weren't put in his training group for the day, which didn't go unnoticed by the two girls. mina raised a brow at him.

"todoroki, what's got you down in the dumps? are you sad because you weren't put in a group with your one and only?" she teased. todoroki nodded with a sullen expression. "yes, this is a very terrible outcome. i cannot--" he paused, a small frown creasing between his eyes. "one and only?" he turned to look at mina. "what exactly does that mean?"

hagakure gasped. "you seriously.. haven't noticed? you've been so obvious! the entire class knows that you're down bad for--" before todoroki could ask what 'down bad' meant, jirou passed them with a lazy smile.

"it means you're in love." she explained, walking by as mina nodded.

he didn't even need the girls to point out who they were talking about to know that it was you.

todoroki stood there, frozen in place. in love? was he really in love with you? sure, he liked to listen to you talk, he naturally sought you out in crowds, and he tried his hardest to revolve his schedule around yours. yeah, he did wake up extra early in the mornings to knock on your door and say good morning, he did always match pajama pants with you during class movie nights. and how could he forget the times that he made sure you were alright during training-- oh. oh.

todoroki shoto sure was down bad. he was smitten-- no. he was in love. with you.

the left side of his hair set itself on fire.

do not copy, translate, or repost my work.

masterlist ༊ requests//questions

xoxo, tao

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gimmethatagustd · 2 days ago

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take care of me | jhs

You’d never trade quiet, sleepless nights with your boyfriend for anything in the world, even when sometimes it feels like the world is falling apart around you.

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Genre/Trope: Established relationship, smut, fluff

Word Count: 3,066

Content Warning: Cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, handjob, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, vaginal sex

A/N: Repost in honor of Jay-Slut.

Soundtrack: Sabrina Claudio - Belong To You (ft. 6lack) [Remix]

Gentle. Always gentle. A long time ago, you used to hate being treated gently. The vulnerability that came with someone taking care of you, being soft with you, knowing every little detail about you enough to shape their world around you… it was hard. Scary. Gross, even. You wanted to be tougher than that because one day that gentleness would end and how would that leave you?

Empty.

That is, until you met him.

You felt Hoseok wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you snug against his chest so he could tuck his face into the crook of your neck. His warm breath tickled goosebumps across your shoulders and arms, but his grip kept you grounded. His hands pressed into your sides to hold you in place. Like a weighted blanket, you felt secure with him on his side behind you, the rise of his chest comforting as he breathed against your back.

His warmth and the pattern of his breathing was almost enough to lull you back to sleep. You couldn’t tell what time it was. The storm raging outside knocked the power out just before the two of you climbed into bed, but you assumed only an hour or so had passed.

“Hey,” Hoseok whispered in your ear. You let out a small ‘mmm’ in response and nestled backwards into his arms even more deeply. “Are you having trouble sleeping?”

You nodded, eyes still closed. A crack of lightning briefly lit up your dark bedroom with white light bright enough to penetrate your eyelids.

“Want me to make you some tea?”

Forcing your eyes open, you twisted around to face him. Hoseok’s hair was messy, wavy strands flopped in every direction. You reached up to brush his bangs away from his eyes. He’d been growing out his hair and you quite liked being able to ruffle the strands around, watching them fluff up and flop to the side. Especially the hair at the back of his neck that was now longer than you’d ever seen it. You liked the way it made him look rugged and slightly unkempt; the exact opposite of your responsible, well-organized Hobi.

At this point, you were just barely able to make out the details of his features in the dark. But you felt the way he leaned into you and you knew to meet him halfway so he could give you a light peck on the forehead. Gentle. Always gentle.

“No, it’s okay,” you insisted. You gave him a tap on the nose. “You’re too considerate sometimes.”

“Never.”

“Yes you are.”

“Only a little bit.”

“A lotta bit.”

A pout was his next rebuttal. You reached out to press your fingers against his lips as though you were trying to smooth them out. When you moved to pull away, Hoseok caught your hand and pressed it against his mouth again. He kissed your palm, then each fingertip. The softness of his touch sent shivers down your arm.

“It’s because I love you so much,” he murmured, his voice tired and thick.

Before you could respond, he cupped your face and pulled you towards him. His lips moved against yours softly, guiding you into a slow dance you’d only dance with him. A smooth hand ran down your side to stop at your hip, squeezing it lightly. Your fingers found Hoseok’s hair, tangling in the loose waves at the back of his head and tugging just enough to make him sigh against your mouth. You captured his bottom lip between your teeth when he slightly parted his lips, taking advantage of the opportunity to nibble and suck on it.

“You’re gonna start something,” Hoseok spoke gruffly when he pulled away. You tugged at his hair again and got the quietest of moans out of him. “I’m serious.”

Even if he hadn’t said anything, his growing erection pressed against your body said enough.

“Maybe I want to start something.”

The room stood still, shadows from the swaying tree branches outside the only movements. Eventually, Hoseok shifted, pressing his chest against yours with enough force to roll you onto your back. Wordlessly, he shifted beneath the blankets to hover above you. His forearms rested on either side of your head while you felt him spread your legs apart with his knee. Slotting himself between your thighs, he lazily rolled his hips into yours. You whimpered from the pressure and the heat radiating off of him. Soon you felt that heat on your neck as Hoseok sucked hickeys onto you, swirling his tongue against your skin. In the past, you thought making love was boring, that you needed to be treated roughly in order for sex to be fun. You were accustomed to being used. Sex with Hoseok, though? It was heated and weightless.

He left wet kisses along your throat while his hands gripped the hem of your t-shirt. Well, his t-shirt, an old baggy one he never wore anymore. He cradled the back of your head as he pulled it off, careful to rest you back onto your pillow.

“It’s so cold,” you whispered.

“Mhm.”

Hoseok pulled the blanket up, making himself disappear beneath it in the process. With him out of sight, you lifted up the blanket slightly to peek at him, only to drop it in favor of squeezing the bed sheets beneath you as you felt him drag your underwear down your legs. He grabbed the back of your thighs and pushed forward so your legs were lifted up, feet against his shoulders and pussy on display. The inability to see what he was doing under the blanket only heightened your desire and you felt your arousal drip down.

One hand pressed hot into your hip where your thigh creased from the angle Hoseok had your legs pushed up. The other slipped between your thighs.

“Hobiii,” you moaned, head slightly lifting off the bed when you felt his fingers swipe at your wetness gathering around your entrance.

He coated his fingertips before sliding his fingers upwards, parting your lips until he got to your clit and began circling it. You clenched, though the way he had you folded into yourself made it difficult for you to get any friction to provide relief. Instead he kept you raised and spread open, fingers slippery and sticky. It was easy for him to slip two fingers inside of you, even easier to hit that sweet spot on your front wall to have you lifting off the bed again. The way he pumped into you was sleepy and slow, but you hadn’t expected anything faster. Hoseok shouldn’t have even been doing this; you knew how exhausted he was. He should have been sleeping.

Instead, you felt him shift, his shoulders dropping down slightly. And then you felt the tip of his tongue flick against your clit.

“Fuck, babyy, oh fuck.” You immediately let go of the bed sheets and slipped your arms beneath the blanket, fingers digging into Hoseok’s hair.

“Mmhmm, uhh huhh,” Hoseok moaned into your pussy, his lips closing around your clit. He suckled it softly, applying such light pressure while his tongue licked at you that you felt like you were going to explode.

“More, baby,” you whined. “Faster.”

He shook his head, smearing his lips with your arousal, and you weren’t sure if that was an answer to your requests or just him enjoying his late night snack. Likely the former since he returned to gently sucking your clit and taking his sweet time pumping his fingers in and out of you.

“Please, Hobi.”

Begging usually got you what you wanted, especially when you used the breathy, high-pitched, pornographic whine that you knew drove him crazy. To add to your plea, you tugged a bit harder on his hair, dragging your fingers through his bangs to pull the strands out of his face.

Suddenly, his mouth left your pussy and your next whine was that of disappointment. When his tongue returned it was to lick along your lips, and he occasionally pressed kisses everywhere but your clit.

“It’s bedtime,” you heard him speak from the darkness. “I’m going slow to lull my baby to sleep, okay?” Then his lips were burning into you once again.

Your build up was gradual, a growing throb as your clit became even hotter and more swollen with every lap of Hoseok’s tongue and curl of his fingers. You squirmed and arched your back beneath him, cursing him for taking his time with you even when you both knew you loved it. The fact that your sheets were already soaked through was a testament to that. Who the fuck cared if you were tired and supposed to be sleeping? Every drag of Hoseok’s hot tongue across your clit, every drip of his saliva coating your pussy had him practically exorcizing your soul from your body.

But when Hoseok unexpectedly slipped a third finger inside of you and sucked your clit with a tiny bit more force, he finally got you unraveling in a flash of white light that you weren’t sure was you cumming or the lightning outside.

Your legs twitched uncontrollably where they’d flopped over Hoseok’s shoulders and down his back. Exhaustion made them heavy, and you struggled to move them while Hoseok wouldn’t let go of you. He’d removed his fingers from you and had both his hands on the backs of your thighs, keeping you spread open as he continued sucking your clit.

“Hobi, oh my god, please, I came already,” you whimpered, pulling his hair to get his attention. He moaned a response into your skin and began lapping against you, flicking your clit from side to side. Your body jerked forward, but Hoseok’s grip on your thighs kept you pushed down.

“Jung Hoseok.”

Rather than sound threatening, your voice cracked and Hoseok had the audacity to laugh.

Tears welled up in your eyes and your body jerked again when you felt his teeth gently graze the top of your clit. A guttural moan was torn from your throat as you came a second time, squeezing Hoseok’s hair so tightly you were sure you’d ripped a few strands out accidentally.

Finally, finally, Hoseok emerged from beneath the blanket. He crawled up to hover over you once again, chest heaving and arms caging you in.

“It was hard to breathe under there,” he laughed again.

You opened your mouth to speak but all you could do was whimper once again.

“What was that, baby?” Hoseok drawled. He dipped his head down to nip at your earlobe and your eyes fluttered.

“Felt good,” you finally found your voice.

“Better than tea?”

“Much better.”

Hoseok chuckled, sleepy eyes meeting yours through his bangs that fell forward, slightly obscuring his face. The storm outside wasn’t raging as loudly against the windows, but the occasional lightning bolt still lit up your bedroom, allowing you to see more flickers of his face. You brought your fingers to his throat, running them along his Adam’s apple until you reached the dip where his collarbones met, before venturing down his bare chest. When your fingers dragged down his abdomen, you felt Hoseok suck in his stomach and heard him hiss lightly.

“What about you?” you whispered. You reached the waistband of his briefs, but you didn’t move any lower. Still, you could feel Hoseok’s cock twitch against you.

“I’m okay, baby. Don’t worry about me. I want you to sleep.”

He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck for a moment before he began to pull away from you. There he was, being too considerate again. How many times had he insisted he didn’t need anything from you? You’d never met someone more selfless. It wasn’t fair.

You quickly slipped your hand into his underwear and squeezed his cock, rolling your palm around the tip where precum already started to drip out.

“Shit, babe…” Hoseok stayed nuzzled in the crook of your neck and bucked into your hand with languid thrusts. There wasn’t a desire to chase a high, but more so a desire to relish in the warmth of your hand, the firmness of your grip, the comforting smell of your body wash.

“Is it embarrassing,” he took a deep breath and pulled away from your neck to look you in the eyes as he thrusted again, “that I could cum right now, just from this?”

“Maybe a little bit.”

Your honesty and the giggle that followed brought a frown to Hoseok’s face. You had no intention of letting him cum in your hands. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you smoothed out his frown when you pulled him into a kiss. Your hands traveled the lean muscles of his back, reaching down to squeeze his ass.

