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luxaofhesperides · 6 months

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Accidental Bride Sacrifice ; requested by @starlightcat04!

Danny has long since gotten used to the feel of summonings. They don’t happen often, but sometimes the right components are put together to force him into answering, and he’d have to go as the new Ghost King.

Which no one told him was a thing! He hadn’t protested too much about the whole Ghost King deal when they finally told him about it after he graduated high school. It gave him a good excuse to ditch life in the living realm and not worry about college or a career, and let him really embrace his ghost side.

The summonings are a problem, though. They always feel staticky and bad, like a dumpster that just got struck by lightning. The taste of iron on his tongue, a clear sign of blood being spilled, lets him know that it would be one of end the world for us summonings, because some people can’t put in the effort to do it themselves, apparently.

But this time, the summoning feels different.

Danny pauses, eyes going unfocused in the middle of his conversation with Jazz. He had been looking forward to spending the week with her, now that she’s on winter break, but his luck is as bad as always.

“I’m being summoned,” he tells her, cutting off her rant about a transphobic professor she had.

“Oh, no. Do you need me to do anything? Should I go with you to beat up whoever it is that’s summoning you?”

Danny tilts his head to the side, considering. The taste of blood is noticeably absent. In fact, this summoning pull doesn’t make him feel sick at all. It makes him feel warm, as if he’s just been wrapped in a hug.

“No,” he says. “I think I’m good. This one feels different.”

“A good different?” Jazz asks, worry clear in her voice.

“Yeah. A good different. I’ll come back soon, okay?”

“Alright. Be careful, Danny.” Jazz pulls him into a quick hug, then steps back to watch as Danny stops fighting the pull of the summoning and disappears into a swirling white rings that flashes into existence behind him, blinding her for a moment, and is gone when she manages to blink the spots out of her vision.

For a minute, Danny drifts in a void of stillness, traveling through the realms as the summoning draws him closer to the correct realm. And then he’s rising out of the ground in a dark building made of concrete, candles of green flame scattered all over the place.

“Great One!” someone in a hooded cloak cries, raising his arms in jubilation. “Our calls have been answered!”

“I’ll fucking kill you!” a mechanical voice yells from farther back. When Danny looks past the cultists’ heads, he spots a man in a red hood and leather jacket chained to a pole, along with a bunch of other people in strange costumes tied up, desperately trying to free themselves.

“Silence!” The leader of the cult, or who Danny assumes is the leader, snaps at the hooded man and gestures to the people off to his left. They force another costumed person forward, this one in yellow armor. He can see the blood running down their face from beneath their helmet and from their nose, dark lines of blood cutting through their brown skin.

The cultists throw the armored person forward, forcing them to kneel. Then they bow to Danny and step back.

“Great One,” the leader says, voice unpleasantly reverent and grating, “Welcome to the mortal realms. We offer you this sacrifice to feed your strength. He will make a fine general for your undead army in your crusade to rid this world of its filth.”

The people in the back begin shouting all together, panicked voices overlapping, and Danny is left staring down at the cultists in shock.

The summoning had felt so nice. What the hell was this? He did not sign up for another ‘end of days’ insane cult. He just wanted to be hugged.

His silence makes the cultists nervous. They begin to shift uneasily, whispering to each other, and the leader clears his throat, then pulls a large crystal dagger out of his cloak. “We shall prove our devotion to you through an offering of a hero’s blood!”

And then he moves towards the sacrifice and Danny snaps out of his shock to yell, “Wait!”

The entire room freezes. Even the costumed people in the back go still.

Danny winces, then tries to smother his power, make himself more palatable to the humans of this dimension. “Wait,” he says again, and he sounds closer to human now. If he could, he would drop his ghost form entirely, but he knows better than to endanger himself like that. “What, exactly, did you summon me here for?”

The cult leader stares at him for a moment. “To… To rid the world of filth and allow your loyal followers to spread word of your power. You will be worshiped again, Great One, and serve as a reminder to man that Death shall always prevail.”

“Okay, I get that, but I was talking more along the lines of the summoning. What ritual did you use? What specifically were the summoning requirements?”

Normally, he’d be able to figure it out himself, but these cultists didn’t use a summoning circle. So they did something else, something less visible and therefore harder to figure out, in order to bring him here.

A woman standing off to the side speaks up, stepping forward hesitantly. “I had pieced together a few summoning spells from this book to bring you here. You had to accept our chosen sacrifice to your side in order for the summoning to work.”

“Hold up that book for me, please?”

She does, and Danny flies down to grab it from her hands. “Point out which lines you used,” he says, already reading a few of the words written down. It’s definitely ghostspeak written down, which should be near impossible for living humans to translate without being skilled in magic.

“Ah, these ones.” She points to each line, reading them out for him, and Danny starts understand what, exactly, went wrong.

“Is there a problem, Great One?”

Danny returns the book then floats over to the sacrifice and picks him up. The costumed people make alarmed noises, but quietly quiet down again when all Danny does is move him away from the cultists.

“Okay,” he says, “So. The lines you used to summon me were not translated properly. What you interpreted as ‘accepted to stay by the king’s side in loyalty and strength’ is not meant to be, like, him being part of my undead army or whatever. It’s a royal marriage vow.”

“They married us?” the sacrifice shouts, disbelieving. The cult leader buries his face in his hands and sighs.

“My deepest apologies, Great One. We meant no offense. We simply wanted to aid in your destruction of this depraved world.”

Danny scrunches his nose and shakes his head. “Yeah, that’s not gonna fly with me. I do not do the biding of random people, especially those who are ready to murder innocent people for no reason. Frighty, if you would.” He snaps his fingers, calling up Fright Knight who always enjoys getting to torment the people who summon Danny for murderous reasons.

Fright Knight appears in a swirl of darkness and screams. Shadows swallow the room, and when they recede, no cultists remain.

“Thanks, Frighty. Have fun with them. I need to figure out all… this.”

Fright Knight bows to him, then disappears. Danny lets out a breath, then floats down lower to be eye level with the sacrifice. “Hey,” he says gently, with a smile, “I’m so sorry they did this to you. I’m Danny. What’s your name?”

“Du— Uh, Signal,” the sacrifice says, sounding rather dazed.

“Signal,” Danny repeats. “Like… a traffic signal?”

“No. I mean, maybe? But it is Signal. That’s my hero name, not my real name.”

“Oh, you’re a hero!” His getup makes more sense now. Danny checks him over for any signs of injuries. So far, only his head and nose seem to be injured, but his wrists are tightly bound behind his back. Carefully, Danny calls upon his ice and shapes it into a sharp knife, then cuts through the zipties.

He helps Signal up to his feet, floating by his shoulder. “All good?”

“Yeah, man, all good. Let me just get the others free.”

“Oh, I can do it!” Danny flies over to the other costumed people, who must also be heroes. All it takes is one link in the chain being frozen and broken for the entire thing to go lax, allowing them to free themselves. Hooded guy spares Danny a single glance, then hurries over to Signal to check on him. The other three, a man with a blue bird across his chest, a blond girl with a yellow bat outline on her chest, and a guy with bandoliers and a golden bird emblem, all watch him warily as he floats back towards the center of the room.

“So,” the blue bird man says, “If they summoned you with a marriage vow, and you accepted, does that mean you’re planning to steal Signal away from us?” He’s smiling, but it’s not a nice smile.

“No! I had no idea they did this! I am so sorry you all got caught up in this. You most of all, Signal.”

Signal shrugs, nudging hood guy away from him. “Nah, man, it’s all good. This is definitely the better outcome.”

“I don’t know, being married off isn’t really a good thing.”

“Hey, at least they married me off to a decent guy.”

“You don’t know that,” Danny says, “What if I’m secretly evil?”

“If you were secretly evil, you’d be destroying the world right now. I think you’re fine.”

The blond girl waves at him, demanding his attention. “Quick question! They were calling you ‘Great One’. Are you a god or something?”

“Not really? I’m the Ghost King. So I’m a ghost who rules over other ghosts and also a majority of the Infinite Realms.”

She nods as if this is all totally normal for her, then shoots Signal a grin. “Congrats on bagging a king! Not the worst way to spend a night, right?”

“Can you break the marriage?” blue bird man asks, the lines of his shoulders tense.

Danny awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, not looking any of them in the eye. “I honestly don’t know. I can look for a way! But I genuinely have no clue. This was unexpected.”

“But you accepted.”

“I didn’t know what I expected! It just felt like a hug, and I wanted a hug! I thought I was being summoned for something nice for once!” Danny curls up, bringing his knees up to his chest, and hides his pout behind his hands. He knows he’s being childish, but he can’t help but be upset that he couldn’t have this one good experience from being Ghost King.

It’s always responsibilities and death cult summonings and fighting ghosts who don’t think he should be king. Sure there have been some good things, but they’re comparatively few when looking at all the other stress and pain that comes with the crown. Sue him for wanting to have a nice night for once. Hell, at this point, he’d take being summoned to help with some kid’s homework, because at least then he could have a quiet night helping someone.

“Hey, man, can you come down here?” Signal asks.

He wants to stay out of reach, hiding himself away for a bit longer, but Signal is his new, surprise, accidental husband, so Danny lowers himself to the ground and peeks through his fingers to look at him.

He tenses when Signal hugs him, soft and warm and comforting. It takes a moment for him to realize what’s going on, and then he’s melting into Signal’s embrace, dropping his hands to wrap them around Signal’s back.

Distantly, he can hear the other heroes talking quietly amongst themselves. He blocks out the sound as much as he can, determined to enjoy this hug while it lasts.

Which is… fairly long. Signal makes no moves to end the hug, so Danny closes his eyes to really savor the moment.

“So,” Signal murmurs into his ear, “As newlyweds, how about we get to know each other a bit better before we start working on fixing all this?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Let’s ditch these guys and take some time to ourselves.”

“I promise I’ll get this fixed,” he says, just to make sure Signal knows. “Genuinely, I am so sorry to have married you through an old Realms vow when you had no say in it.”

“Hey, if it lands me a very nice, very attractive king, then I don’t mind at all. I could have done without the murderous cultists, though.”

Danny huffs out a small laugh. “Oh, for sure. Thanks for being so cool about this. Want me to fly us out of here?”

“Yes please,” Signal says. Danny smiles and tightens his grip on Signal, then lifts them both up. “I’ll see y’all later! Have fun with the rest of your patrols!” he calls out to the other heroes, who start shouting at him.

Danny flies them right out the roof before the other heroes figure out a way to kick his ass. The city they’re in is smoggy and dark, tall buildings rising up into the cloudy sky, and police sirens ring through the air. There’s no where that looks like a particularly nice spot to land for a conversation, so he asks Signal where he’d like to go and follows his directions from there.

They end up phasing through a building, then into the floor, which leaves them in what Signal calls The Hatch.

Danny takes a quick moment to freak out over being in a hero’s secret hide out, the composes himself and finally pulls away from Signal.

“So,” he starts, looking around The Hatch and taking in the giant computer, the workstation, the motorcycle farther down the way, “What did you—Woah!” Danny spins around, slamming a hand over his eyes the instant he realizes that Signal is taking off his helmet, leaving his face bare.

It’s not like he’d know who Signal is anyways, being from a different dimension, but it’s the principle of the matter.

Signal laughs when he sees Danny’s attempt to keep from looking at him. A warm hand wraps around his wrist and gently pulls it away. “It’s okay, Danny, you can look,” he says. “It would be pretty weird if my own husband didn’t know my face.”

Slowly, giving Signal to change his mind, Danny opens his eyes. He moves his gaze up, going from Signal’s armor to his face, his very cute face and his warm brown eyes, and Danny stares for a moment.

“Hi,” he whispers.

“Hi,” Signal says, fondness coloring his voice. “My name’s Duke. Are all Ghost Kings as cute as you?”

“Duke,” Danny repeats. “Hi. Um, no. The last one really sucked, actually, which is why I fought him. He was so bad the Infinite Realms didn’t want him anymore, so though I technically didn’t beat him in single combat, it was enough for the Infinite Realms to kick him out and get me on the throne.”

“Man, I can not wait to hear more of your stories. Think we got time for that while we search for a way to undo that marriage vow?”

Taking his chance, Danny says, “Sure! It’s a date.”

He’s awarded by Duke’s bright smile and idly wonders how long he can keep them married. Hopefully long enough for them to get into a real relationship where he can propose properly. And then he can get Jazz’s blessing too—

“Oh shit,” Danny realizes.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“I need to tell my sister or she’s going to actually kill me.”

Duke winces. “And I should probably tell the others before Spoiler makes a mess of things… B is not going to be happy with me.”

They share a despairing look, already dreading the amount of scoldings they’re both going to get. He’s not looking forward to it.

“...Put it off until tomorrow?”

Duke nods. “Yeah. That’s a tomorrow problem. For now, how about a late dinner?”

“Sounds perfect.”

. . .

[send me a ghostlights prompt!]

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #dpxdc fanfic #dp x dc fic #prompt fill #my writing #dukes pov is just: u're abt to be sacrificed. u're mildly concussed. a cute guy glowing like the north star saved u and is now ur husband #he's had a night but all in all it ended pretty nicely!#they're gonna work together and just hang out while trying to undo the marriage summoning ritual and find they're super compatible #and then in a few years they'll be marrying each other for real :)#thanks for the prompt!!

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dolldefiler · 1 month

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[RIP, still need to catch up on sleep. The brain fog goes wild.]

C/W: Somno

I’d wait for you to fall asleep. I’d wait for the gentle, rhythmic sounds of your breath before lifting myself out of bed. I’d peel the duvet off you, revealing your lewd, little body. My pretty little cum dumpster. I’d begin by plastering kisses against your belly, travelling across your arms and legs. You’d sleep as I showered every inch of your body with my devoted love.

While gazing at your stunning face, I’d spread your legs and reveal that tight, pink slit of yours. I’d lean down and bury my tongue into your obscene cunt. I’d worship your pussy as if you were awake. As if you could feel the way my tongue flicks across your clit. I’d feel you shift and groan in your sleep, unaware of your own leaking fuckhole.

You’d be ready.

I’d have made you ready.

I’d plunge my cock in, relishing your wet, sloppy box. And then I’d fuck you hard and rough, as if you were awake. I’d grind my hips into yours and draw myself in and out of you. In. Out. In. Out. Suddenly, you’d awaken. God, the confusion flicking across your gorgeous face would make it worth it. The way your cunt would clench on mine would trigger me to jerk off inside you faster.

A lewd grin would creep across your face as you surrender your body to me. Your pretty hands would grip my forearms as I’d continue to drive into your nasty little cockholster. Shit, you’d even grind back, wouldn’t you? I’d use your cunt like a fleshlight, and you’d use my cock like a dildo. What a disgusting couple we’d make. You’d say something stupid about how I couldn’t even resist your sleeping pussy. How weak I was for not even trying to stop myself.

I’d reach out and pin you down by your neck. That smug smirk of yours would disappear. All I’d see would be the quiet, intense concentration of a three-holed sex toy that’s struggling not to cum. I’d tell you to open your mouth, and you’d obey, my violent pumps making your indecent tits jiggle. I’d spit inside before shoving my tongue into your mouth. I’d feel your hole tighten around me with every thrust, with every passing second we make out.

