#he got so much crap and yet

[sabotourist]

You know I was talking with my friend a while back and in light of restoration... Can we just talk about how good Doc is? How, in s15, when the others retired, he went on to find other ways to help. How he has failed over and over, gotten shit on over and over, gotten his mind fucked with over and over, and yet that man never stopped trying to help people?

Even at the very end.

[mishy-mashy]

Do you think Banjo is the type of person who hides his problems behind a clown mask?

The guy acts like a bit of comedy relief, but I think he's the kind of person to face his problems head-on. I don't think he uses humor as a coping mechanism. We never see him do that for himself. He's just a loud guy

Look at how he first appears to Midoriya

He's loud, and it steals Midoriya's attention. But he's calling him out on why he's messing up

But as a character's debut, the first things he does are:

Call out Midoriya for trying to do things alone, when Yoichi's first message to him was that he wasn't

Tell him that if he can compose himself, things typically work out

Understands Midoriya's side of things, and tells him he knows (like lacking a mouth)

And once he says those two previous things, he exhales, and his eyes show their pupils properly

The parting advice he gives Midoriya is a reiteration of the second point: It's okay to be mad. What's important is controlling your heart.

Blackwhip is a Quirk that responds to the holder's emotions. Like other Quirks, but Blackwhip goes out of control when the user isn't able to get a grip on themselves

Banjo used his Quirk effectively. He'd have to live that advice to pass it on to Midoriya, back when Abilities were starting to become normal, but Japan was still wrecked. And we know that Quirks are influenced by, and influence, the holder's personality.

Banjo would have to be able to be honest with himself, understand his emotions, and has the maturity to say it's okay to be mad. Just control it.

When he said that for the first time, it actually surprised me. Everyone in fiction or reality says "Don't be mad", but a character on his debut and says it's okay to be that. I never heard anyone say that controlling your emotions and outputting them in a healthy manner is what matters. People just say not to he negative or annoying, because it's inconvenient; but Banjo went past that.

And when he fades, he tells Midoriya he's got this. He reminds him that they're all behind him.

Whenever he speaks, he doesn't make the receiver feel bad, or speak down to them. He understands them, and gives the next step in a familiar, friendly way.

On his debut, he told Midoriya to control his heart, and to remember he wasn't alone. Here, he tells him he should try understanding their Quirks better.

He's actually got a mature way of seeing things. He's an adult, and being the holder between Shinomori and En, he wouldn't be able to deal with either of them if he wasn't mature about himself. Shinomori probably wouldn't choose someone who can't be honest with himself upfront, after spending almost half his life for OFA. And En is young, prone to panic, and a guy who acts like his problems aren't there or funny wouldn't help that.

I can visualize Banjo sitting at a small fire with Shinomori, having an honest, calm talk about life (until Shinomori says the wrong thing and Banjo yells something about it). But not Banjo trying to push his problems down with a hearty laugh, and Shinomori being okay with that.

When Midoriya used his Quirk for the first time, Banjo did get loud at the start, but he did lecture him in a way that was kinda teacher-mentor-ish.

I actually like the way Banjo talks about his observances. He's got the demeanor of a good teacher, he's clear, and direct. He's light-hearted about serious things, but doesn't diminish them. He just approaches it in a way that you aren't feeling the pressure, and can feel like it's possible.

He seems to have this habit of being loud to get people's attention, and simmers down once he has it. He's never indirect or leaving the addressed to figure out the answer on their own, he gives it outright.

When Midoriya used Blackwhip for the first time, Banjo was all "You got it all wrong!" and then explained things. Since he felt himself fading, he could've been talking louder to compensate himself past the daze he felt. To make sure he was talking, heard, and to keep himself awake

When the first Three made the void silent because Kudo and Bruce didn't want to help, Banjo broke it with what Midoriya should do next

When Shinomori got yoinked, the first thing Banjo did was report it in a panic to Midoriya. This just tells Midoriya he really has to be careful now, because OFA can really be stolen. Even if Banjo just panics and doesn't say that aloud

Every time Banjo is facing some kind of problem, he doesn't let others panic too hard. He's not pressuring about problems, and steps back to let Midoriya figure things out.

When Midoriya was running himself into the ground, Banjo was one of the vestiges that didn't show up to tell him to rest. He already understood how Midoriya saw things, and was doing them his own way

Rather than trying to be a clown, I think Banjo is just a friendly person. He's honest with others and with himself, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to utilize Blackwhip right, or be the holder between a sagey hermit and young, scared adult.

[indiegame]

today was. good. yeah. needed that.

[onehundredelevven]

Toji w/ preggy wife + out-of-this-world cravings

Toji stared at the counter. The ingredients you demanded sat before him like a challenge issued by the gods: instant ramen, whipped cream, peanut butter, and pickles. A lineup so vile it could send even the most daring chef into an existential crisis.

"Are you serious about this, or am I just getting pranked?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

You sat on the couch, legs crossed, a pillow pressed against your baby bump as you gave him the most innocent look in return. "Dead serious."

"You want ramen topped with this… stuff? And you're gonna eat it."

"Yup."

Toji groaned, running a hand through his dark hair. Of course, you had to pick this moment in your pregnancy to throw curveballs at him. The man was many things—an ex-hitman, a gambler, a loving yet blunt husband—but a gourmet chef? Not so much.

Still, he got to work. He boiled water, ripped open the ramen packet, and eyed the whipped cream like it might explode if he got too close. The sound of the kettle whistling filled the silence, but your voice broke through soon after.

“Don’t forget to add peanut butter! Like a lottt.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, spooning a glob of it into the pot and stirring like his life depended on it. The smell was… not great. Toji’s nose wrinkled in pure, unfiltered disgust. “You sure this ain’t gonna poison the kid?”

“It’s what the kid wants, Toji. I’m just the messenger,” you quipped.

When it was finally done—complete with pickles carefully arranged on top—Toji approached you with the steaming bowl in hand. He hesitated, watching your excited expression as you reached for it.

“I can’t believe you’re actually gonna eat this. You’re insane,” he muttered, plopping down beside you on the couch.

“Hey, you married me,” you shot back, grabbing the bowl and digging in with absolutely no hesitation.

Toji watched, equal parts fascinated and horrified, as you slurped up the ramen, the whipped cream melting into the broth in a way that should’ve been illegal. He leaned back, arms crossed, still trying to wrap his head around the scene.

“This is actually amazing,” you said between bites, offering him the spoon. “Wanna try?”

He recoiled immediately, glaring at you like you’d suggested he jump off a cliff. “Not in a million years, woman.”

“Oh, come on. You can’t knock it ‘til you try it!”

“Yeah, well, I’ll take your word for it.”

Despite his grumbling, he stayed by your side, handing you napkins, fetching water when you needed it, and even cleaning up after you finished. Disgusted or not, there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d let you handle it yourself.

Later that night, as you snuggled into him in bed, you mumbled, “Thanks for putting up with me. And the weird cravings.”

Toji pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his hand resting protectively on your belly. “Tch. Don’t mention it. Just don’t ask me to eat that crap.”

But even as he complained, you knew he’d do it all over again if it made you and the baby happy.

[whosmariaaa]

— part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 !

college! sukuna was fucked. not only had he, the campus playboy, fallen in love. he had also made his said dream girl cry. and now you were ignoring him. no matter how much he tried he tried to talk to you, or push you in a corner, you refused to talk to him.

sukuna had tried every trick in the book. approaching you after class, coming to your dorm, talking to you in break time. it was getting desperate at this point, and oh, if his friends weren’t eating this up by now.

“you’re fucking pathetic, y’know that?” toji laughed mockingly as sukuna once again attempted to grab your attention at lunch. “didn’t ever think i’d see the sukuna this down bad for a girl,” gojo joined in.

“shut the fuck up, both of you. what’s so bad about apologizing? get off my fucking dick,” he retorted back. though neither gojo or toji were stopping there.

“you used to fuck a different girl every night, now you’ve been chasing after the same girl like a dog for weeks,” toji commented.

“a girl that hates you no less,” gojo snickered, “you’d get on all fours if it meant she’d forgive you, wouldn’t you?”

“if you two don’t shut the fuck up, i’m beating both of your asses up in front of everyone,” he scowled.

sukuna was seething. his friends wouldn’t shut the fuck up (when would they ever?), you were avoiding him at every chance you got, and he couldn’t get his mind off what happened. he felt like killing someone at this point.

you, on the other end, were getting sick of this. you were still in a foul mood from the 49% you got on the project, the same project you busted your ass off for. and sukuna still wasn’t giving up, though you weren’t giving him the light of day at all.

though, unfortunately, sukuna was very persistent, and he would catch up to you.

you were walking along the empty halls, a little late to class. but you felt somewhat at ease, which was the first time in days. that was until your vision was blocked by someone.

sukuna had yet again cornered you. “where you going, y/n?” he asked, looking down at you. you were not in the mood to deal with him, especially not right now.

“get the hell out of my way,” you snarled. he didn’t flinch at your irritated tone, and your blood started boiling once more when you notice the sides of his lips curling up into a smirk.

“aw, still pissed about last week? y’know i didn’t mean shit, y/n,” sukuna replied, though he seemed more genuine than taunting.

“i don’t give a shit. get out of my way,” you responded in annoyance. then, he had the audacity to grab your wrist when you started walking, pulling you back.

“listen, i’m sorry for making you cry, i didn’t think you’d be this fucking upset about it,” sukuna apologized, but it still didn’t make up for how you were feeling.

“great, man, now let me go,” you mumbled. you felt his grip tighten slightly.

“c’mon baby, i already apologized, what else do you want me to do?” he questioned, his tone growing less calm.

“for you to leave me the fuck alone, sukuna! jeez, man, how much clearer am i supposed to get? i don’t want to talk to you. you ruined this stupid project that i put my blood, sweat and tears into, and you didn’t do crap!” you told him sternly, before ripping your wrist out of his hold.

you grumbled a few irritated things under you breath, getting to class. and there went the feeling of peace you felt this morning.

sukuna thought he couldn’t be even more down bad for you, well, he was wrong. the way you stood up to his shit, oh girl, he was crazy about you.

he stood there in silence. should he drop this, and should he drop you? yes. will he do that? nah, absolutely not. he was in love, and pissed off you weren’t talking to him. that man wasn’t stopping at anything until you forgave him.

──★˙🍓̟!! okay guys wrap it up this is getting insane😭😭 again i feel so flattered with all the likes, comments and reblogs!!! and i’m sorry for this part idk, really more a filler part than anything im sorry, but part 7 is the last part!! it’s going to take a little longer because i attend to make it the longest part yet, so stay tuned 😝😝

— taglist ! @imlikeacoffeeconnoisseur @totallygyomeiswife @sukubusss @seizecherry @xlilycoco @v1x3n @go-go-gadget-autism @elizabeth-von-winken-universe @paradisestarfishh @whosmarjj @aquariusscollection @satorushousewife @rwirxles @anonnieghost @bitchpleaseeeeeeeeee @iminloveweveryone @poopooindamouf @phisen @ryomku @erintaro @clp-84 @mastermasterlist1p1 @katsukiseyebrows @iioveoldermen @happy2delivur @jup1tersuccubus 🍓

[gaykarstaagforever]

YouTube has this thing now called YouTube Playables (great name as usual, guys; it's not a children's snack pack), that are basically in-app "Flash games"-style things that are just enough game to keep you watching ads.

The ones of these that aren't direct ripoffs of owned IP (very specifically Zuma) are barebones exercises in that bog-standard FTP addictive mobile gaming loop we all know and hate but also LOVE, minus the in-app purchases (for the time being). Like, shallow systems that are fun for exactly 30 minutes, then get stupidly hard so you'll pay to win, though you can't do that yet, so...kind of pointless.

...I still spent FOUR HOURS playing these, because they tapped into my primitive lizard brain's desire to try and master an utterly meaningless task and then feel undooly smug about it.

I didn't get any ads, because I'm a stooge that pays real money to Google every month for this, because once you go adless, you CANNOT go back. Which kind of negates the whole point of these, as addictive time-wasters that keep you glued to the platform and its commercials? But I already pay for YouTube and STILL got caught in these, so I suppose everything is going according to YouTube's plan either way, and I need meaningful human relationships.

But THAT isn't going to happen any time soon! So let me waste another evening on these by reviewing some crap garbage games for idiots that no one cares about, on Tumblr dot com!

1. Totemia: Cursed Marbles

It's Zuma. That's it. With a couple minor tweaks that make it harder and more annoying.

Just license Zuma, YouTube. I think you can afford the, what, $25 that would cost atm?