“Feisty.” You felt him smirk against your lips. Hooking your fingers beneath the waistband of his underwear, you pulled the clothing down his thighs and waited for him to sit back to completely remove them.

“Come up here,” you ordered him, but Hoseok shook his head.

“I’m too tired to fuck your mouth. Let me put my energy into fucking you the right way.”

You felt a shiver down your spine and nodded silently as you spread your legs wider to accommodate him.

Hoseok ran his hands down your legs until he could reach around to the back of your thighs. Pushing them up, he folded you nearly in half as he had when he ate you out, keeping you slightly elevated and wide open for him. Since his hands were occupied, you reached between your bodies to guide him. Hoseok’s breath hitched when you lined his cock up with your entrance.

He sunk into you slowly, taking his time slipping inch by inch to allow you to adjust and to savor the high that came with that initial thrust. Your mind was still foggy from two orgasms and a lack of sleep, so you appreciated his thoughtfulness as he eased into you.

“Mmmm,” he sighed once he bottomed out and your bodies were flush against each other. Leaning forward slightly, Hoseok rested both of your legs on his shoulders.

“Yeah baby?” Your voice trembled as you watched him brush his lips along your calf, planting a soft kiss at your ankle. His hands fell to your waist to hold your hips down as he drew back. He pulled out of you as far as he could just to slowly ease into you once again. Each thrust was thoughtful, intentional. His strokes were slow, but long and deep.

“You know you leave me speechless,” Hoseok groaned, pushing a bit deeper in his next thrust. Your whimpers got louder when you felt him brush your cervix, his fingers pushing you hard into the bed.

Hoseok was definitely the biggest you’d ever been with, but even more importantly, he was the most fluid in his movements. He knew how to move his body with flexibility and grace, which for you was the most satisfying aspect of sleeping with him. You never had to put in work to get yourself off; every roll of Hoseok’s hips made his cock glide against your g-spot and his pelvis stimulate your clit. You weren’t an object for Hoseok to use to get off. No, Hoseok put your pleasure in the center of everything he did.

Although sometimes that wasn’t necessary. He brought his fingers to your clit, but you swatted him away.

“I’m tapped out,” you sighed. You really didn’t need him to try to make you cum three times. What was this, porn?? Two orgasms was plenty.

“Are you really?” he smiled, a hand creeping back towards your clit. You swatted at him again. “Alright, alright. I’ll cum without you like an asshole.”

“Stop being so dramatic.” You clenched your muscles around his cock and Hoseok let out a low moan. If he was ready to bust from a simple handjob, you were sure he was having to work hard to keep it together now that he was inside you.

“Do that again for me, baby,” he said in a shaky breath that confirmed your suspicions. Another moan rumbled from him when you did as you were told, tightening around him and pressing your thighs against his abdomen. “Fuck, fuck,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

You loved to watch Hoseok fall apart. The tip of his tongue poked out of his mouth when he bit down on the muscle as he was concentrating on each gentle snap of his hips against yours. His strong hands squeezed your waist to ground himself once his thrusts became a bit erratic. His messy hair fell into his eyes when he leaned his head slightly forward to watch your bodies collide.

“Hobi,” you moaned, reaching up to pull him into a kiss. “Cum for me, baby. You’ve been so good for me.”

“You,” he took a deep breath, “You are so fucking sexy.”

Your legs fell down to wrap around Hoseok’s waist as he leaned into your kiss. One hand stayed at your waist while another slid down to grip your thigh against his hip as Hoseok picked up his pace. His breathing came out ragged against your cheek, his lips sucking little kisses along your jaw until he was back to marking up your neck.

He squeezed you hard when he came, whimpering and moaning your name into your neck like the sweetest lullaby. When he slowly eased his body on top of yours you welcomed the pressure of his weight, even though it was difficult to breathe.

“Better than tea?”

Hoseok snorted, but you saw his eyes sparkle in the moonlight as he gently pulled out of you and found his spot beside you once again. “Much better.”

His long arms dragged you backwards so you were pressed against each other with chests still heaving.

“Thank you,” you said after a moment. You were beginning to crash from your orgasmic high. Darkness eased your eyelids lower and lower until you couldn’t bear to open them again.

“You know I’ll always take care of you.” Hoseok nuzzled your neck and squeezed you against his chest. “I hope you sleep well, baby.”

You murmured a “you, too” and fell asleep to the steady pattern of Hoseok’s breathing and the knowledge that there was no one else who could care for you the way he did.

@rkiveslibrary @mar-lo-pap @likecrazy22 @iadelicacy

#bts fanfic #hoseok fanfic #bts x reader #hoseok x reader #bts fluff #bts smut #hoseok smut #hoseok fluff #gimmethatagustd #take care of me

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izzih22 · 1 day ago

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can u do a fic about paige and azzi first falling in love with each other

Like This, All Along

They were fifteen and sixteen when it started to feel different.

Not in some sudden, movie-scene way no fireworks, no magical music cue. Just little things. Quiet shifts. Looks that lasted a second too long. Laughter that echoed louder when it came from each other.

It was subtle, at first. But unmistakable, if you knew what to look for.

And Azzi had always looked at Paige.

⸻

It was summer, one of those warm, golden evenings at a Team USA training camp. They were sprawled out on the grass behind the dorms, sweaty from pickup games and pretending they weren’t exhausted. Paige was lying on her back, one arm behind her head, the other lazily tossing a basketball in the air and catching it.

Azzi was sitting next to her, legs stretched out in front of her, hair pulled into a messy bun. She looked down at Paige, trying not to smile. Failing completely.

“You’re gonna hit yourself in the face,” Azzi warned, voice dry.

Paige grinned. “Nah. I’ve got elite hand-eye coordination.”

“Is that what we’re calling it now?”

Paige tossed the ball again. It slipped through her fingers and bounced off her forehead.

Azzi laughed so hard she had to lean forward, burying her face in her hands. “Oh my God—”

“I meant to do that,” Paige mumbled, wincing.

Azzi flopped onto the grass beside her, still giggling.

The sky above them was streaked with orange and lavender, like someone had smudged the sun with a soft brush. Fireflies were starting to blink in the distance. Everything felt simple and infinite, like the kind of moment you don’t know is important until it’s already passed.

Azzi turned her head, resting her cheek against her arm. Paige was already looking at her.

Their eyes met, and something in the air shifted. It wasn’t playful anymore. It was quiet, charged.

Paige didn’t look away.

Azzi swallowed. “What?”

Paige shrugged. “You’ve got grass in your hair.”

Azzi smiled, but her heart was pounding. “You’re not helping.”

Paige reached out and gently plucked a blade of grass from Azzi’s curls. Her fingers lingered barely touching, but enough to make Azzi’s breath catch.

She didn’t know how to explain it, but it felt like Paige touched her differently than anyone else ever had. Like she knew her. Not just the version the world saw the poised, polished, almost-perfect Azzi Fudd but the quiet, nervous girl who sometimes doubted herself. Who just wanted to be seen.

Paige saw her.

And more than that… Paige wanted to see her.

“I like you,” Azzi said suddenly.

It slipped out before she could stop it.

Paige blinked. “Yeah. I like you too.”

Azzi’s chest tightened. “No, I mean—I like you. More than a teammate. More than a best friend.”

Silence.

Paige sat up slowly, expression unreadable.

Azzi rushed to fix it. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same, I just—”

But Paige reached for her hand.

And then, quietly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, Paige said, “Az… I think I’ve been in love with you since last year. I just didn’t know what it was until now.”

Azzi stared at her.

“You love me?”

Paige gave a nervous, crooked smile. “Yeah. A stupid amount.”

Azzi didn’t say anything at first. She just leaned forward, heart racing, and pressed her forehead against Paige’s.

“I’ve been in love with you too,” she whispered. “I think I just needed to hear you say it first.”

Paige let out a soft laugh, breath warm against her skin. “We’re so bad at this.”

Azzi smiled, eyes fluttering shut. “We’ll figure it out.”

And they did.

Not overnight. Not without fear or mistakes or moments where the world tried to pull them in different directions.

But they always found their way back to each other.

Because love didn’t start with fireworks. It started with grass in someone’s hair. A missed basketball catch. A look that lingered just a second too long.

And a feeling they’d had all along, even before they knew what to call it.

#pazzi fics #paige x azzi #pazzi #paige and azzi #paige bueckers #uconn wbb #azzi fudd

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moonstruckme · 1 day ago

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Hi Mae! Welcome back, hope you had a great, well deserved break while requests were off 🫶 but I was wondering if I could request tasm!peter x fem or gn reader (whichever you’d like!), that’s kinda specific kinda not..

but maybe a fic where reader accidentally hurts themselves, not seriously but like, enough to bleed just a bit, but they do not enjoy the sight of blood at all, so Peter has to help them with the actual injury, whatever it is, but also them feeling lightheaded/dizzy or faint from the blood itself ?? but it’s overall a fluffy and sweet scene

Hope that isn’t too specific, thank youuu <3

-🪻

Thanks angel!

cw: blood mention, joking reference to war

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 574 words

You suck air in through your teeth. “Ow.”

Your face tips toward the source of the hurt on instinct, but Peter’s nose bumps your chin gently, reminding you to keep it up. “Don’t look,” he says.

“Are you almost done? It stings.”

“That’s what happens when you try to make cats be friends, baby.” You can see Peter’s smirk in your periphery. At your pointed silence, he softens his tone. “Yeah, I’m almost done. Hang in there.”

You sigh. “I really thought they’d get along. Yzma gets so lonely.”

You were sitting by the window with your cat, Yzma, when the neighbor’s tabby decided to hop across to your fire escape for a visit. Usually, he’s well received; you’ll stick your hand out the window to feed him a few treats while Yzma sits on the floor halfway across the room looking suspicious but intrigued. You’d thought the intrigue would win out, but when Yzma had seen him so close today—not seeming to realize there was still a window between them—she’d chosen fight and then flight, batting at the glass a few times before tearing off. And, of course, tearing up your lap in the process. Peter had followed the sounds of her panicked spitting to find you with thin scratches welling blood on your thighs and already beginning to slump in your chair from the sight of them.

Yzma was put in time-out. You do plan to make a case for her, as soon as you can see straight.

“She gets lonely for you,” Peter laughs. He squeezes your knee, the cool surface of your kitchen counter chilling the underside. “She’s got it made here, and she knows it. She doesn’t want some tomcat coming around to hog your attention.”

“She only misses me because I’m the one who gives her treats.”

“Bingo.”

Peter laughs again when you tip your head down just enough to glare. He squeezes your knee again, ducking closer to kiss beneath your jaw, over the fluttering beat of your pulse. You hear the crackly ripping sound of adhesive being peeled from bandages.

“You’re gonna look like you just came back from war.”

“It feels like it.”

“I’m gonna tell my great uncle Dave you said that. He was in World War II.”

“Ask him if there are any support meetings I could go to, please?”

Peter’s smile winds up tucked into your shoulder. You tilt your cheek into his hair, the sticky-uppy ends tickling your skin.

“Too far,” you murmur. “Sorry.”

Peter hums like he maybe agrees but he’s amused nonetheless. His thumb runs over the edge of a bandage, flattening it. “You’re all done.”

You breathe out. “Thanks.”

“Feeling any better?” He cups your face, straightening to look you in the eyes. “Still kind of floaty?”

You give a small shrug and a smile. “A little. Not as much.”

Peter’s thumb strokes down your cheek sympathetically. “You wanna stay here for a while?” he asks, cooing a little.

Your smile grows. “Maybe. What will we do?”

“I mean, distraction helps, right?”