And then I’d cum. Your legs would wrap around me, keeping me in. Not that I’d ever want to leave the warm, wet confines of your cunt. I’d spray my cum into you, and would probably cum even more when I feel your cunt tighten at your own orgasm.

#somno breeding #somno fantasy #rough kink #degrading k1nk #bd/sm dom #roughfuck #rough daddy

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powerfultenderness · 10 months

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Savior

Summary: König drops everything to save you. Paring: König/F!Reader Rated: T+ Word count: 521 A/N: Neighbor!König. More fluff. Not part 2, just a little procrastination blurb. [More Neighbor König]

[Masterlist]

König acted on instinct. He only just got home, he hadn’t even had time to change, good thing he hadn’t stopped for take out. That high pitched, terrified, scream followed by a few loud thumps and more squeals echoed in his mind and heart as he rushed to your door. Before he could even reach the doorknob, the door flew open and you bumped into him with a quiet little grunt.

He grabbed your arms, steadying you in his hands, and shouted something at you in German. You didn’t bother asking him to translate, only squeaking out a meek, “help!”

He shoved you behind him, shielding you from danger as he quickly searched for whatever was out of place.

“In the bathroom!”

A combination of cold dread and hot rage ran through him. Someone tried to hurt you, while you were vulnerable. He would offer no mercy.

Was it the first breath he took since he heard your scream? He looked around the small bathroom…no one was there. “What?”

You popped up in the doorway and pointed at the wall. “There!”

He looked to where you were pointing and…started laughing, his entire body shaking with unnecessary adrenaline. A spider. Not even a big one. Just a common house spider.

“Don’t laugh! Get it!” You cried, still shaking.

“Shit, darling! I thought you were in danger!” He was still laughing, at this point he had to lean on the counter to keep himself upright.

“Just get it! Pleeeease!”

Like a splash of cold water, hearing you beg was sobering.

“Whatever you want.”

He raised his hand-

“Wait! Don’t kill it!”

He paused and looked at you, “what?”

“It didn’t do anything wrong but be where I don’t want it. It doesn’t deserve to die. Just get it out of here, please.”

König’s heart squeezed as he looked at the way you pleaded for the life of some little spider that you were scared of. His instincts were right. You needed him to protect you.

He scooped the spider into his hand and you jumped out of the way so he could carry it outside. And just because you asked, he actually took the thing outside.

You were waiting atop the stairs when he came back, looking a little sheepish but smiling at him like he was the light of your life, when in fact, it was the opposite. You were the light of his life.

“Thank you, König!”

And you hugged him, standing on the top of the stairs with him a few steps down, it was easy to wrap your arms around his neck. The fear that coursed through his veins when he thought you were in danger finally fading into your warm embrace. “You’re safe now.” He promised, as long as he was alive he’d keep you safe.

You caught movement out of the corner of your eye after you tossed your garbage in the dumpster. It was a spider. If you squinted, it might have been the same spider…

“Hey there, little guy!” You grinned as it scurried away, “excellent job, wingman!”

You weren’t at all scared of spiders.

#könig x reader #konig x reader #blurb #neighbor!könig

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notquitecanon · 3 months

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Call Me... // Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: You're the Devil of Hell's Kitchen's favorite late night nurse, but he's been avoiding your fire escape since an unfortunate accident. You both miss each other just enough for some emotions to slip through the cracks. You don't even know his name, but you'll settle just to know he's alright.

TW: blood, canon typical injuries, kind of hurt comfort, Matt's a self sabotaging martyr as usual, kinda sunshine!reader??? maybe if you squint

Bolded line is from a prompts list from several months ago so I lost the link. If it's yours let me know and I'll link it!

"I haven’t seen you in weeks… I’m worried you’re in another dumpster somewhere. Just call me back…please?" You whispered harshly into the phone’s receiver, burner cell jammed between your ear and shoulder as you fumbled with your keys.

It was true. The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen hadn’t graced your apartment in weeks after three months of near nightly visits. At first it was serious stuff, stab wounds and splinted bones. It took two weeks for him to crack a joke. But once that stone cold exterior cracked, it was shattered. He was kind, sweet even. Every few visits, he’d bring by supplies to replenish your kit and, usually, with a bottle of wine in the bag. Emergencies turned to what he called ‘urgencies’- wounds just barely deep enough to justify stitches and dislocated joints. Which then turned into stopping by at the end of his nights for a ‘check up’, where he took advantage of your central heating, warm beverages, and warmer presence. Then, some Yakuza jackass appeared on your doorstep three weeks ago, fortunately your devil hadn’t been far behind. He took care of him, and you figured the thug, now minus fifteen teeth, would have a hard time telling anyone where to find you. Nevertheless, you found the ‘available apartments’ section of the newspaper taped to your seventh floor window. That had been the last night ’the devil’ had paid you a visit.

"Anyways… I guess I'm asking for a sign of life? Something? Please? Bye." You pleaded, voice kinder this time as you managed to finally unlock the door and slip inside. Locking the knob, deadbolt, chain, and newly installed jam that had been mysteriously delivered not too long ago. With a huff, you discarded your keys, and bag in the entry way before delving deeper into your dark apartment, flicking lights on as you went.

"You really need to start locking your windows." A deep voice sounded as you rounded the corned into your living room. Heart jumping to your throat and stomach dropping, you let out a yelp as instinct took over. The familiarity of the voice didn’t register as adrenaline flooded your system.

"SHIT!" You shrieked, flinching backwards so fast that the hallway runner rug caught under your feet, sending you careening into the wall. Without thinking, you put the Yankee’s starting pitcher to shame as you pitched your phone at light speed towards the voice. Of course, the shadow effortlessly caught it.

"Shit!" The intruder mirrored at your fall, and it was then that you realized who it was. As you collected yourself a slew of curses slipped out, looking into the dim living room to find the Devil of Hell’s kitchen slowly rising off the couch, he was already sans black shirt and mask, "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you."

"Yeah, well, mission failed." You muttered, pressing a hand to your chest as if that would still your pounding heart. Slowly, you finished your shuffled into the living room, flicking on the overheads as you went. "Shit, you could have called. Sit back down."

You could have used the heads up, the gash across his chest looked serious, and not in the cute excuse to see each other way ’serious’ had meant last month. He breathed a sarcastic laugh, tossing your phone back to you before producing a shattered burner cell with a… bullet hole?

"You have a funny way of saving my skin when I least expect it." He tried a cheeky smile. You rolled your eyes, picking up your pace as you retrieved your first aid kit from under your kitchen sink, "Consider this a sign of life?"

"A sign of barely alive, more like." You answered, rounding back around the couch to sit across from him. Harshly pulling on a pair of rubber gloves and splaying out an array of supplies both his lap and yours. "You’re unbelievable. Almost a month of no contact and then you just appear and leak blood on my couch."

"I’m sorry." He breathed, face angled to where your knees now touched. You rolled your eyes, ripping into a packet of gauze and setting to work dabbing the blood. And he sounded sorry, pitiful even, looked it to. His unseeing eyes stared straight past you and yet somehow straight through you at the same time, mouth settled in a puppy like frown. He told you once that he was catholic, and you now wandered if that’s why he was so good at looking guilty.

"If it wasn’t for the newspapers, I would have thought you were dead." You drove your point home, with a small voice, too angry to be a whisper and yet too concerned to be a hiss. The evidence of his activities was written across his bare torso in older cuts, new and fading bruises, and a couple of bandages that he’d obviously applied himself, "And you’ve obviously been busy."

"Figured out how the Yakuza found you. Handled it. Didn’t want to lead anyone else back here." His explanation was strained, pushed through gritted teeth as you applied antiseptic to the largest, freshest gash. You cooed small apologies, irritated as you were with the vigilante, you hated being the source of his pain. You picked up a suture kit, quickly threading the needle.

"Well, as far as excuses go, that’s not the worst." You muttered, half joking and half touched he’d go through this for you. You’d known he was a walking martyr from the moment you’d met him, but still. He’d taken the beatings so you’d sleep safe.

That was something else, "Lean back, gotta stitch you up."

He complied as you stood, using your shoulder to nudge the floor lamp so the light was better for you. Even then, you position on the coffee table wasn't cutting it as leaning forward cast a shadow over his chest. Neither was kneeling in front of him, as the gash was too far up his chest for your position to be adequate. You muttered a quick apology as you flitted around him, trying to find the best place to plant yourself. Beside him on the couch might work, but you’d be straining to hold yourself up at that angle and keep your hands steady.

Bloody-knuckled hands found your waist with amazing precision for a blind man, easily lifting you and placing you over one thigh after he spread his legs a bit wider. He held you steady, angling his eyes to the ceiling to give you the broadest view of his chest. One of your knees pressed into the couch cushion between his legs and the other pressed into the outside of his thigh, caging the his black-clad thigh between your own like a seat. If your weight bothered him, he gave no indication. He did however turn his ear ever so slightly towards you and smirk ever so devilishly, "How’s that?"

"Very convenient, thanks." You forced your voice to be flat instead of the breathlessness you felt. Stupid charming vigilante. To his credit, it gave you the perfect access without blocking the light. And if you got to feel ever twitch of his insanely muscular thigh between yours? Added benefit. The devil, even bruised and bleeding, was insanely warm and smelled like something out of a terribly sinful romance novel. The manly small of musk and sweat should have been revolting, but the way it mixed with a fading aftershave would have been distracting if you weren’t so focused on the drip of crimson down his toned abdomen. Before your train of thought could derail again, you gave a quiet warning watching your patient steel himself before you began running the needle and thread through the torn skin. Other than an initial hiss and the clenching of his fists against your waist, he went silent as you worked.

The two of you sat in an almost tense silence. He could feel how close your face was to his chest, the waves of breaths washing over his skin, the smell of shampoo in your hair faint enough to know you’d put off washing it, the sound of your heartbeat slowing back down after he’d gotten you excited, the slight sound of your teeth worrying the inside of your lip. He knew he shouldn't be here, Claire could have patched him up, probably would have if he asked really nicely. He probably could have if he really tried, but he’d just missed you. Between Fisk and the Hand and the law firm… everything was messy. You were still simple and sweet and far more caring than he thought he deserved, a balm just to be near you.

"Could you talk to me?" He asked, so quietly you almost missed it in your focus. You tied off another knot, seeing him wince.

"Hmm?" You hummed, pausing to look up from the half stitched wound. His eyes lowered to your face, his clenched hands at your waist loosening to rub the fabric of your shirt between his fingers. You always wore such soft things, he wondered if you’d be so soft underneath. You took opportunity in the pause to wipe some of the blood from his skin.

"I’ve missed your voice, even if you want to yell at me or be upset with me, just let me hear it." His voice was like a prayer, so sincere it made you shift on his leg. What was in the holy water at his church?

"I’m not going to yell at you, honey. I’m not going to kick a man when he’s stabbed." You shook your head, rearranging yourself to get that optimal view again, grazing a gloved finger over a purple bruise on his ribs, "Besides, someone beat me to it."

He chuckled at the lame joke, leaning his head back against the back of the couch again as you began stitching once more. Instead of scolding him, you caught him up on all the details and minor drama that he’d missed over the last few weeks. The funny things and annoyances from work, things your family had sent you, what your friends had been up to, your opinion on current happenings in the city. He listened to you like it was the most interesting thing he’d heard all year, chiming in with questions and quips of his own. You’d missed his voice too, not that you’d boost his ego by telling him that.

"There." You finally finished, tying the last stitch and taping a bandage over it. The vigilante under you didn’t make a move to leave, instead his hands kept you still on his lap. You breathed a laugh, moving on to everything else. You removed the old bandages, giving half healed wounds a thorough cleaning. You applied comical Disney bandaids to the more minor cuts on his hands and were even brazen enough to kiss his split knuckles. The vigilante seemed to preen under you attention as you cleaned and applied Vaseline to his busted lip. As if it was too good to be true, his lip twitched downwards as his eye brows furrowed. His face angled away from yours, his unseeing eyes falling on the window he’d come through.

"You know, the burner phone's been broken for two weeks now. Took the bullet not too long after the yakuza paid you a visit. Couldn't bring myself to throw it away, a little piece of you." He admitted, a pitiful smile twitched up before pulling downward again. He groaned, starting to shift you off his lap, “I shouldn’t be here, it’s not right.”

You allowed yourself to fall to the cushion beside him, but snatched the black shirt away from him before he could make a move for it. He’d been too busy letting his hands linger on your waist.

“Why not?” You asked sternly, tucking the shirt behind your back as if the vigilante in front of you couldn't probably drop you six ways to Tuesday if he wanted to. Not that he could ever consider raising a hand to you, “You got hurt, I patch you up. Seems right to me.”

The devil tensed, first leaning away and then leaning really close. His freshly bandaged fingers tapped your knee as if to emphasize his point, “I don’t deserve this kindness. And even if I did, if I could, if I was good, I would stop coming here so you could live in peace.”

You were a silent for a moment, wanting to make sure your response was exactly how you wanted it to come across.

“The third time you fell through my window, you told me that if I ever wanted to be left alone, all I’d need to do was change the candle I keep by the window.” You recounted his words. You hadn’t known about his senses at the time, he was still cryptic and mysterious. But you’d never changed the candle, buying new ones of the same scent when it would burn out, “You warned me what might happen. You gave me an out, one that I continuously chose to ignore. You did everything in your power to protect me when that choice had consequences. That was good, because you are good. And good people deserve kindness. You put too much on yourself, honey.”

As you spoke, you laid your hand over his on your knee, giving it a slight squeeze to convey your own point. The crimefighter listened to your voice, your heartbeat, the quickness of your breath, finding no deceit and even if he didn’t believe you words, it was nice to hear them. Your kindness washed over him, letting him relax for just a second before he shook his head, laughing sarcastically to deflect the dangerously sappy emotions you stirred. You called him honey like it was his name, and part of him wondered that if you knew his name if you would still call him honey.

“You barely know me, sweetheart.”

His own nickname slipped out by accident, usually just something he called you in his head when he allowed fantasies about telling you everything, coming home to you as the vigilante and the lawyer, seeing just how far your good grace could take him. His lips quirked up in time with the uptick of your pulse and the way your breath caught for a moment.

“I know enough to know you deserve some good.” You whispered earnestly, reaching up to graze the Star Wars bandaid you’d stuck across his the cut on his cheekbone. Almost instinctively, he leaned into the touch. You smiled softly, maybe you’d both missed each other a bit. The combined concern for the other and the time between his last visit making you both a little sappy, or at least more honest about it, So, you breathed a laugh, making another lame joke just to earn one of those chuckles you loved so much, “Besides, I know you well enough to have your blood on my hands.”

But he didn’t laugh, instead, he pulled his face from your palm, his own bandaged hands taking your bloodied gloved hands in his own. Gently, he pressed your hands together, your loose fists creating almost heart like shape as he pressed reverent kisses to each bloody hand. The vigilante was kind always, flirty and joking, occasionally flirtations bordering on something else. But this? This was different, it was new. Intimate. You’d almost feel like a voyeur for watching the scene if it you weren’t playing a starring role. Your mind flashed to those romance novels you’d thought of earlier, this put all of them to shame. So much so that your hands started trembling against his lips.

