#HIS FUCKING KICKED PUPPY EXPRESSION

[incesthemes]

holy shit this is a GREAT scene overall, but i'm particularly blown away by this moment here. for all dean talks about family, i love how he always, always, always comes back to sam above all others, including his own mother.

they've been claiming that both sam and dean were tortured by toni, and yeah sure they were, but let's be entirely honest: sam took on the overwhelming burden of that torture. dean got roughed up and it could have gotten worse, but sam did endure the worse. and i'm sure dean knows it, because dean always knows. he's deeply and shamefully aware of just what sam has been through at all times.

and sam and dean have no other real reason to refuse the british men of letters beyond their experience with toni. yet because of that dean is creating a false sense of tribalism here: us or them. mary chose the "them" which is a betrayal of the "us" and therefore she's no longer part of the family (not mom, mary).

so now dean is here dominating the argument and rejecting mary. in essence, he's choosing sam over mary here. sam's negative (understatement) experience with the BMoL trumps whatever rationale mary could have for working with them; dean won't even hear her out. it's shockingly black and white for a guy who claims to put so much stock into the idea of family (that's a deconstruction for another day). but it's because sam was hurt by these guys, so these guys are an enemy. and a friend of an enemy is an enemy, even if they were family.

what i love about this is how easily dean steps into the protector role and stands up for sam, even at the expense of ruining his relationship with his mother. he did this with john in season 1, he continues it now. sam is always placed above anyone else in his family, no matter what. mary is supposedly what dean wanted the most, according to amara, and now he's rejecting her because sam's well-being is more important than his relationship with his mom.

and what i love even more about this is that sam just sits there and lets dean defend him. i love that the camera flickers to sam silently watching as dean chews her out, his expression open and hurt. it's very vulnerable and little-brother of him, and i'll bet it means a lot to him that dean is playing mama bear on his behalf—if it didn't, he would stand up for himself, or say anything in this conversation at all. i'll bet it's especially meaningful because sam has stood in exactly mary's spot before, dean getting all tribalistically self-righteous on him for getting friendly with demons. and now dean is defending him just as vehemently over something so (tragically) mundane as torture. it's nothing sam hasn't been through before, but dean won't stand for it regardless, and sam lets him. he sits there in the chair while dean and mary stand as opposing forces. he looks up at them and watches them battle it out and he doesn't say a word. he's on dean's side of the table—dean's side of the argument—and he has nothing to say, for himself, for mary, for dean. he's just letting his big brother take care of him.

and then at the very end, when mary turns on him and forces him into the argument, all sam has to say is "you should go." echoing dean, supporting dean. and his eyes are teary and hurt. nothing to add, nothing to say for himself. just fully and totally coddled by dean. that's so delicious and so, so cathartic to witness after all of the times sam has been the "wrong" or "bad" one. to see dean defending and protecting his little brother to such an extent that he's giving up the thing he apparently wanted most. choosing sam over everything else. how meaningful that would be to sam, who struggles to believe how much dean truly loves him. i'm going to be sick

[on-the-clear-blue]

Dead Man's Diner drabbles since I need to get back into writing it.

Robber, bursting through the door, gun already pulled out and shouting: EVERYBODY PUT YOUR FUCKING HANDS UP AND OPEN UP YOUR WALLETS

The whole God damn Batfam just looking up from their respective places in the diner:..

Danny, behind the counter, tired as hell from basically taking over feeding them all: Take the fucking shot.

---

Nightwing, laying dramatically over the breakfast bar as Danny walks in, a rose between his teeth: Hi~ I need to place an order

Danny, woke up 15 minutes ago: It is to early for this (it's 7 pm)

Nightwing, watching as Dany just turns around and leaves the diner: Wait no.

---

Bart/Wally/Berry, finally done helping their respective Bat with Gotham Things ™️, stumbling upon the Diner:Sweet, no need to run back home on empty!

Danny, seeing the one that he has seen Clockwork scream about walk into his diner: shit I gotta make a call.

(15 Minutes later)

Bart/Wally/Berry crying into a massive plie of pancakes as Clockwork reads them yo filth.

---

Wes, grumbling as he is kicked out of the diner for the fifth time this week: God damn it Fenton! Stopping hiding your ghostly existence! The people demand the truth!

Bernard, there because Tim recommended it, trying and failing to hit taking him there for a date, head snapping over to Wes like a horror movie: I sense a conspiracy theory.

---

Cass, squating on a bar stool: *pouting face*

Danny, squinting at her: No.

Cass, looking up at him with the most hurt expression: *kicked puppy look*

Danny, feeling terrible:Okay! Okay I will get Cujo to come over! A-and I will throw in Ellie!

Cass, breaking unto a smile: and hot coco?

Danny, fully broken by her: Sure, why the hell not.

---

Tucker and Sam, finally coming into the diner: honestly? Not as bad as I thought it would be.

(A Bat getting chucked through the door, and Rouge following after)

Tucker:Holy...is he okay?

Sam: I take back what I said.

Danny, looking at the property damage:Nope...nope this is normal, Red Hood your tab just doubled.

Jason, fully concussed: Sure thing...babe...

---

Based on an idea I have for later on, Jason and Danny are in the middle stage between friends and Dating and Jason finally gets to meet the other two of the everlasting trio...

Sam, has a baseball bat in hand that is starting to sprout out branches: You hurt Danny and you'll end up dead again, and this time you won't have the hands to dig your way out.

Tucker, with sparks flashing in his eyes and a grin on his face, his PDA blinks with info that no civilian should have: Jason Peter Todd-Wayne, I know all about you, mess things up with Danny and your Pride and Prejudice Self insert fanfiction gets shared with your family, as well as your Wattpad and Tumblr accounts will be sent directly to the Justice Leauge.

Jason, crying a little bit:Danny your friends are terrifying.

Danny, walking out in a pink apron:Oh shit...ugh, Sam! Tucker! I told you dont do that!.

---

Vlad, being a creep to Danny: Oh little badger...truly looking forward to seeing you begging for your life once more

Jason, equidded with Fenton works guns: Anyway I started Blasting.

[iiwaijime]

HONEYMOON PHASE — A. MIYA

cws; swearing, gn?reader but it gives fem to me even tho theres not descriptions of reader or gendered pet names, married life, tooth rotting fluff, yeah.

wc; 605

"'s it too late," atsumu's voice is muffled and his words slurred as he speaks, face buried in your shoulder.

"mm?" you respond sleepily, not really listening to him. strong tan arms are wrapped around your middle, and you absentmindedly curl your fingers into his untoned bleached hair. he purrs at the feeling, pulling you closer to him so he can press his mouth to your neck, grinning lazily. you make a slight noise of protest as you feel his teeth against your neck, and then he bites you, really bites you, to make you shut up.

"mmh, leave the jackals, y'know? fuck 'em, i could become a hermit or a monk or somethin'."

a drowsy, surprised giggle bubbles out of you, and his smile widens in response. he likes making you laugh.

"tsumu," you say, and he realises with glee that you still have your rough, lower-than-usual, sexy morning voice. "tsumu, monks can't get married, i think. and they have to be bald."

he groans, but you're not sure which one it's in response to. switching tactics, you half-heartedly try to push him off you.

"lemme stay here," he whines. "i love you, i wanna—"

"tsumu, no," you chide him, and he quiets down like a kicked puppy. raising his head, he pulls your left hand to his lips and presses a kiss to the spot just above your wedding ring before he gets up with a sleepy yawn.

"five years into our marriage and you still don't let me sleep in," he says with a pout.

you ignore him, pausing mid-movement to admire his sculpted figure and the way his body moves as he transfers his wedding ring from his finger to the chain around his neck. when he notices you looking, a bright, boyish grin lights up his face. "can't risk losing it," he tells you, still smiling. you can't help but mirror his expression with your own giddy, lovestruck smile.

you're fixing up breakfast in the kitchen when he comes in, although he's still not dressed to leave yet. you turn to him, smiling when he nuzzles his face into yours. "baby, can i drive you t'work?"

you shake your head, hands coming up to cup his face. "you're already running late, love."

he rolls his eyes in response, angling his head to kiss your palm. "baby, best friend, love of my fuckin' life. is it such a crime to want to spend more time with you?"

"we have all the time in the world, tsumu," you say. "eat quick and go."

"not leaving the house without you," he says sulkily. "they can practice without their favourite setter for a bit."

"favourite? that's debatable," you tease, sitting down next to him with your own breakfast. atsumu kisses your knuckles again with a sly grin, ignoring your dig at him. "but i'm your favourite setter."

"you're my favourite everything," you say, and then you laugh as the red spreads across his cheeks and his nose and the tips of his ears. your breakfasts remain untouched as he leans in to kiss all over your face in a bid to distract you.

"are you flirting with me, y/n l/n?" he asks.

"maybe," you reply, still laughing.

he shuts you up with a kiss. "what if we skip work today?"

"and do what, exactly?"

"laze around, y'know. i just want to stay with you, spend some time together."

"hmm." you pretend to think, but your mind is already made up. "i dunno..."

he kisses your palm, and then your wrist. "please?"

you've never been able to resist those stupid puppy eyes, anyways.

I HATE THIS ITS SO HAPPY. kmsing. drop a like, rb and or comment if u liked this 🤔🤔 husband atsumu u could fix me

[6ronze]

𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

love & deepspace w ZAYNE warnings. nsfw. mdni. fem!reader. orgasm denial. lots of praise(good girl, etc). brief cockwarming. jealous and mean zayne. zayne gaslighting you into thinking you’re not fucking him good enough. sylus mention. summary. zayne gets jealous when he finds out you’ve been hanging out with sylus. not much plot or build up.

author’s note. kinda half-baked but i like the idea of zayne getting pissed off & a small reminder to us zayne to sylus converters

“So you thought it was funny to go with Sylus on a little auction date on our night?” Zayne grimaced, his hands tight on your waist as he questioned you, his eyes staring deep into yours with his brows creased.

You fucked up. Royally.

You thought that going out with Sylus this morning was a good idea since you usually spend your nights with Zayne, knowing he would rarely ever truly be available during business hours. But what you didn’t know was that Zayne would text you asking about dinner tonight. You were having so much fun with Sylus that you didn’t check your phone until you two parted ways. And how you regretted doing so.

Now you were in your boyfriend’s lap, who was the most jealous, and angriest you’ve seen so far in your years of knowing him.

“It wasn’t a date. And.. it’s not really our night specifically when there’s no occasion..” you tried reasoning, a hand placed on your man’s bare chest that peeked from his loose robe. You noticed his eyes only narrowed further.

