#but it fucking HURTS and i can barely sleep

[babyybrii]

stalker simon pt.2 nsfw. part one

You wake to the weight of something heavy pressing into the mattress beside you—too slow and deliberate to be a dream. Your chest tightens before your brain catches up, before your eyes even open.

Then you feel it: gloved fingers sliding along your bare thigh. Gentle. Intentional.

Your eyes snap open.

He’s there.

Sitting on the edge of your bed like he belongs. Broad shoulders haloed in moonlight, mask pulled up just enough to expose the curve of his mouth. His lips curl when he sees the recognition in your face.

“Told you I’d come back.”

You open your mouth to scream, cry, yell—but his gloved hand is covering your mouth before you get the chance, warm and questionably gentle against your skin.

“Shhh, love” He shushes you, voice deep and quiet, thumb stroking your face softly, “Don’t ruin this.”

He shifts over you, laying you back down and hovering on top of you, using his legs to push your thighs apart so he can settle between them.

“You’ve been thinking about me. I know you have. Dreaming about this. Wetting your little panties every night hoping I'd come back.”

He drags the tip of his finger up your inner thigh, slow enough to make you shiver. You try to close your legs—some last, pathetic attempt at modesty—but he clicks his tongue and pushes them open again with his knee.

“No,” he murmurs, almost pitying. “You don’t get to hide from me. Not after you’ve been begging for this—even in your sleep.”

You shake your head, but it’s pointless—he’s already hooking a gloved finger around the waistband of your panties, tugging them down inch by inch.

“Look at you,” he breathes when they’re halfway down your thighs, his gaze flicking between your face and the slick he can see glistening in the moonlight. “You’re wet already. Fuck—knew you’d be perfect.”

He moves his hand towards your heat, using his finger to toy with your clit momentarily before bringing his finger up to his mouth, eyes on yours as his lips wrap around his finger—covered in your slick.

He hums, pleased, before bringing his hand back down, “You taste as sweet as you look, love.”

His hand slides back between your thighs, gloved fingers stroking you with an obscene familiarity, like he’s done this a thousand times already in his mind.

You try to twist away, but he shifts his weight, pinning you beneath him with effortless strength. His free hand grabs your jaw, forcing you to look up at him.

“Eyes on me,” he orders softly. “Wanna watch you fall apart.”

He starts to circle your clit again—slow at first, then a little faster. Every nerve lights up, your body arching into his touch in spite of yourself. You hate the way your hips begin to rock against his hand, desperate for more.

He notices, of course. He notices everything.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, voice dropping to a ragged whisper. “Knew you’d be so fucking pretty like this—so fucking needy.”

You feel the heat building—fast, unbearable—and he can feel it too, the way you tense and tremble beneath him. His pace doesn’t slow. If anything, he rubs harder, determined to drag it out of you.

“Gonna come for me?” he taunts, lips brushing your ear. “Gonna make a mess all over my hand, sweetheart?”

You nod. You’re so close it hurts, your breath breaking into ragged little gasps. One more second—one more stroke—

And then he stops.

You can’t help the raged whine that breaks through your lips, head snapping up to glare at him.

He’s smiling, of course. You think you even hear a chuckle slip past his lips as he wipes your own slick off of his hand and onto the covers next to you.

“Not tonight.” He finally speaks, eyes amused as his hand strokes your face. “You don’t get to come until you admit you’re mine.”

You huff, embarrassed and way hornier than you’d like to admit, refusing to meet his eye as he continues stroking your face.

“Awe, don’t be mad at me, lovey. I’ll make it real good when it happens.”

He leans forward, presses his mouth to your ear, and speaks so low you almost miss it.

“Sweet dreams, love. Think of me when you touch yourself tonight.”

Then he’s standing—just as quiet as he came—leaving you trembling and ruined in the dark.

Taglist: @ittybittyboos @blueeyedbrat0716

[wonbyyou]

hii I love ur work may I request something for jay? Maybe some angsty stuff like an argument and then him apologising or wtv you'd like in angst!

<3

Hope its not too much thank youu

hey anon, thank you for your ask and don't worry at all, it's never too much, you can send as many asks as you like, i'd love to write them all. it's such a great prompt plus, i haven't written angst before so it was very fun writing this piece. i hope you'll enjoy it.

for @onlyywwon

-

The muffled roar of the departing crowd outside was a dull counterpoint to the silence crackling between you and Jay. He slumped on a worn couch, damp hair plastered to his forehead from the encore, a half-empty bottle of water dangling from his fingers.

His stage clothes—black jeans and a threadbare band tee soaked with sweat incongruous against the cheap velvet. You stood near the door, your overnight bag already slung over your shoulder, the weight of disappointment heavier than the luggage.

"You cancelled again, Jay," you stated, your voice flat, devoid of the usual warmth reserved for him. It was the third time this month.

"Dinner. Reservations I made weeks ago. You said soundcheck ran late, then the promoter needed you, then…" You trailed off, the excuses tasting like ash. "You didn't even call. Just a text. 'Can't make it. Tour stuff.'"

Jay rubbed his eyes, exhaustion etching deep lines around them. "It was tour stuff, babe," he mumbled, his voice raspy from singing. "The label rep showed up unannounced. Had to schmooze. You know how it is." He gestured vaguely towards the door, towards the fading noise of his adoring fans. "This… it takes everything right now."

"Everything except me," you shot back, the dam breaking. The cool detachment vanished, replaced by a sharp, aching hurt. "That's what it feels like, Jay. Like I'm the last item on a checklist you never get to. You blow into town for 48 hours, sleep most of it, play the show, and then…" You swallowed hard. "You barely look at me. Barely talk to me."

He looked up, a flicker of defensiveness in his tired eyes. "That's not true. I'm just… wiped. You saw the show. That energy's gotta come from somewhere."

"And where does my energy go, Jay?" Your voice cracked. "Waiting? Hoping? Planning things you cancel? Feeling like a groupie you occasionally sleep with?" The accusation hung heavy. "I saw you tonight. After the set. Laughing with that photographer, Liv. Leaning in close, whispering jokes. You had plenty of energy for her."

Jay's head snapped up, his exhaustion momentarily replaced by indignation. "Liv? She's taking promo shots! It's work! Jesus, are you seriously jealous of work?"

"It's not jealousy!" you fired back, stepping closer, the air thick with unshed tears and frustration. "It's evidence! Evidence that you can engage, you can be present… just not with me. Not anymore. You give your best to the crowd, to the band, to the label reps, to the damn photographer… and I get the exhausted scraps."

You grabbed the strap of your bag tighter, knuckles white. "I feel invisible, Jay. Like I'm just… background noise to your main event."

He pushed himself off the couch, swaying slightly. "That's bull, you know what I'm building! This band… it's finally happening! It's for us!"

"For you, Jay!" you countered, your voice rising. "It's always been for you! Your dream, your schedule, your exhaustion! Where's us in that? Where's the us that existed before the tour bus became your whole world?" Tears finally spilled over, hot and humiliating. "I can't keep living on crumbs of your attention and then watch you light up for everyone else. I need more."

You turned towards the door, the cheap metal handle cold under your trembling fingers. The roar of the departing crowd was almost gone now, leaving an oppressive silence.

"Fine!" Jay's voice ripped through the quiet, raw and ragged, fueled by exhaustion, guilt, and a sudden, terrifying panic. "If I'm such a fucking burden, if my dream is such an inconvenience, then maybe you should walk! Go find someone whose life isn't so damn demanding!" The words were meant to wound, a desperate lash-out from someone cornered by their own neglect.

The cruelty of it stole your breath. You didn't hesitate. You yanked the door open, the cacophony of roadies breaking down equipment hitting you like a physical blow.

You stepped out into the chaotic backstage corridor, the harsh fluorescent lights stinging your wet eyes. You took one step, then another, heading towards the exit sign, the weight of his words a crushing stone in your chest. The sound of your own choked sob echoed in your ears.

Then, footsteps—frantic, heavy—pounding the concrete floor behind you. A hand, calloused from guitar strings, shot out and grabbed your arm, not to pull you back roughly, but to anchor you, to stop your retreat. You whirled, ready to shove him away, but the sight stopped you cold.

All the defensive anger, the tour-bus bravado, was gone. His face was pale beneath the stage makeup smudged with sweat, his eyes wide, bloodshot, and filled with a raw, undisguised terror. He looked utterly shattered, the rockstar persona evaporated.

"I'm sorry," he gasped, his voice a broken whisper, rough from singing and now thick with remorse. His grip on your arm tightened almost imperceptibly, a plea. "God, I'm so sorry. That was… vile. I didn't mean it. Not a word." He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "You're right. I've been… gone. Even when I'm here, I'm gone. Lost in this… this fucking machine."

He gestured helplessly back towards the green room, the symbol of everything consuming him. "I see you waiting. I feel you pulling away… and I just get scared, so I bury myself deeper in the noise." His thumb brushed over your wrist, a tentative, desperate touch. "Don't go. Please. I'll… I'll cancel the damn acoustic tour next week. I'll make time. Real time. Just… please."

His voice cracked completely on the last word, the apology hanging fragile and absolute in the grimy, chaotic air, the roar of the departing crowd finally silenced, leaving only the ragged sound of his breathing.

His hand on your arm felt like a brand, burning with the ghost of every missed dinner, every half-asleep conversation, every time you’d watched him laugh easily with someone else while you felt like a stranger in your own relationship.

His eyes, wide with raw panic and slick with tears mixed with stage sweat and rainwater, searched yours desperately. The offer hung there—I'll cancel the damn acoustic tour next week—but it landed like a stone in stagnant water.

It wasn't about next week. It wasn't about cancelling one thing. It was about the thousand little cancellations of you that had already happened. The way your shared dream had become solely his, leaving you standing on the periphery, waving from the shore as his tour bus pulled away, again and again.

You looked at his hand on your arm, then slowly, deliberately, you lifted your other hand. Not to touch him, but to gently, firmly, peel his fingers away. Your touch was cool, final. The warmth of his skin against yours, once your sanctuary, now felt like a painful reminder of what was slipping through your fingers.

"No, Jay," you said, your voice surprisingly steady despite the tremor deep in your chest. It wasn't loud, but it cut through the backstage clatter and his ragged breathing like a knife. It held no anger now, only a bone-deep weariness, a profound, aching sadness.

"Cancelling the tour won't fix this. It won't give us back the time that's already gone. It won't make me forget how it feels to be... an afterthought."

You saw the hope die in his eyes, replaced by a dawning horror as he truly understood you weren't bargaining, weren't waiting for a grand gesture. You were stating a fact.

"It's too late," you whispered, the words catching on the sob building in your throat. You took a deliberate step back, putting precious, irrevocable space between you. Your hand found the cold metal of the exit door push bar. "For us. It’s just… too late."

You didn't wait for another plea, another broken promise. You pushed the door open. The chaotic noise of load-out—the clang of equipment cases, the shouted instructions of roadies—surged in, a stark, indifferent counterpoint to the silent devastation in the corridor behind you. You didn't look back. You walked straight into the chaos, weaving through the cables and flight cases like a ghost, heading for the cool night air outside the venue's service entrance.

The moment the heavy metal door swung shut behind you, cutting off the noise and the sight of him standing broken in the corridor, the dam burst. A ragged sob tore from your throat, loud and ugly in the quiet alley.

Tears, hot and relentless, streamed down your face, blurring the harsh glare of the security lights. You fumbled for your phone, hands shaking violently, to call a ride. The cold night air bit through your thin jacket, but it was nothing compared to the icy void opening up inside your chest.

The taxi ride home was a blur of streaking city lights and stifled cries. You pressed your forehead against the cool window, shoulders shaking, trying to muffle the sounds escaping you. The driver glanced nervously in the rearview mirror but said nothing. Every red light felt like an eternity, each one a fresh wave of crushing grief.

You saw Jay’s shattered expression every time you closed your eyes—the panic, the tears, the desperate grasp on your arm. You heard his ragged apology, his offer to cancel… and your own quiet, devastating pronouncement: It’s too late.

Unlocking your apartment door felt like entering a tomb. The silence inside was oppressive, heavy with the absence of him. No discarded guitar picks on the coffee table. No familiar scent of his cologne lingering.

Just… emptiness. You dropped your bag, the sound echoing in the stillness, and sank to your knees right there in the entryway. The sobs came harder now, wracking your whole body, great heaving gasps that left you breathless and aching. You curled in on yourself, arms wrapped tight around your middle, as if you could physically hold the broken pieces together.

Too late. The words echoed in the hollow space, bouncing off the walls of your grief. It wasn't just about tonight's fight or the cancelled dinners. It was about the slow, insidious erosion of you within the relationship. The way you'd shrunk yourself to fit the margins of his demanding life.

The way the vibrant connection you'd once shared had faded into static, drowned out by the roar of the crowd and the relentless grind of the tour bus engine. You’d tried. God, how you’d tried to be understanding, supportive, patient.

But patience had curdled into resentment, understanding into invisibility. The love was still there, a raw, bleeding wound, but the foundation it was built on—mutual presence, shared attention, simple time—had crumbled to dust.

He’d seen you walking away. He’d chased you. He’d apologized. But the chasm was too wide, the neglect too deep. Fixing it would require a fundamental shift, a dismantling of the very thing driving him—the band, the success, the dream.

And you knew, with a certainty that felt like a death knell, that even if he tried, the resentment would fester. His dream had cost you yours—the dream of us. And that cost was simply too high. You cried until your throat was raw and your eyes burned, kneeling on the cold floor of your empty apartment, the silence broken only by your ragged breaths and the crushing, undeniable truth: it was over. The tour bus was moving on, and you were finally, irrevocably, left behind.

The deep, velvet blackness of night pressed down on you, heavy and suffocating. Sleep, when it finally came after hours of crying curled on the cold floor, was thin and haunted.

You drifted in a fog of exhaustion, the phantom ache in your chest a constant companion. Then, a shift in the air. The faintest creak of the bedroom door. Soft footsteps crossing the carpet. The mattress dipped beside you, the cool sheets rustling.

You didn’t startle. Didn’t panic. Some deep, instinctual part of you recognized the rhythm of his breathing, the familiar scent of him beneath the lingering traces of stale smoke and stage sweat—a scent woven into the very fabric of your memory.

Jay.

He slipped beneath the duvet silently, his movements hesitant, almost reverent.

Then, strong arms slid around you, pulling you back gently against the solid warmth of his chest. His forehead pressed against the nape of your neck, his breath warm and uneven against your skin. The dam you’d barely managed to shore up crumbled instantly. A fresh wave of silent tears soaked your pillow.

Slowly, painfully, you turned in his embrace. The faint moonlight filtering through the blinds caught the tear tracks gleaming on his face. His eyes, usually so bright with charm or fierce with stage energy, were red-rimmed, swollen, and swimming in raw, liquid sorrow.

He looked utterly wrecked, the confident singer stripped bare, leaving only a man drowning in regret. Seeing him cry, really cry, tore at something deep inside you.

He lifted a trembling hand, his thumb brushing away a fresh tear trailing down your cheek. His touch was infinitely gentle, a stark contrast to the desperate grip backstage.

"I know… I know I don’t deserve to be here. Shouldn't have come in without…" He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing visibly in the dim light. "But I couldn't… God, I couldn't stay away. Not after…" His voice hitched, breaking completely. He buried his face against your shoulder for a moment, his shoulders shaking with the effort of containing his own sobs. When he lifted his head, his eyes held yours with a desperate intensity.

"I was wrong," he whispered, the words heavy, carved from guilt. "So damn wrong. Every word I said… every accusation… it was poison. Lies I told myself because I was too chickenshit to face what I was doing to you."

