Seen This Video Of What Looks Like Bugs Bunny N Lola Bunny Kissing N Ugh. Izu.

i'm here for the one sided BKDK angst ITS A VIDEO

practicing stuff and things and stuff to make little silly things and stuff

miguel must have some severe neck pain due him being 6’9 and needing to bend to speak with everyone. so i suggest reader to lay him on his back and ride the shit out of his face till his neck is properly straightened and he is drunk dumb on your juices 😇

oMG anon you're a genius !?!? this is SO creative i'm kissing ur brain

summary : you ride miguel's face until it fixes his neck

content warning : SMUT (18+) minors dni, oral sex (reader receiving), miguel eats you out, overstimulation, no use of Y/N, fem!reader, miguel is pussy drunk word count : 888

Miguel's days always seemed to end with a particularly unpleasant muscle ache forming in the back of his neck. The cause and sole reason for this? His height.

It's quite simple, Miguel was huge, 6'9 to be exact, and few people in the Spider Society were anywhere near his height nor width.

He lowered his neck to look at everyone, feeling like a tower trying to talk to passers-by in the street. He couldn't shake off this feeling, but he was always standing up, rare were the moments of his day where he was sitting anywhere.

One minute he was talking to a smaller spider, making him bend his head to maintain conversation politely enough. In another, he had to whisper to discuss confidential matters in public, making him bend the rest of his body as well. And now he'd just come back from a meeting where he'd spent most of his time talking to members smaller than himself.

And he'd already tried so many things to fix his situation: putting essential oil on the back of his neck and massaging it until he relaxed, putting a hot water bottle under his pillow when he was lying on his bed, or even putting on a neck brace, even though he felt profoundly ridiculous when he was wearing it and kept it on just for when he was in his quarters. He'd even asked you to massage the back of his neck at times, but you weren't always available to help him with that.

It was then, as he was returning once again to his quarters where you were staying, complaining and massaging his neck from his long day, that you came up with a little idea. You told him what you had in mind, and he raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued.

And that's how you found yourself on top of him, his head on the mattress revelling in your cunt while his face was pressed against your thighs. His saliva mixed with the succulent juices you were spilling for him dripped down his cheeks, and you were breathless.

"Miguel," you protested, "please-" your breath was ragged, your thighs trembling around his face, "it's too much."

Four, Miguel had given you four orgasms in this position alone by now, returning each time, never, oh never, tiring of your taste and warmth. At first you'd ridden him proudly, your pelvis undulating fluidly against his mouth and clutching your fingers in his hair. But now it was he who held your pelvis, preventing you from withdrawing from him as your own hands rested on his.

He seemed unstoppable, but on your side, every sensation seemed to be heightened tenfold as his fingers ran gently over your thigh sending an extra wave of heat through your lower belly. He was parting your folds with his toungue, fucking you with it relentlessly.

"Once more, por favor, nena," he mumbled, the sensation of his voice vibrating against you like that sending electric shocks through your body, a cry escaping you as you tilted your head to the side, disorientated, hoping you'd even be able to stand until your next orgasm.

You were always worried that you'd suffocate him, that your whole weight resting on his face would make him choke or that your thighs pressing against his cheeks would hurt, but to be honest, that's all Miguel wanted.

He wanted to cram himself between your thighs, you crushing him made him feel light after all, so he gripped your thighs and hips, holding you firmly against him as he nestled himself further against you.

He was drunk on you, drunk on your essence, your skin that he could grip, and he was proud to make you come so many times. Your weight was pressing down on his head superbly, and he didn't care if he ended up smothered under you.

His tongue worked wonders, his lips sometimes sucking on your clit, wrapping it in saliva and then kissing it afterwards. Sometimes you could even feel him graze your flesh with the tip of his fang. He hardened his tongue, stretching it out to penetrate you as far as he could, kissing your lips from time to time, and all these gestures again began to tighten the knot that had formed in your lower stomach.

"Miguel-" you whimpered, feeling as if all the words you wanted to say were going to come out pre-chewed and unintelligible.

Your fingers snaked through his hair, gripping it hard to anchor yourself, and he let out a moan against your pussy that vibrated through your entire being. He was pulling the strings of your body and you were singing for him.

The orgasm swept through you and fireworks went off inside you like a supernova, your whole body shaking as your moan rippled through your throat. You suddenly folded in half like a wilting flower, jolting as Miguel laid you back against him, stroking your hair and gently kissing your forehead as he whispered soft, tender words of praise.