“Every night is our night, my love,” Zayne so bluntly countered, his tone speaking in a matter-of-fact manner as if you’ve broken the norm of some routine. In a way, you certainly did.

“I..” you uttered, your parted lips closing with your failed attempt to defend yourself. He quirked a brow at you once your eyes lowered, averted your gaze from his with utter guilt. Zayne almost wanted to scoff at your pitiful state but he held it in, scolding himself for finding you adorable instead.

“I’ll forgive you. As always,” he finally spoke after a moment of silence he gave you to use your excuses to the fullest—though you failed.

“But that doesn’t mean you get to leave this night unscathed, my dear,” zayne’s soothing voice added with a hint of menace, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips further. The sharp sensation made you squirm slightly in discomfort, your eyes darting up at him briefly with a whine leaving your lips as if to garner his mercy.

“Oh, please. Don’t look at me like a kicked puppy,” he coldly clicked his tongue, his head tilting to the side as he stared at you with his sharp gaze. “You’d look much better like a rabbit in heat instead,”

“Fuck, baby, not like that,” he groaned, his big palms planted on your hips tightly and guiding you to ride his cock.

Everything seemed to displease him and it brought you to the brink of tears at how cruel he was being to you. Your thighs were slick with your mixed juices and your cunt was nearly overstimulated with how much he was you reposition and restart on fucking yourself on him. Despite it all, you were still so desperate, not wanting to cum until you were sure you made him feel good.

You cursed him for his excessive effort on maintaining his poker face tonight, knowing damn well your lover was fragile to intimate touches, and incredibly expressive in bed. But now he was being so cold-hearted, stoic like the man he led others to see him as.

“Zayne, please, tell me you feel good already. Your cock says the opposite of your words,” you mumbled between sobs and moans, not sure if your sentence made sense as you kept on slipping your cunt up and down his thick length, feeling it throb around your velvety walls. Your hands curled to fist his robe, positioning yourself better on his lap to fuck him ‘better’.

“Mmh.. no. Not good enough,” was he grunted between his heavy breaths, his pupils clearly dilated in pleasure and his expression nearly breaking into one of need but controlling himself to maintain a displeased frown. He couldn’t hide arousal entirely. He still bit his lower lip and had his eyes fixated on your bare pussy that slid down his hard cock so easily, enchanted by the sight of your nectar making his shaft wetter than the last thrust.

“What’s wrong? Don’t tell me this is the best you can do, my love,” zayne taunted, shutting you and your whines up by roughly pulling you down onto his cock with heavy pants, low growls leaving his throat when your tits jiggled while he made you fuck him right. He gripped on your hips tighter, squeezing your flesh and making your grind onto him once he made sure his cock was fully nestled inside you, a breathless yet needy curse slipping off his tongue at the feeling of your walls clenching around him, spasming as if pleading him to continue on fucking that naughty cunt of yours so you could finally cream on his cock. As much as it tempted him, he held back, for now.

“Now? Please? Zayne..”

Your whimpers and pleas were like music to his ears, something he couldn’t get enough of. He made you cockwarm his cock still, subtly making you grind into him. His lips curled a faint smirk, his narrowed eyes finally lifting to look at the mess that was your face. In a twisted way of his own, he liked that he gave the illusion that weren’t fucking him properly, even though you were. God, you were.

“.. Fine,” he finally conceded with heavy breath, his hazel green eyes staring into yours with an intensity that told you weren’t totally off the hook.

“If you promise to inform me when you’re hanging out with bastards that aren’t me beforehand. Can you do that for me, pretty girl?” was all he had to say to have you nodding your head continuous, your swollen lips parting to breath out a soft cry of relief when he finally began lifting your hips up, your thighs working in tandem to fuck yourself on him again like you wanted.

Zayne’s fingers moved to secure his hold on your hips further until he was practically clawing onto your skin with his frantic movements to fuck you faster. You had your nails clawing onto him as well, your heart skipping with joy when you felt his own hips bucking up into you, reciprocating your thrusts and showing some sign that he was feeling it as much you were, signs that made sure you were making him feel good too.

“Yes, baby, fuck—cum for me, my good girl,” zayne encouraged, his breath hitching in his throat with his head slightly thrown back against the the backrest of the armchair now that was inching closer to his orgasm. Your name left his lips like a mantra along with praises that you long awaited for, every syllable urging you on. With a few more frenzied thrusts from both you, he finally spilled his hot seed inside you, the sensation of the warm fluid filling you up triggering your own climax that made your entire body tremble, your hands gripping onto him tightly and vice versa.

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?” You heard him murmur by your ear now that you’ve collapsed onto him, your head rested on his shoulder. Zayne’s lips brushed against the top of your head with his arms wrapped around you in a secure embrace, his thumb rubbing your skin in soothing circular motions to calm you down.

“You didn’t even let me apologise,” your voice rumbled against his skin, your lips puffing to a pout and your brows furrowing to a playful pout.

“That’s because I know you’ll always be sorry. I don’t have to convince you to,” zayne scoffed by your ear, a knowing smirk on his face as he looked down at you. He knew he didn’t really have to scold you for straying. Since you’d always come back to him eventually.

[demonslayerunhinged]

I love how Sanemi tried so hard to make his face devoid of any emotion when he was telling our baby Genya to basically kick rocks.

But when Genya looks down due to sadness, his expression changes to one of panic like 'shit! what do I do now?', 'he's brought out the puppy eyes! and he's pouting!', 'shit! what else can I say?!'

Do i:

a.) give baby bro a hug and tell him I love him and that I don't want him to get hurt?

b.) drop the tough guy act and admit that I was hurt by his words but that I understand and have forgiven him?

c.) drive that emotional knife further because fuck all that emotional sincerity bullshit?

hmmmm decisions, decisions....

But seriously though, I'm surprised Sanemi didn't crack after seeing this face, like just look at him

Sanemi you asshole! Apologize to my baby right now! 😭

[highvern]

Drive Me Crazy

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x f!reader

Genre: smut

warnings: strangers to lovers, virgin!JK, dry humping, oral sex, cum eating

Length: ~3.7k

Note: yes i'm insane. no i won't be taking further questions. thank u @gyuswhore for chaperoning my descent into JK madness

summary: You're not the only one with a shitty dating life. Your driver seems to be having a worse night than you can imagine. But things take a turn for the better in the backseat of his car.

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

“Uber for Y/N?” you ask, stumbling into the backseat. “Thanks. God, you wouldn’t believe the night I’ve had.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” the man, Ian according to the information on the app, gasps. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” You’re a wreck; makeup running, clothes damp from the rain peppering on the window. The last thing you want is some hot guy as your driver for the short journey back to your apartment but at this point you can’t muster the energy to care. 

“Uhhh—”

“You probably don’t want to hear about my shitty night.”

“Well that and—” he starts, cut off before he can say more by your tipsy motormouth. 

“Where does a man get off telling me he isn’t interested in gold diggers when he’s a public school teacher? No offense but what gold?” you ramble. “Not to mention, when I told the waiter to split the bill he asked if I thought he didn’t have any money. Like make up your mind dude.”

“What the fuck?” he asks lowly.

You nod in agreement, hands thrown wide in exasperation. “That’s what I’m saying!”

“That’s fucked up.”

The thickness of his voice doesn’t register in your mind, a broken edgy scratching at the edges of your brain but it doesn’t signal any significant interest “Oh, that's not even the worst part.”

“There’s more?”

“He said ‘I asked too many personal questions.’”

“Like?”

“What he liked to do for fun, if he’s originally from the city, do you like dogs or cats? Literally anything I could think of because apparently he’s allergic to carrying a conversation.” In your hand, your phone rings with an unsaved number. “Hello?”

“Hi, this is your Uber. Did you mean to cancel your ride?”

“What?”

“Ian from Uber? I’ve been circling the block and haven’t found you and you weren’t answering your phone.”

“Oh! I’m sorry I’ll just—cancel. Yep. Bye.” You stare at the equelly unease expression on Not-Uber Driver Ian’s face, muddled brain racing. If he isn’t your driver that means you got into the car with a random man. 

“Who the fuck are you?” you scream. 

“Who the fuck are you?” he yells back.

You fiddle with the door handle, unable to grab a hold with shaky hands. “Oh my god, you’re a kidnapper.”

“I’m not a kidnapper!”

“That’s what a kidnapper would say!” You fumble for the pepper spray in your bag only to find it absent. It’s not your usual bag. It’s the nicer one that barely fits your phone and chapstick. Damn it.

“YOU GOT IN MY CAR,” he argues.

He makes a good point. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I tried but you talk a lot.” 

Another good point.

“Oh my god, what the hell,” you gasp. “Why are you sitting here with the doors unlocked? I could have robbed you.”

“I used my last five bucks to buy this ice cream. Just kill me instead.”

You balk. “That’s so sad.” 

“Yeah, I’m aware.”

“You’re a horrible kidnapper.”

“And you’re a pretty shitty carjacker so I’d say we’re even.”

If he was dangerous he's had plenty of time to prove it. Instead, when he looks back over the center console, all you see is the red rimmed eyes of a kicked puppy with a bird nest for hair. A ridiculous expression for a man of his size but you pity him nonetheless. He’s harmless. Pathetic. But harmless. 

There’s a story about him and you’ve always been curious. “Okay, not-Ian, why are you sitting in a parking lot eating ice cream on a Friday night? Kidnapper thing aside, this is just sad.” 

He’s hot. Even in nothing but sweats and his own misery. The intimidating kind of handsome that people, men and women, pine over. Hand themselves over on a silver platter if he so much as asked.

“Thanks,” he grunts, going for another spoon of ice cream. 

“So why are you upset?” The rain outside intensifies, setting the scene to bare your souls in his cramped Toyota.

“Ugh…” he hesitates. 

“You don’t have to tell me, but I don’t think it can be any more embarrassing than what I just went through.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Why not? If it’s more embarrassing then I won’t steal a bite. Is that chocolate?”

“Cookie dough,” he corrects. “This girl I’ve been talking to ditched me.”

“Because?”

He prepares with a deep breath, steeling himself against whatever motive his fling had. “I’m a virgin.”

“What?” you ask dumbly. Virgin.

Chin tipped back, he swipes at his face in embarrassment. “I told you it's embarrassing.”

“You’re eating your feelings because you’re a virgin?”

“Yes.” He waits for your interjection. When it doesn’t come he hesitantly continues. “And the last person I told laughed in my face and started hooking up with my roommate. So…”

“What a bitch.”

“Yeah. People just assume I’m some kind of man whore.” He explains, head banging against the wheel. “But I’ve never done anything besides… ya know?”

“I have no idea, complete stranger.”

“Like hand stuff.”