2. Sword Play

An on-rails sword slashing game (you don't control the movement, just the slashing), and you kill plastic doll guys before they kill you.

At some point they get projectiles that move really fast, that you can only destroy via specific directional QTEs that don't register properly half the time, because this is all relative finger smearing across the screen.

It was fun before that. The guys fall apart specific to how you slash them. That's something.

3. Dessert DIY

This one sucks. You're just picking from very limited options, then doing specific motions to trigger animations that create desserts that don't even look much like the promo art. People request different things, but early game all they ask for is "whatever you want to make" and "do one out of poop with bugs on it to make someone I hate throw up."

And then there's an animation of someone accepting what is obviously poop with bugs on it from their sworn enemy, they eat it anyway, then vomit.

The only fun part about this is the shameless inclusion of NPCs that look like celebrities, specifically Billie Eilish, Kanye West, and Donald Trump.

If you want to make a poop ice cream cone with bugs on it and feed it to Trump until he vomits all over his desk, this is the game for you. Otherwise, this is meh even for one of these meh games.

4. Bowmasters

Dueling Angry Birds, but you have no control of the camera and it focuses on you so you have to trial-and-error the degree of angle and throwing force to figure out how to hit and kill your opponent before they hit and kill you.

There are many colorful pop culture-inspired combatants to unlock, with a huge variety of projectiles of different weights, sizes, and behaviors. This is the most "very nearly a real, good game" one of these.

...Except that the level progression forces you to do Bonus Rounds, and one of those is "knock fruit off the head of an opponent without hitting them, and you have to do this like 5 times in a row, and we move you further away from them another 30 yards every round, and you have to use a wildly different unique projectile every round, and you get 3 chances, and that includes if you miss entirely."

It is basically impossible to do this, because your ever-changing location makes calculating arcs and force, with the ever-changing projectiles, impossible, in this limited amount of attempts. It turns into grinding it out until RNG randomly makes you win.

Which is a shame, because otherwise, this is fun. But you WILL get stuck on a stupid fruit round and stop playing this.

5. Mob Control

You have a cannon that launches blue guys. The NPC opponent does red. You both are trying to bumrush the other's base, taking advantage of buttons and switches and bonus gates that speed you up or slow you down and multiply your number of guys. Guys annihilate each-other when they run into each-other, so you need to overwhelm Red before they overwhelm you.

It's fun until it gets so fast that it becomes a chore to manage where precisely to launch guys specifically to annihilate other guys.

6. Merge Master

This goddamn game. This was 3.5 hours of my 4 hour playtime.

You have a grid board, with you at the bottom and an opponent at the top. You both have an army of warriors and dinosaurs, and a team HP bar. You click go, the warriors fire projectiles and the dinosaurs melee the nearest enemy, and last man standing wins.

Before each round, you can arrange the placement of your army, and use money you won from the last rounds to buy more warriors and dinosaurs. But the kicker is, you can combine like warriors and dinosaurs to make more powerful units, which you keep at the end of every round. They don't gain XP or anything, but as you make more money, you can buy more 1st-level units (that's all you can buy), and gradually combine them and then combine the combinations, and on and on and on, making incredibly powerful new units. And you need a mix of low-level and high-level units to have enough melee dinosaurs and projectile-throwers to overwhelm high-level enemy units, or draw fire away from your own, against the ever-changing enemy army each round.

It's a process of slowly adding more units and combining them to make stronger and stronger units, and as many of them as you can get, accounting for the limited board space. Also the price of units rises exponentially each round, so you may have 1 trillion gold, but at this point a new 1st-level dinosaur costs 245 billion.

I couldn't stop with this. It just got me. I wanted to see new exciting high-level warriors and dinosaurs, and see how fast I could take the other army down. There's more than zero strategy at work here, and battles can vary substantially from round to round, depending on what mix of units the enemy brings to the board.

It's still a rudimentary Flash-esque game, and very much akin to those shitty mobile boss rush games that raid our shadow legends. But it's not PTW yet, and the graphics are a charming and distorted replica of early 2000s 3D games, like Age of Mythology or GTA 3. It felt like something, for awhile.

It isn't, and I wasted valuable battery charge on this stupid shit. But I was having fun. And sometimes, that's enough.

...And posting about it here. It's something to talk about that isn't the world eating itself.

And we all need that sometimes.

[rotapathetic]

HIMBO .ᐟ RAFE ┆ meeting reader ✶

❝ not all quite there . . .

. . . crazy with a wrench ❞

pure lapdog behavior 𖥔 unabashed showing off chaotic inner monologue 𖥔 himbo .ᐟ rafe’s introduction 𖥔

“hey, hey,” rafe slapped topper in the chest about five times until topper responded, “stop hitting me, i’m right here.”

rafe ducked down in his seat suddenly, bracing his head, “did she see me?” topper looked around, already over rafe’s behavior, “who? why are you in that position, you look like a fetus, dude.”

rafe peeked over his arms, seeing you were now turned around. he blew out a breath then responded, “that girl over there. you know her? don’t answer, i don’t want you to know her. actually, can you go over there and put in a good word?”

topper blanched, “i am so confused. do you want me to talk to her or not?” rafe shrugged, tilting his side to side, “a little. not too long. crap,” he said suddenly, ducking back down, “i think she looked over again. or am i delusional? i can’t tell anymore. she can’t see me until i’m ready.”

topper frowned, “ready? what are you about to do, you just healed your ankle from jumping two stories, don’t do that again.”

rafe shrugged, “i can and i will. just . . tell her about how much i can press. girls like that right? does she look like she’s into bench pressing? don’t look at her. say something about how i fix cars. and i can fix her car if she has a car. if she doesn’t, tell her i’ll buy her one.”

topper stood, making his way over while walking backwards, “so, that’s all gonna scare her. i got it,” he turned around, making his way towards you.

rafe shifted in his chair, crossing a leg over the over, then putting them back down. he stretched to flex his arms, then quickly put them down too. how the heck do you sit?

while rafe wondered that, topper was doing his best to introduce rafe, “he’s not all quite there . . crazy with a wrench, though.”

rafe looked up after he settled himself when you turned your head to look at him, smiling when you spotted him. that means go, right? rafe sprung up, making his way over, not being able to sit still for another second now that you looked at him. smiled at him.

“sup?” he said once he reached you two, gesturing his head for topper to go away. topper got the hint, returning to his seat. passing rafe, he muttered, “she doesn’t have a car.”

rafe blurted, “i can buy you one,” startling you. he wasn’t able to see topper shaking his head in disappointment as he walked away. your brows scrunched, “sorry?”

rafe smiled nervously, “me too. um, i can buy you a jacket. you look cold,” you realized you were rubbing your arm, “oh, yeah. no, it’s fine. not that bad,” you laughed slightly.

rafe shook his head, anxious you were cold and possibly uncomfortable, “no, if you’re cold, i’ll get you a jacket.”

you tilted your lips, “it’s fine, really. i’m leaving soon, anyway. kind of bored . . was that your friend?” you attempted conversation, but rafe was distracted, staring at you after you mentioned leaving, until he heard the last part of the sentence.

“huh? no, don’t think about him. where are you going?” he didn’t want you to leave yet. did topper talk about his bench press? did you care? did you want to see the callous on his hand from handling tools?

“uh . . just back home. my comfy place,” you muttered shyly. rafe nodded, then frowned. you don’t have a car, are you walking? alone? “i can walk you. i can buy you a jacket on the way. what kind of cars do you like?”

you couldn’t keep up with all that he said at once. you giggled, rafe slightly going weak in the knees at the sound, “sure, you can walk me. i’m still fine about the jacket. mustang’s are pretty cool. what’s your favorite?”

rafe responded distractedly, “the one that drives. you said i can walk you?”

you really have never met a guy like him, “yeah, but i don’t even know your name,” you narrowed your eyes, jokingly suspicious. you didn’t expect rafe’s response, “i’d endure fifteen stab wounds before i hurt you, i’m rafe,” he held his hand out.

your eyes widened, “oh . . don’t do that. nice to meet you,” you shook his hand, responding with your name, then turned to start walking. rafe followed alongside you, thinking about how sweaty his hands just were and how you probably didn’t like that. is he walking alright? are you sure you don’t want a jacket?

“your hand . . ” you suddenly spoke. rafe stilled slightly, scared you noticed the sweatiness. great one, rafe. but then you continued, “it felt rough. what’s on it?” rafe turned to you quickly, excited you brought it up and not the sweat thing. he extended his hand again, “i have a callous, look . . ”

[jxwl4k]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ baby fever .𖥔 ݁ ˖

☘︎ . . . genre. fluff

☘︎ . . . pairings. bakugou x fem!reader

⤿ after babysitting eri, bakugou develops unexpected baby fever, leading to sweet and heartfelt moments with yn as he imagines future with her.

⋆˚✿˖° j speaking . . .

- I got inspired by @sweeturavity story that is also called baby fever. I hope you don’t mind, I can take it down if you want to!

It wasn’t something Bakugou ever expected to feel. The mighty future Number One Hero, Katsuki Bakugou, did not get distracted by the thought of tiny humans with chubby cheeks and big eyes. Or so he told himself.

But lately, it had been hard to ignore.

It all started when he babysat Eri for an afternoon while Aizawa had an emergency. Bakugou was initially hesitant—kids were loud, sticky, and unpredictable. But when Eri reached out her small hand to hold his and gave him a shy smile, something in his chest did a funny flip. She had fallen asleep on his lap while watching cartoons, and Bakugou couldn’t stop staring at her peaceful face.

From then on, Bakugou started noticing babies and kids everywhere. During a trip to the mall with his friends, a toddler waddling around in a dinosaur onesie caught his eye. At a park nearby, a dad was teaching his little boy how to kick a ball, and Bakugou found himself watching longer than necessary.

He was annoyed with himself. He was Katsuki Bakugou. He didn’t have time to think about babies. But the thought of a tiny hand gripping his finger wouldn’t leave his head.

And then there was YN.

YN had always been the calm to his storm, the quiet presence that softened his sharp edges. She had a way of making him feel seen, understood, even when he didn’t say much. They weren’t officially a couple—yet. But Bakugou was sure she felt the same way he did.

Today, Bakugou found himself sitting on the couch in the dorm common area, scrolling through his phone. He wasn’t looking at training videos or hero interviews. No, he was watching videos of babies giggling at their parents’ silly antics.

“You okay, Katsuki?”

He nearly dropped his phone at the sound of YN’s voice. She was standing behind him, her head tilted in curiosity.

“Tch. What do you want?” he muttered, locking his phone quickly.

YN walked around the couch and sat beside him, her soft smile disarming him as always. “You’ve been acting weird lately,” she said, resting her chin on her hand. “Are you sure everything’s fine?”

“I’m fine,” he snapped, but the blush creeping up his neck betrayed him.

Her gaze drifted to his phone, which was still unlocked on the home screen. “Were you watching baby videos?”

Bakugou froze. “No!” he barked, his face going red.

YN’s laugh was light and sweet. “It’s okay, you know. Babies are adorable.”

“I wasn’t—ugh, fine!” he groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, okay? Ever since I babysat Eri, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“About what?” YN asked gently.

“About… having a kid. Someday,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. He refused to meet her eyes, staring instead at the coffee table. “It’s stupid, isn’t it? I’m too busy trying to be a hero to think about crap like that.”

YN’s heart softened at his vulnerable confession. She placed a hand on his arm, and he finally looked at her. “It’s not stupid,” she said softly. “It just shows you have a big heart. You’d make a great dad one day, Katsuki.”

He blinked, startled by her words. “You think so?”

She nodded. “You’re tough, but you care deeply. You’re protective and hardworking. Any kid would be lucky to have you as their parent.”

For the first time, Bakugou felt a weight lift off his chest. He allowed a small smile to tug at his lips. “You’d make a pretty great mom too, you know.”

YN’s cheeks turned pink, and she looked away, flustered. “Oh, um… thanks.”

Bakugou smirked at her reaction, feeling a rare sense of peace. Maybe one day, when they were both ready, they could tackle the adventure of parenthood together.

For now, he was content knowing he wasn’t alone in his thoughts—and that maybe, just maybe, his future wasn’t so far out of reach after all.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Forbidden Fruit.

That’s the thing about Declan - he always gets what he wants. It might be wrong… but it feels so right.

declan o’hara x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. use of the c word. age gap. cheating. declan’s filthy mouth needs its own warning.

word count - 2.3k

authors note - that man is a munch and I cannot be convinced otherwise. my crush on aidan turner has returned tenfold and i’m about to make it everyone’s problem. read declan’s dialogue in that gorgeous irish accent of his for the full experience.

masterlist. inbox.