However, your suggestion had indeed worked, because just after this pleasant experience, there was no longer any pain in the back of his neck. And from now on, when the accumulation of pain and aches began to make him feel too exhausted, he knew what he had to do.

just izu who knows you love his abs

The two of you are in your shared bed, you straddling his lap while he holds on tightly to your hips shoving his tongue down your throat while you grind down onto him.

Izuku hums in the kiss as he feels your fingers gently trickle down the sharp outline of his abs. You rub your hands up and down your chest feeling all up on him groaning at the touch alone, it was enough to really get you going. It was its own kind of sexy, you end up deepening the kiss and grinding down harder on him turning into more of a dry humping motion wih the repetitiveness.

You take izukus breath away, literally. With how much his heart is beginning to race with how good you're grinding into him he has to catch his breath, but it's as if you don't want to let him go. Izuku has to force you off of him, spit connecting your lips to his as you both breath heavily your hips come to a slow stop you look at him with a deep confusion and all he can offer you is a small chuckle.

“ what was...that all about, hon?”

He breathes in between his speech. You groan slightly turning your head and continuing to trace his abs. He rubs gentle circles on your hips giggling to himself.

The way he looked you deep in your eyes, his normally wide eyes rather calmed and sharp looking. There was a teasing glint in his eye as he grabbed both of your hands and had them rubbing up and down his body once more, slowly letting goru hands feel all over his chest and abs.

You bit your lip and your eyes couldn't stay in one spot flickering from his piercing gaze and his sharp abs. He just looked so damn good it was insane.

“ god, you're so sexy.”

You whine out causing him to chuckle below you, he lets go of your hands before bringing them back down to your hips, snapping the stretchy hem fabric of your panties against your skin causing you to wince and jolt up.

“ take these off f’me?”

You quickly get out of your now soaked underwear, he breathily laughs to himself at how wet you've gotten causing you to lightly slap his arm, he throws them to the side and grabs you once more by your hips and pulls you onto his abs your wet pussy pressing against his bare skin making him bite his lip and moan lowly.

Without anything needing to be said you began rocking your hips back and forth, grinding your sopping cunt down onto him, planting your hands firmly onto his shoulders and holding on izuku groans beneath you feeling your wetness and watching you get off.

Your moans start to quickly fall out as your breath quickens, your clit roughly brushing against his skin as you squeeze your eyes shut and feel his hands come to squeeze your thighs.

“, that's it baby, mmhm....so fucking needy.”

The absolute bare minimum was getting you there, you were so close as his slightly rasped voice coaxed you through your upcoming high. His hand then trail up to your clit and rubs it fastly making your head throw back and nearly fall back as well, izuku laughs at how hard you cum and coos at you telling you how good you are for him.

Small praises leaving your lovers lips as he stared at you in awe. He couldn't believe he made you cum by letting you ride his abs. That was a new one.

💋Smooching Dante’s cute face pls 💕😘

Thanks for the request. Many kisses for Dante xx

cw. fluff, making out, lipstick involved, gender neutral reader, chubby reader, minors do not interact

You cupped Dante’s face between your hands, reaching up on the tips of your toes as you planted firm kisses to his skin in a flurry of movement. He’s taken a little bit by surprise as you press closer to him, his hands anchored to your plump hips to keep himself steady as you attack his face with a multitude of kisses. You punctuate each kiss with a loud pop of your plush lips, your lipstick smudged into his pale skin as you continue your assault in a wild flurry. Dante couldn’t help but smile as he teasingly spoke. 

“Slow down babe, I ain’t going anywhere.”

You hummed softly, catching his cheeks between the pinch of your fingers until they flushed red. 

“I love you!” you proclaimed, pressing more fleeting kisses to his skin, until you could feel the stubble of his beard scratching against your round cheeks. “I love you I love you I love you~”

By now your lipstick was bleeding into Dante’s skin and smudging around the corners of your lips. But you purposefully avoided his mouth, waiting until you were both feeling a little breathless from your sudden spur of excitement and you had calmed down. Amusement sparkled in the depths of Dante’s eyes when you pulled back, kiss swollen lips puckered into a soft pout as he laughed merrily at your sudden whimsy. He raised his index finger and tapped it against the seam of his mouth. 

“You missed a spot” he said, quirking a snowy brow in anticipation.