He held them tighter, but not in a constrictive, cage like way. More in a ‘let me hold you together’ kind of way before gently peeling the dirty gloves off and, again, kissing your clean hands underneath. His face angled to yours, nothing but sincerity lacing his features.

"You know my blood better than my own heart does.”

“God…” You whispered, letting your head fall against his shoulder, your nose nudging his collarbone and your eye lashes fluttering against his neck. His stubbled cheek fell to the crown of your head. You cleared your throat again, "I know your blood, but not your name. For someone I care so much about, that’s kind of sad.”

It was the first time you’d ever admitted it out loud in such certain words. The vigilante ran gentle hands up and down your arms, silent as a million thoughts went through his head. You heart was racing, not from lying, but in anticipation. Despite your racing pulse, you seemed almost totally at ease with you skin against his, one of your hands pressed to a bandage on his ribs and the other holding purchase at the waistline of his black pants. Nothing sexual, just the perfect place for your soft hand to land.

Despite the million thoughts, he really had two options. Keep his secret, and keep you at an arms length, to keep things sweet and simple and not too deep. Or. Let you in a little deeper, he'd swim oceans to keep you afloat. Enjoy your sweetness, even if things were complicated. He kept still, holding you as gently as you had touched him, a promise to himself that he could be gentle and soft, just as he could be lethal and ruthless. Two sides of a balanced scale.

Your heart had slowed down again, the soothing motion of his hands on your arm lulling you. You had been worried about his response. You’re confession had gotten too real, you were worried he’d jump out the window and disappear again. And you’d be left with nothing but bloody gloves and the thought that maybe you’d just imagined the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.

"Matt.” His voice was quiet, just barely above a whisper, “You can call me Matt. Just don’t stop calling me."

#matt murdock x reader #Daredevil x reader #matt murdock x you #daredevil x you #daredevil x female reader #matt murdock x y/n

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lady-lauren · 2 years

Text

Pairing: Pro-Hero!Katsuki x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Stuckage, slight dubcon, praise kink, degradation, light spanking, thigh fucking, spitting (on the pussy), fingering, vaginal sex, creampie

Word Count: 4k

A/N: I’ve wanted to write stuckage for so long, and who better with than Katsuki? For those who don’t know, stuckage just means one of the characters literally gets stuck and fucked lol in this case, it’s reader.

It’s a normal patrol night. Humid summer air sticks to sweaty, sweet smelling skin, makes Katuski’s hands itch in his gloves. In and out of alleys, checking lingering shadows and avoiding the gazes of pedestrians.

By midnight, he’s bored.

There are no alarms ringing on his phone, no idiot villains skirting around corners for him to chase. Wide awake and ansty, he slips down another alley, kicking a few trash bags before checking in a dumpster. He half-way wishes there was a body inside, just something to pique his interest.

“H-hey! Hey down there!” a feminine voice echoes off the brick walls of the apartment buildings, riding the heatwaves and sinking into the pavement.

Katsuki squints as he looks up, nose wrinkling at the thought of some fangirl yelling down at him from her bedroom.

Then, he sees you. You’re halfway out your window, three stories up.

He has to move around a bit to really get a good look at you, the rusted metal railings of the fire escape to your building blocking his view.

“What the fuck do you want?”

His tone is biting, like a dog snarling in warning to keep away.

“I need help! I- fuck,” you sound exhasperated, like you’ve been struggling, “My cat was on the fire escape—”

“Listen, I don’t chase after fucking cats! I’m a Pro-Hero, I have better shit to do.”

Though, at the moment, he truly doesn’t. But he most definitely doesn’t feel like manhandling some feisty cat on the streets.

“Oh my god,” he hears you mumble from above, head dropping as your hands press back on your window sill, “The cat’s fine! I’m the one who needs help. I’m…I’m stuck!”

Great. Some stupid damsel in distress. It’s a Saturday night, you should have better shit to do than worrying about your cat. You’re young, from what he can tell, probably in your mid-twenties like he is. You should be out partying, sucking cock and drinking too much.

“Fine! I’m coming up.”

With long leaps, he scales the fire escape easily, noticing how the other windows in this building either have their blinds closed or the lights are snuffed out. Your little window is glowing, though, warm yellow lamplight guiding his way to where you’re hanging.

His heavy boots on the steel make you shiver, your frayed nerves making you easily spooked. You raise your head the best you can, neck craning to look up at him.

“Oh. You’re Dynamight, right?”

He grits his teeth, sucking in a growl of frustration that you hadn’t recognized him earlier. His face is plastered on billboards, he’s the posterboy for Calvin Klein in magazines. You should know who he is just from one glance.

Purposely ignoring you, Katsuki crouches down to your level, making sure not to knock your stupid little head with his gauntlets as he starts to lift up on the window. He grunts as it doesn’t budge.

“It’s locked from the inside. Please don’t bust my lock, my landlord will fucking kill me,” you take in a deep breath, coughing a bit from where your lungs are trapped, “and the maintenance guy won’t fix it for a week.”

“Jesus fucking christ, then what do you want me to do? Push you back in?”

“Do you think that will work?”

Katsuki rebalances on his toes, staying low so he can actually take a look at your situation.

The heavy window has fallen onto your back, just below your shoulder blades. It fell at just the right angle to click the lock back in place, the simple turn mechanism taunting him from behind the glass. Your arms and tits are dangling on the outside, ass up inside your apartment. You’re in nothing but an oversized t-shirt, embroidered with some quirkless university logo.

“How long have you been like this?”

“I don’t know. Maybe, like, half an hour? My fingers are going numb.”

You’re not even bothering to raise your head up to speak, just talking down through the galvanized steel gratings. Your hair is a mess from your struggling.

He’d be a shitty hero if he left you like this. From up here, you’re tempting. He can see the curve of your ass, pink thong peeking out from the hem of your shirt.

Sighing, he pinches the bridge of his nose, “Is your apartment unlocked?”

“No. I’m not an idiot, I wouldn’t leave my door open when I live alone.” You’re getting frustrated, groaning as you try to shift yourself again, ass wiggling and knuckles turning color as you press against the window sill and try to shove yourself back inside. “However, the guy in the apartment l-lobby has keys to all the apartments. Tell him you need the one to 3-A.”

“And you think he’s just gonna give it to me, sweetheart?”

You finally raise your head and look up at him, brows furrowed but your pretty eyes are teary. Your lips are inches away from his clothed cock, he could easily pry your mouth open and—

“You’re a hero, aren’t you? I’m sure he’ll give you the fucking key for a girl in need.”

Katsuki doesn’t bother to bite back his grumblings, muttering about how fucking stupid you are and how he doesn’t get paid enough for this shit as he descends the fire escape.

Like you said, the lobby attendant doesn’t bat an eyelash when Katsuki asks for the key to your apartment.

In fact, the guy stares at the orange and black of Katsuki’s chest, grinning as he looks up and asks for an autograph. Katsuki feels like grabbing the guy’s stupid head and bashing it into the counter. But he obliges, taking a few extra seconds to scribble his name onto an empty sign-in sheet.

“Thanks man! You got a date with that girl in 3-A? She’s a real cute one.”

“Shut up.”

On his journey up the stairs, Katsuki finds himself agreeing with the man. This could be worse, he could be helping some old hag stuck in her window, trapped in her curlers and nightgown. Instead, it’s some adorable little college girl who just might give him a special treat for saving her. That thought makes him smirk and hold on to the little metal key just a bit tighter.

When Katsuki pries open your apartment door, you are truly a sight to behold.

The window is behind your couch, one with soft cushions that your knees are sinking into. Gravity is working against you, making you lean down and out the window, your beautiful ass high and completely exposed as your shirt peels away from your waist.

The light pink thong does nothing to cover you, the fabric tight against the folds of your pussy between your legs. Katsuki slams the door shut just to watch you jump, legs spreading from the jolt.

Katsuki takes a moment just to look around your apartment, that nosy nature buried in everyone rearing its head. You’re definitely a student, bookshelves full of textbooks, notebooks, and whatever else you’ve been assigned to waste your time on. There are a few plants scattered around the one bedroom apartment, posters on the wall, a few framed pictures of your friends.

And the offender who started your predicament sits on the kitchen counter, swishing her tail as Katsuki makes a face. The cat doesn’t budge, just sits and stares with judgment.

“Alright, princess,” he wolf-whistles as he comes closer, flexing his fingers in his gloves, “you really got yourself into a fucking mess.”

You mumble outside the window, but he doesn’t catch it, mind on a single track as he stands right behind you. Closer now, he can see that your panties are wet, dampness making the cotton nearly see-through.

Hooking his index finger underneath the elastic of your thong, he snaps the fabric against your hip just because he can.

Your whole body jumps, a very audible moan sounding from outside.

“Oh, you like that?”

He laughs and repeats his action, taking the time to smooth his finger along the line of your thong before tugging and snapping the flimsy thing harder than before.

He knows this is wrong, the dronings of his hero ethics course ringing in his ears about how a hero should never take advantage of a civilian like this. But he’s a man, a dreadfully bored one with a ripe, round ass just under his fingertips.

Katsuki places one palm on each ass cheek, kneading the supple flesh and spreading them apart. His gauntlets clink as he does, reminding him that he’s a hero, that he’s so much stronger than your little body can probably handle.

“Hey!” One of your legs kicks back at him, missing entirely, “you can fuck me after you get me out of this god damn window!”

“Why wait? You’re already in such a perfect position.”

Katsuki’s grin is wild as he crouches down, becoming eye level with your pussy. Using his gloved thumbs, he spreads your cheeks apart, eyes gleaming as he watches your outer folds suck in your panties.

He feels so powerful, more than normal.

He could do whatever he wanted to you right now and you could do nothing to stop him. He could fuck you for hours, use you like a cocksleeve, dump his cum deep in your guts and still leave you stuck and hanging out of your window. And he just might.

Outside, you whine, a high-pitched tune filtering through the open space of the window. You sound so pitiful, so lost.

“Come on, princess, let’s have some fucking fun.”

He shows his teeth in delight as he draws the fabric of your panties into his fist, using it like reins to keep you in place. You cry out as the cloth digs into your pussy, hot against your clit, dragging along your puckered hole. Your thighs quiver, pressing together to try to relieve the heat he’s creating. He imagines shoving his cock between the fat of your thighs, feeling your soft skin close around him and tug.

“You’re such a stupid little thing, getting stuck like this.”

Your head nods out the window, which makes him chuckle. At least you know you’re a fucking idiot.

His cock is so hard it hurts, leaking tip confined by the tight compress of his boxer briefs.

Red eyes glaze over as he starts shedding some of his gear. His obnoxiously large gauntlets go first, bouncing and clinking on your sofa, followed by his gloves. Then his fingers are quick on his belt, his black cargo pants falling to his knees and draping over his boots.

Katsuki wastes no time pumping his shaft, hissing with relief as his thumb rubs his weeping head.

He peels your panties off slowly, watching how your wetness sticks to the fabric, slick drooling just from the tiniest bit of teasing.

“Such a fucking slut, all wet from a stranger pulling on your fucking panties.”

He gives your ass a quick swat, watching your flesh jiggle. You gasp loudly, lurching forward but not budging in the tight constraint of the window’s edge.

Katsuki spreads your labia with his index finger, playing in the wet heat. You shiver with every touch, hips bucking when the pad of his finger toys with your swollen clit.

“I like how sensitive you are, princess.”

You moan so sweetly at his praise, and he makes a mental note to give you more. But it’s hard not to demean you when you’re like this, all spread open and whimpering for a stranger, stuck in the stupidest position. If you have any of those book smarts to you, he’s about to fuck you dumb.

Your slick is hot against his cock as he rubs his wet fingers against his length. He can’t help himself, his cock aches, his lower stomach pulling tighter than sailor’s knots.

Moving his hips, Katsuki slides his length across your folds, throwing his head back and groaning as he sinks his bare fingers into your hips. He rubs his cock along your pussy a few times, back and forth, back and forth, teasing you both as the veins of his cock throb and glide through puffy folds.

“Fuck your cunt is so hot, whatever loser boyfriend you have doesn’t fucking deserve this.”

The head of his cock brushes your clit and it makes your thighs squeeze together, your hands moving outside to grab at your swinging tits for some semblance of control.

You mumble incoherently about not having a boyfriend.

“Oh yeah? Must’ve been saving this pussy just for me then.”

He almost wants to see if you could just take him now, if he could shove his cock into your too-tight cunt and fuck you through the pain of stretching.

But he’s not that cruel, at least not yet.

Katsuki manhandles you up higher, balancing your knees on the back of your couch so your thighs become the perfect height for his cock.

Still coated in slick, his thick cockhead pops easily into the fat of your pressed thighs, length sliding in afterward. He repeats the motion, drawing his cock all the way out from between your legs, then slowly burrowing his red-hot flushed cock back in.

Your pussy flutters at his ministrations, tight hole sucking around nothing.

“Oh poor baby wants something in her pussy, doesn’t she?”

Sucking in his cheeks, Katsuki gathers spit in his mouth before letting it drip from his lips and down onto your cunt. The clear spit coats your folds, gets lost in the mix of your slick.

He could stare at your cunt all fucking day. It’s sexy, unique, spreads for him so easily.

His fingers are quick, purposeful. His index finger prods you, sliding between your shamefully dripping folds with quick ease. You try to clamp your legs shut at the onslaught of pleasure, but his hand is more durable than you expected.

His fingers are long, thick, perfect for curling inside you and finding that fleshy patch against your inner walls that has you shaking and panting. Two of them push inside of you, gummy walls sucking around him. He isn’t gentle. Each move of his hand is a satisfying jab into your pussy, jolts of hard pleasure racing up your spine and bliss turning hot under your skin.

Cock thumping, Katsuki begins to rock his hips, fucking into your thighs as he shoves his fingers into your cunt.

You’re mewling outside the glass, like a cat in heat out in the alley. The sounds are raunchy, mesmerizing.

Your slick is dripping against his fingers, each squelching push of his hand has you pressing farther into him. His cock is nestled perfectly between your thighs and each convulsion of your body, every clenching, stimulates him just as much.

“Love your fat fucking thighs,” he growls and slaps your ass with his free hand, grinning as your little body struggles to keep up with the onslaught of pleasures.

You are gasping, trying to catch short breaths beneath the weight of the window on your back before your inevitable fall into delirium.

“Dyna—Dynamiiight,” if anyone was awake right now, they’d hear your moans echoing down the bricks of your building.

You cum hard and fast, the pleasure so blinding that you slump down, knees dropping and thighs spasming around his cock. Your cunt is aching, cinching his fingers inside of you almost painfully. You cry out, sobbing at the intensity of it all, tears pricking at your lashes.

“Fuck your pussy gets tight when you cum, holy shit,” your hole pops with suction when he pulls his knuckles out of you.

You’re panting, exhausted and so sore from dangling out of your window, but he doesn’t care.

“I want you to scream like a little whore when I fuck you,” he spanks you to get your attention and pull you away from the aftershocks of orgasm, “you hear me out there?”