“Yeah, you’re definitely a virgin,” you snort. “Move over, I’m coming up.”

Shimmying into the front seat takes more coordination than you’re prepared for. The hem of your dress rises to brazen heights, a draft curling around the edge of your panties. Its a feeling you assumed would be happening with your date and not in the car with a random stranger. But beggars can’t be choosers. At least it’s good ice cream.

He pointedly avoids looking anywhere close to your legs. Polite. Innocent. Virginal. How cute.

“Thank you. That makes me feel so much better.” His eyes roll as you settle into the passenger seat, snatching the container and taking a bite from the same spoon he’d been using. 

“Sorry,” you say after swallowing. “Is it because you don’t want to? Because that girl can go fuck herself then.”

“No, I just, I don’t know. I get nervous? They’re expecting someone who knows what they’re doing and I have no idea. And then all I can think about is what if I’m bad at it which makes me more nervous and then I feel like throwing up.”

“Please tell me you haven’t thrown up on a girl.” 

“Ew, no,” he laughs, taking a bite for himself. “I just make an excuse to slow down and then leave.”

“Okay. Well…” You try to think of something, anything, that could make him feel better. It’s not everyday a stranger spills their guts about lacking sexual experience. “So what if you’re bad? It’s not like you can’t get better.”

“Okay, but what girl wants to sleep with a guy who’s bad in bed?”

“How do you know you’re bad if you’ve never even tried? It’s different if you’re bad and you don’t care. Just tell whoever you're with you’ve never done it before. If they don’t jump at the chance to teach you then they can fuck off.”

“Well, Mina rubbed my face in it—”

“Oh fuck her. She seems like a bitch.”

“You’re not wrong,” he says. 

Rain drizzles on the windshield, obscuring the lights into messy streaks. A flood of memories surrounding your own virginity rush to the forefront.

Your college boyfriend, Jimin, wanted to wait. It was cute. High school sweethearts going to the same school, taking similar classes, holding hands in the library. You thought he wasn’t ready and you respected it, found it endearing that he wasn’t like most of the guys your friends dated that couldn’t wait to do it.

Or you did until you decided to surprise Jimin for his birthday with breakfast in bed and got your own surprise. A girl, naked in his bed, Jimin’s own clothes scattered around the room.

You broke up with him right there. Two days of crying later, you invited your lab partner, the one Jimin couldn’t stand, over.

It was Yoongi that sent a selfie of you two cuddled up in bed to Jimin. He still likes to cash in on that favor whenever he needs a dog sitter.

Yoongi knew there were no feelings involved. A simple favor in the form of revenge against a shitty ex. Maybe not-Ian is your chance to pay it forward. By the looks of things, you wouldn’t be suffering.

“Ya know, some girls like guys who are inexperienced. It’s hot knowing you can teach someone how to be good in bed. Like an ego boost.” You shrug. If he wasn’t looking at your legs before but he sure is now. Pink ears and round eyes, his fingers twitch in his lap as you suck the spoon clean. At least the hour spent shaving your legs isn’t going to waste. “Besides, you obviously care how the other person feels, which is more than some dudes.”

“Why would someone not care if the other person feels good?” he asks, tone laced with disgust. “That seems like the entire point.”

“The world is full of mysteries.”

“My name is Jungkook by the way.”

Jungkook. Fitting somehow. It tastes good on your tongue. Like the cookie dough ice cream.

“Y/N.”

You end up in his lap in true stereotypical fashion. A too long silence, his eyes on your mouth and yours on his. Someone leans forward and now you know Jungkook is a great kisser with even greater upper body strength.

His inexperience shows in the fine details: shaky hands, hesitant tongue, waiting for you to take the lead as not to offend. It’s endearing. Someone as big as him treating you with such gentleness. But it means he’s thinking about messing this up and that’s the opposite of what you want. 

You kiss him deeper, a grip on the side of his neck that he eagerly surrenders too. Your other hand wedges between your chests. Teeth nipping at his lip, you rock against him, palming against the soft cotton sweats until he’s plump in your hand. 

“God,” he chokes. His own hands busy themself on your body, one at the seat of your ass, teasing the edge of your dress where bare skin peaks out while the offers a tight grip at your chest, pinching your nipple in desperate retaliation.

“Feel good?” You rut again, a tease for your own pleasure in the form of Jungkook’s heavy breath. It’s decent contact on your core, not enough to get you off but plenty for right now.

Kissing is well in his realm of experience. Obvious from how quickly he finds his bearings, licking behind your teeth. It’s good. Better than dry humping his thigh in the front seat should be. Vision dark from his hands frantic at your ass, thighs rising to meet every torturous curl against the heat of his lap.

You fall into his shoulder, drool staining his sweater as you pant. “Ever had your dick sucked?”

“No.” 

A vein raises across his neck and becomes your new guidemap. Your hand at his crotch squeezes, his cock twitching at the action. “Do you want to?”

“You don’t have to,” he hisses. 

You squeeze his cock again, enough for a needy drive of his hips in response. “I want to.” 

“Seriously?” he marvels.

“If it’s cool with you.” You nose along his jaw, teeth scraping red over his skin. His stomach dips under your hand. “Get in the back, I don’t need to get caught with your dick in my mouth.”

“Holy shit, don’t say that.” He kisses you again, firmer this time. 

You crawl back through the narrow opening between the front seats, ass on full display for Jungkook’s eyes. The heat of his palm ghosts over your legs but he doesn’t touch. The deliberate arch in your spine isn’t enough to break his self control just yet.

He comes next. The struggle is endearing, half stuck between the seats and wiggling forward. “I think I’m stuck.”

“Why didn’t you just go around?” You snort, grabbing around his arms and pulling to no avail.

“Too late now.”

You're both laughing. Breathless because Jungkook is lodged between the seats with zero hope. “Why are you so heavy?”

He wiggles through with your help, nearly elbowing you in the head in the process. But he’s in the seat with his lap as prime real estate. You try to commandeer the space once again but Jungkook stops you. Instead, he settles between your legs, weight pinning you into the door. Broad shoulders block out the light but you take it in stride, fisting the back of his sweater as he finds your pulse.

“Can I go down on you?” He nuzzles down your throat, mouthing the spots he’s learning make you putty in his hands.

“Yeah, sure,” you hiccup. “That’s fine.” 

Jungkook crams between your legs, bending in half on the floor like a contortionist. The sparse kisses across your thighs would be a blatant tease if nervousness wasn’t rolling off him in waves. He’s eating pussy for the first time and acting like it’s open heart surgery.

“Calm down.” You brush a hand through his hair, attempting to be comforting. 

“I am calm.” A bold faced lie. Even in the darkness of the backseat the signs of his impending nerves are obvious. 

“You’re shaking,” you say. “I’ll tell you what feels good. You’re not gonna mess it up.”

An open mouth on your core kiss leaves you sweating with a weak hum. At least he knows where the clit is. Or has a vague idea of its presence. Jungkook presses his face further into the cotton, suffocating himself without realizing. 

“O-oh,” you hitch.

Humiliation brews from such a visceral reaction to something as basic as a kiss over your panties. But Jungkook is out of his depth here and any reaction will stroke his confidence. 

He ducks away, watching you with rapt attention. You’re the teacher and he’s a student eager for whatever validation that may fall from your lips. “Good?” 

“Yeah, do it again,” you praise. 

He nods before diving back in, throwing your legs over his shoulders for better reach. Your pulse jumps with juvenile eagerness. Like it’s the first time you’re left with a boy unsupervised and his hand is the first real thing to touch you between the legs. It makes you feel dirty. Has your hairline sweat and tongue go dry. A bold wash of his tongue couples the next kiss, hot and wet as he laps against the fabric until your own arousal mixes with spit. 

"You fucking liar,” you croak. The back of your head knocks against the window, hips rolling into his mouth.

"What?” Jungkook asks, leaning back but just barely. His breath fans over your skin, a shiver crawling up your spine. “Did I do something—" 

“It’s good. So good,” you praise. “Touch me more.”

He jumps at the chance. Your panties tear down your thighs, out of the way with some rough maneuvering. Bare for his eyes, Jungkook takes more than a fill before diving in for another taste. But not until he spits on your clit and rubs in the mess with his thumb. Your thighs spread wider to accommodate a hard pass of his mouth, more wet kisses burning your cheeks.

“Jungkook, fuck,” you sigh. “When you said ‘hand stuff’ what did you mean?”

“I’ve touched a vagina before if that's what you're asking.”

You swat his hand. “Don’t say vagina, it makes me feel like I’m at the gynecologist.”

“Sorry, a pussy.”

“Don’t say it like that either, weirdo. Have you fingered one?”

Pointed silence is answer enough.

“It’s okay. I’m not gonna make fun of you. Just don’t put a finger in my ass and you’ll be fine.”

He doesn't laugh at your poor attempt to cut the tension but he releases a weighted sigh, muscles sagging an inch. Better. Instead, he focuses on stroking you to life between your folds, fingertips nudging your bud teasingly. 

“Use your mouth some more and then finger me too,” you beg. 

“Uh—how many? I don't wanna hurt you." He’s unsure despite the obvious twitch in your thighs. It burns depravity through your veins. His innocence is hot. Jungkook doesn’t even realize how fucked up he has you from some softcore porn level touching.

"All of them. I don't care, I’ll tell you if it’s too much."

One hand firm on your stomach, keeping your dress out of the way as he spreads your insides with two. The first strokes are meek. Nothing to scream over but he’s learning and that’s what's important. Seconds tick by and Jungkook finds a hesitant rhythm. Wet noises echo with each slow sheath, reserved but stretching you all the same. The wet strokes of his tongue are there too, placating just in case. A soft curl of his fingers makes your hips cant into his mouth. 

The fogged windows are a dead give away to what's playing out in the backseat. If anyone stumbles down the sidewalk then you’re both dead but Jungkook’s mouth is distracting in the worst way.

And then he licks between his fingers, tongue slipping past his knuckles for a pure taste of your arousal. You go fuzzy at the edges, thighs squeezing tight until he’s forced to keep them spread or risk having his head crushed.

“Oh–fuck me, god.”

It’s not fair. For him to be good at this so quickly. To delude himself into thinking he could possibly be bad, trying to convince you he’d be bad. Complete unfair how ill prepared you were for Jungkook worshiping your pussy like he’s never tasted anything better.

He really needs to be more confident because, in the cramped back seat of his car, you’re losing your mind and it’s barely been ten minutes.

“Can I—” he asks around your clit.

“Do whatever you want, just don’t stop,” you ramble. “Jungkook, fuck.”