You’ve fake laughed so much this afternoon that you can’t remember what your real one sounds like.

Finally breaking away from a conversation with Freddie’s wife, you swan across the garden in your sundress towards the food and drink table. You absentmindedly pick at the strawberries, hoping and praying that no one bothers you for a moment. All you need is a minute to yourself, away from all of these faux smiles and boastful exchanges.

Reaching towards a raspberry, you feel fingertips ghosting across your back quickly.

“Y’alright?”

You’d recognise that voice anywhere, of course, and not just because he’s the only Irish man in The Cotswolds.

“Bored out of my mind, actually.”

“You’d never know.”

“I’m a good actress, these days. I’ve done one too many of these stupid garden parties.”

He chuckles all genuine and honeyed, and you’d be lying if you said the sound didn’t settle warmly in your bones.

“Whatcha doing tonight?”

He’s keeping his voice low, inconspicuous. You’ve both turned so you’re looking out over the garden, backs to the table, watching the crowds of people and their gossiping. To anyone else, it looks like an innocent conversation between two acquaintances. They can’t see his hand playing with the hem of your dress behind you, or the way his fingers keep brushing the backs of your thighs, sending shivers down your spine.

“My boyfriend is coming over. You know that.”

“What time?”

You roll your eyes but answer anyway.

“Nine.”

“So what I’m hearing… is that you’re available from whenever this crap finishes until then?”

“That’s a stupid idea.”

“You usually love my stupid ideas.”

“Well maybe I’m trying to be smarter.”

He laughs with his full chest while you fight to keep the grin off your face, shaking your head.

“You’re already the smartest person here. Any smarter and we’re all doomed.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Declan.”

He pauses for a moment, pressing his side into yours and running his thumb across the soft skin of your thigh underneath your dress.

“I think we both know that’s not true, sweetheart.”

Your breath stutters as you will yourself to get it together, desperate to not repeatedly give in to his murmured promises and flirty remarks. It’s wrong. You know it is, both of you do, and yet…

“I want you gone by eight at the latest. I don’t need the two of you bumping into each other on my front step.”

He smirks like the cat that got the cream, looking down at you with lust drunk eyes.

“Good girl,” he whispers. “Promise to make it worth your while, yeah?”

“You always do,” you breathe out, so quietly that you’re surprised he hears.

He’s about to reply when you’re both startled by Rupert, striding over with the confidence of ten men and a bottle of champagne in his hand.

“Have they run out of glasses, CB?”

He slings an arm around your shoulder, laughing that rich man’s laugh right into your ear.

“Live a little, darling. Walk with me, will you? I have a story that might be worth your time, and I thought I’d bring it to my favourite journalist before anyone else.”

Rupert all but drags you across the garden, already chattering on about a scandal in the local constituency of the Conservative Party. You cast your eyes back to where Declan hasn’t moved, his gaze roving over your figure as you walk away.

He winks cheekily, dirty smirk slapped across his face.

You hate the way it sends electricity running through your veins in anticipation.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

It’s six forty five when there’s a knock on your door.

The devil himself is standing on your front step, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his broad chest.

“Hi darlin’.”

His accent is like molten honey, golden and warm and laced with sweetness. There’s mischief running through it though - as there always is.

“Come on,” you urge, grabbing his tie and pulling him inside, worried that one of your neighbours will see.

He laughs as he shuts the door behind him, unphased by your urgency.

“Thought you had a meeting. CB was telling me all about it earlier.”

“Rupert would tell you anything,” he chuckles. “He’s got a soft spot for pretty girls.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” you giggle, undoing his tie from around his neck and hanging it on your coat rack.

“No. I have a soft spot for one pretty girl.”

“Sweet talker,” you tease as you roll your eyes, undoing the first few buttons on his shirt. “How about you put your money where your mouth is, hmm? We don’t have all night.”

He clicks his tongue, hands finding your hips to pull you against him.

“Patience, sweetheart,” he murmurs, leaning in so his lips brush yours. “Good things come to those who wait.”

“Less talking,” you scold, grabbing at his biceps to kiss him desperately.

Declan pushes you up against the wall, hips pressing into yours as he slips his tongue into your mouth. He tastes like cigarettes and whiskey and those mints he keeps in a tin in his back pocket. He scatters open mouthed kisses across your neck, licking across your skin and sucking the spot underneath your ear.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he mumbles. “Ever since I saw you in this dress.”

“You like it?” you breathe, head rolling to the side to give him more access.

“I fucking love it.”

“Good. Bought it for you.”

He groans, grinding his hips into yours.

“You’re a minx,” he pants, biting at your shoulder. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”

With that, Declan wraps his arms around your middle, practically dragging you into the living room to throw you onto the sofa. He pulls your dress over your head, throwing it onto the floor with reckless abandon.

He instantly gets on his knees in front of you, spreading your legs with rough hands.

“Been waitin’ for this cunt all fuckin’ day.”

Your underwear is tugged down and discarded before you can blink, leaving you naked and high on the anticipation of it all. Your lungs are heaving, hands shaking as you will him to do something.

Declan sits back on his haunches, making a show of rolling up his sleeves. He looks so broad and commanding in his blue jeans with his shirt undone. He might be the one on his knees, but he’s definitely still in charge here.

You tangle your fingers into his dark hair and tug, pulling him closer.

“Please, Dec.”

“You sound so beautiful when ya beg.”

He grips your thighs tightly, ensuring they stay apart, as he leans in and presses kisses to any skin he can find.

“Don’t tease.”

“Or what, hmm? What are ya gonna do, sweetheart?”

“Stop it,” you chastise, head dropping back onto the cushions. “Please, baby.”

He chuckles before diving forwards, licking a stripe through your core. He wastes no time, tongue flicking over your clit like he’s done so many times before.

“Yeah,” you breathe out, fingers gripping his hair tightly. “Fuck, Declan.”

You’re convinced he enjoys this just as much as you do. He’ll eat you out for hours, never once expecting something in return - happy to feel you fall apart on his tongue again and again and again.

He knows exactly which spots will have you arching your back, how much pressure to use to have you writhing on the sofa cushions, where to put his hands to push you right over the edge. He can play you like a fiddle, observant and experienced.

His nose nudges your clit as he fucks you with his tongue, messy and wet and completely committed. The grip he has on your thighs is getting tighter and tighter, fingertips bruising your skin. You pray you’ll be able to see the marks when you look in the mirror tomorrow.

You’re teetering on the edge of your release, legs shaking and abdomen tightening. Declan can read you like a book, knowing exactly where you’re at - and taking advantage of it.

Just as you’re about to come, he pulls away and sits back, grinning like a deviant.

“No,” you’re panting. “The fuck are you doing?”

He laughs, leaning down to rest his head on your leg. He looks up at you with a gaze that’s half lust and half mischief, biting at his lip as he watches your chest heave.

“What do you want, darlin’?”

You pout at him, tears welling in your eyes.

“Come on, let me hear you say it. I want you to beg me to make you come. Tell me how you’ve been waiting for it all day, sweetheart.”

“I-Declan, I just-”

“Come on smart girl, use that big brain of yours. Why don’t you tell me all about how you think about me when you touch yourself? No - why don’t you tell me how you think about me while he fucks you?”

Your hips buck up into the air, desperate for any kind of friction. Declan laughs cruelly, wrapping his arms around your thighs again to pull you to the edge of the sofa, the strength he exerts only turning you on more.

“It’s okay,” he soothes against your core. “You don’t have to tell me. Your dripping wet cunt tells me everything I need to know, darlin.”

All you can do is moan, breathing like you’ve run a marathon. All you can see, all you can hear, all you can feel is Declan O’Hara.

“If we had the time, I’d edge you some more. Eat you out until you cried. You always look so pretty when you’re crying f’me.”

He finally takes pity on you, curling his tongue inside you as his nose repeatedly bumps against your clit. He’s practically making out with your core, saliva dripping down your thighs and onto the sofa. You can’t bring yourself to care about the mess, more focused on the older man’s mouth and the skills it possesses.

You’re whining, fingernails digging into his scalp as you grasp for something to hold onto. He’s groaning too, having just as much as fun as you are.

“Come for me, pretty girl. Show me how fucking beautiful you look.”

Your back bows off the sofa as you grind against his face, riding out your climax. Your thighs tighten around his head, desperate for him to keep going for as long as possible.

“That’s it. Atta girl. There we go.”

You’re trying to catch your breath as Declan stands up, sitting down next to you and pulling you into his side. His fingers draw patterns on your hips, absentmindedly calming you down as you nestle into him, seeking out his body heat.

You lean up and kiss him, slipping your tongue into his mouth eagerly. He tastes like you, and the realisation makes you whinge.

“Let me return the favour, please,” you whisper against his lips.

“As much as I’d love that, darlin’… we can’t.”

You quirk a brow at him in confusion, his rejection more than unusual.

“It’s twenty past eight.”

“Oh, shit,” you groan, finding your underwear and pulling them up your legs.

“I wish I could stay,” he reassures as he kisses you again sweetly. “You know I do.”

You nod, running your fingers through his sweat soaked locks to move them out of his face.

“Promise I’ll repay you next time.”

“I’ll hold ya to that.”

The phone ringing startles you both, your heart jumping in your chest. You pick it up quickly, wrapping the cord around your finger.

“Hello? How are you? Ah, good. Yes, fine. Alright, I’ll see you then. Yes, see you soon. Mhmm… I can’t wait either.”

You put it down just as quickly as you picked it up, finding your dress from the floor and pulling it over your head.

“That was Patrick. He’s at the train station, about to start the drive back here. He won’t be long.”

“I best get going then,” Declan says as he buttons up his shirt. “Don’t need a family reunion in your living room now, do we?”

You shake your head, scoffing at his attempt at a joke. Walking him to the front door, you press his tie from the coat rack into his hand so he doesn’t forget it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, won’t I? You’re coming for lunch at the house?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you say as you lean up to kiss him, sighing at the taste of his lips. “I’ll wear that lacy white lingerie under my dress just for you.”

“Great,” he groans. “Now I have to think about my son seeing that on you when it should be me.”

“You might,” you tease, smoothing out his shirt. “There’s a lot of rooms in that house, Declan.”

“You’re a minx.”

He kisses you once more, big hands cradling your face as he pulls you in.

“See ya tomorrow, sweetheart.”

“Yes, you will.”

You watch him go from your front step, making sure no one sees him leave. As soon as he’s out of sight, you’re shutting the door, trying to tidy the living room frantically. You open the windows, lighting a candle and picking up everything that was knocked to the floor in the lust filled frenzy. You’re covering your tracks as best you can, just like you’ve done countless times before.

You don’t need Patrick asking why the room smells like his dad’s aftershave.

You don’t need Patrick asking questions at all.

a little gift for you, as promised…

@do-it-for-kicks @whytheylosttheirminds @laverna-fanfictions @graceflorence

and of course, if you enjoyed this - throw me a little reblog if you so wish… help a girl out… <3

[ratatoilett]

episode title : the one where she suggests marriage (again)

nylu's note : excited to make this a mundane cutesy series of they're shenanigans omg!

tags : @toniiiiiireads @cuntyji @nakiich @rriwyu @your-mum3000 @lulunx @heiejdhdh @oracle014 @sukubusss @noooo-onee @sanestsanstan @minasuniverse @muli-wam @bearchermer @younjunie @kunasthiast @nina-from-317

series masterlist

INT. SUKUNA'S APARTMENT - TUESDAY - 11:00 AM

at this point, sukuna has accepted that you are an unavoidable disaster in his life.

like an earthquake. or a tornado. or a really persistent telemarketer that keeps calling even when he explicitly tells them to stop.

he doesn't know when it happened. one day, you showed up. the next, you never left.

and the worst part? he let's you.

not without protest, of course. plenty of "get out before i throw you out," and "touch my stuff and you lose a hand," and "if you breathe near me while i'm eating, i will make sure you regret it."

none of which work.

because here you are, again, sitting on his couch, eating his chips, watching his TV—wearing his hoodie (at this point he doesn't even care how you got that in the first place).

you're kicked back, feet on the coffee table, and way too damn comfortable for someone who has been explicitly told to leave at least 500 times.

sukuna scowls.

"okay", you announce, popping another chip into your mouth. "new plan."

he doesn't even look up from his phone. "no."

"you didn't even hear it yet!"

"and yet, i already know it's gonna be fucking stupid."

you ignore him, as always. "hypothetically speaking, what if we got married?"

his head snaps up so fast you think he might've given himself whiplash.