As Katsuki pumps his cock, smearing your wetness from his balls to his slit, he realizes he doesn’t even know your name.

Leaning forward, he bangs on the hazy glass with his fist to ensure he gets your attention.

“Hey! What’s your fucking name?”

Your body is limp, your hands now pressed down against the grates of the fire escape and blood rushing to your pretty head. Red eyes stare out the window until he sees a little nod. You raise your head to him, lips swollen from being pressed together, eyes glassy.

You look so fucking hot, all spent and messy just from what he’s doing to you.

You sputter out your name the best you can, gasping for air before rocking your hips back again, begging for his cock.

He shoves himself ruthlessly inside of you, the sharp pain of being spread racing across your nerves at the same time the tense squeeze of your insides make him lose control. You scream, mouth hanging open against the humid air as his cock spears into your insides. The pain quickly morphs into pleasure, his hips snapping up against yours with a ferocity that has moans spilling from your mouth even as you try to stop them.

There is no exit. No escape.

Just heavy breaths and the slapping of skin, wet flesh wrapped snugly around an intrusive cock.

Your body bounces back against him, ass rippling as his muscular thighs barrel into the backs of yours. You’re like a little fuck toy, pliant and soft, pussy gushing and sucking around his thickness.

Katsuki calls out your name just to hear you whine, grinning as he cups his hands around your waist and pulls you back with every quick thrust.

He likes having you like this, vulnerable, unable to move or even see what he’s about to do to you. Circling his thumb over your asshole, he does it just to hear your moans change pitch as you overthink, worrying he’s about to shove the thick digit into you. It’s tempting, but he’s far too focused on how your cunt feels.

Stuffed, he’s sure you feel so fucking stuffed, your puffy lips are dragging along his length with every push and pull, no room left in your guts every time he forces himself inside.

Cardinal eyes are glued to the color of your folds spreading around his cock, a thick cream pooling around his base, getting trapped in his coarse curls and staining his balls.

“You fucking love this, don’t you? Love having a stranger fuck you dumb.”

He doesn’t give a fuck that you can’t really respond; he’s losing his edge, his tongue becoming looser the more he races towards his climax.

“Knew I was gonna fuck you the moment I saw this pretty ass through the window,” he spanks you again, hard and fast, your cunt cinching tighter upon the moment of impact, “stupid little girl, needing to be fucking saved by a big strong,” he grunts, sweat dripping down from his hairline, “hero.”

Curses paint your lips each time his cock stretches you again, and again, and again, as the angle you’re trapped in has his cock brushing against that sweet spot inside of you with every fresh plunge.

“Oh you feel so fucking good squeezing me like that. So fucking good.”

The praise makes you louder, makes one of your neighbors bang on the wall to shut you up.

“You’re such a good girl for letting me fuck you like this, giving me your tight little cunt.”

Slick is drooling down your thighs, making every thrust a wet squish of flesh on flesh. You smell like sex, like sweat and salt, like some sweet fruit being peeled open just for him to taste.

“Need you to cum,” he groans, thinking about how your pussy grabbed hold of his fingers during orgasm, “want you to milk this fucking cock. Gonna cream in your cunt.”

He shouldn’t be so reckless. He should spray his seed on your back, he knows that, but your cunt is sucking him in so tightly that he wants to feel his cum rush your insides. Consequences be damned. He’ll breed you if he fucking wants to.

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease,” that’s all he hears, like a lost bird chirping outside the window, all breathy and airy as you try to contain yourself.

Your orgasm is more intense than before. Katsuki practically feels your whole body go numb, limp, the gasp of a silent scream against foggy glass as every part of you trembles.

The seams of sanity split apart for Katsuki as his balls tighten and that first gush of cum bursts against your gummy walls.

He doesn’t stop, not even as he comes undone, ropes and ropes of hot cum filling up your sloppy pussy and spurting down onto his clothes, onto your thighs. He is unrelenting, keeping you within the throes of orgasmic bliss with his cock plunging inside of you over and over again.

Just because he can. Because you can do nothing about it except drag your nails along steel and squeeze your cunt.

Finally, the hormones stop humming, and Katsuki’s empty balls have grown sore from grinding against your abused clit. He lets your hips drop, his still-hard cock springing out from your insides.

Cum flicks onto his face from the bounce of his dick. He wipes his cheek with sweaty hands, chuckling as he places his palms on the window and catches his breath.

“You alright out there, princess?”

You babble something, give him a little whine.

Shit, he probably went too hard on you.

Quickly, Katsuki clicks the lock and lifts the window, and you rush to take a deep breath into your lungs.

“Holy fucking shit.”

You’re slipping out the window from the loss of stability. He grabs your shirt, nearly ripping the threads as he tugs you back inside your apartment. You tumble into his broad chest, panting and sweaty.

“Seriously, you okay?”

Katsuki is uncaring as he knocks his gear off the couch, metal clanging. He lays you back against the cushions, hands petting at your hair.

He grimaces when he notices a solid line of indentation across your abdomen, just below your bunched shirt. Where the window had you in its grasp will be tender tomorrow.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just…trying to catch my breath.”

Unable to help himself, Katsuki flicks your shirt up, hungry eyes roaming your tits.

“Fucking greedy aren’t you?” You swat at his hand with a giggle.

He keeps his curious eyes on your hard nipples before letting them wander down, finding your swollen folds still leaking cum.

“You can really take a beating.”

He means it as a compliment.

Sitting up, you groan, stretching your back and rubbing at your sore spots.

“Maybe I should’ve gone to hero school instead, let myself be a paid punching bag.”

Katsuki scoffs, moving back so he can tuck himself into his pants and start to reassemble his gear. His phone is buzzing in his pocket, a notification about a break-in just a few streets away that shitty hair is going to go cover.

“I gotta get back to work. Give me your number.” He tosses his phone before you have a chance to react, the lock screen open as it bounces on your lap.

“What, so you can come save me again next time I’m stuck?”

Katsuki is serious when he looks at you, tightening the orange straps on his chest.

“So we can do this again sometime. Or, I dunno, I can take you on a fucking date if you want.”

You laugh and shrug, typing your name and number into his contacts.

“I’m off work tomorrow if you want to swing by, Dynamight.”

“Call me Katsuki, alright? And yeah, I’ll be by.”

You stand as he finishes making himself presentable, grenade gauntlets clicking back into place on his forearms. He grabs his phone from you and immediately texts you his name.

“Kiss me before you go?”

Your lashes are fluttering up at him, eyes sincere.

“God damn I did this all ass-backwards, didn’t I?” He scolds himself out loud, blowing hot air through his nose.

“You could’ve fucked me and left me,” you giggle, “next time we can catch up on everything we missed.”

He nods curtly, grabbing your face a bit too rough so he can crash his lips against yours. He’s brutal to prove a point, that he wants to kiss you, wants to do more than just take advantage of you. You respond in kind, nails scraping at his chest as you moan against him.

His phone rings again and he pulls away, sweaty palm musing through his hair as he stalks toward your front door.

“Tomorrow.”

He states it as a matter-of-fact. Tomorrow he will be back. Tomorrow he will fuck you again.

The summer air is more suffocating as he returns back to the streets, still resituating his costume and pulling at the crotch of his pants.

You’re fucking insane for letting him fuck you like that, but he’s worse for doing it.

Guilt builds on his shoulders as he stalks toward where he’s needed, only being relieved when he receives a text with your name on it.

1:45 a.m.: photo message

It’s a picture of your cunt, spread open by your fingers on your shitty little sofa. His cum still stains your folds, white is still dribbling out of your little hole.

He stops walking, stares down into the blue light of his screen as his mouth goes dry.

1:46 a.m.: photo message

Now it’s your tits, on full display below your shirt that you have pulled up between your teeth.

1:46 a.m.: I want your cock between them. Tomorrow.

Big thumbs type furiously, his brows locked together.

1:47 a.m.: You’re a fucking freak.

And so is he.

#bakugou smut #katsuki smut #tw:dubcon #tw:stuckage #bakugo smut #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bnha smut #bnha bakugou smut #katsuki bakugou #bakugou fanfic #katsuki fanfic #stuckage smut

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tojisun · 1 year

Text

i fall to pieces

dilf!toji x college student!fem reader

!! this is a mess of tropes that i’ve always wanted to explore (such as lovingly tending injuries and being in love with your best friend’s dad) - the second one is a major CW; legal age gap (reader is in her early 20s and toji is in his late 40s); mentions of bullying (not between toji and the reader); petnames; no curses au // 2.9k words

: i had fun writing this even though i kinda forgot what the plot is midway; i hope u guys would like it <33; title is from cherry - lana

your knuckles, the ones that aren’t bruised, raps on the door, impatience thrumming in your veins. the ache in your jaw still stings, but you are far too focused on the split skin on your knuckles and how the trickling blood had turned the hems of your cream-coloured long sleeves into a garish sight. your chest heaves at another ragged exhale, your whole body trembling, feeling the burning remnants of exhaustion.

the door opens after your last bout of knocks.

“jesus, what- y/n?”

you startle, not expecting toji to be the one to answer the door.

“what the fuck happened to you?” he asks when you didn’t reply, reaching to wrap around your less injured hand, clasping his thick fingers and warm palm around your wrist to tug you inside the quaint home.

“uh,” you say unintelligibly, following him with unsteady feet as he leads you two to the living room. “is gumi-chan here, fushiguro-san?” is what you said instead, not really knowing where to even begin with unpacking the dumpster fire of a fight that you were in just minutes ago.

he clicks his tongue. “i told you to just call me ‘toji’, kid.” he sits you on the sofa, your body bouncing on the plush cushions in a cartoonish way. “and brat’s with y’r other friend. the loud one with pink hair.”

you hum. “yuuji,” you say even though toji would just forget your friend’s name again.

he grunts. “yeah, that one. a’right, you,” toji points at you. “y’stay here and don’t even think about movin’.” then he disappears, his feet padding quietly on the wooden floors.

only when he’s left do you realize how tense you still are, your shoulders poised as if expecting an attack. you force yourself to let go, feeling your body tremble at the extra effort it needed to exert to unwind your aching body. your eyes slip shut, your brows furrowing as your side throbs in pain again. fuck, you thought, the bitch got me good.

any other day, you would’ve found yourself winning a tussle with no injuries. or, you grumbled to yourself, i wouldn’t even be in the tussle. but they had no right to pick on mai like that.

(“heard you sucked cocks to get here,” fake blondie crooned as she wagged her stick-like finger, tutting like mai was a child.

mai bristled—who wouldn’t?

she’s put countless efforts to get to where she is right now, and for her integrity to be questioned, because what? mai’s too pretty, too confident in herself, for a smart kid? clearly fake blondie hasn't seen enough of your friend group if she’s baffled by how someone could be smart and pretty and confident. even panda was charming, and no one even knows what he looks like underneath that mask he stuffs his head in.

so next thing you knew nobara was throwing a punch, with momo jumping at fake blondie, and of course you had to join in; you weren’t going to let your girls fight on their own. but then one of fake blondie’s friends pulled out a bat out of nowhere and hit you at your side.

you stumbled on your feet, almost tumbling to your knees at the sharp pain. mai’s shrill scream had been enough of a wake-up call before you were reaching at bat girl’s hair and yanking hard, forcing her to crumple before you.

it was a blur after that. then mai was nudging you out of the alley, murmuring her thanks, before you four were parting ways.)

you hear toji walking back in and you peel your eyes open, tracking him as he makes his way back to you. he falls on the floor, almost between your legs, and your breath stutters when you realize the lack of proper distance between you and your best friend’s dad, so you clamp your legs shut and looked away just before toji could lift his head to meet your eyes.

you startle when warm hands clasp with yours, your eyes jumping back to toji.

“easy,” he grunts like your heart isn’t thrumming loud and fast within the cages of your ribs. you swallow the lump lodged in your throat.

“ok-y,” you reply, internally cringing when your voice breaks at the end of a single word. fuck, you’re a mess. you clear your throat, feigning nonchalance even as toji begins uncapping the alcohol. “okay,” you repeat.

he hums, spilling alcohol into the cotton ball before pressing the soaked cotton on your split skin. a hiss makes it past your teeth before you are clamping your lips tightly, trying your best not to jostle your body any more. you didn’t even notice your flinch until you hear toji’s soft shh sounds, his thumb running soothing circles on the part of your skin that isn’t wounded or bruised.

“m’sorry,” you murmur, feeling shy all of a sudden, your lips still pursed at the dull thrum of pain.

“s’fine,” he says. “should’a warned you.” toji pauses, the cotton pinched between thick fingers. he looks at you. “good to go?”

you nod, not trusting your treacherous voice anymore.

toji’s lips quirk up in a small smile. “good girl.”

your mind screeches to a halt, your breath getting stuck in your lungs. it is like the world has stopped orbiting—it hasn’t, not when you can see toji dressing your wounds with gentle hands and even gentler touch—and all that’s left is the echoing words that toji just uttered.

good girl, he said naturally. genuinely.

good girl, he said in a voice that denoted nothing out of the norm, the same way we’d say the sky is blue and the ocean is deep and you are a good girl.

(his good girl.)

good girl, he said like he meant it.

fuck. fuck.

a squeal is building in your throat, your body trembling softly as the emotions seated in your chest began to expand and spill over and–

“ow!” you hiss, unconsciously tugging your hand away from toji’s hold, feeling the bite of stinging alcohol running along your tender skin where scratches and beading blood laid.

toji blinks at you. you blink at him in return, feeling prickles of embarrassment creeping from the base of your neck.

you laugh, something so fake and brittle, feeling so ashamed and awkward. “sorry.”

toji shakes his head, huffing fondly, and his eyes crinkling in such a soft way. “c’mon kid, give y’r hand to me and we can finish patchin’ it up.”

you gingerly give him your hand again, licking your lips, wanting to say something even though words aren’t structuring themselves properly in your head, only to collapse into silence as toji’s hands cradle yours softly once again.

(he’s always been so soft with you.)

he hums, approval dancing in his tone. “y’r doin’ well, kid.”

before you could stop yourself, a wheeze punches itself past your throat. christ, the praises.

toji looks up, concerned.

“just parched,” you say before he could ask, feigning dry coughs to strengthen your obvious lie.

“…i’ll get you somethin’ after this,” toji replies hesitantly. “you still like those ramune, yeah?”

“yeah,” you answer, your voice curling as you smile, watching as toji begins to bandage your hand. your cheeks tingle when toji’s lips tug up at hearing your quiet excitement.

you cough, clearing your throat. “i’m shocked gumi-chan kept a stock here,” you say, after a while, wanting to break the loaded silence. “he said he doesn’t like them anymore.” your nose scrunches in judgement.

toji kept to himself for a moment and you wondered if you said something wrong. shame curls in your stomach, chasing away the previous excitement that had been budding in your chest. an apology sits on your tongue, prickling and heavy, then toji huffs. it’s only then do you notice that the bandages are secured but toji still hasn’t let go of your hand.

“yeah, megumi’s done with ‘em,” he finally says, running soothing circles on your skin again. “i just kept buyin’ a bunch cause i know you like ‘em.”

