#✧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ☆ —— if i think too hard i’m scared i might lose it ⌗ 𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘦 .

[locomoqo]

Could we get something related to gun trying to convince the reader who he loves to stay with him. Reader is conflicted with her feelings because she loves him but she’s aware of his job and how dangerous it is for the both of them. Angst & comfort please!

love me like a sailor

— gun park x reader

details: angst with comfort, established relationship

A/N: 1.2k words whewww, also i hope i did gun's personality justice here🥹 i rlly do believe he'd soften around someone he loves (i have a feeling this didnt come off as angsty as i wanted it to be bleh)

The room is dimly lit, shadows stretching long across the floor as the evening light fades behind heavy curtains. Gun stands in front of you, his usually impassive face softened by an emotion he rarely shows—vulnerability. The tension between you both is almost suffocating, a thick silence hanging between breaths. Your heart is heavy with the weight of a decision you don’t want to make.

“I don’t know if I can keep doing this,” you murmur, your voice barely a whisper. You clutch your arms, holding yourself together because you’re afraid that if you let go, you’ll fall apart. You look up at him, eyes filled with the conflict that’s been tearing at you for weeks. He’s been distant lately, lost in the chaos of his work, and you can’t pretend any longer that it doesn’t scare you.

Gun’s jaw tightens, his usually stoic expression cracking for a brief second. There's a flicker of something fragile in his eyes. He steps forward, a little too quickly, as if he's scared you might vanish. “I’m here now, aren’t I?” he says, his voice quiet and distant—just like it always is.

You meet his gaze, your eyes brimming with unshed tears, hating that he makes it sound so simple. “But for how long?” you ask, your voice breaking. “You’re always chasing danger, always fighting, always risking everything. I can’t... I can’t keep pretending it doesn’t tear me apart every time you walk out that door.” The words spill out of you, each one a stab to your own heart. You hate how weak you sound, how vulnerable. But you can’t help it. You can’t stop loving him.

Gun’s brows furrow, his usual mask slipping as he takes a step closer. He towers over you, but there’s a gentleness in his eyes that contradicts his imposing presence. His hands tremble slightly as he reaches for you but stops, hovering with uncertainty as if he’s not sure he has the right to touch you anymore. “I don’t know how to be different,” he admits, his voice raw and low, twisting your heart. It's true, fighting has become part of who he is, it's all he's ever known. “This is who I am. But if it means losing you, I’ll—”

“No,” you interrupt, shaking your head, feeling tears sting at the corners of your eyes. “I don’t want to be the reason you lose your edge. I don’t want to be your weakness.”

You see frustration flare in his eyes, the helplessness he fights so hard to conceal. His hands drop to his sides, curling into fists as he takes a shaky breath. “Do you think I want to be this way?” he asks, his voice suddenly fierce, desperation cutting through his words. “Do you think I don’t know what it does to you every time I leave? I’m trying, damn it, but I can’t just walk away from who I am. I’ve built my life around this, and I can’t change it, not overnight.”

He stretches his hand out, catching yours before you can pull away. There's an urgency in his grip—an unspoken plea hidden beneath his cold facade. The anger fades from his face, replaced by something hollow and broken. “You’re not my weakness,” he insists, his hold firm but gentle. “You never have been. You’re the only person who makes me want to be better. For you.” He swallows, eyes locked on yours. “I know it’s dangerous. I won’t lie to you about that. But I can protect you. I will protect you.”

Your heart aches at the sincerity in his voice, but you know it’s not enough. You pull your hand back, wiping away a tear before it can fall. “What if something happens to you?” you ask, your voice cracking. “What if I lose you?”

Gun’s expression tightens, and he reaches for you again, his hands settling on your shoulders with surprising gentleness. “Nothing’s going to happen to me,” he says firmly, his voice steady, as if daring fate to contradict him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He almost adds, “Not if it means leaving you,” but the words die in his throat.

“...I don’t want to leave,” you say, your voice hoarse, and it’s the truth. You don’t want to lose him. You don’t want to be without the man who’s somehow become the most important part of your life, the one who knows you better than anyone else. “But I don’t want to watch you destroy yourself either.” Your voice wavers, and you turn away as a sob escapes before you can choke it down.

Gun’s fingers gently tilt your chin back, his touch tender in a way that takes you by surprise. “Look at me,” he commands, his tone softer than you’ve ever heard. You meet his gaze, and for the first time, you see the raw fear in his eyes—the fear of losing you. “I’m not asking you to ignore the danger. I’m asking you to stay with me.”

Your chest tightens, and you shake your head as tears finally spill over. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough for this,” you admit, your voice barely audible.

Gun’s hands come up to cup your face, and this time, he doesn’t hesitate. His touch is achingly gentle, his thumb brushing away the tears that fall down your cheeks. “Then don’t watch,” he says, his voice teetering on desperation. “Let me be the one who takes the risks. I’ll handle it. I’ll handle everything if it means I can keep you by my side.” His voice is so soft, so uncharacteristically vulnerable.

“Isn’t that enough?” His eyes, usually so cold and distant, search yours, desperate for any sign that you might stay.

For a moment, all you can hear is the pounding of your own heartbeat, each thud echoing in your ears. The tears come faster now, and you let yourself lean into his touch, feeling the warmth of his palms against your skin. There’s a sadness in his gaze that cuts you to the core, but there’s also hope—a fragile, flickering flame that refuses to die.

Your hands tremble as you cling to the fabric of his shirt, your fingers curling into the material. “I love you,” you whisper, your voice breaking, “but I’m scared, Gun. I’m so scared.”

His arms wrap around you, pulling you against his chest. His hold is firm and unwavering, like he’s trying to shield you from the world itself. “Then be scared,” he whispers into your hair, his breath warm against your temple, “but don’t go.”

It's the first time you’ve ever heard him beg, and it shatters something inside you. You stay there, wrapped in the security of his embrace. He’s far from perfect, and so are you, but in this moment, you find a sort of peace—a hope that, maybe, love is enough.

Gun pulls back slightly, his hands still cradling your face as he stares at you with an intensity that steals your breath. “Stay,” he whispers, his voice rough and desperate. “I promise I won’t let anything happen to us.”

You don’t know what the future holds, or if his promise is one he can keep, but in this moment, as his thumb gently brushes your cheek, you find yourself nodding, your resolve crumbling in the face of the man you love. Gun exhales shakily, a soft, relieved sound, and pulls you closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck. For the first time in a long while, you feel like maybe—just maybe—everything will be okay.

[tvintedspvrkarc]

STARTER CALL .

like for a starter from louise belcher 🤍

[tvintedspvrkarc]

@escapedfromthevoiid

SUPERSTORE 2.06 - "Dog Adoption Day"

[tvintedspvrkmoving]

𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗟 𝗕𝗘𝗥𝗥𝗬 𝗖𝗔𝗠𝗘𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗟 : 1 / ∞ ❝ 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘔𝘈𝘒𝘌𝘚 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭 , 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 ? ❞

— 𝙢𝙪𝙩𝙪𝙖𝙡𝙨 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 / 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨 —

[schrodingerscougar]

Note: Wow, the roommate!Simon story blew up. Anyway, here's part 2.

Following his conversation with Johnny, Simon begins to think. He begins to consider the possibility that maybe, just maybe, he’s developing feelings for you. Why else would he be so protective and mad when the sergeant talks this way about you? The thought scares him at first.

For one, being near him is a death sentence, he saw that with his family. He can’t even imagine surviving losing someone he loved again. Then there is another thing, the fact he isn’t sure you would return his feelings. If you didn’t, as he suspects, living with you would be torture, and he’s honestly too lazy to look for a new place to stay.

The next time he arrives home in the middle of the day, the apartment is empty since you’re at your workplace most probably. Not seeing your face brighten at the sight of him makes his heart ache, but he knows you’ll be home in two or three hours, so he can most certainly survive that by lying down to catch up on sleep. He leaves a post-it for you on the small table next to the front door where you always put your keys, warning you that he’s back home.

He’s woken by the smell of fresh coffee and something sweet. When he checks the clock on his bedside, he notices it’s past seven, which means he slept a good four hours without interruptions. The new record of the past weeks as the most he slept peacefully was two hours tops. He climbs out of bed and goes to the living room, surprised to see you in the kitchen, humming a song to yourself as you admire the neatly cut brownies on the kitchen island.

“You’re awake!” you exclaim happily, quickly pressing a button on the coffee machine to make him some coffee too, then pick up an empty plate and put a slice of brownie on it. “Welcome home. Here, try this. I thought you might use some homemade things after being away for so long.”