"the hell did you just say?"

"i said—"

"i heard what you said," he growls, tossing his phone onto the coffee table. "the question is, why do you insist on making me suffer?"

you tilt your head, lips curling into a grin. "oh, so you admit the thought of being my husband affects you?"

"i admit that the thought makes me want to set myself on fire."

you hum, unbothered. "well, that's not a no."

sukuna pinches the bridge of his nose. "explain. now."

"well," you begin, dramatically tossing a chip into your mouth, "if we got married, i'd finally have a legal excuse to annoy you forever."

"you don't need a legal excuse. you're already doing it."

you ignore that. "plus, think about it! you, me, joint bank accounts—"

"absolutely fucking not."

"—matching outfits—"

"i will end you."

"—and cute little pet names! i'd call you 'suku-bear'."

sukuna glares. "i will throw you off my balcony."

"come on! you'd have cute nicknames for me too."

he smirks, and for a second, you think you might've won.

then—

"yeah. it's 'nuisance.'"

you gasp, pressing a hand to your chest. "how dare you? i was going to give you my last name, and this is how you treat me?"

sukuna levels you with a flat look. "you break into my apartment on a daily basis. you eat my food. you talk too much. you leave your crap everywhere. i should be charging you rent."

"that's actually a great idea! hypothetically speaking, what if i just moved in permanently?"

sukuna exhales so hard you think he might combust. "get. out."

"but i brought dinner," you chirps, holding up a takeout bag. "your favorite."

silence.

a long, long, long silence.

"fine. you can stay."

you grin in victory, setting the food down on the table. "that's what i thought."

sukuna rolls his eyes, snatching the takeout bag like you might change your mind and steal it back. "for the record, i still hate you."

"for the record, you love me," you counter plopping down beside him. "and someday, hypothetically speaking, you'll admit it."

sukuna doesn't respond, too busy stuffing food into his mouth.

but later, when he thinks you're not looking, you catch it—

the way his eyes linger on you, soft in a way they never are with anyone else.

the way his finger twitch, like he wants to pull you closer but refuses to give in.

the way his lips curl just slightly at your stupid jokes, even as he scowls at you.

the way, when you eventually fall asleep on his couch (again), he doesn't wake you up.

he just sighs.

long. heavy. defeated.

then he grabs the blanket off the back of the couch and tosses it over to you.

not gently, of course. that would be admitting things.

but he lingers. just for a second.

and when you mumble something in your sleep—something ridiculous, something about hypothetically marrying him—he just shakes his head.

because someday—someday—he's going to give in.

he already knows it.

and, damn you, so do you.

[studioeisa]

a lesson in begging 🚇 soonyoung x reader x jihoon.

jihoon learns the art of saying 'please', courtesy of his best friend and his best friend's girlfriend.

★ word count: 3.7k ★ genre/warnings: 18+ content. smut with 🤏 pinch of plot; jihoon-centric after the intro. established relationship (soonyoung x reader), mentions of female anatomy, pet names (s: ‘baby’, ‘goddess’, ‘good boy’). exhibitionism, voyeurism, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, so much begging, both soonyoung and jihoon are kind of pathetic [lovingly] in this one.  ★ footnotes: once again, when your biases release a song single album, you write the goddamn smut (2). shoutout to urbano latino & reggaeton music for getting me through this, and to @gyubakeries, @gotta-winwin & @diamonddaze01 for the hand-holding.

Soonyoung likes to think he’s a pretty generous guy. 

He’s never selfish about what he has. He shares when he can to anyone who asks. You, in particular, never have time to want anything; your darling boyfriend is attune to anything your heart might ever desire.

And if that just so happens to be his best friend Jihoon? Well, like we’ve established: Soonyoung is always going to give. 

You hadn’t really been discreet about it. You’d been guilty, maybe, but you were a language that Soonyoung was fluent in. He saw the way you’d watch Jihoon while the latter worked out, saw the way your face would light up when you’d hear the other man was coming over for one reason or another. 

A normal boyfriend would have been alarmed, might have thrown a fit. But Soonyoung was never normal to begin with. 

And— he never admitted this to you, did he?— he’d rather it be Jihoon than anyone else, anyway. 

You’re mortified when Soonyoung first brings it up. You’re ready to apologize for thinking Jihoon is sex on legs, but then Soonyoung makes his proposition. 

“I promised I’d give you everything, baby.” His voice is sweet and earnest. There’s no hint of maliciousness in it; he’s not using this as leverage. “Let me get you this, too.” 

That’s another thing about Soonyoung: It’s always been so hard to say ‘no’ to him. 

Jihoon is convinced this is some form of elaborate prank.

The words that just came out of Soonyoung’s mouth have yet to register to him. After ‘not a threesome’ a couple of sentences ago, Jihoon just kind of blanked out. 

You’re sitting on the edge of the bed you share with Soonyoung. You look pretty, Jihoon thinks, but then he corrects himself. You’re always pretty. 

Crap. That’s what got him in this situation, isn’t it? 

Jihoon takes a steadying breath when he realizes that you and Soonyoung are waiting for a response. “I’m sorry,” says Jihoon, keeping his voice as even as possible, “but what the actual fuck?” 

Soonyoung snickers. You look a little less amused. You elbow your boyfriend, a look of mild horror crossing your expression. 

“You didn’t warn him before inviting him over?” you seethe.

Soonyoung rubs the side you’d hit.  “I thought we could all talk about it together,” he shoots back. “You know, like a proper discussion.” 

“A discussion,” Jihoon echoes. He’s not sure if it’s you or him that’s going to throttle Soonyoung first. 

Jihoon’s mental list of how he intends to physically harm Soonyoung comes to a temporary pause. You’re looking at Jihoon, now, with an expression that’s almost apologetic. It makes something seize up in the man’s chest. 

“I didn’t mean to put you in an uncomfortable situation,” you say. “I just thought…” 

You trail off, and it’s the cruelest cliffhanger Jihoon has ever witnessed. “Thought what?” he prompts, shoving his hands in his pockets. That way, you wouldn’t have to see how he’s started shaking. 

Soonyoung finishes what you started. “We thought you wanted this.”

As if to explain what this was, Soonyoung reaches over from behind you and places his hand on your thigh. Jihoon’s eyes flick to the movement, but he looks away just as quickly. 

Soonyoung gives your thigh a light, reassuring squeeze. His eyes never leave Jihoon’s face. There’s a bit of a challenge, a hint of something serious. Like Soonyoung is daring Jihoon to deny his wants, deny this, deny you.

You— looking criminally lovely, watching Jihoon with caution and concern. There’s an undercurrent of distress in your expression, mixing with the annoyance at Soonyoung’s lack of tact. 

Jihoon swallows around the lump in his throat. He says something. It’s barely above a whisper. 

“Pardon?” you call out.

To hell with it, Jihoon thinks. To hell with it all.

He tries again, pitching his voice a little louder. “I do,” he says, wavering a bit on the words, “want this.” 

Want you, he had meant to say, but he chickened out at the last moment. It doesn’t matter. You and Soonyoung hear it anyway, and both your expressions shift into something more pleasant. Soonyoung looks smug. You, reassured. 

The room suddenly feels a lot warmer. There’s still considerable distance between Jihoon and the two of you. It’s the only thing keeping him sane, really. 

“That’s good.” The sheer relief in your tone could drive Jihoon crazy. You go on, “I would have hated to misread.” 

Misread which part, Jihoon wonders. The way his eyes always lingered a little too long on the hems of your shorts and skirts? The way all his sharp edges would soften when it came to you? 

Jihoon wants you, has wanted you for months. He had convinced himself that he was The World’s Worst Best Friend Ever, even. But Soonyoung is now looking at Jihoon like the latter is the opposite of that. The World’s Best Best Friend Ever— for agreeing to please you.

This arrangement would undoubtedly have consequences, even if it were a one-time thing. Jihoon can’t bring himself to care, though. He’s not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

He closes the distance, reveling in the tension that crackles with each step. You tilt your head back ever so slightly in a bid to never break eye contact with Jihoon. 

“You didn’t misread,” Jihoon says quietly. “I— you’re pretty.” 

He had hoped to soften the blow with I think, but why deny himself of the plain and simple truth? You’re so soft as you look up at Jihoon, the gratitude written all over your face. The tender moment is short-lived, though, because Soonyoung inevitably butts in. 

“Just pretty?” Your boyfriend sounds offended on your behalf. “Is that all you’ve got, Jihoon?” 

“Soonyoung,” you chide, but the older man barrels on. 

“Pretty isn’t enough,” Soonyoung insists. His hand slides up your thigh, tugging your dress up a little higher. This time, Jihoon lets himself watch, lets himself appreciate your skin as it’s revealed to him. “Do better, Jihoon.” 

“What might you suggest?” Jihoon asks, unable to look away from the hint of red lace underneath your dress. 

Soonyoung hums lowly. He leans forward, his teeth catching at your earlobe as he keeps your back pressed firmly against his chest. 

“Ethereal,” Soonyoung whispers reverently. “Gorgeous.” 

There wasn’t a doubt in Jihoon’s mind that Soonyoung adored you, practically worshipped the ground you worked on. This made the whole situation even more surreal, but Jihoon can’t look away— at how your eyes flutter close, how your breath hitches ever so slightly.

You’re so damn responsive. Jihoon’s heart thunders in his chest. He can’t imagine how this will end, and it hasn’t even begun. 

“Baby,” you say, and Soonyoung quits his teasing. 

He rests his chin on your shoulder and fixes his gaze on Jihoon. “If you want something,” Soonyoung drawls, “you’re going to have to beg for it.” 

For the first time that night, Jihoon’s facade of calculated calmness crumples. Beg for it? Jihoon wasn’t about to beg Soonyoung for a thing. Soonyoung was the one calling in for a favor, technically. As badly as Jihoon wants you, he can’t imagine himself ever being on his knees for Soonyoung. For anything. 

Soonyoung notices Jihoon’s agitation. The blonde’s face breaks out into a shit-eating grin, the kind that promises trouble for days. 

“Like this,” Soonyoung chirps, and then he pulls the rug underneath Jihoon’s feet. 

Soonyoung shifts on the bed, moving around until he’s at your side instead of cradling you from behind. He presses his knees into the mattress and he wrings his hands together, his face tilted towards yours. 

“Please,” Soonyoung tells you sweetly. “Please, please, baby?”

Jihoon’s brain short-circuits. He barely has time to think holy shit before Soonyoung ups his act, showering you with compliments about how perfect you are, about how badly he needs— needs, not wants— you.

You smile a bit before putting Soonyoung out of his misery. It’s not the first time Jihoon has seen the two of you make out, but it’s the first time that you open your eyes mid-kiss to glance at Jihoon, as if checking to see if he’s still watching. 

Soonyoung isn’t dealing the cards tonight. You are. 

Noted, Jihoon thinks, as he watches you lick into Soonyoung’s mouth. Your boyfriend lets out a sound between a guttural moan and a happy hum. He pulls away a moment later, his grin dopey and his gaze unfocused. 

“Good boys get rewarded,” Soonyoung tells Jihoon matter-of-factly.  

Jihoon winces. God, he’d rather die than be called a ‘good boy’ by Kwon Soonyoung, of all people. Jihoon is mentally weighing the pros and cons of this whole situation when Soonyoung shuffles backward, leaning against the headboard. Now, it’s just you and Jihoon at the foot of the bed. 

He doesn’t know what he should do. Sit? Kiss you senseless? Soonyoung answers for him— 

“Beg, Jihoon.” Soonyoung’s tone brooks no argument. “Tell my girlfriend what you want from her.” 

You look expectant. Jihoon hadn’t noticed that earlier. So much of you was unassuming, from your perceived shyness to your sundress hiding the red lingerie that was undoubtedly hugging all your curves right. The thought of it makes the front of Jihoon’s jeans feel a lot tighter. 

He clears his throat. He got this far; he might as well. And nobody outside this room would have to know, right? 

“Please,” Jihoon mumbles. 

He expects Soonyoung to speak up, so he’s a bit thrown when you’re the one who goes for the jab. “What was that?” you ask, and it would be innocent if it weren’t for the hint of a smirk on your lips. 

Jihoon inwardly prays for the ground to swallow him whole. When that doesn’t happen, he instead grits out his next words. 

“Please,” he says through his teeth. “May I kiss you?” 

It’s a piss poor attempt, but you’re nothing if not benevolent. Your fingers close around the front of Jihoon’s shirt and you tug him downward. 