“oh,” you mutter, feeling so breathless and choked up at the same time.

toji chuckles without humour. “yeah. ‘oh’.”

there’s a certain hesitancy in his next caress, an internal battle flickering from within his eyes, and you feel lost, anxiety and desire mixing in an uneasy tandem, overwhelming your veins to the point of silencing the previous beating you had. then, toji lets go.

your hands twitch, jolting to pull him back, but you catch yourself before your touch can connect. but it’s too late: toji had seen your aborted move.

he looks at you, searching for something in your eyes. a heartbeat passed, and you don’t know what’s gotten into you but you fall into his space, your knees hitting the floor with a loud thud. it’d be another pair of bruises that you’d carry home today but for now, with trembling arms and roaring heart, you let your hope choke you to the point of acting stupidly.

the kiss was chaste, cracked lips just landing on top of scarred ones. the world felt faraway yet scorching at the same time.

you feel toji tense under you and panic explodes in your chest.

stupid. stupid!

you pull back, an apology on the tip of your tongue, but you are stopped by toji’s arms encircling your waist to tug you to his lap. one of toji’s arms snake to your back, his palm coming to rest on the back of your head, before you feel him pulling you back into another kiss. this one is deeper. more heated. more desperate.

good. you think to yourself as your eyes shut close, feeling yourself drowning in toji’s kiss. so good.

you loop your arms around toji’s neck, tugging him closer as if you two aren’t already pressed flushed onto each other, raking your fingers through the straight strands of his hair.

you savour the kiss, the moment, toji’s touch. you know that after this, there will be nothing between you and toji. a shared kiss is easy to forget as time crawls by, after all, nothing good will come out if things between yourselves are made serious. you’re not allowed to hope.

but god, the way you still do.

you hope that toji would make you his, whatever “being his” even means. you hope that he’d whisper confessions, stilted as they always are from toji’s lips, or praises. lots and lots of praises. you hope that when you two pull apart for air, toji would push himself back in your space and kiss you again, just as yearning as you are.

(you hope he loves you just as much.)

then, despite your internal cries of ‘too soon’, toji is pulling himself from the kiss. you let go, sucking in air desperately, filling your lungs with needed air to distract yourself from the searing loneliness that is crushing you already.

you clamber off his lap, not meeting his eyes, only to pause when toji refused to let you go.

“uhm,” you begin, trying your best to ignore the tingling of your lips, when toji refused to budge. “toji-san?”

you startle when he cups your cheeks. “told you it’s just ‘toji’, kid.”

“okay,” you murmur. “toji, what’s, uhm, what’s up?”

he chuckles. “well if you keep rollin’ your hips, then somethin’s gon’ be up, a’right.”

you choke, startling on his lap upon hearing his words, the previous tensed atmosphere shattering into something light and humorous. “what the hell?”

but toji doesn’t regale you a response, instead he caresses the skin under your eye, smiling cheekily. “my pretty girl,” he coos.

your lips part, ready for just as cheeky of a response, when toji’s eyes turn sharp and steely, chasing away the stuttering words on the tip of your tongue.

“you fought them well, didn’t you?” he continues, his voice still in that crooning tone. “you came to me, beautiful in y’r anger.” toji’s voice has turned into measured murmurs. “and i know you must’ve won—you always do, kid.”

you nod, not knowing where the conversation is going.

“but you came to me, bleedin’ and achin’ and it terrified me.” he leans forward and presses a kiss on the corner of your lips. “and it got me thinkin’–” he pauses, going silent.

you shiver, feeling the way his lips are still pressed on your skin, ghosting with their touch—teasing, caressing. the desire keeps growing in the pit of your stomach.

then, toji pulls back, his eyes finding yours as he says, “i don’t think i can handle lettin’ you go anymore, pretendin’ i don’t love you.”

“what.” your voice came out as a gasp, your lips (still tingling from toji’s kiss, you noticed with satisfaction) falling in surprise.

“wait,” you say because you couldn’t fathom a reality where toji said he loves you. “what?”

“c’mon kid, up-up,” he replies instead, carefully pushing you off his lap and urging you to stand before he can clamber to his feet. you follow his command, feeling lightheaded and overwhelmed by everything.

he loves you?

“let’s get you y’r ramune,” he continues, pulling you to the kitchen, like he didn’t just drop a bombshell on you. still, you follow him to the kitchen—you would honestly follow him everywhere—hovering by the fridge, bandaged hand intertwined with toji’s own scarred hand, watching as he rummages past refrigerated produce, before pulling out the peach-flavoured soda. your favourite.

toji lets go of your hand and rips the seal off the nozzle before pushing on the ball. the clink of glass on glass is the only sound in the kitchen as toji turns and hands you the drink.

“thank you,” you say before taking a sip.

toji leans forward and presses a kiss on your forehead. “always.”

your cheeks burn, your veins thrumming with each wild pump of your yearning heart. the affection you have for him is spilling over and even with toji’s disjointed confession, you know it’s your turn to make the move.

so you step on your tiptoes, kissing toji on his jaw, before murmuring, “i’ve loved you since.”

as if that was all that toji had been waiting for, toji doesn’t waste any time before he’s scooping you off the floor and plopping you on the counter, his lips are hot as they met yours for another kiss. he cups your jaw, tilting your head up to deepen the kiss. the ramune slips from your hold but toji catches the soda, plopping it beside you, before turning his now free hands to touch whatever they could of your body. you reciprocate with the same ferocity, tugging at black strands and nipping his bottom lip, trying to convey the want and the love and the heat simmering inside you.

toji growls, deep and satisfied, his voice rumbling between you two. it was loaded with an emotion that easily reflected the storm raging in your chest, silencing the budding uncertainty over toji’s affections for you. you scratch at his back, trying to hold onto him tighter, afraid that this is just another dream.

(you used to count every single one of them, only stopping when one of those dreams left you too raw, feeling like you have been gutted and left to bleed on your bed.

you don’t remember the whole of it, but even with only the fragments you were left with, you know why you ache: flashes of a little kid with toji’s eyes and your nose; flashes of a life beyond flirty conversations and fleeting touches; flashes of vows that lasted a lifetime.

you woke up sobbing in your dorm room, feeling so small, so robbed of what you wish life could be with toji.)

toji pulls back, the whine in your throat cutting off into a moan when his lips latch on your throat, sucking and biting—marking you up because you are his. you arch your back, giving toji more room to stake his claim on you.

lust and love are mixing, leaving you breathless and teary-eyed because god you’ve been waiting for this for so long.

“love you,” you hiccup, trembling when toji’s hands hook under your shirt, tickling your skin with his ghosting touch.

“shh,” toji murmurs, fond and understanding, straightening up to gaze back at you again. “i know, baby. i’ve got you.” he loops your legs around his waist before toji is hoisting you up in his arms and, without staggering, carrying you to his room.

your eyes flutter when he carefully lays you down on his bed, his eyes watching you with reverence.

“let me love you,” he whispers.

you nod, softly. desperately. “please.”

his touch is a gentle scorch, his bigger body easily covering yours. when he thrusts, it is deep and and strong and filling, reaching your most intimate parts with measured strokes and unwavering intensity. when you cry his name, he croons and coos, praises spilling from his scarred lips along with his promises of loving you and caring for you, something that is so sentimental even as he continues to fuck you filthily.

“my sweet girl,” he murmurs on your skin, his lips latched on your collarbone. you almost don’t hear him amidst the consistent slaps of his thighs on your pelvis. “my precious, sweet girl.”

that’s how you cum: toji deep in you, your name slipping past his lips like prayer, and your pleasure consuming your every nerve.

you know things aren’t perfect, not yet anyway, but your mind is a mush, overwhelmed with toji (his scent, his touch, his words), your body is singing with euphoric contentment so you bury the worries deep in the pockets of your chest because for now, you are in the arms of the man you love. and he loves you just as firmly.

#suns.f #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x y/n #toji x reader #toji fushiguro #jjk x reader #suns #i had butterflies writing this omg

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cherryrainn · 3 months

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I hope you are well!

Can I request a Hazbin hotel Vox x f!reader oneshot/song fic ( lavender kiss by the licks ) thats just something about a late night spent alone with him? Thinking romance, sweetness, how he is behind closed doors, just overall comfort stuff!

I found your work on ao3 and loooved the meet me in the pale moonlight songfic, it was breathtaking. You actually inspired me to start my blog, your writing is so lovely 🖤

Excited to see what you write,

Signed, Koko

━━ ✧ 𝐥𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

─ ✩ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ; vox + reader

─ ✩ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ; HII!!! THIS IS SO SWEET. I'M SO GLAD MY WRITING INSPIRES PEOPLE!! YOU ARE SO SWEET AND THANK YOU SOSO MUCH !!

─ ✩ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ; none

─ ✩ 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 ; here

the night draped itself over the bustling city of hell, casting shadows that danced to the rhythm of distant sirens and echoing laughter. within the confines of a luxurious penthouse suite overlooking the chaotic skyline, vox, the charismatic and enigmatic demon of technology, found himself immersed in a world far removed from his usual grandiose schemes and relentless pursuits for power. tonight, he was not the manipulative man craving attention but a partner, a lover, basking in the comforting silence that only the late hours could offer.

what is a man?

you, his beloved, sat beside him, the soft glow from his flat-screen tv head casting an ethereal luminescence across the room. the shimmering lights revealed the intricacies of his features—the red sclera, light blue pupils, and that captivating mouth with sharp teeth that emitted a gentle, soothing light. the juxtaposition of his imposing 7-foot stature and the tenderness in his gaze, as he looked at you, was a sight to behold.

what is a woman?

vox had shed his dark blue tuxedo jacket. his fingers delicately traced patterns on your hand, sending a comforting chill down your spine. the air between you was thick with anticipation, a palpable tension that neither of you wanted to break.

what is a heart that loves inside?

"you ever think we'd get a night like this?" he asked, his voice dripping with a mix of mischief and genuine curiosity.

what makes a man

you leaned in closer, feeling the magnetic pull between you two. "in a place like this? never. but i'm glad it's with you."

fall for a woman?

a sly smirk crept across vox's face as he leaned back, pulling you into his lap. his light blue fingers traced lazy circles on your back, sending a shiver down your spine.

what makes a woman take his hand, baby?

"you and me both," he purred, his voice oozing confidence. "this place can be a dumpster fire, but with you, it's almost bearable."

in a wonderland

you chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck. "only 'almost'?"

i'm in a wonderland

he laughed, a sound that echoed with a warmth you'd never heard from him before. "alright, alright, you got me. it's more than bearable; it's downright enjoyable."

take me back to this

the two of you lost yourselves in each other's company, the outside world becoming nothing more than a distant memory.

i just want you to want me

there were stolen kisses and tender touches, each one deepening the connection between you two.

i don't need any other hand to hold so near

as the night wore on, vox pulled you closer, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. "you know," he began, his voice softer than you'd ever heard, "i never thought i'd find someone who gets me like you do."

make me scream for this

you smiled, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. "and i never thought i'd find someone as...complex as you vox."

i just want you to want me

his grin widened, revealing those glowing teeth. "complex, huh? i'll take that as a compliment."

i need your lavender kiss

with a tender smile, he cupped your face, his glowing eyes locking onto yours as if trying to etch the memory of this night into his very being.

who is your man?

"you're somethin' else, you know that?" he whispered, his breath warm against your lips. "never thought i'd be caught in the feels like this."

who is my woman?

you chuckled, your heart fluttering at the unexpected vulnerability in his words. "feelings are a wild ride, vox."

where is my heart that loves inside?

vox leaned in, closing the distance between you with a gentle, lingering kiss. his lips were soft against yours, a testament to the tenderness that lurked beneath his charismatic exterior. as he pulled away, a mischievous glint returned to his eyes.

what makes a man

"maybe hell isn't so bad if it means more nights like this," he mused, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back.

fall for a woman?

the two of you shared another kiss, deeper this time, as if trying to savor every fleeting moment. vox's hand slipped into yours, fingers intertwining, grounding you in the reality of the connection you shared.

what makes her think she can take it back?

"who would've thought the big-shot vox could be such a softie?" you teased, earning a playful smirk from him.

in a wonderland

"hey, don't get used to it," vox replied, his tone light but affectionate. "i've got an image to uphold, you know."

i'm in a wonderland

the room filled with the quiet symphony of laughter and hushed conversations, punctuated by stolen kisses that spoke of a connection that transcended the chaos outside.

take me back to this

vox's lips found yours again and again, each kiss a promise, a vow, and a silent declaration of something deeper than words could convey.

i just want you to love me

as the sun continued its ascent, bathing the penthouse in a golden glow, vox held you close, his head resting against yours. "this," he murmured, "this is what makes it all worth it."

i don't need any other hand to hold so near

"you've got me, you know? all of me. and that's not something i give freely." said vox

make me scream for this

"i know," you whispered, your fingers tracing patterns on his chest. "and i promise to cherish every part of you, vox."

i just want you to want me

a contented sigh escaped vox's lips as he buried his face on the top of your head, planting soft kisses along your collarbone. the sensation sent tingles down your spine, each kiss a testament to the depth of his affection.

i need your

minutes, or perhaps hours, seemed to slip away as you and vox lost yourselves in each other's embrace. the world outside faded into insignificance as you reveled in the intimacy of the moment, each touch and whispered word deepening the bond that connected you.

oh, i need your

finally, as the sun reached its zenith, casting a radiant red glow that illuminated the entire penthouse, vox pulled away slightly, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. "promise me something," he murmured, his voice husky with emotion.

"anything," you replied, captivated by the vulnerability in his gaze.

"promise me you'll always be mine," he murmured, his voice laced with a trace of uncertainty and vulnerability. "promise me you'll always want me, that you'll never walk away." vox whispered, his fingers tracing your lips.

oh, i need your

you nodded "i promise," you vowed, sealing your promise with a tender kiss.

#VOX #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel #hazbin #y/n #reader insert #x reader #ask #fluff #songfic #hazbin hotel x reader

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joeys-babe · 4 months

Text

Joey B Blurbs: Can’t Help Falling in Love

————————————————————————-

Summary: You surprise Joe when he gets home from practice by putting on your wedding dress from your wedding back in March of 2022.

Warnings: Fluff

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine universe: Into The Mystic

A/N: Joe isn't injured.

————————————————————————-

*December 30th, 2023 - 22 weeks pregnant*

(y/n’s pov)

Joe was currently away at an early morning practice, preparing for the Chief’s game tomorrow.

The team would be getting on a plane for Kansas City tonight, and Zac called an ‘emergency’ practice this morning.

Since Joe was away, I was doing some seriously needed deep cleaning in the house.

Tyson and Miles’s room would have to be last to be cleaned since they wouldn't be up for a while.

I will never take for granted the fact that the terrible twos don't seem to be a thing to the twins. They're closer to three and have remained their happy selves.

The reason I mention this is because when they do wake up, they'll happily help me clean their room without being asked.

My heart warmed when I walked into what will be our baby girl’s nursery once she's born and old enough to be moved out of Joe and I’s room.

The walls were painted a cream color with an accent wall of vintage floral wallpaper.

Joe was the one who approached me with the idea, and I loved it.