That damn smile of yours. It’s wide, happy, and it easily warms his heart and makes him smile too. Your good mood is infectious and he finds himself stuffing the cookie into his mouth as he stands next to you, nudging your side with his hip playfully. “It’s perfect, thank you,” he says while chewing, earning a roll of your eyes. You hate it when someone talks with their mouth full, so he quickly swallows the remains and goes, “Sorry.”

You shake your head with a laugh then turn away to get his coffee. Simon can’t help but wonder if this is how things would always be if you were his wife, if you would be this kind and caring all the time. He certainly could get used to this. He wouldn’t believe he deserves all the love, but he would definitely enjoy your attention.

“What got you thinking so hard?”

Simon lets out a questioning hum before realizing he zoned out for a while. “You,” he replies honestly.

“Me?”

“Mm-hmm.” Before you could ask more questions, he moves in front of you, trapping you between the kitchen island and his body as he leans down to you. “I had an interesting conversation with someone and it got me thinking while I was gone,” he says with his lips moving so close he almost kisses you. “Do you have any idea how much I miss you when I’m deployed? How many times do I wonder what you’re doing while I’m away?”

It’s easy to tell, especially from this close, that your heart is racing and your breath is caught in your throat as you watch him. Your eyes are moving back and forth between his lips and his eyes, unable to decide what to focus on. You’re both under a spell that he doesn’t want to break, in fact he wants this moment to last forever, this anticipation before he finally makes up his mind to kiss you. He wants to do it, but he can’t help but think about whether or not you would be against it.

Maybe he thinks too much, maybe his brain is too focused on the negative thoughts, and before he knows it, you move your head to capture his lips with yours in a slow and sensual kiss. Simon is aware that he has issues. He understands that his brain is only on high alert because deep down he doesn’t believe he deserves your attention. After all, he’s not a good man. Well, not always. He does his job like a good little soldier, but the lines are blurry between good and bad.

He knows that you know this too. Shortly after he moved in and found out what he did for a living, you had a lot of questions, many that he simply wasn’t allowed to answer. But you probably sensed that he was keeping things to himself, certain aspects of this position that civilians would never understand. He didn’t want to scare you away, he didn’t want you to throw him out, so he kept his mouth shut. You knew that and never pried for more information.

When your nails dig into the skin on his back in a desperate attempt to pull him closer, Simon finally returns to the moment, returning your delicious kiss while his hands grab your ass and help you on the counter behind you. His lips trail from your lips to the shell of your ear, whispering praises until he feels your hands moving to his belt.

As much as he wants that, he knows he has to stop you. So he reaches down to grab your hands, pulling them away and lacing his fingers with yours as he kisses the tip of your nose. “Not yet, love. Let’s go on a proper date first, yeah?” he asks you with a small smile.

You whine, then you beg for more, asking him why you have to go on a date when you've been living together for over a year now. He tells you that the reason is simple; he spent a bigger part of it away from home so you have to get to know each other.

“I know you, Simon,” you push on, your fingers tracing the tattoos on his forearm as you speak. When you see the determination in his eyes, you finally let out a sigh of defeat and say, “Okay, fine. Let's go on a date first. But don't even think about something fancy. Let's keep it simple.”

With a short laugh, he leans down to give you a quick kiss. “Understood.”

Later in the evening, way past eleven, the two of you finally say goodnight and he returns to his room. There's a message waiting on his phone, one that came from Johnny. “I’ll send her a DM if you won't introduce me,” it says.

“Better not. She's taken,” he replies.

[rinhaler]

Rin Itoshi and female s/o taking each other first time

omgggggg i tried to make it romantic and sweet but i do love a slutty ass dude who's in control so apologies if this isnt exactly what u wanted hehe

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, virgin!rin, virgin!reader, fingering, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, tit sucking, "just the tip" pfft, slight manipulation, brief condom use, premature ejaculation, creampie.

words: 2.9k

Your heart races as you watch Rin scroll through his phone and find some music to play. He looks so serious, though that’s nothing new. You don’t dare speak, worried you’ll say the wrong thing if you do. He looks up at you, briefly, offering a weak smile before looking through his phone again.

“We don’t have to do this, you know.” he tells you without even looking at you. You watch him as he starts hooking up his phone to the Bluetooth speaker in your room, and you shuffle uncomfortably on top of your bed.

“I want to… ‘m just scared.” you confess, breath shaking slightly as you exhale. “Do you still want to?” you wonder, feeling shy as you ask. You’re sure he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t want to, though.

Rin doesn’t do anything he has no interest in.

“Yeah.” he tells you, setting his phone down before looking back at you, finally. He’s so far away, it feels too formal. Though you assume he wants to set the pace and make sure everything is comfortable for you both before you proceed. “We agreed,”

“I know.” you nod, recalling the moment you decided as teenagers to give each other your virginities if you hadn’t lost them after you turned twenty. “Just checking.”

The concept of Rin being single, let alone a virgin, is something you can’t even begin to comprehend. You’ve been best friends with him since you could talk. You remember him having no interest in you until you forced your way into playing soccer games with him and his brother. You soon gave it up once you got what you wanted, but you’ve been inseparable ever since.

Girls have always thrown themselves at Rin, but he never cared. Not really. You remember him having one girlfriend and it never went anywhere. It only lasted three weeks. He told you the gory details of their sex lives, though. Only because you asked.

It didn’t go past hand stuff.

“I brought condoms.” he tells you, pulling a box from his bag and setting them down on the desk he’s sitting by.

“I- I’m on the pill.” you respond. “I heard it feels better without… those. But we should use them.”

“Okay, yeah.” he agrees.

“… but we don’t have to.”

“I’ll use one.” he assures you, not wanting to make you feel pressured to go raw for his benefit. Though you’re sure it would be for yours, too. “If you want me to take it off, I can do that.”

You nod, agreeing.

“This is so…” you think, searching around the room for any inspiration of a descriptor to use. He stares at you, intently, wondering what you might say. He’d never tell you, but he’s just as nervous as you are. Of course he has an edge of experience ahead of you, but he’s still clueless. He wants to make sure this is going to be nice for you.

Perfect, if possible.

“What?”

“Formal.” you shrug.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” he responds, scratching his neck as he thinks about what you told him. He looks around, feeling a little too awkward to make eye contact. “I just want to make sure everything’s going to be okay…”

“It’s fine, you’re right.” you smile, “I just thought my first time would be… romantic. It’s stupid, I’m sorry.” you shake your head, dismissing the idea.

You knew you’d end up here with him eventually. You had no intention of losing your virginity to anyone else, after all. You’ve been in love with him for years, and finding out he got a girlfriend almost killed you. It was hard hearing about how they became intimate, but you were so fucking relieved when they broke up.

He only decided to get a girlfriend because he thought you weren’t interested in him, though. You’ve always been a forbidden fruit he wouldn’t dare try to cross a line with. You’re his best friend, after all. He wouldn’t want the romantic feelings he has towards you to ruin that.

“It’s not stupid.” he assures you. “Here, pick some music.” he hands you his phone.

You start to scroll and realise you’re looking on a playlist he created aptly named sex playlist. It makes you giggle, but you don’t comment. And you don’t pay him any mind as he leaves the room while you continue searching for a song.

The boy has good taste, you soon realise.

He comes back a few minutes later with some candles from a nearby cupboard. He knows you too well. You hoard them, you always have. You get an abundance each year for Christmas and rarely use them. He starts lighting them and placing them around the room.

You finally look up as he turns the light on, the room dimly lit by the burning flames scattered around.

“Is this better? I should have gotten some rose petals or something…”

“N-No, this is fine.” you smile, “Thank you, Rinnie, this is nice.”

He clears his throat and sits beside you on your bed. You quickly hand him his phone, prompting him to lean over to place it back down on your desk.

Your heartbeat begins to increase rapidly as he faces you. You haven’t even so much as kissed before, let alone what else will follow. He reaches out to caress your face, and it takes all of your willpower to not flinch.

“R-Rin… do you, um, d-do you watch…”

“Porn? Yeah. Do you?”

His reply makes your face flush with heat and the thought of confessing your own truth makes you even hotter. You look away from him, twiddling your fingers in your lap and looking at those instead.

“I know it won’t be like that… it’s your first time. And mine.” he reminds you.

He’s always been so mature. And you’re glad he’s doing all he can to put you at ease. He puts a finger under your chin, forcing you to look up at him again. You gulp, nervously, before nodding. He smirks at that.

“Good, I’m glad,” he tells you, beautiful jade eyes flickering with flames as he stares at you. “Means you know what you like.” he leans into you, an attempt to kiss which you immediately back away from. And you apologise, profusely, assuring him that you’re still a little nervous.

“I— I know guys can, you know, it can be quick… s-so don’t feel bad.”

“Don’t worry about that.” he shakes his head. “If I cum quickly, I’ll make sure you finish.”