He nearly stumbles when he feels your mouth against him. Jihoon isn’t sure if he can touch, whether he can even manage, so he ends up grabbing fistfuls of the sheets beneath you as you give him what he asked for. 

You kiss him so sweetly. It’s a dangerous thing, one that Jihoon fears he could grow addicted to if he wasn’t careful. Your tongue traces Jihoon’s bottom lip as if testing the waters, and he fights the urge to grab you by the waist and show you exactly how that makes him feel. 

The kiss breaks with the two of you gasping for air. Jihoon doesn’t know when he leaned further into your personal space, but he can feel your heaving chest against his own and it’s maddening. 

Jihoon had been so lost in the moment he’d forgotten Soonyoung was there, even. The latter pipes up, acutely aware that the kiss hadn’t been enough. That you’d pulled away too soon, leaving Jihoon in absolute shambles. 

“If you want more,” Soonyoung says, “you’re going to have to beg harder, Jihoon.”

This is either the best or the worst thing that has ever happened to Jihoon. He’ll decide later, he thinks to himself, as his hands finally find purchase at your hips.

Miraculously, Jihoon finds his voice. “Let me taste you.” Every moment in this room is chipping away at his pride, if the way he whines out the next word is any indication. 

“Please,” Jihoon says desperately, despairingly. 

It was the very first thing Jihoon remembered learning as a child. Say please, he had been taught. It’s the polite thing to do. It shows you have good manners. 

There’s nothing polite about the way Jihoon finds himself in between your thighs. There’s nothing good-mannered about the moans he tears out of you, about the way your fingers tug at his hair in a way that’s almost painful. 

You’re on your back, your head in Soonyoung’s lap as Jihoon works on you like a man starved. Your dress is pushed up your chest; Soonyoung could take the opportunity to play with your breasts. Instead, he keeps your hair out of your face and lovingly gazes at you as you thrash underneath Jihoon’s assault. 

“Enjoying yourself, baby?” Soonyoung coos.

Your response— something between yes and fuck you— breaks off into a keening whine when Jihoon doubles his efforts. He diligently laps up the slick of your sopping cunt before introducing his fingers; the two digits slide in with little to no resistance, and he rewards you by sucking on your clit. 

“Jihoon,” you cry out, your back arching off the bed. “Oh my God, Ji— hng— where did you—?” 

“Learn all that?” Soonyoung interjects. You’re too preoccupied to care about your boyfriend interrupting, too focused on Jihoon who has started crooking his fingers. “You know what they say, baby. It’s always the quiet ones you have to look out for.” 

Jihoon isn’t about to try and contest Soonyoung, not when you’re writhing so beautifully underneath his mouth. It’s borderline painful, the way Jihoon is grasping your hip like his life depends on it. 

An obscene slurp and the tease of another finger is all it takes to have you falling over the edge. Jihoon slows his ministrations, enjoying the feel of you tightening around his fingers. 

He pulls away as you come back down to earth. The entire lower half of his face glistens with your slick. Jihoon is obnoxious enough to dart his tongue around his mouth and smack his lips, as if trying to taste as much of you as possible. 

Soonyoung cackles. He’s enjoying this far more than he probably should. You can tell, though; there’s a tent in your boyfriend’s sweatpants, his clothed hardness pressing against your cheek. 

You nuzzle closer to it, a wordless whine escaping you. Soonyoung gets the message.

“Come on, baby,” he coaxes, guiding you further up the mattress. As he helps you out of your dress, Jihoon situates himself a bit better at the foot of the bed. 

He’s in desperate need of friction himself. Absent-mindedly, he palms himself over his jeans, watching as Soonyoung guides you to get on all fours. 

Soonyoung’s clothes join yours on the floor. It isn’t the first time that Jihoon has seen Soonyoung’s cock— a story for another time— but there’s still a moment where the younger man is jolted. Having experienced, now, just how tight you are, Jihoon can’t even fathom how Soonyoung can fit inside you. 

If either of you notice Jihoon’s attempts to relieve himself, you’re both graceful enough to not comment on it. Soonyoung focuses on bracing himself behind you, one hand resting at your waist while the other gives his cock a couple of leisurely pumps. 

You’re already primed to be fucked, but Soonyoung is taking his time. No, Jihoon realizes. 

Soonyoung is putting on a show. 

There’s a lazy smirk on Soonyoung’s face when he locks eyes with Jihoon. For a moment, Jihoon is tempted to stop touching himself, but it’s like he physically can’t stop himself. Meanwhile, Soonyoung is busying himself with rubbing the length of his cock against the curve of your ass— giving you time to recover from your orgasm while also making Jihoon suffer. 

“Wanna fuck my girlfriend, Jihoon?” Soonyoung taunts. “Want her greedy cunt around your cock, hm?” 

You let out a low hiss of warning as Jihoon bites back a moan. Soonyoung reels in his bravado, sliding his hand up to entangle his fingers in your hair. 

“Sorry, baby,” he says soothingly. “Didn’t mean to talk about you like that.” 

Soonyoung pushes your hair over your shoulder so he has better access to your back. He places a couple of kisses across your shoulder blades before glancing back up at Jihoon, the earlier mischievousness considerably dialed down now. 

“You know what you have to do,” Soonyoung tells Jihoon. “She’s in charge. Ask.” 

The remnants of Jihoon’s shredded pride hold him back. To ask for a kiss, to ask to eat you out— what the hell, sure. To ask if he can fuck you into next week? 

Jihoon squeezes himself through his pants, his gaze fixated on the way you’re looking up at him with dazed anticipation. He almost salivates at the thought of your soft, warm walls trying to accommodate him. 

Alas, his blasted pride. Jihoon opens his mouth then promptly clamps it close, unable to bring himself for this. 

Soonyoung lets out a low ‘tch’ of disapproval. “Suit yourself,” he huffs. 

Like a switch that had been flipped, Soonyoung now focuses all his attention on you. “Goddess,” your boyfriend says against your skin, his tone so loving that Jihoon feels like he’s intruding. “Can I make you feel good? Make you finish a second time tonight?”

You give a jerky nod, canting your hips backward until Soonyoung is lined up with you. “Yes, baby,” you whimper, keeping your eyes on Jihoon despite the fact you’re seeking out Soonyoung. “Want you inside me right now.” 

“I know, I know,” Soonyoung groans like your words have brought him pain, like it physically hurts him to hear you plead for anything. “I’ll give, baby. I’ll give.” 

Soonyoung slides home, benefiting from the slickness of your first orgasm. The two of you let out twin moans. It takes everything in Jihoon not to come on the spot. 

Jihoon never thought he’d been into this. He’s frozen, incapable of moving or looking away, as Soonyoung plows into you with practiced thrusts. Your fingers twist into the sheets below you and you struggle to keep your head up, your eyes open. 

Your gaze is half-lidded as you watch Jihoon’s slack-jawed expression. It has you fluttering around Soonyoung, who squeezes the flesh of your ass in retaliation. 

“Shit.” Your boyfriend picks up his relentless pace, his free hand carefully pressing between your shoulder blades. You sink a little further into the mattress and Soonyoung takes advantage of it, driving himself deeper into you. 

“You like having an audience, baby?” Soonyoung breathes.

Somehow, you manage to nod. Jihoon’s fingers close a little tighter around the outline of his jeans and, slowly, tentatively, he goes back to rubbing himself through the rough material. It’s equal parts painful and pleasurable but he figures it’s what he deserves for getting off to his best friend’s girlfriend. 

“Tell me what he looks like,” Soonyoung urges, his hands tangling into your hair again. He clutches at your roots and pulls your head back enough so that you have a better view of Jihoon. “Describe it for me, please.” 

Soonyoung is always so polite and tender when it comes to you. Jihoon gets you, now; he really does. That doesn’t help the way his dick twitches when he sees the blissed out look on your face, like being stuffed with Soonyoung’s cock had somehow fucked all the thoughts out of your head.

Jihoon must not be looking any better than you, because there’s a ghost of a smile on your face as you fulfill your boyfriend’s request. “He looks desperate,” you mewl, your fingers flexing around the crumpled sheets underneath you. “Looks like he needs something, baby.” 

Soonyoung chuckles. “And what does he need?” 

“Dunno.” You roll your hips to meet one of Soonyoung’s thrusts, drawing a heated cuss from the man. “He isn’t asking.” 

A muscle in Jihoon’s jaw ticks. Oh, this was a different kind of torture. He has half the mind to pull his pants down and shove his dick in your mouth to shut—

“Be nice, baby,” Soonyoung warns, “or else I won’t let you finish.” 

It’s an empty threat. Even Jihoon knows that much. You have Soonyoung wrapped around your little finger, and your boyfriend will go to the ends of the world to please you. 

Still, you play along. You attempt to apologize, but the word breaks off when Soonyoung slides his fingers over to your clit. His thrusts are uncoordinated with the circles he draws over the sensitive nub, but you don’t seem to mind. 

Your eyes are watery from the onslaught of sensations, your legs are shaky, and your lips are parted in a perpetual gasp. Jihoon thinks it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 

A sound finally escapes him. It’s a quiet thing— barely a moan— but Soonyoung catches it anyway. 

“You’re already on your knees,” Soonyoung tells you quietly, conspiratorially. “How about you show Jihoon how we ask in this relationship, hm?” 

It’s so quick, so sudden. Jihoon barely has time to catch on and prepare himself before you’re surging forward, your fingers wrapping around his wrist. You replace his hand with your lips, mouthing his hardness over his jeans. 

You’re just as sloppy as Soonyoung. There’s no method to the way you clamp your lips over Jihoon’s clothed cock. It’s all drool, a hint of teeth. A crude imitation of what it’d be like if you actually took him in your mouth. 

And Jihoon— he’s surprised he’s still breathing, actually. His hands find purchase at your shoulders, torn between pushing you off and keeping you in place. He settles for the latter, his eyes blown wide as he watches you give him this perverse blowjob.

“Fuck,” Jihoon rasps. “Fuck, fuck, fuuuck—” 

You look up at him then. It’s not your eyes that does him over. Not your sweat-slicked forehead or your flushed cheeks. No, it’s the way you pull away ever so briefly, your entire body rocking as Soonyoung continues to pummel into you. 

Your breath is warm over Jihoon’s crotch as you whine a single word. 

“Please?” 

He doesn’t even know what you’re asking for. Regardless, he busts his load with a pained grunt. It’s uncomfortable to come undone in his boxers, with his pants still on, but he can’t help himself.

Soonyoung follows not long after, emptying his load into you. He hisses as he finishes, his own climax bringing you to your second high.

You slump forward, your mouth instinctively latching back onto Jihoon’s waning hardness. He’s so sensitive, but he makes no effort to pull you away from his front. Soonyoung doesn’t seem keen on moving yet either, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles into the skin of your hips.

“See?” Soonyoung says, his voice wrecked but his grin as annoyingly smug as ever. “Good boy, Jihoon.” 

[pinkfishtank]

Back in your arms

Pairing:Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!reader

Summary:Bucky finally comes back from the blip. And he seemed to have missed you a fuck ton.

Word count:3.5k

Warnings:smut/18+mdni/hickeys/shower sex/pet names (just baby)/fingering/a little angst/dirty talk/unprotective sex/female reader/ FIRST TIME WRITING SMUT IM SORRY.

Prompts:He be missing you a lot/“can you still take it?/fluff? and smut

Author’s Note:LIKE I SAID THIS IS NEW TO ME IM NOT USED TO WRITING SMUT. But this came in mind after I saw some post on here and was like “hehehehehheehhe”. So here I was writing till 5 in the morning. Anyways enjoy and like I said I love tips and advice.

The blip was…weird, terrifying, left the world confused and scared that maybe the rapture had came.

At first it was heartbreaking to you. Bucky had just never came back home. You were confused like many others and that lead you to so many stages of denial, like someone ghosting you or faking their death. Yet you never knew when he would come back. At least you knew it wasn’t just you who had lost the people they loved.

You even went to go see the wall of the vanished, hearing it apparently had everyone’s name on there that had completely vanished from the earth. God maybe this was the rapture, No, Bucky wouldn’t have disappeared. As you thought and constantly started checking the news of any updates like a stupid paranoid freak there was nothing. It’s not like the news could say anything I’m sure they had no idea where people had went. Then you had people who were incels who tried to make up theories, saying the Daily Bugle was always telling the truth, yet trying to watch it made your head spin worse then listening to an Australian accent.

In the end there wasn’t much people could do. Either wait till there was a solution, or accept this was a way of dying weirdly peacefully without torture or pain to them.