You hum, leaning down so you meet Peter in the middle. The tips of your noses brush. “Yeah. It does.”

Peter tips his head up to catch the corner of your lips with his mouth. “You can’t pass out while I’m kissing you, you know. I’ll never live it down.”

You close your eyes, settling in. “Just take it as a compliment if I do, m’kay?”

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jiuwaves · 2 days ago

Text

Paper Spine, Velvet Hands

pairing: choi seunghyun x reader warnings: mdni. contains smut note: something i wrote up after watching bibi's new mv a hundred times :>> You’ve always returned to this one small library after college classes to “ease” your mind—or maybe you just liked seeing the older guy behind the counter.

Tucked behind the bookshelves of the poetry and art section, you sat quietly with a few books scattered across the floor. Your back rested against the shelf, legs folded beneath you as you flipped through the fourth book of the day.

It was quiet—peaceful, even. The kind of stillness that only settled after the sun had gone down. Everyone else had already left the library hours ago.

Everyone except you.

And Seunghyun—the so-called pretty guy behind the counter.

Minutes, hours passed, but you didn’t feel a thing. Not even the shift in the air. Not even the soft, steady footsteps approaching you now.

Seunghyun stood at the edge of the aisle now, one hand lightly resting against the shelf above your head. His hair fell a little into his eyes, glasses pushed up just enough to reflect the dim library lights.

“I’m about to close up,” he said softly, not quite breaking the stillness.

You blinked slowly, grounding yourself back into the moment. “Right,” you murmured, thumb still tucked between the pages of your book. “Sorry—I lost track of time.”

He didn’t respond right away. His eyes dropped to your lap, where the open book rested. A slim volume of poetry—one of the older ones from the upper shelf. Well-loved. The kind with thin, yellowed pages and soft corners.

Then, a pause.

He leaned in slightly, squinting through his glasses.

“Interesting book you’ve got there,” he murmured, his voice carrying that familiar low timbre, touched with something teasing.

He leaned a little closer, enough that you could feel the warmth of his body beside yours. One hand braced on the shelf just above your shoulder, the other lightly brushing the floor as he crouched. His eyes scanned the open pages resting in your lap.

It was quiet—too quiet.

You shifted subtly, trying to angle the book away, but he was already reading the title on the spine, the passage you’d stopped on, the kind of prose that left little to interpretation. Sensual. Intimate. The kind of book you hadn’t meant for anyone else to catch you reading.

His eyes flicked up.

Not to the book.

To you.

“You like this kind of writing?” he asked softly, his tone low but not mocking. Just… curious. Curious and a little too calm.

Your fingers curled around the edge of the cover. “I—I… no?” you mumbled, barely above a whisper.

It sounded weak even to your own ears.

But Seunghyun didn’t laugh. He didn’t tease.

Instead, he stayed there, crouched beside you in that tight little space between bookshelves and breath, his gaze lingering on your face far longer than it should have.

“No?” he echoed, his voice quiet—soft enough to make your skin prickle. “You read almost half of the book.”

You looked down, only now realizing how far in you’d gotten. How closely you’d been reading, completely absorbed and unaware of the time, of the darkened windows, of him.

Your mouth opened, but no explanation came out.

He tilted his head slightly, as if taking you in. His eyes flicked to the curve of your wrist, the grip you had on the book’s spine—white-knuckled and nervous—and then back to your face.

“It’s not shameful, you know,” he said after a pause, tone impossibly gentle. “To like something… personal.”

The air felt heavier with the kind of silence that buzzed between people who knew they were standing on the edge of something they could fall into.

“I’ve seen you,” he murmured. “Every time you’re back here. Tucked into this corner, pretending you’re just here for the books.”

“I am—” you said too fast.

His lips curled faintly.

“You’re a good liar” he said, almost like a compliment. “But you look at me like the books aren’t enough anymore.”

You felt your breath stall—just for a second.

“You look at me,” he said again, softer this time. “Like I’m one of those pages you want to dog-ear.”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. He leaned in then—closer, slow, heat in every breath.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked.

You didn’t answer—not because you didn’t want him to continue, but because the closeness made your heart flutter too violently, like any sound might make it break open. You only clutched tighter at the book in your lap, fingers curling around its edges as if it could steady you.

“Use your words, sweetheart,” he whispered, his voice brushing your ear like silk. His breath was warm, too close, and the scent of his cologne—something woody and clean—blurred your thoughts further.

“I—You—” you stuttered out, your voice trembling as badly as your legs.

Your eyes squeezed shut, trying to gather yourself, but all you could feel was the warmth of him still pressed between your thighs, the ghost of his mouth on your skin, the dizzying way your name had sounded on his tongue.

“It’s Seunghyun.”

The way he said it—low, soft, just for you—made your breath hitch.

You looked up at him, startled. His face was close now, closer than before. He was bent slightly at the waist, hands braced on the shelf above your head, caging you in with his body, eyes dark and unreadable behind his glasses.

“I want you to say it,” he murmured.

Your lips parted, but nothing came out. You felt it—his knee sliding between your thighs, gently nudging them apart again. Not forcing. Just offering.

You whispered, almost inaudible, “Seunghyun… please.”

And that was all it took.

He exhaled once, shallow and sharp, like he’d been holding his breath since the moment you walked in that evening. He moved—swift but gentle—hooking his hands under your arms and pulling you up, into his lap. You landed with a soft gasp, your thighs bracketing his, your skirt rucked up around your hips. His back leaned into the shelf, yours flush against his chest. The book you’d been clutching slipped from your hand and fell with a soft thud to the floor.

His arms circled you, broad palms skimming down your sides with his lips brushing the side of your neck, feather-light, and he murmured, “I’ve watched you read here like this a hundred times… but never like this.”

Your breathing faltered.

“You always sit so quietly in this corner,” he whispered, pressing a kiss just beneath your jaw. “Crossed legs, fingers curled around your book like it’s something sacred.”

His hand splayed across your stomach, holding you still while the other dipped between your legs, brushing over the heat of your panties — soft and damp. You flinched in his lap, your fingers tightening over your knees.

“But it’s not the books you get flustered over,” he murmured against your skin. “It’s me, isn’t it?”

You didn’t speak. You couldn’t.

His nose nuzzled along your neck, and then his tongue flicked out—warm and slow—followed by a gentle suck that made your thighs tense around him.

“You press those pretty legs together when I walk past,” he went on, voice low and rough in your ear. “Like I wouldn’t notice.”

His fingers curled against the wet cotton of your underwear, pressing the fabric into your folds making a soft, involuntary sound escaped you. Your hips shifted forward—instinctively chasing more.

But he didn’t give it. Not yet.

“Patience, sweetheart,” he whispered, circling your clit through the fabric. “We’re in a library.”

As if you could focus on anything outside the heat pooling in your core.

His hand moved slowly—palm broad, fingers skilled. He dragged the damp fabric to the side, exposing you completely to the cool air and the warmth of his touch.

“You’re already soaked,” he said, more to himself than to you. “And I haven’t even kissed you properly.”

Two fingers slid through your folds—barely parting you. Not inside. Just teasing. Your head tipped back against his shoulder with a breathless moan.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his lips grazing your temple. “Let me hear you.”

He pushed a finger in—just one—slow and deep, curling slightly as your body clenched around the intrusion. “Fuck,” he growled softly, his hand tightening on your waist. “You feel so good like this.”

His thumb began to circle your clit in slow, precise strokes—no rush, just enough to make your hips start to roll against his hand. The arm around your waist tightened, keeping you locked in place, unable to squirm away from the slow build.

“You’ve been walking in here every evening like some quiet little secret,” he whispered, his lips dragging along your ear. “But look at you now. In my lap. Letting me open you up like this.”

He added a second finger, slower this time. The stretch made your legs tremble.

“You always get this wet when I talk to you?” he murmured, and you whimpered as his fingers thrust deeper, rubbing right against that spot inside that made your eyes squeeze shut.

“I knew you were shy,” he said, voice so soft it felt sinful. “Didn’t know you were this needy.”

Your hand flew to his wrist, not to stop him—to steady yourself. He kept moving inside you, fingers curling and pressing while his thumb continued its gentle rhythm over your clit.

His lips pressed back to your neck. “Should I keep going?” he whispered. “Want to come like this? Quietly in my lap?”

You nodded helplessly, your breath catching with every slow thrust.

“I need to hear you say it,” he murmured, kissing just behind your ear. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Yes, Seunghy—”

But you never finished his name.

Because his fingers curled just right inside you, drawing a helpless, broken sound from your throat—something between a gasp and a whimper—your legs trembling around his. Behind you, Seunghyun exhaled softly through his nose, the corner of his mouth lifting against your neck.

“Sensitive..” he murmured, dragging his fingers out slow, then pressing them back in just as deep. “I like that.”

Your back arched, and he held you firmly against his chest with his other arm, anchoring you while he kept working you open with those long, skilled fingers. His lips skimmed your neck again, then your jaw.

“You always get like this when I’m close?” he asked softly, voice a low hum in your ear. “Or is this just for me?”

You couldn’t speak. Could barely breathe. The way his fingers curled up into you— deliberate, patient—made your belly coil tighter and tighter, your mouth falling open as your head tipped back onto his shoulder.

His thumb found your clit then, circling slow and steady.

“Don’t hide it,” he whispered, his hand tightening around your waist. “Let me feel you fall apart.”

And you did.

Your body clenched hard around his fingers, thighs shaking, mouth parting in a silent cry as you came in his lap, legs spread open, back arched against him, the wave crashing through you so fast it left your head spinning.

He held you, letting you tremble, twitch, shake—all while his mouth stayed close to your ear, whispering things you could barely process.

“That’s it..” he murmured. “Just like that.” he said slipping his fingers out, leaving you shivering at the loss, blinking in the dim library light, heart still racing, limbs boneless.

He stood up, making you slump forward, dizzy, still sitting in the middle of the poetry aisle, skirt pushed up, panties askew. You felt empty. Ruined. And he just smirked down at you like you were nothing more than another favorite book on his shelf.

“I’m closing up now,” he said as he adjusted his glasses, cool and composed like he hadn’t just fingered you senseless.

His gaze lingered for a second longer—unreadable, dark.

“You should get up before someone finds you like that.”

Then he turned, walking away.

The staff door creaked open behind him, then shut. And you were left in silence—flushed, breathless, and dripping between your thighs.

#bigbang x reader #t.o.p #t.o.p x reader #choi seunghyun x reader #choi seunghyun

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sturnboos · 2 days ago

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[❤️‍🩹] Stay With Me

Summary: your overwhelmed and heart heavy, matt reminds you that you don’t have to hold it all together alone. angst/comfort

Warnings: emotional distress, brief mention of not eating, depression implied.

Your knock on Matt’s door was soft. Almost hesitant. But he heard it. It was late and he hadn’t been expecting anyone. So you ended up at Matt’s. He opened the door to find you bundled in an oversized hoodie, sleeves pulled over your hands, eyes puffy from holding back tears.

“Hey,” he said softly, stepping aside without a single question. You barely managed a nod before slipping into his room, flopping down face first on his bed with a dramatic groan. Matt followed you in quietly, He sat down beside you, gently running his hand up and down your back. “Want to tell me what happened?”

“No,” you mumbled into the pillow.

“Okay.” He rubbed your back in a comforting manner. “Wanna just hang here with me for a while?”

You nodded sniffling, your voice a whisper. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

Matt looked over at you, eyes soft. “You don’t have to explain. I’m glad you came.”

You turned toward him, your face twisting like you might cry again, and without another word, you reached for him. He pulled you in right away with no hesitation. Your arms wrapped tightly around him your forehead buried against his chest, and your fingers gripped the back of his hoodie like he might disappear if you let go.Matt’s arms curled around you just as tightly.