You were invited closer, until his arms were wrapped firmly around your plump waist and you were raising yourself on the tips of your toes once more. Another soft hum tickled the back of your throat as you planted your lips on Dante’s, melting into the touch as he leaned down and kissed you back. Your teeth clacked awkwardly when you tried tipping your head at a different angle and you could feel Dante’s tongue lapping away whatever lipstick still remained painted on your skin. A thoughtful noise stirred in Dante’s chest before he spoke, his lips barely leaving yours as he uttered words into the plump cushion of your mouth. 

“Maybe I should go out more often, if I get greeted like this every time I come back~” he mused. 

A short huff of indignation blew from your nose and you nipped at Dante’s lips in retaliation. It barely stung and only encouraged Dante’s cheeky behaviour, fingers pinching your soft waist as you were folded further into his arms. He savoured the shape of your mouth as your taste tickled his tongue and lingered in his throat when he had to swallow. When your tongues touched briefly, he could feel small little bolts of electricity racing down the notches of his spine and he moaned unabashedly into the warmth of your mouth. 

You were left feeling pleasantly dizzy and you couldn’t help the smile that lit up your face at the sight of Dante’s face covered in overlapping lipstick marks. The soft snort that bubbled up your throat made him tilt his head in question. 

“Where’s my phone? I need to take a picture of this.”

Bakugo doesn’t notice it at first. Not until one morning, when he walks into class and sees you sitting at your desk, head resting on your arms. You look tired. More than usual. Dark circles under your eyes, the slight puffiness, like you had been crying.

Something twists in his chest. He likes it.

He doesn’t know why, but the sight of you like this, vulnerable, affected, satisfies something deep inside him. It means you still care. That even if you’ve been ignoring him, even if you’ve been acting like you’re fine, you aren’t.

And that means… you haven’t moved on.

The thought settles in his mind, dark and selfish. He should feel guilty. Should feel bad that you’re clearly hurting.

But instead, he feels something close to relief.

Because it means you still think about him. That even after everything, he is still the one lingering in your mind. Not anyone else.

Him.

And for now, that’s enough.

But then—

"Are you okay?"

Midoriya’s voice breaks through his thoughts.

And just like that, the relief turns to rage.

Bakugo watches, eyes narrowing, as Midoriya crouches beside your desk. His brows are furrowed in concern, his voice soft, too soft. And you? You look up at him, forcing a small smile. "Yeah, just didn’t sleep well."

Liar.

Midoriya doesn’t believe it either. He pulls something out of his bag, his notebook. "Here, I copied the notes from yesterday. You missed a lot."

You blink, surprised. Then, a genuine smile blooms across your face.

And Bakugo hates that.

Hates the way Midoriya makes you smile. Hates the way he’s looking at you, like you’re precious. Hates that you’re letting him.

It doesn’t stop there.

At lunch, you sit with Midoriya and the others instead of the usual squad. Bakugo doesn’t care. He doesn’t. Except he can hear you laughing. Can see the way Midoriya nudges your tray closer when you barely touch your food. Can see how you lean into him when he whispers something to you.

And worst of all, he sees the way Midoriya looks at you.

It’s the same way you used to look at him.

The rumors start soon after.

"Did you hear? Midoriya might like her" "I mean, have you seen them lately? They’re always together." "Honestly… kinda cute, don’t you think?"

The words slip through the classroom like a slow-moving poison.

Bakugo isn’t even trying to listen, but the whispers reach him anyway, each one pressing into his skull like a dull, persistent ache.

His fingers twitch. Then curl. Then clench into fists so tight, his nails bite into his palms.

Why does it bother him?

Why does his jaw tighten every time he sees you together?

Why does it feel like a punch to the gut when you walk into class and don’t even look at him?

Why does it piss him off so much when he catches Midoriya blushing because of you?

—

The breaking point comes on a normal day.

Bakugo’s already irritated, he doesn’t even know why anymore. Everything just pisses him off. The way Kirishima laughs. The way Denki’s chewing too loud. The way you are standing so damn close to Midoriya near the lockers.

Then, Midoriya reaches out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

It’s a small gesture. Barely anything. But it makes something in Bakugo snap.

Before he even realizes it, he’s grabbing your wrist, yanking you away.

"We need to talk."

You stumble but quickly regain your footing, yanking your hand out of his grip. "What the hell is your problem?"

"What the hell is yours?" Bakugo snaps back. His eyes are burning. "You and Deku. Why the hell are you always with him?"

You scoff, crossing your arms. "I don’t see how that’s any of your business."

"You—" He grits his teeth. "You don’t even wait for me after training anymore. You don’t—"

And that’s when you laugh.