His hand cupped your face, his thumb tracing the curve of your jawline with aching tenderness. "I took you for granted. Like you were… something that'd always just be there. My anchor. My safe harbor. And I…" He choked, fresh tears welling and spilling over. "I treated you like background noise. Like something that could wait. While I chased something shiny and loud." He shook his head, the movement frantic.

"I missed dinners. I cancelled plans. And when I was here…" His voice dropped to a shattered whisper. "I wasn't here. My head was still on the bus, on the stage, on the next damn thing. I wasn't giving you me. Just… the tired leftovers."

He took a ragged breath, pulling you closer, his arms tightening around you as if afraid you'd vanish. "I saw it," he confessed, his voice thick with self-loathing.

"I saw you pulling away. Fading. And instead of fighting for you, I got defensive. Angry. Blamed you. Because it was easier than admitting I was failing you. Failing us." He pressed his forehead against yours, his tears mingling with yours on your cheeks.

"I let the best part of my whole damn world slip through my fingers because I was too blind, too selfish, to see what I had right in front of me until you were walking out that door."

He paused, the silence heavy with the weight of his confession. His dark eyes, still swimming, held yours with unwavering sincerity, stripped of all pretense, all rockstar bravado.

"I love you," he breathed, the words raw and profound. "More than the roar of any crowd. More than any stage. More than this whole damn dream. It ain't worth a thing without you beside me." His thumb brushed your lips softly.

"I swear to you, on everything I am, I won't do it again. I won't take a single second with you for granted. I'll be here. Present. Every damn time. I'll cancel whatever I gotta cancel. Rearrange whatever needs rearrangin'. The band…" He swallowed again, the words costing him, but he meant them.

"I'm nothing without you. Please…" His voice cracked, a broken plea. "Please give me a chance to prove it. To be the man you deserve. I can't… I can't lose you. Don't make me live in a world where I drove you away."

The raw vulnerability in his voice, the utter devastation on his tear-streaked face, the desperate sincerity in his promises—it shattered the last of your defenses. The love you thought was buried under layers of hurt and neglect surged forward, potent and undeniable.

You saw not the neglectful singer, but the man you’d fallen for, broken and pleading for redemption. You didn't want a world without him either.

Slowly, tremblingly, you lifted your hand, mirroring his gesture, cupping his stubbled cheek. His skin was warm, damp with tears beneath your palm. You leaned in, closing the scant distance between you.

Your lips met his—not with fiery passion, but with a profound tenderness, a desperate affirmation. A silent acceptance of his apology, a promise of your own. A mingling of salt from both your tears, a sealing of the fractured space between you.

His arms tightened convulsively around you, pulling you flush against him, a shuddering breath escaping him as he returned the kiss with equal parts desperation and reverence. It was a kiss born of shared grief, profound remorse, and the fierce, unyielding determination not to let go.

His body, warm and solid against yours, felt like both an anchor and a lifeline.

The desperate kiss sealing his apology had settled into a fragile truce, but a deeper hunger stirred—a need for tangible proof, for skin-on-skin absolution. You shifted, turning fully into the shelter of his arms. Moonlight caught the lingering dampness on his lashes, the profound remorse etched beside the fierce devotion in his dark eyes.

Your thumb traced the rough line of his jaw, feeling the tremor beneath your touch. "Jay," you breathed, your voice husky, thick with a yearning that went beyond mere desire. "Make love to me. Show me you're really here. All of you."

His breath hitched, a ragged intake of air. He searched your eyes, seeing the lingering shadows of hurt beneath the desperate hope.

"Sweetheart," he rasped, his voice rough with emotion. "Always. Only ever for you." He didn’t pounce; he approached you like sacred ground. His lips met yours in a kiss that was achingly soft, a slow exploration laced with reverence. His calloused hand, familiar and beloved, slid down your side with infinite care, pushing up the thin cotton of your sleep shirt.

Each inch of skin revealed was met with the brush of his lips—your collarbone, the curve of your shoulder, the swell of your breast.

His hand journeyed lower, skimming your hip, coming to rest on the bare skin of your inner thigh. His touch was a question whispered against your pulse point. You arched silently, a sigh escaping as his fingers found the damp heat of you through your panties. He palmed you gently, a slow, circling pressure that made your hips lift. "So ready," he breathed, nuzzling your neck.

"Soaking for me already?" With agonizing tenderness, he hooked a finger under the elastic, easing the fabric down, his eyes holding yours captive. Cool air kissed your core, but his touch returned instantly, sliding through slick folds with a reverence that stole your breath. He groaned, gathering your wetness. "My sweet girl. Always so sweet for me."

He took infinite time opening you. One thick finger traced your entrance, circling maddeningly before sinking in with exquisite slowness. The stretch was profound, a deep filling ache that drew a gasp from your lips. He watched your face intently, his thumb finding your clit with feather-light precision.

"That's it," he soothed, his voice low and hypnotic. "Just let go, baby. Let me love you like you deserve." He worked you open with one finger, then two, each shallow thrust deeper, each twist deliberate, building the sweet tension strand by strand.

His whispers were a constant benediction: "Never rushing you again… gonna learn every inch… worship this perfect pussy every damn day… always present for you… always…" By the time he withdrew, you were trembling, open and slick, aching for the fullness only he could give.

Shedding his clothes was a quiet, focused act. His cock, heavy and hard, nudged against your thigh. He positioned himself between your legs, bracing on his forearms, cradling you.

The broad head pressed against your entrance, slick with your arousal. He pressed forward with infinite slowness, letting you feel every ridge, every thick inch as he stretched you, filled you, reclaimed the space that was uniquely his.

"Look at me, sweetheart," he commanded softly, his voice strained with restraint. "Look at me while I love you." You drowned in the depths of his gaze—love, remorse, adoration swirling in the moonlight.

He sank deeper, deeper, until fully seated with a groan that vibrated through both of you. "God… yes," he gasped, forehead dropping to yours. "This is home."

He began to move. Not fast, not hard, but with a deep, rolling cadence that felt like a vow written on your skin. Slow, deliberate thrusts dragged his length against every sensitive place inside you, each withdrawal an exquisite emptiness, each return a profound relief.

His hips moved with a gentle power, his body blanketing yours. He kissed you deeply, his tongue mirroring the languid push of his cock. His hands roamed—cupping a breast, thumb grazing a taut nipple, gripping your hip to anchor you closer. "Never taking this for granted," he whispered against your mouth. "Never making you feel second best… right here with you… feeling every tremble… every sigh… you're everything… everything…"

The pleasure built like dawn breaking—slow, golden warmth spreading from your core outward. You clung to him, legs locked around his waist, meeting each deep stroke with a roll of your hips.

The intimacy was staggering—shared breath, shared skin, shared heartbeat. As the coil inside you tightened unbearably, as the slow burn ignited into white-hot need, the words tore from you, raw and true, gasped against his lips: "I love you, Jay… Oh God… I love you…"

Hearing it, feeling your body clench fiercely around him as you confessed it, shattered his control. His rhythm faltered, then surged deeper. His eyes locked on yours, wide and burning with intense emotion as his own climax seized him.

"I love you!" he cried out, the words ripped from his soul, rough and fervent as his hips drove into you one final, deep time. "I love you so damn much… almost lost you… love you… love you…" His body shuddered violently against yours as he pulsed deep within you, spilling with a heat that felt like a molten seal on his desperate vow.

He collapsed onto you, his weight a grounding comfort, his face buried in your neck, his breath coming in hot, ragged gasps against your damp skin.

He didn't pull away; he held you impossibly closer, still buried deep inside the warm clasp of your body. The silence was thick with the aftermath—the slowing thunder of hearts, the mingled scent of sex and salt tears, the profound sense of a rift finally bridged.

"I'm here," he whispered hoarsely against your ear after long moments, his voice thick with unshed tears and absolute conviction. "Not leavin'. Not ever again. You're my world." He lifted his head slightly, his dark eyes glistening as they met yours. "I love you," he repeated, softer now, but no less fierce.

"I love you too," you murmured back, the truth of it settling deep into your bones. You kissed him softly, sealing the words, sealing the promise in the quiet aftermath. Tangled together, sweat-slicked and breathing as one, the ghost of neglect dissolved entirely.

Only this remained: the solid warmth of him inside and around you, the steady beat of his heart against yours, and the profound, unshakeable certainty echoed in their shared whispers—I love you. The tour bus was silent. The only destination that mattered was right here.

[wendichester]

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ the aftermath never ends²,

summary. one wrong word. one wrong glance. one wrong breath and it's been enough to throw you and dean off balance.

pairing. dean winchester x reader ( gn )

wordcount. 730 genre. angst

warnings. heavy emotional angst, toxic relationship patterns, harsh language, emotional manipulation, implied codependency, messy breakup, some physical affection (non-sexual), mention of trauma

notes. y'all can blame @daryls-luvrr for this finger-licking delicious angst. i love you and your brain 😮‍💨

ᯓ★ read part 1

In the morning, it's muscle memory.

Your face is pressed to the curve of Dean’s chest, legs tangled together beneath scratchy motel sheets. One of his hands is splayed across your back like he never let go. Like the argument, the lamp, the silence—all of it got erased somewhere between exhaustion and unconsciousness.

And for one second—just one—you almost let yourself pretend. That this is normal. That this is okay. That you’re not lying in the rubble of something that should’ve ended last night.

Then your eyes open.

And it hits you like a shotgun to the chest.

This. After last night? After what he said—what you said? You’re still here. Still clinging to something already halfway buried.

Your breath stutters. Not loud enough to wake him, but enough to burn.

You untangle yourself slowly, carefully, like dismantling a bomb. He stirs, just barely, but doesn’t wake. His face is soft in sleep. Not peaceful—Dean Winchester hasn’t been peaceful in years—but soft enough to hurt.

You sit on the edge of the bed and stare at your boots. At your gear. At the place where the lamp used to be.

Your voice echoes back to you in your head: “I didn’t sign up for you.” His: “I don’t need you.” God. What the hell are you still doing here?

You start moving on instinct. Pull on your jeans. Your hoodie. Tie your boots too tight. You just need air. Just need space. Just need to think without the weight of him pressed against your ribs.

But of course—because the universe loves irony—he wakes up right then.

You hear the shift of sheets. Then:

“…Y/N?”

You don’t turn.

Dean’s voice is still husky with sleep. “You okay?”

That breaks something in you.

You whirl around, eyes hot. “No. No, I’m not okay. Jesus, Dean, what the hell is wrong with you?”

He’s sitting up now, frowning. “What did I—”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know,” you snap. “You think just because we ended up in the same bed again that it makes last night disappear?”

His jaw tightens. “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to. This—” You gesture between the two of you, breath catching. “—this is what’s killing us. We scream, we throw shit, and then we crawl into bed like that makes it okay.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Yes, it is,” you shout, voice cracking. “We love each other like it’s war. Like it’s punishment. Sam was right—we’re tearing each other apart.”

Dean’s on his feet now too, tension rolling off him like heat. “So what? That’s it? You’re just walking away?”

“I have to!” Your fists clench. “I love you, Dean. God help me, I do. But this isn’t love anymore. It’s survival.”

He looks at you like you just stabbed him. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” you whisper. “And the worst part? I don’t even know where we went. We used to laugh. We used to talk about stupid crap—like settling down in some nowhere town. Getting a dog. Watching reruns.”

Dean looks down. And for a second, you think he’s going to say something soft. Something real.

But instead, he says, “You were never gonna stay. Not really.”

And you laugh. It’s ugly. Bitter. “Don’t do that. Don’t rewrite history to make me the villain because you’re too scared to admit you fucked this up.”

“You think I don’t know that?!” he explodes. “You think I don’t wake up every day knowing I break everything I touch?! I didn’t ask for this, Y/N. I didn’t ask for you to stay, or to care, or to make me believe I could be more than this—this broken, hunting-machine version of a person.”

Silence chokes the room again. This time, there’s no Sam to break it.

You just breathe, shallow and quick. Like your lungs forgot how.

And then—quietly, more broken than angry—you say, “I think we’re done, Dean.”

He doesn’t answer.

You cross to your duffel. Shoulders shaking. Every step feels like a betrayal.

When you reach the door, you glance back one last time. He’s still standing there, motionless. Watching you like you’re a ghost already.

You don’t expect him to stop you. And he doesn’t.

You shut the door behind you.

And this time, it doesn’t slam.

It just… closes.

Like the end of something that mattered once. Like a chapter bleeding out. Like goodbye.

ꔛ. all works ; writing guidelines ; support my work .ᐟ

[chezzywezzy]

Yandere Joshua Washington (7/7)

WC: 4.7k

“…R. Wake up. I hear something.”

The woman’s eyes shot open and her head almost collided with the counter above her. Although she had only slipped into unconsciousness for mere minutes, her body had fought off exhaustion for so long that sleep had won her over the moment her head hit Matt’s shoulder.

But despite the impending danger, her mind was not alert. Her body was, yet her brain wanted to sink further into her drowsiness and ignore the heavy footsteps that sounded on the wooden porch outside.

“R. Why’d you fortitude the shit outta this place, huh? It’s just you and me now. God, how’d your frail little bones even move the damn shelf?” Josh called, his voice hoarse and tired. 

His voice struck enough of a chord that R blinked. Matt’s grip on her shoulder suddenly tightened. She glanced at him tiredly, noticing that the man was gripping his mouth with fear and his eyes were glossy. His entire body was trembling. And so, R gave his hand a reassuring squeeze before moving out from underneath.

It was crucial that Matt was kept hidden. After all, R had no idea what Josh’s plans were for her. Matt would more than likely be the only one who could provide evidence, or it would be her against Josh and his parents’ money bags.

Matt watched cautiously as R scooted from underneath. Her body was sluggish; it could hardly move. She wondered what drugs or beverages Josh must have consumed to still be so alert after chasing and torturing his friends all evening. The man under the counter pulled the machete closer, as well as the other resources that he’d brought with him.

R should have felt fear as Josh’s wide, manic eyes stared at her from the other side of the window. A lazy grin spread across his face and he pressed his palm to the window. But the woman did not have the strength to frown nor smile. Her arms were limp against her side and she had to lean against the counter for support as she swayed. Even standing, her body was tempted to fall back into slumber.

Josh’s eyes twinkled with worry and the man suddenly raised his axe to the window. Alarmed, R stumbled back and collapsed on the ground. Glass came crashing as the window broke and the man carefully climbed through. His heavy boots grew puddles under his feet as he crouched in front of the woman, tilting his head. 

His eyes were bloodshot and his breathing shallow. He set the axe on the ground beside him and extended his uninjured hand. R flinched as his bare, chilled fingers ghosted across her cheeks, prodding at a cut that the woman had sustained somewhere along the line. His eyes flashed with hurt before his face morphed into a deeper grief. He fell forward on his knees and his arms trembled as he balanced above her. His hair cast shadows across his eyes as tears flooded down his cheeks.

“…R. Please don’t hate me. I did all of this… for you. For us. Fuck, man, I know all of this is fucked. You must think I’ve gone insane -! But I just… I wanted to make you feel better so you’d come back to me…”

The man muttered incoherently as his words turned to nonsense. He blinked away tears in an instant. His sadness had seemingly disappeared at a moment’s notice, and his eyes were warm. R knew she had her moment and so did Matt. But neither of them seemed to have any guts to retaliate. It made R feel horrible because with every passing moment, it meant only further unsafely and risk for both people.

“I love you, babe. I always will, okay? All of this anguish can be buried now, so…”

R bit her lip as her elbows gave out and the woman let herself sink against the wooden planks. The dawn flickered into the ski lift and she winced.

“What about… Matt? He… never deserved any of this. Please, Josh… Please set him free,” R sighed, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Josh suddenly let out a girlish giggle, adjusting to sit criss-cross-applesauce. His hand fell softly on her knee and his propped his chin on it, gazing fondly at the woman. “You’re so kind, R. So forgiving of everyone but yourself. Surely you understand that that bumbling coward is a loose end, right?”