Her name had a vintage feel, so her nursery having the same vibe was perfect.

One thing about our baby girl is that she was already 100% a daddy’s girl.

She loved it when Joe talked to my stomach, as she would kick after every sentence that left his mouth.

Joe ate every bit of it up, already taking his girl-dad role very seriously. He was so involved in my pregnancy, making sure to be there for his wife and beloved baby girl.

He just loved her so much.

My thoughts made me smile to myself as I looked around her unfurnished room and absentmindedly rubbed my bump.

Soon, I snapped out of my thoughts and remembered my cleaning.

——

After getting Joe and I’s bedroom and bathroom cleaned, it was time to move onto the closet.

I saved it for last because I knew it was going to be a doozy.

With constant packages of clothing items arriving at the house for Joe’s game-day fits, there was always a huge stack of boxes in here.

Usually, after the stack reaches a certain height, Joe would take them out to the dumpster.

Lately, though, he's fallen behind on his duties, and the stack was huge.

After clearing that out, I started going through my side of the closet, knowing Joe wouldn't exactly be happy if I moved his stuff around.

I knew I'd find some gems, doing a deep clean in my closet, but I didn't expect to find my wedding dress.

It looked just as beautiful as I remembered and it took my breath away.

Joe and I’s wedding back in March of 2022 was an absolute dream. We were so happy, nothing could sour our moods.

We looked back at our wedding photos all of the time, watching the videos of our vows being one of our favorite things.

I remembered a video I'd seen on TikTok last night of a wife putting on her wedding dress to surprise her husband, and I immediately decided to do it.

That is if the baby bump and growing boobs allow this dress to fit me.

It wouldn't necessarily be a prank or the usual trends that I've tried in him, so it would be a good change.

——

A few hours later, Tyson and Miles had been awake for a while, and we all got their room cleaned.

Joe would be home soon because he told me what time practice ended before he left this morning.

That being said, I was now upstairs trying to slip my wedding dress on.

Thankfully, the bodice part of the dress didn't quite reach my belly, so it was perfectly hidden under the skirt. I was a little surprised that my growing chest was able to stay contained under the fabric since I'd had to buy bigger bras since getting pregnant.

I didn't even attempt to try to zip the back of the dress up, though.

Moments later I could hear my phone ringing in the bedroom, and I had to practically waddle my way over there to get it.

It was Joe calling, probably telling me that he was on his way.

“Hey, Joey.” - you

“Hey, Mama. Just wanted to tell you that I'm leaving practice right now. I should be home in a bit.” - Joe

“Oh okay, how was practice?” - you

“As good as practice can be, I guess.” - Joe chuckled

I laughed along with him before he started talking again.

“How’s your day been? The boys and baby girl doing good?” - Joe

“We’re perfect. Just miss you. Princess has been a little restless today, probably wanting to talk to her daddy.” - you

“I miss you guys too, Imma be home soon. I promise to be with you till I have to leave tonight.” - Joe

“Okay. I love you, Joe. Be safe.” - you

“I will be. I love you too, so much. See you soon, my love.” - Joe

“See you soon. Bye.” - you

“Bye, baby.” - Joe hung up

Now I just have to wait.

——

I sat on the couch to the best of my ability, waiting for Joe to get home when I heard the garage door opening.

Tyson and Miles jumped off of the couch to go greet their dad, and soon I could hear that deep voice coming from the mud room.

“Where's your momma at?” - Joe

“Couch.” - Miles

A few moments later Joe’s heavy footsteps got louder and his tall frame was in my view.

His eyes lit up, and he stopped in his tracks when he saw me. Joe’s mouth dropped open into a taken-aback huge grin.

“Baby… woah. You look... woah.” - Joe

I stood up and walked closer to him, his eyes never once leaving me.

“y/n, you look so beautiful. I don't even know what to say.” - Joe

Standing on my tiptoes to place a kiss on his lips, Joe wrapped his arms around my waist.

“Where’d your bump go?” - Joe laughed

I turned to the side and flattened my hands around it, causing Joe to laugh and reach for it.

Joe rubbed over my bump for a second before pulling his hand back to take in everything.

“I’m not even gonna lie though, I will need your help taking this thing off.” - you

“Wouldn't be the first time.” - Joe smirked

“Joseph Lee!” - you playfully hit his arm

“I’m not lying though!” - Joe

——

Later, after Joe helped me out of my dress, he gave me something that he had brought home but forgot to give me because he got distracted by me in my dress.

It was some Mexican food that he had picked up pm his way home from practice since I had told him this morning that I was craving it.

Now, we were sitting on the couch together as I ate.

“Thank you for this.” - you took a bite of your chimichanga

“You’re so welcome, Mama.” - Joe kissed your cheek

A few seconds of silence went by as Joe stole a bite of my chimichanga.

“Did my wedding dress look good on me still? After having twins and currently being pregnant, I don't even want to know how different it looks on me.” - you

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Joe giving me a stank face, and I couldn't help but laugh when I turned my head to face him.

“What’s that look for?” - you laughed

“You’re fucking with me, right? Like you're joking?” - Joe

“No?” - you

“y/n. No matter how many changes your body has gone through you are as beautiful as the girl I dated in high school, all through college, and the girl I said I do to. Wanna know why?” - Joe

“Why?” - you

“Because you're the same girl you were before you had our babies. And to be completely honest with you, those changes make you even more gorgeous than before. To me, you don't have any imperfections because I love every part of your body. Those little stretch marks you complain about? They are a reminder of your body growing to accommodate your babies. Your belly getting bigger? That's home to our princess. I say all that to say this. y/n you are the most beautiful woman on this planet, and I love you so much.” - Joe

Joe wiped the tears that were dripping down my cheeks. They were happy tears time ten.

“I didn't mean to make you cry on your chimichanga.” - Joe

I laughed and leaned into his touch, savoring the feel of his skin against mine.

“They're happy tears, Joe, and thank you for the pep talk… I needed that.” - you

“I know you did, baby. Now finish your food, Imma talk to the baby.” - Joe leaned down and looked at you, asking for permission to lift your shirt

“Go ahead.” - you grinned

What would I do without him?

————————————————————————-

Authors note: more of an imagine than a blurb but whatevs

Request for this fic;

Hope you enjoyed! 💕

#joe burrow #bengals #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #cincinnati bengals #joey b #joe burrow fan fic

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buckyalpine · 2 years

Note

I need some protective cuddle Bucky with his pregnant pillow 🥺

How would he be when you first start getting Braxton hicks?

18+

Love this. Yes.

Bucky x pregnant reader

"Baby? What happened?"

You whimpered in pain, dropping the spoon you were holding, grabbing the side of belly unable to respond. Bucky rushed to your side where you stood in the kitchen making some tea.

"Y/n? What's wrong, is it the baby?"

"Contractions" You manage to hiss out, gripping onto the counter waiting for the pain to pass. Bucky's eyes grew wide in fear, there were still a few weeks till your due date, so why were you contracting already. You sighed in relief as the pain dissipated, quickly noticing your super soldiers distress.

"I'm okay bubba, they're just Braxton hicks contractions, they come and go"

His hands immediately went to your growing bump, rubbing soothing circles onto your skin. He looked terrified, his heart beating out of his chest, he didn't like it. He didn't like seeing you in pain and the thought of something happening to you or his little baby made him feel sick.

"Does it still hurt?" He whispered, moving behind you so he could cradle you close to him while keeping his hands on your tummy. You shook your head, lacing your fingers on top of his to move his hands to where the baby fluttered.

"It's okay now, see? Even peanut is saying I'm okay daddy" You smiled, pressing his hand firmly against your skin. Bucky kissed your temple but his heart hadn't stopped. He loved you for carrying his baby, but it also scared him. His baby had part of the serum. You were experiencing pregnancy symptoms 10 times worse than a regular one.

"How can I help?" His eyes are pleading with you, he just wants to do something, anything he can to make your pregnancy easier. He always takes you on walks, his arm wrapped snuggly around you, always asking if you feel too warm or cold. He's more than happy to be your human pillow, he definitely flipped off the body pillow you got. Don't ask where it went, Bucky has no idea how it ended up in the compound dumpster, torn in half.

He takes it upon himself to pamper you as often as he can. Which is exactly what he's going to go now. He quickly lifted you in his arms so he could run you a warm shower because this won't do, he won't just like you walk around in pain without taking care of your afterwards.

"Bucky, where are we going?" You giggle, while he held you close to him, making his way to your shared bedroom.

"To run you a bath and help you feel better" He says like it's the most obvious thing in the world. He fills the tub with warm water, checking the temperature to make sure it's not too hot (while you pout because you love to be boiled). Bucky notices your less than pleased face, chuckling because he knows you love your water hot. He helps you undress and is about to help you into the tub but you stop and look at him.

"What is it mama?"

"You join too" You shrug, and Bucky sucks in a breath because you pregnant and bare is the most perfect thing he's ever seen. He strips his clothes off, helping you sit against him, his arms snaking around to cradle your body. He's rubbing your tummy and shoulders, while you relax against him, his hands ghosting over your tender breasts. He cups and massages them before moving to your tummy again while kissing your temple.

"Does anything hurt?"

You shake your head, your eyes closed, relishing in his firm touch, no one else would ever show you this much love and care the way he did. He helped you out of the tub, wrapping you in a fluffy towel before laying you down on the bed. You giggled watching Bucky shuffle around the room grabbing your lotions; he focuses on your lower tummy, softly massaging the skin as gently as he could.

"How do you feel, are you in pain baby and baby?" He kisses your forehead before coming down to kiss your baby bump, resting his head on you.

"Bucky, what are you going to do when I get real contractions?" Bucky looked at you with wide eyes, he didn't even want to think about how he'd deal with you going through so much pain.

"I-

He genuinely doesn't know how to answer, he'd survived Hydra and this sounded worse. You bring him up to kiss him while he looks at you with puppy eyes, he's already reeling for when you get real contractions.

"Will you let me hold your hand?"

Bucky frantically nods, why would he ever say no to that?!

"And you'll be with me the whole time"

"Angel, I'd never leave your side"

"What if I yell at you?"

"Yell at me all you want baby"

"What if I get mad at you"

"It's okay, I'll still be with you"

"....What if I call you a big dick bitch?"

"....you like this bitches big dick"

"Bucky!"

"M'your Bucky"

Tags: @glxwingrxse @hungryyeyess @sebsgirl71479 @beabutterfly987 @teambarnes72 @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan @buggy14 @whimsyplaty92 @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec @pono-pura-vida @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z @elle14-blog1@littlelightnings @psychomanniac-blog @happyt0exist @emmabarnes @bethyruth@matchat3a@cjand10 @getwellsoontana @cherryschaos @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @ashenc-blog @buckybarnessimpp @potatothots @goldylions@high-functioning-lokipath@morganemorganite-blog@peaches1958@kingfleury@spiderman-stilinski@peaceinourtime82@gublur@wintersmelodie@geeky-politics-46@lolawassad@almosttoopizza@a-poor-gryffindork@alternativeprincess @buckycallsmeaslut@kamaria-sweet-writes@charmedbysarge @samfreakingwinchester @xnorthstar3x@kryoee7 @alina02 @gh0stgurl @batprincess1013

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psithurista · 5 months

Text

approach shift - epilogue

pairing: Peter Parker x f!reader (TASM/Andrew Garfield version) length: 2.3k rating: explicit 18+ warnings: PIV (protected), sneaky little non-descriptive pegging reference, disGUSting fluff

Peter Parker is a weirdo. A hot, distracting, irritating weirdo. And you can’t afford distractions right now. So there’s only one thing to do.

a/n: I'll keep it quick: I'm so sorry this took so long, but I just wasn't quite ready to finish it off haha. It's been two years almost to the day since I started writing this (and they've been fucking crazy years) so it feels very strange saying goodbye to these adorable losers. I once again can't even start to express how happy it's made me seeing your reactions to this fic, and I'm endlessly grateful to everyone who took the time to leave a comment or reach out to say hi. I hope you like this last sweet little snippet! x

series masterlist

SIX MONTHS LATER

“We need to get up,” you say, making no move to do so.

He turns his face from where it’s smushed into the pillow to speak, his eyes still closed. “You first.”

You groan.

You have no idea what time it is, and your phone is out of reach, but the light through the curtains is blinding like near-noon and Bear’s supposed to be here at 10 to pick you up, so you’re almost definitely cutting it fine.

“Peter.” Your legs are tangled with his, his thigh between yours. He huffs morning breath sleepily into your face in response, reaching a hand out to pat your cheek.

“Shh.” He shifts, pressing his thigh harder between your legs, skin sticky on skin. You know he’s doing it on purpose; he knows exactly where he’s pressing you. You make a quiet, satisfied noise, then pull away regretfully.

“Bear’s gonna be here soon and you need to be dressed. She’ll freak if she has to see your ass again.”

“Mmm. Yeah. I’m up.”

You sit up, and the slow weight of his arm slides off your waist. The bedroom door is open to the living room where you can see the debris left over from your at-home date the night before: the bowl still on the couch with a handful of unpopped kernels still rattling in the bottom, the fairy lights web-stuck across the ceiling still glowing gently and the blown-out candles stuck in pastel wax puddles to the coffee table you’d rescued from the curb a few weeks after moving in together. It’d been unbearably funny watching Peter’s elaborate performance of pretending to struggle under the weight of it on the way back home.

He drags himself out of bed, and you hear the coffee machine gurgling while you start pulling out clothes.

It’s hot and stuffy; the air’s stopped working again sometime in the night, so you screech the window open and prop the broom handle under the frame to keep it there. It’s a precarious solution—more than once, the window’s fallen shut while you’ve been at work, forcing Peter to awkwardly perform a frantic outfit change behind the dumpster in the alley so he doesn’t run the risk of running into one of your neighbours in the elevator. But the rent’s affordable for a pair of research scientists with a dash of supplementary freelance photography cash on the side, and the occasional bags of free food from a grateful shop owner after a thwarted hold-up.

“Should we call about the air?” you wonder out loud through the open door.   “Don’t worry about it, it’ll be quicker if I just get up on the roof and fix it again myself,” Peter says, his voice stretching out into a yawn halfway through. He appears in the bathroom doorway, still naked, two mugs in his hands.

You gasp in appreciation as he passes one to you. “God, I love you,” you murmur, taking a sip.

He grins dazedly at you in the mirror, his cheeks flushed. “Is that all it takes, huh? A crappy cup of coffee?”

You turn and slide the mug onto the counter so you can wrap your arms around his waist. “No. You’re cute, too. That helps.”

He kisses you, his thumb and index finger framing your chin. “M’not cute,” he says against your lips, leaning his too-warm body along yours. “M’intimidating as hell. Ask anybody.”

You’d only gotten as far as underwear before he’d interrupted you dressing, and it already feels like there’s far too much in the way between you. “You’re gonna make me late,” you say, reaching down to dig your fingers into the taut swell of his ass. “Gotta get ready.”

“Okay, so keep getting ready,” he says, mouthing at your neck. “You’re the one groping me.”