“You can stay here as long as you need.” he whispered. His chin rested gently on your head.You stayed like that for a long time. Wrapped up in each other, breathing slow and quiet. The world outside could keep spinning. It didn’t matter here. Eventually, he leaned back just enough to look at you. “You eaten anything today?”

You hesitated, then shook your head.

Matt gave a small nod and stood up, only to return a minute later with an armful of snacks. chips, candy, even a warm bag of microwave popcorn. You blinked at him, eyes glassy again.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you said.

“I want to take care of you,” he replied simply, offering a little smile. “Let me?”

You reached out and took the popcorn from his hand, mumbling a quiet, “Okay.”

He set up his laptop on the nightstand, pulling up Netflix, and flopped back onto the bed beside you. “Alright, comfort movie time.” you hummed in response already curling into his side. “Need something nostalgic” Matt smiled. “Got it.”

You settled into him, legs tangled under the blanket, one of your hands resting on his chest like you needed to feel his heartbeat just to calm your own. As the movie started, he kept a steady hand tracing soft patterns on your back. Every so often, he’d sneak you a gummy or a chip, holding it up to your mouth like you were too precious to feed yourself.

You didn’t fight it. Didn’t joke or tease like you usually would. You needed this and he knew it.

At some point, you whispered, “I feel really wierd like- like a clingy toddler.”

Matt looked down at you, brushing a bit of hair from your forehead. “So be clingy. You think I care?”

You looked up at him, cheeks flushed. “You don’t mind?”

He leaned down and kissed the top of your head, letting his lips linger there. “Not even a little. You can cling to me all you want I know you need someone right now so I’m not going anywhere.”

Something in your chest let go, just a little.The rest of the night passed in that soft haze wrapped in his arms, surrounded by the movies script and the faint rustle of snack wrappers, cocooned in the safety of Matt. You didn’t talk much. You didn’t need to. Matt held you close through the end of the movie, through the credits, even after you’d gone quiet and still.

“I don’t want to go home tonight,” you said sleepily.

“Then don’t,” he murmured. “Stay with me. Stay as long as you need.” so you did. Wrapped in the warmth of him, with your heart still healing and your soul still sore but finally, finally resting.

TAGS: @blushsturns @riasturns @iloveduckssm @chrissbxby @sturnobessed @kayskreativeideas @tits4matt @mattsfavho @sturniolobananas1 @courta13 @alexisa78 @chrisissos3xy @sturnobessed @mattschelseaa @norahsturns @dolliraez @jibitzlesscrocs @oopsiedaisydeer @gemzyy @mattschelseaa @hesvoid34 @phone4pills @spaghettislut1 @sturnslux3 @phone4pills @owenstar @luvsturns @nickssidewitch @ariieeesworld @babyt0matoes @sugarraez

#sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #age regression #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo

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spookysanta · 2 days ago

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Chapter 5: Permission to Ruin Me.

Ongoing tags: [Modern Romance] [Slow Burn] to [Fireworks [Black!Reader] [Younger!Reader] [Reader is That Girl] [Obsessed Michael™] [So Much Eye Contact] [Vacation Fling] turns into [Something Real]

Potential TW/CW: [Swearing] [Light Sexual Tension] to [Eventual Smut]

Read Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4.

and now.. it is time. everybody make sure you got fresh draws on. all my heathens and sluts come to the front! chapter 6 is also done so i might - MIGHT - publish again tomorrow. tryna keep y'all waiting bc.. i love validationnnnn. anyway! enjoy my babies. don't forget to send me some asks, gonna be drafting some requests this week ;)

The next morning, there was a knock. The knock came just after breakfast – almost jarring, the sharpness of a fist against polished wood.

Before, you were still in the oversized tee you’d slept in, lazily brushing your teeth and half-scrolling your messages when the suite phone rang.

You heard Tati answer the phone from the common room. “Room 904.”

A pause.

“Okay, thanks. I’ll let her know.”

You’d heard her hang up the phone, and before you could come out of the bathroom, she met you in the hallway.

“Just got off the phone with the concierge,” she said, not even bothering to greet you with a “good morning”, nor hide her suspicious smile. “There’s something coming for you.”

When the knock came, you met the bellhop at the door.

He handed you a white matte box, tied in black ribbon. It was minimal, with no branding. Just your name, handwritten, and a note tucked beneath the bow. The moment you closed the door, and meandered to the couch, the girls surrounded you like sharks in the water.

“Open it,” Lex said, already filming on her phone.

“What is it? What is it??” nagged Tati.

“He did not…”

“OH, he did.”

Inside the box were a stack of things that almost made the air leave your chest: a glass perfume bottle, a soft floral fragrance with a heat-heavy dry-down; a pair of gold hoop earrings – lightweight, diamond-cut, a gleam that caught the light like water; and nestled in satin paper, a handwritten note:

I want to take you out again. If the answer’s yes – wear the earrings. I’ll know. I want to listen to you. And if you’ll let me… I want to touch you. — M

You sat back against the couch’s cushion, your heart pounding in your ears.

Tati read it over your shoulder, shaking you with excitement. “Yes! Baby girl, he’s ready to worship. Get your mind right.”

–

You carefully pulled out your gifts to show to the girls. You felt like you were in school and it was your turn to do Show and Tell, and by the way your friends gasped in excitement, passing around the perfume to smell, this was a presentation for the ages. And of course, Tati made you read the note out loud.

“You have to say yes,” Kris said immediately.

“I mean,” Nas added, “look at you right now. You’re already glowing and he hasn’t even seen you today.”

Lex spun her phone around. “Say the word and I’m curling your hair.”

Tati whispered, “If you don’t wear those earrings and get dicked down respectfully tonight, I will personally seduce him. I don’t even care that I’m married – that’s how serious I am.”

You tried to fight back a smile, failing miserably. But your voice was quiet. “I don’t think this is just a fling for him.”

They all went still.

“You really like him?” Nas asked gently.

You nodded once. “I.. I do. I really feel him.”

And suddenly, they weren’t screaming anymore. You could feel their gazes soften.

Tati took your hand and kissed the back of your palm, in the way that only she has since you were eight-years-old. “Then we got you.”

After a group pep talk, coupled with Kris reminding you to take your birth control – you did – and Nas calling her partner to fill her in on the drama, you got ready for another night out with Michael. Lex made good on her promise, styling your hair with a hairdresser’s precision, loose curls framing your collar.

Tati picked your outfit – a copper-toned backless satin dress with gold lace-up stilettos to match the earrings that you were definitely wearing tonight. The dress had a draped collar, fabric ruched perfectly to show off your chocolate legs, and was completely backless. Tati dressed you with the intention of providing Michael with an “appetizer” of what was to come later.

Once you were fully dressed, you admired yourself in the mirror. And as much as you thought you were nervous about tonight, you found yourself buzzing all over with excitement. Though you’d only seen him a couple days ago, your hands were itching to be held. Your lips were begging to be kissed.

He met you in the lobby, grinning like a schoolboy when you approached him. Pressing a kiss to your cheek, he whispered “you wore them” in your ear like a vow. If nothing else didn’t lit a fire in your belly, that was the thing that did it. He ushered you in front of him, a hand resting gently on your lower back as he guided you out front where a sleek, blacked out Cadillac Escalade was waiting.

The ride wasn’t long, but it felt like time slowed down when you pulled out of the lot. He filled you in on the last couple days of work, some new projects he’s planning, and most importantly, how excited he was to see you.

The dinner spot was tucked down an alley. There was no signage – it was just a steel door and a man who nodded when Michael approached. The space had one table, one server, and a private chef’s tasting menu.

The restaurant – if you could even call it that, you weren’t sure – was super intimate. The lights were dim and there was an R&B playlist that buzzed softly through the speakers that accentuated the way his voice shifted when he got comfortable.

As you dined together, he didn’t work overtime to impress. Instead, he asked what made you laugh. How you learned to protect your joy. When the last time was that someone gave you the kind of attention that didn’t ask for anything back.

And honestly, you weren’t even sure how long the two of you sat there, but you were sure you didn’t want to leave.

–

As you pulled into the hotel’s carousel, he leaned over to peck your jaw, mumbling against your skin, “I already asked,”

You blinked. “What?”

He smiled sneakily, showing you his phone.

You laughed sheepishly. “My friends are crazy.”

He nodded in agreement, with a chuckle, opening the door and helping you out of the truck. “I’ve gathered that.”

Upstairs, the suite was quiet. It seemed the others were suspiciously gone – or hiding. And, knowing your friends, they’re more likely to be doing the latter.

You guided him through your suite and to your room. You entered first, eyes set on his, the room lit low and soft with your perfume lingering in the air.

He began to follow you in, but stopped at the doorway. “You sure about this?”

You nodded quickly, probably having made the easiest decision of the whole trip thus far. “I want you to touch me.”

And without hesitation, you pulled your dress up over your head teasingly, tossing it elsewhere in the room. There, you stood before him, braless, thin black lace panties riding low on your hips, the middle soft and sheer.

His jaw clenched, eyes scanning your frame. He shut the door and locked it with a swift motion, eyes not leaving your body. “Jesus,” he muttered, stepping forward.

You turned your back to him and climbed slowly onto the bed, looking over your shoulder, eyes beckoning him to you.

He didn’t hesitate to move forward. He approached the edge of the bed, previous softness and gentle care completely leaving the room as he ripped your panties down, dropping to his knees and pulling your lower half closer to him so your ass hung over the edge of the bed.

Then he spit right on your pussy. And as if he already knew how to work your body, he dragged his tongue through your slick before you could even register what he’d done. He ate you from behind in a way that you could’ve only dreamed of. His mouth was wet with a warmth that reached parts of your core that no one had ever tried to. He planted full-mouth kisses against your clit – slow at first, then focused, sucking your nub into his mouth and licking the mess back up with reverence, groaning at your taste.

He dragged two fingers through your wetness, “That for me?” he asked, clearly having known he’d gotten you in his clutches. “All this?”

You nodded, dazed, your “Mhm” sounding more like a moan than an actual response.

He hummed simply, gripping the back of your thighs and spreading you open, fully devouring you. It was sloppy and messy in the absolute best way, with lips sucking at full force and flicks of his tongue that made you clench the pillow under your chest like it owed you money.

You came without warning, fast and loud, your moans and his slurps being the only sounds in the room. He moaned gruffly against your clit, letting you ride out your orgasm on his face, already eager to make you cum again.

“You’re shaking,” he said, using his thumbs to spread your hole open more, warm breath against your cunt. “You want more?”

You whimpered.

“Then beg.”

“I want it,” you whined out. “Yes, Michael – I want it, I need it, please.”

He stood, stripping down to nothing, pulling the condom out of his wallet’s fold. He ripped the wrapper open with his teeth, smirking when he saw your pussy clench at the sound. “I got you.”

He lined himself up behind you, dragged his mushroom head through your soaked folds – and thrusted in, filling you to the hilt in one stroke. And though you tried to fight it, a moan escaped your throat at the stretch, a sound that easily echoed through the walls of the room.

And outside the door, there was, in fact, an audience. But a silent audience – one that did their screaming in your group chat.

It was downright nasty the way he fucked you. Aggravatingly slow and mean – he was gripping your waist, slapping your ass, rubbing pressured circles along your clit with his thumb, all while he whispered filth into your neck. “This pussy is mine now. All mine. You understand me?” he grunted, chest to your back.

“Mhmm,” was all you could let out in between moans and gasps.

“Nuh-uh.” he replied, smacking your asscheek again, “Say it.”

“Yours,” you gasped, “Oh fuck, Michael, I–I’m yours!”