A hand of your own sinks into his hair, angling his chin for better access. Wet echoes fill the car, sharp mewls from your lips adding to the noise. Nerves blazing, your ride his mouth for all its worth. Eager slippery circles of his tongue against your clit intensify, built on praising moans of his name.

“Fuck. Tastes good,” he grunts. A squeeze of your hand, the one not pulling his hair and then he’s finding your chest, blind groping until you guide him to your nipple and curve into the sting of his grip. He twists it. Hard. 

You want to cry. The sweat suck of his mouth, fingers confidently curling it that spot that makes the air thinner in your lungs. Moans die between your teeth. Too quick into the next sensation to revel. There isn’t a thought other than Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook.

“Jungkook!” you cry, grinding into his fingers. Your teeth clench as a third one stretches that extra inch. Stiff in the thighs, you force yourself down into the friction. His tongue hardens, perfect for use as you hump his face weakly.

Your legs kick, scrambling under the sharp pleasure. He’s got you melting into nothing right on his carseat. Jungkook doesn’t lean back to ask for more confirmation; just takes the signs for what they are and keeps going with renewed stamina at the promise of your pleasure. 

“I’m gonna—oh, god. Yessss,” you hiss. Nails sharp against the back of his neck, Jungkook buries his face in your cunt. 

You go rigid, voice breaking into a desperate whimper. Jungkook has the sense to keep going, lashing at your clit over and over with each desperate pulse of pleasure through your veins. Flashes flare behind the darkness of your eyes squeezed tight. You make a few more desperate noises, lurching in his hold before falling lip and worn.

“Fuck, okay. Okay,” you whine, pushing him away from your core before the stimulation becomes too much.

His mouth is drenched, cheeks and chin smeared with your orgasm. A flash of tongue collects some of the mess but you drag him into a kiss before he can go for seconds. First time eating pussy and he’s one for one. If that doesn’t help his confidence then nothing else will. 

“Give me a second and I’ll blow you,” you pant into his lips. 

“I-it’s okay.”

You pout at the brush off, a deep kiss as you invade his space. “I promise I want to.”

Your hand goes for his pants just to be captured with his own. His fingers are still soaked from your insides. “No, I…I came too.”

“Really?” you ask in awe.

Jungkook is embarrassed again. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. That’s hot.” You kiss him again with a gentle suckle along the curve of his lower lip. Jungkook drinks it in, crowding you back into the door again like you aren’t a pile of mush. Your back hurts from hunching over for so long but you let him keep you tangled up for a little while longer just to feel the shuddering exhale from his nose across your cheek. “Can I see?”

He swallows thickly before rolling down his sweats. The thin fabric of his boxers are wet, sticky under your shaky hand. You dip below the waist band, fingers grazing the limp ridge of his cock. He’s stuck in the inbetween of soft and hard but still hot and heavy in your hold. Your core throbs in interest at the feeling. 

Jungkook shivers as you swipe at the slit, collecting a bead of cum. You want to get your mouth on him but he looks like he might cry if you keep playing with it.

When your hand retreats, rising to your lips for a taste, his eyes round, mouth gaping over silent words. The pink of your tongue comes out, lapping at the thick mess coating your thumb. 

“Is it okay if I get your number?” he asks after the initial shock wears away.

“Yeah,” you snort. “You can have my number. You can give me a ride home too. And we can do that again in my bed.”

The glee on his face is worth the disgusting mess between your thighs. “Hell yeah.”

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie

@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire

@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi @writingbarnes

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@luvseungcheol @crisle19

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[ilylovelyz]

⍣ ೋ the times they cried because of you

☆ includes ushijima, iwaizumi, atsumu, kageyama, bokuto

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI — he never cries. you met this guy when the two of you were young freshman in high-school, and you quickly became a good friend of his. that being said, you never saw him cry. even when the two of you began dating in your senior year, you still never did. years passed, and it was the same as the previous years. sure, he occasionally got upset, but even then, he still put on a stoic display, never really letting you in on that side of him. even at your wedding, he sure showed some emotion but he didn't cry. then came the birth of your first child.

"she's so cute, isn't she 'toshi..?" you said weakly, forehead still damp with sweat, bodu trembling with the aftershocks of your hard, long labor. your eyes fluttered open, focusing on the sight of your dear wakatoshi holding your newborn baby.

your heart fluttered at the soft image of your husband holding the tiny baby closely again his chest, his forehead mere inches away from the baby's forehead. it was barely there, barely noticeable. if it weren't for the reflection of light, then you wouldn't have been able to see the way his eyes were glazed over, corners red, tears brimming at the borderlines of his eyes.

he was so memorized, so in love with this product of you, this product of his and your love. god, you just make him the happiest guy on earth.

with a grunt, he sniffled lightly, trying to mask his emotions. "yeah.."

IWAIZUMI HAJIME — he hates crying. but being the responsible and knowing person he is, he knows that crying is inevitable. but the "strong", reliable guy in him wants to punch himself every-time he feels his eyes sting at the feel of salty tears brimming at his waterline. unbeknownst to you, he would avoid you every-time he felt like he was going to cry, usually hiding in the locked confides of the bathroom. he thought he was hiding it well, until one fateful day where it all came crashing down..

"haji?" you said on the other side of the door. he immediately shot up, his eyes darting to the doorknob. he always made sure to lock it, but today, he was just so exhausted and down that the idea of a lock was forgotten. crap, "hey wait-," before he could even rise up from his slouched kneeling position on the bathtub's side, you opened the door unknowingly. "i just need my–hajime?"

there he was, in all of his fucking glory, hunched over, his face long and clearly expressing his hurt feelings. his heart fell to his stomach, his vision going cloudy as his day just kept getting worse. "hajime?" you called out once more, only your tone had softened, more light and tender. you reached a hand out to him, eyes full of concern. he couldn't help but jolt away from your hand, eyebrows furrowing at your softness.

he didn't like your tone. why are you looking at him like that? like some sad kicked puppy lost in the middle of nowhere? it made him feel so small, so weak. "haji.. are you okay?" you whispered, crouching down to his level outside of the bathtub. you attempted yet again to touch the side of his face, lightly pressing your fingertips against his cheekbone before fully pressing your palm against the side of his face.

his lips trembled as he was just a second away from breaking down, his eyes locked on a single object as to hold on to the last of his will. you sighed softly at his resistance, of course he wouldn't want to cry in front of you, but you don't understand why, afterall, what makes a person weak for crying? "it's okay, hajime."

with that, fat tears finally ran down his cheeks, his eyes shutting close as he finally broke at your words. he could only grab onto your hand as you climbed into the tub, his head going straight into your chest as he sobbed and wailed.

MIYA ATSUMU — surprisingly, you've seen this guy cry many of times before. he cried when getting accepted into nationals, winning nationals, just crying at things any normal person would do. but he never cried for you. no, he held himself to higher standards. he'd never cry for someone, not even for you. yeah, he loved you, but he wasn't about to cry for someone like a little child. all high and mighty, he never thought you would actually have an affect on him like you do now. him being someone who wears his heart proudly on his sleeve, he found himself getting into an argument late at night with you, too prideful to back down.

"are you serious atsumu?! you know i'd never do that!" you yelled, voice hoarse and scratchy due to the ongoing screaming match between you and your boyfriend. "oh really?! then why were ya' 'll over that fucker earlier? huh?!" he yelled back, pointing out the way you were seemingly flirting with a guy at the club earlier.

but you weren't? you would never do that, you're not a scum. "what?! we were just talking?! am i not allowed to TALK to people atsumu?" you scoffed, arms crossing defensively. "if you wanna consider talking as flirting, then let's talk about that girl you were laughing with the other day? huh? let's talk about that!"

his eyebrow raised at your counter, fumbling nervously as he wondered what to say. "w-wh- you know what?! fuck you! i don't know why i'm even dating a bitch like you!" he said, almost immediately regretting his words when he saw the way your eye's widened at his harsh words. the apartment was finally silent as you registered his words, he wishes you had any sort of expression on your face, but you had nothing but a stoic and emotionless face.

"okay then," you finally said, arching your eyebrow in a taunting way, resting your hand down on your hip. "bye." you followed, grabbing your bag and your keys, turning your back on him.

he watched, frozen in his spot as you exited out the apartment with your composure. his body jolted when he heard the slam of the front door, finally letting out that breath he was unknowingly holding. he scoffed at what you said, clenching his jaw tightly as he tried to hold onto his pride. "damn it." he said.

he felt the tear roll down his cheek before he could even register that he was crying. "..damn it!"

KAGEYAMA TOBIO — to him, life is volleyball. his childhood consisted nothing of volleyball, and so will his adulthood. maybe his obsession with volleyball was a little extreme, but you never really minded. he respected you greatly for your patience, he wasn't dumb, he knew that his priority of volleyball was evident, so he always tried to make it up to you by spending time with you whenever you wanted. but it seemed like after awhile, he began to take your patience for granted. it wasn't until the nth time when he didn't show up for the nth date was when he realized.

kageyama was careful to shut the front door as quiet as he could, tiptoeing as he took off his shoes and walked throughout the dark hallways and into the master-bedroom. he jolted like a cat when he sat you sitting up on the side of the bed, back facing the doorway.

"y-you scared me. what are you doing up at this time? it's nearly 10PM." he stuttered obliviously. it was silent for a few seconds before you sighed, slowly turning your head to face him. "you forgot." you muttered before turning back to look at the wall. forgot? forgot what? it was then he noticed the way your hair was done, still clad in a pretty dress.

"o-oh.. the date! i-i'm sorry y/n, i promise i can make it up to you"— "don't bother." you interrupted, voice stern yet monotonous. what do you mean 'don't bother?' you love going on dates don't you? his lips pursed into a straight line, chewing on his bottom lips nervously. "w-what do you mean? i really promise, this thursday i have a free day.." he trailed off when you suddenly stood up from the bed.

"i mean that i think we should break up." his heart dropped at your words, eyes widening. break up? his mouth was agape, mind spinning with different solutions and apologies. before he could detest, you walked over to the corner of the room, pulling up a suitcase that he didn't even notice.

"b-but why? you said yourself that me and you are meant to be together?" he cried out, quickly rushing over to your side and grabbing onto your wrist. he watched your face closely, eyes taking note of every single feature of yours. you inhaled deeply, still refusing to look at him.

"i said that when we were in high-school and didn't have any major responsibilities. things have changed, we aren't in high-school any more. you're now a pro-volleyball player with big responsibilities, and i'm.. someone who clearly has too much time on their hands, wasting it on someone who can't give me any of theirs. it's not your fault, kageyama, but we just don't align anymore."

you finally said, tugging your hand away from his grasp. before you could take a step, his hands were once again on you, gripped onto your shoulders, forcing you to look at him. "but.. you said you would be there for my game at nationals.." he whimpered out, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

it was then, when you were finally walking out of his apartment, out of his life, was when he finally did realize, that maybe, he did take your patience for granted..