He closes the distance between the two of you, his lips planting softly on your own. His eyes close as he loses himself to it, though you keep yours open for a little while as you process what is happening.

You’re making out with your best friend!

Though when his large, dominating hands begin to fondle your chest, you pull away entirely.

“Sorry, did I hurt you?” he wonders.

“N-No, I didn’t expect you to be so confident.” you whisper, and he kisses you again, smiling into it.

Your eyes close as you allow him to continue locking lips with you. His hand entirely gropes one of your tits and his thumb casually strokes over it. Even through the layers of your crop top and bra, you find yourself mewling softly.

He smooths his hand over the curve of your waist until he reaches the bottom of your crop top. His fingers breach upwards towards your bra, roughly groping at it and the fat of your tits.

“O-Ow.” you speak, softly.

“Sorry,” he whispers back, “Can I take your top off?” he asks between continuous kisses.

“Uh-huh.” you nod, dumbly.

He breaks the kiss to quickly pull your crop top over your head. His lips attach to yours again almost instantly as he starts to fiddle with your bra. He stops kissing you, again, to look over your shoulder so that he can undo the clasp. You gasp when he finally unhooks it, keeping the pink material against your chest to preserve your modesty.

“Can I see?” he asks, his eyes moving between yours and your hands. You hum, nervously, but nod. He helps you pull down your straps as you keep the material held firmly against your chest. Sighing, slightly panic in your voice as you strip the material away. “Fuuuuck…” he mutters to himself, adjusting his hardening cock in his pants as he looks at you.

“You should take something off.” you suggest before he can kiss you again. He immediately pulls his t-shirt over his head, tousling his hair back into place right after.

You continue to moan against his lips when he kisses you again. And they only get louder as he kisses down your neck whilst flicking his thumb over your pebbled nipple. He grunts against your skin, battling on whether he should say something to you or stay silent.

He’d hate to ruin the mood.

“Are you hard yet?” you ask him, your shy demeanour leaving you as you lose yourself to the sensation of his hands caressing your body. “S-Should we do it?”

“Wanna feel?” he asks, not waiting for an answer as he pulls your hand towards the bulge in his jeans, moaning immediately from the contact. “Look what you’ve done to me.” he laughs, pulling you closer and hooking one of your legs over his own.

He scratches the back of his nails up your thigh, stopping just short of dipping under your skirt as you shiver from the touch. His eyes find yours, kissing you reassuringly.

“Can I feel you?” he wonders, and, of course, you nod. His fingers disappear under your pleated skirt, quickly cupping your panty-clad mound. He barely gasps when he comes into contact with your panties. “You’re so wet…”

“S-Stop…” you reply, shyly, “s’embarrassing…” you tell him.

“You need to be wet for me,” he responds, that big, logical, brain of his immediately putting you in your place. Reminding you that he is the one with a little more experience and you need to listen to him. “You’ll be so tight… even for a finger.”

He forces your body down, flat against the bed and flips up your skirt. The cute triangular shape of your panties makes his cock throb, and he moves them into the crease of your thigh.

“Tell me if it hurts…” he requests, staring into your eyes as deft fingers come into contact with sopping flesh. He runs them through your folds, and you jolt when a finger tip grazes your clit. He moves it towards your hole, slowly teasing around it before pushing in. He stops, quickly, when you yelp. “Sorry, I’ll go slower. Hold onto me.” he instructs, a hand wraps around his bicep and squeezes as he continues to plunge his longer finger deep inside.

“Kiss me,” you whimper, pathetically. He drops his head so that your lips can meet again. He devours the moans and cries you emit as he curls his finger in and out of you. It feels odd, but not unpleasant. It’s still painful but it begins to subside.

“Gonna add another, okay?” he asks, and you nod. You hiss, instantly, hands flying down to pull his away. “Sh, sh sh, I’ll go slow again, okay? Gotta be able to take them or we can’t fuck.”

You fight back tears as the stretch begins to sting. He sinks his head lower, taking one of your hardened nipples into his mouth. Your back arches off the bed slightly, coaxing him to look up at you. And then he remembers all of articles he’s read. All of the research he’s done.

He even thinks about his teammates talking about sex.

“You have to worship the clit.” he recalls one of them saying.

He pulls away from your tit, briefly, to line his thumb up with your clit and apply pressure. He circles it carefully, monitoring your expressions as he does. You yelp, trying to close your legs, but he opens them back up with his free hand.

“Are you gonna cum?” he wonders.

“It’s too much, Rinnie!” you gasp, skin tightening over your knuckles until they turn white as you grip the sheets. “S-Slow down, please! S’too much!” you cry, unable to hold back your tears any longer.

He doesn’t relent, however. Hoping the way your body trembles means you’re about to cream all over his fingers. It was an achievement he never reached with his ex without her assistance. She showed him how and where to touch to make her cum. But you’re not her. You’re perfect.

You gasp, breathlessly, as your pussy begins to tighten around his fingers. Your clit throbs as he teases it just right and you begin to cum hard and fast for him. He kisses between the valley of your breaths, whispering sweet nothings as you reach your peak and plummet back down to earth. He slows down his ministrations as you begin to shudder and twitch from the after shocks, looking up at you adoringly when you start to calm down.

“Good?” he asks.

“Very,” you pant, laughing lightly as you find your sense again. “Rinnie…” you speak, your confident bravado disappearing again as you feel naked and exposed.

“Yeah?”

“Promise me… promise you’re a virgin, too…” you say, looking up at the ceiling. You feel too needy and desperate as you speak. But that was too good for him to not know what’s he’s doing. He’s seriously only done that once on another girl? It’s a little hard to believe.

“I promise. Was it really that good?” he smirks. He kisses both of your nipples softly before sucking his fingers clean of your juices. “I’ve been preparing… reading about stuff. Asking advice. I’ve told you everything I’ve done, I swear.”

He stands up, unbuttoning his jeans and kicking off his shoes at the same time. He pulls of his jeans and underwear in the same movement, revealing his large, blushing cock.

“We don’t have to do this.” he assures you, picking up a condom from your desk and tearing the foil with his teeth. He rolls it down his length, the rubbery sheen covers the pretty pink colour of his dick. “Do you want to stop?”

“Um,” you think about it. He’s asking as if he isn’t already raring to go. You look between his erection and his intimidating stare as you think about what to say.

“What about just the tip?” he asks. And at that, you nod. He reaches under your skirt and pulls down your panties to ogle your drippy cunt one more time. He feels himself throb at the thought of splitting your virgin hole open on his fat cock. He’s always known he was big, and he really doesn’t want to hurt you. He can only hope his fingering was enough prep before you rob each other of your innocence for good.

He lines up his cockhead with your virgin slot as he cages you in beneath his wide frame. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to kiss you, your moan semi silenced as he pushes his tip in.

Oh God this isn’t enough.

He knew he’d need more.

Just a little more.

He pushes in a bit further, and you pull your lips away from his to voice your concern.

“H-Hurts,” you tell him. “You’re really big.” you inflate his ego further, earning another inch of his cock.

He can’t help it, you’re spurring him on!

And he can only imagine how much better you’d feel wrapped around him without this stupid fucking rubber on. He stops pushing when you place your palms on his shoulders, forcing him to pull back a little. “Is it the condom, Rin? Is it t-too dry?” you wonder, batting your eyelashes up at him so innocently.

“Yes.” he replies, without hesitation. “I’ll take it off.”

He pulls out of you instantly. He hisses a little as he pulls at the condom too hard and it snaps back. He decides to push it up from the base of his cock, lining up with your cunt again right after.

And it’s like you’re made for him as he pushes in. He smothers any whimper you can make with a searing kiss. You feel his tongue slip into your mouth as he pushes in further and further until there’s nothing left to give.

You’re crying, again, not expecting to feel so much so soon.

“God, you’re beautiful.” he praises you. He moves his hips, slowly. His cockhead unintentionally nudges against your soft spot with every rut. The blinding pleasure prevents you from telling him, once again, that it hurts and it’s too much. “I know I said just the tip, jus’ feel so good, princess.” he whispers delicately against your skin.

And, as expected, he doesn’t last long.

A few pathetic strokes of his cock inside of you have him spilling thick spurts of white cream into your unprotected walls. He collapses on top of you, panting violently as he stuffs you full.

He was so backed up before this. He masturbates, of course, but not as much as the average guy. You’ve had this planned for a few weeks, now, so he decided to abstain so he could really enjoy feeling you for the first time.

“Fuck, ‘m sorry. Should have jerked off before I came over.”

“It’s okay.” you tell him, fingers mussing through his hair as you come to terms with the fact that you’ve finally lost your virginity, to your best friend of all people.

“I need to fuck you again,” he confesses, your fingers stop as you look down at him.