He used his free hand to brush your curls behind your back, enwrapping it into a makeshift ponytail, and pulling your head back to look at him as he towered over you. “Open.”

And of course, you obliged, mouth agape. And as if he couldn’t fuck you filthier, he spat in your mouth. And because he was fucking you absolutely stupid, you swallowed, opening your mouth again eagerly in hopes for more of him.

He leaned over instead, kissing you sloppily while your arms lost strength from yet another orgasm. But just when you thought it was over, he flipped you onto your back, throwing your legs over his shoulders, and fucked you deep, whispering “eyes on me, baby” when your eyes rolled back.

Kissing your swollen lips, his tongue burying into your mouth. He pressed his forehead to yours as you came again, this time, him following being you, your walls clenching around him like you were crying for it. He let out a groan from deep in his chest at the tightness, muttering, “Goddamn, you’re perfect,” as he spilled into the condom.

He eased out of you, peeling the soiled condom off and tying it closed, setting it hastily on the floor next to the bed. He pulled you into his arms, your bodies still twitching slightly from the aftershocks. And when you finally passed out, still damp with sweat and thighs covered in your slick, he kissed your temple tenderly. “Mine,” he murmured. “All mine.”

And you laid like that for a while. At least, until he heard your quiet snores against his chest. He gently slid out of bed, tucking you snugly under the covers. Then, he pulled on his boxers, throwing away the trash in the bin across the room.

When he opened the door, still scantily clad in his grey boxers, sweat still cooling on his skin, the girls were there.

All of them. Stunned. Eyes the size of saucers.

He blinked.

Then, without missing a beat, he nodded. “Evening.” Before sliding past them like he hadn’t just turned your body into gospel, strutting to the suite’s bathroom in search of a cloth to clean you up.

Tags: @blackisy2k @hamzahsf4vg1rl @siasoup @heyyimmisunderstood @mirathebookworm @iluvv.angel @blondfortheweekend @Plan3tCh1ld @remcycles @browngirldominion @smokestackenrgy @marvel-dork98 @chaneajoyyy @jackierose902109 @Secretisme4 @marley1773 @wrldfantasy @remcycles @bxrbie1 @pinkprincessluminary @honestlyurslol @bxrbie1 @uhhh-nunyabidniz-heaux @nybearsworld @eclecticblkgirl @corvusmorte @yallsuck-00 @glambyk @Siqeth @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @xoxo-lai @perfectlyimperfectme @Mea-bby @kianaleani @prettiest1ittleliar @Mejustme06 @kpop-servant @kneelarhmstrung @rossie-things @thatssonani @esachicaa @ajenae @adornn4jadaa @Kindofaintrovert @bigpumpum18 @famousphilosopherwombat @Transparentphantomface @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @theesmartblonde @-harmonytbh @jiminsjams123 @li-da-savage @Fckwritersblock @christinabae @Tianna-blanche @queenofklonnie22 @marley1773 @Secret89sblog @secretisme4 @nybearsworld @jackierose902109 @spideyxakmighty2 @rossie-things @Sharpaysbestfriend @chrome-edition @Mulanii9 @blackgurlkillinit @soniaangels @pinkprincessluminary @bxunyx @venusesworld @flipsidefever @dangerouslylunarwind @writingsbytee @sheabutterbabes @c-grace56 @turbulentvoids @Stankface @mimellowdi @vintigepimpzinio @bedstarz @thesmutconnoisseur @iceyyycapsicle @theesexyyaquariuss @lovey-3 @sowhatariyana @ariiaellbtheedonn @melinatedlifeline @Nyifly22 @Jayyybird221 @pinkpantheris @naenae479 @Keaenzie @melinatedlifeline @Smokestackenergy @tyneshaaa @fanfictiononly4 @Jayyybird211 @melinatedlifeline @Stankface @beedici @Chynah—doll @Hollyleelee99 @prettygirlwrld @bbykel @secretisme4 @Yeaiamme2 @kristings7 @solitudedanii @singularepiphany @motheroffae @smokestackenergy @christinabae @chuwooooo @aretasreads @5starsirl @drdimplesjdrdimplesj @thesweetestdrug @Nysrevenge @keyaho @coldeforprez @Dollyblush222 @Suzysface @zomqiez @erynnnn @kxndrixx @nia-lynn08 @Monstaxmomma0 @bl3ssyn @writingsbytee @TriniBadGyal @Thefutureemmywinner @spicypiscesssss @kqmbr1a @Simpingfor-wakasa @Vi4goswrld

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shintaru · 3 days ago

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Period comfort with Hyuk Kwon

m.list ♡ taglist ♡ inspired by

Synopsis ~ Hyuk taking care of reader on her period

Tagging ~ @ravenwritten @dzvelinaskebiyars @sylith @sanzuslutttt @zyart-jpg @wthphe1n @prepchii @bfwooin @hyukwwn @kuchisabishiiiii

You’re currently cuddling with your boyfriend taking a nap until your stomach starts to feel like it’s being shredded from the inside out. You try ignoring it thinking that maybe you just ate something bad and have an upset stomach until Hyuk wakes you. “You’re bleeding all over my sheets” he says. You wake up rubbing your eyes. You didn’t fully hear what he said. “Huh why'd you wake me up” you ask yawning.

“This is no time to be yawning, it looks like I murdered someone on my bed” he says. Still not putting two and two together you look at him confused. “You’re bleeding on my blankets” he says again. Finally it clicks and your eye’s immediately grow three times their normal size. “Oh I’m sorry” you say rushing to get up. “I’ll clean it” you say. “No, I'll clean it, do you need anything? You didn’t bring a bag with you when you came over last night so I’m assuming you don’t have anything to take care of that” he replies.

“No I didn’t bring any of my menstrual products” you reply. “I’ll wash these sheets & but you some products go shower and you can wear something from my closet when you get out” he says. You smile happily that he’s being so considerate but still slightly embarrassed you woke up bleeding on his bed. “I get x brand pads/tampons” you say. “Ok I’ll get those” he says. You relax in the shower until you’re all cleaned up. You get dressed in Hyuk’s closet making an unfortunate makeshift pad out of toilet paper.

You honestly could cry, using toilet paper is the worst, almost worse than waking up on your period and your boyfriend saying it looked like a crime scene on his bedsheets. Once you left the bathroom you took the bedsheets out of the dryer making Hyuk’s bed for him. You’re surprised your period came so earlier than last time and Hyuk never remembers. Anytime you tell him he still forgets and claims it’s because he knows you’ll remind him so he doesn’t need to remember.

You get where he’s coming from but it still hurts your feelings. While you reminisce on your experiences with Hyuk he is currently struggling at the supermarket. He can’t find the brand you asked for. He even searched it up on Google and he’s staring at his phone and the aisle stressing cause he can't find it. He knows you and if he doesn’t get it right you’re going to beat him up. So he calls reinforcements “Hey Wooin, what are good menstrual products?” He asks.

“So you like her so much you’re even shopping for her?” Wooin says Hyuk can picture his shit eating grin on his face. He hangs up on Wooin knowing he’s in a time crunch to get you the right products. “Fuck it” he grabs a bag of this, a box of that, a packet of this, a tube of that, and then he heads to the snack aisle dumping whatever into his cart. He gets a suspicious look at the counter by the cashier but he’s looking down at her like “my day is hard enough don’t question my life choices”

He makes his way back home to you with a bag load of stuff showing off his riches and his love for you. If you were anyone else he’s probably tell you fuck off and to get it yourself. He opens the bags, unloading everything onto the living room table. You walk into the living room seeing loads of things. “Did you buy the whole store?!” You ask in shock. “I got a few things I thought you might like” he says. “It’s more than a few Hyuk” you say laughing. He doesn’t respond and you help him unload the bags.

“Hyuk, all of this is nice but where are my pads? I kinda need those” you say. “What do you mean where they are in there unless I forgot them at the store.” He says looking around at the items. “Here he says passing you the box” you take the box smiling until you read the box “ADULT DIAPERS HYUK WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK I SHIT ON MYSELF THESE ARE PADS” you shout making him cover his ears. “That’s all that had i swear” he says still covering his ears.

“What else did you buy?” You ask looking at the items. “Nipple bomb?!, SHARTING KIT, A DOUCHE… i'm going to kill you” you say, tackling him down. But he holds up an oversized banana plushie “I got this too” he says and you break down sobbing. “I have nothing to use. I had to use your shorty cheap toilet paper for a pad and you brought me back diapers” you say in between sobs. “Aren’t they the same” he asks. “No they aren’t” you say. “Just wear them, it's not a big deal” he says.

“Since it’s not a big deal you wear them” you say. “Alright I will” he says going into the bathroom coming back out in an adult diaper and your tears start flowing uncontrollably again. “What’s wrong now?” He asks. “Hyuk, that's the scariest thing I’ve ever seen, please take them off,” you say, still sobbing at the sight of your boyfriend in an adult diaper. He finally takes the adult diaper off after deciding to torture you a bit more with it by strutting around and doing model poses. “Alright after the day I’ve had I’m going to sleep and cuddle with me” he says. You follow him to bed and he promises to give you a massage when you wake up.

#Spotify #windbreaker webtoon #windbreaker x reader #windbreaker sabbath #sabbath crew #windbreaker manga #windbreaker manhwa #windbreaker anime #yoo wooin #wooin yu #wooin yoo #hyuk kwon windbreaker #hyuk kwon x reader #hyuk #kwon hyuk x reader #hyuk x reader #hyuk kwon

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vicolette · 2 days ago

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𝐅𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 !

– Warnings : English isn’t my first language, uses of y/n, passing out/being sick, angst with comfort, not proofread

"You’re gonna get me fired."

Lamine couldn’t comprehend whatever you were saying – heck, he couldn’t even comprehend what was happening or why it was happening or how it was happening.

One thing he knew though, and that was, that he felt sick to his stomach.

His vision was blurry and, from what he could muster out were his teammates, they were anxious to the core. His heartbeat was rapidly beating as Lamine took in a deep breath, only to cough and move to lay on his side.

"Bro, you good?!" Alejandro yelled out as he handed you his bottle of water, yet your hands were still checking his pulse and then his forehead. Soon enough, you merely raised your eyebrows before looking at Lamine, furrowing them in disapproval.

"You’re not playing the next game." This one statement made him scoff as he tried to sit up, only for Pedri to tell him to stay calm and wait for the coach to return, the training field turning into a chaos.

Cubarsí paced around while trying to calm both himself and Gavi down, while Aurajo could only stare at Kounde, who had his face hidden in his hands. Everyone else was either trying to find out what was wrong, or too shocked to even be mentioned.

"I so am." Lamine said with a frown on his face, watching as you clicked your tongue after grabbing his leg and checking out his physical condition. Kounde had accidentally tackled him too hard during training and in the midst of apologizing, he fell to the ground.

Now, the problem at hand should have been his calf muscles, which were the ones where he experienced most pain whenever you pressed on it a bit too hard. However, it didn’t take a genius to notice how red his face was, helping you come to a conclusion.

Lamine had a fever.

"Nope." Your words were teasing, mocking, as you bitterly smiled at him and patted his shoulder, making him scoff. He didn’t like to be ridiculed, especially not by you – someone, who always had a say in every single aspect of FC Barcelona players.

Well, not every single aspect, but you were the daughter of one of the doctors and also had the very same smart brain, yet it seemed like you had gotten the playful side from your mother. It made Lamine throw his head back and pant for air, wanting to get over with this and stop the pain.

He felt dizzy and could barely even speak, much less move as he stared at you dead in the eye and hoped for something to happen. Anything. But he could only hear his teammates getting louder.