It’s bitter. Cold.

"Bakugo, are you serious?" Your voice is steady, but your eyes, there’s something sharp in them. "You knew I liked you, didn’t you?"

He freezes.

You tilt your head, studying him. "You knew. And you let me believe I had a chance."

The words hit him like a punch to the gut.

"Did you ever care?" you whisper.

Bakugo doesn’t answer.

Can’t.

Because the truth is sitting in his throat like a stone, too heavy to swallow.

You watch him, waiting. Just hoping a little that maybe, just maybe, he’ll say something that makes this all worth it.

But he doesn’t.

He just stands there, fists clenched, teeth grit, jaw locked too tight and, nothing.

And that’s when you know.

You exhale, something in your shoulders loosening. Not relief. More like… exhaustion. Like the last bit of hope you had has finally withered away.

"That’s what I thought."

You turn to leave, but for a second, just a second, you hesitate. Like you’re waiting. Like you’re giving him one last chance.

But Bakugo stays silent.

So you exhale, something in your shoulders loosening. Not relief. Just exhaustion. Then, you walk away.

Bakugo doesn’t stop you.

Doesn’t reach out. Doesn’t say a damn thing.

Just stands there, watching as you disappear down the hall, watching as you walk out of his reach.

And this time, you don’t look back.

This time, you won’t come back. Part 1

the way i want to put him in a jar and shake it bc who knows maybe his butt will glow like a firefly

Hello! Could I request a Peter b Parker x wife! reader headcanons who’s also in the spider society?

Peter B. Parker with a Spider-Wife

he definitely tries to show off if you're on a mission together

like imagine hearing "honey, look over here!!" before he horrifically screws up (or maybe actually succeeds)

he's not protective or anything, because he knows you can handle yourself, but like you can't blame him for being at least a little over-worried if you get hit

"oh my god!! are you okay?? i should've taken that hit!!"

so. much. banter omg. like you're aware it's a Spider-Person thing to be adept at witty banter but when you're with your husband it just gets kicked up to an eleven

at this point miguel has given up on being annoyed and has just accepted that peter's just a gooey, mushy husband

after you first got married peter def bragged about it to everyone who would listen

"guys, did you know i'm married? look! there's my beautiful wife! (sigh) i love her so much."

literally everyone in the Society will be aware of your marriage

SO. MANY. PETNAMES

his favorites to use are basic ones tho. like "sweetheart" (or sweetie) "honey" or even "babe" if he's in a fun mood

he always likes being close to you regardless of location so whenever you're just hanging round Spider HQ he's still got a hand on your back and whatnot

or an arm around your shoulders if you're just standing somewhere

if he's feeling cheeky he'll be like holding your hand and swinging it while you walk

expect the spiderteens to be face-palming because Peter HAS to kiss you when you enter the room

it's like a requirement!!!

miles is embarrassed. gwen is amused. pav understands. hobie pretends he doesn't see it

getting introduced to everyone is a bit awkward at first since they've already heard so much about you

as stated above, Peter is a gushy sort

still can't believe he bagged you ngl

before you leave home in your own universe, he insists on a "farewell kiss"

"Peter, we're leaving together."

"But it's the thought that counts, honey!"

"𝓦𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓶𝓮?"

💫𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: (DMC5) Dante x Gender-neutral reader

💫𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: Dante can't help but feel a little insecure when his body is losing itself at his old age

💫𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Fluff, 1k word count & Spelling Mistakes

💫𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈: I had to make another one

💫𝒟𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒 “𝒮𝑜𝓃 𝒪𝒻 𝒟𝒶𝓇𝓀 𝒦𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒮𝓅𝒶𝓇𝒹𝒶”

Every day with you felt like a dream—waking up to you, while ignoring the countless calls ringing downstairs, eating with you. At the same time, you complain about his everlasting diet (boasts about having good skin even now), 

hanging out with you, when he should be doing work and adulting so that the devil may cry office does lose its power again since he can’t take on any job that doesn’t interest—he’s got standards he tells you, he’s not some easy man who’ll take any job that comes his way, it’s an insult that you would think that way about him.

At the beginning of the night, he takes off his boot, coat thrown somewhere that can keep it from falling from the floor—it ends up falling onto the floor anyway, in the middle of the night—The way you’d sigh and elbow him for hogging the blankets, the way he’d pull you closer anyway, muttering something about "have some chivalry" as if he were some kind of sleeping beauty.

You spent as long as you can remember with him in this cycle, going through many phases together. 