R’s breathe became shallow, feeling Josh’s fingers tremble as they drifted across her hips, waist, and chest with feverish intent. His shoulders slumped as though the burden of the night had suddenly slid down his back.

“I… I’m a loose end too, Joshie. What exactly do you think will happen after this?”

Josh seemed instantly offended and his hand suddenly clamped tightly at her clothes. “You think anyone’s gonna believe you, R? You… you think you could get away from me, or the cops’ll believe your story…? You’ve been through a lot of trauma, R. I mean, seriously… a boyfriend suddenly skipping town, an unfortunate vandalism of the main house, and an avalanche nearing an anniversary? Hell, Matt’s probably burning alive down there in that dark ass basement as we speak, heh… Speaking of which, the moment the power turns back on, we’ve gotta scram. Bomb’s’ll detonate in half an hour.”

R’s eyes widened, causing the man to chortle as though he was clever. “Remember that I’ve got a damn degree in science and shit. Money’ll buy all the right ingredients without people giving a shit in this world.”

“Joshie… do you really not feel any remorse? You’re a murderer. You could be happy and successful right now instead of doing this.”

“I do feel pretty fucking happy and successful, R.”

The man shrugged as he rose to his feet. He offered a hand, but when R did not take it, he exhaled sharply and hoisted her by the armpits, having hooked himself underneath.The woman glanced back at the counter women warily, eyes wide. Matt had tightened his grip on the machete, as though steeling himself for the right moment. Car keys dangled from Josh’s pants pocket as if to assure R that he had taken all the precautions.

This seemed to be when Matt came to terms with the fact that Josh had to die for them to live.

The floorboard creaked as he launched himself from underneath the counter. Josh seemed bewildered as he swung around, leaving R to balance herself and fish through her pockets.

Somehow, Josh had anticipated it, stopping the blade mere inches from his face by grabbing at the hilt. The men grunted as a fight for strength begun, but was quickly ended as Matt stumbled back. He went to slash again, but Josh ducked to the side and tripped over the axe, grabbing it on his way to the ground. Matt swung the machete again, cursing loudly when Josh extended the distance. That was when Matt instead prioritized sticking closer to R. His breathing was labored and terrified.

R was caught off guard, but fished through her pockets to pull out a pocket knife and a scalpel, far inferior to the men’s weapons. Josh turned to anger instantly, and that anger was cold and hateful. At that moment, the shack began to rattle as the generator booted up again and the control panel glinted with the temptation of escape.

“H - hey, man, you’re outnumbered here,” Matt stated. “Just… give us the car keys and we’ll be out of your hair. And - and your right! I bet you could buy the cops, s - so just let us go, okay?”

Josh scoffed, almost arrogantly. “Another fucking charity case, R? Seriously? Fucking Jesus. I guess it couldn’t hurt to chop up one more sicko. Get out of the way, R.”

The woman stood her ground and took a step in front of Matt. “No, Joshua —“

“Joshua? I guess you’re still not feeling too hot.”

The man surged forward, trying to maneuver around the woman. Logistically, Josh did not stand a chance. Not only was he one man, but he was down a hand. And so, R trembled as she gripped the weapons threateningly. Josh blinked and twisted the hilt, swinging the wooden handle at her. She screeched and blocked it with her arm. Matt swung the machete, but Josh maneuvered the handle to block that.

R crushed and leapt at the man. He stumbled, pain surging through his legs as a pocket knife was lodged in his ankle. His cheeks reddened with fury as he shook his leg. His foot ended up swinging into her jaw and R suddenly heard a crack, rolling to the side. The gusts of wind of the endless ledge taunted her, but she grabbed Josh’s foot before R got too close.

Matt took advantage of Josh’s lack of balance, slashing at Josh’s head. The man ducked and used the same maneuver R had, the woman releasing a sharp gargle of pain as her wrist snapped from the sudden movement. R curled her knees to her chest and writhed, feeling how her boats cracked out of place more than they usually did/. The scalpel had fallen through a crack near the ledge at some point.

Matt let out a yelp as Josh wrapped an arm around Matt’s legs and the other man’s head suddenly collided with the counter. The machete tumbled to the floor as black dots clouded Matt’s vision, his body twitching as he slumped. However, that didn’t mean that Josh had settled. His other arm swung the axe with what little strength he could muster, allowing the axe to submerge in the man’s chest.

Even when fighting unconsciousness, the man spewed blood from his lips, releasing a few blinks. Josh swung onto his knees, hissing from the pocket knife still lodged in him. 

R watched in agony, grasping at her jaw. Feeling her bones crack uncomfortably was not foreign from her cursed body. But she was somehow more impressed that she wasn’t dead yet. Tears slid down her cheeks as she stared lazily as Josh took a few swings with the machete, fully beheading Matt. He slowly rose to his feet again, grasping at the head’s hair before slumping to face R. His eyes glinted with fury, but remorse almost loomed on his expression.

“Fucking… hell, R. Jesus fucking christ, babe. I can’t believe you’d hurt me, even if it was pretty goddamn pathetic.”

He pulled a syringe from his pocket before pulling up his torn and blooded sleeves. With a grunt, he stabbed it into his arm and it was as though the pain and sleepiness rolled off his back.  He rolled his shoulders in a stretch and, with ease, removed the small pocket knife in his leg. R released a weak whimper, squeezing her eyes shut fearfully.

Josh fell silent as he pressed some of the operative buttons on the ski lift and buzzing began to emit. R released ragged breaths as her body went limp. She had to fight for her life not to barf at the sight of the man she’d fought so long and hard to keep alive.. But at least it was quick and - mostly - painless, at least considering how Josh’s other friends went. 

The man grunted as his arms looped beneath R. She kept crying quietly, her uninjured hand grasping at the winter coat. Her body was so overstimulated from all her bodily needs being neglected at once. Josh sighed deeply, his muscles flexing from strain. He grabbed onto the ski carriage before stepping inside.

The moment he sat down, R felt his leg bouncing anxiously. R watched lazily as her head fell back into the crook of his blood-coated neck. He stank to high heavens of the carnage he created, even with early morning winter winds blistering through the cracks of the carriage.

Josh finally let go of his boiling anger as he tilted his head just enough to glance over R. He felt a little bad, but the woman had it coming after acting like he was trying to kill her all night. He couldn’t fathom a world where R had actually intended to stab or  wound him, but clearly she’d felt threatened enough.

He’d pumped himself full of various drugs the whole night, but now, his body ached to some degree. Regardless, he let out a heavy sigh of relief and his eyes crinkled with joy. Somehow, his one healthy arm was intact enough as his fingers traced across R’s jawline. He huffed in concern when he felt just how labored and poorly aligned she was. 

His fingers trailed down to her collar bone, rubbing back and forth comfortingly. The woman’s wet, sloppy tears seared against his neck and a blush rose to his cheeks., He squeezed her closer before reaching his hand into her hair and helping prop herself up more comfortably.

“Look, babe. The sun’s up. Doesn’t it look nice?” Josh mumbled gently, excitedly observe ing as her eyes roamed the mountain landscape. The pink sky was almost pretty, if not for how it made her think about all the blood and anguish a mere twelve hours had held.

“Hey, I’ll help you rest, okay? God, I really didn’t want to overdo it on you, but… When you wake up, I promise it’ll hurt a little less, okay?”