"Alright, I'm gonna need you to tell me where it hurts the most, understood?" Lamine heard less than half of whatever you had just said, yet had an idea and nodded his head, making you wonder if he seriously understood you. Nonetheless, your hand slid from his thigh to his knee, down to his ankle as you repeatedly pressed your fingers against specific places.

Lamine could only choke on his own saliva, barely managing to stay in place as he stared at the sky. A moment of silence passed by before you held onto his calf, making him nod and try to wiggle out of your grip.

"Lamine, stay calm." It made no sense to say that as you stood up and looked down at him, feeling a bit disgusted by how sweaty he was. However, it was completely normal and understandable, even if it looked weird with his blonde bleached hair.

Taking a step closer to his chest, you sat back down on the green grass and watched as he could barely move his head, pondering whether or not you could do anything else. You weren’t allowed to examine him without permission of your father, so you weren’t even allowed to check or patch him up, since this wasn’t your job.

"Pedri." The said person immediately came for assistance, his own hands almost dripping with sweat from feeling anxious. You tilted your head to look over your shoulder, glancing at Alejandro before speaking up again. "And Alejandro, get a doctor and Flick."

In an instant, they rushed off and split up to get both of them as soon as possible, whereas you looked back at Lamine. If you couldn't afford physical protection, then the least that you could do was help him mentally recover.

With a gentle touch on his cheek, you slowly rubbed your thumb over his cheek and by accident touched his nose, slightly cracking a smile before you apologized. "Sorry, wasn’t my intention."

Lamine could only swallow a few times while staring at you, his fingers aching as he tapped your knee to get your attention, making you look at his hand. Just by the gesture alone did you know that he wanted you to hold his hand, allowing yourself to make a mocking 'awww' sound before interlocking your fingers.

However, Lamine didn’t mind it as he panted for air to enter his lungs, his tousled hair damp at this point, his complexion ill and feverish. In all honesty, he felt like fainting at the moment, yet he remained calm and conscious.

"I like this."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

And after that, Lamine was completely silent as his eyelids grew heavier, slowly falling into the arms of Morpheus. Once he was out cold, your father had finally arrived, yet Flick was yet to be found.

"What happened?" He had said, kneeling down to an already passed out Lamine as he firstly checked his pulse and then forehead, while you just watched. If you were to follow into your father's footsteps, then you could always help Lamine whenever he was overworked, just like now.

You could solely raise an eyebrow as Lamine still held onto your hand, knowing how your father was getting more confused by each passing second, yet you just shrugged your shoulders and smiled at him.

"He's having a fever dream."

– A/N : I fear I love to write his blonde bleached hair😝😝

#lamine yamal #lamine yamal oneshot #lamine yamal x you #lamine yamal imagine #lamine yamal x reader #lamine yamal x y/n #fc barcelona #fc barca #football #footballer #footballer x reader #footballer x y/n #footballer x you #angst #angst with a happy ending

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juliettejwnewinesa · 19 hours ago

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ily please make seongje x forgein reader

ILY TOO 😭🫶 Okay YES. its giving hongdae guy even more

Title: “In Your Corner” Pairing: Seongje x foreign!reader Tags: fluff, slow burn tension, language barrier, protectiveness, soft smut teasing, gym setting POV: 3rd person, female reader

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The first time Seongje saw her, she was taping someone’s wrist too slow.

Not wrong. Just slow.

Her brow furrowed in concentration, lips pressed tight as she tried to follow the trainer’s instructions in half-understood Korean. She nodded too eagerly, smiled too politely, and flinched every time someone shouted across the gym. Definitely not from around here.

Seongje leaned on the ropes and watched, head cocked.

“New manager?” he asked no one in particular.

“Foreign intern,” the trainer muttered back. “Be nice.”

He didn’t answer. Just kept watching.

That night, she tripped over a weight and almost went down. He caught her arm before she hit the mat. Her eyes went wide—shocked. His grip didn’t loosen.

“조심해,” he said flatly. Be careful.

“I’m trying,” she muttered, a bit breathless.

He didn’t let go immediately.

At first, she avoided him.

Too intense. Too unreadable. Always staring from the corner of the ring like he was judging everyone and everything.

But then one night, it rained.

The others cleared out, and she stayed back, mopping up the floors. She didn't notice him still there, shirt damp with sweat, sitting on a bench and wrapping his own knuckles.

“You mop like you fight,” he said suddenly.

She jumped. “I—I don’t fight.”

He smirked. “Exactly.”

She should’ve been offended. But then she saw it—the tiny curl of amusement on his lips. A tease.

“Maybe I should fight,” she shot back. “I’m learning.”

His eyes flicked down, slowly, from her face to her hands.

“Your stance is terrible.”

And just like that, he stood, came up behind her, and kicked her feet apart gently with his own. Moved her arms. Straightened her back.

“Like this.”

His breath was warm near her neck.

She swallowed. “…You always train this close?”

He didn’t answer.

But his hands didn’t move, either.

Days passed. She got used to him.

Used to him handing her water bottles without asking. Used to him grunting in approval when she got her Korean right. Used to the fact that whenever a guy got too flirty near her locker, Seongje would appear out of nowhere.

And one night, when she asked him why he always did that, he just said:

“They don’t speak your language. But I do.”

That shut her up for a long second.

“...You barely talk to me.”

“I listen.”

They didn’t kiss until late one night.

The gym lights were off. Only the emergency bulbs lit the hall. She was organizing tape boxes when he cornered her, one hand braced on the wall, the other brushing her hair back behind her ear.

“You work too hard.”

“You train too hard.”

He smirked. “We’re the same.”

She laughed nervously. “No, we’re not.”

“Don’t want to be?”

“…What do you mean?”

His fingers traced her jaw. “I can show you.”

He kissed her like she was something soft. Something breakable. Despite everything—the coldness, the silence, the sharpness—his mouth moved slow, warm against hers. Like he didn’t want to scare her.

And when her hand gripped his shirt and he groaned just a little into the kiss—she realized something:

He’d been holding back this whole time.

Later, when he sat her down on his lap in the locker room, her thighs on either side of his, his knuckles resting on the backs of her knees—

“You're not scared of me?”

She shook her head.

He smiled, just a little.

“Then stay.”

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firelilyfox · 3 days ago

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Your laughter is my favorite sound

Pairing: 40s!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader Summary: Bucky got accepted into the army. Now he has to train to become a soldier. When the daughter of his General stumbles into the camp, he can't really think about something else. Wordcount: 1.9k Warnings: heavy flirting. indicated s3xual activity. Bucky has a crush on you. combat training. kissing.

__________________________________

December 1941

This is it. The U.S Army training camp. And Bucky never felt more at home in his entire life.

As soon as he got the green light from his physical tests, he packed his bags and waited for the day he could join the other young men to train for combat.

„Hey Barnes! Looks like we are bunk buddys“, his pal from the testing station calls out. He was a bulky kid with a never-ending smile on his face. Sometimes Bucky asked himself if it will vanish during their serving time or not.

Bucky sat down on the bed next to his and smiled. „Great so I can hear you snoring the whole damn night.“

„Hey! I don’t snore at all. I’m a heavy breather.“ He defended himself, throwing a pillow at Buckys face. He caught it mid air and slap it on the head of his friend.

The two young soldiers were laughing like little boys, when the door got opened. All other soldiers stood up simultaneously and lined up perfectly. Bucky noticed it and joined the line of young men, still holding the pillow in one hand.

„Soldier. This is the first day of your training to become honorable men who serve our glorious country. I’m the General of this company and I’m responsible for all of you.“ The old man looked around with a stoic expression on his face.

Bucky should’ve paid attention to him, but he couldn’t focus on his words because he was distracted.

By a woman. He was distracted by you.

He couldn’t believe his eyes, when he watched you step around the general and walked down the line of soldiers. Calm, controlled steps brought you to pass the men. They were listening to the general. But Bucky had only eyes for you.

You’re wearing a uniform, just like them. Heavy boots on your feet and a piercing look on your face.

I never saw someone so intimidating and beautiful at the same time. Bucky thought to himself.

„May I introduce to you“, the Genreal pointing at you. „My daughter. And also the psychological support of this company section. She will judge your mental abilities to cope with stress and possible threats. If you want to serve in the Army, then her verdict will be crucial. Don’t mess up.“

You came to the end of the line, standing right in front of Bucky. He straightens his back and got up to his full size. He was about two heads taller than you. But it he’s got the feeling that won’t impress you much.

Your eyes traveled over his full length and stopped at his hands.

„What is that, Soldier?“ You asked. Bucky almost smiled because he liked the way your voice sounds.

Bucky gulped. „A pillow, ma’am.“

You stepped closer to him and he followed your movements with his eyes. With a challenging spark you looked up to him. „Already tired of me, hm?“

Before he could stutter a pathetic excuse, the General gave a sign to get ready for the first combat training. You turned around on your heel and left Bucky stuttering to himself.

„That was a hell of a first impression, Barnes.“ His friend beside him joked.

Bucky smacked him with his pillow and flipped him off afterwards. But a sudden smile forced itself onto his lips. That could be interesting.

It was really hard for Bucky to find a moment to talk to you alone. Weeks had passed and he didn’t get any chance to interact with you at all. Every time he entered the dining hall, you already had left. When he searched for your face in the crowd of dirty men, you were busy taking notes or talking to the Generals of the different companies.

He almost gave up. But then he decided to go for a run late at night. Bucky had trouble to fall asleep, manly because of all the loudly snoring men in his bunker. The night was peaceful and quiet. The air warm and the sky clouded. Rain was about to come soon.

He ran around the corner and saw someone sitting on the roof of a weapon shelter. The stone bunker was embedded into a small hill, with grass on the top. Two legs were dangling over the entrance.

Bucky couldn’t hold back a smile when he realized it was you. Sitting up there, facing the sky. He jog over to the bunker.

„Do you like to sit on guns at night?“ He asked.

You dropped your gaze down to him. „Does this pickup line usually work for you?“

Bucky felt his cheeks heat up. He repeated his words again in his head and cringed immediately.

„It sounded better in my head.“

You chuckled. It activated butterflies in his stomach. And Bucky knew he wanted to hear it again.

„Why are you awake, Soldier?“

„You can call me Bucky“, he said while climbing up the hill and sat down beside you. With an honorable distance of course. The last thing he wanted was to scare you off.

„Okay. Why are you awake, Soldier Bucky?“ You teased him.

He shakes his head with a defeated smile. „Life threatening earthquakes, caused by the snoring of about sixty men. Makes it hard to fall asleep.“

A laugh escaped your lips. You tried to cover up your mouth with both hands, but the bright sound of your laughter was already etched deep in Bucky’s soul.

„Sorry to hear that. But you don’t need a beauty sleep anyway.“ The second the words were spoken, your eyes widened in shock. Bucky assumed these were meant to stay silent thoughts, that unwillingly escaped your tongue.

A smitten smile pulled on his lips. „So you think I’m pretty?“

You didn’t answer. Instead you jumped up and turned to leave without a word. Bucky failed to hold you back.

Damn she’s fast. He thought, punching himself mentally for screwing up. Bucky could only watch you leave him up on the hill, wondering how someone so confident (and still intimidating) can be so easily flustered by a joke.

Bucky smiled, knowing that from this moment, he wouldn’t give up on you. He will get another chance, even if he has to work for it.

The following days, you were nowhere to be found. Not even in the office of the General. Which made Buckys surprise even bigger, when you joined the company for combat training.

You walked around the paired up soldiers, watching their skills closely. Successfully avoiding getting to close to him. Bucky wouldn’t let his chance slide, so he came up with an idea.

„You have to punch me.“

His friend frowned confused. „I’m trying.“

„No I mean really punch me. As hard as you can. Make it hurt.“ Bucky followed you out of the corner of his eye.