.

Now that he gets older, he can't help but get nostalgic. Back in the day, back when he was majestic (and still is), he looked like he was meant to be in Baywatch—and it isn’t his insane ego talking for him (it is). He remembered how you used to swoon over him (his words, not yours), watching with a look in your eyes that made your pupils look like hearts.

Which, in your interpretation, you don’t exactly remember you being as desperate and love-struck as he claims, though you did have a habit of lingering a little too long—but in your defence, that’s because you were worried about him. And he certainly won’t admit that he was projecting how he used to act onto you.

Ah. Those were the days he misses at times, yet somehow, you look even more attractive now than you did back then—something he’d say out loud, of course. (more differently and obnoxiously of saying it, "Guess my good looks finally rubbed off on you."). Even now, he still acts like the love-struck teenager he was back then.

But one of the few downsides of getting older was that he was prone to gaining a bit of weight, his body had the abs…just a little weight added onto (those pizzas were beginning to catch up with him in his 40s), staring at the mirror for a little. He usually would pout and try to get some reassurance from you, which you always gave. 

But today, he just felt strangely insecure over it, more than usual, so he finds himself not mentioning it to you.

He stands there a little longer than usual, fingers pressing against the slight softness where hard edges used to be. The mirror doesn’t lie—but then again, neither does time. He scowls at his reflection, as if sheer force of will could carve the years away.

“What are you doing?” 

You already knew what he was doing, but still had the courtesy to ask him, raising an eyebrow as you came out of the shower freshly clean and the smell of the body wash you use still radiating off.

Walking past Dante was in front of the full-length mirror—sitting on the edge of the bed as you take some lotion to put on your skin.

Dante huffs, crossing his arms as he finally tears his gaze away from the mirror. "Just admiring the view," he says, flashing you that same roguish grin that’s charmed you for decades—though now, the look in his eyes is similar to whenever he gets nightmares and he tries to persuade you otherwise.

Setting the lotion aside, you stand and cross the short distance between you, your fingers brushing his arm before sliding down to intertwine with his.  

"Admiring the view, huh?" you murmur, tilting your head. "Funny, because I was just thinking the same thing." Your other hand is going to cup his stubble cheek.

His smirk softens at your touch, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly. He leans into your palm, the roughness of his stubble pricks against your skin like tiny dull needles.  

"Cheesy," he mutters, but there's no bite to it—just that quiet, rare fondness he reserves only for you. His fingers tighten around yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles in a slow, absent rhythm. 

“Takes one to know one.”

You press a kiss to his jaw, right where the stubble is the softest, and feel the way his breath hitches—just slightly, just enough for you to notice.  

Dante exhales through his nose, turning his head to catch your lips properly, his free hand coming up to tangle in your damp hair. He can't help but bring his lips pressed tightly against your lips.

His stubble scrapes against your skin, and it’s rough; you can’t help the small sigh that escapes you. Dante swallows it greedily, his other hand sliding down to grip your waist, fingers pressing into the dip of your spine like the desperate maiden he is.

Your free hand goes to the little space between you and traces the slight softness where his abs used to be more defined. 

Dante tenses for just a second—that split-second hesitation that betrays him more than any words could. But then your fingers spread wide, pressing possessively against the warm skin of his stomach, and something in his posture shifts. 

"Still feels the same," you murmur against his lips, dragging your hand up to feel the solid muscle beneath. 

His hands can’t help but be influenced by your own when his hand goes under the waistband of your clothing.

"You," you murmur against his mouth, "are still my favorite view."

Dante barely gives you a second to breathe before he’s kissing you harder, rough and desperate, his hands sliding under your clothes like he can’t get close enough.

"You’re gonna kill me one day," he mutters, pulling your hand off his cheek, grinning as he presses his face right in your neck—the hairs pricking your neck nicely.

If you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

It's "dmc anime Dante is hot-" this and

"Young Dante is so hot -" that

DMC 5 DANTE??? IS SO SLEPT ON???

THE THINGS ID LET THIS MAN DO TO ME

DUDE ARE YALL BLIND??

IM OUT HERE LIKE

❝ Girl, I hope he made you satisfied. Well, baby, i won't cry. As long as you know that, when I land, you're mine. ❞

After a messy breakup with Dante and a year of silence, you’ve rebuilt your life from the ground up. Now, Dante's back, and one thing is clear — he's determined to make you his.

▷ i

▷ coming soon...

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : 4/20/25

cw/tags: TBA