You tried to make the most of it. Getting therapy since you probably needed it, checking in on family and friends who had also lost many of the people who they truly cared about. While you sat there waiting at your door like a pet waiting for their owner to get home; weirdly kinky.

Five fucking years, five years of this crap. Useless bullshit of saying that their loved one’s have died in the rapture. You were in denial. Constantly remind you that Bucky was out there somewhere, looking for a way out. He wasn’t one to back down, maybe? No. But it had been five years what was the point of caring anymore at trying to find a way out. Maybe they were really dead, dying on the spot and everyone was just finding their way of mourning by using different predictions or theories since not much had ever been explained on it.

Acceptance was stupid, who needed it, you didn’t. You knew he was gone what was the point of waiting here in your Apartment to hear just that little click sound of the door being unlocked by the keys you gave him. You just needed him because during the night you were scared of the dark, ya that was definitely all of it. Not that he made you feel some sort of softness that made you wanna scream into you pillow; or that whenever you’d see each other some tight warm pit in your chest had you doing flips all day long. But mostly or some dark needy part of you couldn’t forget the amount of intimacy there was. You too were basically animals around each other. Every time you saw each other it was like something primal and hazy took over your mind, body, and soul. It was like you too were hungover each other, always getting lead to bed by him, his hands in your hair either in a nice soft way, or in a way that left you breathless, needy, begging for him to keep pulling until tears spilled down your face. No, this was stupid. Stupid stupid stupid lovey dovey shit he got you hooked onto like a fish before he said goodbye and went poof. And god how you wished it didn’t screw you up so much you had to start using a rose toy.

You sat on your bed, right in the middle instead of your designated side when that asshole was here. You watched some crappy reality tv show that made you think this is where people went when they were full on broke. This is really what you were doing on your Friday night; wrapped up in a big comforter snacking on anything. You got up since you were running out of snacks and you forced to pull yourself together as you walked to your fully lit kitchen, looking around at the empty space like a maniac who watched to much true crime.

Meanwhile your phone was buzzing like crazy.

As you got back you were met with newsletters you signed up for sending you a random breaking news emergency.

‘BREAKING NEWS! It seems to have been that all the sudden everyone from the snap of five years ago have been reappearing right where they were when they had left. This is not a drill people have been reappearing after all this time. Be aware of loved ones popping out of nowhere’

Oh what the fuck. No, that’s a lie this can’t all the sudden just be happening like the world just chose to bring everyone back. Yet again, it wasn’t April, as you quickly checked the date on your phone and sighed. Nope this was real this was pure fucking real shit happening right now. You looked around your room so many thoughts filling your head

What would happen if Bucky found you in this state?

Would he have changed?

Would he still like you?

Was he a zombie?

Okay now that’s just stupid. Right?

Next thing you know it you basically jumped up from your bed and started running around the room. You grabbed trash bags and threw any type of trash you found in your room, candy wrappers, soda cans, twisted tea cans, chip bags. Damn if crumbs were everywhere, you really let go when you lose someone don’t you?

It was like one of those stupid montages from a coming of age movie, music blared in your apartment as the loud sound of your vacuum seeped into the mix. The constant groans of how everywhere you looked there was a new messy problem you had to take care of by yourself. This news really just had to show up now didn’t it? Ya, to ruin your life and make you question everything. Hours and hours of cleaning while looking out at your window, then your door. Just need to hear a click, a sound of the door and you would be running to the door.

Yet after checking around the house to see if there were any more messy spots….nothing. There was nothing. Complete silence that scared you, making you run back in bed and turn on the tv again to the shitty tv. Knew it was a lie. Yet you saw so many post of people reconnecting with happiness in their eyes. That should be you. Where was Bucky? You felt like a puppy in a pound watching all the other pups get picked while you just sat there waiting for that right person to pick you up and praise you for being you. God maybe you were a pet.

It had been a week. All your friends had been reunited with their lovers and friends. When was it going to be your turn to see your man fly through that door and pick you up happy to see you for the first time in what? Five years? Or better he’d lift you up and take you to the bed, showing you how much he missed you. God you were fucked for that being one of your first thoughts. Your body tensed and ached just thinking about the stuff that would go on once he got here.

The day went on, work being…well work what were you expecting. It was boring with employees asking you the same question over and over, you trying to not lose your sanity and tell them to go ask someone else.

Yet once night set upon the city you look out the window, arms crossed as you stood there frozen in your pajamas and a little cardigan hiding any upper part of your body. Your body felt cold as your arms tightened around you like they were trying to replace Bucky’s arms when he held you, staring o ur this same big ass window; just enjoying the bliss.

‘Click.’

You were too in your head to pay attention to anything at the second. Like how your door was opening to a taller figure coming through the door looking around like the place was new.

“Baby?”

Your throat wasn’t letting you breathe, caught, like startled or surprised. You hadn’t even turned your body, not having too. That voice, deep pitched voice that filled the silence of the room. Before you could fully comprehend anything at the moment all you heard was the door carefully shut closed and the sound of step after hard step, getting closer. The air behind you made you shiver in your spine, gently stretching for a moment before the presence of familiarity was behind you lurking in for some sick joke.

“Sorry I’m late.” He whispered his voice just behind your ear, feeling the hot breath against the side of your neck. Until you finally spoke.

“Where were you?” Was that really all of what you had to stumble out of your mouth.

Bucky urged to not let his hands wander over your waist, to not pull you in so quickly. He fisted his hands up before finally speaking after one big hard sigh.

“I honestly got no fucking idea.” He murmured as he took in your full body. All he could think of was how god damn happy he was to see this body again, to have in right in front of him, and in the palm of his hands “but I missed you. Just had to get some stuff figured out before I came to see you.” He proceeded before looking down at his machine weapon hand, whatever you wanted to call his replacement to flesh.

Finally after a good couple of minutes you turned and looked at him, really looked. Seeing the way his muscular body hadn’t seemed to change, just seemed to be more worn out. Had he aged during the blip? There were so many questions going through your head yet you didn’t feel like reminding him of everything he had probably been through the night of the snap.

Before you could think of asking a soft breath left your mouth and your hand lifted up to his robotic arm. The metal cold and tired against your palm.

It was like Bucky’s arm was still there when he felt your touch. Even if that was lie and the machine was still well a machine, your touch, sense made him let out a shivery exhale. He swallowed any curses or words that would spill out and just looked up at your eyes interlocking with his.

“I know you probably have so many questions but I’d rather just enjoy this, enjoy everything curve and trace of your body I’ve been craving for so long.” He couldn’t hold his word anymore, he needed you to understand just how much of the your touch he had needed these past five years

Your breathing hitched and you bit the inside of your mouth, gnawing at the chewy flesh. It was hard not to give in, not to completely fall to your knees and become a stupid mess.

As his face got closer you could feel your breath mixing with his. They way yall looked at each other made sparks flare in each others eyes

“Have you moved on? Were you seeing anyone while I blipped with most of the world” he asked like he knew the answer, but wanted to hear come from your mouth, Hear you say those words that meant you belonged to him. Even when he was gone.

You shook your head slowly looking down and taking a moment before speaking up. “No.”

He nodded smiling a bit, taking a moment for those words to slip into his head. God it felt good to him knowing you were his.

“Join me in the shower.”

“Right now?”

“Mhm.”

And just like that he walked off expecting you to follow, in which you did. Why wouldn’t you? Your body felt warm, fuzzy, like every part of you wanted to remember that touch of his.

As yall got to the bathroom he slowly pulled off his shirt and so did you, pulling off your cardigan revealing the lacy tank top covering the bit of skin it could. As you stripped your eyes were locked on his body like a magnet or a fresh piece of meat. You looked at his arm and curiously tilted your head

“What about your arm….thingy machine.”

“Waterproof” He said firmly before continuing to strip until he was left in nothing. Both of your bare bodies. You watched as he walked into the shower and turned it on, the glass panels quick to fog up. You stood out for a moment watching as you could see him under the shower head getting his hair and body wet. Biting your lip you walked to the light switches and turned on the main light, dimming the room of only the light under the shower.

And once that was done you basically padded over to the shower, walking in before gently closing the door behind you. All you saw was the toned hard body of Bucky’s. Flexing not by command as he sighed into the relaxing heat. Next thing you know you were grabbing the body wash and gently pouring it into the palm of your hand.

“Lemme help.” You murmured as you walked behind him, your small form comparing to his tall rough one. Your hands made its way to his back and gently massaged the soap suds in. Getting every nook and cranny. All you could hear were the faint groans he let in pleasure of the heat. Bucky really didn’t wanna hurry things, but five years of pent up arousal was enough to make any man wild for his woman. With that he slowly turned looking down at your form. Taking in every beautifully curved body part of yours.

“I don’t wanna rush things.” He whispered before looking into your eyes before speaking his truth “but if you just say anything approving I will let go.”

That was enough to make your breath hitch and every part of yours body to tense up with the same arousal you had been feeling all these years. You stayed quiet for a moment trying to fully get your thoughts together before finally giving into everything you had been waiting for.

“Then let go.” You whispered and in seconds you felt those rough large hands wrapping around your waist, pulling you in like a lifeline. Like you were everything he ever wanted. As he looked down at you and took in all of you with his eyes he smiled and pushed his lips onto yours, needing to taste the sweetness of your lips. He didn’t stop, letting it start off soft and hazy, letting the passion drip into your mouth before basically devouring you. Bucky bit and nipped at your lip as you gasped into his sudden desire to make sure you knew who you belonged to, who you had been waiting for all this time.

“Is this what you’ve been needing” He asked in between him feeding his starvation

“Y-yes god yes.” You moaned as your breath hitched and lead to a little yelp but you felt his hands wander, his hot hands trailing up your back then down to your plump ass. He gave it a nice squeeze as he groaned. licking your licks, asking for permission to be let in you let out another quiet moan before you felt him devour it with his tongue diving into your mouth, exploring all he wanted.

His hands were a whole on their own mission though. One resting on your waist as he backed you under the stream of water, hot and nice, just like how y’all seemed to be at the moment. Once he had you all backed up the water flowed between both of y’all. The other hand of his went down your chest, and you knew exactly where the target was going for. Just as you thought of that the gentle circling of your clit started, and you gasped moaned into his mouth while he rubbed harder, quicker, and in all the right places.

One of your hands ran down the foggy glass panel while the other was on the toned muscles of his chest letting you feel him down.

“I missed this so much” you murmured as he groaned and nodded

“I could tell.” He said firmly with pride as he kept going before finding your pussy and gently sliding a finger into there. Your head laid against the tile of the shower wall and you bit your lip before looking up at him with those pleading eyes.

“Another.” You breathed as he nodded and dipped in another before finally curling his fingers, determined to find that sweet spot as he started pumping in and out. The stimulation of the pump and curling left me breathless. With his tongue deep in my mouth I whimpered as I felt those urges to let go, the need to release all over his hands.

“I think-I think I’m gonna”

“Come on baby let it get all over my fingers” He urged as he pumped harder until finally he noticed he hit that sweet spot and you arched your back against the tile, gasping as you felt yourself release and shiver against his touch.

For a moment you just leaned against the wall. Taking that all in for just a moment before looking up at him and his cheeky fucking smile. Bucky looked at you for a moment before pulling out the digits of his fingers out and bringing them to his mouth and licking the clean, not breaking eye contact once.

“You fucking taste delicious.” He murmured against his fingers. You couldn’t help but just watch and get all red in the face like an idiot before he finally ran a hand through his hair under the stream of water.

“Come on baby now I need my fill too.” He said firmly as you forgot about his erection. Your eyes lowered down and saw the thick veiny cock of his sprung against his stomach, already leaking with pre-cum. You couldn’t stop staring seeming like a perv but being in a trance thinking about all the thing he could do to you right here right now made you just wanna cum on the spot right here right now again.

Next thing you know his hands were on the back of your thighs gripping them as he lift them up into the air and against the wall. Making sure you were pinned up all nice with your legs now wrapped around him. Your arms snaked around his neck holding on, awaiting for him

“Think you can still take it?”

“I-I think so”

Bucky groaned and gently pumped his cock a couple of times before rubbing his pre-cum against your slit, making your head fall back from the teasing. You whimpered and squirmed as he chuckled before finally sliding his cock in, inch by aching inch. You could feel the way he stretched you out yet made sure in every way you were okay. He peppered your neck in light kiss and nips, leaving tiny hickeys everywhere over the neck.

“Tell me when to move” he whispered before you nodded and squirmed a bit

“Move please fuck move” you whimpered as a sudden gasp left you breathless while he started pumping into you, pulling out leaving just the tip in, just to pump into you with new found eager. Showing you how much he missed you, how much he was waiting till he’d get back to you.