He’s right; now you’ve started, you can’t seem to stop. You press your hands to the small of his back, drawing him closer. You can feel his cock beginning to harden where his body is pressed against yours, and his tongue comes out to touch at your pulse. He makes a tiny noise in his throat as you slip one hand down between your bodies to wrap loosely around his rapidly-growing erection.

You stroke him once, gently, and he huffs. “I don’t see how this is helping,” he says.

You hum your response, your resolve melting away as he strokes the back of his knuckles down your spine, making you shiver. “Maybe…” you say.

He ducks his head to kiss first one breast, then the other, your nipples standing hard and sensitive. “Maybe?” he prompts. His fingers brush your hip, coming around to rest just below your navel.

“Maybe, if we’re quick…” you say, biting your lip, pushing your hips upward to try to encourage his hand lower.

 “Babe, I can be so quick,” he says, half-groan, half-laughter. He thumbs your labia, spreading you open just a little, so he can touch your clit. “Too quick, even, if you want. Some would say it’s a talent.”

You grin at him, letting go of his cock. “Bed. Now.”

He swings you up into his arms so fast your head spins, practically flinging you onto the bed.

You sprawl out in front of him, your arms thrown back as he peels your underwear off. “Holy shit,” he says, running his hands down your sides, staring at the expanse of your body. His jaw is slack with longing, and the sight of his adoration never fails to make fresh heat flood your face, even after seeing him staring at you like this so many times.

He kneels down over you, sucking two fingers into his mouth as he does. You hitch your knees up to give him a better angle, and he gently presses a firm thigh between your legs. “How do you wanna…?”

“Condom,” you tell him, running your fingers through his hair, making his eyes roll closed with pleasure. “No mess.”

He holds your lower lip gently between his teeth, and slowly pushes his two slick fingers inside you. You shift your hips up, and he withdraws them both again, using the slip of your arousal to work against your clit. He kneels up a little, so he can palm your breast with his other hand as he bends down to lick the inside of your thighs.

“Oh,” you breathe. His fingers stop circling to push back inside you, just as his tongue works a hot, messy kiss over your clit. You grab handfuls of his hair to try to keep up with the pace he’s setting, but the feeling of your fingers against his scalp only makes him work faster, a weak groan vibrating down through his tongue.

He bends his head lower, so he can lick around where your wetness has started to gather on his knuckles as he keeps pumping leisurely, in and out. It’s so wet you can both hear it, and he works faster, angling his fingers higher, until you’re writhing.

“Peter…come on, please,” you beg, yanking hard at his hair.

It works to break his concentration, and he scrambles up, leaning down sideways so he can dig around in the bottom drawer of the nightstand. It’s filled with an assorted mix of toys and, stashed further back, Peter’s wrist canisters. The logic had been that anybody who broke into your apartment would be too freaked out by the toys to keep looking in the drawer, but it also meant Peter had to dig through a dizzying array of plugs and lube every time he went out.

You turn your head to the side and see the wistful way he glances at your strap-on, and you click your tongue. “We’re in a hurry, remember? Later.”

“Mmm. I’ll hold you to that,” he says, kissing you again as he rolls the condom smoothly over his cock.

He leans back, propping a pillow under your hips to give himself more leverage. As he sinks inside you, you hold your breath, letting it out slowly.

He groans above you, easing just a millimeter out and then back in, like he can’t help himself. It feels devastatingly good; he’s thick and beautifully hard right against where you need him, and thanks to his mouth, you’re wet enough that you’re ready for him to start moving immediately.

You hook your ankles together behind his back to pull him in deeper, and he sinks home, fully seated balls-deep inside. You clench your muscles, just to feel as much of him as you can, and he grinds his hips against yours.

You can feel the tension in his limbs as he draws back and starts to move. You’ll never, ever get sick of how he feels inside you, you think, your mouth open. He’s fucking you so good; his strokes long and firm and perfect.

He cups your ass with his hand to lift your hips even further, shifting the angle once again, and your breath stutters sharply in your throat as the head of his cock catches your g-spot.

“That’s it, right?” he murmurs, his voice wrecked. “Right there? That’s it, babe, c’mon, show me, I wanna see…”

You can’t even respond, your fingers gripping his biceps like his body is your only lifeline. It’s so good, and you’re getting so close, you just need…

“Fuck,” you gasp, high-pitched and panicked as you come, hard and blinding.

He doesn’t slow down. If anything, he fucks you harder, chasing down his own release as you clench and melt around him. It only takes a few more moments before his cock jerks inside you and he curses, collapsing the hot weight of his body on yours.

You pant together, sweaty and spent. His cheek is crushed to yours, and he turns his face just enough to kiss any part of you he can reach—the top of your shoulder, your forehead, the tip of your ear.

When you manage to drag your eyes open, you find his huge doe-brown eyes already looking at you. “Good?” he whispers, kissing your shoulder again.

You smile at him, feeling drunk and dizzy. “So good,” you tell him.

You’re still wrapped up in each other like idiots when he jolts hard as though startled. You’re confused for about half a second, before the buzzer from downstairs goes off.

“Oh, shit,” you hiss, scrambling out of bed.

“You get ready,” Peter says, somehow already dragging on a pair of sweatpants. The speed and dexterity with which he’s able to dress never ceases to amaze you. “I’ll stall.”

You’re stepping out of the fastest shower of your life when you hear the squeaky door to your apartment opening.

“Hey, Bear,” Peter’s voice says.

“Hey, Parker. Your shirt’s inside-out,” she says.

You lean the naked top half of your body around the bathroom door to wave at her. “Hey, sorry, I just got out of the shower. I need like, three minutes to get dressed.”

She clicks her tongue, but doesn’t look overly annoyed as she flops onto the couch. “It’s hot as shit in here,” she says cheerfully, swinging her feet up onto your coffee table.

You can hear her and Peter chatting as you hurriedly get ready; he asks her about Krista, she asks him about his aunt. Unsurprisingly, Bear and May had hit it off in a huge way at your birthday after May had excitedly demanded to know everything about the play Bear was auditioning for.

You give yourself a quick once-over to make sure you look presentable before you duck out into the living room. Peter and Bear have moved onto once again arguing about music; Peter’s on Blur’s side, Bear’s on Oasis’.

You give them both a sideways look. “I’m not getting involved in this,” you say, checking to make sure your keys are in your bag. “But I’m just saying, in a real fight, Liam Gallagher would kick Damon Albarn’s ass any day of the week.” Peter grins at you from behind the counter, where he’s attempting to clean the disaster left in the kitchen from dinner last night.

“Oh, my God,” Bear says, looking you up and down. “Why do you look so worked up? Were you guys just fucking? Like right now?”   Peter can’t turn away fast enough to conceal his snort, and you make a face at her. “It’s called caffeine. Come on, we’ll be late.”

Peter waves at her. “Say hi to Krista.”

“You should come with us, next time you get a night off work,” Bear says, helping herself to a stick of gum from the packet on the bench.

“Bye,” you say, leaning in to wrap your arms around Peter’s waist. “Be careful,” you add quietly, leaning up to kiss him.

He grins. “Always am.” He kisses you back, slow and gentle, before letting you go.

Bear shakes her head. “You guys are so gross. Later, Parker.”

Peter trails you to the door so he can close it behind you. Bear’s a few feet ahead of you, and you don’t mean to linger, but you can’t help but look back one last time as you go.

Peter’s leaning in the door, a dish rag over his shoulder. His hair’s chaotic from where you’d run your fingers through it, and his cheeks are still a little pink with warmth.

As you watch, his eyes crease at the corners. “Love you,” he mouths, too quiet for Bear to hear. He still has the cutlery in his hands he’d been drying before you walked out; two knives, two forks.

You can feel your face splitting into a smile you’re sure must be even goofier than his. You hold his gaze, and as Bear drags you away, you’re missing him already.

#peter parker x f!reader #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker x f!reader #tasm!peter parker imagine #peter parker imagine #peter parker smut #tasm!peter parker smut #tasm fanfiction #tasm smut #peter parker x you

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marchiekana · 11 months

Note

I think your requests are open ? I rarely ever ask anything so I have no idea on how it works. My request though is about an s/o with an above average body heat, a literal heater with Tingyun Kafka and if possible Serval. Have a nice day pal.

Ahhhh that would be soo cute!! But here you go, I hope you like it!

Your warmth.

Kafka x reader

Tingyun x reader

Serval x reader

Stelle x reader

Added Stelle cuz she my skrunkly- wunkly-dumpster diving, trash eating, little gremlin racoon♡

✨ fluff, slightly suggestive, established relationships, kisses mwah mwah

Requests are open

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Kafka

Kafka is in LOVE. Why wouldn't she be? You're basically her very own little personal heater❤️.

After a mission or a rough day she'd be right by your side, hugging you like her life depends on it. And who are you to refuse?(you better not.)

Kafka is definitely a clingy women. So every chance she gets she's either holding your hands or clinging on to you. She lets herself relax as she basks in your warmth. A light and happy feeling coursing through her as she does so.

And this women is SHAMELESS. She'll be touching you all the time. Be it your hands or your thighs or anywhere in that matter. She just needs to have her hands on you. Your so warm and nice and warm and fuzzy and warm. She just loves you too much😔

So much for a so called criminal huh🙁

Tingyun

The weather on the Xianzhou was always perfect. But that didn't stop her. Oh not at all.

She'd probably like lying her head on your tummy or your chest as she goes on spilling all the tea about her colleagues or her friends.(I'm in delulu era)

She usually loves sleeping on your chest cus she can hear your heartbeat and that's so sweet.

Tingyun too, is a clingy women me thinks. She hugs you whenever she wants, wherever she wants. (You better hug her back)She doesn't care about the looks the people give you both. You just feel so warm that she can't resist.

Oh and how she'd miss your warmth when she's out on business trips, she'd definitely call you daily to tell you how much she misses you and also to complain about her customers.

Serval

Winters in Belobog were cold even though there were several heaters placed everywhere. But Serval's got nothing to worry cause you're there! Good for her.

She'd wake up to your adorable face with a smile every morning. And as you stir awake she'd hug you and wish you good morning with the biggest smile on her face.

She holds your hand at every opportunity she gets and making her let go is a whole task for real. Even when she's kissing you for what seems like hours, she never stops cupping your cheeks. She enjoys how flustered you become and how your face is warmer than usual now. Thanks to her little smooches.

And on cold nights she's basically using you as a blanket. (Mode change, human blanket form!!.) You don't mind tho.( You better not)

(i can't decide if she's a girlboss or a girl failure.)

Stelle

I like to believe that Stelle has either a really cold body or a hot one(heh, get it? Cus-)due to the stelleron inside her. So let's just think she has a colder body rn

You are now Stelle's energy source. No questions asked and no negotiations. (Why would you even?)

After every mission, she's dragging you back to your room or hers to cuddle with you the whole day, your warmth giving her comfort and in her words, healing her.

On cold nights on the express, when she's feeling down she's relieved that you're always there by her side. Your warmth comforting her, literally.

You'd have to scold her and push her away sometimes when she tries to hug you after doing her daily routine of trashcan hunting tho. (i wouldn't really care if it's her tho. I'm down BAD) please don't hurt her feelings ,😔 she just bit silly.

Also. This girls gonna be latching on to you like a parasite all the time. There is not a moment she leaves you alone. But you're fine with that.(you better be.)

She'd also have her hands all over you all the time. There is never a time when she's not fumbling with your hair or your hands, sometimes trying to put her hands on yout chest(she would give a lame excuse like "oh i just wanted feel your heartbeat " Like.... girl?)she completely ignored your protests and acts innocent. She just likes how warm you are. It's like you we're meant for her ♡

(like mother like daughter)

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

I'm in my delulu era again.

Women.

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<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

#honkai star rail #honkai imagines #kafka x you #kafka x reader #kafka hsr #kafka honkai star rail #hsr kafka #tingyun #tingyun x reader #honkai tingyun #serval #serval honkai star rail #serval hsr #serval x you #serval x reader #bronya #bronya honkai star rail #bronya hsr #bronya x reader

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dolldefiler · 1 month

Text

[Sleep schedule's still shit but I'll be heading home for Easter soon. Three meals a day. Gloriously speedy wifi. BLISS.]

C/W: Incest

I’d love a sister that understood my need for fresh, new pussy every week.

She’d bring a new friend over every week and introduce us. A slut one week, a virgin the next. She’d watch as I make out with her friend, my hands roughly groping her in front of my sister. She’d want to see my tongue flick against her friend’s cunt, and my cock buried to the hilt in her throat. I’d see her hands fiddling with her pretty pussy under her panties and pump harder into her friend’s mouth. Fuck, she’d look so pretty. So nasty.

I’d look into her eyes as I jerk my hips back and forth, slamming my cock in and out of her friend’s cunt. Her friend would exist in bliss, eyes closed, producing the sloppy, disgusting sounds of a cock-addicted cum dumpster. I’d look down to see her ass rippling beneath, my shaft disappearing into her depths, each thrust a new moan. We’d make a sweaty mess on my bed, as I jerk off in her friend’s warm fuckbox. I’d watch my sister staring intently at my thick, slut-breaking shaft and smirk as she licks her lips. My cock, glistening with the wet fuckjuice of her friend. The perfect snack to gag and choke on.

I’d fuck her friend into orgasm after orgasm until she lays there exhausted and mildly delirious. I’d grab a fistful of sweat-ridden hair, turn her face to mine and sloppily tongue fuck her mouth. I’d slide my cock out of her, and have her kiss it gently before I let her rest.

Then I’d step over to my sister, still on the floor, as her hands feverishly finger her drenched little slit. I’d pull her to my cock, watching as the cock-hungry, cum-denied little whore fervently worships my slick shaft. Fuck, I’d let her suck my cock back to life before pushing myself between her pretty lips. I don’t think she’d even suck at that point. She’d lose herself to a mind-blowing orgasm as I use her mouth like a fleshlight. I’d have her cram her own cum into her mouth, even as my heavy balls slap against her chin. Fuck, degrading her would be so much fun.

She’d be the perfect sister that understands every one of her brother’s needs.

#fauxcest #fr33use #free use slvt #bd/sm dom

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bamsara · 1 year

Note

“Pet goes missing” for the SL prompt! IMAGINE THE LITTLE KITTY AW

Moon-Centric | Wordcount: 1,252 | A03 Version

(Contains some light flirting)

The kitten has been gone for about a day now.

It was an accident. Someone left the door open while bringing in groceries (that you had bought) and maybe didn't see something small and quick run out from underneath their feet (there were bags in the way) and didn't notice until a certain animatronic is filling up the kitten's food bowl before scouring the house with special eyes and very much on edge when he cannot find the little friend, no matter how you try to console him.

(Which isn't long, because you're already putting on your shoes and jacket from when you first noticed the absence of the newest addition to your home, as fast as you can manage because there's a robot with three limbs out the door ahead of you.)

Which brings you here, in the fridged cold of midnight out on the streets, rubbing your hands together and blowing visable breath clouds as your animatronic friend crawls on top of fences and light poles in his search.

Moon is clad in thrift store sweatpants and a t-shirt while you're bundled to the max, and his lack of need for warmth is something you envy right now. "She's probably where she stayed before Gramps found her and took her to us." You breathe into your hands as you walk, a audible chatter in your teeth. "We could start there?"