„Are you drunk? Why do you want me to hurt you?“ He asked.

Bucky groaned impatient. „I want her to get over here so I can talk to her.“

He followed when Bucky nodded in your direction. „You really think that will work? She is way out of your league.“

„Yeah no shit! But I still have to try.“

„Fiiine.“ His friend sighted.

And he punched Bucky right in the face. Bucky helped a bit, by tripping and falling to the ground.

„Uh- uhm we need some help over here!“ His pal called out.

„What are you doing?“, Bucky hissed at him.

„I though you wanted her to come over..?“ He replied through his teeth so only Bucky could hear him.

„Yeah but-…“

„What’s wrong?“ You asked as you reached them.

Bucky reacted fast. „Oh uhm - I think he needs to go to the nurse and let them treat his hand. He has very sensitive bones.“

His friend almost contradicted, but instead grabbed his wrist with a painful expression. „Oh yeah. His face hurt my hand really bad.“

You rolled your eyes and pinched the bridge of your nose with your index finger and thumb. „Fine. Go, Soldier.“

Before you could turn back around again, Bucky stood up blocking your way. „I still need another combat partner.“

„And let me guess; you want me to be that?“ You assumed, already straightened your shoulders.

„I will be careful, I promise.“ Bucky said with a crooked smile. He lowered his voice. „Because I think you’re pretty too and I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.“

He wanted it so sound playful but the last part slipped out a bit more serious than he had in mind. Because it was the truth. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. Never.

You blinked in surprise, as if you understood the true meaning behind his teasing words. But you quickly recover and put on a feisty face. With a combination of quick movements, you were able to surprise him and land a high kick on his shoulder. Not hard but clearly making a point.

„You talk to much“, you huffed, landing another hit.

It was like a dance between two strangers that’ve become more and more comfortable with each other. Bucky was surprised about the fighting skills you pulled on him. He never saw you train with the other soldiers, so he didn’t knew what you were capable of. But he always learned quickly. He managed to get a hold on you and captured your wrists in his hands.

„I still don’t know your name“, he said with a low voice.

You blushed. It could be the heat of movement, but Bucky could’ve sweared he saw your cheeks get a little darker.

You got up on your tiptoes, lean closer to him. Bucky could feel your breath on his neck. „Why? Do you want me to make you scream my name?“

Buckys body reacted and froze immediately. His grip weakened around your wrists and he watched you with big, round puppy eyes. You gave him a evil wink … and hooked your leg behind his to send him to the ground with one hard push. He dropped like a wet bag of clothes, unable to defend himself after what you just said. You may be weaker than him, but way smarter.

„It was nice to talk to you, Soldier Bucky.“

He watched you leave, still speechless. This woman will be the death of me.

Later that day he couldn’t resist to sneak out again. The night was quiet and he managed to search for your quarters. Bucky didn’t knew what he expected you to say, when he knocked on your door. Would you be mad? Insult him and telling the General about his inappropriate behavior towards his daughter?

He for sure didn’t expect for you to just tilt your head and smile.

„You make me question everything, you know that? Is your name Mixed Signals by any chance? Because I’m getting the …“

„Bucky“, you mumbled grabbing his collar. „You talk to much.“

You pulled him down and his lips crashed into yours. At first he hesitated in surprise. Never could’ve he guessed your next move and certainly not this one. But then he leaned into the kiss. He rested his rough hands on your waist, pulling you closer.

He pulled away by a few inches. „You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.“

You smiled. „Stop waiting then. And do something.“

Bucky didn’t have to be told twice. He grabbed your thighs and pulled you up, so you could wrap your legs around his waist. With a careless nudge, he pushed the door closed behind you, while still claiming your lips.

When your back hit the mattress, a little squeak escaped your throat, followed by giggles. Bucky pulled away. His blue eyes were sparkling as he looked down at you, softly brushing his fingers over your cheek.

„Your laughter is my favorite sound.“

You melted beneath his strong, defined body. „Let me show you another sound for that list.“

____________________________

Thank you so much for reading! All interactions are highly appreciated (but please don't steal my work)

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

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theamarischapter · 3 days ago

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Stars Misaligned (Teaser!)

pairings: beomgyu x reader

estimated w/c: ~10k

teaser w/c: 1.2k

genre: mild angst, exes, secret-relationship, misunderstandings, heartbreak, non idol au, soulmate au, bittersweet

summary: he was supposed to be practice. something temporary to ease the desire left from waiting for fate to intervene. you’d even made rules to keep things under control, to remind each other of the inevitable end. but, when it came, it wasn’t clean, or quiet, or mature. it was messy. and you’ve been left to reflect on the lingering resentment. the weight of wasting your firsts. wondering what could’ve been—if you’d been patient like everyone else. if you hadn’t lost your closest friend.

taglist open!

a/n: okay so i was supposed to be finishing my other fics and then i got random motivation for this and wrote like half of it in one day so! yeah anyways since i’m rlly motivated im hoping to finish soon and do some editing. yayyy!!! i hope yall like it…

It’s uncomfortably humid for a November afternoon. A warm breeze passes through the open campus, carrying a low hum of conversation through the rustling trees. Yunjin sits beside you on the soft grass, legs outstretched as she leans back, resting her weight on her elbows.

“This soulmate stuff is so dumb.” She huffs, a pout settling onto her face. Her eyes skim over the stream of students on their way to class, the library, or maybe the dorms. Finding nothing of interest, she turns her head to you, dyed hair falling away from her shoulders.

“Seriously, if mine isn’t hot or rich—actually, both—I’m suing.” She declares, voice tinged with her usual sass. “I don’t know who, but I am.”

“Don’t say stuff like that. It’ll get you cursed.” You warn, nudging her with a quiet laugh. Cursed.

A soulmate is a sacred, treasured bond. To be without a soulmate—breaking a bond, or worse, not being given one at all—is truly an unfortunate fate. People look at you differently, wondering what you must’ve done to deserve such a cruel punishment. Deserve, because they can’t fathom the idea that someone with a pure soul would be abandoned by fate. They must have done something, be it in this life or another. They must have gotten cursed.

Yunjin, however, has always been carefree and unbothered. You think, if those little words weren’t engraved onto her wrist as a reminder of what’s to come, she’d be across the country with some unknown lover. She’d enjoy the prospect of casual relationships to pass the time, assuming there’d be anyone else willing to engage in such “unprincipled” acts (as you’ve heard them described before). In fact, she might’ve been better without a bond tying her to fate. Then again, the universe has a way of making things work, so maybe this mystery person might somehow change her completely.

“So what? Soulmates are overrated, anyway—mine’s first words to me are ‘please leave me alone.’ Like, okay. Rude. Maybe I will.” She scoffs quietly, waving her wrist around in front of your face. Your eyes gloss over the words engraved into her skin, neat and pristine. You’re a little jealous. Her soulmate has neat handwriting, but, actually, so does yours.

“You think that’s bad? Look at mine.” You reply, pulling your sleeve up and holding your wrist out. The words sit there, an effortless, elegant scrawl of text across your skin, contrasting the mortifying sentence.

You remember the night they bloomed carefully across your skin. The night you turned eighteen. You almost thought it was a joke, but fate isn’t a humorous matter. The words remained there, dark and unmoving. Any previous excitement had vanished instantly. Your heart was beating too fast, your wrist shaking as you stared down at it, hoping, vainly, that the words would change.

Needless to say, you’ll have an insult etched onto your skin until the day you finally meet your soulmate. You kind of dread it—you can already feel the humiliation aching in your bones. Which means you’ll continue to avoid telling people about it. It’s embarrassing enough to look at, but Yunjin is an exception, since you know she’s not one to judge. Yunjin laughs in amazement, a hint of something like sympathy in her gaze.

“Omg, I’m so sorry for laughing. It’s not funny.” She continues to laugh, but you don’t mind. It’s weirdly comforting. Maybe a deeper part of you expected a weird look or judgment, but Yunjin doesn’t give you either. She gives a soft smile and kind words. A sense of normalcy. “I guess we both have assholes for soulmates. We should make a support group.”

“You’re stupid.” You huff, laughing alongside her and pulling your sleeve back down. She rolls her eyes, shaking her head.

“Fine, no support group. But maybe we can abandon our soulmates and date each other instead.” She tilts her head in that curious, almost pleading way, like she always does when she wants you to agree with her. You just scoff fondly, not entertaining her antics any further. She huffs, nudging you again teasingly. “It’s a good offer.”

“Yeah, okay.” You murmur, sighing as your eyes scan the bright grass dancing in the wind. Your eyes find a little white flower, and it reminds you of a simpler time. Yunjin pulls you from your thoughts with a quiet gasp, eyes wide and trained on something, or someone, in the distance.

“That one. My soulmate needs to be that, but rich, and they’ll be perfect! Ugh, his soulmate must be some sort of angel. I’m jealous.” She pouts, a faint crease between her brows. You follow her gaze over to an, unfortunately, familiar face. He’s laughing at some joke his friend made, the sound obnoxious and warm.

Choi Beomgyu. A campus heartthrob, much to your discontent. His hair is messier than it used to be, overgrown and shaggy, but his eyes are the same. Big and round, with that puppy-like innocence you know all too well. Your face scrunches in disgust subconsciously at the thought of Yunjin complimenting him.

“Yeah, absolutely not. His soulmate must’ve committed some sorta war crime. I feel bad for them.” You mutter, gaze narrowing. For a split second, his gaze finds yours across the wide patch of grass. It’s not the first time, but your heart drops either way, and you look away before he can get any wrong ideas. You’re strangers, now. Yunjin raises an eyebrow, a tinge of confusion in her expression.

“Yikes. What makes you say that?” She asks. Anyone else might think she’s simply curious, but you know that, really, she’s mostly excited about potential gossip.

You hesitate for a moment, fingers mindlessly running through your hair. Now that you think of it, you’ve never admitted this out loud.

“He’s an ex.” You pause, attempting to read her expression for disgust. Disapproval. But there’s nothing, and you can’t quite tell if that’s good or bad. You attempt to salvage your dignity, even if just a little.

“From high school.” You shrug, trying to downplay the shame that pools in your stomach. Guilt. You chose to be impatient. You chose to waste your firsts with someone unworthy of you to begin with, and maybe you even betrayed your soulmate in the process. Betrayed fate. Yunjin’s eyes widen a little, and you brace, subconsciously, for impact. It’s dumb, you know that. You know she won’t judge, but your fingers tremble anyway.

“Oh. Makes sense.” She murmurs, almost unimpressed by the revelation, as if to say, ‘that’s it?’ Then, sensing your nerves, her gaze softens, voice quieter.

“What happened?” She asks, and it may be prying, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. You’ve held the story in for a long time, and you think maybe finally talking about it could help you let go. Forget about all the mistakes. You look into her eyes and recognize the opportunity to open up. To share a piece of yourself that’s long been hidden in the deepest parts of your shadows.

a/n: expected release date is unknown but i’m aiming for this wednesday if i can finish writing and editing. it feels like i haven’t released anything in FOREVER smh (im sorry yall it’s the procrastination demons). anywho, likes and reblogs greatly appreciated!

#beomgyu fic #beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu #kpop fanfic #txt fanfic #beomgyu imagines #theamarischapter #fanfic teaser #txt imagines #txt ff #txt x reader #txt x y/n #beomgyu x y/n #choi beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x you #mild angst #beomgyu angst

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sweetromanova · 1 day ago

Text

Off The Record: Part Ten🖤

Natasha Romanoff x Criminal Defense Lawyer!Original Female Character

Summary: She’s built a career on keeping secrets and defending the worst with nothing to lose. That changed when Natasha Romanoff showed up on the other side of the courtroom.