R could hardly feel as a needle bore into her neck once more and she allowed her body to fully slump against his warm body. Josh muttered a few more comforting words. The drug activated almost instal, unlike previously, but R could not be happier to be stolen from reality once more.

~~~

The pink Hawaiian sunset peeked below the saline as R leaned against the rail of Josh’s parent’s hut, buried on a private island they’d somehow manage to acquire. The ‘small/‘ boat floated at the edge of the beach, a couple hundred yards below. The hut was sat on a small slope. The blistering heat had finally settled and a firm breeze caused R to shrink against Josh, who was beside her.

The man seemed to be at peace. He often was, but the gentleness in his dark eyes was almost unfathomable. There was always a tenseness when he was in society, a wall he put between himself and others. But here they were. And R could not be more grateful for the opportunity to get the ability to travel just because of the exquisite man she’d fallen for.

R never imaged being there in that moment, beside the man she loved and who was somehow perfect. He was funny and charming when he first asked her out in a shared freshman class. And although R had always had an innate distrust in men, she fell hard and fast. It took everything within her not to drunkenly spill out an “I love you” even a month in. Yet, somehow, Josh had beat her to every single landmark. 

He was the first man to buy her flowers consistently, to prod and investigate her tastes and hobbies, to humor her when she was angry or hold her when she was sad. He was the first to love her so unconditionally, to never ask for anything in return but her company. He made loving him easy.

She recalled how her snoopy friends who she put up with said she was being stupid for trusting him so easily and moving so fast. But she couldn’t have cared less. R had bagged the perfect man - smart, funny, handsome, rich.

And so, there they were, leaning against the railway of a private island off the coast Hawaii. It made her wonder what she’d ever done to receive such a blessing.

“Joshie,” R muttered fondly, leaning her head against his shoulder.

The man hummed contently before wrapping his arm around her waist and holding her against him. They were both slightly damp from an early evening swim, and Josh was already sporting a sunburn on his nose and shoulders, despite how thorough R had been. But like always, Josh was quick to one-up her and turn the spraying of sunscreen into that of a massage - of course, with some perish intent.

“Yeah, babe?”

“I love you, Joshie.”

“I love you too, babe. You’re everything to me.”

“No, really, Josh…” R muttered. “You know the kind of upbringing I have. My parents love me, my family loves me, but… America has never been the most forgiving to immigrant families from (a country). They always pressured and motivated me, but their love always felt conditional - like if I suddenly stopped getting good grades or stopped expanding my talents, I’d ben putting all of their hard work of giving me a better life to shame. I know it’s not true, but… that’s how I think everyone’s always treated me, even if they don’t mean to. But you, like… you’re not like that. Hell, I never thought I’d date a frat boy since I always thought they were scummy and I’d feel fucking insecure dating one, but… I’ve never met someone who makes me feel so safe and secure. Thanks, Joshie.”

R sunk against him further, feeling how he smiled into her neck blissfully. “Aw, come on, babe. You’re the most lovable person out there. You could sit on your ass and do nothing for the rest of your life and I couldn’t care less as long as you were mine.”

The man romantically peppered kisses leading up to her ear before nibbling slightly. The woman giggled before pulling her arms up and turning. The couple was quick to kiss passionately. Even when kissing, there man had maneuvered a hand to her lower back before pressing her against the harsh wooden rail, fingers tickling her kindly.

R felt so happy she could cry. Josh pulled away before looping his athletic arms underneath her and pulling her off the ground with ease. The woman squealed into the kiss while wrapping her legs around his torso and the beating sun became distant as Josh somehow maneuvered into the small hut that had but three or four rooms. 

The woman was gently placed on the couch and R’s arms unravelled as Josh pulled away slightly. His cheeks flushed and his typically goofy grin became a loving smile. He gave the woman’s ass one last squeeze before pulling away and crouching in front of her, hands grasping at her sun-kissed legs.

He shut his eyes gently as he pressed his cheek to her lap like a pillow and R weaved her fingers through his freshly cut black hair. The man hummed into the touch before his eyes squinted and some wetness escaped, even as a smile stretched so much it hurt.

R mumbled sweet, concerned nothings as Josh wrapped his arms around her torso, fingers pulling tightly against her skin. 

“Joshie, what’s wrong?” she prodded.

“Nothing, babe… I just… God you’re perfect. I just want fucking college to over. I swear to god, everyone sucks there. I just want to live life with you already,” he chuckled. “God, I just want to spoil you…”

“But you’re crying, Joshie,” the woman greeted, thumb swiping gently underneath his eyes. “You know it worries me.”

“I’ve always been emotional, babe. I just never showed it until you. You’ve made me the man I am in every capacity. God, I know I act like a fucking doofus half the time, but… you mean everything to me.”

R leaned against the couch as Josh quietly clambered, laying atop the woman without suffocating her with his larger body. His head rested on her chest, staring at her. R suddenly felt her body tense with irrevocable fear as it was like the world around her melted away. Josh no longer looked so sweet; he had under-bags, cuts, and bruises littered across his body and his eyes dulled to an unkind anger. His  grip became harsh and his weight suffocating and R’s head tossed every which way.

It was no longer an island hut, but a dilapidated shed that was coated with blood and mounted with the heads of his friends.

“You mean fucking everything, R. You Don’t have a choice. You’re never getting away. Never, never, never —“

R’s eyes shot open before immediately wincing as a stream of sunlight peaked through dark curtains directly into her eyes. A groan immediately escaped her lips and her body was wracked with a numbing pain from her jaw. Her body no longer felt cursed with aches or itches or cold or hunger or thirst, but as her eyes trailed across the room, it became very obvious as to why.

She was in a plush queen bed with several of her stuffed animals. She had a small cast on one arm and the other was linked to two separate catheters. She immediately felt how badly her bladder screamed at her. She hissed at the sudden dilapidation of her muscles the moment she dared to flex.

But the woman slowly eased up nonetheless. 

The location was strange and foreign. When the woman had finally stood, she took in the environment. It was humble, but beyond the window was a vast backyard before a mellow countryside. There weren’t any noticeable landmarks of other human life, and the road with a faded truck even seemed to be gravel. Despite the old country house style, it did not seem old. It screamed of southern wealth of some sort. 

The woman left the large bedroom, the two catheters trailing behind. She was baffled. It did not seem like Washington state, or even a northern location. She had no concept or time except for how angry her bladder was.

The house let out small croaks with each step until she found a bathroom. R peered at her reflection and couldn’t help the dosage of serotonin. It was decked out in niche decorations that she could only dream of and the walls were fashionably styled in her favorite colors. The tiles hit her cold feet.

She was in a bathrobe and a t-shirt that smelled of her ex boyfriend. The woman looked rough, some faded bruises littered across her body. Her muscles groaning from every movement. It felt like she was on death’s doorstep, even if she felt refreshed and alerted. R splashed water on her face and tended to the dehydration in her mouth.

Despite it all, she felt clean and well-tended to. R was glad, trying to push memories of Josh’s carnage from her mind. Although her mind blocked it out, her body remembered.

“Hey, you okay in there, babe?”

R blinked, Josh’s casual yet concerned tone sounding from the other side of the thick wooden door. It opened slowly as the woman stumbled against the sink. Adrenaline coursed through her veins in an instant, fear rushing back to her. A quiet whimper escaped, eyes glued to the man.

Somehow, he seemed to be in a worse shape. He sustained a limp and had even more bruises, as well as a hand cast. However, the bags under his eyes were mostly gone and he hardly acknowledged the hardship from his movements.

He sent a lazy grin before entering, grabbing her hand. R was quick to flinch, and his delusional calm broke in an instant.

“Jesus, R. I really spooked ya that much?”

R gulped. “J - Josh, where are we? What hap - hap - why am I - please don’t hurt me —“

Josh’s lips upturned into an offended snarl, his hand gripping her shoulder tightly. His eyes swirled with dismay as he towered over the shrinking woman. 

“Calm the fuck down, babe, seriously. You’re acting like I’m a fucking psycho. Come on, come lay down. Your safe, I promise. I just wanted to make sure you were holding up okay. I guess you’re a bit of a softie, but… Come on, you shouldn’t be stressing out so bad. Let’s go lay down, ‘kay?”

R bit her lip as tears escaped, but the man carefully ushered her back to the bedroom. R sat on the bed, bunching the blanket in her fingers. Her eyes flittered around the room with panic as Josh kneeled on the ground carefully, laying his head on her lap. His free hand rubbed circles on her thigh.

“You… you killed people, Josh…” R mumbled. “You killed my boyfriend, your friends… How are you just acting like everything’s okay now?”

Josh shrugged. “You’re acting like they didn’t fucking deserve it, babe. I mean, you’re the one who encouraged me to get closure. And now I have. And hopefully you have, too. I couldn’t be any happier. So much has happened the last few weeks —“

“Weeks?” The woman shrieked in horror. “What about my family and friends and the police —“

“I took care of everything, sweetie. Don’t freak out. As far as society knows, there was just an avalanche that we barely escaped from. Your folks visited for a while. I picked up an online job, therapist, delivery services, the whole shabam. You don’t gotta worry anymore. You can look forward to a life of stability and luxury, just like I always promised.

“I hope you don’t mind,” the man muttered bashfully,” but I always told ya how much I wanted a ranch out in the Colorado countryside. My parents helped signed a lease for one with some investment money from my portfolio and such. Once you’r cup to it, though, we can find a place you’d like. Even abroad would be okay.”

R shook her head. “Josh, no. None of this… This isn’t okay. This can’t just be okay. You act like that night was just some bad night on the town. You tortured people, Josh —“

“I’d hardly have called those assholes people, R. Just chill out. Stop making this harder than it needs to be —“

“Just get the fuck away from me! Don’t touch me! Let me go! I don’t want to be here!”

The woman began thrashing, even kicking Josh’s bad side. The man flinched away, obsessive irritation clouding his vision. The man pulled open the bedside table as the woman scrambled to the other side of the bed. The catheters swung every which way, knocking into Josh’s head as the man scrambled through the drawer and pulled out a needle.

R clawed at the covered and almost collapsed onto the floor, but a hand harshly yanked on her ankle. She screamed and shrieked as the rug on the floor came with her, but the familiar stinging sensation stabbed into her wrist as she was yanked further onto bed.

Josh suddenly stopped away, hissing in pain as he rubbed his hip, watching gas the woman blinked into tranquility. The rug slid off the bed once more as R’s body twitched. She fought the neutrality that washed over her. She was still angry and afraid as Josh maneuvered her body into a more comfortable position before sitting beside her.

He shushed her pleasantly, all irritation having vanished. His fingers traced across her body as he laid beside her and held her closely and contently.

“Babe, you’ve got a lot of trauma to work through. I get it. But you’re misinterpreting it all. You’ve just gotta chill out. Life won’t be so hard anymore. I promise. I’ll take care of you. You’ve always worked so hard and been so nice and… god you’re just perfect. I love you, babe. You’re everything to me. I promise.”

[fingertipsmp3]

Why am I so deeply cursed

[eraserbread]

pregnancy hormones don't stand a chance around your husband, nanami ✧

→ needy pregnant f!reader, whipped nanami, sexually explicit content

"hope that books not more interesting than me," you whisper, propped against the open bedroom door, dressed in nothing but a lacey babydoll lingerie set. your four-month pregnant belly peeks through the lace delicately, and your features are on fire.

kento gives you a little peek. "was wondering what took you so long." he's replying, flicking his book to the next page. you're standing, pouting in his presence.

"hello? i'm horny."

"and you do look very tantalizing in that outfit."

"so come take it off."

he gives you another look, this time lowering the leather-bound book enough to see his face. you pose, crossing your knees and jutting out your hip. you can feel those dark hazels fall over your jutting breasts, then to your widening hips, and finally to your swollen, pregnant belly. his little girl's home.

so, he sits up straight, shoving his book to the side table and ushering you over. "come on, love."

"needy girl..." kento is whispering against the back of your shoulder, pressing kisses there and letting them linger. you're hovering over his lap in reverse cowgirl, tongue pushed from your lips as you focus on staying steady.

"let me have it." you slur, cunt milking obsecnely over his bare lap. he's got a thick fist tight around his erection, making sure you're stable and comfortable before he lets you take him.

"i want you to, but i don't want you to hurt yourself... how about I be on top?"

"—no." you insist, shaking your head violently. he won't let the grip he has on your thighs loose, so all you can taste is the bulbous tip of his familiar, blushing cock.

"why do you insist on being so bratty?"

"I don't want to bottom, baby slides up and into my ribcage and ugh.." you're shivering, and if it wasn't for the abnormal influx of hormones, you'd be turned off just thinking about the pain.

the baby kento pressed into you all those months ago, was an active little girl. she kicked the hell out of you whenever you slept on your back, leading to long nights with little sleep. kento knows this, so why he's telling you to just lie there and take it, is lost on you.

though he's stubborn at times, kento is largely well-trained by you, so he lets you take him like this. his grip starts to loosen, and you can finally feel the stagnancy of his cock start to peek through your sticky folds and into you.

filled to the brim with need, you shiver instantaneously. "oh, please, pleaseplease. all the way—mmgh!!"

he's chuckling behind you—actually breathing a stupid laugh from his nose at your blatancy. "you're shaking already?"

to answer him —you're cumming, and it's a release you've never felt before. his fingers are pressing into your belly, keeping you strong and at his mercy as you cream helplessly all over him. your thighs are shaking, eyes rolling back into your skull as you cry and whine.

it feels like every single one of your nerve endings is being fanned and flamed, driving you absolutely apeshit like you've never been touched a day in your life.

"oh, baby... love."

"sh-shut up."

"that feel good?"

"keep—just keep going." you're begging, drool dripping from your lips as his cock massages that sticky, spongy bunch of nerves at an angle only his cock could hit. he's circling his hips under you, tongue tracing licks across your neck.

your pretty lace panties are ripped and disregarded as the night goes on, and your teddy is busting at the seams, sticking to sweat and dipping off your shoulders. kento's big hand reaches to cradle your swollen breasts, growling in your ear as he fucks you just right... so perfectly and deep that you can feel the slick cervix kisses every time he bottoms out.

you're crazy, and fucked off of five orgasms that night.

thank god for pregnancy hormones—thank god for your husband and all his raw talent. sure, he'll bicker softly just to ignite your needy fires, then he'd give you what you want, exactly how you want, until you're sick with it.

what a thoughtful husband.

[intromortal]

ꕥ NICE N' FULL ⸝⸝⸝ six different scenarios in which the enhypen members breed the fuck out of you !

⚠︎ smut. mdni. breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, p in v, dirty talking, pet names, more warnings listed for each member. total wc 4k. ⸻ rules ⋆ m.list

✷ NIA — not exactly what bae @vampsol asked for bc i went a little au-ish here :p but it's me so what did we expect. shoutout to my goat @karinasbaby for sharing a braincell with me and helping me w the ideas <3

ꕥ LEE HEESEUNG

arranged marriage, it's okay they're starting to be obsessed with each other, slight somno, oral (f. rec), cum eating

If you were to tell anyone Heeseung didn't as much as look you in the eyes about two months ago, they'd never believe you. Not if the way he's clinging to your lower half before he even opens his eyes fully is anything to go by. Still naked in bed, the wet sheets clinging to your bodies the only thing shielding you from the cool dawn air.

Marriages of convenience are rarely easy, especially for spirits as free as Heeseung, and he's made it clear to you how much he'd rather have married anyone else instead. They also come with burdensome expectations of heirs way too soon for his liking. Yet, something about your devotion to him in your most intimate moments despite your general indifference and coldness towards each other, brought the cold and hard as steel man down to his knees, a puddle of mush at your feet ready to fulfill any request.

"Hee," you mutter softly against your pillow as he parts your legs to make space for himself, and Heeseung's heart soars. A month ago it would've been 'Heeseung' or 'husband' with that venomous tone you seemed to only reserve for him, like his spot in your life was only a joke. It's different now, you're tender with him.

"Shh, pretty. Just lay here for me like this." It's still early, and Heeseung can barely see, but he wants the first thing he looks at in the morning to be your pretty hole, raw and sore from all the previous fucking, still gush his seed out. He parts your folds slowly, careful not to hurt you, and watches as his milky cum greets him, pouring out of you. It's a sight for sore eyes, and one he knows he will never get enough of. Even when he'll manage to put a child in you, he knows this is something he won't be able to let go of.

You shift, now more aware of your surroundings, but Hee is quick to keep you still. Your hand underneath your stomach faintly tingles because of its weird position, but it all fades in the background when Heeseung grabs your ass and spreads it, moving lap at where his cum is gushing out of you.

You're still sensitive from the night you spent together, but his touch is feather light and you don't really know if you want him to stop or you want more. He moans at the mixture of your tastes, pushing his tongue deeper inside your cunt like he's trying to clean you, switching so soft kisses on your lips once he's satisfied.