“W- now?”

“Soon,” he corrects you. “I want to taste you first.”

© 2023 rinhaler

[suguann]

tags. fem!reader, the overused 'i know we're supposed to be fwb but i fell in love with you anyway' trope, confessions, gojo mentally spiraling during sex over how much he's in love with you because that's a very him thing to do [18+ only]

Gojo can’t tear his eyes off you as you move above him—riding his cock like this would be the last time you’d ever feel it inside you. That thought twists his insides, his fingers digging into your hips as if you might float away before he ever really had a chance to voice the words he’s been too scared to say.

But he couldn’t really stop you if you wanted to leave—that’s how the groundwork of uncomplicated arrangements like these work, at least in the beginning. He likes to think that a lot has changed since that night in your living room between two drunk, lonely people with nothing to lose aside from your torn underwear in his haste to get them down your soft legs and an old condom tucked away in his wallet.

The feeling sneaks up on him without his knowing, a throbbing in his chest that festers and grows over time until he can’t ignore it anymore or contain it in the proverbial cup of his hands no matter how hard he tries.

It doesn’t dampen how much he wants to mold the shape of his cock inside your tight little cunt, to ruin you for anyone else who thought they even had a chance, to have his name be the first thing you think of when you cum. He wants to make every part of you his, and he only hopes you want the same thing, too.

He groans at the thought, gripping you tight to slam his hips up into you. “Tell me who’s fucking you so good. Tell me who’s the only one that gets to make you cum.”

“You, Toru!” you sob, holding onto his biceps to keep yourself from falling against his chest. It has his balls drawing up tight, and he sucks in a breath to stop this from being over too soon.

“That’s right, pretty girl,” he grunts. “I’m the only one who gets to see you like this. I’m the only one who gets to feel this sweet princess cunt.” He leans up to suck one of your nipples into his mouth, groaning when he feels you clench down around him.

“I-I’m gonna cum,” you choke out.

“Yeah?” His fingers circle over your clit as he shoves his cock deeper inside of you to take you there faster, nipping at the swell of your breast. “Fuck, give it to me, baby. Lemme feel it.”

His name is soft and sweet on your tongue as you cum, squeezing around him until his eyes roll back from how good it feels. It has him following after you, grinding his cock as far as it can go while he pulses and fills you to the brim. There’s so much that he feels it leak out of your little hole and drip down his balls to pool in an uncomfortable wet puddle forming beneath him.

He rolls away from the mess when you both catch your breath, his softening cock still tucked away between your wet thighs. You stroke his hair, your nails lightly scratching his scalp, and he buries his face into your chest, words weighing heavy in his chest.

Maybe he should cut the bullshit already, say what he wants to say, and get let down easy while he still has a chance to recover from rejection—

“Sleep with me?” he asks, voice muffled and a shade of red high on his cheeks.

You giggle, lightly tugging on his hair. “I probably need at least—”

“No,” he cuts you off nervously, heat rising to his ears. “No sex. Just to sleep…here. With me?”

When you don’t say anything right away, he wonders if there’s any way he can take back his words and whether you’d believe him if he told you it was all a joke. But then you tug the blanket over both of you, tucking the corners in so the air from the ceiling fan doesn’t reach your cooling skin, and continue running your fingers through his hair.

There’s a warmth in his chest, which he thinks might be what love feels like.

After a moment, you say, “If you steal the blankets, I’m kicking you off the bed.”

Gojo snorts, smiling against your breast. “But it’s my bed.”

You hum. “Yes, and I’ll do it anyway.”

“Just so we’re clear, I’m still going to fuck you later.”

“Go to sleep, Satoru.” He can’t see it but knows you’re smiling, too.

Masterlist

[dixons-sunshine]

I Got Ya Somethin’ | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

“Daryl! What the hell were you thinking?”

Your angered yet worried voice reached the archer’s ears. He winced slightly as the loudness seemed to reverberate off his brain, the pounding in his head making him shut his eyes in an attempt to drown out the pain. When the pain subsided somewhat, he forced himself into a seated position on the bed in the infirmary, his bare feet touching the cold, hard floor. He opened his mouth to speak, to attempt to soothe your worries, but you cut him off.

“Going off on your own like that? Going against what Aaron told you? What Glenn told you? What the fuck were you thinking? You could’ve died! Damnit, Daryl!”

Daryl could hear the pain in your voice. He could see the way you fought to keep the tears at bay, and his heart ached at the sight. You were trying to mask your fear of losing him with anger. He knew that all too well. He masked his fear with anger more than anybody else. However, he needed to get you to calm down. He was fine. He was safe, and he had gotten what he wanted, even if he did suffer a concussion and bruised ribs in the process.

Daryl got up from the bed and closed the distance between the two of you, pulling you into a hug. “C’mere. S’okay.” You didn’t even struggle against his hold. You simply collapsed into his arms, gripping his shirt tightly. That spoke volumes to the archer. He often called you his little spitfire, due to the fact that you never backed down when you were angry with him and wanted to get your point across. You were simply too exhausted from worrying to keep going. “M’sorry. M’so sorry. I didn’t mean to make ya worry.”

You swallowed hard, willing the lump in your throat to go away. “What were you thinking?” you whispered brokenly. “You could’ve died.”

Daryl sighed and rested his chin on top of your head. “Yeah, I know,” he responded. “It was reckless, but I needed to do it. Don’ know when else I would’a gotten the chance to get what I needed.”

You frowned and pulled back. “Get what?”

Daryl’s demeanour considerably changed. He was no longer sporting an understanding, soft look. Instead, he was suddenly extremely nervous, almost sheepish. However, the archer swallowed down the need to brush off your question. This was as good a time as any, he supposed, and after his near death experience, he couldn’t wait.

“I, uh...” He cleared his throat before continuing. “I got ya somethin’.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring—an engagement ring. Your eyes widened at what you saw. A small gasp of surprise left your mouth, and you took a step back. However, before you could say anything, Daryl continued. “Y’know I ain’t good with words or any’a that crap, but ya deserve to know how I feel. Y’know m’crazy for ya. Have been for years. Jus’ figured, y’know, that I might as well grow a pair and pop the big question. So, uh, would ya—y’know...”

You were stunned. Just moments prior, you were ready to tear into your partner for scaring you like that, for risking his life for no reason, but now you knew why he did it. He did it for you. Even if it was for a reason that could’ve waited for a while, he still did it.

You slowly nodded you head, a small smile spreading across your face. “Yes. A million times yes.”

That small confirmation was all Daryl needed. Had it not been for the fact that his ribs were most likely bruised, he would’ve picked you up and spun you around. Instead, he gently took your left hand in his and slipped the ring onto your finger, before pulling you into a soft hug.

A few beats of silence passed until you spoke up again. “Just because I’m really happy right now does not mean I’m not still pissed at you for risking your life.”

Daryl chuckled and pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “Yeah, I wouldn’t want ya any other way.”

[comically-callous]

I am currently OBSESSED with X-Men (thanks Deadpool and Wolverine). And I’m even more obsessed with Kurt Wagner. So, enjoy some headcanons of him. Or don’t. Idc.

Kurt Wagner x gn!reader headcanons

A/n: Hey, freaks. I’m back again. I wrote this at 1 a.m so some of these might get a little silly. Hope you enjoy. Requests are open 🧚‍♀️

Before relationship:

Super touchy with everyone, I feel like we’ve all accepted this as canon. But, if he’s interested in you romantically he’ll be a bit shy about showing physical affection

Like, 100% that doesn’t stop him from hugging you whenever he’s excited or whatever. But, afterwards he’ll pull away, laugh, and give you a meek little “Sorry”

Very worried that he might somehow fumble so hard that you end up hating him

Like, he’ll make you drop your food or something and then worries for the next two days about how you might not like him anymore because of it (meanwhile you probably forgot it even happened lol)

Overall, just afraid of losing you. Like, he’s so scared to make any kind of move on you because what if you don’t like him that way? Now you don’t even wanna be his friend and it’s all his fault!

That being said, if you start giving him hints or signals, he’s probably gonna over analyze all of it.

Tell him you love spending time with him, and he’ll be spending a good 30 minutes just going over any and everything you possibly could’ve meant when saying that.

Be patient with him he’s not used to people being interested in him romantically.

During Relationship:

You tell him about all of the signals you hurled at him that he completely missed and he gets so embarrassed

Sorry, had to get that one out of the way cause I think it’s funny

He loves getting words of affirmation from you. Promoted or unprompted.

If you guys are just chilling and out of nowhere you’re like “You’re such a good boyfriend, Kurt ☺️” Bro, he’s about to get too excited and start doing backflips (/hj)

I fear he would ask “Would you still love me if i was a worm?” Like, in the middle of the night too when you’re both on the verge of passing out.