Warnings: descriptions of violence, psychological manipulation, implied child abuse and trauma, emotional abuse, mentions of torture, human and sex trafficking, war crimes and murder, implied coercion, legal corruption, gun violence, secondary character deaths, power imbalance, blood and injury depiction

A/N: is it only me that thinks drama is so cringe to write? hope you enjoy anyway!🖤

Chapter Ten

Abandoned Warehouse, Brooklyn

April 5, 2022

The metal door groaned on its hinges as it shut behind her. Echoes of her own footsteps bounced through the dim space, shadows lurking in every corner. The air was cold, stale and smelled faintly of oil and rust like it had been sealed off from the world for years.

Sienna moved carefully but without hesitation, eyes scanning the shadows, spine straight despite the jackhammer of her pulse. Her coat flared slightly with each step, concealing the holster she didn’t dare hope she’d get the chance to use.

He was already waiting.

Luka stood at the far end of the warehouse, framed by a single flickering overhead light. He looked perfectly calm, hands in his coat pockets, that same damn smile, warm, charismatic, cruel.

“Sienna.” His voice rang out like he was welcoming her home. “You came.”

“I said I would.” Her tone was cool, even. “You said you had Yelena.”

He spread his arms. “I did say that.”

A moment passed. Her heart sank, just a little. That wasn’t confirmation.

“I want proof she’s alive.” Sienna said, firm but not desperate. Not yet, at least.

Luka chuckled, stepping forward slowly. “Is that why you came? Still clinging to your little moral crusade? That’s not what this is. You know that.”

“This isn’t a negotiation.” She snapped. “You don’t get to taunt me with lives. If she’s alive, I want to see her.”

There was something like admiration in his eyes as he tilted his head. “Still so brave. Even when you’re this deep in.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

“And why is that?” Luka asked, circling her slowly. “Because you care about your little friend’s sister? Or because you lied to me and you’re trying to be the hero again?”

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Because it wasn’t either. It was both. It was everything.

“I saw what you did to Romanoff in court.” Luka murmured, stopping in front of her now. “Impressive. You made her bleed without laying a finger on her. I almost believed you were still with me.”

“I did what I had to.” Sienna said quietly. “It worked.”

“It did.” He agreed. “And it bought you this moment. Right here.”

Then he pulled out his phone.

Her stomach dropped.

The screen lit up, a blurry photo. Blonde hair. A dark room. It could’ve been anyone. It could’ve been her. Or no one.

“You want me to believe that’s her?” She asked, cold rising in her throat.

“I want you to understand what I control.” He replied, voice soft now. “This is about loyalty. You’ve strayed, little sister. I need to know you remember where your home is.”

“I’m not here to betray you.” Sienna said slowly. “I’m here to protect what’s left.”

He studied her, really studied her. Then smiled, gently, like a parent indulging a lie.

“You’ve always been good at pretending.” Luka said, stepping back. “But we’ll see how long that lasts.”

Behind him, a metal door creaked open, footsteps echoed. Sienna tensed, eyes darting to the noise but it wasn’t Yelena. Just one of his men. He said nothing, only nodded once.

Luka looked back at her. “Come. Let’s talk like family.”

Sienna took one last breath, then followed him into the dark.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The silence between them stretched, broken only by the distant hum of old machinery and the faint drip of water somewhere in the walls.

Luka stood near a rusted control panel, lighting a cigarette like he had all the time in the world. Sienna watched the flame catch, orange licking his sharp features, illuminating a face carved in hell, a monster who still thought he was righteous.

She didn’t speak for a while. She just watched him, the faint scar under his jaw, the old bullet graze on his forearm, the familiar way his fingers twitched when he was trying to keep his rage in check.

He was still her brother. Yet he wasn’t

“You remember what Papa used to say?” Luka asked without turning around. “About family loyalty?”

Sienna felt it like a blade under the ribs. “He said loyalty was the currency of survival. That if you had nothing else, you had the name.”

“And?” Luka turned now, cigarette dangling from his lips. “Do you remember what he said would happen to anyone who defiled it?”

“‘Let them burn’.” She whispered.

He smiled. “It was brutal but he wasn’t wrong.”

“No.” She said, sadly. “He wasn’t wrong about everything.”

Luka walked toward her, slow and deliberate, stopping just a foot away. “So you understand what you’ve done.”

Sienna swallowed hard but her gaze didn’t drop. “I finished what he started, I stepped off the wheel, I stopped playing the game.”

Luka’s smile dropped. “By turning your back on your own blood?”

“No.” She snapped. “By choosing to live. Not under his shadow, not under yours because there’s one difference between me and you Luka”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

She took a step closer, her voice low and steady now. “I remember what happened to Dad.”

Luka’s jaw ticked.

“You think he was weak for walking away but he wasn’t running. He was trying to save what was left of us. You saw betrayal, I saw someone who couldn’t stomach the blood anymore.”

“He hesitated.” Luka snapped. “He broke formation. That’s why he died.”

“No, Luka.” She said, voice trembling with the weight of memory. “He died because he refused to turn people into weapons. Because he saw the line and for once in his life, he said no. And you hated him for it.”

Luka’s face was still, unreadable.

“You hated him because he made you feel small. And now you're trying to finish the life he was brave enough to walk away from.”

He stepped forward, eyes burning. “He was a coward.”

“No. He was a father.” She breathed. “And you made him choose between his children and his cause and when he chose us? You went running. Just like you're making me choose.”

A tense beat of silence.

Luka’s expression twisted, something halfway between rage and heartbreak. “You’re not like him.”

Sienna nodded. “No, I’m not. But I’m not like you either.”

“You’d really stand with them? With the people who’d burn everything we built?”

“I’m standing with what’s right.” She said, tears in her voice now. “I’m done being used to prop up someone else’s pain.”

Luka’s gaze sharpened. “If I can’t trust you, Sienna. if you’ve turned your back on this family then maybe you’re better off gone.”

She froze, chest tightening. His voice softened, almost loving. “Better to bury you with honour than let them keep corrupting you.”

Sienna blinked, something in her splintering. “You’d kill me out of love?”

“I’d kill you to keep you mine.” Luka said softly. “Same thing.”

The tension in the room throbbed. Sienna had one last shot.

“I can help you disappear.” She said suddenly, words tumbling out like oxygen. “I can give you new papers. Money. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere you can be free of this. This doesn’t have to go down like this, Luka.”

His laugh was low and humourless. “You think I want to disappear?”

“I think you’re scared.” She shrugged. “Of what you’ve become. You have no way to stop this now.”

“I’m exactly who I was born to be.” He hissed. “We are weapons. That’s what he made us. You just decided to go blunt.”

“I decided to stop hurting people.” She said, her voice cracking. “I decided to be something more than his legacy.”

“You even sound like them now…” Luka murmured, stepping even closer. “Like the ones who tried to scrub us out of history like we were stains.”

“They weren’t wrong.” She replied. “You just couldn’t let go of the war, Luka. Even when it ended, you kept fighting ghosts.”

“So you did betray me.” Luka said and now his voice was cold. “You bled for them. Lied for them. Protected Romanoff.”

“I did.” She confirmed. “Because I believe there’s a way out.”

His hand slipped into his coat, slow and deliberate. “Don’t.” She whispered. “Please. Don’t do this.”

He just looked at her. The cigarette burned down to ash between his fingers and his voice was nearly tender. “I loved you more than anyone. More than anything. You were the only piece of this world I thought was worth saving.”

“You still can.” She whispered. “It’s not too late.”

But his expression didn’t change. “You don’t get it. You’re already gone.”

For a breathless second, Sienna thought this was it. That he’d lift the weapon, that this was how it would end, not in betrayal but in his twisted idea of love. Perhaps Natasha would come and scrape her cold body off the floor before finding her sister. She’d be buried in a shallow state grave that would wilt away over time because who would come visit her? The family of Luka’s victims would probably spit on her grave. And she’d deserve it, she told herself.

But before anything could happen, before the silence could become blood, the sound of a door clanged open somewhere in the distance.

A voice shouted. Fast footsteps.

The stillness broke.

Luka’s eyes snapped toward the noise, sirens echoing just a bit further out. “They’re here.”

He looked back at her, a cruel smirk creeping across his face. “Let the show commence.”

The next moments were chaos, Sienna couldn’t even react to what was happening.

The metal door slammed open and the room exploded into movement. SHIELD agents flooded the corridor, tactical gear glinting under the warehouse lights. Behind them, the Avengers tore through like a storm. Steve’s shield ricocheted off steel beams, Bucky already firing, Wanda’s eyes glowing red with rage.

Sienna barely had time to duck before a concussive blast hit the far wall. She hit the floor hard, arms thrown over her head. The acrid scent of smoke, sweat, and adrenaline filled the air.

Luka was gone in the confusion, vanished into the shadows like he’d rehearsed the escape a thousand times.

“Sienna!” She heard someone shout but she was already moving.

She bolted through the hallway he’d used, winding through rusted corridors and dim stairwells, heart hammering in her chest. She checked every room, every crevice, looking for Yelena. She turned left, then down a metal stairwell and burst through a side door.

The room was dim, a single flickering lightbulb overhead.

There, slumped in the far corner.

Blonde hair. Blood on the concrete.

“Yelena.” She gasped, stumbling forward.

But as soon as she got closer, her stomach dropped.

It wasn’t her.

It was a girl, young, lifeless, unfamiliar. Dressed in clothes meant to mimic Yelena’s style. Her hair the same shade. But the face was wrong. A decoy.

“Oh my god.” Sienna staggered back, hand covering her mouth.

He hadn’t taken Yelena. He’d used the idea of her as bait.

A trap. A game.

And she’d walked right into it.

He was always going to finish this with her today.

The warehouse shook with another blast, panic surged through her again. She turned and ran, sprinting back the way she came, lungs burning. As she rounded the final corner, she skidded to a stop.

Luka was there, in the main chamber, locked in a brutal fight with Natasha.

The two moved like lightning. Red hair and black rage. A blur of fists, knives, and fury.

Natasha was losing ground, just slightly as she attempted to also fend off the loyal men that would die for her brother.

Sienna’s body moved before her mind caught up. Her hands found the sidearm still strapped to her thigh. She raised it.

“Stop.” She whispered, her voice barely audible, cracking with the weight of panic. She knew, deep down, they couldn’t hear her, not over the chaos, not through the violence but she needed them to stop. She needed him to stop.

“Please.” She breathed. “Just stop.”

Neither of them did.

Luka’s knife caught the light.

Natasha ducked, just a little too slow.

Sienna didn’t think. She just pulled the trigger.

The gunshot shattered the air, a single thunderclap that rang through the warehouse.

Luka’s body jolted as the bullet hit.

He staggered once then slowly turned toward her, not angry or afraid, just stunned, betrayed.

Sienna’s breath caught, her hands trembled.

He didn’t fall right away. He just stared at her, eyes wide, confused, almost… disappointed. And then, as the red bloomed across his shirt, he dropped to one knee like the weight of what had happened had finally caught up with him. And his face suddenly changed, maybe admiration? Admiration that his weak little sister finally pulled the trigger.

She didn’t look away.

She couldn’t.

Natasha collapsed to one hand, breathing ragged. Her gaze lifted, meeting Sienna’s silently.

Then, from the edge of the room, a movement.

One of Luka’s men, dazed but recovering, turned. He had seen it all.

And in the space of a heartbeat, he raised his gun.

The barely had time to process.

One single shot cracked out and then Bucky’s arm came down, hard and fast, flooring the man before he could fire again.

But not before the bullet flew.

And once it hit the intended target, the warehouse finally went silent.

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