He makes his way up to your face, littering your bottom and spine in kisses and playful nibbles, relishing in the little sounds you make in response. Your front is still pressed to the mattress, and not seeing him almost makes you believe this is not the Heeseung that was shooting you sharp glares throughout the entire wedding ceremony. His touch is warmer, so much more delicate than the way he held your end that first night. His kisses are slow and deliberate, not empty and forced anymore. It's like soul has find its way back into Heeseung's being, after months of being a cold slate. The change started out slowly, but now you're here, and you genuinely feel like you could really love this man. Maybe a part of you does already.

His voice is the same, but the tone makes him sound like a whole different person, the forever present irritation is gone, only a playful tilt to it left as he finally reaches your ear to whisper in it. "Slipped out while sleeping, all of our hard work gone… such a pity." Heeseung aligns his cock to your weeping cunt, rubbing his head a few times along your folds, then carefully pushes in. "We have to do it all over again."

He's gentle, showering you in soft praises, and his thrusts are even slower. You've never known anything other than fucking, but you think this is what lovemaking feels like.

"So good, baby. You'll be such a good mom, you've been so patient with me even when i didn't deserve it. You'll be wonderful," he whispers in your ear, raising goosebumps all over your skin at just how sweet he sounds. "You are wonderful. You're perfect."

ꕥ PARK JONGSEONG

husband!jay, semi-public, bulge kink, he's insatiable

What better way to spend your honeymoon trip if not by getting filled over and over again by your dear, newlywed husband?

You can't think of any, but maybe that's also because you can't really think about anything that's not the delicious drag of Jay's cock against your walls. So deep inside you, pushing more even when his balls are already flush to your skin. Like he can't get enough, like he could break any barrier and mold into you as one if he really put his mind to it. He needs more, you both do.

But one thing's for sure, he's giving you his all.

"So fucking good, my wife has the best pussy. So perfect for me," he pants hotly in your ear, his large warm hand cupping your breast and separating it from the frigid glass your front is pushed against. The view from your suite is breathtaking, emphasized by the huge transparent wall, right beside the queen sized bed. At the moment though, you're not really focused on it. Nor is Jay, too busy gawking at your beautiful figure caged between his chest and the glass. He could stare at you forever. "I'm gonna stuff you full, baby. Gonna fuck you so good all trip, there's no way you won't be pregnant by the end."

You believe it, because all he's done ever since you undid your luggage in the middle of the room once you arrived to your destination is pump you full of his cum, all day, all night. And then all over again. Only stopping to get you food. You aren't safe from him when showering, even worse when taking a bath, definitely not when you're lounging around the natural pool close to your suite. It's not his fault you look so good in the bathing suits you packed and the ones he picked out for you. Jay has always had good stamina, but ever since the wedding he's been downright feral.

His thrusts are slow, but intense, like he's trying to drag the pleasure out as long as he can, savoring the way his tip nudges just the right stop that has you mewling in his hold every single time. His breath is warm against your neck and so are his grunts of pleasure, your favorite sound in the whole world.

Jay twists your sensitive and sore nipples between his fingers, only smiling into your neck when you reward him with the cutest mewls he's ever heard in his life. "Fuck, baby. I'm the luckiest man alive. I can't believe you're mine forever."

"You too," you whine in response.

"Yes baby, I'm all yours, forever. I love you much."

"Love you too," you sob, throwing your head back into his shoulder, completely overtaken by the pleasure he's giving you, allowing him more access to lick and suck on your sensitive neck.

"I know, baby. I know. You're doing so good, just a little more. My sweet girl, you'll be such a good mom. Can't wait to make you one. We'll have so many, so many cute kids running around. Doesn't that sound like a dream? Fuck, I can't wait."

The hand still playing with your tits slides down to your stomach, pushing down on it until Jay can feel his own cock thrusting into you. "Right here, you're gonna carry our baby here." He keeps fucking into you slowly, deliberately, so different from the speed of the circles he draws on your clit with the fingers that were soothing your hip just moments before. He drags out his own pleasure, but needs to give you so much more. "Come on my cock baby, milk it dry. We have so much more work to do."

ꕥ SIM JAEYUN

fwb!jake but he has feelings, he's down bad and a little subby in this one, dub-con (for jake), slight blood play (just his lip)

This is a series of mistakes. It's all Jake seems to be doing as of lately.

First of all, he's not even supposed to be in your bed again, the fourth time this week. Not when he finally came to terms with the fact that he has developed a raging crush on you and cannot keep his feelings at bay any longer, even when you two agreed this whole arrangement will only be sex and nothing else.

But he can't help it when you're so fucking addicting. You not liking him back is gonna break his heart, but at least he gets to fuck you, at least he gets a little piece of you, even if it's not exactly the one he wants.

Secondly, he should've refused to fuck you raw for the first time the moment you asked, even if the thought alone had his eyes crossing and rolling all the way to the back of his skull. But he's a weak man, for you especially, and he simply couldn't resist the temptation, not when you looked up at him with your big glossy eyes and with such a cute pout on your lip.

So here he is now, fucking you raw like his life is on the line, trying his hardest not to spill inside you too soon because if he does he might just die from embarrassment.

All he does, all he's ever done, is with the purpose of impressing you. It's like you have him chained up to this invisible leash he didn't even notice you put on him, and now it's too late to take it off. Jake means it when he says he would do anything for you.

His thrusts are shallow and quick, he's fucking you mostly with his tip, and you don't think you've ever seen him so worked up. It makes you feel things you didn't even know you needed. You like the feeling.

"You're so cute like this, Jakey," you giggle into the messy open mouthed kiss he's drowning you in, your fingers ghosting on the muscles of his back while his tremble on your waist. "Fuck me deeper, I want to feel all of you."

Jake's hips still for a second as he bites down on his bottom lip so hard he draws blood, but you don't mind at all. You even lick it clean, sighing dreamily at the iron taste overtaking your senses. Jake's eyes screw shut, and he's so close to cumming his eyes start to water. This is simultaneously the best and worst thing that has ever happened to him, and thinking that this might very well be the last time only makes his eyes wetter.

"I—fuck. I can't. I'll cum too soon."

"That's okay, we can go again," you say it like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and a little piece of Jake's heart breaks. He doesn't know how much more of this he can take.

You sense his hesitation and wrap your legs around his hips, pushing them closer to your pelvis so his length fully sheaths inside you. It's so warm and big and throbbing to release his cum in you and there's not a single thing you want more. "Fill me up, Jakey. Claim me," you whisper in his ear. "Why don't you show everyone I belong to you?"

Jake resumes his movements, tentatively at first but steadily building a pace that feels good, his thrusts are deeper now, needier, and even if he were to try to pull out, you'd keep him right there. "I want to. I want you fully, fuck— please be mine," he sobs into the valley of your breasts, voice muffled as he licks and nips at your skin.

"Go on. Make me yours then. Show me how bad you want me."

And he does because fuck, he's weak. He's so fucking weak for you and he wouldn't have it any other way.

ꕥ PARK SUNGHOON

coworker!hoon, secret relationship, semi-public, degradation, jealousy, mentions of marriage

Something about the way Sunghoon's thick eyebrows were furrowed from the second he walked into the job that morning, or how his jaw clenched as he gritted his teeth whenever any of your colleagues as much as opened their mouths to say something, should've been your cue to behave for the day.

Unfortunately for everyone involved, he happens to look so damn hot when he's pissed.

And he's so filthy when he's jealous, pushing his buttons becomes your favorite challenge in times like these.

"Eyeing Jake all day like you want to bring him to the back and fuck him, are you not ashamed?" he spits, voice an octave lower than usual and barely slipping through his gritted teeth. "Bending over in front of him, touching him when you know I can see you. Do I have to mark you up for you to fucking behave for once?"

The roughness in his voice makes your eyes wet but your panties wetter, he doesn't bother to undress you, you don't have time for it anyway. You're just a few steps away from the lounge bar where some of your coworkers are surely taking a break right now. Anyone could walk in at any time, and maybe Sunghoon wishes for that to happen.

Instead Sunghoon just flips your skirt up and pushes your panties to the side, immediately rubbing his angry red tip on your folds to coat them in your own juices. He feels so incredibly hard against you, and that's how you know he must've been hiding a boner this entire time. As much as he loves to pretend he doesn't, it's little cues like this that let you know just how much he enjoys putting you back in your place. "Of course you're soaked." He barks a laugh devoid of humor but full of disdain.

"If it's my attention you want," he whispers more softly, and the switch in his attitude sends shivers down your spine, something that doesn't go unnoticed by Sunghoon, his lips curling into a smirk. "I'll give it to you. I'll give you so much of it you won't ever think about disrespecting me again."

He pushes his girth into you fully in one thrust, his rough fingers finding your clit within seconds, not even giving you enough time to savor the pleasurable sting that comes from his cock stretching you out so nicely. He grabs your jaw in his other hand, his smirk not turned into a snarl. "You'll cum, and you'll cum hard enough to milk all of me. You'll keep cumming around my cock no matter how much it hurts, until I fill you up. Is that clear?"

You would nod if you could, but his grip is too strong, so you do what you can: just stand there as he subjects you to anything his heart desires. He doesn't move his hips, doesn't give you that satisfaction, only rubs his fingers on your tiny bundle of nerves so hard it almost hurts, but you'd never ask him to stop it.

"You'll take all of my cum, until your belly is swollen by how much of it I fuck into you. I'll put a baby in you so no one else will ever mistake you for anything other than mine."

You clench around him, time and time again, just like he wants you to. Sunghoon has you under a spell, and the more he talks, the more he flicks your clit, the less you think about what's rational and what's not. You only know what he tells you, and to you that's the only truth you need to hear.

"I'll put a ring on your finger, make you my pretty little wife. Maybe even make you stop coming in, I'll take care of everything. Yeah, keep milking me like that, baby. Let me make you a mommy."

ꕥ KIM SUNOO

ewb, hate sex, degradation, marking, one singular 'slut', condom comes off!

"You're—mhh, such a bad fuck," you say over your shoulder, wanting to see Sunoo's reaction despite the uncomfortable position. You're lying through your teeth, of course. You know how much saying things like this riles Sunoo up, and the only times you feel anything akin to like towards him is when he's rough with you. It's why despite the mutual hatred that makes up the entirety of your relationship, you two keep finding yourselves skin to skin, tangled in bed sheets. You always thought you needed someone to fuck you like they hate you, turns out, what you really craved was someone to fuck you because they hate you. And the right man for the job is right behind you, thrusting into you like he wants to hurt you, his hands leaving bruises on your hips like it's their right to do so.

"Then why are you here, wetting my cock like no one's fucked you in years?" His moves are relentless, and you have to try your best to not collapse on the bed because of the sheer force behind every stroke. Your legs are shaking, but you hang on a thread just to not give him that satisfaction. Instead, you push him further.

"That guy from—mph, yesterday. He'd—" you gasp as he gives you a harsher thrust, so deep you're sure you can feel it in your guts. The angle he starts fucking you in knocks the air out of your lungs in the best way possible, and even if you're trembling under Sunoo's weight and clawing at the cotton fabric next to you, you refuse to back down. "He'd do a better job."

You don't need to see his face, you hear the smirk in his voice, and it's the kind that sends a shiver down your spine each time. "But you're here." Another sharp thrust. "You don't even remember his name."

"At least he las– lasted while fucking me raw." You feel him halt all movement, and you know this is enough to get what you want from him, but you just can't help it. "You could never."

"You're such a little fox, aren't you?" He speaks calmly, but you can feel the storm brewing under the facade. He drags his fingertips across your spine, barely touching you at all. It's embarrassing how that's enough to have you bend under his touch. He reaches the plush of your ass, grabbing a fistful of it so forcefully you can feel his nails break the skin. He doesn't stop when you complain, doesn't care for your pained moans. "You think you're so smart, but you're just a little slut. You want me to fuck you raw?"

You try to shake your head to deny it, but he knows better.

"Yes you do. Say it." His grip on your ass only gets stronger, and tears line your bottom lashes.

"I do," you whine, finally. "Please."

"Good." Sunoo releases the death grip on your skin, soothing over the red spot with his thumb lightly, like it's not him performing the action. The Sunoo you know has no time for care. "Then take the condom off of me."

Your head snaps back at his words, but he makes no sign of moving. So you do what he says, this once. You reach for this length, then carefully slide the rubber off of it. And right when he thinks you're finally behaving, you squeeze his cock so hard his hips stutter forward and you actually manage to steal a surprised yelp out of him.

Sunoo's reaction is immediate. He grabs both of your hands, uncaring for the way your elbows are uncomfortably bent, and brings your wrists together behind your back. He slides into you again in one swift motion, not giving you even a second to savor the feeling of his bare cock pushing into your heat for the first time. All of your nerves feel on fire, and as he sets a breakneck pace while keeping you down and unable to move.

"Do I have to fuck a baby into you for you to finally behave?" He gasps when you squeeze him in response to his words. "You'd like that yeah? You'd love for the man you hate to get you pregnant? Is that gonna make you shut the fuck up for once? Oh, I bet it will."

ꕥ YANG JUNGWON

fiancé!won, they're obsessed your honor, love on the floor

"You can't wait to get me pregnant, but what will you do when you won't be able to suck on my tits for months, mhh?" You giggle on Jungwon's lap, right in the middle of the empty room.

The new house still smells like new houses usually do, dry and woody, like the windows are never open. There's no furniture yet, but it doesn't stop your heart from pounding in your chest as you look around. Your home.

Jungwon's eyes never leave you though, and when you look back at him and find him smiling at you like you hold the world in your palm, you know you would be happy with every house, no matter the size or appearance, as long as he's the one you share it with.

"What makes you think that's gonna stop me?" Your fiance replies, shaking his head to move the bangs out of his eyes. "I'll even get something more out if it."

"Won!" you exclaim, hiding your face in your hands. Your heart melts a bit when you hear that familiar boyish giggle leave him, light as air, and for once in your life you feel like you've found the right spot in the world.

The warmth you feel spreads further as Jungwon starts caressing your bare thighs, until he's gripping your ass, using it as leverage to push you on his crotch.

You gasp at the feeling, and your hands find their rightful place on his broad shoulders so you can keep yourself steady as he starts to roll your hips against his.

"Won… we shouldn't—"

He shuts you up with a soft peck, resting his forehead against yours. "Why not? It's our place. We worked so hard for it, we should celebrate."

You bite your bottom lip as you think about it, but Won doesn't waste a minute and flips both of you over so you're caged between the floor and his chest. He nibbles on your ear, knowing better than anyone else how weak it makes you when he does that. "I'll make you feel so good, doll." It's like he's put a spell on you because you nod before he even manages to finish his sentence. "Just lay back and let me do all the work."

Your clothes are soon discarded everywhere around you, and your legs are wrapped around his hips as he fucks into you like he never has before. You're both a sweaty mess, panting in each other's mouths, exchanging spit any chance you get.

"Your pussy was made for me, doll. You're sucking me in so well." Jungwon moans against your lips, and you watch enamored as his eyes shut close and his eyebrows furrow, a droplet of sweat running down from his hairline. "Can't wait to take you on every surface of this house. Fuck— just leave it to me, baby. I have so many surprises for you."

"I'm so close, please," you whine, sliding a hand down his back to push his hips into you further. It makes Jungwon's pace faster, more desperate to give you exactly what you need.

"Let go, baby. Come all over my dick— yeah, just like that. You're taking me so fucking well. Such a perfect doll for me." His praise goes straight to your cunt, and you squeeze him impossibly hard as wakes of pleasure rack through your body.

"My perfect angel, you're gonna look so good swollen with our baby. Am gonna give you all of my cum, just a little more. We'll have so many kids running around the house we built. Our home forever," Jungwon babbles in your ear, and you're so fucked out you can even barely make out what he's telling you. You just know you need him to fuck you full, over and over.

His hips never stutter, despite how drenched and slippery everything is by now, a puddle of wetness pooling underneath you on the hard floor, getting bigger and bigger the more Jungwon fucks you, and you suspect the floor won't be the only surface you'll wet that day.

[xoxojisu]

dicksuki.

synopsis: seeking out comfort from unofficialbf!katsuki and he says something mean and it's your final straw. + katsuki can't stand seeing you cry.

notes: i will be exclusively referring to mean katsuki as dicksuki from now on

it has been a long, long day. you're running on maybe 3 or 4 hours of sleep, you're on your period, you've been buried under homework, and you're 2 seconds away from a nervous breakdown. so, you did what any girl would do and sought comfort from katsuki. you’re curled into his chest, warm and tired, tucked under the covers in his dorm bed. it’s late. the room’s quiet. and he just kissed your forehead like he always does. casual, gentle, thoughtless in the way it’s become second nature.

“i love when you do that,” you whisper, voice barely above the hum of his fan.

he hums low in his chest. “do what?”

“kiss my forehead,” you say, already sounding half-asleep. “it feels like you really love me when you do.”

his heart skips. it stutters, even. but he doesn’t show it. instead, he scoffs, because that’s what he does. dumbass defense mechanism kicking in without permission.