BOKUTO KOUTARO — this guy cries a lot. he's cried so many times you might have to start writing it down somewhere. he rarely masks his emotions, he's an open book. thats what you love so much about him, that he's so open and honest. you love the way he's so eager and sweet, you love the way he's always willing to talk to you and so damn clingy it's like you have your own personal koala. aside from the times he's happy, he's sad, sad because he didn't perform well, or because you didn't kiss him. but you never really made him cry, you'd never do that. or so you thought.

"y/n!! i missed you!" you hear a booming voice yell, his footsteps speeding up at the sight you. he paid no mind when you didn't respond to him, as you were currently hunched over the your work desk, laptop gleaming at you brightly. your back was turned to him, so you were basically calling him for a back hug.

"y/n!" — "not now koutaro." you interrupted, tone serious and stern. he raised his eyebrows at you with surprise, his arms a few inches away from your shoulders as they stilled in their preparation to hug you. "babe? is something wrong?" he asked curiously, lips pouting at your stern denial. you never decline a hug. you love them. right?

"i'm working. can't you see that?" you spit out, sighing deeply. you pull away your cramping fingers away from your keyboard, rubbing them over your sore eyes. "my gosh." you mumble under your breath, eyebrows intensely furrowed with stress. you had been working for a few hours straight, staring at nothing but a bright screen with words that were becoming incoherent to you.

you yelp out when you're suddenly pulled from your chair, being lifted up into bokuto's strong arms as he spins you around. "don't be so sad!" he says cheerfully, hoping to cheer you up with a big warm hug. only— this seems to make you mad. "put me down, koutaro!" you yell, pushing his chest away and forcing him to practically drop you.

"don't you see i'm working?! why are you so damn clingy? you're so annoying, god, why don't you just leave me alone?" you spit out. your words are like venom, stinging his heart greatly as his hair is quickly deflating once your words reach his ears. you simply return to your laptop once you've finished, typing mindlessly once more.

him? annoying? he didn't mean to annoy you..

he couldn't help but softly whimper, left standing in shock. he opened his mouth to say something before your previous words were reminding him to stay silent—leave me alone. he clutched his palms, looking at your turned back with teary eyes. he hopes you don't find him annoying for long..

[jaewritesfic]

Everlasting Trio DPxDC Nobody Knows Au Pt 3

Parts 1 and 2

They both fall silent and stare. 

That's an answer to one of many questions they've been asking themselves for years, isn't it?

Their best friend disappeared, and it wasn't abduction or murder. It was an escape.

“You guys don't have contact with Jack and Maddie, do you?”

Tucker swears there's a record scratch in his brain.

Sam gapes. “You mean your parents?”

Danny smiles, small, grim and humorless. “Jack and Maddie.”

Jesus Christ.

Sam glances over at Tucker and they exchange a look. Tucker knows they've been feeling a shared guilt for a long time, feeling like they didn't do enough. They had suspicions about something fucked going on in Danny's home life since the beginning of freshman year, but they never blew the whistle about it.

Rationally they know it wasn't their responsibility. All of Amity had suspicions - someone should have called CPS, and it shouldn't have been a couple of kids. A goddamn adult should have stepped up.

It doesn't keep either of them from feeling like they failed their childhood best friend.

“Considering I've spent the last four years suspecting they killed you and chucked your body into the portal to hide it? Hell fucking no, Danny,” Sam asserts.

The set of Danny's shoulders relaxes significantly. “Good,” he breathes. “Good. Please keep it that way.”

“What the fuck was going on in that house, man?” Tucker asks, a little sick to his stomach. He knows right away he shouldn't have asked.

Danny's expression shutters into something polite and pleasant to hide discomfort, and he immediately starts ‘casually’ gathering his papers and computer into his bag.

“Listen, I'm really happy to see you guys - seriously. I really should get going though, I-”

Sam reaches out and snatches him by the scruff of his shirt before he can even stand up all the way, yanking him back down into his chair.

His dumbfounded expression makes Tucker snort a laugh, so familiar and puppy-like. Danny is still all big blue eyes and nearly visible question marks when taken off guard. Tucker missed that face.

“You're not going anywhere until we get your phone number,” Sam argues, not a hint of wiggle room in her face or tone. “We'll get lunch or something, all three of us. Go to the mall. We're living in the same city, you know I'll hunt you down.”

When Danny hesitates, her face and tone melt into something softer.

“Please, Danny. We miss you.”

Danny melts a little, sighing and smiling. “...yeah. Yeah, I missed you too. I've missed you guys so much.”

“So?” Sam prompts, holding her hand out.

Danny huffs a little laughing breath and fishes around in his pocket, unlocking his phone and plopping it into her hand. 

His nails are black and green. Gradient.

Tucker doesn't know much about nails, but he knows there's a difference when Sam paints them and when she splurges for acrylics.

“Are those professionally done?” he asks, bemused. Danny had never expressed an interest in that kind of thing as a kid. It's kind of cool to see signs that he's, like…growing into himself.

Danny shrugs, and it feels good to see that he doesn't even seem to consider Tucker might give a shit in a bad way.

“I'm on my hot girl shit,” he deadpans, and Sam nearly drops his phone with the force of her startled laugh.

Tucker snorts. “Oh, well about time.”

“Hey!” Danny protests, offense fake and eyes dancing. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, nothing! You had a glow up is all.”

Danny snickers and kicks him gently under the table.

“Okay, dick.”

It's like they never parted at all for a moment.

“Here, Mr. Hot Girl Shit,” Sam says, handing Danny his phone back. “I put our numbers in and sent a text in a group chat so you can't forget to reach out. I'm serious, Danny. We missed you, don't disappear. It was scary enough the first time.”

Danny grimaces, at least looking genuinely apologetic. “I know. I'm sorry. I really do need to get going today, though. I've got an appointment.”

“What kind of appointment?” Tucker asks.

The grin Danny gives him is mischievous and has a few teeth sharper than he remembers there being. 

He breezes past them and out the door with an impish response of, “Hide and seek with furries.”

Part 4

Masterpost

[babygirlwolverine]

“i’m gonna put on a western movie and probably crash in the dean-cave if anyone needs me,” dean announces, crumbling up the piece of paper he’d been failing to make notes on and bouncing it off of sam’s head.

sam sticks up his middle finger and ignores the comment, only glancing up to shoot dean a withering look. except, instead, sam’s gaze catches something else. the way cas is looking at dean, even though dean is currently crumpling another piece of paper to throw at him in retaliation for the middle finger sam had just given him.

the look on cas’ face could only be described as a sad puppy who’d been kicked and was waiting for their owner to bend down and give them affection.

it was almost pathetic, the sheer strength of cas’ puppy dog eyes. and that expression was only ever reserved for dean; a look whenever cas was waiting for dean to invite him to follow in whatever his brother was doing because the two of them were attached at the hip… and inadvertently at the heart, too.

dean chucks another paper ball at sam, snorting in victory when it bounces off his brother’s forehead and gets lodged in his hair.

cas was now looking dejected, shifting his doleful eyes down to the book he was reading for research.

“oh for god sakes, dean, ask cas to join you before he mopes all over that book,” sam sighs.

“ask cas to join-”

“I do not mope, sam-”

dean and cas seem to realize they spoke at the same time and they quickly dart their gaze to each other, then to sam, and back to each other again.

dean scrubs at the back of his neck, ducking his head awkwardly as he nods his head in the general direction of the dean-cave.

sam interprets the action for all of them. “I’m outta here. enjoy your movie date.”

“it’s not a movie date,” dean says defensively.

sam gets up, abandoning his laptop and his drink in hopes of getting away from all the mutual pining before it suffocates him.

as sam rounds the corner and heads towards his room, he hears dean ask cas, “unless you want it to be a date?”

‘fucking finally’, sam inwardly sighs.

[vampcubus]

On the wrestling to grinding w/ best friend Kyo, your head resting on his forearm as he's leaning on his elbow above you, other hand on your hip. Wet kisses trailed up your neck and his hot breath fanning across your cheek. Every now and then there's a particularly rough thrust as he murmurs apologies in your ear. This isn't how he wanted it to go with you but he can't bring himself to stop

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : nsfw, best friend!kyojuro rengoku, fem!reader, modern au, slight size kink, play wrestling -> dry humping pipeline, premature ejaculation. sub!kyojuro implied but the dynamic isn't too prominent in this one.

A TV drama debate quickly turned into playful shoving, which naturally turned into roughhousing, a common practice between you and the man you've known since you could walk. The show is paused in the background, illuminating your bodies in the darkness of your living room as you wrestle on the couch you were previously cuddling on.

You continue to argue over the protagonist's love life, though you put too much weight into a lunge, sending both of you tumbling onto the floor. Ouch. 

“Oof!” Kyojuro grunts, the wind temporarily knocked out of him as his back meets the carpet, and your body follows, falling atop his. 

He rolls over, caging your body beneath his, undeterred by the tumble and you're reminded of just how big he is. He isn't the gangly teen you remember pushing around anymore, but a grown man. It's difficult to reconcile that dorky teen with the pile of muscle he's become. Jeez, when did he bulk up so much? And as you clutch uselessly at his bulging biceps to shove him off you, you can't help but feel him up a little longer than necessary.

Kyojuro's warm weight atop you is all-consuming, sapping the strength from your limbs his body heat melts into yours. Still, you twist in his hold, ignoring the fluttering in your chest to capture him in a headlock. He knocks your arms out of the way, hands sliding beneath you to grip your shoulders, and one of his muscled thighs hooking beneath yours to prevent you from kicking.

You huff, unable to do much but squirm. And squirm you do, never one to give up. 

He loves your fire almost as much as he loves the way you pout when you lose. Before he can gloat, your hips shift over his groin at just the right angle. Kyojuro's bulge is almost perfectly lodged between your thighs, the warmth between them radiating through your clothing. His breath hitches, muscles tensing in response before a violent shudder overtakes him. 

Though he fights to regain control of himself, his cock throbs in his pants, and Buddha he hopes you can't feel him getting hard. You'd tease him endlessly for it, he's sure of it.

Get a hold of yourself, Kyojuro. His eyes pinch shut, cheeks ruddy with warm blood as he feels his body fill with fire. When his golden eyes re-open, he's met with an expression on your face that nearly makes him moan aloud. 

Your brows are twisted in concentration, perhaps to hide how flustered you are by his proximity. Your lips parted slightly, chest heaving from the exertion of your scuffle. Buddha forgive him, his body moves without thought, hips rutting against yours. His swelling erection drags deliciously over your clothed cunt, eliciting a deep rumbling groan that vibrates his whole chest.