Loves cuddling. I won’t get too into it because I kinda wanna make a separate post just for cuddling hcs. But, I will say that he doesn’t really care how you guys are cuddling. As long as you’re both comfortable and as long as he gets to be touching you, he’s a happy little guy

He probably thanks God for blessing him with you at least once a day while praying

I feel like he’s the type to tell strangers about you. Whether you’re there or not, doesn’t matter. He just wants people to know that he’s in love and that he has to most lovely partner he could ever hope for ❤️❤️

Ok, I need to go to bed now. Goodnight, Kurt Wagner nation.

[erwinsvow]

i can see the trio dangerously driving to or from a party. they’re speeding down the empty road, the new future album blasting from the speakers of topper’s jeep. kelce is up front, and reader and rafe are in the back. reader is a bit drunk and rafe is high out of his mind and can’t control his feelings for reader so he starts getting touchy with her, maybe trying to kiss her. since you’re just starting this au out, i’m curious to know how do you think reader would react and if she did kiss him back, how would topper and kelce react?

the last line of coke was a mistake—it made him lose the last bits of his self control. it was clear that he was way too high to drive, even though it seemed like rafe always drove clear-headed or not, so you were assigned babysitting duty in the back.

top was on a rager today, even worse than his usual ones. whenever him and sarah started fighting, he got like this, currently blasting some future song at the highest volume possible, speeding through the streets of kildare. you would be a little scared, except kelce is driving while topper nurses yet another beer in the passenger seat. you're deliciously drunk, still gone from the drinks you had at the party, not a care in the world except making sure rafe doesn't keel over in the back.

you mumble along the words to the song, pretty much engraved in your memory from how often it was played. you don't know how it happens, your fingers just find rafe's hair, brushing it out of his face while he talks to top and kelce in the front, amped up and loud, acting as crazy as you've ever seen him. you giggle, continuing your motions.

topper begins some rant about his girlfriend, or rather, his ex, while rafe locks eyes with you. it's hard to keep eye contact, looking away the second rafe shuts up and focuses on you completely. you're never shy around them but this might be the closest you've gotten.

you feel rafe's hands on your exposed thighs, your tiny skirt ridden up in the seat. his touch feels good, in your drunken state you don't think there's anything wrong with it. he's just being friendly, being touchy, being rafe. he strokes the soft skin of your legs, running his hands down to your ankles, while you shift around in the back. all it would take is one look from the boys in the front to see that something's going on back here.

"rafe, listen to top he's talkin-"

"shh," rafe says, noise completely overlooked by the others, nothing audible except the thump of the bass. he takes your face into his hand, leaning in close. "shut up for a second." he kisses you, briefly, barely, lips touching together and your eyes fluttering shut, when kelce slams on the brakes. the two of you fly apart, your heart thudding for an entirely different reason now.

"what the fuck, kelce, my brakes-" top starts.

"it was a deer, you idiot. you guys okay?" he turns to look at you and rafe in the back, your face flushed and rafe's hands still on your legs.

"fine," rafe mumbles. the four of you head back to tannyhill, you crashing on rafe's bed like always while top and kelce take the guest room down the ball. the two of you are out before you can bring it up, but rafe doesn't forget about it.

in the morning, you stretch, the oversized shirt of his you'd put on for the night riding up. rafe doesn't wait another minute.

"so, about last night. in the car." he looks at you, waiting for your response.

"oh, rafe, don't apologize. it's okay. we were both pretty gone."

"m'not apologizin', i-"

"and i mean, who hasn't been there once or twice-"

"once or twice?"

"and i kissed kelce that one time, so i guess-"

"you kissed kelce?" rafe looks at you like you've committed a crime.

"what? it was new years."

"where the hell was i?"

"i don't know, probably sucking some girl's face off. i was busy making out with kelce, remember?" you laugh, getting up and looking for your clothes. rafe lays back down on the bed, deciding he's never leaving you alone with kelce ever again.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Sukuna pretending he's Yuji to catch a taste of you

Pairing: Yuji/Sukuna x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,2k

Synopsis: What you expected after finally meeting your boyfriend after losing him in Shibuya? Definitely not the king of curses trying to kiss you.

Warnings: it's Sukuna so y'know...the usual

“(y/n)?”

Your ears perk up in an instant. Is this really him?

“Yuji?”

He told you to stay behind, that he has to do this on his own despite your pray and plead to stay by his side. If there’s one thing your boyfriend will never risk, it’s your precious life.

“(y/n)!”

Your glossy eyes widen. It’s him, without any doubt.

Like in trance, you follow his voice that calls your name over and over again while a huge wave of relief washes over you. All those horrible things you imagined when he left, the things he told you about Nanami being dead…

In this world, you never know when your last day will be, what words will be the last your loved ones hear.

“Please don’t leave without me, I can’t afford to lose you, I…I love you!”

“I don’t wanna lose you as well, babe. But taking you with me is too much risk when all of them are chasing after me. Just keep your eyes open, okay? I’ll be back before you know.”

Did he really hold up to a promise that is so hard to keep? Your eyes dart around the destroyed area in a haste, desperately searching for those signature pink hair you love to play with.

“(y/n)!”

To your right, maybe a few meters away.

As soon as your head darts towards the sound of his voice, you see him.

There he stands with his clothes torn into pieces and blood smeared onto his face.

You waste no time. Almost instantly your body follows your desire, runs up to him at full speed even though your legs feel like busting under the pressure any given minute. God, you are tired to the brim, too weak for another fight. But now that Yuji’s here, now that you’re finally on your way back into his arms, all of this doesn’t matter.

He catches you in his firm arms like he always does and swings you through the air. Yuji’s back. He really came back. There’s nothing to worry about anymore.

“I was so scared”, you mumble against his shirt, too focused on holding back your tears while taking him in to pay attention to anything else.

“I really thought me might never see each other again…”

“I’ll always come back to you, babe. No curse can ever change that”, he teases you with his usual sweet voice while pressing you firmly against his chest.

“Did they hurt you in anyway? Do you know where Megumi is?”

“Megumi? No, I haven’t heard from him for a while…Are you okay? Your uniform is completely destroyed.”

Who is responsible for this? Who did he fight against? Where is that creature? Are there any other jujutsu sorcerers around? Normally, Yuji shouldn’t even be here. How did he manage to meet you?

“Don’t worry babe, I’m alright”, he reassures you with gentle voice.

Your breath hitches. But not as gentle as usual. Is it possible that…Your eyes widen in sheer horror. No, this can’t be him, it’s impossible that he managed-“

“Smart girl, it took you not as long as expected”, a painfully known voice purrs.

Fuck. In an instant, you try to push yourself off him, to create a safe distance between both of you.

You and none other than Ryomen Sukuna.

“How did you manage to get back?”, you bark at him while his grip around your waist tightens.

This is bad. Absolutely horrible, to be exact. How is it possible that you didn’t notice it was him? You were so relieved to see Yuji again that you didn’t even think about the possibility that this might be Sukuna, that he’s in control over your boyfriend’s body.

“Why are you so sassy? Aren’t you glad to get greeted so nicely by me? I could have ripped your head open as well if I wanted to”, he replies sarcastically.

“Why didn’t you, then?”, you bark back in sheer panic.

“Just…let go of me. And give Yuji back!”

He lets out the most disrespectful and frightening laughter you’ve ever heard while pulling you even closer. Now you see it, that deadly red gleam inside Yuji’s gorgeous orbs.

“Why are you even liking that loser? He’s the most boring guy ever-“

“Pretty bold coming from a serial killer with nothing but hurting others on his mind!”, you cry out in defense.

“When did you turn that cheeky? Weren’t you scared of me a few seconds ago?”

“Yuji would never allow you to hurt me”, you bark at him in pure confidence.

Until he grabs your throat and pushes you against a nearby wall.

“You’re thinking too highly of that little brat. What do you want with a boy who isn’t even able to defend you?”, he almost purrs only inches away from your face.

He isn’t about to kiss you, right? Your eyes widen in sheer horror, body not daring to make a move. This has to be a cruel nightmare, a hallucination, maybe. Are those Sukuna’s lip on their way to meet yours?

“Let go of me right now!”, you finally shriek.

A loud clap echoes through the train station when your flat palm crushes against his cheek.

Oh.

Did you just…

“You have some nerves…”, he mutters while wiping a tiny trail of blood away from the corner of his mouth.

“Did you really just hit me?”

“I…no?”, you stutter, your body automatically stumbling backwards.

“If you think you can escape me you’re a fool, (y/n). I always get what I want”, he hisses through gritted teeth.  

“That doesn’t include me, though. I’m in love with Yuji and not you”, you clarify.