“maybe i don’t,” he mutters, a teasing edge in his voice. “maybe i just do it to shut you up.”

he smirks. like he thinks he’s being funny. like it’s nothing.

and for a second, he thinks you laugh. or maybe you’re just shifting under the blanket.

but then he feels you go still. not the relaxed kind. not the sleepy kind.

the kind of still that makes his stomach twist.

he glances down, still smirking, until he sees your face.

you’re staring at nothing, eyes wide and watery, lashes clumped from blinking too fast. lips trembling like you’re trying so hard to hold it in but you’re already losing the battle.

and it hits him like a truck.

“wait.”

his smile drops instantly.

“wait. shit. baby.”

it wasn't exactly what he said. sure, it was kind of hurtful, but it was more the accumulation of all of your stressors and he happened to be the final straw. don't crash out over this. it's ok. you don’t say anything. you don't trust yourself. you don’t move, either, lest some tears fall out with the motion. your chest rises with a shaky breath you try to swallow.

his whole body tenses. “fuck, i didn’t mean that. hey, no, no, c’mere. look at me.”

he’s cupping your face before you can turn away, thumb brushing your cheek, voice suddenly so soft.

“i was just messin’ with you,” he says, frantic now. “i didn’t mean it. of course i love you. fuck, of course i do.”

you blink up at him, eyes glassy. you're so vulnerable and emotional right now. honestly, you'd been sort of insecure about loving katsuki more than he loves you lately, and he confirmed all of your worst fears. after all, you were technically 'just friends.' just because he hangs out with you doesn't mean he loves you. “but you said-”

“i know what i said,” he cuts in quickly, guilt written all over him. “and it was stupid, okay? i was bein’ a dick like always and i swear i didn’t mean it. not even a little.”

your lip wobbles and he practically whines, pulling you against him and hiding his face in your hair.

“god, don’t cry. please don't cry. i’ll do anything, i’ll kiss your forehead a hundred times, just.. don’t think i don’t love you. and also stop cryin'. it's killin' me. i love you, sweets.”

you sniff against his collarbone, voice muffled. “you do?”

he leans back just enough to kiss you. your forehead, your temple, your hair. kiss, kiss, kiss.

“so fuckin' much.”

masterlist

[i-smoke-chapstick]

"Mmm. Keep cryin' darlin', makes you tighter." He grits out through his teeth. "You- hah, you like it, yeah?" He shakes his head at himself loosing his own composure. "Told you I'd fuck the god out of you. We ain't done yet."

Remmick huffs above you, claws digging into your throat, hips pistoning into yours. The half-smirk he wears has been dipping all night, sweat dampening his brow. He's been switching between babbling incoherently and mouthing off the whole night.

He watched you like he was starved. And maybe he was- but not for food. Not for blood. For the one thing your daddy always said was sacred. Private.

Daddy told you men like him were the devil. All they wanted- the sweet little preachers daughter. Remmick's fingers hook around the lace on your church dress. Cock pumping deliciously inside you. Your daddy was right. The devil was awfully pretty.

The devil was also awfully persistent. He'd want to consume you- not just your soul, but something deeper. From the root inside you. Not just your womanhood. Your love.

"Shit," He murmurs, pleased, struggling between breaths. "This what you wear to your...ah-...Sunday service? Thought good little girls covered up. You wore this for m-me, yeah?" He toys with the straps, before diving down to your neck. Licking. Sucking. Before biting gently.

When you squeal, he chuckles breathlessly, before groaning when you clench around him. He makes a noise that's borderline animalistic- and you briefly wonder if your daddy ever taught you if even the devil could lose his composure.

Effectively, he can. Because even as he presses you against the wall, caged, trapped like a flightless bird- all you have to do is reach up and tug on his hair. And he hisses in raw pleasure, body tensing up, fangs protruding so far he has to bare them so it doesn't hurt him.

"Fu-fuck-, lo-love you-" He stutters out, claws clenching tighter around the base of your throat.

But daddy never told you the devil would whisper those three little words. Daddy never told you he'd kiss you so gently you'd cry. Daddy never told you the devil would knock on your window every night, beggin' to be let in, just to recite Irish poems and prayers while you sleep in his arms.

"Say it- please darlin', say it back," He tries to demand, but it sounds more desperate than anything. He's close. He's so close, holding on tight. He's pleading with you. You feel the heat building up inside you. The way his fangs struggle against your pulse point, drool slipping down, holding back. Forcing his mouth to pucker into kisses instead of biting.

"I love you." You whisper. If this is how the devil loves, you think you'd rather burn forever then ever let him go.

And when you cum, it’s violent. Blinding. You scream his name- not God’s. And Remmick whispers yours all the same, pawing at you, eyebrows scrunched together as he finishes deep inside. He doesn't let go. He never let's go.

His voice his hoarse when he just barely pulls away to look you in the eye. His chest rises and falls with each heavy breath.

"Let me- let me stay like this- inside you, lovin’ you, bein’ yours- please. Just a little longer. Just a little longer, okay?” He strings together, giving you those eyes. His clawed finger lifting to your lip, tracing the contours, gaze flitting down to watch your mouth part as you speak.

When you give him the go ahead, nodding, body exasperated, he inhales with a shaky smile. He presses a light, chaste kiss to your temple, breathing you in.

You close your eyes, feel him throb sweetly inside you, and think maybe Heaven isn’t up above. Maybe it’s bloody, needy, and whispering your name in the dark.

[blitziwitchwrites]

DADDY WILL KISS (fuck!) IT ALL BETTER!

pairing: ex-best friend’s dad!sukuna x bitter!reader content tags/warnings: smut! minors dni, cheating (reader gets cheated on by her boyfriend), age gap- reader is in her early 20’s and sukuna is in his late 30’s/early 40’s, sukuna is uraume’s bio dad, uraume’s a shithead in this- oops, taboo, cunnilingus, overstimulation, praise, light degradation (just sukuna calling the reader brat and a history of him being an ass), female reader, piv sex, rough, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kiddos!), dilf!kuna, size kink/difference, huge cock, daddy use/daddy kink, choking, hair-pulling, thumb sucking/biting, light dumbification, sukuna gets fuckin pussydrunkkkkksummary: after you make a surprise visit to your boyfriend, hakari's, apartment, you catch him balls deep inside your best friend, uraume, and leave before they catch you. later on, you decide to confront uraume, only to end up disappointed when only sukuna is home, and uraume is still off, busy fucking your boyfriend. but it’s fine. uraume can have your boyfriend. you’ll just have to keep yourself busy getting stuffed by their dad instead!author’s note: i always see dilf!nanami with yuji and dilf!toji with megumi and this that and the other thing…  but how about dilf!sukuna with uraume? under-represented! so, as a thank you for so much love on my last sukuna work… instead of great dad sukuna, here’s a nice one shot of sukuna being a… well, not so great dad, kinda, haha. but hey! barely anything else matters (in fiction!!!) when there’s cock to be had, yeah? anyways, enjoy!!! word count: 4k words

here is part two!

—————

to say you were angry was an understatement. you were seething. you were pissed. your fists were shaking so violently as you slammed your car door shut and marched up to your ex-best friend’s front door, that it was a highly possibility the next thing you touch might cause a whole fucking earthquake from how strong the vibrations of your rage were. it was too much for you. it was too much to feel so suddenly. too much time wasted on a little boy who couldn’t appreciate you. too much time wasted on a nobody.

and to make matters worst? it was with your best friend.

you never thought uraume would betray you so deeply, much less with your boyfriend. the two of you had been through thick and thin together. friends since childhood.

well, until you stopped by your boyfriend’s apartment to drop off soup and medicine for him since he’d cancelled your date night because he was “sick”... only to see uraume’s car in the lot… and then hear your boyfriend balls-deep inside uraume, very clearly not sick like he’d claimed he was.

they didn’t know you saw them. you didn’t say a word. you just left. and cried. for hours. and then you’d decided to go to uraume’s house to question them. you were ten times hurt by their betrayal than your stupid boyfriend’s. boys came and went. weren’t friends supposed to be forever?

as you banged on the front door, your fist slamming over and over on the door like it’d been the one to fuck your boyfriend, your face was red. it was raining, dripping outside, causing your hoodie to drench and cling to your skin, your boots squishing slightly in the puddle at the front door of uraume’s house.

you didn’t expect uraume’s father, sukuna, to open the front door with a scowl on his face. tears were dripping down on your face at the point, and maybe to anyone else, it would’ve just looked like your face was wet from the rain, but ryomen sukuna wasn’t a fucking moron. he could tell right away. you were crying. you weren’t just crying, even. you were angry sobbing.

“why the fuck are you banging on my door, brat?” sukuna’s gruff voice came out, harsh and raspy, like you’d just woken him up from his sleep. his attire, a black wife-beater shirt that exposed his massive biceps and ink-stained skin, and a set of red and black plaid pajama pants with black socks padded over his big feet, supported your theory.

you were shaking. you’d never quite gotten along with uraume’s father. when the two of you were children, he was tolerable. he’d never gotten along with his wife, you noticed, well aware that he’d only accidentally knocked up the woman and wouldn’t even consider marrying her, until she finally left both him and uraume and never looked back. and then he was just worse. especially as you got older, constantly making comments about why you would wear the things you did and why you were so fucking loud and why you were always in his house… but he’d never ask you to leave. and when you even insinuated it? he’d always just shut up, grumble incoherent obscenities under his breath, before eventually just trudging back off to his room and leaving both you and uraume be. 

“i don’t have the energy to deal with your fucking attitude, sukuna. where is uraume?” you snapped, your entire body shaking now, your fast twisting in rage. a flash of lightning snapped across the sky, wind whipping your hair behind you, causing you to quickly brush your hair out of your face with an aggressive huff, the rain only pouring harder.

clearly, sukuna could tell by the expression on your face and the way you spoke, that you hadn’t been joking. instead of answering, sukuna just stepped to the side with a grunt, opening the door a little more. “just come in the fucking house before you get struck by lightning or swept away by the wind.” he grumbled.

without missing a beat, you stormed right into the house. sukuna watched you storm past without another word. he let out a low grumble as you went right up the stairs, making him huff in annoyance. “you’re tracking mud throughout my house, brat. take your shoes off.”

you stopped at the top of the stairs. you looked down, before you unlaced your boots. sukuna walked halfway up the stairs, furrowing his eyebrows as he watched you, before he finally spoke up. “i know you’re not expecting me to bring your fucking shoes at the door-”

“URAUME, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!” you didn’t even let sukuna finish, bringing your foot up, before you kicked in uraume’s bedroom door, caving it in and sending it flying right open, slamming against the wall next to it with a hard thud. you walked into uraume’s room, raising the boots like you were going to throw them right at uraume, but you paused after you turned the bedroom light on… uraume was gone.

and then you felt a gruff of confusion and annoyance behind you. sukuna leaned in the doorway behind you, arms crossed, before he reached up and calmly snatched your boots right out of your raised hand. he placed them in his hands, about to turn and bring your shoes downstairs (even though he said he wouldn’t), when he lowly grumbled, “uraume’s not home. they’ve been at a friend’s all day. why are you so pissed at them anyway? they steal your hairbrush or something?”

sukuna was not expecting you to suddenly fall to your knees, shaking, and release a loud, devastated, unbearably broken sob. sukuna paused in the hallway, turning back, looking at you when he heard the thud of your knees hitting the ground. he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, watching your head hang low as you cried, your tears dripping down your cheeks and off your face, onto your already soaked jeans. sukuna furrowed his eyebrows, pausing, before he lowered your shoes. he just sighed. he used his free hand to open the door a little more, looking down at you, furrowing his eyebrows.

he’d never ever seen you cry before, in all the years he knew you. he’d seen his kid cry. even as an adult. and you were always there. but he had never seen you cry. what the hell did his kid do?

“hey,” sukuna said after a moment, his voice slightly softening, not quite a bark but not moreso with sternness and concern. “what’s going on?”

after a moment, you bring your hand up. you sniffle, defeated, wiping your cheeks and your eyes with the hells of one of your hands as you let out a soft whimper, feeling nothing but defeated. the rage had left your system, now draining out of you, your heart shattered and in millions of pieces all over uraume’s floor. you sniffle, trying to collect yourself, before you push yourself up off the ground with a soft, weak grunt. “nothing.” you whisper, your face barely above a whisper. “i’m sorry.”

as you reach forward to take your boots from sukuna, so you can just leave and go home and cry, sukuna suddenly pulls his hand back, his eyebrows furrowed as he looks down at you. immediately, you look up at him, your fingers outstretched. you timidly pull your hand back, looking up at sukuna, your face softening as you feel a weak throb in your chest.

“you nearly punched my front door to bits, kicked my kid’s door in, and assaulted them with… these.” sukuna held up your heavy and worn black boots still dripping with mud and rainwater from the outdoors, looking at them and scrunching his face a bit, before looking down at you. “clearly, it’s not nothing. and i think you owe me an explanation because this is my house you just barged into and busted.” he said, before gesturing to uraume’s bedroom door, then down to you.

you looked back, looking at uraume’s bedroom door, which was now just barely hanging on by one of the hinges, before you looked back up at sukuna, and then down. “i’m sorry.” you murmur, the realization of your rage hitting you, before you reached up to grab your shoes. “i wasn’t thinking. i’ll leave now. and i’ll pay to fix uraume’s door.” you murmur, only for sukuna to hold the boots back up higher now, dangling them over your face. sukuna was much taller than you were, but then again, he was taller than everyone, staggering at over seven feet tall and beefy. uraume was taller than you, as well, but it was clear that they inherited their height from their normally-sized mother.

“i didn’t ask for an apology or reimbursement. i asked you what the hell is the matter with you.” sukuna insisted, furrowing his eyebrows. “you gonna answer me or not?”

you looked up at sukuna, lowering your hand down again, letting out a small, weak breath. you looked at him, at your shoes, back at uraume’s door, and then at the ground by your feet. “...i caught uraume fucking hakari.” you murmur weakly, your voice barely above your breath. 

sukuna’s eyebrows furrow, and he lowers your boots a bit, though he doesn’t release them or let you take them yet. “your little boyfriend?”

you nod your head weakly, staring down at your feet. sukuna falls silent. and so do you.

after a moment, sukuna lets out a small breath. “...you got any clothes in uraume’s drawers or anything?”

“no.” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “any of my belongings i have here, uraume can keep though. i don’t care anymore.”

“i was asking because you’re drenched in rain water and i don’t want you getting it all over my house.” sukuna comments back with a gruff huff, before he turns, keeping your boots in his grasp. “go take a shower. i’ll bring you a change of clothes. i’m ordering chinese.”

———

while you didn’t expect to end up in your soon-to-be ex best friend’s dad’s bed, empty chinese containers clattered n the ground, sheets tangled and in nothing but his oversized black t-shirt, your thighs spread and a much older man with his head between your thighs, devouring you between your legs like a pussydrunk beast…. you weren’t exactly unhappy about it.

you gasped, your back arching off the bed as sukuna pushed two of his fingers between your gaping, empty hole. your knees bucked, your heels digging into ryomen sukuna’s bare back, your thighs squeezing his head mercilessly as he shoved his thick fingers deep inside your walls, his tongue repeatedly lapping as your clit like a starved man. “stupid fucking boy.” he murmured into your overstimulated bud, sore from your repeated orgasms. you’d lost count at five, and that’d been a long while ago.

you let out a loud cry, your thighs shaking as you felt another orgasm crashing over you, our fluids squirting and splashing onto sukuna’s fingers as he pumped them in and out of you, your mind lost in a daze. “r-r-ryo-” you sobbed, your tears dripping down your face as sukuna’s fingers dug into your g-spot over and over again, finger-fucking you through your orgasm as he tongue licked up and down your pussy, sucking on your folds so he could devour every last bit of your flavoring. “ahhhh! can’t… can’t take anymore!” you sobbed out, your fingers digging at his disheveled pink hair, which you’d been tugging at for over an hour now. 

suddenly, after coming down from your orgasm, you felt your sore legs shift, your legs pushing up so your knees were now flat, your legs up, your ankles just barely brushing against sukuna’s broad shoulders as he looked down at you, his face soaked with your fluids. he leaned down, immediately crashing his lips into yours, one of his hands resting next to your head while the other kept your face, holding your cheek and cradling it as if it was the most precious thing in the world. his tongue swirled around your mouth as you parted your lips, granting him access, your body shaking as you eased your fingers in his hair, smoothly rubbing the nape of his neck, before he pulled away.

“been wanting this pussy for too long now.” sukuna murmured in your ear, before he began to kiss your neck, your jaw, your ear, biting, nibbling, tugging, pulling, kissing and licking, sucking on your skin like he was trying not to devour you whole. 

“r-r-really?” you panted, your voice trembling softly, your fingers shaking as you looked up at the ceiling, before you gasped as sukuna bucked his hips up into yours, his bulge hitting right against your hips, your soaked fluids and sukuna’s saliva on your pussy immediately wetting the fabric that was snug so tightly to sukuna’s throbbing cock.

sukuna nodded his head into your neck, rolling his hips forward, causing a needy whimper to escape your lips as your toes curled, your feet threatening to fold inward as you attempted to arch your back off the bed again from the pressure of him directly up against you. okay, so maybe you could take a little more- scratch that! you needed it.