Your nails prick into his back, leaving behind red crescent moons on his skin and fuck that feels good too.

Kyojuro murmurs a slurred apology, dipping his head down as his shame paints his cheeks red. Even as he apologizes his hips won't stop, and the feeling of his warm breath on your throat makes you shiver. The shock of the realization that your best friend is humping you leaves you gaping stupidly, and for some reason, you don't tell him to stop. 

You don't punch his shoulder and laugh it off, only stare with widening pupils as the blond all but ruts his hardness against you like an overeager puppy. Why is this so hot? Wrong in many ways obviously, but it’s intoxicating nonetheless to see him unraveling this way. And God, his cock, even through his joggers you can feel how thick he is.

“Kyo,” you began, a protest on the tip of your tongue but your breath hitches as his lips meet the tender flesh of your neck. "K-kyojuro, what are you doing...”

“I can't stop. I'm sorry, I unnnh,” Kyojuro nearly whines, his hand sliding down from your shoulder to grip your hip as his enthusiastic thrusts start to shove you across the floor. "You feel so good.”

“Don't say things like that, idiot,” you hiss, though even as you scold him, you can feel yourself getting slick. His leaking tip nudges your clit just right and you can't stop the soft sound of approval from escaping, nor your legs from locking around his bucking hips. "Fuck, don't stop.”

His cock twitches, aching against your pussy as your perceived acceptance of his desperate act sends him into a frenzy. His weight presses further onto yours, trapping you between his heavy body and the floor. When you toss your head back, his forearm cushions it.

“Love you. Love you – ohh.”

This isn't how he wanted this to go, how he's always imagined himself confessing his feelings for you. But he can't deny either of you this maddening friction, every single rational thought stolen away by your gasping moans.

“Can feel how big you are. Shit, c’mere.”

Your fingers wind in his flaxen hair, gathering it in your fist close to his scalp and tugging his head away from your neck to slant your lips over his. Your clumsy kiss is electric, all he’s ever imagined it would be and not enough all at once, and his hips stutter against yours. He shakes all over, eyes rolling back with a choked cry into your mouth as he abruptly cums in his pants.

“Sorry, I’m… fuuuck,” he whimpers against your lips, the feeling of your tongue slipping past his parted lips forcing another spurt out of him. “Ah. Hmm, wow.”

His half-lidded, apologetic gaze meets yours, a bead of sweat dripping down his hairline.

“What the fuck,” you start, half-chuckling half in disbelief of what just happened. His face burns with the humiliation of not only humping his best friend like some pervert but also blowing his load from you kissing him, like a loser. Before he can apologize again, he takes in your dilated pupils and the way your hips still undulate beneath his heavy weight. “That was so hot.”

In his post-orgasmic haze, he can only groan in response, pressing his face into your shoulder.

“And pathetic,” you teased, and for some reason his softening cock twitches. And of course you notice, because he’s still slotted against your cunt, which is no doubt a sloppy mess of your own slick beneath your clothes. You hadn’t cum, but you hardly care, still on cloud nine from simply watching your favorite person unravel.

“So cruel,” he huffs, nipping at your shoulder in retaliation. 

“You like it. A bit too much apparently– yeowch!” another, harder bite follows, and you erupt in giggles as his thick digits dig into your sides, tickling you. “Touchy. Now are you gonna get up and let me fuck you properly, or are you too tuckered out, pretty boy?”

The way he scrambles off of you and starts pulling at his clothes is way too cute.

[a-hazbin-reader]

Hey did you get my ask/request of Alastor and Wife!reader having an argument and Alastor says something horrible to her leaving him to have to make up for it?

I did, I just have a lot of stuff in my inbox

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Alastor being in the DOGHOUSE

Description: ☝️⬆️

Alastor doesn't mind fighting, likes to bicker with and irritate those around him as some strange show of dominance

But his wife is an exception, he hates fighting with his wife and goes to great lengths to avoid it

Despite his efforts, you two do still fight from time to time and he hates it, he tries so hard to reign in that cruel part of him

He doesn't really even remember what started the fight, probably something dangerous he did that upset you

Something like the Adam stunt

And he probably tried to brush it off, his pride not letting him admit that your fears were warranted

You were understandably getting worked up over his dismissal, and he was getting irritated that you wouldn't just drop it

Everyone else in the hotel had scattered and hidden the moment you two started to uncharacteristically raise your voices at each other

Angel had to grab Niffy to stop her from watching the entire argument play out

He just doesn't want to scare you with the idea of losing him, he wants to be your strong, invincible husband

It makes him uncomfortable that you see beyond the powerful overlord demon and instead zero in on the man beneath it all

"Darling, I would understand your fears if I hadn't come back to you in one piece, but I'm here. With you. Perfectly fine."

You could rip your hair out due to frustration, almost in tears, how could he not understand how you felt?

"Alastor! That's not the point! You can't be so reckless! It's not just you that you have to worry about anymore! You have a wife! You have to live and be safe for me!"

He fears a pang of anger over being told what to do, rage and irritation over the unintentional reminder of his failure to win

Which makes his mind wander to his deal, his fucking leash

The words are out of his mouth before he even realizes what he's saying

"If I knew that everything I do had to be approved by you then, I would've rethought this whole marriage ordeal."

Alastor regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth, his ears folding back at the sight of your hurt expression

Your eyes have tears in them but you're doing your best to hold them in, turning on your heel to leave the room

"Wait-Darling, I didn't-"

"Just...give me some space, Alastor."

He regrets it so much, watching you walk away from him when he should be begging for forgiveness

He hates seeing you so upset but he hates being the reason for it even more

Alastor tries to give you the space you asked for, but it's difficult when all he wants to do is make up with you already

But he also doesn't want to actually talk about what happened

So he breaks fairly easily when he sees you again, coming up behind you and hugging you

Only to be shrugged off when he goes for a small kiss, left with a sinking feeling in his stomach

"I said to give me space, I'm not ready to talk to you yet."

Normally, Alastor loves it when you're cruel and cold, finds it a little hot, but when it's aimed at him? He hates it so fucking much

Literally looks like a kicked puppy when you walk away from him again, Charlie and Vaggie looking at anything but him

"You know what, Charlie? I do see that crack in the wall!"

He tries again later, sitting next to you and trying to wrap an arm around your shoulders while the radio bursts to life with a love song

Only to be rewarded with an ill hidden sniffle and you immediately getting up to walk away from him

"If you're not going to apologize and have a genuine conversation with me then don't even bother."

It's driving Alastor crazy not being able to be with you, to not be able to properly make up with you

But he still doesn't want to admit he messed up or have that uncomfortable conversation with you

So he tries lavish gifts and other romantic gestures that all get rejected or given to Niffty to do whatever she wants with them

"Yay!! I'm going to poison these and give them to the mother bugs!!"

Okay...maybe Angel should have these...

Alastor is starting to understand that he can't just gloss over this one

He understands it a little more later that night when you go to bed without him, and he's left too nervous to follow after you

Several hours into the night, the guilt eats at him and he breaks, sneaking into the bedroom

You're awake, your eyes red rimmed from crying but you manage to give him a glare before turning your back to him

"Darling, I believe I owe you an apology..."

The way your tense body relaxes is all he needs, crawling into bed with you and pulling you to his chest

It's a difficult pill for him to swallow, so it's easier for him to have these conversations with you like this

He doesn't want you to see his weakness even when he's laying it out for you

Luckily, Alastor is good with his words and you're willing to listen now that an apology is on the table

It's a long conversation that leaves you both sleepless and emotional in each other's arms

But things are settled and Alastor is forgiven, happy to be back in your good graces

He tried to be strong and hold himself back, he really did... but being without the warmth of your love was torture for him

It was a rough couple of hours for him

HA WHIPPED

"Angel, shut the fuck up before you get yourself killed!"

He's extra clingy and romantic with you for DAYS afterwards, making everyone else at the hotel practically nauseous

Except for Charlie, of course, she loves it

He's just so relieved that you've forgiven him, still disgusted with himself for even saying what he said

Asks you for yet another kiss that morning before Husk finally walks away, annoyed by Alastor's neediness

You don't mind your husband's clingy antics, enjoying the extra attention he's giving you

You should get mad at him more often

[babyleostuff]

jealousy, jealousy | choi seungcheol

fluff (+ a bit of angst) 𐙚 established relationship 𐙚 idol!cheol x gn!reader 𐙚 wc: 1.1k

. . . seungcheol getting jealous of a fictional character

“cheol, it’s just a fictional character,” you sighed, trying to explain for the tenth time since you got out of the movie theatre that, yes - the main lead was hot, but no - you wouldn’t ever leave seungcheol for him.

sometimes you wondered if he was turning thirty or ten next year. 

you didn’t mean to be all heart eyes at the movies, but it wasn’t your fault the main lead was good looking, not that it even mattered - seungcheol had his celebrity crushes too, but you didn’t go around and whine about it. “you know it doesn’t mean anything, baby,” reaching over, you ran your fingers through his hair, like you always did whenever he was stressed or anxious, turning him into a puddle in your arms in a second.

“mhm,” your boyfriend mumbled, and gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter, not sparing you a single glance. you sighed and dropped your hand. 

any other time you’d find this situation quite amusing - cheol jealous of a fictional character you happened to gush over, if not for the fact that you knew exactly how this would end.

with a silent treatment and an extremely pouty boyfriend.

normally you found that side of him very endearing, but dealing with a jealous coups was not an easy task, partially because your boyfriend happened to be one of the most stubborn people in the world.

now it was him and his pout against the world.  

“you know i love you,” you said, and turned your body away from him towards the window. 

if he was going to act like a child, then so be it.

“i’m a fucking idiot” seungcheol grumbled to himself, pulling his shirt over his head with a bit too much force, hitting himself in the head in the process. “fuck.” 

he couldn’t get the image of your soft gaze and gentle voice out of his head, when you tried to cheer him up in the car after he acted like a complete asshole. he was the last person that deserved your sweet affection, and he was so mad at himself for acting like a fucking toddler instead of pulling the car over and throwing himself into your arms to beg for forgiveness. 

“are you okay?” suddenly your voice pulled him out of his thoughts. you peeked through the door, and rubbed your eyes, already wearing his t-shirt that you always wore to sleep. the genuine concern in your eyes, and your adorably sleepy expression made seungcheol want to bang his head against the wall. 

how could he be so stupid, and get jealous and angry at you for finding a fictional character attractive? 