“Too bad I don’t care about your stupid little feelings, brat. If I want you, I will have you. And if you’re not coming with me on your own, I will force you.”

Within the split of a second, he stand right by your side again with his muscular arms trapping you in place.

Your mouth is dry like the desert. Just one glance into his gleaming red eyes is enough for you to realize that the king of curses isn’t to be messed with, that he means what he says.

“You won’t get away with this”, you breathe out.

“Watch me getting through, then.”

He presses his lips against yours before you’re able to stop him.

Tags:

@arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld

@hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen

@magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut 

@mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0

@ynackerman9499 @keepghostly  @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife 

@coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain 

@risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny

@ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr

@sugu-love @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world

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@ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299

@okay-it-is-ivy @paridoliaaa

[tvintedspvrkarc]

𝗟𝗢𝗨𝗜𝗦𝗘 𝗕𝗘𝗟𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗖𝗔𝗠𝗘𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗟 : 1 / ∞

— 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 / 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨 —

[yeonzzzn]

hihi!! perhaps mayhaps enhypen ot6 (still kinda feel weird reading smut on ni-ki 😀⁉️) catching yn masturbating to them (e.g. sees yn with a photo of them or like ,, yn moaning out their name,etc)

i’m gonna write this as hyung line since it’s who I mostly write smut for, hope that’s okay! and yeah no I won’t ever write smut for niki. it’s never happening 🙅🏻‍♀️

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

‎‧₊˚✧[ HEESEUNG ]✧˚₊‧

he would be completely floored. homie would be minding his business, playing a round of LOL with his friends and swearing up and down he kept hearing his name being called. eventually removing one of the earmuffs from his ear to be correct, he was hearing his name being called, coming from you more specifically.

heeseung would quickly stand up and make his way to your room filled with worry thinking something was wrong. but would stop dead in his tracks seeing your bedroom door is cracked open and hearing your lewd sounds coming from the other side of the door. heeseung would peak inside, carefully pushing the door open to seeing you sprawled out on your bed, legs spread so wide and your fingers pumping in and out of your wet cunt quickly, heeseung’s name spilling from your lips in gasped moans, chanting it over and over. heeseung would get hard immediately, his face and ears turning a bright red. loving how you look as you moan out his name. it’s clear that you want him, and oh god he wanted you too. heeseung could interrupt right now, but deciding against it. you looked way to sexy to him to just stop you. heeseung would lean against the doorframe and pull his shorts down past his hips until his hard cock was set free, his hand pumping himself to the same rhythm as your fingers pushing in and out of you. he would eventually lose himself, letting out gasped moans of your name, nearly scaring you to death after finally noticing him, your door now wide open as heeseung slid to the floor, resting his back to your bedroom wall, “don’t stop baby,” he groans, “keep touching yourself for me, I’m so close…please. wanna see you cum with me.” how could you say no?

‎‧₊˚✧[ JAY ]✧˚₊‧

jay wouldn’t be shocked at all most since he would always walk around your shared apartment without a shirt on, always making you so weak in the knees for your roommate. mostly after he finishes showering and has his hair all wet and sticking to his forehead with nothing covering him but a thin towel and seeing the outline of his cock as he quickly walks to his bedroom to get dressed. how could you not touch yourself after seeing that? mostly when it’s a daily occurrence in this apartment. hell, one time he walked back to the bathroom and tied the towel just below his hips to quickly slick his hair back and left the bathroom door open…how could you not snap a quick pic with your phone? it was a godly sight. one to burn into your memory. so obviously you’d use that photo to masturbate in the safety of your room…when jay wasn’t home. except one day he came home early and you didn’t hear him walk in. you left your door wide open, being completely naked on your bed and legs spread apart as your fingers pushed inside you, your free hand holding your phone with the photo of jay and you moaning out his name. of course jay hearing this peaked his curiosity, him snooping to your bedroom and seeing the sight before him, eyes glueing to your slick that spilled from your cunt and pooling at your sheets, eyes eventually moving up to your naked body and then seeing the photo of your phone. you nearly jumped out your skin at feeling jay’s hand wrap around your wrist. he smirked at you, “why did you stop? go on, continue. had no problem fucking yourself to a half naked photo of me, might as well do it with me right here.” jay pinned your hand down to your bed, his free hand shoving down his shorts and taking his cock in hand, “come on now pretty, don’t stop.” you obeyed.

‎‧₊˚✧[ JAKE ]✧˚₊‧

homie wouldn’t know what to do after catching you. he’d be so embarrassed for snooping on you time and time again after the first time but not being able to get enough of hearing how beautifully his name slid from between your lips as you touch yourself. jake would lean against the wall outside your room and fuck up into his fist, biting his tongue to keep from screaming out your name. eventually jake wouldn’t be able to keep quiet anymore, needing to physically see you fuck yourself instead of just hearing it through the thin wall between your two bedrooms or outside your door. jake would be so far gone that he wouldn’t think twice from standing up off the floor and quickly opening your bedroom door, loving that the first thing he sees is your cunt on full display for him, your fingers knuckles deep inside. you’d quickly try and cover yourself, ready to yell at him for being such a pervert until he rushes in and lays down beside you, already making work of pushing off his jeans and positioning his cock in hand, “masturbate with me honey,” he says, making direct eye contact, “you had zero problem moaning my name for weeks. I wanna hear you scream my name as you cum, I’ll cum with you,” jake would start to pump himself, mouth slack as he kept looking into your eyes, “fuck you’re so pretty, touch yourself for me honey, moan my name.” jake looked way to hot like this to not continue pushing your fingers in and out your cunt. both of you were a moaning mess until a mixture of both your cum stained your bedsheets.

‎‧₊˚✧[ SUNGHOON ]✧˚₊‧

home boy would be on such a power trip hearing you moan out his name in the middle of the night as you touch yourself. he’d be laying in bed smirking so fucking hard at the pure fact he doesn’t even have to be the one touching you to get you screaming out his name. sunghoon would be confused at first, thinking he was just hearing things and eventually drifting off to sleep until he heard you moan out his name and he knew he wasn’t hearing things. you indeed were moaning his name while you masturbated. it would give sunghoon such an ego boost. he already knew he was hot shit, but after hearing your pretty voice scream for him? it only made it worse. sunghoon would also be so fucking turned on by it. he couldn’t lie and say he never jerked himself off to you, he was very much attracted to you, he just didn’t think you felt the same and now that he knows you do, you aren’t safe from him. sunghoon would quickly pull himself out of bed and make his way to your bedroom, pressing his ear gently to the wood of your door, waiting to confirm you are indeed still moaning out his name. once that confirmation was cleared, he wouldn’t hesitate to just open your door, crossing his arms and smirking at how you look on your bed, completely naked as you continued to fuck yourself, staring deeply into his eyes. you were so close to finishing and even though you were embarrassed to have been caught, your need to cum outweighed it. “how cute,” he coos, “getting caught moaning my name and still going? that’s so fucking hot,” he would then make his way into your bedroom, towering over you and sliding his hand on top of yours, helping you push your fingers inside your cunt faster, “looks like you need some help, princess. I’ll make you cum hard, don’t worry.

[luveline]

Hi I have a request for zombie Steve! I’d love to hear the story of how they met 🫶🏻

zombie!au —You rescue Steve at the start of the end of the world. fem, 2.4k

The sound of them makes your throat close up. Fear like a knife held too tight in unwilling hands, the heat. It’s the hottest summer Hawkins’ has had for years, and you’re overdressed. You couldn’t fit your favourite hoodie in your bag so you wore it but it doesn’t matter, you lost your bag somewhere in the school gymnasium. You’re lucky you didn’t lose your leg when that thing grabbed you. What were they calling them on the radio? Something starting with G.

Those… things, they can kill people. You saw it just ten minutes ago, your algebra teacher turned to a creature, Maisie Lewinsky from your homeroom stained with gore under her hands.

You press the back of your hand to your mouth to stifle a hot gasp. What are you supposed to do now? The Hawkins station said everyone would be waiting here, a repeat radio message, but by the time you heard it the sun was going down and there was nobody left. No cars, no promised convoy, nobody.

You’re the last living girl left in Hawkins.

You’re gonna die in here.

Terrified of breathing to loud but spooked that staying will seal your fate, you lift yourself up from the floor of the science lab to peer over a high table. There’s no signs of life. No signs of the dead, either. You’d thought this might be a good place to hide, the thick fire door unbreakable, but you can’t stay here. It’ll be dark soon.

You wish you had your stuff. They’ve for sure taken anything worth eating from the cafeteria kitchens and Bradley’s has been empty for days. You aren’t sure where your next meal is coming from. Fuck, you’re already dead—

“Fuck!” a voice echoes, boyish and terrified from somewhere outside of the door. “Fuck! Get the fuck away from me, holy shit!”