“mhm. four summers ago.” he answered, panting, his own voice slurred from just how absolutely wrecked he was after devouring your cunt for almost two hours straight. “walking around my backyard in that string you called a swimsuit.” he grunted, rolling his hips up against your pussy again, causing you to gasp again with need. one of your hands moved down, fumbling to try and push his pajama pants down so he could just fuck you already, your fingers trembling and pushing at him to try and free him to no avail as he kept speaking. “and then you saw yuji fall in the deep end of the pool and you jumped right in and saved him.”

your eyes widened a bit, your heart thumping at the memory. it was clear as day. uraume had a big pool in their backyard, and their family would often host barbecues during the summer, sukuna’s side of the family stopping by to join them- you were always the only non-family member who was got invited, apart from yuji’s older brother choso’s girlfriend, Yuki, who was his wife at this point and so was now actually family. 

you and uraume had been by the pool, tanning in the beach chairs after eating, when you heard a sudden splash. nobody had even noticed it or had been paying attention, even the boy’s father- jin- who was always usually watching his son like a hawk. but you’d seen it. the little splash of sudden pink, and then watching it float down to the bottom of the deep-end, the little boy struggling. you were diving into the water and carrying him back up to the top moments later, dragging you both out of the pool and sitting on a beach chair as uraume rushed to grab towels and the rest of the family rushed over to the little boy who was shaking and crying and clinging to you like his life depended on it (and he’d clung to you ever since). 

“spent too many nights up thinking about how i wished it was my face stuffed into your chest instead of his,” sukuna grunted after a moment, before he reached down, lifting your (his) shirt up just rough to expose your heaving, bouncing breasts as he swatted your hand away from his pants, desperate to take his time with you. sukuna leaned down, pushing his face between your chest, letting your tits hug his face as he began to kiss down the valley of your breasts, before beginning to bite down into the plushy flesh, marking up your skin as he murmured into you, “i think i prefer doing it this way, though.”

you gasp, arching your back, whining as your pussy throbs, desperate for more of him, your legs shaking. “r-r-ryo! need you!” you cry out, moving your hands back to his hair, before feeling him reach down to his pajama pants and push them down, feeling the violent thwack! of his cock springing up, slapping your ass and overstimulated pussy, before hitting his stomach, some of his pre-cum splattering down onto you.

immediately, you look down, your eyes growing wide as you look at him, watching as his cock twitches and pulses, big enough to poke out above his own belly button, thick and hard and violently red, dripping with pre-cum and what you soon make out as cum, your cheeks turning red at the realization that he’d cum while eating you out, making sukuna chuckle as he grabbed your face with one hands, pinching your cheeks and redirecting your gaze up at him.

“see something you like?” sukuna chuckled, before pushing his thumb into your mouth as his hand cups and squishes your cheeks, his other hand pumping his cock a few times as he preps himself to stuff your needy cunt full of him. “you gonna be a good girl and take daddy’s cock, yeah?” he snickers down at you, watching as you weakly nod, your pussy throbbing at the word daddy, your stomach doing backflips as it becomes invaded by perverted butterflies. 

sukuna leans down, pressing his lips gently to your forehead, before he tilts your chin up, making you look him in the eyes and keeping your gaze up on him. “good girl. keep your eyes on daddy, okay? wanna see the look on your face when i fuck you stupid.” he murmurs, before watching as your eyes grow wide as he pushed the tip into you, your hips bucking up, a scream from the sting escaping your lips, muffled by sukuna’s thumb and his grip on your chin. “aw, i know, brat… daddy’s big, isn’t he? it’ll be okay. just suck on daddy’s thumb. bite down on it if you have to. daddy’s gonna go nice and slow for his needy little thing, okay?” he hummed down at you.

you weakly nod your head, the tears flooding out of our eyes and down your cheeks no longer a signal of pain and betrayal from your best friend and your boyfriend, but rather by the pain and pleasure of fucking your best friend’s sexy father and adjusting to such a big cock that was borderline inhuman. you whine, feeling as sukuna pushes a little more into you, stretching your walls open, and yet you can’t help but want to push and buck your hips up into him, desperate for him to fill you even more.

“keep your hips down and be patient, brat. you are going to take all of me, don’t worry.” sukuna grunts as he lets go of his cock, moving his hands to shove your hips down into the bed as he pushes himself deeper into you, causing you to see stars as he stretches your raw pussy open. you can feel his heartbeat with each throb, each curve of his pulsing veins, and every little drip of cum and pre-cum spilling into your pussy as he pushes himself into you, before finally he bottoms out, his head pressed snug against your deepest and most sensitive areas, before he ruts his hips, a sudden flooding feeling exploding inside of you as he cums the moment he bottoms out, a low groan erupting from his throat.

you gasp, sucking on his thumb as you feel how angrily and needily his cock pulses inside you as he fills you up, his fluids already dripping out of your bright red, straining hole. sukuna leans down, kissing your tears off your face, cooing down at you before he pulls his hips back slightly, only to push deeper into you. his hand swaps from your hips to your stomach, pressing down on your stomach- and the bulge he’s creating in it from his cock pushing so deeply into you- causing him to chuckle as he twists his hand just enough for his fingers to spread out across your swollen tummy and his thumb to press right up against your clit, rubbing circles on your needly bud as you suck harder on his thumb, biting down harshly on it when he starts to fuck himself into you, his thrusts growing meaner and more brutal as he speeds up his face, his bright red eyes growing wider and his pupils dilating as he pants slightly, chuckling to himself, his muscles sensing and squeezing and bulging from his arms and his hand as he loss himself in lust, staring down at where your bodies are so intimately intertwined.

“fuck, baby- such a filthy, tight fucking pussy you have for daddy,” he growls out, his hand 

holding your face tensing as he begins tp pummell his cock in and out of you, thrusting and slamming his hips against yours as your ankles manage to finally hook over his shoulders a bit, your feet turning so that they lock around the back of his neck and on the back of his head. “bastard’s a fucking idiot for missing out on this- fuck, you are squeezing me so tight, brat. this pretty pussy deserves so much better, baby… she doesn’t want a boy. no, she needs a man.” sukuna grumbles to himself, pushing himself deeper into you now, causing you to see stars as you cry and pant, sucking and biting on his thumb as your muffled moans and screams fill the room, your heart pounding as you feel your innards practically explode from how hard you cum on sukuna’s cock, your legs shaking as you sob, feeling him spill inside you again, pumping you full with yet another load of his thick, creamy cum.

as he pulls out of you, you pant, your head spinning from your intense orgasms, before you gasp, your body suddenly flipping as sukuna tosses you over so you’re laying flat on your stomach. one of his hands wraps around your throat from behind, squeezing onto you and restricting your air for a moment, making you see stars as you babble incoherently while he pushes back inside of you, his free hand snaking between your legs as he lifts you just enough for his second hand to return to its previous position, rubbing your clit with his thumb as his fingers and his palm take in just how deep inside of you he is while he brutally fucks up your guts with his insatiable cock.

“don’t give up on me yet, brat. i’m not even close to done with you.”

———

the next morning, the sun gently peeks into sukuna’s dark bedroom, his bedroom door just barely cracked open. sukuna’s bed is a mess, and you’re long out cold, covered in hickeys and bruises and handprints, your hair an untamed mess from sukuna tugging and pulling on it, your neck slathered in his marks, your entire unconscious body sore as sukuna spoons you from behind, clinging to you as the two of you sleep, tangled together after the night you spent together.

uraume, wearing far less markings than you with a tired face, drained and displeased from a night of unsatisfactory sex and then getting dumped since hakari can’t sneak around anymore and bought a ring for you and needed to be an honest man and settle down, walks up the stairs, pausing when they see their door hanging on barely by the hinges. they pause, walking past the bathroom, noticing clothes in the laundry hamper that are half-soaked and definitely belong to you, before uraume finally stops when they see your boots, coated in dried-mud, sitting right outside their father’s door…

uraume picks the boots up off the floor, huffing and grimacing, before they push open the rest of sukuna’s door, looking down at them, “dad, why are my best friend’s things there?! was she here last nig-”

uraume freezes, looking up as sukuna’s red eyes stare right in uraume’s own, your bare, sleeping body curled up into sukuna’s, still deep in a fucked-out sleep. sukuna just huffs, rolling his eyes, before he simply grumbles, “since you and her ex boyfriend are apparently so close, you can let hakari know not to worry. she’s in much better hands now.”

—————

masterlist! not proofread. please do not copy, steal, repost, and/or translate. copyright protected by blitziwitchwrites.

[dotpointping]

I think we all agree sex with Phainon would just be feral as hell. He is an awful combination of down bad and emotionally repressed. Give him an inch and he’ll go a mile. The moment you let him into your bed, you are NOT leaving until he’s filled you with his spend. But the best worst part is that every time you think he’s finished, he gets himself going again by watching all his cum leak out of your used hole.

“Just one more,” he tells his, ignoring your whines and pulling your hips back, “one more, I promise.”

Phainon is a liar. One more means one more hour. One more means one more day. He has more than enough stamina and if you so much as indicate you want to be fucked stupid… well, who is he to deny your wishes? That is what he lives for, no?

Against the wall, your personal bath, your dresser, even the balcony is not safe. Speaking of which, you’re starting to think Phainon gets off on doing it outside. One of his hands is always gagged around your mouth, hushing you and telling you you’re being too loud and to quiet down, unless you want to be caught. He says all this, all the while his other hand is ruthlessly pressed against your clit, rubbing small firm circles around your sensitive bud, ramming his hips against yours and angling himself against that soft, spongy spot deep inside that he knows makes your head feel light and stars dangle in your eyes.

Phainon is the type to pull strings and use everything in his power to clear his schedule if it means he can spend a whole day just fucking you. Whether or not you’re conscious for that entire session is entirely dependent on how well prepared you are for him. He’ll coo at you during sex, ask if you’re too tired and if you want to rest. It’s so condescending and he laughs when you nod yes, just to keep going like you aren’t about to pass out underneath him.

“Come on, love, I’m almost done… just keep it up, you’re doing so, so well for me…”

Phainon would go until he shoots blanks. You may think you’re safe by then, but you aren’t. He nestles his head around your legs, kissing your sensitive thighs and nipping the skin lightly, coaxing you down from your last high. It’s the first kiss to your overstimulated cunt that you realize what he intends to do. You can push him away all you like, but he intends to feast on you while he still can.

Mydei, on the other hand, I feel you have to coax into bed. You can drop all the hints in the world, trail your hand up and down his chest, tease the hem of his pants, tell him your dirtiest fucking desires for him and he’ll still tell you no (but you can best bet you’re the reason he starts praying to every god in Amphoreus. Cerces, bless him to keep sound of mind and withstand the urges of pouncing you. He is reason, he is reason, he is reason—) The only real effective way to get him to fuck you the first time is by inviting him to your room and then stripping yourself bare. Even then, you STILL have to talk him into it.

Mydei is a gentle lover. He’s aware of his size and stature and how easily he can hurt you. His hands have committed more atrocities than he can count. They have torn the heads of his enemies, crushed bone and flesh, and spilled blood countless times. He doesn’t want to hurt you. Goodness no. He’d never forgive himself if he did.

Hence why you have to sweet talk him, practically beg him have to have his way with you. You have to tell him you won’t be satisfied until you’re fucked within an inch of your life and your guts have been rearranged. Taunting also works. He may be afraid to hurt you, but above all else he can’t stand the idea of you being with anyone else. You are one of a few good things in his life and god forbid he fumbles this one.

“Fine. I guess I’ll just go find that Deliverer—”

There’s nothing more effective than that. Is it cheap? Yes. It is. But, it gets the job done.

In his hands, you’re going to be stretched and bent in ways you never thought possible. Poking a sleep lion is never a good idea, especially when you don’t have the energy to keep up with him. But, you’ve been teasing him for months on end, so it’s only fair he gets his fill of you.

Sex with Mydei can be quite slow, with three fingers stretching you wide and his tongue lapping your cunt. You have to cum at least three times before he even thinks about slipping his cock inside. If you aren’t delirious by then, then you’re absolutely gone when his cock sinks inside. We all know this man is packing, it’s a struggle no matter how well prepped you are. You’re creaming around him just from the stretch alone, and you have a moment of panic where you aren’t sure he’s going to fit. But, ever the attentive lover, he’ll hush your worries away and press soft circles against your clit, massage your breasts, pinch your sensitive nipples, distract you until he finally bottoms out.

“Please, please, please, Mydei…” you can whine, wrap your arms tight around him and pull him close, kiss him sloppy and messy until you’re reaching another high from him simply grinding into you.

He’s hypnotized, hooked on the feeling of you, taste of you, everything about you. He fulfills your every wish of being pummeled deep inside, massaging your walls with every thrust, the head of his cock pressed against the most sensitive spots, with your every breath becoming nothing more than short punched out gasps.

Unfortunately, however, while Phainon is more than eager to fuck his cum inside you, getting Mydei to cum inside is an entirely different matter. He’s so afraid of continuing his lineage in such unstable times, not to mention, he doesn’t want to burden you with his child. But, once you DO convince him that it’s fine, something in his head gets rewired and the idea of ‘gentle’ gets tossed out when he spills inside you for the first time and sees just how excited it makes you. He then has an existential crisis because now he can’t imagine sex any other way and he’s aching to do it again.

Sex with Phainon is easy because he wants to please you and fulfill every dirty dream he’s ever had of you.

Sex with Mydei is a mind game, where you have to ease him in at first, then assure him three-hundred different times that: yes, you want him and yes, you know what you are doing.

[devotedsweetheart]

caleb tying you tight to the bed after you attempted to run away while he was sleeping.... again. he woke up immediately when be heard the twisting of the room's doorknob, used to the sound after hearing it so often. he jumped right up from the bed and grabbed you by your wrist when you tried to sprint, his grip on you never relenting as he dragged you back to pin you down to the bed.

"you wanna fuckin' run away huh? you wanna scream and cry, tell me how terrible i am to you? bad. fucking. girl." he spat in your face, anger taking its hold on him.

he leaned over you hastily to grab the handcuffs he keeps in his nightstand (from past experiences of catching you) and jerks your hands to fit inside them, not even bothering to put a hand over your mouth to cover your protests. he cuffs them to the bed pole, sitting on your legs to keep you from kicking at him.

tugging at your pajama shorts & panties with mean hands, he barely gets them halfway down your thighs and he's already delivering a sharp slap to your clit; telling you that if you don't shut your 'pretty little mouth' he'll do it again, harder.

lifting off your legs, he yanks off his boxers and pushes your knees to your chin, staring at your glistening cunt before grinning and returning his gaze to you. "you like it when im mean to you, pips? d'you try and run from me on purpose, just so you can get caught?" he utters, a look of mock-sympathy etched into his features.

when you dont answer and continue your nonstop sobs, he sends another sharp smack to your cunt, causing you to jolt your hips and open your eyes to look at him. "i asked you a fucking question, answer me when i speak to you. do you hear me?" he asks, leaning down to whisper into your ear. you can feel his rock hard erection right on your core and it's making you go berserk, the lack of pressure on your clit is torture.

you nod, scared of what he might do if you don't respond. breaking the silence, you whisper back to him, "n-no.. i don't. im sorry, caleb, pleas-" but before you can finish your sentence, he brings one hand from your leg to your lips to cover the whole lower half of your face, shutting you up. the stretch of his cock filling you up so suddenly causes a scream to rip from your throat as you desperately try to pull your hands down from the restraints to push him off of you.

"don't start that shit with me, baby. i know you're not sorry, so don't even try to lie to me. shut up and take it like the good slut i know you can be." he whispers straight into your ear, biting down on the lobe after.

his thrusts are unapologetically deep and unforgiving. he makes no effort to control himself, letting out all the anger he feels into your poor little pussy. when you make an effort to hurt him by kicking your legs into his back, he simply brings himself up sloppily and slaps you with the hand previously covering your mouth; plugging your nose with it.

along with his hips, his face shows all the frustration thats built up over the times you've ran away. teeth bared, eyebrows scrunched, sweat dripping down his cheek. he's beautiful in his own fucked up way, at least thats what you think.

speaking of thinking, you can't quite form thoughts clearly as your vision begins to blur, dark spots showing up in the corners of your eyes. you're thrashing your body around violently, trying your hardest to get him to let up on you. he does nothing but grin an awfully evil grin, raising his voice to speak to you. "you gonna be a good girl if i let you breathe, huh? you gonna let me abuse this stupid fucking pussy, be my stupid whore?" you nod your head repeatedly as much as you can before he finally lets go of your face.

he laughs at you when you take big gulps of air, thrusts getting faster, sharper.

you can't help the way choked moans spill out of your throat. no matter how much you try to deny how bad you like your punishment, it really does just feel so so good when caleb is using you as his personal fleshlight. it feels even better when he shifts his hand to push on your lower stomach, feeling himself in there. your eyes roll to the back of your head, whimpers and incoherent sentences rolling off your tongue. it isnt long before his other free hand is grabbing you by the hair and yanking you to look directly at where your bodies meet, making an uncomfortable position where your shoulder blades are working overtime trying not to pop out of their sockets.