"uh, i'm fine, i just hit my head," he said quietly, not really looking at you. usually you’d immediately coo at him, and kiss the spot where he hit himself - of course you knew how much seungcheol loved your attention when he injured himself, even if it was just a scratch, but now he could only watch as you nodded and left without a word. 

he sighed, picking up his toothbrush to finish up his bedtime routine. there was no way he’d sleep in your bed tonight, seungcheol wouldn’t be able to lay next to you knowing how much he hurt you.

besides, there was so way you’d allow him to cuddle you after how he acted, and that was something he would not be able to stand. 

looking at his reflection in the mirror for the last time, seungcheol turned all of the lights in the bathroom, and padded over to your shared bedroom to take his pillow, and a blanket from the closet. 

he’d take the couch, it’d be less painful than sleeping in the same bed without being able to hug you. 

“what are you doing?” you suddenly asked, your voice laced with sleep. you pushed yourself up to take a better look at your boyfriend, who was standing at his side of the bed with what looked like his pillow and a blanket, his expression reminiscing one of a kicked puppy. “you have to be kidding me, choi seungcheol.” 

you looked so disappointed, and… annoyed? that was his last straw, and fuck every part of his dignity he had left - he’d beg on his knees for you forgiveness if that’s what it took. 

“ ‘m sorry, okay?” he said, his voice breaking. you could bet that if you turned the lights you’d see your boyfriend all teary eyed, not that it would surprise you - seungcheol was usually quite emotional when it came to you and your fights.

“i know there was no reason for me to get jealous and act like the biggest asshole about it, you didn’t deserve any of it,” he gripped the pillow tighter as if it would help. “and then i got so embarrassed of myself, i didn’t have the guts to tell you how sorry i was. please forgive me baby, i’m so sorry.” 

“oh, cheol,” you sighed and opened your arms. without a second thought, the boy threw the pillow aside and ran into your embrace, his strong arms wrapping tightly around your waist as if he was afraid that you were about to run away.

“i'm not mad at you,” you pressed your cheek against the side of his head, tangling your fingers in his hair. “okay, maybe i was at first, but that's only because you seriously act like a child sometimes.” seungcheol groaned, as if he didn’t know that already. 

you sat like that for a moment - your arms wrapped around his strong shoulders, with his head buried in your neck where he placed gentle kisses, just like the fight never happened. 

"did you seriously want to go to sleep on the couch?" you asked, kissing his forehead.

cheol leaned back, revealing the pouty lips, and his big doe eyes you knew so well. you could swear some day he’d be the death of you. "yeah, i wanted to. that was the plan," he admitted shyly, his thumbs running over your exposed hip.  

"you're so dramatic, cheollie," you sighed and shook your head, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. "why didn't you want to sleep with me, though?" 

your boyfriend groaned again, hiding in your neck like it was his safe space, pushing you back onto the bed with the force that he tackled you in. "i wouldn't be able to cuddle you," he murmured after a short while, like he was scared to admit it.  

"again, i didn't hear you." the truth was you heard him perfectly fine, but what was better than making your usually confident boyfriend shy and blushy. 

"i wouldn’t be able to cuddle you!" he huffed, looking at you again. "happy?" 

"very much, darling," you smiled at him. “now stop being a drama queen, and come to bed.” 

seungcheol nodded like a child that was just promised an ice cream, and scrambled out of your embrace, quickly grabbing his pillow from the ground. you smiled to yourself, watching your big teddy bear of a boyfriend crawl back into bed. 

“no more fighting, okay?” you murmured, your cheek pressed against his chest. “we just wasted a perfectly fine afternoon on your whining, you big baby.” 

seungcheol knew you didn’t mean to make him feel bad about what happened, he was sure you were probably used to his antics by now, but it didn’t change the fact that if it was up to him he’d spend the night worshipping you in every way he could just to show you how much he loved you. 

“i’m really sorry.” 

“it’s okay baby. let’s just sleep, yeah?” you said, and snuck your hand under his t-shirt, dragging you nails over his tummy. “and you know i’m yours, right? and that won’t change. ever.”

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[themultifanshipper]

Max stormed through the halls of the ER, fuming at the stupidity of his teammate.

He was going to fucking kill Checo.

Warnings: driver!reader, smut, PinV sex, injury, mention of strong ass medication, public sex?, sex in a hospital bed what more do you want from me

The door of your room slamming open startled you as Max walked in with a scowl.

"Jesus Max calm down-“

“No, I am not going to calm down!” he yelled. “That idiot put you in the fucking hospital and caused two other people to crash. I'm going to kill him when I see him!”

You closed your eyes and sighed.

You didn't have any broken bones, thank god, but your entire body was covered in deep bruising.

It was extremely painful and they'd given you some very strong painkillers and a plethora of other medication that hadn’t quite kicked in yet, so you weren’t really in the mood for Max's yelling.

He noticed your pained expression and immediately calmed down, coming to sit on the edge of the bed and took your hand in his.

“I'm sorry schatje, I'm just so angry… How bad is it?” he asked, voice wavering.

“Nothing broken, but I don't think I'll be able to make it to dinner” you joked weakly.

He whined and lay his head on your shoulder and you winced, so he pulled back and stroked your thigh tenderly.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry… Is there anywhere I can touch you where it doesn't hurt?”

You smirked, mind in the gutter, as usual “You always know where to touch me to make me feel good, Max…”

Max's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Go on baby, touch me wherever and I'll tell you if it hurts or not”

You wiggled your eyebrows suggestively and Max tried to swallow, his mouth was suddenly very dry.

Perhaps whatever they'd given you was finally starting to kick in.

And evidently, it wasn't just getting rid of the pain, it was making you insanely horny. Like… abnormal levels of horny. You hadn’t realized when you were alone, but the sight of Max in front of you was getting you very hot and bothered.

“Come on Max, touch me, I need it so bad…”

Your hand slowly slid up his denim covered thigh and his mouth opened and closed like a fish.

“Baby we can't” he gasped and got a hold of your wrist just before you got to the crotch of his jeans “We're in a hospital and you're badly injured…”

You were giving him your best (albeit a bit droopy) puppy dog eyes.

“And you are on drugs, my love”

You tried to sit up but your whole body protested so you stayed down, tugging at his shirt and pawing at his thick thighs.

“Please Max, fuck it's been so long, I need you inside me now”

It really had been a while. Between the races, your respective factory business was in entirely different countries, so you rarely had time to indulge in anything more than quickies and facetime debauchery.

Max was rapidly crumbling under your heated gaze (and your goddamn paws touching every bit of him you could reach) and his resolve didn't last long as he started going through ways to make this possible.

With every passing moment, your pain was decreasing and the heat between your legs was only getting worse as you whined at him to make you feel good.

He slowly stripped himself of his clothes and climbed over you, careful to avoid putting any weight on you.

As your body was uncovered bit by bit, he felt the anger come back, and then a wave of nausea took over.

There was barely any unblemished skin on your body, most of it coloured in various shades of yellow, purple and blue bruising.

He spread your legs and kneeled between them, running his fingers up the inside of your thighs and stopped just short of where you were almost dripping onto the sheets.

“Jesus baby, you really need me, huh?”

You whimpered pathetically and grabbed his hand to press it against you and rut against it desperately just for some relief.

The sight of you writhing and whimpering under him was overwhelming, and it didn't take long for him to line himself up and start pushing into you slowly.

Every time was like the first time with Max.

He held you in his arms, making sure you were okay as he split you open, burying inside you tight heat that seemed to be molded just for him.

You were drowsy from the painkillers but you felt every inch, every vein caress your walls as he dragged his cock in and out of you desperately.

His head dropped to the crook of your neck and you threaded your fingers through his hair while his hips rolled against yours in a slow rhythm, almost maddeningly so.

He went so deep, bumping your cervix on every slide in, and you let out low moans every time, matching his growls. You tugged harder on his hair while he nipped gently at your neck, cautious of where the seatbelt had bruised it.

His back muscles rippled under your touch and your eyes rolled back, the euphoria soon washing over your body in waves.

As soon as you started clenching around him, Max knew he was a goner. He'd missed the feeling so much, he quickly filled you up, shooting rope after rope deep inside you.

Once he was done, he rolled to the side so that he could lie down next to you but keep you in his arms as you stayed tangled together, sharing a passionate kiss.

“Fuck baby, I love you so much” you said, nails scratching at his scalp while he pressed kisses to your skin.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, making sure to not put any weight on you in the process. “I love you too schatje, you have no idea how scared I was, seeing them cart you off in in an ambulance while I was stuck in the paddock doing fucking interviews…”

You hummed, fingers drawing patterns over his skin. “I’m here now, Max. And I’ll be fine.”

Max looked up at you with a smile.

“I know… but I’m still going to fucking kill Checo”

[sumiresou]

Izuku's Clingy-ness

Izuku Midoriya x girlfriend/fem! Reader

word count: 643 (very short)

warning: clingy!boyfriend izuku, post-war arc, not-canon compliant (i tried, lord help me.), izuku missing his gf :(, someone get this man his gf back!!, sassy midoriya genes, possibly ooc for both kaminari and bakugo but oh well. NOT FULLY EDITED but it's like 4am... so...

a/n: I was reading some of @gglitch1dd 's dilf!izuku series, and i KNOWW I'm very late to the Izuku love but this fanfic idea is currently wrangling me like a bull... so... here! making this in-between 3 unfinished works and one series ideas!!! nice, author, nice.

beta read by my beautiful and unnerving sister.

Sometimes, It seemed unnerving how Izuku was so intensely obsessed with you. Izuku was just glad it wasn't in a bad way, despite how sometimes he would convince himself that he was such a bad person after the events of the Paranormal Liberation War. You were always there to squash those terrible thoughts that scattered and dug their way into his head, and convince him that what he had done was probably one of the best options left for Tomura Shigaraki.

He missed you today. You weren't in class the entirety of the school day, and he had gotten worried that you slept in; Until he saw your text message about having to suddenly go babysit your niece today due to an emergency involving the sitter not showing up. Everyone who even looked at Izuku's face could see it, how he looked like a kicked puppy who had just gotten every insult known thrown at him.

"Dude, you good? Did Y/N break up with you or something?" Kaminari had walked over, crouching down to rest his arms on Izuku's desk, long after class had ended. He had a slightly worried expression on his face, eyebrows furrowed, making Izuku feel slightly bad at making his friend worry about him. The green haired boy huffed, pouting as he stared down at the matching bracelets he had been fiddling with for most of class when he noticed Y/N's absence. Bakugo chimed in after Kaminari, abrasive as ever. Where did he even come from?

"Get a grip, Izuku. Your girlfriend is coming back tomorrow."