Bucky cursed and groaned as he drove deep into your pussy looking down to see your pussy accommodating his size,stretching it out till it had a tint of red around the ring of your hole. You could tell he was getting closer, with the way he pumped into you harder and harder. And while he was close you were too, feeling that hot pit in your stomach needing to be emptied. You put your hand on the panel leaving a mark on the foggy glass.

“F-fuck! I need to cum, I need you to cum inside of me” you breathed out as you pulled his lips to yours for one last kiss before all you felt was the grip of his hold on you become harsher until you gasped and felt as the ropes of cum bursted inside of you, while you came on his cock, mixing your juices together in a mess. As he kept pumping into you, you fell limp in his arms, pressing your forehead against his as his hand went into your hair. His pace slowly down.

“I have a lot to explain.”

“Ya you fucking do.”

[evilminji]

You think the Zone has its version of Comic Con?

Like? Think about it. You have literally all of time to work on it, your Magnum Opus, your life's work. That DREAM comic. All the supplies you could ever wish for. Endless paper. Endless ink. You can practice and practice for CENTURIES until it's JUST right.

Wouldn't you want to share it?

There are definitely Ghosts who have Obsessions that make them collect.

And two people meeting would lead to a group. Lead to a bigger group. Lead to a large group. A gathering. A crowd even. Eventually you need a Lair to meet IN. It becomes An Event.

People hear about it.

Want to bring other art mediums. Food stalls. Report on it. It grows. Shoot offs start happening. Niche meet ups.

But like?

Unlike comic con? It's all FREE. Sure, you might have fork over the ecto to make your copy. And yeah, weaker ghosts can only do that so many times. Will have to prioritize. But? They can come back after leaving for a nap. Ask a buddy to come with. There ARE work arounds.

Just? Imagine the unbelievable HIPE? Danny would feel? But be unable to TELL anyone about? Zone Con happens several times a year! Cause so many people wanna come. The Zone being infinite, after all.

Problem 1? They're using THEIR standard of a "year". Which is actual 5 earth years. So it's only happens every year and a half for him. And Problem 2? He can't even TALK about how excited he is about Z Con with anyone (outside his friends and family) because they haven't heard of it and might Ask Questions.

It's ALSO held in a part of the Zone that's like? Three days of flying away from the portal. And no amount of begging is gonna get any of his loved ones to camp in the Speeder for around six-ish days just to go to a Con.

So you can imagine his DELIGHT. His utter JOY and *Target Spotted* "!!!" Noise, when? In the crowd? He spots A HUMAN! Hi fellow human!!! Omg, wanna be Con Besties? *doesn't even wait for an answer*

So now? This sad, blonde, deeply lost and kinda alarmed, trench coat dude? Is Danny's new Z Con Going Bestie! You got a map yet, bestie? No? That's cool, he has one. By the way, he has human food in the Speeder if you nee-

YES!

Cause, see, here's the THING. John? Lost to the Realms Infinte. Or Infinte Realms. Translation was iffy... and on fire... like the rest of the building. It was him or the kids those psychos had kidnapped, for what fucked "ritual" the voices in their heads, that THEY thought were demons but frankly he's pretty sure was just feedback from-

Look, doesn't matter, he had to choose. He always knew someday he'd have too. That even twisting Luck and talking fast wouldn't quite be enough. And he had to decide, in that moment, which outcome mattered more to him. They get out safe, or he does.

Wasn't much of a question, was it?

So, there he is. Staring down oblivion and all those debts unpaid. 'Bout to see who's gonna come for him this time, and take what left of wretched soul. When? He bleeds on the FUCKIN two-bit crap circle they squiggled in God only knows what. Remembers that "oh YEAH, set dressings!" Sometimes when you focus too hard on insuring a Good Outcome?

You weird weird as shit byproducts happening on the side to balance it all out.

Or BAD ones.

He wakes up someone fucking green and crowded. For the life of him can't tell you which one it is. And THAT was of course, bout two days ago.

Biggest and most immediate problem? He... does NOT recognize what flavor of magical fuckery this is. Doesn't seem Fae. And doesn't smell like Hell. There are... there are honest to God BOOTH BABES hanging around. Hunks too. The view is LOVELY.

And nerdy.

Very, very nerdy.

But he isn't THAT out of touch. So he should recognize SOMETHING. Or at least the languages. But nope! It's like aliens and magic had a nerd baby and dipped it in GREEN. And the worst thing? Is there is food everywhere, but it all glows and John's not stupid enough to eat it.

Then? Sweet merciful fuck. Salvation! Some teeny bopper Barely No Longer Teen fresh faced INFANT of a Hero kid. With a SHIP. Who has FOOD and a clear idea of where they are. Hello~ John's new BEST FRIEND. Yes. Absolutely. Con Buddies, whatever.

Just feed me, kid.

Only? Once he inhales like 5 "Fenton rations"? He only gets half way through introducing himself before getting interrupted. Kid hears "magic" and "occult Detective" and just? Goes "oh! So you wanna check out the magic Ally with me? Sam wanted me to pick up some witchy stuff!"

..............how magic?

(In Which? Constantine becomes Danny's interdimensional Con buddy)

@the-witchhunter @hypewinter @hdgnj @mutable-manifestation @lolottes @nerdpoe

[rebelfell]

Sooo this started out being all cute and fluffy but veered over the edge into the flangst canyon…my bad. 💌 1.8k

Thinking about bestfriend!eddie who shows up your boyfriend on Valentine’s Day.

Unintentionally, of course.

It was never something he planned to do. 

He just happened to be in CVS the night before, blazed out of his mind and wandering aimlessly while the guys argued about what snacks to get. And when he made the mistake of turning onto the designated holiday aisle, he was met with a barrage of pink and red glitter and sparkles and hearts exploding off every shelf—an absolute affrontal assault to his cynical sensibilities. 

But then he picks up this one card that catches his eye. It’s got a watercolor painting of this cute little porcupine who’s holding a heart-shaped box of chocolates, and there’s a speech bubble at the top that says “I Porcu-PINE for you!”

Eddie absolutely loses it.

He stands there making these stuttering giggling sounds and they’re coming out way louder than he intended, and the pimply and dead-eyed clerk behind the register leans over to give the laziest evil eye Eddie has ever seen. He does his best to stifle himself, but more little snickers still eke out as he picks up the envelope that goes with the card, and starts scanning the shelves for the Valentine’s variation of your favorite candy.

(Because it would be weird just to do the card, right? If he throws in some other stuff too, maybe it’ll be less conspicuous. Yeah? That makes sense, doesn’t it? Yeah, totally it does.)

Before he knows it, he’s collected a whole armload of crap. Two bags of the candies (they’re 2 for $5, that just makes good business sense), a little plushie with giant sparkly eyes (its stare is hypnotizing in an odd way, it kind of reminds him of you), and a small (tiny, honestly) bouquet of daisies wrapped in crinkly cellophane (he knows you like those way more than you like roses.)

He puts it all down on the counter and gets another withering glare from the cashier after he’s rung it all up. Eddie wonders if this guy is judging him; thinks he’s some lazy, loser boyfriend buying a bunch of junk gifts at the last possible minute. But Eddie doesn’t have the mental capability at the moment to explain that he’s not even buying these for a girlfriend—they’re all for his best friend, who he sometimes, occasionally, has some slightly inappropriate thoughts about, which yeah, is kind of inconvenient in a lot of ways, but it’s cool, he’s fine with that—

There’s another huff from the cashier as he repeats the total due, and Eddie realizes this guy doesn’t give a shit that Eddie might be a crappy boyfriend, he’s much more annoyed by the fact that he has yet to take out his wallet. And as he scrambles to do so, the rest of Corroded Coffin comes up to the front, still loudly arguing about the snacks they’re carrying in their hands.

They all give Eddie a funny look when they see what he’s getting, Grant being the first to bluntly ask who it’s for. They fall silent, exchanging wary glances when Eddie mumbles your name under his breath as he hands over a creased and wrinkled bill to pay at long last.

“That’s super weird, man, don’t do that,” Jeff argues immediately. “Just give it to Gareth, and he can give it to Annie instead. Problem solved.”

“Excuse me,” Gareth snaps, “but I’ve gotten my girl her gifts and they’re a hell of a lot better than this crap. Er, uhh…no offense.”

Their drummer winces, and his eyes dart guiltily between Eddie and his purchases.

“No—” Eddie’s face scrunches and he shakes his head defiantly. “They’re not, like, serious gifts. It doesn’t mean anything. And she’s dating that rich asshole, I’m sure he’s gonna bury her in expensive shit. This is barely gonna land on her radar,” he insists, now clutching his bag in his fist.

“So then why bother?” Jeff asks, widening his annoyingly perceptive eyes under arched brows. 

But Eddie doesn’t respond. He just stomps out to the parking lot and waits by the car. All the while thinking about all the things he can never quite manage to say out loud when it comes to you.

The next day, Eddie’s rethinking everything.

Sober now and staring down at the offerings piled up in the van’s passenger seat, he can’t help but think this might be the stupidest thing he’s ever done in his life. And that’s saying something.

He talks himself in and out of going through with it about twenty times just in the ten minute drive it takes him to get to your apartment. And even as he climbs the stairs and raises his hand to knock, he has yet to decide if this is a good idea or not.

He came over semi-early, figuring you’d likely be busy later getting ready for some fancy dinner at some restaurant where Eddie probably couldn’t afford to order so much as a glass of water. 

But when you open the door, he can’t help but frown at your appearance. You don’t look like you are getting ready to go out, if anything you look like you’ve retired for the evening before 5pm.

Your face is bare except for a couple spots of zit cream, and you have on an old headband pushing your hair back out of your face. You’re swathed in the kind of baggy, oversized clothes he only sees you in when you’re ass deep in a cold or some other similarly debilitating illness. 

You don’t look sick, though. Just…sad?

How can you be sad on Love’s birthday?

“Hey, uhhh,” he says, forcing a tight smile. His palms start to sweat around the plastic handles he’s clutching behind his back. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” you reply.

There’s no sharpness to it, yet it still comes out kind of flat. Like you’re trying not to sound upset. But Eddie doesn’t push it as he follows you to the kitchen, sliding into his usual seat at your bar.

“What’s that?” you ask, eyes falling to the bag he plopped down on top of the counter.

“It’s stupid,” Eddie starts, “just some dumb little things I picked up.” For you, he adds in his head.

A small smile finally breaks the thin line your lips had been set in since he arrived and Eddie’s back broke out in a cold sweat under his leather jacket as he bashfully pushed the bag over to you.

He then watches, choking on his own heart, as you start pulling things out one by one.

You grin at the daisies, bringing them to your nose to sniff even though they probably smell more like weed than flowers after spending all night in the trailer. You squeal over the plushie, holding it up next to your face and squishing it. You hum excitedly at the first bag of candies, and laugh when you pull out a second one.

Then you get to the card.

Your eyes roll, but you can’t help smiling when you see Eddie’s nickname for you scrawled on the front of the envelope in his chicken scratch. And you’re still smiling as you slide your finger under the flap to tear through the bright red casing.

Then you read it, and your smile falls.

Your whole face does, in fact. It starts with a minute tremble of your chin that escalates into your brow pinching and your mouth crumpling into a frown. And you seem to clench every single muscle in your face to stop yourself from crying, but you just can’t keep it from happening.

“Hey, hey, wait, no, no, nooooo—”

Eddie doesn’t think, he doesn’t take a second to consider doing anything differently, he just jumps to his feet and comes around the counter to your side. He puts his arms around you automatically, letting you bury your face in his chest as you cling to him and try to settle yourself.

“I’m so-sorry, I’m s-so sorry, I’m sorry,” you babble, blubbering through the words.

“No, I’m sorry, sweetheart. I swear, I just thought it was cute, I didn’t mean to—”

“It is cute,” you wail as tears stream down your cheeks, “It’s fucking adorable!”

“Okay, then what’s the problem?” Eddie chuckles, pulling back slightly and ducking his head to look you in the eye, trying to get you to smile back.

You sniffle a few more times before you manage to collect yourself and swipe your fingers under your eyes to smear the wetness of your tears across your cheeks. Eddie’s fists clench at his sides to stop them from reaching up to do it again for you when you miss a stray one.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve been in such a weird funk all day since Matt, um…”

Your voice wobbled again and Eddie’s expression turned stony, scolding himself inwardly for letting even a tiny bit of excitement rise in his chest at the thought that you might have broken up.