He sounds scared but firm at the same time. Your own fear is like the insufferable heat, riding the back of your neck as you creep toward the door. There’s gotta be more of them outside. That must be why whoever it is that’s shouting sounds so depeserate. But fuck, there’s relief too. There’s someone still here.

“Fuck! Jesus, help me!”

“Okay,” you say unsurely.

You wedge open the door to the science lab and poke your head out cautiously. There’s a dull thudding sound somewhere to the left, metallic screeching further down, but the panicked shouting (and now panicked yelping) is coming from outside.

You look around for a weapon. There’s nothing to take.

“Holy fuck I do not wanna die!”

Me neither, you think, sniffling back your worried tears. You don’t wanna die, you just want your bed. You want to be home, and safe, but there’s no one to look after you anymore, and you can’t just let people die ‘cos you’re scared. You run from the science lab to the fire escape door full pelt, arm in sudden hot pain at the collision, but the door gives and swings hard into the adjourning wall. You look around frantically for the source of the shouting as it bounces off of the exterior walls of the school and the stone floor of the courtyard, heart suddenly afloat in your chest.

“Hello?” you shout. “I’m here, I’m–”

“What the fuck!”

It’s said with such horrified anger that you give pause, even as your hands shake, cold sweat wetting your lip and colder in the rare afternoon breeze. You dart toward the shouting a moment later, and maybe you’re too late, you can’t save anybody, your shoes pinch as you race down the few concrete steps that lead to the parking lot.

Snarling curdles the air. Your neck snaps left, away from the cars and open territory and toward the subject of your nightmares these last few days. You’ve seen glimpses of these things, always too scared to stay and help, always too stupid, too weak, and seeing them now cements it.

A group of geeks grab at a boy where he hangs from the bars of a metal staircase leading up to the roof of the building. You run toward it on instinct but stop before they hear you, eyes wide. His hands are white-knuckled, his hair falling down into his face, but you know who it is now you’re close enough to see him. You could recognise Steve Harrington a thousand feet away.

“Hey!” you shout. “Hey! Over here!”

Why did you say that? Why are you yelling? The geeks turn their heads to easier pray and you’re done for —they start to run. You stumble back in terror.

“My bag! Get my bag, get the knife!” Steve shouts.

You swing yourself around in a huge circle. There, further into the lot, lies a bag. Further past it lies a wooden baseball bat spiked with fifty silver nails.

You sprint past the bag to the bat and try to grab it while you’re still running, knees grazing hot white fire on the tarmac and hands like acid as you force yourself up again, running further, putting space between you and the too fast footsteps that follow. When you’re sure you’ll have room you swing to see them, their maws dripping gore over white buttoned shirts and once prim blouses. There must be ten of them at least. Only two stay to snap their jaws at Steve Harrington where he attempts to climb up the stairs from the bottom, his foot dangerously close to bloodied teeth.

You pull the bat back as the first of the creatures reaches you. With a grunt more terror than exertion, you force the bat forward, wood arcing through the air, shiny nails catching the light of the setting sun and slamming downward into flesh.

Your eyes flare as wide as they’ve ever been. The geek stops cold and drops, your strangling grip on the bat forcing it up out of the mash of his brains. Another geek leaps over him as you scramble back.

“Run!” Steve yells from the stairs, stress stretching his voice thin and high. “Run away!”

You drop the bat and sprint for your life. Down into the parking lot, past a handful of locked cars and suitcases discarded. This must’ve been where everybody was before they left. There couldn’t have been room. Boxes and trophies, books, magazines and toys, all manner of possessions string like a breadcrumb trail down the road that you have to avoid. You run until your calves are burning over the road that will lead toward Hawkins middle, where you throw yourself into the woods, and hope without any real hope that they’re empty.

Grass folds under your feet. Your panting is as loud as your heart.

When the only shallow breathing you can hear is your own, you circle back to the High School, sticking to the shadows so as not to attract any more attention. A few geeks have collected to join the two you’d left behind, and for a second you’re sure Steve’s succumbed to fatigue and fallen into their blackened clutches, but you spot him balancing dangerously on a handrail between two sets of stairs, leg pulled back in preparation to kick any opposition away.

You sweep up the bat and try to make a plan. You were never going to be able to handle that many people before, not with their new mutations, but you can handle four. Maybe. Probably not.

“Steve, what do I do?” you call. “You have to tell me what to do.”

“You came back!” He swears and shimmies further up the railing as one of his attackers finally manages to traverse the blocked up staircase. “I don’t know what to do! Just hit at them until they die!”

It’s easy for him to say. They’re gruesome creatures, the faces of people you once knew but none of their humanity. They can run as fast as any person can. A human bite has alarming force behind it. The voice on the radio warned you that what you’re trying to do is a bad idea, and yet. You roll the bat in your hand. Your chest aches as hard as your dry throat.

The first geek goes down easy. Unsuspecting, you manage to whack it in the back of the head hard and break through soft skull. The second turns to see you just as you’re lifting the bat again, and it runs hard into it as it comes down, killing itself.

The third is where things get tricky.

“Fuck,” you mumble, lifting your bat to find a sloughing of cartilage and tissue stuck between the spines. “Oh, fuck,” you moan.

“Be careful!” Steve shouts.

You step back and trip, nearly falling. “Stay away from me!”

It snarls in response. Eyes clouded, the geek is a little slower than the others, and it follows you sluggishly away from Steve. The fourth remains, snapping, but you can’t keep watch.

“Stay away from me!” you warn again.

Steve swears on the railing, his cursing followed by a wet thunk.

The geek doesn’t listen, it bites.

You pull your arms to the side, hands wrapped tight around the base of the bat and ready to swing. With a huge, aching cry, you swing the bat to the side and knock the nails clean into its cheek.

It doesn’t die.

Fuck fuck fuck! You throw yourself to the floor by the geek’s feet and out of its reach, on knees, on your feet again, scrambling toward Steve’s bag. You glance over your shoulder as your knees slam down hard into the floor, never so scared in your life, horrified as the bat stays stuck between tendons and the geek takes a running jump toward you.

You pull the knife from Steve’s bag and hold it out in front of you, squeezing your eyes closed in terror.

“Fuck, hey!”

You scream as the weight of the geek lands on top of you. You scream like it’s taking bites of you, until your throat burns and there’s no sound left to make and you choke on it instead. A short, sharp sound.

Then the weight is pulled off of you. Someone lets out a massive gasp.

“Did it get you?”

You blink your eyes open against the glaring white sun where it meets the horizon. If you’re crying, it’s your business, water on your cheek and a dizzy hot feeling everywhere else.

Steve Harrington looks at you like you’re a ghost. “Did it get you? Are you okay?”

You look at your hand and the knife —his knife— where it rests on the tarmac. “I don’t think so. How do you know?”

“They bite! Did it bite you?”

“I don’t know.”

“How can you not know?”

“Because I’m not exactly uninjured, Steve!”

He frowns at you. Well, he glares. “You’d know if it bit you. Don’t be dense.”

“How am I supposed to know?”

“You’re telling me you don’t know what a bite feels like?”

“Some of us had homework.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Is that supposed to be funny?”

Well, yeah. It was supposed to be hilarious.

You look around the parking lot and the school courtyard for any outliers, but the school seems well and truly abandoned now. You can’t hear anymore huffing or screeching, no crying, not even the sound of a radio. Everyone’s been playing them nonstop for weeks, waiting for days like today. Suddenly the raptures here, and you aren’t part of the rescue.

But you saved Steve Harrington, at least. You’re accruing some good karma.

Steve doesn’t hold his hand out, he just grabs you under the arms and pulls you up into a standing position. You’re surprised he can do it, you aren’t light, but you remember his last skins game in the gymnasium and nod to yourself. Of course he can pick you up. Plus, you help, using your legs despite their stiffness to brace yourself on the ground.

“Doesn’t look like it bit you,” he says, quieter now, his hands sliding down to yours briefly before he stands back. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought this was the rendezvous point. I mean, it was, right? We missed it.”

“We missed it.”

“How’d you get here?” you ask.

“Bike. Car chose the worst possible time in the world to die. Not that I could’ve got gas.” He eyes you hopefully. “Tell me you drove here.”

“I biked too, but it’s gone.”

“Gone?”

“Tire popped.”

Steve rubs his eyebrows. His hands are clean where yours are caked. You stand unable to mask your heavy breathing now, and when you reach for him to steady yourself, he doesn’t move away.

“Sorry,” you mumble, licking your lips. You’re a map of little pains. “Are you okay?”

Steve’s hand reaches back to cover yours like he’s going to pull it off, though he doesn’t. “Are you alone?” he asks.

You wince. “Yeah.”