"keep your fucking eyes open and look at that greedy little thing of yours taking me so well, squeezing me so tight. you feel me in there? yeah? see that big bulge, baby?" he questions and you swear you're on the verge of cumming just from the dirty way he speaks to you.

you nod as much as you can with his hand restricting your movements and he lets go of you, throwing your head back into the pillows. he comes along with you, dropping just above your lips and caging your head in with his arms.

"you want my fucking babies inside you, huh? fill you up so good just so you wont leave me again. i bet you want that... knowing how absolutely filthy you are for me. nod your head, tell me you want it." he says into your open mouth, spitting in it while he's there. your eyes widen and you begin your protests immediately, shaking your head.

"awh, pipsqueak.. i don't care. maybe once my seed is inside you, you won't try to run away from me."

[xiaprint]

newlyweds | minors dni

his muscles ache something serious, caleb is convinced that he’s never exerted himself so much before this. since he was old enough to purchase his own gym membership, he’s been consistent in moving his body and hitting pr lifts at the gym. he’s an active guy and that stamina is something he built over the course of years yet he’s sweating. he’s busting a sweat the longer he goes, fucking you into the mattress like it’s his one sole purpose on this earth. sometimes he believes that it is.

he couldn’t help it. it was inevitable after watching you twirl in the big wedding dress that was prepared, after sliding that ring down your knuckle. dreams always felt so unattainable to caleb because he had a tendency to go big or go home. it was that ambition that helped him pass aviation school with flying colors. still, he never thought it would get him to where he was at now.

nothing melted his brain quite like this. from the day his mind strayed from innocence and developed into something greater, from the moment he felt that nauseating feeling of love and desire— this is what he wanted. you were the picture of beauty without trying, his fantasy wrapped in pure white and lace and diamonds.

the echoing replay of your voice accepting his vow, responding to his deepest wishes is what made him cum the first round. it was embarrassingly fast, only a few minutes after he managed to get you onto the bed with your back sinking in the plaid duvet. he got a few good thrusts in before he hastily pulled out, painting your lower tummy in his seed after hurriedly pushing the fabric of your dress up to your ribs. surely not his proudest moment but he knew you’d cut him the slack.

second time around wasn’t all that impressive either, cock somehow still so hard and red. blaming it on how overwhelmed he was with the meaningful day was the safest bet. he fucked you slow, using every muscle he’s spent his free time fine tuning to give you what he’s always wanted you to feel. spilling his love into you, pumping you snug and full.

“caleb,” you breathe his name, barely audible yet he’d always catch it. he came when you called, it was a sixth sense to him that he unlocked when you were just kids and needed more help than you’d care to admit. it was his favorite sound and he lifts his head up not even a second later to catch sight of your beautiful eyes. “we can take a break, don’t hurt yourself.”

god, he almost scoffed right in your face. this was his confession to you even if he had already poured his guts out time and time again. this was his true seal of love, passion, lust. he was doing what a good husband should by taking care of his lady and putting her to sleep on her happiest day. he was making you feel special and the thought of tapping out just because he was breaking a little bit of a sweat? ridiculous.

“i’m making love to you,” he whispers with a simple, weak shake of his head. that familiar red hue blooms along the tips of his ears, coats his neck and shoulders. he’s bare aside from his signature chain, now paired with his wedding band. he finds your hand, hovered over you, watching with hazy purple eyes as a drop of his sweat lands on your collarbone. he kept you in your wedding dress and veil, wanted to savor the sight some more.

“let me make love to my wife, huh? doing what i said i would. you need to feel how much i love you.”

it was to be expected. caleb was headstrong, went hard for the things he cared about. there was no sense in arguing against him when he got like this, even if he’s panting hot along the curve of your neck and even if his hips are stuttering with every sloppy thrust.

the bed set below was a goner— beyond repair with all of the cum and juice smeared on it from the various positions caleb squeezed you into. it was raw and real, the kind of sex that made your eyes roll into the back of your head and toes curl up so hard that they nearly cramp. springs creak with how deep he hauls his hips into you, groans freely leaving his swollen lips because he’s taking what he’s wanted all of his life.

“get to do this to you every single night,” he finds your ear, planting a gentle kiss to your lobe as his tip probes your cervix. it almost hurts but your legs wrap around him nonetheless, heeled shoe digging into his lower back. “i get to make you cry like this for the rest of my life. you’re mine to kiss and hold and fuck forever.”

the walls of the room feel as though they’re closing in with every word, the realization that he is officially bound to you making you cum another round. white cream coats his dick and he lets out a hiss at how visible your approval is, how your body is talking back to him and letting him see for himself just how happy you are.

“yeah, me too, honey,” his lips plant gentle kisses along your jaw to your chin, sweet and soft the same way it has been and always will be. “don’t gotta say a word, just breathe. i know. i’m happy too.”

[fandomfuntimem]

Dp x dc prompt

Redhood didn't like people who took advantage of children. Fucking hated them.

So when he heard of a new crime lord employing children in there area, he had to put a bullet between that fucker's eyes. Apperently, the guy ran the original gang out of town and set the kids off on petty crime. Stealing money. Food, clothes, in some cases, even drugs.

Redhood stood outside an abandoned building, gun at the ready. There was no security, no goons. Did this guy know he was coming? Is this a trap? Redhood shook off his worries. No matter. He's just gotta get this bastard before it could get any worse.

He crept through raftors and boxes. He listened for footsteps. Step step step. The footsteps were heavy and dragging, sluggish. According to eye witnesses, the crime lord tended to drag his feet, maybe limp even.

Redhood slid out of hiding, pressed his gun up to the back of the man's head, and-

It was a kid. The kid turned around, so irely calm. His long black air hung down, obscuring his face, but Redhood could clearly see the way his pale sickly skin sank into his bones. How his dull blue eyes seamed to gloss over and stare into his soul. Almost daring him to pull the trigger. Yet, despite the dark of the warehouse, he almost seemed to glow.

"So?" He asked.

"Wha- so what?" Redhood asked. He was shaking. He hasn't put the gun down.

"Are you going to pull the trigger or not? I mean, you've got a clear shot. I just ask you to clean up after. The kids don't need to see that," The teen slowly blinked at him. Redhood slowly lowered the gun. Just a gang of kids run rampant, yeah. That's what this is.

The kid hummed and began to walk off. Redhood couldn't really call it walking or even limping. It looked more like dragging a nearly dead leg. Now that he was close, he could see it. The dragging leg, the dead arm in a sling. The lichtenberg scars crawled up his face, reaching his eye, blinded and half shut. How did this kid run a whole gang out of town?

Red Hood followed him. The kid only gave his a brief glance before shrugging. Redhood followed him to the back of the warehouse, where a group of kids slept. Redhood recognised them, street kids. All either homeless or too scared to go home.

"They helped me," the kid whispered, "I got rid of those people because I hated the way they hurt the people around them, and when I fell sick, those kids stepped up to help. The least I can do is give them a place to stay."

"You fell sick? You weren't always like this?"

"No. I used to be a lot stronger, braver," The kid gave a heavy sigh before slowly lowering himself to the ground. Crossing his legs and resting his head on his hand, "Now I can barely move without aching, I feel like an old man trapped in a teenager's body."

Redhood glanced between him and the sleeping kids. He was helping them, housing them. In return, they were stealing food and medicine for their sick friend, and Rehood almost shot him.

"My name is Danny, by the way," The kid- Danny grumbled.

Redhood sighed and sat down next to him, "Nice to meet you, Danny. I'm Redhood."

[metranart]

— HAWKS + DABI + BAKUGO + SHIGARAKI || THINGS THIS LOVESICK BOYS SAY WHEN IN BED WITH YOU

-----------HEADCANONS-----------

HAWKS

“Oh, my darling...fuck, keep doing that.” 

“You're so beautiful, I'm so glad we found each other.”

“I know I’m a mess-… what else was I supposed to do while waiting to make you mine?” 

“Lay back and let me do all the work. I’ve dreamed of eating your pretty pussy all week.”

“Hey, don’t shy away from me. C’mere-”

“You’re so fuckin’ soft. Shiiit…”

“Hey—no teasing the feathers.”

“I n-need to-... I just-…-I’m going to start moving now.”

“Arms around my neck and legs around my hips— ngh! Gravity is a bitch, I don’t want you falling on me, at least, not literally.”

“What a good mate, you respond to me so well."

“I’m so fuckin’ deep, my pretty girl-”

“Fuck—I can’t... I’m not gonna last-”

“Don’t be embarrassed. I love when you squirt on my face.”

“God I’ve wanted this for so long. I’m going to breed your pussy every day, all day long, even after I’ve knocked you up.”

“We're both getting older, babe, and if we want to have more chicks than stars in the sky, then we need to get started.”

“Tell me you love me-… tell me again.”

“I do get ahead of myself often, but I can’t help it. I just know we belong together-” 

“What do you say we try for a baby this time?”

"You’d be adorable, so swollen and full that you can't walk, that you'd have to rely on me for everything...”

“Touch yourself, c’mon. Let me see how you play the right notes.”

“You're going to be a wonderful mother for my chicks.”

“Let me help you move pretty, put your hands on mine.”

“No one’s gonna hear if I put my hand here… no biting, hun.”

“I’ll make it quick, darling... just—let me… let me go again.”

“Need a hand or a finger?”

“Just wait, baby... Fuuuuck—give me a damn minute.”

“Keep your eyes on me.”

“Arch your back, there you go, such a good girl.”

“Fuck, even after cumming you aren’t ready to accommodate my size. Don’t worry, baby,” he kisses your creased forehead, “—then just the tip this time.”

“Shit, I can’t help it—” you can feel him twitching excitedly inside you. “I just like you so damn much!” He grunts and snaps his hips again, diving deeper. 

“Just bear with me, I swear I’ll eat you for hours after…. Please, pretty, pleaseeeee…” He kept his pace, practically purring with his throaty groans. 

“No matter how much you didn’t want to admit it, I know how to fuck you well, ain’t I, beautiful?” 

“C’mon let me hear you, I can feel you getting tighter… my cock’s rubbing those hard-to-reach places…. Fuck! I- slid in so easily.”

“I’m painfully close-…. Fuck, I don’t want to cum yet…”

 “Is this your sweet spot I’m bullying?” 

“Each thrust is inching you closer… should I slow down or go faster?”

“Deeper? Okey-… just try to keep it together, I have neighbors.” 

“Give me one more. please, just one more baby.”

“Try to keep your eyes open, I know it’s hard…b-but try for me beautiful.”

“Go ahead and sleep, honey, I’m not going anywhere.”

NSFW ART OF THIS HEADCANONS IN MY PATREON

DABI

“What’d I did to deserve such a pretty thing like ya?”

“I’ve barely touch you. You really that hot for me, sweetheart?”

“Open your legs, not gonna say it again.”

“Doesn’t hurt, its already scarred skin.”

“If I have to kiss your tears away again, you are gonna get it— I’ve already told ya, it doesn’t hurt anymore-”

“Bury your hands in my hair, yes... Just like that.”

“Stop pushing me away. You’re gonna take it all, don’t make me shove it down your throat.”

“You love to play the feeble act, but your moans give you away, princess.”

“Nuh-uh, you haven’t cum yet.”

“I said ass up.”

“You want it so bad? beg.”

“Take them off before I rip them off of you, doll. Don’t try me.”

“Harder,” he mutters, not a minute after you started. “Harder,” he demands again.

“Could you go any slower? Ride me like you mean it, princess. I know you can.”

“Can barely feel that shit. You gotta do better than that, princess. You know I like it rough.”

“Fuck,” he bit out. “Yes, fuck…. Just like that.”

“Come on pretty girl. Ride me till you’re numb, yeah? Want you to fuck yourself stupid on my cock today.”

“Move my hands again and see what happens-”

“Fuck—” 

“Sorry, baby-… I just had to jump at the opportunity to sink my cock deeper.”

“Sit on it.”

“Worried it won’t fit? We always make it work just fine—”

“I don’t have condoms, they’re annoying.” He grunts the reply, inwardly absorbed with impatience. 

“Don’t move—Just gimme a minute… F-Fuck…”

“You fuckin’ genius, dammit, I love you so damn much! Not even I knew that spot— …” He shakes his head, in disbelief of the pleasure, even more so that you been the one to give it to him.

“Did you do that on purpose, princess? ‘cause now we are doing it every time.” 

“Fuck that. Don’t know if you heard sweetheart, but you were made for me to fuck and breed.”

“Stop it, no more whining—I’ll do my best to be…. gentler.” 

“Really? resist me all you want. I know you love being treated like this.”

“Ridiculous, I could stare at your pretty cunt all day long.” 

“Fuck Yeah! I adore the way your thighs tremble like jelly after you cum.”

“Should I pull out? Nah, better give me a daughter to spoil.”

“Unless you were playing with yourself before I got here, I’m guessing this is because of my pretty face?”

“Over my knee, now.”

“Sure, I love ya— but you are not in charge here, princess. Fuckin’ spread them for me.”

“Want me to spank that pussy? lay on my lap then-”

“One’s never enough, I know my princess’s pussy and its begging for another.”

NSFW ART OF THIS HEADCANONS IN MY PATREON

BAKUGO (NSFW art teaser here!)

“Do you want me to fuck you harder, cutie?”

“You can be loud, I love to hear you, (Y/N).”

“I’ve waited so long for this...”

“That’s it... slow and easy—” 

“How much longer you gonna make me wait, baby?”

“You ever take it raw? Get a big load of cum in your pussy? —don’t shy on me, I know you love when I talk dirty to you.”

“Take it off before I tear it off.”

“Baby... please...I hate to beg-”

“Make me wait much longer and I’ll have to fuck you in an alley somewhere.”

“What a naughty little girl I have just to myself.”

“Ugh, so hot and wet.” 

“I said I wanted to eat your pussy, didn’t I? Just sit back and enjoy it, baby girl.”

“I’d hate to stop teasing you right before the fun part.”

“It’s so warm...”

“Who do you belong to?” 

 “Whose pussy is this? Say who you belong to.”

“God, what a good fucking cunt. It keeps clenching on my cock like it’s hungry for more milk. You want that? You want me to fill you up?”

“As you wish, princess.”

“You gonna cum?” 

“Go on, gorgeous. Cum on Daddy’s cock.”

“Fucking take it... take every drop...” 

“Nice and stuffed... all mine... my little slutty girl...”

“I said spread those fuckin’ folds.”

“So wet and tight, but my cock just slides right in. It’s like you were born to take me inside of your cunt.”

“Aren’t you a sight. All blissed out when we aren’t even done.”

“That’s right, darlin’. You didn’t think you could tease me for so long and get away with just one little fuck, did you?”

“Oh, did you think we were finished?”

“Did I stutter or somethin’?”

“Alright, baby girl, you asked for it. Just don’t come crying to me if you can’t move after I’m done with you.”

“Don’t move—Just a sec… F-Fuck…”

“No, this is-this is fine. This is beyond fine. Keep doing it, please.”

“Shit, darling, don’t-” 

“God, you make me so needy. Please.... fuck, please...”

“You feel so wonderful, I might go crazy—"

“More... please, more...”

“Fuck, I’m stretching you so good.”

“God, the thought of you ever doing something like this to anyone else... I can’t stand it.”

“I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again. You’re my precious BABY, now and forever."

NSFW ART OF THIS HEADCANONS IN MY PATREON

SHIGARAKI

“It isn’t even a ‘might’. I can tell you right now with the utmost certainty that you are MINE.”

“Keep looking into my eyes, don’t you fuckin’ look away…”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head,” He coos in a demeaning tone. “I’ll be your first and your last. Not any of these other NPCs.”

“I can hardly keep my hands to myself, your room or mine.”

“I can do whatever I want to you, I’m player one!”

“I know, I’m keeping track of my digits, don’t worry your pretty head.”

“You are too precious to me to turn to dust, my love.”

“I can’t- I’m dying to breed you, to bury my cock in your wet pussy. Don’t move, I don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart.”

“My pants are uncomfortably tight, the fabric’s straining against my throbbing dick, I told you not to put on that dress, dammit” Shigaraki’s practically scratching at the wooden table, surges of arousal shaking him to his core. “Can we go now? Like right NOW?!”

“MY girl, so pretty and needy for my cock.”

“You want him dead. You got it.” Ruby eyes stare through his bangs up at your face in some sort of silent promise. “—Of course, I will. You are my everything.”

“It hurts. I need you to- FUCK, just like that.”

“Fuck, how-how are you this fucking wet and warm inside, fuck, fuck…!”

“Please fuck me.”

“H-hey, I know a fun game we can play together… It’s called ‘how many times can I make you cum all over my cock?’” 

“One point, five points, ten points—Cumming again? Are you shooting for a new high-score, sweetheart?”

“Now... care if I use my mouth on you?”

“Just be good for me, and I’ll take very, very good care of you.”

"Look at you, so worked up over a few couple of fingers, did you miss me that much, sweetheart?" 

“Just looking at you is enough to, oh fuck, drive me wild.”

"So desperate for my cock to stuff you-say it, say you want my cock—ngh!”

"S-Shit,"

"Needy girl, I'll let you have it, be fucking grateful." 

"What? Fainting on me already?"

"Don't let me see you doing this again, or else."

“Just fuck me. I need you, (Y/N), please. Please just fuck bury on me already...! I want it...! I want YOU..!”

“Have it your way then.”

"Keep licking my balls, oh fuck! I’m gonna die—"

"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-!"

“You look so pretty choking on my cock.”

“Where do you want it, baby? Mouth, breast, face, pussy… take your pick-”

"Are you close, sweetie?" 

“My feisty little girl. Aren’t you just adorable?”

"Good girl. Give me a minute and I’ll clean up that mess you made." 

“Cum for me. Cum on my cock and show me that you’re mine.”

“I just... wanted to cuddle a little more, is all. Didn’t want to... you know, waste the moment.”

“Don’t you worry, my love. I’ll be sure to give you anything you could ever want and more.” 

“You don’t have to take me all the way into your esophagus, but I expect you to make me cum, and yes, I do want you to swallow.”

“Go on, get on your knees.”

“Ngh, that’s it, keep going...”

“You look so wonderful like this, with your lips wrapped around my cock. I wish I could take a pic for Dabi to swallow his words.” 

“I want you all to myself.”

“H-here it comes...Be sure... to drink... every.. last... drop...YOU ARE FUCKIN’ MINE!!”

I MADE SOME SICK NSFW ART FOR THIS HEADCANONS, YOU CAN CHECK THEM OUT IN MY PATREON. (Along with more MHA nsfw artwork)