Izuku had at that moment, felt a little dumb. Oh. Oh! He had almost forgot, yeah you were coming back tomorrow. Wait... How did Bakugo know that? Right on cue, did Bakugo squash his thoughts.

"Y/N and I are friends too, calm down. Don't stare at me like that. You look like an offended goose." Bakugo sneered at him, his arms crossing over his chest. Kaminari looked over at Bakugo, his eyes wide and mouth agape.

"Woah! Dude, a little nicer maybe?"

Izuku rolled his eyes, giving his best friend an 'are you fucking kidding me' look. "You act worse when Kirishima is going to the bathroom, shut it." Izuku pouted and pointed at the spikey blond man in front of him.

Bakugo huffed and rolled his eyes, despite his hypocrisy in the situation. The blond was honestly so tired of Izuku moping around in class, and now outside too?

Izuku looked down at his phone, laying on the desk between his hands that kept fiddling with eachother. "Maybe I should call her."

Bakugo's eyebrow twitched. Maybe he should have bullied Izuku more. (not actually, but still.)

Kaminari was shocked at Izuku, no way Izuku was that clingy. "Yo! You should go and relax, go shopping with Todoroki and Bakugo! Todoroki has his dad's card for the day too! Do something instead of moping around all day! C'mon dude!" Maybe he wasn't being helpful, or maybe it was his excruciating single-ness.

Izuku groaned loudly in frustration, he just wanted his girlfriend dammit! Not to be basically kidnapped by his two friends to stop rotting over Y/N being gone for one day. "I don't wanna go out hanging out with everyone else, can't you guys just let me mope over my girlfriend being gone!?" He looked up at the ceiling, leaning back in his chair, hand clutching his hair.

"Not when you make it our problem! Get up! You're going shopping with Todoroki and Bakugo! Shoo! Out!" Kaminari exclaimed.

At the end of the day, he still couldn't help sending you a few 'I love you's and 'Facetime?'. He just missed you too much. When you came back, he was waiting on the UA steps, anxiously tapping his foot, and waiting for you like you always did.

"Day infinitely better."

want to support a struggling author? Leave a like and maybe a nice comment if you feel like it!

drops this and hides.

[chiscaralight]

gamer!perv!mean!neighbor!scara x fem reader nsfw. table sex(woah), thigh riding, unprotected sex,more story building tbh idk i just like writing for this, part 3 soon?🫣 this wasn’t proofread we die like tingyun

part 1 here!

after that night, you literally couldn’t face scaramouche anymore. it was so weird! you found yourself staying in your own home more, barely responding to his texts or calls now. even locking your door when you knew his was home so he wouldn’t come waltzing in like he always does.

but being away from him after you’d gotten so used to his presence was eating away at you from the inside. which is why you’re contemplating wether to knock on his door or just go in like you usually do. it’s been a very distressful five minutes like this, and another noise of distress leaves your mouth. then your face flushes. he definitely would have liked to hear that.

when you finally open the door, the living room is empty. so is the kitchen. but his bedroom door is wide open and he’s facing his setup, headphones on as he’s saying something harsh to whoever he’s in the voice chat with. his victory is easy, accompanied by a few more insults and a sultry laugh. once you’re sure he’s not actively playing, you call out his name,

he turns you you, expression blank. then turns right back to his screen to cue up for the next game. what the hell? you’re stomping over to him like a child and tell him not to ignore you.

“but haven’t you been ignoring me all this time?”

your mouth presses into a thin line. you look like a puppy that’s just been kicked across the street. so you apologize. its quiet, but he definitely heard it. and you’re not hard to read at all. he knows you didn’t do it to spite him in any way, so he waves it off and pulls his chair back. you slide your way into his lap and his free hand finds your waist.

you’re about to speak but the match is about to start. as much as you like being here, you’re trying to get his attention back on you, not watch him yell at other grown men. but you’ll be the first to admit the way he plays is mesmerizing. his fingers clicking at the keys with ease. your can feel your mouth start to water, the memory of-

“stop staring, whore.”

he doesn’t actually care if you stare. he’s stares at you all the time. he’s even staring at you right now, barely concentrating on the game he’s playing as you squirm in his lap. you’re moving way too much for either of your comfort and he tells you to stop squirming around. the bulge under you says otherwise. you’re biting back the gasp you can feel in your throat as you push down harder on him.

it's so wrong, moving around on him like this when he’s talking to other people. but it feels so good when he grinds up into you in response. he pushes you to the side so both legs are around one of his. bounces his thigh once and you wince at the pressure. it's starting to bother you a little more than it should. you're getting frustrated, and he's paying no mind to you and your problem.

in all reality, it's bothering him just as much. he might seem focused on his game, but he's trying to shift his attention from the strain in his pants! because of how you're sitting, you can't feel how hard he is. it's starting to get worse now bc those little noises of yours are getting louder, and he swears he can feel your slick seeping onto the leg of his pants.

now, scaramouche isn't one to throw a game for any reason. but with the way you're whining out his name like that, he's mumbling a sultry fuck me before just closing the game as a whole. he's sliding the keyboard away and throwing his headphones off in the blink of an eye. before you can even tell him to calm down, he's standing up and pressing you down onto the now-empty space of his desk.

"so needy. couldn't even wait a couple of minutes for me to finish my game. you want my attention that bad?"

you purse your lips. why did you want his attention like that? you've never felt like this before. not to mention doing anything like this before. humping his leg like that, whining his name like that. he didn't make you do any of it. that was all you. but before you can think about it anymore, he's pushing himself against the swell of your ass. he's hissing at the contact. he can feel how soaked you are through the thin fabric of your shorts. he's rolling his hips into you now, nails digging into the soft skin of your waist.

"miss me this much, hm?"

he cant see your face, but the red creeping up the back of your neck tells him exactly what he needs to know. you whine as he moves away but the cool air that hits your behind shuts you right back up. you can hear him moving around behind you, and it’s not long before you can feel him pressing his tip against your entrance. he taps your hip, and you nod, letting him know that he can go on.

when he finally pushed into you fully, your head drops right down to the table. you missed this so much, why were you hiding away from him again? he’s bunching up your hair in a fist to draw your head back before he starts moving.

he’ll never explain to you that he actually did miss your presence. his apartment was so quiet without you and it started to irk him. which is why he’d rather show you with how he fucks you. he’s hitting you so deep and hard, you can barely keep up! you can feel your knees buckling under your weight, so he releases your hair to hold your hips up. he doesn’t need to tell you to look at him this time, because once you manage to push yourself up, you’re already craning your head towards him. his smile is wicked, and he’s purring out an atta girl because you’re doing such a good job like the doll you are. your hand is reaching back to grip his forearm to tell him you can feel your orgasm coming. so he stops, but it’s not for the reason you think of.

in any other situation, he would’ve just held out on your orgasm for as long as he wanted. it was your fault after all, but with how long it’s been (it was an excruciatingly painful couple of days), he just tells you to face him.

he’s guiding you to half sit on the table. raising your legs up, he slides right back in with no warning. the moan you let out is so broken, so full of pleasure that he’s speeding up in you. one of your hands grips his shoulder for support so the other can find his hair and drag his head towards yours. the kiss is sloppy, your whimpers trickling into his mouth as he groans into yours. one specific thrust has you almost crying into his mouth as you come around him. he doesn’t stop pounding into you until he reaches his own climax, body stilling against yours.

part 3 here!

[dekuneho]

late evenings ☆ ( prohero!katsuki x reader ) mdni | suggestive

Your ears ring from the absence of noise as you shut your room door behind you. The static buzz of the electric fan is barely a reprieve — it's pin-silent and unnerving, bereft of light and life.

"C'mere," a voice rasps out, shattering the quiet.

Instantly, your nerves settle at the familiarity of your boyfriend's timbre. Your eyes are still straining in the unilluminated room, but with the slivers of dappled moonlight, it's easier to piece in how Katsuki is taking up the room. On your bed for two.

It's cold as you breeze to him, your skin still quivering from that fresh shower, smelling of Katsuki's shampoo and your favorite body scrub. But it's warmer as you snuggle up to him on the sheets, his arms swiftly pulling you closer by the waist. Every tension you've been keeping wounded tight releases all at once. Katsuki's leg throws itself over your hip like you're a walking body pillow.

"You're late," he says.

"I have a curfew?"

"Idiot." Katsuki still looks displeased. "Did you even eat?"

You nose his collar, smiling in that secret giddy way whenever Katsuki makes you feel so warm and cared for. "Mm. Saw the plate you prepared for me. Little cold."

Katsuki flicks at the exposed skin by your hip. "Don't complain. Your fault for working overtime."

"Missed you, too, Katsuki," you say with great forbearance, languidly pushing off just enough to catch his expression.

In the filtered light, you can make out how Katsuki's still got that cute scrunch of pale brows. His eyes are stark red, watching. You wait patiently — he looks like that when he wants something.

A shiver lances up your spine as Katsuki's fingers brush over the nape of your neck. His skin there is cold from the chill of your legs and the room, compared to the heat that's rushed to your face and everywhere around it whenever you're around Katsuki.

"Cold," you say, wincing away.

Katsuki keeps you still. "Warm it up then."

He really did miss you. It's just his dick seems to have missed you more. "…You want to have sex right now?"

Katsuki's head dips in a single nod. To prove his eagerness, he brushes his hip over your leg, where you feel his hardness under his sweatpants like a brick of heat. You swallow in nothing in particular, knowing firsthand how he can do you so well, but sleep is already clawing at you.

"Let's just do it tomorrow," you say, unable to hide your amused smile. "My legs are already sore, Katsuki!"

Katsuki groans in frustration, though his face portrays a kicked puppy more than anything. "Fine," he snarls. "Not tonight. Just ignore my dick suffocating down there, I guess."

"Kinda hard when it's so big."

You laugh when you feel it twitch against your thigh. Katsuki swallows the sound up with a searing kiss in retaliation, and your giggles melt easily into sounds of pleasure. Katsuki's cold hands travel up your spine, but they don't do anything else, warming itself up on the blossoming warmth there.

Katsuki breaks away, muttering, "Don't complain when I wake you up."

"What? To you humping me like a dog?" You kiss his scrunched nose. "Tomorrow; it'll feel so much better tomorrow. I’ll make you feel good."

Katsuki jerks away. "Fuck you, stop saying sexy shit!"

A laugh bubbles out of you again. Katsuki's face softens nearly imperceptibly.

He shifts until your face is buried under his chin — to hide his expression, maybe, but you have no complaints surrounded by his scent. With this, it's impossible to resist the call of sleep. You're dead to the world when Katsuki's fingers trace mindless circles by your waist, but you don’t miss how Katsuki sneaks in a kiss to your forehead before you go.