“Where’s your stuff?”

“I lost it.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know.” Your knees hurt. “It’s gonna get dark soon.”

It’s a question. You’re immediately thankful to have found him, because he’s a real living person, and you don’t think you can do this alone. You don’t mean to force him, but you need to know what he’s doing and soon.

“…Better come with me, then,” he says finally.

Steve walks out of your grasp, grabbing up his bag which you’d unfortunately ripped open and shoving the spilled contents back inside. He doesn’t stop to zip it closed, walking straight in the direction of the school.

“Where are we going?”

“Same place as everybody else.” You stumble. Steve, reluctant, frowning hard enough to etch a new wrinkle, holds out his hand to catch you by the elbow. “Where did you think?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” you say, half-indignant.

“You ask a lot of stupid questions, you know that?” He looks you up and down. “How’d you do that?” He points at your bleeding knees.

“I ask stupid questions?”

He grabs the bat from near the felled geek and stands tall. “Jesus. Let’s go find a car.”

It’s not as easy as his tone might suggest. You don’t find a car, you never do, and you never stop asking him obvious questions, but Steve says thank you for saving him eventually (nearly an entire year later, with a hand on your cheek).

[awkward-walking-potato]

could you write a Logan x reader fic where the reader gets injured during a mission (they’re already passed out due to the amount of blood loss at the time) and Logan carries them to safety to then patch and help them, perchance 👉👈?

think of it like a ‘you scared me, I love you and I can’t lose you’ confession when the reader wakes up (and tries to brush off the fact that they got injured). Thanks Potato ;)

You Scared Me

The sounds of battle echoed in the distance, metal clashing with metal, explosions reverberating in the air. But all Logan could hear was the sound of his own breathing—labored, frantic—as he looked down at your unconscious form lying in a pool of blood. His heart clenched painfully in his chest as he knelt beside you, taking in the sight of the deep wound that had knocked you out. The smell of blood was overwhelming, but it wasn’t just the scent that was getting to him. It was the sight of you, limp and pale, so far gone that you hadn’t even been able to cry out for help.

"C'mon, kid," Logan muttered under his breath, gritting his teeth. "You’re stronger than this. You’re gonna be fine."

He scooped you up into his arms, cradling you against his chest. The heat of your blood seeped into his shirt, making him feel like time was running out. He had to get you back—had to get you patched up before it was too late.

Logan moved as fast as he could without jostling you too much, his heart pounding harder with each step. His mind raced with every worst-case scenario, every thought of what might happen if he didn’t get to you in time. The thought of losing you—it was too much to bear.

He reached the Blackbird, and with swift, practiced movements, set you down on a makeshift med table in the back. His hands trembled as he worked to stop the bleeding, tying off makeshift bandages, pressing down hard to stem the flow. Every second felt like an eternity, his mind swirling with thoughts of how he should’ve protected you better—how he should’ve seen the attack coming.

After what felt like forever, the bleeding slowed. You were stable, for now, but still unconscious. Logan sat beside you, hands stained with your blood, his jaw clenched tightly. He hadn’t felt this kind of fear in a long time, and it shook him to his core.

Hours passed before you stirred, eyes fluttering open. Your head was heavy, and everything felt numb at first. Slowly, your vision cleared, and you found yourself staring at the metal ceiling of the Blackbird. A dull ache throbbed in your side, and you groaned softly.

"You’re awake," Logan’s gruff voice came from beside you.

Turning your head, you found him sitting next to you, his arms crossed but his face etched with concern. His eyes, usually guarded and tough, were soft as they roamed over your face, like he was checking to make sure you were really alright.

"Logan," you whispered, trying to sit up, but your body protested. "What happened?"

He reached out, gently pressing you back down onto the table. "Stay still. You got hurt—bad. Took a hit during the mission, lost a lot of blood."

You blinked, trying to remember. Flashes of the fight came back to you—the enemy, the explosion, the sharp pain in your side—but it was all a blur. "I’m fine," you said, your voice hoarse as you tried to play it off. "Just... a scratch."

"A scratch?" Logan’s voice was sharp, disbelief evident. He shook his head, his expression hardening. "You nearly bled out. Don’t you dare brush this off like it was nothing."

His tone surprised you, and you glanced up at him, seeing the tension in his body, the way his fists clenched and unclenched like he was barely holding himself together. You’d never seen him like this before—so rattled, so... scared.

"Logan," you started softly, but he cut you off.

"You scared me," he said, his voice quieter now, but no less intense. He leaned forward, his eyes locking onto yours. "You scared the hell outta me, darlin’. I thought I lost you."

The weight of his words hit you, and you were left speechless. Logan—the unshakeable, invulnerable Wolverine—had been afraid for you? You tried to reach for his hand, but your body still felt weak.

"I’m sorry," you whispered, guilt creeping into your voice. "I didn’t mean to—"

"Stop," he growled, softer this time. His hand found yours, holding it tightly. "Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault."

He paused, his jaw working as if he was trying to find the right words. When he spoke again, his voice was thick with emotion. "I can’t lose you. Not like this... not ever."

Your heart skipped a beat, and you stared up at him, your breath catching in your throat. "Logan, I—"

"I love you," he said, cutting you off again, his voice raw. "I love you, and I don’t give a damn if you’re tryin’ to be tough or brush it off. You mean too much to me. I can’t—I won’t—lose you."

The confession hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. You could see it in his eyes—the fear, the love, the desperation. Logan, the man who never showed weakness, was laying his heart bare for you.

You swallowed hard, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. "I love you too," you whispered, your voice shaky but sincere.

Logan let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. His grip on your hand tightened, and he leaned down, pressing his forehead gently against yours. "You’re not goin’ anywhere, you hear me?" he murmured, his voice a soft growl.

You nodded, your eyes closing as you let yourself lean into him, feeling the warmth and safety of his presence. "I hear you."

Logan stayed close, his hand never leaving yours as he watched over you, his heart finally calming now that you were awake. He didn’t say much after that, but his touch—his steady, grounding presence—said everything you needed to hear.

And as the pain faded and exhaustion took over, you let yourself drift off, knowing that Logan would be there to catch you every time.

[faithfulren]

mr. loverman

izuku midoriya has always been the pillar of hope and courage. but even heroes have their moments of vulnerability.

based on the song 'mr. loverman by ricky montgomery'

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

the hero society had its golden boy, izuku midoriya, the symbol of peace in training. to the world, he was the epitome of bravery and selflessness. but to you, he was simply izuku, the boy who loved too hard and carried too many burdens.

the dormitory was unusually quiet that night. the moonlight cast a somber glow through the window as you walked down the hallway. you paused in front of Izuku’s door, hesitating.

you knocked softly. “izuku? can i come in?”

his voice, usually so full of life, sounded hollow. “yeah, come in.”

you pushed the door open to find him sitting on his bed, eyes red-rimmed and glassy. he clutched a photo frame, his fingers tracing the outline of the picture inside. it was a photo of him with his mother, back when things were simpler, back when he didn't have the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“are you okay?” you asked, even though you already knew the answer.

izuku looked up at you, forcing a small, sad smile. “just…thinking.”

you sat beside him, close enough to offer comfort but far enough to give him space. “about what?”

he sighed, the sound heavy with unshed tears. “everything. being a hero, protecting everyone…sometimes it feels like too much. like I’m drowning.”

your heart ached for him. you reached out, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “you don’t have to carry it all alone, izuku. we’re all here for you.”

he shook his head, his eyes filling with tears. “but i’m the one who has to be strong. i’m the one who’s supposed to save everyone. what if i can’t?”

“izuku, it’s okay to feel like this. it’s okay to not be okay all the time,” you whispered, your own voice breaking.

he looked at you, vulnerability etched in every line of his face. “i’m scared,” he admitted. “i’m scared of failing, of losing everyone i care about. of losing you.”

"what am i supposed to do without you?"

your breath hitched. you had always been close, but this was the first time he had voiced such deep fears. “you won’t lose me, izuku. i promise.”

he broke then, sobbing quietly as you pulled him into your arms. you held him tightly, offering silent comfort as he let out all the pain he had been holding in.

“it’s okay,” you murmured, stroking his hair. “i’m here. i’ll always be here.”

in that moment, you vowed to be his anchor, his support. because even heroes needed someone to lean on.

the dawn was breaking when izuku finally fell asleep, exhaustion overtaking his grief. you stayed by his side, watching over him, your heart heavy but determined. you knew the road ahead would be tough, but you were ready to face it with him.

as the first rays of sunlight streamed through the window, you whispered a silent promise. “we’ll get through this together, izuku. i believe in you.”

the world might see him as a hero, but to you, he was more than that. he was izuku, the boy who loved deeply, who cared fiercely. and you would stand by him, no matter what.