“Is everything okay?” he asked. “I mean, did you guys…are you…”

“No, nothing like that,” you inhaled shakily. “He just…he doesn’t really do Valentine’s Day. And it feels so stupid to get upset over it. Like it’s just a dumb holiday, and I don’t need, like, presents or a dinner or flowers or anything like that. I just…”

Your arms crossed, as if you were trying to hug yourself. Eddie wished he could do it for you.

“I don’t know, I thought we’d do something,” you finally add quietly.

“He’s not even coming over?” Eddie scoffs. Suddenly the outfit made more sense. “At all?”

Your eyes closed in a pained wince. “Don’t make me feel worse, please,” you beg him somberly.

“No, I—” Eddie sucks in a sharp breath. “I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to upset you. Honest.”

His head dropped guiltily, eyes glued to his sneakers that stood out against the tile in your kitchen. He glanced one last time at all the stupid stuff he bought now strewn across your counter.

“You don’t have to apologize,” you told him firmly. “That was really sweet, Eddie. Seriously, like the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

Your hand reaches out for the plushie again and you cradle it in your palm as you swoop in to drop a light peck on his cheek. The warmth of it makes Eddie’s whole face hot and he feels his neck tense from how much he wishes he could turn his head to the side and allow for his lips to meet yours. 

But of course he doesn’t. He wouldn’t dare.

He sure would think about it, though.

Eddie was still staring at his feet, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off you for long. He glanced back up to see you pushing through all of the extraneous things you were feeling to give him a smile, small as it was. He nodded and opened his arms, welcoming you back into them.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” he whispered into your hair. Too quiet even for you to hear him.

I thought for a while about whether or not this is them, but I think this might be an entirely different set of idiots.

also is it just me or is v-day particularly oppressive this year?

[illubean]

saiki k with a reader who’s like super sleepy and makes everyone around them sleepy too? may or may not be a physic up to you tho!

Saiki W/ a Sleepy!Psychic!Reader

Characters: Kusuo Saiki Type: mix of headcanons and sort of a oneshot??, Gn!Reader

saiki kusuOOOOOOO

Warnings: none

when you first transferred into his class he was confused as to why he couldn't read your thoughts

congrats, you're now categorized with bugs and nendo..

and he was even more confused that the minute you walked in, everyone started yawning and his eye's felt heavy

"We have a new transfer student today, class. Why don't you come on in and introduce yourself?" Saiki watched as you lazily trudged into the room, posture hunched with droopy, slow blinking eyelids. You let out a yawn and stretched as if you just got out of bed before stating your name.

Saiki's eyes narrowed at you while you walked towards your new seat, everyone else yawning as you passed them by. Lucky for him, you happened to sit directly behind him, and suddenly he finds it hard to keep his head upright.

after this he...stalks you pretty much

not because he's some weirdo pervert but because he needs to get to the bottom of what's going on! (doesn't make it any less creepy...)

he watches you from a safe distance, but you seem to be like every other average person at this school

For the past week you felt like you've been watched wherever you go. Around the halls at school, on your way to the vending machine, even during your walk home. No matter which way you looked, there was never anything out of the ordinary. You'd always heard of those weird stories about crazy stalkers, but you never thought it could happen to you of all people.

You were just an average student; doing nothing particularly interesting outside of academics or school clubs. Or so everyone thought. Save for Saiki. He knew there was something off about you, but he has yet to see you do anything odd. He was getting frustrated waiting for you to make any sort of move that would reveal you as a potential threat.

one day Saiki manages to corner you and lays the interrogation on thick

you're like super confused and that's when he realized he fucked up and revealed his powers to you

he makes you swear to not tell anyone and may or may not force you to meet his brother to get to the bottom of your weird sleepy powers

whether you just have a useless sleepy power or others you also don't know about is up to you

"Alright, spit it out. Who are you really and what are your intentions at this school?"

Your back was abruptly slammed into the wall as you rounded the corner, and you never expected to come face to face with your pink haired classmate this way. You've never heard him speak much, making him mysterious and even more intimidating in a situation like this.

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb with me, everywhere you go you make everyone around you tired. Besides, I can't read your thoughts and I never know your next move. Who sent you? Dark reunion!?"

You stared at him blankly for a moment, blinking slowly as you process everything he just said to you.

"...dark reunion? Forget that, you can read people's minds!?"

Oh. Crap.

[bejeweledinterludes]

❝ aw, crap. ❞

❝ i’m a painted whore. ❞

「 pairing 」 : dean winchester x fem makeup ! wearing reader

「 summary 」 : after a near-death experience on a hunt, you stop wearing your usual everyday makeup, not thinking too much of it. but when you meet up with the winchester brothers for a hunt, dean notices. a lot.

「 word count 」 : 1.7 k

「 warnings 」 : swearing, suggestive content, dean n reader being idiots, sam being a godsend (as always)

tags (based off of this post): @blossomingorchids @illicithallways @k-pevensie28 @sunsbaby @theeyesofasoldier @alediao @cowboysandcigarettes

also PLEASE tell me you guys get the title ?! it’s from the spn episode “the french mistake” (s6 , ep15) when dean says he’s a ‘painted whore’ bc he had makeup on hehe anyways enjoy pookies !!!

𖤐 ────────────────────────

as you got older, you started to like makeup less and less. and it wasn’t because you were even bad at it— but over time, it just… got in the way.

especially on hunts. whether you completely sweated off your eyeshadow or left smears of foundation all over the collars of your fed threads, it was becoming more and more of a chore than one of your favorite things to do.

and the worst part was, you almost died from it. 

it had been a simple solo rugaru hunt that you were on about a few months ago in the summertime down in the middle of arizona. so it was hot. and you sweated. a lot. so much so that your mascara started to run and burn in your eyes, making you temporarily impaired— which resulted in almost being that rugaru’s dinner.

after that, you swore off makeup completely. a little concealer and the waterproof mascara that your friend swore was “sob-proof” was the farthest you’d go on a good day— saving a full face only for special occasions, being undercover, or not when you were deep in the thick of it somewhere in the american wilderness.

. • . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . 𖤐

you got a call from the winchester brothers in minnesota a few days ago. you’d been finishing up a wendigo hunt in the next state over when sam called you, asking if you had a minute.

and you always had a minute for the winchesters.

you were already heading their way by the time you hung up the phone, meeting up with them outside the sheriff’s office in your fed threads to get info on the people who had gone missing in the past week under strange circumstances.

sam clapped you on the back in greeting— dean too, at usual. but they both were internally recognizing the fact that you looked a little… different.

but not a bad different.

no, it was almost like you looked… younger or something. which was weird, because you didn’t trust witches or fairies just as much as they did— so a youth potion or some sort of spell was out of the question. 

sam, being sam, immediately recognized without any help that it was because you were wearing less makeup. even now, years and years later, he still remembered the first time he saw jess without makeup on (like he’d ever forget), and remembered how bashful she’d been because of it. with that, sam knew makeup was almost like protection for the wearer.

so he made a point of not saying anything about it to you— because despite popular belief, he wasn’t just book smart.

and when the two brothers trailed behind you inside the sheriff’s station, he quickly shut down dean’s questioning look and mutter of “why the hell does she look so sexy different?” with a swift “don’t you say anything.” to his older brother— to which, dean pouted, left to put the pieces together himself. 

and dean couldn't figure out why he was so infatuated with you all of a sudden.

well, actually, dean did know, but he didn’t want to actually admit it.

because that would mean changing things.

and as much as he wanted to, he wouldn’t allow things to change between you and him. no, he couldn’t. you were one of the only good things— good friends in his life, and he’d be damned if he was going to ruin yet another thing because he couldn’t keep his goddamn mouth shut over some stupid crush.

but something about you was different, he knew it. and over the days on the hunt with the guys, when you all were doing research or talking to people to get info, dean would find himself just… staring at you.

hard.

because now, dean could see clear as day that tinge of pink seep into your cheeks whenever you laughed too hard at something, or got embarrassed— and not to mention the way your eyes still seemed to just light up, even without the usual help of your glittery highlighter that always doubled as your eyeshadow.

he was losing his mind.

you honestly didn’t even really notice it at first. but then again, you didn’t notice a lot of things when it came to dean and you.

he thought he was being obvious with this annoying ass crush for years now— so did sam.

well, he thought, maybe you did notice; you just chose not to mention it for fear of making things awkward.

but in reality, it was because you also had a raging crush on dean. and because of the worry that you were really just imagining all the times you caught dean looking at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention.

the whole ‘not-noticing’ thing sounds a whole lot better out loud, though.

. • . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . 𖤐

which brings you up to right now— sitting with the brothers in some mom-and-pop burger joint after spending the morning talking to the families of the people who had gone missing. it seemed weird to be eating lunch while people were disappearing left and right.

but something pulls you out of your thoughts. you could literally feel eyes on you. you glanced around the hazy sun-lit diner, trying to find the culprit— until you snapped your head to dean sitting directly next to you in the booth, who quickly averted his green eyes back to his plate.

but not quick enough. because you actually, truly, caught him this time.

despite the win, you’re internally freaking out (because jesus, did you really look that bad without makeup on?), but you follow dean’s suit, looking back down at your own food and popping a fry in your mouth smoothly. you were always good at that— keeping a poker face even when you were less than the epitome of calm.

“you wanna take a picture or somethin’?” you inquire cooly between chews— and silently wishing you’d at least put on concealer today.

dean’s eyes immediately flick back up to your side profile— and sam looks up from his salad across from you and dean.

“w—” dean half-smirked nervously with a short chuckle, looking between you, his plate, and sam like he hadn’t just been ogling you mere seconds ago before looking back down at his plate again. “no. it’s just that—”

dean’s words were cut off by a swift kick to his leg under the table from none other than his own brother— shooting a warning glance at dean before he could finish.

son of a bitch— dean shot a glare at his brother right back, glancing back over at you and muttering “‘s nothin’.” and shaking his head before going back to his food.

“y—” your eyes flicked between the two brothers. that stupid silent communication thing they always did wasn’t lost on you for a second. “w— it’s obviously something. jus’ tell me what’s goin’ on, guys.”

dean glanced back up at you— a huge mistake, because he was taken aback by your more concern rather than anger towards him for staring. classic you. never, ever angry at him, even when he knew he damn well deserved it. that was only one of the many reasons why he lov— liked you.

dean then glanced from you to his little brother, possibly for some sort of saving grace, but he was only met with a warning expression from sam, mixed with something else— that familiar look they gave each other all the time that screamed “you opened your mouth, jerk, so you fix it. and if you fuck this up, i’ll kill you dead”.

great.

dean made the next terrible decision of looking back to you— and god, you were looking right back at him. with those gorgeous eyes, only mixed with mild curiosity and concern. your gaze held no malice, eyebrows slightly scrunched together with that look you always had when you were trying to figure him out. 

oh, you could figure him out, alright. with you under or on top of him. naw, he didn’t care, just as long as it was both of you moving and skin-to-skin, with those pretty lips gasping for air and moaning his name over, and over, and over—

“somethin’s different.” dean blurts out, internally kicking himself just as sam had done earlier to shake the filthy images that had seeped into his mind.

“different,” a sharp pang of nervousnes but mostly that same curiosity spreads across your senses— you tilt your head a little at dean, brows furrowing just a little more, repeating the word flatly. “different how?”

“i—” the words get caught in dean’s throat, and he hesitates. “well, y’know, it’s, uh… i mean, you look—”

“better,” sam finally interjects with the truth, sick of dean tripping over simple goddamn words. he leans into the table a little to get your attention before slumping back in the booth, rolling his eyes slightly at his brother before looking at you with that soft look he always seemed to have, nodding. “you look better. that’s all. did ya do something different?”

oh. oh.

you look back to dean next to you— the way he was pointedly not looking at you at all anymore was enough to confirm what sam was saying. 

“w—” it was your turn to be momentarily speechless, taken aback by sam’s words— and pink appeared on your cheeks, full-throttle before you leaned back against the vinyl, gathering yourself.

you then sheepishly explained what had happened with the rugaru, which ultimately led to your decision to abandon putting on a full beat for ganking monsters. you continued on, saying it was less stuff to pack, and now you could sleep in as much as sam and dean did— besides, it’s not like it even mattered to them anyway.

right?

sam nodded and agreed understandingly— as he always does.

dean just hummed in response, completely and grossly interested in his food again— as he always was.

you nodded too, giving the brothers one last look before delving into a theory you had on the case to sam. and you really thought that was it. 

or so you believed. 

but the truth was, dean could not be any happier with your decision to ditch makeup for the time being. 

because dean was starting to realize that he really liked you without it on.

───────────────────────── 𖤐