"No. Damp there." Moon crawls like a spider, uncaring about his form in the outside world. He misses his wire, but he has no problem getting to high vantage points; something that comes in handy when on the search for a kitten in the dead of night. "She'll be somewhere warmer. Not on concrete."

"...Like a exhaust pipe of a car, or a dumpster. Got it." You sigh. With this cold, it's worrying for the kitten, fur or not. It doesn't take a scientist to know that Moon too knew this detail. You would only hope that your searching would not end up fruitless. Or worse; tragedy.

The roads you walk are empty, save for cars that pass by every twenty minutes or so. The animatronic is probably using infared vision to find her, judging by how quick he scoured the bushes and is now crawling on all fours to look underneath the cars parked on the side of the road. Your frown deepens, worry lines sinking in. "Hey, don't stress out. She might find her way back home, too."

Moon doesn't look at you, but makes a noise of aknowledgement.

"We'll find her. If not tonight, we can put out missing pet posters in the morning." Hiking your jacket to cover your neck, you curl into the warmth and look out onto the dark street. It's wet with recent sleet, and the reflection of still lights feel warm in contrast to the air. You sigh, turning back to Moon. "Maybe if we put a shirt and food out, we can-HEY, Put the car down, Moon! Don't pick that-put it down!"

Moon has the backend of a parked car lifted upwards a foot or so off the ground, his head swivels to frown at you in disagreement, but the robot settles back tires back on the pavement quietly and crawls (yes, crawls) on all fours away from the street, onto the sidewalk and up on the fence where he stays crouched. "Just looking."

"You're already crawling. It's not hard to crouch a bit more to check under the cars." You sniff, and see a runny nose in your future. "Don't get us arrested."

Moon's gaze is red and focused, darting to and fro as you walk and briefly turning to you as you round the corner, pausing. "Cold?" He asks, and continues before you can answer. "Home. Go."

"Not a good idea to have you out here by yourself." You snort. A puff of air comes out of your nose as you do, and the animatronic's head tilts at the sight. "Don't want you lifting cars or doing...I don't know, Grand Theft Auto to find the cat."

Moon stands to his full height on the fence, survalience mode returning, scanning. "Cold's not good for you. Or her."

"I'll live-." Your response is cut off as his hand comes up, signaling to be quiet.

"Hush." He hums something quiet, coiling into someone's backward, halfway leaning down the side of the fence and calling out into the darkness. "Pssp pssp pssp pssp pssp."

You try to look over the fence and into the yard, but the space behind the wood is dark and there's nothing you can make out besides fog and some foliage. "Moon?"

"Baby." He says. You raise a brow and there's a moment of pause before he continues. He wears a comfortable grin. "Cat baby. Not you, baby."

"Stop it."

"No."

"Is the kitten over there?" You crane your neck a little further, listening. You don't hear any meowing or anything rustling, and there's a barrier in the way otherwise you'd investigate yourself. "This is someone's backyard, it's kinda trespassing-"

"Says the trespasser." Moon scoffs, and suddenly without warning, leaps from the fence into the darkness.

You wait there awkwadly on the sidewalk, curling further into your jacket and listening to the crikets. You're only alone for a few moments though, a blur shoots back into your vision and Moon reappears, crouched atop the wooden fence, gripping for balance with one hand hard enough it splinters the wood; in the other hand something is held close to his chest.

The kitten is held to his t-shirt, looking blearly eyed, a little doozy but unharmed. It's mouth opens in a tiny yawn and it's limbs stretch out in Moon's palm, and said animatronic's happy face faulters a little in a deadpan at the realization that he just woke the kitten up from sleep.

"The kitten!" You exclaim, smiling. Moon hops off the fence, careful as the kitten seems to be coming to her senses. Without asking, he pulls open the front of your jacket at the top, unzipping it a bit and putting the kitten at your collarbone. Your arms and hands come up to hold it there, keeping it close to your chest where the warmth is the strongest. She's chilly, but not bone-cold. You sigh in relief. "She must have found a little shelter back there somewhere."

"Not enough." He zips up your jacket as quick as he undone it, just where the kitten's head sticks out. She looks a bit startled, not alarmed, but a tiny mew sounds out from your neck at the realization of her holders. Moon brings a finger down to brush against her head. "Home, now."

"You don't have to tell me twice." Spinning on your heel, you start the brisk walk back towards the apartment. Moon is faster besides you than he is behind you, not following along on the fence but hunched over to your side, walking in long strides with you.

A brisk wind makes you shiver, but you're careful to protect the kitten from the cold's bite. "She needs a bath. There's muddy gunk on her legs." You sigh. "You know, a hot bath myself wouldn't sound half bad."

Moon moves to your other side, breaking the wind's gust on you and hoisting an arm around your shoulders. Judging by the way he was pacing, he wanted you out of the cold, and probably was going to force you to sleep the second you stepped through the doors. "Later."

#solar lunacy drabbles #writings #fnaf sb #fnaf dca #fnaf the daycare attendant #moon x reader #moondrop

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ncteez · 2 years

Text

Persistent. (j.s)

Johnny has it in his head that having sex without a condom would feel better. Despite the number of times he’s asked, you always rejected the idea out of fear of getting pregnant. Only with the promise that he will pull out, you allow it this one time. except he doesn’t, and he probably didn’t intend to pull out anyway.

ao3 | m.list | minors dni !!

WORDCOUNT― 2.1k

PAIRING― johnny x afab reader

CONTENT― top johnny, anxious reader

WARNINGS― this is dubcon. do not read this work if you either don’t know or know that it will bother you. this is consensual sex for the most part except for like, when it’s not but also still is? i dont know? i will not trauma dump to give others the ability to grant me permission to write this. if you don’t like it, don’t read it.

NOTE― not proof read. here is ur dumpster fire @neopuppy u get full credit for me thinking bout this enough to write it in the span of like a few hours. anyway, *humps pics of mark lee*

It was just this once where you decide to let Johnny put it in raw. Not because he forced you, not because you felt guilty, and not because you felt obligated. Like him, you’ve never had sex without a condom but it’s the fact that you’re not on any form of birth control that leads you to reject the idea more often than not. Doesn’t change the fact that you’re curious in finding out what it feels like without the thin layer of latex preventing the very real feeling of a cock inside of you.

Today is a little bit different. Johnny brought it up again, promising that he has self-control and will pull out as soon as he starts feeling like he’s going to spill his load. If the past few years with him didn’t tell you that you can trust him, you feel like you’d probably have already broken up with him by now. So, for once, you agree. Slightly excited yourself to see if it actually feels any better, his smile only made it more exciting.

As expected, it did feel better. A lot better. From the drag of his bare cock to the wetness of him and you finally mixing. Johnny appears to agree with you, with the way his body tenses as he finally bottoms out, holding himself there and twitching inside of you. The twitch of his cock stretches you open much like it always did, except this time burning a bit more with how tightly he’s packed himself into your small, wet hole.

You watch him intently and notice only for a split second how dark his eyes have become by the sheer raw feeling of your pussy clenching around him. Usually, he’s talking, usually, he’s already chasing for more friction but it appears he’s getting just what he needs at the moment.

When he pulls his hips back he looks down at his cock, shimmering with a coat of wetness from you for the first time. He groans at it, finally being able to feel your warmth without the cold latex needing to be warmed up first, without the latex creating a barrier between your walls and him. Finally, you can feel him, and he can feel you. He can truly feel how slippery you are, sliding in and out with ease once he does finally move his hips a bit faster.

“So wet–” He seethes through his teeth, pulling his eyes from your pussy and up towards the ceiling so that he can bask in the feeling. “Fuck, so tight.” He looks back down and feels how easy the slide into you is compared to before. Faster, harder, Johnny leans over you and places both hands against the headboard so that he can balance himself for his next, deep, hard thrust.

You yelp as you feel him slam into you, and you really thought he would keep a slower rhythm like usual, but then you yelp again, and again because he’s continuously slamming his hips into you. Looking up at him, his pupils are shot and all you can do is drag your eyes to his biceps, flexing with each rough thrust. Partly, you wonder why he’s fucking you so good right now, then again, it’s a little obvious.

Having the ability to bask in the feeling of your boyfriend’s raw cock for the first time, you’re almost seeing stars when he pulls one arm away from the headboard and grabs at one of your legs, pushing it against your chest in an uncomfortable and painful way. You take note that he’s barely looking you in the eye and instead, staring down again at his cock plunging in and out of you with so much ease. The squelching sounds audible and almost embarrassing when it comes to how wet you are for him, despite the fact that he isn’t praising you as much as he usually does. You can tell he’s muttering things to himself, but too quietly for you to hear.

You can’t reach climax yourself like this, but you can’t look away from the way his face contorts in pleasure. You’d rather he slip on a condom and fuck you until you cum to be honest, or maybe have him lean down and lick your clit, but watching him alone is doing it for you. You’re incredibly wet, incredibly turned on, and love what he’s doing, but– it’s different. It almost feels like your boyfriend is further from the title than he’s ever been at this moment, this feels like a one-night-stand. The fear of pregnancy is still swimming around in your thoughts, the anxiety is definitely there trying to prevent you from getting off like this, but you ultimately ignore it much as he does.

Finally, you wiggle under him, shooting pleasure through you without intention. You’re want to feel him and want him to drive you straight to orgasm, but when he doesn’t even look at you.

“Johnny,” You try to say seriously, but he doesn’t respond and instead flicks his eyes to you in an immaculate show of how much self-control he doesn’t have.”Slow down, you’re not going to be able to pull out–”

You see him shake his head with a laugh. His hand goes straight to your stomach, pushing down hard so that he feels even more pressure against the head of his cock as it slams against the deepest parts of you.

“Of course, I can pull out–”

Wiggling again to try and get him to release his grip against your belly, he only presses down harder, this time groaning at the way he can feel the head of his cock pressing your belly against his palm.

“I’m so deep,” He comments, thrusting harder this time, harder than you thought he would do with you. “You expect me to stop now?”

You look at him for only a moment before rolling your eyes back at the sheer feeling of how deep he actually is.

“Yes–” You moan out, unsure if it was to his question or praise for how good he’s fucking you.

“Sounds more like you like it.” He fucks into you just as hard, pulling his palm away from your belly and now grabbing your other leg, holding it above his shoulder and nuzzling his face against the muscle there. “All spread out for me. You’re so wet for this, you’re practically sucking me in–”

He’s not entirely wrong. One side of you wants him to stop to save you both from the bigger issue, but the bigger side of you wants him to keep going. You want him to fucking tear you apart. He’s always been able to make you feel so dirty, but this, this felt exciting. Risking the idea of pregnancy, which is admittedly a huge anxiety for you is becoming nothing more than exciting now. It feels dangerous.

“Wait– really, you have to pull out–” You clench unintentionally around him as you make another attempt to not let him lose control, and he stutters his hips for just a moment before holding your leg against his shoulder with a tighter grasp.

“I don’t want to.” He grunts, thrusts now becoming shallow and short as he starts to gasp against the muscle of your leg. “Just let me,”

He chokes up a bit with another drawn-out moan, eyes hooding as the whites of his eyes become the only visible part of them you can see. He’s losing all control from how fucking slippery your pussy is against him, and to be fair, it’s sexy as fuck but it doesn’t change the fact that he genuinely can not cum inside of you.

“You can’t.” You almost plead in a disappointed whine, trying to pull your leg off of him. It’s not that you wouldn’t want to feel it, it’s just that neither of you can actually let this go much further. You’re upset because it does feel good, and honestly, you get it. You really fucking do. If it were under different circumstances, you’d be begging for more rather than telling him that he has to stop.

When you make an attempt to get him to pull out, he only jerks his body more, chasing where ever your hips go, thrusting hard as if to satiate your movements to force you back down onto the mattress, and when he holds your arms down roughly, the feeling of your body half-fighting for him to pull out only squeezes his cock more and causes both of you to groan out in a failed attempt to stop.

“Just take it–” He jerks his hips up a few more times as he says it, feeling so close to the edge. Any thought of actually pulling out of you was long gone, though he never truly thought he’d be able to anyway. “I want to see it pour out of you, just this once” He chokes out again, dropping his body so that his face is only inches from yours.

Feeling slightly smothered as you come to terms with the fact that he’s probably going to come inside of you, you find yourself only half-attempting to stop him again. His strong arms are holding you down, cock just as strong spreading you open in ways that make you feel dizzy. You stop fighting against it for a moment, relaxing your body.

“That’s my girl,” He compliments, kissing against your neck just the way you like. “You’re so wet, don’t you want to feel full?”

“I’m only going to ask you one more time.” You say in a weak voice, hiccupping through the thrusts as he chases his high. “You need to pull out–”

“I won’t.” He admits in a choked-out moan, thrusting against you in a way that offers pressure against your clit. “You don’t really want me to, I can tell.”

You can feel the grip of his hands holding your arms become more bruising as he bottoms out one last time. His hips are pressing so harshly into you that it lifts your ass off the bed. You felt uncomfortably full as he bites against your skin but the way your eyes squeeze shut in anticipation to truly feel him shocked you.

“You’re going to take all of it,” He groans, releasing into you before you can even make an attempt to protest again. “Feel that?” He chuckles, licking against the swollen skin he had just bitten.

You’re silent. You do feel it, and it feels too good, but this isn’t supposed to be happening. The idea of pregnancy is heavy on your mind the moment you realize he’s actually releasing into you but he’s still going and showing no signs of stopping. Johnny is emptying himself inside of you without any shame and the anxiety is hitting you more than the orgasm that was building. It’s only when the last spurt is painted against your unprotected walls that he smiles at you as lovingly as he always did, but he says nothing. You watch now as he pulls back and sits upright to see the damage.

You had asked him to stop, and he didn’t. Then again, you didn’t actually want him to. In fact, you probably would have held him in place by wrapping your legs around him if he had actually listened to you.

He smiles more lovingly than he did towards you at the image of his cum seeping out of you and does little to understand the damage that you just allowed him to do. The whole point of this was just to see what it was like. He was supposed to pull out, though the blame can’t entirely be put on him.

When his eyes reach yours again, you can see a flicker or reality hit him but he plays it off.

“You good?” He asks.

You look at him, a little confused.

“Yeah, but–”

Johnny looks down at his cum pooling against the sheets, then back at you. “But?”

“You broke your promise.”

He keeps his eyes trained on you, searching for anger or discomfort. “You were really sexy, felt so good–”

It makes you feel good that he enjoyed himself but, he still allowed himself to lose control even after you at least attempted to have a little bit of control yourself. He enabled you to make a bad decision and willingly did it himself. Unsure of how you’re feeling now that the pleasure is gone, you go silent.

“I’m sorry, I thought–” Johnny panics at your silence. “I mean, you clearly wanted it?”

You did, physically, but it doesn’t change the fact that he failed you, and you failed yourself. The anxiety now bubbling much higher in your stomach and making you feel nauseous.

cue plan b trip at two in the morning and johnny apologizing 439574895439 times bc i dont know how to end this

#johnny smut #nct smut #johnny suh smut #nct 127 smut #[cnc]

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